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This article was written by DeltaStriker. Please do not add to it without the writer's permission.
Honor Among Thieves
Noimage
Story
Setting
Tesera, Bara Magna
Date Set
Unspecified


Honor Among Thieves is a short story set on Bara Magna, in the village of Tesera.

Story[]

In the shadows of the promenade a figure waited, unnoticed by the crowd of agori that streamed constantly past him. This was intentional, as the cloak he wore would have been almost as conspicuous as the sand-caked black armor it concealed. Even in the green, sheltered village of Tesera it was sweltering hot and the use of cloaks had long since been abandoned. Now the use of one was often associated with a suspicious need to hide one’s identity, and in turn the long-theorized criminal underground that the Agori used to justify the arrest of unsavory characters. As such the mere act of wearing one was enough to bring the village guard down on you. Most would have called this mysterious figure foolish to be wearing one in broad daylight and in full view of the public. But of all the crimes this particular individual could have been rightfully accused of, the donning of a cloak would be the mildest.

Tyro, feared Bone Hunter and wanted in every village this side of the Skrall River, was waiting for someone.

Underneath the hood of the aforementioned cloak Tyro’s scarred face was covered in sweat. Despite the cool breeze that flitted through the massive room he was still roasting. The dark coloring of the material absorbed every bit of heat from the air around him, turning the garment into a portable sauna. Not that he minded, the desert was much, much warmer than this. But clearly this was a sign that his body had begun to lose the natural resistance to heat that all Bone Hunters possessed. The price for his six-month incursion into the agori society. His kinsmen would most likely mock him for it, the loss of one of his natural advantages over their distant cousins. But Fero would understand. He and he alone knew why Tyro had been forced into this predicament, forced to mingle with their lessers. The chieftain might even reward his sacrifice when he returned, victorious.

Tyro glanced up to see an agori, clad in the blue armor that signified his allegiance to the Water Tribe, break away from the mass of pedestrians and walk absently but swiftly in his direction. Had anyone been paying attention they would have noticed something odd about his movements, and, in turn the cloaked figure leaning against the wall. But those inside the crowded promenade were too busy haggling over the price of the merchandise to notice.

It was to this that Tyro owed his practical invisibility. The season of warming had arrived, the closest thing that Bara Magna could have to a ‘Spring’. The villagers of Tesera were in a mad rush to ensure that they had sufficient supplies to support themselves through the upcoming annual drought, their equivalent of the season known to others as ‘Summer’. But all that occurred here was an increase in temperature, from sweltering hot to a temperature one might expect to find on the surface of a small sun. The residents of the planet simply referred to this period unceremoniously as ‘the Heat,’ and usually spent the majority of this three-month period indoors, where it was slightly more bearable.

The Water tribesman did not acknowledge the presence of the Bone Hunter as he stopped in front of the window in the wall beside him. The two had only met twice before, both in preparation for this one, but Tyro believed he had little to fear. Both their earlier rendezvouses had gone exactly as planned, and he had no reason to doubt the success of this one.

“I would’ve thought you’d know better than to wear something like that in public by now,” said Berix, leaning on the windowsill as he stared through the stained glass at the city below. “I know better than to let my armor show,” Tyro responded. “Did you bring what I asked for?” Berix nodded subtly and continue to look through the window before him as if contemplating the view. He pulled a small, sealed package from his satchel and placed on the sill in front of him. He casually slid the box across the polished wood, silently passing it into the Bone Hunter’s armored hand. Tyro lifted it up to his face for a closer examination, slowly turning it over in his hands.

“And you?” Berix held out his hand expectantly.

Tyro produced a small leather pouch from the fold of his cloak. He tossed it into Berix’s waiting palm, then continued to examine the package. It landed with a muffled jingle, the sound of coins hitting coins. The agori opened it tentatively, as if he expected a dune snake to explode out of it.

“This is barely a third of what you promised me!” he exclaimed loudly, drawing several irritated glances from nearby vendors.

“You’ll get the rest once I’ve confirmed I’ve got what I want,” Tyro replied as he slipped the box into his cloak’s pockets.

“Don’t you trust me?”

“My kind trust no one but ourselves.”

Berix stared at him in silence, the first time he had looked at the Bone Hunter since he had arrived. Tyro noticed something different in the agori’s eyes, in his expression. Something he had seen many times before in his long and violent life.

Fear.

The kind of fear you felt before you killed.

Tyro barely had enough time to throw himself out of the way before the first thornax fruit smashed into the railing he had been leaning against mere seconds before, sending pieces of carefully carved wood flying in all directions. He reached for his own weapon, his fingers closing around his blade’s hilt just as a second projectile impacted the floor beside him. He drew his sword as all hell broke loose in the promenade. Agori abandoned whatever deal they had been pursuing to run frantically away from the sounds of combat, charging at the doors in a mad rush to get out of the line of fire.

Tyro lost sight of Berix in the crowd, finding it hard to keep track of the treacherous agori amidst the multicolored chaos around him. He saw a flash of blue in his peripheral vision, moving towards him at an alarming rate. He spun to face the attack as Berix aimed a kick at his stomach. With lightning fast reflexes honed from a life spent in the unforgiving desert, he caught the foot with his free hand, using the hold to yank his opponent off his feet. His sword moved as an extension of his arm, and he brought the flat of his blade down across the agori’s back, knocking him to the ground.

“That was real stupid of you,” Tyro said, placing the tip of his blade onto Berix’s back. “Everyone knows that you shouldn’t cross a Bone Hunter.”

Suddenly something slammed into his abdomen, hurling him away from Berix and into the massive stained-glass window behind him. The glass shattered as his body crashed into it, sending bits of glass flying out into the skyline. The Bone Hunter winced as the shards cut through his cloak and into his flesh; he felt blood begin to trickle down the side of his head. He plummeted toward the ground, falling away from the now-shattered window. His eyes focused on a figure standing in the hole, staring after him with a panicked look on his face. Berix, with a smoking Thornax launcher in his hand.

The ground rushed up to meet him like a Rock Steed after its prey.

The Bone Hunter slammed into a pile of garbage in the middle of an alley. Had the debris not been there to cushion his fall he certainly would have perished, and yet fate had sided with him yet again. He lived, and Berix was going to regret having crossed him.

Tyro lifted his head weakly, his hand reaching for the edge of the pile. He felt unconsciousness closing in on him, its cold grip closing around him like some giant fist. He fought it. The authorities would be here soon, to try and recover a body. He needed to move.

Every muscle in his body aching he slowly stood, balancing precariously atop the unstable garbage heap. He quickly took in his surroundings, taking stock of his situation. He was alone in the alley, though the street that it intersected appeared to be full of pedestrians. In a perfect world he would be able to slip into the crowd, blend in and escape. But Bara Magna was far from a perfect world. His armor and cloak were both dead giveaways that he was not supposed to be there, and the armor he had donned whenever he needed to interact with the villagers was back in his rented apartment.

He glanced around for his sword, muttering a colorful oath under his breath as he realized it was nowhere to be found. He had either dropped it when Berix had shot him or it had fallen somewhere else. Either way, his trusty blade was gone.

Tyro glanced down at himself, noticing for the first time the torn and stained condition of his cloak. Scowling in frustration he tore the garment off and went to discard it onto the pile. He stopped mid-motion, suddenly remembering the package Berix had given him. He reached into the cloak and pulled it out, taping it briefly before shoving it into the satchel that hung from his shoulder. He would deal with it later.

Cautiously, he clambered down the side of the heap opposite that of the exit into the street, wincing all the way. His gut hurt like hell, and his body ached from the impact. It would be a challenge to escape the city, to return to the cave just outside where his mate waited with their Rock Steeds. Then he would rest, wait for his body to heal. Once the Heat passed, he would find Berix, and he would make the Agori pay for what he had done.

Berix had gotten away with a third of his payment and all Tyro had to show for it was a small, probably useless package, a missing sword and more bruises and cuts than he cared to count. He should have seen this coming. All throughout the mission some small, logical part of his mind had been telling him that Berix was going to betray him, and yet he was so desperate to be the one to succeed that he had been reckless. He should have noticed Berix was planning something as soon as he refused to look at him during the trade.

Tyro vanished into the shadows as heavy footsteps began to echo from the entrance to the alley. The guards had arrived at last, but all they would find was a ruined cloak. Nothing that could lead them to him. He was free, free to rest and recuperate.

And when he was ready, he would teach Berix exactly why one should never cross a Bone Hunter.

Characters[]

  • Tyro
  • Fero (Mentioned Only)
  • Berix

Trivia[]

  • This is DeltaStriker's entry in the 2014 Spring Writing Contest. It underwent a thorough edit for grammar and spelling in April 2020, though the content of the story remained the same.
  • Originally titled Thief's Gambit, the title was changed in late 2015 to Honor Among Thieves.
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