Than sat at a table in one of the slightly more reputable (if there was such a thing) taverns in Zantaric, carefully wrapping small silver coins in cloth and placing them into several small pouches. Any other nine year old might have been swinging his legs under the bench or sticking his tongue out in an attempt to look like a picture of intense concentration, but Than knew better than to do either of those things. Holding silver in Zantaric was dangerous enough, but being a stripling of a boy and drawing attention to yourself whilst holding silver in Zantaric was a sign of either lunacy or suicidal tendencies.
Of course, Than wasn't any old nine year old boy. He was perhaps the youngest person in Zantaric, since most mothers preferred to raise their children away from dodgy dealings and crime, and he had lived in the village-town since he was a few months old. It hadn't been an easy upbringing, but given what he was it was a lot easier than some might have had it. A stiletto knife was stick to the table by his hand, the hilt pared down to fit his smaller hands, and lightning flickered around the blade without his even having to think about it. His feet rested on the floor of the tavern, since he was closer in size to a twelve year old than a nine year old with long lanky legs and a slim muscular build rather than one covered with puppy fat. Night-sky blue eyes occasionally glanced around the room, looking out from a sharply angled face with skin that was a charcoal grey as befit a shadow elf. Not that Than was a shadow elf, but his mother had been, and that was enough to stain his skin that colour as he spent more and more time in the sun. His hair was the same colour as his eyes, cropped as the back but hanging in thin braids along the line of his jaw, with silver charms jingling as he carefully moved his head around.
He was waiting for someone. His father hadn't told him who, but he guessed that they wanted something to do with necromancy. Already his father had traveled to the old temple site, with orders for Than to follow when the right person showed up. No description of the right person had been given, no name, nothing that might help at all, but Than guessed that they would recognise him. Unlike most in Zantaric, after all, Than had a family name and a crest. His clothing today was made of a satin-like material in the same charcoal grey colour as his skin, with a night sky blue cloak resting next to him and a crest with a lightning bolt sewn into his tunic above his heart. His father always was one for making first impressions count, although Than was just as good as fading into the shadows as he was at standing out.
Still waiting, he clicked his fingers and handed one of the small pouches to the serving girl who placed a cup on his table in silence. The viscous liquid inside was blood cut with red wine, a potent drink for any child but the only thing that Than would drink in this place. He didn't ask where they got the blood; unlike his father he wasn't a complete blood snob. His father wouldn't even touch wine, which was the main reason why Than had started making sure that he mixed his blood with the stuff. He took a sip without comment as the serving maid fled, since he was quite used to people fleeing from him. It was his father's fault, since whatever soul a child was meant to have had been all but eclipsed by whatever magic it was that had been done to make sure Than stayed alive. The youngster found it amusing that a necromancer would fear for his son's life, but given the talents blooming within him it was perhaps understandable that the old man would worry. Not that he ever said he did, of course. Necromancers were supposed to be learned and emotionless creatures, perhaps even morbid or macabre. But Than knew it any way. His dreams were far too vivid to be just dreams, but his father discouraged talk of such things. Than was what he was, and he would have to learn to deal with that himself as he got older. As he was getting older now, just waiting. How long could a person take to get to Zantaric any way?
