The guard cursed softly at his luck. The weather was miserable, with rain pouring down. He was tired and hadn't slept well that day. His armour clanked softly with every step he took. He stopped as he heard rustling behind him. He turned around and raised his lantern.

"Who goes there?" he asked as he peered into the darkness.

No reply.

"Must have been the wind," the man mumbled sleepily and turned to continue his round of the keep's wall.

Then a hand covered his mouth from behind, and something sharp slid across his throat. He tried to yell, but all that came out of his throat was a soft gurgle.

As the guard collapsed, his killer dragged him up and tossed him over the edge of the wall.

"Poor bloke," the hooded figure whispered as he cleaned his knife with some cloth.

The Duke of Arisnar stiffeled a yawn as he signed the last of the documents. He took the candle holder and left his study, greeting the guards in the elaborately decorated hall as he made his way to his bedroom.

"Goodnight, sir," a guard told him just before he closed the door behind him. The duke gave him a curt nod and locked the door behind him.

After he got changed in his closet, he got ready to go to bed.

"Took you some time." Sounded a voice from the shadowy corner of the room. It was a low, raspy voice.

"Who's there? How did ya get in here? Guards! Intruder!"

The figure in the corner let out a chuckle as he stepped forward. "Shouting is no use. I have woven a Silencing Weave around this room."

The figure was wearing a hood covering his face. In his one hand was a shining knife. With the other hand, he pulled down the hood, revealing long, raven-black hair with a couple of grey streaks. Hidden between his black locks were two horns, flat against his head. The man had vibrant green, cold, calculating eyes.

The man smiled, revealing his fangs. "Where are my manners? My name is Faelan, and you, good sir..." he said, pointing his knife at the duke, "...have a price on your head."

The duke took in the intruder's appearance and scowled. "You're one of those filth-bloods, aren't ya? Well, you won't get rid of me that easily."

A barely noticeable breeze swept across the room as the duke started to shape a Weave.

The blade flashed in the candlelight as Faelan flung it at his target, striking his target in the chest. The Weave faltered and dissipated. With two quick strides, Fealan crossed the distance between him and the duke, pressing his second blade against the man's throat.

"You're not the first Weaver I've dealt with," he whispered in the ear of the whimpering man. And with that, he slit the man's throat, stepping aside to not get too much blood on himself.

Faelan let out a sigh, letting all the pent-up stress go. He looked around him as he stood there in complete darkness. The candle that had been providing light had died after being dropped by the now equally dead duke. But he could still see perfectly well. Yet another perk of his part-Fae heritage, though it didn't weigh against the cons. Satisfied with the outcome of his mission, he retrieved his throwing knife, dispelled his Silencing Weave, opened one of the windows, and jumped out.

While in midair, he felt the familiar sensation of his mass rearranging itself wash over him, and just before he hit the ground, he flapped his wings as he soared back up in the form of a raven.

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Artemis sighed as she closed the door of her room.

"By the Ancients." She swore under her breath. She flopped onto her bed and stretched, groaning.

Then she heard something tapping on the window. Looking over, she saw a black raven with some grey feathers.

She smiled and got up. But as she made her way over to the window, she tripped over one of her many, many dressed scattered on the floor, and looking up, she could swear she could see the bird laugh. As she freed her feet from the dress, she opened the window.

"Tell anyone off this, and I will kill you..." She threatened as the bird hopped into the middle of the room and started to change. Its skin bubbled, and it grew in size. Within seconds, there stood a tall man clad in a black tunic with a black cloak wrapped around his shoulders.

"Wouldn't dream of it, sister." Faelan chuckled as he reorganized his messy, long hair.

Artemis looked at her adopted half-Fae brother. She had always been jealous of his good looks and permanently tanned, perfect skin.

"You're staring." Faelan dryly noted as he re-adjusted his cloak. He spread his arms in a dramatic pose. "How do I look?"

Artemis looked him up and down, noting the blood on his tunic. "Like you just killed a man. Were you successful?"

Her brother scoffed. "Have I ever failed? Of course, I succeeded. I only had to take out three guards and The Mark."

"And pray to tell... why did you, the amazing, never failing, harbinger of death, Faelan Orion... decide to grace me with your presence?" She asked, giving him a mock curtsey.

Silence.

Then, they both burst out laughing.

"My, my. You still have that silver tongue of yours, Artemis. I just wanted to see how my big sister, the lady in waiting, was doing."

Artemis let out a very unladylike snort. "Right. I'm doing just fine. Tired as hell but fine. I had an entire day of Weaving practice, so I'm spent. So, if you wouldn't mind, you should get your feathery ass over to Father while I get some sleep."

"I'll take my leave," Faelan said, bowing. "Have a good night. See you in the morning?"

"See you in the morning." Artemis agreed as Faelan closed the door and made his way to the Guildmaster's office.

===================

As Faelan strolled through the empty halls of his father's mansion, He thought of one of the guards he had killed that night. He could have just slipped past him. Then he shook his head, causing his shoulder-length hair to get disorganized again.

You can't start thinking like that, he told himself. If you had let him go, he could have raised the alarm. You know how most humans are. Always suspicious of everything and full of self-doubt. By killing that guard, you went in and left without a trace.

With a nod of self-reassurance, he stopped in front of the doors of his father's office. He took a deep breath in and out and knocked.

"Come in!" a deep voice boomed.

As Faelan stepped into the dimly lit office, he noticed a few new things since he was last there. Mostly, his father, Talvar Orion was not the only one in the room. On the opposite side of his dad's desk sat a hooded figure.

Instinctively, Faelan's hands went to his daggers, but his father raised his hands. "No need for that, Faelan. Please, have a seat."

As Faelan sat down, he rearranged his cloak so the blood on his tunic would be less visible, his eyes seeking those of the guild master for an answer. Talvar just gestured for him to go on.

"I succeeded in my mission," Faelan said hesitantly, eyeing the figure next to him, and placed the duke's sigil ring on the desk. There were a couple of blood spatters visible on the gold.

Talvar grunted in approval. "Very good. Faelan, son, you make me proud. You make the Brotherhood of Ashes proud."

Faelan bowed his head. "Thank you, Father. Ashes to Ashes."

"Dust to Dust." His dad finished, then cleared his throat. "Faelan, I'd like you to meet our new benefactor and an old acquaintance of mine. He's here to provide you with a new Mark."

Faelan arched an eyebrow. "Okay... Who is it? The Mark, I mean. I understand the need to stay anonymous as a benefactor."

The hooded man suddenly laughed. "You trained this one well, Talvar. I'm impressed."

He pulled down his hood, revealing the head of a bald man wearing a blindfold. "My name is Aaron Blindsight. I'm from the kingdom of Grenn and am here to mark the entire royal family of Grenn for assassination."