The Assassin's Crown

•Chapter one•

EDITED[✓]

October 10, 1963

I was a slave.

Not exactly a slave and although better than the others but a slave nonetheless. We were the few lucky lower ranking individuals in terms of power and authority who were selected to be a part of the team. What team? You may ask. Well, the assassin's team, of course. I like to call it the murderers –in–training association. We've been privileged beyond privileges to lay down our lives for an arrogant fool. A.K.A, the king.

I've been a slave here for as long as I can remember. And I do remember things quite well if I do say so myself.

Before I can indulge in the ever so tragic story of my past, I must first take care of this old bat who seems intent on showing off his dominance with a sword.
Let's surprise him, shall we?

As I switch into my battle mode  I'm suddenly a new person. I pick off my sword from the ground and my stance changes, my feet slightly apart. I play on the defense for a while, my sword automatically blocking every swing determined to uproot my head. I would like to keep my head, thank you very much! Switching onto the offense, I duck going under his arm trying to strike him from behind. Of course he knows what I'm doing and blocks with his own sword. With a snarl in his lips he slices my cheek, the snarl transforming into a satisfied smirk.
The wind makes the sting of my cheek worse. Distracted, he pins me to the ground with the length of his sword on my throat.
A little more and my head would roll on the ground like a deflated basketball...hehe, sorry. Gory much?

Anyway back to the task at hand.
I knee him in his lower abdomen. That throws him off balance. With mere seconds left to strike before he finds his footing, I jump up and block his sword before it slices my other cheek.

He gets up too. A little less graceful than I did, but hey no one's keeping records.

He aims for my ear with his sword but I counterattack it with mine, twisting it in such a way that his sword ends up lying on the ground. I point the tip of my sword at his throat and before I can do anything else the siren blows.

Rotten sac of potatoes just got lucky. I would've carved a bloody M on his throat right there and then. He did tell us to make our kills unique, didn't he?

I let the tip of my sword drop and he picks his off the ground. He turns to me, an angry storm brewing in his grey eyes.
I'm not gonna lie, I do feel a tad bit smug at my victory. Take that you mad cow!

"Impressive, for a principiante. But we shall have none of that."  A smug smirk accompanies his raised eyebrows as his hardened eyes stare at me."I'll make sure of it."

Bloody piece of cow dung! He's calling me, me a beginner. Oh I see what he's doing. He's trying to heal his bruised ego. Yup, that's it, he lost to someone of lower rank. It's killing him.

Putting on a serious expression, I look downwards. Yeah, let him think I'm one of his submissive little twits.

He turns away from me. "Dismissed!"

I leave the compound entering a shed where we keep our weapons. I place my sword down after wiping it clean. Just as I'm about to open the door and leave, I pause, hearing voices talking about things I know very well are not meant for my ears.

"She's getting stronger, my lord. I'm afraid she–"

Sounds like Liam but I'm not so sure. Liam is always hounding us to be stronger, so if he's worried about someome getting stronger then I think it's safe to say it's definitely not him.

"No. You will keep a close eye on her. Make sure she doesn't become any stronger than you say she has."

Liam replies hastily, "Yes, my lord."

The voices fade and I make sure there isn't anybody there before slipping out as stealthily as I can.
Just before I enter the servants' quarters– I like to call it the realm of the damned– I see a pair of familiar blue eyes. I'm not a servant. I'm an assasin–in–training. And according to Liam, that's a step up from the slaves and servants.

As his eyes lock onto mine with an amused expression I come to a conclusion.

This can not be good.

Hey, don't forget to vote or drop a comment. I'd be happy to know what's going through your mind. Hehehe...sorry.  A little creepy, I know.

~Beryl.