Chapter One: First Light

A Chapter by robin vega

I slowly washed my face with cold water in my room. The frigid liquid cleared my head and helped me concentrate. Today was my big day. After a bit of last-minute checkups, I’d be on my way. Finally, the pleasure of killing the Family would be mine. It had been a day since Master had assigned me my mission.

I tidied up my hair briefly, making sure it wasn’t in tangles. It was impractical; I’m supposed to look my best. To be honest, I was unused to having to worry about my appearance beauty-wise. Mostly I only had to worry about whether I had killed the person or not.

I gave a final looked at myself in the mirror before departing. Small frame, five foot three and roughly 110 pounds; small and lithe. Dark brown, wavy hair with copper and gold highlights that goes down to my shoulder blades. Creamy, smooth, brown skin traditional for a common Yvennan and bright, burning amber eyes with slightly cat-like pupils, all present. Yep, everything was normal about me. Except that my ego was about to get a whole lot bigger.

I took my bag off of my bed and left my chamber. My footsteps echoed down the hallway as I stepped confidently down the stone corridor, and my black cotton clothing made it easy for me to move freely. My heat beat faster in anticipation and adrenaline started to flow through my veins. As I opened the door, the cold autumn air hit my skin. Scattered across the walkway were vibrant leaves in all different colors: orange, goldenrod, scarlet, crimson, and chestnut. The wind danced them around across the concrete in circles, leaving whispers of sound echoing in the cool midmorning air.

As I walked down the concrete road to town, I began to see merchants lining up along the side of the road, looking for traders to strike bargains with.

“Oi, young miss!” A gravelly voice called out to me from my left. “Won’t you say hello to your best supplier?” I turned to my left and smiled.

“Ah, Mr. Hawkins,” I said, quietly, veering off to the side. “Always a pleasure.” I gestured to his cart, filled with odd things. “What’s all this, then?”

Hawkins smiled, showing off his crooked teeth, yellowed from years of drinking. “You’re free to browse,” he chuckled. “You have a special discount price called free. I think you might be interested in these throwing knives.” He dug underneath a pile of urns to reveal a set of five small knives, slightly curved. “Curved so they’ll loop back to you, somewhat. Genuine silver blades infused with titanium, with cured leather handles. Won’t find these on the market.” He grinned, bestowing them to me. “Made then myself, special for a lass like you.”

I grinned back to him, fingering one of the knives. Light, I noted, pleased. And very elegant. Shines in the sun.

“How much?” I asked him, leaning on the small cart. I flashed a charming smile, with as much charisma as I could muster.

“Why, lass,” Hawkins leaned towards me. “I said free, didn’t I? Special deal,” He leaned in towards me, lowering his voice. “For those who play the black market, that is.” He leaned back away from me and handed me a small handbag made of russet red leather. “To hold them,” He explained. “Now have a good day, now!” He called to me as I made my way down the road again. I waved behind my back and continued down the road.

I could felt the presence of my home fading from the horizon, the rundown old wooden building on top of the hill. It was where I had honed my skills to perfection. I learned how to blend in to shadows, kill a man using a single pressure point, and throw knives from hundreds of yards away with my eyes closed and my feet bound. Everything I knew came from that house. And I was leaving it behind, possibly forever.

“Move out of the way!”

My head whipped around just in time to see a large black, red and gold chariot barreling towards me. The horses leading it were wild and fierce, and they showed no signs of stopping for a young woman to pass. I dived out of the path of the renegade vehicle, hitting the hard road with force. I cringed with pain and covered my head as the horse’s hooves thundered past me, mere centimeters away from my curled body. I felt a hard hood kick me in the side once, and I clutched it.

“Watch where you’re going!” A loud, masculine, gravelly voice called from the chariot, which screeched to a halt. A man hopped out of the chariot, garbed in the traditional black robes with red and gold accents that signified that they worked in the castle. I shrunk up even more, for if there was one thing I didn’t like, it was the castle.

“Please, Ronan,” A strong voice called from the chariot. A figure stepped out of the large wooden vehicle, draped in creamy white robes, with golden and red accents. I sucked in air even more, trying to keep my face even and blasé. White robes mean royalty, my mind screamed warnings. Run away! He’ll have you executed if he recognizes you!

“Are you alright?” The figure called, approaching me. I recognized the tousled brown hair, streaked with lighter blond highlights, tall silhouette, and the dark blue eyes distinct of the royal family, and the young features, about nineteen. I see you’re injured.” He gestured to my side, which was bloody now. My black clothes had a dark stain on it that would take ages to wash out. I inwardly groaned, dreading the wash.

“Y-yeah,” I stuttered, mumbling and holding my side. “I’m fine, just a bruise.” I attempted to stand up, only to collapse back to the ground in a fit of nausea. My side burned with a ferocious pain, and I groaned quietly.

“Come on, let me give you a hand,” the man said, extending his hand to me. I could see four rings on his hand, and the first one was a solid gold one inlaid with a sapphire. The mark of the Prince, my mind screeched. Tygre, you’re looking at the Prince of Yven!

“Thank you, sir,” I said cautiously, gingerly taking his hand. His grip was strong, supporting, and warm. “I a-appreciate your kindness to a humble woman like myself, Prince Brennan.”

“Oh, please,” laughed the prince casually. “Call me Brennan. We can all spare hearing all my titles.” He wrapped my arm over his shoulders and helped me up off of the concrete. I stumbled along; grateful for the prince…Brennan’s…help.

“Here, allow me to escort you to your destination,” Brennan said, opening the chariot door. “I’d be glad to aid you and I’m sure the horses would be too.” He laughed, gesturing to the soft white seats covered in the finest material in the land.

“Whoa, whoa, whoa!” The same rough voice called from the front of the chariot. A short, stout man came out of the driver and stomped up to the Prince.

“You, sir,” he says angrily, poking Brennan in the chest with a thick finger. “Are supposed to be at the castle, preparing for your suitor’s arrival. Not,” he glared at me angrily, “escorting young women you’ve barely met to who knows where!” The small man panted with anger, his face turning red.

“Ah, come on, Ronan,” Brennan said, putting his hand around my shoulder. “A man must be chivalrous to a lady, especially when she is injured. Besides,” he laughs. “You’re the one who said I need to have more friends.”

Ronan grumbled and turned his back to us.

“Actually,” I interject shyly. “I’m headed to the castle myself. I’d assume you know why, however.” I cast a glance at Brennan somewhat shyly.

“Ah, a suitor yourself?” Brennan says, winking and taking a seat in the chariot. “I’d assume that you’ve dreamed about the moment you meet the prince your whole life, and that you adore his dreamy eyes and--”

“Heavens, no!” I laughed, sitting down gingerly next to Brennan. “My family is poor and we need money. And if by a long shot I inherit some of your royal fortune, then we’d be able to continue work.” I tucked a strand of hair behind my right ear, looking up at the sky.

Not completely a lie, my brain assures me. The guild is your family, and they…we…are poor, and we do need money.

“Fine, then,” Ronan grunts as he hops back up into the driver’s seat. “To the castle!” The horses start to trot along the concrete road. The sun beats down on me with the failing warmth of autumn.

“So,” Brennan says casually to me. “I don’t think you ever told me your name, miss.”

I smiled and brushed a stray strand of hair from my face, feeling heat creep up to my neck and my cheeks. “Tygre,” I say quietly. “Tygre Hawthorne Black. Friends call me Kitty.” I looked back up into those pools of blue and fluttered my eyelashes. “You can call me whatever you like, though.” I had crossed a line, telling him my real name, but nobody knew it anyways.

Brennan chuckled, letting a crooked grin spread across his face. A flirtatious expression crossed his face as he winked at me. “I think I shall call you sexy,” he said chuckling. His eyebrows rose, daring me, inviting me to come up with a snappy comeback.

Smiling, I looked at the ground. “I suppose it will have to do,” I giggled. I nudged his left shoulder invitingly with my right. I realized I was cutting loose a bit, letting too much of my true personality show. The kind and humble girl I was supposed to be going for was dead, and there was just…honestly, I wasn’t sure what it was. Every person I met required a different attitude, a different story. I supposed this would have to do. I was a little lost in thought for a moment, and there was a small silence between the prince and me, just listening to the sounds of the bumbling market.

“So then,” Brennan started, rubbing his hands together. “Are you from around here? You look a little foreign. Your eyes,” he points to them and traces his fingers around them, making a circle, “are unusual colors for an Yvennan. Are you from the south?”

I smiled a little, letting me mind wander. “My family was originally from the south,” I said carefully. “We used to be bakers, all of us. It was a tradition that everyone on my father’s side would be a baker. My mother was so flighty; they said that the longest she ever stayed with a man was a week. Anyways, she met my father while she was shopping. Took a fancy to him, had a few rowdy nights with him, but then they really fell in love.” I sighed dreamily. “It was perfect until they found out that their only child was a girl, unable to continue the family business. But did that stop me? No. I took after baking anyways.” I twirled a little bit of my hair absentmindedly.

“When did you move here?” He inquired. “You said your family was poor, you must never come into the city’s heart. This must all be brand new to you, poor thing.”

I nodded, a little shyly. Secretly, I hoped to explore the city someday. Most days when I went into the city’s heart, I barely ever got to truly take in surroundings since I was either running from authorities or in someone’s bedroom.

Brennan smiled, a little mischievously, as he leaned in towards my ear. I felt his hot breath spilling down the neck of my black clothing, and I couldn’t help but shiver in his presence. I could kill him right there, in front of the whole city, but I decided that it would be easier if I did it alone, and they found him, so that nobody would suspect me and I would get off clean.

“Would you like to see the city in its purest state?” Brennan whispered, laying his hand on my shoulder. “Just you and me, the prince and his plus-one. What do you say?”

My eyes widened as I nodded, grinning like a madman when he gets released from the asylum. I felt my pulse speed up in anticipation to see the city.

“Well, come on then, sexy,” He laughed as he held up his right hand. The chariot came to a slow halt as the horse nickered quietly. Ronan turned his head back to us, an annoyed expression permanently sealed on his unshaved face.

“Why are we stopping?” Ronan asked, breathy and tiredly. “I thought you said we were headed to the castle.” He rubbed his hand through his short brown hair, grimacing.

“Why, Kitty,” he glanced over at me and I giggled a little, “and I are going to have a little tour of the city. You go on ahead and meet us at the castle; we’ll be there in…” He looked at me, inquisitively, and I shrugged, smiling hard. “Give us an hour?” He asked.

Ronan grumbled loudly as he motioned with his hand for us to get out of the chariot. Brennan and I locked eyes as we both grinned. Eagerly, I jumped, or rather, stumbled, out of the chariot and laughed with joy. Brennan took my left hand and waved to Ronan with the other. Ronan did not acknowledge the prince and drove off in a huff.

“So then,” Brennan chuckled, rubbing his hands together. “Where shall we start?”

I laughed as I spun around, trying to absorb everything I saw. The shops, all lined up in little rows, neatly, each building having a little variation in height, and every passing person, doing a different thing. It was new and wonderful, and everything about it was exciting.

“I don’t even know,” I said breathlessly. My side pulsed with pain and I was reminded that I was injured and that I required a healer. “You don’t suppose that there’s a healer around here, do you?” I asked, out of breath. My side throbbed and I nearly doubled over.

Brennan put his arm around my waist, supporting me. “Look over there, to your left,” he said softly. I turned my head, accidentally smacking Brennan in the face with my hair. There was a small shop, all run-down and raggedy, with peeling olive green paint and windows covered by glimmering strands of cheap beads. Above the door was a small, crooked, peeling white sign with gold letters painted on it.

“Madame Elmara’s Remedies and Readings?” I shook my head. “Isn’t that--?”

“Just give it a try,” Brennan interrupted. “I know what you’ve heard about her, and yes, she is a bit nutty, but I assure you: her remedies are very good and work nearly instantly. Very cheap, too.”

“That’s because she’s a witch,” I grumbled as Brennan lead me to the small store. The closer we got, the more I smelled incense, and a little dash of smoke. The door creaked open as small bell tinkled, sending little shivers down my spine. I tightened my grip on the strap of my handbag.

The room was nearly completely dark even before we shut the door. I could see that the floor was covered in fancy rugs of mostly gold, purple, and mahogany, and there were glinting gold glass beads hanging from everywhere: the ceiling, the chandelier in the center of the room, the windows, and the doorways. Nobody seemed to be in the room, and I rolled my eyes.

“You see? She’s not even here,” I complained softly but sharply. “Let’s go.”

But we lingered for a few minutes, just standing there, for some reason hypnotized by the mystery of the place. The scent of herbs flowed into my nostrils and I breathed in, feeling a little groggy.

After a few minutes, I decided to draw the line. “I’m leaving, Brennan,” I declared and started out the door. I was slightly awakened from my stupor earlier.

“Not so fast,” called a voice from in the room. I froze and gripped Brennan’s hand. The voice sounded near, too near for my comfort.

“I expected your arrival,” the voice said again, nearer this time. Brennan returned my grip and leaned toward me.

“Run if anything touches you,” he whispered gravely.

“The prince and his plus-one,” the voice murmured again, extremely close. A hand closed around my shoulder and I shrieked, whipping around frantically, fear coursing through every bone in my body. I came face-to-face with a pair of intense blue eyes, so light and pale they were nearly a light grey. I grabbed onto Brennan tightly in fear.

“And boy, do you two have a hell of a life up ahead.”

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