A Tale of Traitors

The Assassin--Part 2

          He clenched the watch in his fist. Anger pounded in his head and echoed in his soul as he imagined what was inside. The dwarf had told him that it would reveal itself to anyone he chose. As usual, he selected himself, the only one he trusted to get the job done. He set many guards over his mind, preparing for whatever lay inside the head of the warrior.

Ring, ring!

"Yep," he answered the phone with lightening speed.
"You've got it, no doubt?" The low voice sent chills down his spine.
"Yep," the assassin replied quietly.
"What are you waiting for?" The anger in his voice was evident. "My thumbs-up?"
"Yep," the assassin mumbled once more.
"Go. And, believe me when I say," the man's voice reached a whole new level of evil, "if you fail to fix our issue with the warrior, I will ensure that your soul is eliminated."
"I expect nothing less," the assassin clenched his teeth. The man grunted in approval.
"You have no longer than a few weeks," the man snorted. "Probably two."
"Mhm."

Beep.

          The assassin closed the phone and placed it in his leather backpack, in the side pocket where it was most hidden yet easily accessible. He scanned the park for signs of life other than himself. It was a cloudy night, but not windy; every so often, the moon would peak through crevices in the clouds and smile haughtily upon those who wished to see its lovely face. The assassin enjoyed nothing but the darkness, so it seemed; nothing but the darkness could hide his many sins. Nothing but the darkness could wipe his memories or the blood from his hands away. He needed the darkness, thrived within it. He inhaled deeply, letting it fill his lungs and awaken him for the moment. No one else was around, shockingly. Maybe that was because he was in the private court of an extremely wealthy noble whom he had paid to remain silent about his business. Whatever the reason, no one was watching him. He flipped open the Mind Seeker and prepared to hate what he saw. The winds instantly picked up speed, zooming around him in an uncomfortable manner which was almost painful. Blue lasers and fire exploded out of it, encompassing him in the overwhelming warmth and light. Memories appeared in the flames. Regret. Passion. Joy. Pride. Hate. Love.

It was too much to handle all at one time.

He closed the watch and took a few more deep breaths. He glanced at the backpack that lay next to him. He didn't have enough time for this.
"Why does this chick have so many emotions?" He spat under his breath as he prepared to flip it open once more.


"Willow, Willow, Willow! You're never going to guess what he just said about you! He says--"
Nope, that's not what he cared about.
"People aren't like you for a reason, don't you understand? People like you are the ones we have to get rid of. People like you just make everything worse. Won't you just leave me alone--"
Not what he was looking for.


          He suddenly sank into a chair as the room froze in place around him. The floor and walls were made of marble and adorned with gold and silver leaves; the long carpet was a gorgeous royal blue extending down the hall and tied everything together. He knew the warrior didn't live here, maybe she had arrived for a party. The warrior was a close ally and friend of the Elvish queen's, he remembered. The warrior appeared from down a hall, where a ball was taking place. Her dress was plum purple, long, and tight. It was strapless to reveal the honorable paint across her shoulders and down her back. Her long hair was up in a marvelous style that he couldn't describe, since he didn't care much for fashion or intricacy. She seemed to really be enjoying herself. It was supposed to be her last night, and he wanted to figure out how she got away easily when she wasn't prepared for the attack.
          "Wait up, Willow," a man called after her, and she turned around. Instinctively, the assassin ducked behind a pillar.
"Well, hi," she smiled, suddenly blushing when he caught up with her and took her hand.
"Don't be nervous," he said, which made her laugh.
"I'll be fine... It's not that big of a deal, right?"
"If it wasn't a big deal, you wouldn't be nervous," he raised an eyebrow. "But you'll do great."
"Thanks, you, too."
"Yeah, I know."
She rolled her eyes. "Whatever."
Some men from the ballroom started to call for the man, a name the assassin couldn't hear.
"Have a good night, Willow. See you tomorrow."
"You, too." She smiled so wide that her eyes were barely visible.
"Oh, and, Willow--I love you."
"I love you, too. Now get out of here." She laughed, pointing at his friends who were making kissy-faces at them from where they waited.
"Yeah, okay." That's when he turned around and saw them. "Oh, come on!" He yelled at his friends, who roared back in hysterical laughter and congratulations. The party sounds and joy wafted down the hall as she made her way out.

          The scene shifted as suddenly as the first time. She was--where was she? The assassin didn't recognize this hiding spot. It appeared that she had been living there: makeup, clothing, weapons, books, and maps were spread across the small space. It was practically a closet, with a hammock for sleeping strung up high. She was just in her pajamas now, a tank-top and shorts, pulling bobby pins out of her long hair. She was reading a journal that didn't seem to be hers, judging from the way her nose scrunched up in disgust or sadness every few lines. All of a sudden, a loud knock broke the silence.
"Code?" She tapped back in Morse code.
"Una vivere, aut mori solus," a strange voice responded through a hatch that was barely visible from above.
It was as if their conversation was hidden from him, as he blacked out every so often.
"... must watch what you say..." from the mysterious voice.
"How dare you betray us," from the warrior.
"... I don't want to hurt you ..."
"Believe me when I say I won't fight for you--"


"This secret--even I can't keep this one--this has to stop now..."


"Let me help you..."

          She ran blindly through the woods, barefoot and alone while the branches tore through her. Really, what a wonder she hadn't just died there, completely alone. What made her lose her mind? From the moment she left that place, she had started to forget. Maybe the issue wasn't what was said to her, it was how she began to perceive her own self afterwards. He was fascinated to see the one she loved running after her and calling her name as she proceeded to tread across the land of the dead, through the graveyards in the forest where no living soul was permitted to travel. Oh, the irony of being so near to safety and choosing in fear to go the other way. He observed as she escaped his own attempt at restraining the wild woman, and he examined closely the portal she had fallen through. A few inches to the left and she would have landed in an ocean, alone and unable to swim. He watched her take his knife with her. He smirked as her body disappeared over the line. He burst out of the memories and the watch gently shut itself in his palm

Professor Cain was surely aiding the fugitive.

She doesn't remember her friends, he thought. And she doesn't remember her enemies.

This should be easy.