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?


8. Going Home; Alexa's POV

I take a deep breath. If I'm going to do this, I have to do it right. I can't let anything slip up. 

The prince had his goonies move me from the torture room to a small cell, and chained me to a chair. The prince lounges on his on chair in front of me, not so close that I could hurt him, but not so far away as to imply he's scared of me.  

"Are you going to speak," The prince drawls slowly, "or are we going to have to return to the other room." I glare at him, and clear my throat which is soar from a day without food or drink. 

"You seek my master, The Silver Assassin, correct?" He waves me on impatiently. "Well... I know where he is." The prince gives me a lazy grin.

"I knew you would come to your senses! Now, where is he?"

"I can take you to him." The elf narrows his eyes.

"No, you will tell me his location, and then you will be given a swift and clean death. Something an assassin like you does not deserve."

"I can't tell you. I can only show you where he is. A memory enchantment is placed over his home, and only one of his assassins may recognize it. If you do not take me with you, you will never find him." My bluff seems to work, the princes face contorts into contemplation, and his graceful posture turns stiff. 

"And why,... would I trust you? The girl assassin who tried to kill me in my own bed?"

"You shouldn't." I reply. Its getting very hard to keep my eyes open. I just want to sleep...

The prince smirks, and stands from his chair. "We leave at dawn." He exits the cell, his guards flanking him. The door slams shut behind him, and I can hear the lock that slides into place. 

I sag against the chair, exhaustion finally taking hold.




I wake to the lock being slid out of place, and the metal door being thrown open. Two guards enter and unchain my wrists, hauling me to my feet and practically dragging me out of the cell. My body is still so tired, and I can feel the wounds that I didn't heal pulling against the harsh movements forced upon my body. 

Soon we are outside, and the morning suns glare down on me. The guards throw me down next to a pack- my pack. Next to my pack lies my red cloak, sword and daggers, still in their sheaths.  Why would they give me back my weapons? I glance up at the guards, they still have their backs to me, and they are the only ones here... 

I silently slide the twin knives free, and lunge forward-, only to be jerked back by an invisible force. I gasp as a stabbing pain erupts in my head, like a thousand nails being driven through my skull. I let out a scream and collapse to the ground, curling in on myself, trying desperately to escape the torturous pain. 

I clench my fists, and squeeze my eyes shut. A copper taste fills my mouth form where I'm biting my lip. I'm going to die. I'm going to die. 

Suddenly to pain evaporates. Leaving no trace that it was ever there. I open my eyes to see shinny, black boots. I follow them up to the ice cold face of the prince. 

"I see you have discovered your restrictions. Of course I couldn't have an assassin free ranging, killing everyone, so I had an enchantment placed on you. You can't leave and you can not hurt anyone except for me and my men, which is why I gave you your weapons back." He squats down, and grabs my chin roughly. "Do not try to attack my men again, or I promise I will make the pain ​unbearable, is that understood?" 

I jerk my chin away, and get to my feet gathering up my daggers and other items. "I assume you are going to kill me when outlive my usefulness?" 

He shrugs as he stands. "Most likely. You still are a traitor to the crown." 

"You are not the crown I serve." I say, strapping the sheaths onto my thighs and sliding my daggers into them.

"Oh? And which crown, pray tell, do you serve?" 

I meet the Prince's eyes. "I serve no crown." 

The prince just raises an eyebrow. More guards are now in the courtyard, packing bags and saddling horses. Two horses are lead over to the prince, both stallions, one midnight black, and the other snow white. The prince turns back to me as he accepts the reins of the snow white horse. 

"Your daggers, they were enchanted. None of my guards, warlocks or enchanters could remove them from their sheaths. What is so important about them that they must be concealed?" 

"Because my name is written on them." I don't know why I told this pig the truth, it just kinda... slipped. 

"Names are a powerful thing. Yours must hold some power if you go to these lengths to conceal it." 

I don't give him a response, instead I fasten my cloak around my shoulders. When I look at the prince again, he holds out the reins of the black stallions. "You can ride, I hope." 

Startled, I take the reins from him. "Of course, but I expected to, i don't know, be tied behind a horse and walk." 

"I am not that inhumane." He swings onto his horse with an elven grace, towering above me. "I may torture, but I will not force a woman, assassin or not, to walk when there is other transportation." 

"Such a gentleman." I mutter as I pull myself onto my own horse. I hold back my grimace of pain as the effort pulls open the wound on my abdomen. Turns out I didn't fully heal it. Once I'm sitting, I will the wound to close, not heal. I think I would pass out for days if I attempted to fully heal it. I bring my cloak around my body to hide the crimson stain that blossomed on my tunic. 

"Where to?" The cool voice of the prince cuts through the morning air, and I turn to find him at the castle gates, a group of guards on horses crowded behind them.  I trot over to the group before I experience the pain again. 

"Belfast." I reply. "We are going to Belfast." I am going home. 



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