I slink through the alleyway, trying to blend in with the shadows.

The small nook is crowded and has a lingering smell of urine and cigarette smoke. Yes, it’s disgusting, but it’s secluded.

I take my hood off and walk towards the town square of Amethyst Hall. The fountain is cracked and mossy, and the water is dirty, long infected with bacteria and diseases. I take a seat on the shattered marble and utter the password:

“Leeches.”

The fountain sinks and takes me with it. I look up at the sky as the sunlight disappears.

The air is groggier and smellier when I land. No one speaks, but we all wear the same cloak. Black and shrowded. The perfect outfit when you have something to hide.

Juan’s Blades is where I need to be. I look down and push the dark brown door open.

The bell jingles, the only speck of hope in this dreary place, welcoming me into any empty shop.

Juan stands behind the counter, scars lining his face as he wipes down the counter.

“Ah, hello, Nickolas.” He says. He reaches under the counter and pulls out my order. “Here’s the knife you requested.”

I take it carefully. The blade itself is smooth, and the handle is gold and spiraled. It fits perfectly in my hand. I swish it around in the air a few times. Tossing it up in the air, it falls and slices my hand.

I let the blood drip down and coat my arms. Another would use a protection spell, mitigate the pain.

I choose not to.

“Thanks, Juan.” I reply as I pull the knife out of the ground. “Has a nice clean cut.”

I pull up the sleeves on my cloak. I hover the knife over my wrists, which already have plenty of scars. Not that I care.

That’s when I hear voices behind me.

“Royal police! We have you surrounded.”