Mask of Deceit

Prologue: Mask of Deceit

Prologue:

The wide halls of the great castle were teaming with the bustling crowd of the royal house. Gentlemen in their long black waist coats, strutting around with out-thrust chests argued about the state of business with one another. Further down, the ladies of the house walked quickly, their skirts swishing, and heels clicking against the stone floor. They talked in hushed tones, gossiping about the upcoming party. All seemed well, the smell of perfume was in the air, and everyone had little of importance on their mind.

An unaccompanied man silently glided and slipped past the others. He was moving against the crowd, but was unnoticed, for he was trained in the art of silence. He was an assassin, one of the emperors loyal followers. He moved at a fast pace, and was dressed in normal royal fashion. His bright hazel eyes flickered around, watching the royal guard out of the corner of his eyes as he passed them.

He hunched in his shoulders and moved closer into a mans side, who sharply turned his head to look at him. However, one of the guards recognized him despite his efforts to be hidden. One widened his eyes, and with a white gloved hand pointed and yelled at him to “Halt!” in a loud booming voice.

In dangerous situations he had been taught to stay clam, but his composure crumpled as he heard the pounding of feet start to chase him. The people around him stopped and levelled stares at him. The ladies brought their hands to their red stained lips to draw in astonished gasps. He walked faster, pushing and prodding to get past the enclosing crowd. Turning a sharp corner he saw it was deserted. Pumping his arms he encouraged his body into a breakneck sprint. His steps hardly touched the ground, his run was swift and silent.

“You there! Stop! You are wanted for treason against the emperor!” A different voice yelled from behind the corner. His heart started to gain speed, it pounded against his chest and sent blood rushing to his ears. He ducked down a dark, long corridor and pressed his back into the sharp stone. He quieted his puffing breathing, and straining his ears he heard the group of footsteps stop at the mouth of the hall.

The guards stern eyes swept the hall and, seeing no one, barked to the others. "Move on, he's not here. And quickly!”

For tense seconds he stood rigid, looking around the corner and into the distance he saw crowds huddled, talking eagerly about the scene they had just witnessed. Whispers moved fast in the castle, and now with his appearance known he wasn’t safe.

The corridor was dusty and unlit, obviously a place that was not of much use to the emperor and empress. There were three doors on each side of the hall, of heavy dark oak wood. Detaching himself from the wall, he went over and opened the door. The latch clicked as it opened, the door swinging on rusty hinges to reveal the room. Richly embroidered carpets adorned the floors, dark red velvet couches covered by white sheets. Paintings hung on the walls, not visible from the dust coating their surfaces. In the furthest corner of the room a wooden opening was concealed.

Grasping the bottom with his dirt stained fingers, he pried it open, sliding it upward and ducking under. He shut it gently, taking a step back he stumbled and almost fell. Stretching his arms out to full length, his hand connected with the dampened walls, by this he steadied himself. Before him hundreds of steps led down, with other passages branching off to different rooms around the castle.The twisted staircase was lit by lanterns hanging on the wall every few feet.

This was the servants halls, where they could travel about doing their chores unseen. For those who did not travel the many different passages, it was easy to get lost. This is what the assassin thought as he stood on the top step. From where he was the the only direction to go was down, for all the passages led to the same place, the servants corridors and kitchens. He carefully proceeded downwards, the stones worn and slippery from the years of use. Spidery lights cut across the walls of the staircase, shadows dancing around the edges of the stones. A flutter of colour he glimpsed at the bottom of the staircase, the rustling blue skirts of a servant girl just before she turned a corner. He advanced towards her, careful not to make any sudden noises. She was journeying to a room upstairs, for the passage she was in led upwards on the stone steps. He was soon almost stepping on her skirts for he was so close. She was carrying a bucket heavy with water, it was sloshing out from the sides. His footsteps were masked by her heavy breathing as she turned a corner and started the trek up the stairs. Her feet slipped on a patch of fallen water, and she realized a fall backwards down those stairs could mean death. She let out a shriek of fear but her scream was cut of short. She felt a small amount of pressure on her back, almost like someone was pushing her upright. But that’s impossible, she thought as she looked around the gloomy staircase. I must have somehow found my balance, lucky for me. Still shaking from the fright she continued upward, careful to place her slippered feet steadily on the steps.

The man stood crouching a few steps down, he had just saved the girls life. He seemed remarkably calm, he pulled nervously at his earlobe and only by that slight gesture could you tell he was shaken. I only saved her because I need her, he thought. But he knew he could never be a true assassin, and that was why he and the others had a plan.

Further up she had come to the end of the stairs, and by the sliding wooden door she slipped through. Just seconds afterwards he did the same. Sunlight streamed through the wide windows, sending the white walls a glowing. The wooden floor almost shone because it was so clean. But orders were orders so the girl looked at it, and sighing started to wash the floor.

The man had a different reaction, and his breath caught in his throat as he gazed around. Having lived in the palace all his life he should be used to the elegance of the rooms it contained. However having to work with death by his side his entire life, he had learned to take pleasure in the beautiful things in life. With a slight shake of head he brought himself back to the task at hand.

Along with his other thoughts he couldn't also help feeling relieved that he was soon about to be released from his job forever. He would be able to live in peace with his family and wife, far away from the awful secrets of the palace. For his people had not always been the assassins for the emperor, it was by good intentions that they had come forward to present their power to him.

With difficulty he relaxed his body, loosening his shoulders and rolling them. With his feet gliding he drew closer towards the girl. She had little time to react as his fingers found her throat. As his grasp found the sensitive area at the point on her neck , he applied just the right amount of pressure. The servants legs collapsed out from under her, her body going limp with unconsciousness. He gently lowered her to the ground, her head lolling onto her shoulder. In a last tender gesture he swept her silken blond hair out of her eyes and laid her out like she was sleeping. When she awoke it would be like she had just fainted,the memory of fingers brushing her forehead just a dream.

It was time. This was why they had been used for assassins for so many years. Why they were being hunted down by the guards, because the emperor could not let them slip from his grasp. He held her arm, because you had to be touching the person you were going to transform into. He found the small part of his brain that allowed him to mask himself into another body. It was sensitive to the touch as he put mind body and soul into morphing. It took years to make the change quickly, more years to even tap into the energy that allowed them to switch body’s. It started at the roots of his hair, his brown hair starting to flow and lengthen, changing gradually to blonde. His features rearranged themselves, becoming feminine, his skin softening and freckling. The clothing rustled, the stitching started to break, seams ripping and reforming into a dress. The black of his suit was slowly fading into soft light blue.

In a matter of seconds there was no longer a man and a girl, but two girls, one sleeping and the other crouching. They were identical to every last freckle.

The assassin opened his eyes, now a flat dark brown, as if a soul was not shining within. That was the only thing that was different. He always had to keep his mind on keeping the illusion, if he didn’t he would change back into his true form. He heard something, turning his head he realized it was the end for him. A guard was taking a step back, panic etched on his face, his mouth opening to let out a strangled yelp. More guards filed in after him, the commander was the only one who didn't look surprised out of his wits. With a note of finality in his cold voice he said, “Take him to the dungeons.”