#riftjumping

The streets of Zaphias were quiet. In the dark of night, the familiar sounds of chatter and footsteps were eerily absent. If one had been paying attention, they would have heard the quiet chant of a spell, and a muttered finish of "Stealth".

His shoes, unlike the familiar patter, were silent as he crept toward the castle. His hands were silent as he pulled open a window, and his voice was silent as he looked upon his... assistant. It was the least painful word.

It wasn't like he enjoyed this part. He didn't enjoy the tense silence that filled the air as he lifted the large box from his back. He didn't enjoy the careful precision he had to engage in as he restrained them and muffled them for the cries he knew would come. And he especially didn't enjoy the caution he had to exercise as he loaded them into his container and sealed it shut. He was grateful that he had remembered to leave a way to breathe, and that he kept travel time to a minimum.

But to make an omelette, you have to break a few eggs. And to get anything done, you have to do the icky work.

The sun had just begun to poke its head over the horizon when he reached his destination. He lingered a moment, allowing himself to admire the shimmer in the air before turning to the task at hand. His expression was one of embarrassment and worry as he once again set down his box. As he fumbled for the latch, he listened carefully for anything that hinted that they were awake.

Please, don't let her be awake.