A great fire danced on logs of wood, stuffed in an expensive-looking fireplace. Long shades slowly moved along the walls as a man walked before him. The hall was wide, almost entirely covered in shadows, except for the space before the fireplace, which had a warm, auburn tone.
The light glinted on the razor-sharp blade of a curved dagger. Nothing but a shadow moved on the dark surface, slowly slipping closer to the fire on the wooden planks, supporting the ceiling. It was dark, as silent as whispering breeze, and even the sharp eyes of a hawk would have difficulties noticing the pair of azure eyes, shining in the dark like flames.
It could have been just a breeze, flowing through one of the open windows. It could have been just a spark of fire, jumping off the logs. It could have been anything, if something - the noble lord before the fireplace didn't hear a thing, anyway.
Athran, entirely covered in soft black clothes, landed right in one of the shadows. Not a bit of him could be seen, except for his eyes and a small part of face around them. His steps on the stone tiles were soft and silent. This was going to be another perfectly performed task... And a lot of heavy, tingling coins in his wallet. There was only one thing needed.
The head.
If he gets the head, he will be paid in gold. Real gold. And he was going to make sure it will rain.