In the dark of the night Rane was resting on the entrance stairs of the Malkarian chateau when his target, a plump statesman by the name of Archibald Beaumont, leisurely walked right past him.
Beaumont was wearing an embellished long coat and a top hat, in an unsuccessful attempt to hide his rotund shapes and his horridly receding hairline. At his side was a younger woman, covered in lavish jewelry and loudly laughing at his jokes. She was laughing in the way that people do when they clearly want something from you. In this case, money.
They were headed home from the summer ball exclusive to the city's officials, noblemen and other 'important' people, which was usually just a cover for them to conduct their shady business deals or at the very least set up a meeting for them to be made.
Rane knew this because he once had the privilege to see one up close. Of course he hadn't actually been invited. No, he'd snuck in playing the part of an out of town lower class nobleman.
That particular job had required him to procure an invitation, a fitting set of attire and researching a suitable nobleman whose identity he could borrow for the night. Someone the city people had definitely heard of, but no one had met. Someone who was unlikely to show up at the party themselves. It had been a lot of work.
This job proved to be much simpler. He didn't need much preparation to play a homeless person wasting away on the street, he had plenty of practice with that.
His target this time was the Minister of finance. He had been leaking the city's financial records to the neighboring nation for a hefty monthly paycheck and had grown complacent in his wealth. He would be ripe for plucking.
Both of them seemed to have enjoyed a few too many wine glasses, the woman struggling to keep her balance in her strappy heels, and the man barely being able to form words. Of course, a man of his stature wasn't expected to walk it off. No, he had an ostentatious looking carriage waiting for him around the corner a few minutes down the road. And lucky for him.
He did not strike Rane as a man who partook in strenuous exercise, nor any form of exertion really, he'd probably fail to outrun a toddler. He would've undoubtedly had his carriage parked right outside the door if he could. But in an unfortunate development for him, and quite fortunate for Rane, a mob of people were demonstrating at the Ballhouse and the minister was one of their primary targets too.
All of this left Rane with the perfect window of opportunity to accomplish his mission.
He stood up to follow the couple, but the narrow and winding pathways made it difficult. He needed to get a better view. He noticed a few crates stacked up against a nearby building and quickly scaled them, launching himself off the top one and into the air, landing on the roof with a roll. Now where had they gone? He dashed across the rooftops looking for his target and found them taking a little rest further up. Beaumont was puking his guts out, and the woman was comforting him while holding his hat. Thank god for alcohol, Rane thought to himself and kneeled down onto the tiles, assessing the situation further.
They were closing in on their ride. The only thing standing between them and the comfort of their beds was a couple of paces and one last turn of a corner. And me of course, Rane thought. That building up ahead was casting a mean shadow on the street below. A shadow so large that it also hit the roof of the nearby building. That would be his chance. He just needed to be ready. He rushed ahead to the spot.
Beaumont had finished his business, put his hat back on and continued moving, his date holding his arms to help stabilize him. Still, they were moving very slowly.
"Come on, you fat bastard," Rane whispered to himself, getting impatient.
The young woman was dragging Beaumont along, almost carrying him at this point. Rane was impressed with the young woman, that did not look easy.
"You're almost there. You can do it." he whispered again.
As the soles of their shoes finally touched the shadow cast by the last building on the street. Rane slammed his palm onto the tiles, concentrating. The shadow slowly went from an intangible trick of light, to a gooey liquid that was bubbling profusely. He tapped the liquid twice with his index finger and vanished completely. Like he had been eaten by the shadow itself.
Not even a second later, the shadow under Beaumont began to bubble. He noticed, and looked at it completely befuddled and a little entranced. Then a hand came out of it, followed by the top half of a face. And even though you couldn't see his mouth, it was clear to Beaumont that Rane was smiling.
"What the f-..." Beaumont said.
But before he could add a single word, Rane pulled Beaumont into the darkness. His void. Leaving no trace of him behind, except for a shouting and confused young woman.