Akaysha watched through the eyes of fifteen year old Ragin as he sat, almost perched, on the roof of a building somewhere in Illirea, studying the noble's compound not a hundred metres away. He was wrapped in a dark grey cloak, with a bow on his back and an assortment of weapons stashed through his uniform, much like he had been dressed for the night when he stole her egg. He was calm, focused, and confident. His first mission. A mission that would succeed.

While Ragin had been trained in the blade, throughout the years there was many other sorts of training that he had done with Vanir preparing him for this mission. His aim with a bow was uncanny. His skill with a dagger and throwing knife had been toned to perfection. The skill and ease he pulled off mental attacks he could have only strengthened with years of practice. All of these he did, and more, but they were not important memories, or at the very least not significant ones, so Akaysha hadn't focused on them.

Ragin had been sitting still on the roof for hours, studying the building with an assassin's intensity. That was probably why it was so clear in the memory. The building looked like a small mansion, with stone walls surrounding it on each side with a garden just behind them, encircling the house with an assortment of plants, both foreign and native. The actual house was about three stories high, with balconies at each window and vines crawling up the walls. Guards patrolled each wall, garbed in heavy armour with a spear or bow and a short sword at their hips. They were well trained and loyal, not simple mercenaries Ragin would be able to bribe. He had yet to see a mage, but he knew there would likely be someone.

The manor in question was owned by a man named Martin Fendou, where he lived with his wife, Pearl, and daughter, Freya. Martin was a well-respected man in Illirea and a minor member of the Alageasia's inner court. While not close friends with the current king, they were on talking terms. There seemed to be nothing wrong with him specifically, but he needed to be taken down, as he was the primary reason illegal magic had been so problematic for a good number of years. He secretly funded many of the criminal groups that were teaching people the ancient language and making it difficult for the royal group of magicians, the Du Vrangr Gata, to deal with them. With him gone these groups would quickly fall. This made the mission quite simple. Ragin was to sneak in, kill the target, and sneak back out again. There were to be no witnesses, as that could quite easily lead back to the Black Hand's strong presence in Illirea. Anyone that spotted him needed to be killed quickly and efficiently.

Ragin twisted the ring in his right hand, slightly anxious, as he waited for the next pass of the guard, before making his move. His mind was hidden by the ring, so no one would see him mentally. The dark grey cloak would allow him to blend into the surrounding buildings, keeping him even more hidden. The only way he would be seen would be if they literally ran into him.

As the clouds passed over head he dropped from the top of the building, running along the road to his chosen point of entry. There was an overgrown vine hanging from one of the walls toward the back, allowing Ragin to jump and catch it with a hand, before slowly pulling himself up. He estimated he had only ten seconds of opportunity to be able to get over the wall, and he had already used five. With a slight grunt he hauled himself onto the battlement, and without pausing threw himself over the other side, and down into a slew of bushes that he knew was down below. He used a spell to slow his fall, making sure not to stir up too much sound with the plants. Not a second later a guard appeared along the wall, making his routine rounds. He didn't even notice the slight scuff marks on the ground beneath his feet.

Satisfied with his performance, Ragin snuck his way through the compound, making use of the moving shadows of the sky and many plants scattered throughout the backyard. As he got to the wall of the building, he looked back the way he had come. Guards still patrolled the outer rim, but as far as he knew there wasn't any of them actually in the house. Also, the fact that they used lanterns to see meant they wouldn't be able to make out the shadowy figure from any reasonable distance. They had been unprepared for an assassination tonight.

Ragin began to scale the wall, using the many vines and handholds on it to make the climb. He grinned to himself. This was easy... so far. The Fendou's bedroom was on the top floor, with the balcony overlooking the compound and the city. It made for an easy entry. Ragin stopped as he reached the top of the vine, reaching out to grab the edge of the balcony. He waited a moment, listening carefully as it was quite reasonable that someone had walked onto the balcony while he had been climbing. After waiting a full minute he deemed himself safe enough to continue.

He pulled himself onto the balcony, waiting in silence again as he looked into the room beyond. It was a rather spacious place, with a nice bed at the other side that would face the sunrise and a currently unlit fireplace in the middle. There were curtains that could be pulled to hide them from the outside world, but currently they were pulled back. Ragin instantly saw the two Fendous. Pearl, a women with reddish blond hair and a pale complexion, was asleep on the bed. Martin was awake, sitting at a desk at the corner of the room with a small candle helping him to read whatever notes he was working on.

Ragin silently drew the dagger and began to stalk through the room. Martin sighed softly, putting his head in his hands, seeming frustrated. It was the last move he ever made. The assassin quickly stepped up behind him and shoved the dagger into the back of the man's neck, cutting his vertebrae and blocking his airways. Martin died nearly instantly. Whatever wards he had were defenceless against the enchanted dagger. Ragin pulled his dagger back with a grim smile. Easy.

He wiped the dagger's blade against his cloak as he looked over the pieces of paper Martin had been reading, and was surprised at what he saw. They were marking shipments, things the nobleman had bought for the criminals he was helping. The notes held exactly where they were being delivered and how. Ragin felt his smile widen. This was the motherload. If he brought this back to Vanir, the Black Hand would be able to take down these criminals once and for all.

He began to sort through them, picking each piece of paper that was relevant and leaving the rest behind. It was then he heard the rustle of bed sheets from behind him.

"Martin... what are you doing- Aah!" Pearl's scream echoed from the bedroom and out into the entire compound.

Ragin swore, spinning around to face her. The women fell out of her bed, tripping over her night gown as she tried to run for the door. The assassin didn't give her a chance. He dropped the papers, grabbing his dagger and throwing it at her. In his panic he didn't aim correctly, so instead of killing the women outright she let out another cry as she fell to the ground, the dagger in her back. Ragin swore again, drawing his sword and running over to her.

"No! Please," her begging cries fell on deaf ears as she pulled herself away from the imposing figure, "Don't kill me! Please! I have a daughter! No-"

Ragin cut of her words with a simple thrust, burying the blade in her heart. Her eyes widened and she coughed, blood splattering from her mouth. He watched as the light died from her eyes, and her body fell limp. It was slightly unnerving, but it needed to be done. No one could see him. That being said, he couldn't afford to stay around any longer. Everyone would have heard her scream. So he bent down, pulling out the dagger lodged in her back, and putting his sword back in its sheath. He quickly ran over to the desk where Martin's corpse still lay, scooping up the papers and shoving them roughly into a pocket in his cloak. He then turned, running toward the balcony. He would have to jump, as they would likely see him if he tried to climb.

Before he got there the door behind him burst open, followed by another scream. He turned, looking at the intrusion and gripping his dagger again, ready to throw. He hesitated though when he saw who it was. It was the little girl, Freya, who was only a year younger than him. She had a loaded crossbow in her hands, and when she saw her dead mother and father she seemed angry. With a scream she aimed her crossbow and fired it. The bolt streaked through the air. Ragin dodged to the side, crying out in pain as the bolt sheared through his armour, the edge of it cutting open a long line in his side. He staggered to the left, clutching at the wound, staring in frustration as blood began to seep through his fingers.

In a desperate attempt to stop her he through his dagger again, aiming for her head. Out of instinct or not, he didn't know, but Freya raised her crossbow in fright, the dagger sinking into the heavy frame and damaging it. It wouldn't be shooting any time soon. Ragin heard the sounds of guards thumping up the stairways. He couldn't stay around. If he didn't get moving now then he would be captured, and the wound in his side hurt far more than it should. Poison he suspected, that or magic. It was the only way the bolt would have gotten through his wards.

Thinking up a quick plan he threw out his hand, "Brisingr!"

The fireplace in the centre of the room exploded into dark flames, which quickly changed into a fierce golden yellow light the blinded the girl. He then quickly muttered one of the twelve death words, aiming to kill her quickly, but as he suspected, she had wards that protected her from death. Turning to his next plan he ran for the balcony and leapt off it, using more magic to slow his fall. He landed heavily, turning the momentum from the jump into a run as he tried his best to ignore the pain. Whatever had been in that crossbow bolt was beginning to make him woozy, and his energy levels were dropping.

He ran for the wall and yelled out one of the enchanted words he had been taught, "Springr!"

His legs were infused with energy for a moment, and with an extra push he launched himself up and over the wall, leaping entirely over the startled guards who had stationed themselves to stop him. He landed with a role, absorbing the impact. The enchanted word also allowed him to land from higher places without hurting himself. It did use a fair amount of energy though.

With the mixture of the poison and lack of energy he swayed, nearly blacking out from the effort it had taken. It was only an arrow bouncing off one of his wards that snapped him back to reality. He gritted his teeth, looking back as the guards started to fire at him from their vantage points, and more poured out from the gate. There were way too many of them for him to fight, especially in his condition. That left one option, run. So he did, clutching his side with one hand and sprinting as fast as he could into the streets of Illirea.

The guards chased him, and it wasn't long before a roar echoed in the sky above. They had a dragon rider after him? The thought made him panic all the more. The poison was affecting his thoughts, his decision making, and to him there seemed only one way to get out of this. That was get back to the hideout. So he ran, wheezing his breath in and out, dodging between streets, making the most direct way back.

As he approached the street he knew to be safe another arrow was spun around by magic, and he stumbled, his wards disappearing as he didn't have the energy to keep them going. But he was nearly there. He turned around the street, still running, and he made it to the secret door. He whispered the quick phrase, and the door slid open, allowing him to stagger inside. The door closed behind him, much to the frustration of the guards outside. He heard them banging at the stone door, screaming insults at him. Ragin was too sick to be phased.

"Ragin!?" Vanir's voice caused him to raise his weary head, "What have you done boy?"

"Martin... Martin is dead," Ragin chuckled tiredly, before collapsing to one knee, "I think... I think I've been poisoned."

"Aargh, you idiot. You lead them right here," the elf sighed as he moved over to help the boy to his feet.

He gently lay him down on the bed and began to chant a quick spell. Immediately the healing effect of magic rushed through him. The wound at his side closed and his head cleared, allowing him to breathe easier. That still didn't help his energy levels however, which were still dangerously low. The guards outside had quietened down, but that didn't exactly bode well.

"Sorry," Ragin said.

"We'll discuss it later," grunted Vanir as he helped the boy sit up again, "For now we need to get out of here. It's only a matter of time before-"

There was a sudden massive crack in the roof above them. Both looked up, and Ragin grunted in surprise as the entire roof of their hideout was ripped from its supports, along with the entire building that they were hidden under. Ragin only had a glimpse of pitch black scales before suddenly fire was everywhere. Vanir, standing in front, yelled out a protection spell, blocking the blaze from him and his apprentice, but Ragin could still feel the heat scorching his skin. He cried out again, shielding his face with his cloak. As the fire disappeared, the two looked up to see the dragon that had caused so much damage.

It's pitch black scales glinted in the red flames, like stars in a black void. It towered above them, in the memory bigger than any creature Ragin has ever seen. It's yellow eyes glared into his soul, the snarling maw with teeth longer than his entire body. Smoke escaped from its mouth as it growled at the elf and human below.

The dragon slowly lowered its head, revealing the rider on its back. Another elf, one that Akaysha immediately recognised as Theaden. The rider drew his black blade, sliding off his dragon's neck and landing on the ground, facing the master of the Black Hand and his apprentice.

"Vanir," Theaden said, pointing his sword at the other elf, "This is a surprise."

"Theaden, I can't say it's a pleasure," Vanir gritted his teeth, drawing his own blade and whispering to Ragin, "Go, get out of here. Take the sewers."

"But..." Ragin attempted to answer.

"Go!" Vanir turned back to Theaden, and with a quick step forward attacked the rider.

The two swords clashed in sparks as the rider blocked the assassin's overhead blow with ease. Ragin gulped and turned, running for the opening to the sewers hidden in the back of what was left over from their home. He looked back to see the dragon opening its mouth to breath fire at the fleeing boy, but was stopped by a thrown dagger that sunk into the roof of its open mouth. It screamed in pain, turning its fierce gaze on Vanir as the elf battled its rider.

Ragin opened the small covering leading into the sewers and began to climb down. But he didn't go all the way. Instead he stopped, leaving his head poking out as he watched the battle unfold. He had never seen Vanir fight so fiercely before. The black blade of the rider and the silver streak of his master's weapons moved too fast for him to see. They were like blurs, dancing back and forth with strike after strike. Ragin still had the ring on his finger, so they wouldn't be able to sense his presence, but he reasoned that Vanir's mind was being attacked throughout the battle as well.

Suddenly Theaden faulted, staggering back with a cut to his shoulder, but before Vanir could take advantage of the situation, his dragon stepped in, stamping down with its foot. Vanir saw it coming and managed to leap out of the way, but allowing Theaden to recover in the same moment.

"So you rely on your dragon to fight huh?" the elf taunted, "Are you not strong enough to take me on yourself?"

"You forget Vanir," Theaden grunted, holding his shoulder, "That a rider and dragon are one. You don't fight one without the other."

"So be it," the elf narrowed his eyes.

Theaden's dragon roared loudly, blasting another load of fire at Ragin's master. Vanir's wards blocked the attack, but blinded him as Theaden leapt forward, striking in a thrust. The assassin had predicted the attack and has already been moving backwards, avoiding the strike. He leapt onto the broken wall with a sudden increase in agility, likely having used one of the enchanted words, and sprinted forward at startling speed. Theaden's dragon swung its paw at him, attempting to crush him with a single blow, but Vanir made a startling leap, completely clearing the dragons attempt and striking with his sword, piercing through scales and flesh. The dragon snarled, backing away and lashing out with its tail, smashing rubble and stone but again missing the elf. It was too big to be fighting in such a small space and was finding it difficult to move. It had succeeded in slowing Vanir down however, allowing Theaden to catch up.

Once again the two engaged in a duel, swords moving at deadly speeds as each looked for an opening. Ragin noticed how Vanir used the enchanted words in quick succession in order to batter Theaden back, but it seemed the rider was more than familiar with this style of fighting. While he never using the words himself, he seemed to understand and avoid a deciding clash whenever they were used. This began to exhaust the assassin, to a point when it was Theaden's turn to land a blow, cutting one of Vanir's legs.

Ragin's master fell to the ground with a cry, the injury unable to support his weight. He couldn't even retaliate as with a single clean blow Theaden struck Vanir's sword hand, cutting it off. Ragin stifled a cry as he watched in horror as his master's head hung, defeated at the hands of Theaden and his dragon. Vanir was a powerful individual, but defeating both dragon and rider was something not even he could achieve.

Ragin watched as Theaden lay a hand on Vanir's head, watching the mental battle unfold. It wasn't long before Vanir cried out as his mind was breached. Normally it wouldn't be so much of an issue, but exhausted and in pain, with both a dragon and rider attacking him, there was only so long he could hold out. Seeming to find out what he wanted to, Theaden stepped back with a smug grin and with a simple strike lopped off the head of the fallen elf, ending the battle once and for all.

Ragin felt tears spring to his eyes. He gritted his teeth. Yes, he hated Vanir, but the elf had also been like a father to the boy. He had raised him, protected him, and cared for him. It was Vanir that had taught him everything he knew. Narrowing his eyes, silently vowing revenge to himself, Ragin disappeared down into the sewers, the hatred he had once focused on Vanir, switching to the riders and what they had done.

* * *

Akaysha found herself silent after watching the memory, watching Ragin with slight shock. In none of the memories beforehand had she felt him become so ruthless or uncaring. When he killed Freya's parents, there had been no remorse, no unease. It had come so naturally. While now she knew he felt a little guilty for his crime, it seemed he had been very different not long ago.

Ragin still had his eyes closed as he breathed heavily, trying to fight of the pain of the wound in his chest, 'I knew the memory would shock you.'

'It... does. But it doesn't change who you are today,' Akaysha said to him.

He grunted a laugh, 'The thing is Akaysha... Martin needed to die. What he was doing... if he wasn't killed Alageasia would be in a much worse state then it is now. That's what the Black Hand did Akaysha. We kept all things in order for the betterment of everyone. If I were to go back in time, knowing what I did now, I wouldn't have done anything differently that night, except maybe leave those papers behind and run before I was seen.'

'Ragin...' the dragon wasn't sure how to respond to that.

She replayed the memory over and over in her mind, before focusing on the important part of it. The defeat of Vanir, which lead to the eventual demise of the Black Hand. She could still feel the turmoil of her rider after seeing that. He still hated the riders, or at the very least he hated Theaden for what he had done, but there was no longer that solemn promise of revenge. He had seen the world differently now, from a riders point of view, and he no longer wanted to see them burn. Which lead her to one final question.

'So the reason you attempted all this... to kill Tharin Foeswarn... it wasn't just to save my life? Was it?' she asked.

'No. Like Martin, Tharin needs to die. If he doesn't... I'm afraid of what will happen to Alageasia. Especially now he has a dragon egg. If he gives it the same power he gave you... well... I do not look forward to the outcome. Though I have failed again it seems.'

'Not yet,' growled Akaysha, 'Not now you have me. Let's show him the true power of wild magic. I say we fly in there and show him what we can do.'

Ragin opened his eyes, looking at her in surprise, 'We can't just fly in there...'

'And why not?' the dark dragonesses flashed her teeth, 'If you show me how, I'll heal you right here. Then we throw the power he's given me back into his face. Finish the mission.'

The rider was silent for a moment, 'I thought the others would want you to bring me back.'

'Oh, I'm still going to do that,' Akaysha rumbled a laugh, 'But as you've said... Tharin is too dangerous to leave alive. If we don't stop him now there may not be another chance.'

Ragin frowned slightly, before letting out a grin and speaking out loud with a groan, "Then lets show him what we can do."

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New chapter guys! Whoo! This must be a record for me, at least with this book XD. It was a long chapter as well, nearly four thousand words. But anyway, vote if you enjoyed this chapter and comment what you thought. The next one will be out soon hopefully, there is only about seven chapters left to go in the book, and they are all planned to be very... impactful. So look forward to them. See ya!

Pennator^^