The Lust for Power

[Tiranasta]

This is the sequel to Arestis' Childhood that I am currently in the process of writing. It takes place nine years following the end of Arestis' Childhood.

[Tiranasta]

Prologue

The sun shone bright upon the city of Silvermoon, the glorious capital of the High Elves. The streets were bustling with activity, and Alastar Theronis was little more than a face in the crowd. The High Elf stood resolutely, taller than most, his youthful appearance betrayed by his eyes, in which could be seen the tired look of one who witnessed the passing of many years. At this time, his eyes also betrayed his considerable worry. He was waiting for someone.
Alastar’s eyes passed over the crowd, on the lookout for anyone who seemed to know him. He felt a gaze upon him, and his eyes fell upon a young woman, taller even than he, with long golden hair pulled back into a ponytail and eyes which radiated a fierce blue. These eyes were focused on him, and he saw her blush and turn away when she realised that he had noticed. As she did so, he too turned away. It would seem that her interest in him was for another reason, then, and this was no time for such thoughts.
Alastar stood in place for several more minutes before a man wormed his way through the crowd to him. The High Elf was short, with dark hair and no visible expression on his face. His clothes were standard. The impression that Alastar got was of a person very ‘normal’. The man faced him and spoke a single sentence. “You will follow.” With that, he began to move away, Alastar in tow. For several minutes they threaded their way through the narrow streets of the great city. Just when Alastar began to feel that he was being lead on in circles, the man leading him stopped by a small house. “They await you inside.” With that, he walked off. Alastar stood before the door for several seconds, breathing heavily, sweat gathering upon his forehead. Finally, he took a deep breath and opened the door.
The residence in to which he had entered was sparsely furnished. It had the feel of a house that not had been lived in for some time – indeed, this was probably the case, Alastar realised. He heard voices emanating from the kitchen, which died down quickly when he closed the door behind him. Nervously, but with a firmness to his actions, he entered the room.
Several men sat around the perimeter of a round table. All but one focused their gaze upon him, but it was the man that did not, their leader, that Alastar was here to see. Mantalor Ashii was bent over a document, but Alastar knew that he was tall when he stood. He possessed long yellow-golden hair which framed a face which seemed to be locked in to a permanent sneer. Around his neck hung a silver amulet, but the round socket at its base was empty.
After several seconds, Mantalor looked up. “Alastar. How pleasant of you to join us.”
Alastar kept his face impassive. “I did not come to exchange pleasantries, Ashii.”
Mantalor smiled arrogantly, then assumed a calm, business-like expression. “Of course, Theronis. I assume that you have it with you?”
Alastar did not reply. Instead, he reached in to his robes, pulling out something small and green. The half-gemstone that he placed upon the table did not seem highly out of the ordinary. Its surface, at least that that had not once been connected to the other half, was smooth, but the green colour was dull. One would think it to be an object of utter insignificance, yet Mantalor’s calm mask almost broke as it was placed before him. “At last...” he whispered, more to himself than anyone else. He reached out his hand, but did not touch it. Instead he traced a careful pattern in the air over the gemstone fragment. A slight shiver ran down the spines of all present. Mantalor smiled, satisfied, and at last retrieved the gemstone fragment, placing it in to the socket within the amulet he wore. It slotted in perfectly, but still the socket seemed unusually empty.
Alastar had sat in silence the whole time, but now he spoke. “You have what you asked for. Return my son to me.”
Mantalor glanced up, his face dismissive. “Yes, yes, of course, he shall be present when you arrive at your home. Now, go. Our business is concluded.”
Alastar stood to leave. Mantalor glanced at him. “Oh, and Alastar? I do not think I need to warn you as to the consequences if word of this were ever to ever reach the guards.”
Alastar paused momentarily, and then left. Altaron, Alastar’s son, was being returned to him! His instinct was to break in to a run, but he made himself remain calm and collected, and set off towards his home with a steady walk.

Alastar eagerly pushed open the door to his home. He expected to hear his son calling out to him, his wife crying with relief. Instead, he heard nothing. His smile faded slightly, but then returned. ‘They must be elsewhere in the house,’ he reasoned. He moved through the main hallway in to the living room, and as he beheld the sight before him his smile faded and his happiness turned to horror. His wife and son lay before him in a pool of blood.
“No!” Alastar bounded towards his family, collapsing to his knees by their side. “No, no, no... Altaron! Ashalia!” Tears flowed freely from Alastar as he cradled the slain bodies of his family. So loud was his weeping that he almost didn’t hear the voice from behind him.
“Hello.” He turned suddenly, just in time to see the golden haired woman he had beheld earlier step forward.
“You... argh!”

Alastar let out a small cry of pain, both physical and emotional, as the concealed dagger entered his chest, piercing his heart, then slumped forward, limp, as the life left his body. A slight sadness entered Tarsia’s eyes, but otherwise her face remained emotionless as she removed her dagger from the man’s chest. As she knelt and used her victim’s clothing to clean the blood from her weapon, she glanced about the room. There were no signs of anyone besides those that she had already slain living in this place. Satisfied, she turned and left.

[Tiranasta]

Part 1

Tarsia weaved her way through the narrow alleys and crowded streets of Silvermoon effortlessly, having lived there for the past eight years. She still remembered her arrival. The day of her arrival in Silvermoon was, in fact the week of her arrival on the eastern continents. She had been surprised even to learn of the existence of High Elves. For Tarsia, despite her current appearance, was no High Elf. She and her sister, Arestis, were both Night Elves, and had quickly learned that their species was not even known by the denizens of this strange new land, and so they had disguised themselves, a powerful illusion which Arestis renewed on a daily basis.
With a shake of her head, Tarsia pulled away from the old memories. She now stood before a tall building, not grand or particularly expensive, but with a strange feeling of power to it. She knocked three times on the door and then entered.
Bodyguards stood on either side of the door. They shifted slightly as she entered, but immediately reassumed their positions upon determining her identity.
“Welcome home, Mistress Matreesa,” one murmured, for so she was called now. Arestis had decided even before their arrival that their changes in form should be accompanied by changes in names, and therefore Arestis and Tarsia Darkblade had become Tyrestia and Matreesa Shadowfoot.
Tarsia nodded at the guard before moving further in to the house. The house had been run down when they had first acquired it, but through renovations and patience it had been made rather splendid. Remarkable paintings hung from the draped walls, and large chandeliers hang from the roof. Tarsia felt a slight buzz as she moved through the hallway. The house contained a tremendous myriad of protective magic, put in place by Arestis. To Tarsia, one naturally sensitive to magic, this had at first been a considerable discomfort, but over time she had learned to ignore the buzz of magic that surrounded her within the house.
Tarsia walked up the stairs and opened the door to the primary office. Her sister, Arestis, though that was not the form she now wore, sat behind a table at the end of the room. She was bent over countless pieces of parchment, but looked up when Tarsia entered, her face expectant.
Tarsia smiled at her. “It is done, sister.” Arestis returned the smile warmly. “Most excellent! Our client shall be most pleased – our extremely wealthy client, might I mention.”
This was their life now. They managed a considerable income through paid murder – that ancient and most bloody discipline. It was nine years now since Tarsia had first taken a life. Even now, she remembered that day well. That was the day that Arestis had convinced her that to take a life to protect one’s own safety was acceptable – even if the threat did not seem immediately apparent. She had been only 17 at the time. Her sister had been 13, and yet it had been she who had supported Tarsia, rather than the other way around.
It had been some time before she had recovered from the shock of her first murder. Oh, how she had changed, she thought with an inner smile utterly devoid of humour. Together, the sisters had learned the art of death. Always together. Even now, Tarsia’s greatest fear was that of her sister being taken from her. She would die before she allowed that to happen.
Tarsia returned her sister’s smile. “When shall we be meeting with him?”
Arestis shook her head disdainfully. “At what time he chooses. The man insists on appearing unpredictable. He likes to believe that he is the most intelligent person in the room, and he likes for others to believe that too.” Arestis chuckled. “If he were half as intelligent as he thinks he is he would not come before us without bodyguards. Walking in to the house of those more than capable of destroying you with no manner of dealing with such an eventuality is simply foolish, regardless of where the allegiance of these people may currently lie.”
Tarsia frowned. “You mean him harm?”
Arestis chuckled in response. “No, but that does not negate the lack of wisdom he displays by his actions.”
It was ironic, really. On Kalimdor, they had been fugitives, as with all those who had not discarded the study of magic. They had fled to the eastern continents to escape that life, and yet here they were fugitives as well, by their own choices. Still, Tarsia had little desire to be integrated in to mainstream society. She had seen the cruelty of the world – indeed, she had felt it first-hand. Her world had been turned upside-down when outsiders from beyond the village in which Arestis and herself had grown up had arrived to slaughter those that they saw as traitors to Night Elven civilization. Their parents had been among the dead. Those ‘lucky’ ones that survived were taken prisoner. Tarsia would never forget her experiences as a prisoner of these outsiders. It was at this time that Tarsia learned of the cruel and uncaring nature of the outside world. It was at this point that she learned the folly of trust. Indeed, this conviction helped greatly in her current business – targets were all part of the system that she so despised. Every target had already been a potential enemy before the assassination was even requested. She trusted no one but Arestis, and she knew that her sister would never betray her.
Tarsia turned as a knock sounded from the door behind her. Arestis spoke up. “Enter.” The door was opened and a bodyguard entered in to the room. “I apologise for this interruption, mistresses, but Mantalor Ashii is here to see you.”
Arestis chuckled and winked at Tarsia. “Perfectly on schedule... Very well then, come, sister.”

[Tiranasta]

Part 2

Mantalor Ashii was the head of a vast and powerful High Elf family that operated from, but was not limited to, the city of Silvermoon. Arestis had been somewhat surprised when he had walked in to her house and asked her to perform an assassination so simple that he should surely have had fifty assassins on his pay-role more than capable of fulfilling the job. Still, the money offered was excellent and so Arestis had accepted the job. Now that Tarsia had fulfilled it, Arestis was most interested to speak with the man again, to learn the real reason that he came to her.
Arestis entered the meeting room, followed by Tarsia. Mantelor was already seated at the table. He was a tall High Elf, although not as tall as either Arestis or Tarsia owing to heir Night Elven background, with long yellow-golden hair much like Arestis’ own and a face which seemed to be set in to a permanent sneer. Beneath the appearances, Arestis beheld a reasonable intelligent man, with a personality like hers and yet not. Like hers in that he was willing to do anything to get what he wanted, regardless of who suffered for his actions. Unlike her in that she sensed a deep insecurity which his arrogant facade was intended to hide.
For a split second, Arestis and Tarsia’s eyes momentarily flittered to the silver amulet containing a partial gemstone sitting upon Mantalor’s chest. As creatures of magic, it was difficult not to gaze upon it. The emanations being given off by the object were considerable.
Arestis bowed. “Lord Ashii. Truly it is an honour to have you grace my home again.”
Mantalor smiled as Arestis and Tarsia took their seats. “As it is my honour to be present here, Lady Shadowfoot. A fine job, your performance at the Theronis home.”
Arestis smiled. “Your praise honours my sister and myself. But, of course, fine pay deserves fine results. I presume you have, in fact, deigned to bring payment with you in your visit here?”
Mantalor chuckled. “Of course, of course...” he reached in to his robes and pulled out a bag of moderate size, pushing it across the table to Arestis. “You shall find that the amount is as promised, plus a little added bonus for the quality of your service.”
Arestis did not open the bag. Instead, she passed it to Tarsia. “Matreesa, if you would?”
Tarsia casually waved a hand over the bag, then nodded. “The payment is in order.”
The spell was a simple one that Arestis, as the more powerful of the sisters, could easily have performed herself. However, for the time being she did not want Lord Ashii made aware of her power, feeling it best if he believed that the magic of the family came purely from ‘Matreesa’. Arestis understood that it was not always wise to let a potential foe know your strengths.
Arestis smiled. “Your payment is appreciated, Lord Ashii. It has been a true pleasure to engage in business with such a man as yourself. If ever you again require my services...”
“Actually,” Mantalor broke in, “I do confess that this was not the primary task that I had hoped to see accomplished by my visit to your home. Perhaps you wondered why I had offered you such money for an assassination positively trivial compared to your usual work?”
Arestis gazed at him, her face remaining impassive, though politely intrigued. “The question had crossed my mind, my Lord.”
Mantalor chuckled. “Yes, that task I set before you as a test. Word had, naturally, reached me of your prowess, but I wished to see it for myself before I hired you for something truly important.” Arestis privately felt that such a test should, by design, test more than the most basic of competence, but she did not give voice to this thought.
“And now that you have done so, my Lord?”
Mantalor considered her for a moment.
“And now that I have done so, my Lady, I believe that I have made a fine choice in coming to you and, if you would deign to listen, I would like to speak to you of a task which I feel, perhaps, to be more worthy of your talents.”
Arestis considered the man momentarily. “I am listening.”
Mantalor nodded, clearly pleased, before speaking. “You are, naturally, familiar with the Dalrenta family?”
Arestis nodded. The Dalrenta family was one of the few families large enough to rival the Ashii family, led by the powerful Maladash Dalrenta.
Mantalor nodded before continuing. “The task consists of two parts. Perhaps you have noticed the amulet I wear on my person?”
Arestis nodded. “It is a beautiful piece of jewellery, my Lord.”
Mantalor nodded again. “Yes. The partial gemstone that sits within it is also a fragment of that which was once whole. Though I shall not elaborate beyond this, know that the gemstone is of great sentimental value to my family and to me, personally.”
Arestis nodded, gesturing for Mantalor to continue.
“I became aware some time ago that the other half of the gemstone was claimed by Maladash Dalrenta, that vicious dog. Fortunately, he is no longer in possession of the object. You see, early this year he passed it on to his daughter, Maliana Dalrenta, as a gift.
Now, while Maladash held the gemstone fragment, it was out of my reach. Now, however, I believe that it can be claimed. The first task is to assassinate Maliana Dalrenta. The second is to retrieve the gemstone fragment that I so desire.”
Arestis frowned at Lord Ashii. “This is no collection agency, Lord Ashii. My business is the business of death.”
Mantalor chuckled. “Indeed it is, dear Tyrestia, but let us see if you feel the same way once you hear the price that I am willing to pay...”

[Tiranasta]

Part 3

Tarsia was pacing the room, clearly agitated. “This is a mistake, Tyrestia!”
Arestis smiled. “On the contrary, my sister, this is the opportunity that we have been waiting for!”
Tarsia shook her head in exasperation. “You honestly believe that he’ll pay us? He’s not going to let us live to potentially present evidence of his conspiracy against the Dalrenta family. The first thing he does after receiving his precious jewel will be to have us killed!”
Arestis chuckled in response. “He will try, yes. We do, however, have the considerable advantage of him not knowing who we truly are.” Tarsia frowned, unconvinced. Arestis continued. “As for the payment, I never expected him to stay true to his word on that. No, Matreesa, what really interests me here is this gemstone fragment, as well as the amulet around his neck.”
Tarsia frowned. “What about it?”
“I know you felt it too. It is an object of immense power. Ashii can claim that his interest in the other half of the gem is sentimental if he so desires, but I am not fooled. The gemstone completes the amulet. He hopes to use it to achieve great power.”
Still Tarsia frowned. “And why should we care?”
Arestis leaned in close to Tarsia. “Because, Tarsia,” Tarsia started at the use of her real name, “power is everything now. Power is the ability to live as we will. Power is the safety from death. Had we possessed power nine years ago, our parents would still live. Our village would still stand. Had we possessed power nine years ago, Tarsia, that soldier could never have forced himself upon you.”
A shadow crossed Tarsia’s face at the memory of that event. She paused for a number of moments, then...
“So, what’s the plan?”


Ashlona Calmar, the handmaiden of Maliana Dalrenta, sat strapped to the chair in the center of the room, her face a mask of fear. She could not remember how she had come to be at this location, nor did she have any particular idea of where this location actually was.
Suddenly, the door opened and two female High Elves entered. They looked very much alike. Both were extremely tall and possessed long golden hair tied back in to a ponytail, startlingly blue eyes and expressions of absolute neutrality. The second one to enter the room was slightly taller than the first, and with slightly more sharply defined facial features framed by hair worn loose, but these were the only real physical differences between the two. It was she who spoke first.
“Greetings, Ashlona. I may call you Ashlona?” Ashlona nodded, not wanting to anger her captor, who continued speaking. “Allow me to introduce myself, Ashlona. My name is Tyrestia Shadowfoot, and this is my sister Matreesa. I’d shake your hand, but I feel that that may be difficult for you at this particular moment. No matter. You are no doubt wondering why you are here.”
It was not a question, but Ashlona nodded regardless. Tyrestia paused for a moment before continuing. “You are here because you are the handmaiden of Maliana Dalrenta, and you have information that we feel may be valuable to us. Give us that information and you will be free to leave.”
Ashlona’s eyes widened in fear. “What information?”
Now, the other woman spoke. “We would like you to draw us a map of Maliana Dalrenta’s manor – an accurate map, and you should know that we WILL know if you try to deceive us. This map must include all guard patrol paths, as well as a description of each room.”
Ashlona paled. “I... I’m afraid I c-can’t do that.”
Tyrestia sighed. “I thought that you might say that. Matreesa?”
Matreesa stepped forward, drawing a knife. Before Ashlona could so much as protest, she had raised the knife and severed the left ear from Ashlona’s head, prompting an ear-splitting scream from her. Matreesa flinched slightly from the sound, but Tyrestia did not. Instead, she reached out with her hand, casting a spell to heal the blood vessels that had been damaged. This prevented the wound from worsening, but did little for the pain. Ashlona’s arms spasmed violently, but her bonds held.
In a matter of seconds, her scream died down, to be replaced with silent weeping.
There was no pity on Tyrestia’s face. “You know that you brought this upon yourself, Ashlona.” Ashlona nodded feverishly. “Yes, yes! Please...”
Tyrestia shook her head. “Do not beg. What more befalls you is in your hands now. You know what we want.”
Ashlona whimpered for a few moments before speaking. “P-please, you d-don’t understand! I do this for you, I’m dead!”
Tyrestia laughed, then. “If you don’t do this for us, you’re dead. A slow death, before which you shall experience pain beyond anything you have ever imagined. Which would you prefer?”
Ashlona continued to weep. “No, please, please don’t make me...”
Tyrestia’s face remained impassive. “Matreesa, if you would...”
Ashlona’s eyes widened as Matreesa stepped forward. “No, no, please!” It did no good. Matreesa again raised the knife, this time removing a finger from her left hand, prompting another scream of agony. Again, Tyrestia extended her hand, but this time the wound did not close. Instead, a narrow stream of fire burst from her fingertip, striking Ashlona at the stump that had been her finger, effectively cauterizing the wound and invoking another scream.
Tyrestia watched her impassively until the cries died down. “Once you do as we desire, the Dalrentas will swiftly find themselves very much occupied. It will not be difficult for you to flee Silvermoon without drawing their attention.”
Ashlona did not immediately respond, and Tyrestia’s eyes narrowed. “I am warning you, Ashlona, I grow weary of this. Thus far I have left you to my sister. Continue to deny us and I shall take my own turn. You do not want that.”
Ashlona wept for several seconds before responding, utter defeat in her eyes. “Alright, alright, I’ll do what you want...”
Tyrestia smiled, then. “Matreesa, if you would be so kind as to fetch some parchment and appropriate drawing utensils?”

[Rashid]

Heh, looks like I'll have the same problem with your fics as I do with most others - you write faster than I get a chance to read. I'll probably finish your "childhood" one soon.

[DarkAngel]

I've been reading this for a while (you also posted at IncGamers), and I thought I should comment. First, you've done some excellent work here. Coming from a curmudgeon like me, that's quite a compliment. Arestis is a textbook psychopath. Those are always fun, but they can be tricky to get right. I've seen enough to have confidence in your abilities.

As for the story, the relationship between Arestis and Tarsia is surprisingly amicable. The ending to the first book had me expecting more of a Gollum/Sméagol relationship to develop. Keep up the good work!

[Tiranasta]

I've been reading this for a while (you also posted at IncGamers), and I thought I should comment. First, you've done some excellent work here. Coming from a curmudgeon like me, that's quite a compliment. Arestis is a textbook psychopath. Those are always fun, but they can be tricky to get right. I've seen enough to have confidence in your abilities.

As for the story, the relationship between Arestis and Tarsia is surprisingly amicable. The ending to the first book had me expecting more of a Gollum/Sméagol relationship to develop. Keep up the good work!

Thank you for the positive comments.

I think I should mention that there is definitely conflict within Tarsia, but at this point her deeper personality is hopelessly dominated by the ruthless side that Arestis forced her to develop.

--------------------------------------------------

Part 4

The moment twilight fell, Tarsia entered the mansion through the secret entrance that Ashlona had revealed. Arestis had been most surprised to hear that Maliana Dalrenta had no contingency plan for the suspicious absence of a servant, but it only made their job easier and so neither sister had complained.
Unfortunately, Ashlona had known nothing of the partial gemstone for which they hunted. Tarsia had felt that she was lying to them, but Arestis had been sure that she was not. Arestis was usually right. Tarsia had therefore hoped that Maliana kept it on her person, or at some place in her room.
As luck would have it, the lack of information had now become obviously irrelevant – the moment Tarsia had stepped foot in the secret passageway that led to the mansion, she had felt waves of power that could only be produced by a powerful magical item. Tarsia nodded in satisfaction. This would make matters a lot simpler.
The tunnel was damp and dark. Even Tarsia, with the eyes of the Kaldorei to guide her, was hard pressed to make out the path before her. Her first instinct was to cast a spell to generate light, but she overcame the urge. As an assassin, she knew that she should keep the use of magic to a minimum, so as to minimise the risk of being detected by a Mage.
Slowly, Tarsia made her way along the passage, taking great care with every step so as not to trip over an unseen bump in the rocky floor. Finally, she found that she simply could not see, no matter how she squinted. Surely this darkness could not be natural? She reached out with her hand, then nearly laughed. She couldn’t see because there was nothing to see; she had reached the end of the passageway.
Using her hands in place of her eyes, she examined the metallic wall before her. Before she had died, Ashlona had informed them that there was a handle that could be used to pull back the statue which blocked the entrance to the secret passageway. Blindly she searched for almost thirty seconds before she finally located it. Tarsia gripped the handle with both hands, but did not pull. First, she cast a minor spell to determine the presence of guards on the other side. Arestis had said that it was not likely – it would have been positioned so that it could be used without notice from anyone, but nonetheless Tarsia wanted to ensure that this task went flawlessly, without any unexpected complications. Usually Arestis would undertake such an important task herself, but this time she had asked Tarsia to handle the matter while she learned what she could of Mantalor Ashii and his family. Tarsia was determined that she would not let her sister down.
After determining that the other side was clear, Tarsia finally pulled, wincing at the noise made by the moving statue. Finally, she emerged in to a well-lit hallway. The hallway ended in a dead end, and was ornately decorated, with numerous statues, drapes and a royal-looking carpet. Cautiously, she slid the statue back in to place.
Despite the fact that the hidden passage was not in plain sight of the guards, Tarsia worried that it would have been so positioned that it was impossible to leave the hallway without being seen. She cast another minor detection spell, and sure enough, a guard stood just around the corner. Quiet as a mouse, Tarsia moved closer and closer to the corner until she could even hear the guard breathing, silently drawing her dagger as she moved. If she had timed her entrance correctly, it should still be nearly an hour before the guards switched posts.
She stood in utter silence for a few seconds, separating all emotion from conscious thought. Finally, she took in a deep, though silent, breath and slid around the corner. The guard saw her immediately. He opened his mouth to let out a shout, but Tarsia’s hand closed on his shoulder even as he did so, pulling his throat on to her dagger and silencing his cry in an instant. She caught the guard’s body in her arms as it fell to the floor, immediately dragging it back down the hallway from which she had come, hiding it by the side of one of the many elegant statues that framed the hallway.
The moment she could have done so, she sprinted down the hallway, time now of the essence. There was nearly an hour remaining before the guards swapped posts, but any passerby could potentially notice the absent guard.
Fortunately, the magical emanations were growing stronger very quickly – the location of the gemstone fragment was quite near to the secret passageway. Tarsia made her way swiftly down each hallway, routinely casting a spell of detection to ensure that she was not about to come across a guard, flattening herself against the wall to allow a patrolling guard to pass her by when necessary. Finally, the emanations were so strong as to almost certainly be a mere room away. Tarsia cast another spell of detection. There was a guard around the corner, but unlike the first it was on the other side of the hallway, and some meters down. In the room he was guarding, the source of the emanations, a woman lay sleeping. It seemed that Maliana Dalrenta did indeed keep the gemstone fragment on her person.
Carefully, Tarsia peaked around the corner, laying eyes upon the guard. She reached out toward him, allowing only her fingertips to extend beyond the corner. She closed her eyes, concentrating upon a spell of enchanted sleep. This would be the most risky part. If her magic were detected here, things could potentially become very ugly. Slowly, miraculously, the guard’s eyes dropped, until finally he collapsed to the floor. There was no sudden cry for help, no sound of guards drawing weapons. With another glance down the hallway, Tarsia slid around the corner. She moved silently to the door against which the guard now slumped. She pushed him aside, watching him carefully for any sign of waking. Satisfied that he was asleep, Tarsia silently pushed open the door, entering the room.

[Tiranasta]

Part 5

The woman that could only be Maliana Dalrenta lay asleep beneath the blankets of her bed. The gemstone fragment was not visible, but Tarsia sensed that it was within a locked display case beneath the bed. Tarsia nearly groaned as she realised that it was enchanted to send off a warning when opened. This would be less simple than she had thought. Closing the door behind her, she carefully treaded to the side of Maliana’s bed. She took a deep breath, again clearing herself of all emotion that could potentially cause her to waver in her task, then simultaneously pushed one hand forcefully across the woman’s mouth while with the other she pressed the flat edge of the knife to her throat.
Maliana woke immediately, her eyes widening, her arms reflexively attempting to move to fight her attacker, but made slow by the very blankets keeping them warm. Immediately, Tarsia hissed a warning. “I have a knife to your throat. Attempt to cry out, physically or magically, fight back or otherwise undermine me, you die. Blink twice if you understand.”
Terror in her eyes, Maliana blinked twice.
Tarsia nodded. “Know that I am a mage of power beyond your own. Attempt to overcome me with magic, you die. Understand?”
Again, Maliana blinked twice.
Tarsia smiled slightly. “Good. You may yet survive this night. I am going to remove my hand from your mouth. You are going to tell me how to acquire the gemstone fragment without setting off the alarm. Try anything, and I think that you know what your fate shall be. Understand?”
Maliana blinked twice, and Tarsia raised her hand slightly. “Impossible,’ she whispered, ‘there is no way to prevent the alarm from being sent out.”
Tarsia pressed her hand back down and pressed down with her knife, drawing blood and prompting a whimper from beneath her hand. “It is unwise to lie to me, Maliana. Do you so desire your own death?”
Tarsia raised her hand again. “P-password!”
Tarsia nodded. “What password?”
Even amidst her terror, Maliana seemed to think to herself, clearly searching for some way to fool the mysterious thief. “Tyrestia Shadowfoot?”
Tarsia smiled. “Matreesa, actually. Not that my identity is any concern of yours. Now, what is the password?”
Maliana nodded, looking more confident. “If you kill me, the Dalrenta family will descend upon you and your sister. Your life will be worth nothing.”
Tarsia’s eyes narrowed. “We shall worry about the Dalrentas. You should worry about your own life. Now. What. Is. The. Password?”
Maliana smiled. “I call your bluff, Shadowfoot. Leave this instant, and perhaps I shall... mmph!”
Tarsia had again covered Maliana’s mouth with her hand, and had then made a deep incision across her cheek. Maliana’s eyes widened in pain.
“What is the password?!” hissed Tarsia, raising her hand again and placing the dagger back at her throat. At last, Maliana looked defeated. “D-Dalrenta, victorious and eternal.”
Tarsia smiled as she felt the flow of magic as the spell abated. “Thank you, Maliana.”
With that, Tarsia slashed the woman’s throat.


Arestis enveloped the man with a deep kiss. “You know what else I heard?’ she uttered with a seductive smile, ‘I heard that the amulet that Lord Ashii wears is magical!”
Amarian Stoutrider smiled up at her, “There are rumours, of course, but...’ he kissed her before continuing, ‘no one really knows, of course.”
Arestis’ face turned to a mask of disappointment. “Ohhh... surely someone as... important’, she uttered the last word with seductive delicacy, ‘as you would know these things?”
Amarian blushed, his smile widening. “Well, dear Asharna, I suppose I could tell you,’ he gave a conspiratorial wink. “Just recently, actually,’ he enveloped her in another kiss, ‘we ‘acquired’ half of a gemstone from a dupe named Alastar...”
Arestis smothered him with another kiss. “A gemstone?”
“Half a gemstone,’ Amarian corrected her with a grin, ‘and then he slotted that half of a gemstone in to his amulet.”
Arestis frowned playfully. “So?”
Amarian kissed her, and then continued. “So, he said that he wanted the gemstone for sentimental reasons, but,’ again he kissed her, ‘every one of us could feel the magic emanating from the object.”
Arestis kissed him again. “This gemstone, does it have another half?”
Amarian smiled. “He hasn’t said, but,’ and he gave another wink, ‘he’s been in a bad mood ever since he got it.”
Arestis frowned. “Why?”
Amarian kissed her before responding. “I don’t think that he can wield it!’ he uttered, pulling her in to another kiss, ‘I think he needs the other half!”
Arestis laughed. “Oh Amarian, you’re so clever...”
Even as she continued to kiss the dupe beneath her, Arestis mulled over what she had learned. Mantalor could not wield the amulet without the half of the gemstone that Tarsia was now recovering. This could very well work to their advantage...

[DarkAngel]

Hmm... Tarsia just had a dangerous brush with one of the cardinal pitfalls of villain-hood: never reveal your evil plans to someone you're about to kill. Did she really know the guard was still asleep? She confirmed there were no alarms, but what about eavesdropping devices?

I was going to say something about Arestis playing a dangerous game too, but then again she'd be ruthless enough to kill her own baby.

[Tiranasta]

Part 6

Arestis stood patiently before the doors of the tremendous mansion, in wait. The doors were flung open, and immediately she had several bows pointed at her, even before the warriors emerged to surround her. Despite all of this, she felt no fear. She had expected such a reception.
“Is this truly necessary, Lord Dalrenta?”
Maladash Dalrenta stepped forth, separating himself from the group. He walked towards her, his expression unreadable, until he stood mere steps away.
Maladash Dalrenta had a long, angular face, framed by long hair as black as charcoal. He stood at average height and radiated impatience, moving as one who knew that he was superior to those around him, and secure in the knowledge that such would be beyond the threshold of dispute to any who beheld him.
“You called me. I have come.”
Arestis smiled. “Indeed, and I appreciate that.”
Maladash’s eyes narrowed. “I did not come to exchange meaningless banter, girl. Nor did I come as a favour to you. I came because you claimed to have information on the death of my daughter.”
Arestis nodded, turning her expression to one of complete neutrality. “Yes, Lord Dalrenta. I am the assassin Tyrestia Shadowfoot, and I do indeed possess such information, for it was my sister that slew her, and I who gave the command.”
Maladash seemed stunned for a moment, and then his face turned to one of rage, and he shouted at her in fury. “Murderer and thief! I shall see you die for this!”
Arestis’ expression did not change. This, too, she had expected. “You could do that, Lord Dalrenta, but I feel that there is a wiser option available to you.” Maladash snarled. “You shall not talk your way out of this, worm.”
Arestis smiled, her face displaying arrogance and bearing no touch of fear. “While indeed it was I who gave the order that ended your daughter’s life, I was merely the middle of the chain. I am a mere assassin, Lord Dalrenta. I do not kill without a client.”
Maladash seemed to think for himself for a moment. “Then give me your client,’ he spat, ‘and perhaps I shall spare your life!”
Arestis nodded, drawing the gemstone fragment from a pocket on her clothing. “With pleasure, Lord Dalrenta. I was hired by Mantalor Ashii, to murder your daughter and to claim for him this very item, which you gifted her only this year.”
Maladash’s rage intensified. “Mantalor! The treachery, that he would do this!”
Arestis almost chuckled. This was going just as she had planned. “So now, Lord Dalrenta, you are left with two options. You may either slay me for the murder of your daughter, or you may work with me... and receive your rival’s head.”
Maladash seemed to ponder her words for several moments before responding. “You have a plan.”
Arestis smiled once again. “I have a plan.”


Night had fallen when Mantalor Ashii arrived at the residence of the Darkblade sisters several days later. He brought with him many warriors, clearly intending to take the gemstone fragment by force. Arestis watched him come with mild amusement. She had expected no less.
“Good afternoon, Lord Ashii,” she uttered, smiling down at him from an open window. Mantalor jolted, immediately turning to face her. His eyes narrowed when they fell upon her.
“Tyrestia Shadowfoot! I have come to present payment and in turn collect that which I hired you to retrieve.”
Arestis chuckled. He was honestly going to attempt to present his intentions as peaceful? “Is that so, Lord Ashii? Late at night, with a small army at your back?”
Mantalor glared up at her. “Very well, then, let us put aside the meaningless deception and be frank with one another. You possess knowledge that could potentially hurt me. I can not allow that. Whether or not you hand over the gemstone fragment this instant shall decide whether you are allowed to flee Silvermoon, or whether you die in your own home.”
Arestis laughed, now. “Really, now, you fool no one, Mantalor. You never intended to let me live. The item in question belongs to me now, and I’ll not surrender it to you.”
Mantalor chuckled grimly. “Then I shall pry it from your corpse! Move in, warriors.”
The group moved without hesitation through the door of the house. At first, Mantalor stood in grim satisfaction as his men made their way in, but then his eyes widened as those who had entered cried out in pain, forced to the floor by a power beyond their capacity to resist.
Arestis laughed. “Years have I lived here, Lord Ashii. Did you honestly expect that I did not prepare it for such an event as this? On the streets, you could kill me, certainly, but here you are powerless against me.”
Mantalor flew in to a rage. “You are safe here only until I bring spellcasters of my own to unravel your sorcery, pathetic woman! You but delay the inevitable and worsen your own fate with this futility!”
Now Arestis’ face turned cold. “That shall not be allowed, Lord Ashii. You were foolish to come here, believing in your arrogance that you could defeat me in my own abode. That mistake shall be fatal. You shall die, here and now, Lord Ashii.”
With that, Tarsia burst out from a gap between buildings several meters down the street, her weapons drawn. She immediately charged Mantalor, who after a moment of surprise cried out, “Capture her!”
Warriors closed in on the assassin, barring her path. Desperately, she reached around them, the daggers flying from her hands towards her target. Mantalor chuckled, a wave of his hand invoking a simple spell to send the daggers flying harmlessly against the buildings that framed the narrow road. Unarmed, Tarsia was easily subdued by the well trained soldiers. Mantalor turned back to Arestis.
“Now we have your sister, Shadowfoot! Hand over the item I desire this instant, or watch her throat cut before your eyes!” As if to emphasize his point, one of the soldiers holding Tarsia drew a knife, placing it to her throat.

[DarkAngel]

Well, I'm not concerned. As the best masterminds know, the best way to take down an enemy is to make him think he's won. No doubt Tarsia will soon escape from her cell and retrieve the other half of the gem.

The plan is good, but your "parts" are a little short for my taste. This may be a case of the pot calling the kettle black, but a bit more "lead-in" time before the plot makes a story feel more convincing.

Finally, could you insert extra returns between your paragraphs? Rich text doesn't keep your indents. Makes it a little hard to read.

[Tiranasta]

The plan is good, but your "parts" are a little short for my taste. This may be a case of the pot calling the kettle black, but a bit more "lead-in" time before the plot makes a story feel more convincing.

I'm inclined to agree, but unfortunately that is really not my forte. It is something I hope to improve on in future.

--------------------------------------------------------------------------

Part 7

Arestis glared down at Mantalor. She would make the sacrifice if she had no other choice, but she intended to come out of this with both the amulet and an intact Tarsia. Before she could respond, however, she was forced to one knee by a sudden, inexplicable wave of sickness. Grimacing, she pulled herself up and glared down at Mantalor. “What is this?” she demanded furiously. Mantalor laughed, then. “Nothing of my own making, dear Tyrestia! It would seem that the poor fool you so easily manipulated left you with more than just worthless information. I suppose congratulations are in order!”

Arestis kept her face impassive, but she raged internally as she realised what this meant. Naturally she had understood the possibility of pregnancy before she had seduced Amarian, but she had considered it unlikely and had been convinced that even if pregnancy were to occur it would not affect her so soon. She performed a quick magical probe on her own body and, certainly enough, a tiny entity, not truly a part of her, slept within her womb. In a rage, she immediately reached out, determined to crush the life out of the unwelcome intruder within her, but halted at the last second. The magical signature of the thing within her was much like her own, she realised. This thing would eventually be born, and when it did so it would carry her own blood. Such a being could be useful indeed. ‘Yes’, she told herself, staying her hand, ‘yes, it shall live’.

Despite her decision, she was nonetheless most displeased by the weakness she had shown in front of her enemy. Pulling herself together, she immediately returned to the business at hand.
“How do I know that you will not simply kill Matreesa once I hand over the item?” she asked, her eyes narrowed. Mantalor smiled, clearly enjoying the power that he now held over her. “You shall simply have to trust me. It is your only hope of receiving her back, alive.”
Arestis’ eyes narrowed. “That is not good enough for me.”
Mantalor glared in response. “It shall have to be, Tyrestia! Hand over the object now! My patience wears thin, and with it your sister’s chances!”

Arestis glanced at Tarsia. Her face displayed slight fear, but none but Arestis would have recognised it as such. She turned back to Lord Ashii, glaring for a moment before speaking. “If I give you the amulet now, I can not trust that you shall not simply murder both myself and my sister immediately afterwards. We will make the exchange outside of the city, in an area so open as to prevent anyone from hiding close by.”
Mantalor’s eyes burned impatiently. “I do not think that you are in any position to set terms, Tyrestia!” Arestis nodded slightly. “That is true, but I must ask you to consider the situation that we find ourselves in. If I refuse to cede to your demands, certainly you shall kill Matreesa, but you shall nonetheless be required to wait for a spell-caster under your employ to arrive and then to wait for that spell-caster to unweave the magic that protects my home. The way that I have proposed is simpler, faster and carries no unnecessary loss of life.”

Mantalor thought to himself for several seconds. Finally...
“Very well. How shall we do this?”


Tarsia was terrified. Arestis had discussed with her in advance what must happen – that she must make a believable show of attempting to assassinate Mantalor while truly allowing herself to be captured. She had agreed – she had the utmost confidence in her sister’s ability to pull off the plan. What she had not expected, however, was the rush of painful memories that flooded her in her captivity. Memories of the previous time she had known captivity. Memories of a day approximately nine years earlier.

Tarsia had been with her closest friend, Talia Silverwind, at a lake near her village – a lake she had come to appreciate for its tranquillity. The High Priestess had been making horrible implications regarding Arestis. Tarsia had refused to believe it, retreating to the lake to escape from the horrible situation. Talia had found her and comforted her – Arestis could not be a murderer, Talia had convinced her. And, while Arestis was most certainly a murderer now, Tarsia still believed that she hadn’t been at that point.
However, it was what followed that flooded Tarsia’s mind, threatening to overwhelm her. She and Talia had returned to their village to find that an army from the nearby village of Telanaar had invaded. Tarsia had found her parents murdered. She had attempted to heal them, but to no avail. Even had Tarsia been an expert, which she had not been, the healing arts could not reach beyond the endless void of death.

Tarsia had not been allowed to mourn her parents, for at that moment she had been captured by a member of the army – a member whose face she had not forgotten, nor would she ever, for it was he that he taken her a short way in to the forest. What had transpired there had burned his face in to Tarsia’s memory forever. She realised now that, though she had become stronger over the nine years that had followed, she had never truly recovered. Still she laboured under the weight of that day.

In an attempt to force away the memories that bombarded her, she glanced at her surroundings. She was in a small prison cell in the basement of the Ashii mansion. She assumed that it was magically protected, but she had no way of knowing for sure, as she had been forcibly injected with a poison designed to temporarily disable her ability to wield magic.
The next day, she, Mantalor and a small group of guards would go to a clearing south of Silvermoon. There they would meet with Arestis, and there they would make the exchange – the gemstone fragment in exchange for Tarsia.

At least, that was what Mantalor believed was to happen...

[DarkAngel]

I'm inclined to agree, but unfortunately that is really not my forte. It is something I hope to improve on in future.

Hey, take your time. Fanfic is a playground for developing skills. If we were really good, we'd already be published by now, right?

In terms of logical continuity, there are a few issues. Most notably, how did Mantalor make the connection between nausia and sex so quickly? Sure, he seems the type to realize one of his minions had been seduced in this manner, but in the heat of a tense confrontation, he should be much more occupied with more immediate concerns.

Arestis' response is entirely in character. The unquestioning loyalty of a child; oh, the possibilities! Obviously, our resident psychopath has something up her sleeve. Tarsia's purpose is to retireve the other half from within the Ashii mansion, that much is clear. (Or is it?)

The question is how to deal with Mantalor's personal army at the meeting site. I have this image in my head of filling a pocket-universe (like the one from the first story) with summoned Fire Elementals.:evil: The important part is that Lord Ashii doesn't have any inkling of what he's dealing with here. Night Elf magical education would focus on concealment as the top priority from day one. His magisters have hope of detecting the full extent of her spellcraft until it's too late.

Overall, I like where you're going with this. The Ocean's Eleven gambit is always the best option: if your enemies think they've won, they'll get sloppy. Just be careful with the "rape-as-backstory" bit. That gets old after a while. Now, since you reminded me, whatever did happen to Talia? It was Lorna who got killed off for dramatic effect.