A Change of Heart

The sun was just rising in the distance, painting the small encampment along the shore with vibrant colors. The ocean beyond the beach was obscured by a fog bank that had rolled in over the night, and in the stillness and quiet peace of the morning one could almost believe that the world ended at the edge of those misty white clouds.

As with all things, the peace came to an end rather abruptly as a heavily armed warship sailed into view, seeming to materialize out of nothingness as the obscuring mists parted before it. The pirates in the camp began to shout as their sentries called out the alarm, but their efforts were of little use as the warship turned, presenting its broadside to the land-bound pirates. Cannons flared as screaming explosives were hurled from them, and soon the encampment was under full barrage from the ship. The pirates scrambled to man their own guns, but systematically they were destroyed, one after another. Within a few minutes, the pirates on land had little artillery with which to offer resistance, and landing boats began to dot the surface of the water, bobbing up and down as they approached the camp steadily. Above the ship, a large banner was raised, the symbol of House Dawnblade flapping in the morning breeze from the tallest mast of the Shattered Blade.

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A pair of Fel green eyes blinked in annoyance as their owner observed the fierce hand to hand combat break out in the pirate camp below. House Dawnblade's new captain, Celessarae Sunblade, had made a royal mess of things by assaulting the camp now. The information that the owner of the eyes needed would be lost, and her mission would be a failure.

Tylirel Sunstrike resisted the urge to sigh in frustration. Dressed in a form fitting mottled green and brown bodysuit, she lay entwined with a large branch high in the boughs of a tree overlooking the camp. She'd been there for hours, her mind studying the patrols set by the pirates and evaluating the best way to assault the camp herself. Her target, a magistrix of some power deep within the camp, was most likely embroiled in the conflict with House Dawnblade's warship. Tylirel doubted the Sin'dorei would survive, and even if she did she'd likely be hauled off along with the illicit weapon crates in the camp below. It would be a major victory for House Dawnblade, and the weapons confiscated would inflict harm on several other minor Houses that were making an effort to ally against some of the more powerful noble families.

Despite the fact that Tylirel's mission was obviously spoiled, she made no move to climb down from the tree or even to uncover her golden blond hair. Hidden in a deep green hooded cloak, with a green mask over her face, it would have been impossible for even the most careful of observer to see her there, and her magical charms kept the magistrix in the camp below from detecting her presence. There was little need to relocate, and she needed to think about what to do next. With her mission a failure, something in the back of her mind worried at her and it took several minutes of thought to realize what it was.

She was tired of this.

The thought was startling, considering her line of work. She looked at her arm, which lay across the branch in front of her, and at the dagger strapped to her wrist. How many lives had it taken? How many times had she stalked prey, just as she was doing now? How many of those lives were Sin'dorei? Did any of those efforts make a difference, as Lady Dayfire thought they would? Was the world a better place now?

No.

She looked back down to the encampment below, where House Dawnblade's forces were mopping up the rest of the pirates. The very soldiers on the ship were no better than those they had just defeated, and yet they were blessed with the charter of House Dawnblade, giving them the right to slaughter other Sin'dorei who 'crossed the line' as it were. Just as Lady Dayfire did. Just as Miss Chalce did, even if she wouldn't admit it to herself. It was time for things to change.

Tylirel's eyes widened as she realized what had been missing, the piece of the puzzle that was bothering her. The noble Houses didn't understand the needs of the Sin'dorei. They didn't see that their bickering and infighting was only serving to thin the already devastated population, and crush the remaining commoners beneath the weight of their constant warfare. Tylirel's own actions had aided this system for years now, decades even. And all the while, the Alliance could take advantage, could plunder the Sin'dorei lands unopposed as the divided Houses watched their backs against one another.

What if there is another way?

Another way indeed. A way to keep the Houses going down a path that would lead to peace. A way to keep them focused on goals that would truly help the Sin'dorei, rather than just their own treasuries. A way that Tylirel could teach them, given the right manipulation and pressure. As the idea blossomed in her mind, Tylirel's face took on a fierce grin beneath the mask. In all her many years, she had never worked for herself, had never attempted to bring her own dreams to life provided she was seeing action and getting paid well. Perhaps it was time to dream. Perhaps it was time to change the world.

With barely a whisper of sound, the deadly assassin slipped from the tree, her movement invisible to the camp below. A heartbeat later she was gone, no sign of her passing left to discover.