An explosion of movement erupted from the branches above her, and a dark figure plummeted from the sky. It landed in front of her and thrust her to the ground with lightning speed. She hit the earth with a thud and desperately gasped for air. The assailant jumped on top of her and pressed her body into the rocky ground. Xylia struggled weakly under the weight as she tried to clear her garbled mind, but it was no use on either count. The thing was too heavy, and the collision blurred her vision. When her head cleared, she found unnatural golden eyes looming before her. The overflowing hatred in those irises mesmerized her. The figure turned its head, and Xylia caught a glimpse of his chiseled face and hazardous teeth.
She’d always thought the stories of the half-human, half-animal assassins working for the Sauri Du were nothing more than fictional creatures her uncle concocted to scare her into staying inside. Seeing the creature before her, her doubts vanished. The realization redoubled her thrashing, and she swung at him as soon as she got an arm free.
He caught her fist and pinned it. “Be still!” he snarled.
She sensed the tone was designed to strike fear in his prey, but she only felt pounding anger. A hot, burning anger that made her eyesight hazy and her breath come in shallow gulps.
Xylia glowered. “Get off me, or I’ll scream. There’s a horde of armed guards nearby.”
The halfer barked out a cruel laugh. “Go ahead. By the time they arrive, you’ll be dead, and I’ll be gone,” he whispered darkly as he drew back his other clawed hand.
“Is this a mugging? I only have the dress on my back, but I will grudgingly trade if it fits your fancy.” She eyed his tattered garments with a smirk. “Although I must say, I don’t think it’s your color.”
Confusion muddled his face and halted his assault.
“I’m not here to strip you, foolish girl. I’m here to kill you.”
She wasn’t surprised. Her uncle portrayed halfers as murdering beasts. But she much preferred him talking over attacking. She couldn’t believe a fairy-tale monster would assail her out of nowhere with her chance at freedom only three weeks away.
“Kill me? Why would you want to do that?”
“I never said I wanted to kill you. I said I was going to kill you. It’s not my decision. I just follow orders,” he growled.
She gasped as he dug his claws into her shoulder. Bright droplets of blood appeared.
“Who ordered you to kill me?”
He ignored her and pressed his claws deeper into her shoulder before lunging for her throat. Xylia clenched her eyes shut and awaited the blow, but the assassin’s claws wavered a mere centimeter from her neck. His breath danced across her skin like a gentle autumn wind ruffling the leaves. He pulled away, looking perplexed, as if he’d forgotten what he was doing mid-action. Xylia sensed him studying her in a new way. As chaos roiled behind his eyes, he continued to stare, an intense internal struggle going on inside him. The change surprised Xylia.
Maybe the universe agrees I deserve to live a little longer?
She considered shoving him off while he was distracted, but he’d easily kill her if she tried. Still, she knew she had to do something. The assassin above her seemed petrified, and sunlight was beginning to cascade through the treetops. She had to get back to her room soon, or she might as well be dead.
“I don’t have time to sit here all day and watch your internal struggle. What do you want to do? If you’re going to kill me, do it already. If not, leave me alone!”
Her sudden exclamation made him jump. His mouth dropped open, and he gaped at her in surprise, as if he couldn’t believe his ears. He blinked twice before his mouth snapped shut and he quickly hopped off her. To Xylia’s great shock, he then offered his hand to assist her off the ground. After a momentary hesitation, she accepted it. He muttered an apology, stared at her for a few milliseconds in befuddlement, and vanished into the forest. She watched him go in absolute disbelief.
What…just happened?
Sighing, she checked her wounded shoulder. Her dress was torn and bloodstained, but she could hide the injury from her guardians without issue.
“So much for relaxing in the peaceful forest,” she muttered as she made her way back to the secret entrance.
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With stunned incomprehension, Ash stared at his claws. He felt like he’d been in a trance. Like his actions had not been his own. He’d never spared a target before, and he knew his decision to let Xylia Lovec live couldn’t stand. The divines had marked her for death.
Why didn’t I kill her?
He avoided the memory of the encounter itself and instead tried to think of logical reasons for his actions. Selfish reasons. Any reason. Fabricating a tale was better than the truth: in the moment, an invisible force had gripped his heart and stopped him. He knew he’d technically done nothing wrong. Halflings didn’t usually complete a job in one day, and since no one would know, there wouldn’t be any repercussions.
Perhaps it was too easy. I enjoy the hunt too much to have killed her so quickly. Drawing it out saves me from boredom.
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Satisfied with that answer, he headed home. Even though he was faster than the average person, he decided to take his time to synchronize his return with the setting sun. With perfect timing, he ducked through the camouflaged entrance to the fortress just as fiery orange light bathed the trees.
Drums rumbled in the distance, growing louder as he walked through the empty halls. Howls and guttural cries filled the space. He turned a corner and quietly opened a heavy wooden door. As soon as he turned the knob, rhythmic pounding pulsed through his veins and vibrated against his bones. His furry ears flattened while his eyes adjusted to the swirling smoke and dim light. No one noticed him slip in amongst the crowd. Red and black tapestries adorned the walls, and hooded figures lining the perimeter of the gathering stoically beat their drums. On the platform before the worshiping masses, a man in elaborate silk robes emerged. The flickering candles obscured his face, but Ash knew it was his master, the Yarru of their coven. The pendant of the fox divine, with its unmistakable carnelian and white agate inlay, glinted in the harsh light and betrayed his identity. He stared at them solemnly for some time before suddenly raising his hand. The room silenced in response.
“Behold, on the sacred day of Garodor, we gather here to cleanse this place with the blood of the deities.” He made a dramatic motion for one of Ash’s brethren to step forward.
The percussion resumed as the dark figure approached and with some difficulty, deposited a bound crocodile on the large stone altar. Ash almost felt pity for the halfling who’d been selected to secure the sacrifice.
Of the thirteen divine animals represented in the wooden carvings along the walls the Sauri Du worshiped, the bear, crocodile, and porcupine were the most unpleasant to collect. On occasion, his master would demand a lion or wolf instead of a dog or cat if the halfer in question had offended him in some manner. They all knew the halfling chosen to fetch one of these alpha sacrifices was being punished with the task of capturing it alive. Rats, snakes, deer, foxes, spiders, rabbits, lizards, and hawks took some skill and patience to capture, but one could expect to succeed without injury if cautious. His master produced a long dagger with an onyx blade and pulled back his hood. Although he normally wore his fox mask, he did not during the ceremony.
“With this divine lesser spirit, we cleanse this temple and beg your blessings for our fight against the impure. Deliver the non-believers to our feet and let their blood soak this land and purify it. Let your followers rise to power with your blessing and cast those who have oppressed us into the eternal void of damnation.”
He raised the knife high and plunged the blade into the squirming reptile. Then, after dipping his fingers into the fresh blood, he pressed the tips to his forehead. Without a word, the other halflings and the cultists formed a line, and their master brushed their foreheads with the crimson liquid. Ash joined the end of the silent procession. When his turn came, he closed his eyes and received his mark with bated breath. He didn’t feel purified, though. He felt guilty. An image of the girl’s emerald eyes invaded his mind. He returned to his position in the back in shame. After everyone in attendance was marked, his master hefted up the ceremonial container that had, thanks to the altar’s unique sloped design, collected the rest of the crocodile’s blood.
“May you bless this blood, and let it spread through the land,” he said while sealing the jar.
The halflings in the room turned to file out of the side door. As they passed the crocodile, each one touched the corpse in gratitude for its sacrifice. Ash was the last one to reach the altar. After he gave his thanks, he made a beeline for the exit.
“Ash, wait,” his master commanded.
Ash’s gut twisted as he turned back.
“Was your mission completed?”
Ash’s heart jumped into his throat, and he struggled to maintain a neutral expression.
Does he know what happened?
“No. I watched their security patterns all day,” he said. “Their defense is formidable. It may take me some time to find an opening and exploit it.”
“Ash.” His master sneered. “This is not a very difficult job, but it is an important one.”
Despite his master’s attempt to appear casual, Ash detected an interesting streak of panic in the Yarru’s voice. Usually, his master wanted him to take his time with his assignments and do the job correctly.
“I must prepare for my task, so it goes smoothly. I still need to identify a way in.”
Truthfully, he hadn’t even set eyes on the mansion yet. He’d spotted the girl on his way there and was much too distracted afterward to do anything mission related. Ash doubted the mansion security would be a problem, but he didn’t want his master knowing that.
His master’s eyes gleamed in the candlelight. “Fine. But I want the job done by the end of the week.”
Ash groaned inside. He was hoping he could drag the job out. He shivered uncomfortably as he remembered the unsettling sensation that had held him back from finishing her. It felt like ice had encased his muscles.
“Of course,” he said.
Ash retreated from the temple and traveled back up the stairs to his room. It was little more than a closet with a cot, but he’d fought tooth and nail to be the occupant of the cramped space because it was one of the only rooms with roof access through the small window on the far wall. With haste, Ash crawled through the window and maneuvered out to his favorite spot in the shadow of a big oak tree a few feet from the edge of the fortress roof. He took a deep breath and peered into the dark sky above. He tried not to think about his actions earlier that day, but they came back to haunt him anyway.
The girl’s calm demeanor bothered him. He’d been assigned dozens of assassinations. He’d slaughtered men, women, and children alike, all without hesitation. As a halfling, it was his sole purpose in life. He didn’t care whether his targets lived or died; it was just his job.
He sat for a moment, pondering the girl’s odd question from earlier. What do I want?
No one had ever asked him such a thing before. No one cared about what he wanted.
He was a soldier and living testament to the glory of the Sauri Du, and it was his duty to snuff out all non-believers. He tried to imagine the girl’s vibrant green eyes cold and lifeless. Frozen in death like all his other victims. The thought made him grimace. Thankfully, a soft rap at the door to his room dragged him from his thoughts.
Ash flew through the open window just in time as his master’s maid came in with his dinner.
She was terrified of him. Her smile was friendly, but he could sense her dread in the scent of her perspiration and her skittish body language. It was understandable. She was, like all his master’s servants, a halfling, but she was half rabbit. Her submissive characteristics made her an exemplary maid; however, ordering her to serve a feline halfling was a poor pairing. With an air of arrogance, Ash circled her, smirking at her discomfort. The fake kindness dropped away, and the maid quickly fled. Ash frowned. The encounter was proof enough he was still an intimidating predator. But Xylia hadn’t been the least bit afraid. She’d looked at him like a puzzle that needed solving instead of as a fearsome beast. He heard her voice drifting through his mind again.
“What do you want?”
He growled in frustration and flexed his claws. I want to strike fear into her heart, he thought, and since I must kill her, frightening her shouldn’t be a problem.