Chapter 11
Talon grabbed the edge of a high cliff when he was caught off guard and thrown by Marcus,
'That was close.'
He pulled himself up to face his opponent, who was frowning at him,
"You're reaction is still too slow, boy," he said.
"Sorry master," Talon shifted his body back into a fighter's stance, awaiting another strike from Ducouteau.
Marcus dashed with lightning speed behind Talon, raising his blade for a strike. Talon spun around and brought up his armblade, just deflecting the attack. Marcus used his foot and swept out Talon's leg while said person was focusing on deflecting his katana. Talon fell back as he lost his balance. He felt a hard punch to his chest when he hit the ground. He let out a cough, then rolled back up to face Marcus again,
"You must be aware of your foe's every movement," Marcus explained, "A weapon isn't a person's only tool in battle." Marcus withdrew his katana and walked passed his student, "We're done for today."
"But we just started," Talon said back. "How can we be done already?"
"You need to save your energy."
"For what? Are you sending me on an assassination?"
"The Crimson Elite."
"Oh..."
"Is something wrong?" Marcus asked. The boy obviously didn't seem too happy about joining the Crimson Elite.
"It's just-it doesn't feel right taking orders from someone else."
"I appreciate your loyalty, boy, but right now I need you to take orders from Swain. Just until you find out what he's planning."
"I know, but it just seems a little hard to obey someone's orders I don't respect."
Marcus gave Talon a look of understanding, "Then maybe you could think of it this way: I order you to obey General Swain's every command. Understand?"
"...Yes sir."
Marcus smiled and patted Talon on the head, "That's a good boy."
The two made their way back to the mansion. Marcus, as usual, had work to do in his office, and Talon went up to his room to get ready to go out to Swain's headquarters to start his first day of being a member of Crimson Elite. He took his best knives and exited his room. He made his way outside and started walking towards the mansion's front gates. After opening them, he made his way to Swain's headquarters. Talon knocked on the door and waited for someone to answer. The door suddenly creaked open and Swain's voice could be heard from across the room,
"Come here," he said with his raspy voice.
Talon made his way in. Eventually he could see Swain behind a large desk with his bird perched on his shoulder. Talon stopped in front of the desk. Swain stared deep into Talon's eyes, as if looking for something inside him,
"You have come to serve me through the Crimson Elite, have you not?"
"I have, but only for the time being," Talon said without emotion.
"Good. As I trust you know, the Crimson Elite carries out special orders that-"
"Tell me what you need me to do," Talon interrupted. He wasn't in the mood to hear what he already knows. The Crimson Elite carries out special orders that benefits Noxus' goals. What he wants to know is what he is needed for.
Swain shot Talon an even deeper glare, "You do NOT interrupt your superior when he's talking!"
"KAW!"
Swain cleared his throat before starting again, "Since this is your first day, I'm going to start you off with something simple just to see what you're capable of. Also we've been needing to take care of this problem for a while now, so why not let you handle it?"
"What is it?"
"A group of Ionian pyromaniacs have gotten too comfortable inside a hidden base in Noxus. Apparently, they've been terrorizing several towns to see them go up in flames for their own entertainment," Swain stood up from his desk. "That is where you come in. Find this base and eliminate all the Ionians."
"Where's is it?"
"They've dug themselves a nice hole to hide inside in the underbelly. All you need to do to find them is look for buildings that are on fire. They tend to blow up everything they see after all."
"Then I'll take my leave," Talon turned around and headed for the door, not wanting to waste anymore time in Swain's office.
"Hmph," Swain said, "Some people just don't know respect."
Marcus stepped out of his office and gave himself a pat on the back for finishing his work early. It was just afternoon when he got done. Normally when he finished his work this early, he would have taken Talon out for more training, but Talon was out doing Swain's dirty work, so he couldn't do that. Though he never shows it, he enjoys having the boy as a student. And sometimes he can't help himself but think of Talon as an adopted son. Marcus made his way to his master bedroom and looked at the large garden through the window of his room. The beautiful sight never got old. The shady trees, the red rose bushes... His oldest daughter throwing a dangerous weapon at a wooden target-wait, what? Marcus immediately left his room and went towards the garden to see what's happening.
Katarina smiled almost wickedly when her dagger planted itself perfectly into the wooden target. She pulled out the dagger and threw it again, and again, and again until her throwing arm became tired. She didn't exactly know why, but she likes throwing sharp knives and daggers rather than wearing fancy clothes and dresses like her sister. It just felt more natural for her. She took her dagger and flung it at the target. It made a loud thump as the weapon struck the wood. It felt a lot more natural. She's only been doing this for a couple days, but already it has become her favorite thing to-
"You have good aim," Came an all familiar voice from behind Katarina, "but your form is sloppy."
Katarina froze. Marcus walked up from behind and put a hand on his daughter's shoulder,
"Where did you get that?" Katarina's father asked, pointing at the dagger stuck in the wood.
"D-Dad," Katarina said, trying to come up with a good excuse for what she was doing, "you finished early."
"Yes I have," Marcus said calmly. "Who taught you how to throw one of these?"
Katarina looked away from her father for a moment. Talon would be the answer to both his questions, but if she told him the truth, her father might become enraged and throw Talon out of the mansion. Or worse. Sure she might not have liked him at first, but now she's come to think of him as somewhat of a friend. Maybe even an older brother.
"Well?" Marcus asked. "You couldn't have been able to teach yourself how to throw like that."
Katarina hesitated, then took a deep breath before talking, "Talon gave me the dagger, and he also taught me how to use it," She said it quickly, as if trying to get it over with.
Katarina looked away from her father again. He would definitely be angry, very angry. Not only at her, but at Talon as well. She slowly moved her gaze back to her father, but to her surprise, he wasn't mad at all. In fact, he had a grin on his face.
"I'm sorry," Katarina said, thinking that her dad might have gone insane, "but please don't be mad at Talon. It wasn't his fault."
Marcus looked down at Katarina, "Talon did this, huh?" He walked over to the wooden target and pulled the dagger out. He came back and placed it in his daughter's hands. Katarina looked up at her father in surprise,
"Dad?" She asked, worriedly.
Marcus crouched down to Katarina's height, "How would you like to learn how to use this dagger properly?"
"You're okay with this? You're not mad?"
Marcus let out a laugh, "Are you kidding? I'm proud that my oldest daughter wants to learn my profession."
"I-" Katarina was speechless. This event went in a totally opposite direction than she thought it would.
Marcus noticed her speechlessness and gave her a concerned look, "Is something wrong, Katarina?"
Katarina snapped out of it and smiled back at her father, "Yeah, I'm fine. Can you teach me?"
Marcus pointed at the wooden target with a finger, "Now, here's what you need to do. . ."
Talon made his way toward the least populated part of the lower level. It would be the most logical place to check, since it would be the perfect place for a terrorist group to hide. The ground was charred black with ash, and the air was polluted with smoke and dust; more evidence that the pyromaniacs were around here, or at least been here. Most of the buildings in the area were either burned to the ground, or currently on fire. Talon walked on the burned streets, ashes and dust coming up from the ground with every step he took.
BOOM!
The ground rumbled as the sound of an explosion was heard. Talon turned around toward the source of the noise. What he saw was a huge pillar of flames erupting from the ground, burning everything around it. Near the blast was a bald man wearing red robes with a long, metal staff that Talon could only guess he made the fire with. With the design of the robe and the shape of his tattoos, one could easily tell that he was from Ionia.
It's go time.
Talon dashed behind the man and placed his armblade on his throat. The Ionian's eyes widened in horror when he realized the weapon at his neck,
"Where does your organization reside? Tell me, and I might just spare your life," Talon demanded. He pressed his armblade harder at the man's neck, drawing a stream of blood.
"I-I'll never tell you!" he said, voice trembling.
Talon pressed his armblade harder at the fire mage's neck.
"W-Wait! I changed my mind!"
"Spill it!" Talon threatened. "Or you will lose your throat."
"S-See that building over there-the one on fire?" the fire mage pointed at one of the flaming buildings. "I-It's in there-under ground I mean. It's in the basement of that building."
Talon looked towards the building the man pointed to, but kept his armblade around his neck,
"Y-You'll let me go now, right?"
"..."
Talon pulled his armblade back, splitting the warm flesh of the mage's neck. He fell to the ground, going completely limp as the ground was dyed crimson with his blood,
"Why do people always make that disgusting noise when I kill them?" Talon complained before heading for the building the mage pointed to.
The entire building was almost engulfed in flames. Talon cocked his head in the direction of where the entrance would be, hadn't it been completely blockaded by fire. So much for the easy way in. Since the ground floor was apparently inaccessible, Talon looked at the window to the next floor up. Looks like he'd be able to get in that way, and get to the first floor from there, but how would he get up there? He could try to jump up there, but if he misses, he'll fall into the flames surrounding the building. That's not really something he wanted to risk doing. Talon turned his head toward the bloody corpse on the ground. He focused his attention on the metal staff that the mage was still gripping tightly onto. He could use that. Talon ripped the metal staff out of the man's cold, dead hands and stuck it into a crack on the side of the building to use it as somewhat of a monkey bar. Talon grabbed the bar and swung himself up to the window of the upper floor. The sudden heat of the building became apparent when Talon entered through the window. Flames engulfed almost the entire floor, but why the wooden flooring did not burn was beyond Talon. A beam fell from the ceiling over the assassin's head, causing him to quickly roll out of the way as the beam crashed through the floor. The flames seemed to dance towards Talon when he noticed that they were coming closer to him. Someone was manipulating the fire. A stream of flames flung itself in Talon's direction. The boy jumped to the side as the flames whizzed passed his head, barely leaving a burn mark on the side of his hood. More flames flew by as Talon had to play dodge ball whereas the flames were the balls, and if he was hit, he'd be permanently out. A fireball launched itself from behind Talon and struck his cape, immolating it. Talon cursed as he unstrapped his cape and let it fall to the ground.
'Can't stay here dodging flames all day,' Talon thought when more balls of fire shot themselves at him, 'I'll burn up.'
Somehow in the middle of all that dodging, Talon noticed the hole in the floor the fallen beam created for him, and an idea made its way into his head. Talon dove into the hole and landed on a safe spot the fire hasn't touched yet. Now all he had to do was find a way into the basement. He spotted another hole in the ground. This one probably led down. He made his way to it, avoiding the dancing flames that would otherwise burn him alive. He jumped down the hole and landed on a dirt ground. A line of torches illuminated a dirt hallway that led in only one direction. Talon stood up and noticed that his head barely touched the ceiling of the tunnel. He started down the hall, his feat slightly sinking into the dirt with every step. It was a little cooler now, at least cool enough for a person to survive in. He took this time to recount his blades. He lost his cape in the fire, which had several hidden throwing knives inside it. A certain master will be far less than pleased when he finds out what happened to it. Overall, he has lost about half his blades in the fire. Talon came upon a rotten door at the end of the tunnel. He gripped the rusty doorknob and swung the door open. He stepped inside, and to his surprise, the scene changed completely save for the torches that lit the place. Instead of a tunnel of dirt, the walls and floors were made of a strange marble, as if it was created in a way it wasn't supposed to. The room also expanded into a large, underground building. A castle built below Noxus where no one would notice it. Strange on how something like this being built under Noxus went undetected. Talon stepped down a marble staircase that led deeper into the fortress,
"Greetings, child," came a voice from the lower room when Talon reached the bottom of the stairway. He looked in the direction of the voice. There was another robbed, bald man standing in front of a small group of roughly ten people. Some of them had robes with wooden staffs, while others had pieces of red armor on and scimitars that were covered in flames.
"Welcome to the temple of fire," said the bald man. "I offer you a choice: You can become one with fire like the rest of us, or let it burn you."
Talon remained silent and prepared to shadowmeld. He wasn't much for talk with an enemy anyway.
The bald man frowned, "I see you don't see the glory in giving in to fire," he turned to the group of pyromaniacs, "He cannot leave alive," He then proceeded to a nearby door that led deeper underground, "Don't make a mess."
The group of people grinned monstrously, as if they needed to kill like savages. The fire-loving maniacs drew closer to their pray. They came closer, and closer, until they were close enough to kill, but death wasn't something Talon took willingly.
"Enjoy the taste of steal," Talon said with a wry smile.
And with that, the assassin disappeared.
Cassiopeia was sitting in her usual spot under the tree reading a sappy romantic novel about some emotionless girl and a creepy vampire probably thousands of years older than her when she noticed her sister and her father spending quality time together... hitting targets... with a sharp knife. Cassiopeia being the social snake she was [Future pun unintended], hated being left out of these kinds of matters, so she decided it best she go join in on whatever they're doing. She left her sappy book on the grass and walked over to the center of activity. Katarina's dagger struck the target when the red haired girl threw it,
"We're making progress," The girl's father said, "but try aiming a little to the left, at where the heart would be."
"Right," Katarina said.
Cassiopeia was reminded of Talon and when he tried to teach her sister how to throw a dagger. He wasn't very good at explaining things, to be honest... Where was he anyway? She hasn't seen Talon all day.
"Gah!" Katarina yelled, frustrated. "Complete miss. This is so hard!"
"Don't worry, you'll get it," Marcus reassured.
Cassiopeia giggled at Katarina's frustration. It was always funny when her sister got mad, especially when it was at things someone shouldn't get angry about. Marcus turned his head and spotted his daughter giggling behind his back,
"Cassiopeia, what are you doing out here?" Marcus asked.
Cassiopeia stared at the ground and kicked a pebble that seemed out of place, "Just seeing what you two are up to."
Katarina let out a frustrated puff of air, "I'm trying to throw this knife perfectly."
Marcus also found amusement out of his daughter's frustration, "Don't worry, Katarina. It took me months to master the use of a dagger."
"MONTHS!? How many?"
"It took me around four, but that was nonstop training."
Katarina face-planted on the ground, "Aw man, four whole months. That's like... a third of a year."
"There, there. It only took Talon two months to learn how to use one of these properly. Who knows? Maybe you'll master it in a couple weeks."
"Where is Talon anyway?" Cassiopeia butted in with her curiosity.
"I sent him out on an errand. I think he'll be back by tonight."
"What kind of errand?"
"He's just doing some work for a fellow General of mine."
"What kind of work?"
"I can't say I know."
"It's getting late," Katarina said, trying to change the subject. "Can we have dinner soon?"
"Sure. What would you girls like?"
"Spaghetti!" Cassiopeia screamed in delight. "With lots of meatballs!"
"Don't forget the sauce," Katarina added.
"Sounds good," Marcus agreed, "I'll tell the chef."
Talon released his grip on his last kill. They were all dead-the foolish fire lovers-and the killer was on to the next room to confront the leader. He swung the door open and entered the chamber. There were flames nearly everywhere. The ground was almost melted to the point of molten lava. The bald man, the leader of the pyromaniacs, was standing at the far end of this furnace.
"So you have bested my men and women," he started. "Surely you have a gift."
Talon still said nothing to him. He wanted to get this over with so he can go back to the mansion.
The bald man continued, "Why waste that gift fighting me, when you will surely die? Join me, child, and together we will set this world on fire."
"Or maybe you're just scared to face me," Talon taunted.
The pyromaniac showed no anger towards Talon, "So you have chosen death, and I, Valhegan, will deliver it in the form of fire."
Valhegan, or so it was what he called himself, raised his right arm with his palm face up. All the fire in the room immediately responded and came together into a ball of flame atop his hand. He hurled the fireball in Talon's direction. Talon threw himself out of the way, and the ball of flames dispersed into an explosion where he recently occupied. Talon dashed at the fire mage and attempted to stab him in the gut. Valhegan brought up his staff and deflected the attack just before it connected with his flesh. He pushed Talon's armblade aside and struck the ground with his staff. Talon heard the ground make a crackling noise and noticed that it was lit up beneath him. A column of fire came up from the ground under the assassin, and Valhegan watched as he was burned alive,
"Such a waste," Valhegan mumbled.
The pyromaniac's eyes shot wide open as he felt the cold sharp feeling of hot steel pierced his left shoulder. He released his staff as the pain of gripping with his left hand became too much. Talon appeared behind him and pulled his armblade out of his shoulder,
"How did you escape my blast!?" Valhegan demanded, holding onto his wound with his right arm.
Talon moved with incredible speed up to his target and swung upwards with his armblade. Valhegan tried to dodge out of the way, but was too slow and the armblade caught his right arm and ripped it off from the shoulder bone. Valhegan whaled in pain as his arm dropped dead onto the molten ground, blood pouring from the severed limb,
"How can this be!?" Valhegan managed to say through the pain. "The fire gives me power! How can I be defeated by the likes of you?"
Talon readied his armblade again, preparing for the final strike,
Valhegan realized that death was imminent, and returned to his natural stature despite his missing arm, "No matter. My death will mean nothing. It won't change the storm that's coming," he grinned like a maniac. "Fire will ravage this land! You hear me?! The world will burn! Gahahahahaha-"
Talon impaled Valhegan with his armblade. He grew tired of his senseless rambling anyway. He pulled his armblade out, and the corpse dropped onto the ground, gushing out red liquids. The flames in the room started to die down, and the ground became cooler. Talon wiped the sweat away from his forehead. Another mission accomplished.
"That was... fast," Swain said. If he was surprised, he didn't show it.
"What did you expect?" replied Talon, not really caring for an answer.
"I expected it to take a few days, or weeks. Nevertheless, a job well done. You will be hearing from me the next time I require your skills... You're dismissed."
Talon turned and headed for the door, not giving Swain the respect of a bow or at least a salute,
"General Ducouteau, where did you pick that boy up from?" Swain asked as he sat back in his chair.
