Chapter III: Prying Eyes

Before Sylvia went to fetch the new recruit, she set on meeting with Ivan Kar. They'd arranged to meet at the end of East Lane where they'd have the comfort of privacy. While the sun was high and blazing, East Lane was packed by cars, merchants, and tourists. However, once the moon took reign it'd be completely deserted aside from the few drunken men returning home from taverns or brothels.

As the night ticked away, Sylvia tapped her foot on the ground, her arms crossed. He was late, she thought. Ivan Kar. A well-known name in Aftan's underworld. A con artist, manipulator, and liar who'd made his fortune at the expense of others' lives. In that badly shaped ugly skull of his, the only thoughts that'd cross were closely related to money. His greed was said to outweigh any other in Aftan. From the few encounters she'd have with him, Sylvia corrected the saying. No doubt his greed outweighed any other in all fourteen countries.

However, he was still part of The Crows. Sylvia wondered how he'd gone so long without betraying them in exchange for gold and silver but she'd heard rumors about his life in debt to Master Corvus. In that sense the two were similar. Oddly, he'd hid his affiliation with The Crows from others outside the guild. It baffled Sylvia why but she didn't mind or ask as his name could soil the guild's reputation.

Sylvia pondered if he'd betray her once she ran The Crows. The two weren't on the friendliest terms, and she despised everything about him. His annoying personality, comical face with his nose scrunched inward toward his mouth, and the fact that he was always late. Though she couldn't deny his proficiency in magic. In terms of spell power, he was unmatched among the few mages inside The Crows. So he'd be essential in tonight's mission, just in case their someone had fought back.

Her sharp ears twitched as someone approached ahead of her. One of her hands reached for her thin daggers, ready to kill. Though as they'd approach she saw through the night that it'd been Ivan. He walked with uneven steps, some small others large, and an ugly smile plastered on his face that'd revealed his yellow bucked two front teeth.

"You're late," Sylvia deadpanned.

Throughout all their encounters, Ivan had spoken in a naturally loud voice. So, the difference in his tone stroke Sylvia. Softly and quietly, he said, "Sorry, I'm late!" he scratched his head, "but how lucky of me to be greeted by five beautiful women."

Sylvia did well to hide the surprise on her face. Five? There were others lurking in the shadows? Spies, she thought. Usually, she'd be the one hiding amongst the shadow, gathering information. Now the tables had been turned on her. Their presence had gone unnoticed until now. How could she be this foolish? She glanced around, but nothing odd struck out. According to Ivan, four of them, likely women. Her ears couldn't hear any noticeable footsteps either so she assumed they'd been stationary.

An anxious Sylvia held her tongue from speaking as thoughts rushed into her head. The perpetrators held an advantage in numbers and their positions were unknown. Buildings surrounded the two on their left and right, providing abundant positions for the spies to stay hidden from Sylvia and Ivan's line of sight while still providing a clear view of the two.

As quiet as a mouse, Ivan whispered, "Think you can handle two?"

Sylvia nodded yet held her tongue.

"Good. Split them up."

Ivan, as relaxed as he could, spun around, keeping everything seeming natural and unforced to the prying eyes. Keeping the pattern of his large and then short step, he walked away.

Slyvia did the same, turning before heading in the opposite direction of where Ivan moved. As she gained some distance she heard soft footsteps. They were quiet and hard to track but she was sure she heard two sets of feet following her. She sucked in her lips, holding tightly onto her breath as her body relaxed, heart speed slowing down. She concentrated on where the footsteps were produced. There was one set of feet high and one low. Though the exact positions, she couldn't tell.

As her gaze shut, and focus grew, she connected the pieces together. On her left, crouched on a bakery's roof. She didn't dare look to confirm though, however, she trusted in her ears. The other still remained unknown.

One of Sylvia's hands slipped towards her belt where she kept her daggers clipped on. There were eight in total, all bearing the same design of a Crow etched into the steel. Her weapons were always on her personal, hidden by an overly large shirt that'd reached down to her femur. Slowly, she tugged on a thin dagger. With the dagger in one hand, she halted. Adrenaline flowed back into her veins as she released her breath. When it came to picking locks, Sylvia was a complete novice. Lurking in the shadows, she was still learning. However, when it came to throwing blades, no one came close in comparison.

The edged steel of the dagger impaled into their necks, splitting their windpipe before they could even make out a scream. The loud thud as the body rolled down the roof and hit the floor flushed Sylvia's worry that perhaps she'd missed. The other spy reacted poorly, stumbling back and knocking over a garbage bin. To her right, in the alley. Sylvia sprinted and found the other cornered.

The woman or that's what she had assumed, wore a gray cloak that hid her face from Sylvia, draping down to the ground. It looked light and the fabric closely resembled string produced by Eastern Huntress Spiders. She was backed against a fence that was too high to climb and too tight to squeeze in between the bars.

"State who sent you and what guild you're from," said Sylvia, unclipping another dagger to threaten the woman.

The question was met with no reply, just the sound of heavy breathing. Tension and heavy silence filled the air, neither side moving...