Shadow of the Blade

The Twisted Shop

Talon:

The waiter's shift ends and he finds out in the back alley his time is up.  It's nothing personal.  

I head out to case the witch's shop.  It should be evening by now.  I duck into the alley nearby and watch.  the door is open. It appears that no one is inside but I always study the situation very carefully before making any moves.  The street is empty so, I slip quietly inside and take note.  Strange jars line the walls.  One was packed with various eyeballs.  Upon careful inspection, I found each one had a different image reflected in it.  I don't want to know.   Essence of nightshade sits next to it along with a box labeled ravens ashes.  Eh.  This stuff leads me to believe she's a necromancer.  I just want to do what I came here to do and leave.

There's a doorway in the back with a light on inside.  I slow my breath.  Complete silence surrounds me as I creep closer to see what the room holds.  She is there.  I see the back of her head with her long raven black hair.  It'll only take a few seconds to get ahold of her and then it will be over.

"The Blade's Shadow"  she says with her back turned to me.  Kindreds arrow! I know I haven't made a sound.  Some kind of sorcery, but I have the wards I got from the wizards in service of Noxus before I left.  They should be good enough to protect and cloak me.  How does she know I'm here?  How does she know what they call me?

She turns to face me with an athame in her hand.  "It doesn't have to be like this,"  I tell her coming closer my blade drawn.  "You can have the lamb's death.  I can make it so you won't feel a thing till you're gone.  You can choose."  I should be fair.  She did catch me coming.

  "Actually, it has to be exactly like this."  she locks her gaze on mine. "It has always had to be exactly like this."

  "The wolf it is," I answered, springing into action, my blade drawn.  She puts up a whisper of a fight. As I slash her throat I grab the arm that is holding the athame.  I feel the life draining away from her.  She drops the knife.  It nicks my arm on the way down to the floor.  I can't believe it.  I grabbed her specifically to avoid the knife.  At the angle I had her arm it should have dropped cleanly to the ground.  I try to get over the sheer shock of getting any kind of cut from an opponent like this as I lower her lifeless body to the ground behind a large chest.   I wipe her lifeblood off my blade on her cloak and gather my wits.  Unbelievable.  I'm still not over the nick but I know I need to forget about my pride and my obsession with perfect execution and get out of this mountain town.  I raise my head and look directly into a pair of yellow eyes.  

It's that damn cat.  I'm pretty sure it's the same one I followed here.  A witch with a black cat.  Living the cliche.  The cat doesn't seem to be very concerned that I just killed his owner.  He gets up slowly from his perch on the bookshelf and stretches lazily.  I consider whipping one of my shurikens at him to cut off his head but I decide it's a waste of energy, time, and chance.  Live cats tell the same tales to people as dead ones.  The cat is of no matter.  

I exit the shop from the back into the alley.  Night has fallen and most of the townspeople are in for the night.  I easily make my way out through the friendly archway I came into this place and I'm only vaguely sure I see small shadows wrapping around the walls of the alleys I pass in my peripheral vision as I go by.