The slamming of a nearby door made Thomas's eyes bolt open. Reaching for his pistol, he quickly cocked it and looked around the room while sitting up. Seeing nothing, he cringed when the sound of dishes shattering on nearby walls made it to his room. Thomas looked to his door concerned. What the hell is going on out there? He thought, silently getting out of bed and looking at the doorway. 

"I don't know anybody by that description sir, please don't break anything else!" Barry cried out loud enough that Thomas could hear him. The sound of a chair splintering echoed through the room. "Please sir, I don't know anything! The only  person who came in yesterday was an old beggar looking for a handout!" 

A deep earthy voice cracked out, sending shivers down Thomas's spine. "I know for a fact that he is here peasant. I heard your voice on the device while the bait was dangling. His commanding officer tried to warn him away, that's when I no longer needed the bait. After the explosion, his coms were destroyed. I tracked him to this village, and to you. Now tell me where he is, and I might let you live.

"There's nobody here but me!" Barry cried out again, his voice panicked. "I'm not lying, search the grounds if you want, but there's nobody here!" Another dish shattered, making Thomas close his eyes and sigh softly. 

Thank you Barry... Thomas thought to himself as he crept across the floorboards and opened the back window. The sound of heavy footsteps began to echo towards his room as he hopped out the back window. The second he got onto the dead grass outside, he shut the window as quietly as he could. The door was smashed open, sending it flying down into the room as Thomas held his breath. 

"You don't need to be so rough with the doors!" Barry whined as the thumping footsteps started inside. "See there isn't anybody here, I haven't done anything wrong!" 

"Then why is the bed not made like the rest of them?" The guttural voice of the Cantorian asked, his pitch rising slightly. "Do you think me a fool?" He asked, his deep voice cracking and grinding like walking over gravel. 

"No sir!" Barry replied, "I use this room only for the most discriminating of customers who wish only to use it for a night with company of a man or woman of the night! There was an older man here a few days ago who asked to use it. I hadn't had the time to clean up the room yet, after my wife's murder, I have been busy trying to prepare for her funeral. I lit the fire to remove the smell of his chamber pot that he spilled over the floor and was going to tidy up when you came in!" 

The sound of bones cracking and a body hitting the floor echoed out the window making Thomas close his eyes, slowly letting out the breath he had been holding. "I know you are here Thomas, this man just gave his life for you. Give me the journal before any more are forced to die for you." Thomas took a soft breath and squeezed his pistol grip tightly. "I can hear you Thomas!" The Cantorian mocked, grinding laughter echoed as his footsteps started closer. "Are you going to hide like a coward, or will you die honorably?"

An older gentleman in a simple cotton garb seemed to appear from around the corner and started towards Thomas and covered his lips with one finger. Thomas tried to wave him away, but the man continued towards Thomas, holding a large blue cylinder in his hands. The old man indicated for Thomas to cover his ears, but he was wearing his helmet, so he couldn't. The old man pulled the pin on the large object, counting backwards from three silently then tossed the small object into the window. Thomas looked at the old man surprised as he covered his ears just before an ear-splitting bang echoed through his helmet and sent vibrations through his entire body. Most of the sound had been canceled by his helmet, but it was loud none the less. "Let's go metal boy, that will only distract Sarthon for a few minutes at best." He reached forward and grabbed Thomas's metal hand and began running faster than any older man should.  

"Who the hell are you?" Thomas questioned between breaths as he pulled his hand away and followed the man towards a sprawling forest that seemed to consume the landscape in front of him. 

The older man quickly plugged his ears again, continuing his stride in silence as a violent guttural scream burst out from the inn. The glass on Thomas's monitor shattered, making him gasp as the glass fell away from his suit. "I'll explain everything later, right now you need to follow my every step if you want to live past breakfast!" The older man explained as he sprinted ahead into the treeline, quickly beginning to weaving between the trees. 

What the hell is he doing? Thomas thought as he tried to mimic the man's footsteps. "Why are we weaving, we should be running a straight line!" 

"You ask a lot of questions, don't you boy. There are land mines buried all through this forest, nobody who hasn't been here before can survive them." The old man replied as they ran deeper into the forest. A large hovel slowly came into view as they weaved around tree's and through small bushes. "There we go, we're almost home!" A large explosion and a furious roar echoed through the forest, sending birds in every direction. "Looks like our friend found one of them!" He chuckled, slowing his pace slightly as they reached the wooden hovel. 

"Okay, not to sound ungrateful or anything old man, but who the hell are you? How did you know how to stun that Cantorian?" Thomas demanded as he looked at the man, their pace slowing to a walk. His face seemed ancient, the wrinkles all ran together, and when his chocolate brown eyes moved, the bags under his eyes became prominent. 

"I am but an old man with many sins to pay for." The older man replied with a tired smile. "However if you're stupid you may have read about me already. My name is Alex." Thomas instantly grew weary of the man, his gut telling him to be careful as he aimed the gun at Alex's head. "Now now, no need to get all riled up."

"How do you know about the journal?" Thomas demanded as his a knot began to form in his stomach. 

Alex let out a weak sigh and wandered over towards the edge of his hovel, seemingly unphased by the gun. "You know, that journal has been around longer than you've been alive. I would be more careful with it. That pouch on your chest is not the safest of places for something of its age. I heard it crashing against the sides of the space as we left out friend back there." He let out a weak chuckle and sat down, starting to stretch his arms.

"How do you know about the journal?" Thomas repeated as he drew closer to Alex, the gun still trained on him. 

Another laugh began to vibrate off Alex as he cracked a few of his weathered knuckles. "Not a very bright one are you? Perfect, I  went out of my way to rescue the damsel, but all I got was a grunt with a gun trained on me!" Looking away from Thomas, he rolled his eyes and lifted up his leg, setting it over his other leg to pick off bits of vegetation that had stuck to his robe. "I'll try and put this as simple as possible. My name is Alex, and I've been looking for that book since before you were born. I am not your enemy, so I would appreciate if you put the gun down. "

Slowly lowing the gun, Thomas glared at Alex as he picked the small pieces of life from the cloth on his leg. "So you are claiming to be old really old, I can see the wrinkles, but nobody has been able to live past one hundred years. How old do you claim to be?" He questioned as he slowly removed his ruined helmet with his free hand.

"Oh goodness, age..." Alex replied, thinking back as he stretched his neck out, popping it sickeningly loud in each direction. "I would guess I am close to to the thousands at this point. I was born back when the two continents were seven! If you count the poll's that is." Alex looked at Thomas and smirked as he coddled his broken helmet. "Honestly, I'm surprised you managed to get away with your life after the first encounter with Sarthon. He wasn't in any real danger. That bombing run would have bothered his ears a little bit, but he can outrun anything that he can hear. He must have been called off at the last minute. I wonder if he's working with one of the other Cantorian's...?"

"Others?" Thomas questioned, looking up at him concerned. "I thought all the others were over on the homeland causing havoc?" 

"I would assume they are, but they usually work in sync with their lutenists. That was probably why you managed to get away. That bombing run would have killed his little friend, so he went and got him." Alex explained as he stood up and began to pace. "If Sarthon is here, then the Flara know you have the journal. That's most unfortunate for you, so how do we move forward. I wonder if-"

"Can you stop rambling for a few seconds and answer my questions?" Thomas demanded as he aimed the gun at Alex. "I don't mean to demand, but I don't have a lot of time. See unlike you, I am trying to protect my homeland. I-"

"You think I'm not doing the same? Boy, I have been protecting my homeland since before your grandparents were even a thought!" Alex snapped back, a malicious scowl on his face. "You bother me, be quiet and let me think little flea before I silence you." Thomas aimed the gun at Alex's head and cocked it. He turned and looked over to Thomas annoyed. "You really think a bullet is going to stop me? I'm older than the gunsmith that conceived the peashooter you're holding! If you think that will scare me, then you have another thing coming!" Alex took a step forward and snatched the gun with surprising force and disassembled it in a matter of seconds, leaving the pieces scattered on the ground in front of him. "Now let me think before I reassemble that piece of crap and use it on you!" He growled as he began to pace. 

Thomas stood in awe of the man in front of him. How the hell did he get my gun? No person has taken my weapon like that since my days at the academy! Thomas thought as he looked at the dissembled gun. I didn't even see his hands moving when he took the gun apart! Who the hell is this man? He thought, looking back up to Alex as he paced to and fro. I wonder if I could get him to tell me more about the journal?  Maybe he-

"Hey kid, how much have you read of that book." Alex barked, pulling Thomas from his thoughts.

"I read up until the ripped pages where Paul had been accepted into the Mantine people of assassin's or whatever they were called." Thomas answered with a curious look. "Why, should I keep reading?" 

"Well since you have the journal you're already a dead man. You should at least know why the Flara leaders want you dead. I made sure the last time I had the journal to remove any critical details of where the castle was, so it's not any risk for you to read it. Do whatever you want, if you do end up reading the journal, I ask you do it inside. The rain is coming, and that book is very brittle. The hovel has a hatch in the back that leads to an underground hideout of sorts. There's a barrel of water in there as well. Feel free to drink as much as you need. I have more than enough to share with a dead man." Thomas watched as Alex stood up and started towards him. 

"Where are you going?" Thomas asked as Alex drew closer to him. 

Alex brushed passed Thomas, his robe sliding across the polished armor. "Well if I'm going to have a new partner, then I need to teach him how to survive like a Barthol!" Brushing his hand over Thomas's head in a quick motion that left Thomas confused and alone.

"I don't need you to survive, I can protect myself!" Thomas called out as Alex continued to wander off. "I don't need you, I can survive on my own!" He called out again as Alex continued on his way. Crazy old man, I don't need his old bag of bones watching over me! He growled to himself as he started inside. Climbing up the three wooden stairs, he noticed a blanket and pillow laid neatly on top of each other in the back of the wood room. Pushing them out of the way, and setting his helmet on the pillow, he found the hatch Alex mentioned. Lifting the wooden hatch, it squealed in protest. Thomas ignored the high pitched sound and quickly started down the ladder, leaving the now broken helmet in the room above. Beneath the small room was a dimly lit room. A few candles were scattered around the area giving him enough light to see the rocky outcrop.

Climbing down the last few rungs, Thomas noticed the ground was packed in as if it had been used for a long time. He began to wander around the semi-spacious room to explore. Candles were scattered around the room on hooks in the wall. Wax had long since claimed the wall space below them as it descended towards the ground in large dripping lines. A large shrine lay at the end of the cave with dozens of candles illuminating it. Inside the shrine hung a long white robe that was hung over an old wooden mannequin. It was covered with blades and knives that seemed to go into pouches all around the robe. "He has an assassin's robe...!" Thomas mumbled to himself in shock as he stared at the mannequin. Now I need to know what happened! He thought as he pressed the button on his chest. Reaching in, he took the ancient book from its temporary home and touched the button again, sealing the compartment before sitting down near the candles to read. 

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Well I got another one done! I hope y'all are enjoying the story so far. I know I am! :) If you want to make my day don't forget to drop a few comments and vote! I hope you have a good day, and don't forget to drink lots of water! :) 

-Asted!