The dying sparks of the night flame...

 

The night... So beautiful... Moonless... Darkness will give me escape... No! It attracts, tempts, lures... It flees from me, yet at the same time waits for me... Waiting for the right moment, the right moment, seeking an exit, wanting to break away... A figure from the shadows! Again! It is there, yet at the same time it is not... Chaos... Fear... Darkness... It waits, yet also flees. It measures time and counts the moments... Waiting for my mistake, but I will not make it! No! I'll resist... She's gone... Now she's running, hiding, hiding from me, but she'll come back... When the time is right, she'll come back...

He woke up... It was still night... The city wasn't a good shelter for him. He had to move now... Before the sun rose, before the city awoke... Now it's asleep, resting in the melody of silence... Must go, must go...

He peered out the open stable door. The street was deserted, no one in sight. What irony... He... A nobleman by birth, he has to sleep in the stable, he has to run, hide from people. Who would have thought that the entire city would be hunting him for a crime he didn't commit, for a guilt that didn't rest on him? The thick, rotten boards supporting the roof of the old stable creaked with every slight gust of wind that broke against their flat surface. Every sound, even the slightest, caused a slight pang of fear in him, echoing in his imagination. There was no time. He quickly packed, slung his handbag over his shoulder, and checked once again to make sure no one was nearby. The cobblestone road led down and down... Each footstep echoed loudly, bouncing off the walls... It was dangerous, but he couldn't stay here, he couldn't let them find him... The alley was plunged into impenetrable darkness. Yes, the darkness offers him shelter, but it's treacherous... Truly, it hides less than it seems, but more than we could have expected... Another bend. With each subsequent turn, his heart begins to beat faster, suffocating uncertainty, fear, and anxiety... Maybe he won't be able to live to see tomorrow, maybe at the next intersection, something awaits him...

"Hey!" he heard from behind him. "Yes, you, I'm talking to you!" A gloomy man in a tattered shirt and torn trousers emerged from the dark alley. He was dirty and stank. A purple cloak fluttered across his back, which certainly hadn't belonged to him until recently... A short, rusty sword peeked out from under the cloak, prominently displayed among his other attire.

"Do you know it's dangerous to travel at night? Something very unpleasant could happen to you, unless you have a lot of gold you're willing to share with someone in need..." the bandit continued calmly, slowly approaching the helpless passerby.

-No, I... I just... - he tried to say something in his defense, but the guy was clearly not interested... -Please, I don't want...

"Easy," he interrupted, "if you're polite, and most importantly, quiet, maybe nothing bad will happen to you..." As he spoke, a mocking smile appeared on his face, and his eyes burned with greed...

The man on the road was panicking; he didn't want to go to prison, but death wasn't a bright prospect for him either... He preferred to be captured, just to avoid dying like this... At the hands of some stinking ragamuffin who couldn't even read, let alone write...

"Guards!! Help!! Someone help me!! Help!!!" He began screaming as loudly as he could, but no one came. Seeing that he had no chance against the armed bandit, he fled, running blindly, just to get as far away from there as possible. He kept turning, hoping to finally lose him, but he hit a dead end... For a moment he stood there, hoping the thug wouldn't follow him... Then the figure of his pursuer began to emerge from the shadows.

"Not nice, not nice... And I told you to be quiet... Now, you see, I'll have to kill you." With that, he drew his old, bent sword and swung for a blow. The defenseless man had nowhere to run; he was pinned against the wall, closing his eyes, waiting for the impact... But it didn't come... All he heard was a short whistle and the sound of a thick body hitting the cobblestones. When he opened his eyes, he saw the would-be thief lying on the ground with an arrow in his throat, choking on his own blood...

"Michael..." he heard a quiet, very calm voice. "Did you think I'd let some random scum kill you? Have you forgotten what you did last night?"

Michael, hearing that voice, had no intention of listening to it any longer. He fled, knowing the hopelessness of his situation, knowing he wouldn't make it... The arrow struck him in the shoulder almost simultaneously with the second one, piercing through his knee... He collapsed immediately... But in spasms of pain, he tried to control himself...

"I, I'm innocent!" he tried to choke out, fighting the fear that gripped him, intensified by the rapid flow of blood from his wounds. He felt his life draining from him, seeping slowly, in a thin stream.

"Of course you did... I have no doubt you didn't kill those old snobs, though they deserved it... I'll tell you even more... I'm certain of your innocence, because I'm the one responsible for their deaths. I was the one who sneaked into their residence at night and, in cold blood, dipped my dagger in their "blue" blood... And all the blame rested on you, because why did you even go in there, eh?" A tall man emerged from the darkness of the city streets, dressed in a neat black rogue's outfit, a bow on his back and a long sword in his hand. "You weren't supposed to be there, but since you've already shown up, you could have signed their deaths. Honestly, my current guardian wondered for a long time if we could somehow get you out of this, but in the end he decided there was nothing he could do... Unfortunately, you can't live without revealing the truth about his plot. That would completely ruin his plans." So, do you have anything else to say before I end your noble life?

Michael focused his blurry gaze on the blade hanging above him... The sword was beautifully ornate. The pommel represented a dragon's head, the hilt's shaft extended into its neck and body, and the crossguard represented its wings. The detail with which the shapes engraved on the amphibian was astonishing. The dragon's tail, along with its tail, ended at the edge of the tableware, and from the tableware downward, it merged into a winding vine.

"Who? Who wants to kill me?" he asked, kneeling helplessly, his hands limply lowered, staring at the rogue with unseeing eyes.

The rogue approached him, bent down, and whispered

the name of his employer in his ear. The man's pupils widened even further, and

surprise and disbelief were evident in his eyes...

"Yeah... He said you'd be surprised." You've probably known each other for a long time, because when he said "kill," a single tear leaked from his eye... Just one, the only one... - there was still a hint of amusement in his voice, so inappropriate to the situation...

- Well, now you know everything you were supposed to know, but you won't have time to tell anyone... What a shame, isn't it?

- I... How he... His... Friend... - he muttered...

- Well, it's time... to say goodbye, so... Goodbye... - saying this, he took a light swing, aimed precisely, and struck straight through the heart. Right after the hit, he heard a quiet whisper from the dying man's lips...

- I will return from hell and take revenge on you... - after these words, his head fell limply, rolling along with his body to the ground...

- I will return and take revenge - he kept hearing in his head as he walked away from the dead man...

This night was darker than any other, a blood-red glow hovered on the horizon, heralding dawn as it did every day, and the dead figure on the road terrified me with the hatred radiating from its eyes. But it wasn't over yet... No... It was only the beginning...