Time is such a strange, fickle thing. Sometimes it is a gift, sometimes a curse. A year can feel like a day, and a day an eternity. There are periods in our lives where all we have is time. Others we can never have enough. We keep reaching, keep grasping, chasing a taunting dream we can’t touch, though it seems so close.

Time seems to grow out of our pains and doubts. It stretches, spreads itself like a thick blanket over our adversities, trapping us in its hold, never quickening its pace. We’re left with more than enough time to think and contemplate and remember right when we least want it.

And yet during those moments of peace and sanctity, the few times we experience joy in its purest form, time’s pace is impossible to slow down. Those experiences pass us by so quickly, it seems as if it were all a strange, wonderful illusion. Before we can truly taste it, it vanishes, a mere memory.

Sometimes, when life gets hardest, memories aren’t enough to hold us…

- Scroll of Hyram

1110 K.E.

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I suppose in order to appreciate my story, a brief account of my world and its history would be necessary.

I was born on a very small planet called Dwyn, in the city of Étaín. Long before explorers, our forefathers, settled in Dwyn, a race of peoples, known only as the Kamil, populated the planet. Next to nothing is known of the Kamil race today. When Gavin Septima (the leader of the exploring party that first came to Dwyn) arrived here there were hardly any signs of intelligent life. The only trace left of Dwyn’s former inhabitants was a few primitive weapons and a scroll. The scroll, known now as the Scroll of Hyram, was found buried deep underground by Gavin while he was digging a drinking well.

At first glance the scroll appeared to be a book of Kamil myths, but later chronicled the progress of the Kamil people. A conflict was recorded by Hyram, the author of the scroll. A rebel force, which Hyram appears to have been a leader in, was moving against the governmental hierarchy of his day. In the midst of describing a fierce battle between rebel forces and government armies, the scroll ends abruptly. Gavin was greatly interested in the scroll and its story. He studied it intensely the remaining years of his life. It’s said that he found a brief account of an ancient Kamil legend recorded in the scroll. The details of this legend aren’t known by most, but popular belief is that it speaks of an inhuman light, one which holds the power to eradicate all life.

Whether Gavin Septima did in fact find such a scroll is a mystery to the common people of Dwyn today. It disappeared shortly after Gavin’s death. And as the technology Gavin and his crew brought with them to Dwyn developed and became more advanced as generations passed, the scroll’s importance got lost in the fray. People became more concerned with progress than anything else.

Though everyone in this day and age has heard the story, most don’t even believe the scroll itself existed, let alone any of the things it spoke of. However, the popularity of the Scroll of Hyram, the Kamil people, and the mysterious legend lives on. We classify our years based on the Kamil spoken of in the Scroll of Hyram. K.E. (Kamil Era) and P.K. (Post-Kamil era).

You may be wondering what any of this has to do with me and the tale I’m about to begin. As I have learned in my long life, history tends to intertwine itself with the present. It also has a rather nasty habit of repeating itself…

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City of Étaín

578 P.K.

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The rain pounded hard on the black pavement. Thunder boomed behind the thick curtain of dark clouds hanging in the sky, far off flashes of lightning permeating the night.

A street lamp in front of a corner alley flickered before dying just as a figure swathed in a black cloak darted out from the alley, nothing but a blur in the dark. It moved with an agile grace and dexterity, dodging the lights pouring onto the sidewalk pavement through store windows. Pedestrians passing by didn’t seem to notice the shadow making its way from one dark spot to another, going out of its way to avoid attention.

Presently it came to an empty communications booth. Sliding inside and closing the glass door behind it soundlessly, the figure glanced down at the miniature vid-screen built into one side of the booth and punched in the number of a well-known address with nimble fingers. The screen flickered for a moment or two before the face of a large and disgruntled balding man appeared. He scowled when he saw the shadowed face.

"Yeah?" his gruff voice snarled over the line.

"Has anyone ever told you you’re even more charming on screen?" the cloak-clad figure asked mockingly, in a decidedly feminine voice.

The burly man snorted derisively before asking, "Did you get the job done?"

"Of course."

"Then what are you dawdling for? Come back to base."

"It would help if you could send someone, or do you want me to walk there in the rain?" She drawled sarcastically. "I suppose I could always call a cab, but then I’d just have to eliminate the driver and I’m in no mood for that tonight."

The man growled. "Fine, I’ll send Jalen. Be ready to meet him in ten minutes. The usual spot." The screen went blank.

The cloaked woman shrugged before slipping out of the booth as quietly as she had entered. Making her way further up the street, she turned into another side alley and, at a run, leapt over the wooden fence marking its end. Taking an intricate short cut through back alleys and abandoned buildings, she came out onto an empty, dead-end road. The only sound was a far off car alarm. Leaning against a solid brick wall, heavy with graffiti, she waited, crossing her arms over her chest.

Minutes later a dark, sleek little car drove into view and pulled up right in front of her. Without hesitation she opened the door and slid inside. Off it drove, down the road and into the dark night.

-

"Ah, there’s my girl."

Flipping back the hood of her cloak, Feye strode into the small room and up to a large metal desk with a man sitting behind it. The door swung shut behind her. She looked around the room of which she now stood in the center. It was nothing more than a tiny office room. The walls were dirty and stained, patched with construction mud in more than one area. The ceiling had light streaks of mildew across it, and the rough carpeting below her feet had a curious smell, which Feye wasn’t entirely sure she wanted to analyze. One narrow, shuttered window running the length of the wall stood at the far end of the room behind that huge metal desk, the only piece of furniture decorating the place, aside from a small chair propped against the right wall and a filing cabinet directly opposite it.

Feye raised an eyebrow at her boss. "Well, this place is a dump. I liked the last abandoned warehouse better."

The man behind the desk grinned. He was an elderly man, with graying hair and a short clipped beard. Sharp, piercing blue eyes looked back at her from under a low, wrinkled brow. His nose was long and straight, lending a stubborn look to his profile. His eyes showed an intelligence and cunning totally at odds with his grandfatherly appearance. His grin did not reach his eyes. "You know how things work. Steady and continual relocation is the best way to keep things from getting messy."

Feye tossed her long, dark hair over her shoulder before crossing her arms over her chest. "At least staying in one place keeps things from getting too dull," she countered.

The man leaned forward with his elbows propped up on the desk, lacing his fingers together as he peered at her with eyes that twinkled in amusement. "Boredom, my dear, can be a blessing in disguise. And I can assure you that prison is much more dull than dodging the authorities."

"Whatever you say, Shennum," Feye replied in a bored tone. "Now why exactly did you have Tarquin summon me here? I’m sure you could’ve survived without this repartee until the morning, at least."

"Ever the impatient one, eh Feye?" Rising slowly from his chair, the man called Shennum stood and walked around his desk, stopping only once he was directly opposite her before leaning his torso against the cold metal. "How did it go?"

Feye rolled her eyes. "Lost confidence in my abilities, have you?"

Shennum chuckled, "Not at all. But you must admit this was a rather high-ranking hit. I’m simply curious as to how you went about doing it."

The young woman barely contained a sigh and dismissed his comment with a flippant wave of her hand. "It went as they all do. Smoothly and without interference. What exactly were you expecting?"

"Did you do anything with the body? Anything special?"

Feye’s upper lip curled in disdain. "Do I ever? It was a clean shot through the skull, nothing more."

Shennum sighed and rubbed the ridge of his nose. "Feye, precious, you really must begin carrying out your assignments with a little more… finesse."

Said woman raised a delicate eyebrow. "And why is that? The point is to eliminate. What does it matter how I kill the man so long as he’s dead by the end of the night?"

"It matters, as I’m sure you know, because our clients expect these hits to be carried out in a certain manner. They want a statement to be made. One that will not only intimidate, but strike fear in the hearts of politicians of a like nature. Having a little fun with your target, before or after the kill, is the best way to leave your mark and get the message across. Take Lojze for example. He carves his initials on his victims’ foreheads."

"There are plenty of other ways to leave one’s mark. I won’t play at your disgusting little games. I get the job done, that’s all the clients should care about."

Shennum threw his hands in the air in mock dismay. "Alas, my best agent, so short-sighted. Take it from someone who has a history with people like this. Sometimes it’s best to dance to their tune, no matter how gruesome, until they become dependent on you. Then you can go about doing things your way."

Feye strode over to the chair leaning against the wall and sat down. "Why make a monkey of myself when I can do things my way now? So, how long do you plan on making small talk before you tell me why you really wanted to see me?"

"Am I really that transparent?" he asked wryly.

"No, I simply have the misfortune of knowing you too well."

"Ah," he chuckled lightly while righting himself. "Since that’s the case, let me get to the point. I have a new client I’d like you to meet."

Again, Feye raised her eyebrow in question. "That’s all?"

"Well, my dear," Shennum said slowly while ambling towards the door, "This client is rather special. It’s not every day we get one of such… high caliber." Just as he finished his sentence, a sharp rap was heard on the wooden door to Shennum’s office. Easing it open, Shennum said amiably, "I’d like to introduce Gauri Adil, Second Chair on the Council of Étaín."

The woman who walked in was one whom Feye had seen many times, though never in person. A tall, slender woman with a dark complexion and long, wavy chestnut hair, she seemed to be in her early thirties. Adorned in a knee length, billowy red skirt with matching long sleeved shirt and wrap-around that ended right above her naval, she was the height of fashion. Carrying herself with a grace and arrogant confidence typical of a politician, she sauntered up to Feye and touched the index and middle fingers of her right hand to her forehead before tilting her chin down in a tiny bow, the common Dwyn greeting. Just enough of a bow to be considered polite, but not so much that she bestowed any undue honor, Feye noticed.

"So, I finally meet the notorious Feye, assassin for hire." Her voice was strong and clear, with a lilting quality to it that one might think belonged to a professional vocalist. Though her tone and posture were friendly in a brisk, business-like manner, Feye didn’t miss the critical eye with which she was being regarded.

This was most definitely the renowned Gauri Adil, Second Chair on the Council of Étaín, the most powerful woman in the city. Many people had approached Shennum before, begging the services of one of his famous syndicate members for a hit on the woman standing before her. Though Shennum was infamous in the underworld of Étaín and among other assassins, he wasn’t pompous enough to allow a hit on Gauri Adil. For nothing that happened in the underworld happened without Shennum’s seal of approval. His connections were many, and any assassination attempt on Gauri would immediately reflect on him, putting his entire operation in a danger not even he was willing to tangle with.

The Council of Étaín held absolute power in the city. There were four chair members, one representing each district of Étaín. Each chair was progressively given more power than the last, starting from the fourth. The first chair held the most power, given the right to overrule any decision the Council came to if absolutely necessary. Gauri was the only woman who had ever made it past Fourth Chair on the Council. She had many enemies, yet she had many friends as well. If she were assassinated, it would mean dire consequences for Shennum and anyone in close association with him, courtesy of the Council, which, among its many other responsibilities, acted as criminal court.

Feye looked long and searchingly into the dark eyes of this woman who on any normal day would’ve been her deadliest enemy. Finally, she asked, "Who’s the intended target and how much are you offering?"

Gauri smiled. Hers, like Shennum’s, did not reach her eyes. "I’m afraid the service I’m here to ask of you isn’t one of that nature."

Feye’s eyebrow’s shot up in surprise. That was certainly something she had never heard before. "Then what, pray tell, are you here for?"

Without missing a beat, Gauri replied, "I want you to find the Scroll of Hyram for me."

A/N -- Because I am a geek and find this sort of thing interesting, I’m going to post the meanings of the names used in this story. I had a lot of fun picking them out.

(Note that the following pronunciations don’t necessarily reflect on the true pronunciations of the words in their original context. This is just how I am choosing to pronounce them for the story.)

Dwyn (pronounced: Dwin) – meaning is unknown, but the name is borrowed from the Celtic god of love.

Étaín (pronounced: Eh - tane) – derived from Old Irish ét, "jealousy". Also the sun and horse goddess of Irish mythology.

Kamil (pronounced: Kah -mill) – means "perfect" in Arabic… this is my sense of irony at work, but you won’t understand what the heck I’m talking about until later.

Gavin Septima (pronunciation: pretty much self-explanatory) – Gavin is the late medieval form of Gawain. Septima is the feminine form of Septimus, which was a Roman name which meant "seventh" in Latin.

Hyram (pronounced: Hi - rum) – variant of Hiram, which possibly means "exalted brother" in Hebrew. Hiram was a king of Tyre in the Old Testament.

Jalen (pronounced: Jah - len) – Possibly a variant of Galen.

Feye (pronounced: Fay) – this is an actual word that I merely turned into a name. I’m not going to make this easy for you though… look it up!

Shennum (pronounced: Sheh - numb) – The last name of a family I found in our old church directory once… whoever knew there were so many families with interesting last names in Montecito?

Tarquin (pronounced: Tar - qwin) – borrowed from the Roman name Tarquinius, who’s meaning is unknown, possibly of Etruscan origin. Also the name of two early kings of Rome.

Lojze (pronounced: Loge g as in the second one in "garage", not the first - zey)

Gauri (pronounced: Gah - ree) – means "white" in Sanskrit. Also the wife of Shiva in Hindu mythology.

Adil (pronounced: Ah - dill) – means "justice" from Arabic adala, "to act justly."

You may notice a certain amount of irony at work in regards to the names and their characters. Heh.

One more thing I thought I’d mention – this alternate world/universe/galaxy is only slightly more advanced in technology than ours. So there won’t be any utterly farfetched devices debuting… unless I come up with something really good. :p