Life is a funny thing.
It runs on so many mechanisms relying on energy, movement, and a harmony of all things to keep it balanced and running. It's strong, able to push through the toughest of times, yet it's also able to be snuffed out with a precise cut to a vital organ.
With a single motion, life can just end.
The booming chatter of the party below hid the grating sound of a metal blade against its sheath. The ceilings were lit bright with glowing lanterns, and extensive tables laid with food dotted the center of the grand hallway. Women were all dolled up in extravagant kimonos, the lengths of their skirts tumbling down in multiple layers of dyed silk, their faces painted pale white, lips crimson red. The men were dressed in equally expensive clothing, though not as complicated; their robes hung simply around their bodies in single bold colors.
At the center of the hall sat an old, short man. He was clearly the head of the palace with that air of self-confidence and command; there was no doubt he was the king. By his side stood two boys, one with bright pink hair, the other with dark blue.
The figure hidden on the beams of the ceiling support drew a sword from the sheath by the waist and as the figure leaned forth a bit to gain a better view, a peak of dark hair slipped in front of her mask and out of the hood.
"This is going to be hard. I don't understand why he set it to this date. A party of all days," a feminine voice grumbled.
Slowing standing up from her crouching position, the girl re-sheathed her blade and instead drew out a thin needle from the breast pocket of her shirt.
"There's no need to cause a huge commotion. The bounty is high, and thank heavens I'm not killing the King. That would be a bit too much."
The cloaked girl swung her eyes around the area, surveying every movement. Finally pinning her view onto a broad man with a string of large, red beads on his neck, she pressed her lips into a thin line. "Jiemma. Looks like a douche. Not surprised why my client would want him gone."
Leaping gracefully between the beams, the girl kept her steps silent, her figure completely hidden by the shadows.
Landing on a crossbeam, the girl brought a thin pipe to her lips, inserted a needle, aimed down and blew.
From her sleeve, she quickly dropped something from the soon-to-be dead body and quickly wriggled herself through a space in the roof, her fast feet taking her somewhere far away.
Meanwhile, Jiemma, who had been standing just fine was in the middle of a conversation, a glass of snake wine balanced carefully between his pudgy fingers, smirked down to the cowering girl beneath him and was about to grab her roughly by the waist when something pierced him in the neck.
A dark ink seemed to take over his body starting from that point. His veins turned a gruesome black spread to his body as his torso and appendages began to convulse. His face broke out into large boils and the guests around him could only watch in horror as his body shriveled like a slug in salt, until it was no more than a lump of bubbling pain.
A hush filled the once busy hallway and the king stood up startled. The boy with pink hair that was by his side shot up on his feet as well and dashed over to the dead body.
"Lord Natsu," the crowd murmured and made way for him.
Natsu bent over Jiemma and rolled his head back. Peering closely at his neck, his fingers soon found a small bump hidden beneath the skin and with a harsh tug, a silver needle was pulled out.
Just as he had removed the needle, a purple object drifted down from above him and landed right onto the torso of Jiemma. By this time, his father, King Markov had made his way over.
With trembling hands, Natsu picked the object up.
It was a nightshade, its petals a deep violet with a small golden bulb peeking from the center. The nightshade was not a common flower as it was poisonous and quite small.
Natsu wouldn't normally minded flowers falling from the sky; he wouldn't have given it a second thought, only a small reminder to maybe rehire another party decorator, but this occasion made his heart stop cold.
The nightshade was a symbol of death, left behind on the bodies killed by the assassin Shade.
A few miles away from the party, the girl was still running, her black cloak billowing behind her in the wind. Smiling to herself, she whistled and soon enough, a small cat with wings swooped down beside her and landed on her shoulders.
"How's the scouting of the next target?"
The cat rolled its eyes and retorted, " I only got the request. Something about a tournament and a princess. Apparently he wants to hire you out. It's in the kingdom of Fiore."
The cat paused for a moment to let it sink in.
"Fiore. Are you sure?" the girl asked.
"Yup. Raven Tail wants you to fight for his kingdom in the tournament. Win win. He gets the princess, you get the you know what. And if you want to break the deal because of whatever you find in Fiore, there's no problem."
"Sly one aren't you?" the girl chuckled.
"I only learn from the best."
A/N this is only a there is enough interest, I'll keep on posting.