Just Another Night at Work

    Darkness was always the time when Aeon had felt most comfortable.  It seemed more private to him, more like he could be himself.  It also helped for him not to feel so self-conscious of himself.  Aeon was a half-elf, and therefore an outcast.  His mother and father had been shamed for their love.  Inter-species breeding was looked upon with  almost the same disgust as incest.  His parents shunned, Aeon had grown up in exile.

    Eventually, his parents had separated out of necessity.  They could not live together and survive.  Aeon was merely cast aside, to fend for himself.  Fend for himself--HA!  More like left to die alone.  Aeon would have starved long ago if not for the appearance of the old man.  Such a wonderful man, that elderly chap, who had taken him in and shown him how to gain a living.  Even when nobody would hire you, there was always thievery, and that was the old man's specialty.

    Aeon was a star pupil, learning the techniques quickly, his elven traits aiding his stealth abilities.  Soon, the young half-elf could pick any lock with ease, and his pickpocket abilities were something to be respected.  He even managed to pick the old man's pocket one night, and the old man claimed not to have had that happen in years.  Aeon had thanked the old man, and promised to repay him.  Now, he was doing so.

    The dark shielded Aeon's form from prying eyes as he made his way across the rooftops.  The target house was close by, he knew it.  Aeon was thrilled to see that the house was splendidly constructed, with great sloping roofs and plenty of windows to provide a sweeping view of the countryside that lay outside the city.  The windows were also good for entering through, which the young thief was able to do with a minimum amount of effort.  The rich so often felt unassailable in their homes, as if they thought nobody would dare to attempt to intrude.

    Aeon took a moment to admire the furnishings of the room he had entered in.  A thick rug of Oriental design lay at his feet, muffling his footsteps.  For this, the thief was grateful.  It always was a plus when things made his job easier.  Mentally, Aeon marked the room as a good place to exit from.  It always helped to be able to muffle your footsteps on the way out.  So far, so good.

    Aeon moved to the door, then paused as he heard a guard outside.  Nuts.  Looked like he'd have to be careful.  Reaching into the pouch around his waist, the thief pulled out a small periscope and moved it under the doorway.  The guard was visible now, and Aeon noticed another guard further down the hallway.  The two seemed to patrol a regular route, which sadly passed directly in his way.  Too bad for them.  The thief pulled a small blowgun out of his pouch and selected two darts.  Cautiously, he opened the door.

    The two guards were bored.  Duty at this house was always so boring.  Nobody was stupid enough to try and break in, because of their presence.  This meant that both guards knew that there was almost no chance of anyone attempting robbery on their shift.  As a result, both were thinking "Wish something interesting would happen" when the darts thudded into their necks.  After grasping at the points of entry, the two guards collapsed, unconscious.

    Aeon chuckled silently to himself.  This was almost too easy.  Realizing that he needed to use the restroom, the thief spotted a door hanging open and went in.  It was a bathroom, which suited Aeon.  After finishing up, the thief noticed that there was another door, which he presumed led to a bedroom judging by the snoring coming from the other side of the doorway.  As the thief left the bathroom, he suddenly heard someone stirring in the other room.

    The master of the house had to use the bathroom.  Shuffling to the door leading to his bathroom, he was surprised to find it locked.  Banging on the door, he demanded "Who's in there?"

    Aeon heard the voice and paused, smirking, before continuing down the stairs and taking a wrong turn into the dining hall.  Never one to pass up the opportunity for free food, Aeon decided to check the kitchen.  The kitchen turned out to be an outbuilding that was connected to the house by a long hallway.  Helping himself to the leftovers from that night's dinner, Aeon still had a piece of mutton in his hand when he silently flitted across the hallway and into the correct room.  Here was the trophy room that the old man had told him about.  In the center of the room, a pedestal with a beautiful gilded sword.  It looked razor sharp, and the handle was encrusted in jewels.  Truly, a beautiful old scimitar.  Aeon gazed at it in wonder, then noticed a growling noise.  

    An elderly hound was advancing, half senile, but still able to make noise.  It growled suspiciously, snuffling at this sudden intruder.  Thinking quickly, Aeon tossed the mutton in his hand to the beast.  The dog was delighted with this gift, and in fact, decided that whomever this intruder was, it was okay with him.  Aeon breathed a sigh of relief and grabbed the sword.  He considered exiting through the windows, but they seemed to be barred.  Shrugging, Aeon walked to the door, deciding to leave the way he came in.  Suddenly remembering something, he scribbled a quick note and left it on the pedestal.

    What he didn't expect was the two first floor guards investigating the growling.  Thinking quickly, the thief bowled into them, the shock of the attack sending the guards back into the other side of the hall.  Aeon dashed up the staircase, to find the Master of the house was coming out of the bathroom, blocking the way to the study.  Turning, the thief dodged into another room, which turned out to be a library.  Unfortunately, the library also seemed to be where a third second floor guard was resting.  Awakened from his slumber, the guard drew his sword and challenged the thief.  

    Having the presence of mind to lock the door behind him, Aeon realized that he had forgotten his knife.  Luckily, he had the gilded sword, and he drew that.  The two combatants circled each other, the guard warily testing the young thief's defenses.  Aeon held back, not wanting to really harm the other if possible.  The two first floor guards and the Master of the house were attempting to hammer down the door now, and Aeon decided that it was time to go.  Attacking suddenly and fiercely, he drove the startled guard back, then easily disarmed him.  The guard wasn't sure what to do, so he did what any man would do in the situation.  He made for the door.  Aeon took this opportunity to look for an exit.  He found one, a window off to his  left.  Sighing at the unfairness of some things, Aeon dove out of the window.  Rolling with practiced ease, he only suffered wounded pride as he went into a thorn bush.  

    Cursing, the thief stood and surveyed his torn cloak.  He'd have to repair it.  The sound of the front door opening brought him back to the matter at hand, and he swiftly melted into the shadows, undetectable to the human eye.  The guards spent a few hours scouring the area, but found nothing.

    The Master of the house went back inside to see what had been stolen.  Rushing to the trophy room, he immediately noticed the gilded sword was missing.  Anger surged through him.  An heirloom of his family, stolen by some wretch.  Casting about, the Master noted that nothing else had been stolen.  Not that it mattered, the sword was enough of a loss.  The very sword that had belonged to his father, and his father's father, was gone.  He would see it no more.  The Master suddenly noticed a note laying on the pedestal where the heirloom had once rested.

    Picking it up, the Master's blood seemed to chill.  It couldn't be, could it?  That thief, a specter from his past.  No, it wasn't possible.  His past was behind him, it had been dealt with.  Yet here in his hand was a simple note.  "Hello 'dad'.  Thanks for the sword.  I assume that it's mine by right anyhow.  Your 'son,' Aeon"  

    The Master's hand shook, and he cast the note aside.  He would deal with the insolent wretch.  A bounty would be placed on the boy's head.  The Master would take back that which was his.

    Aeon returned home to the old man, presenting him with the sword.  The old man was delighted.  Aeon felt no guilt for his crime.  The old man was more of a father to him than the Master of the house ever was.  Surely his tutor deserved such a fine gift on his birthday.

Back to the Refuse Heap