The festival was only just beginning but there was quite a bit of people there already. Fire dancers danced on one side of the street as the crowds cheered. Stalls lined the other, selling merchandise. Elia spotted mountains of sticky sweets and spicy food, as well as an assortment of objects that seemed to have no purpose in the festival.
Elia stopped at one stall selling masks and asked for directions.
"A fan of magic, eh?" he replied. "They'll be holding that event in the big red tent over there but they aren't going to start the show until at least an hour till midnight. Can you see the tent? You can't miss it."
Elia thanked him. She had time then, but if the mage really was participating, then he may already be here, rehearsing his act perhaps.
The tent was easy enough to find, just like the man said. It was the biggest one around. She also noticed several suspicious looking individuals lurking around it.
His guards? she wondered. Could be. They were wearing normal attire; attempting to blend in with normal citizens but not quite pulling it off. Plus the weapons concealed at their waists were a big clue they were not quite normal.
Looked like the kid wasn't lying. For a while, Elia had wondered whether this was all a trap. Didn't matter. She would've come anyway if it meant there was a chance at reaching her mark.
Now the question was how to get inside the tent unnoticed.
People walked past her as she watched the tent, completely unaware she was there. Good, she wanted to be invisible. Elia was about to move when a careless Messenger boy stumbled into her. Annoyed, she leveled him with a glare.
The clumsy boy met her gaze. "Sorry," he apologized, frightened.
His fear of her was not an uncommon reaction. Elia knew many people find her red eyes more than a little disconcerting. This person in particular was barely an adult, tall and slim, and he carried with him a bulging Messenger's bag.
Here was the answer to her dilemma. Elia studied his uniform. It might be a little big for her but beggars can't be choosers.
She looked at the boy and forced a smile on her face, hoping it looked friendly. No dice. His eyes widened and mumbling something started to back away from her.
Elia acted quickly. Her hand went to the darts laced with a strong sedative that will knockout it's victims immediately. She had them specially prepared for this mission. She pricked the boy on the arm.
He flinched away from her, "What're you-" he didn't finish his sentence as the drug did it's magic and he swayed. Elia wrapped an arm around his waist and guided him to a hidden spot between the tents. Nobody paid any mind to them. For all they knew, she was just a woman helping her friend who drank a little too much, home.
The whole thing was over far quicker than Elia had thought as she rolled up her pants and sleeves. The Messenger boy would wake up in a few hours wondering where he was, and where his clothes were but he wouldn't remember a thing. He'll probably get arrested for public nudity, maybe even get mistaken for the Exhibitionist. Oh well.
A little cruel but a necessary evil.
She pulled the uniform's hood low - a convenient feature meant to keep the sun out of the wearer's face, but one that let her identity be concealed.
The disguised guards didn't come near her, let alone stop her as she approached.
Elia entered the busy tent. People were milling about, perfecting their final touches on their costumes or practicing last minute rehearsals.
Huge lanterns hung from the corners of the rectangular tent. There were large empty bleachers positioned around the stage where actors would be performing.
Elia didn't spot her mark anywhere.
Where would he be? Elia thought, where would he be?
The chief mage was an honoured guest who offered to perform on the show tonight, so he's probably hidden away somewhere. Maybe he has his own tent? Elia pondered. In which case, she was probably in the wrong place entirely.
Then what about the guards outside? No, he's most likely somewhere here in this tent, perhaps thinking he was safe among the other performers. It really was a good thing Elia returned to Khore when she did. Who knew when this kind of opportunity to strike will rise again?
Still, he would have his own space here, she deduced, a space given to him by the show's gracious hosts.
Elia noticed people going in and out through a curtained area near the stage. A sign stood posted nearby; Staff Only. It was most likely where they did all the makeup, but it was worth checking out, she decided.
Elia navigated her way there and walked in confidently.
"Can I help you?" A high pitched voice asked from right behind Elia.
Obviously, she stood out. Must be the uniform.
"Yes." Elia turned to the speaker, a middle aged woman wearing bright red paint on her lips and dark khol around her eyes. "I have a message for a Mr Devlin. Could you tell me where to find him?"
"Devlin?" The woman blinked in surprise. "He went out just a while ago. Why don't you give me the letter and I'll hand it over to him?" She held out a painted hand expectantly.
"Negative, Ma'am," Elia replied stiffly. "That's against our code, I'm afraid. I'm obliged to make sure the letter gets to the right hands."
"Oh, well in that case, you can wait for him in his private space." The woman led Elia to a closed off curtained area that acted as a private dressing room and left.
Alone, Elia took off her hood. She shook her head slowly. This was too easy. Was this all it took to bypass security these days? A uniform.
As Elia hid in the shadows, patiently waiting for her victim like a spider in its web, she couldn't help but feel like she was missing the big picture. Something didn't feel quite right. She felt like she was being played. Either that or this Devlin really thought he was safe.
Or being the chief mage, he was confident in his ability to defend himself.
It wasn't long before someone entered the room. He didn't notice her hovering in the corner besides the curtain like door.
Elia waited until her target was well into the room. "Hello, Mr Devlin." she said, positioning herself between him and the only way out.
He whirled around. "Who are you?"
Dark hair, dark eyes, a scar on his right cheek. Elia felt her excitement rising. This was definitely him.
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