On the edge of town was a small manor owned by a wealthy Makone. He was a large crocodile humanoid who wore a bright red tunic, darkened pants, and had two handaxes on his belt at all times. His fingers were covered in rings and his scent was of rich perfume. Currently he was sitting in the living room of the manor, waiting for a very special guest. Nobody else knew this guest was to arrive, only a few servants who lacked tongues to tell the tale and his wife. His wife was a Makone, like him, and his third wife. The last two were proven to be disloyal but he had faith in this one.

"Who is our guest today?" His wife inquired.

"A poor soul who got himself mixed up with Marcov." Faraji Keyon responded, "If he's lucky, the boy will fail his mission and they won't want him anymore."

"And we are getting involved because?" She questioned.

"Anyone from Marcov sent our way is going to be treated with the highest respect." Faraji said harshly, "That is all YOU need to know. Leave this room and go do whatever it is wives do."

His wife shut up after that and left the room. Faraji had just brought her in to explain why there would be a foreign guest. There was no intention of actually letting her see the assassin. At the back of the manor, the selected servants were waiting for the assassin's arrival. They hadn't been informed anything about him but they had no way of asking. Each of them were waiting with their hands at their sides. Once the boy arrived, they would bring them to the living room to meet with Faraji.

Namiba was one of the more interesting locations in Onnen. As with every centralized trading towns, Namiba was a melting pot of the different tribes and clans of Onnen, and thus was a fantastic place to learn about the cultures of the newly found continent. While Lewis considered himself on the job, he couldn’t help but be interested in learning. After all, the more knowledge he had, the more capable he could be in his work.

From memory, he wound his way through the city streets, taking in the sights and information, until he found himself on the edge of town. The meeting location for the contact that Marcov had provided was a small manor, held by an individual named Faraji Keyon. There wasn’t any other form of identification given past the name and general location. The rest was for Lewis to figure out on his own.

Lewis was far from worried. He had come prepared for just about anything. He had his precious bow strapped across his back, with two sets of specialized quivers crossed on his hips. Strapped to his chest was a variety of different throwing knives, and wrapped in a cloth was a beautiful, sapphire blue blade that he had been gifted. It had yet to see blood, but it would be soon enough before it’s cool hue was shrouded in red. Lastly, he had a backpack strapped across his shoulder, opposite of the bow, with a variety of poisons.

The job would likely not require all of these tools, but when traveling abroad, it was always a smart idea to be prepared for anything. And, if Marcov was to be trusted (well, “trusted”), this place would be safe enough to act as a sort of home base while staying here.

He approached the manor, and dropped his bag, taking no time at all to knock. The sound fell short, but the assassin knew he would have been heard. Now it was just a waiting game.

The door creaked open for Lewis and behind it stood a single servant. She gave him a single bow before silently beckoning him to follow her. The maid traveled through the hall and entered the room where Faraji was sitting. The maid gave Lewis another bow before closing the door, leaving the assassin alone in the room with Faraji. The noble gestured towards a seat before standing up. He placed a letter on the table. The letter was addressed from Marcov and was sealed with a symbol of a vulture, one of the family icons.

"That letter there should contain all you need." Faraji explained, "And I'd recommend hiding your weapons while walking around the city. There's a no weapon policy and its actively enforced."

The noble slumped back into his chair, tired of this already. He enjoyed fine luxuries, women, and balls. Not babysitting some assassin. But if it was the word of Marcov, then he dare not disobey. He knew exactly what happened to those who betrayed Marcov. Though his curious eyes was still on that letter addressed for Lewis. Who in the world needed to be taken out? Perhaps some powerful sorcerer or some spy who'd found out Marcov's secrets.

The letter read,
-Assassin,

You will find the girl visiting the orphanage in an hour. She may go by the name of Asher, or some other name. Remember, a short blonde with scars around her wrists is what you're looking for. She is armed with two daggers but is physically weak. Whether she has been trained or not is uncertain, but it is certain you are stronger than her. Failure is not an option.

Marcov-

"If you need anything from me or my servant, inform us right away." Faraji said, "You will stay in our finest rooms and eat whatever you like. And feel free to take any weapons you want from our armory. Though, I'm certain you came prepared."

As the maid led Lewis through the manor, he took note of potential escape routes. It was always the same, whether a thief or an assassin. Never back yourself into a corner. Escape was always an option, and often the first. Well, perhaps for a thief. Maybe it wasn’t always the same. Killing had become the first option. Death came swiftly for anyone who dared corner the assassin. It wasn’t long before Lewis was led to the room with the contact. The noble seemed almost annoyed that Lewis were here. From the few visual queues that he was given, Lewis assumed the man barely had a say in his cooperation.

This Marcov seems more dangerous than I thought. There was still no apprehension for the job, but Lewis did make a secondary note to investigate Marcov after the job was finished. There were a lot of dark dealings that Lewis would let slide, but there were a select few unforgivable sins that would be punished.

The letter was simple and to the point. At the end was the same phrase that Marcov had stated when they had met in person. Failure is not an option/ The young man scowled at the note. Not only was it condescending, but the threat behind it was an affront. Still, there were details about the note that seemed eerie. The note had been sealed, and from Lewis’ limited experience, the wax had been dry. It would have to be something researched…how long did it take to dry, and what are the signs of aging. But, regardless, the note was sealed, and yet it seemed to dictate a time that would be impossible to tell otherwise.

Marcov was steadily gaining intrigue. Lewis wondered if it was worth mentioning to Lord Raith, but pushed the thought aside. It would be something to discuss later. He set the note down, and looked to the lord of the house. He was offered food and shelter, the finest of rooms per Marcov’s instruction.

“It doesn’t matter what the room is, just as long as it has a functioning table,” Lewis stated, his voice near monotone. His face was stoic, and his eyes were barely focused on Faraji. He was already thinking about his next set of moves. The no weapons bit put a hamper on quite a few parts of his initial ideas, but it wasn’t the hardest thing to work around. Still, he was lucky that the only real weapon that he was seen with was the bow. If questioned, at worst he was an innocent hunter that had misunderstood the rules. Still, a costly mistake in the long run, and something he would have to consider going forward. His information on Onnen in general was severely limited.

“Please show me the way to a room. Past that, I need nothing else.” Lewis’ eyes focused for a brief moment on Faraji. The food would have been something to look forward to, but the young man had not survived this long on the kindness of others. Even if this man were completely loyal to Marcov…no, because he was loyal to Marcov, it would be foolish to accept any form of kindness.

The maid silently led Lewis towards the bedroom assigned for the assassin. She opened the door to the room and stood next to it. The interior was decorated with shades of brown, white, and black with a little dark blue. Intricately woven baskets hung up on the wall as decoration while large potted green plants decorated the room. The bed itself held five pillows but only two blankets. The heat in Namiba was hot and humid which led to less need to keep warm. A black stone table was up against the window with a simple black wooden chair next to it. There was a set of quills, paper, and ink available on the table. The window was unlocked and large enough to fit through. They were still on the first floor of the manor so it wasn't a long drop to the ground outside the window. A big wardrobe stood in the corner while the ground was covered in a rug made from the skin of a lion. The maid waited for Lewis to enter before entering herself. Once he was done looking around, she gave him a little bow then left. Whatever he did was up to him.

__________________________________________

An hour passed and Dala was heading over to the orphanage she always visited while in Onnen. The little girl was covered with a brown cloak and had a backpack on her shoulders. To anybody else, she was just some poor traveler wandering around. She knocked on the door twice and the door opened to the orphanage head. The man smiled and called out for the other kids to come to the door to meet their friend. The main three she knew was a Twa eight year old, an Eket eleven year old, and a five year old Oromo. Dala handed out a gift to each of them and they took it with glee. The presents were each a toy along with some wrapped chocolate she got from a party.

"I just wanted that stuff off my hands." Dala insisted, "I definitely don't care or anything."

"Nah you're a sweet pumpkin." The Twa said knowing it would annoy her.

"No way! I'm a cool warrior who stabs things!" Dala declared.

"You're a little pumpkin! You're a little pumpkin!" The Eket and Twa shouted together.

"Okay that's it!" The little girl shouted then started to chase the other two around.

They chased each other around for a while before the orphanage owner told them to quit it and that the kids needed to go inside. Dala waved goodbye to them and sat down for a moment to catch her breath. She gazed at the sky for a moment, in deep thought about what she was going to have for dinner. Did she want chicken or noodles? That was the real hard question she needed to answer.

As Lewis entered the room, he threw down his weapons and equipment onto the bed. Once the maid left, he started to unpack what he had. The weapons ban made things complicated, but not impossible. There were ways around it, and ways to conceal everything required to kill. The bow was out of the question, as it was large and hard to conceal. No, this would require a subtle approach.

First would be identifying the target. He already had an idea forming around that, and it required the use of a new tactic he had learned. Fear and hate. It was something he could use to goad others into becoming simple, predictable animals. Mortals, after all, were easy creatures to fool. One of Raith’s lessons.

Once she reacted, though. That was the caveat. The punch blade was the easiest method, but always a fallback as it left a trace. He would keep that as his last ditch effort. Poison would be the preferred method, but without knowledge of the target, he wouldn’t be able to prepare the correct dose, or find a method to slip it to them.

“Asher…” he muttered as he worked out a plan.

“Got it.” He smirked. The method was set. It would be easy enough to enact it. It wasn’t his usual style, but it had potential. After all, an assassin would have to learn to adapt…

——

The orphanage was not hard to find. Lewis had staked out the area early, and had found himself a nice place to hide up on the rooftops. One of the many things he had learned was how to bend the shadows to hill will, coaxing them to darken or stretch. It was surprising what people would do to avoid the darkness, and look away.

From the top, he held a decent view of the orphanage. Children playing, and caretakers scolding. It was a different life than he had held growing up, surviving on the streets. The world was a better palace for them. They had been luckier than most. But that wasn’t the main focus. No, it would be the target.

“Asher. Where are you…” The hour mark hit. People had come and gone, but if the information he had was good, she would be here. He closed his eyes, reaching out with his hand. Once more, he willed the shadows to work for him. Lord Raith had taught him quite a few tricks.

A wide spread illusion, created of the darkness. A haze of energy swarmed across those of the orphanage. In the distance, a shadow figure emerged in the streets, walking towards the orphanage. A tall, well dressed man with a scar across his right eye formed, clear as day. His piercing golden eyes could be seen clearly despite the harsh sun, his cold and unsettling stare almost perfectly imitated.

“Dance…” Lewis uttered. “Show yourself…”

The day had been going great until HE came along. Dala spotted his golden eyes immediately and that hideous scar that she despised. Her blood boiled at the sight of him and she leapt to her feet, daggers in hand to chase after the bastard. All thoughts of caution or safety were gone. Her only goal was to end him. End his life, take everything he owned, and to make sure he never returned. The child had no plans except to stab.

"Emerald!" She shouted loudly.

A green large basilisk slithered out from its hiding place in the sewers and made its way to Dala's side. The snake couldn't find the illusion or whatever Dala was angry at. Instead it kept by her side and seeing the world through a flicker of its tongue. Meanwhile the child was running towards Marcov at full force with her daggers drawn. It was foolish but that was what Emerald was for. To keep her out of any real danger.

"You piece of shit! Motherfucker son of a bitch little cunt stupid asshole!" Dala yelled as she attempted to stab the illusion,

While Dala was attacking, Emerald was busily trying to sense the source of trouble. As a way to defend its young master, the basilisk wrapped around the child, effectively blocking her from easy ranged attacks. As a creature trained by Raith, it knew how to defend and was trained to be deadly. Meanwhile the girl was flailing around trying to get around Emerald.

"What are you doing?! He's right there!" She exclaimed, "LET ME STAB HIM!"

Despite her anger, she was being careful not to hit Emerald.

Humans make no sense, was Lewis’ first thought. The concept of rage in its purest form causing such a scene was, quite frankly, almost cringe worthy to watch. The assassin almost felt sorry for those who fell to such easy jabs at their fragile mental state…but he had a job to do. The fact that it was a child meant nothing.

Lewis dropped to the streets behind the whole scene. The target was far too distracted to notice, so he dropped the pretenses of being overtly stealthy. It didn’t matter. A quick dash forward, and a stab through the basilisk into the child’s neck, and it would all be over.

But he hesitated. The over sized garden snake was an issue. If it were with his bow, it would be a quick and clean kill, but all he had was the punch blade for the actual assassination. His initial plan might work but a basilisk wasn’t something he had anticipated. Still, the child had broken the no weapon law. To anyone who might be watching, Lewis could be their savior. The perfect alibi.

Just go with it, he thought to himself as he pulled out his heavy coin pouch. It was tied at the end with his spare rope, which he let loose. The coin sack hit the ground with a thud as Lewis tested the weight. He slowly started to spin it around, letting it settle into a rhythm. And here we go.

With a skilled flick of his wrist, he launched the heavy sack at the child and basilisk, with every intent of yanking it back the moment it connected or missed. Blunt force trauma was the name of the game with this makeshift weapon.

Emerald, sensing the attack, moved Dala out of the way and took half of the blow. It hurt the snake but didn't kill it. Dala, now having recovered from the illusion, sheathed her weapons and inspected her basilisk. The snake could move but she didn't want it to fight anymore. Having a giant snake in the city and revealing weapons was a mistake on her part. Her anger had gotten the better of her and now Emerald paid the price.

"Emerald go back to Orme." Dala instructed, "You need a break from this. And don't tell dad anything. This isn't his fight."

Before the snake could respond, the child dashed off towards an alleyway. The kid knew this area well and could navigate her way around quickly. She knew she couldn't fight the assassin. Despite all her determination and training, she was still just a child. Her fighting abilities were strong but without physical strength and the agility of an adult, it was practically worthless. Her magic was useless as it was light magic. So running was the only option. Dala came across a large wooden fence and squeezed herself underneath it where a hole had been dug out. Now that her anger was suppressed, she was quick. Never staying in one spot and making her directions seem as random as possible to avoid hits from above. It was clear she was experienced in the art of fleeing. She had a lifetime of learning. Whether it was with dogs, people, monsters, or the unknown.

Finally she had found a good hiding spot. It was a small hole in the side of an old broken down brick building. The hole was connected to underneath the large building where the rats and snakes gathered. Dala had no hesitation. She dived into the hole and found some bricks to cover it up. The place wasn't glamorous. It smelled like shit and mold but it was momentarily safe. The animals were more scared of Dala and stayed away from the weird thing that had entered the hole. The truth was….Dala was no better than the rats and snakes that hid int he corners of the world. As much pride as she displayed, she still lived like a insignificant worm.

The child silently waited to hear the footsteps of the predator outside, holding her breath and holding so still that not a soul could hear her. She felt her own heartbeat but tried to stay as calm as possible. A spider crawled along her hand and made its way back to its web while she could feel the forgotten shards of glass on the edge of her ankles. The area was dark and humid but she still stayed quiet.

Lewis clicked his tongue as the girl’s snake took the blow, but this was only a minor setback. For a moment, he thought the girl was going to stand and fight. He threw his make-shift rope dart again, but instead of dodging, she darted into the nearest alleyway. For a runt, she was quite fast. But Lewis grew up on the streets, surviving as a thief, and knew very well how a scared rat would move.

He darted after here, having to clear a part of the street before he could get to the alleyway. Damn, she has a lead… Still, he caught just a glimpse as she sprinted down the next street. That was all he needed, He dashed after her, attempting to close the gap as he drifted into the next street. He was barely keeping up with her even with his speed. Every new turn down a street or alley required a quick memorization and route plan to get through.

He had no doubt that this was what it was on the receiving end when he was in Hoja. The kid was just like he was..a survivor. It was a shame that she had to die.

It was when he saw her scamper underneath the wooden fence that he skid to a halt. He cursed under his breath, panting. No matter… He took a deep breath, and then looked up. He jumped, kicking off the wall and somersaulted over the fence, landing with the grace of a dancer.

He looked around, but saw no trace of the girl. But that was okay. She was running. He knew the whole deal. She would either try to hide him out, or go to a safe house of some kind. Either way, the method to find her was the same. He knelt down, and scanned the ground. Her footsteps were small and distinct. They weaved back and forth, as if dodging an invisible assault.

Clever.

He stood up. Tracking her would be easy. He followed the trail to its stopping point, where there was a clear indentation of her footprints down a particularly run down alley. She stopped here. Which meant this was the area to look. Whether it was luck or cunning, though, the trail ended here, obfuscated by animal tracks. He sighed.

“What a pain.” He held out his hand, forming a small orb of darkness. “Seek her out…” With the basilisk from earlier in mind, a jet black snake coiled around Lewis’ arm, and dropped to the ground. As it coiled beneath Lewis, it seemed to think for a moment before slithering off into the first hole available.

Lewis walked over to the wall, leaning against it. It was a waiting game now…