Depths of Ambition

The sudden noise just off in the distance caught my attention immediately. Within seconds, my adrenaline was pumping and my legs were moving in the direction of the sound that shouldnt be there. After all, I knew this house better than just about any other place in Volantis. This was the house that I was raised in, that Id shared with only my mother for over twenty years of my life. I knew every creak and groan the old wooden structure could possibly make, having learned the hard way when I tried to move around without notice. For example, I knew that the fourth stair on the staircase that led to the bedrooms groaned when weight was put on it. Id forgotten about it one time when I stayed out just a little too late with my friends and tried to sneak home. My mother busted me, and I never forgot about that single noisy stair, knowing to avoid it if I didnt want to get caught again. How simple my problems used to be. The noise that caught my attention wasnt from inside the house but outside. Something that sounded vaguely like metal on metal. I was determined to meet it with a little metal of my own, drawing my swords as I barreled out the door to our backyard, expecting to find the only person in Aspatria that truly wanted me dead.

AS FAR AS CEMETERIES WENT, this one was remarkably ordinary. It was just a small plot of land, marked with no more than ten tombstones. Vines and thick weeds overtook more than half of them, making it difficult to read the names on the stones. Even the gate into the cemetery was rusty, creaking in the wind as I made my way inside. Ominous was the right word to describe the family plot of the Vann family, and it counted double when I stood in front of the newly-tilled earth of the latest tombstone. This is it right here, said the caretaker, a kindly man of about fifty years or so. I just put it in three days ago. Of course, theres no body. Not unusual for divers as you might figure. But the Vanns have always had money and theyre respectful of their dead, so they put up a nice tombstone. I raised an eyebrow. Respectful enough to let the weeds overtake half the cemetery? The caretaker managed to look embarrassed. You might find this hard to believe, but they prefer it that way. Ive offered many times to clear out the cemetery, but they like it to have a more . . . rustic look. I dont know if the word I would use is rustic, said Mira, who was standing right next to me. The lovely brunette was wearing a gray dress that clung to her curves. Her loose hair danced with the soft breeze. I think abandoned fits better.