01: Bendor

A thief stole into the courtyard. Silent. Invisible. Professional. Long were the days of his training. Lavish were the hours he spent in planning. Endless were the years that he had awaited this moment. To join the Ar Dakar. A dream among thieves.
Deathly quiet, dropping low beneath the concrete wall, taken by the lack of security orbiting the fortress, he signaled his partner. That partner, the superior. The one he had leapt from up high on that wall to protect. Yanis Dukun.
Dropping quickly and with vague presence, Dukun slipped down the wall. A noiseless spider pouncing on unsuspecting prey. The moist grass pressing up against his gloved palms cushioned his landing, muffled it. He scuttled over to the criminal, Davice Hayle, his accomplice, and touched that young man on the arm as if he needed confirmation.
The two thieves slunk through the garden. The scent of Burkles and Lozions stung their masked nostrils. A slight head movement allowed the younger to scan the courtyard. It was such a small place! A cramped and crowded forest of flowers, vines and trees. The relatively compact two-story dwelling of one in direct contact with the one, Avanar, was indeed, much smaller than Hayle had expected. The building’s balcony reached far enough to almost cover the garden, and the wide curtain-deprived windows revealed the dense, flat-like nature of the small living space below it. Additionally, a small, still spa and a Burkle choked swing gaver the scene an air of tranquility, but did nothing to impress Hayle.
Lowering himself, he brought himself to ask Dukun whether they had found the right place. One in the service of Avanar, surely…
‘Davice. Hush.’ Dukun managed to utter. His voice carried a tone of vowellessness and perfection that could’ve only been achieved with the utmost care and control. Despite making a noise, Dukun managed to sustain his apparent absence from intrusion. Hence, it was obvious to both of the thieves who had made the mistake, when the little light under the roof of the balcony flashed to life.
Burning with anxiety in his black attire, Davice Hayle felt the light hit his body, a mark of failure among those he had grown up with. Beads of sweat seeped out of his skin and soaked into his uniform. Desperate to remain hidden, both criminals froze, two statues in the dark.
‘I suspect that you’ve come to see me?’ a voice said. The voice was of neither Hayle nor Dukun. They were seen. But all was not lost!
Yanis Dukun snapped out of his pose, raised his head from the ground. In his efforts, or rather, Hayle’s, the company of a third man had gone unnoticed. In the revelation the light delivered, though, it became evident that this man had been reclining on a small levichair next to the spa. Hayle now noticed him also, and the thieves scurried to their feet.
‘Hmm?’ the man implied impatiently, as if he had somewhere else to be.
Dukun held a finger out in front of Hayle, silencing him, and folded his arms. His actions did not hide his nerves. Dukun then scanned the reclined, vulnerable man. It did not take long for Dukun to realise two things: that Hayle was not dull enough to misinterpret the scenario before allowing his master to enter it, which meant that this man had entered the courtyard while they were already in it, and that this man they were now faced with must consequentially be a mighty Ar Dakar, of much more skill than even he: Dukun the silent.
The man did not look like what Dukun had expected, though. He was a large, well built man. His features were blunt and bulky. But he had a calmness and wittiness about him that gave him a look of superiority. This disturbed the thief.
‘You are Bendor?’ Dukun asked, veiling the nervousness in his voice. Hayle couldn’t help but tremble. This man has communicated one-on-one with Avanar Dakar!
‘I am Bendor.’ The man said. ‘Take off your masks, Yanis Dukun and Davice Hayle.’