Prologue
In my line of work, stealth and secrecy is something of a second nature. From the beginning, this is what we are taught and it never fails us. Never are we seen unless we desire it so. Our targets are completely oblivious to us until it is far too late and by then, we’re already gone again.
Remorse is often a concept that is lost on us as our skin thickens over time. We do not shed a tear for those who fall by our hand nor do their cries haunt our nightmares. Not anymore.
Some refer to us as beasts but to others, we are a necessary evil, keeping the balance where the gods have failed. Of course, such a service does not come freely or without risk. In exchange for maintaining societal structures, we accept hefty sums of coin that litter our coin purses.
However, things cannot remain that way forever. Eventually, the world loses its balance and even we are helpless to maintain it. Eventually, our organisation must fall apart and forged alliances are shattered into pieces. This is when the gods finally intercept and fix what is broken, even if that is us.
To put it simply, we are all pieces in their game and when we walk off the board, they have to come down and pluck us from our journey and place us back on the path. Even if this means taking a life or better yet, giving someone a half-life, forcing them to live as a beast if that’s what it takes. Unfortunately, this is something that can only be learned the hard way.
For a lowly, illiterate assassin such as myself, this is a difficult concept to grasp and one I simply did not want to believe. However, I have learned firsthand that no matter how fast you run or how early your head start is, you will never outrun your fate. It is far more powerful than you can ever comprehend and it will always succeed.
As a young child, I had always wished the tales of the archaic arts to be true, hoping they would somehow save me from my miserable existence, but they never came. No heroes of legend ever found me and freed me from my prison. It was only her who came to my aid and it was she who I would follow until the ends of this world and beyond. It was then that I knew those stories were just that; stories. There were no heroes nor did those ancient arts ever exist, it was only us, the keepers of balance, who would come to aid those who needed it most.
If only I knew that it was I who caused this imbalance.
