Sneakthief

The new moon made the city pitch black that night. Datta had waited until tonight to go out for that very reason. The only lights that carried were from the street lamps and the guards, but she wouldn’t be heading onto any main thoroughfares and she knew the guard rotation in this area like the back of her hand by now. The inn she and her mother had managed to stay in that night was too close to her target for her to not go. 

The girl snuck out in the wee hours of the morning after she heard the innkeep lock the front door for the night. Her mother was sound asleep, exhausted after a long day of entertaining to earn their keep. Datta always made sure to shut the door silently when she went on her ventures, barefoot, dressed in the darkest clothes she could find with a satchel slung over her shoulder.

She twisted the bolt on the back door to the inn and crept outside, shutting it slowly behind her. No one in sight, as she predicted. She stuck to the very edges of the buildings as she scampered down the block and into the maze of alleyways of Lustanvale’s poorer district. None of the guards dared to come there anymore. Too much work. Plus, no one here would bat an eye at a raggedy-looking twelve year old scampering around.

Through the low-end shopping district and into the residential quarter she scuttled, taking shortcuts and backways that would lead to the rear section of the chateau that crowned the city-state. This was the richest part of the city, where the walled manors of the city-state’s elite towered over everything else around. 

Datta climbed the ivy up and over the stone wall of the estate and landed in soft, manicured grass. She scurried between the perfectly trimmed rose bushes and shaped trees until she got to a servant access door. She produced a lockpick and a bobby pin from her satchel and went to work on the lock, fiddling it just right to click it open like she had done a dozen times before. It creaked open, and Datta tiptoed through the corridors that followed, avoiding the even-more-creaky board where she could. She knew the quickest way to the kitchens was through the servant halls. Plus, if for whatever reason one of them caught her, they’d likely be more forgiving than the family… so long as the same people were still working here.

When she got to the kitchens she went right to work. She swiped molasses bread, elven tea biscuits, a bottle of fresh-squeezed pomegranate juice, spiced dried ham, and a host of other luxury foods, carefully wrapping them all in rags and putting them in her satchel. Just before she left she spotted a jar of meringues on the top shelf next to the door. She weighed the risk briefly; one more thing couldn’t hurt, right?. Besides, it was really easy to blame any of the court’s children for stealing candy late at night. Small hands made for small disparities in the stock. Her next destination was upstairs.

This was always the most difficult part. Dealing with elves means people aren’t actually asleep, only tranced. It’s easier to wake them with things as small as a step right outside the door, should their hearing be keen enough. She’d had a few close calls like that before. She’s learned to, contradictingly enough, walk in the dead center of the hallway so her steps are the furthest away from the doors on either side. The running rugs down the hall of bedrooms helped too. She was able to make it down without a hitch this time, turning the corner to head to the tower room. 

Datta fished a piece of paper out of her bag and slid it under a familiar ornate door. This room was set further back than the rest, residing in the eastmost tower. The pitter-patter of tiny footsteps could be heard from the other side, and then the lock unlatched. An elven girl in a satin nightgown was on the other side. Her excited blue eyes were lit up by a candlestick and fixed on Datta as she entered.

“Hey Selya,” Datta smiled at the girl. They were the same age, roughly, with Datta being a few months older, but Selya’s childish elven features made her look even younger. “I got some pretty good stuff this time.” She opened her satchel and produced the rag that had the meringues wrapped up inside. She could see Selya quell the instinct to clap and instead took Datta’s hand to whisk her into the room.

The two flopped onto the large canopied bed. “Ooohhh Datta, how’d you reach these?” She whispered, selecting a rose-scented swirl and sticking it in her mouth with glee.
 
“Chair,” she replied deftly, smirking. Selya giggled.
 
“You’re just so sneaky, heehee. You have a good eye too.” The compliment made Datta beam.
 
“Sooo… are you excited to start your wizard stuff?” Datta asked, selecting a lemon-flavored meringue for herself. Elvish sweets really were top notch, she had almost forgotten how good they were.

“Yes,” Selya whispered, but her excitement was evident. “Right now, I’m between Abjuration and Divination, but Nillian says I should go into Conjuration, and Arthyn says Evocation is the most useful one...so, I’m not sure.”

“Sounds stressful, I guess,” Datta said, already picking another meringue. There was a silence between them for a while. The divide between the two had only been growing as time went on between visits. Both could feel it. Awkward pauses and lapses in conversation, a little more hesitance from both parties now that their fates looked to part them, but Datta kept sneaking into the chateau to see Selya like she had done for years before. She wanted to believe she and Selya could still be friends.

“I’m going to miss you visiting me,” Selya piped up. Datta looked away, her face twisting into a frown. “They’re doing this on purpose, you know. Sending you away. They must be.”

“How could they be? They don’t even know we still see each other,” the elf protested weakly. “Mother and father just want the best for me. Arklight Academy’ is the best wizarding school out there, and founded by elves no less. Their summer tutorship sounds really cool, I get to learn all the beginnings of magic!”

“What about all the music and dances my mom taught you? Don’t you want to be a bard?” Datta’s voice was a little cutting, perhaps more than she intended. She could see it made Selya tense.

“I mean, kind of, yeah, but...this will be better for me, I think.” Selya’s milder nature was getting the better of her.

“That’s what they think,” Datta hissed. “You should do what you want to do, not what they think you should do. That stupid school isn’t what you want. You would make a great bard.”

“Datta, c’mon, don’t be like that. You’re my sister, I-”
“Half-sister.” Datta interrupted coldly.

“You know that never mattered to me,” Selya whispered insistently, looking to Datta for some compromise. She wasn’t about to get any.

“If I really mattered to you then you would have done more to go against his stupid rules!” Datta risked shouting.

“What? You think it’s easy to just go up to Lord Father and say ‘eff you’? Well it isn’t like that for me! Or any of us, for that matter.” There was a certain helplessness to her hushed tone.

“Yes! That’s literally all you have to do!” Datta retorted. She couldn’t see how the girl could be so hung up. She herself had done it perfectly well after she was old enough to understand why their father so unceremoniously evicted her and her mother from court. 

Datta’s blue eyes and small, pointed ears had been noticeably conspicuous, even at the age of eight. A bastard through and through. The suspicion of infidelity on Lord Virion’s part was not something he would tolerate. After an act like that against the court’s favorite bard, who had spent so long in their service, and her innocent kid daughter, Datta would think her half-siblings would be on her side. She had lost Nillian and Arthyn to that battle long ago, but now Selya?

“You don’t get it, Datta. You’ll never get it. You never had standards and a reputation to live up to. It’s different for me, I thought you’d get that. I want this, being a wizard is doing my duty to-”

“Fuck your duty!” Datta interrupted again, slamming her hand into the bed and sending the remaining meringues flying. “They’re forcing you to leave and do something you don’t truly want to do, and you’re just going to let them? You can’t possibly be okay with that!”

Selya said nothing. She looked utterly shocked, like Datta had just committed a cardinal sin. Then Datta noticed the tears in her half-sister’s eyes. The way her ears were pinned back in astonishment. “Selya, I…” she started, but the elf was already getting up off the bed and storming towards the door. There was a long silence between them. A horrible silence. Datta’s gut twisted as she looked for some weakness, for something to compromise, but Selya had had enough. The rift that had been growing between the two was now permanent. Selya had chosen her side, and as far as she was concerned, Datta was all alone on hers.

Datta slid off the bed and walked towards the door. She stopped just before Selya opened it.

“I was worried you wouldn’t understand. Guess I was right,” Selya said through the tears. The words cut through Datta worse than any blade ever could. 

Silently, Selya shut the door behind Datta. She followed the same path she came, but now she was more concerned with the urge of thrashing and crying out in her anger than any noise her footsteps might make. 

She skipped the servant’s staircase and stopped at the last door in the hall. She stood in front of a grand set of double doors: the Lord’s suite. She stood there in her rage, staring at the door as if her ire would burn a hole through it and she could get at what was on the other side. She thought of all the things she’d say to her father, all of the insults she’d sling, the knives she’d love to dig into him right now for taking her siblings — no, her life — away from her. A life of lavishness and family. A life of comfort and joy, of noble duty and wealth of opportunity. A life without struggle, had it not been for his and his family’s precious reputation.

She hadn’t realized she had brandished her dagger. She looked down at it, tears falling from her face to its sharpened edge. A part of her hated herself for wanting to inflict that much harm on another being, but a part of her really, really wanted to. She tried to think of Selya, a young girl who would still need her family whole for at least another century. Datta didn’t want her to become what she had. Someone so young, but so bitter. Someone capable of so much hatred. Selya already hated Datta right now, she didn’t want things to be even more irreparably damaged because of her.

Datta managed to hold back the tears until she got outside of the chateau. She couldn’t stop herself from letting out a few whimpers as she ran back through those trimmed rose bushes and manicured grass, climbing the ivy back over the walls. 

As she was about to round a corner back to the lower district, someone grabbed her shoulder. She reacted instantly, pulling the dagger from underneath her tunic again and with an anguished cry, turning around and thrusting it at the offender, aiming for the gut. The figure snatched her wrist in a black gloved hand instantly, as if they knew she would do exactly that. It was then she realized who it was.

“What are you doing out here, girl.” The sentence was a statement, not a question. His voice was smooth, but intimidating and commanding. Datta glared up at him. His crimson eyes glared right back from under his hood.

“Wh- how did you know I was here?” she spat back, wresting her arm away. She wasn’t very intimidating with her shaking voice.

“You still aren’t as good at this as you think you are. Does your mother still not know?”
“No, and now she never will,” Datta replied. “I don’t have time for this, Phen. You can yell at me or whatever later, just step off.” She was trying very hard and failing to hold back more tears.

“I always told you, doing this wouldn't give you what you wanted,” Phen said. He looked down at her trembling hand still holding the dagger. “The fact there isn’t blood on that blade is encouraging, at least.”

Datta was silent. She just sheathed the dagger and pushed past him to run off into the dark streets, tears streaming down her face. No matter how much it broke her heart, no matter how selfish a vengeance she felt she had a right to enact, she would never be climbing those walls again. Both for her own good and her sister’s.