Izurich
Ti
Bastian
Lewascan2
Otakuforreal
VYRIK
Adding insult to injury...
Vyrik, desperate to minimise the calamity he was causing, shot up from the floor with haste and frantically reached out to support the blurred figure before him, the one he knocked into, the one he didn’t want to fall from the balcony. He grabbed at the figure and held them tight ensuring they were stable, his heart calming a little as they were. His blinking eyes recovering sight just in time to notice the red face of a wildly furious noble woman staring daggers at him and the inappropriate placement of one of his hands on her chest, as a violent slap connected with his face and sent him stumbling to the side with a great sting resounding in his cheek.
The lady was truly livid, it had appeared as if her body didn’t know how to contain such levels of rage, and all her anger, fear and aggression had been released into that single mighty attack. Words were lost to her and instead a shrill scream escaped her throat and rang high in the air.
”Shite.” Vyrik groaned. His voice lost to the cry piercing his ears and drawing even more attention their way than his actions already had. If people hadn’t seen him before then they had now likely at least heard her. It would have been easy for him to just jump down from the balcony, the fall being nothing to him, but he was keenly aware of how many eyes were probably pointed in his direction now. Soon, hands were reaching at him from behind. Other people on the balcony.
Just wanting to get out of view as quickly and subtly as possible and for this entire mess to be over with, he acted with a lack of fore-thought that could only be brought on by the heart racing moment of embarrassment, fear and panic.
Vyrik pushed through the doors leading from the balcony and into the house and turned to shut and lock them behind him. It hurt to put weight on his right leg but that was the smallest of his problems right now.
”Shite, shite!” he swore, standing in a large opulent clean room. It was a bedroom of sorts, given the large four post wooden bed in the centre of the far wall bearing more silk covered fluffed pillows than Vyrik had ever seen in his life. Vyrik thought it was criminal to call this space a room, for it was bigger than most houses he had ever lived in.
He had broken into some nice houses in Revidia but nothing like this. The sheer sophisticated indulgence of it all.
A banging on the balcony door shook him from his hypnosis and his eyes immediately went back to the bed where a young boy had been sitting on its edge. Feet unable to touch the ground, dressed like all other pretentious high noble children, eyes wet with recent tears, he now just sat staring back at Vyrik with an uncertain shock.
”Are you, are you robbing us?” a meek soft sobbing voice asked.
”No!” Vyrik quickly exclaimed. Raising open hands out to the child. ”No no, just visiting. I don’t like any of this stuff anyway.” he added playfully with a shrug. ”Say, why are you crying?”
A quick conversation ensued as Vyrik searched for a way out, followed by a promise that he wasn’t sure he could keep. Turns out the boy who was just 10 name days old was disappointed that he hadn’t got the gift yet. But not as disappointed as his overbearing mother was. His sister was a part of it but he wasn’t allowed to watch or enjoy the ceremony until he was a part of it. So in exchange for his help, Vyrik promised to teach him. That whole exchange happened rather fast as the boys mother was banging on the balcony and what was presumably guards, were banging on the front door.
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As Vyrik sat, hidden in a closet he listened to the boys distant voice guide the guards to a back window and tell them of the mage who ran through the house and escaped out there. Vyrik listened very closely for hint of betrayal but none seemed to come. The child was an eerily good liar. Even down to the fake details of his appearance. The guards were quick to follow the boys fake lead and poured back out to search in the direction they were given. One man remained however to see to the lady of the house. A moment later they both left the house too. While Vyrik waited in the oversized closet he found a cloak that would just fit without seeming too ridiculous. It hid his giveaway hair and concealed a little of his face.
Things soon settled back to normal and when the coast was clear Vyrik was lead to the back door. The boy stopped, staring at him and held up a bedazzled jewelled necklace dangling from a clenched fist. For a moment Vyrik was extremely confused. The thing must be worth a fortune judging by the gold, silver and sparkling gems that adorned it.
”My mother will notice this missing soon, its one of her favourites and the blame will fall onto you. I don’t know how long that will take, probably not for days if you are lucky, but it will happen. Then you will be even more of a criminal and another more serious search for you will begin. I’ll put it back when you come back to teach me, just don’t leave it too long.”
Vyrik had to hand it to the arrogant little snot nosed brat. He had some fire and determination in him along with a sharp mind and some bravery too. If he had the gift he would likely become a proficient user. What could Vyrik teach him that expensive tutors could not though. He didn’t need the ire of this wealthy child following him, he was far too smart and ruthless. Things were already bad enough. He gulped as he realised the task at hand. With only a nod of acknowledgement he snuck out into the street and instantly turned his gift to focus on all the voices around him, listening intently for signs that he was being pointed out or noticed. While walking his mind went back to the first conversation he had with the child and he realised he had been played. Was any of it true?
With a defeated sigh he moved into the crowd, trying to hide his limp as made his way to the groupings. It looked to be almost over. Had he missed his calling? How would he know who his teacher was now? What sort of impression did that leave. He groaned to himself. It had been a long day already. Just then a small piece of parchment was put into his hand. He looked up to catch the very nondescript delivery man walking away. Clothes neither rich nor poor, all features plain, and just like that he disappeared into the crowd.