Sorry for the delay, but let me present to you; the final segment of the Nightfall story! It’s a bit longer than usual, I hope you won’t mind!
I’ll be uploading the paragraphs in a collected post some day soon, but until then, enjoy.
Nilassa nearly fell off her stool when the man’s face uncovered. It had only been for but a moment, as he had blown out the candle as soon as the girl lit it, yet that moment had been long enough. The man had a scar over his face, a scar as thick as a finger, reaching from the top of his forehead all the way down his chin.
Let Urikal lead the Night Mother straight to hell! She had called this mission’s target unconventional. Unconventional her ass. Unconventional, Nilassa thought, would have been a guy with three hands, a shape shifter, or possibly even one of the warrior-monks of the Eastern Sea – no matter how un-likely that would have been. Unconventional, was not to kill bloody Skylar Sunkeeper himself. She was a Lady of the Night, not a freaking goddess.
She had heard the stories – everyone had. The man could split the skulls of his enemies without even lifting a finger; he could tear the flesh of a werewolf’s bones with his bare hands; not to speak of the most famous tale of the man, where he split the god damn land itself in two pieces; even children knew the story of the creation of the two great continents.
She had killed the Black Prince without even stretching a finger; she had even managed to send the Slaver of Aszhar to Urikal – even though the scar he had given her still tormented her. But by the gods, how could she kill someone like the Sunkeeper? The man was as close to a human deity one could get. She was sweating, and it wasn’t because of the heat.
She looked down at her trembling hands as a thought struck her. Had the Night Mother known as she sent her? She could almost hear Lady Vada snort at her ignorance with that thought, even here, a hundred miles away.
Of course she had, you block-headed moron. She is the Night Mother, not some feebleminded street-rat. Anyway, none of that mattered right now; she had to decide what to do – apparently sooner than she had hoped, as her target now rose, putting his scrolls back in a leather bag, and made for the door.
Shit, shit, shit.
Well, Nilassa, either you fail the assassination and quite possibly get ripped to shreds by the Sunkeeper, or you’ll get back home with a failed mission. The outcome is the same, no matter how you look at it.
Might as well try to bring down a legend.
And that is all of it, folks! Thanks for staying with me the last couple of months, I’ll be working on another short-story soon enough, which I will continue to upload every two weeks.