'Discipline.'
The voice of my mentor filled the room with its emptiness, caressing the absence of sound into form. Or perhaps I only imagined it emanating from the cavorting shadows.
The trappings of incalculable power lay almost carelessly strewn about room. Jewels, scepters, weapons of war, and parchments that might topple cities with a quill stroke. Secure in their midst, the satrap slept. Beyond the sealed double doors of steel-banded ivory, the satrap's mountain fortress stood, inviolable, eternal. His eunuch soldiers kept silent vigil, or diced their wages away as the case may be, blissfully unaware of the solitary form looming over their master. For after all, no one could scale the sheer cliffs plummeting far below the well joined walls, nor traverse the narrow path unseen by the sentries' vigilance, nor bypass the mighty enchantments worked in the very stone itself. Yet I had. with only darkness and shadows for my tools, no, my living allies.
My form was lean and wiry, held taught as a bow string. Clad only in A black silk loincloth, my Fists slowly clenched and unclenched over the satrap's neck in time with his rising and falling breast . In place of clothes, the shadows themselves cloaked me, sustained me. They had delivered me here with a singular purpose.
I choked back the bitter taste of hatred. So much arrogance, so much injustice might end at this moment, if I only struck now. No, I had come too far to succumb now. I steeled myself with the mantra I'd written as a boy, "My mind shall be unsheathed, by vengeance thrice denied. A blade on me bequeathed, it's umbral form espied. My mind shall be unsheathed, by vengeance thrice denied. A blade on me bequeathed, it's umbral form espied..."
I quenched the fire of my anger in darkness as I softly droned on. I nearly started as my hands closed on something cold, something dark. A haft. I smiled a wicked smile. My blade at last. A twilight reckoning would come. But not tonight.
I turned and padded silently away on bare feet, enjoying the heft of my negative blade, a shard of deadly Shadow focused by my will. As an afterthought I turned,seeking a reminder of my victory. I cared nothing for his wealth. But around his neck, a simple iron key drew my eye. I slid my blade gently beneath its chain, severing it neatly and hastily tucking it in my wrap. It fit nothing in the room.
As I slid towards the darkened corner, I causally struck an ornate gong I passed with my blade. A discordant clash of steel rang forth far out of proportion of the strength of my strike. His strangled howls for the guards was sweet music to my ear as I melted into the Shadow and was gone.