The Assasin Retribution

How would you feel if your day started in the middle of a mission, or an adventure if you’d like to call it, or a trip to murder someone? Your signature uniform would be a brown and green cloak that would make you blend in with almost anything. From chest to waist, a sheepskin vest with more than three dozen throwing knife sheaths, around your waist a sword for close combat, and on the other side a dozen of atlatl darts used for long-range fighting. A mask with a laceration across the right eye symbolizing that you are an assassin and how fierce you can be. For instance, a novice assassin would wear a white mask, a mid-tier assassin would wear a green mask, and a fully-fledged assassin would wear a black mask.

I can remember about fifty stories of my uncle, Alfred. He was known by many titles, some of which were; Alfred the Great, The Empire's Greatest Assassin, Alfred the Mangler, and The Wanted One. People with different viewpoints and professions have had different titles for him. His biggest achievement was assassinating the king. Only, one assassin besides Uncle Alfred had accomplished this feat, and that was the legendary Sir Geoffrey.

I couldn’t learn anything from my uncle because he died when I was six years old, ten years ago. He had a feud with another assassin named Morgath, and in one of his missions, Morgath devised a plan and killed him. News of our grandparents' murder came a couple of weeks later. Then the week after, two of my aunt's families were dead. Then next, my cousins became a victim. By the end of the month, we were one of the only two people in the Oweine family not dead.

Everything that has a purpose, needs something to survive for. The moon needs the earth to illuminate, the plants need water and sun to survive, the garden I stand on needs a gardener to survive, and the walls in front of me need guards to stand over. In my case, I needed stealth, patience, invisibility, and the sound of the wind to survive.

Watching the growling wind, I walk down the right side of the garden, approaching the wall that guards the castle fortress. Only a few people knew about the gap, the opening in this wall.

When I was finally through the gate, I entered the rear side of the castle garden. This side of the garden was not abandoned like the previous, instead, it had many neat rows of various blooming flowers planted. In the daytime, specialized gardeners with unique qualities came to water and fertilize them.

The garden had huge iron walls on all four sides, and a big circular well in the middle. Irregular rows of sprouting plants created a maze-like pathway making it harder for pedestrians to find their way out.

Walking through the garden, I spotted a guard standing vertically across me, on the other side of the iron gate, stiffly standing in a silver armor. Squadrons of bugs conquered every centimeter of the ground, and the only way to get to the castle was through or over the iron gate.

Thus, for now, crawling through the garden to reach the other side was my only solution to go unnoticed. The feeling of crawling a hundred meters replete with bugs was irritating; my hands were aching, my knees were hurt, but I couldn’t stop when I had come thus far.

Holding my breath, I climbed over the iron walls, and silently jumped down like a ninja. However, when my foot touched the ground, a small thud erupted. The guard quirked up, hastily glanced around to detect my intruding presence.

Before he got the upper hand, I unsheathed a knife and aimed it at his chest. Groaning, his eyes bulged out and he immediately dropped dead against his post.

There, the coast was all clear. Finding my only chance, I rushed into the castle.

At first, I ended up in the kitchen, the delicious aroma of chicken filled my nostrils, and I had to subdue my hungry stomach from growling. That's when I realized, they had it all. There were all sorts of food, their aroma mingling with the air. The scent varied depending on the form of food, but as an assassin, I had to keep up with the tradition by fasting during their missions.

There was a tremulous candlelight lit in one of the corners where a woman stood by staring off at a distance. Tiptoeing with cautious silence, I unsheathed my sword from my waist and swung it right under the woman's chin, tilting her face upward. She didn't notice anything until the bag she was carrying was sliced by my sword during the process.

Frightened, the girl looked at me and then the blade, and that's when she started shaking. Her lips trembled, and she shook vigorously with the fear of sudden murder.

“Will you kindly answer a question I have for you?” I hissed, my voice sharp as a dagger.

“An-anything you want, sir!” she sputtered, barely being able to form those words.

“Where is your master?” I smirked, digging the sword deeper into her flesh.

“He’s inside the great hall, sir."

“Thank you so much, dead meat! '' I snarled, slitting her throat at lightning speed, keeping up with my quickest killing record.

Hastily, I ascended a flight of ancient spiral stairs, hurling knives and darts each time I came by a person. At last, I arrived in a dim hallway lit with a few dusty torches where two guards immediately stood back disappearing through the dark door ahead.

Feeling suspicious about the room, I moved on keeping my head low. I sauntered on pretending to remove my cloak in front of the few posted guards. Instead, I pulled out my sword, turned around, and deflected their spears. I took out a knife from my vest, and threw it at one of the guards, and used my sword to stab the second guard fair and square on the chest.

Feeling satisfied, I continued further inside the great hall, the huge room was eerily quiet. Only a few sounds of water droplets pierced the silence of the room.

Instantaneously, the light came on. I was surrounded by dozen men with green masks. All that symbolized that these were all mid-tier assassins, which meant they were still students. But here, I was a student too, so it was a matter of ability, agility, and stamina. One-to-one combat. How foolish of me to forget that assassins had the ability to move noiselessly.

I immediately gained the upper hand, throwing two of my knives straight at the nearest two assassins before continuing with the rest. The assassins dropped two by two, my knives penetrating right through their chest and into their heart, flooding blood.

The floor was littered with corpses, and I approached one of them with utter disgust and pulled out my throwing knife that struck his chest.

Blood caked my hand, and I stared at the crimson, metallic colour. “So that's what blood feels like, huh?"

“Oweine, What took you so long?” A deep voice mocked. A gazed up finding myself, standing right under the king's throne. "What a fine show Oweine!"

He was clad in a black mask, a fully-fledged assassin. With a smirk, he tore off his mask. I was met with those creepy terrorizing eyes.

I was looking at Morgath. My nemesis.

Before I could withdraw my weapon, he struck hitting me fair and sqaure in the chest.

A fell, collapsing on the ground and panting for air as blood conquering my chest. Air had betrayed me long ago leaving me to suffer the greatest agony.

I was dead.