The Silver Assassin

LIfe as the most notorious assassin in Endasia is quite easy, until the day that Alexa is hunted down by her last victims brother. Will she escape the clutches of the Elven Prince? Or will she accept the hand fate dealt her?

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1. Alexandrea Silverhart; Alexa's POV

 

After being tied to a post for twenty-four hours, I’m starting to get ticked.

    The first couple of hours, I found it quite amusing that a few Carriers tied me, me, to a post for lottering. But as the day dragged on and they clearly had no plan to let me go, I started getting angry. I tried escaping, but they had enchanted the rope, so when I pulled against it, it would only tighten its hold on my wrists.

After that failed, I tried coaxing children who passed to help me. But for being known for their gentleness and kindness as Carriers, they certainly didn't show any to me.  So then I yelled.

I yelled through the night, and into dawn, until my throat felt like sandpaper.  

And now I’m here, throat sore, wrists bloody, the scorching sun bearing down at me, and glaring with such ferocity at anyone who passes, that I think I made some kids pee their pants. My long hair had come undone sometime during the night, and it now sticks uncomfortably to my neck and face.  

After another good half hour, I see a group of middle age men in long robes approach me; The Elders.  

I grin up at the Elder that stops in front of me, an auburn beard covers half his face, and grey eyes stare into my electric blue ones.

“Do you think you’ve learned lesson? Normally, we would just have you pay a small fine, but you resisted us, so we had to take more,... drastic, measures.”

I nod in agreement. “Of course, because standing outside someone's house a little too long deserves the punishment of being tied to a post, with no food or water, for twenty-four hours.” My voice comes out in a rasp, and breaks at some points in my sentence, but I hold steady, despite the growing pain in my throat.  

His chuckle has me bearing my teeth at him, but he only laughs harder. “What’d you say your name was?”

“I never told you my name.”

“Ah, thats right,” his eyes twinkle. “The unnamed, Achilles girl who stood outside of Davster Belwans home for five hours straight, staring into his window.”

I give him a toothy smile. “What can I say, he was very interesting.”

“I’m going to let you go, but you have to leave Aether.”

“Thats very nice of you to let me go, but I have unfinished business here. With your friend, Davster Belwan.” He stiffens as some realization crosses his face. About freaking time.

“We--we were told that he would be spared,-- that--that he would be forgiven and Aether would remain untainted.” I smile sweetly at him.

“Yeah, about that, my employer changed his mind. And if you don't wish to be on my hit list, I would suggest you untie me and stay out of my way.”

He takes a shaky step back, and motions to a man standing next to him. The man is slightly larger than the rest of the Elders, well actually quite larger, and stinky, but I probably smell worse. He walks behind me, and I feel the ropes loosen and fall. Needles prick my skin as I pull my arms In front of me.

My hands and arms shake, and my wrists are raw and bloody from where the ropes cut into my skin. The cloth from my shirt sticks to my arms with sweat and blood, and I really start to wish I had a shirt on underneath my tunic so I could shed the travel worn fabric.  

I slowly stand, shaking legs barely holding me up. I notice the men take a collective step back, and I smirk. Guess I’m still intimidating in a state like this.

I start walking, shakily, towards a house at the end of the street.  I hear the men shuffling behind me, obviously deciding if they should follow me or not.

I hear their footsteps recede, and I let out a shaky breath, turning my attention to my bloody wrists.   I glance around myself, and once I’m satisfied that no one is taking too much notice of me, I close my eyes, willing the gashes to close.

I feel the skin start to knit together, a almost blissful like feeling, of both pain and pleasure.

When I open my eyes again, I feel slightly more exhausted, but I push forward.

Soon I'm standing in front of a small, well kept cottage. Flowers blooming in the boxes outside the windows, and the smells of fresh bread waft through the window.  I walk up to the door and knock.

A pale man with thinning grey hair opens it with a smile. "Can I help you?"

"Yes, I believe you can," I examine my dirt covered nails. "I'm here on business from Amar." The smile falls from his face as he tries to shut the door, but my hand flies out to stop it.

“Now, now. Don't you want to invite me in?”

“Please, I have a wife,- kids! Please, don't do this!” I smile sadly at him.

“I'm sorry, but I can't change you're fate. But Amar can, and he is willing to offer you a deal.” I can practically feel the relief coming off him.

"Yes, of course! Anything! I'll do anything!" I push past him and take a step inside, following my nose to the kitchen. “You can redeem yourself, if your bring Amar the money. All two hundred gold coins of it.”

He nods, dragging a hand across his sweaty brow. “I-I can do that.” I take a loaf of the still warm bread, ripping a piece off before sticking the rest in my pack.

“By the next full moon.” I say, stuffing the piece of bread into my mouth. His jaw drops and horror plays in currents on his face.

He takes a stumbling step backwards. “But thats in ten days!” He stammers.

“Then I guess you better hurry.” And with that, I exit his cottage, knowing he’ll be dead within the week.


 

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