When I say "random" in that there title, I mean it. Through the 30 minute writing process undertaken here I have some vague idea of where this story has come from, unfortunately given that its 7am and the spectres of exhaustion are laying siege to my already rather run down endurance I've no idea where its going. Well that is actually a lie, I know exactly where its going and why its going there, I just can't be bothered to write any more than the 3000 or so words below given previously explained reasons.
Before you begin, a few points. No this has not been spell checked, thoroughly at least, and yes the switch perspectives thing is odd. I couldn't properly explain everything that happened throughout the story, all of which takes place in one small dark, damp and probably bad odoured room. So I decided to experiment with something I've never seen done, and I've never done before. All hail the ingenuity of the frazzled mind.
I've also gone about the tedious three minute process of removing most of the... eh... well the rape bit. Insert the possibility of it where you please but don't, this isn't a request from me its a prerequisite of my giving a damn about what you say, base any judgement upon its possibility. Its there, get over it. I removed it so this wouldn't become a complete Farce. I suppose the one final point is this, if you do read all of it I hope you enjoy some Cake afterwards as you've travelled far and made your home upon a strange and twisted planet called my mind. Pray that the Lizardmen don't eat you.
In retrospect I actually feel... afraid of how terrible this is. Do your worst peanut gallery! *casts Sleep on himself*
Untitled(Was going to call it "Strange things happen at 6am" but I realised I was bouncing it off the fourth wall with the equivalent force of a Nuke doing so. Also "Untitled" gives it a more cLassic feel.)
Allison was young for her position; at the age of 17 she was almost a fully accomplished member of the Assassin's Guild. The Assassin's Guild being one of the branches of the Goddess Rascha's church. She had worked hard for her position, and being part Sagnir any position was an achievement. After a rapid ascension through the ranks she now stood poised to make her first kill, a rite of initiation into the highest level in the Assassin's Guild.
This kill would be in many ways unique, as not only would it be her first for the Guild but it would also be done on a very specific manner. A sacrifice. One thing puzzled her now, why this man. She had watched him for several days and one thing about him stood out; he was just a simple mercenary. And from the way he spoke, and acted, he was from some extremely backwater planet. All of the above caused her great concern, as normally the Initiation Kill was someone important. There was something about him she was missing but she couldn't place it.
Either way she might ask him before she killed him, as right now she was on the ceiling above him. As she slid gracefully down not making a sound something odd happened, he opened his eyes and looked right at her. They stayed that way for what seemed like an age as thousands of questions ran through her head. Had he seen her when he came in, if so how? He gave no reaction and even if she were not invisible it wouldn't matter as she was concealed in the almost complete darkness of the room. Was he more than he seemed? Was this test made more difficult deliberately? Had he seen her before when she was studying him?
Suddenly he spoke.
"Are you going to stay there all night?"
A sudden spark of anger ran through her, she hated when people spoke to her condescendingly.
"Your not very good at what you do."
He stood up, as with the last few nights he had never used the bed. Always just sitting on the floor. As he began to move away she pounced and with almost inhuman speed he spun around gripped her extended arms. Using the motion of her attack he swung her straight into a dresser almost breaking it in two.
She quickly rolled away from the dresser and stood just in front of the door. She paused for a moment and then leapt forward hitting him full on in the chest and driving him to the ground. She drew her sword and stabbed downward. Again those lightning reflexes saved him, as in one smooth motion he diverted her blade and threw her off him. By the time she was back on her feet, he was attacking her viciously. With both fists and feet. She blocked each of his blows smoothly, countered, was blocked in turn, blocked another attack, countered and was blocked again. She stopped stunned for a moment; this man was using the exact same attack and defence forms as the Guild. The members of the Guild who were trained in this fighting form were exclusively female.
That moments pause cost her a great deal. As in a flowing series of strikes he drove her to the wall, and pressed a dagger to her throat. She stopped moving accepting the inevitable, but he didn't kill her. For some reason he stepped back.
Well, she thought, it is going to be his death after all. In a single lightning move she drove him back, with a blow to the head caused him to stumble backwards and slashed at him with her sword. Continuing the move she rolled forward and stopped just before the wall. Thank Rascha the room was large.
Turning around her smile of victory was quickly replaced with shock; he was standing again. Her eyes widened considerably, how had he managed to survive? Then she saw the slight tear to his clothing, so he had managed to anticipate the move and reacted with the appropriate counter move. Well at least he isn't a magician.
Just as that thought crossed her mind she suddenly lost all control of her arms and legs, falling to the ground like a pillar. The man walked over and yanked her blade from her now limp hand. He studied it in the dim light of predawn that now shone through the window.
"This is impressive, but not as good as the one I have."
He pulled a sword from a sheath on his back, and she was stunned by the resemblance. She was also stunned that she missed it, after studying him for several days she should have noticed that. She looked at him with a mix of loathing and anger as he compared the two blades.
"Indeed mine is superior, so who are you exactly?"
Her look of anger and loathing changed to a look of amusement, as if he didn't recognize her from both the garb and the blade. As he continued looking at her questioningly her amusement changed to pity, he was definitely from a backwater planet.
"That is none of your business, either kill me or let me kill you."
"I am not in the business of killing everyone I meet, excluding those who are trying to kill me."
"Then why am I still alive?"
"Because you interest me. And your interest in me also interests me."
He crouched down...
...Paxen studied his would assassin. He had been expecting her for several days; clearly she thought she was a great deal better than she actually was. Both her following of him and her attempt to kill him were sloppy and over-confident. But she did know how to fight. He pulled off her black mask that totally covered her head.
She was a good deal younger that he had previously assumed, with fair blonde hair that had streaks of faded black. It was cut short and tussled by the removal of the mask. Her skin was also fair, at least compared to Paxen's. She had thin eyebrows and strange cat-like eyes that were blue in colour. She was of average height, probably measuring five feet and eleven inches. Which was taller than him. She was lithe and fit.
He could see that his answer confused her.
"I will be straight with you, up until about a year ago I have almost no memory... and what memories I have are jumbled and I think are mostly fantasies on my part. So I wonder, who would want me dead?"
"Is that story supposed to make me in any way sympathetic to you? Because if it is you have failed miserably. And so you know, I am a member of the Assassin's Guild and a Priestess of Rascha."
Now it was his turn to be confused, a priestess assassin?
"Hang on, you are a priestess? But also an assassin?"
"Is there something wrong with you beyond your supposed memory loss, that is what I said you slow witted bumpkin."
Her insult brought a smile to his face.
"So what? Your a priestess during the day, assassin at night?"
She fixed him with a look that you would use when studying a particularly disgusting insect.
"The Assassin's Guild is a branch of the Temple of Rascha, the Goddess of Death, Vengeance and Torture."
"Well that?s a nice combination...."
She spat at him.
"BLASPHEMER! KILL ME OR RELEASE ME BUT DO NOT INSULT THE...."
She was cut off as Paxen clamped his hand over her mouth to silence her, as she was shouting fairly loudly.
"Now quiet down or..."
He was in turn cut of as she bit down on his hand hard and he jumped back in surprise. He examined his hand, the wound was deep but no flesh had come away with the bite. Looking back at her he saw a trickle of blood running down her cheek.
"That was not nice. Not nice at all."
He said this as he wrapped some bandage he had taken from his pack over the wound. Closing his hand into a fist he found that it was painful but fortunately not that hard.
"I do not care, just kill me or let me kill you!"
"Now why would you want to kill me?"
"Because it is what I was told to do."
"Do you know why?"
"No I am not told until the job is done, a person of my rank is not privileged to such information."
"And what rank would that be?"
"I am... why am I ANSWERING YOUR QUESTIONS?" she started shouting again.
"THANKS TO YOU IT WON'T MATTER AS TO FAIL THE INTIATION KILL IS TO EITHER DIE IN THE ATTEMPT OR BE KILLED BY THE OTHERS"
This time he gagged her. As she flopped around on the ground shouting pointlessly into her gag Paxen returned to where he had been when this all started, sitting on the floor.
"Now if you don't mind I am going to rest for an hour or so until daybreak, we can resume our chat then. Maybe you will be more co-operative"
Going by the look in her eyes and her increased flopping she did not like the idea at all. Paxen closed his eyes and entered a regenerative trance...
... Allison continued flopping for a moment before releasing she wasn't going anywhere, and that her target no longer cared, as he seemed to be asleep. Closing her eyes she cast her mind back hoping to see where she had failed. She hadn't even picked up his name, as this thought struck her she realised how naive she had been about the whole process. All she saw was the surface and that?s all she had searched for.
Maybe had she looked deeper, maybe if she had paid more attention to her training and not her ego she would not be in this mess. What am I thinking!, even her mentors had been secretly jealous of her. She was Allison Edge, the perfectionist. If only most of them knew, she had gone through a great deal to get to this point. It had been her ambition to get to this point in her training, and past it before her eighteenth birthday. She had endured then mockery of her peers and the distain of a good deal of her mentors.
It was her heritage that set her apart, those obvious uncoverable signs that was her hair and her eyes. It was odd, beyond the streaked hair and the cat-like eyes she was human in overall appearance. Strangely enough she flaunted both with a certain pride. Not only was she almost unique but it also kept away most of the others, ensuring that she never had any friends that might learn her secret.
She was Sagnir on her fathers side, a fallen race some said. A people whose very existence was an affront to the Gods, and who could blame them. The Sagnir were the descendants of the Pillagers of Esir, the people that had brought about years of terror and darkness. Even now most of them had the uncontrollable urge to do mad and horrendous deeds, steal and cheat all the time. They were a race that embodied everything that was wrong about.... everything.
Her mother was just a box standard human, with no special heritage at all. About seven Sagnir men cornered her, and the rest was pretty straightforward. The men were not the worst however; it was the women that really made things bad. Afterward she was taken into a camp, if she showed signs of pregnancy she would be worked to the bone. When the child came it would be killed in a less than merciful way. If not she would be throw in among the boys who were coming of age so they could sate their thirst, afterward she would be killed by the eldest girls so that they could understand their sacred duty to their people.
Somehow her mother had escaped, she met a kind farmer who took her in and eventually came to love her. It was because of this love that Allison's life was hell; he turned a blind eye as her mother repeatedly beat her in her uncontrollable rages. She would be starved often for days on end. Then let out of the Hole, as the dirty and damp cellar under the farmhouse was called, only to find she would have to fend for herself. She would go to the city, and almost instantly recognised for what she was. Even there she would have to work hard not to get on the wrong side of some drunk out for a bit of fun, most people thought she was only getting what she deserved and those that didn't just looked the other way.
It was during one of these starvations that her mother left, and then her father came and near beat her to death. Afterward she managed to get some respite. Her father seemed not to care much as long as she kept out of sight. She was getting ready to run away when things took a turn for the worst; her father took a shining to her in a non-fatherly way. She knew what was going on, she was hardly some sheltered fool. She tried to fight but that only made it worse, she finally snapped when her father came home drunk and in a particularly aroused state. He was not alone.
She could hear him downstairs bragging about what they could do to the 'half-breed'. When he came upstairs she was waiting, she killed him in one blow. The others heard his shouts of agony and rushed up the stairs, one by one they were all killed. By ten she already had seven deaths on her hands, it was then that she had a vision. Or what she thought was a vision. It told her nothing more than the fact that she had a mission, and that mission started at a Temple of Rascha.
She went to the nearest Temple, a journey that took almost a year, and they administered the Test to decide which way she would serve the Goddess or if she would at all. The Test was of a magical nature and she thought she may be turned away right there and then. However when they told her to wait as they deliberated, Allison knew what the answer would be. Even though they were aware of her heritage, a Temple could never turn away anyone who passed the Test. But they could easily be discharged later if they were not up to expectations. But she outperformed everyone.
She was almost always given the hardest tasks, the most difficult assignments but she always passed with flying colours. By fourteen she had managed to make some allies, mostly among the Mentors however. She had learned to watch for those that displayed a tendency to give her a modicum of respect or admiration. She had also learned that among the Sister's of Rascha there were few secrets, but those that were there could be exploited. She found out which mentors had desires for other women. While it was hardly a total secret she made herself available, and in turn gleaned favours from them. Others had darker secrets, and she exploited them at every turn.
Her sixth year with the Sister's was the hardest. As by some fluke another student discovered her past, and it was necessary for a potential member of the Guild to be pure. No killing before admission. The test was supposed to detect it, but she had passed. And she was so close to achieving her dream, so she did what had to be done. She killed the student in question and then covered it up by implicating one of her rivals among the other students. It almost didn't work, only a great deal of stealth and skill on her part got her through the year.
Now here she was lying on the floor unable to move with her target just a few feet away. All that she had done was in vain, her mother would be laughing in glee. She opened her eyes to find another pair less than an inch away, by reflex she kicked out. And amazingly got her target right in groin...
... Paxen rolled away and quickly leapt up.
"Whoa, whoa lets just both sit down and talk."
The assassin was now glaring at him. He sat down on a small stool. She continued glaring for a moment then sat on the bed.
"Now can we talk without the shouting?"
"Yes, but I still fail to see why we should talk at all."
"That remains to be seen, let?s start by introducing ourselves. My name is Paxen Shadow, and beyond that I have almost no idea who or what I am."
"Shadow? That must get an enthusiastic response from certain people."
"Enthusiastic is one way to describe it."
"My name is Allison Edge, and I don't feel you merit any information about me beyond that."
"Whatever floats your boat."
There were a few minutes of silence before Paxen spoke up again.
"You looked as though you were having quite the reminisce."
"If I was it would be no business of yours."
"Look I will be straight with you, I have little or no idea how things work nowadays. I need a guide of sorts. Now I realise you may not be the best choice, but I feel as though I can trust you."
"Trust me? You will be dead before midday."
"I have lasted this far."
"It would not matter anyway, for even if I were to act as your guide, I will be dead long before midday."
"The other Sister's?"
"Yes."
Paxen pulled her long dagger from his pack and tossed it to her. She caught it nimbly and quickly sheathed it. She stood a walked to the door.
"It would do you well to leave now Paxen, as skilled as you may be they will now send a master to kill you. And I doubt you will survive such an encounter."
She left without a backwards glance. Paxen was just getting ready to leave when the door crashed open, and before he could react he was tossed to the ground.
"WHAT DID YOU DO?"
She was shouting again.
"I have no idea what you?re talking about!"
"THIS!"
She shoved the pommel of her dagger in front of his face; it had changed. It was still the same design but there were now glyphs inscribed on it.
"They weren't there before."
"NO THEY WEREN'T, NOT WHAT DID YOU."
Shifting his weight swiftly he rolled her onto her back while he lay on top of her pinning her down.
"Stop shouting."
She looked as though she may have continued but instead she resumed her glaring. Her got up and offered her a hand, which she batted away. She jumped up from the floor and once again sat on the bed.
"What did you do to it?" she asked.
"Nothing, honestly."
"So you didn't put these glyphs on it? I am not stupid you know, I recognise what there glyphs are."
"What are they?"
"They are the written language of the God's, nobody has been able to read it for years."
"Really? Because I understand them."
Before he could do anything she moved across the room rested the edge of her blade along his neck.
"Then what do they say."
"Just one thing, Xiedhra."
"What does that mean, and I want a straight answer."
She pressed the blade against his neck a little bit harder.
"Seeker."
"Is that all?"
"Yes, does it mean anything to you?"
"No it doesn't, but?"
She was cut off as Paxen pressed his fingers to her lips. He mouthed for her to be silent...
... it took Allison a moment before she realised what was wrong. There was no sound to be heard bar their breathing and the steady drumming or the rain. There was a creak outside and then she was suddenly flying backwards. She landed on the bed, it took her a moment to realise that Paxen has kicked her out of the way. The reason became obvious when she spied the hole in the wall made by a crossbow bolt.
Paxen rose silently and rolled forward as a pair of sword broke through the wall right behind where he had been. She leapt off the bed just as a black-garbed figure came through the door, and with a vicious slash of her weapon killed the assailant. She heard the sound of glass smashing behind her but could not risk turning to investigate as another assailant came through the door.
The entire fight lasted about five seconds and there was very little thought involved. When Allison disposed with her adversary she turned to see Paxen still engaged with two attackers, she was about to intervene when in a single smooth slash he cut past both their guards and killed them. A sudden burning pain shot through her arm, sitting down on the bed she felt light headed. Paxen came over and examined the wound.
"Its deep, can you move your arm?"
She could, but the pain was excruciating.
"This needs to be stitched, but for now I will stop the bleeding we need to get out of here and fast."
He reached into his pack and withdrew a roll of bandages. With his knife he cut away her tunic and examined the wound again. He walked to the foot of the bed a brought up a pot of fresh water. Within seconds steam was rising from it, he tore away a piece of the bedclothes to use as a cloth and then dipped it into the water. He wiped away most of the blood around the wound.
Before you begin, a few points. No this has not been spell checked, thoroughly at least, and yes the switch perspectives thing is odd. I couldn't properly explain everything that happened throughout the story, all of which takes place in one small dark, damp and probably bad odoured room. So I decided to experiment with something I've never seen done, and I've never done before. All hail the ingenuity of the frazzled mind.
I've also gone about the tedious three minute process of removing most of the... eh... well the rape bit. Insert the possibility of it where you please but don't, this isn't a request from me its a prerequisite of my giving a damn about what you say, base any judgement upon its possibility. Its there, get over it. I removed it so this wouldn't become a complete Farce. I suppose the one final point is this, if you do read all of it I hope you enjoy some Cake afterwards as you've travelled far and made your home upon a strange and twisted planet called my mind. Pray that the Lizardmen don't eat you.
In retrospect I actually feel... afraid of how terrible this is. Do your worst peanut gallery! *casts Sleep on himself*
Untitled(Was going to call it "Strange things happen at 6am" but I realised I was bouncing it off the fourth wall with the equivalent force of a Nuke doing so. Also "Untitled" gives it a more cLassic feel.)
Allison was young for her position; at the age of 17 she was almost a fully accomplished member of the Assassin's Guild. The Assassin's Guild being one of the branches of the Goddess Rascha's church. She had worked hard for her position, and being part Sagnir any position was an achievement. After a rapid ascension through the ranks she now stood poised to make her first kill, a rite of initiation into the highest level in the Assassin's Guild.
This kill would be in many ways unique, as not only would it be her first for the Guild but it would also be done on a very specific manner. A sacrifice. One thing puzzled her now, why this man. She had watched him for several days and one thing about him stood out; he was just a simple mercenary. And from the way he spoke, and acted, he was from some extremely backwater planet. All of the above caused her great concern, as normally the Initiation Kill was someone important. There was something about him she was missing but she couldn't place it.
Either way she might ask him before she killed him, as right now she was on the ceiling above him. As she slid gracefully down not making a sound something odd happened, he opened his eyes and looked right at her. They stayed that way for what seemed like an age as thousands of questions ran through her head. Had he seen her when he came in, if so how? He gave no reaction and even if she were not invisible it wouldn't matter as she was concealed in the almost complete darkness of the room. Was he more than he seemed? Was this test made more difficult deliberately? Had he seen her before when she was studying him?
Suddenly he spoke.
"Are you going to stay there all night?"
A sudden spark of anger ran through her, she hated when people spoke to her condescendingly.
"Your not very good at what you do."
He stood up, as with the last few nights he had never used the bed. Always just sitting on the floor. As he began to move away she pounced and with almost inhuman speed he spun around gripped her extended arms. Using the motion of her attack he swung her straight into a dresser almost breaking it in two.
She quickly rolled away from the dresser and stood just in front of the door. She paused for a moment and then leapt forward hitting him full on in the chest and driving him to the ground. She drew her sword and stabbed downward. Again those lightning reflexes saved him, as in one smooth motion he diverted her blade and threw her off him. By the time she was back on her feet, he was attacking her viciously. With both fists and feet. She blocked each of his blows smoothly, countered, was blocked in turn, blocked another attack, countered and was blocked again. She stopped stunned for a moment; this man was using the exact same attack and defence forms as the Guild. The members of the Guild who were trained in this fighting form were exclusively female.
That moments pause cost her a great deal. As in a flowing series of strikes he drove her to the wall, and pressed a dagger to her throat. She stopped moving accepting the inevitable, but he didn't kill her. For some reason he stepped back.
Well, she thought, it is going to be his death after all. In a single lightning move she drove him back, with a blow to the head caused him to stumble backwards and slashed at him with her sword. Continuing the move she rolled forward and stopped just before the wall. Thank Rascha the room was large.
Turning around her smile of victory was quickly replaced with shock; he was standing again. Her eyes widened considerably, how had he managed to survive? Then she saw the slight tear to his clothing, so he had managed to anticipate the move and reacted with the appropriate counter move. Well at least he isn't a magician.
Just as that thought crossed her mind she suddenly lost all control of her arms and legs, falling to the ground like a pillar. The man walked over and yanked her blade from her now limp hand. He studied it in the dim light of predawn that now shone through the window.
"This is impressive, but not as good as the one I have."
He pulled a sword from a sheath on his back, and she was stunned by the resemblance. She was also stunned that she missed it, after studying him for several days she should have noticed that. She looked at him with a mix of loathing and anger as he compared the two blades.
"Indeed mine is superior, so who are you exactly?"
Her look of anger and loathing changed to a look of amusement, as if he didn't recognize her from both the garb and the blade. As he continued looking at her questioningly her amusement changed to pity, he was definitely from a backwater planet.
"That is none of your business, either kill me or let me kill you."
"I am not in the business of killing everyone I meet, excluding those who are trying to kill me."
"Then why am I still alive?"
"Because you interest me. And your interest in me also interests me."
He crouched down...
...Paxen studied his would assassin. He had been expecting her for several days; clearly she thought she was a great deal better than she actually was. Both her following of him and her attempt to kill him were sloppy and over-confident. But she did know how to fight. He pulled off her black mask that totally covered her head.
She was a good deal younger that he had previously assumed, with fair blonde hair that had streaks of faded black. It was cut short and tussled by the removal of the mask. Her skin was also fair, at least compared to Paxen's. She had thin eyebrows and strange cat-like eyes that were blue in colour. She was of average height, probably measuring five feet and eleven inches. Which was taller than him. She was lithe and fit.
He could see that his answer confused her.
"I will be straight with you, up until about a year ago I have almost no memory... and what memories I have are jumbled and I think are mostly fantasies on my part. So I wonder, who would want me dead?"
"Is that story supposed to make me in any way sympathetic to you? Because if it is you have failed miserably. And so you know, I am a member of the Assassin's Guild and a Priestess of Rascha."
Now it was his turn to be confused, a priestess assassin?
"Hang on, you are a priestess? But also an assassin?"
"Is there something wrong with you beyond your supposed memory loss, that is what I said you slow witted bumpkin."
Her insult brought a smile to his face.
"So what? Your a priestess during the day, assassin at night?"
She fixed him with a look that you would use when studying a particularly disgusting insect.
"The Assassin's Guild is a branch of the Temple of Rascha, the Goddess of Death, Vengeance and Torture."
"Well that?s a nice combination...."
She spat at him.
"BLASPHEMER! KILL ME OR RELEASE ME BUT DO NOT INSULT THE...."
She was cut off as Paxen clamped his hand over her mouth to silence her, as she was shouting fairly loudly.
"Now quiet down or..."
He was in turn cut of as she bit down on his hand hard and he jumped back in surprise. He examined his hand, the wound was deep but no flesh had come away with the bite. Looking back at her he saw a trickle of blood running down her cheek.
"That was not nice. Not nice at all."
He said this as he wrapped some bandage he had taken from his pack over the wound. Closing his hand into a fist he found that it was painful but fortunately not that hard.
"I do not care, just kill me or let me kill you!"
"Now why would you want to kill me?"
"Because it is what I was told to do."
"Do you know why?"
"No I am not told until the job is done, a person of my rank is not privileged to such information."
"And what rank would that be?"
"I am... why am I ANSWERING YOUR QUESTIONS?" she started shouting again.
"THANKS TO YOU IT WON'T MATTER AS TO FAIL THE INTIATION KILL IS TO EITHER DIE IN THE ATTEMPT OR BE KILLED BY THE OTHERS"
This time he gagged her. As she flopped around on the ground shouting pointlessly into her gag Paxen returned to where he had been when this all started, sitting on the floor.
"Now if you don't mind I am going to rest for an hour or so until daybreak, we can resume our chat then. Maybe you will be more co-operative"
Going by the look in her eyes and her increased flopping she did not like the idea at all. Paxen closed his eyes and entered a regenerative trance...
... Allison continued flopping for a moment before releasing she wasn't going anywhere, and that her target no longer cared, as he seemed to be asleep. Closing her eyes she cast her mind back hoping to see where she had failed. She hadn't even picked up his name, as this thought struck her she realised how naive she had been about the whole process. All she saw was the surface and that?s all she had searched for.
Maybe had she looked deeper, maybe if she had paid more attention to her training and not her ego she would not be in this mess. What am I thinking!, even her mentors had been secretly jealous of her. She was Allison Edge, the perfectionist. If only most of them knew, she had gone through a great deal to get to this point. It had been her ambition to get to this point in her training, and past it before her eighteenth birthday. She had endured then mockery of her peers and the distain of a good deal of her mentors.
It was her heritage that set her apart, those obvious uncoverable signs that was her hair and her eyes. It was odd, beyond the streaked hair and the cat-like eyes she was human in overall appearance. Strangely enough she flaunted both with a certain pride. Not only was she almost unique but it also kept away most of the others, ensuring that she never had any friends that might learn her secret.
She was Sagnir on her fathers side, a fallen race some said. A people whose very existence was an affront to the Gods, and who could blame them. The Sagnir were the descendants of the Pillagers of Esir, the people that had brought about years of terror and darkness. Even now most of them had the uncontrollable urge to do mad and horrendous deeds, steal and cheat all the time. They were a race that embodied everything that was wrong about.... everything.
Her mother was just a box standard human, with no special heritage at all. About seven Sagnir men cornered her, and the rest was pretty straightforward. The men were not the worst however; it was the women that really made things bad. Afterward she was taken into a camp, if she showed signs of pregnancy she would be worked to the bone. When the child came it would be killed in a less than merciful way. If not she would be throw in among the boys who were coming of age so they could sate their thirst, afterward she would be killed by the eldest girls so that they could understand their sacred duty to their people.
Somehow her mother had escaped, she met a kind farmer who took her in and eventually came to love her. It was because of this love that Allison's life was hell; he turned a blind eye as her mother repeatedly beat her in her uncontrollable rages. She would be starved often for days on end. Then let out of the Hole, as the dirty and damp cellar under the farmhouse was called, only to find she would have to fend for herself. She would go to the city, and almost instantly recognised for what she was. Even there she would have to work hard not to get on the wrong side of some drunk out for a bit of fun, most people thought she was only getting what she deserved and those that didn't just looked the other way.
It was during one of these starvations that her mother left, and then her father came and near beat her to death. Afterward she managed to get some respite. Her father seemed not to care much as long as she kept out of sight. She was getting ready to run away when things took a turn for the worst; her father took a shining to her in a non-fatherly way. She knew what was going on, she was hardly some sheltered fool. She tried to fight but that only made it worse, she finally snapped when her father came home drunk and in a particularly aroused state. He was not alone.
She could hear him downstairs bragging about what they could do to the 'half-breed'. When he came upstairs she was waiting, she killed him in one blow. The others heard his shouts of agony and rushed up the stairs, one by one they were all killed. By ten she already had seven deaths on her hands, it was then that she had a vision. Or what she thought was a vision. It told her nothing more than the fact that she had a mission, and that mission started at a Temple of Rascha.
She went to the nearest Temple, a journey that took almost a year, and they administered the Test to decide which way she would serve the Goddess or if she would at all. The Test was of a magical nature and she thought she may be turned away right there and then. However when they told her to wait as they deliberated, Allison knew what the answer would be. Even though they were aware of her heritage, a Temple could never turn away anyone who passed the Test. But they could easily be discharged later if they were not up to expectations. But she outperformed everyone.
She was almost always given the hardest tasks, the most difficult assignments but she always passed with flying colours. By fourteen she had managed to make some allies, mostly among the Mentors however. She had learned to watch for those that displayed a tendency to give her a modicum of respect or admiration. She had also learned that among the Sister's of Rascha there were few secrets, but those that were there could be exploited. She found out which mentors had desires for other women. While it was hardly a total secret she made herself available, and in turn gleaned favours from them. Others had darker secrets, and she exploited them at every turn.
Her sixth year with the Sister's was the hardest. As by some fluke another student discovered her past, and it was necessary for a potential member of the Guild to be pure. No killing before admission. The test was supposed to detect it, but she had passed. And she was so close to achieving her dream, so she did what had to be done. She killed the student in question and then covered it up by implicating one of her rivals among the other students. It almost didn't work, only a great deal of stealth and skill on her part got her through the year.
Now here she was lying on the floor unable to move with her target just a few feet away. All that she had done was in vain, her mother would be laughing in glee. She opened her eyes to find another pair less than an inch away, by reflex she kicked out. And amazingly got her target right in groin...
... Paxen rolled away and quickly leapt up.
"Whoa, whoa lets just both sit down and talk."
The assassin was now glaring at him. He sat down on a small stool. She continued glaring for a moment then sat on the bed.
"Now can we talk without the shouting?"
"Yes, but I still fail to see why we should talk at all."
"That remains to be seen, let?s start by introducing ourselves. My name is Paxen Shadow, and beyond that I have almost no idea who or what I am."
"Shadow? That must get an enthusiastic response from certain people."
"Enthusiastic is one way to describe it."
"My name is Allison Edge, and I don't feel you merit any information about me beyond that."
"Whatever floats your boat."
There were a few minutes of silence before Paxen spoke up again.
"You looked as though you were having quite the reminisce."
"If I was it would be no business of yours."
"Look I will be straight with you, I have little or no idea how things work nowadays. I need a guide of sorts. Now I realise you may not be the best choice, but I feel as though I can trust you."
"Trust me? You will be dead before midday."
"I have lasted this far."
"It would not matter anyway, for even if I were to act as your guide, I will be dead long before midday."
"The other Sister's?"
"Yes."
Paxen pulled her long dagger from his pack and tossed it to her. She caught it nimbly and quickly sheathed it. She stood a walked to the door.
"It would do you well to leave now Paxen, as skilled as you may be they will now send a master to kill you. And I doubt you will survive such an encounter."
She left without a backwards glance. Paxen was just getting ready to leave when the door crashed open, and before he could react he was tossed to the ground.
"WHAT DID YOU DO?"
She was shouting again.
"I have no idea what you?re talking about!"
"THIS!"
She shoved the pommel of her dagger in front of his face; it had changed. It was still the same design but there were now glyphs inscribed on it.
"They weren't there before."
"NO THEY WEREN'T, NOT WHAT DID YOU."
Shifting his weight swiftly he rolled her onto her back while he lay on top of her pinning her down.
"Stop shouting."
She looked as though she may have continued but instead she resumed her glaring. Her got up and offered her a hand, which she batted away. She jumped up from the floor and once again sat on the bed.
"What did you do to it?" she asked.
"Nothing, honestly."
"So you didn't put these glyphs on it? I am not stupid you know, I recognise what there glyphs are."
"What are they?"
"They are the written language of the God's, nobody has been able to read it for years."
"Really? Because I understand them."
Before he could do anything she moved across the room rested the edge of her blade along his neck.
"Then what do they say."
"Just one thing, Xiedhra."
"What does that mean, and I want a straight answer."
She pressed the blade against his neck a little bit harder.
"Seeker."
"Is that all?"
"Yes, does it mean anything to you?"
"No it doesn't, but?"
She was cut off as Paxen pressed his fingers to her lips. He mouthed for her to be silent...
... it took Allison a moment before she realised what was wrong. There was no sound to be heard bar their breathing and the steady drumming or the rain. There was a creak outside and then she was suddenly flying backwards. She landed on the bed, it took her a moment to realise that Paxen has kicked her out of the way. The reason became obvious when she spied the hole in the wall made by a crossbow bolt.
Paxen rose silently and rolled forward as a pair of sword broke through the wall right behind where he had been. She leapt off the bed just as a black-garbed figure came through the door, and with a vicious slash of her weapon killed the assailant. She heard the sound of glass smashing behind her but could not risk turning to investigate as another assailant came through the door.
The entire fight lasted about five seconds and there was very little thought involved. When Allison disposed with her adversary she turned to see Paxen still engaged with two attackers, she was about to intervene when in a single smooth slash he cut past both their guards and killed them. A sudden burning pain shot through her arm, sitting down on the bed she felt light headed. Paxen came over and examined the wound.
"Its deep, can you move your arm?"
She could, but the pain was excruciating.
"This needs to be stitched, but for now I will stop the bleeding we need to get out of here and fast."
He reached into his pack and withdrew a roll of bandages. With his knife he cut away her tunic and examined the wound again. He walked to the foot of the bed a brought up a pot of fresh water. Within seconds steam was rising from it, he tore away a piece of the bedclothes to use as a cloth and then dipped it into the water. He wiped away most of the blood around the wound.