Chapter 1: The Stranger

A shadow stands in an empty clearing, so many warriors have fallen this day.  Blood and mud lick her boots; her hair is a dishevelled mass caked in mud, sweat and death.  Her armour is stained red; her sword is still warm from the blood it had spilt.  She is an odd creature-too dark to be human, too fair to be a demon.

Her family's heritage is none like any other; her mother and father were both half bloods.  Her mother was part veela part nymph, her father-part elf, and part wizard.  The result of this unusual pairing was an even more unusual child.  Lessien has magic running through her veins.  Although her parents were both from creatures of the light she was dark (in both appearance and nature).  Her hair was like the night, shadowy and long.  Her skin was pale and luminous.  She was tall and slender-beautiful to look at but there was something about her turquoise eyes.  They were so somber-full of sadness and loss. 

She wipes her sword on her cloak and returns it to its sheath.  The wind changes and suddenly Lessien's senses are bombarded with a vaguely familiar scent and sound.  Someone or something approaches quickly.  She draws her sword and faces the source of the disturbances.  She fears neither death nor torture-she would rather die like a warrior and fall on the battlefield then alone with all the luxuries in the world.  Suddenly, the line of trees breaks, a man on horseback emerges.  His hair is long, golden and flowing.  His skin is like alabaster, his eyes an icy blue.  Despite his beauty, she remains guarded.  She can trust no one.  Trust is what made her who she was-or rather the lack of.

"You there!  Have you seen a maiden of Atlantis?" 

"Nay, there are no women to be found on the battle field."

"But you are here; are you not a shield maiden of Atlantis? Could there not be another?"

"No, I am no shield maiden.  I am merely an assassin.  And had there been a maiden in this glade she would have fallen like the others."

"Tell me, what business does an assassin have in a war against the Dark Lord?"  He stares back at her, his hand slowly trailing down to his sword-unsure if she is a friend or a foe. 

"My business is my own.  I tire of this…" Lessien whistles long and hard, summoning her loyal steed to her side.  And like the shadow of night blanketing the land, a magnificent black mare emerges seemingly from thin air.  Lessien strokes Shadow Bane's muzzle and whispers, "We have survived another battle, Elle er".  Lessien runs her hand along Shadow Bane to check for injuries she might have sustained during battle.  Suddenly the mare flinches; Lessien's hand is sticky with the blood.  Shadow Bane had a wound on her shoulder.

"Assassin!  I'm not done with you!"

"Oh, but I am very done with you…" Lessien takes Shadow Bane's bridle and begins to guide her to a stream.  She cannot lose Shadow Bane; she is all she has left.

"Don't turn your back on me!" and with that he charges at her, sword drawn.  He was ready to use any means possible to prevent her from leaving-at least until he was positive she was not an enemy. Lessien hears the sound of his sword grazing it's sheath, and draws a dagger.  Years of battle were evident in her movements.  Lithe like a cat, her accuracy was none like any seen by mortals-gifts from her elven heritage.  He was struck down; the pain of the dagger seared his shoulder.  He had been dismounted and pinned to the ground.  He reached over to try and remove the blade but the pain was too great.  Lessien continued to walk towards the stream, unfazed but what she had just done. 

Shadow Banes injury is not fatal and as she sleeps, Lessien returns to her prey.  He is still there, unconscious, still pinned to the ground.  She drops to her knees and wraps her nimble fingers around the dagger's handle and with a fluid motion, pulls it out.

 "It would be a shame to lose this on account of you."  She looked her dagger with the fondness a child would have for a toy.  Its poisoned tip had saved her many a time-it was her favorite way to finish off her victims.  Years as a hired hand had allowed her to concoct a poison most deadly.  As she is about to leave, she is suddenly struck with a pang of pity or was it guilt?  In either case, it was a very unusual feeling for her.  His horse still stands by him.  Strange.  An animal, which is supposedly not our equal, far excides in loyalty then even the greatest of mankind.  She steadies the horse and pulls him onto the beast.

"Why am I helping this wretch?"

Because he is hurt.  Because you hurt him.

"I had no choice he drew his sword; he was ready to strike me down."

Was he?

Lessien drowns out the chattering of her mind with the crackling of the fire.  She lowers the man onto the ground, handling him as if he were made of glass.  His wound was not severe but it would need tending to.  She applies a concoction of herbs to the wound in the hopes that it will draw out the poison. The stranger opens his eyes weakly, feebly trying to focus on her face.

"Why did you come back for me?" His voice is tired and strained.

"These woods are not safe for the wounded; there are beasts here that feast on the injured…"

"But you could have left me to my fate; why didn't you?"

His words wash over her; she does not respond.  And slowly the stranger's vision of his Shiva fades out of view and he is plunged, yet again into darkness. 

Days pass, one blurring into the next and night begins to fall.  Lessien starts a fire and prepares for a long night; she must stand guard.  If she should falter, any number of creatures could swoop down on their meagre camp and end it all.  The stranger stirs.

"What is your name, Assassin?"  Through the pass few days, he had regained much of his colour and strength-not to mention his boldness.

"I have no name…"

"Come now, you must have a name."

"Not one I should like to have on your lips."

"I can't go around calling you 'Assassin'-much too long.  I could shorten it, and simply call you 'Ass'?"

"You could, but you would be dead before those words should fall on any ears!"

"Then what shall I call you?"

"Call me Lessien…although I prefer that you do not speak to me at all."

" 'Lessien' it is!  Draco Malfoy.  A pleasure I'm sure."

"Malfoy…I see…" Her words just grazing her lips before disappearing into the silence of the night.