It was late at night, and Cale could not sleep due the many thoughts that were chasing each other within his mind, depriving the boy of his sleep. His parents had recently bought a child slave, a silent little girl by the name of Niyara. She was strange, and whenever Cale had tried to befriend her, the slave girl had given her unusual looks. Cale had never heard Niyara speak a word. She should be grateful, as his family had bought her to save her from the slave trade. Shaking his head in disapproval, Cale sat up in his bed. Niyara was only a few years younger than his own 13 years, yet she would not even speak to him. There was the slightest sound outside his bed room door, and Cale turned his head to see the shadow of someone walk past shimmer under the door ever so briefly. The person sounded small, and Cale would bet any money that it was Niyara. It could not be his older brother Cirion, since the young man slept like a log.
Cale did not believe that Niyara was her name. Even though he knew little of the slave traders, he knew that the slaves they bought, or stole in some cases, were given new names. The girl had never spoken to him, and had only spoken a few words to his father, Lord Mikhail, and even then they had been one or two word sentences. Cale even began to wonder if the girl could speak at all. Niyara did not answer to him when he called her, and why would she? The assassin had given her that name, and he doubted she remembered her old one. His father had told him that she was quite damaged, since she had been a slave and being bought and sold by different traders for most of her life. The only true thing that Cale knew of her was that Niyara was not her real name. It was a big step for Mikhail to buy a slave girl and welcome her into his home like family. Such a move was frowned upon by other members of the court, and Mikhail had already had several assassination attempts on his life. Their house was secure though, so nothing could enter its walls. His father was safe, but that did not mean that Cale appreciated that little girl wandering around the house at night. Cale had seen an assassin in his house before, and it had been quite frightening. Cale would give Niyara a good talking to, but it would wait until the morning after he had gotten her back to bed.
Growling at the thought of having to leave his room and send the ungrateful girl back to bed, Cale stood and reached for her dressing gown, which he pulled on. The young man's golden hair was dull in the darkened room, but his keen brown eyes could make out his door easily as he left the room. Blinking at the sudden change in lighting from the candles in the hall, Cale looked down to see where the younger girl had gotten to. Sighing, Cale followed the hall and stopped at the end, looking at both of the corridors that lead in both directions. A shadow moved in the corner of his eye, causing Cale to jump and spin to where he had seen something move. When he looked, there was nothing. He was alone, but he was sure that there had been something watching him. The hairs stood on the back of his neck as he walked down the dark corridor and saw that the door to his father's study was slightly ajar. Breathing quickly, Cale moved closer to the door, scared of what was on the other side.
On the floor surrounded in blood lay his father, his throat slit. Pale faced, Cale took a step forward into the room, but froze at the sight of Niyara, standing next to him in her white sleeping dress covered in blood.
"Ni...?" Cale stuttered, staring in disbelief at the little slave girl. She said nothing of course, but seemed to smile. "What are you doing here? What happened?! What did you do?" Cale said, words falling out of his mouth in a wall of emotion. Again, Niyara said nothing, and even looked a little shocked at what had happened, but she stepped back towards the window. Before Cale could intervene, a black shadow of a man swooped down from what seemed like nowhere, scooped up Niyara in his black shroud before disappearing out the window.
Once they were gone, Cale ran to the body of his father, falling to his knees by his father's side. Reaching out with trembling fingers, Cale tried to feel his father's blood covered neck for a pulse. There was nothing. Letting out a small cry and trying to fight the tears away, Cale let his head drop. His father was dead. What had Niyara done? She could not of killed him.. She would not have killed the man who saved her, could she? What, or who was that man with her? There was too much going on for Cale to register at this point. He did not even register one of the maids trying to pull him away or his mother's screams. All he could think was that Niyara killed his father.
"Good work, Niyara," the hooded man sad as he walked down the cobbled street, holding the hand of the little girl with long raven black hair and the white dress. "I am so proud of you."
"Thank you," Niyara replied, looking back to the window, her little heart beating fast within her chest. The deal had been that, if little Niyara helped Garret get into the house to assassinate Lord Mikhail, he would take her with him to train to become an assassin herself. To an eleven year old, that was a pretty good deal. So of course, Niyara had accepted. If Garret had failed his task, he would be killed by the bad men in the guild, and Niyara could not let the man that spent time with her in the dead of night and who cared for her die, now could she? Niyara had not originally wanted to help her. Lord Mikhail had saved her after all, but living in that house had been dull. She had not killed the man. Garret had, but the assassin had not planned his attack correctly, and it now looked as if Niyara herself had killed her adopted father, if you could call him that.
Garret had been watching the manor for several weeks now, trying to find a way to get in without the guard dogs mauling him where he stood. The windows could not be opened from the outside, and were protected by magic, so even Garret could not open them. Even the most skilled assassins had not been able to enter the manor, ending in their own deaths. The Guild of Assassins was cruel, and Garret refused to succumb to the same fate as those before him. Then one night he had seen a ghostly little girl unlock a window and climb out. It was then when the perfect plan came to mind. The Guild of Assassins was attacking the government of the city one kill at a time. Lord Mikhail was not the king, but his death would be a horrible blow to the high court, which was the plan.
"You must sleep, Niyara. We have a big day ahead of us to return to the guild. Come, child," Garret said, leading Niyara into a little inn in which he had been staying. Tomorrow, they would take his horse to the guild. He would collect his money and get permission to train Niyara as an apprentice. Everything was going to plan. Upon reaching their room, Garret reached out the door handle and muttered something under his breath, causing the door to unlock. Niyara watched with interest as he unlocked the door without touching it. She had seen slaves beaten and hurt, she had even been hurt herself and had the scars to prove it. Niyara had never seen someone's neck slashed by a dagger, and she had never seen that much blood.
Get some sleep," Garret said, leading Niyara to the bed. Once he had tucked her in, Garret crossed the room and settled upon the armchair by the empty fire place. His dark eyes watched Niyara sleeping for a moment before closing his eyes himself. The next morning, he would obtain some non-blood stained clones for his hopeful apprentice, and then they would leave this forsaken city. The older assassins thought he would not be able to assassinate The Lord of Agonlaith, they thought him too young and foolish. How very wrong they were. With a smirk on his lips at the thought of the looks on their faces, Garret slowly drifted off to sleep. Niyara had assisted him in getting into the manor by opening the window and distracting the Lord of the house, but Garret did not know why he had wanted her to come with him. He could sense that she was not happy there, and she did have potential. There was some darkness in her, and if it was not guided, it would destroy her mind and she would be rendered insane. Then again, everyone had some darkness within them, but it the person who decided whether it would control them or not.