The Assassins Guilt

CHAPTER 1

She had been travelling for two days, few hours rest and she will set for her destination again, it was past hours of night or more precisely- dawn was soon to break.

She had camped along a river few hours ago. Two days of non-stop travelling had finally taken a toll on her. Standing before a dying fire, she thought long and deep -eventually falling out of her stance when a wood cracked much like a twisted bone. Raising her eyes, she let them fall on embers of wood fire being whisked away by smooth wind, like a much-held departure of a soul. How many times was the deed committed by her hands, she couldn’t find the answer to that. Heaving a sigh of exhaustion, she looked up.

There in the light of breaking dawn stood her horse. The beautiful creature stood there with all his night glory. His wise ancient eyes grazed at her, in a questioning look, like asking her whey are u still standing there. Slowly exhaling she approached him, one hand reaching out to caress his velvety snout, other grabbing his reins. Jumping with a smooth motion she brought her torso closer to him and whispered, ``let’s see how fast the winds will carry us’’.

It didn’t take her much time after that to reach there. Right in the middle of mountains in all his magnificence stood her home; well-hidden and well protected there stood THE ASSASSINS KEEP. The beautiful ancient building hummed with a strange power. The green mantles creeping its walls brought out that darkness in it. In the place; breathing with dark power; were trained the most glorious fighters of centuries, assassins, unyielding wielders of sword, who never succumbed to fear. Who fought with honor, with utmost skill and power that many had never willed to face!

She took in the building not missing the well-hidden archers. Her eyes caught the glimmer of a silver in shadows standing in side mountains, guarding both sides of narrow opening of guild.

Twilight had dawned upon the place. The swirling colors of sky making the whole place look like a sanctuary. Like angels of love and peace will befall on this place, but it’s not a place for an angel to visit, how naïve of her to think that. It was far more deadly and dangerous place. It was a place to forge killers, and there standing on the cliff she was a living legend of this place’s ability to forge killers. Sitting on the back of her dark night horse, with her black and heavy cloak hiding her features, she felt as though centuries has passed since she departed. Feeling the looming darkness surround her-she tugged her horse to descent down the lush green path, down and down, and there; the enter way; the looming arbored archway.

She almost sagged with relief, only years of training kept her still; giving the side guards a dip of her head she entered.

Leaving her horse in the care of stable men, she headed for the building. Her dark cloak, swiping the dust along it. Entering through the double doors she exhaled lowly; looking ahead she whispered. Time to face nightmare!

One more turn and a long corridor and then she will be there. The head of Assassins was sitting on his dice that was few inches raised from ground, checking few papers. Upon her arrival he raised his eyes, his dark long locks falling to his side. Like king he sat there, shoulders broad; relaxed. Dark proud brows, long straight nose and strong angled jaw. Sitting there in Gold embroidered shirt; she could feel his eyes falling on her. Dark eyes staring at her, taking in her every step; scanning her for any injury, counting her steps, observing her every move.

After complete twelve steps she found herself in front of the man, who practically raised her and his son together.

Xsayarsa Arthfael; a true warrior. she found herself gaze at him. His stunning features always shocked her. She could swear on long lost empire that he Broke many innocent hearts. His dark onyx gaze that could have seen beauties of world fall on his feet, now had shadows of past, of pain and sorrow, but the man never let anyone see his past it. Always a stoic man, who talked of business, nothing more. A man of very few words, who spoke with silence. The man who every living or dead legend feared to face. A man of power, who always knew what to do on right moment.

Slowly she found herself bow before him ″Master!″

Raising her eyes, she found him bend his head in acknowledgement. Then in a stern voice he demanded

″ how was your mission?″

those words he always asked. After every mission, every slaughter, every massacre, she did. And then like a puppet she found herself give every detail.

It always exhausted her, but no matter how exhausted how spent she was he never let her go without details. Closing the double doors, she signed. Everything felt heavy, her soul was heavy with sins of body. She could feel the world still around her. Utter silence! silence so deep her bones chilled. Every corner of the corridor filled with shadows of darkness, darkness that brought silence and panic.

She knew it had been too much for her. The non-stop killing, she was doing was burning her soul. But that was the path she chose.

Leaving all the thoughts behind she took a step and next then steps after steps, for now it was no use to have such thoughts.

passing few doors on her way she headed for her chamber. when an amused voice full of a wicked adventure spoke

″Well, if it’s not the famous Rüya Godwin.″