Glinting Starlight

She walked through the decimated cobblestone streets of Verdici and entered the contracted house. She made quick work of assassinating the young lady, blood falling like hail on the photographs nearby. Cressida put her blade away and walked through the house trying to see if there was anything of note to take. In the kitchen she found a jar of honey, a rare commodity in the state of the world. She heated some water and put a dollop in swirling it around like a cup of sunshine. She sat for a moment and sipped the sweet drink, letting it linger on her lips before writing her latest kill into her leather black notebook. She didn’t like to kill, she had been forced to as the head of her clan. Her parents had lived that way and so she was forced as well. She said a quick prayer for the girl and slinked out the back door vanishing into the night.

She reached the graveyard, pushed back the stone that read “Draneas” and joined the rest of her clan in their underground home. Cressida followed the illuminated hallway into the main living room where she was greeted by Rodrick, her right hand and best friend.

“Don’t be too sad, Cress. You know you have to do it to keep the clan going. It’s what your parents would have wanted.” Rodrick said, with the light of the flame dancing across his face.

“It may have been what they wanted, but I want more.” She replied with a snarl.

“Well you may have the opportunity, Sir Draven gave me a message while I was in the pub, he wants to meet you. I’ll make note of it in your book. You should get some rest.”

Cressida walked to her chambers and undressed, uncovering the scars reflecting who she really was and who she hated. She drank the spiced wine until sleep washed over her and with it the agonizing dreams of her childhood.

It was sunset as Cressida crossed Indigo Lane and headed over to The Bashful Whale Inn. An earthy pipe smoke filled her nostrils as she made her way to the counter to inquire about the man who had asked to see her. The busty bar maid pointed her in the direction of a private room. She knocked and a woman’s voice told her to come in. Sir Draven and a woman were at a table near the fire playing cards. They looked at Cressida and then at each other and smirked.

“My mistress and I would like to thank you for taking care of that young lady” Sir Draven said.

Cressida was confused. The man walked over to a large oak chest and opened it. There must have been thousands of gold coins in it.

“I’m sure you know me” the man said. “I am the owner of at least half the inns in this town and that young lady your clan took care of was impeding business. Please let me have these delivered to you wherever you need. There are 20,000 in total. Feel free to count, but daylight is dwindling.”

“Why should I trust you?” she asked concerningly. “Is there a catch? Someone else you want me to take out?”

“Not for now, my dear. Consider this a sign of my respect for your clan. I’ll load the money onto your man’s cart next time I see Rodrick in the pub.

Cressida started to speak, but was interrupted by another knock at the door. Draven waived her out impatiently, as if he owned her now. On her way out the door he said “Oh and give my regards to your mother” in a sticky sweet voice. He knew. Somehow that cruel smile knew that her mother was dead. Knowledge that no one, except for her clan members should know. She needed to know who this man was. She headed back to her headquarters to consult the elder.

Her cane came tapping down the dreary hallway into the meeting room and she sat across from Cressida. Cordelia Druthers was the oldest surviving relative from the Maddox clan. She gripped Cressida’s hand and smiled at her. She had all the history and knowledge of various clans.

“You’re tense, my child. As you should be. There are more contenders in the game than there used to be and you are the youngest leader there has ever been.”

“Can Sir Draven be trusted? He offered a large sum of money for someone I’ve already killed” Cressida asked.

“ The Dravens were also an assassin clan long ago, but through a stroke of luck they became real estate moguls rather than assassins. The current leader used to be infatuated with your mother. The clan needs money to survive, my child. Sometimes, you have to take a risk. If trouble comes along after, we will deal with it then.”

After a brief history on the Draven family Cressida kissed the old woman’s wrinkled hand and thanked her for her advice then weaved her ways through the twisting halls back to her quarters. There was a letter on her bedside table in excellent hand. She opened it and it said:

“Come to the Gilded Rose Laboratory, across the marsh and past the crooked tree. My father and I are alchemists, we can make the gold you came into last you and the Maddox clan a lifetime. You wouldn’t have to kill anymore”

Pondering – the slow indecisive, yet thoughtful silence that can drive a person mad or drive them to glory. Days passed and Cressida Maddox was determined on glory.

Satchel and black book in hand she ran through the clan halls to the coach station and attached the horses to the cart. She left through the underground tunnel, one of the only ways out of the City of Verdici. She road across the wastelands of the Atochan war. She paid the leper man to have him ferry her across the marshlands. She then journeyed through a huge meadow where she came across an ancient, crooked tree. Behind it was a vast forest with a tower in the middle.

She travelled on for what seemed like miles to the front of the castle door. It opened instantly and she was greeted by a small old man in ragged brown robes. He guided her through a hallway with a glass top. In fact, the entire place had a glass top except for the tower. The man led her to a greenhouse of sorts filled with roses and lab equipment. He took a seat in a leather chair and signaled for her sit across from him.

“Who are you and what is this place?” Cressida asked the man.

“My name is Augustus and this is my laboratory. I’m an alchemist and I help people such as yourself achieve whatever they need or desire. You brought plenty of gold.”

“How do you know what I desire?”

“ I know your family, everyone on the dark side of the law knows your family. I know your parents put an immense amount of pressure on you, I know they died early leaving you the family business, and I know you don’t like killing people, but you have to. You have a clan of 300 who you need to take care of. You killed someone important, you now need to invest the money. I suggest you invest it in yourself. I can make you invincible.”

“How?” Cressida was scared, albeit intrigued.

“Simple, I’m an alchemist, I take half this gold and change it into an elixir. I will then ask if you’d like a cup of tea which will make you live a very long life as well as wealth of knowledge. I get 5,000 gold coins in exchange, which will leave you with 5,000.”

After much deliberation between the parties Cressida simply said, “Do It”.

The alchemist started running around melting gold, adding essences and oils to the mixture. He then poured Cressida a cup of crimson gold tea. She chugged it down. The last Maddox clan leader thought about her parents, how they made her kill someone when she was only ten years old, how they told her she would be a failure if she didn’t look after the clan. They would hold her head under water if she did something wrong and burned off her fingerprints when she was first born so no one could trace her prints. She craved affection, she was the most important thing to her mother in terms of ambition. A single tear came down rolled down her cheek turning to gold as it went. She couldn’t move and from the corner of her eye she saw a woman come down the staircase and place a hand on her shoulder. A hand with a gold band and onyx signet depicting a raven. The Chamblee clan.

Cressida’ memories whirled of stealing meat pies and chasing dogs through alleys. She wanted to cry, call out for the woman before her and embrace her, but it was too late

“Do you understand now dear.” A woman’s sweet but malevolent voice rang through Cressida’s golden ears. “Don’t worry. You won’t die. You’ll be in a permanent state of comatose. The alchemist didn’t lie, you’ll have all the knowledge of the world running through your beautiful golden brain, so you won’t be bored. I doubt you remember me. You know my signet, you know who I am. You probably thought I was dead. My sweet shadow sister, I’ve sought revenge on you my whole life. Your parents slaughtered the majority of the Chamblee clan. Unfortunately for them, my mother escaped with me she barely made it to the laboratory before dying. The alchemist was kind enough to raise me. I hoped you would find me, for years I was naïve enough to believe you knew nothing, but I matured. I had you kill someone impeding on Draven’s business, then tipped him off on who to thank. That girl meant nothing, just the scapegoat, I was the one ruining his business. I can’t bring myself to kill you, I loved you. I would monologue more, but I have things to do and clans to steal back. Sweet dreams.”

Cressida was wheeled out into a ballroom, lined with golden statues, the trophies of the Chamblee clan. She was positioned to be looking out the glass ceiling at the constellations. Sylvie Chamblee started a waltz with the alchemist in the glinting starlight of her statues, her revenge complete and her empire just beginning.