Assassin's Fall

Bitter conflict

To interact with shadow, Dale yielded his consciousness to the primordial rift, an entity his predecessor had described as a realm that separated existence from nonexistence. It engulfed the world, and with the right skill, one could access it through temporary fractures that were caused by the separation of darkness from light. Veteran shadow users were able to open greater conduits into the primordial rift by separating any form of life from existence. This ability was far more superior, but anyone who delved into using it either lost their lives or their humanity.

Dale merged his senses with the darkness and directed his consciousness into the house. There was so much light that his shadow could not materialize anywhere near his targets. His sense of sight was completely obfuscated, and the rest of his senses were barely working. He felt the presence of his targets, and something was wrong about it. He gathered his senses under a dining table, and there he morphed into his physical form.

A spoon fell from above as Dale finished materializing. A young girl stooped to pick it up, and in doing so her eyes strayed towards Dale. The girl froze, her grey eyes shaking, then an instant later, her features relaxed. Her delicate face became more jovial. She offered a broad smile and reached forth, pulling Dale by the arm and dragging him out of his hiding position. He did not resist. Rather, his pale face flushed.

“Momma!” the girl called. “I found Dale under the table! He was no doubt planning those stupid surprises again, but I caught him! And we haven’t forgotten it’s your birthday either. Papa, Dale’s here!”

Ducibella smiled triumphantly and held Dale by the arm like a trophy. Her grip was surprisingly strong for a ten-year-old. Dale’s mother had struggled to conceive another child after him, but after two decades, fortune had favored her once more. Ducibella was her parents’ miracle child, their priceless princess. And to Dale, she was a piece of his soul.

“Good to see you too, Duci,” Dale said, offering a generous smile.

The dining room had been decorated festively, and a lot of food had been laid on the table. A tall, brown-haired woman walked in from the kitchen carrying a steaming bowl of stew and, upon seeing Dale, she almost dropped it.

“Dewdrop!” she cried with joy. She dropped her stew bowl carelessly on the table and ran towards Dale, embracing him as if it was her last task as a living being. Dale blushed.

“Don’t…call me that, please. I’m old enough to be Duci’s father.”

“And still my baby boy,” the woman reproved. Despite being way past her prime, Dale’s mother remained one of the very few people who could sneak up on him and land a successful blow, and for such he had a lot of respect for her.

Back in her day, Danette had assassinated her way up to become the first female Guild Master in the history of the assassins’ guild. Shortly after her coronation, she participated in a dangerous hunt for an unranked target who had defeated every assassin sent against him. In a twist of events, her fellow assassins had turned against her, using spell weavers to bind her strength and restrict her abilities. Left to burn in a house, her target had saved her life. Her body had been burnt to a point where she could not possibly survive, but he nursed her back to health, for he was a healer. Though his skill restored most of Danette’s former self, she never looked nor felt the same again.

For a time, Danette was broken, and she wanted nothing more than revenge, but her target-turned-savior showed her a part of life she had never experienced before. She later on married the healer, and they retreated to the northern boundaries of the country. Up to date, Danette was the only assassin who had left the guild and lived, but time had dulled her senses. In her ignorance she had been lured back to the lair of s*******r, and her own son was going to deliver the final blow.

“I must admit, I was suspicious when your friend visited and told us about his plan to surprise you on your birthday. We’re too old to be traveling this much, but we’d do anything for our dewdrop…”

“Friend, you say?” Dale asked suspiciously.

“Tall fellow, shaved square jaw and some golden hair that looks fairer than a pixie’s,” Danette explained.

Arxes. Dale should have known. His gaze rested on his mother. She looked frail and vulnerable. Duci, who for some reason had not released Dale’s arm, looked up inquisitively, wondering why everyone had fallen silent so abruptly. Dale could end them both painlessly in an instant, but was that what he wanted? All this time as an assassin, he had been loyal to two things only: the guild, and his family. Part of why he had joined the assassins was to protect Duci, but now... all his plans were turning back on him. For the first time in a long time, Dale faltered. His mother looked at him comfortingly, tears spilling out of her piercing, silver eyes.

“Do what you have to, dewdrop,” she said.

“What was that fuss about, Duci?” a male voice asked, approaching from the kitchen. “You know apple pie requires strict monitoring, and we don’t want to spoil this…”

Crestien stood by the entrance, hardly believing his eyes. He had relaxed as a farmer over the years, and because of that, he had gained significant weight. It made him wheeze whenever he was surprised.

“D-dale…” the man stammered, “what an unexpected surprise. I didn’t think you’d come on such short notice…”

Dale unsheathed his sword. He recalled Tamaia asking him if he would kill an innocent person. He had said he would, for the sake of the guild.

“Dale,” Crestien said cautiously, “what’s going on? You’re scaring me.”

Footsteps approached from the outside. Judging by the interval, the steps belonged to none other than Liandra.

“I am sorry, father,” Dale said. “You had to go through all this trouble, and now none of us is going to eat the food.”

Ducibella let go of Dale and stepped towards her mother. Danette placed a protective arm over her shoulder. The front door crashed.

“Dale!” Liandra called. “Has anyone ever told you it’s a bad habit to share a meal with your targets before you slit their throats?”

“Momma, what’s happening?” Ducibella asked, shrinking closer to her mother.

Another door cracked and snapped by the hinges, and the wooden panels crashed into the dining room.

“There you are,” Liandra spoke. “You haven’t even started yet. Step aside and I will spare you the trouble.”

Dale turned. In that brief time, he had weighed his options and decided what was best for him. He knew it for the lie it was. His decision was definitely the worst choice that he could make, but he was ready to face the consequences.

“I can’t do that, Liandra,” Dale spoke at last. A heavy weight lifted off his heart. He was no longer tied to the guild, nor to their rules.

Liandra paused briefly, unable to comprehend Dale’s intent. She weighed her targets, calculating their potential through their aura. The man had almost nothing. The woman radiated an energy similar to Dale’s. The child… Liandra saw the striking resemblance. The coldness of those grey eyes and the fiery aura that was enclosed within.

“So it comes down to this. I knew the guild was up to something, but never in a million thoughts did I consider this a possibility. Who knew you had such a beautiful family?”

“I don’t wish to fight you, Liandra,” Dale said wearily.

The giantess drew her sword, her eyes filled with determination.

“Neither do I,” she replied. “But see, there was another condition of this mission that you did not know of. I quote, ‘Should Dale fail to complete his mission, you are entitled to take over and claim the bounty. Dale’s right to become a Guild Master will be evoked, and if you desire to claim that position for yourself, execute Dale and bring his head along with the rest of the bounty. Only then will you be announced the new Guild Master.’ I suppose you also suspected that we were being followed. Outside this house, twenty assassins lie in wait. Five bowmen, five executioners, five strikers and five spell weavers. Even if I wanted you to live, my hands are tied here.”

“Would you let me leave this place alive if I assured your safety afterward?” Dale asked, attempting to appeal to Liandra’s good side. It was rarely present, but he had to try. The striker only laughed in ridicule.

“I knew you had grown soft over the years. To be frank with you, I was on board with the guild’s plan the moment they offered me this sweet deal. It’s too good to refuse. Enough talk. I’ll see you on the other side, Dale.”

Dale should have taken Liandra with him the last time he left. The guild had corrupted her, removing the very essence of humanity from her nature. The only purpose that was engraved in her mind was serving the guild. She was beyond reason.

It a burst of speed, Liandra charged forward, her blade aiming for the young girl. A powerful force hit her behind the calves, sweeping her feet off the ground. As she fell, the same force hurled her backward, crushing her body mercilessly against the masonry wall. Her targets ran towards the kitchen, and watching them flee invigorated Liandra. She recovered almost instantly, charging forth once more. Dale confronted her. His shoulders were drooped, his sword hanging low.

“You cannot escape, even if you get past me,” Liandra said as she advanced, holding her sword in a two-handed grip.

“I know,” was all Dale said.

Liandra managed to keep up with Dale’s speed. His shadow motion was restricted in areas with too much light. The strategic move was to break some of the lanterns, but Dale did not resort to that. Liandra’s blade rang against Dale’s, the impact causing a paralyzing jolt to race up her arms. She channeled her strength into her upper body, sacrificing balance for more aggression. Her sword thrust forward, but as Dale parried, she switched the maneuver into an overhead assault. She chopped down with all her might, using her power to drive the blade towards Dale’s head with a speed that even a shadow user could not match.

Dale lifted his unarmed hand and caught the blade by the sharp end without flinching. Liandra’s momentary surprise gave Dale more than enough time to execute a decapitating blow. At the same time, he pulled Liandra’s blade towards himself, forcing the giantess to choose between holding on to her weapon or leaving it to dodge the assault. Liandra chose the latter.

The striker drew two daggers from her belt and circled her new target, assessing his potential. She could not weigh his might, and apparently he had developed new strengths over the past five years of his absence. She had wanted this exact opportunity to obliterate him, to prove that she was the finest, but the man’s composure made her falter. The best option was to call in for help, but her pride forbade it. She unleashed havoc.