The Heart of A Fae

Galadhwen is an Elven Assassin who doesn't like being double crossed or tricked. She accepts missions that are simple, and easy money. But, with the seemingly easy task of delivering a package is thrown her way, she may have taken on more than she can handle.

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1. Repent

The cobbled streets were soaked in blood, the bodies of my victims as pale as the moon that shone above me. No one was left. No one. The streets of this once thriving town were quiet; Death's shadow now lingering over it - my shadow now lingering over it. Never again shall I be downtrodden. Never again shall I be betrayed. For treachery is punished with the swift slice of a double edged sword. Everything you stand for shall have it's legs cut from underneath it. You shall be alone, no one to support you, no one to defend you, no one to spread your lies or to believe them. If you dare cross me you will not live to tell the tale. I sighed, wiping blood splatter off my pale skin, ignoring the fact that it smudged across my cheek like badly applied make-up. What a mess. I wouldn't like to clean this up, not that anyone would find the inhabitants of the town dead at least for a few more days. Bad weather had meant that the roads and pathways linking small towns to one another and to large villages had become treacherous to follow in quick pace. I had more than enough time to make my escape. And so I did. I tuned around, noting the snow that was slowly starting to fall down from the black sky. It would soon enough turn red.


“So, we really went though with it,” said a voice from behind me. In one swift motion I turned, throwing a dagger that pinned the owner of the voice to the side of a house. The boy whimpered quietly, but kept his calm. I sighed.

“You're still following me? One of these days, I might actually kill you,” I rolled my eyes trying to hide my excitement, walking over to the boy. I say boy, but he was actually older than me. Only by a few months though. We were both seventeen, soon to be eighteen.

“I look forward to seeing you try. I know you can't resist my company,” he smirked, despite the fact that I could decapitate him in one fell swoop.

“Watch your tongue, Echil,” I laughed as I pulled the dagger out of the house, and his shirt collar.

“How many times do I have to tell you, my name's not Echil, it's Lerin! And I am far from a human,” he laughed, rubbing his shoulder, “If you continue, I'll start calling you Eledhwen.” His smirk widened as I shot daggers at him with my eyes. I had no problem with him talking in my native tongue, Elven, in fact I admired it, but calling me an Elven Maiden was uncalled for. I may be an Elf, but I am far from a maiden.

“I will be known to you as Galadhwen; nothing more, and nothing less,” I sighed. Despite his cockiness, I quite liked him. He reminded me much of myself. And considering he kept following me around, I may as well make him permanent. He gave me the once over, grimacing at some of my wounds.

“Before you ask, I got smacked by a chair, a cleaver thrown at my shoulder, a bayonet in my ankle and had a nasty run in with the guards of the Mayor. I've had worse,” I winced all of a sudden recalling all of the injuries that I had; it suddenly brought to light how much pain I was in.

“Well it's a good job I'm a natural born healer, isn't it?” he sighed, shaking his head at me like you would at a naughty child. I widened my eyes threateningly at him, but he ignored me.


Even though Lerin smiled, his eyes lingered on the chaos around me, and colour drained from his face as he focused on the faces of the dead.

“Don't look at them for too long,” I said, and Lerin obeyed. He looked straight at me, his bright silver eyes reflecting the snow beautifully. I'd known him for...what, a week now, but we'd hit it off immediately. I may be an assassin, but it doesn't mean that I don't value good company. He'd lived in this village. But he wasn't one of them. He wasn't corrupted with the lies of the Mayor, or twisted by the tales of the towns-folk, or contorted by the whispers of the bemused little children that played in the streets. Lerin's eyes drifted back to the bodies. He gulped, probably swallowing bile,but studied their faces long and hard.

“They can't hurt you any more. You don't have to live in fear now,” I smiled, putting my hand on his shoulder. He placed his hand on mine, looking up at my face.


“We should stick together,” he said simply, “That way no one can mistreat either of us.” As an elf, I knew instantly what he meant. Humans looked down upon us, fearing our natural skills and inborn magic. They often crossed to the other side of the road when they saw an elf, but things were getting better. However, the Fae had it even worse. After the war ten years ago between the Fae and the humans, they had been bitter rivals. The only reason the humans won was because they bribed the dwarves out of hiding, offering them rare materials and knowledge in return for manpower. No one knew how many dwarves there were until they came flooding from underground, smothering the Fae, who despite having superior skills and battle intellect couldn't stand against their huge numbers, never mind combined with the humans. Ever since then, the Fae had been treated like scum in human society, the remaining Fae fled to their homelands, but for those like Lerin, who was half human half Fae born before the split...he belonged nowhere; a child of resent and bitter feelings.

“Don't worry, I'm not letting you out of my sight,” I said, punching him gently in the arm and he smiled, his attention ripping from the bodies of his abusers.

“Let's go,” he said rubbing his head, “We don't want to get caught.”

“We? You didn't do anything,” I laughed, beginning to walk away. He rolled his eyes and met with my pace.

“I was an amazing distraction, thank you very much,” he grinned, our eyes meeting, then immediately looking away. We walked the rest of the way in silence. As we reached the outskirts of the town, Lerin looked back.

“It's time to let it go,” he sighed. I expected him to say something really meaningful and pure, especially after all he'd been though in this wretched place. But instead, he put his finger up to the village, yelled a profound amount of choice language, and boldly marched away, not waiting for me to catch up. I shook my head and laughed. And to think the only reason I met him, and slaughtered a whole village was because I was sent to pick up one measly package.

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