The thief strode through the streets, alley and squares Lhavit was rich. His grin was etched on his face, his footsteps matched those of the person he pursued. His ears were cocked, since the old man he was stalking stopped now and then with seemingly random intervals. Every time that happened, he was caught off guard, and only stopped walking a few ticks later.
He had no idea if the man knew he was being followed. He hoped he didn’t, but it was never safe to assume. That could become your demise, something he’d learned throughout his short life. He didn’t claim he didn’t assume anything, of course he did, but he tried not to.
For example, when your opponent in a fight acts like a complete novice, then you’d think he’s inexperienced no? That doesn’t have to be true. He could be acting like a novice, but actually be master level in combat. Of course that seemed impossible to do, since his body would have been trained to make no unnecessary movements, but you never knew for sure. Never ever underestimate an opponent.
That rule applied on other things as well. As such, the bat pursued his target with the greatest caution possible, treating him as if he already knew he was following him. Still, because he couldn’t just assume the man knew about him, he kept shadowing the old man. The dilemma this situation presented wasn’t something Bran liked to think about. If the man had noticed the thief already, then this could be a trap and the bat should flee. But, since the didn’t know for sure that the man was aware that he was being followed, he also should keep stalking him. The bat sighed. The only path he could take was the middle ground. It was safer.
That middle ground was nothing more than continuing to follow the old man, but doing so with the greatest caution. Which was what he had been doing all day. It was an exhausting thing to do, but he carried on. He needed to observe this man’s patterns before he could break into house. If he didn’t, he might pick the wrong time and that would be a disaster.
He noticed they were crossing the bridge to Tenten peak. Why would the old man go there? There wasn’t that much to see there. Well, apart from the Catholicon, a few plazas, the library,…Ah! The Library. Made sense. The old man seemed to be the type that liked reading. He nodded. Well, since knew where the man was going, he could take another route and get there first. Great idea. I’ll do that.
He curved the first corner he saw, it was one to the right this time. A small alley, looking identical to the dozens of others in the crystal city. He stopped for a moment, recalling the map of the streets he had stored in his mind. How far away was he from the library? He guessed about six chimes. If he went the normal way, meaning staying on the ground. But he could take the roofs.
Although people and guards might notice him and give chase. Something he didn’t want right now. He sighed. The road it was then. What way did he have to take? He thought deeply, recollecting the information locked inside his mind. His current position was…here. So he should take a route parallel with the one of the old man. As such he should take the next left turn, then walk straight ahead for a couple of chimes, and then take another left bend.
Right, he ought to get going. He moved his legs, speeding up to a jogging pace. His breathing was rhythmic and matched the movements of his arms and legs perfectly, taking in oxygen when he needed it. He turned left, and entered a long street, somewhat crowded, but not too much. He quickly reached the end of it, taking the next left bend. The thief skidded to a stop, placing his hands on his bended knees, his upper body was bended downward, recovering from the brief run.
After a chime or so, he was back to normal, and positioned himself against a nearby wall, keeping an eye on the entrance of the street he believed the old man would appear from. He was right, not too long after he’d let himself lean against the side of the building, the old man came into sight. Seemingly lost in thought, the man ascended the glittering stairs and entered the doors of the library, passing the Shinya guards.
***
How long had it been since the man had entered? Two bells? Syna had almost switched places with Leth, who was emerging from the horizon, willing to take place at his throne in the evening sky. The bat sighed deeply. He was bored. Really bored. Waiting for the target to return wasn’t his favourite activity. To make things worse, he didn’t have anything to do at all, except fiddling with his clothes and stroking his goatee. Doing that for two bells in a row, non-stop was impossible.
He yawned. His belly grumbled, mouldy telling the bat what it thought of the situation. “You know Bran, why don’t we go home. I’m empty, and I need some food. You know you need it as well.” The bat shook his head. I can’t just leave, that man is my target and I need to stay here to wait for him to return. “Maybe he left already via the backdoor.” Nonsense, the library has no backdoor.
Only then he realised what he was doing. Gods darnit! I’m going insane! I’m already starting to talk to my stomach out of boredom! He sighed again. I should go. I know enough already. I’ll just break in during Dawnrest. He’s usually sleeping around that period. That would be the best solution, besides if I’ll stay here any longer, I’m going to die from boredom and starvation.
Now that that was decided, he unhitched himself from the wall with a movement of his shoulders. He proceeded to take the first step forward when a tingling feeling in his right foot let him know it had pins and needles in it. It felt as if someone had replaced his foot for a bag filled with sand. He cursed. Stubbornly moving onwards, he tried to get rid of the annoying feeling in his foot by slamming onto the floor with every step he took. It worked. Kind of.
The sandbag feeling was now swapped with an enormous tickling sensation. The thief had a hard time keeping himself form laughing. After a few chimes his foot was back to normal and he picked up the pace, heading home to prepare for his break in and to go hunting. After that he’d take a good day’s rest, sleeping until the sixteenth of fall. |
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