Power often exerts a price beyond its initial cost. Be prudent in your quest for it and be judicious in its use. Consumption by darkness awaits those who do not heed this warning.

Sayings of Wisdom - TouVagou

With the guile of a cat and the patience of a snake, Cassandra twisted and coiled. Two fingers of her left hand maintained a delicate grasp on the hilt of one saber, while the other three maintained her body in a crouch and off the floor. Her right arm remained cocked and ready to strike with her other blade.

She pounced, her muscles releasing with such ease. With the sword in her left, she swatted away that of her opponent as it came towards her. He was somewhere between both attacking and realizing that retreat would be his best option.

Once she had his defenses thwarted, her other sword skewered through his bicep before she ripped it free. Incapacitated, the man in his red and black tunic howled on the ground. Cassandra allowed herself only the briefest of moments. She smiled. General Kayzar's elite forces were at least being put to good use, she thought.

Her hearing picked up on the subtle slicing of a sword as it moved through air at her back. She had already smelled the sweat of the soldier long before that, and her father's medallion also burned with a warming. She rotated, meeting his blade with a twisting block from her own that sent him off balance. With a kick to his gut as he stumbled past, he flew a good three feet before landing with the sound only a soft body on a hard surface could make.

Her two final opponents rushed in, each from opposite sides, each coordinating their attacks. Swords swung. Cassandra dropped to her knee, ducking the first aimed for her head. The other she avoided with a perfectly timed forward roll. Everything seemed to happen in slow motion, even though it didn't. But to her senses, that was how it appeared. With a saber in each hand, her arms extended, and the tips thrust out.

Crouched there, a glance to each side confirmed she impaled both men through their stomachs. Withdrawing her weapons, they flopped to the ground, internal bleeding sapping the life from them as they groaned. As she rose, Cassandra ran each of her blades through a towel draped on her belt to remove the residual blood before re-sheathing them.

She cast the assortment of maimed, dead, and dying soldiers a variety of looks, all distasteful. "Pathetic. And General Kayzar considered you his elite?"

She snatched a canteen of water hanging on a rack of weapons in the training room. Downing several gulps, she tossed it at one of the lucky ones she hadn't mortally injured during her workout.

"Congratulations. You live to fight another day." She mocked him. And while she wasn't keen on allowing any of them to walk out of here, she would uphold her end of the bargain.

That deal was, to avoid an outright execution, the members of Kayzar's special forces had one other opportunity to escape a death sentence. If they sparred with her, and survived, she'd find a place for them in the new order she was establishing in the Empire's military. For a quick count of who remained, she guessed that amounted to three she'd have to put up with after today.

Brushing back strands of red hair from her eyes, Cassandra barely noticed her only slightly elevated heart rate and breathing. She needed a test for herself to see what she was capable of now. The power from the renewed Blood Bond did not disappoint.

As she left the training room and the carnage, her nose caught a whiff of an odd but familiar stink. Her sword out once more, she looked down the blade at the thief who had found her at the inn just north of Catersburg, his one arm completed covered in a long sleeve and its hand gloved and fisted.

"Dat look like it hurt."

They way he leaned with casual ease against the wall, not even looking at her or fazed by her holding him at swordpoint, unnerved Cassandra. As it always did. "You, my friend, are a hard man to get a hold of. I see you got my message?"

"Well, when Civn hear dat General Nightwing lookin' fer Civn, ole' Civn tends t' go inta hidin'. 'Den Civn say t' himself, not like this Nightwing t' send out word she lookin' fer someone. Civn become interested. Want t' know what ya want."

Cassandra detested everything about this man. From his being a thief, to the way he talked - especially how he referred to himself in the third person. "How did you get past the guards?"

He shrugged. "Had t' kill a few. But wasn't so hard. What ya want?"

"What do you know of the pirate Reane Matir?"

"She pirate. Smuggler, ya know. Pain in ass fer Civn and other t'ieves. Always one step ahead. Seems t' know t'ings she shouldn't. Mysterious woman. Man she took t' Fimmirra had name of Anthony Rodan. A rebel."

"That, I know." Cassandra lowered her weapon. "What about her crew and people that she consorts with? In particular, someone that might have been on board that ship of hers when it set sail."

"Civn know lots of t'ings. But, information ya could get from anyone."

"Tried. Problem is, while the person I want information on seemed pretty well recognized around Catersburg, no one seems to know a whole lot about her. And those that would have the information, thieves like yourself, are rather hard to catch and interrogate. Even members of a guild known as the Black Palms, who I understand didn't like her very much, wouldn't offer up much."

"Der be honor among t'ieves. Even t'ieves dat hate each other." With a slight up and down to his chin, Civn showed he was at least willing to entertain continuing this conversation. He gave Cassandra an understanding expression. "When you say t'eif, Civn know whom ya speak. But knowledge has price. Civn already give ya more den 'nough for free."

"Money is no object." Then, realizing she was dealing with a thief, she added, "So long as your information is useful."

"Ya want t' know 'bout de t'ief with hair like yours. De one named Sheala."

"Yes."

A smile coursed across his face now. "Pretty little thing. She no like Civn though. Shame. Her and Matir good friends. She went wit' Matir to Fimmirra and de assassin you were after."

"I want a last name."

He paused. "Why yougonna pay fer information ya already know?"

"I just want the name."

"Same asyers."

Cassandra stepped back. "Excuse me?"

The smile Civn wore widened. "Well, before ya changed yers t' hide who ya are."

That this scum perceived an awful lot about her grated on Cassandra. Especially when the things he seemed to know were things she had fought to hide from so many for so long. Still, everything made sense now. After that night Cassandra left the gypsy camp for good, Sheala had stayed on and eventually tore away. But her sister kept using the talents Ebeth and his band taught her to make a living.

Cassandra smiled with satisfaction, then was blunt with her next request. "I need you to help me find her."

Civn shrugged. "She in Fimmirra. Told ya. Dat where de Oracle went."

"No. Not for long, anyway. I know my sister. And while I don't know what her next move will be, I need to know."

"Hire a t'ief t' catch a t'ief."

"Exactly. And don't tell me you fall under the category of a thief who won't rat on a fellow criminal."

"Civn have no interest in Stormband. But do have interest in Matir. Want t' find out her secrets. And Civn told dat some of her old associates lookin' fer her too. Apparently dey got questioned a little hard by yer men after she got involved wit' helpin' dat rebel escape."

"I have a feeling that finding Sheala also means we find this Captain Matir. And, like I said, money is no object. I did my homework on you, my mysterious friend. You're one of the best there is. And I don't do business with anyone but the best."

"Civn t'ink about it." He removed himself from his perch, turned from Cassandra, and strolled away down the palace corridor.

Cassandra was more than a little startled by his nonchalant attitude. She would never be so bold to turn her back on someone. "Just tell me whether or not you'll help me."

"Civn let ya know. Two days, and he let ya know."

As he left her, Cassandra waited until he disappeared from sight. "Stop lurking and show yourself." The words seemed spoken to nobody, and she added, "I know Lord Hedric has you watching me."

After the clarification, a pair of red eyes appeared and hovered behind her. "General?"

"Follow him."

"I have my orders."

"And I'm giving you new ones."

Civn navigated one of the lesser-known passages beneath the palace in Roatsburg. A faint glowstone capable of illuminating only a meter in each direction was his only guide. He stopped only once reaching the designated rendezvous point.

"Well?"

"Seems onda level." Civn answered the stern voice from the shadows.

"I told you it was a legit offer." Stepping out of the darkness, an overly broad man loomed toe to toe with Civn. His hood drawn up, all that was revealed of his face was the sour expression worn below his nose.

"How'd ya wind up not havin' ta fight her ta win a chance ta serve her like da others, Halond?"

Civn's fellow assassin's acidic look turned to a grin. "You know me, Civ. I'm useful. She understands that. And it wasn't hard to convince her. What did you tell her?"

"Told her I'd get back ta her in two days. Gotta t'ink over some t'ings."

"You're putting both our necks on the line, Civ. I told her you'd take the job, and you wouldn't let her down."

"Shouldn't make a promise on Civn's behalf."

"Look, Civ, you own me. Don't-"

A twitch from a finger on Civn's ungloved hand was all it took for Halond fall silent. It might have been a while since the two worked together, but the familiarity shared between them spanned that time with ease.

Civn's gloved hand and sleeved arm started to move from its permanent fist. He whirled about, fingers extended and grasped something that appeared to be nothing more than shadows. Red eyes flashed bright, stunned by the reaction. A wheezing choking sound emanated from the black specter that shouldn't have been able to be caught with such ease. "Surprised, no?" he sneered the words at the mass on incorporeal matter.

"Damn, those things give me the creeps." Even though he admitted to such, Halond didn't react with any shock to its presence. "Thank goodness for that arm of yours. Good thing that you had that run in with that wizard all those years ago, eh?"

Civn examined the creature he held before him, twisting it as tendrils grasped unsuccessfully at his arm beneath the sleeve. "The price of Civn's arm was high, but is often useful." Then he addressed the specter. "Tell Nightwing, I accept her offer." Then he pulled it close and glared down its demonic eyes with an even darker stare of his own. "An' if Civn ever catch ya following him again, he'll send ya back where ya came from. Understood?"

"Your commands," it choked out. "Are clear."

Halond chuckled and slapped Civn on the shoulder. "Good to have you back, buddy."