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Zilévo lay back in the wet grass and gazed up at the full moon. She stretched out her limbs and offered herself up beauty of the great luminous pearl in the heavens. Zilévo smiled as she watched two wood pigeons fussing about their nest high up in the trees. Other than the sound of the birds' wings beating, the palace was silent.

She closed her eyes. The Moon still glowed silver through her eyelids. Her skin prickled; tomorrow it would be sore, but she didn't care. Right now, everything was perfect.

She must have dozed for a while. A shadow fell across her face and woke her up. Ira was standing there, his bare chest shining with sweat. He was holding a heap of colourful wild flowers in his tiny arms.

[color=Lime]"You're blocking my moon,"[/color] Diana scolded him, but with affection in her voice.

[b]"I brought you something."[/b] Ira said, kneeling down beside her. [b]"Poppies, dandelions and ... mouse-ears, I think. And these ones are—I'm not quite sure what these are ..."[/b]

She propped herself up on her elbow to look. [color=Lime]"They're Moonflowers."[/color]

Ira gave her a worried glance. [b]"Moonflowers? It was bad luck to pick Moonflowers at night. Do you think the gods will know?"[/b]

Zilévo laughed and put her hand on his head. [color=Lime]"I really, really doubt that a prince picking flowers will be at the top of the gods hit list. But let them come—right now!—if they really care.[/color]

She had addressed her final words to the sky, but it remained dark, clear and empty.

[B]"Don't say things like that!"[/b] Ira said after a few moments of silence.

Both burst out in laughter. Zilévo pulled Ira close. As she did so there was a thwack and a whirring sound from off in the distance. Then there was a close-up thunk. Ira turned pale and looked confused.

[b]"Zil."[/b] he said. [b]"I ...[/b]

He looked down.

She followed his gaze.

There was a spear sticking out of his belly, and a masked man standing over them.

***

The midnight bell rang out across the city: a muffled monotone knell that made the night's last stragglers walk just that little bit faster home. Diana eyes snapped open at the sound. She shook her head. That dream again. A memory, really, but it didn't trouble her so much these days. It all happened so long ago!

She looked out over the rooftops. Diana was high up on top of a tower, in the shadows of the colonnade that encircled the roof. From up here she could see everything: the brick and terracotta buildings, bleached by the moon; the pale stone monuments and pyramid temples; —even the harbour— an in the center, her old home, The Cipher.

The shadows was her new home, well not exactly. She had left her old life behind her, deep in the heart of The Cipher. She was a different person now; she had lodgings here (a small room), friends (well, acquaintances) and skills that could provide her with marketable items. She also had an important patron, and tonight she had a job to do that she needed to be getting on with.

Diana shook her head to dismiss her thoughts. It was time to go. With practiced ease she traversed the roof of the small roof of the tower and hopped into the branches of the giant cypress tree that grew in the cemetery. Burying the dead now seemed to be the tradition, times were hard in Xerxes and no one could afford to waste firewood on the dead. A tragic sentiment. From the tree it was an easy jump down onto the cemetery wall, but from the wall it was a rather large leap to the roof of the old bath house. Diana made the jump without a second thought, and even landed quietly. She had done it many times before.

The bath house was almost a ruin. As she navigated its crumbling roofs, she could hear the cries of children from inside. So they were still using the old building as an orphanage. This crazy city was rich enough to do anything and everything except look after its most vulnerable. Diana promised herself she would drop off a donation later, if the night's work went well.

She dropped down to ground level in the far corner of the bath house. Across the courtyard, one final obstacle stood before her: a high clay wall. There were, truth be told, any number of routes she could take over or around the wall, but Diana had always preferred the direct approach. She thumped her right fist into her left palm; the fingers of her leather gloves were stitched with a layer of tough elastic shilajit —a rare substance imported from the far-off Ironheart's. She had coughed up a great deal of clothing and jewelry for it. Her boots were soled with it, too.

She hopped on the spot for a second, then sprinted at the wall. The grip her gloves and boots provided was only temporary, but it was enough to boost her high enough so that she could grab the curved tiles that decorated the top. Her fingers only barely touched them; without the shilajit she would surely have fallen back down. As it was, Diana was able to hoist herself nimbly up until she was crouched atop the wall, surveying the other side.

Gardens and pathways lay before her, monochrome in the moonlight. This park was part of the royal quarter of the city; it would be empty at night, and the entrances guarded. Diana's unconventional approach, however, ensured there would be no witnesses to her arrival. She dropped down off the wall and slipped along a bush-lined avenue—a shadow dressed in soft black leather. Only the statues—life-size clay representations of the gods—saw her pass.

And in the very centre of the gardens: the one being she hated the most. Diana's route took her around the perimeter of the park, but even so she couldn't help but glance over her shoulder at him; the only being who still terrorised her dreams; Enas Amartía.

Her father who abandoned not only her, but the thousands who trusted him with thier lives.

The massive clay statue depicted the Enas muscular in youth, naked and armed with an obsidian spear. It was a few years ago, atop the highest hill in the city, that her youngest brother was murdered before her very eyes, her family scattered, and her father disappeared.

Xerxes. Home to rich merchants, regular kidnappings, constant hunger, Midna, and drowning men. The man Diana was after tonight probably fitted into the first of these categories. The only other person that Diana knew who lived up here was Zeb Zing, the new roavik overseer of a massive trade ring.

From the cover of a low yew tree, Diana staked out the building opposite. A guard was pacing up and down in front of the gate. At the sound of a distant bell, he left his post and disappeared off into the trees of the park. Diana knew that he had a secret appointment with a girl he had flirted with earlier that day. Too bad for him the girl wouldn't keep her promise. Diana smiled to herself—it wasn't as if she could be in two places at once.

When the coast was clear, Diana dashed to the gate. In seconds she was over. Avoiding the portico and the main doors, she made for some steps that went down to a basement-level passage and the servants' entrance. Diana let herself into a kitchen where she paused for breath and listened out for any signs of life. It was silent. Idly, she lifted the lids of some of the earthenware pots. In one she discovered an interesting meat, so she took a nibble.

Then suddenly she paused, the flavour of the meat still on her tongue. She was not alone in the kitchen.

Diana peered into the shadows by the opposite door. The moonlight came in through a small window high in the wall and barely lit the kitchen. But something was there, watching her, panting heavily. The light glimmered off a pair of eyes that were just a couple of feet off the ground. Diana looked away quickly.

[color=Lime]"Hey, boy, it's alright,"[/color] she whispered, keeping her voice level.

The shape in the shadows growled. It padded forward, revealing itself to be an enormous wolfhound. Diana wasn't going to be able to make friends with this animal; most likely it had been set to defend its turf. So she dropped to her knees, met the dog's gaze, and offered out her hand.

[color=Lime]"Come and get me, then."[/color] she said softly.

The wolfhound pounced. Diana twisted her wrist and the beasts jaws clamped down on her forearm. She wore leather vambraces beneath her clothing, which blunted the dog's bite. With her free hand, Diana drew her sickle from its sheath at her back. With one arm still in the beasts jaws, she twisted around, mounted its back and gripped its head between her knees.

Then she brought the pommel of her sword straight down on the back of the dogs neck, knocking it out cold.

[color=Lime]"Naughty boy."[/color] she chided, extricating her arm from the animal's mouth. She wiped the slobber off on a tablecloth.

Diana left the kitchen and found some stairs leading up to the ground floor. She found herself in an antechamber, the kind built to invite visitors to. Thick candles burned in sconces around the walls. The floor was tiled red and white, and in the walls were marbled, even a portrait sat on the back wall. Diana took a moment to examine the painting; at least now it wouldn't be too difficult to identify the man who lived here if she found him in the company of others.

She continued deeper into the house, creeping down a corridor laid with a deep-pile carpet that muffled her steps. Sometimes they just make it too easy, she thought to herself. Diana stopped outside a door that was slightly ajar, light emanating from the room within. She peeped carefully through the crack. It was a bedroom. A man with his back to the door was sitting at a large desk piled high with symbol scrawled tablets.

Diana could tell from the shape of his bald head that she had found her target. Slowly, she drew an obsidian knife from her boot.

The man at the desk was holding a tablet up to read when Diana's knife passed over his right shoulder, sinking deep into the stone. He did a remarkable job of maintaining his composure as he rose from his wooden chair and turned to face her.

[color=Lime]"I have a message for you, merchant."[/color] Diana said amiably as she entered the room. [color=Lime]"Your home isn't secure from thieves and killers."[/color]

The bald man smiled weakly as he tried to control the anger that nevertheless revealed itself clearly in his eyes. He was young, despite his lack of hair, and dressed richly in a red velvet tunic and a black woollen mantle stitched with gold colored thread. [b]"There seems to be plenty of those in Xerxes nowadays. Aside from kidnappers."[/b] he mused, raising his hands cautiously, palms out, in a submissive gesture, [b]"Also, what do you want?"[/b]

Diana ignored the question. [color=Lime]"Do you know what the punishment for corruption in the Poupuli is?"[/color] she asked him. [color=Lime]"I guess you must. Nothing. Due to the disappearance of are Enas. But blackmailing for the throne? Please."[/color]

The senator regarded her warily. [B]"If you want to accuse me of something, maybe you should take your complaint to the Poupuli. Do you know what the punishment for breaking and entering a mans home is?"[/b]

Diana was pacing about the room, taking in the man.
[color=Lime]"A king does not have to be present for justice to be served."[/color] Diana huffed.

[b]"What, will you kill me?[/b] the man gulped.

[color=Lime]"No."[/color] Diana told him. [color=Lime]"Words are just words. What I want you to do is to stop trading for power—and start trading for the betterment of the people."[/color]

He looked at her suspiciously. [b]"Is that all you want me to do?"[/b]

[color=Lime]"Yeah."[/color] Diana said with a smile. [color=Lime]"What did you think I was going to do? Carve a permanent warning into that shiny head of yours?"[/color]

The merchant actually laughed in relief. Then his expression froze.

Diana turned around, following the merchant's stare. A man stood in the doorway of the room. He was tall, bearded and wore a coat of boiled leather scales. His dirty boots and cloak suggested that he had travelled a distance to get here. When he finally understood the situation, he drew a wicked-looking two-handed longsword: it was plain and notched, but had a gleaming sharp point.

Diana reached for her own weapon. This was an unwelcome complication, but she fought to stay calm and in control.

[color=Lime]"Another dog to deal with."[/color] she muttered.
 
Diana and the intruder faced-off across the study.

[b]'Who is this girl, Rola?"[/b] the newcomer asked the merchant.

The merchant reassumed some of his authority. [b]"Nobody—a thief; get her!"[/b]

The man lunged at Diana with his sword. She hopped back to avoid its deadly point. Diana's own sword was only about two forearms in length, but it was razor-sharp along both edges. It was no good for deflecting a heavy blade, though, and she would need to get up close to her opponent to do any damage.

Rola cringed as the intruder swung his sword in a wide arc that cut through the rooms curtains. Diana was forced back again. Her elbow knocked against something hard: a tall floor-standing candle holder. She grabbed it and flung it at her opponent. As he struggled to shove it to one side, Diana moved in for the kill. But her blade snagged on the interlocking scales of the man's armour, and she realised that she had missed her chance.

The big bearded man brought his sword down awkwardly in a close overhead chop. Diana twisted away and the sword ran down her left side, peeling away her leather and scraping over the obsidian bands that she wore underneath. She panicked slightly and threw herself down onto the carpet, then rolled underneath the merchants heavy oak desk.

The fallen candle holder had set fire to the study's thick curtains, and Rola had taken off his mantle and was desperately trying to beat the flames out with it. Diana leaped to her feet on the opposite side of the desk to the big swordsman; this time she had her khoshep in one hand and the merchants stone tablet in the other. Her opponent kicked at the desk, trying to shove it towards Diana and pin her to the wall, but she jumped up onto it as it moved, hurling the stone before her.

The man instinctively batted it away with his sword, but the action left him exposed for a fraction of a second. Diana hadn't stopped moving; she sprang off the desk and fell upon her opponent, her blade held low and pointing upwards.

This time she didn't waste her opportunity; her narrow point slid easily beneath the scales of the man's armour and entered his heart.

He hit the ground dead, with Diana sat astride his chest.

She exhaled in relief and turned to look at the senator, a wild grin on her face. [color=Lime]"I told you your house wasn't secure!"[/color]

Rola was standing in the middle of his ruined study, clutching the smoldering remains of his woollen mantle. [b]"You killed him."[/b] he gasped.

[color=Lime]"It seems that many want you dead merchant man. You must be extremely careful, not many people like those who stir the pot."[/color]

[b]"Take anything, trade it for something."[/b] Rola sighed, [b]"and I'll make an effort to forget your face, let alone the fact that you broke into my home at all. Give me a few days to prepare my excuses and I'll go and try and explain this mess to the Populi."[/b]

[color=Lime]"That's so very considerate of you[/color]' Diana drawled, taking her leave. [color=Lime]"You'll make a smart merchant yet."[/color] She went back downstairs and let herself out the front door. The senator's guard was returning from his illicit night time rendezvous in the park. Diana gave him a friendly smile as she passed by.


* * *


The next morning, the children of the bathhouse would wake to find that a package had been left on their doorstep. Opening the leather bag (that was stained with what looked like blood) they would find valuable items of trade. The elders would be delighted, and would immediately begin writing a list to take to the markets: the children would not go hungry for weeks now.


[hider=Summarino]
-Meet Diana, a lover of the moon, the fourth-born of Amartía and a thief and assassin.

-She awakens from a daydream (nightdream?) and leaves for a misson.

-She sneaks inside a rather large home, in which she infiltrates.

-She hurts a bog thing. (You mad)?

-She threatens the ower and essentially warns him of hos corruption.

-They are interrupted by a second assasin, who attacks Diana and geys wrecked.

-Diana gets the message across and does a good deed.
[/hider]