Disclaimer: I do not own Ragnarok Online, nor do I give a rat's ass what people say about my making a fic based on an "illegal" private server. Don't like it, don't fucking read it. Period. However, the character L'dran Cresnoble, the Shadow Wolves Mercenary Organization, and the sohee named Michiko do belong to me, so steal them without credit and I'm dragging your ass to court/PvP.
Deep within the Payon caves, an assassin sat silently in the center of an ancient samurai village long since buried in the caves. All around him, the sohees, spirits of pain and regret, regarded him curiously, but did not bother him. They were peaceful spirits, and did not attack anyone unprovoked. They simply continued to float around aimlessly, their mournful cries echoing in the otherwise-silent village.
For his own part, the assassin merely sat near the old debris of a campfire, his eyes closed. He could tell that the campfire wasn't as old as the village itself; one of the pieces of log had still been slightly warm when he had touched it. So someone had recently camped in the village.
He opened his eyes to find a sohee floating a few feet away from him, looking closely at him. The second the spirit noticed his attention on her, she quickly darted away from him, pretending to simply be passing by on her way. He smirked slightly. No matter how many times he was here, the sohees were always intrigued by his presence.
Perhaps it was because they feared him, knowing that he spent most of his time in the village killing the sohees, munaks, and bon guns. Or perhaps they sought to fall under his katars, to be freed of the pain they continually endured so long as they remained alive. If that was what they were after, then he would be happy to oblige them in that regard.
He knew the history of the sohees, what they really were. Pain was all they knew. Death was freedom for them. He would be their liberator. They would resist him, he knew, but in the end, they would welcome the death, would thank him with their dying breath.
His eyes shot open as a scream pierced the mournful cries of the sohees. He shot to his feet, flicking his arms to extend his jamadhars into their extended fighting positions. Swallowing the contents of a speed-enhancing potion, he shot off toward the source of the scream.
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She did not know how she had gotten herself into this situation. In retrospect, she figured that she hadn't been paying attention. Normally, the soldier skeletons left the spirits of the village alone, but she had heard some munaks telling how they had been attacked by the skeletons after provoking them in some way.
She didn't know how she had provoked the two skeletons angrily slashing at her, however. She had been taking a closer look at the man who was sitting in the village, then quickly dashed away when he had noticed her. She figured that she had run into the two skeletons right about then. She hadn't even noticed until one of their sharp blades had driven itself right into her stomach.
Retreating away from the two skeletons, she looked about frantically for any assistance. She knew that none of the other sohees would help her, but that didn't stop her from hoping. A munak sat against a tree nearby, doing a good job of not looking to pay attention to the erupting fiasco.
She heard a sound from behind her and glanced over her shoulder, through the waving mass of her hair. A skeleton archer stood a dozen feet behind her, tightening its bowstring. She knew that the skeletons, be they archers or soldiers, always attacked whatever they found other skeletons attacking. She knew that if she was seen being attacked by the soldiers, that archer would be on her in an instant.
Turning to her left, she started to dash away from the soldiers, only to find the side of an ancient building blocking her path. Taking a glance to the side, she saw that the archer was looking up from its work, having heard the clacking sounds of the soldiers' bones grating together. She figured she had maybe five minutes left.
Suddenly, a sheathed dagger dropped to the ground in front of her. She stared down at it, momentarily dumbfounded.
"Use it!" she heard a voice call out to her, moments before she caught a flicker of motion out of the corner of her eye.
Seconds later, a series of sharp rock spikes shot up out of the ground, impaling one of the soldiers and lifting it up off the ground. As the soldier twitched atop the rock spike, a dark-clad figure burst out of the ground and dashed forward, his motion almost too fast for her to follow. He completely bypassed the second soldier, which made an ineffectual swing at him with its dagger, and dashed straight at the archer.
The first swing of the katar on his left arm threw the archer's bow out of line; the second came around and snapped the bowstring. After parrying the archer's weapon, he spun around and planted a heavy boot into the skeleton's chest, fracturing its sternum and sending it crashing back against the wall of a building. Drawing back his left arm, he stabbed his katar into the throat of the archer.
As the man drew back his right arm to finish off the archer, he turned back to see the soldier still alive and moving toward him. He took a glance at the knife still laying on the ground. "Take the knife!" he called out to her, stabbing his katar into the archer's face. "Kill that soldier!"
She looked down at the knife the man had dropped at her feet. This man had risked his life to save hers, she at least owed him her assistance in helping him to fight off the soldiers. Reaching down, she snatched the knife up and unsheathed it, momentarily pausing as she caught sight of the metal that comprised the knife and the markings along its blade.
It was a silver chastity knife. She had seen them before, when outsiders had come to tame other sohees and take them away. Despite knowing what this knife was for, she could still feel the magic in the markings attempting to compel her. Attempting to shake off the effects of the sigils, she lunged forward, the knife raised in her right hand.
Somehow, she moved too far into the skeleton's field of vision, or it heard her, or something. But the next thing she knew, the soldier had turned from the assassin and sliced its daggers through the air toward her. She ducked away from the daggers, feeling their sharp edges slice through the ribbons tied into her hair.
She quickly backed up against the wall that had held her back before, as the soldier turned and advanced slowly on her, with what appeared to be a mocking smile on its bony visage. Terrified, she looked to where the assassin had been moments before, only to find the remains of the archer, and no assassin. Had he abandoned her to die? If this was the assassin she had heard about, then it wouldn't surprise her at all. This assassin came to the village only to kill sohees.
A crack of bones drew her attention back to the soldier before her, just in time to see its skull flying off to the distance. The assassin stepped forward past the soldier, flipping his katar back along his right arm, and stabbing the blade into the sternum of the soldier.
As the headless soldier fell to the ground, he deftly plucked one of the daggers from its bony fingers and inserted it in a pouch on his clothing. He then spared only a moment's glance toward her before spinning on his heel and walking away.
"Wait!" she called out, not knowing why she did.
The assassin stopped, looking back at her over his shoulder. He didn't say a word.
She paused, feeling uncomfortable under his gaze. Then she blinked, felt the weight of the knife in her hand, and then held it out to him. "This is yours," she said meekly.
"Keep it," he answered without pause. "It does not serve me at all."
She lowered her hand and looked down to the ground. "You… Why did you save me? Aren't you the assassin that kills sohees? Like me?"
"Skeletons of any kind are infidels that do not understand the sanctity of taking life," the man answered, keeping his back to her. "I, on the other hand, fully understand the significance of taking a life. It is why I am an assassin."
"That doesn't explain why you saved me. Why didn't you kill me yourself?"
"I do not seek to kill sohees. I seek to free you from your pain. Do you wish to be freed?"
She clenched her hands into fists, her eyes flashing an angry red. "Are you asking me if I want to die!?"
"Bluntly, yes."
She blinked, having expected him to deny it or something else. "N-no."
"Then I have nothing more to say to you. Seek me when you wish to be freed." With that, he started to walk away again.
"Wait!"
He stopped. "What now?"
"I… I forgot to thank you. For saving my life. Thank you."
"Do not trouble yourself. No thanks are necessary." He turned his head away from her, but did not continue moving. "There is something else you wish to say?"
Her eyes widened. How had he known? Slowly, she nodded her head. "Y-yes. I… wish to join you."
"Why? Are you not afraid that one day I may turn my blades to you?"
She paused, meeting eyes with the assassin. Somehow, she could feel that this man would not turn on her in such a manner. Slowly, she shook her head. "If you were to turn your blades on me, then I would not stop you. It would be my time."
One moment, the assassin was several yards away from her. Then she blinked, and when next she opened her eyes, he was right in front of her, the blades of his katars pinching at the flesh of her throat. "Is that what you think?"
"Yes," she replied, barely a quaver to her voice, as she forced herself to remain very still. "If you choose to kill me, then I will not stop you."
She could not see his expression for the mask he wore over the lower half of his face, but he seemed to be smiling as he stepped back and withdrew his katars, folding them back across his arms. "Very well. You may accompany me."
Blinking once, she bowed deeply, a faint tinge of red on her cheeks. "I thank you, Master."
The mask he wore contorted into what appeared to be a frown. "Do not call me that. My name is L'dran Cresnoble."
Her blush deepened as she bowed again. "I am sorry…"
"I go by Cresnoble."
"Sir Cresnoble," she finished quietly.
"I am no knight." But it didn't sound like an admonishment, and he did not tell her not to call him that. "Do you have a name, little sohee?"
She paused, thinking. She had had a name when she was alive, but it had been so long since it had been used. Then she blinked and nodded. "My name was Michiko."
A/N: There you have it, kids. Not much, but hey, this is probably going to be a boring story anyway. There's really not even a guarantee that I'll get anywhere with it.