Mara was at her best when the moon was high and the night cold.
Two guards in knee-length blue coats were stomping their feet beside the entrance of the Church of Man. Mara could just see the fog of their breaths as they spoke in low voices to one another. "--old building, almost a shame," the nearest one said. She perked her long ears to hear better, but her eyes continued to roam over the overgrown garden and short fence between herself and the church.
Tonight was the last night that this church would stand. Tomorrow, sometime in the evening, the old steeple would be torn down and the building demolished. They were going to build a foundry here; the pursuit of profit racing ahead of the pursuit of the gods.
The guards went quiet as a pair of younger men in long blue robes walked out of the building, each holding one end of a chest. The young men--both acolytes--moved about, grunting and muttering until they leveraged the chest onto the back of one of the three carts parked on the cobblestone street.
Mara licked her lips and glared at the men as they retreated back into the building. The Church of Man was no more. The old religion supplanted by a newer, fresher faith. While this new faith didn't much care for the trappings and symbols of the older church, it did know the value of the gold used to decorate the old church's trappings.
She too, was familiar with the value of gold.
With a tiny grunt, Mara pushed herself up and circled around the bush, taking the long way around to the back of the church. There, she placed one padded hand on the top of the fence and hopped over, landing with a soft thump on the cold ground beyond.
She crouched, ears twisting and turning to listen to the night.
"-Mother used to come here sometimes; dragged me here too," she heard the other guard say. Their shadows were long on the ground near the front of the building, pushed out by the bluish glow of a glowball.
Mara moved closer to the stone wall of the church and leaned up against it. She had to be quiet. The Reckoners--the new church--were very vocal about their dislike of both thieves and beastkin. If they caught hold of her now, they would be overjoyed.
There was a back door to the church, but it was boarded up, and she doubted she would have the time to pick the tiny lock before the second pair of guards made their rounds. She needed to get in through the front, and to do that, she needed a distraction.
Keeping low, Mara went around the building and to the alley on the other side, where it bordered an old butcher's shop. She walked slowly, avoiding the broken bottles and shards of stained glass that dotted the alley ground until she was near the front of the church.
"How much do you think it's all worth?" One of the guards asked.
She moved forward, just enough to peek around the edge.
Both guards were looking out towards the street, hands idly caressing the spears they each held. One was an elf, with lithe features and sharp ears poking out from beneath his cap. The other was a particularly tall gnome who was toying with a small wand in his free hand. He shrugged. "Dunno. Figure more than we're worth."
Just beyond were three carts, left unattended except for the presence of the guards and the fear of the locals. No one would be stupid enough to anger the Reckoners.
Mara cursed herself silently. She should never have taken this contract.
Shaking her head, she refocused. The elf probably had great night vision, but he was near the entrance and there was a streetlight across the road from him. His night vision would be weakened by it. Gnomes were practically blind at the best of times, so she didn't worry about the shorter guard.
Biting her lip between her two tiny fangs, she stared at the lone horse tethered to the foremost cart and then ran.
Her footsteps sounded out as soft pats on the cobblestones, no louder than a raindrop hitting dry earth, but to her attuned and nervous ears, the noise was deafening. She rounded the cart and stopped next to the horse, sticking to the shadows cast by the large animal. Her heart was trying to beat its way out of her chest, as though she had run around the city, as opposed to just a few short feet.
"Don't dwell on it, friend. I hear we're getting extra for pulling a shift this late," the elven guard said.
Mara let out a breath and tried to relax. Beside her, the horse made a breathy noise, as though imitating her sigh.
She turned to the animal, a younger draft horse that smelled faintly of sweat and manure. Mara touched its side, gently patting it as she moved an arm behind her back. With a smooth, practiced motion she withdrew the knife tucked up against her lower back and sliced apart the nearest of the leather bindings.
The horse side-stepped a little, but didn't move beyond that.
She gave it another little pat, then slipped under the cart.
Earlier, she had seen them place blocks under the wheels to prevent the cart from moving. With a few swift kicks, she pushed them out from under the wheel. The cart was now loose, and the horse held only on one side. Mara shifted her weight from foot to foot, trying to keep her muscles from tensing up in case she had to move quickly.
She replaced her knife with a different one. This one was as long as her hand, and wrapped in rough leather up to the inch-long point. The throwing knife spun on her palm as she toyed with it.
Footsteps at the front of the church announced the two acolytes bringing out another chest. They maneuvered around, heading towards the rearmost cart.
When she saw their legs not five paces from her, Mara half-turned and whipped out her hand, throwing the little knife towards the horse.
It bit into the flesh into the horse's flank--not too deep to stick, but enough to hurt--then fell to the ground. The horse spooked while Mara moved past the second cart's animal and slid under it.
With a loud neigh, the lead horse bounded forward and yanked the cart along with it. The cart, tied only on one side as it was, veered towards the right. The horse reacted, turning in the same direction, and running in a half circle to face the opposite side of the street.
The quick turn-about whipped out the cart and sent it crashing into the streetlamp. It tipped over, still being dragged by the draft horse and spilled onto its side.
Chests, rolled up carpets, and a small wooden writing desk crashed onto the street. One of the chests cracked open and let dozens of little diamond-chips spill out onto the cobblestones, their ethereal white light flashing and glinting as they tinkled across the road.
The guards were shouting and the acolytes were shouting back. All four rushed towards the disaster, one of them trying to calm the horse as it continued to drag the upturned cart along, grinding it along the road. The greenish light of nature magic began to glow next to the horse as it was gentled.
Mara bolted.
With three great strides, she hopped up the stairs leading to the entrance of the church and slipped in.
She paused, just for a second as her slitted eyes adjusted to the light.
The lobby was shaped like a V, with two passages branching out to either side and a small unevenly shaped room to one side with wooden coat racks lining the wall. It was surprisingly empty, the walls marked with squarish shadows where paintings used to hang.
She skirted out of the entryway and down one of the branching paths. At the end of each was a curving staircase that led up to the second level where balconies would allow visitors to look down at the church's proceedings.
She climbed, slowing as she reached the top.
Any other day, she would avoid a contract like this one. But Mara Lighteyes was growing desperate, and a certain discerning customer of only mildly-ill repute had made her an offer she could not pass up.
The Church of Man had been rich not so long ago, and in its attempt to show off its riches, the Church had illuminated the halls with the pure, white light of a soul orb. For anyone else, a few simple, inexpensive glowballs would suffice to keep any home brightly lit, but the church wanted to stand out.
As she rounded the top of the stairs she could see the pure radiance of the soul orb lighting the room. It was like a small, soft sun, giving off light that was both pure and full of radiance. The orb would never grow dull, it would never flicker if someone used magic nearby, and it would give off a soothing warmth at all times of the year. It was also worth ten times its weight in gold.
After confirming that she was alone on the balcony, Mara stood just a little taller and stared up at the orb. It hung from the ceiling within a cage of wrought iron, held up by three chains. The chains were tied to hooks set at even intervals around the room, all accessible from the balcony. The problem was, if she unhooked them, the orb would fall down.
She inched ahead, coming to the edge where the viewing platform stopped at a waist-high railing. Below, she could see three people. The second pair of guards, and an older gentleman in the elaborate, layer robes of the Reckoner's high clergy.
"What do you suppose that was?" the older man asked.
"Should we go and inspect, my lord?" one of the guards, a dwarf with golden trim along the edge of his coat, asked.
"Just one of you," the man said.
While one of the guards moved to see what was going on, Mara backed away from the edge. She realized that she was chewing on her long, sharp thumbnail, and stopped. Usually, she had time to prepare for a heist. Time to plan distractions, or at least case the joint out. This contract was one of opportune timing. She'd learned about it a few hours ago. Mara ran through possibilities in her mind.
The orb was brilliant, and would obviously be noticed the moment she got her paws on it. Worse, the people doing the noticing were armed and ruthless, very much capable of either poking a hole through her, or burning her to a crisp with a stray fireball. She needed to get the orb down, go fetch it, then leave, all without getting noticed.
Or did she...
A slow grin crossed her features.
With a few quick steps, she went around the balcony, avoiding the low wooden benches that were lined up along its edge, and reached the large metal hook that held the orb's chain in place. She waited for the sound of the guard's boots to ring through the amphitheatre before hopping up and grabbing the chain.
It jangled a little, but the swaying was hardly noticeable, and the lighting in the room didn't shift much.
Gently, she pulled herself up, wrapping her legs around the base of the chain while snaking out her arms to hold the chain further up. Mara began to climb, slowly at first, pausing with every motion to make sure that she made as little noise as possible, but faster as she approached her goal.
By twisting her head around, she could see the ground two stories below, the stone floor of the church grayed where a carpet had run across the length of the room. The high clergyman was at the podium at the front of the room, bent over an old text filled with symbols of the Church of Man. He chuckled, and Mara shivered as the sound reverberated across the room.
She had never been to this church—or any other, really-- but she could imagine how it must have been just a few years ago. Filled with gold and silver trim and long wooden benches all angled towards the low podium. There were picture frames all lined up in a stack on one side of the room, the topmost depicting a scene of a tall humanoid being, bending down to help a group of children; little elves and beast-kin and even a few goblins and gnomes. One of the Men that the church used to worship.
Mara reached the bowl-like cage that held the soul orb. Now the tricky part. She needed to pop the orb out, find a way down, and run out of the room.
Someone entered, then three more people. She cursed under her breath. Had they stayed outside, she would only have to deal with one old man before making a run for it. Turning about, she looked down again.
The two acolytes were standing next to the clergyman. The two guards that had been with him earlier were back. "Nearly done, my lord. I enlisted the help of captain Bronzetooth and he sent these two young men with us. A few more trips to carry those paintings and the podium itself, then all that will be left is the soul orb. Although, that will be tricky to get down."
As one, the five looked up.
Mara made eye contact with the clergyman, then the guard with the golden-trimmed coat. "Dammit," she muttered.
"Guards! To me!" the guard captain—Bronzetooth—yelled with a voice that could strip the skin off a recruit's hide from across a barracks room. In the church, with its passive sound amplification magics, the noise made Mara's ears ring.
Mara scrambled up the last few feet and gripped the cage on two ends. It rocked wildly from side to side, her dangling feet swinging as she tried to hook one on the chain she had been on. It took two tries before she was able to slow her momentum.
Just as she began to reach around and towards the inside of the cage, a fist-size ball of fire rocketed by her head, drying the air that was in her lungs and making her cringe away from it. There was a faint smell of burning hair and Mara felt her heart sinking.
She should have stayed in bed. Screw that stupid goblin.
"Take aim," the guard captain said, and the three guard—two had rushed in while she was preoccupied—leveled their wands at her.
Mara didn't think, she acted. Twisting around, she freed one hand and pulled out the dagger strapped to her back and swung it. It took two bone jarring hits before the chain opposite hers snapped. The cage, orb, and young beastkin girl swayed towards the centre of the room.
Three blazing balls of fire slipped through the air where she had been and exploded against the ceiling.
The old wooden timbers began to pour out smoke. The anti-fire magic placed on the building could only take so much of a battering before it gave way.
Mara glanced down in time to meet the captain's eyes as he levelled his own wand at her.
He spoke words that jarred in her mind, sounds and syllables that she could hear, but couldn't at the same time. A fourth fireball zipped towards her, faster than the rest, and glowing a bright, ethereal blue.
Mara tossed herself forwards, gripping the chain opposite hers and swinging around to avoid the searing ball. It rammed the chain where she had been, melting through the old wrought iron as though it were little more than paper before slamming against the ceiling.
The roof lit up like a goblin-fuel covered bonfire.
Mara hardly had time to process this as the second chain stretched, then snapped.
With only one chain holding the orb, and this one anchored across the room, the cage swung around like a doomed pendulum. She kicked out towards the oncoming wall, bracing some of the jarring impact by bending her knees just as she slammed against the wall.
It still hurt, and she lost her grip on the chain as both she and the orb's cage crashed to the ground.
Mara was given a whole two seconds to breath as a few rows of wooden benches hid her from the guards and acolytes. Looking around in a daze, she saw that the cage had broken open, and that the orb was only a few scant inches away from her.
She tossed herself on it, prying the soul orb out of the cage and hugging the orb close to her chest as she jumped to her feet.
"Hold!" a commanding voice spoke across the room.
Mara stared as the three guards and their captain levelled spears at her, tucking them under their elbows and the crook of their arms to keep the weapons steady. In their other hands they held out their firebrand wands, pointed right at her.
It was the old clergyman who had spoken. "Hold, there's no need for you to die this night. Just leave the orb on the ground, and I swear upon the sanctity of the Reckoners that you will be sa--" he cut himself off as he examined her, his eyes trailing from her fox-like ears to the long, fluffy tail twitching behind her. He sneered, his noble face twisting in disgust. "A beast girl. I retract what I said. Vermin like you deserve no less than death for crossing us. Captain, I will take care of this," the last he spoke to Bronzetooth.
"Aye, my lord."
The clergyman lifted both arms before him and began to speak quickly, sounds that overlapped each other in a guttural and harsh tongue that made Mara dizzy. She saw little arcs of lightning flash to life between his outstretched arms.
It was then that she remembered. To become a member of the clergy of the Reckoners, you needed to be at least a second tier magic user. Those of higher rank were usually proportionally stronger at the arcane arts. For all she knew, the man before her could be fifth, or sixth tier arcanist.
She was going to die.
A circle of crimson light floated around his arms like a halo and his voice grew like a crescendo. The buzzing of a thousand bees filled the room and his spell shot off.
The finger-thick arc of reddish lightning speared towards her, zigzagging through the air as it sped at her faster than she could blink.
Without thinking, the young woman screamed and raised the orb before her, placing it between herself and the beam of pure red death. She had time to see the clergyman's eyes widen in horror before the beam touched the orb.
It slipped into the ball of light, as though the soul orb was syphoning the spell into its core. Briefly, the ball glowed a faint red, casting its radiance across the room along with a wave of warmth. Mara was relieved. The orb had eaten the spell. She was safe.
"Get down!" the priest yelled, shoving the captain at his side to the ground before he threw himself down too.
Mara blinked at the panicking Reckoners. Hadn't the orb eaten the spell? She looked down at the orb just as it began to shiver in her hands, its light dimming as it grew suddenly cold.
A beam of white and purple lightning, a foot across speared out of the orb and arced across the room. It flickered about like the death throes of a dying snake, slicing across the room and tore gauges into the stone walls, sliced one of the acolytes clean in half and then reached out to the ceiling.
The roof started melting, spreading the smell of burnt carbon throughout the place.
With a resounding boom, the spell shot into the night sky, punching a million holes in the clouds above as the spell spread apart like the branches of an enormous, electric tree.
Mara felt a trickle of warmth running along the side of her legs. Her breath was coming in small gasps and her vision was growing blurry.
The room was quiet, save for the groans of the fallen guards who had been in the path of the wild beam.
Swallowing hard, Mara tucked the orb into the satchel at her side and plunged the room into darkness. Her eyes still used to the brilliant light, she took a few precious seconds to reach the lobby.
"We're going to come after you, girl," the high clergyman screamed after her. "This isn't over, you foul beast."
Mara took his words to heart and ran.
"I'm going to beat that damned goblin," she swore to herself.