Chapter 5

I'm seventeen now.  Ezra has grown to be like my sister.  We still share a room, but I still don't mind.  We helped each other bandage and clean our wounds ever since the brutal training began.  We still braid each other's hair sometimes.  She's hardly changed, though.  She has the same shoulder-length red hair, though it's darkened to the color of dying flames.  She's still a quiet little girl.  She's about four inches shorter than me and probably thinner than me and less muscular.

When I look at myself now, I can't see the scared, broken child I'd been eleven years ago.  My eyes are a gorgeous hazel with gold and blue in the centers just like my mother's.  I have the stubborn set to my jaw like my father had.  My hair remains white-blond like my mother's had been.  I had it pulled back now into two long fish-tail braids, combined into one ponytail at the top.  I let a few strands of hair loose at the sides of my face.  I'd grown to be golden-skinned and strong.  My legs were long and muscular, my hands callused from handling weapons and climbing things, my body was significantly scarred from countless fights and punishments.  But, I knew I was beautiful.  I was also a full-fledged assassin....Starting today.

As I met Ezra on our way down to breakfast and the ceremony to mark us as Assassins, Ezra presented me with to black feathers half the length of my forearms.  "Raven feathers." she whispered. "To put in your hair.  I washed them.  Don't worry."  Ezra pulled my braids over my shoulders and carefully knotted the raven feathers into the ends of my braids.  The dark feathers contrasted starkly with the pallor of my hair, but I was amazed that she'd actually thought to grab two feathers from ravens for me.

I looked at her and smiled, hugging her tightly.  "I wish I had something to give you in return."

"No need.  We're sisters.  That's all I could ever want from you, Iris."

At the ceremony, the graduating Assassins lined up in front of the room where I'd first met the Assassins of the Black Desert.  The graduated assassins, Adonijah included lined the side wall.  I caught Adonijah's eye.  He winked.

Out of the three of us, I think Adonijah looked the most different.  He'd cut his brown hair short like Malik's and he'd grown taller than me.  His skin was slightly darker than mine now.  He'd also grown muscular.  Not bulky...but, muscular.  As we'd grown up he'd done extra exercises.  One set in the morning, afternoon, and before he went to bed.  

The Assassin's stood before us as they had eleven years ago, guarding the windows.  Malik stood between them and us, his feet shoulder-width apart, chin slightly raised, shoulders back, hands clasped behind him.  He looked as handsome as ever.

"Welcome to your initiation, assassins." he smiled dryly. "As you know, you have three tests remaining that you must complete."

I smiled to myself.  None of us had forgotten the tests.  I knew I'd win, of course.  Ezra would probably be close behind me because she was small and clever.  The tests were: Targets, unarmed battle, and armed battle.  Adonijah stifled a laugh when he saw my smirk, passing it off as a cough.

A few of the Assassins set up targets at different distances.  Two graduated assassins set up the rack of weapons.  Throwing stars were lined up across the top of the rack, glinting in the sunlight that streamed through the windows.  The throwing knives lay in a neat line across a metal shelf in the middle of the rack.  They too glinted in the sunlight, clean and sharp enough to slice neatly through a finger or a neck.  At the bottom of the rack on two hooks was a long bow, carefully carved by an Assassin for perfect weight and durability.  Beside it in a soft leather quiver were the arrows.  The same Assassin who had carved the bow had carved, weighed, and measured the arrows for perfect balance to always meet their mark.

Adonijah was staring at me.  I could feel the weight of his gray eyes on my shoulders.  I looked at him.  His eyes darted to the throwing knives and back to me.  He mimed me throwing the knives, whipping back his invisible braids dramatically while aiming the invisible knife and throwing it.  He looked completely stupid.  I stifled a laugh and he grinned.  I put a finger to my lips to tell him to stop playing around so I could concentrate.

I let myself go last, right after Ezra.  We had to do the test for all three weapons consecutively.  We could choose the order they went in, but we'd have to show our skills with each one before the Assassins would let us go and move to the next person.  

Most did well with the throwing knives. Finding the proper stance and the right snap to your wrist for knife throwing wasn't hard.   Few knew how to throw the stars.  The best was Kadir.  I scarcely spoke to him, but often found myself watching him train.  He was very graceful compared to the other assassins - in - training.  Every movement - no matter how deadly - had an air of inner peace to it.  As he threw the stairs, I examined every inch of him.  He brushed his dark brown hair back, his eyes locked on his first target.  He held a star in his left hand, twirling it carefully between his callused fingers.  He wore a black tunic, no sleeves, sweat glistened on his tan skin.  I watched as he drew his arm back, skillfully preparing his stance.  He held the star between his thumb and forefinger.  The muscles of his arm tensed and he threw the star, his wrist snapping.  The star landed perfectly.  Bull's eye.  I'd seen him do it hundreds of times. 

He landed three perfect bull's eyes.  The fourth was an inch from the bull's eye.  The fifth was three inches from it.  His knife throwing was almost perfect as well.  He landed four out of five bull's eyes.  His archery was jaw-dropping perfection.  

Ezra did badly with the stars, landing two of five.  Her knife throwing was good, four of five.  Her archery was near-perfection too - four out of five - with the last one just half-an-inch from the bull's eye.  

I faced the weapons rack as Ezra walked back to the crowd of graduating assassins, anxiety written all over her face.  I could feel Adonijah's and Malik's eyes on me again.  I didn't dare to meet them.  I plucked five stars from the rack, loving the familiarity of the polished-smooth metal between my fingers and nip of the razor-sharp blades against my skin.  I closed my eyes a brief moment, running my fingers over the stars as I walked to my mark for the first target.  I shifted the four extra stars to my left hand, leaving one in my right.  I took up my stance.  Right arm back, core tight, aiming carefully for the small red dot in the center of the target.  I threw as I exhaled, snapping my wrist.  Bull's eye.  I moved over a few steps to the next target, aiming and throwing.  Bull's eye once again.  No one knew how easy throwing stars were.  They always thought they were harder because there was more than one point to consider.  I aimed at target number three and threw.  Bull's eye.  Target number four: bull's eye.  At target number five, I threw with my left hand to keep Malik from saying that I'd been "relying" on my dominant hand.  I licked my lower lip as I aimed and threw.  I watched as each sparkling point on the star flipped over and over before landing with a satisfying thunk in the center of the wooden target.  Bull's eye.  I smiled, striding back to the rack of weapons for my knives as an Assassin yanked my stars out of the targets.  

The knives were easy, flying into each target like they were magnetized to the bull's eye.  It was like a short dance to me.  Feet shoulder-width apart, arm up, focus on the red dot, throw, snap wrist.  I could whirl through this if I wanted to, but I didn't.  I didn't want to show off.  Malik would be angry with me for that.  

Once I got all my bull's eyes with knife throwing, I turned to archery.  I'll admit, archery wasn't my strong suit.  It's difficult to get farther targets.  Accuracy with a bow puzzled me.  You had to account for wind, the power of the release of the bowstring for different distances.  You had to be familiar with a bow and arrow.  I'm not.  

However, I am confident that I can make at least three bull's eyes.  I knocked an arrow, aiming down the arrow shaft at the bull's eye.  I pulled back the bowstring very carefully, the muscles of my arm flexing with effort.  I let it fly, landing a bull's eye.

I managed three perfect bull's eyes.  The fourth time, the arrow landed exactly two inches from the bull's eye.  The last one was the worst.  My arrow landed at the edge of the center ring on the target.    I groaned quietly, low in my throat as I stared at the arrow, gripping the bow tightly in my anger.  I hid my anger, putting the bow and arrows back in their places on the rack and returning to the group of graduating assassins.  Malik would be so angry with me for that later.  Ezra put a hand on my shoulder, rubbing it gently to let me know it'd be okay.  

The graduated assassins carried the targets out of the room and set up mats on the polished wood floor.  I took this time to stretch and meditate to calm myself for the unarmed battle.  Malik stood at the center of the mats regarding his graduated assassins .  We were lined up a few feet from the mats, waiting for him to decide who would fight who.  He would choose based on who we most commonly practiced with and how well we fight in general.  Who ever he thought was a more challenging match, would be the ones he chose.  

"Iris," Malik called out, his green eyes coming to rest on me.  I stepped onto the mats.  

"Kadir." Malik looked at him, jerking his head toward me.

My heart sped up a little, my palms starting to sweat.  Kadir.  I've never fought Kadir.

Malik stepped off the mat, joining the Assassins on the right side of the room.  Kadir looked nervous as he caught my eye.  His blue eyes were unsteady, glancing over me and darting around the room.  He pushed his hair back out of his face.  We took up our starting positions and waited for Malik to start us.  I analyzed Kadir's movements in my head.   I thought of how he fought, searching for any weak spots.  I found it was his left side.  He was a lefty so, he used that arm more and left it open for an opponent to slip under his guard.  Assassins always took him down with hits to that side.

Malik motioned for us to begin.  Kadir swung first, aiming for my face.  I ducked and kicked him in his left side.  He groaned and stumbled back.  Staying low, I kicked his legs out from under him.  Kadir fell onto his back.  He growled his frustration, jack-knifing to his feet.  He threw another punch.  I feinted and came back with an elbow to his face.  I winced at the sharp pain of the bones of his face smashing into my elbow.  Kadir grunted and punched me in my side.  Pain flared up at the contact, making me wince and stumble back a few steps.  Kadir stepped forward.  I swung at him, catching him in his left side again and dodged his next punch.  I spun and kicked him in the back of his knee.  He groaned but refused to go down.  As he turned, I landed a punch to his jaw.  He stepped back a few feet, his eyebrows lowered in frustration.  He was searching for my weak spots now.  I came forward.  He ran, looking to tackle me.  I jumped, snatching up a handful of his - thankfully - longish hair.  His head jerked back and I stomped down on his back as I landed.  I knelt down beside him and gave him one last punch before releasing his knotted hair.  

Kadir hit the mat with a loud thump and a wince.  I stepped off him and he stayed down.  I looked at Malik who nodded and knelt down beside Kadir for a moment.  When he stood back up he said, "Iris wins."

Everyone applauded.  Kadir groaned.  He knew he'd have one more chance to fight.  If he didn't win or - at least - do better, he wouldn't be made an Assassin.  I offered him my hand to help him up.  He glanced at it and gave me a sidelong look before he pushed himself up to his feet.  

I wanted to say something to him, make sure he wouldn't hate me, but I didn't know what to say.  He walked off the mat without a word and suddenly, I felt bad.  I'd made him look bad in front of the Assassins.  He'd have to fight again to become an assassin.  He was 18 already.  He should've graduated like Adonijah.  But, he hadn't been ready.  Now he was and I'd messed it up for him.  At the same time, I needed to fight for my reputation too.  Malik would punish me if I didn't graduate.  

I stepped off the mat and paid no attention to the other fights.  

Kadir slid down the wall at the back of the room, no longer caring to push his hair out of his face.  He'd probably cut it all off later now that he knew it could be used against him.  He put his face in his hand, bruises already blossoming across his cheek and jaw from my blows.  

I was tempted to go over to him, but avoided it, not knowing what to say yet.  I knew he'd probably want  to be alone and I couldn't apologize because, I had to worry about passing my tests as well.  I wanted to graduate as bad as anyone here.  He'd have to accept his losses just like everyone else too.