Tyson stared at the night sky that swallowed the Soulfire lamps that lit the street he walked.
"How come nothing ever happens when we have to patrol the street?" He asked, dragging his boots along the cobbled path.
The man walking alongside him shrugged.
"Honestly, I don't mind it. It's like being paid to take a walk. Why would we want any problems?"
"I feel like we are just wasting our time. I mean, we trained for months to fight and defend the public, but all I have done is walk the streets, break up arguments, and collect taxes. This is not at all how I pictured this," Tyson replied as he followed a cat running along the bar wall.
"Join the city guard."
"It'll be fun, they said." He said in a mocking voice.
"I want to fight and defend and do my actual job." He unsheathed his sword, studying it.
"I see why they gave us this awful equipment now. What's the point of new gear if we don't even use it?" he gave the sword a practiced swing.
"You know, after tonight, I think I will ask for a transfer, maybe to the military or something. What do you think, Malric? Is the war on the frontline better than this?" he stopped and looked at the man who stopped a few steps later.
"It's up to you, as I said earlier, I don't mind getting paid to do nothing. I've yet to draw my sword on a person, and I hope it stays that way." Malric said.
They started to walk again.
The silent streets were lined with businesses. With most lights out, only a few were alive with people, mostly the bars, but some business owners preparing for the monthly tax collection.
Tyson hated collecting taxes. He felt terrible and saw the pain in the eyes of the people he collected from. The only positive thing about his job was the tax exemption.
The Sleeping Giant's Tavern drew closer as they walked along their route. They always found a way to time the end of their shift to land at their favorite bar.
"Finally, the light at the end of the tunnel," Malric exclaimed as the massive statue of a one-eyed giant came into view.
Tyson couldn't help but smile at his partner's excitement.
"See, it's not so bad, a nice walk and free ale for the night? Come on! You can't beat that!" Malric said as he picked up his pace.
As they approached, Tyson noticed something wasn't right. There was no noise coming from the tavern, which was unusual for the busiest bar in town.
"Do you hear that?" Tyson said as he slowed.
"Hear what? I hear noth-" Malric came to a sudden stop.
"Tyson, I hear nothing... where is everyone?"
Tyson looked at his partner.
"Why would I know where they are? I've been with you all night..."
A high-pitched scream filled the quiet night as a woman stumbled out of the tavern; terror was frozen on her face.
Tyson felt something in him rise as he slowly drew his sword.
'Fear? No... excitement?was he excited that a terrified woman came running out of the tavern?'
He shook his head as he tried to study the situation. He couldn't see any other figures inside when the door swung open.
"See what happens when you wish for more…" Malric said with a flat look.
"Miss, are you ok?" Malric asked as he approached the terrified woman.
The woman fell to her knees and let out a shallow moan as she fell face first. A black blade plunged into her lower back, and blood covered her entire backside.
Seeing this, Malric hurried and knelt beside the woman.
"Get ready to fight, Mal," Tyson said as he walked toward the tavern door.
Malric stared at Tyson in disbelief.
"Are you going to walk in there and ignore this lady? What is wrong with you? She needs our help."
Tyson stopped and studied the lady on the floor. Her blood was rapidly filling the street and creating a pool around her. He looked at Malric and started to say something when the door opened, and two men walked out.
Startled, Tyson turned around and put his sword up.
"Who are you?" Tyson asked as he eyed both men.
They were dressed in black robes, and each wore a hood that shaded their face. They were taller than him but seemed to be thin. He could not get a good look as the robes were loose and did not give much away.
The two strangers looked Tyson and Malric over, and before either of the guards could react, the two men were on the move.
In a blur they split between the two guards, each holding a black sword.
The closest to Tyson lunged at him with a wild strike, forcing him to parry with his sword. The black sword went right through his blade.
'Well, that's not supposed to happen...'
His thoughts broke through his concentration. He wasn't the best at fighting, but he felt he could hold his own with his sword. But now it's broken, and he was nearly defenseless.
Panic set in as he tried to gather himself.
The man did not let up and swung his sword again, aiming for his chest, and with the shattered blade Tyson blocked again while trying to scramble away, the force of the blow helping with his retreat.
Tyson found his footing and prepared for another attack.
This time he was ready.
The hooded figure tensed, and a dense black shadow coated his already black sword. Whisps of shadow escaped the blade as he lunged again.
Tyson's eyes went wide.
'WE ARE GOING TO DIE.'
'WE DIDN'T TRAIN FOR THIS.'
His heart slammed against his chest as the full weight of their situation set in.
"a user….?" He managed to breathe out.
He stepped to the side, blocking once more with his broken sword, this time using the man's momentum, he tried to put the man off balance but was met with a kick to his legs instead and his world was flipped upside down.
His head cracked against the stone, and his vision flashed. Pain filled his body as his mind blurred, and his thoughts went into a frenzy.
'What happened…' he thought as he tried to look around but found it hard to do so.
He saw two shadows dancing around one.
'Mal…,' his thoughts came together as he remembered Malric was in trouble having to fight both of them now.
He gathered himself and started to get up when a wave of nausea hit him, and he felt his stomach tighten. The vomit tasted bitter when it left his mouth as he rose to his feet.
Malric was holding his own against the two men, even wounding the one that had attacked Tyson.
'I must do something….'
Thinking back to his training, Tyson grabbed the dagger holstered to his left leg and threw it. The dagger flew with precision and accuracy he had trained for months to acquire.
The wounded man reached out and caught the dagger.
'he caught it… midair. Like it was nothing. How? He wasn't even looking at me!'
the wounded man turned and glared at Tyson.
This was the first good look he could get of the man; his skin was a gloomy grey and hugged his cheekbones, he wore a wicked smile that revealed red teeth with a sharpness to them, and his eyes... they were missing.
"What the fu-,"
Before Tyson could finish, the dagger had pierced his shoulder.
Pain shot through him as numbness traveled down his left arm. Shock took over, and he found himself frozen as he watched the two men attack Malric.
'Has Mal always been this good of a fighter?' He thought.
Malric's movements were graceful and precise as he blocked attacks and retaliated when there was an opening. Malric was getting tired, Tyson could tell, but he was stuck. His body would not listen to him.
'Move dammit!' His mind raged.
His legs buckled, and he fell; the pain shot through his arm and into his upper body as he remembered the dagger buried in his shoulder.
He heard something fall, and he slowly turned his head in the direction of the noise.
Malric had been hit and was on the ground trying to get up.
The two hooded figures studied the guards that were struggling to get off the ground.
"We must go. Our task has been completed." The wounded man said.
His voice was low and harsh, with an accent Tyson did not recognize.
The other stranger nodded his head, and the two figures ran off and faded into the darkness that now seemed to consume more of the light than it had just moments before.
He tried to call out, but his voice would not obey his command.
"Tyson, are you okay?" Malric asked, making his way toward him.
He felt a hand rest on him,
"He got you good with the dagger. This is going to hurt."
A sharp pain filled his entire body, and he wanted to scream, but he couldn't.
The pain turned to warmness as his head felt heavy, he focused on Malric, who had a dagger in his hand with blood on it.
His blood.
Darkness crept in, and his mind went dark as he slowly faded into unconsciousness.