The sun was rising, and Taris pulled the curtains closed to keep the damnable thing out of his safe-house. His purple-flecked red eyes would always hate the light of the sun, because of his nocturnal blood. He’d lost the whole night carousing with his previous mark, but he wasn’t fazed. He pulled out a small bottle from a nearby cabinet opening it and taking a small sip. The potion rushed like fire down his throat, invigorating him, reviving his tired mind and muscles. He could go days without sleep using the potion, though to do so could be dangerous.

A bath first, he thought, discarding his dirtied robes and stepping into the next room where a steaming tub lay ready. His mind wandered as he rinsed off the grime of the previous night. [i]I wonder if she would remember me, even though we hardly met. Aera was very pretty, wasn’t she?[/i] Taris shook his head, his long, horizontal, pointed ears swaying just slightly with the movement. Best not to go there right now. His master was quick to say his biggest weakness lay in his arrogance, but Taris knew better, and the irony of the thought did not escape him. But no, his biggest weakness was a beautiful woman. One would be the death of him, he was sure of this, and had accepted it. He finished his bath and stood, water still gleaming on his jet black skin, causing his muscles to stand out more clearly. As well as his scars.

He took a moment to dry off, before opening a cabinet and selecting a pair of ash-grey trousers and tunic. After putting those on he selected a white bowman’s cloak with a loose, wide hood that accommodated his ears. He retrieved his prized bow and quiver last, before closing himself in the dark of a closet-sized room. Once more the shadow welcomed him into its embrace allowing him the freedom to travel between shadowed places. He emerged in the shadow between two shops, mere steps away from the Palace gates. Once inside he could easily explain his presence as a contestant or servant of the Spymaster should the need arise, but there was no need to walk the streets in daylight, under the hated sun and gathering the stares of a people that hated him for his races crimes, not merely his own. He found it amusing, being hated for raids he’d never had a part of, them not knowing the extent of the crimes he HAD committed.

Taris made his way towards the gate.