The thin, piping cries of a baby echoed around the room. A proud father looks down upon a child. His child. The mother, laying on the dingy bed, holds her son with a loving embrace. The cabin was small and Spartan; the only furniture was a worn table with two old chairs, a threadbare rug decorating the creaky wooden floor, and a small, badly-made bed. This was to be his first home.

South-Eastern Devardec, Day 21 of Deori's Pleasure of the year
278

The game continued, the young boys playing with a ball they had found an hour or so before. One boy distinguished himself, running faster, shouting louder, kicking harder. The others noted and respected this, and so deferred to him on all subjects of importance.

The young Khepyr, watching from the side, couldn't help but equate the children to a wolf pack. He was, however, interrupted from his musings by a small child, out of breath and flushed in the face.

"Someone sent this to you," he remarked, not making eye contact. He handed over a small note before running off again, no doubt on another errand. Khepyr opened the folded page, recognizing the handwriting immediately. It was an interesting note, full of information.

This is his power. While he may not be the alpha male; not the biggest, fastest, nor the strongest, his power lay in knowledge.

South-Eastern Devardec, Day 11 of Awakenings of the year
280

Knowledge can, sometimes, be more deadly than a dagger in the dark. Khepyr had a message from one of his informers; a young boy of twelve, who worked as a servant to a wealthy landowner. A few weeks before he had sent Khepyr a missive, the details of which had shocked him. It had been life changing information; with this he held power over one of the richest men in the area. Now he held another message from the same informer, and, as he opened it, he found himself holding his breath.

"K –

He knows. The messenger I sent read the message and told a friend, who immediately informed him. Avoid your home; make for Tranos."

The shock froze Khepyr; the blood in his veins became poison. Words flew through his head: "Avoid your home." His parents were at home.

He had never been all that athletic, but still was in good shape. He reached his home within minutes; only to find a wreck. Some of his neighbors approached him, telling him how, according to some men claiming to be Officers of the Watch, the house had collapsed, crushing the two people inside. These Officers also asked about his whereabouts, questioning the neighbors at length.

The word was rushing past, and all Khepyr could hear was the beating of his own heart. Thuddum. Thuddum.

Thuddum.

Frostfall, Day 25 of Hallow Month of the year
281

It was not even winter and yet Khepyr was freezing; he dreaded the months to come. He had been living on the streets a long while, and Frostfall was, during the summer, not an overly harsh place. There was always some food to steal, always an alley to rest in. But now, it was a dismal, cold place, all but abandoned as the citizens shut themselves in for winter, their provisions safely locked up. Small markets were still operational around the city, and it was at one of these that Khepyr now found himself. A fresh loaf of bread lay on a table ahead of him, its owner looking the other way as he chatted with a nearby merchant. Rushing forward, Khepyr made a wild grab for the loaf, and managed to swing away and down the street. Behind him came shouts, and two Officers of the Watch emerged through the crowd, giving chase. He cut left, climbing over a low wall and jumping a narrow ditch. One of the Officers followed him cleanly, while the other hadn't seen the ditch and was now sprawled out on the floor. Khepyr swerved to his right, ducking under a curtain of cloaks and crawling through a small hole in the broken down wall to his right; he was safe.

The Black Market, Frostfall, Day 25 of Hallow Month of the year
281

"You run well," came a voice, as Khepyr spun to face the man. "You are very agile. Are you skilled with weaponry?"

"I am adequate."

"Join me, my friend. Let us speak a while."

Khepyr examined the man, noting his dark garb. "What is you name?"

"Edward Fox."

The Assassins' Guild, Frostfall, Day 29 of Weeping Skies of the year
282

The lizard king had been a relatively simple task, especially with the sword Edward Fox had lent to him. Khepyr felt right about this place – it had taken him in, and he would repay it. This was his second home.

Unknown, Day Unknown of Hallow Month of the year
299

A room filled with people. A dark pit of shadows.

A blade, a drip of blood.

A welcome.

This was his third, and final, home.