A boy was walking alone down a dark street. The boy was skinny, he had blond hair and gray eyes. He was on a winding street that had very few street lamps here and there. In the middle of a dark spot, a black figure started following him. He reached for his concealed daggers in his belt. Once he had them in his hands he felt a pain in his ankles. Then the figure struck his wrists knocking the daggers from his hands. The figure took the daggers. The boy put up his hands, empty. " I'm from the order of the daggers." said the boy. " Now, can I please have my daggers back?" The figure moved and rolled up its sleeve to show a small black arrowhead mark on its left arm. Then dropped his daggers on the ground and ran. He picked up his daggers and put them away. He looked around but the figure was gone.
