Protect each other. Damir closed his eyes at those words. How helpless he had felt when the boys held him down and he couldn't keep them away from his little brother. Oh, he knew Angelius wouldn't run like he'd told him to. Stupid. So stupid. He didn't dare look down at his brother. He knew it would only upset him if he saw any of the cuts and bruises that he knew he now sported.
The man, that we shall finally name because calling him man is boring, Conrad, Conrad the man. Man Conrad. He saw the change of heart in the eldest boy's stance before he said anything. "Good."
Damir blinked his eyes open and stared. "Good what?"
"For deciding to join me. Now. Boy." He held out his hand to Angelius. "Give me that, you do not have any use for it right now."
Damir stepped forward as if to continue to argue even though Conrad seemed to have already finished the conversation and left him and it in the dust.
Angel stepped back, gripping his dagger tightly and shook his head.
"That's his, you can't take it." Damir said, coming to his brother's aid, though he had NO clue where Angel had gotten the dagger.
Conrad sighed and deftly plucked the dagger from Angelius's fingers. Angel shouted at him angrily and jumped after it. Damir lunged at Conrad in an attempt to grab the dagger but the man planted his foot on Damir's chest and gave a gentle kick sending the boy flying backward. Damir landed a few feet back in a heap gasping for air and staring up at the sky. Okay. Ow. Didn't the man just say he was going to provide food, clothing, house, all that nice homely stuff for them and he just kicked him? What the actual WHAT? Damir sat up on his elbows more angry than hurt. "What was that for?!"
Conrad tucked Angel's dagger in a sash that wrapped around his waist and Damir noticed the gleam of other knives stowed there. "I said," he reached down and pulled Damir to his feet by the front of his SHIRT (he's got a yellow shirton.) making him feel like a small child. "That your brother has no use for it right now." He looked back at Angelius. "You will only hurt yourself or someone else. Like your brother here. When you know how to use it, I will return it to you."
Conrad raised an eyebrow and gave Angelius a pointed look. "Is that understood?"
.xxx.
He felt as if a part of himself had been removed. As if the manly man named Conrad had just snatched it away. Well, technically he had. In fact, he'd tucked it away before his very eyes. But in that moment, as he met those dangerous eyes again, he didn't see Conrad. He saw his father, and his spine straightened. It was true. The handle was too bulky for his hands and he would have never tried to actually use it if not for the attack. In fact, he wouldn't have even been carrying it around if not for their father's untimely death in the first place. Damir's valiant defense ended in a swift kick to the chest, sending him and his yellowshirton flying. A guilty pang echoed through his heart. Would every blow his brother took for him resonate this way? Damir's bloodied face didn't help with the way his chest ached. Well. His older brother couldn't protect him forever. He would have to do that for himself, too. So they could watch out for each other...so Da didn't have to be so alone in taking care of them. Angel felt the shift in his chest as he stared at Conrad so intently he might have shot laser beams right through those shifty almost-to-the-moon eyebrows of his. He'd recognize that feeling as "growing up," later on, and marvel at how much of it he'd be doing in the coming years. He shot his brother a grateful look, and then his suddenly steely gray-blue eyes settled back on Conrad's face.
"My father gave me that," he said, and marveled that his voice didn't shake or crack. Thank whatever gods were smiling on him. That would have been beyond embarrassing. "He said he'd teach me to throw it someday." Angelius didn't know that the knife wasn't weighted or balanced for throwing, that it would lean sharply to the left once flying through the air, and that the blade was surely not of very fine steel. Conrad would know. But it wouldn't have mattered to Angel. For only days after he'd spoken those words to his youngest son, John had been found dead, and it was the only thing he had left. Stepping forward, wondering where the hell this sudden braveness was coming from as a tiny voice in the back of his head screamed (TROLLLLL IN THE DUNGEON) for him to just run, ditch Damir's butt and run like hell and hope the scary man doesn't eat you when he catches you because you know he will, Angel grimly stuck out his hand.
Because a man is only as good as his word, and since he didn't have a knife anymore, all he had was a handshake. Well, it had been good enough for John. Maybe it would be good enough here. "Your word?" he asked, and inwardly scowled at the little bitty bby unicorn tremor that threaded his voice. What if the man said NO SCREW YOU CHILD IT'S MINE BOY MINE FOR THE TAKING and ran away? What if he just said "no." There would be nothing in this great big world he could do about it. Not until he grew up. Whenever the hell that was going to be. And even then, he couldn't imagine himself attacking Conrad. Well. Not attacking and winning, anyway. An important distinction when evaluating future foes. It would become a skill of his. So he just waited, and hoped to those same gods who were lending him the spine of steel that Conrad would shake his hand, say ok, and they could just...go to wherever happy hole he'd come out of.
Please, he begged silently. Just say yes.
The notion that Conrad couldn't be taken at his word never even crossed his mind.
.xxx.
Conrad couldn't help but smile at the boy. He acted far beyond his years. He grasped the boy's hand in a gentle grip. His hand enveloped the boy's tiny delicate fingers in comparison to his. SO SMALL AND TINY. But there was promise there, just as he could see in his eyes. "I promise." In examining the knife later, he would see the flaws there, but he would teach the boy to throw the knife. This was a promise he would not break. BECAUSE REDUNDANCY IN THIS PARAGRAPH IS NOT ENOUGH.
Damir watched the exchange surprised at how his brother stepped up to the man. How much older he seemed when he challenged the guy. I mean, it made him feel like a little kid. Well that's rude. Here he was getting tossed and kicked around by a bunch of other kids and the guy. The kid gets a handshake. A freaking handshake. He sighed and dusted himself off. Not to mention, Father had given Angelius a dagger. He couldn't help but feel a little hurt by that. Sure, he knew that… Father maybe felt comforted that Angelius would have that extra protection? But what about him? He didn't have anything… He was bigger, older. That was probably why… Yeah.
Conrad's words drew him away from his sulky thoughts. "-rules."
Damir looked up. Of course. Adults always had those. "What?"
Conrad shook his head and walked out of the alleyway without looking back, expecting the boys to follow. He looked back at Damir, annoyance evident on his face before repeating himself. "There is a code that I expect all of the Brotherhood to follow. Violation of these may and can result in execution." He paused and looked back at the boys for dramatic effect. Damir stopped and looked up at Conrad, unable to keep from swallowing slowly. "Because you are both children, you have additional rules that you will be expected to follow. Punishment will be enforced, of course. I do not tolerate disobedience, so learning the rules quickly will be vital to your training."
He slithered through the crowd still expecting the boys to keep up. And if they couldn't. They better find him fast or they were screwed.
Damir panicked for a moment when he thought he lost sight of Conrad in the crowd of people. He grabbed hold of his little brother's SHIRT and hauled him onward after the adult. But the flash of the white hood brought a flood of relief to his heart, and soul, and body, and mind. And everything. BAM. It was only logical. Just like needing a username and password.
They finally broke through the crowd where Conrad was waiting for them, his hood drawn up again. They were at the outskirts of the city which made Damir second guess what he had just gotten them into. All the stories the farmers had told him. They were gonna be kidnapped, killed, and dumped on the side of the road. Yup.
Conrad gave a short, shrill whistle and two horses trotted over to him nuzzling at his chest. He patted each horse's neck fondly and then hoisted Angelius up onto one's back, Damir the other. He handed the reins to Damir and positioned the boy's hands, "Hold tight, don't pull back, pull up if you wish for her to stop." Damir nodded, eyes wide with uncertainty.
Conrad swung himself up behind Angelius and clucked his tongue a few times. He gave a gentle kick of his legs, leaned forward and HIYAH! HI-HO! OFF TO KILL WE GO 8D
And because we cannot write horsies very well and we do not want our friend to kill us with our failure… we zoom forward to Brotherhood Central because I do not want to write that journey because of reasons and idles are stupid and that is not fair. ANYWAY. The ride was short, by Conrad's estimation. For Damir on the other hand, it could have been FIVE MILLION YEARS. The jostling of the ride was extremely uncomfortable for one. Secondly, it was terrifying. The horse was too big for him. The ground looked way too far away for his liking and he thought he would surely be trampled if he fell off. Damir recognized that he preferred his feet planted firmly on the ground. None of this horse business. It also made him realize why he'd never followed after the other kids in scrambling up trees, or up into the hayloft of barns. Not since he'd fallen out of the tree he and Angel had been climbing on. Heights were not his friend. He closed his eyes and hoped the horse would follow after the man's without his direction.
Damir hadn't realized they'd stopped until he was being dragged off the horse and his hands pried free of the reins. Conrad clapped a hand on the boy's shoulder to steady him. "Easy, Damir."
Damir blinked a few times and looked up at the man, "How do you know my name?" The assassin gestured to his younger brother as if that explained everything.
U HEAR NOTHING WHEN U ON HORSE, DAMIR. In the interest of letting other people reply and not taking five million more years, the day had grown… late. Because you can grow late and long shadows stretched across the ground. "I will show you where you both will sleep for tonight. We will go over the grounds tomorrow. Feel free to explore for the rest of the evening, but if you get lost, be prepared to stay there until I, or someone else comes and finds you." He led the boys to what looked like a small housing complex and opened a door so the boys could see a small bedroom with basic bedding needs. No actual beds just some padding and blankets. "Welcome to the home of the Brotherhood. We are the leading guild of assassins. Here you will train to be assassins and eventually join our ranks as one. My name is Conrad, you will call me Conrad until I accept you both as apprentices. At that point, it will be Master Conrad. Goodnight." He left the boys to their own…. fun adventures or sleep times. Silent like… the… night. Or something. :}
.xxx.
Angel could have thrown himself on the ground and praised any of the many gods who might have still been paying attention to the odd little group. He said yes, he said yes, he said yeeees! He practically sang in his little mind, resisting the urge to. I dunno. Do a jig. Or. Something celebratory. He felt like he'd just faced down the dragon and won. (He fought the law and...He won!) But as Damir rose, he cast his brother something of an apologetic look. He hadn't been knocked across the alley, and he'd gotten a handshake in exchange for the knife. Come to think of it, why had Father given him a blade, but set aside nothing for his eldest son? Had he thought Damir capable already, whereas Angel needed extra protection because he was a shrimpy McShrimp in a BigMac box? He kept expecting his brother to reveal a gift John left just for him, but as time went on he realized it wasn't happening because Damir hadn't gotten one. Would that hurt his feelings? How would he have felt if their Father had given Damir something, but left him out instead? Before he could chase that thought further down the rabbit hole where certain guilt awaited him, Conrad began speaking of rules. And Angel loved to know what rules were...usually so he could follow them. Except for the bread thing. Seriously, that was a one-off incident.
But wait...execution?! Whaaat oh no sir you just back this bus right uuup what do you mean, execution? Like dead? Like really dead? What rule could someone possibly break that would be cause to knock their head off? He could already see the way they'd roll. Literally. Across the floor. Like coconuts. He shuddered. Ick. Was this a good idea, really? Really? Was it too late to take it back? Changing one's mind was still possible, right? He practically clung to Damir as they raced after the scary-ass man. Who might someday kill one or both of them. Great. Seemed like a good idea at the time? Perhaps they should turn tail and run away OHSHIT nope horses dang darn son of a—Angel bit his lip and tried to make the thoughts go away. If there were rules, and the rules were followed, there'd be no dying, he reasoned. And he'd be sure to follow those ones. All of them. Completely. Like 100%. For real, this time.
Before he knew it, he was being hoisted onto the back of a pretty pony. Annnd the terrifying man was sitting behind him OH GOD HE'S GONNA EAT MEEEEE. Feeling as though his heart was going to beat right out of his puny little chest, he wrapped his fingers in the horses' silky mane and clung to it like a little barnacle. A really determined-not-to-die-right-this-second barnacle. It didn't take too long for him to realize Conrad hadn't put them on horses just to fling them off into the countryside by their necks, and so he began to relax. The big man didn't ask many questions. Mostly because he didn't need to. At any slight hint of conversation, Angel's nerves prompted him to...well. Volunteer any information he felt was necessary. Unfortunately, he did like to talk, and it was not serving him well in this situation. Even as he frantically tried to shut himself up, his mouth just...kept...doing that thing it was doing. He shot the man the most guilty, apologetic look in the universe as he found himself on the ground again, because dear lord this was not a man whose ear you wanted to talk off. He was surprised they were still attached. Unlike the eyebrows.
Really, the room wasn't all that bad, especially compared to the little home they'd come from in the first place. For a moment, he just stared in silence. Exploring. Right. He liked to explore. But Damir had been woken up from...not much sleep and then promptly dragged across the country. Oh and punched. Like a few times. Courtesy of his lovely younger brother. So, the first thing he did was turn to said brother. "I'm sorry about the bread, Da," he said, wishing there was a hole he could crawl into. "I shouldn'ta dunnit." There goes that grammar again. Stellar student, you are! "I didn't mean to get you into...into…" He looked around and shrugged. Whatever the heck 'this' was. Plus a fight. Don't forget about the fight. Granted, based on Conrad's reaction to the little jerks, it never should have happened, but Damir still hadn't been exactly pleased to see his little brother wagging a stolen loaf of contraband in his face. The grounds were beautiful though, and he wondered what all belonged to Conrad. (Everything the light touches?) Exploring, however, was the last thing on his mind. Getting lost didn't sound fun and the last time he'd gone off on his own, well...this had happened, and he was afraid of setting off an explosion or something if he dared try his luck again.
.xxx.
Damir stepped into the small room and leaned against the wall just beside the door, leaving it open. He tucked his hands behind his back and just stared at the opposite wall and sighed. His shoulders slumped with the motion as if the weight of the past day and a half was finally giving way and visibly weighting them down. His hands dropped to his side and he winced, when had he been hit there? He thought the aches would go away but they were only getting worse. This was the first real fight he'd ever been in. He didn't like it. He touched two fingers to the dried blood on his lip and grimaced then sighed again. Woe is me. He finally looked at his little brother. "It's…" He swallowed and tried again. "It's okay Angel. I understand that you were trying to be nice. It wasn't your fault that those bullies followed you." He tried to give his brother a small smile but it only hurt his lip and fresh blood oozed there. He frowned and wiped at it angrily.
He sat down cross-legged on the blankets and plush padding. "What do you say? Do you want to go exploring, get lost, then wait for daddy Conrad to come get us in the morning and yell at us?" A mischievous glint showed in his blue eyes, tired though they were.
.xxx.
He watched his brother closely, and couldn't help the morbid curiosity that came with wondering what it felt like to be…well, beat up. He'd been lucky enough to escape with only some soreness around his middle where he'd been grabbed. Of course, with the way Conrad talked about training and all, it wouldn't be long before he found out. Folding his arms, he inspected the room again to avoid looking too closely at the fresh blood on Damir's face.
"Shoulda noticed," he said half-heartedly. But how could he have even known to look for a sneaky jerkball following him, anyway? Especially in a crowded city, the likes of which he'd never seen before. Nor Damir, of course, but Damir hadn't been boneheaded enough to go get himself followed by a group of douchebags who liked to pummel people smaller than themselves. The word 'exploring' perked him up visibly, but then he cast a suspicious look at the open door.
"I don't know," he said uncertainly. "Are you sure it's a good idea?" The notion of Conrad being anywhere near the word 'daddy' made him decidedly uncomfortable, so he just avoided it. Because that's what you do when you have no idea how to voice your weird feelings. "Exploring hasn't turned out very good so far…" Oh but it was sooo tempting! He fidgeted and looked out the door again. "Maybe one look around wouldn't hurt?" he suggested, and inched towards the outside.
Damir rolled his eyes. "You get caught stealing a loaf of bread and suddenly you're a chicken? C'mon." Much like his eyes, Damir rolled to his feet and dragged his little brother out the door. He rubbernecked before shutting the door quietly behind them. The beginning of sneaky assassins we have. Why Damir thought it would be fun to act sneaky, he knew not, but let's do it anyway.
The sun was sinking just below the horizon so the shadows were lengthening even more, providing the perfect cover for them to play hide and seek. Or hide and explore. "Let's see…" Damir looked around but couldn't see much worth exploring. It looked like a lot of stone and… boring. There was a stable just outside of a wood-worked arch which he guessed was where they came from down a short path. So... not that way, that would lead them… back to the city. He hadn't seen the ride up so his sense of direction might have been a little skewed. He looked up and realized that they were on a mountain. More buildings that looked similar to the ones in the city wound up a path he hadn't realized was there. The path split a ways up and seemed to cut into the very mountain. "There!" He pointed and trotted down the stone path beckoning his brother to follow as he did.
He paused at the outcropping of stone that REACHED FOR THE SKY. (IT'S GOT A SNAKE IN ITS BOOT.) Placing a hand on the rough rock in awe, he let his fingers trail along its surface as he traveled down the path. At the end of the path there was a large circle dug out with sand covering the stone. What looked like two scarecrows to him but without the clothing stood at the edge of the circle. "What do you think this is?" He asked of his brother, looking back.
.xxx.
"It was a big loaf of bread," Angel protested, though he in no way resisted being pulled out the door. And he would always remember the way Damir had ended up under a pile of vicious little punks. He hoped if they ever met again, he could be the one in Conrad's position. Then Damir could have a turn. Maybe even two. He was the one who got elbowed in the face, after all. And everywhere else. Nevertheless, he happily followed his brother outside, over the river and—no, wait. It was different when Damir led the way. Because he was older and he knew better and Angel was more than happy to bop along at heels like the puppy they never had. The stables tempted him, but by the way Damir had practically turned green after the ride, he doubted his brother would want to visit on purpose any time soon. The place was huge, and unlike the earlier gleaming golden welcome of the city below, it was tinged with ominous shades of blue and purple as the sun relinquished its place in the sky. It didn't feel as menacing as it might have if they hadn't been brought here, though. He knew Conrad was out there somewhere, and he had a funny gut feeling that if they needed saving for some reason, he'd come.
Why of course he had no idea. They were nothing to him. Little specks on the sidewalk probably had more significance. Buzz Lightyear had more meaning. Literally anything else but two little boys he'd scrounged out of an alley via random turf scuffle.
So busy was he in thinking and looking around that he bumped right into Damir as the older boy paused to take in the arena. A word which Angelius would not know, but the narrator does, so there we go. "Wow," he said, his voice full of awe. "I don't know...but it looks like fun!" He headed toward one of the dummies, cautiously walking around it. For a moment, he pretended he was Conrad, circling 'round another poor sap to determine their fate. A shadow slunk along the edges of the ring, hidden from all but the trained eye. Or guards with a vendetta cuz you threw their buddy off a roof. Angel reached out and prodded the dummy, delighted with the concept. He didn't even care what they were for, he wanted to find out and do it. Maybe even more than once!
It was about that time as Angel, one hand on the dummy while he turned to grin at his brother, a knife sliced through the air dangerously close to Damir's face, and buried itself neatly between his fingers. Anyone would have forgiven him for the strangled yelp that escaped his throat. Yanking his hand away, he first tried to pull the knife free, but it had been buried too deeply for anyone his size to even hope to budge it. The thrower emerged from the shadows, a second blade lazily twirling between his fingers.
"Kids these days," he drawled, his voice lightly accented with a foreign lilt. "Don't respect anyone or anything." Before Angel could even blink, the cool steel of the knife lay against his cheek as the assassin deftly maneuvered around Damir. "You don't match your brother, little one," he crooned, and searing heat sliced against his skin as a hidden rune activated on the hilt. It didn't draw blood and it wouldn't scar, but an angry welt leapt up immediately and Angel hissed at the pain. "Clearly, you've already been in trouble tonight," he said, beginning to wrap his fingers around Angel's wrist. "And yet, you continue to court it. I think I'll make an example of—ow!"
Which is what happens when an angry nine year old loses it and totally bites your hand. "You ruined my speech," he practically snarled. Oh, now this could mean trouble indeed.
.xxx.
If Damir could sit down on the ground right there and just… give up he probably would have. If he didn't love his brother to the farthest reaches of the ever expanding universe and back to this little blue planet he probably would have just plopped down on his butt right there, fall back and probably rolled over and gone to sleep. Instead, he did what any proper big brother should do in such a circumstance. It was a good thing that Angel was too far away and it was dark enough that he couldn't see the new welt he had, or any motion he made in reaction to the pain. ANYWAY. He bent and picked up a sizeable stone and chucked it as hard as he could at the assassin, aiming at the assassin's head.
It TOTALLY… smacked him in the shoulder blade. Well he tried. He'd improve his aiming skills eventually. "Hey!" Eloquence. He was tired. Give him a break. He wasn't really thinking… it just sort of happened. His feet were moving and he found himself charging the assassin. Great, a replay of earlier events. Except, maybe it wasn't? He closed his eyes and hoped that the assassin had the same tailor as Conrad did and twisted at the last second reaching out a hand for the sash around the man's belt and grabbed at it. Ah yes! There it was. He saw the gleam and snatched at it, one of those shiny throwing knives. He caught it awkwardly and stumbled past. His stumble almost carried him to his face and stabbing himself which would have been NO HELP TO HIS BRO-BRO. He quickly turned to face the assassin that was currently holding his brother hostage. Sort of.
Damir held up the blade and tried to look as threatening as possible. "Let him go." He growled.
.xxx.
The older boy (for he was not quite a man yet!) stared at Damir in utter shock. Incredulation. Surprise. Complete and total W-T-F. How did he know what tailor he had?! That sash was special! He'd been...kid-handled! Fury flashed through his eyes and was tempered by the training he'd received thus far. Barely. Lucky for the little one he still managed to hold by the wrist. His shoulder ached, and he rolled it experimentally. Yep. Just as he'd thought. Perfectly fine. Ow. I mean, weak little bugger. Angel squirmed and flopped like a fish on a first date with dry land, desperately trying to reach Damir. Not again, he thought grimly. This time there was only one, but here they were—his older brother trying to protect him and about to get roundly trounced for his efforts. Even with a dagger in his hand, he'd be no match for this guy. Not if he could throw knives with such wicked accuracy. The assassin let out a breath.
"Oh," he said, his voice low and menacing. "You'll regret that, child." As Angel continued to writhe like a possessed freaky doll, he found himself hauled into a mostly upright position. The punch was neatly delivered, complete with a bow on top, and so perfectly placed, he almost had to admire it. Almost. It struck just below his solar plexus, and he fell to his knees, gasping for air. Holy hell. That wasn't very nice. As the air continued to rudely elude his lungs, he jerked his head up in time to see the man step forward, toward Damir. "Happy now?" he practically purred. "I let him go. Of course, he won't be going anywhere...and neither will you." It wasn't fair and it most certainly wasn't right, but he totally unleashed his assassin-y goodness all over Damir's face. In seconds the knife was back in the sash where it belonged and he had indeed roundly trounced the younger boy right into the ground where he ought to have been in the first place. Huh. What was that about Conrad showing up, again?!
"Now," he said, hissing fury between his teeth like red-tinged smoke. "You will come with me." Having had quite enough of these two trouble-making ruffians, he stalked back to Angel and hauled him to his feet. The pain in his ABDOMEN doubled, and he couldn't resist the whine. He was just a bby! The cruelty! The horror! The injustice of it all! With Angel practically dangling from one hand and Damir from the other, he stalked, full of righteous fury, toward the central building. Tall and imposing, the windows only dimly lit from within, it reminded him of a castle. Where vampires would take young boys to be sacrificed. Oh yes. It didn't even begin to describe what lay underneath it, however, the real hiding place of the Brotherhood. Dun dun DUNNNN. Conrad would be so pleased that he'd caught these two little troublemaking sacks of jerk. Sometimes, people forgot what kind of monster lived atop the hill. They were due some reminding. Maybe little pieces of their children sent back to them in boxes would do the trick? No, no, he chastised himself, never harm an innocent. Not that these balls of fail were innocent, exactly, but they weren't so guilty as to need to be chopped into bits, either. But they didn't need to know that. No, he suspected Conrad would simply have them dropped off back in the city with some kind of warning. Maybe he'd get to do it. He practically skipped towards the looming doors. It wasn't often one of them got the chance to truly please Master Conrad. This was a rare opportunity he was most certainly not going to squander.
.xxx.
Being shown who was bigger, better, and badder a second time that day was no fun at all. Damir struggled to keep hold of the knife but his brother's attacker got a few choice hits in. Their assailant knocked his feet out from under him and yanked the knife free of his hands easily enough. One day. One. Day. He tried for the knife again from his position on the ground but the man planted his boot on his chest and pinned him there. Reaching around, their 'friend' took hold of the back of his shirt and hauled him right on over to pick up his younger brother like he weighed nothing. This was not fun, fun, fun!
Damir practically snarled with absolute insane fury and tried to claw the man's grip free of his… wait for it… SHIRT. It seemed to be the favored gripping spot today. But his grip was positioned well enough that he couldn't twist around and get at the man's hand. Giving up about halfway through the trip he tried to soothe his brother… even if his brother was doing fine, it seemed to soothe his fraying nerves. "It's okay, Angel. It's okay. We're gonna be okay, we'll-" But before he could finish whatever he was about to say both he and Angelius were pushed forward. He stumbled but was able to catch himself in time. He held out a hand just in case Angelius had stumbled as well.
Conrad was speaking quietly with another assassin on the other side of the room and didn't notice the group that had entered. Their kidnapper knew otherwise. Conrad noticed everything and he was very conveniently making them wait because he had quite rudely interrupted his conversation with the other assassin. It was a few minutes more before the assassin gave a slight bow of respect and left. Conrad waited for the assassin to exit the building… and then waited even longer. The assassin that had dragged Angelius and Damir in began to fidget nervously. After what seemed like an eternity and a half, Conrad turned to face the little group. Their kidnapper immediately bowed.
Damir exchanged a look with Angelius then looked back to Conrad. What were they supposed to do? Follow the newly appointed jerk's lead along with the other assassin and bow? Conrad hadn't accepted them as apprentices and he hadn't given them any rules yet. Bowing seemed stupid. Standing there was good. He didn't want to bow and look stupid. Maybe they would train him to bow. Did they train people to bow? He pulled his attention back to the present and waited. So. What? Were they already in trouble and going to be kicked out? Conrad had said they could go exploring. Had he been lying? Adults lied. John had promised he'd be there for them always. That he would take care of them, but instead he had left and left everything up to Damir… He wasn't ready to grow up. He didn't want to be a liar too, but he was picking up on that habit and fast.
"Master Conrad," The assassin murmured respectfully, "I was-"
"Kalladin." Conrad cut the assassin off, a steely note in his tone but it turned amiable. "How kind of you to bring the children here." He strode forward at an easy pace and stopped a few feet from the trio. "Why?" He demanded. It wasn't especially loud, the way he said it, but there was an air of authority so absolute that anyone would have been insane not to answer him.
Kalladin, now named, steeled himself and straightened. "These children were playing in the arena. I'm not sure how they got this far but-" he was cut off, YET AGAIN.
"I brought them here." Conrad said simply. Kalladin gulped. Oops. Conrad continued. "So why, are they here? Did they…" He paused and looked at Angelius. His storm gray eyes narrowed. He leaned down and took the boy's chin between his fingers. Tilting Angel's head up and to the side, he examined the angry welt that Kalladin had gifted the boy with. "What. Is this?" Conrad asked the other assassin quietly without looking at him.
.xxx.
Being dragged like a sack of potatoes was officially not his favorite thing. Ever. At all. Angel huffed to himself and he wondered if, when he grew up, he could forever prevent being drug anywhere ever again. What was it about these children-manhandling-jerkballs anyway?! Conrad said they could go look, he hadn't said anything was off limits. His face hurt and he resisted the urge to pout. Damir had gotten worse before, twice already today, and he hadn't pouted. Hmph.
"Damir, I," he began to say, but then he caught sight of Conrad and received a lovely shove from behind. Damir was magical and somehow managed to steady them both, though how he'd done it Angel would never know. He kept repeating to himself that Conrad had said it was okay. Or…had Angel totally made it all up in his mind and they were about to get thrown off a cliff to certain doom and destruction even though he was pretty pretty sure Conrad said it was alright?! What would they do now? He'd been perfectly okay with the idea of learning how to do cool things here and understanding whatever strange order these guys had going on, complete with food and clothes and everything a boy could probably ever want. Probably. And now it might all go away. It wouldn't be fair to blame Damir for this, would it? He considered carefully. No, he decided, it was his fault to start with, therefore Damir wanting to explore (CONRAD SAID WE COOOULD) wasn't the bad thing that had brought them here.
Oh no. Ohhh no. The mushrooms. They were shitake. Kalladin only barely resisted the screaming urge to turn tail and run away. But then. Conrad would know where to find him. Conrad always knew. Shoot. Dang. Darn. Oh dear. He cleared his throat and watched with apprehension hanging heavy about his shoulders as his Master examined the present he'd left on Angel's cheek, way back when he'd thought they were darling little intruders and not…actually brought here by the Master himself. He said a silent prayer that maybe he wouldn't die completely tonight, and tried to formulate a sentence. Angel couldn't help the flinch as Conrad's fingers came toward him. Hey. The dude was terrifying and he'd already been accosted once tonight! But his words and tone were comforting. He wasn't mad at them. In fact, he sounded rather unhappy with Kalladin instead. For a moment, he seriously debated mentioning the bruise that was surely blossoming at that very moment under his shirt (SHIIIIRT IN THE DUNGEON), but a quick glance at Kalladin changed his mind. If Angel told on him, he might find him later in his sleep and do something worse. You never know. So he wisely kept his mouth very shut and instead preened inwardly as the other assassin tried desperately to put together some words that wouldn't end with his being. You know. Eaten. Never harm an innocent. Shit, shit shit shit, he thought.
"I didn't, well I was actually, uh…" Kalladin clasped his hands in front of him and recalled that last time he'd spoken this way had been to his instructor, whom he had been quite terrified of, he had received a punch in the face for his trouble. Because if you can't even put together a sentence to someone who intimidates you, wtf are you going to do with a weapon? Hmm? That's right, die. So he mentally punched himself in the face and continued. "My deepest apologies, Master Conrad," he said. The inner prayers came complete with a choir, just in case he did perish this night. "I didn't realize they were under your protection. I came upon them in the arena, as I mentioned, and thought them to be from the city. I recall we had some trouble with children several months ago and I immediately thought to make an example of them. To rid ourselves of any future...issues." Children, somehow, managed to be ridiculously sneaky and sometimes get past the assassins who patrolled the walls, so he hoped and prayed Conrad would understand his line of thinking. Perhaps he should have just drug them in first instead of trying to scare the shitakes out of them. But then, if they hadn't been brought in with Conrad, he wouldn't even be thinking these thoughts. He couldn't bring himself to meet his Master's eyes, feeling like a puppy who just had picked on the younger puppies and gotten caught, not at all like the assassin he was training to be. Stoopid kids. This is why nobody likes them. "I hope you can forgive my grievous error," he added. Plz2notkillmeConraddd!
.xxx.
Conrad released Angelius's chin and straightened. He gave Kalladin the time he needed to explain himself. He was patient as Kalladin apologized and gave a… rather useless excuse, in his book of… SECRETS. A giant book full of many secrets. Mwahaha. He let Kalladin's words hang in the air for a minute. And then s'more minutes. And then longer. The silence stretched between them. Even the crickets didn't dare sing because… well. Do not interrupt the Master Conrad's silence.
"Kalladin," Conrad said his name gently, but the assassin still flinched. "What is the first tenet?"
Kalladin swallowed and… yes, yes it did happen. A bead of sweat trickled down his brow. We gotta have some cliche going down, yo. "Never harm an innocent." He replied meekly.
"Good." Conrad praised. "Stay your blade from the flesh of an innocent. So again, I ask. What, is this?" He took hold of Angelius's chin again—a little more roughly than necessary this time and tilted the boy's head to show Kalladin the wound.
Damir totally would have told Conrad to back it right on up and stop manhandling his brother that way, but knew somewhere deep down that if he did he might become the headless horseman. Without a horse and nowhere near as terrifying. So, he kept his trap shut and as much as he wanted to enjoy this, he really didn't. Not at all. He looked at Angel with his cheeks squished between Conrad's fingers. Kalladin looked at the boy then back to his master, his expression finally melting into one of guilt. Conrad released his grip on Angelius and gently pushed the boys aside so that he could loom over Kalladin. He was a tall man. So he was pretty great at looming. Doom, gloom, and loom. "I left these boys not but an hour ago. Did they kill someone in that time? If so, please show me the body, as you know how I hate a mess."
Kalladin could only stand there and continue his best impression of the dog of shame. "No body? So they did not kill anyone? So that would make them…" Conrad paused and waited. And waited.
"Innocent." Kalladin finally responded. ASTUTE STUDENT, YOU ARE.
"Correct. Even had there been children trespassing and you wanted to… make an example of them." He paused, disliking the phrase that Kalladin had used. "They. Are children." He held out his hand. "Give it to me."
Damir looked between the two assassins. He had NO clue what to think of Conrad at this point. The man was impossible to read. He took Angel's shoulders and pulled him closer as if that would protect him from the scary assassins.
Kalladin looked up at Conrad, horrified. Conrad waited. "But, it took me a year to earn-" An eyebrow arched. Kalladin quieted and reached for the knife that he had used to harm Angel. Conrad waited. Kalladin hesitated. Conrad twitched his fingers. The younger assassin sighed and placed the blade, handle first in Conrad's hand.
.xxx.
Kalladin watched the dagger disappear from his life and couldn't help the flash of anger and sorrow, tied closely to one another. However, he knew he'd done wrong in harming the boy, as Conrad's tone clearly indicated how he felt about making an example of children. Next time, he would not use a weapon. He'd bring any interlopers to his Master and let Conrad terrify them. It'd be much more effective anyway. Angel shook his head and rubbed at his face to clear the finger marks he was pretty sure still lingered there. Being closer to Damir soothed him, though he watched Kalladin carefully from beneath his dark curls, careful to breathe shallowly lest his lungs attack him. The assassin bowed to Conrad once again, lower than before.
"I apologize, Master. I will do better." Turning to the boys, he offered them a short bow, too. "And to you I must apologize as well. I should not have treated you as such." Angel would have said something in reply but decided against it, having no clue at all as to what the protocol was when accepting someone else's apology in this place. No one (except Damir) had ever apologized to him before, and he knew a grin and a friendly punch or, god forbid, a hug, was not the way to go here.
Resigned to his fate which was only bound to go downhill from here, Kalladin managed to meet Conrad's eyes. Taking a quick breath to steady himself, knowing it'd only be worse if Conrad found out later, he added, "I also may have..." he corrected himself. "I'm sure you will find a bruise where I struck him," he said, nodding at Angel. "By your leave, I will excuse myself to Mentor Palin, and explain the situation." And he'd be lucky to escape that without a few bruises of his own, as Palin was one of the strictest, most difficult Mentors in the Brotherhood. Earning the dagger had been hard enough. He couldn't imagine what it would take to get it back. He waited, head bowed and eyes lowered, for Conrad to either deck him or release him. Or both.
.xxx.
Damir had no idea how to react to the apology either. He could only stand there stupidly and keep his hands planted firmly on his brother's shoulders in a protective gesture. After a long moment, he pursed his lips and then inclined his head a little. He'd seen Conrad do it earlier, maybe he should do that? So he did it. It seemed good enough. When in doubt, follow the leader! Seemed sound advice. He could follow his own advice. It was good stuff. Most of the time.
Conrad's eyes narrowed dangerously when Kalladin admitted to his second fault. But he did well in doing so. It saved him from certain death, doom, and destruction. "Thank you, Kalladin. You are excused." He hesitated. Mentor Palin was among the harshest of mentors. Kalladin would explain what had happened, he had no doubts of that, but the punishment that would be dealt by the mentor in most cases would not be to Conrad's liking.
Kalladin's gratitude radiated off of him. Only too thankful was he that Conrad hadn't taken one of his legs for his admittance. He turned to leave but Conrad's voice stopped him again, he froze at his name. "I will be speaking with Palin tomorrow. I trust that you will explain the situation to him fully, correct?"
Kalladin bowed again. "Yes, Master Conrad."
"Good. You may leave now." If the punishment crossed the line, there would be words Conrad would have with Palin.
If Kalladin didn't think it would look bad and completely kill his pride he would have scampered out of there like a scared leetle mouse. But… he only walked… fast.
The door boomed ominously as it shut behind Kalladin. Conrad turned to the two boys and smothered the sigh of annoyance. These two had spirit, and already they had gotten into trouble twice. Was this a sign that they were going to be the death of him? He shook his head half-heartedly and walked back over to them. He dropped to one knee and pulled Angelius toward him by one arm. He examined both of the boy's arms, turning each over in turn. No bruises. He let go of Angel's arm and rest his elbow on one knee. He studied the boy for a long moment. "Ah." He lifted Angel's shirt and saw the nasty bruise there. He ran his fingers lightly over it. Nothing broken. He dropped the shirt and stood back up. "What happened?"
.xxx.
Angel almost felt just a tiny bit bad for Kalladin. He didn't know what the older boy was in for but it sure didn't seem like he was looking forward to it. Unfortunately for Kalladin, his Mentor once had a son of his own, and while he was pretty sure Palin wouldn't kill him, it would be close. It was tempting to blame the little brats for his trouble, but he knew no one would appreciate the sentiment. Still, they could have said something!
Decidedly uncomfortable, Angel waited stiffly for the inspection to end. He was surprised Kalladin had admitted to the punch, and kinda wished he hadn't since...being looked at by Conrad was not fun. He was suddenly intensely conscious of his skinny little self and wished for muscle. Or. Another shirt. Maybe like three shirts. He let out a sigh of relief and stepped closer to Damir once the big man released him, and the story came tumbling out. He told him how they had gone to look around and how Kalladin had crept up on them. That knife was probably still stuck in the dummy.
"But you said we could look around, didn't you?" he asked anxiously. Based on what had just happened he was pretty positive he hadn't made it up. But. Nine year old imaginations are vivid.
.xxx.
Conrad waited for Angelius to finish his story. He looked to Damir to confirm it. Damir only nodded in affirmation. "I did." Conrad said in response to Angelius's question. "It seems that you both need to be properly introduced before wandering the grounds. Had I known that the rules were so malleable," he spat the word crossly before continuing, "to my assassins I would not have let you roam freely. I will correct this immediately." Errybody gon' get whipped. He folded his arms over his chest, a steely glint in his gray eyes.
He glared at each boy, "Next time, be more aware of your surroundings."
Damir's jaw dropped. He couldn't POSSIBLY be scolding them for this. Could he? Was he? "But he was-!" Damir stepped forward, ready to argue with the man, but Conrad seemed to have an obnoxious knack for interrupting people.
"He has been taken care of."
"Yeah, but he attacked Angel first! We were just looking! And all you do is tell us to be more aware of our surroundings?!" Damir couldn't keep the anger from boiling over and he clenched his fists in frustration.
Conrad watched the boy with a stony expression. "Damir. Lower your voice."
"No! That's not fair! You just took his stupid knife away! He punched my brother and could have killed him!" Damir argued taking another step forward, challenging the man.
"Damir!" The assassin's shout was a whip crack in the room that made the boy flinch back and shut right up. "I said lower. Your voice." He said in a clipped tone. He looked the boys both squarely in the face one from the other and Damir swallowed, keeping his trap shut this time. "Take this as your first lesson. Always. Always be aware of what's around you. Accept that you were beaten tonight. Learn from it, don't begrudge it."
Damir looked down and glared at the floor. Stupid floor. "You are both excused. I will send someone to show you the grounds in the morning and give you decent clothing. If you cannot find your room, then I will send someone to find you in the morning." With that said, Conrad left the room on silent feet.
.xxx.
"Damir, it's okay," Angel said, but quickly and wisely shut his face as Damir challenged Conrad to a shouting match. And then proceeded to lose miserably. He considered the words carefully and shrugged. "I think it wouldn't have mattered," he told his brother as the older man stalked away. "Even if we noticed him...he still woulda won." Easily, too. Although at least they would have seen it coming. If you see a punch coming, does it hurt less? He didn't really think so. "It was my turn to get hit," he said, decidedly too cheerful about the situation. "Now I have a bruise, too!" Even if it hadn't felt pleasant at all to get it. Only a kid could be so happy to match his brother. Silly little tard. "Come on, Da. Let's go sleep."
Mercifully, they ran across no other assassins looking to beat up some kids. Damir had a better sense of direction and Angel, being more than slightly hyper vigilant, stuck close to his brother's side while scanning the darkness around them. Soon they were back to their little room, and with mumbled love-yous, collapsed into what had to be the best sleep ever.