Sahshir was meditating.

His eyes were closed, but he could sense them. Feel their heartbeat. Feel the vibrations of their feet on the wood, even if they were not making a sound. Cross-legged, he waited, sensing around him.

There were five of them, one coming from a panel above, two from the doors around him. The last two were below the floor.

He was supposed to be hunting them.

But why hunt when remaining still would draw them to him all at once.

The doors opened. The floor and ceiling panels were thrown away. In came the rival assassins. Their blade cut through the air toward him from many directions.

At that moment, he sensed where each blade would end up. His heart, his neck, his stomach. The others were there in case he dodged, to hem him in. He felt the will of the wielders behind the blades, their confidence. Rising, he moved aside from a stab, even as he ducked under the strike meant for his neck.

Out came his blade, and he raked it across the man's throat, meant to hem him in. They collapsed bonelessly, even as he turned to the other four. They approached him with coordination, but the leftmost one was out of formation.

Sahshir rolled to that one's side and brought his sword to their stomach. Shoving their limp form against the one beside him, he sent them tumbling. Leaping over their falling forms, Sahshir brought down a splitting strike to the head. Three down, two remained.

Landing, he turned a counterattack from the rightmost assassin. Twisting, he plunged his sword into his heart. The last untangled himself from the limp form of his comrade. Before he could move, Sahshir passed him, slashing his sword through his stomach and out the other end. He would be cut into two pieces if it had been a standard sword. As it was, he collapsed. Sahshir turned the Ghost Sword and sheathed it. From there, he went back into a cross-legged position. He continued his meditations until Nayasha entered the room.

"Well," said Nayasha, "that is one way to complete a mission."

"I judged it to be the quickest solution to the problem," said Sahshir.

"Your task was to escape the castle," said Nyasha. "Not kill every other person inside it."

"Now that they are dead, I can leave at my leisure," said Sahshir. "And my name will be feared. So future enemies will desire to avoid my wrath."

He'd left several dozen other such assassins collapsed.

"That is true," said Nayasha. "However, you were also supposed to use stealth. Ambush. Deliberately putting yourself into positions to be ambushed to demonstrate your superiority."

"I have practiced stealth much," said Sahshir. "The ability to sense life force, however, is something I have not. Using it, I could determine where they would strike and turn their ambush against them."

"There are circumstances where detecting lifeforce in someone can injure you," noted Nayasha. "Gazing into the spirits of demons, for instance, can break you mentally. And demons sometimes appear in other forms.

"The next time we do this exercise, I expect you to perform it in the manner it was intended to be won." The other assassins awoke and looked up as Nayasha looked down at them. "And don't think that you are any better, Ashar. You became overconfident when you realized Sahshir was not running. He had already defeated many of your group when you started taking him seriously."

"You said there would be a reward for the group that defeated him," noted one of them.

"Yes. It is another test," said Nayasha. "I wanted to see if you could cooperate when one of you would be rewarded greater than the others. You would surely have been victorious had you come at him all at once.

"Moreover, when he had defeated most of you, why did you not run down the clock?"

"Run down the clock?" asked Ashar.

"Yes," said Nayasha. "In this setting, it was only a matter of time before reinforcements arrived. Your force was only a vanguard. You would have won by default if you had delayed Sahshir a few hours.

"You could have avoided a confrontation with him until he decided to leave or seek you out. In that circumstance, you would have reversed his advantage. You could have picked the field of battle. Instead, you continued to play to his strengths."

"I understand," said Ashar.

"Good," said Nayasha. "Sahshir, you wanted to speak with Master Tuor after this. Go to him. The rest of you get together and prepare for more practice."

Sahshir nodded.

Over his time here, he learned that this place had innumerable passages and secret ways. He was defeated and caught through them many times in the first few sessions. Now, he used them to reach the sanctum of Tuor.

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This time, the cherry blossoms were nowhere to be found. Instead, Tuor was meditating in a wasteland with the same red sky you saw everywhere else. The violet sun glared brightly at him, and his expression was a scowl.

Sahshir kneeled before him. He wondered if Tuor would allow what he requested. "They are defeated, Master Tuor."

Tuor looked up, eyes opening, and a slight smile crossed his lips. "Excellent. You have advanced much in the time you have been under my tutelage. Your skill has increased exponentially. A gift of our bloodline, I expect.

"But I can sense you are nervous. Your posture and breathing change informs me that you have come to ask something of me.

"What is it?

"I have been gone from my village for six months," said Sahshir. "Much may happen in that time. I desire to return there and ensure that all is going well."

"Is it?" asked Tuor.

"I also desire to settle matters with Asim," said Sahshir.

"An admirable resolve," said Tuor. "However, to slaughter him and his men would be most unwise. You have my permission to humble him and his men. But none of them will die by your hand if you wish to remain my student."

"Why?" asked Sahshir, resentment in his tone.

"You have neither the time nor experience to administer the kingdom you seek to reclaim," said Tuor. "It would be better if you left the one who has been minding those affairs alive for the time being. A civil war would be most unfortunate. Are these terms acceptable?"

"They are," said Sahshir. He could wait.

Tuor nodded. "Then you have my blessing, of course. Go, and take as much time as you need. Within reason, of course."

Sahshir nodded and rose. He departed the sanctum and quickly made his way through the fortress. As he began to descend the paths where spring was blooming. He halted and looked to the shadows where Nayasha was sitting in a tree.

"You are going, then?" said Nayasha.

"I am," said Sahshir.

"Would you like me to escort you?" asked Nayasha.

"No," said Sahshir.

"As you prefer," said Nayasha. Then she departed.

The journey back to his village took days, leading him through several areas with less life. Several times, he would look west and see the Kalthakian wastes. The vast desert created in the War of the Gods ages ago stretched outward. Distantly, the moans of the dead could be heard at night.

Soon, the trees gave way to fertile grounds. He saw farmers tending their fields. When they saw him, they greeted him with enthusiasm. A reminder of Asim's presence. He'd become popular since he took power as regent, of course.

As he reached the town of Khasina, Sahshir reflected that the city was becoming too humble a word. It had grown dramatically since the days when Sahshir's namesake lived. The original Abdul Sahshir had settled his clans in this place. Fighting many wars, he married a Dinisian Princess. Tents had become huts, and huts had become houses.

Now, it stood surrounded by high walls of red stone. Armed guards patrolled the walls with spears and shields. Sahshir drew out the rope, a grapple he had always been trained to carry, and hurled it up to the crenelations. Scaling up, he slipped past and made his way down into the city. He could have done the same within the rope, but this took less work.

Neither the guards nor the city watch saw him.

Sahshir made his way through the market. As he did, he observed the people going about their business. Then there was a crash. He saw several of Asim's men casting down a table of goods as a merchant cowered.

"How dare you try to cheat me?!" snarled the man.

"Sir," said the merchant, "the price has become higher because of a lack of supply-"

The guard kicked the merchant. "Don't talk back to the warriors of Lord Asim! Or you'll regret it!" Sahshir noted the anger of the crowds. They were afraid, but they were also furious. They would remember this.

"Damn mercenaries," muttered a man. "They're always throwing their weight around. Did you ever hear what happened to Abdul Sahshir?"

"No," said another, "he just up and vanished. We'll probably never hear from him again."

"You may," said Sahshir as he emerged.

The two men looked up in surprise. "Prince Sahshir, we... we did not expect you."

"I am not here as a Prince," said Sahshir. "I have returned to set things right. However, I have been forbidden from killing Asim or his men. He does not want there to be a civil war."

"Well, if you can manage that, we'll be pleased, men." said the merchant. "Ever since you left, things have only gotten worse. There are rumors that Asim means to make himself king. And his thugs do displays of dominance like that all the time."

"What was the reason for that attack?" asked Sahshir.

"Asreth made some choice comments about Asim's rule," said the man. "He said over cups that the charges would never have happened in King Aresh's day."

"I see," said Sahshir. "What is your name?"

"I am Mohas," said the first man, "and this is Bangdel."

"Very well," said Sahshir. "I want you to get me a list of everyone you can think of who has suffered at the hands of these thugs. Do so, and make a list accurate, and you will earn my sincere gratitude.

"And say nothing of my presence."

They nodded. "It will be as you say, my prince," said Mohas.

"And if either of you betrays my presence," Sahshir paused, "I am bound not to kill Asim or his men. You are neither. Am I understood?"

"Yes," said Mohas.

"Good," said Sahshir. "I will be in touch."

He faded into the shadows and scaled the roof before entering the palace. As he did, he contemplated how he could remove Asim from power without killing him. Some of them were very appealing.

But he was not here for Asim's blood. He was still waiting.

Eventually, he reached the palace. The gates loomed before him, but there was a shrine nearby. The shrine where the Blade of Chaos was stored. He took a side trip them, making his way in. And there she was.

Kushina was sweeping the leaves from the shrine. The dark-haired priestess held a broom in one hand. On the top of the broom was a spearhead, largely symbolic. When they were children, he'd always made a game of trying to sneak up on her. He'd never succeeded, however. On a whim, he turned from his mission and crept toward her from behind. Approaching, he raised a hand to touch her shoulder.

"Don't even think about it, Abdul," said Kushina. "Where have you been? You said you'd visit."

Sahshir remained silent for a moment. "Tuor did not permit me to return."

"Of course he didn't," said Kushina. "Well, come inside. I'll make some tea."

It was just like when they were children.