It wasn't a shadow.
The two guards stood nervously, occasionally looking up at the star filled sky and the towers of the keep behind them.
It wasn’t a shadow.
He didn’t even have to look, he knew. The guard on his right lay dead in a pool of his own blood, his throat slit. He closed his eyes and prayed to the star above. They were silent, they always were. After all the pain and death and sorrow they witnessed they were always there, observing us, mocking us, pitting us . . . In the end, they will be the only ones to remain.
He unsheathed his sword readying himself for the fight he knew he couldn't win. This was a good way to die. Stars are often a symbol of hope. A cloudy night represents despair.
He stood still, clenching his sword to his heart. Breath weakening, the stars looked down upon him. The Shadow looked down upon him.
It wasn’t a shadow.
The second guard fell to her feet. It was all so easy – a swipe of a knife, an unheard scream and then only eternal silence. She was a weapon, a fine blade made to cut through throats and pierce through hearts, it's what she was born to do. It came easy to her now. People live and people die, just like that. It has always been that way. One moment we're here and then were not and there's nothing we can do about it, nothing to stop the inevitable, in the end, death is the only thing that remains, death and the stars.
The night sky lit up her face like a crystal chandelier. The night was under siege by stars – they were the colour of everything and the colour of nothing. The night sky had a quality to it - a texture like ink spilled on paper, like smooth black silk.
Past the towers, through the gates, she dominated the night. She silenced the stars, she was a black hole, she was death.
Click, the window opened.
The Shadow slipped in.
She strode through the hallways. Silent steps and cat-like grace, as if she was floating. Like a shadow. As she crept towards the nobleman's room she reached for her blade, the steel reflecting off of the starlight.
The door creaked open. The Shadow's eyes darted around the room, getting used to the new environment. The night deceives our eyes. It makes colours seem what they are not. Red turns to grey and yellow turns to white, in moments like this we must decide what is true and what is not.
He didn't see it coming, but that didn't stop him from trying to live. As she raised the blade over the sleeping nobleman his eyes shot open, sensing the danger. He quickly slid off of the bed, knocking himself into her. It wasn't enough. Her blade pierced into his back. She slapped her free hand around his mouth to muffle his scream and threw him on his stomach. Before he could make any noise she yanked his head towards her by his hair, the blade running across his throat. His body fell limply onto the floor. To many death was the end, but to her it was freedom, it was the undeniable truth.
She stood in front of the corpse for a while until she reached to her pouch and pulled out a coin. She flipped the coin towards the dead man. It made no sound as it hit the floor, the blood pooling around it. "For your trouble."