Silent Assassin

[supenova]

Warning: contains mild violence and swearing.

Long time passages of italics equal Kien's thoughts.

Rien sat silently, the blood throbbing in his temples so hard it hurt. He gripped the knives hard, as if he felt they were the only things that asured him he was real. But he didn't want to be real, he wanted it to be a dream, and he'd wake up in a peaceful world where people didn't tear each other apart each night.
But no, it was May the sixteenth and midnight, and he was about to make his first kill.
Rien shook all over, staring at the cloaked woman over by the tree. His stomach churned as he saw her picking furry moss off the trunk and shoving it into her mouth, while she clasped her throat as she swallowed it, stopping her throwing it up.
"Revolting," Laskia hissed. "Kill the spake, Rien, she's too low even for the Hallowed."
Rien didn't respond, he closed his eyes and dreamed back to when...
And what comes next? Ever since he was a child of not yet one there had been fighting. He could remember his feisty sister holding him hard as the scarlet fire scorched the forest. She held him close and promised him she'd keep him safe.
She'd kept him safe, all right, but not happy.
"Oi!" Laskia hissed, tugging his long, blonde hair hard.
"Ouch!" he yelped, slapping her hand and patting it back into place. Laskia put on a stupid face and twirled her hair between her fingers in a crude immitation, as Rien's cheeks flushed a painful meat-red.
Rien's hair was dark-gold and glossy, hanging round his face in silky, wavy drifts. A long side-fringe hung in his sky blue eyes, making him look about six. His pale face and tinged cheeks didn't help, either. He had a black cloak, with silver markings engraved on it, and a long black hood that hung in his eyes. He looked sinister then. But as soon as he pulled back his hood his little face was exposed, and then he simply looked like a guy from a boyband doing a weird hip-hop dance routine in dodgy a costume.
But back to the assassination. On your sixteenth birthday at midnight, so long as you were a part of the Assassins, pawns of the Vaiks, you made your first kill.
"Go on," Laskia snapped, shoving her brother hard. Laskia was a trained assassin and was favoured by the Vaiks, though they had doubts about her blonde-haired, pretty-boy brother.
You just don't have blonde hair if your an assassin.
Rien stumbled forwards stupidly, knives clutched in either hands. He held them out and pulled up his hood, shadowing his face. The pathetic woman turned round, and to Rien's dismay there was another child with her, a girl of fourteen with long coils of indigo hair and magenta eyes. She had a red-orange butterfly on her hand, which looked just as started as they did.
I can't do it.
"Ha ha! Times two!" Laskia cried. "Kill 'em, Rien, Karloi will be thrilled!"
Rien, willing her to shut up, turned round and glared at her. Laskia suddenly screamed and collapsed to the floor, clutching her head.
"Run!" mouthed Rien to the Dreamweavers.
Wasting no time, they scuttled off, saying nothing of thanks or even a nod.
Laskia groaned and sat up, her palms clasping the ropes of her scraggly hair.
"Urgghh," she groaned, wheezing. "Get them little pricks, Rien. Give them a stamp on the face from me."
Rien ran off before she could notice it was him who'd done the charm, not them. He wanted to find the girl and mother and take them to safety. He wanted to see the Dreamweavers and hear their story, he wanted the war to stop, he wanted to be free from being poisoned to kill innocent people, he wanted to meet the dragons and learn about them, he wanted to see the world he lived in, he wanted to kill the entire opperation of the Vaiks and bring peace...
But we don't always get what we want.

He'd been running for ages. Though a useless fighter, he was very agile and fast, and seemed to know excactly when to turn and almost see things before they happened. It was like he was a step in front of everyone else. It doesn't seem like much, but those things start to add up...
He saw a drift of indigo hair.
"HEY!" he shouted. "WAIT!"
Lunging forwards, he tumbled over onto the two people he'd just 'saved'. The mother started to scream and sob, the girl whimpering.
"Sh sh sh..." Rien whispered, putting his fingers to his lips. "I don't want to hurt you.."
"Mama!" the girl cried, struggling away from Rien and under her mother's cloak.
"Look, just let me help you. If you keep running they'll only find you. You need food, not moss or mould. I'll get you something...just follow me."
You'd have to be mad to trust an assassin, obviously.
But this one is worth the risk.

[supenova]

"Come on!" Rien hissed, pulling up his hood. "Before someone sees you."
The two Dreamweavers scuttled obediantly towards him. The mother's eyes kept flickering towards the knives in Rien's pockets. Rien noticed her startled face and pulled them out in each hand. She flinched and gasped.
"It's ok," he assured them. "I don't ever, ever want to use them. Least of all on you."
He placed the knives underneath a heavy rock so they were out of sight.
The young girl's lip trembled, and her eyes filled with tears. She pulled back her hood, her hands clutching her indigo locks.
"Thank you," she whispered, reaching out and holding Rien's hand. "Thy art kind, thank you. Lakari counts your soul with great emphasis, if thy truly and kind as yourself."
I nodded and smiled weakly, but I knew I had to get us away, before Laskia noticed and went in search of more assassins to hunt us down. I'd die (literally) if I was discovered helping the Dreamweavers.
But perhaps I'd better explain the whole Assassin thing. Many, many years ago, a war was fought. It was between the Dragons and the Vaiks. Each worship a God, Lakari (dragons) or Tsuataki (Vaiks), and believe that they must fight for the planet, so that either God can return home and restore peace to the planet. Assassins and Dreamweavers also play a huge role. Assassins are the Vaiks pawns, while Dreamweavers are the Dragons'. The dragons treat their workers with much respect unlike the Vaiks. We have to earn our keep and if we betray, make a terrible mistake or are just not good enough we are thrown away to join the Hallowed - a forgotten tribe who live under the frozen surface of the Mirror Lake.
Dragons love the Dreamweavers no matter how strong or weak they are. They never leave one to die and believe that Lakari made us not of many souls, but as one soul divided between us.
Dragons aren't the firery lizard creature you'd suspect. They are humanlike beings of devastating beauty and wisdom. Their elaborate hair twirls finely round their scalp in styled drifts of every colour, and they have pure white horns rooting out of their locks. They have wings to soar and can channel each element through their hands, as they believe in a more keep-your-distance approach, while assassins and Vaiks have a get-stuck-in-and-show-'em-what-you-got tactic.
And ever since I was eight, I have longed and longed to be a Dragon or Dreamweaver - one of the Peacekeepers. We aren't really anything to do with peace - unless you call it Peacethrottlers.
What a bold thought, though. To say that aloud I would be taken prisoner and torn from everything I knew. Laskia would abandon me and I'd be left to rot.
And no one would care.

"Come," Rien said, urging the Dreamweavaeis (female Dreamweavers) forwards.
He walked alongside them. Little words were said, until Rien finally asked them their name.
"I am Forte, and this is my mama, Lolai," said the indigo-haired girl. Rien smiled, properly this time. Forte gave a shy smile back.
"I suspect you're hungry," Rien said, as they wrapped their ugly brown cloaks around them, shivering. At least Rien's outfit was warm, comfortable and quite stylish, made of the strongest Cortam and leather, with real hammered silver engravings on it.
"Follow me," Rien told them, as he ran up to the edge of a scarlet cliff.
He leapt off and fell through the air. The icy breeze blew up into his cheeks and cloak. He leapt quickly from cliff to cliff until he landed in a pretty awesome way on the dusty orange floor.
Forte and Lolai clambered down after him. He lead them into a murky black cave.
"Licario Tusiati!" he chanted.
There was a blinding flash, and a ball of glowing white light whizzed through the air above them, leading them to the heart of the grotto. There they found the remains of firewood and lit a blazing inferno.
Venturing out once more, Rien came back holding an enormous shell of Mauve Wine and three large birds. They enjoyed a delicious meal of roasted Quate.
Fine when your there, of course.
But when you come back...?

[supenova]

Rien waited until they were deep asleep. Could he stay with them? No, he thought, they'll suspect. He stood up and started walking out of the cave. He peered at them, quivering in their sleep, then tore of his cloak and wrapped it round Forte. Walking out of the cave finally, he was trembling. Rien was sure it wasn't just the icy cold that was making him shake, it was the fact he was paralyzed with fear. He leapt up the cliff, telling himself that he'd done the right thing, even if he was going to be shouted at for his rubbishness. He knew exactly what Laskia was going to say, do. He walked soundly throught he forest, listening to the gibberish chatter of spakes. He sat down on the rock and tugged at his hair, harder and harder. Suddenly there was a large STOMP behind him and he pulled out a huge lock.
"Laskia," he hissed.
"Did you get 'em?" she demanded.
...
"RIEN!"
"I-I...no..."
"For God's SAKE!" Laskia shrieked. "You're so useless!"
Rien bowed his head, and looked ashamed. He knew contradicting her would result in pain - lots and lots of it.
"What's the lord gonna say?" she hissed. "What am I gonna say? 'Oh, I'm sorry, my pathetic, useless brother is so crap at assassination he couldn't even catch a totally smashed mother and a stupid KID!'"
"I know I'm rubbish! Just SHUT UP!"
Laskia clenched her bony fist and thumped him hard in the face. Rien staggered backwards and hit his head on the rock.
I feel like a bloody ball - litterally. Back fourth, back fourth, bang bang on my head.
Rien dabbed his mouth and was alarmed to see his scarlett hand. Laskia had of course thumped him before, but never quite so hard. A few bruises on his face - a black eye if she was pushing it - but never really bleeding. Rien stared at her and Laskia burst into tears.
"I'm sorry," she sobbed. "But we've got nothing left, no food, no water! We'll be stuffing our face with mould if we don't start getting some money!"
"I know," Rien mumbled, a sour bit of guilt in his blood. It felt like the lovely meal he'd just eaten was stirring in his stomach. Why couldn't he kill them, like everyone else.
It can't be that bad if everyone does it.
It can.
He couldn't kill them, he knew he couldn't. He thought about Forte, the terrified look of innocence and begging in her magenta eyes. A tear trickled down his cheek. Then the wind cut across it and tore it in half.
Torn.

[supenova]

That's it.
I'm going to do it. I'll close my eyes and stab them. I can still remember where I put the knife, under the big rock. I had to do it, otherwise I'd die, for none can live while the other lives - at least not a life worth living.
Rien wiped his eyes fiercely and tried to be firm with himself. He peered round.
Laskia wasn't there.
She'll have gone home, he thought, and started walking slowly along the cliff. His legs were shaking so much he felt they'd snap. As he saw the rock in which the knife was beneath he heart gave a horrible lurch, like it'd just jolted to the left. Shuddering and shaking, he bent down and shoved the rock to the right. He waited to see the gleam of silver metal.
But...
It wasn't there.
What!?
How, has it fallen, or something?
Rien searched through the tufty blades of grass for anything, but there was nothing but agonising stinging-blades. Along with that, as he investigated further into the woods, though Rien knew the knife couldn't possibly be there, he saw something terrifying.
It was a huge plant. It was covered with inky black liquid, with frayed leaves that were acid yellow, and a shrivled brown stem. On top of it there was a large flock of crimson petals, streaked with dark orange and black. In the midist of all the petals, there was a sort of pouch with a weird snout. The leaves rustled, and the head of the flower twitched. It rose slowly into the air, fanning out its beautiful scarlet petals. Rien stared at the yellow pouch as it seemed to draw breath. Then it spat out a huge ribbon of venom, but at the floor, not him.
"LEAVE!" came a hissing voice. Rien couldn't locate it, it seemed all around him.
"YOU ARE NOT READY! Once killed a being, come back here and recieve your Cat's Eyes."
There was a ghostly figure in front of him. It had long, slender limbs and slithers of glimmering jewellery on every limb. Gleaming rubies and sapphires were plaited into her jet black hair. Two bat-like ears poked out of its locks. It wasn't a pretty creature, at least, not its face. It skin was pinched and tight, cheekbones jutting. Inky black rings were lathered round its eyes, which were empty and lifeless, like black holes in the midst of an empty sky.
Rien scrambled off, tripping onto the rock, gasping. He wiped his forehead with his gloved hand. He wiped his eyes too, to make sure there was no venom in them. He couldn't help noticing that Laskia had these inky rings surrounding her eyes too.
Cat's Eyes...

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