By Viola Ophiuchus
Summary: Jaffar is assumed to be emotionless, and loyal to the Black Fangs. But when a girl with a bittersweet life enters his own, his mind and heart slowly changes, and the scars he owned were not only healed, but deepened as well.
Disclaimer: I do not own Fire Emblem, nor its characters. I do not own Leonard Cohen's quotes.
Children show scars like medals. Lovers use them as secrets to reveal. A scar is what happens when the word is made flesh.
-Leonard Cohen
Jaffar gritted his teeth, grasping his right arm. The assassin that day had not gone according to plan, or rather, his "perfect" assassination. Furthermore, it was annoying since he kept on asking himself what a perfect assassination was. Sonia kept on demanding more and more of his services, each mission being difficult than the one before.
He had killed knights, mages, swordsmen, pirates, mercenaries, and other assassins. Even the most valiant of the men had fallen before his crimson eyes. Jaffar had grown accustomed to the killing, and each death became less and less meaningful in his life.
He noticed drops of blood running down from his arm. Jaffar swore under his breath, desperately retying a ripped piece of his cape around his wound. One of the target's friends had stabbed him with his dagger anointed with white powder, most likely a dried form of a neurotoxin. He was already feeling the effects of the poison: his right arm was getting numb by the minute.
The target was a man in the name of Myzerh Bain. He was formally a member of the Black Fang, however, had committed treason, and ran away to form a secret organization that opposed the Black Fang. Sonia was obviously displeased about Myzerh, and had sent Jaffar to finish off the man. However, Sonia had failed to inform him many things.
Firstly, she had never informed him that there was a rainstorm to come when he arrived in the small town of Kulios. Myzerh was apparently not fond of rain, for Jaffar had to wait nearly a week until he appeared in the motel which was to be the place of the kill. Secondly, Sonia didn't inform him that Myzerh had at least ten other men with him in the motel. Jaffar had been trained in the past to expect the unexpected, yet when the ten men were all high-class knights, even he had a hard fight to put up with.
Lastly, Myzerh didn't have the copy of a book that Sonia had wished for. It was apparently an important book, in which Sonia had desired above anything else. What it was, Jaffar himself did not know, for she had refused to say anything about it, yet kept on reminding him to retrieve it, for it was in the wrong hands.
Jaffar spent at least two hours searching the room with eleven corpses. He searched from Myzerh's pockets to the trunk under the bed, yet there was no book. He had spent two grueling hours looking for the book, ignoring the throbbing pain in his right arm. Assassins were supposed to kill people, not look for books. It was clearly stated in the dictionaries that an assassin is one that murders by surprise.
Jaffar shook his head, feeling lightheaded. He wasn't supposed to pass out, even if it was in the middle of the night, where the town of Kulios was fast asleep. There were to be too many sacrifices made if he were to be caught.
The pain had not been a great factor; Jaffar was used to pain. He had a high pain tolerance that surprised even his master. However, even the greatest of the men fell when they lost enough blood, and Jaffar felt that he was about to fall when he took a glance at his arm.
He had quickly dressed the wound with a piece of his cape, yet it quickly soaked the cloth, and proceeded to bleed even more profusely. Jaffar had gotten hurt in assassinations before, and had come face to face with Death a couple of times, yet never in his entire life did he feel that he was about to die. Today, he did.
Dragging his heavier-than-usual body, he managed to find a small alley between the few buildings of Kulios. Slumping onto the ground almost immediately from exhaustion, Jaffar sighed, looking up at the pitch-black sky. He counted a few stars, traced a few constellations, and felt his eyes closing. Sleep was trying to overcome him, yet he wasn't about to give in lightly.
Jaffar had never been much of a heavy sleeper. He wasn't allowed to, in the first place. Assassins were supposed to be alert at all times, even at times of sleep. Even before his training, Jaffar had been a light sleeper. Which was probably why he had the potential to be an assassin.
However, this time, he felt like he was about to lose a battle. Closing his tired eyes, Jaffar slowly drifted off into a slumber, one he hadn't had in a long, long time.
Jaffar groaned, shaking his head as he woke up. There must have been a rainfall during his sleep, for his scarlet hair and his rather dusty clothing were soaked. There were even small drops of rain falling down for the sky, damping his already wet hair. He growled in annoyance, running a hand through his hair. Jaffar had nothing against the rain, but now he vaguely understood why Myzerh Bain hated the rain.
Myzerh had explained to him why he hated the rain. "'Tis not fair for the ones who desperately try to hang on life, with so many hardships in the past. Those like us deserve to be pitied by the others, and most especially by the world. But the world instead cries in self-pity."
Jaffar wondered how the world could cry when it had so much. He being the so-called emotionless Angel of Death, it wasn't possible for him to understand. Was the world sad? Was it angry? What was it that fueled the world to cry?
Before Jaffar slashed Myzerh's open heart with his killing blades, Myzerh smiled at him insanely, repeating over and over that he was the Angel of Death. Even the emotionless Jaffar had gotten annoyed, and killed him within seconds. So even he wasn't completely emotionless.
He smirked, carefully lifting his right arm to inspect. The numbness had yielded, and he felt much better than the night before. The deep gash was still present in his arm, yet the bleeding had stopped, and all Jaffar had was a useless right arm caked with dry blood. Jaffar had been stabbed, sliced, and slashed before, yet this wound was one of the first wounds that had really hurt.
Killing people had made him immune to the bloodshed and a little bit of the pain when he received wounds. Yet the wound hurt this time, probably because the dagger was dug deep into his flesh. Jaffar had a hard time trying to pull the dagger out of his skin.
Sighing, he retied the cloth around his arm and pulled out a map from his pouch. It was a map of the entire country that Sonia had given him prior to his trip, and he carefully studied the map.
Kulios wasn't exactly too far from the Water Temple, where Sonia expected him. He had gotten to Kulios by walking, yet he knew that he wouldn't be able to walk the distance with his weak state. Jaffar decided to steal a horse from a nearby barn to make his return.
Hobbling slightly, Jaffar carefully made his way to the barn. Crinkling his nose from the stench of the animals, he chose randomly a horse that appeared swift. It was a large black stallion, standing more than sixteen hands high, with a bushy mane. A nametag between his stall read "Angel of Death", and Jaffar's mouth curved into a smirk as he lead the horse out of the stall.
Putting the saddle and bridle on the horse, he quickly mounted the horse and kicked him to start a fast gallop. Indeed, Angel of Death was a fast horse. Jaffar calculated quickly that in the rate Angel of Death was galloping in, he would reach the Water Temple in less than half a day.
"...Your name...is the Angel of Death?" he whispered to the ebon horse. The horse, of course, could not understand, but Jaffar continued to talk. He never talked much, perhaps he was in a delirium to be talking to a horse. "That...is my name...as well..."
Angel of Death continued to gallop at a steady pace, and Jaffar stared at the scenery around him, changing swiftly. They had entered a small desert on their way to the Water Temple, and Jaffar reminisced about the days where he spent in the desert. The scenery changed very faintly now, and the wind was getting dustier by the second.
He had trained in the desert after entering the Black Fang. Jaffar remembered that the first things he was given from his master was the gray facemask to hide his face, and two blades to be used to kill people. He was angry at how he had to hide his face while killing people. Young Jaffar was ignorant to the consequences assassins had to face when caught at that time. He knew much about the world, yet didn't want to be like a low member of a wolf pack with its tail behind its feet.
So the young Jaffar, with his newly received killing blades, had cut open the facemask to reveal his face. His master didn't say anything, and Jaffar was pleased with how his mask revealed his face, yet nonetheless kept his messy scarlet hair out of his eyes. It proved useful while assassinating people.
His master also gave him a long brown cape to wear. It was made out of thick material, able to block out both the sun's harsh rays, and the winter's snow. Jaffar still had the cape and the facemask. They were things that made him remember his master, who he had killed only a few years ago.
Pulling on the reins of the horse, Jaffar abruptly stopped the horse in the town of Armatole, which was the town halfway to the Water Temple. Armatole was a town known for its clean, fresh water, which Jaffar had to agree that both he and the horse needed.
Jaffar walked over to a fountain which appeared to be the main source of water in the town. Using his hands to scoop up the water, he drank with a great force, forgetting the trainings of an assassin to be alert at all times. He hadn't drunk water since yesterday's assassinations took place.
Taking a glance, he noticed that the horse was drinking the water greedily as well. Angel of Death had slobbered all over the fountain, made of marble, and Jaffar sighed as he pulled the horse away from the supply of water. The water, which had been completely transparent before they had arrived, had horse saliva mixed in with it.
Jaffar shielded his eyes as he took a glance at the sun. Judging by the position of the sun, Jaffar estimated that it was about noon, and that it would take another five hours to reach the Water Temple. Before mounting the horse, Jaffar filled his canteen with the water and splashed some on his wound. Grimacing slightly at the pain, he mounted Angel of Death and started his journey once more.
"Sonia, please stop pacing," Brendan Reed sighed, putting his book down. "You've been doing it all day."
Sonia, whose usually tidy black hair, was all over the place, the outcome of her not taking the time to brush it. Her usual revealing attire sat forgotten in her room, and instead she wore a plain black nightdress. Dark eyes were wide open with anger as she paced back and forth, giving her husband a glare that could kill.
"Jaffar's late! He's never been late!" she yelled in a shrill voice, throwing her goblet down onto the marble floor of the Water Temple. The rich wine that filled the goblet spilled onto the cold, white floor, and seeped into a small crack.
"He's probably late because of the rainstorm, dear. No need to worry." Brendan desperately tried to calm down his erratic wife, who continued to pace. He lazily drank from his goblet, savoring the taste of the wine from Bern.
"No need to worry?! What are you thinking?!" she shrieked, throwing a slipper at him. It barely missed Brendan's face, and he shuddered in fear. "That stupid book has everything, Brendan! Everything! If she were to find out, what will we do?!"
"She can't read, remember? She'll just think it's one of your spell books," Brendan suggested, paying attention more to his book than to his wife's temper. He was used to her sudden outbursts, especially when she couldn't have something that she wanted.
"What if she gets someone to read it for her? Like her step-brothers?" Sonia snarled, emphasizing the word "step".
"I'll tell Linus and Lloyd about the book tonight, dear," Brendan replied. He smiled at his wife, who seemed to be calming down.
"Tell the brothers now, love. You know they say that the early bird gets the worm," Sonia smiled, twirling a lock of her black hair. "Jaffar will come home anytime soon, and I can't risk him telling Nino about the book."
Brendan held his hands up high, his voice getting louder. "Jaffar never speaks! He's always brooding, sulking, and killing!" he shouted angrily, throwing his book onto the floor. "All he's good for is assassinating people!"
"It's your fault you couldn't find a better assassin that Jaffar," Sonia pointed out. "Anyway, he's good at his job, and that's all we need for the Black Fang."
"I don't like him...who knows, maybe he's after the position of the Four Fangs."
"Give it to him. He deserves it, after all the countless lives he's taken," Sonia laughed, walking over to Brendan, putting her pale arm on his thigh. "He's just a ruthless murderer, nothing more. Besides, he's just a replaceable mortal. We can dispose of him when we feel he's a threat."
"When he's a threat, I'll have Linus and Lloyd hack his head off." Brendan insisted confidently, putting his hand over hers. "My sons can do it in less than five minutes, I assure you."
"I know, I know," Sonia replied, somewhat disgusted with Brendan's confidence. She never liked the Reed Brothers as much as she liked Jaffar. She had only married Brendan Reed to control his strings from the shadow. Although a strong man, Brendan lacked the intelligence and leadership, and Sonia was easily able to control his every moves.
Sonia was about to ask Brendan to let someone finish Uhai off in the Dread Isle, so that he would never come back to the Water Temple. Uhai was a nuisance: he only took orders from Brendan Reed, and him alone. His loyalty never faltered towards her master, and it was what annoyed Sonia. However, her request was cut off short when a woman of short blue hair entered the chamber.
"Ma'am, I have received word from the messenger that Jaffar will be arriving shortly. He has had some trouble in his assassin due to the unexpected rainfall the past week," the woman announced, bowing low. Sonia beckoned for her to come forward, which she did.
The woman had short blue hair, cropped short in the back. Her tan cloak swayed as she walked towards Sonia, her brown boots making a loud tapping sound against the marble floor. Sonia generally didn't like beautiful women. It made her think that she needed to become even more beautiful in order to surpass them. Yet this woman, dubbed Ursula, was a beautiful woman. It was probably because she had a tarnished heart that was used only to please Sonia.
"Ah, Ursula, good work," Sonia said, pleased. The book would be arriving in her hands soon, and she could erase the ugly thing from her perfect organization. "Tell him to come straight to the Temple after he arrives. Make sure no one gets in the way," she instructed, dismissing Ursula with a wave of her hand.
"Yes, ma'am. Your word is my command," Ursula bowed again before leaving the room, filling the spacious chamber with the smell of lilies.
Turning around to face her husband, Sonia smiled. "Ursula is a fine woman, don't you think? She has mastered magic, and is quite intelligent. Very loyal, I must say. And quite cunning. Why, I believe she has all the qualities needed to become one of the Four Fangs along with your sons, don't you think?"
"Indeed," was all Brendan said. The wine from Bern was strong, and had made him feel quite woozy.
"When Uhai falls, you won't mind if I promote Ursula, would you?" Sonia hinted, hoping for her husband's approval. Brendan wasn't strong against alcohol, and all she needed was to instruct one of her maids to bring the strongest wine in the country.
"Of course, love."
Sonia laughed inside, amused at how easily she could control her husband. He was nothing but a fool, and one day, she would be able to control the Black Fang by herself, along with Master Nergal.
One day, the day would come, and all she needed was to destroy the book that Jaffar would bring her.
"Damn it, stupid horse. Run faster."
Jaffar mentally cursed Angel of Death as he kicked the horse to increase his speed. The horse's pace had gotten slower when they left the city of Armatole, and the last thing he needed was to be another day late for his assignment. He never failed, yet this mission was coming close to become a failure.
The heat wasn't so bad, although he had a hard time breathing. The cool water from Armatole seemed unreal, and that was the reason why the horse wouldn't gallop as fast as he did in the city of Kulios.
"Horse, run faster," Jaffar commanded, feeling stupid for commanding a horse. He was getting annoyed at how the horse was galloping slower, and he felt that even he could run faster.
Angel of Death neighed in what sounded like anger, and Jaffar's scarlet eyes widened as the horse began bucking. Desperately holding onto the reins to prevent himself from falling off the tall horse, Jaffar swore mentally.
"Stupid, stupid horse!"
Wincing at the pain of his right arm, Jaffar held onto the reins only with his left arm, which was hard, since Angel of Death was a stronger stallion than Jaffar had anticipated. He had some experience in horseback riding, although his skill was not comparable to those of the nomads. He had learned how to ride horses naturally, which was one of the fastest transportation methods while moving from town to town.
"Stop bucking!" Jaffar shouted, his voice ever so scratchy. He hadn't shouted in a long time. However, Jaffar felt stupid once again. Horses wouldn't understand him, would they?
Angel of Death started bucking even wilder, leaving Jaffar no choice but to hold onto the reins with both hands. Ignoring the swelling pain in his arm, he held onto the leather reins. He mused to himself that it proved to be a good idea to wear his gloves for this mission, since his gloves prevented the leather reins from cutting into his hands.
Jaffar's eyes widened in horror as his right arm started bleeding once again, due to the pressure. It hurt, and the stupid horse continued to buck him. "Dammit, horse, stop it!" he cried, flinging his canteen at the horse. The force opened the lid of the canteen and spilled the water over Angel of Death's face, and the horse stopped bucking and drank the spilled water with pleasure.
"Stupid horse...I should've taken the horse next to your stall..." Jaffar whispered, grasping his right arm. The bleeding wasn't profuse as yesterday, but it still hurt. Drops of blood fell onto the saddle and onto the road, leaving a stain. He ripped another piece of his cloak and tied his wound, which already had several layers of cloth bandaging it.
Angel of Death had an apologetic look on his face as he started to trot once again, somewhat happier since he had the water to replenish himself.
"If I had known that you wanted water, I'd given it to you a long time ago, horse."
Jaffar thought silently as he maneuvered the horse with only his left hand. Taking a quick glance at the sun, he estimated that three hours had gone by since they left the city of Armatole. In just a few hours, they would reach the Water Temple, and he would be able to get a good night's rest which he hadn't had in a long while.
"Just a few more hours..."
A/N: How'd you like the first chapter of A Deepened Scar? It's going to be a JaffarxNino story, although it's mostly Jaffar centered. I hope that it would be around 20 chapters, and it's a story set before the Fire Emblem game starts. So there won't be Eliwood, Lyn, and the rest of the part in this story. I hope to update this story soon, since I had a really great time writing this story. Stay tuned for the upcoming chapters! xD