Echoes Of The Silent Weaver

On Earth, where the sun dipped into the horizon and painted the sky with hues of crimson and gold, the shadows came alive. It was a world where assassins, spies, and thieves ruled the night, and the organizations that controlled them were the true powers behind the throne.

The Shadow Weaver organization was one such group, feared and respected throughout the land. Their members were trained in the art of stealth, deception, and assassination. They were the masters of the shadows, able to blend into the darkness and strike without warning.

At the helm of the Shadow Weavers was the enigmatic figure known only as the Archon. Little was known about the Archon, except that they were a master strategist and a ruthless leader. The Archon's true identity was a mystery, and many believed that they were not human at all, but a creature of the shadows.

The Shadow Weavers were not the only organization operating in the shadows. There were others, each with their own agenda and motivations.

The Order of the Golden Dawn was a group of skilled warriors and mages, sworn to protect the innocent and vanquish evil. They were the antithesis of the Shadow Weavers, and the two organizations had been locked in a secret war for centuries.

The Red Vipers were a group of thieves and smugglers, operating on the fringes of society. They were known for their cunning and ruthlessness, and were feared by merchants and nobles alike.

The Nightwalkers were a mysterious group of assassins and spies, rumored to be led by a powerful sorceress. They were known for their ability to infiltrate even the most secure locations, and were feared by kings and queens throughout the land.

In this world of shadows and deception, the organizations were constantly vying for power and influence. Alliances were forged and broken, and the balance of power shifted like the sands of the desert.

---

Sage arrived at an old Inn. It was very late at night but there were still some people going in and out of it.

He simply walked in, carrying a thick black sack which looked heavy at mere glance.

An old lady was sitting behind the counter, counting money. He walked up to her and ordered something for himself.

"The usual," he said in a low tone.

Seeing him, the lady nodded and went into the kitchen. A minute later, she came out carrying a tray with a covered plate and a glass of water on it.

"Here you go," she said in her old voice and handed the tray to him.

Sage collected it and walked over to a table. Some people glanced at him, seeming curious about the bag on his left hand and why he was careful about it. Some thought it was money.

Ignoring the eyes feasting on his bag, Sage downed the food and water, and after that, he stood up and returned to the counter.

"I'm going up," he said to the old lady after dropping a bronze coin on the counter. Without waiting for her to reply, he picked the bag and headed for the stairs. Soon, he got to a particular door and went in, locking the door behind him.

The room consisted of only a bed, a table, a table lamp, a shelf containing all kinds of books, and a small clothe-bag. He walked to the wooden window there and stretched his right arm, a silver ring on his tiny finger glowed and the wooden window creaked, and a section of the wall slid open, revealing a narrow passageway. The air that wafted out was stale and musty, filled with the scent of age and secrecy.

Sage's eyes gleamed with a knowing light as he stepped into the passageway, the secret path unfolding before him like a dark, winding snake. He walked confidently, his footsteps echoing off the cold stone walls.

As he walked, the air grew colder, the darkness seeming to press in around him like a living, breathing entity. But Sage was not afraid. He was not knew.

The passageway finally opened up into a large, dimly lit chamber, the ceiling lost in darkness. The room was filled with rows of wooden crates and barrels, each one stamped with the symbol of the Shadow Weavers.

Sage's eyes scanned the room, his gaze lingering on the figure sitting behind the counter; it was an old woman with white hair.

He walked towards her, ignoring the others hiding in the shadows. He was aware of their presence but pretended like he wasn't, his presence didn't command much attention, as such, no one paid serious attention to him.

And he liked it just fine.

He got to the counter, the old woman seemed to be sleeping. Her white hair spoke so much about her age, and the knowledge of her age spoke so much about her service to the organization.

"It is here," he said, his voice barely above a whispers.

"Let me see," the old woman said in a cranky voice. She may sound old and may look ugly but she mattered a lot to the organization more than some of its members. She was highly respected by everyone.

Sage dropped the bag on the table and the old woman went ahead to open it. She loosening the knot and peeped inside, a female head was inside it with black clotted blood surrounding it.

"The mission has been completed!" She announced and the figures hiding in the shadows began to move.

"What did you say?"

"The female beast mission has been completed," the old woman replied and bent down. Soon, she raised herself and dropped some items on the counter; a small pouch containing gold coins, a small bottle of elixir, and a small envelope.

The shadows gazed at the items and scoffed. These were rewards for a job well done — A no ordinary reward for a risky job like the one just completed.

"I guess Anita did her work well," one said. He had two pairs of large eyes, a flat nose and pointed ears. He went close to Sage, thinking it was Anita but the moment he met Sage's crimson eyes, he backed away immediately.

"Wh-what?" He mumbled, surprised.

"That is not Anita," someone else said. It was a lady dressed in black robes with a hood over her head.

There was a hint of surprise in her voice but unlike the man with the flat nose, she concealed the surprise with a burst of laughter.

"I can not believe you could do that," she said and attempted to touch Sage.

The latter moved and caught her hand. Unknown to her, he had activated his wither palm technique and her energy began to seep away slowly.

She realized quickly and pulled her hand away, gasping a bit.

"You—"

"Don't touch me with your filthy hand," Sage said to her. He took the pouch, hid it inside his robes and then took the small brown envelope. Just as he was about to grab the elixir, the lady snatched it away.

"Where is Anita? Why is it you who completed the mission and not her?" She asked Sage.

Sage looked calm on the surface but inwardly, each question made his blood boil in anger. To take down the woman, he had planned for weeks, and to carry out the mission, he had had sleepless nights. Now that the mission has been completed, he didn't want anything other than to lie down and sleep but his time was being wasted by someone he barely knew.

"Who are you?" He asked her. "Get out of the way!"

"And what if I don't?" She asked him, unfazed.

The fact that she remained unafraid made him more angry but he didn't want to waste more of his time with her. So he took a step, one that carried a soundless move. He grabbed her by the hair and swung her to the left.

Whether she fell or died, that did not concern him as he walked away from them.

"You killed Anita, you will surely pay for it!" The lady as she got up from tbe ground, yelled.

Sage upon hearing her, halted. He turned and glanced at her with his crimson icy eyes. He could not deny the fact that she might be saying the truth — He would pay for his actions.

But the question now is...

'Does he really care?'.