Chapter one: A Thief’s Job

Syli was, as always, chilling out on his favourite hill in the tuesday sunlight of summer. His mind was elsewhere though. He was thinking about the Guild of Thieves. He was one of these Thieves. He had just started and needed help. But that’s not how it worked in this Guild. If you wanted to join, you had to earn their respect. Well, you could always join, but if you wanted to run a business you had to prove yourself. Syli wanted to own such a business. His friends had agreed to be Hunters. Assassins that kill for money. If somebody was trying to bring the business down they would kill that person.
“Why do you always come up here?” Irana, Syli’s childhood friend, said.
He blushed.
“Because it’s so warm and comfortable. Plus I can think better up here. Thought you’d find me though, you always do.”
She was blushing now. “Better up here than down there!” Irana pointed down to the absurd chaos in the West District.
“Well that’s the first time you say something that’s true!” he told her.
“Well you’re not always right either!” she retorted with a frown.
“Well goodbye, Sylini.” she always used his full name.
“Goodbye,” he said, sudden affection passing through him. This was his childhood crush coming back again. He quickly pushed away the thought. She walked back down the hill disappearing out of sight within the West District. He quickly stood up and rushed off the hill. He ran to an alley between two small, simple stone houses. He turned to the left and opened a grate in the wall of the left house. He crawled through and landed on the stone ground of the Knives’ Road. He walked through the darkness to his shelter. It wasn’t very luxurious, but better than a house in the West District. There was a table in the middle of the room with one chair and two benches around it. At the far end of the room there was a desk with a luxurious black chair behind it.
There came a knock on the door.
“Come in,” Syli said.
His friend Frollen came through the carved wooden door.
“You have a visitor,” he said.
Syli walked to his desk and seated himself. He picked up a shining silver dagger that was lying on his desk.
“Send him in,” Syli said.
Frollen nodded and went back through the door.
After about ten minutes a short, ragged man came in. He gazed around himself and inspected Syli. Syli was playing with his dagger and looked up. The man quickly averted his gaze.
“Why have you come here?” Syli asked with a threatening voice.
The man defiantly looked up. “My daughter stole my house and fortune, she even took my clothes!” the man said calmly, but angrily.
“Then what would you have me do?” Syli asked.
“Kill her,” the man said.
“And what will I get in return?” Syli asked, now curious.
“Whatever you want,” he answered in a cold tone.
“Well then we’ll see, eh?”
The man quickly looked at the floor as Syli stood up.
“Get out,” Syli said.
The man quickly made his way back to the door. He turned his head and looked at Syli again. He ran out of the room. Syli considered what he should do about this ‘sheep’. Sheep was a codename for the victim of a kill contract.
“Frollen!” Syli shouted. “Send Getran in!”
A few minutes later Frollen came in with a small man with dark hair and almost white skin. Over his left cheek there was a huge scar that he got on one of his kills.
“Ya wanted ta see me?” Getran asked. His dark cloak swirled behind him when he turned to face Syli. He was one of the few people that dared look a Thief in the eyes. Three silver long daggers hung on each side of the inside of his cloak.
“Yes, I did, I got another sheep for you to kill. My cloaks will inform you of the target. You will be rewarded with one tenth of the reward.”
“A half,” he demanded. “I got family to feed, eh?”
Syli knew that he didn’t have a family, but he was the most skilled hunter Syli had ever seen. He was able to make such demands.
“One fourth, no more, I’m the boss here. You don’t forget that.”
“Fine.” Getran growled.
Getran walked out of the door and looked back once, mockingly. Then Frollen walked into the room.
‘The girl has requested a visit. Shall I let her in?’ He asked.
‘Of course.’ Syli replied.
A moment later Irana entered the room. Syli looked up and saw her cheeks red from crying. Her right shoulder was bleeding and the bag she had before was gone.
‘He, he, took my stuff… I tried to fight back, but he had a short sword...’ She said, sobbing.
‘Who!?’ Syli asked, now furious.
‘Treyan.’ Irana replied, shocked by his angry reply.
‘Sorry,’ Syli said, his face softening. ‘I got carried away. But I will get your stuff back, and I promise that he will pay.’
Frollen, standing next to the door, asked:
‘Shall I send a Hunter?’
‘No, I will do this myself,’ Syli answered, still enraged. He shouldn’t have hired that Cloak… He grabbed his dagger and put on his blades, that would come out when he made a fist. He left and got out of the same grate as before. He walked down the hill and knocked on the door of a broken cottage. A very large man opened the door.
“Who are you?” Said Treyan. He didn’t know Syli because he just got work with him.
“Someone important,” Syli said.
Treyans eyes widened. “No!” He yelled. He tried to turn his back to Syli but Syli made a fist and stabbed him in the neck. He fell to the ground with none-seeing eyes. Syli went through the door and immediately saw a bag on the floor, he grabbed it and went back to the shelter.
“A thief’s job,” Frollen muttered when he got back.