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Jaffar the Hidden

Chapter 1
Eternal Darkness


The hot wind and sand hurt his eyes. The sun’s rays made it even harder to see as he made his way through Persepolis, one of the three capitals of Persia. The sand infested earth beneath his feet had been his home for seventeen years yet the sand in his eyes still bothered him to this day. On a day like this he would have stayed in his home despite the displeasure of his family. However, he had been offered quite a far sum of gold to deliver this message and he would be dammed if he missed this opportunity of wealth.
A week ago he had been approached by a man who needed a message delivered to a caravan group heading north. The task could have been given to any small boy but the man had given one other stipulation: he could not be seen by any other member of the caravan. He had agreed because the man had offered him 50 gold pieces for the task. 50 gold pieces! Half a year’s work for the message and stealth had always been one of his strong suits.
He approached the caravan at night in the cover of darkness and delivered his message flawlessly. Verbatim he repeated what the stranger he told him and with little effort he left the caravan unseen. Upon returning he was granted the 50 gold pieces as promised and was offered yet another delivery assignment. This went on for three days, each message with the same requirement: never be seen by anyone but the person in need of the message. On the fourth day the man had offered him 100 gold pieces to deliver a final message. This task too had an odd stipulation but who was he to ask questions? If the stranger wanted a message to be delivered in the dead of night to a nobles house who was he to complain?
The sun was setting now as he made his way through the assortment of buildings. The palace could be seen from his angel and he glanced in its direction to get his bearings in the city. The manse was not to far from here but the stranger had been very clear that he should not arrive until well past nightfall. He sat against a stray rock and waited for the sun to set beyond the horizon. He was becoming anxious and squirmed thinking about how easy it was to obtain 300 gold pieces from a nobleman. He would look into becoming a messenger for nobles only once he delivered his message.
The sun was half way down and the sky was alight with the colors of heat as the wind picked up more sand. He dusted the sand from his clothing as he stood up. He had worn his best clothing; almost the same as any other cloths but less dirty, and had cleaned his sandals for this meeting. Best not to make a bad impression upon a future employer he mused to himself. He ran his hand through his hair to remove the excess sand. He was an average looking man with black hair and eyes. The only real difference between him and 5000 other Persians was his lighter skin tone. It was still tanned from the harsh rays of the sun but for whatever reason his skin was that of a lighter color.
Sighing as the sun finally set over the hills he made his way quickly to the house. Although he enjoyed the darkness to cover him when he wanted to remain unseen he had difficulty seeing through the dark ink that was night. The faster he delivered this message the faster he could return home and start his ‘noble only’ message service. He laughed to himself as he pictured himself a noble from the profits of running their messages. The sand stone manse came into his view. The building was a small walk outside the bounders of the city but was close enough to still be considered a part of the main city.
A tall slender man of average appearance blocked the front door, his sleepy gaze an indication he had been standing there from some time. When he finally approached the man eyed him.
“State you business.” He said in a light, almost threatening voice. Not to be detoured from his goal by the front door he held his head high.
“I have a message for the master of the house.” The guard narrowed his eyes. For a moment it seemed as if he wouldn’t let him through but then he smiled. He step aside and opened the front door wide.
“He will be to the room at the right.” Brushing himself off one last time he made his way into the manse. Turning to the first door on his right he nearly jumped when the front door slammed shut. He had never been known for his physical strength, being a rather slender individual himself, so it always worried him when he thought there might be a fight. He preferred methods of ambush. He might have the skill to kill a man as long as he had a knife and the other man didn’t know it was coming.
Turning back to the door he knocked three times and waited for a response. The door slowly opened and another man led him to one of the chairs of the room. The stone chairs were positioned in such a way that four to five people could sit comfortably in a circle. A conference room he thought to himself as he took a seat near the corner.
“The master will see you shortly.” The servant then removed himself from the room. Time seemed to move slowly as he sat in his chair waiting. Just then the door to the room opened. A striking man with hard, pointed facial features entered the room. His clothes and robes were made of dark material and a cloth covered most of his face. The man took a seat opposite of him and removed the cloth from his head. The striking man glanced around the room and leaned forward in his chair. The tense way he rested in the chair and the way his eyes lingered to long in places that made no since worried him. All his life he had been very perceptive, noticing things long before and much faster then any of his peers. Now he suddenly felt like he needed those skills to find a way from the room.
The noble finally turned all of his attention, and piercing glance toward him.
“You have a message from my … associate?” The small smile on his face ran shivers down his spine. This man look battle hardened and agile, like a snake coiled and ready for the strike. He shifted in his seat a little, as if to move from being directly across from him just in case he leapt from the chair.
“He said to tell you ‘I have found the last payment for my boon’.” Almost sighing with relief that he had managed to repeat his awkward message to the noble he stood up. “I’ll be taking my gold then.”
The noble man narrowed his eyes but still held his slight smile. He stood as well and reached into the folds of his robes.
“Of course, I wouldn’t forget your payment.” The jiggle of coins could be heard from the robes as the noble man searched throughout them. He lingered when he finally found what he was looking for. “Tell me boy, what do they call you?”
Taken back by his sudden question he moved closer to the man to get his money and held his hand out. “They call me Jaffar. I’ll be taking my money now.” He gave the man a glace that he hoped would be interpreted as he meant business but it felt more like he gave the guy an approving glance.
“Jaffar. Your skills have impressed my associate and I have excellent news to inform you.” The man didn’t take his hand out of his robes and just stood at arms length away from Jaffar. “You have been chosen to become one of the lords of the night.” With that he lashed out, much faster then any human should be able to, and pierced his heart with the dagger he had concealed in his robes. Jaffar merely stumbled back from the force and landed back in his chair. To stunned to say anything he watched as his blood pumped from his chest and covered his clothing.
The noble man stepped forward and knelt next to him. “Soon the embrace will take place. Have no fear for a better life awaits you as long as you do not disappoint me or shame Haqim.” He whispered soothing words as the blood continued to pump uncontrolled onto the floor. Jaffar’s body twitched slightly as he felt his muscles burn down to his legs and the air trap itself in his lungs. His hand grouped at the chest wound to prevent the bleeding but his efforts were in vein. The darkness at the edges of his eyes was seeping into his vision and head felt light and fuzzy.
The last thing Jaffar could remember as the darkness took his sight was the man cutting his wrist and letting the blood run past his lips and down his throat.