How It Is

The fucker’d come back again.

Myrri had closed off all other paths at this point; she gritted her teeth as she crouched in the shadows, watching the guild’s scout peer into latest abandoned corner her gang had made into a home. Right now it was thankfully unoccupied except for herself but, well… it was just luck that this was the case this time, something that pissed the young dwarf off. She’d been getting really good at keeping their spots watched, keeping track of everything that might prove a threat to her and hers, and yet, here, this asshole had still managed to stroll on in like it was nothing. The myriad attempts she’d made at killing his interest off had apparently fallen flat.

She palmed her knife and tried to ignore her rising heartbeat. Trying to close the distance without making a sound.

Honestly, it was a miracle her best friend had gone so long without this kind of interest. There’d been less persistent attempts at recruitment in the past but Myrri had managed to chase them off Tommy’s scent with only minor effort; a young sorcerer was always going to be a handy pick-up for an employer but one with difficulties at keeping a handle on his powers perhaps too much trouble to put the time into. Emphasis on that point had served her well before but this time… well, fuck, the dickhead had almost seemed to consider it a plus.

And Myrri didn’t trust him one bit to do right by her stone-faced but soft-hearted bestie. Not one recruiter had ever come close to meeting her lofty standards for him, but the Guild? They’d do better if they asked her to come work for them, frankly, but no. What they wanted was a nice easy source of magic. Someone they could get their hands on young enough to shape and mould into what they wanted.

A weapon.

She stepped in a touch closer, glancing the scout over, up and down. The guy obviously didn’t feel threatened; he was wearing armour, but not the whole set, just a breastplate and a few bits on the arms probably worn for looks rather than protection. Nothing to protect him from the cold edge of a dagger. Myrri had never killed before, not once, but she’d always known the time would come; perhaps she’d even known the reason why. Thomas has always been firm that he wouldn’t kill for the gang, even when the head of their little group had pressed him on on it. The reasons worried Myrri plenty enough as it was. He was too emotional, too driven by his passions, and those factors coupled with his raw power… well. The wrong move could do too much damage to the overly delicate heart hidden beneath it all, and so, the very much not emotional Myrri had long prepared herself. She liked Thomas as he was. No fucker had the right to ruin that. To take him away.

Her breaths grew laboured as she got closer, readying herself, coming within a hair’s width and preparing to strike… when the man whirled around and attempted to kick right at her head.

Everything at that point involved exactly zero thought. Myrri did not fully manage to dodge, taking a soft hit to the head, but the blow was not enough to stop her from lunging at the bastard and just. Slicing. Stabbing. Countless hours of time spent training and readying herself for this moment only barely made themselves known in her hands as she lashed out, and he hit her in the meantime, oh, he did, but she couldn’t let that matter, she couldn’t, so she sunk the blade into his flesh and it was messier than it should have been, awfully messy, so she stabbed again and again and one more time before—

Blood spurted. She felt it on her face, mingling with what he’d managed to draw from her own veins. Myrri sat back and watched as the guild’s nosy little scout gurgled his last, exhaling sharply as she pulled the knife out. It felt… strange. Not pleasant. Not unpleasant. Just… a thing. That had happened. That needed to?

…yeah. She inhaled sharply and stood up, dropping the knife and considering the next step. Soon the gang would come back and she’d not be able to hide this from them, but that was fine. Myrri would find an excuse, Tom would never find out he was the reason, and later on they’d move on from it. That was just how it was, that was how it had to be.

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