Aldernia: Outcast

In continuing with my own fiction, this is the first part of a story I started working on a while ago. At that time I ran my own blog and was experimenting with serialization. As such, this story ends up divided into short segments with epic cliffhangers at the end of each one. Here is the first "episode" of "Outcast," a part of my larger fictional series "Aldernia."

            Mahtek Reyin peered out from the alley where he hid.  The street before him was mostly empty.  A few people, cloaked against the unaccustomed cold, drifted by.  Mahtek kept his hood low to hide his face and ducked into the street.  A couple walked by him, whispering and holding each other close for warmth.  They glanced at him but did not take notice.  He looked like just another hapless resident of usually mild Iandrid, unprepared for the cold winter.  His black cloak sheltered him as well – but he sought shelter from the eyes of those he walked past, not the cold.

            The building he was looking for lay at the end of the street.  Two guards stood watch over the door, and another patrolled the street.  Mahtek knew he couldn’t get past them unnoticed.  But this was Iandrid, his city, and he had been to this building before.  There were other ways in.  He fell in step with a passer-by between him and the guards, then slipped down another alley.

            Once out of site, he removed his cloak and reversed it.  The outside was now a grayish white, almost matching the stone of the buildings.  This cloak had originally been intended to hide him from the eyes of his country’s enemies.  But now it hid him from his fellow citizens just as well.  Former fellow citizens, he reflected. He extended his claws and found cracks in the stone, then began to climb, his target a certain window, above him.

As he crawled upward, the patrolling guard passed the mouth of the alley.  Mahtek froze.  Anyone closely inspecting the side of the building would have noticed him, but at a quick glance, his cloak blended in sufficiently not to warrant a second thought.

            Mahtek began his climb again.  Reaching the window, he peered inside carefully.  As he had expected, a lone guard sat in the room.  He did not appear very attentive, but he had a clear view of the window.  A small fire burned on the far side of the room.  Mahtek ducked below the window and hung there, still, considering his options.  His mission was imperative, and this was his best entrance.

He decided on a course of action.  He peered through the opening once again.  Gathering his focus, he stared intently at the guard.  He hadn’t done this in a long time.  The guard felt a slight chill, which began to grow worse.  His breath condensed in the air before him.  He shivered from the sudden discomfort, and, thinking it was simply a bad draft, pulled his chair closer to the fire, turned away from the window.  Mahtek shook his head at the guard’s lack of discipline, but allowed himself a little satisfaction at the success of his own meager power.  He slipped into the room unnoticed, landing quietly.