“Look around you, Elucard,” whispered Legion, “The forest seems quiet, doesn’t it? But listen closer. Shadows creep along the grass like cracks on an old stone wall. Roots break through the soil with their thick, armored tendrils. However, the roots are not without vulnerability. Termites and other small creatures chew into this tough hide to build their homes. Everything is intertwined. Nature rests on the delicate balance between life and death. It is a volatile scale, prone to wild and unpredictable swings. When the scale tips in the favor of life, death must relieve it of this excess weight. This is our role, Elucard. We are the hand of death.” Legion sat on a thick branch, cutting into his apple with a small throwing knife. The nectar of the fruit dribbled down the bright red flesh and down to the forest floor. The mentor tossed a slice to his pupil, “Do you understand the importance of the task at hand? We are not simple thugs and killers. We are keepers of that balance; a necessity.”

Elucard examined the apple slice. The edge was clean, thus he knew the blade Legion used to cut it was sharp. He popped it into his mouth and savored the fresh taste. It had been six months since he was taken under Legion’s wing. His master made it a point to further his training on the basics, but he made sure to also educate him in academics and philosophy.

A blade is only as sharp as the Rabbit wielding it.

Elucard nodded, “A flower in a bed of weeds does not grow.”

Legion tossed Elucard another slice, “You understand what that means for you, right?”

Elucard shrugged, casually, “Got to pull some weeds.”

Legion grinned, but slid his face into a stern look, “Are you prepared for that task?”

Elucard plucked a leaf from the branch over his head.

“I'll do what it takes.”

His master looked at him coolly, tossing him another slice of the apple.

“What if I asked you to kill one of your peers? Would you hesitate or would you give them the chance to run?”

Elucard raised an eyebrow at the question. This didn’t seem to be a philosophy discussion anymore, what was his master trying to get at?

“Another Rabbit, Master?”

“No, not quite; another recruit.”

Another recruit was still a Rabbit to Elucard. Although it had been nearly half a year since he’d seen any of the other recruits, he still felt like he was a part of that group. However, what if this was a test? What if not all marks were so simply laid out? What if the circumstances were more than black and white? Elucard pondered more. Legion interjected, as he watched his pupil think.

“My student, the Blood Forest, is fast approaching. You will be pitted against your fellow recruits and in a sanctioned trial such as this. You may have to take the life of a peer. You will be judged on your cunning, prowess, stealth, and most of all, your ability to take a life.”

Elucard looked up, trying to imagine such a test, “The Blood Forest?” he asked.

Legion continued, “An eight mile stretch of twisted, gnarled woods with a canopy so dense that it is unfathomably dark. It is the perfect battlefield for a young recruit to prove they are ready to truly become a Rabbit. All recruits will be released within the Blood Forest and will be encouraged to kill or be killed. It will take all that you’ve learned to survive. So, my student, are you prepared to take a life?”

“If they are prepared to die, I will grant them a death.”

“I assure you, they will not be prepared to die.”

Elucard paused, “I shall grant them a death all the same.”

Legion smiled, “Very well, young student. Now, what of the weeds?”

“What of them? I’ll do what it takes.”

Legion gestured to a plume of smoke through a line of trees. Elucard focused his elven eyes. His eyes were more perceptive now than when he was living in Ravenshore. Legion had trained them. Now all of his senses had been heightened.

A blade is only as sharp as the Rabbit wielding it.

The crisp dusk air nipped at his ears. Elucard looked at Legion as he pulled up his hood, “A camp?”

“A weed.”

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Legion beckoned Elucard to follow as he jumped to the neighboring branches leading to the camp.

A fire blazed under skewers poking into a few skinned squirrels. A ragged man with a filthy black and gray beard crawled from his makeshift tent. The shelter was as tattered as his clothes and both reeked of a foul odor. It stunk of a life full of failures.

The two assassins perched in an overhanging tree whispering to each other. Their voices were low; too low for a normal man to hear, but high enough for a trained ear to hear. A tongue the Black Rabbits had perfected.

Legion lightly touched Elucard's shoulder, “You are to kill this man. You are to make it quick, silent, and clean. This man has suffered a lifetime of anguish. His death does not need to be cruel.”

Elucard gripped the leather bound handle of his sword. He gritted his teeth as he pulled up his mask to the bridge of his nose.

“May Alanna grant you grace,” Legion's voice wove into Elucard's mind – a mind now heavy with a sense of duty, and a sense of fear.

Not a fear of whether he would be caught or punished for failure, a fear that this would change him forever. Was he ready to go the distance? Was he ready to spill blood? Legion had him practice killing deer, but deer were different from people.

Elucard dropped down silently into the campground. The long shadow of the tree hid his presence. Staying light and using the front padding of his feet to cautiously feel out for twigs that could give away his presence, Elucard stalked behind the vagabond. The rookie assassin's blade quivered as it crept along the back of the homeless man's neck. The cold steel rested coolly sending a tingling shiver down the victim's spine.

“Please,” a voice squeaked, “I've got nothing worth stealing. I don't want to die,” the man wept.

Elucard froze. Deer never begged for their life. This man wanted to live. Elucard's hands now held more than a sword. They held this man's life.

The man slowly turned, his eyes red with tears, snot ran from his nose, the man blubbered as he formed his words, “I ain't never hurt no one. Please…”

Elucard withdrew his sword, his head lowered as his heart sank. He called to Legion, “Master, I can't kill an innocent life, this man is no weed.”

Legion dropped by the side of his student, making no sound, “My student, not every innocent life has a purpose in this world. He serves no one but himself. He has no attachments. He loves no one and no one loves him. Give his life meaning, Elucard. Allow the starving wolves to feed on his carcass. Let the grubs devour his flesh. Let the soil take his bones. Let Alanna take his soul. Restore balance. Answer the call, my student!”

Elucard's grip on his blade strengthened. His eyes shut tightly. He hefted his blade into the air, but Legion halted his motion.

“No, open your eyes. You must bear witness to your deeds.”

Elucard snapped open his eyes, sweat beads dripped off his soaked mask. This was the moment that would forever change his life. The fear of what he would become would now be a reality. Legion's teachings cycled through his head.

A flower in a bed of weeds does not grow.

However, in this case, he was the flower. His fear was the weeds. His blade was the gardener. Killing this man would free him. Free him from fear, free him to flourish. The man's cries broke his thoughts.

“Why are you doing this?”

Flashes of Ravenshore gushed through his mind like the white rapids of a river that flowed into the ocean on which Ravenshore sat. Images of his parents seemed to be within reach, but as he went to approach them, they began to walk away. The faster Elucard ran, he still could not catch up to them.

‘Wait, please, Ma, Pa, stay with me!’

No matter how hard he tried to get to them, his touch was just shy of his parents. Elucard stopped, alone in the void of his mind. Memories swirled around him like a drifting mist. Pictures of his childhood, his love for his friends and family, his friendship with Jetta ebbed about him.

Jetta.

The memories blew away and disintegrated like dead leaves in a harsh wind. All that was left was the tiny girl he once promised to always be there for.

Jetta, please, I’m sorry.

The girl’s head was lowered, her gaze did not meet the yearning of his own. She was silent, but in that silence Elucard struggled with himself, his promise, and his new path.

Beside him, a new figure appeared. Legion. The assassin did not look at him, but simply put his hand on Elucard’s shoulder.

Elucard, this life is no more, it stagnates your mind. It is a waste of thought. Memories like this will only stall your progression.

I can’t forget Jetta. Elucard’s mind echoed.

Then use her memory, let it push you, let it be a reminder of when you were innocent and weak. Use her as a milestone in your past to show yourself how far you’ve gone. Your memories have held you back. Instead, let them give you a boost up to the mountain that you’re trying to climb.

Elucard looked up to where Legion stood, but found he was now alone. No memories, no Jetta, no Legion…nothing. Yet, he didn’t feel alone. Was this how he was supposed to feel? Was this what he needed to fuel his drive? The drive to kill?

Once more, the voice of the vagabond cried out to Elucard, snapping him back to reality.

Elucard's voice was a whisper. As if he still was trying to convince himself more than the man, he said, “You have tipped the scales and I must restore the balance.”

A whipping sound sliced through the air as the man's head rolled onto the ground. The headless body dropped hard. Elucard let go of the sword. It seemed to weigh a hundred tons. His throat became thick and heavy, choking him as he held back the need to cry.

Legion put out the campfire, turning to smile at Elucard, “You did well. It seems you have what it takes to walk this path.”

Elucard was silent.