Greed steps into our realm and fit in just fine.
PROLOGUE
Five years ago.
DINN - BURNESHAL COMPOUND - 2000
Banging hard on the towering cobalt gates of Burneshal, the underground headquarters of an assassins’ guild. A click, tumbling gears and shake of massive rumbling chains. Did they open it because I’m alone? Following the successful invasion, I make my way deeper into the base, leaving a trail of chaos in my wake. It's cute that the residents here wear matching uniforms. I blend right in wearing my usual dark leather armor stretched tightly over my clothing, for a specific reason. Drenched in fresh blood, I stroll into the central room after finding the damned place in this trap ladened maze.
“Wha- have you come for my position? The startled man recovers his composure swiftly to a standing position, not expecting visitors, here of all places. HA! Many mortals have attempted the same foolishness in the past. Allow me to share this before your demise. The prophecy is duty, not reward.”
I take a sharp breath in, pulling essence from the abundance of shadows that cling and drape from every surface of the underground complex. Bending slightly at the legs and tilting the back, taut muscles spring to action. I exhale, launching my body at the human. I catapult forward, adding thrust to my leap with the expulsion of shadow essence, unsheathing mid-flight aiming two steady crisscrossing blades. Finding all their targets, running through the first, then second, piercing a meaty torso center mass, and third, one flashing moment before death literates the soul, my boot found his face catching the bulk of the momentum. A series of cracks echo across the large hall when the Assassin King’s skull clang against the rigid throne bolted to the floor.
Dinn unwittingly inherited the clan’s Ten Thousand Year Prophecy that translates to the effect of the following text;
The world will be plunged into another Portal War ten thousand years after the previous. Gain influence, serve the exalted one, protect the crest and prepare for calamity. The strongest assassin of the Quinnbia will wield the crest, a symbol of ancient stolen power, if humanity has any hope to survive this inherited debt.
—
Chapter 1
DINN - BURNESHAL COMPOUND - 200
“I quit.”
The Exalted Assassin Queen retires, no one even heard, all my enemies were dead and I never made any allies. Funny thing, the profession of stealth and murder isn’t conducive to making casual, friendly relationships. If I’m stressed or sad I have no one to tell, no one would ask over me, who would even know? I’m invisible, by trade, by talent, by creed, by cloak of shadow, unperceivable by the keenest eyes, unseen by prey, and obviously, everybody else too. Yeah, this stinks, I quit. This is getting ridiculous, and on my last nerves. I don’t have anyone to call for or do chores with, I eat alone, every day, every meal. Zero friends, and I haven’t touched a woman in years. Well, there was Justine F. of the Fenders’ clan. Slit her throat on Tuesday, most definitely a woman, touched her all over, but she was a mark. Now, she’s cut up in twenty pieces, scattered through the Everglades. Depressing, I’m officially retiring from the entire thing. Clink, clatter, bang, one after another, blades drop from hidden sheaths as I shake and jiggle the glimmering, well-maintained weapons lose. Lastly, with a flamboyant circular fling of the neck, my glittering crown bounces to roll into the crackling fireplace.
“You can’t quit!” Gerald, a bespectacled giant clad in dark robes, chases after.
“Madam there is nothing to retire from, you are the Exalted Queen of the Quinnbia until someone of greater combat power unseats you. The leader is assigned unlimited authority and grave responsibilities or unspeakable consequences, I know you know, will befall the world.”
“Thanks to fives years of constant reminders from my worthless assistant, I am rather aware.”
“I am a butler.”
“No, Gerald, you’re unemployed.”
“Master Dinn, the underworld whispers about you, the Shadow Reaper, leader of all assassins, guardian lord of Burneshal, Queen of Quinnbia, the undoubted answer to the thousand-year prophecy. How can you hope to escape any of these titles bestowed upon the guild's strongest Assassin? You killed the entire clan.”
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“I didn’t kill the entire clan, or where would the whispers originate? And you’re still alive, aren’t you?”
“The assassin clan’s hierarchy is determined solely by measures of combat strength, you cannot quit the position as you are automatically bestowed full dominion as the realm’s premier assassin”
“Hey moron, of which assassins’ clan do you speak of? You’re fired and I’m retired. The Quinnbia Assassins’ Guild is no more, and no one, as you point out, has the combat strength to tell me otherwise.”
Gerald, slowing his chase and his voice losing conviction, as the master has never been convinced of anything in the five years she spent running the clan into the ground.“But what about the prophecy?”
Waving off these concerns that no longer concerned me. “Who even understands that lunatic’s scribbles from almost ten thousand years ago”
Thinking I had it all, queen leader of an elite assassins’ club, vast riches compounded over thousands of years, world treasures, magic weapons, power, and influence. False idols and fools we are for chasing them. You know what doesn’t come with an assassin’s sign on package? Friends, companions to trust, lean on, and laugh with, or almost any real chance to meet women. The stakes are always so grossly high, filled with drama, as matters of life and death understandably invite. For once, I want to experience a casual, lighthearted adventure and collect cherished memories of life’s simpler pleasures. I understood the prophecy just fine, but why should I care about that crest?
Former Lord of Burneshal and ex-Exalted Queen of Quinnbia, Dinn “Damascus” Live, walks purposefully through the underground palace gates on her quest for friends and a new career. Gerald is left behind in a blur of dread and despair, standing frozen at the mouth of an empty compound.
—
DINN - MEADORA KINGDOM - 199
No weapons, a black tunic, black trousers, black boots, with a dark hood and a silver ring, that's the list of my earthly possessions. Looking up at the wide open sky, feeling free as a bird, absorbing everything of my journey’s beginnings. Holding in the excited urge to bounce, I travel a picturesque, winding dirt road. Perfumed with sweat, a familiar breeze visits me but brought a brand-new level of refreshment, no doubt enhanced by my recently discarded responsibilities. I sat beneath the first tree we’ve seen in half a day's walk.
Pointing to a spot on the ground. “Stand there.”
Gerald steps into the spot directed, as a ray of sunlight peeking through the tree is cut off from its assault on pristine pale skin.
I motion my arm and a water sack appears in my palm. Water tastes better when carried by someone else. “What did you bring to eat?”
Gerald pulls out a bento box with rice, omelet rolls and cut sausage. “Pray tell, where are we going?”
These buzzing questions aren’t enough to faze my bliss. Chewing the home cooked meal meditatively, leaking little satisfied moans. Scrumptious, delightful, I wonder if it would upset him to know this culinary talent, above his many violent deadly abilities, is the real reason I will never kill him. I’d kiss him if he wasn't so ugly"
“Madam, would you mind sharing your thoughts on our plan?”
Focusing on picking up the omelet without breaking the rectangle egg structure with the chopsticks.
“Might I suggest we run, north, as fast as possible?”
Gerald continues to prod, reflexively holding a half bowed position.
“Sinotan**, this path leads to the main road.” I rewarded him with the answer for the lunch box.
“What for? What could Sinotan do for us now? What could anyone do? Nobody in that entire city is prepared for what’s to come!”
I finish the last few grains of rice, leaving a perfectly clean bento box. “You're losing that famous composure of yours.”
“I’m an assassin, I am not famous for anything.”
“Thought you were a butler? Anyway, thanks for the meal, Gerald. I’m going to Sinotan because I’ve never seen it. Isn’t that weird? International assassin at the top of her game, never visiting the capital of Sin, I heard rumors of a lively nightlife scene and the best foods our land has to offer.” Glowing over my boring and wholly regular daydreams, already helping me forget my gruesome past.
I stand up and continue following no real path, apart from this dirt one, for now. “Why are you following me? Get lost.”
**Two great kingdoms split the realm of Terra by halves in perfect balance, Meadora of the east and Tonada of the west. Sinotan is the capital city where over half the citizens of the Great Meadora Kingdom reside.
A few bandit groups approached the two travelers throughout their days of walking, to be quickly murdered and tossed behind nondescript trees along the forest edge.
—