Author: Zoebowy22 PM
The feel of a cool dagger between her pale calloused fingers, the dodging of quick steel blades, and the silent but horrifying screams of one who is leaving our world never bothered the young assassin Louisa. But what happens when Louisa is faced with problems she cannot just stab and walk away, what will Louisa do when secrets unravel without her wanting them too.Rated: Fiction K+ - English - Adventure/Fantasy - Chapters: 4 - Words: 7,213 - Reviews: 2 - Updated: 03-17-13 - Published: 01-31-13 - id: 3097211
|A+ A- Full 3/4 1/2 Expand Tighten|
If you were to travel farther than the Birchwood forest, past the Great Sherry Plains, and up the harsh frigid mountains of Crotan you would come upon a land known as Zainpore. The peaceful land was once bare of civilization, only the grazing deer and the chirping birds populated it. But... but once the land was discovered a new kingdom rose into power, seizing every last cave, mountain range and valley. This new kingdom was known as Hawklin, with its scheming and foul acting King Charles left in control. Under the Hawklin family's rule the land has never once reached total harmony. Seeing his wrong actions very few brave men and women began to revolt, to reject the kings total control. These fierce souls have banded together to create what is called by the people "Assassin's Guilds". Feared by the Kingdom and it's people the guilds are considered criminals, and are hated for what they do. There are many guilds but only few have risen among the rest, only a few will stop at nothing until the Kingdom has fallen and someone of worthy stature has taken over. But alas no guild has come even close to defeating the tyrant of a King, would anyone be able to bring peace to the land of Zainpore once again?
About 300 years later...
There was fire, lots of fire everywhere I looked. The flames consumed my bed; the once lovely red fabric was now a charred black. My wardrobe that held all my hand-woven gowns was now gone. But the fire could not care less, it did not even hesitate to burn all my books, blaze my priceless photographs, and ultimately, my life. The fire just kept roaring without a care in the damn world.
"Louisa!" I heard a desperate voice screech through my closed bedroom door. As I unwrapped myself from my sheets, my eyes began to burn and tear. I left my room to die alone, and stepping out I saw that the rest of the house had fallen to the same fate. Everything from the living room area to the kitchen was up in flames, even the banister and the second floor. Maybe this was all a nightmare that hasn't shocked me awake yet, maybe I would have to wait it out.
I ascended the stairs, careful to avoid the torched banister, following the sound of thumps and screeches. Breathing proved to be an increasing challenge; the higher I climbed, my breath was now reduced to pants and coughs.
I tried to call out to the voice, but the smoke wouldn't allow me to use my voice. I began to panic when a large crashing sounded from behind the master bedroom door. "Mama…Papa," I croaked. The door would not budge an inch, but after a few slams it broke off its hinges and fell to the floor. On the floor of the bedroom I saw them, my…my parents. The fire has reduced most of their bodies to ash: I felt a scream form in the pit my throat, but I refused to let it out.
The lack of air was finally taking a toll on my body; slowly my head felt light and my body went numb. I looked at my parents and began to cry. I fell to the floor and threw up whatever was in my stomach. When I got back on my feet I ran. I ran and ran. I flew past the bedroom arch, down the blazing stairs and threw my front door wide open. But before I left my illuminated home I turned back to look at the picture of a dragon mark that was untouched by the flames. Forgetting the useless portrait, how was a stupid canvas supposed to protect me, I continued to run into the humid night. Through all sorts of streets and allies until my feet could carry me no more. I slumped against a slimy stone wall and sank into a fetal position.
I was no longer surrounded by the exhausting heat as well as I was no longer a child with two loving parents. Somehow I knew I was now alone. I finally let myself cry and scream and slowly but surely, my world went black.
"Louisa…pssst…Louisa," A high-pitched voice whispered to me.
"Yes, Bell?" I whispered back, trying to stifle my yawn while rubbing my eyes.
"The Louisa, sleeping and it's during class on top of it. It must be the end of the world," My friend mocked. "Usually you are the one lecturing me about no sleeping in class; it seems as if the tables have turned."
"Sorry. I was up late last night and now I'm clearly suffering the consequences," I whispered back, trying not to attract too much attention to my sleepy state.
Bell ran a hand through her dark raven hair, slightly adjusting her metal clip. All I could do was stare in awe of how luscious and think her curls were.
"I'm jealous of how thick your hair is, Bell," I mumbled, no longer cautious to my surroundings. Before her chocolate brown eyes returned to mine, she adjusted the hem of her tunic. Bell always wore the cutest of tunics, always a different color paired with matching pants.
"Are you kidding me?" Bell giggled and puffed up her well-endowed chest. "I would kill to have your pin-straight golden locks. Honestly, your whole head looks like gold coins."
"Hehe, kill," I sighed.
"Well, you know what I mean," Bell waved her ivory-skinned hand at me.
I was about to mock Bell when a deep voice boomed and my eyes met with cold gray ones. "Ladies, would you like to share your oh-so-important conversation with the class?" The command almost made Bell and I jump from our stools.
"N-no, Professor Licate," I shook as I spoke.
"Then may I return to our lesson?" He mocked me; oh how I so hated when others looked down upon me.
"Yes, Professor," Bell and I spoke in unison.
"Okay, so back to the board," Professor pointed to the chalk board. "In just a few days, the Roost Coliseum will finally be seized in productions. Finally, after 5 long and tiresome years, the Coliseum will be up and running."
The class cheered; I found the noise somewhat annoying. Why would anyone in their right mind cheer on violence? And now we have this disgusting arena where brutes from all over the land could come and celebrate violence together. Our town, once a beautiful and peaceful sanctuary for merchants and travelers, now has this giant stone building in the center of it. Roost was special that way, everyday, along with our regular citizens, we would have a melting pot of visitors. Merchants and Tourists from all over the land would visit our humble town either for the market or as a pit stop. There were so many culture's and appearances that roamed our cobblestone streets, just looking out the window I could see all the diversity within the population.
"Isn't it exciting?" Bell firmly grasped my forearm.
"Totally!" I lied while trying to retrieve my arm from her vicious hands.
"And most importantly, our great King, Charles IV, will be gracing us with a visit to the grand opening of the Coliseum!" The professor gave a fake cheer. I knew as much as anyone that no one liked our gluttonous and cynical king. And now his Royal Highness will be tainting our city, Roost, with his foul aura.
"I heard the Minister of Rockbell will be attending as a royal guest along with the King," My classmate, Jack, I believe, called out from the front row.
The land of Rockbell, just great, another country filled with a bunch of drunks and criminals. The worst part of that land is that they have absolutely no rights for women. By all means, a woman could be raped and killed, and not one question would be asked.
"Like we need him," I rambled to no one in particular. At that comment, Bell shot me a cold glare. To avoid her stare, I turned my head to the window, oh how I enjoyed the slight breeze that caressed my checks. The clock tower showed that it was a little after midday; so close to the end of class.
"Let's hope for safety and peace to our valued guests," Professor Licate clasped his hands together. Most women in Roost went crazy over the Professor. Honestly, I could really blame them. He is smart, strong and good-looking to boot. His hair is as black as night and his eyes are as cold as stone. You would never want to be the cause of his raff, believe me. But really, the Professor was a cool guy, he just had a really short temper.
"Not if the Dove and the other assassins decide to pass judgment on them," Jack commented smugly.
His comment made my blood run cold and made me nearly choke on my saliva.
"The Dove is so majestic and free, hence the title Dove," A brunette girl named Julia swooned. "I don't know, but something about his silky, flowing cape makes me want him to pick me up and carry me across the rooftops!"
"How do even know if it's a man or women, no one has ever met or seen the Dove in person before?" Jack accused Julia; those two were always the cause of classroom debates.
"H-he has to be a he, his moves are so masculine and graceful, hidden underneath that bulky stark white cloak!" Julia and some other girls began some mindless chatter about how muscly the Dove must be.
"What do you think about this, Louisa?" Bell asked while picking at her nails.
As you could probably tell, the Dove was sort of celebrity in Roost. Everyone knew the name and the signature white robe that was always worn. But let's not get carried away, the Dove was an assassin, no less.
"I think it's pretty cool how the Dove travels across town on the rooftops, pretty smart knowing the busy traffic," I answered like it was any other topic discussed in class.
The chatter from the girls in the front row began to grow louder and louder until the Professor slammed his leather-bound book against his table. "Enough talk about the Dove and the Assassin's Guild!"
Everyone was dead silent by the time the dark-haired professor finished ranting.
"Never speak so lightly about those ruthless killers! They are and will always remain criminals!" The professor huffed.
The word 'ruthless' stung; I knew the word was no lie, but it hurt hearing the professor say it.
"Do you thing the Dove'll show?" Bell asked me like a kid in love. Even though she would never admit it, Bell had a huge crush on the famous assassin.
"There is no way to be sure," I smirked.