Disclaimer: The only thing I don’t know is Flick herself

Disclaimer:  The only thing I don’t know is Flick herself.  She was created by the awesome artist Christina Joy Sanders.

Chapter 1:  Assassin

            The cloaked figure strode noisily over the forest ground.  Though he did use some care, every leaf rustled, every twig snapped under his weight.  He wasn’t altogether surprised at this.  His thin and agile body had long ago faded into the baggage he carried now.  He thought wistfully of the long black hair he had once possessed, all of it gone but for a few gray remnants.  No, time had not been kind to him.

            That’s why he had been so flattered by Agarina.  He was amazed that something so beautiful could love him, the old man he’d become.  It was true love, he was sure.  She didn’t care that he was married, she didn’t care that he had a son around her age.  She didn’t even care that he was lord of the town of Raseri and one of the king’s most trusted magistrates.  She just loved him for who he was.

            He walked, bemused by his thoughts, his steps slowly growing more careless.  Then the comforting silence of the forest was broke by two words.

            “Hello there.”

The man turned sharply, looking back at where he’d just come.  There, leaning nonchalantly on a tree, was a girl who had not been there before.

“What are you doing here, girl?” he asked, his voice sharp and suspicious.

“Name’s not ‘girl,’ it’s Flick,” she replied with an accent, snapping her wrist as if to prove her point.

The man stared at her, a crooked smile on her lips.  He realized at once that he had greatly mistaken her age.  She was not a girl, but a woman, probably in her twenties.  Her dark blond hair was tied back in a ponytail adorned with feathers, a few loose bangs falling onto her mask.  Her mask.  That was the thing that stood out most about her.  It was white, dirtied with use, bordered by red and covered in red markings.  It covered the whole upper half of her face, hiding everything but her eyes and the slightest tip of her nose.

Those eyes were the next prominent thing about her.  He couldn’t decide what color they were, having never seen anything like them before.  They were like jewels, no rocks, he decided.  Amber. Yes, that’s it amber, he thought to himself.  Two shining stones of amber.

Her elven ears were covered in earrings, ranging from large loops to small stones.  Her wrists were decorated with many bracelets and on each of her fingers was a ring.  Around her neck was first a tight strip of metal, resembling one of the bracelets.  Then she had a loose string of red stones, centered off by a large, white fang.

Flick leaned on the tree and waited as he looked her over.  She always had patience for people as unlucky as he.  After a minute, he brought himself back.

“Well, Flick, what are you doing here?” he asked again.

“My job,” she answered, the crooked smile appearing on her face once more.  Her voice held an air of arrogance, more notable then even her accent.

“And what job would that be?” he asked, wondering why she happened to be at that place.

“Assassin,” she answered breezily, her smiled widening.

The man raised an eyebrow.  This short girl in front of him was an assassin?  She didn’t look too threatening, though her smile was a bit unnerving.

“Okay…” he mused, not knowing what to say, “Well, I must go now.”

He turned to leave, but was stopped with her next words.  “Yes, yes.  The fair Agarina awaits.”

Turning slowly so as not to act suspicious, he asked in a poorly faked carefree manner, “Who is Agarina?”

Flick laughed loud and mockingly.  “You know who she is,” she smiled, “and so does your wife.”

The man blanched.  “I-I have no idea what you’re talking about,” he stuttered, eyes wide.

Flick laughed again.  “Oh really?” she asked.

The man said nothing.

Flick shook her head.  “Tsk, tsk, tsk,” she said, “You ought to be ashamed of yourself.  You could be her father.”

His face began to redden with anger.  “Look,” he shouted, “Why are you saying all this?”

“I need to give some explanation of why I’m going to kill you,” she said, her crooked smile still staying on her lips.

“K-ki-kill me?” he stuttered, going white once again.  He was suddenly aware of how strong her arms looked.

“Oh yes,” Flick answered in a bored tone, “You see, your wife asked me to.  She really is a sweet woman.  You ought not to have been disloyal to her.”

He stood there, gaping, unable to say a word.

“I do allow you a last request, of course,” she said, “And I won’t kill you outright.  We’ll duel.  You see, I’m not completely heartless.”

The man’s heart lightened at her words.  It would be a duel.  Surely he could beat this girl in a duel.

“Well, your last request?” Flick asked, looking at him expectantly.

He thought for a moment, then remembered Agarina. “To be given until dusk for the duel,” he answered.

Flick smiled crookedly.  “Very well,” she said, “I’ll give you until dusk.  But don’t even think of bringing anyone along or telling them of our duel.  I’ll hold you to your honor.”

He nodded, smiling.  He had no intent on telling anyone.  He’d be able to take this girl in a duel without help.

“Very well,” Flick smiled, “You’ll be seeing me here at dusk then.  Be sure to bring a weapon.”

“I will,” he answered arrogantly.

“On your way then, Lord Diméark.”

The lord turned and left, on his way to Agarina’s house.  After a few moments, Flick went after him, her bare feet landing noiselessly upon the ground.  She had no intention of holding him to his honor.  In her mind, human kind had no honor.

At dusk, the lord came back, finding Flick leaning against the tree once more.  He had no idea that she had followed him the whole day, just slipping by him to be there first.

“Well, you ready, m’lord?” Flick asked mockingly.

“Yes,” he answered, holding up his head, a confident smile on his face.

He took off his cloak and unsheathed his huge sword.  Though he rarely practiced now, Lord Diméark had once been a champion swordsman.  His confidence was brimming.  He turned to Flick.  Around her waist she wore a rope belt and on one side was a sheath.  This she reached to and pulled out not one, but two small swords.  Each blade was about eight inches long and the hilts were very simple.  They looked helpless when compared to the shining blade and golden hilt the man held in his hands.

“You say when to begin,” Flick smiled, “I’ll make it quick.”  It wasn’t the same crooked smile that she had before.  This one was wide and straight.  Where as the first had been unnerving, this one chilled the man to his bone.  For the first time, he thought that it was possible for him to lose.

“I’m sorry that I must kill you.  I really am,” Lord Diméark said, trying to make his voice strong and authoritative, “Begin.”

First, the two slowly circled each other, seeing how each wielded their blades.  Then suddenly, Flick rushed toward her adversary.  The man brought his blade up and brought it down just as Flick reached him, trying to hit her head.  This attack she swiftly blocked, crossing her blades and holding them up against his sword.  They held together for a moment, and then broke apart.

It was Lord Diméark’s turn to attack.  He swung his sword in every direction at Flick, hoping to break through her defenses.  However, she blocked each attack skillfully with one blade or the other.  The small swords held strong.

Finally, feeling angry, Lord Diméark took his sword in both hands and swung down hard at Flick.  She crossed her blades once more to block the heavy blow.  They both strained for a moment, hoping to tire the other out.  Then, Flick acted.  With one blade, she pushed hard on the man’s sword, causing it to go sideways.  With the other, she slit the wrist of the now exposed arm that held his sword.

Lord Diméark gasped in surprise and pain, dropping his sword.  Falling to his knees, he grasped his wrist, trying to dull the pain, then looked up at Flick.

That straight, horrifying smile adorned her face.  “You lose,” she said simply.

“Please,” Lord Diméark said, horror in his face, “spare me.  I’ll give you anything, anything at all, just don’t kill me.”

“Sorry,” replied Flick, still smiling, “I made a deal with your wife.  I never go back on my deals.”

A scream of pain and terror echoed through the forest, silenced quickly by the plunging of a blade.

Flick carefully cleaned her bloodied blade with the cloak of her victim, then placed it in the sheath with its brother.  She turned back around and picked up the man’s large sword from where it had fallen.  She wrapped it in the cloak.

“Proof of the deed,” she muttered to herself, putting it over her shoulder.

She then went off silently into the forest, leaving the body to be found the next morning.

~*~*~

A/N:  Well, I hope you like it so far!  Next chapter should be up soon.

            Be excellent to each other!

            -Ady