The deal has been made. But who is the target, and who is the victim?

Sorry this took so long, I couldn't find a good way to end this chapter for the longest time.


'The Assassin'

I frown as I dip the tip of my feather in the ink bottle. That title just doesn't feel right. Perhaps it gives away too much of the story? I sigh as I lazily cross it out. This was so much harder than I thought it would be.

No, I have to focus. I can't think of a good title, so . . . maybe I should write the tale before I name it. Yeah, that will be easier. With a sigh I put the tip of the feather to the parchment, only to find that the ink has already dried. I grumble a bit as I dip the feather tip into the ink bottle, then quickly move the feather onto the parchment and begin writing.

'A nobleman and his son, seven years of age, were traveling through the forest.'

Was that line good? Yeah, it's simple, to the point, and gives the brief amount of information I want the reader to know. After checking it carefully for any spelling errors, I try to continue only to find the ink on the feather has dried. Damn this stupid fast-drying ink! Wasn't it supposed to stay good for a bit longer? I grumble more as I almost jab the bottle with the feather before I continue writing.

'Soon, the son asked his father 'do you hear that'?
The father asked his son what he had heard.
In replie, his son reached for a tree branch and shook it.
'Tis only the birds', the man said, 'Landing upon the branches''

I smile as I reread it. It looks good so far. Maybe-

"Hey, prince!"

Oh, for the love of god! I grumble to myself as I look at the door. When the door opens, I'm not too surprised to find my slightly younger brother at the door. We both have the same blue eyes, but our hair colors differed. He has the same red hair that our mother has, and I have the same blonde hair that my father has.

I don't even try to hide my annoyance at being interrupted. Every single time I sit down to write, there is always someone that interrupts! "What is it, Descon?"

I hardly notice as he gives me a kind smile. "Father wants to speak to you."

I let out a huff of anger as I slide my chair back so I can stand up. Of course, I use a bit too much force this time, and to my surprise the chair tips backwards. I don't even have time to flinch before I fall over with the chair, and Descon laughs as I curse.

I soon get up, still grumbling as I push the chair back towards the table. Next I put out the candle next to the table, forgetting to wet my fingers beforehand with spit in preparation. I can't say it burned me, but I do yelp from the contact between the flames and my own skin.

Eventually I leave my tower-room, still grumbling as Descon leads me down the stairs. He smiles at me before asking how my story is coming along, to which I explain that I've got the plot all thought out. "It's not a long tale, but it pretty much involves a nobleman and his son who are walking through a forest. His soon keeps hearing things, but the father keeps brushing it off as being normal occurrences. Eventually though the father hears something, and as he asks his son what it was he's answered by an assassin that's standing behind him. Right after answering, the assassin kills the father before watching the son run away in fright."

Descon listens silently to my explanation, and he soon surprises me when he asks what the moral of the story is. "Moral? Why does it need a moral? It's just a story, after all."

Descon laughs at that, taking me by surprise. "That's kind of funny, because I already hear the moral loud and clear. You should never assume it's 'just the wind' when the child keeps on hearing strange noises."

In spite of my irritation, I can't help but grin at that. He does have a point there . . . "Yeah, but I highly doubt that's a real life lesson."

The two of us continue to speak as we traverse through the castle. When we are out of the tower, I decide to change the subject. "So what does he want to talk about?"

Descon gives me an amused grin. I almost immediately cursed. He didn't have to say anything. "How many times do I have to tell him!? I just . . . we all know I'm not cut out to be a king. I know that whole 'first-born' tradition and all, but honestly . . . I just, it's not what I want to do."

As he always does, Descon simply gives my shoulder a reassuring squeeze. "Everyone in the castle knows that, Rehi. You've made that obvious pretty much since you learned what your heritage is. And you know Ehring and I are on your side."

I can't help but smile to that. "If I can't get this through father's thick skull . . . I just, both you and Ehring could do the job a hundred times better than I could. If only I had had the sense to be born last . . ."

Descon smiles at me, but both of us turn when we hear another person telling us to wait. I turn, as does Descon, to see an older teenager wearing a cloak rushing over to us. I grin when I recognize him as my youngest brother. "Ehring, good morning."

Unlike me, Descon doesn't happily greet him. Instead, he raises an eyebrow. "And just where have you been? You gave your servant a heart attack this morning! He went to wake you up and you weren't even in bed!"

I grin as Ehring shrugs. I can see his rosy cheeks, there's no doubt in my mind about where he had been. "Were you drinking again?"

Ehring shakes his head no, but his rapidly reddening face tells me otherwise. I only chuckle. Being the third-born, not much was going to be expected of Ehring, and he loved causing trouble because of it. Unlike Descon, who is going to end up as my advisor, Ehring would have to be something like Descon's advisor. In truth, I'm a bit jealous of him having this kind of freedom. He certainly has his fair share of our father's temper directed at him, but even then Ehring still has so much more freedom than I do.

It's not long before the three of us are walking through the hallways side by side. I grin as I realize Ehring certainly had been drinking. While he isn't so inebriated that his voice is that affected, he isn't doing too great at walking in a straight line. I can see the disapproval in Descon's eyes at Ehring, and soon he just can't stay quiet any more. "Ehring, do you realize how undignified that is? Quit stumbling around like a drunken peasant and walk like the royalty we are!"

Ehring's response, consisting of a deliberate hiccup and a much more exaggerated stumbling motion, gets me to laugh. He loves to set Descon off. Of course Descon's not as entertained as I am, and soon he tries to take Ehring by the arm in what I'm guessing is an attempt to make him stop stumbling around. Ehring's too crafty for him though, and he times one of his 'sways' so he just slips out of Descon's grasp.

Ultimately, it's not long before Descon's fuming in anger as Ehring slips out of his grasp again and again. But by this time there's not much he can do. We're almost to the throne room now, so I tap Ehring on the shoulder and tell him that it really is time to get serious now. Ehring immediately smiles at me as he says alright and stops swaying. I can almost feel the rage emanating from Descon.

But of course, he doesn't have time to say anything. We all turn the corner, and the large doors to the throne come into view, guarded by two soldiers in full-body armor. As we get close to the door, their helmets turn in our direction and the one on the left speaks.

"Prince Rehi and his brothers, you may enter the -"

I grin as I interrupt him. "First off, if you're going to address me by name, you should use theirs too. This one is my brother Descon, this one is my brother Ehring. Second,congratulations on your first day as a guard Silban."

I can't help the smile that comes to my face when the guard jumps. "H-how in the blazes . . . I-I'm even wearing the standard armor, and I-I've never even spoken to you before."

I laugh as the other guard immediately looks at Silban. "Get used to it Silban. He's got the guard schedule memorized better than we do."

That gets me to smile. "While, I wouldn't say I've got it memorized better than you do, Ikino."

Ikino laughs before he tells Silban to stand at attention. As Ehring, Descon, and I enter the throne room I chuckle at Silban's confusion. But as I see the large room, with the stairs at the end that led to the throne, my smile is wiped off of my face when I see father looking at us. My father is sitting upon his throne, giving us a look as if we do not meet his expectations. However, he simply motions for us to walk towards him.

I'm getting sick of these meetings. It's obviously time for another lecture, another one of the 'you're first born, so you have to be king' things again. I really can't care less that I just so happened to be the first one born, that did not change the fact that I'm just not cut out to be king. Once I reach the steps up to the throne, I speak.

Or, I try to. Before I can say anything Ehring abruptly rams me in the shoulder, pushing me into Descon with enough force that both Descon and I fall over. As we land I almost feel my heart stop when Ehring cries out in pain, and once I get my bearings I can't believe the scene before me.

There's a man standing behind where I had just been standing. He has a vicious scar that runs down the side of his face, and his hand is on the hilt of a sword. The blade of that sword is currently hidden from view by Ehring's cloak, and I could see Ehring trembling. Ehring just saved my life. I can only assume - since the blade of the assassin's sword is still hidden from my view - that Ehring was seriously injured as a result. And yet, father shows absolutely no surprise as he looks at the man. "Well?"

At that the man with the scar gives a slight smirk and lifts the sword away from Ehring. Now that I can see it, I'm completely startled to see that it's a wooden sword that we use to spar with each other. It would likely have had difficulty cutting through butter. As I try to comprehend what I'm seeing the man nods towards Ehring. "Out of the three of them, this one is the only one that noticed me in time. If this had been a real assassination, he would have just saved their lives at the cost of his own."

Both Descon and I are breathing heavily as the man nods towards us with a scowl on his face. "What is more, they both froze up when aware of the situation. Even with this one's sacrifice it would have been no trouble to kill them."

It's only when father shakes his head that I finally realize this was set up beforehand. As Descon and I get to our feet, the man addresses us. "Your father has asked me to teach you how not to die at the hands of an assassin."

I flinch. As Descon asks why in the world an assassin would choose to do that, I look at father. I'm not sure what to think. While I never want to talk about this subject in particular, I have to admit that at least it's something that might actually be important to me. I see our father grin as he answers Descon's question for the man. "There are several reasons this man would choose to teach you, but the most important one to him is that this is the alternative to being beheaded for attempting to assassinate the king."

That gets me to stare at my father. "Attempted to - he tried to kill you? When did this -"

Father doesn't even wait for me to finish the question. He must have been expecting it. "About three hours ago, when it was still dark out."

That only makes me more startled. I look at the assassin but he simply gives a shrug. "I just wasn't careful enough in the approach. Now I -"

This time it's Ehring that interrupts. "But why should we trust you? You tried to kill our father! We should be treating you as an enemy!"

Descon and I immediately look at Ehring. Descon says almost exactly what I'm thinking. "What are you doing, you idiot!? Don't piss him off!"

But to our surprise, the man actually laughs. Once he's done, he grins at Descon and I. "I'm not offended. The number one rule when it comes to assassins, no matter if you're the client, the assassin, or the target, is that you can never be too careful."

I don't know what to say. Father grins at me before he nods to the man, and the man nods back before telling the three of us that he is going to give us the basics first. But by this time I'm starting to snap out of my shock and I ask to speak to my father out of earshot. Soon the man, Ehring, and Descon are all standing by the doors into the room, and I walk up to the throne and whisper to father so they can't hear. "This is it? This is what you wanted to see me for?"

Father smiles as he nods to me. "Rehi, this is a compromise. I can't teach you how to be king, because you don't want to learn. But you should know that just the fact that you are the first-born puts you in danger. Sooner or later, assassins will come for you. And who knows how to stop an assassin better than another assassin?"

My face flushes in anger. "I told you already father, I wouldn't be a good king. This is just another attempt to 'teach' me, isn't it!?"

I gnash my teeth when father's smile broadens. "Yes, but are you truly going to pass this up? You're working on your little story about an assassin, are you not? What better way to get inside an assassin's head than to listen to one for an entire day?"

What . . . how? I can't believe it. How does he know? I hadn't told him what the story was about! I just got the idea for it this morning! "H-how . . ."

Father grins before he nods towards the doors. When I look over there, the assassin has this smug little smirk on his face. "Just so you know, you spelt 'reply' wrong. It ends with a 'y' instead of 'ie'."

What? But . . . "How long was he following us!?"

Father laughs as the assassin's smirk grows a little broader. "Until you ran into your drunken brother, I was following you. At that point I took a quicker way to the throne, where I set up at the door for you to enter."

I cringe, but father soon motions for me to lean in close. When I do, his look turns serious. "Rehi, last night a pretty sizable chunk of our wealth went missing. We are not sure on what happened to it, but it was a lot. Enough, in fact, to likely convince an assassin to take the life of a royalty. Someone within our family is being targeted. It's likely me, but there's a small chance it could be one of you three. I'm not taking any chances."

~Noroi~

I can't believe it. I just can't believe it. Whiskey Girl!? I thought he had died . . .

I frown as I continue to watch through the castle window. This would get interesting. I'm too far away to hear what they are saying, but I'm a good lip reader even from this distance. Good enough to get the basics of what's going on down there.

How bizarre. This king almost got murdered by Whiskey Girl, yet he's willing to put that aside and have Whiskey Girl teach his boys how to think like an assassin. It seemed too coincidental that, just after the night I accept a job from someone he knows well, he's suddenly having an assassin test his children. He knows something's up.

I'm actually impressed at how well my client is keeping up his charade. He's shaken, but that's a believable reaction after a fight-or-flight moment that he had just had. But he's made a huge mistake by paying with royal money. Of course the king would realize something is up.

What do I do now? I hadn't expected the king to catch on before I even went for the target. He'll be very suspicious now, it will be even harder to get away unscathed. Security will be tight, and something tells me that the king will be hard to fool when he's so unsettled. Following that line of logic, I should bide my time and wait for the castle to calm down.

But what about my client? He can't keep up the charade forever. And each passing day will allow my target to be trained better and better. Right now is when he's most vulnerable. What's more, Whiskey Girl knows as well as I do how to tell when someone's a client. No, I can't wait. My client may be skilled with deception, but he can't fool Whiskey Girl for long.

But then again, I could always talk with my client and explain that I have deemed the job too dangerous. That would be the safest way to get myself out of this situation. But that doesn't sit well with me. I've already given my word, and besides . . . I know I can do it.

Either way, I have to leave this current spot. I've already had to duck out of sight now twice, both times when Whiskey Girl looked up here. If it was anyone but him, I would probably let myself be seen to lower their expectations of me. But not Whiskey Girl. He'd recognize me immediately, and he wouldn't underestimate me.

And as I get down from that window I reach my answer. I will not abandon my client. But I need to get this job done as quickly as I can. The target had been in a nearby tower before, hadn't he? What had he been writing? I decide to find out, and I casually begin climbing the rocky side of the castle. When I get to a nearby window I look in and, when I deem it safe, I slip into the castle.

I don't ever go to the ground. I watch the soldiers patrolling the hallway carefully, knowing that if something went wrong, I'd find myself against them. I soon climb across the ceiling, knowing full well that people never look up. But I also know I have to hurry. This trick was taught to me by Whiskey Girl, so it would be safe to say he wouldn't be fooled.

Fortunately, it doesn't take long to reach the tower. I stealthily climb the stairs, alert for the sound of anyone coming down. Soon I reach the room the prince had been in, and after seeing the door closed I slip in the room through the window instead. From here I can easily see what he has been doing, and I'm rather amused to see he's trying to write a story.

I slip into the room and look at the scroll, greatly amused when I realize how little he has written on it. And as I look at it, an idea strikes my head on how I could maneuver the boy into position. With a slight grin on my face I sit down and dip the quill into the ink bottle. There was no telling how much time I had. I would have to set this up quickly.


Some people may be wondering why Prince Rehi is the way he is. I was looking for someone to model his personality off of, someone who was unique. And I got my answer when I looked in the mirror. Yes, that's right. Prince Rehi is based off of me. Every act he does - from complaining about the fast-drying ink all the way to memorizing the guard's schedule for no real reason - is almost exactly how I would act in his shoes. The thinking that he put into HIS short story is the same crude style that I use when I'm first making an idea for a story. If you think I'm strange, that's your own opinion (*cough* jerk *cough*)

By the way, don't expect this story to rival We Four Freaks in chapters. This is a short story I'm making because I liked the plot idea I had for it :)