Shadow Knight Saga: The Shadowlands

Chapter Five

Shayne didn't know where to go to find the thief lingering in the shadows, but she knew that she had more than one shadow to worry about tonight. Zeke is searching for her. She knew he would but she also knows that he can't stop her from doing what she's about to do. Her only fear is that the thieving shadow mistakes Zeke for her and attacks him. Zeke is a very capable Knight, even though he isn't like Shayne nor does he share her outlook and approach of patrolling; Zeke is more of a people person and interacts with those in the Shadowlands, and his ear for gossip helps to keep them in the loop with the doings of those they are commissioned to chaperon.

Zeke knows his sister better than anyone, and he knew exactly where she'd go, so she's been hiding in the shadows, watching him look around at everything, even spin in circles a few times singing at the top of his lungs, getting the attention of everyone lingering around the Bethesda Terrace and the Lake.

Slowly Shayne shook her head, questioning his sanity more than once, but internally she couldn't help but smile. Where she is goal orientated, pessimistic and focused on the task at hand, Zeke is lighthearted, carefree and perpetually optimistic. And because of their polar opposite differences, they work exceptionally well together.

Once the dressed in black, spinning, blue haired teen danced away, flirting with some older women that were stroking his ego while he complimented their 'Betty Davis eyes', Shayne looked across the courtyard, her eyes studying the hurrying crowd from the concealment of her hood. Not many people hang out in the parks at night, especially in the summer. There's an aura of danger that Worldlies unconsciously pick up on. Some call it intuition or the voice of reason. Shayne calls it a warning to get the hell out, to go and hide in their homes, apartments, lofts and hotels, and to stay out of the Shadowlands while the hunters roam, for they are nothing more than easy prey.

Shayne's pessimism is poetic. Omniel calls it Shadowlands' poetry. Zeke calls it PMS. Shayne simply shrugs and walks off. In her opinion, reality is gritty and dirty, disgusting and grotesque so why look at it through rose tinted glass?

And rose tinted glass is the last thing she's seeing through tonight. Tonight her vision is tinted crimson with murderous rage. No one steals from her. No one!

As the last of the crepuscular light blended away to sapphire, a dark figure appeared across from the Angel of the Waters fountain, his black cloak flapping away from him in the wind, eyes burning into hers from the concealment of his hood.

"Predictable thief," Shayne snarled under her breath and held her arm out then opened her hand. The mala dropped from her clenched fist and swung like a pendulum anchored around her wrist.

The man snarled and opened his cloak. Shayne's necklace was around his neck, resting on top of his leather armament and he smirked when he heard the unmistakable sound of a murderous growl rolling from the Knight's throat. Satisfied that he had made his point, he wrapped his hands around the tsukas of the sai sheathed at his back.

Shayne took a deep breath to steady herself, and wrapped her gloved hands around the marbled purple and gray handles of the stilettos she wore specifically for the thief; a fan of dragons shall be slayed like one. She rolled her neck, cracking it loudly before pulling the stilettos from their purple and black sheaths. The long, slender, iron blades made a soft metallic slicing sound as they easily pulled free from their sheaths and the man's head tilted to the side to regard her.

The soft purple hum rolling across the blades confused him but impressed him at the same time. He doesn't have anything like them in his limited arsenal. He's seen weapons infused with power before but every time he tried to wield them they combusted into flames, leaving nothing but ash behind. This master will be his greatest adversary yet!