Ancient History

Enter The Assassin

Slowly. Slowly does it. Thula Raiyin peeled back the semi-transparent plastic curtain and drew her gun. She swung into the room and quickly looked around. Nothing. She drew her watchful gaze up to the ceiling. Still nothing. Holstering her weapon, Thula jumped up and grabbed on to one of the silvery-grey pipes above her, and then quickly wrapped her legs around it.

Just as she had stabled herself, five of the warehouse's armed security guards ripped back the screen and gave the room a once over, just as she had, only moments before. But they made two grave mistakes. One: they didn't check the ceiling. Two: they put away their pistols.

Bang! Like an agile cat she landed on her feet, right at the centre of the guards rough circle formation. Jumping up on one of the guard's backs, she wrapped her legs around his throat, and, remaining perfectly balanced, kicked him square in the chest with the heal of her right boot. One man down, still four to go.

The security staff then made a third, and perhaps their most important mistake of the night – they panicked. This was what Thula was planning on. The following few seconds of pandemonium and darkness were all she needed. Before they even had a chance to draw their guns, they were lying unconscious on the concrete floor. A sixth guard was alerted by the noise and went to investigate. All he found was a mangled heap of bodies, some bloody, but all breathing. If he were really observant he would have noticed that the usually unreachable and locked window, set high into the far right hand corner of the back wall was slightly ajar. He may have also heard the sound of a motorbike roaring of into the distance. But he didn't.

Miss Raiyin stood at the huge gilt mirror and studied herself. Her long, flowing, dark brown hair was in a complex braid. She was wearing a beautiful gothic ebony gown and black high-heeled sandals.

Although the majesty of these formal dinners never failed to astound and excite her, she never felt quite herself. At the age of 18, she was honoured by her place so high in the Lux Veritatis order (that of a demon hunter, an assassin), but Thula could not help but feel that she was only truly herself in her other life, her collage life. She could chill out with her friends without wondering if the person nearest the water fountain was in actual fact a demon and a threat to the church.

Thula was not really a religious person. It wasn't really in the job description. She was like a hit-woman for hire in the sense that she did whatever (whether she believed in it or not) for whomever. The difference was that she always worked for the same people and that she was born into it. Not that she really minded. It was better than an after-school gig at McDonalds.

A second refection joined hers in the mirror. One hand slipped around her waist and another over her shoulder. The man bent over and whispered in her ear:

"How come you've been avoiding me, huh?" The man had an American drawl to his voice and his long brown hair was tied back in a loose ponytail.

"Kurtis! How can I avoid you if you're always there?" She turned and kissed him on the cheek.

Thula and Kurtis had been friends all their life and an item for two and a half months. As far as their parents were concerned, it was a match made in heaven. Kurtis was the only son of the Grand Master of the Lux Veritatis Konstantin (his mother had died in childbirth), and so the heir. Thula, whose parents had both died fighting the Black Alchemist were both highly respected and important members of the order themselves. Thula was one of the most capable and respected assassins in recent years, despite her young age.

"Look, I need to speak to you," he paused a second, "Well, ask you something really. Right after dinner?"

Before she had a chance to answer a suited servant walked over and informed them that the food was ready and everyone else was already seated.

"You go ahead." She said to Kurtis. "I'll be along in a minute."

Thula hated living a double life, just as much as she loved it. She could be completely honest with her friends within the order, but her closest friends she had to feed constant lies. She longed to tell them, not to mention rub some of the more 'popular' girls noses in it, but it was hardly the kind of thong that cropped up in regular day-to-day conversation. As far as anyone was concerned, she spent a lot of time visiting her grandfather in the old peoples home.

Technically this was true. It was like a home to her and it was full of a lot of elderly-ish people. And, well, Konstantin was quite old, and a grandfather figure of sorts.

Sitting down on a red velvet sofa and picking up the gold and ivory telephone and began to spin the dials. It rang seven times and then it was picked up.

"Hell-o. Who's there?" It was Bram, Marie's boyfriend.

"It's Thula, Bram. Is Marie there?"

"Nope. She's on the pizza run. So where has your fancy boy taken you tonight?" He asked. Thula had no choice but to tell her friends about Kurtis, though they had never met him, nor even knew what he looked like. She had just told them he was taking her out for a meal.

"Someplace out of town. Can't remember the name. Anyway, tell her I called okay?"

"Can do." Fortunately for her that Bram was not quite as sharp as Marie, and was usually slightly out of it anyway. "Ooh, gotta go, she's buzzing up!" With that her put down the phone. Thula smiled.

She made her way back through the stunning marble corridors, her steps echoing all around her. As she emerged in front of a pair of great oak doors, two identically dressed servants pulled the doors open. The sight that met her eyes was just as awesome every time she saw it. Over a hundred men and women were sat around a huge table. The men wore finely pressed tuxedos and the women beautiful billowing dresses. The plates and goblets were made of gold and the food gave off the most mouth-watering aroma she had ever smelled. Once again, all the danger and effort was worthwhile. She made her way up to the head of the table where Kurtis gestured for her to sit. All though they were very rare, the Lux Veritatis outdid themselves on occasions such as these.