Knife in the Dark
By Joseph Milam
Chapter One
Antecedent
A torrential downpour fell upon the dark gray of the cobblestone streets of the rural outskirts of Demacia's dominion. The malignant darkness of the clouds descending upon the poor townsfolk of the petite village known as Ponsburry. A bolt of lightning forks down upon the distant countryside and sends a flash of night throughout the town, revealing a compilation of poorly built thatch hovels and small brick houses surrounded by a low wooden wall. Another bolt of lightning forks through the clouds and is visible through a large puddle before a sudden disturbance in the water sends ripples in all directions.
A young man, hardly out of his youth, with blond hair ran through the puddle, his clothes were soaked and torn, small lines of red barely visible across his bare skin. His unblemished face was distorted with panic as he sprinted through the rain, taking a sudden right turn past a brick home. He repeatedly looked over his shoulder and breathed audibly as he ran. He nimbly vaulted over a short iron fence containing the church cemetery. He weaved his way through the head stones at a quick pace and vaulted over the other side of the fence. He turned his head one more time and found himself staring at the wooden wall protecting the town. He looked to his left and right seeing no where else to run and jumped high, grabbing onto the top of it with his hands. As he tried to pull himself up a wickedly spiked blade pierced through his left hand and pinned it against the wall. He screamed out in pain and let go of the wall, causing him to spin around and hang suspended from his pinned down left hand for a few moments until his weight forced the blade to slice through his flesh, freeing him but leaving his hand almost completely severed.
A faint sound of footsteps could be heard through the rain and the young blond man on the ground whimpered as a shape began to materialize out of the rain. The shadowy figure quickly growing more clear as it got closer until finally a man with a purple cloak adorned with blades stepped forward a few feet in front of his victim The young man feebly pulled a small dagger from his coat and held it up weakly but the man towering above him simply kicked it from his hand and produced a long sharp blade of his own. He held it up to the boy's throat.
"Wh-wh-what have I done to deserve such a death?" The blond man asked as tears ran down his face. He gazed into the eyes of his soon-to-be killer, searching for some sign of empathy but finding none. The man in the purple cloak dropped down on his knee and dug his blade into the grass in between him and the boy.
"You betrayed our master, child." He said adamantly. The boy gazed at him quizzically for a moment before a strange grin came across his face. He raised his nearly bisected hand.
"Marcus Du Couteau? I do not recall him being my master. I am no slave, unlike yourself, Talon." He spat the last word. Talon brought the blade from the turf and brought it to the young man's throat.
"He saved you as he saved me. You owe him everything." Talon growled and the young man simply scoffed.
"Saved me? He ruined me! Turning a poor innocent boy into an assassin! He was a monster. Just like you." He taunted and Talon suppressed his anger.
"Where is he?" He demanded. The young man laughed.
"I am much more scared of what they will do to me than what you can do."
"Where is he?" He asked again, this time he reached over to the man's injured hand and squeezed down on the wound hard. He roared in pain but his morals did not flinch.
"Kill me. I will never talk." He rose his chin defiantly spat into Talon's young face. Talon stood up and brought the blade back into the air.
"As you wish." He stabbed forward.
"Stop!" He heard and he quickly turned around and saw a beautiful young girl, not yet a woman but nearing so. She had short dark gray hair and large yellow eyes. Her face was full of unimaginable grief and pain. Her clothes were ripped and tattered exposing various wounds and marks across her body. "Please, I have had enough killing." She slowly walked towards Talon fearlessly and he turned about her and brought the blade around and pointed it at her as she approached him.
"Get back, no one else has to die. This man deserves and welcomes death." He declared but the girl kept walking until she was directly in front of the blade. She placed her forehead against the point of the weapon.
"If you are going to kill me, kill me now. I welcome death as well." She looked straight into Talon's eyes. He almost flinched as he saw the pain in her bright yellow eyes. He stepped back a few steps and turned to the young man on the floor who had simply watched the two.
"My dear, this is no place for a child. You must go before you become even more grieved." he smiled sympathetically and the girl looked at him with her intense eyes and he shuttered. He turned back to Talon. "You see this young girl? You see the pain in her eyes? She is much more grieved than you have ever been yet she is humble and graceful. Why can you not be as such?"
"Because I am a killer." Talon said grimly as he brought his blade down into the young man's chest. He groaned softly as the blade broke his ribs but was quickly silenced as it edged swiftly into his heart. Talon withdrew the blade cleanly from his victim and sheathed it and turned quickly back to the young girl. She did not flinch, she simply looked down at the now dead man and back up at him. The two looked intensely into each others eyes for a few moments before Talon made a move to leave.
"Why?" She asked simply. Talon shrunk back into the shadows.
"I must find and avenge my master, he is all I have." He whispered. The young woman watched the shadows for a few moments and then slowly left, the rain pouring down upon her small frame. She walked slowly down the wet streets until she reached the doorstep of a small hovel and collapsed. A few moments later the door opened and the young girl was dragged inside.
She awoke the next morning. An older but still beautiful woman was standing over her as she opened her eyes. The woman gasped as her eyes slowly opened. "Quinn! Quinn my dear are you alright?" she asked as tears ran down her face. Quinn slowly raised herself upright in the bed and looked at the woman.
"Caleb is dead, mother." She said grimly, her face set in stone with a visage of despair. Her mother looked at her and shook her head in the negative.
"No, no no! He can't be!" She shrieked and fell upon her knees. Quinn felt tears run down her face.
"God Dammit I told you two to not to go out on your own." said a balding man sitting in a chair. His face was distraught but he was not crying like her mother.
"Father, we were not children anymore, you could not keep us holed up in this house and expect us to grow out of our ambitions!" Quinn shouted. Her father stood up and walked to her bedside and sighed before quickly slapping her across the face.
"You impudent child! What do you know of the world besides your petty fantasies? You poisoned his mind with your thoughts of adventure!" He spat on the floor next to him. Her mother grasped his legs.
"Oh Benjamin, be kind. She is more hurt than we could imagine..." she sobbed. Her father simply stared at Quinn.
"You should have been the one who died. What use is a woman over a man?" He scoffed as more tears welled up in Quinn's eyes.
"Oh dear, do not speak such words to our daughter! She is all we have now!" Her mother screeched. Benjamin turned back to her and pointed a menacing finger at the two of them.
"Shut your mouth woman. As for you, Quinn, I expect you to be gone when I return from the workshop. Do not return unless you are in a coffin." He went over to a wall where two uniforms hung on the wall, one fit for the size of a man the size of Quinn. For Caleb, her twin brother. Benjamin quickly dressed himself in the clothes and stormed out of the hovel. Quinn looked at her brother's uniform on the wall for a few moments before she felt her mother stirring.
"Quinn, do not let his words poison your spirits. You are our last hope for glory. Do not let your dreams of Knighthood go because of this grief." She said as she crawled up to the bedside. Quinn looked blankly down at her mother.
"There are no dreams of Knighthood, that was a child's fancy. I am no child, I am a woman now." She said grimly and rose from the bed and stood next to her mother who began to weep again. She looked down at her and then quickly turned to the wall, grabbed a large blue cloak and opened the door. She stood there as she brought the cloak around her petite shoulders and tied it about her neck. She rose the hood over he young attractive face. "I love you mother, tell father that I love him also and that I will obey his command." She gazed out the door into the street.
"Quinn please do not go!" her mother screeched "He did not mean it! He was just angry!" her voice barely audible through all the sobs and sniveling. Quinn looked back at her mother for the last time, kissed her own hand and blew it towards her mother and was gone.