This beginning could not wait.
For my readers, who are worth the hours...

The poisoned blade of assassin steel twirled between gloved fingers.

A cloaked figure in deep red and black slouched in a central chair. Waiting and watching. Their numbers had increased once more. As Vayleron had begun its valuable export of iron ore to the scorched land it had brought in riches both in item and labour. Hungry eyes wanted a cut of the purse but none of the skill set to do so.

The guild of Assassins held a specialised skillset in Vayleron. The true keepers of power when the political heads needed to be rebalanced... or decapitated.

The guild need not demand respect, they were known for their lethality and efficiency. The ones who were ignorant or arrogant enough to attempt to compete were silenced. Only a handful have ever contended and lived to this day. A handful that had shaken the very core of the guild throughout the city. The ones that had made a mockery of the Master himself before bringing him to an end leagues from the keep. Some say that it was witchcraft that day. That the Three Lions had armed themselves with a twisted and dark power. Some tell that men fell into heaps of ash before their hand. That there was nothing human inside the ones that waged a war against the guild. The day would soon come to right such an unholy act. To cleanse the realm of the dark magic. Under the command of the Assassins newest Master the reckoning would be hastened.

The oak doors on the far end of the stone hall swung open. It made the flamed torches flicker in the air. Long boots strode down the plush maroon carpet and a man pulled back his assassin's cloak to reveal a pale pair of blue eyes with an old red scar marring half his cheek. He was one such man that told of dark tales. Of power not from this realm that scorched across his face and combusted men to dust completely.

A set of daggers sat on either side of his hips and a number of other concealed blades lay out of sight.

"Guild Master." His low voice uttered as he dropped to a knee. His long black hair tumbled past his cheek as he did so.

"You bring me something of use?" The Master said quietly.

"I do. The traders escorting the Three Lions to Zanos returned to Vayleron's port last sundown. We have the Captain." He informed the hooded figure as he returned to his feet.

"What of the Odians?"

"Gossip spread that a wreckage was seen leagues South of the Uccel––"

"I do not have the luxury of indulging gossip, Artemis. What did you get out of the Captain?"

"We... It took a moment to sober him." Artemis responded with a frown. He swiftly switched his weight onto his other leg. "When he was lucid we discovered the Lions fled the trader's ship as soon as they docked in Zanos ten spans ago. From there the Odians pursued but it was the last contact they had with them."

"How is it that the Odians were then found in a wreckage leagues off of our shoreline?" The master asked with lethal calm.

Artemis paled now and racked his brain to avoid the scrutiny.

But the Master simply raised a black gloved hand. Then stood and dropped back the heavy hood. Hair was held high in an intricate formation of dark red braids, meeting at the middle and flowing down past her shoulders in waves. She descended the stone steps slowly and a few of her personal guard tensed in anticipation.

Artemis however, froze in place.

As she neared he dipped his head. She moved forward and placed a hand on the side of his face. He dared not flinch.

"I think we are missing something here." She said softly.

He dropped her a rigid nod. Watching her with his pale blue eyes, while her own watched back in a dark bronze shade.

"The most formidable warship in the realm does not just... fall apart to any storm. It was a formidable adversary at play." She whispered the last part. "I do not want gossips, I do not want rumours, I want you, Artemis, to pay off every seafaring wretch to find out who or what ended the Bear Clan. When you find this out for me I want to know where they went. Do you see how my mind is working?" He just nodded rapidly. She smiled sweetly at him.

"Good, because if you think of insulting me with more useless information again I will have you swing from the market at first light." She finished, dropping his chin and turning on her heel.

Artemis almost tripped into a bow before making a hasty retreat.

"Oh, Artemis?" The Master called before he could lay his hand on the doors. He turned to see her lounging in throne once more. "Dispose of the trader's Captain please. No loose ends."

He bowed once more with more composure before pushing open the heavy wooden doors and releasing the breath he had held for the last ten slithers. One must be careful. It was all too easy to become a loose end among assassins...

— A N S E L L E —

The rains continued to keep the citizens of Vayleron in their homes. A fortune in its own right.

The most recent meat sack I had extracted information from had given me the location of a black market. A hollow in which I could gather the items I truly needed to begin this bloody crusade. The Jester's Drawers.

The wound on my side was now a distant memory and the short sword on my back had only just lost its crimson coating in the rain. I pushed open a weathered door to a furniture store. The old man behind the counter of the shameful wares plucked at the dry pages of parchment before him. The place was empty and held nothing but the sound of the rain outside. His attention had not found me in the doorway but it soon would.

I made my steps quick before I let my short sword fall onto the table unceremoniously and leant against it. The man glanced at it and rolled his eyes. I chuckled.

"Ah yes, a mortal that has seen all too much of such things." I murmured.

He pinched his brow at my words before clearing his throat. "Lady, either you purchase something here or leave me to my own devices."

I gave him a slow smile. "Oh good sir, I will be well on my way once I get what I came for."

He rubbed his fingers before me in suggestion of payment. But instead of the custom he had grown far too used to I paid him in a different currency. He screamed when my sword slashed a rapid arch through his finger and it fell to the table before us. His pages now painted in a stark splash of red. He staggered away from me looking around frantically.

I picked up his finger and pointed it back at him. "Not an intelligent move on your end. This could have been much more civil..." I told him as I walked closer.

"Wha–what do you want? The market is below! I have no coin here!" He pleaded as he stumbled into a bookshelf behind and grasped a hand against it.

"Where." Was all I said.

But he did something only a desperate mortal would do. He grasped what his hand sought behind him and aimed a curved sword for my head. I rolled my eyes as I dismissed the blade in a half parry before thrusting it into his stomach.

"I can keep you alive for a long time or a short time. Where is the market, mortal?" I growled into his face as blood leaked from his mouth down his chin.

"Th–the pain-ting." He gasped between gurgles.

"Was that so–" I removed the sword and drove it under his chin. "–difficult?"

He dropped to the ground instantly dead. I stepped over him and briskly wiped the sword over his back. Repulsive. When I rounded the corner I almost lost the will with this realm. The glaringly obvious Jester leered at me with a smile from a floor to ceiling painting. It was beyond me how the city guard had not seen through this. They could burn it to the ground for all I cared when I took what I needed from within... in fact it was not a bad idea.

Without hesitation I cut straight through the centre and stepped through to the darkened stairs below. I was retracing quite the steps from dear, sweet Tayah. How little she realised I had of her past. Of her mind when I held it with the relic of Hades. Every moment, every past was mine to use. An endless pool of knowledge to take from and use against my enemy. Every mortal that fell to my hand, every being that had been touched by her existence was to be wiped away.

By the time she realises her errors she will be too lost in her own rage to see anything but the blood in my wake. The lives taken. The powerlessness to stop me unless she returns to the realm and brings that obedient dog with her.

I cared not who followed me or who alerted them when they realised their safe little hole was no longer so. I cared not when the guard and the guilds learned of the bodies that had begun to fall so carelessly within their city walls.

It would soon be too late for any of them.