“Should I fear the shadows?”

Laila’s eyes flicked from the watery ale she had been staring into to watch a man in his mid-fifties plop down in the seat across from her, interrupting her internal musings as she sat tucked away in her little corner table. By her smile, however, it was clear that it was a welcome distraction and by the glass of wine she pushed at him it seemed to be an expected one too. “There are Ghosts in the shadows,” she replied, reciting their countersign quietly enough so as to not let her voice carry over to the nearest table, “and let the tyrants tremble in their beds, for the shadows are ever watchful.”

“Indeed,” he spymaster said and took an experimental drink of the offered wine. If her own watered down swill was any indication, Laila suspected that the wine would fare no better; at his slight wince she knew she was right. He sighed and pushed it aside, crossing his arms and looking his pupil over. “You’ll be going as an army veteran turned merc, then?” 

“You know what they say, Hafiden, the best lies are truths with a couple omissions thrown in.” She wore earthen colored breeches and a tunic overlaid with well maintained, if not worn, leather armor, a fraying cloak of the imperial scouts, soft soled boots, and a slim sword and dagger hung off her belt. The clothes were loose enough to allow her to properly hide a multitude of throwing daggers too, and a bit of dirt on her face and oil raked through her mousy hair gave her the compelling look of a mercenary come fresh from the road to the capital city from a long trip. It wasn’t like she could run across the rooftops dressed in the shadowy garb of a Nightfighter, cape billowing out behind her in broad daylight and knives glittering dangerously in hand. Hardly inconspicuous, that’d be, especially when Ghosts weren't supposed to exist.

“Aye,” he nodded, having been the one to teach her that lesson. He procured a few sealed letters from inside his shirt and held them out to her and she immediately tucked them away. “You can use those to contact local Ghost circles when you come across the larger towns. It will be useful to have a few extra sets of trained eyes to keep watch in the highly populated areas. The one in the back is for the circle closest to the… scene of the incident. They’ll know more than anyone the current situation once you get there. Use them.” 

Laila grunted her assent and stood from the table, her leader a moment behind her in the movement, and the two clasped arms in farewell like the mercenaries they were pretending to be. “I’ll send back word when I can.” She slung the bag that had been sitting at her feet, a crossbow and quarrel of bolts lashed to opposite sides of it, over one shoulder and turned to make for the door.

“Lass,” Hafiden called and she threw him a half glance over her back, “Take care of him.” The corner of her mouth twitched up into a crooked grin and she pushed her way out of the crowded tavern and into the more heavily crowded streets. A mere ten minute walk at a brisk pace would bring her to the foot of the Empire’s seat of power and she would start on her next mission with vigor. She hadn’t asked Hafiden if the Emperor would be aware that one of his Ghosts would be present in the ranks of his party, but she suspected that their liege would at least not be surprised at the prospect. Hell, he might have even been told by one of her betters. Either way it was of little concern to her, she supposed for although her orders were bordering on the impossible, they were of simple enough wording: Protect the Emperor, figure out what in the hell this monstrous plague was, and stop it. Simple.

When the whitewashed gates of the imperial palace finally stood before her, Laila couldn’t help but let her eyes go wide to take in the splendor of it. The farmer’s daughter in her was awed by the size and architecture of it, and the Ghost daunted by its convoluted system of hallways and passages and the hidden dangers she was sure lurked behind every tastefully decorated corner. But still she settled both her glee and dread with a roll of her shoulders as she walked through the gate’s threshold and into the stately gardens, adopting a state of carefully bored observation instead.

Already people had gathered before and near the royal family. To nobles from some of the oldest bloodlines of the empire to a boy who looked of the streets, the Emperor’s call had attracted all kinds. Keen eyes the color of thunderclouds rolled over each and every person present. Being well learned in the peoples of the Empire as a Ghost would be expected, Laila recognized each one of the three gathered nobles immediately, as well as recognizing the Emperor’s ever present Knight Commander and a scholar of the academy’s stock. The young, weaponless lad was somewhat of an unexpected surprise as was the man cocooned in armor the Laila was positive didn’t originate from Caradia. The last she did not trust immediately. There was something… off… about him, something more than the painstaking obviousness of his appearance. She couldn’t quite place it, however, and she didn’t like that one bit.

She’d keep an extra eye on him, Laila decided, and finally let her gaze slide away from him. There were more important things than his personal puzzle at the moment, unless he should prove involved in the strange happenings of late somehow. She’d have plenty of time to mull over curiosities later, and she supposed that now was the time to introduce herself.

Maintaining a proper distance and awareness of keeping hands away from even her hidden arsenal of weaponry, lest the Emperor’s overzealous guardian think Laila would be better off with a sword sticking though her chest, the woman approached the royal family with not the silent glide of the spy she was, but the confident step of the soldier she appeared to be. The women bent low at the waist. “Your Royal Majesties, I am at your service.”