Danté - An Assassin's Story

"For too long we have put up with the oppressive rule of the White Cross. Too long we have let them take our money. It's time to fight back, and I'm ready. And should I fail, may whoever reads this take up the fight once again. One day, the White Cross will fall."
This is the diary of Danté. A young man in a semi-fantasy world who has taken it upon himself to fight back against his dictators, the White Cross, and become an assassin.


4. Renegade - Day 4

Today, Marco de Francosi died, and I travelled along the rooftops.

It is the start of a new method. A method in which will kill our enemies, not steal from them.

But before I speak of this, I just speak about the news my sister gave me.

She had been living with my father outside the city for the past few years, and had not been present when the White Cross took over the city. But that's beside the point. It was sad news she gave me, though there was an upside to it.

My father had died of a chest infection, and on his deathbed, he'd given my sister a message for me.

He had told her to tell me that we come from a long line of men, and women, who have fought against the White Cross for generations. Turns out their order was older than I thought.

This group of men and women was known as the Brotherhood of Shadows, and I was to be the leader of this Brotherhood in my city. A city where the poor lived in black houses, and the rich in white.

She had brought with her a wooden chest, and within was a black, hooded shirt, as well as a cloak for my shoulder, a pair of leather boots, and a fine sword.

And I had worn these things that night, as well as the weapon Leonardo and I had made yesterday.

I walked out of my house, into the night. As the only rich family in my district, every other house was black, and I blended with them perfectly.

Pedro and Patrick joined me as I walked, both clad in black, though not hooded, and carrying nothing but small knives. Pedro still had his stupid beard. I don't see what his obsession with it it. It just hangs off his chin.

And Patrick had a limp, which made his red hair bob oddly.

"Marco is outside the tavern," Pedro whispered. "He's standing guard, or waiting for the White Cross to send an official to him."

I nodded, and increased my walking speed.

If it was the latter, there'd be a problem if Marco wasn't killed quickly. He could get reinforcements.

"I'm taking the rooftops," I said. "You two keep walking. See if you can lure away any nearby patrols."

Patrick smiled. "With pleasure." Then he ran off.

Pedro nodded, also smiling, and ran in a different direction.

I started running, and as I reached the wall, I carried myself up it.

I grabbed the edge of a window, and held on. I was doing it! I pulled myself up, using my boots to gain a foothold on the wall. They held me well, and I didn't slip at all.

I pulled myself up further, and grabbed hold of another window. It wasn't long until I was on the roof. Smiling, I ran. It didn't take me long to reach the tavern, and Marco was still standing outside it.

I jumped down from the roof, rolling as I hit the ground. And then released the blade into my grip. I closed in on him, and embedded the blade in his chest in a single, lightning-quick motion.

My hand covered his mouth to stifle any scream, and then he fell to the ground.

I noticed the blood on my hand, and sighed. Then I ran back home, taking the rooftops again.

My days as an assassin had begun.

And the White Cross now know how far we were willing to go.

And should be aware that we are willing to go further.

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