Twenty two years ago...
Dusk slowly crept up on the bustling city of Ravenshade. City lights slowly faded on as the coming night came over the city, making the stars impossible to spot in the lit streets. The vehicle traffic was lower than what was very busy in the daylight. Few pedestrians wandered aimlessly, having not very many places to be except for home or late night food. The only thing off was at the parlor down on the edge of Ravenshade.
The first sign of movement was not a whistle...
But a shadow.
Then more shadows flickered on the walls...
A whole group, dressed in all black slunk through the night city with caution in their demeanor. Each gaze flicking around aimlessly, watching for any prying eyes or ears. The silence between them all was deafening, until one of them shattered the silence and said, "Who are we taking?"
The group was silent, the question looming over them until someone else answered.
"Whoever that coward of a boss decides to give us." The second one sneered. The group continued to move until they reached the front of the parlor, where a few guards stood. The guard's eyes were trained on their surroundings, hands lingering near their weapons, as if sensing there would be a breach. "Damnit, did they know we're coming?" One of them murmured hushedly.
"No, not for long." Another whispered. There wasn't much time before the figure whipped out a dagger and tossed it. The blade clattered against the cement, attracting the attention of the guardsmen. Cautiously, all but one moved in the direction of the sound. The one who threw the dagger hissed softly under their breath, their expression terse and hard to read.
One of the others noticed the fence and silently climbed over, remaining unnoticed. The rest of the gang looked over at the sound of his feet hitting the pavement. "Coming or not?" The male hissed. "Don't ever embarrass me again." The other shot back. The rest of them quietly hopped the fence, their feet silent against the pavement. Each step they took brought them closer to the parlor, and their target. Without a word, one of them crept up to the door and opened it, motioning the rest in silently.
The lead's eyes, a piercing hazel looked around quizzically. "Well? Where is he?" She hissed. Almost as if on cue, a bullet was shot, striking one of them square in the shoulder. The member hissed loudly and the lead's eyes snapped in the direction of the gunshot.
"I don't think sneaking into my parlor was the best idea for a meeting, hmm?" A voice rang out.
All heads then turned to the man who stepped out of the shadows. He was taller than the rest in the room, most likely six and half feet. His eyes were a sharp blue, almost icy in tone. He had a muscular build to him and his hair was dark, neatly combed, black in color. His clothes were a mix of black and silver, sharp black boots hidden below the pant legs to finish him up.
"We came for our delivery, Silas." The lead member spoke, her tone firm. Her gaze met his challengingly, as if daring him to shoot someone again. A low, very cold chuckle left his lips, his eyes glinting with dangerous intent. "Now, now, what's the rush? You have till dawn to get them back, no?" He spoke mockingly.
"Shut up and just give us our damn delivery!" She ordered sharply, her hand resting on a longsword at her hip.
He only sighed, though there was no defeat in his tone, only a cruel satisfaction. "Very well." He confirmed. His strides took him over to the couch where a young child, no older than a few months were. His fingers gripped the child, loosely but firmly before carrying her over. Before he could hand over the child a voice cried out,
"Wait! Don't give them my child!" A female, no older than her early thirties spoke. Her husband joined her quickly, his gaze dark. "Silas, put down our child, now." The husband ordered.
Silas only smirked, "That's not your decision to make now is it, Thomas?" He sneered. "Let her go!" Thomas snapped, his expression cold. "Take me instead." Another spoke up. She was clearly the oldest of Thomas's children. "No, you have more potential here than you would with them, Violet." Silas spoke firmly.
His fingers handed the guests the child, his gaze cold but distant. She gratefully took the baby with a satisfied glint in her eyes. "The work is done, Silas." She spoke one last time before turning to walk away. Thomas' wife named Anna fell to her knees, grieving about their now given away child.
"What have you done, Silas?" Anna spoke between her cries. Silas only chuckled darkly, as if pleased to see her broken over the loss. He spoke one last time before turning and ascending the stairwell next to him,
"What no one else could've done."