We got talking and formed a small swim club, just a few older men who liked to stay fit. One of them always brought his grandson with him and the boy...always ended up in the changing room after we swam. I was usually the last out of the room and one day, I saw that the boy was still hanging around when everyone else had left.I had noticed in the past, he seemed quite interested in watching us change, especially when we were toweling off. I started to watch him and the others after that and I. I stalked to the back of the tent. The warleader was the true danger. The naga trained them brutally, teaching them how to fight, how to give pain, and how to endure it. Some even learned dread arts, magics that manipulated shadows. My heart beat faster as I pressed my knife against the tent’s canvas while listening.Snoring. Deep and rumbling. The warleader slept.Perfect.The dagger’s sharp tip pierced the canvas with a rasping whisper. With patience, I cut down, working through the thick cloth.. More

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