[Quillstroke] [Amarentia] Darkness

Using the daily prompt: Darkness

Author’s Notes: A quillstroke, written in my ‘Amarentia’ world. Set during the 4th age.

Minimal contact was what it was all about, Kirin thought to himself smugly as ducked through a hole in the wall between the inner and outer ring, pocketing the coinpurse he’d just lifted from some poor unsuspecting merchant. The darkness helped, of course, to avoid witnesses, and the fact that the merchant was some way out of sober and into the realm of ‘I’m just tipsy I swear’.

“My share,” Eden held her hand out. “I helped make it shadowy.”

Kirin scoffed, “Like hell you did. It’s nighttime, and I didn’t you to help, freak.”

“If I said I did, I did. Ten percent is the usual, right?”

Kirin went to protect, considered the fact that there was a thrys standing before him, and reluctantly nodded. Even if she was just a kid like him, those magic-wielding monsters could do some serious damage. Bad blood, to be cursed with magic like that, Blade had once told him. They were to be pitied and feared.

“Give me a minute then,” he grumbled and stepped into the shadow of a building, counting coins. The darkness was his friend, usually. When Blade had trained him and the other kids to steal and fight, he’d been told that darkness was never your enemy. If you couldn’t see, neither could your enemy, and you were the ones trained to fight and steal in low light.

Eden though… this bitch could make it darker with her mind. She was one of those thrys you heard horror stories about. The people who could make the impossible happen, and worse than that, they were so naturally inclined to magic that it was a part of their lives. She would call a ball of light when she needed to without thinking, and never made a sound when she moved. It was unnatural.

“Shouldn’t you be at your orphanage or whatever?” Kirin asked, begrudgingly handing over three silver crowns. One crown was three days of bought food to a street rat like him. “What do you need money for anyway? That orphanage feeds you, right?”

It was the eyeroll then patronising smile that pissed Kirin off. She always seemed to think she was better than him. She thought he was an idiot she could scam money from, when he had to hand over a share to the Organisation too. He wanted to hit her, but you didn’t pick a fight with a thrys… not directly anyway.

“It’s none of your business what I do with my money,” Eden smiled sweetly, turned on her heel and began to walk away. With a dismissive hand wave she said, “Thanks for your coin, Karin.”

Stupid white-haired bitch. Couldn’t even get his name right and she took the money he rightfully stole? He’d show her a lesson, and even if he was caught by a city watchman, they’d turn a blind eye to the murder of a thrys in the city.

Kirin dropped his weight, and as he did he drew his dagger from the sheath on his leg silently. He turned the blade so it rested along his forearm, concealed from view. The girl didn’t notice, and continued walking as he closed the space between them as quietly as possible, timing his movements to be masked by other sounds in the city. She was going to learn not to demand money from an assassin in training. She wasn’t gonna be taking any money after this evening.

Without any witty remark or cry of triumph as one might see in the theater, he slid his dagger into Eden’s back, raking it down along the side of the spine. There was little to no resistance on the blade, or blood. It must have been sharper than he realised. Eden’s form dissipated into mist, as if she had never been there.

He’d never heard what happens to the body of a thrys when they die, so he stood for a moment, perplexed. He’d also no reasonable idea of what magic was capable of, so when there was a polite throat-clearing from behind him, he just stared dumbly at Eden as she tossed a ball of… something at his face.

Kirin saw only darkness and felt only excruciating pain searing his eyes and face. He screamed, but no sound came. He heard, “Forgive me Mara, for I have taken the life of another.”


Eden left the boy alive, groping around on the floor. It had been an accident really, and so she tries to explain the situation with a private prayer up to the Goddess of Balance, Mara; praying forgiveness. She’d only meant to stop him from attacking her further, and she hadn’t actually killed him. She may as well have though, because realistically, there’s only so long a blind, disfigured homeless child can survive on the streets of Lorlyn. She turned back and, carefully picking around his flailing arms, took his coinpurse. He wasn’t going to need it anyway.

What was done was done, and now, Eden had a book to buy.



Quill, signing of for now.



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