Labyrinth of Eternity

Chapter One

I hear the gasps and murmurs signifying the presence of the student council members. Yet, I make no move to quicken my pace, instead opting to walk slowly in the middle of the corridor. A shadow lands on my book. "Aella," President Han says behind me, with a mix of distaste and resignation, "Sometimes people have somewhere to be while you're idling with your stories, you know."

I turn around to meet the cold eyes of our student council president, President- or shall I say, Princess Han Su Jung of Korea. The second-born of the Korean royalty, third-in-line for the throne - of course if she is able to inherit it from her brother's hands before her time comes. Yet, being younger than the crown prince of Korea doesn't make her inferior in any sense. An intelligent, intuitive and natural leader, she has gained the respect to walk with her head up high without being faced with contempt.

Maybe that's the reason why I find it pleasing to contradict her at every possible moment. She's surrounded with a talented crowd of friends, gorgeous without putting much effort and has a good head placed between her shoulders. Royalty always repulses me, if I'm being honest. It's funny how they get fixed on a throne the instant they're born, never having to work hard for anything.

"I don't care if you're rushing for time or anything. Just because you're a princess doesn't mean that everyone has to clear a path for you, or line up the red carpet, for that matter." I lower my book and turn around with one fluid motion. My eyes land on the companions beside her,  Princess Gina of Italy and Princess Neelam of India, who are assessing me. "Plus, I don't 'idle' with anything," I snap, eyes sliding back to meet her challenging gaze.

President Han only lets out a long sigh. "I don't understand why you're being difficult all the time. Is being in this school not good enough for you as it is?" I scoff at her words but she makes no reaction to signify she's heard it. "First, you never participate in any physical activities, claiming you have a weak constitution that prevents you from doing anything too vigorous. Then you refuse to do assignments as if you'll get a good score just for attending lessons. I'm done with you, to be honest. You're here on a scholarship, aren't you?"

I roll my eyes at her words. If I ever, ever, participate in physical education, I may get too carried away and reveal my capabilities. Not that the high and mighty President Han will ever know about that. Feeling too lazy to argue any further, I am about to retreat back into my book when- "T-to be fair, I heard that she was sent by the royal family in America to study here!" The whispers among students only grow louder.

I turn back to face President Han immediately, only to meet eyes with a blonde girl standing behind her with a terrified gaze in her eyes. "Who told you that?" I demand. The girl seems to step back. "It's only hearsay! There's been rumors going on- Charles never told me though-" "Carla, that's enough," President Han silences the timid-looking girl.

"Well, whatever you hear, you better keep it in your mouth. I have no relations to the American royalty, and I've never seen any of them either." With those parting words, I leave the stunned crowd to go back into my dormitory.

~-~

My phone buzzes as soon as I exit the school building. Upon seeing the unknown caller ID and the familiar, glistening numbers on the screen, I crack a smile. I push the answer button, lift it up to my ears, and say, almost professionally, "Hello, sixty-three."

I can almost hear the smile of sixty-three through the phone. "Carlotta, it's always a pleasure," she replies. Tapping of a pen echoes in the call. "Has anything been up recently?" I dare ask, and she answers with a curt reply, "I finished one of my jobs."

Oh. Somehow, that leaves me with a pit in my stomach. I've never found any joy in killing, despite it being the reason I can make ends meet. Every time someone in our agency finishes a job, one more soul is lost.

All because of hatred.

"Good job," I force out. Sixty-three only sighs, as if she knows me all too well. "I did drag on a bit, to see if the anger towards my target would pass, but my client was persistent. You do know I have no other choice. They'll find other ways to silence me. It was either me, or my target." I can't refute her point, because that's how our world works. A world full of deception, bloodshed and political intelligence, a world that many know exists but refuse to acknowledge. Because of that, people who are forced into such careers are never helped in any way.

"I know, sixty-three. I don't blame you," I tell her to shut down the wall that may rise because of how I always think about the people killed by our hands. "I'll probably be heading to base for updates soon." Sixty-three makes a noise that I suppose is close to a squeal. "We should probably invite 07456 too, for dinner or something," she adds.

"Him? No!" I reject the suggestion almost instantly.  Sixty-three cracks up. Sure, fifty-six is a talented assassin in a way that none have matched, but he's a massive flirt. Most of his victims were taken down because they couldn't resist the magic in the pants of that oh-so-fine man. He is handsome, but he rarely shows his face unless he knows that the person will be dead within the next hour, with not enough time to ever tell the tale of his captivating face to anyone. I bet sixty-three and I are the only ones in base who has ever seen him with his hood down, and I'll give more money to bet that she only wants to invite him to dinner to spend more time staring at those dazzling eyes, hair, mouth and whatever she can find on him. I don't hate him or anything, but his presence somewhat unsettles me.

I sigh deeply while sixty-three continues to laugh. Suddenly, I feel a chilling presence around me, but as I glance around the empty courtyard, I am tempted to brush the thought off - there is absolutely no way someone dangerous will get past the security here. Yet my time as an assassin has taught me to never neglect my instincts, so I say a quick goodbye to sixty-three before observing my situation more intensely.

A shadow fleets by, but it is accompanied by other shadows too. There's too many of them, it'll be impossible to get through them unscathed. I square my shoulders, swallow my fears and say in a voice that I hope is demanding enough, "Who are you?" A figure falls behind me, so I leap away immediately with my knife flashing out. The edge of it catches something, allowing me to slide it hard across whatever surface it is in a flurry.

The adrenaline in me pumping at circumstances I've never thought I will encounter in my school, I clear my vision to zoom in on someone who is now clutching their arm in pain. "You fucking asshole-!" I throw my knife at them, but they dodge it swiftly. Studying his stance, as well as remembering his quick, skilful reflexes, I come to the conclusion that whoever this figure in is well-versed in fighting. Not just any normal fighting either - it is pure, uncontrolled fighting in which the one who is more skilled wins.

"Who sent you?" I demand, my hands already reaching for another knife. Before I can take an aim at the injured figure, someone comes up from behind to cover my mouth. In that moment of panic, I smash my knife into the person holding me immediately, causing their grip to loosen and me to slip away. The knife is protruding out of their waist now. I gasp at the quick movements I was forced to make, turning around to study my environment. "Don't touch me," I growl just as five cloaked figures appear.

The one standing in the middle of the impenetrable wall of figures tilts his head. "We don't want to hurt you," he says, "If only you would come with us like the good girl you're supposed to be."

"As if I will." I grit my teeth, taking the offensive by charging at them with two other knives in hand. However, they are too quick for me, and in seconds I find myself on the ground grossly outnumbered. Where did they learn such fast maneuvers from? How embarrassing, to be defeated by those that aren't even assassins.

"Well, young lady, if you've just listened to me when I asked you to come, you could've saved yourself a whole lot of bruises," the man who spoke earlier speaks up again, referring to the trail of bruises forming on my arm. I glare at him, although I know that it'll hardly be useful in the face of enemies. "Now you're coming with us no matter what."

And, before I can react, they slam a handkerchief in my face, making everything go black.

Authors' note: Our schedule for now is to be posting once every two weeks on Thursdays, but it is subjected to change especially since we have exams too. The next chapter will come out on 11 August, we hope to still see you then!! ^^