Fantasy
Original
Original
Chapter One
The sun broke up over the tops of the trees, flooding Granak with early morning light. Birds sang their songs cheerily from the uncountable trees surrounding the town, and somewhere a rooster crowed. Dogs started barking at each other and any early risers who passed their way. Stores opened, as did street vendors who started calling out to the people who were out and about already, wanting them to take a look at their wares.
"Excuse me, young man, why don't you come and look at these lucky charms? You may find one to help you," a vendor said, standing in the way of a young boy, not even in his teenage years yet. The boy's hair was almost black, his eyes were dark as well, and his skin was fairly pale as if he didn't get out into the light of day very often. A black cloak was draped around his shoulders, and a sword rested on his hip that was far too big for him. In his boots, the handles sticking far out, were a pair of daggers. It looked like the boy was trying to play soldier with his daddy's weapons.
"I don't have any money," the kid said, trying to walk around the vendor, though the man got in his way. The boy looked at the man in exasperation, though he didn't seem to notice.
"Just look. See if there's anything you like," the vendor prodded, and no one could miss his eyes darting to the handle of the large sword, the silver shining in the early morning light as well as the gems set into it; or the daggers, their bronze handles standing out against the boy's dark clothing. Reluctantly, the boy looked at the tray of wares that the merchant displayed before him. The boy picked up a coin with a hole in the center. There was a leather cord strung through and tied at the ends to make a necklace. The merchant's head bobbed and he smiled. "That charm will give you imense good luck in whatever you do," he said.
"I like it," the boy admitted. "But I don't have any coins on me." Well, except the one I'm holding, but that doesn't count, he added in his head. The merchant looked thoughtful.
"Do your parents have any coins?" he asked, and the young boy shook his head. He didn't know where his parents were anymore. Even if he did, he doubted that they'd give him money to spend on a little good luck trinket. The eleven-year-old put the necklace back and went to walk away, but the vendor got in his way again.
"How about a trade then, young man? You have a few interesting items there," the merchant said, nodding to the large sword that dragged on the ground and made a squiggly pattern in the dirt beside the boy's footprints. "One of your daggers could easily buy you two charms." The merchant looked excited now that his offer had been made. The boy hesitated. He probably shouldn't relinquish his daggers. What if he needed those? But he could get more. It wasn't like bronze-handled daggers were rare at his place.
"Deal," the kid said. He took the coin that he had just replaced, as well as one that was shaped like a wolf. He looked it over, and the merchant smiled.
"That charm will ensure that you succeed in everything. That plus the good luck charm make a good pair. You'll never fail," he said, smiling widely and showing a few rotting or missing teeth. He held his hand out for his payment. The boy slipped both leather cords over his head, and then removed the dagger from his right boot. The blade was perfectly clean and sharpened to a lethal point. The boy put it on the merchant's tray, and the man's eyes widened with glee. "Thank you, young sir," he said happily, before going off on his way to press his wares onto other unsuspecting passers-by.
The boy started on his way again. Talking to the merchant had taken up a bit of time, and he was supposed to be getting back by now. He hurried through the streets, which were starting to fill up with people going to work or others, like the charm merchant, trying to sell their wares. His sword bumped against the ground and his leg, and he got a lot of strange looks because of it. Imagine a kid running down the street with what looked like his father's sword, an over-large cloak streaming behind him and a dagger's hilt showing from one of his boots. It would be a sight to stare at.
The kid stopped running in front of a fairly good-sized, two story building. On his way, he'd almost plowed down two people doing some early morning shopping, another merchant who wanted to sell some beaded items, and almost crashed into a food stand in his haste. Now he was standing in front of the door to the building, catching his breath and straightening his cloak around his shoulders. With a slight hesitation, he opened up the door.
The building he walked into was a weapon's shop, with a small house on the top floor. Swords hung in their sheaths on the walls. Daggers were laid out on a table. One wall was full of bows, while below it were quivers full of arrows. Each item had a price tag hanging from it with thread, and most of the items were expensive. On his way to the back of the shop, the kid took a bronze-handled dagger, exactly like the one he'd traded, and placed it in the empty boot pocket.
"I'm back, sir," he said as soon as he passed the doorway into the back room. A table and chairs were set up in the center, while crates went all the way around the room, holding new weapons to put on display once the older ones were bought. He closed the door behind him, and stood in front of it, looking at the man who was seated at the table.
The man was also cloaked, though his was brown and the hood was pulled up in order to shadow his face. The boy had yet to see what this man looked like underneath the hood, and he probably would never find out. A bow and quiver of arrows hung over the back of the man's chair, in case he needed them for some reason. "You're late, Damien," the man said, and the boy could feel that he was looking his way.
"I'm sorry, sir. I got held up in the marketplace," the kid said, fingering the charms that he wore around his neck now.
"How did you buy those?" the man asked, standing up and going over to look at the boy's necklaces.
"The merchant gave them to me," Damien lied. He would get into trouble for trading one of his daggers for something as silly as a pendant that probably wouldn't even work for luck. But they looked cool. Damien tucked them under his shirt once the man was done inspecting them. "But I took a look around the castle as you asked, sir." The weapons master nodded and went across the room, to another door, this one heavier than the one behind Damien.
"You will go through your mission tonight. For now, practice, and then help with the shop," the man said, opening the door. Damien obediently entered, and the weapons master lit the lanterns that were around the room before closing the door.
Damien was new to the weapon's shop. He had only been brought in about a month ago, and that wasn't even to help the man with his shop, exactly. No, he had come to become an assassin. The man was a Tester, and Damien was his subject. The boy had been injected when he came, and gained superhuman powers. His were advanced healing and controling fire, neither of which he was very good at yet. However, to help keep himself hidden from the king - who despised these subjects, because all were trained to be assassins and kill him - he had taken the spot of the Tester's shop assistant.
The room he was in was just a bare, stone room with X's painted on the floor. A red target was painted on one wall, and there were burn marks surrounding it, with only a few actually hitting the paint. Damien stood on an X right across the room from the target, and snapped his fingers. Instantly, fire started to lick along his hand, starting out small at first. With a bit of concentration, the fire grew until it became a small fireball, about an inch in diameter. Damien held the fireball up and then pulled his arm back, his gaze locked onto the target painted in front of him. He let the fireball fly, and it hit the wall in a shower of sparks. A new scorch mark sat on the wall, directly under the target. Only a hair's breadth away from hitting that painted circle. A small swear word escaped the child's lips and he tried again.
Every time the fireball hit the target, he would move to a different X and try it from a different angle. The ones that were off to the side were the hardest, since he needed to throw it sideways, though as usual, after a couple of hours he managed to hit the target from every angle, even if it was just barely touching the outside.
Pleased with his efforts - it actually took him a shorter time to complete it today than it had the day before - Damien left the room, and then entered the main part of the shop. Mr. Nilron, the Tester, stood behind the counter while he talked to a man, whose gaze kept straying to a large, jewel-encrusted sword. "Damien," Mr. Nilron barked, making the kid jump. "Grab down that sword for this gentleman, would you?" Damien nodded politely and went to the wall where the sword was. He had to use a step stool to grab it down, though he managed, and slightly struggled with the large weapon as he went to place it on the counter. Damien's own weapons had been removed in the back, as well as his dark clothing. Now he wore the normal, simple clothing of a shop assistant. Brown pants, tan tunic, and simple leather shoes. Most shop assistants wore sandals, though working in a weapon shop, you needed more protection.
"Go straighten the shop while I talk to this gentleman," Mr. Nilron said, and Damien nodded as the Tester turned to the customer, and started talking about the sword. The two started haggling for a price as Damien swept the floor. It bored him to work for Mr. Nilron, though it was a cover up that was necessary. Otherwise, he would get carted away to Yuild Castle dungeons, where all experimental subjects were taken.
Other customers appeared throughout the day. One was a large, rich woman who came looking for a good hunting knife for her son. Another was a boy, not much older than Damien, come to get his first bow so that his father could take him hunting in the forest. Yet another was one of the king's soldiers, which was a rare treat here, who came to purchase himself a new sword. Damien was kept busy, straightening up the shop, grabbing the weapons for the customers, taking care of talking to the people and getting their money whenever Mr. Nilron went across the street to buy some bread for lunch.
Finally, the day drew to a close. People started heading home from the streets, merchants packed up their wares, shop assistants cleaned up the remaining mess and locked up for the night, while the shop owners took their sales money into account. Damien sat right inside the shop, watching as the sun sank below the leafy trees and as the moon took its place. Mr. Nilron had left to go home, leaving the boy in the shop. Damien waited until there was a light sprinkling of stars before he stood, went into the back room, and pulled on the cloak and sword. He also put the daggers into his boots and the charms around his neck, before slipping outside through the back.
The back door led to an alley system, which the boy would follow all the way to the castle. There was a curfew on the city, because at night, dangerous animals entered the city. The king didn't want any deaths to occur from wild animals, especially in the capitol city. So Damien had to stay out of sight from the patroling soldiers, else he'd get dragged back to the shop and left there until morning. But that wouldn't be good. Not if he was supposed to be doing something. And what he was supposed to be doing was extremely important.
Damien took all the back alleys, until they abruptly ended. About ten, fifteen feet in front of him was the towering outer wall of the castle. Guards patrolled up there as well, so that they could have a bird's eye view of the ground below. Twenty feet to Damien's left was the main road, and the main gate that led through the wall. He would have to be quick about getting there, though he was wearing black for a reason.
There was a ten second lull in the guards' rotation where the area near the gate wouldn't be seen. Each lull appeared at the beginning of every other minute, and having that was crucial for this to work. Silently, the kid slipped out at the start of the blind period, slipping to the shadowed wall within seconds, and sidling carefully over to the gate. Above him, he heard the thuding of armored boots going across the stone wall, and froze whenever they paused. "Stupid bugs," the guard muttered, going on his way again. Damien looked nervously up above. The blind period would be shorter now because of the guard's hold up. But he'd have to make do with what he was given.
At the gate, Damien placed his hand against the cool metal. It was cold enough to burn him, and he pulled his hand away quickly. Fire flowed through him naturally now, so he was always really hot, and cold things burned him. Biting his lip, Damien placed his hand against the metal. Steam rose gently from it, and he had to stop himself from shouting out in pain. His healing quickly made the pain vanish and healed the burn mark on his hand, though. With his other hand he grabbed the charms that hung around his neck, as if they would help him.
Damien did what he had done during practice - he conjured up a fireball. With his hand still there, the fireball was shoved between his hand and the metal, where it started to eat away at the gate, molten liquid dripping down. It took ten minutes to get a sizeable hole in the bars. Now was the harder part.
There was fifty feet between the outer wall and the door, with a fountain halfway between. The hard part would be getting behind the fountain at a good time, and then getting through the large door within the alotted time frame. Damien waited until a pair of footsteps passed right overhead before running silently towards the fountain. That part was easy; he reached that without being spotted and crouched behind it, his sword scraping the ground gently. Now he had to make this part fast. It was the most dangerous part.
As soon as the next guard's blind point started, Damien hurried over to the door, grabbing one of the large handles and pulling. Unfortunately, it was bolted from the inside. And his seven seconds of no-spotting time were up quickly.
"Hey, you!" one of the guards shouted from his spot, and Damien turned around hurriedly, looking like a scared little kid caught doing something he wasn't supposed to. Which was actually the truth, since he was a scared little kid, and he really wasn't supposed to be assassinating the king.
The guard's shout had attracted attention, and other soldiers started hurrying towards the source. "Time to go," Damien said to himself, making a mad dash for the gate that was rising up to allow the charging soldiers to enter. It was also taking his escape route higher and higher. Luckily he managed to slip through the hole he'd made, though his sword got caught and there was a metalic snap as the blade was broken off of the handle. The sword slipped free, in two pieces now, but Damien didn't care. He ran into the alley at the same time that the soldiers that had been patrolling one part of the town came down the main road towards the castle.
Damien's slip into the alleyway hadn't gone unnoticed - that was evident by the thundering footsteps of the soldiers behind him. He picked up the pace, holding a stitch in his side and panting. In an attempt to lose his persuers, he kept back-tracking and taking unnecessary turns. But no matter which way he ran, he was always followed. Eventually, he made it into the middle-class section, and slipped into an open doorway before the soliders turned the corner. Their thundering footsteps passed by the building, going after the kid that wasn't there anymore. Damien caught his breath inside of the building - which was actually someone's kitchen - and slid outside again, sneaking down to the lower levels. It took him about an hour and a half to reach Granak's wall, which was an attempt at protecting the people from wild animals.
Silently, he went and disappeared into the surrounding trees. There was no reason to stick around. The boy didn't want to be an assassin anyway. He'd been looking for this moment to go off on his own for a while now, and now that he had the chance, he was going to grab it. If he was spotted near the castle again, he'd be arrested anyway. He wasn't going to risk it. So he disappeared into the night, ready to fend for himself in the forest, with the help of his daggers and possibly the broken sword. Though he didn't know how much help that would be. So much for my lucky charms, he thought before being swallowed by the darkness.
