New Day's Dawn

                                    

                                          

In the dusty stillness of the rented room, a tiny dagger whistled through the air, drawing a trail of dust behind it. The sharp blade disappeared into a wooden beam with a thunk, the black hilt sticking out like an odd coat hook.
                          
Growling, Sylves the Shade marched over to the skewered beam, yanked the dagger free, and stalked back to the chair beside the shabby bed. Clouds of settled dust billowed at his feet, stirred by his dark cloak. In a flash, he turned sharply and flung the dagger at the beam once more. 
                          
Thunk. Once more, the blade vanished into the wood. Two inches away from the original wound. His first miss in hours.
                          
"Dammit," Sylves muttered, pulling a long leather strap from his bag. Steeling himself, he brought it down hard against his leg. The crack bounced off the walls in a chorus of pain. He did his best not to cry out, but could not hold in a slight whimper. As punishment for his noise, he gave himself another. This time, he remained silent.
                          
Damn that little elf! Where in Oblivion had she come from anyway? Days it had been since he began trailing Jillik and his little brats. When at last he had gotten word of the man's location, he thought his time had come. Surely, the greasy outlaw would have been bleeding out in a gutter and Sylves would be spending his coin by now if not for that elf. That damned, wispy, bleeding heart of an elf! 
                          
Gripping the strap tightly, he brought it up and thrashed himself across the face, sending him spinning onto the bed. Blood trickled from his split lip as he lay cursing into the moth-eaten pillow. What happened to him? Never once had he been so careless on a contract. Every one of his marks went down according to his Speaker's instructions.  He never failed. Until now.
                          
With a snarl, he pushed himself up and swiped his sleeve against his still bleeding mouth. In two strides, he reached the embedded dagger and ripped it free. Another two strides brought him back to the opposite end of the room where he promptly whipped the blade back to the beam. It shrieked in the cold, dirt-filled air before blasting into the wood. The hilt made a dent as it too sank in. With a satisfied smile, Sylves focused on the moonlight glinting off his dagger, the blade in the first wound once more. 
                          
Not a failure, merely a delay: a little twist to make things interesting. And in the end, he would succeed. How beautiful that blade would look painted with Jillik's blood. Maybe he would forgo cleaning it until mingled with the little elf's as well.
                          
He had not failed. Not yet.
                          
/
                          
Like a shadow clinging to the stone wall in the Imperial Prison, Ilshalys crept along in silence. She hadn't run into a guard yet, but as experience had taught her it didn't mean they were out of earshot. Nearing the door to the lower cells, she watched the low torchlight glow on the meager lock. The clink of a lockpick would not do if she wished to move in complete stealth. The wax key she made last week would do the trick. 
                          
A foul stench crawled up her nose as the door creaked open. Her jaw clamped tightly to avoid the compulsive gag that threatened to blow her cover. The mixture of rotting food, body odor, waste, and vermin assaulted her senses, filling her head and pushing against the inner walls of her skull. Her gag reflex pounded upon her will, pleading for release. Rifling through her pack, she searched for something, anything that would stop the stench or settle her stomach. At last, her fingers closed around a fuzzy sprig of lavender that she crushed in her hands and smeared under her nose. The strong herbal paste burned her nose a little, but anything was better. At least she could breathe without retching.
                          
Her personal crisis over, she resumed her search for Jillik's cell. She would make sure that he never harmed another child again. She would-
                          
"...look all I'm telling you is you've been reassigned."