Author's Note: This is my first story ever on this website, so I'll be honest and say that I'm nervous as to how the story will be taken. However, I do take criticism well, as it helps me in my adventures of writing in the future.

On Fire

Chapter 1

"In Varris, you kill or you are killed."

"Then how do people still live here? This is madness; it is complete and utter anarchy at its finest."

"The laws of the King's Own do not apply here. We have an uneasy alliance with the king and his military force. He doesn't encroach on our territory, and we don't pillage his cities."

An irritated sigh.

"Why is it that I'm now here, in this city?"

"You think I know what goes on in that head of yours?"

"Fair enough." A quick glance around the scandalous tavern. "Is there any decent area in this city that I can rest my head and not have to worry about getting stabbed in the dark?"

"That would be in Aria T'Loak's personal chambers." A smirk was given. "And I rather doubt that you can get in there."

"I would not be so sure." Miranda Lawson flicked her coffee brown hair out of her ice blue eyes. She found it challenging to hide her Anadian accent. "Could you direct me to the place where she's located?"

Another irritated sigh. Miranda gave a bland stare to the gruff, burly man behind the counter of the tavern she was in. He was tall, with black hair that fell into his coffee brown eyes. Thick hair was exposed on the man's chest from his loose shirt. Miranda tried to avoid looking at it. His facial features were mostly covered by a neatly trimmed beard, but Miranda could see that he was probably considered attractive, if one was looking for a rugged type. Which she was not.

"Yeah, sure," the man said eventually. "She's staying in the tavern named Inferno. It's located in the center of the city, just a few blocks from here. There'll be a large sign with the name on it. I rather doubt you'll miss it. Name's Garrus, by the way."

"Thanks," Miranda said sincerely.

Garrus snorted. "That's the first time I've ever heard that."

The representative of the White Star, a secret yet powerful organization, gathered up her belongings, which consisted of a shoulder bag with enough clothes and supplies to last her for several weeks. On her available shoulder was a sheathed sword. The sword strap intersected with the strap of her bag. The clothes that she wore made her blend in with most of the crowds in Varris. However, her facial features would never let her be considered ordinary. The stark contrast between her pale skin and her dark, silken hair was one thing that made her stand out. Her eyes were the lightest color of blue that she had seen in anyone, the color of the midday sky. Her facial features looked like they were carved out by a master artisan, not simply given to her by her genetics. Needless to say, she was a prime target for harassment from men and occasionally women.

Miranda headed out the door of the bar she was in and stepped out into the city of Varris. When she had first arrived from Anadius, where the White Star's main base was, she was astonished at how well kept the city actually was for such a terrible reputation. There were marble fountains at every intersection, the sides and windows of buildings were always being cleaned by someone. The buildings themselves looked like they had come from a romantic era, metal terraces with vines interwoven in the wrought iron. The roofs were shingled with coral-colored tiles. The city itself rested on the shore of the great Sahrabarik Ocean, which hosted crystal clear water and white sand. It was an ideal city, yet it was home to some of the worst mercenary groups and criminals in all the land.

Walking down the streets now, she was more accustomed to the beauty and deception. Nothing fooled her now. She could see where the poverty struck hardest and where people literally had to pay for something with an arm and a leg. Miranda made it her goal to never go down any of the alleyways. The woman could handle herself in nearly any situation, yet she would rather be safe than sorry, or dead.

Miranda stuck to the paths lit by bright lanterns. The fading sun cast a certain glow on the city, like someone would have when they had just fallen in love. It gave the city character and also helped in hiding what lay beneath the metaphorical masks everyone wore. The streets she walked on with her leather, buckled boots was paved with cobblestones. They were smooth, for the most part.

Eventually she reached the center of the city. Sure enough, like Garrus told her, the sign for the tavern Inferno was lit and easy to see. It was, perhaps, the largest sign in the city plaza. The tavern had a complete building to itself, four stories tall and the richest building in the immense city. Crimson tapestry hung from various corners of the establishment, accented by the green vines that adorned the metal railings and windows. Lighting from the inside glowed through any openings the building had. It was clearly an active place in Varris, the perfect place for the unofficial ruler of the city to be housed.

Miranda situated her bag and sword more comfortably across her shoulders and started off toward the great tavern. Walking across the plaza and up to the tavern, she noticed a pair of men standing outside the entrance.

"Whoa, lady," the left one said. He was a thick man but barely taller than Miranda. He had chestnut hair and a thin beard. His metal armor looked like it had been stolen from one of the King's knights and redecorated with blue dyes. On his hip hung a shiny sword with no sheath. The other guard looked identical to him. Twins, most likely. "We can't let you in without word from the boss."

Miranda noticed that one of their most vital parts, the neck, was exposed. Foolish move, she thought. In the dull sapphire sash she wore across her waist were a dozen throwing knives. She made a show of looking for something inside her sash, only to bring out two of the knives and quickly shove them in the pair's vulnerable necks. Scarlet blood flowed from their jugulars as she quickly yanked the knives back out and wiped the blood off in the men's hair. She then returned them to their original position.

She turned the nob on the sizable door in front of her and walked into the tavern named Inferno.

Inside, she was assaulted with a cacophony of music and boisterous voices. The interior of the tavern was more lavish than the entire city of Varris combined. Balconies on every floor had people dancing and drinking the night away. Off in the dark corners of every floor, citizens of the city were performing various acts that belonged behind locked doors. It apparently didn't matter if there were two people of the same gender together; everything simply happened. Near support columns, guards dressed like the two outside were standing and watching for trouble. A grand stairway was sliced in half and led up to a secluded balcony on the second floor. A pair of guards were stationed at the foot of each stairwell. The floor of the building was white marble tile, along with the walls and stairs. On stages scattered throughout the establishment were men and women dancing exotically. Crowds around them would cheer when the dancers would perform a certain move and the front of the crowd would toss out coins of different colors. Some coins were bronze, other were silver, and the occasional one was gold. All of the dancers were, of course, scantily clad. A bar off on one side of the bottom floor had a few people situated on the stools in front of it. The counter appeared to be made from solid quartz and crystal. Miranda could not fathom how expensive that must have been for the owner to buy. The stone railings on the balcony held more crimson tapestry, like the ones outside. Miranda was close enough to see now that each piece of fabric was outlined with golden trim. Whether or not the gold was real was something she did not think was vital to know.

In the center of the second floor, the two stairways that were guarded, the secluded balcony was obviously where her target was located. Being from an assassin's guild, she was not in this building to make nice with the ruler of Varris. She was here to cause political unrest by assassinating the most powerful woman in the Fringe, which was all the territory that the ruler of Varris controlled.

The woman surveyed her surroundings, looking for an alternate route to the secluded balcony on which the Varris "queen" would be located. She quickly spotted one. She went up an unguarded flight of stairs all the way to the third floor, taking the steps two at a time. Her bag and sword didn't impede her movement, despite being loose on her body. She was glad she had decided to wear a leather tunic and trousers instead of a dress, like society dictated women to wear.

Miranda arrived on the landing and rapidly scoped her surroundings. No one bothered to spare her a glance, something she was glad for. They were all too preoccupied with drinking and dancing. She was on the right side of the building, near a row of rooms, probably with the doors locked. She had a clear view of the balcony where her target was located. Her perfect eyesight allowed her to pinpoint who she needed to kill. The guards surrounding the ruler of Varris, this Aria T'Loak, all were clad in the same armor as the ones downstairs and outside, aside from the three scarlet stripes on their shoulders. The stripes must symbolize that they're the queen's personal force. There were seven guards in total. However, it was not the guards she was searching for.

Seated on an obsidian leather couch was a woman. From where Miranda stood, or crouched actually, she could see that the woman clearly ran the establishment and city. Aria T'Loak, as she was called, apparently didn't follow society's rules on how to dress, either. She wore a white tunic with red and black trimming. Her pants were a deep brown, almost black. Across her waist was a thick, scarlet sash with a foreign symbol in the center. The woman's features were quite striking from what the assassin could see, which was not much. For instance, she could not see the color of the ruler's eyes. She could, however, see the cocoa brown hair that looked as though someone had taken a knife and razored the ends. The hair reached slightly past her shoulders. Despite its messy appearance, the hairstyle suited the rugged character of this Aria T'Loak.

Miranda withdrew a knife from the sash around her waist. Knife throwing was one of her better talents, the highest scorer in her class at Grissom Academy in Anadius. Every weapon she threw, no matter if it was a simple knife or a giant axe, hit the target she was aiming at. The assassin took care in aiming at her would-be victim. Miranda pulled back her arm and launched the knife and a speed too swift for the human eye to follow. She watched the trajectory that the knife travelled along.

Aria T'Loak, queen of the Fringe and ruler of Varris, the city of beauty and despair, felt some unknown weapon sailing toward her comfortable position.

Just before Aria knew the weapon, presumed to be a knife, would impact painfully with her body, she plucked it out of its fatal path. She examined the knife, for it was indeed a knife, and noted its intricate designs. It was double edged, with a slit down the center of the blade on both sides. The handle looked the same as the other half of the dagger, aside from slight grooves for a hand to fit in. A strange sigil was branded into the pommel of the weapon. It looked like two halves of a vertically stretched hexagon outlined by two more halves of the same shape.

Aria stood, pocketing the knife in her ruby sash. The woman sluggishly turned around, facing the direction that the offending weapon originated from. She spied a woman with dark, brunette hair and an appalled expression of the third floor. This person was not a familiar face at all, yet Aria felt as though she had known her for as long as time had existed. This person was also undoubtedly the would-be perpetrator.

She brought up her hand lazily and curled her finger in a gesture for the assailant to come.

"Bray, go retrieve that woman," Aria said. Her voice washed over those in her immediate vicinity like a wave of satin. Accompanying the order was a lethal undernote that instructed Bray, her second in command, not to defy her. His armor clanked together as he left the secluded room.

Aria sat back down on her leather sofa, relaxing into her previous position. She rested her arm on the back of the couch and crossed her legs. She leaned her head back and closed her eyes, awaiting the arrival of Bray and this mysterious woman that had just tried to assassinate the queen of Varris. Suddenly, she decided to make this near future meeting more private. She stood back up and leaned slightly over the balcony.

"All right," Aria announced, her silken voice booming over all the commotion of the tavern. "I want everyone out. Now."

There were sounds of protest but everyone quickly filed out of the building.

The door to Aria's private room opened. She turned around and let her glacier eyes fall on this assassin, this woman who dared try to kill the great Aria T'Loak. From far away, Aria knew the woman was certainly striking, but up close it was even worse. Her very presence caused Aria's pulse to quicken, something that had not happened to the empress in many, many years. The way the coffee colored locks fell perfectly over chiseled shoulders, how this brunette's pale azure eyes seemed to pierce straight through all of the walls that made up Aria. She tried to avoid looking at the woman's supple curves and ample assets and failed. To cover her momentary lapse in control, she decided to give her would-be aggressor a thorough once over.

"So, you assassinate my guards outside," Aria began, using the most soothing and deadly voice that she could muster. "You search for the prime spot to kill me and expect to leave without a trace." Aria turned and looked out at the vacant bottom floor. "Am I correct?"

"Does it matter if I answer?" a bland tone responded. The sound of Aria's attacker's voice sent odd shivers down the ruler's spine. Another feeling she had not experienced for quite some time. Aria could also detect a faint accent.

Aria turned and faced this woman.

"Tell me your name and I might spare your life." The arched, thin brow that Aria received formed a wicked grin on her face. "Yes, I know that sounds terribly cliché, but it must be said. Now, would you be so kind, my perfect enemy, to give me your name? I do not enjoy asking twice."

The dark haired beauty, or so Aria liked to believe, showed visible hesitation in her eyes. After a few moments, Aria guessed that she would not receive an answer. She once more turned to face the bottom floor of her favorite location in the Fringe. She rested her hands on the chilly, marble railing and let her hair cascade into her eyes.

"You aren't a foolish woman, Aria T'Loak," the woman behind her said. "I'm sure you have informants everywhere, telling you whenever a noble so much as scratches his arse. You know my accent, you know the only place in the Reach of the King where that accent originates from. But I will give you my name, if only to humor you and your games. I am Miranda Lawson from Anadius."

"You trained at Grissom Academy, I would assume, then," Aria surmised.

"Yes," Miranda replied.

"Get out of here," Aria commanded from the guards. "I'll call you if I need you." None of the guards moved. "Now," she snapped.

They quickly exited the room, being shuffled along by Bray.

"Have a seat," Aria instructed. She gestured to the furniture next to her. The queen herself sat down, settling into the worn leather. She felt a casual smile grace her features in reference to her favorite couch.

AN: Any comments, concerns, or otherwise? It would all be greatly appreciated.