Honor to a Family
For among other evils caused by being disarmed, it renders you contemptible; which is one of those disgraceful things which a prince must guard against.
I want to be strong for myself, I wanted to stand up for myself, but he dawns on me like no other, I made a miss calculation, an error. I deserve what comes to me next after such a mistake. I have shamed my father. I do my job smoothly without hesitation. I felt........ discomfort. I should have been more careful, I didn’t make the error, I was the error. I have failed such a simple mission. Such a simple task. I have failed for the first time. And I hope it wouldn’t be my last.
“You are a disgrace!” His voice was indifferent and threatening. It cut through me like a swift motion of a blade slicing through my heart. He was emotionless, he was my fear. He would decide my fate. He decides my punishments. This unsympathetic man hardened by his hate of the world but respect the authority within it is my father.
“I didn’t mean to fail you in such a way of disgrace, father, forgive me.” I knew better than to quiver under his harsh tone but I also know to show the respect he deserves. It will still do me no good.
“You didn’t just fail me, you disgraced your mother. How would she act knowing her daughter couldn’t do such a simple assignment!” I knew it was coming from a mile away, but I still didn’t see it. He pulled the katana from his bet and sliced my exposed back, adding another scar of discipline to my collection. I also knew better to flitch, but my body betrayed me.
I am truly a disgrace.
“Did you flinch?” He asked, curiosity dripping from his solid tone. This is a surprise, I am usually not worthy of hearing emotion. Especially his considering he was a high-ranking officer, I have been giving a great honor.
But on such inadequate terms.
“Yes, father, I did,” I said honestly. I kept my stance, still not daring to move. He brings the katana down again on my right thigh and my body doesn’t move as I take the punishment I have so wholeheartedly deserved.
He placed the katana back in his belt. But my punishment wasn’t over, not yet.
Why could I just do one simple thing? I was told to guard the cells of 25 werewolves. I was on watch when they all shifted and rebelled against the death I knew they wouldn’t escape. They however managed to break down the prison bars that held them. I cut all of them down to size easily, but just as reinforcements arrived I had the problem solved, mostly.
One left to go. I razed my blade and saw something in its eyes. Sadness, fear, pain, and hope I would spare it. I could tell it was young, about the age of 12, maybe.
I..... hesitated? It reminded me of someone, but I couldn’t put my finger on it, like seeing a face you knew you never knew but you did. It slipped away and jumped out a nearby window into the night, leaving me dumbfounded.
And now here I am. A disgraceful, pathetic assassin, and two new scars to prove it. Fresh and wet on my back as the warm liquid traveled down, but with my arms behind me, I cupped the blood, making sure not to spill it on the hardwood floor.
“Guards! Take her to the hole.” Inside, I gasped, not daring to let it slip past my lips. I knew better to suggest a different punishment, for my father will ask what you think he will do to you. And the victim falls for the trap sadly, like a human in a wolf’s cage. He ends up doing something way worse.
But that’s not why I gasped.
I followed the guards, not trying to escape what they write in stone. I was out of my father’s office and escorted down to the hole.
That hole was a deep cold drop. Going down to about 75 feet underground. They made this punishment to see if you were worthy to live another day under hunters and commanding officers. This was only level 3 of the 15 different levels of punishment that waited for anyone who failed their duties, showed mercy to the beast we hunt, or humans.
It surprised me I got a level 3 punishment, I could admit my father was a jarring man but within principled reason.
He was bitter because of her.
My mother, she was executed, and I lost her at a young age. But there was nothing he could do to save her, and it was in his jurisdiction to make the irrevocable decision of her fate.
I just wished she had a more... undecorated death.
They stripped me of my Katana, and all the weapons I had with it. They ripped my shirt off, baring my chest to the fall air, kissing my skin roughly with leaves. Not to mention they tore my bloody jeans apart. I was to go without clothes, for they showed an honor that I had to gain again.
I faced the hole, readying myself to fall 75 feet down.
“Get going!” The guard yelled, promoting my fall with a jab from his staff. I jump down into the wide black hole, hoping to only break a rip or two, and a fractured ankle. I take seconds to remember who I am. But I don’t even say the name aloud or think it, knowing that I have shamefully disgraced my honor and my fathers.
My bloodline was one of the best at this institute. The line of the Cyzarine Family of Assassins. Our family name originating from Russia, where we originally held up till my mother’s passing. We left 3 days after our loss and didn’t even stay for the funeral with her side of the family at Adolphus’s estate. Coming here, we were being worshiped like Gods and commended for our efforts. Not only were we treated with high regard among the other family killers who lived here, but I was one of the top killers in my division.
But none of that mattered now that I was only 20 feet away from breaking my arm.