The ambiance was tense tonight at the supper, though Beruka couldn't tell how. Her senses were in great alert, as if trying to warn her of something, but she was finding herself too interested in some odd Hoshidan dish to really care about that. It was a piece of "fish" (an animal that only lived underwater) tied to rice, some sort of popular food all over the continent but especially present in Hoshido. It was odd yet pleasant to eat, so Beruka took it upon herself to eat as much as she could, though she wasn't ignoring the other food on her plate. Wendel's plate, by contrast, was more barren, and she chewed on her food slowly, making sure to hide her lower jaw from Beruka's sight by lowering her head above the plate.

This attracted Beruka's attention when she was younger, but she was never swift enough to really see what Wendel's face looked like, and was told quickly that trying to check it would be seen as a "faux-pas" in polite society. Were she older, she would've replied that they were perhaps as removed from "polite society" as one could be, but yet she knew that her mentor wouldn't take well to such words, so she opted to quietly ignore it.

However, tonight was meant to be a special night. For she would know the truth! Perhaps this explained her stress? But why would there even? Was it some kind of harsh truth?

"Wendel?" Asked Beruka, after chewing a little on her food. "Did I do something to make you upset?"

"No." Replied Wendel, who pulled herself out of her reverie and began to eat in a half-hearted manner. "There's a lot of things on my mind, it's as simple as that… say, Beruka, do you wish to know more about me? Where I come from?"

Beruka smiled and, while she kept eating, leant forward, in obvious interest. Wendel sighed before speaking up. "I'm from a… region that does not exist anymore." Seeing the little girl's obvious confusion, she quickly moved on. "People invaded it and destroyed it."

"But why would they do that?" And Wendel's reply was a wiry, tired smile beneath her mask. "Who knows? You'll see that people will do terrible things because they think that it will lead to a good thing for everyone, or for territory and glory or fun." She said. "My country fell to people who sought to expand their own territory."

"How did you survive?"

"Goulet was there, on a mission, and for a reason he decided to… save me." She put emphasis on the word "save". "I don't really know why he did it. He took me in and then brought me back to Nohr."

Beruka found herself interrogated by that. "You've seen what Nohr looks like?" She asked. "How is it? Do you leave at times?"

"Sometimes, but since I've been tasked with keeping an eye on you, I don't come out as often. I don't mind, though. Nohr's environment is ravaged." She described. Beruka found herself doubtful at that, but didn't see fit to interrogate her. Maybe she was a pessimist? Nohr couldn't really be that bad after all.

When she visualized the world outside, she imagined that it would be like how it was described in the books and by the storytellers. A healthy land, teeming with animals and vegetation, with a lot of charming villages over the large hills and maybe forests as well. Goulet and Wendel both laughed a little whenever she spoke of it, so she learned to stop talking about it lest she end up mocked again. Or perhaps Beruka didn't want to imagine that the world outside could be as bad as described?

"Don't worry though, I'm not resentful. If anything, I'm glad about not having to come out." She continued. "I grew up in these slums, under Goulet's guidance. If you ask, I do not exactly remember my parents, or much of my life over there. I was only told that I was a child from a dead nation by him." Wendel considered eating but Beruka was leaning closely enough to amuse her. The masked assassin raised one finger and then pressed it on Beruka's head to drive her backward, in a gentle manner. Realizing what she was doing, the young girl giggled and allowed herself to be driven back.

"So, what did you do then?"

"I take care of the house or contracts, when he's gone." She said. "And I usually take care of the new children he adopts. I help them grow and all that."

"So, after growing, do they leave?"

"… They do leave the slums, yes." Said Wendel. She then put her plate away and leant forward. "I've been his student for a while. Nearly a decade of it. And I've seen him adopt quite a few stragglers here and there." Continued the lady. "None were as competent as yours, though. You made it for a while as a kid without her own group to back her up after all, and until yesterday, you never had to retry."

Beruka smiled. "Well, you're better than I am for now."

"… Yes, for now. But as a child, I was far less successful. I often ended up wounded." She pointed at her face. "I've got a lot of scars beneath that mask."

"But why don't you heal them?"

"Those stupid staves don't work when you use them on yourself and he likes the scars." She said. "It keeps an assassin active, serve as a reminder of a difficult contract and encourage them not to think of themselves as invincible. Something like that… He's an odd, cruel man."

"Where is he from?" And Wendel shrugged. "Oh… well, now that you've said about yourself, do I tell about me?" Said Beruka.

"Sure thing…" Wendel shifted on her seat while Beruka took over. "Well, I don't remember my parents too much. They were harsh, I think… But I remember very little because they abandoned me early." Wendel intervened at this point. "You don't seem bothered by it."

Beruka froze for a moment, looking at the side, but then smiled. "Well… it does bother me, but if they didn't care about me, then I don't care about them." She found herself replying. "I care more about my pack… They gave up on me." And as unconcerned about her parents as she was, the mention of her old group did bother her. "In Nohr, you need to… kill to survive, but I didn't want to, I was cowardly and they thought me weak, so… they ditched me, one night."

Wendel remained silent while Beruka looked down at her plate. "… Wendel? Do you think that more people are going to give up on me?"

"No." Said Wendel. "Well… it's complicated. Look, Beruka, in Nohrian society, people just don't care about each other. They just see others as tools to use." She continued. "If you do a good job at one thing, then people will continue to like and keep you around. But if you fail, then they'll try to see if you can still be used before giving up on you. When an object start to get worn down by use or is damaged, you just replace it with another. That's how it works."

Beruka frowned. "You mean we're…"

"Tools." Said Wendel. "The life of an assassin is to be used by others, Beruka. And will I hope that you will prevail, it's not really a life one can casually put behind them. When you'll finally leave the slums, please… just don't keep that life forever, alright? You, you have the talent to gain the money to buy off a quiet life afterwards. Don't remain in that business. It'll eat your soul and your ability to feel compassion for others."

The young girl didn't emote but she did consider her words. Compassion? Well, it was already easier to kill… and she was shocked at that. Was warmth really all she needed to commit a murder? Could she so callously kill people for her sake? That was a question that most of the slums dwellers would answer with a firm "Yes."… But Beruka wished she could be better than that. For emerging from the slums as a ruthless killer would be admitting that the "Nohrian darkness" that infected the slums was too much for her.

But she felt like holding unto that was dishonest. Like she was only telling herself that she was still good, between bouts of murdering people.

"Why are you telling me this? You sound sad, Wendel, are you alright?"

"I'm alright." She said. "But, Beruka, please forgive me for what I'm about to do."

Wendel sighed and pulled out a knife. "W-wait, what are you doing?" Said Beruka, leaping off her bench. "Wendel! You can't be doing this! Please!"

"Beruka, of Nohr. My latest contract requires me to kill you." She explained, her tone flat. "In the name of fairness, acquire a weapon promptly. Fail to do so in the given time limit, and the assassination will begin. You have no choice but to agree, and any attempts at fleeing or attacking me directly will lead to an attack. You have ten seconds."

"Wendel, please, no! You… it's a trick, right? Please, what's happening? Mister Goulet, are you there?!"

The masked woman coldly began to give out numbers, going from ten, to nine, and to eight. Beruka realized that she wasn't kidding: She was going to attack, and her only option was to try and defend herself. The young woman ran to her room and slammed the door open before slamming it shut, in a bid to slow down her foe. She ran for her two main weapons, a pair of small swords, and eyed them briefly before realizing what she was doing. Could she actually kill Wendel? The woman was cold, but she had just started to open up to her, why was she doing this?

Beruka turned around as the door was once again opened, greeting a serious-looking Wendel. She had drawn two swords as well, and her ardent glare calmed for only a few seconds when she glanced at the obviously-terrified young girl in front of her. Could she actually do that? "Beruka. Ready your weapons or else you won't be able to survive."

"But I can't… I can't do that to you!" She answered. "Please!"

Wendel sighed and dashed forward, with such swiftness that the younger assassin barely raised her weapons. Sparks flew as steel met steel, and the masked one performed a athletic leap to get directly behind her opponent, kicking her in the back and sending her flying. Beruka caught herself rather athletically using her hands and, panicked, ran out of the room. A mistake, though, for her opponent was calmer and nearly as agile, allowing her to easily catches up and began slashing.

Finding herself in the kitchen, Beruka had no choice but to turn around in time to once again deflect an assault. To her own surprise, she was keeping up surprisingly well with the barrage of attacks, deflecting the moves thrown at her and spotting, more than once, an opportunity to end the fight. Yes, had it been another opponent, they would surely be laying in a pool of their own blood, with two knives stuck in their chest and a triumphant Beruka standing over them. But her enemy was one that she knew well, and as a result, she almost allowed herself to be grabbed by the collar before being thrown away, into another room. It was the one between the kitchen and Goulet's office, a small red room where he greeted his guests. Right now, though, it was used to settle a contract.

Beruka got up and simply stared up at Wendel, unwilling to hurt her. Wendel, however, very much was, as attested by her kick, delivered with enough force to send Beruka out of the red room and into Goulet's office. The young girl landed on her back but found no respite yet, rolling out of the way of a stomp before getting up again. She couldn't just dodge but… could she kill Wendel?

"It should be simple." Said the woman, slowly getting up from her stomp and taking a proper position. "Why do you hesitate with your attack?"

"I spent the last years living with you! I can't just kill you!"

"You killed the people in the slums."

"But they weren't you! It's… it's hard, but I just can't find it in me to do it! Please, stop!"

Wendel stopped and sighed. "I gave you enough warnings." She said, before attacking. This time, her attack proved swift: Beruka barely blocked one knife and failed to get out of the way of the other in time, being struck in the forehead by a quick horizontal attack that tore a gash into her skin. The tip of the blade dug into her pale flesh, easily slicing through it and creating a deep wound that caused her body to flood with pain. Now pained, on top of being confused, Beruka wailed and held up one hand to her forehead, blood flowing forth from her new wound.

She was seriously trying to kill her! Beruka, upon finally realizing this, decided to throw pretenses under the wind for now, and her defensive instincts overrode whatever reason had stayed her hand for now. Both her and Wendel engaged in a fight was both quick yet short, their blades whirling all around the room. The older assassin had more experience and sheer strength, but Beruka's slight edge in speed and raw talent proved to be a combination that could certainly match it, if not surpass it: With a scream of rage and pain, Beruka managed to slash Wendel in the ribs.

The young elite backed off and then began to run back to the kitchen. Beruka followed her, her gaze unblinking, and didn't wait for her to stop before attacking, aware that adrenaline was all that was keeping her active. The two foes simply resumed their clashing. Blades flew at high-speed, but Wendel was slowly being put on the defensive, foregoing her implacable offense from earlier in favor of an incredible offense. Her opponent was young after all, and would tire out after ineffectively picking at her defense for ten seconds. However, she underestimated just how sharp Beruka's eyes were, and just how deadly a Nohrian could be when pushed into a corner.

The young girl's purple eyes bounced everywhere and she eventually saw flaws in the defense, namely, that wound on her right side: It forced Wendel to lean a little and moving obviously pained her. That, and her left hand seemed to be slightly weaker than her right hand. Deciding to exploit that, Beruka purposely slowed her offense down, as if getting tired. She kept her senses sharp for a sudden offensive from Wendel though, and managed to dodge to the left when a stab came her way. Luckily enough, she had opted to use her dominant hand to try to deliver the killing blow, and left her side unprotected. Being skilled enough to realize this, she tried to move her left hand to block it but Beruka used her own knife to stop her, and then kicked the wound, destabilizing Wendel and causing her to take a few steps backwards. Triumphant, Beruka spun her knives and stabbed her foe in the chest with her remaining strength, only coming out of her pain-induced rage right as her blades tore through the cloth and flesh.

"W-well done." Said Wendel, her blades slipping out of her hands. She fell backward but Beruka caught her beforehand and knelt next to her. "You did it…"

"N-no. You… you held back on me for a while!" She said, struggling to wipe away the blood on her eyes. "Why?"

"It'd be a shame… if you died without using your full potential, I… I had to wound you for it, sorry…"

Beruka merely cradled her dying foe, allowing tears to come out of her eyes. "Why did you attack me?" She asked. "Did Goulet…"

Wendel coughed and nodded slowly. "A test… those before you failed but you succeeded." She struggled to breath. "I'm not a good person, Beruka. I've got a lot of blood on my hands, don't mourn me…" Her hand weakly moved to her mask, and she pulled it off her, and the assassin winced at the numerous scars all over her face. She wasn't exactly disfigured, but it was hard to envision how exactly she looked before she got all those scars.

"Beruka, listen." She grasped the young girl's arm. "I'm not a nice person. No one on Nohr is. Soon as you can… Leave this place, alright? Goulet, the slums, the royal family… This is a cursed place. Just… leave it behind as soon as you can." Beruka didn't answer, and her silence was interpreted as a yes. "I'm sorry. I didn't want to do just leave the dishonorable way, l-listen… O-once you're done… D-do what you want to do but never come back to Nohr." Wendel's eyes began to tear up. "Please…"

"I-I will. I'll explore the world for you…" She promised, squeezing her right hand. Wendel smiled slightly and then laid down. "Farewell, Beruka. And don't let him do to you what he did to… me…."

She breathed her last, and finally passed away. Beruka didn't end up breaking down as she thought she would, though she still cried plenty. Instead, she silently went to close her eyes and then slowly let the realization settle in. True, she was sad about it, but she was also angry. At Goulet, for his cruel "test" that had apparently resulted in the deaths of so many people. At Wendel, for attacking Beruka and forcing the young girl to kill her. And, last of all, at Nohr, for being such a bad place to live in. More than ever, she wanted out.

But she also understood that she couldn't just hold back. She had gotten lucky, and had to deal with someone who actually warned her, but life wouldn't be so fair the next times. If she ever wanted to accomplish her dream, then she would need to abandon what shreds of empathy held her back and accept killing. Eerily enough, the decision was not quite as complicated as she would've very much liked it to be. Having made peace with her inner self, however, didn't do much to suppress the huge bleeding gash on her forehead, or the sound of the door being opened in the hall, along with the chatter of the rabble that dwelled in the slums.

"Goulet's gone." Said one outlaw. "Come on."

"What if he returns though?" Cautiously declared another man, creeping his way into the hallway. The two men had more outlaws to accompany them, but their little conversation stopped when they noticed Beruka, her face bloody, kneeling over a dead Wendel. Most of them looked suitably panicked, but one of them actually kept his calm, briefly widening his eyes before smiling. Clearly, he had seen much of the slums if such a sight couldn't move him. Realizing that there was naught but a corpse and a corpse-in-waiting in the household, the man confidently unsheathed his small sword.

"Heh, see? No Goulet."

Then she heard the sound of a body falling, and then another. And she could barely see the second man in the hall being grabbed in the collar before being yanked away from the hall, though his scream ended very shortly afterwards. Finally, a hand reached out for the hand of the terrified outlaw and casually snapped his neck, bringing his criminal career to a swift end.

When he stumbled upon the dead Wendel, he managed to put a good front of surprise, though he composed himself in time to simply nod. "What happened there, Beruka?" He asked, closing the door and casually stepping over the corpse of his recent victim. "Did Wendel attack you?"

Beruka stood ready to accuse him but she knew that she was not in a condition where she could make him potentially hostile to her. So, she just nodded, and he apparently didn't see fit to question her on that. Instead, he darted to his office and came back with a staff, promptly using it to heal the wound. However, as skilled as he was with a knife or his bare hands, the usage of a staff was apparently complicated enough for him to apply only a minor healing. The flow of blood stopped, and the scar lessened a little, but it was still quite large.

"T-thanks." She said. "H-how did your mission…"

"It doesn't matter. You had a tough night." He said, with some actual warmth in his voice. "I'll take care of the bodies. You should have some rest." And for the tiniest moment, she believed him… but then she remembered that he certainly led Wendel there, and also remembered that she couldn't trust anyone in the slums. Speaking of her, he grabbed her body and hauled her carcass over his shoulder.

"There's some water." He said, pointing at some nearby buckets. "You should clean your face with it." Beruka accepted the order, and watched him leave before turning to a nearby bucket, looking over at her bloodied face in the reflection of the water. She looked at the mess of bloods and tears that stared back at her and chose, on this day, to never let herself succumb to weakness again.

Her face eventually hardened and she completed her ascension by splashing herself with the water.

…

The man's lackeys fells, owing to the sudden presence of a series of sharp weapons over their legs. The bearded man screamed in surprise and tried to back off, but he only found a cold wall to cut off his retreat, though the approaching Goulet ensured that he wouldn't have been able to escape anyway. The bearded man feebly held out a shaking hand.

"No, no! Please, I… I have knowledge! Please, don't kill me, I'll tell you everything I know!"

"Well, that's why we're here, genius." Retorted the assassin, before simply cutting his throat with a swing of his weapon. Chuckling, he stepped aside as his victim's body fell forward and turned around to witness his pupil finish off the remaining mooks. A few years had passed, and Beruka was already closer to how she looked like in the present day: Gone was the remaining naivety of childhood, replaced by the usual uncaring expression that the young woman bore. She hadn't quite switched to a bandana, though it also covered the top of her head. The armor required to ride a wyvern obviously wasn't present yet though, and she simply had a plain, if practical, black outfit.

"Truth can be silenced, it seems." Commented Goulet, wryly. "I'll never get why they send those people here in the first place but, ah well, more work for us."

Beruka quietly nodded, and then Goulet simply waited. Soon enough, two men quietly opened the door leading to the dilapidated building where the assassination had taken place, quietly handing about two bags worth of gold. Beruka and Goulet grabbed each, as a precaution. If they needed to, then they still had one hand each to deal with future attacks on them, and they both had more than enough skills to defend themselves using only one hand. Assassins, after all, were sometimes killed as well to ensure that the secret was truly safe. Luckily, the two men appeared to be unwilling to deal with Goulet, as attested by the way they quickly backed away.

"We may require your service once more." They said. "You will need to wait for a few hours for further details, but the contract that we promise you will ensure that you will be set for life."

"Duly noted." Explained Goulet. The two men quickly backed away, and Goulet and Beruka also left the building, though they did so by the backdoor. Once they were out, they promptly left the dank alley, and after both leaving it to rejoin their house, Goulet finally spoke up.

"Hm, it must be an important contract if they bother to warn us about it." He said, entering his house. Beruka followed suit and closed the door as he discarded his black cloak into a chair, leaving her to directly deal with it. "It's certainly something that will take place at the Nohrian palace, heh."

"Will you allow me to assist you for that mission?" She said. And he shook his head. "It's easier to go alone." He said. "You're skilled enough to make it, I think, but I'd rather do it myself. I know the palace and I know its secrets, like the tunnels." In answer, Beruka nodded. "I might make that my last contract in here too." He said.

"Why?" Asked Beruka, though she didn't sound surprised or even shocked, only raising a blue eyebrow.

"The slums aren't interesting to me anymore." He said. "And the royals in their castle are winding down with the conspiracy and murder. Nohr's getting boring."

"Where will we go next?" She said, and he took the time to think that out. "Somewhere in the south. I'm just looking for another place that needs people like us." He argued. "Nohr has needed us for a while but after forty-seven years in this hellhole, I think I don't need it anymore."

Beruka blinked softly. The idea of leaving Nohr and going somewhere warmer didn't interest her all that much. What bothered her was the idea that she would just be dragged along with Goulet. She knew that no matter the place, as long as he lived, she would never be freed from his shadow. "You always wanted to visit the world too, didn't you? How about I get you somewhere sunny?" He asked, scratching his chin. "I think it's about time I get a tan." He said.

"I never knew you would care about such a thing." She retorted. He shrugged in answer. "I did kill those two merchants at Izumo, didn't I? Their "finest clothes" were akin to rags and I couldn't let such a fashion crime occur. I care very much about looking proper, my dear." He smiled in amusement but she didn't. "Yes, you do enjoy telling me the story at every occasion." Beyond their differing ideas in what count as amusing, she just didn't like his long trips. Having to fend off bold outlaws was always a pain to her, and he was easily gone for weeks at times.

His smile faded a little, which didn't quite scare her as it did back in the day. However, she knew that defiance would cause him to be more alert, and she humbly leaned forward. "Hm, apologies, master, I am only intrigued by the news."

"That's fine." He said, though he grabbed her by the cheeks. The gesture was meant to be intentional, but had he squeezed just a bit harder, he would've probably been able to rip her jaw off. He regained his smile, but made sure to show his teeth. "You'll stay put and you'll prepare our belongings to escape this place." He said, and she simply agreed with a nod. "Hm, I thought you'd be a little happier about leaving the place."

She smiled, but did so rather awkwardly. "I just can't imagine a life out of the city, sir."

"The world outside isn't all that different in our line of work… But enough of that, I'm hungry. Go get us some food." He said. "I'll stand guard. Oh, and don't hang out outside for too long, hm? You could get cold again."

The young assassin got up and fetched her purse from her room. She had been offered Wendel's, which laid at the other end of the hall, but she choose not to use it. She still enjoyed the warmth that came with the fire after all. Reaching for her purse, she tied it to her belt and then put on a black cloak before heading out into the streets once more. Even with her conservative attire and heavy black cloak, the Nohrian cold was still harsh, almost to the point where she felt like she was being struck with a whip to the face. Shrugging that off, she closed the door and headed outside.

Life in the slums had picked back up now that some of the kids had the time to grow up, though now, the Nohrian army was smart enough to directly recruit the kids and promise them a home, food and companionship in exchange of rigorous training and Garon took efforts to try and set up more shops within Windmire, attracting some outlaws. Sometimes, the outlaws tried to go into the slums to recruit as well, or simply to hide from the Nohrian Army, who was still content with allowing the slums to exist (it was, from their point of view, a good way to cull the weak). They sometimes clashed with the other bandits lodged in the slums, who were too stubborn to walk under someone else's banner.

Beruka quietly walked into the streets in time to behold one such fight: Five thugs had emerged victorious in a fight against another gang, and had managed to earn some precious loots out of their arrow-ridden corpses. While prudently pocketing some of them, the thugs then held out some of the prizes, waging them at the crowd. "Come serve yourselves, lads!" Said a bald leader. "It's free!" And just like that, he was almost swarmed by a bunch of desperate people. It was a tactic to earn more people who'd be willing to help the cause, be it by joining the gang or sharing whatever scraps they gained.

The young assassin observed the event for a little moment before leaving, heading towards one of the "Black Gates" leading out of the slums. In her past, she was always intimidated by these gigantic, obsidian-colored gates that lead to the stairs, themselves being a ticket towards the capital. Plenty of people used to gather near them, in an attempt to find a crack to exploit, but with the army deciding to be a bit more present in the slums (though still very lax) by positioning about five soldiers in front of the gates, the gatherings had ceased.

Speaking of the soldiers, they immediately recognized her when she advanced and quietly opened the doors to allow her to advance, to the amazement of nearby Nohrians. Beruka didn't react though, and simply climbed the obsidian stairs leading to Windmire. The soldiers inside opened the massive doors leading out of the slums, and this time, the cold architecture of Nohr's capital city greeted her.

It was very different from the slums aesthetic wise. The buildings looked proper, the streets were clean, no one was outside and one could hear themselves think due to the silence of the streets. Beruka felt like she had entered a different world and even now that the sight of Windmire had become common, she still felt an odd chill down her spine when she glanced at the buildings.

The young girl began to walk down the streets. On her right, there stood the building. On her left, there was a crater, with the slums inside of them. Apparently, the crater was born out of the previous war against the invaders, and was so devastating that it hadn't been filled in the centuries that had passed since then. A few even said that the invaders had somehow infected the place with their dark influence, in an odd manner at explaining just why the place seemed to be so miserable all the time. Beruka scoffed at such rumors: People sure liked to pin their sins on the influence of ghosts, spirits or even dragons.

The slums were quite enormous, though Windmire itself was colossal. A bit over ten kilometers wide going by Goulet. Navigating in such a huge city would be outright nightmarish but she knew who to visit: A lone food shop, somewhere close to the black gate. She had switched shops quite a while, because of a rather obvious reason, that was happening right under her very eyes: Two thugs were robbing the food shop. One of them kept a knife pointed at the shopkeeper's throat, and the other was currently trying to ransack the shop for food.

"Vincent!" Complained one of the thugs in the shop itself. The other thug was in front of it, at the counter, hardly noticing the creeping Beruka. "There's not much meat to steal! This guy has nothing!"

"There is meat!" Corrected the large scarred man. "It's right in front of-" And he bellowed in pain before he could give his line of thought, a tiny tomahawk lodged itself into his skull, killing him instantly. Surprised and terrified, his buddy peeked out, eager to try to confront the murderer, but it made it all the easier for the second thrown axe to impact him in the cheek. He too fell over, and fragile Beruka kneeled over her victims to pick up her weapon.

"Oh, thank you Beruka!" Thanked Bertrand, the shopkeeper. He waged his left arm, the one that didn't get chopped off during a fight (though the identify of the aggressor, be it a Faceless, a Ninja or a rogue Nohrian was still ambiguous). This handicap made it hard for him to fend off thugs that he would very easily beat otherwise, and made it most unwise for him to establish his shop in a area where the thugs were aplenty, but like all Nohrians, he was far too stubborn to move out of his spot. Thus, Beruka didn't bother wasting whatever little sympathy she still had in her for him.

"Enough." She dismissed. "I would need the food."

He grabbed a bag and put the food on it, before handing it to her, along with a tiny bottle that she quickly pocketed.

"Thank you." She grabbed her purse and threw some coins. "You should afford yourself better bodyguards. My timing was very convenient for you."

"Hmph, right." He grunted "… It's not like you're going to stay here for long." Beruka didn't frown, but she almost felt like jabbing him in the face. Goulet, if he was eavesdropping (which he could do given his skills) could likely be made suspicious by that after all. "You sure are lucky that I can get that stuff easily. You buy a lot of it."

"Those are my problems." She said. "Farewell. And take care of the bodies."

"I will." And he smiled, showing off his missing teeth and gesturing at the corpses. "If you come back, I might have more meat in store."

Beruka rolled her eyes to the sky in annoyance and left. Were she more like Goulet, she would've probably killed him for his noisiness, but she wasn't needlessly bloodthirsty like him, or the rest of the thugs down in the slums (or Windmire itself) that he pretended he stood above of. And speaking of those, more were coming up as she made her way back to the black gate. One of them gestured at her, and Beruka stared back. Given their sizes and numbers, things could go bad for her if they dared to attack.

"Hey, look at this girl." Said the leader, eyeing some food. Beruka thought about just giving it up, but was saved when the second-in-command, a heavily scarred me, laid a heavy hand on his boss's shoulder. His gaze indicated he had perhaps already met the master assassin before. Seeing the fear in his buddy's eyes convinced the group to give her a wide berth, and the young girl simply walked past them, glancing at the slums. She could see the dirt roads and the white, shoddily built buildings surrounded by masses and masses of starved people of thugs, all walled off by the white walls, and she wondered just why she was going to head back there when she could just head out of Windmire.

But at the same time, as much as she wished to do that, she knew that she had things keeping her in the slums. The money, for once, and also Goulet's tracking of her if she ever dared to walk away. She didn't fear the Nohrian wilderness or even the idea of tackling a world much bigger than the one she was used to, but alas, she had some business to resolve before she could move on away from the slums, prompting her to begin to take the stairs leading back to the filth and violence below.

For once though, she knew that it may be the last trip. By tomorrow morning, she was out of the slums, one way or another. It was a promise.

…

"Don't throw in so much salt." He chided, from the table. "It gets my mouth dry."

"Very well." Replied Beruka, working her "magic" on the food. There was something oddly amusing in this vision of a deadly man, who had almost crossed half a century, impatiently waiting for a preteen girl to cook his meal. He obviously knew how to feed himself, since he sometimes left the country for a long while for missions, but he apparently just enjoyed having other people make the food for him. Beruka didn't much though. She learned how to make some food for herself when she needed, and it did help her with her current objective, which involved discreetly pouring poison into the meal itself. However, she had poured the venom into a different recipient to avoid drawing attention. Said recipient was being used to add some "taste" to the meat, off-handedly.

Once she was done with cooking, she put the food on a fancy plate and set it along the table, next to the cheese (which he was already nibbling on) before pouring the water into the glasses. Once that was finally done, she settled and began to eat her own food. He also did and nodded enthusiastically.

"You've done well." He said. "If you ever get bored with assassination, you could probably make a restaurant." And Goulet made his usual creepy smile. "You already know how to cut things up after all, don't you?"

"Yes." She answered pointedly, slowly chewing. The ambiance was quiet: The assassin had done well to make his house soundproof, since he apparently didn't want to hear the "dumb chattering" of the hopeless people in the alley. They ate quietly for a little while, though he didn't touch his own glass. Briefly, Beruka yawned and set her eyes towards a part of the room: The one where her brief duel with Wendel met a somber end, and briefly remembered the circumstances. Both were eating, and, in about one minute, one of them was going to lay dying on the floor. And she wasn't sure if she was going to be the last one standing, this time.

She turned around and drank from her glass absent-mindedly, seemingly not noticing that he had started to drink too. They continued to eat, and once his plate was empty, he set his cutlery down.

"You know…" He said. "You're probably my best pupil so far." Continued Goulet. "Wendel was good but she lacked your raw talent… Heh, you've only got one scar so far." He gestured at his forehead. "But she already had quite a few by then." She gave a grunt of acknowledgment. "I really struck gold when I picked you up, didn't I?" The eyebrow he gave indicated that he expected more of an answer, and she eventually nodded. "Yes, you did." He nodded, and sighed before getting up. "It's a shame that you're forcing me to do this."

Beruka raised an eyebrow… and then got struck in the cheek before she could react, being helplessly thrown aside into a corner of the room. Too disoriented to even begin to fight back, her blurry vision vaguely perceived a figure crossing the room before a hand roughly grabbed her collar and lifted her up. She could already feel her cheek getting swollen, but she had admittedly more pressing matters to attend to at the moment, like being at the mercy of a ruthless man. Goulet smirked, twirling a small knife in his hand.

"Aww, Beruka… Did you really think that this would work?" He gestured at the food. "I saw you slipping the poison in the food. Haven't I taught you better than that? It's so obvious!"

He moved his weapon to stab her. "Beside, this particular poison lose its punch if its exposed to too much heat… Ah, dear. I guess you're still just the naïve little girl that I picked up six years ago. What a waste…"

"I did not slip it into the food." She retorted. He opened his eyes and looked up at her in surprise. "I put it in the water that I served. For both of us." She took the measure of precising, aware that he switched while she wasn't "looking". His face grew pale, and not because of the realization. At the same time, so did her own, but at least she didn't fall to his knees. The poison that she gave him was rather violent, but it wasn't enough to kill a man.

Goulet looked up in horror. "You also drank it? H-how are you…" And Beruka simply walked past him, grabbing his knife. "I tasted a little bit of it whenever you were gone." She replied, raising the weapon. He reached out for her but his movements were sluggish enough for her to dodge. She wasn't exactly at her peak either, but she had slowly fed herself drips after drips of poison when he wasn't looking to build up an immunity, just to do this.

Of course, building a immunity is harder than one thinks, as attested by the shaky way she moved and the gradual appearance of sweat on her face. She had to put more dose, since he was bigger than her and would need more of it to be affected. The fact that they both got sick at the same time was a testament to her luck… or just how much poisonous stuff she chose to drink in the name of revenge.

"W-wait!" He feebly managed to stammer out, holding his hand. "W-why are you even doing this? I gave you a roof, warmth, I taught you to read…Y-you're nothing without me! You ungrateful little…"

Beruka considered him coldly as he continued. "I… I have plenty of connections in Nohr, if you… if you kill me, they'll come at you with everything they have!"

The azure-haired girl didn't react to that threat, nor his furious accusation against her. "Did you convince Wendel to try and harm me?"

"Y-yes! As a test!" He said, banking on his honesty somehow earning Beruka's approval. "It was a test to see how strong you were! W-why do you even care?" He realized that this was perhaps not appropriate to say to his potential killer and backed off. "Look, I'll let you have my money, and I'll hide you from my contacts if you let me go. I swear!"

The assassin's pupil glanced down at him and lowered her knife. He smiled slightly and leaned against the table in relief. "I knew you'd make the good choice…" And she carefully studied that expression before raising the knife once more. His relief instantly made way for panic and he fell over while trying to hold her back, as said delivered the last words he'd hear. "Here goes your hope."

"Wait, Beruka, wait!" He said, before being stabbed once, and then again, and again, and again, without stopping. It didn't matter that he probably died long before she was done, or that she slashed at him until the knife was too broken to even stab through his clothing. All that pent-up fury that she had kept in check was unleashed in an instant. She didn't scream though, or even change her facial emotions ever so slightly: It was all focused in her repeated stabbing, with her expression otherwise remaining neutral. Only the influence of the poison, or her own exhaustion (perhaps both) eventually got her to stop, and she dropped the broken knife before crawling backwards, observing the mangled body of one of Nohr's most dreaded men.

She had long since gotten used to her profession and deeds, but the sight of what she did convinced her, somehow, that there was no normal life for her outside. No matter how far her legs took her, be it in another country or even another continent, she knew that she would never really get rid of that stain on herself. She had been a killer far too long to just flee and pretend that she could live a normal life…

However, this didn't deter her from crawling away to his desk, to try to get his money. Her freedom was in sight. But as she tried to move on, she realized, to her horror, that she underestimated the plight of the poison, or just how limited her own stamina was because of it. Moving her body required her to deploy a herculean amount of effort, akin to lifting a mountain, and the mere act of laying down proved to be exhausting. And she found no dredge or inner fire to rely on. Beruka simply fell, a few feet from the remains of her latest victim, still desperately trying to crawl across the kitchen.

The Nohrian fell unconscious…

…

And the sooth light of a staff brought her back to consciousness, though two large hands thankfully helped the process by lifting her off the floor to better slam her straight into the wall! Beruka yelped awake and instinctively reached out to try to grab her opponent's face, but his arms were unfortunately a bit too long for that. Her blurred vision cleared to show her the snarling face of a scarred thug. Another man stood near him, poking at Goulet's corpse curiously. Lastly, there was a woman, with a staff in hand. She wasn't dressed elegantly, but she was far too clean to be a Slum-dweller. She wore a heavy black cloak, and put down a massive hood apparently meant to hide her face.

"You." She questioned, in a commanding manner. "Are you his pupil?"

"… Not anymore." Answered Beruka, and the thug ensured that no more sarcasm would come out of her throat by squeezing it harder, though a gesture from the woman made him back down. He still kept the young girl at hand though, having deduced, from the way her face was just covered in blood, that it might not be wise to give her freedom of movement. His grasp was tight enough that the noble approached Beruka and softly grabbed her jaw with her hands. Beruka glanced at her nails, long and sharp enough to take an eye if the woman wanted to.

"Well, I don't know how you killed him." She said. "But that complicates my plan. Say, dear, would you like to work for me?"

Beruka's eyes widened. Work for them? This only bolstered her tentative at freeing herself, but the large man's grip was too much for her to overcome. Why would she be thrown back into that life when freedom was this close? The injustice of the situation didn't sit well with the assassin, and she desperately moved her head to the sides. The woman's eyes widened slightly and she took a few steps backward, bringing her hand to her mouth and making an over-the-top expression of shock.

"Oh my." She declared. "You don't want to? Alright. Let her go." The thug was too loyal to question her, and dropped Beruka. The little girl scrambled to her feet in a manic manner and leapt to a corner of the room, her eyes wide and her respiration quick. She looked like a scared animal, which prompted the noblewoman to laugh a little.

"You can leave." She said. "But the word will be out on Goulet's death." Beruka seemed unintimidated and the woman bent forward. "There's plenty of blood on his hand, and some of it is royal. He was useful and, perhaps, skilled enough to avoid the consequences but now that he's dead." She pointed at the corpse. "There's a lot of people who will be eager to take their revenge on you, his heir, his legacy."

"I'm not his…"

"Try explaining that to them." She interrupted, growing angrier with the second. "This scumbag took my son! And I'm not the only noble who lost something precious to him. You won't escape the manhunt, and my influence reach far beyond that cesspool."

Beruka frowned. "Then why were you about to hire him?"

"He was useful, and I had… plans afterwards. Regardless, you will carry out his task." She pointed rather imperiously. "You will kill Josephine's accursed daughter, and if you manage to do that, then you'll be allowed to leave Windmire, provided you never return to it nor mention the contract."

Beruka's hands shook in rage, but she calmed down… True, this was her first foray into assassinating a royal, but with what was at stake, she'd attack King Garon if she was ordered to. Of course, it's likely that the woman was lying, since she had a grudge on

Goulet and admitted to having plans, but she didn't care. Nothing really mattered, be it the death of a man she knew for six years or the petty manipulations of those in charge, next to her idea of finally making it out of Windmire and the slums.

"I will do it."

…

She hadn't even been cleaned of the blood before they carried her in a tunnel within the castle. They had been dug over the centuries. They were originally meant to allow the royal family to escape should the castle be attacked, but more tunnels had been built, though many of those had also been closed to prevent the threat of an assassin, who tended to dig them to easily move around the castle.

Beruka had been put in one of those, right underneath the room of a Nohrian princess. She was supposed to emerge in another room and make her way to the princess from it, but she figured out that the guards would see her. So, she directly chose to carve herself a new exit directly from underneath the royal's room, relying on a drawing of the tunnel to do so.

She didn't really know how long it took her. She had to spend many hours in the dark, aware that the noise would otherwise be heard, before she started to dig up. Days may have passed, or maybe even weeks. It didn't really matter to her. She simply waited, and contemplated her imminent freedom, or dug. Looking back, Beruka didn't dwell much on Goulet's death in spite of his impact on her life. He was dead, and that was it. She had expected to feel triumph, or relief, or would find sadness perhaps, but there was nothing. She could've killed anyone else, and she would've felt the same emotion.

It was worrying, somehow, but she didn't care. All that mattered was killing the princess. She was so focused on her objective, in fact, that the matter of Goulet's death vanished from her mind. Her goal, and those words he spoke so many years ago, was all that came to mind. Her numbed arms eventually tore into wood, and she emerged out of the darkness of the tunnel into the darkness of… what seemed to be a closet? There was no sound outside, besides heavy snoring.

Her heart was pounding (loudly enough to wake up the princess) and she slowly exited the closet before making her way over to the bed where the royal stood. Emotionlessly, Beruka raised her second knife (the first one was too blunt at this point)… but stopped when her eyes attuned to the darkness: Her bloodshot eyes had noticed that the princess was very much active, and was, in fact, looking straight at her. The vision of a blood-soaked, outright crazed assassin didn't seem to faze her much. In fact, there was some kind of habit in the single uncovered eye she could see.

"You don't want to do this."

Beruka did, and her defeat was swift : After a single stab, which missed rather wildly, the princess dodged and kicked her across the room. Before she could even consider a counter-offense, the purple-haired royal leapt across the room and landed on top of her, with enough force to nearly knock out the assassin. Her knife was now in her target's hand, which was a worst case scenario, and she felt its cold kiss on her neck.

Guards burst in, Beruka was too weak to fight, and the princess had defeated her with utter ease. Silently, she realized that freedom was out of sight, and having that taken away from her, after she worked so hard to dispose of Goulet, got to her. Emotionlessly, Beruka leant her head back, staring into the ceiling.

"I can't return until you're dead, I can't return until you're dead, I… I can't return until you're dead, I…"

The princess leaned back in surprise, frowned and, with what amounted to a gentle tap, knocked Beruka unconscious.

…

She wasn't surprised to awaken in a prison cell, dimly illuminated by a nearby torch.

Beruka groaned and got up, glancing at her surroundings. She was stuck in a cold, dirty cell, located at the bowels of the castle apparently. Sighing sadly, the assassin crawled into a wall and hugged her knees in defeat. Her dreams of freedom had been utterly quashed, and she was confident that Nohr would dispose of her soon enough.

There was a sentiment of total defeat that made her sick. Were it not for that woman, she would be far by now after all. She would be… freed, not stuck in a underground prison. Fate had a cruel way to mess with her, or so it seemed.

When she heard the sound of footsteps approaching, Beruka didn't even bother to raise her eyes.

"Hey." Said a voice, which she recognized. The shock of hearing it here caused the young girl to glance upward to notice that the princess that she tried to assassinate was standing in front of her cell. She was dressed in a rather intimidating suit of armor for her size, and looked rather tall for a mere teenager. Part of her long purple hair covered her face, and she had a casual look on her face, glancing down at Beruka as if they were old friends reuniting, and not a target and her would-be murderer.

The princess smiled a little. "I'm Camilla." She said, grasping the bars. "Do you wanna be my friend?"

…

A/N: Hey, it's Camilla! Anyway, huh, I lied a little about the length of Beruka's flashback, but it will certainly be done before the next chapter is over. We will definitely get back at the main story by then.

I would've made it longer, to further explore Wendel and Goulet, but I didn't want to cause too much pacing issues. That's rather unfortunate but I could always try to re-visit them later, if you guys liked the flashback enough to see more of Beruka's childhood.

We're getting to the last part of it! How much did you guys like this chapter? Don't forget to leave reviews, they help a lot!

See ya around, and wash your hands!