Chapter 1

This all had started when my master had ordered the death of one Fredrico de Ludo, an Italian man of about 34 summers. He was nothing special, merely a letter courtier. It was routine to me, courtiers were frequently targets due to the knowledge they held. His death was no great loss as he had no family to claim his body, which I discarded into the trench on the side of the dirt road stripped of his letter, gold and clothes. I posed him as though he were attacked by thieves, robbed, and then left to die in the gutter. His heart had stopped before he touched the ground. He had not been made to suffer. I smacked the horse on the rear to send it running back to its' stables. Whether it would make it there or not was none of my concern. Lastly, I distributed the gold and clothing to the street urchins in the town I passed through as I returned to my master to wait until my services were needed once more.

It was a short trip back to Dyme, a small village with a big secret. Most of the townspeople were related to the Order in some way or another, but if they were ever questioned about it, they would deny it even with their last breath. The Order protected the village in return for the villagers harboring the assassins and keeping the secret, but even though the village did not object to our presence many of them did not want us there.

The sun had barely risen when I rode into the heart of the village. A few of the early bird villagers nodded to me while the others looked down at their feet as if not to offend me. Having been raised the way I had, I did not understand the mindset of normal people. They all seemed to believe us to be simple murderers, but we had rules, rules that we all took very seriously.

Disobeying or disregarding our rules was punishable by exile, or a painful death. I had once had to personally oversee the execution of one of my brothers before, and even though I did not truly understand compassion and sympathy at the time, I understood pain and would not wish it upon anyone else. But he was a traitor and our rules were simple. Research all targets, know their routines, know their habits, and most importantly, know their face. Never be seen, if you are seen you put the entire order in jeopardy. Kill swiftly, unless information should need to be obtained torture is forbidden. Kill no one but the target unless they pose a threat to innocents. Obey the master, to question his orders would be to question Thanatos, and the most important of all our rules, kill no one who is guilty of no crime. Typically, this only involved women and children, though there were exceptions.

I disregarded the people in the streets and only took notice of the shadows that I would see out of the corners of my eyes, knowing that they were my brothers and sisters racing towards the villa to notify our master of my return. I kicked my horse into a full speed gallop towards the villa. The idle talk of the villagers was drowned out by my horse's hooves clacking on the stone paths. The smaller buildings gave away and I ran off the path following a worn trail through the tall grass towards a line of trees. Once passing through the trees it was a short distance to the clearing containing the enormous villa which housed us all. I pulled my horse to a stop and jumped down. Rushing towards the doors, I left the horse to its' own devices. The stable boy would tend to the horse and return my saddlebags at a later time.

I burst through the doors, flooding the entrance hall with the bright light of the sun. A sister who had been sleeping on a couch awoken and shielded her eyes while mumbling something about me being a b*****d. I disregarded her and strode further into the building. My eyes scanned the room and found a shadow standing on the balcony by the staircase.

"Dorian, welcome home my son," the shadow said with a voice of both authority and nurturing.

"Master," I called back, slightly surprised by the sound of my own voice. I rarely ever spoke and my voice sounded foreign to me. I climbed the stairs silently passing by a brother who had decided to nap on the staircase. My master greeted me by putting his hand on my shoulder and ushering me into a nearby room.

I was made to enter the room first and my master closed the doors behind us.

"I trust it all went well," he asked while striding across the room to throw open the curtains. Light flooded the room and I could see his face. He was an older Greek man with close cut curly black hair. He had a pronounced nose and bright hazel colored eyes. My master was and still is a mysterious man. None of us know much about his past except that he was once nothing more than an assassin like us.

"Of course, master. I never fail," I replied trying to sound humble, reaching into the pouch at my side to pull out the now crumbled envelope. I passed it to him and he took it from me excitedly. He used a small knife that had been set on a table to open the letter. We never broke seals in case the occasion would arise that we would need to replicate them. After pulling the paper out of the envelope he laid it flat on the table and smoothed it with his hands. Leaning over it with both of his wrinkled hands flat on the table, he read it to himself.

"Ah," he exclaimed, "This is exactly the news we needed. I knew you would never fail me. Especially with something so simple."

"What is so important about the letter, master," I asked leaning curiously as though to peek at what was written.

"Nothing that needs to concern you for now my son. Go, rest. I have a contract that only one on your level will be able to complete," he commanded, giving me an almost sincere smile. I started to object, to say that I could leave now if it were important but he waved me away with a quick motion, and so I left, closing the door behind me and retired to my own room.

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This has a slightly abrupt ending. I'll work on the next chapter in the morning.

I welcome constructive criticism. Grammar, unfortunately, has never been my strongest subject so if you see something wrong please feel free to correct me and if you could give me a reason as to why it is wrong.

I appreciate and welcome criticism and suggestion on how to improve my writing.