Progeny of Fate

Malia

            Eris Filleck, dressed completely in black, certainly looks the part of a criminal. Under the shroud of darkness, we meet in the night, just outside the city. He's leaning back against a tree, arms folded across his chest when I approach. I think of a different late night meeting in the forest at that moment, one just as unexpected, but not nearly as plagued with tension.

            I hold in my hand, a scrap of parchment dictating the precise location, day, and hour to meet Eris. Eris' elegant penmanship spelled out a vague message. I know this must be about the favor I'd asked of him. He's found where the comatose boy is undergoing recovery. I'm to come alone. So I have.

            The young man before me now straightens, standing without the trees support now. He takes long strides, meeting me halfway to his tree.

            "You've come alone?" He asks, green eyes all but glowing in the darkness.

            "Yes," I reply. My hands are sweating despite the chill. Nights are usually just as humid as the day, but not tonight.

            Eris tosses a burlap sack at my feet. "Get dressed. Put your temple clothes in that and hide it in a bush."

            "But you didn't say anything about–"

            "Just do it," He snaps, narrowing his eyes. "You're not about to get us both caught wearing all white like some apparition."

            "Fine," I grumble, grabbing the sack. "Turn around, then. And I swear to God, Eris– if you peek I'll gouge your eyes out in your sleep."

            He shrugs, rolling his eyes but does as I've asked. "Just hurry up."

            I pull the black garments out of the sack. He'd brought a pair of black breeches and a black long sleeved shirt. The material is soft and smooth in my hands. In a hurry, I untie and pull my sandals off, quickly putting my feet through the pant legs. They fit well enough, if a little long. Eris isn't the bulkiest of men, and they smell clean even if there is a lingering scent of smoke. I pull the top over my head, not bothering with the brass buttons. The shirt is well made, the silken fabric sliding coolly over my arms and torso– it is free of the smoky scent thus the undercurrent of bergamot and vanilla become more prominent. Masculine scents that they are, these are definitely Eris' clothes. My hips are wider than his, thus the breeches feel tight across my hips and thighs, but they will do.

            "I'm done," I tell him. He spins around, appraising me with unreadable eyes.

            "A little long, but you're not too short– it works. Let's go. We have to get there before the shift change." He's already walking away, his longer strides carrying him faster than mine can. I stash the sack under a nearby bush, hoping spiders don't find their way inside, and jog to catch up.

            I want to ask why he's helping me. Surely there were other ways he could avoid blackmail— with his capabilities and all, but I keep my mouth shut. I don't want to test my luck.

            "I was getting worried," I decide to say, coming up alongside him. "I hadn't heard from you in a week so I figured you'd forgotten about this."

            "I have a good memory." Eris states without looking at me. "It does take time, you know. Searching the city isn't as easy as you'd think."

            "What do you mean, 'search the city'?"

             "Exactly what it sounds like. You think I just magically know things?"

            "Well, no, I figured you'd ask your father or something of the sort. He would know plenty."

            Eris laughs drily, "My father is a Lord, he doesn't have a big mouth or he'd lose his position. He doesn't tell us anything. That's his whole life." His tone is bitter. I guess I've stumbled across a sore topic.