A Mess of a World: the Etched Stone

8.1) Tristis

Tristis walked along the alleyway of the slums, wandering aimlessly, lost in thoughts.

So close. He chided himself for the umpteenth time, kicking at the gravel beneath.

His inevitable conversation with the Misted Rogues was already playing in his mind; he'd tell them that he had been caught, again; they wouldn't care, again; and he'd go and have to do another job for them, again.

He let out a hard sigh and folded in his arms as the chill in the air began to bite. Mages walked on the other side of the street of him, keeping careful distance from anyone they deemed a threat, as they lit up the streetlamps.

One more job. Tristis reminded himself. And then I'll be free.

Despite trying for positivity, it wasn't one of his defining traits, and he couldn't mask the disappointment of the situation. Of himself.

No. Not me. It was that girl! That Jade! If she hadn't been there then- then- He punched the air in front of him. A short sigh escaped him and as he continued forward, his eyes fell upon the movement in front of him.

Red hair trailed behind the girl's baggy clothes, and, as if sensing his accusing gaze, she turned.

Both took a few seconds before recognition came and Tristis charged towards her. She matched his glare and met him halfway.

The two stood a foot apart before Tristis snarled, "You! You messed everything up!"

"Why are you following me? That stupid guard already let you go away."

Jade stamped into a defensive position. Her green eyes watched him testily.

He pulled his knife out of his pocket and pointed it at her. "I want the ring back."

His tone was demanding and resolute, but inside he wavered. Does she still have it? If she doesn't... Well, if I can get it back, then everything will be alright! I can send it ahead and then lay low. It took an effort to not show the excited effect those thoughts had on him.

She faltered, thinking about her next words, "I don't have it anymore. And even if I did, why do you think I would give it to you? You stole it!" Her hands curled into tight fists.

"I wouldn't do that if I were you," He said automatically, before internally cursing at himself.

Jade stared with visible confusion and he put his free hand to his forehead, sighing, "I meant your hands. You need to loosen them, or you'll dig your nails into your skin and hurt yourself before a fight has even begun."

She shook her head. "What does that have to do with anything?"

"Nothing. Now, where did you put it? Surely you didn't give back to that weepy old woman." He took a step forward. "Tell me."

In shorter time than a thought, the girl slapped the weapon out of his surprised hands. Sounds of it hitting the ground a few feet away echoed in the immediate area.

The force and speed was enough to make Tristis scramble for a coherent course of action, but his body moved ahead of his mind that stayed two steps behind. He lunged and pushed her to the ground. As she fell he moved and reached out for his knife.

She did the same but was quicker.

Jade punched his face, and he, done with any form of chivalry, hit her back. They both scrambled away from each other and crouched in readiness. Tristis tried to keep out of reach, in case she decided to turn his blade against him, while also trying to retrieve it. And she tried to kick his feet out from under him.