Taris was ready for this to be over. He just had to stomp this human into the dirt and he could get out of this damn sun, his skin felt like it was smoldering. His opponent stood indolently leaning against a post, the crowd a roar in the background. The herald gave the signal to begin the last round, this time they would fire five shots each, at a single target 175 paces away. Kasca sneered at the Shadow Elf, “So I must face a damned elf. What a disgrace. Your filthy kind aren’t worthy to lick my boots.”

The Shadow Elf merely glared and gestured towards the target. He was still fuming after his last match, and in no mood to trade barbs with this man. Kasca laughed and stepped to the line, his first shot taking the third ring solidly. Taris took his turn, drawing back and lining his shot. The arrow sailed straight and true, right over the target. A hush slammed through the crowd like a warhammer, the section of elves the most stunned. Taris blinked. He missed?

A rumble of laughter came from the majority of the crowd, alongside the hearty guffaws of the assassin’s opponent. As the elf blinked his eyes to try and clear the sting, the man took his next shot, landing another in the third ring. He turned around, “I hear your kind don’t do well in the sun, perhaps you’ve been out too long.” Taris nocked his next arrow, trying not to wince. His skin was agony. He tried to use the pain to focus his mind, his match against Kentaro had angered him so much he was having trouble ignoring the taunts being thrown his way. The shot hit the target this time, but only barely, sticking in the edge of the fifth ring. Hoots and jeers came from the crowd this time. His opponent smiled in malicious glee. He took his time with his third shot, dragging out Taris’ misery, but landing his shot on the line of the bull’s-eye and the first ring. The crowd erupted in cheers.

Taris pulled his arrow back, working through the pain to get in a decent shot. The arrow flashed out and stuck solidly in the first ring, to the cheers of the elves off to the side. Kasca clapped slowly, mockingly. “A good shot,” he said, “maybe you’ll actually offer me some competition.” The man looked up to the dais and smirked, “I hear tell, that you’ve met the good Princess Aera. A fine piece of meat, for an elf, I’m sure you would agree. Won’t be too long before I have her writhing under me, mark my words.” His fourth shot landed clearly inside the bull’s-eye. He bowed with a flourish, “Your shot, sir.”

Taris nearly put his arrow through the man’s skull, holding his temper only by remembering his years of discipline. But he was in no condition to make a shot, he knew this. Still, he could either bow out and concede, or continue through. He drew back once more, again taking his time. It didn’t matter, as once more his arrow completely missed the target. This was not going well at all. Kasca laughed once more, “This is pathetic. Enough with dragging this out, I’ll just put you out of your misery.” His last shot was very near the center of the bull’s-eye.

The crowd was wild now, to see the elf that had shamed their prince cowed. Taris couldn’t believe it, he’d not lost an archery contest in many years, and never to a human. He looked over the crowd, searching through the faces… there. The little girl that had brought him water, she had a look of such naked pain on her face he nearly couldn’t stand it. He looked to the dais, at Aera, who was watching with a look of concealed hope. Taris calmed his breathing, he still had a shot.

The elf nocked the arrow. The world seemed to dissolve into two points, the tip of his arrow, and the bull’s-eye. He’d have to hit dead center to win. Taris breathed in as he drew, pulling to his absolute limit. With practiced ease he slowly exhaled as he sighted down the shaft. A heartbeat passed, then two. The bowstring snapped against the leather bracer. The arrow lit towards the target with the sweetness of a shot that one just knew would hit its mark. The arrow sliced into the very center of the bull’s-eye, sinking down to the fletching.

The elves in the crowd went wild. Taris stood straight and bowed to his opponent, the very face of a graceful winner, before walking to where the little elf girl stood with a large smile on her face. “Get me a large towel, and lots of water,” he told her. The smile vanished, she nodded and ran off, and the assassin stepped inside the tent he’d used before. The girl returned shortly, with a few friends. Taris grimaced as he took off his cloak and tunic, his torso and arms were scattered with raw cracks in the outer layer of skin. He took the towel and draped it over his shoulders, motioning the young elves to pour the water over the towel. Lady, the relief was wonderful. “Please keep watch for me, and let me know if someone is coming, little one.”

Away on the dais, Aera watched Kasca and Taris, her face blank but her heart beating fast. She had wanted to see Kasca mercilessly defeated, hoping to see his tall ego wounded. But it clearly wasn't going to happen. Her eyes narrowed as Kasca mocked Taris openly, who was obviously struggling to stand upright, let alone shoot an arrow straight. 

Its the sun, she thought, remembering her agony the first time she'd had to be in it. It was a fever filled, agonizing haze. She fidgeted in her seat, feeling her lower back press against the chair. The scar that ran across her skin had nearly killed her that day had never healed, and she had been suffering under its fever when she'd first walked the world during the day.
Watching Taris now, she could only imagine the agony he was in. Pitying him, she wanted to go and help but knew doing so would raise questions. 

So instead she watched. 
When Taris shot his final arrow and brought Kasca to a surprising defeat, Aera had to resist standing and applauding with the other elves to the side. She was hated enough.

Taris immediately walked off and vanished into his tent. While the crowd was caught between praising the victor and booing the elf, Aera stood and left the dais.

Outside Taris' tent stood a group of elves, slaves and thieves. They gave her a fearful glance as she approached. “Is he alright?” She asked the little elf standing before him. Another darted into the tent while the one before Aera answered. 
“He's in bad shape, my Lady.”
Aera frowned and pushed her way into the tent. Taris sat bent over in a chair, covered in towels while other elves were pouring water over his skin. She watched, standing to the side, noticing his extreme discomfort. It bothered her. 

“You just had to beat him.” She said at last. 
Taris lifted his head to look at her, his expression tense. “Beat who?” He asked shortly.
The pale elf shook her head and stepped forward, taking his chin in her hands and lifting his face, her other hand pulling up one of the towels from his black shoulder. His flesh was cracked and raw, and her own skin crawled at the sight of it. “Does this help?” She asked, not looking at his face. The water would hydrate his skin again, yes, but would it heal it? “I have a salve in my chambers that will help if you need.” Finally her eyes met his.

Taris didn’t look up as the girl’s friend dashed in, looking nervous. “What is it?” he managed to croak through the pain. The boy wrung his hands and barely met the assassin’s eyes. “It’s the Princess Aera, sir,” he squeaked out as the woman herself pushed through the flap. “You just had to beat him,” she said eventually. Taris nearly glared at her, but for the veiled concern in her voice. Instead he kept his eyes downcast. “Beat who?” he asked, more curtly than he intended. He felt more the loser in this instance, though the trophy was his.

She didn’t answer but came over and lifted his chin in one hand, a towel in the other. The assassin knew what he probably looked like on his back, and it was anything but pretty. He could see her visibly try not to recoil at the sight. “Does this help?” she asked about the towels and water, “I have a salve in my chambers that will help if you need.” She finally looked into his eyes and he nearly lost himself. The pain was lessened by the water, but he needed his healing powder soon, else the cracks would take weeks to heal, instead of hours. His latent magic wasn’t enough to mend this on its own. Being a Moon Elf, her salve might help too, or at least that is what he hoped.

Aera’s violet eyes held his own red ones for another moment. He pulled himself out of the haze of pain and a bit of his old self came back for a moment. “Trying to get me alone in your chambers, eh?” he asked before he could stop himself. Taris chuckled, which degenerated into a racking cough, even his lungs felt seared. He looked back up at her, “My apologies, I know you said I shouldn’t flirt with you. Please, I would appreciate it.” The assassin stood shakily, and donned his cloak once more, but he left the ruined tunic off. Aera led him from the tent back into the hated light, towards the doors of the castle.

Before they could enter, however a shout caught his attention. Kentaro was marching towards them, more-or-less. He’d obviously downed another couple of goblets of wine during the last round. Taris went to a knee, Aera curtseyed. “Get up, damn you, you damned elfs!” the Prince nearly shouted. “Congratulations on yer victory, Darky, I have a special trophy for ya.” The swing was slow and clumsy, but Taris made no move to dodge. As it happened in his stupor the Prince barely glanced Taris’ cheek, and the Shadow Elf merely turned his head, avoiding the full force of the blow. Kentaro seemed not to notice, giving Aera a sloppy kiss on the cheek and stumbling off with a laugh. Taris glared daggers into his back, but kept the ones in his boots carefully hidden. He looked back to Aera, “Shall we continue?”

Aera watched Kentaro slink off, knowing she would be in trouble later, for going straight to Taris, rather than her own husband. Or maybe she wouldn't. It was hard to tell, Kentaro was so full of wine. 

She nodded at Taris' question and continued walking, getting into the palace as quickly as possible, so the shadow elf behind her could get some relief. They went up a few flight of stairs, Aera occasionally glancing over her shoulder to see how Taris was holding himself. Being indoors seemed to help him, but he was very clearly still in pain.
The pale elf crooked a finger at one of the older maids that they passed, motioning for the brown haired woman to follow. Inside Aera's chambers, she pointed to the center of the room. "Strip." She said. "Any part of your skin that's cracked, we need to get to." Taris began to slowly remove more layers, but it was so slow going and painful looking that Aera waved her hand and the maid stepped forward to help.

While he was being undressed, Aera turned and found the jar of the mossy green salve she had been given. She set it down and waited for the maid to finish. The maid was middle aged, in human's terms, her face set with light wrinkles, her auburn hair flecked in grey. She had worked around Aera before and Aera felt she could be relied on. On Aera's request, the maid brought over a little stool and had Taris sit, which he did, stiffly. 

Then the salve was administered. Aera put her hand in the jar and took out a large amount, the stuff seeping into her gloves and draining the color from them. "A friend of mine made this for me. He used it the day I'd made my first walk under the sun." With her clean hand she lifted his hair and began rubbing it along his back, her eyes following the scars that could be seen between the cracks. "I wasn't this bad," she continued. "My skin was red, I had blisters and burns. It looked like I had been tossed into a fire."
While the maid worked on his stomach and chest, Aera covered his arms. Almost immediately, Taris could feel the difference, the searing pain of his skin ebbing away. 

Letting the maid finish covering him, Aera stepped back, untying her gloves and pulling them off to change. This pair would have to be tossed. She picked up a white pair and began pulling them on, watching Taris. "How does it feel?"

Taking his clothes off again was even more painful, as the wet fabric pulled at the cracks in his skin. The maid at least was gentle in her assistance, and fetched a stool for him. Taris sat, acutely aware that he was nearly naked in front of Aera, in her chambers. Were this any other time, he would have been hard pressed not to make a move on the beautiful Raielwen woman. But he just watched as she pulled out a jar, and told him about the first day she walked under the sun and the friend that had given her the salve for her burns. With care, she moved his hair and began rubbing the salve on his back. Between the pleasure of her hands on him, and the soothing effect of the salve, Taris’ eyes slid closed. The maid began on his stomach and his chest while Aera moved on to his arms. The salve was amazing stuff, he could feel his magic sparking under his skin, enhancing the effect ten-fold. Aera went to change her gloves as the maid finished his legs.

“How does it feel?” she asked him. Taris opened his eyes once more, and smiled at her, “Much better, thank you Milady.” He paused a moment, “I was nine the first time I’d even seen light. I was born part of a special group of children to live our lives purely in darkness. But I was a rather reckless child and I defied my master's rules and made my way to the gorge my people had built their city into. I was just lucky it was night at the time I got out of the tunnels. As it was the meager light almost blinded me. I stumbled around for a while before I collapsed against a wall from the pain. That was when a girl named Layne found me. She took me inside, until I could see again, and brought my masters to retrieve me.

“We’d become friends in the few days we’d had together, though, and I kept sneaking out after that to go see her. Without Layne I couldn’t walk in the daylight at all, she worked to help build my tolerance to the light and sun. I didn’t know why at the time, until I asked why she was always willing to spend so much time with me….” His voice faltered, even after all this time it hurt to talk about it. “I’m sorry,” he told Aera with his usual smile, “I’m rambling…”

A roar outside informed them that the Melee had just concluded, leaving only the jousting tournament before the trophies were awarded, and the banquet began. “They’ll be missing you downstairs, won’t they?” he asked.

Listening, Aera pulled her arms through her gloves, leaving them untied, as it was hard to do while wearing her dress, the sleeves of the gown too restricting. From the corner of her eye she watched him as he spoke about this woman who had helped him learn to walk in the daylight. From the tone of his voice and the minor tension of the muscle in his neck, she could tell it was a tender memory, this girl called Layne. She wouldn't press it.

“They’ll be missing you downstairs, won’t they?” Taris had asked, turning the subject away from the woman.
With a sigh, she gave him a sad smile. "Unlikely." She pulled a coin out of a drawer and held it to the maid. "Thank you, Dara, your assistance is appreciated." The maid bowed and left the chamber, leaving the door open. "They'll all be focusing on the matches. Anyone who does notice I'm gone will only have done so because they'd like to make some cruel jest in my direction, and they'll just tell it to their closest companion and have a laugh in my absence."
Her purple eyes took note, suddenly, of his rather obvious lack of clothing and she glanced to the door, suddenly realizing they were alone. And that he wasn't wearing much. Slightly embarrassed, she turned to look out the window. Her chambers was on the second story of the western wing; a room she had requested specifically, and Kentaro, still thrilled over her having accepted his proposal, had made the arrangements. It had the best view of the city down the hill and she enjoyed watching the people below, although it tormented her heart to do so. "The salve, if you leave it on, will heal your skin quite fast. Faster, if you've got the elf skill in fast healing already." She cleared her throat, her mind running over his skin again, remembering the scars. "Also, if you rub it over your skin before going into the sun, it will help prevent the sun's effects well. I'll give you the jar as a gift. I can easily obtain more."

She turned to face him once more, containing her blushing, and leaned on the window sill, crossing her arms before her. "I would like to apologize for my husband's behavior. I've never seen him act this way." Her face held shame. "He never used to have an issue with elves. Or if he did, he hid it a lot better than he does now. Although it might be the wine. He normally doesn't get this drunk." Her eyes went to the side as she mentally pondered what could be causing Kentaro's behavior. "Sometimes I wonder if he would be a better man if I had never married him, or even left him, now." She snapped up her eyes in shock at what she had said, hoping no one from beyond the open door could hear her.

Taris watched Aera while she told him how the salve worked. It was hard not to honestly, and now that he wasn’t in any pain, he became very aware that they were alone in her room. From the look in her eyes he thought she had too. As her eyes rounded slightly, she turned back towards the window and looked out over the city. Taris could see she was tense, like something was bothering her. He was about to stand when she turned around and leaned back. She apologized for the way her husband was acting today. The assassin opened his mouth to say it wasn’t her fault, but snapped it shut at her next words.

"Sometimes I wonder if he would be a better man if I had never married him, or even left him, now."

Her eyes snapped to his after the words spilled out, and Taris immediately knew her mouth had outrun her mind. Now he did stand, and her cheeks flamed. Quickly the Shadow Elf crossed to the door and peeked his head out into the hall making sure nobody was nearby and had overheard. His ears twitched just slightly, listening intently for a moment. Finally satisfied, he turned around to Aera and nodded. “It’s safe, I don’t think anyone heard that,” he said. “Just, let’s not let something that big slip again…” Taris’ face lit in a small smile.

But inside his heart thudded against his ribs. Did she truly want to be free of the man? Old thoughts flared and crashed against new ones in his head. She was even more beautiful than Layne, who had wrapped him so easily around her finger. Now here he was, more than a hundred years later, and this new woman he barely knew was constantly on the edges of his thoughts. Perhaps if he told her the truth about Kentaro’s whoring… No, he wouldn’t stoop that low, the man would be exposed soon anyway, if Taris had his way. He shook his head just slightly to clear his head. “Perhaps we had best return to the field, Your Highness. It would not do to have such base rumors swirling around that you had a strange Shadow Elf from a far off land with you, alone in your chambers.”

Aera nodded, “You are right, but I suspect the rumors will circulate anyhow, if they aren’t already. This city is… poisoned against our kind.” Taris retrieved his clothes, pulling his pants back on with an amused glance in Aera’s direction, and clasping the cloak around his neck. Together the two made their way back down to the outside and Taris bowed to kiss her hand. “Forgive me, Your Highness, but I think I should return to my flat and get some more clothes. I hope to see you again at the banquet.” She gave him a smile, and they parted. Taris watched her leave for a moment, and ducked into the shadow between tents, emerging moments later in a nearby safe-house.

He disrobed quickly, between his blood and the salve, his clothes were done for. The assassin marveled at the jar of salve in his hands, already most of the cracks had sealed, and would disappear by the banquet. Rubbing the stuff into his skin a little better, the elf selected another set of clothing, this time a lighter grey for the tunic with black pants and cloak. Someone would die tonight, he’d decided, one of the dukes. Before he left he uncovered his mirror and called his master.

“A report so soon?” the hooded man inquired.

“Just an update, and a question. The princess is starting to trust me, and I’ve secured both her and the Spymaster as alibis for the duration of the contract, I believe. But there may be a snag. What do you know of an Enlor`Lei? He seems to be very knowledgeable about the goings on, and he knows Princess Aera.”

The guild master sat for a moment, as if thinking. He finally replied, “He’s den leader of the thieves in the city, also goes by the name of Envy. You said you knew the girl, how is it you don’t know him?”

Taris thought back, “I was insurance to make sure the contract succeeded, not part of the main job. I never went into the tunnels. Aera’s group were being chased by the target’s guards, I stepped in to help. Saw her a few times after that for the rest of the contract, but never this guy.”

The guild master nodded. “We’ve been on good terms with the den of late, you may be able to garner his assistance should you need it. Tread carefully though, he is dangerous and skilled. Continue the contract.” With those last words he was gone, the mirror just a mirror once more. Taris pulled the hood of his new cloak up, and Shadow Walked back to the tourney grounds.

Aera made her way back downstairs, stopping momentarily to halt a maid and ask for help with the ties of her gloves. Her gown had to be partially undone to fix them, and she hadn't wanted to ask Dara for help in front of Taris. At least she thought she didn't. 
Still angry at herself for her verbal slip in her chambers, she went over Taris' reaction in her mind. He had seemed more or less confused than shocked. Her thoughts circulated as she pondered why, and before she knew it she found herself back at the dais. 

"Where did you run off to?" Risa asked, a coy smile on her face.
Aera sat in her seat and took the glass of wine offered to her with a nod in thanks to the servant. "The dark elf needed medicine."
Risa's eyes narrowed as her smile grew. "I bet he did."
The elf shot her a dark look but ignored her. She sat back and watched the jousting matches, not flinching when the wooden staffs shattered against armor, sending splinters flying through the air over screaming horses. She tried to keep her thoughts back and watch the knights, trying to pinpoint their techniques. 

"Afternoon, my ladies." Aera turned to find her husband bent in a bow. Her lips smiled but her blood went cold; she knew she'd be in trouble. "My dear wife, may I borrow you for a moment?"
Apprehensive, Aera stood, leaving her glass to take Kentaro's hand and follow him into his tent. Once the flap of the tent was closed, his grip in her hand tightened and she winced. "His tent." Kentaro snarled. When the elf's face announced her confusion, he let her go and swung at the pitcher on the table, sending it flying across the tent. "You go to HIS tent. You are my WIFE!" he growled. Rubbing her hand, she stepped back from him, her face emotionless.
"He needed help." She told him, her voice calm. "I had medicine for him. You know we don't do well in the sun." Aera lifted her chin. "Once, you knew that and cared."
"Out." Kentaro whispered. 
"If you had any amount of love for me left you would be happy that I have someone to talk to, rather then be in a jealous drunken rage."
"OUT!" Kentaro hissed at her. She turned on her heal and left.

No longer interested in the final edges of the tournament, she went straight back to the palace and into her chambers, hoping to clear her head before she had to appear at the banquet.

Taris came around a tent just in time to see Aera quickly walking into the castle. Curious he ducked into an unused tent and scryed through shadows until he found her. Something had upset her badly, he could tell from the set of her shoulders and neck, though her face was a porcelain mask. Aera made her way back to her chambers and shut the door behind her. Something was definitely wrong then.

The assassin pushed out of the tent making a line to the doors of the castle. Old memories tugged at his mind and he pushed them roughly away. He had almost reached the doors when another person crossed his path and they nearly collided. Taris stepped back quickly and looked into the eyes of the princess Risa. Immediately he dropped to his knee, “My apologies, Your Highness.”

The girl had a malicious glint in her eye as she regarded the dark elf with mild contempt. The knight Haxfur was with her, apparently uninterested in the jousting competition. A slight smile flitted across her face, “Now where are you off to in such a hurry?” She looked up to the castle and the smile crossed her face again. “I see, do try not to get caught in the act, then. But gods know she needs it.” With a, slightly evil to Taris, laugh she walked off, Haxfur in tow. Leaving Taris to puzzle out, “Did she really mean that?”

The elf stood after she’d left and made his way up to Aera’s room, debating on whether to knock. In the end he scaled up to a statue and perched upon it, watching her through shadow instead. The memories came back again, and he pushed them away once more. He kept watch until he heard the trumpets sound indicating the joust had finally ended. He jumped lightly to the floor and knocked at her door. “Princess,” he called, listening for an answer, “I believe we had best return to the grounds for the banquet.”

She didn't answer for a moment, leaving Taris to stand outside the door. She stood before the window again, looking out over the city with open longing on her face. More than ever she was wondering what her life would be like if she'd denied Kentaro and hadn't fallen in love with him.  Something dark lurks within the city, Envy had said. Taris is dark. 

Taris. Taris  is dark. She'd seen him before, so many years ago, when she would wake up covered in dirt and, dress in rags, and play all day with weapons and children, and go to sleep exhausted, with a smile on her face. A shadow had come, then, too. It hadn't caught her attention, but Envy did. Aera remembered how stressed and cautious he was. Her memories recalled shadow elves with long ears, then, too. A few of them had spoken to Envy a few times. But not Taris. Taris hadn't been in the Den. She'd passed him in the streets.  Those eyes. 

What had happened the last time the Shadow Elves lurked within the city? Unfortunately, she couldn't recall. Something in her stomach didn't feel right. "Go downstairs, Taris." She said over her shoulder. Her voice sounded odd. "I'll head down myself in a few minutes." She waited for a few seconds, listening for Taris' footsteps to die away, listening hard for his soft elven feet. Slowly, she untied her gloves and got out her dining ones. They were thinner and only went up to her elbow, and were more appropriate for formal dinners.

Finally, with a sigh, she turned and went down herself, with a quick glance at the mirror to check her appearance. Wouldn't do to show her thoughts. 
Walking along the hallway, she stopped, lifting her gaze from the floor, hearing him approach.
"You messed up, today." He said in a dark voice.
Aera turned around. "Leave me be, Kasca."
The corners of his mouth went up in a sneer. "You're not going to ask how you messed up?" He took slow steps toward her. "Not even the least bit curious?"

The elf held her ground, lifting her chin in defiance, but was otherwise still and silent. 

Kasca blew a small laugh, stopping inches from her. "You're beginning to prove to my friend what a bad wife you are. He's tried so hard to keep you from the filth in the streets, and now you've brought the filth into the castle." His hand rose and ran along her hair like he was petting an animal. Aera took in a breath, frowning. "If I'm not mistaken, I just saw your dark friend leave your room. Alone. Doesn't take a genius to figure out what's going on between you two." He had a sick grin on his face as he ran his hand down her cheek.

She brushed his hand away and stepped back. "There is  nothing  between me and Taris." She glared at him.

With impressive speed, he lurched forward, slamming her against the wall with one hand at her throat. She gasped and tried to push him, but he leaned against her with his whole body, pinning her, grabbing her right wrist and holding it above her head. "Truth or not, Kentaro will believe me when I tell him I saw that thing leave your chambers. He already knows you've been alone with him today. It wont take much to convince him" He grinned again and Aera lifted her foot from her slipper. "Not much longer, and he'll lose all interest in you and who does you. Then, I'll find you." 

He bent his head and kissed her cheek. Having seen Kasca enough times, she knew he kept a blade on his leg. She felt it with her toes and grabbed it, raising it to her free hand. With the blade in hand she slammed her leg up again, nailing him in his groin. Kasca gasped and bent, releasing her, tearing her glove off her hand. Aera swung at him, bringing the pommel of the blade down on his left shoulder. He toppled and landed on his stomach, hands beneath him. Aera threw herself down, digging her knees into his spine as she pulled his head back by his black hair, bringing the knife against his throat. "Don't you ever touch me again." She hissed. "Or you will die faster than you can blink."

Keeping the knife, she stood and picked up her dropped glove before continuing down the hall.
Behind her, Kasca stood, uneven in his pain, with a glare of death, his left arm awkward and possibly dislocated.

Taris stopped when he heard a scuffle behind him. He retraced his steps, wondering what could have made the noise and looked around the corner of the hallway. His blood nearly boiled, Kasca had pinned Aera against the wall. Taris slid into a nearby shadow and emerged on the other side of the hall just in time to see Aera put him into the floor. The assassin smiled to himself. The girl’s still got some moves, he thought. She picked up her dropped glove and continued on her way.

Kasca stood a little shakily and glared after the Moon Elf. He took a couple steps after her, reaching for something at his belt. Time to teach the bitch elf a lesson.

“What have we here?”

Kasca and Aera turned at the voice, to see Taris leaning against a wall, lazily rolling a small dagger over his knuckles. The Shadow Elf smiled a slow smile and looked up at Kasca. “I wonder how the Prince would feel, if he knew his best friend was forcing himself on his wife? Seems to me the good Prince Kentaro has had a bit of a temper lately, especially when he’s had a few drinks. Doesn’t seem like a good idea to me, you know?” He walked up to Kasca, “Let me give you a hand here…” The elf grabbed the man’s left arm and wrenched the arm back into its socket. “There you are, milord.”

Kasca grabbed his tunic and yanked him close, popping a few toggles on it. But the man seemed to think better of his actions, and released Taris, before storming away. Aera barely glanced at the man as he passed, keeping her eyes on Taris. The Shadow Elf waited until Kasca’s footsteps had disappeared before stepping up beside her. His red eyes stared off but he kept his smile, “Very nice takedown, Your Highness.” The smile died, “I don’t know why you stay here. This place is horrible for our kind.”

Aera’s lips thinned, “I have a duty to my husband. He’s just been…” She stopped, and the look on her face should have been warning enough. But Taris continued on.

“Why are you trying to save something that died long ago?”

Aera let out a small hiss and pushed at him, her purple eyes hot with rage. Her bare hand touched his exposed chest, and the assassin’s world exploded in pain. He stumbled back and collapsed against the wall, blinking through the pain. Slowly a burn in the shape of her hand came into focus on his chest.

Aera eyes widened in shock as she realized what she'd done, holding her hand out before her. Her skin tingled and itched. She pulled her hand to her stomach and looked at Taris in horror. "Taris, I-" Her lips moved but no words came out. Her violet eyes landed on the burn that boiled on his black skin just below his collarbone, small trails of steam coming from it. It looked so painful. The agony etched across the Shadow Elf's face told her it was. 

In hurried movement, she pulled her glove back on and crouched, moving close to him. Taris put up an arm as if trying to protect himself, but it was more of an instinct reaction than true defense. His face showed pain, but not that he wanted to get away. Aera's eyes were watering in her sorrow. "Taris, please forgive me. I forgot I wasn't wearing.... I'm so sorry." With one hand on his knee she leaned over him, peering at the wound. To be honest, she was shocked she hadn't hurt him worse. 
"Walk with me." She helped him stand, knowing that his blood felt like it was boiling and his muscles would feel heavy. 

Back in her chambers, she sat him on the stool from earlier that still sat in the center of the room. Bringing over some linen and another small jar so who knows what, she knelt before him. The little jar was so small it fit in the palm of her hand, and when she lifted the lid Taris threw his head back, the smell of whatever was inside pungent. 

Aera gave him a small smile. "Another gift from Envy. He knew I would make a mistake eventually."
She put a little on his skin beside the burn and told him to brace himself. Taris gripped the edge of the stool and hissed, but otherwise held still as she rubbed the paste across. It was a fleshy pink color and thick as butter, and, Taris inhaled deeply, smelled like a combination of burning flesh and rotten fruit.
"What's in this?" He asked.
Aera looked up at him as she put the jar down and picked up the linen. "I can't answer that. Envy told me not to ask when he gave it to me, and I've never questioned him."
She pulled off her gloves and sighed. This was not a good day for her clothing. Carefully, she lifted the linen and pressed it against the paste, feeling his warm skin with her finger tips. Her heart quickened. His warm breath tickled her cheek and she looked up to see his red eyes watching her, the purple flecks mesmerizing. 

With control she tilted her head up and met his lips with her own. His lips were strong and warm, his skin smelled faintly of mint. Under her hands she could feel his pulse quicken.

After a long moment, she pulled away, her eyes dark with clouded thoughts. "Thank you. For helping with Kasca. I appreciate it." The one side of her mouth went up in a teasing grin. "But I really didn't need it."

Taris watched her face as Aera smeared the pungent stuff on the burn and pressed the linen to it. She was so close, he could smell her skin and was intoxicated immediately. Her eyes met his and he could practically feel his iris’ dilate as he fell into those purple pools. Aera tilted her head back and pressed her lips against his. Her lips were so soft… his blood rushed in his ears with his quickening pulse. Too soon, it seemed, she pulled back. Taris could barely contain the hunger in his eyes as he controlled himself.

She thanked him for his help with Kasca, adding with a wicked grin that she didn’t need it. Taris chuckled, “I’m sure you didn’t. I just couldn’t resist helping him with that shoulder.” They both laughed, but Taris died off quicker. He hesitated, and stroked a loose strand of hair out of her face, “I guess I should savor that kiss, shouldn’t I?” He sighed, “I am sorry, Aera, for what I said. It was not my place to say.” Taris smiled ruefully and stood, walking to the window and staring out. “I hate coming to this city,” he muttered.

He turned back around and looked back at her, admiring everything about her. His heart thudded and Taris had the urge to take her into his arms and kiss her again. A frown flitted briefly across his face. “Banquet will be starting soon, we should get down there. Kasca or not, people will start talking if a Princess and one of the Tournament champions are both missing for the awards ceremony. Especially if both are filthy elves,” he finished with scorn. From the look that settled her face, the prospect was equally distasteful to her.

He offered his arm, and she took it with a small smile. He had a sudden thought as the made their way down to the grounds. “You’ve mentioned this Envy twice now. Is he a friend of yours?” he asked her.

Her mind went back and forth at his apology. No, it wasn't his place. He had no idea who she was or how she had wound up where she was. But, at the same time, he was right. She was losing Kentaro. One could argue that she'd lost him already, but she was too stubborn to let go, the fraying fabric of her marriage tearing in her fingers. 

This city was hard for them. Elves. Through no fault of their own, though. They were innocent victims. Her cousins, the Kartaians, were the ones at fault. Since the humans had built the city and started to grow in power, the Kartaians would travel from wherever their lair was and ransack the city, killing, raping and kidnapping. By association, all elves were hated. 

Keeping her thoughts to herself, she took his arm and followed him down the hall, pausing for a moment to grab a fourth pair of dinner gloves off her dresser, holding them as they walked. 

“You’ve mentioned this Envy twice now. Is he a friend of yours?” Taris asked curiously. 

Aera smiled. "A beloved friend. Almost eight years ago I woke up in this underground chamber. I was beaten to high hell. My skin was red from running in the sun, I was half blind with fever. He stepped out of the shadows. This, monster elf, who I had been raised all my life to fear. But he was nothing like the rest of them. He smiled, sat beside me, gave me medicine and fixed me again." Aera began to pull her gloves on. These ones were a sky blue color and stood out against her yellow dress. "He wanders the streets and finds orphans and abandoned children and gives them a home and teaches them the skills they need to survive. Mostly, he teaches them to steal back from the richer citizens who have enough to spare. The tunnels are called the Thieves Den." She turned and grinned at Taris. "But you know that, don't you, Mycah?"

“But you know that, don’t you, Mycah?”

Taris stopped in his tracks and looked at her. “So you do remember me from back then. I had wondered, to be honest.” He chuckled and began walking once more, “And you’ve kept it secret from everybody? How interesting you are.” His face became serious after a moment, likely the most serious she had seen him, “Don’t call me Mycah, though, not anymore. That person is dead, and needs to stay that way, for both our sakes. You know how the underworld works.

“I may be the only Shadow Elf of my clan left in this region, my brothers and sisters you might have seen back then are all dead. If certain people knew that I was Mycah, there would be trouble. And if my master found out that you remember me, he’d demand your life.” Aera, who had been nodding in understanding, paused at this, and Taris continued, “Exactly. Like I said, both our sakes.”

Aera looked forward again, “So, why are you here now, Taris? You have a job, don’t you?”

Taris nodded keeping his eyes ahead and carefully neutral, “I do, several in fact. It’s a big job, and I may need access to the castle for it. Hence, why I sought you out.” A grin pulled at the corner of his mouth, “Well, I can’t say it’s the ONLY reason I sought you…” She pushed at him a little and they both had a small laugh.

They crossed out of the castle into the fading light of the evening when a thought crossed his mind, “If you do need someone to talk to, for any reason, I’m available to you, Aera. I have a couple months before the job needs to be finished, I can take my time. People like me have contacts, not friends, it is nice to have someone to just talk to.”

Aera looked at him for a moment, “Thank you, Taris, I’ll keep that in mind.”

They arrived at the tourney grounds, and Taris excused himself from the Princess, heading towards the area where a stand was being erected in the field. The ceremony was short, and the cheer from the elves in their section was so loud it drowned out the jeers from the rest of the crowd, making Taris smile. The banquet passed without incident, a stark contrast to the rest of the day. Being a champion afforded Taris the honor of a seat at the High Table, where he mostly talked with Aera and dodged thinly-veiled jabs from Risa.

That night, in his room at the inn, he made his report to his master. “Everything is proceeding well,” he spoke to the man in the mirror. At least, as far as you need to know.

His master merely stared at him, “There is a small change in plan, Taris. I’ve received information about one of your targets, Duke Bronson. He is leaving his estate in three days, you must kill him before then. Do not fail Taris.” And with that he was gone, leaving the elf alone. Arrogant old man…

Aera held her hands to her chest, her face pulled in one of disgust, her stomach in knots. "That's awful."

"Hm." Kentaro said, sitting next to where she stood, bent over his feet as he fastened them into his boots. They were in his chamber, he'd sent word and had her brought in when the sun was barely over the horizon. Kentaro sat on the bench at the foot of his bed. Earlier that morning, Kentaro's cousin on his mother's side, Bronson, the Duke of Westburrow, was found slaughtered in his carriage. His body was so bloody that the guards who located the carriage were only able to identify him from the ring he wore on his finger. The ring, which meant it wasn't a robbery. 

"Our Father..." Aera breathed out, feeling like she might be sick. Taris must have had something to do with it. But why? Why Bronson? Such a harmless man, there was no way he'd made enemies out of the kind of people to call a hit on him. 

"Hey," Her husband stood and she looked at him. He misread her horror at Taris' hand in the business and mistook it for shock for the dead. He put his hands at her elbows and pulled her close, pressing his forehead against hers to look into her eyes. "Don't worry. It was just a horrible misfortune on his part. Wrong place, wrong time." 

Wrong enemies. Aera thought. 

The wine had left his system sometime in the night, the news of his cousin clearing his head for the morning. She stared into his silvery grey eyes, so serious and steady. She'd fallen in love with those eyes. Looking at her now was the man she'd married, the man she'd left behind her world for. Noticing the look in her eyes, Kentaro kissed her hard and passionately, wrapping his arms around her. "I have to go." He whispered against her soft lips. Objection was written on her face when he stepped back. She's still mine. He thought. The prince gave her a smile. "I will come to you tonight, when I've come back from visiting my aunt."

Alone, Aera touched her lips with two fingers, knowing he wouldn't come to her chambers tonight. She'd heard him say that too many times to bother getting her hopes up now. A small part of her, even, hoped he wouldn't visit. I couldn't handle it. 

Leaving her husband's chambers she went downstairs to request something to break her fast and help with her stomach. She still felt like she'd be sick. A bread bowl soaked in potato broth was put in front of her and she ate slowly as her mind went over Bronson and Taris. 
Why would Taris go after Bronson? The elf rolled her eyes. Because he was told to. But why?
And who would be next? Aera pushed her bowl away. Taris had admitted he'd be here for a few months, to take care of a few jobs. Who was next? Holding herself steady with her arms flat on the table, the room spun. Who would be next? 
Suddenly unable to fight the desire to hide, she stood and went out the dining hall door, wanting to get to the privacy of her own chambers. Who else would people want dead, beside the elven whore everyone despised? Had Taris really come to kill her? Oh, Gods, she felt weak. I kissed him! I'm probably a game... he seduces the women he's set out to kill...

Her knees gave out and she fell against the wall in a faint. 

The sound of voices woke her up. In and out, she dreamed she could see Alais standing before her, her dark face smiling, framed with her untamable dark hair. Behind Alais stood Ruli, his soft wheat hair hanging over his shoulders, his tan skin covered in the blood from his broken nose. I did that to you, her mind said. Alais crouched before her and said her name, her dark blue eyes full of concern. How are you here? Aera thought, her eyes went to Ruli. You left me. So angry... And you. She glanced at Alais. You died[/i]. 
"She's pregnant."
Yes. Aera thought, still staring at her friend. [i]You died giving birth. The baby took your life.

Behind her, Ruli opened his mouth, but it was Kentaro's voice that came out. "Aera, my sweetling." Confused, Aera blinked, opening her eyes to find Ruli and Alais gone and Kentaro standing over her. He smiled when she opened her eyes. "Thank the Gods." He bent and kissed her cheek, sitting beside her on the bed. 
"What?" She asked, still confused. They were in her chambers, surrounding her where she lay in her bed, a wet clothe draped over her forehead. Kentaro sat beside her, a physician and the palace alchemist near her head, and Risa near her feet. They were all happy, which made Aera uneasy. "What's wrong?" 
"They say you're with child!" Kentaro smiled at her. "No, Love, stay in bed, don't get up. The baby made you pass out and you bumped your head." Aera lay back down, resting her head on the pillow.
Fool. She thought to herself, staring at her husband. I couldn't be carrying a baby, you haven't slept with me in months. Please don't make me admit that in front of everyone.
Kentaro stood, lifting her hand to his lips. "Sleep, my darling. Rest, and regain your strength. Come, lets all let her rest in peace." 

With them gone, Aera rolled over and faced the wall, hugging her pillow to her body, tears in her eyes. It would be all over the city in a few hours, that she was carrying the Prince's child. When they found out she really wasn't, they'd hate her even more. The physician had to know the truth. He was doing this to her, destroying her. The elf curled into a ball and cried on her pillow, the lump on her head pounding in pain with each fast heartbeat.

Taris stared back into the mirror, his face an ebon mask, as his master’s face faded from view. It couldn’t be. Aera was pregnant? They’d spent a little bit of time together each day so far, and she hadn’t said anything about being pregnant. The news had flashed through the city within hours, and had reached the outlying estates. Now the client had just changed the contract. If Aera was pregnant with Kentaro’s child, she was no longer a secondary target. Taris let his mask fall, and a scowl set into place. He needed to see her.

A quick trip through the shadows and he was inside the castle, just down the hall from her door. He was glad nobody was around, as he was sure something close to murder showed on his face. The elf stopped at her door, schooling his face back into its mask. He was here for answers, and storming into her room in fury would not get them. Instead he knocked and waited a few moments before opening the door and letting himself in, despite her not answering. She was sitting on her bed, facing the window, and away from the door. “Taris,” she said without turning, “nobody else can walk so silently around here.”

He walked around the bed and stared out the window for a moment, composing his thoughts. “Did you kill the Duke?” she asked him. Taris turned and looked at her face. Aera stared stonily back at him, her face calm except for the tears that managed to leak out from behind her eyes. He nodded slowly. “Why?” she asked.

“It’s my job, one that I do very well,” he answered simply. Aera shook her head, spotting a glint of metal between his fingers, “And are you here to kill me now?” She tilted her head back in defiance, and another tear spilled down her face. Taris watched her for a moment before he answered, “The client wants me to. If you are pregnant…” He stopped. Whywas he so angry? “I’m… going to go…” he said lamely, and walked to the door. “Going to kill someone else?” she asked.

The Shadow Elf paused just a moment in the doorway, "Yes."

He shut the door behind him, and ducked into the nearest shadow, searching for Paytin. She was close, sitting in the next room waiting for Aera to call, if she needed assistance. In only a moment the assassin stepped out of shadow, surprising the girl, and slammed his dagger against the wall next to her face. His mask crumbled and his fury showed naked on his face. “What in the hells is going on?” he asked through clenched teeth.

Paytin tried to bring up her hands and push him back, but he just grabbed her wrists and pinned them against the wall. She cried out a little in pain, but his grip stayed firm. “I’m… nnng… I’m not sure. She collapsed this morning, you’re hurting me.” Taris finally let go, though he was still uncomfortably close. “I don’t think she is pregnant, she hasn’t had Kentaro in her bed in months, let alone anybody else. I don’t know why the royal physician would lie about it. Please, Taris, I’ve kept my ears open for anything. Your best bet would be to ask the physician, but he’s been called away by one of Her Majesty’s cousins.”

Taris stepped back, pulling his dagger from the wall. “Yes, ask him. Thank you Paytin.” Just like that he was gone once more, Shadow Walking into the physician’s dark office. The assassin settled into a high-backed chair behind the man’s work desk, and waited for the man to return.

When Taris left, Aera pulled her knees up and rested her head against them, fighting tears. Taris had admitted that he'd kill her. Or at least that he was told to. She was sure he'd do it.

"I wont be a game." Aera said with a determined voice. Scribbling a quick note about visiting a trusted doctor, she got up and went to the far corner of her room, where a large tapestry of a forest scene hung on the wall. She pushed it aside and unlatched a hidden lock, disappearing behind the false wall.

There was more than one reason why Aera had specifically requested her bedroom. Not only did the window overlook the city but there was a secret passage that led to one of the houses Envy owned. It would connect to another passage and lead her to the tunnels in which she'd lived. 
A while later, she stood in the shadows, her purple eyes on one of the small orphan boys. It had been so long, but she remembered him. His name was Roeb. He had a twin brother, Maks, who was sitting some feet away playing with a wooden sword. They were about six. 
"Aera!" The elf turned at the sound of Envy's shocked voice. He stood there, dressed in soft green robes, his hair braided and stubby, showing his maimed ear. His face was sad. "I was just coming to fetch you. Oh, our Father, come here." Biting back tears, she went into his embrace, laying her head against his neck. "I know what you need."
He took her hand and pulled her into the large dome chamber they used as a practice room. He picked up a bow and pressed it into her grasp. "Work."

"Envy, I-"
He held up a blue-grey finger. "Work."

Aera sighed and gathered a quiver and took her position, aiming the to straw dummy on the far end of the chamber. She held, her arms tense, waiting. "Relax." Envy commanded. With another sigh, her arms listened. "What did Roeb eat?"
Aera pictured the child in her mind. "Goat cheese. It was in his teeth."
"Shoot." Aera shot and reset. "Which one is left handed?"
"Maks."
"Shoot. How am I?"
Aera thought. "Your arm bothers you. You're moving awkwardly, so you're sore. The crease above your eyebrow is back, so you're distressed. Your eyes are wide, so you're trying to be more aware, something is frightening you."
"Shoot." Envy commanded, after a moment. "And?"
Aera aimed for the dummy once more. "You want to once again remind me how I should have stayed here."
"Aera.."
The pale elf released the arrow and glared at him. "Don't deny it, Envy." With a desperate gesture, she threw her bow down. "And you're right! I should have stayed! I had to fall for that bastard and his silver words, and now they all want me dead!" Tears ran down her face again, and she felt everyone staring at her, caution on their faces. "I am just a stupid girl who got thrown into the wrong city." They stared at one another, both their faces stern. 
"How many children are here." He asked, his voice steady. Aera opened her mouth and argued that she was done playing and he repeated the question, louder. 
Angry, Aera picked up her bow and aimed again. "Eleven." She growled as she shot.

"How many were here when you left."
Wiping a tear away, she aimed. "Eight."

Envy grabbed her hand and turned her toward him, his face soft. "Life goes on. It keeps moving. If you don't want your life to be where it is, move it." He cupped her face. "You owe these people nothing. You've never done anything to wrong them. The only person you owe anything to is me." He cracked a smile, his white teeth sharp.

Despite her fear, she smiled at him. "What do I owe you?" She asked, knowing he's reply with something cheeky. But he shocked her, turning her to face the dummy. 
"You haven't practice in almost a year. You owe me at least fifty marks, dead center, with excellent form."

She laughed and lifted her bow again.

Taris smiled when the door clicked open an hour after he’d sat to wait, admitting a small man of middle age. He seemed to stumble around for a moment, disoriented by the dark of the room. The physician made his way to a nearby table, and reached for a lamp held there. Taris stood silently and swiftly, moving towards the man. The physician turned around, and only managed a gasp before Taris clamped a hand over his mouth, blew out the lamp and dragged the man into the shadows with him.

Sometime later Taris stepped out of Shadow into the thieves’ tunnels, dragging the physician by the back of his jacket. The man had no obvious wounds, but the skin around his eyes was sunken and grey, and his hands were trembling uncontrollably. The Shadow Elf’s face was grim and he made his way down the tunnel towards the sound of a bow being shot and a woman’s steady but labored breathing. A couple of children turned in surprise at the sound of a man being dragged into their midst, including the young girl who’d brought Taris water at the tourney.

Ahead, in a domed chamber, Aera stood with a bow nocked and drawn. At the sight of Taris, the slight smile on her lips vanished and she loosed the arrow at him. Expecting as much, the assassin waved a hand in front of him and a patch of solid, cloudy darkness appeared before him, devouring the arrow. The tall elf, Envy moved between the two of them, a stern look on his face. “I don’t think you are welcome here, Shadow Elf, please leave,” he told Taris, but Aera put a hand on his shoulder. She stepped around and looked daggers at the assassin.

Taris held up a hand. “I’m not here to talk, he is,” he said, throwing the barely conscious man to the ground in between them. “This is the esteemed Royal Physician, and I have just finished having a discussion with him, the details of which I think you’ll want to hear.” Twin claw-shaped daggers flicked into his hands from seemingly nowhere. “Go on,” he said in a voice like death, “tell her.”

The small man whimpered and looked up at the daggers, to the red eyes nearly glowing in rage, and finally to Aera. “It… i-i-it’s all a lie. You are not with child, you haven’t quickened. T-t-t-the Queen, and Princess Risa, they ordered me to say that you were pregnant when you fell ill, to disgrace you when it came out you weren’t. Please, Your Highness, they forced me to say…” The man cut off as Taris hauled him to his feet, and began to sob.

Taris turned away, carefully avoiding meeting Aera’s eyes. “Now you’ll go admit this to Kentaro as well, and you may yet come away with your life,” he said with sweet venom. Taris almost turned to look back at Aera, but couldn’t bring himself to face what may be in her eyes. Instead he sliced a patch of shadow open and vanished with his captive, the darkness closing behind him.

In moments the physician was thrust out into the halls of the castle. He made his way to the Prince’s room, jumping at every shadow, knowing what lurked within. The man knocked on the door to the Prince’s room, and gaining permission, entered. Kentaro looked very happy and clasped the physician’s arm. “Ah doctor, welcome, it’s such a fine day. Can you believe it? Finally I’ll have an heir!”

The small man wrung his hands nervously, “Actually, Your Highness, I needed to tell you something. The Princess is not having a child. Your mother had me say that, for her own reasons, I’m sure. But I’m sorry, she is not pregnant. Forgive me Prince.” He backed out and closed the door, hearing something crash against it moments later. At least the elf had said he’d let him live. The royal physician returned to his office, still glancing fearfully at every shadow he passed. He opened the door and again felt a powerful hand clamp over his mouth, and could only stare at the rope hanging from the chandelier in the center of the room. Despite his struggles, the elf far outmatched his strength, and had the noose around his neck in seconds. “You told me you’d let me LIVE!” he cried.

The assassin tugged the other end of the rope tight, constricting his throat. “I said I may let you live,” his voice chilled the man’s blood in his veins, “But I find I’m not a forgiving elf.” Taris hauled the rope down, lifting the other man into the air. He watched coldly, with a small satisfied smile, as the man thrashed in the air, hastening his own death. Slowly his legs stopped kicking, and Taris tied the rope to a desk, knocking a stool over beneath the man. He waited for a while in Shadow, until he heard the maid scream. Smiling to himself he made his way back home.