Reflection
A short origin story for a DnD character of mine, Scathan Steelsong & Jin.
The night is quiet. Silvery moonlight, slightly shrouded by the clouds, dimly lits the streets of the North Ward of Waterdeep. Everything is still in the deathly silence of the night, barring the occasional candlelight coming from the mansions and villas along the road.
The guard yawns. In quiet nights like these, he would rather be at home with his family or drinking with his mates at the bar. But alas, duty calls, and the nobles around here pay rather well for an extra pair of eyes to keep their properties safe from the hungry peasants down south.
“You know,” he tries to strike a conversation with his campanion as they patrol down the empty street, “In nights like these, I’d rather…”
“Stay at home or waste ye’self at the bar, yeah, yeah. Half of the Neverwinter guards know ye hatred for night shifts by now. Stuff it back ye arse will ye?”
He sighs, just as the corner of his eye catch a glimpse of a cloaked shadow, slipping into a neighboring alleyway.
“Hey, you!” The guard shouts, almost raising his voice by too much that he may wake some light sleepers from their easily disturbed slumber. The figure stops in their track, slowly turning around, facing them across the street, with their hands in the air.
“Now what is it that makes a mysterious fellow like you to wander the streets this late at night, with a cloak on no less?” He holds his spear in one hand and approaches the figure with his colleague, mustering as much authority as he can in his hushed voice.
The figure lets out a nervous chuckle. “Sir, just on my way home, nothing more than that, I promise.”
“On your way home? To your home or to someone elses? Hey, go take off his hood.” He signals the other guard, “If you can’t explain yourself better than that, you’re coming with us, and I’ll have you know…”
The hood drops, revealing a young blonde man, with jade green eyes, reflecting the silvery moonlight. He waves his hand slightly in the air, and puts on an awkward yet beguiling smile. “Yeah, uh…”
The guard look him up and down, and taps his forehead. “Hey, ain’t you… that Threxia Junior? Which would explain what you’re doing out here…”
“Please don’t mention this to anyone, will you, good sir?” The man pleads.
He sighs. “Ugh… you bastard. Get your arse back to your mansion and stop stalking around like a wild dog! Don’t let me see you this late at night again!”
They wave off the man, as he quickly slips into the alleyway, and disappears into the night. “That blasted spoiled womanizing kid. Knows nothing better than finding girls to play with. Hey, wasn’t him on ground for sneaking into the Duke’s mansion to see his daughter?”
“Ha, how dumb are ye, those are just for show to the duke and the peasants. Probably explains why the lad’s actin’ all suspicious and such.”
“Yeah.”
The shadow nimbly vaults over the fence and slips into the bushes. “Whew, too close.” He thinks to himself, as his stomach untimely rumbles. “Well, sorry for the Threxia kid, but he’s still got a well-off future ahead of him. If I don’t give this a shot, I soon won’t have a future.”
Enough retrospecting for now, to the matter at hand. He glances through the branches and leaves, and observes the two-story mansion he interloped on. “Renowned scholar, respected noble, lecturer at the college. After hundreds of years of nobility, the Steelsongs won’t miss a couple dozen gold pieces, I’m sure.”
He stalks towards a window on the side, takes out a bundle of needles and wire pieces, and slowly picks the lock, lacking experience, but making up in finesse. He pauses for a moment.
“C’mon, Jin. You can do this. Just grab a couple of baubles and bail out. Another couple of tendays of rations secured. The old man won’t mind.” He whispers to himself. And hops into the window.
The foyer is dark and unlit, which, as he notes, doesn’t bother the Steelsongs as much as it unconveniences him. Lighting a match and covering it as much as he can with his hands, letting just enough firelight through to allow him to navigate the room, Jin observes the surrounding for lesser objects to scavenge. The vases lining the room would be too big a target to carry around, and given how badly they go together with the ornate rug, would be immediately noticed by the family. The candelabras are small enough to conceal, but losing them would be awfully inconvenient for victims.
He moves his sight towards the cupboard. The plates and pots… decorative, repetitive, and can fetch a good price, perfect target for a benign thievery. Silently he approaches, putting on a pair of cloth gloves, and reaches out towards the handle.
Just as the sound of chair legs dragging across the wooden floor can be heard behind a door opposite of him. Jin freezes. Is someone awake? This late into the night?
He frantically questions his supposedly perfect plan. Then it became clear to him. The Steelsongs’ library is located on the ground floor, where the old scholar often invites his students and colleages into for discussions and debates. Staying up all night reading and writing must not be uncommon for someone of his sophistication, yes, that must be it.
Overwhelmed with such a belated realization, Jin was snapped back by the footsteps towards the door to the foyer. He snaps the match between his fingers, adrenaline numbing out the burning pain, and squeezes himself inbetween the two cupboards, where even the few slivers of moonlight shining through the curtains cannot reach.
Yet even in this shroud of shadows he feels exposed like a naked newborn. The darkness does not bother the Steelsongs as much as it bothers him.
The door creaks open, and the old scholar walks out. He raises his candle, and glances towards the shadow as he closes the door behind him. “Maeve? This late at night, what are you…”
A string snaps. Jin’s vision blurs, as his beautiful, beguiling jade green eyes became filled with a pale silver, just like moonlight. There is a flash of light, and all went quiet again, save for the dull and muffled sound of something hitting the floor.
“Scathan! My dear? Are you all right? What is that…”
“I’m fine, darli… I’m fine. Just… It’s a slip, I should be all right.” The old scholar rises slowly, with his hand grabbing the chair for support. He stands, slightly humped forward, rubbing his other hand against his head. “It’s just a slip.”
“Are you certain? You look in pain. Should I inform the alchemist? Herbalist? That friend of yours you debated the potency of healing magic with? Isn’t he an expert in that field? Or should I…”
“I’m fine… I’m okay. Don’t worry about it, I just need to finish this parchment… I’ll be going to rest soon.”
“Be more careful! You’re not the young elfling you used to be. You should get more rest, especially now that age has caught up to you. A few tenyears ago this would have been fine, but now you’re just worrying me and the children… I know you take pride in your craft… but… just take more care of yourself, okay?”
“Sure… I apologize. Sorry.” Scathan falls back onto his chair, and lets out as much of a smile as he can. “I’ll be finished within a minute.”
She sighs. “Sure, dear… It’s a relief that you’re alright. Do you need me to close the door, as always?”
“Please do, thank you.”
The door closes, footsteps ascend the stairs, and all is quite yet again. The calm, collected facade of Scathan fades, along with his form, as a young malnourished girl slides to sit on the ground with her body curled together, sobbing quietly. Her hair and skin is pale, and her eyes filled with colorless color, like a mirror bathed in moonlight.
She looks towards behind the bookshelves, where lies the lifeless body of the aged high-elf scholar. Reaching out a hand, she hopelessly searches for even the slightest sign of life in him, to no avail.
“A reflex, I - I didn’t mean to…”
Dec 25th, 2021. West Lafayette, Indiana.
