The last rays of the setting sun hit the tips of the castle towers. A rarity that age had left behind, especially in the Kingdom of Luminae, a remnant of when it was once divided between the old guard and the new. Alexander patiently waited, his outstretched hand poised to catch the final touch of sunlight, wriggling under the warmth of the setting sun. Perched on the rooftop of a nearby bakery, he observed the imposing walls of the castle, about twenty metres tall, but age had not been nice to it. Some bricks were jutting out, and his eyes worked to carve a path to the top.

  Getting up to his feet, he walked towards the edge right before the wall, peering down at the moat encircling the fortress. He could jump ten metres with some amount of effort, but twelve metres was a significant span to cover, thankfully there was a crocodile occupied body of water to break his fall. Alexander took a deep breath, moving back a few steps away from the edge, and took out a spare knife. Jumping on the balls of his feet, he psyched himself up before he launched himself forward, sprinting towards the edge and leaping at the very last moment.

  Sailing through the air, his legs bracing themselves for impact. With a muffled thud, he landed on the wall, his hand gripping onto a protruding brick, his knife sliding into a crack in the stone. Pain reverberated through his bones, but he continued onwards, jabbing the knife into the smallest crack he could find, securing it in order to use it as a platform. He jumped from it, hands clasping onto holdways worn into the rock, making his way surely to the top, keeping any further daring to a minimum. The climb was uneventful, till he was just about to reach the walkway above, when the metallic crunching of armour reached his ears, becoming louder with each passing second.

  He peered through an arrow slit, spotting a guard in shiny iron armour jogging towards him. The darkness of the dusk allowed him to readjust his grip to the surface, his hand wrapping around his dagger, ready to strike at a moment’s notice. Judging by his armour, the new guard had been hired for extra protection for tomorrow’s procession. Meaning it would be a bit harder to get into the castle, but it also presented him with an excellent opportunity, and some things to think about that night. As the sound faded away, carried only by the wind, Alexander could finally set foot on solid ground once again, his eyes tracing the guard towards a tower a few ways up the catwalk.

  Silently, he trailed the guard as the sky transitioned into a mesmerising mix of orange and purple. Arriving, he saw the guard struggling to move a crate, by the sounds of which had to be filled with something metal-y and sharp. Alexander silently walked up behind the crouching guard, his right hand crackling with purple lighting, collecting on the surface of his skin, waiting for the right moment.

  The guard heard the slight hiss, turning around in a feverous panic, his hand already reaching for his sword. But before he had a chance to unsheathe it, he found Alexander’s hand on his mouth, the electricity collecting within his aggressor flowing completely into his body, overwhelming his senses. His body convulsed for a bit, his screams muffled, but the pain only lasted for twenty seconds, and the guard slumped to the ground unconscious. It had taken longer than usual, but damage on the armour could not be afforded.

  Alexander dragged the guard into the darkest corner he could find, with a flick of his hand even darker tendrils covering up the sight. Within moments, he left the tower adorning the sparkling armour above his usual clothes, unsurprisingly very loose over his muscles. He put on the helmet as he sprinted down the tower’s spiral stairs, snatching a loose torch to light the way in the dark.

  He had learned the layout of the castle grounds when he had visited the city a few years ago, during a quite vivid stint in a wandering circus that was on a heist spree. The knowledge allowed him to easily avoid most of the patrols, and when he encountered a stray guard, he just stammered out some words till they left him alone, delaying him only by seconds as he made his way towards the ‘garden’. It took about five minutes, till he stood in front of the entrance.

  The belittling designation of “garden” failed to capture the true essence of the wilds that he had to venture into. It was a meticulously tended woodland, the size rivalling the castle it was a part of, cared for by the Earl’s family for over a century, and now a tool in order for him to do what he had to.

  So far, so good, but luck has never been your ally

  The entrance to the forest was marked by two ash-white trees whose branches dropped down to form an arch. Veins of blue coursed through their bark, sparkling under the light of his torch, matching the rhythm of the stars above. As Alexander crossed the threshold, entering their domain, the leaves above seemed to bow in welcome. The towering trees whirred past him as his feet carved a path through the natural labyrinth, turning on a dime, following what he had learned. It would’ve confused anyone who wandered into the garden, but Alexander just ran, his mind sure of the track to the forest’s heart. In a few short minutes, he saw his goal, a thicket of Firewood trees.

  The person who first discovered a Firewood tree was not lauded for their creativity. They had dark brown bark, with fire-red leaves that made him reminisce about the sun, and even this far from them, he could see the slight shine of the inflammable, translucent sap that flowed within. The trees themselves bore a fruit that consisted mostly of water, but it did not help their notoriety for catching fire with a single spark, and that was exactly why he liked them.

  As he walked towards the grove, he winced, knowing the chaos that was about to occur. Kicking off the trunk of the lowest tree in the thicket, his hand snatched a fruit from its branch, crouching beside the roots with the ripe flesh in one hand, the other pulling out a spherical metal device. He twisted the apparatus, popping open the outer layer, revealing a web of machinery inside, with a slumbering infant ifrit, or when of their lesser cousins, at its core. Alexander placed the orb gently on the ground, digging a small hole besides it, burying the fruit within, covering it with moist soil, so that something could survive.

  He held the orb in his hands, pouring his mana slowly into it, causing it to hiss and whir as he ramped up the action, his energy bringing it to life. Worry crept over him, the noises from the orb starting to become more erratic, the metal groaning against the influx, but after a minute of sustained mana infusion, it fell silent, its layers becoming one once again. He again held becoming a perfect sphere, before throwing the orb onto the crown of the thicket, making sure to make enough noise to scare any animals that may have been nesting there. Spinning on his heels, Alexander faced the direction he came from, turned roughly fifteen degrees to the left, and ran.

  Five minutes whizzing past the rainbow bark that made the forest, and he reached the castle grounds once again, facing a newly installed steel fence. The fence posed no issues, even while lugging twenty kilograms of armour, which was quickly removed, as he followed the map he had etched in his mind. He already knew he was towards the rear of the castle, but he had to make sure he didn’t accidentally scale the wrong wall.

  Soon he reached his goal, cracking his knuckles before his fingers wrapped around the bricks that could support his weight. He kept up the ascent till he reached an open window, a warming sight on a day as cold as it could be in the summer, and as he climbed into the castle’s quite expansive attic, he had a moment to think. Plopping down on an old dusty chair in front of him, he was glad to take a breather, pulling out his copper pocket watch to count how long he had to wait. It had only been ten or so minutes since he started, and now he had another twelve to go.

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  As he settled into the chair, he heard some floorboards’ creek, probably a rat or even a rust eater, common in the older cities, but he had to be sure, but his sleep-deprived mind was against the idea. Yet, he focused his attention, concentrating his mana into a singularity beneath his chest, nurturing it, feeding it, before he released a wave, much like the echolocation of a bat. As his mana returned, some as strong as it left, others weaker after bouncing off a variety of things, it allowed him to visualise his area. More importantly, he felt something tall and humanoid to his right, and worse of all, it seemed to be moving towards him. Sighing, Alexander straightened in his chair, crossing one leg over the other, clasping his hands in his lap, and intertwining his fingers.

  As calm as the day he died, the words painted the clearest picture he could afford, “If you’re trying to stab me, I would strongly advise against it.”

  Elyza stood over the unconscious guard, contemplating whether to kill him or not, lest her quickly closing window of opportunity ceased to exist. She had tracked the financier slave trade to this town, and this had to be its end. She paced the shed, her mind racing to think of something, hay crunching under her boots. Slipping in with the delivery was the only way she could think of, and the man had complicated things immensely. Fortunately, but not known to her yet, the approaching footsteps made that crucial decision for her. Lifting the guard, armour and all, Elyza plopped him into the crate she had sneaked in, and ran towards the back of the shed.

  She found a hatch to the roof, pulling herself up through it, scanning the Earl’s castle for a way in, and her eyes spotted an open window. Elyza didn’t think why that was, only that it would lead to her slicing the earl’s throat ever so quicker, the thought motivating her to jump into a cluster of bushes which broke her fall. As she tried to get up, another guard ran past her with the unconscious one on their back, and she immediately fell flat to the floor, only standing when she was sure that the coast was clear. Sneaking her way towards the open window, hiding whenever she heard any sound even remotely close to one of a footstep, she pulled out a rope from her pouch as she neared her way in.

  A three-pronged hook was attached to one end of her rope, showing its age, rust creeping through the metal. She let out a slow sigh, her brain busy in calculating the power and angle, spinning the hook in her hand, before tossing it over the castle. When she felt the hook land on the roof, Elyza pulled, waiting for it to catch on something. As soon as it did, scaling the building was relatively easy, almost reaching the window, when she felt the rope become slack for just a second. Scrambling to slip through the window, she managed just before the prongs on the hook gave way, sending the rope tumbling below. Elyza glanced down as she caught her breath, only to see a small rust-eater grab the fallen hook and run, pulling the rope behind it.

  Looking around the attic, most of the stuff she spotted was covered with cobwebs and dirt, having been left and forgotten. She walked around through a maze of crates, trying to find a way down, glancing into the boxes. Some of them held antiques, some were just filled with junk, matching the stale air that was packed with dust, causing her to wheeze lowly with each breath. Finally, she spotted a door. Her hand reached out to grab the door’s handle, but it hesitated, and Elyza didn’t know why. Her revenge would be over if she continued on, yet something, some forgotten part in her mind, stopped her.

  The creak of wood echoed through the attic, shifting Elyza’s attention completely. Walking quietly back toward the open window, she pulled out a throwing knife from her pouch, using the myriads of crates as cover as she got closer to the window. She peeked over a corner, trying to spot what had made the noise, and spotted the emerging moon throwing its light through the window, and in its centre was a figure sitting on a chair.

  Elyza wanted to get closer, but as soon as she put her foot forward, a deafening creak bellowed throughout the attic. Her heart was beating faster than ever as she sank into cover, thankfully not making even more noise. She glanced at the figure once again, distinguishing the silhouette of a mysterious black cloak., they hadn’t seemed to have noticed the noise, just sitting there silently. Approaching again, her movements shrouded in darkness, her knife slowly raising in anticipation, she froze as the silhouette shifted.

  The figure straightened itself, looking in her direction, peering into her eyes as he announced,“If you’re trying to stab me, I would strongly advise against it.”

  Elyza stopped dead in her tracks. The voice sounded crisp and clear, they were sure of where she stood, but she did not answer, instead studying him intently. She could guess that the figure was a man, and that he was at the younger side, but his voice revealed decades of experience. He noticed that she had stopped, getting up with both hands in the air, showing that he was unarmed.

  “Since you haven’t stabbed me, yet, I’m going to guess you’re still thinking what to do next,” he said, speaking softly. He approached Elyza with hands still held above his head, adding as he presented one to her, “May I propose we try to talk things out,”

  Elyza's mind faltered, the rational part of her mind telling her to stab him, however her gut wanted to hear him out. His hand dangled in the air for a few more seconds, before he withdrew it, sitting back on the chair, remarking, “Suspicion or bafflement at my behaviour, either is understandable.”

  The figure crossed his legs, “My name’s Alex, and I’m an assassin. Now, your turn,” he proclaimed, waiting for a response. Elyza’s knife lowered, still ready to strike, yet now she was interested in the conversation with a man who had easily revealed what many would think of as their darkest secret.

  Alex continued talking, “I’m willing to bet the world on the fact that we’re both here to do the same thing. But I’m sure we have different reasons to… confront him” pausing for effect, “Mine is the job, but yours… Yours is… revenge, right?”

  Her mind went into panic mode, trying to think of ways he could possibly have known. He must have met her before, but she would’ve remembered him. Her face betrayed her thoughts, as a smug grin spread over Alex’s face.

  She spoke with feigned flatness, “How’d you -”

  “Don’t worry, I can’t read minds, as far as I know. Your ears are also visible through your hood. And I've heard enough rumours about the Earl’s opinions about non-humans to know what horrors he must’ve made you suffer, directly or indirectly,” He exclaimed, his voice full of faux care.

  Elyza cleared her head, taking in a deep breath before responding, “Then you know what I must do, so if you try to give me a speech about how ‘revenge is bad’ or some other philosophical bullshit.”

  “Oh please,” Alex chuckled, “You don’t need to tell me. I know some of us won’t be able to rest till we finish the job,” approaching her, “So, how about I help you reach him quietly, and then, if you feel like it,” extending his hand once again, “You hear what I have to say.”

  Elyza thought about it for a moment, the deal sounded too good to be true, but as far as she could tell there wasn’t a shred of dishonesty in his words. She didn’t want to trust a human, but the burning desire for revenge within her heart ultimately overshadowed her cautious instincts as she took his hand and shook it.

  It caused the man to smile softly as he pulled out a pocket watch, remarking, “Great, Now we just have to wait for nine more minutes.”