Year 871: Sixteen Years Later
“Come on Falcon eat up, you’re going to need your strength for the day,” a young man said to the boy sitting at the table picking at his food. Falcon was a tall, thin, sixteen year old boy, with midnight black hair, and blue eyes that were colored like water.
Falcon ate slowly as he looked at the other boy, Leo was a tall seventeen year old boy, with broad muscles, bleach blonde hair and deep grey eyes. His family had taken in the younger boy and raised him on their farm. The couple died a few years later from a fever leaving Leo alone with the young boy. Leo was the only family Falcon had ever known, and really over the past two years, Falcon has begun to look at him like a father rather than a brother.
The only thing the younger boy had from his real family was a necklace of a bird on around his neck. It’s what kept him going to find his real parents, if they were still alive that is.
After eating, a Leo and Falcon walked to the castle courtyard and saw six horses with six riders at the gates talking to the guards. Five in black robes, one in white. The man in the white robes handed a guard the scroll with a phoenix seal on it. The guard looked uneasy, but sent them on their way. Falcon looked at the riders with some interest as they walked their horses to the nearby stables. One of the assassin’s looked at him, it was the man in the white robes, they stared at each other for just a moment until the assassin turned away to talk to the other members of his team.
“Okay...you better go get to work,” he said and looked at the stables. He groaned and nodded going into them grabbing a shovel. Falcon didn’t have a real occupation yet so he worked in the stables, or the fields until he is of age. This starts around the age of ten and goes on until they are chosen for their career by mentors. If they’re not...well let’s just say they don’t ever leave this job.
A perfect example is the older man that works in the stables with Falcon. No one really knows his name so they just call him “Hound” because of his basset hound, Lloyd, that lays outside the stables ever loyal to him.
He was an older man. Mid forties. His hair was grey and unkempt, his face was rugged and even though he was “condemned”, as he so delicately puts it, to the stables one would think he would have a little muscle. Wrong. He was skin and bone, his skin sunk off his bones a little. He was quiet and mostly kept to himself but there were times that he would talk to Falcon out of boredom.
Lloyd suddenly barked loudly and growled. Falcon and Hound looked up, Hound whistled for the dog to stop barking, Falcon’s eyes had widened. It was an assassin. This one was in a black robe, his face was showing as well. He had dark read hair and a go-tee that was speckled with brown. His skin was pale, it looked like he was from the far North, or from the Crystal Islands in the east.
“Good boy,” he whispered. He looked at Falcon and smiled softly before going to a black horse and pet him. “Hey there boy,” he said. “How are you feeling?” he asked. The horse just snorted a little. The man laughed softly. “That’s what I thought, well here,” he said and put a pill into the horses giant mouth. The horse grunted and shook his head. “Umo, be good, Cardinal said it was supposed to help you,” Umo shook his head again. The assassin laughed and pet his giant head a tender look coming into his eyes.
Falcon watched in fascination, walking slowly over to the assassin he cleared his throat softly. The assassin looked at him and a small smile made his way to his lips. “Your horse...is very well behaved,” he said. Then he looked at the mare next to Umo. “Unlike her,” he said softly. The assassin looked at him and then the mare then laughed softly.
“Yuma, you giving the kid trouble?” he asked. The mare snorted and turned around flicking her tail. The man laughed again and looked at Falcon. “Don’t worry she’s just as hot headed as her rider,” he said.
“Was that an insult?” a hard voice said. The assassin turned around and laughed nervously.
“Hey, Nightingale,” he said nervously. She glared hard at him moving her silver hair out of her black eyes, she cross her arms in frustration. Falcon got a good glimpse of a sword on her hip as well as a belt of throwing daggers. He swallowed, no telling how good she was with them.
“Mallard, you know the rules. We’re not supposed to be outside, get back to the Inn!” she snapped at him. Mallard glared at her, then he stared at Falcon before smiling at him and walked off, the woman looked at Falcon and glared at him sharply, after a moment she followed the other man to the Inn.
Falcon watched them leave then shook his head gently, going back to mucking out the stables quietly. He looked at his bare and slightly toned arms and he could see the goosebumps from the stare the woman gave him. He shuddered as those piercing blue eyes made his way into his head, trying to ignore the feeling.
“Evil witches,” Hound said bitterly as he spat on the ground, it was like the very sight of the woman gave him a very bad taste in his mouth.
Falcon looked at him and raised an eye brow at him. The older man just cackled sickly and leaned against the shovel staring at him closely.
“Female assassin’s, they’re all evil witches, they’re beautiful to boot, but let them get close to ye and they’ll kill ye,” he said. “They’re more violent than the males are, and more willing to kill,” he said. Falcon just looked at him like he was crazy, another lesson that Leo told him was that Hound was nuts and that he’ll say anything to scare you. Falcon shrugged.
“I’m not afraid of her, she seems trustworthy enough and the other assassin didn’t seem so bad, who knows maybe they’re not here to kill someone, maybe they’re resting here, you never know Hound,” he said in a matter-of-fact voice.
Hound just cackled again and coughed a bit at the end. He looked at the boy with threatening yellow eyes. Then he pointed a boney finger at the boy. Falcon just held his ground.
“Beware boy, it’s the nice ones that pull you in and once you’re in you never get out!” he warned and went back to mucking Falcon shuddered before going back to work as well, Hounds words still haunting his head.
That night, Hermes walked to the Castle of Morina alone. Making sure to stay hidden in the shadows where he was safe from eyes of the guards. If they saw him there was no way that he was going to make it out without getting shackled, and he’d rather avoid a situation that called for a fight, he wasn’t in the mood tonight to make widows and orphans.
Walking to a corner of the castle he looked up at a lit window, he sighed inwardly. It had to be at least a one hundred foot climb to the ledge, groaning he looked for handle holds and climbed his way up. Curse his growing age, if he wasn’t so old he could’ve scaled this wall easily.
Hermes climbed up slowly and quietly as to not alert anyone on the wall or on the ground. Grunting quietly he finally made it to the window and heaved himself inside the room, looking around Hermes could see that he made it to the room he was looking for. Smirking at his memory that never seemed to fail him he saw a figure in the chair that was in front of the fire place.
Walking soundlessly to the large chair he stood behind it, the figure didn’t seem to notice his presence in the room yet. Hermes looked closely and smiled when he saw that the man sitting there, in this case the King of Morina, was sleeping, his left elbow on the arm his head resting on his hand. Sighing, Hermes went over to a small table in the corner of the room and took two crystal glasses and brandy bottle. Taking out the stopper he smelled the booze and sighed pouring it into the glasses.
After putting the stopper back into the bottle he put it down and brought the glasses over to the figure and tapped his shoulder. The man snorted as he awoke and looked up at Hermes. He smiled broadly at him and looked at the drink that was offered to him, laughing softly he took it from the assassin. They clinked their glasses and took a sip, Hermes sat next to him in another soft chair and sighed contently.
“It’s been a while Hermes,” the man said. His once flawless black hair now slightly greying with age, wrinkles near his grey eyes that have turned wiser with the age. Hermes sighed and ran his fingers through his own greying black hair.
“Too long, Robert. I’m sorry I couldn’t be here for your daughter’s wedding, I had other...business, to attend to,” he said sipping the drink again.
The King nodded and stared at the dancing flames in the hearth, as the two sat in companionable silence the King looked at Hermes. Sixteen years, he thought. It’s been sixteen years since he last saw this man, his best friend, and the man that saved his life.
It’s been thirty one years since he first met Hermes as a young man, a novice to be exact, still learning the ways of the world. Those were the days of the Great War, it was between Morina and Calrinnia. The King had been younger and more irrational with his decisions on how to lead his army, that’s what ultimately lead to his capture and an enemy camp.When that happened the army had to call in for back up, they called upon the assassins for a favor, Hermes’ father sent him and after a great deal of effort the young man saved the King from certain death and from losing the war.
Robert smiled at the memory, ever since then Hermes and himself have always been very good friends and would support each other in any time of need. Hermes was a brother to him, and he believed he was the same to the assassin.
They sat there before Hermes sighed deeply, he looked at his friend almost apologetically.
Robert knew that look from years of experience with the assassin, that look just meant that this was no pleasure visit. Robert sighed as well and put his glass down looking at the man seriously.
“Who is it this time Hermes?” he asked. “A noble? A knight? Me?”
Hermes laughed at the last bit of it and shook his head downing the rest of the drink and put the glass down on the table and sighed contentedly as the liquid warmed his body a little.
“No, though you probably wish it,” he joked lightly. Both men chuckled before the seriousness returned. Hermes stood up and sighed running his fingers through his hair, he started pacing in front of the hearth and started to speak. “I’m not the only one here, I brought my squad,” he started. Roberts’ eyes widened a little, normally the assassin came solo, the fact that he brought the other five members it had to be either something big, or he was just admitting that he was too old to do this alone.
“There’s a man here, by the name of Disinion, now that may not mean much to you right now my friend, but it will all make sense in the end. Anyway, we believe that he and his brother who died at our hand last week is in league with Jaeger,” he said. Robert was now speechless, he knew through several talks in confidence with Hermes who Jaeger was.
“Have you any proof of this man being in League with him?” Robert asked finally able to find his voice. Hermes nodded and looked at his long time friend.
“Before we killed him, his brother ratted him out, and one of my team had been following Disinion for months before hand, her intel is accurate enough to convict and execute him,” Hermes said. Robert nodded and sighed closing his eyes and pinching the bridge of his nose.
“If it’s my permission you want Hermes, you have it,” he said. Hermes nodded and bowed lowly to him, he may be a friend, but that doesn’t mean he’s excused from showing him respect. He went to the window and pulled his cowl over. Before he jumped Robert spoke again. “Be warned Hermes, if any of my men die tonight because you couldn’t be discrete I will have you put in jail,” he said almost coldly. Hermes turned his head slightly and nodded before he jumped over the ledge and climbed down.
Once on the ground, Hermes made his way to the inn that he and his team were staying in for the night. Going to the lounge area in the back, the five other assassins looked up at him. They didn’t need to ask, the look on his face said it all.
“Get your gear, we leave in an hour,”
