I’m not sure why I’m writing this story down at all. Maybe when I die, and we all die sooner or later, I want someone to know how I became who I am.
I don’t enjoy reliving the past……so, let’s be done with this quickly.
“Mom! Dad!” I scream as the figures drag them away in ropes. My small 7 year old’s body was being held back by large adult’s
hands. Tears streamed down my face, as the person lifted me, tied me with rough, itchy ropes, and took me along with them. I
heard my parents sob and beg for them to spare me. The thieves took us to the river. Their eyes were full of greed, and
held no sorrow or pity. We were dragged to the river. The cobblestone road was cracked, and loose stones made dust rise up.
I coughed as the dust flew in my face. My mother sobbed, her long black hair sticking to her face, and my father’s curses
rang loud, his short black hair stuck together with sweat.
“No, not our son!” My mother cried, and was shoved into a cage that was floating in the water. Her blue eyes showed
fear, and sadness. My father was thrown into another. His grey eyes held rage, and sorrow.
“Mom! Dad!” I cried, struggling against the man holding me back. Their eyes showed no pity behind the blank masks. They began
to tie large stones to the cages. Two large men held the cages up.
“The money, this is what happens when you don’t pay taxes on our plane.” A man said, and the men released the cages. My mother’s cries,
and my father’s curses haunt me. The cages drifted to the very bottom, small bubbles trailing after them.
“Mom! Dad! No!” I screamed,struggling against the man holding me back. He let me go. I stumbled over to the water of the river.
I couldn’t see anything in the murky depths. It smelt of sewage. I felt sick, and scared. I heard a sword being drawn from it’s
sheath. I looked at the sound’s direction, wide eyed. I tried to scramble away, but a short, stocky man caught me. A tall,
broad man swung the sword at me. I screamed a short, quiet curse, then closed my eyes, expecting pain to come shortly after.
I heard the clatter of metal on stone, and felt the hands holding me slacken. I pushed the man away, and my hands came away
bloodied by his blood. An arrow was in his throat. A knife was in the man wielding the sword’s back. I ran, being pushed
around by the panicking thieves. I rushed to the man’s body with the knife in it, took the knife, and cut the ropes
binding my hands together. Another man came at me with a dagger. I quickly threw the knife at him, hoping it’ll hit. I must’ve
had the devil’s luck back then, because it hit.
Something’s seemed a blur. Death rained from the skies in the form of arrows. Soon I was surrounded by bodies. I saw dark
figures in the trees for a brief second, then nothing. Silence filled the air. A hand grabbed my shoulder. My first reaction
was to stab backwards, but it was blocked, and the knife I’d scavenged was lost. I then looked behind. There was a man, a
black mask on his face, and his clothes were mottled black and grey. The trousers were tight, but seemed easy to move in. He
had a black and grey tunic on and a cowled cloak, and a pair of black gloves. I looked at him in shock.
“T-thank you s-sir.” I managed to get out. He crouched down beside me. I think I was in shock still.
“Child, would you like to live with my family now? I made a promise to your mother and father a few years ago, that if anything happens I’d take you in.” He said quietly. His voice was quite low. I looked at him.
“I-I would.” I answered. What would’ve happened if I didn’t accept? What would I be like now? I ask myself the sometimes.
Training was arduous, mentally and physically. I’d spend long, cold dark nights scouting. I’d memorize every countries
geographical feature. I’d be given an easy kill assignment, and had to be done within a time limit. I’d memorize every
poisonous plant and every poison’s effect. Stealth missions were the easiest. During that period of time, I don’t think I held
much of a conversation. To be told, the foresty mountains I trained in were alway so quiet. It felt like making even the
slightest noise would have a horrific outcome. To tell the truth, not everyone that went there ever come to the guild. They either died or came out alive.
I heard my name being called. I sit up straight on my bed. My musings always take me far away from the time present. My
room was simple. Stone floors, stone walls, two beds, one for me and one for my roommate, a chair and a table, and the only
reason I’d be having a roommate was from a recent collapse in the northern tunnels where a couple rooms where. I happened
to be unlucky and was given a roommate. It was always cool, but I never really complained. We were underground after all.
“Somar, can I come in? Or do you have someone else in there.” The voice said again. I rolled my eyes, and recognized it as
my roommate, Vincent.
“Yes, you can come in.” I said, combing a hand through my black hair. His head of red hair peeped into the room,
then he walked in. Vincent was stocky, but he was also quite tall. I was lean, and slightly muscular. We were quite opposite.
His brown eyes looked the room over.
“You have a target. Father wanted me to give you this. It’s just some information.” He said, plopping down beside me, and
handing me an an envelope. I opened it and quickly read it over.
Kill Duke Kelmford. The client hiring you is Lady Ames, report to her at sunrise in Birch Song Garden. Duke Kelmford should
be in the area currently.
I went over to the table, grabbed the candle, and lit the paper on fire.
“Well, see you around.” Vincent said. I put on my cloak and mask, and nodded. Tonight Duke Kelmford will die.
I opened the door to the guild, and slipped out. I grabbed one if the horses that grazed in a fenced
in area around a pond, and sent it on a gallop to the city. It panted heavily, and I could smell the
musty scent of sweat and fur. After 12 years of training, I’d improved on stamina, strength, vision
and hearing from when I was seven. I was nineteen then. I could make out a steeple tower of the
town. I rode the horse along a dusty path for around ten more minutes. When I’d reached the
bright lantern lit streets of the town, I tied the reins to a tree that was just in the shadows of the
forest. The horse snorted, and began to graze. I rolled my eyes, and brought the cowl of my cloak
over my head. I looked around, my excellent vision picking out where the rich made their homes, and where the not so
fortunate stayed. I climbed up the tree, and leapt onto a roof. I hit it hard and rolled to prevent any damage. The roofs
weren’t as bright as the streets, in fact I doubt anyone could see me at all. I leapt from rooftop to rooftop. I eventually
reached a church roof, slightly tilted. I leapt on, and slipped slightly. I could hear the footsteps of the town’s guard patrolling
the streets. I quickly gripped the ends of the roof, then pulled myself up. Being on this plane meant that even I had to
obey the laws of gravity, though gravity is more myth than fact now.
I walked silently to the very tip of the roof, and looked around. My ears pricked for any noise, my eyes focused for any
person out at this unholy hour.
“Oh, Duke Kelmford you are such a gent.” A voice giggled, a high pitched laugh that hurt my sensitive hearing. I grimaced.
“Ah, Sylves you are such a beauty.” A man, who I assumed was my target flirted.
“Ah, but what would Duchess Kelmford think?” The woman mocked. I heard a low chuckle.
“Ah, Sylves my dear, she’ll never find out.” The target chuckled. I looked down, and saw a tall man arm in arm with a young
woman. I followed them closely. The target opened a door to a large estate, and held it open for the woman. She giggled and
walked in. I followed them inside. The interior was large. It had many statues, pillars, fountains, and many other kinds of
furnishing, perfect. Many candles, and lanterns were lit, casting large shadows off the furnishing. That’s the cause for many
targets downfall. They have too many large furnishings, and many lights. This causes many pockets of darkness, and many
hiding places. Not to brag, but us Fetchlings are the masters of stealth, so it’s rather difficult to spot us until its too late. I heard
the pair walk up the stairs.
“But where are the servants?” The woman asked, leaning her head against his shoulder. My target chuckled.
“I allowed them the night off dearest.” He answered. I leaned against the wall beside the staircase. A statue had made a large
blotch of darkness there. I was quiet snug there.
“oh how kind of you.” She said adoringly. This was sickening. I spun my dagger in one hand, watching them climb the
staircase. When they’d reached the top and turned the corner, I silently ran up the stairs, and to the hiding spot provided by a
small couch. When they’d passed through a door to a bedroom, I found it best to go outside and climb through the window. I
waited for the noises to stop, and the snoring to start. They definitely had wine, I could smell it. The door opened, and I saw
the woman slip out. I opened the window, and climbed in. The target reached over to the other side of the bed.
“Sylves you there?” He mumbled. I chose this time to act. I unsheathed my dagger, just as his eyes began to adjust to the low
-Duke’s pov- I looked at the face I thought was Sylves’s. It had similar eyes, but held a sharp intelligence and coldness in it’s steely blue depths. A dagger came down at my throat before I could scream. Something warm ran down my neck before a darkness, much more frightening than the darkness of sleep took over.
THE FOLLOWING DAY
-Lady Ames Pov- I sat on a bench in front of a swan pond in Birch Song Garden. The day was warm, and so was my dark blue dress, so I began to fan myself with a folding fan. A dark figure stepped out of the shadow of a tall willow tree. It seemed to be almost morphed with the shadow, and it shocked me. The dark figure sat beside me, a leg crossed over another. It was the assassin I’d hired.
“You must be Lady Ames.” He said, his voice quiet and muffled slightly by the mask. I could only see two steely blue eyes, looking at me.
" You must be the assassin." I said politely. He gave a calculating look. “I am.” He said quietly. A warm wind began, and blew the petals of some red roses loose. They scattered on the ground like blood drops.
“Why do you hide your face?” I asked inquisitively. He was quiet for a long time. His eyes had become distant, glazed over. I wonder what he was thinking.
“In this world, you can never truly trust someone.” Was his reply. His eyes had become sharp and calculating again. I pulled a large bag out of my hand bag. It was full of gold.
“Here’s your payment.” I said, handing him the bag. His gloved hand took it, and opened it. His eyes looked it over, then he closed it, and pocketed it. His eyes stared directly into mine.
“You remind me of someone.” He said quietly, his eyes soft, distant and sad, but was replaced with a bitter look. He got up, and removed his mask.
“I’ve been told to show my face more frequently to prove the rumors wrong. Guess I’d better get started.” He said looking at me with a cold smile. His face was something that shocked me. I’ve heard rumors of their faces being scared, mutilated, and deformed. The Fetchling’s face was normal, handsome even. He had sharp features, sharp down turned eyes, thin lips that curled up into a small smirk, and dark straight long hair, that nearly covered his eyes.
“Hmmm, and yes, we don’t sell our souls to demons or do dark magic.” He said, and put the mask back on. His eyes were sharp and calculating.
“Speak of this to anyone, and you’ll be the next target. Understand?” He said coldly, and his dagger was in his hand, being spun. I gulped.
“Y-yes.” I stammered, and got up,eyeing the dagger. He nodded, and disappeared into the shadow of the willow again,but as he walked past I could barely make out his shape.
Later that day back at the guild.
That woman reminded me of this girl from training. She’s dead now though. I stare at the rocky ceiling of my room, spinning my dagger. Day time reveals what’s hidden. It’s not my time to work.