Ice and Stone

The mountain will turn your tears to ice and your heart to stone. This was our mantra, our promise, and our prayer.

The Temple of Assassins had trained Lina well - she was ruthless and efficient. A master of swords. And she could easily sneak through the shadows, without being seen or heard. In all ways but one they had succeeded in making the perfect assassin. But Lina had never been able to master the cold, unfeeling nature of her sisters. She couldn’t help it - she delighted in each kill.

She enjoyed snuffing out the light of another greedy fat cat or a dignitary who gave pretty speeches but never did as they promised. Those who claimed to care for their people but ate feasts as they starved.

Lina liked to learn as much as she could about each of her kills. Each of the horrible men and women she had been selected to end. It served as ammunition, on the rare occasions where hesitation had held back her blade. But those occasions were few and far between. So many sinners and cruel men - so few good people left.

Only now, she felt frozen. It seemed the Mountain had finally found their first innocent victim - a feat in itself. Her victim was important - no doubt. The daughter of a high lord, soon to be married. The upcoming union would unite the two biggest houses in the kingdom. The girl had to be dealt with before she started having children who would disrupt the balance of power. A child like that united behind two great households could bring Kings back to Medea. And the Temple could not allow for that.

Medea was corrupt for sure. But as long as each lord tended to their own lands and free trade prospered between them - there was a fragile peace. The second someone started grabbing for more was the second it all came crumbling down.

Lina, who’d snuck into the girl’s room by quietly scaling up the drain pipe, stood over her bed now. None of the reports told of how young she was. She looked maybe 13 - it was likely she’d only just gotten her first blood. An innocent girl thrown into the line of fire. She knew first-hand of such things. Of course, with one important difference: this girl was a noblewoman, and Lina had been a slave. Perhaps she still was a slave, if she was being pessimistic, even if she hadn’t been forced to wear irons in more than five years.

From the look of her, this girl hadn’t endured a day of hardship in her life. Her hands were soft and plump - nothing like Lina’s tough and calloused ones. She was pale, for an Andelian, she likely hadn’t spent much time outside. Her nails were all finely curved and polished; not a speck of dirt beneath them.

Lina knew what she was doing. She was trying to make herself hate her, or at very least feel a spark of jealousy for this little rich girl who clearly had never known what it meant to suffer. But Lina also knew that if she allowed her to live, that would soon change.

Lina couldn’t believe her own thoughts. Allow the girl to live! What was she thinking? She was an assassin, an assassin of the Mountain no less. It was and never would be her job to decide. It was not her role to debate and consider how the peace of the kingdom might be maintained. She was just a blade, in the hands of shadowed masters

She watched the girl, observing her cheeks - still plump with child-ish fat. So innocent and peaceful in her sleep. Lina swallowed and unsheathed her blade.

“Tears to ice,” Lina whispered under her breath, as she pulled her knife across the girl’s throat. “Heart to stone.”