Never Fire [ONC2020]

Chapter 1: The Looking Glass

The sea was glassy like eyes full of tears. Though wind caressed the waves with gentle knuckles and though ships grazed the surface with sails like gauze, the ocean remained on the edge of a sob. Morning mist hung in the air with shame, and stormy clouds threatened to spill over like the sea's eyes. The watery world of coastal Arthios in Djianora rested at the cusp of weeping and the cusp of waking, its waters still dressed in funeral black and its skies ornamented with the earliest beginnings of dawn and storm.

In the middle of her own storm, however, was Sienna Diaz. As she crossed the street, northwest winds leftover from the night sifted through her hair, blowing the dark strands over her face before she tucked them safely behind her ear. Then, she tucked herself into the darkness of the governor's deep-set doorway. The door was locked, but that wasn't a problem. She pulled the necklace she'd been wearing over her head. Inserting the necklace's ancient, rusted key into the knob and turning, Sienna slipped into the house.

She strained her still-adjusting eyes in the darkness thick like velvet as it pressed against her. Suddenly, she was very aware of the silence in the house, the crushing silence that caged her—

No, not silent. The feathery rise and fall of sleepy respiration softly filled the house from the other room.

Sienna took a step back, doubt drowning her and fear sending her up for air. The woman who'd given her the key at the docks had told her the governor and his family would be out of town for the weekend. Now what? Sienna's hand reached for the doorknob behind her, but she stopped.

Djianora was her best one. If she couldn't do this, then she couldn't stay there.

She started forward. Quieting even her breathing, Sienna stepped lightly as she approached the close and open bedroom of the governor.

A light, ocean breeze graced the shafts of moonlight in between the closed shutters of the room, sending a chill up Sienna's spine. Ever so slowly, she crept past the veiled bed and winced when the breathing coming from it became sharp—and then the sounds ceased altogether. Her heart beat to the rhythm of a Paracii execution, fast and frantic. She stood still, praying she would melt into the nightly shadows of a dark room if the governor and his wife were to wake.

When the sounds of sleep resumed, Sienna saw what she was looking for in the furthest corner of the quarters: the governor's desk, and the paper somewhere in the stack on it. Carefully, she lifted the stack and held it to one of the dim beams shining through the near shutter. She started to sort through them, page after page finding themselves in her other hand before—

There. 'Theft Report 3-45-2: Nena Diaphen'.

She slid the paper out, gently placing the stack back on the desk.

"I hope you're weren't planning on doing anything with that paper."

Whirling around, Sienna's eyes grew wide—the shadowy figure of the governor stood by his bedside. Something was in his hand. A blade? A phoryth shooter? She took a step back, glancing at the windows and then at the door. "I don't want any trouble. I won't hurt you, so just let me leave."