It did not take Jaffar any time to figure out who the man in the front was. A familiar amused voice echoed through open space.

"Sulking are we Jaffar?" it said in a voice of mock surprise, every syllable overflowing with provocation.

Jaffar paid no heed.

"Oh dear, did I upset you? Did I break your dear doll?" Jaffar could almost hear Sceleris sneer. Jaffar's insides began to pace slowly.

Sceleris could not see the slight change in Jaffar so he continued.

"How typical, you let a wild dog into your home and it simply makes and mess and takes what it pleases."

The beast within Jaffar stopped pacing for a moment. Sceleris had already left by the time Jaffar had been brought into the Black Fang, how did he know about Jaffar fleeing with Nino, yet how could his have been referring to anything else? The assassin suddenly began to doubt that Sceleris was only after his head for the bounty.

"What do you know of the black fang?" Jaffar asked roughly.

"More than you might think. I know that you became Nergal's little eye-dog, running around within the black fang, keeping an eye on everything. It was all fine until that wench caught your eye."

The hooded figure shook his head slowly, tutting

"I told Nergal that it was a mistake, I would never have been sidetracked like that. Oh?" he had obviously seen Jaffar's look of surprise, "You didn't know? Who do you think Nergal had before you? Do you truly think that that insane man could have handled himself without his morphs? His power wasn't great enough before them, but he had me. In exchange he continued his work on my body, perfecting it, working on the already impressive slate that life had given me."

Jaffar had to know.

"Why are you trying to kill me?"

Sceleris laughed dryly, "You're right to wonder. The bounty on your head isn't nearly as valuable as the prize that I would receive from destroying you"

He spat in the ground before going on.

"When you and your 'friends' destroyed Nergal, you destroyed the only living man who could give me perfection. If he had been alive, I would be a God! No man could have challenged me! But no" he flicked the black hood off of his head, amber eyes glared at Jaffar eerily through the semi-darkness. "No, you destroyed him. I had given up my life for the chance of perfection only to have it stolen by the likes of you. Unworthy as you are, it is right for me to sate my craving for vengeance."

Sceleris smiled, his teeth gleaming like a panther who will give his victim a cheery grin before diving for its throat.

"But I also wish to satisfy my curiosity. I was replaced by you. But I am as close to becoming the God of archery as anyone will ever be, so why? I asked myself, why were your services favoured over mine? Could it be that the old man was afraid of me? Or could it possibly be that this "Angel of Death" had in fact surpassed my own skills? I shall find out tonight I think"

The smile grew wider whilst his eyes gleamed brighter. He raised a gloved hand and motioned with his fingers. The ten other men came forward, Deimos at the front.

Jaffar scanned the hooded faces; they looked like the usual lot that Sceleris would bring in to form a protective lining of flesh between himself and Jaffar.

"The joy of the hunt is over" Sceleris said, pulling out his bow and stringing an arrow, "It ends now"

As it had so many times before, the battle began with the whistle of an arrow as it sliced the air. The anonymous bounty hunters leapt at Jaffar, blades flashing back and forth. Two fell within seconds, the more skilled lasting only slightly longer.

Blades clanged, arrows whistled, strangled cries echoed out into the night as the fight raged, clouds of dust rising as many pairs of boots danced across the ground to a violent melody.

Soon, there were only four left living in the room, Jaffar, Sceleris, Deimos and one more anonymous hunter. Jaffar felt as though his very being was on fire, a strange flame threatening to leap from within him, revenge was close, so close. But as he turned, he froze as he saw Deimos raise a thick book. It seemed that Sceleiris's henchman had more skills then Jaffar had given them credit for.

Jaffar was near unstoppable in one-to-one battle. Magic was different, it was harder to avoid and when it did hit…

Almost as Jaffar thought this, a whirlwind of ice blew up about him, icicles cutting as it passed. The freezing cold froze the sweat on his skin while the speed of the wind sucked the oxygen from the air, suffocating him. Jaffar crouched down, gasping, the ends of his limbs going numb with cold. He didn't know what to do, what could daggers to against magic?

But the rush of the wind in his ears slowed, then stopped. The temperature returned to normal and Jaffar breathed deeply, oxygen and warmth rushing to his lungs. He put his hands out in front of him to stop himself from falling and looked to Deimos, the caster.

The man lay on the ground, eyes wide and staring. Behind him stood the final bounty hunter, but it wasn't a bounty hunter. Hood down, Jaffar saw light brown hair and eyes, along with the flash of a grin.

Matthew.

Jaffar almost sighed in relief. He looked more closely at the Ostian assassin. The six years since the battle with Nergal had been hard for him. Without the direction or the danger of the quest, Matthew's mind had been left to dwell on his loss. It was clear that Leila remained within his thoughts even now. Jaffar had a feeling of slight remorse for having been the one who killed her.

Sceleris looked worried for a short while, but quickly composed himself.

"It makes no difference." he whispered.

Quick as a flash, he had pulled an arrow from his quiver and fired it. Pinpoint accuracy against almost inhuman reflexes and agility.

The arrow hit its target, Jaffar, but had only embedded itself in his thigh. Matthew looked on, his face showing only the slightest signs of concern, Jaffar, of all people, could handle himself.

Jaffar's face showed no sign of having sustained the wound. He looked down at the shaft of the arrow that protruded from his leg with mild interest. Then he made his move.

Jaffar had leapt at the half-morph with speed equal to that of the drawing on the arrow, knocking him to the ground. Sceleris's smug face was replaced with one with surprise. The hunter tried to draw an arrow from his seemingly bottomless quiver, but Jaffar was too quick. He bent down and sliced the strap of the quiver before kicking it into the far corner of the room and catching the morph's wrists with his hand and pushing his knees down on Sceleris's chest, immobilising him.

Now the morph's face contorted in rage, his first true show of emotion. He glared up at Jaffar with more rage in his expression than Jaffar thought possible in a person.

"So maybe the lap-dog is faster than me" Sceleris hissed, baring his teeth, "You might kill me, but the victory will still be mine! That arrow, it was dipped in the venom of the most hated creatures that wander this earth. Your strength has spared you for now but just wait, just wait. I might die by your hand, but you'll die by mine! Finish me now, you're revenge will be fulfilled, it does not matter, either way, you were killed by me"

But to the morph's surprise, the weight on his chest was lifted, he gasped, his lungs filling with air. Jaffar had moved his knees to the floor where he now crouched, still holding Sceleris's in a grip like a vice.

"I'm not going to kill you," Jaffar whispered, his eyes shadowed, "You took Nino from me, you stole the energy that directed my life, to kill you will not suffice."

"I'm afraid that you don't won't have enough time to do much else" the morph replied, sneering now, the risk of him being killed seemed to have lessened slightly, "your time is trickling away, you'll be with your precious wife within minutes"

Jaffar's lips had upturned slightly.

"You're right" he whispered quietly, but the morph could hear every word. "I'm not going to kill you. But I will have my revenge"

At this, Jaffar lifted his dagger and held out four of the ten of Sceleris's fingers, the index and middle fingers of each hand. Sceleris's luminous eyes widened as the realisation dawned. He tried to yank his hands out from Jaffar's steel grip. Jaffar brought the dagger down, its blade plummeting like a hawk towards its prey, the four wriggling fingers.

Matthew stood behind the two. He didn't hear when the cut was made, but he did hear Sceleris's screams of both agony and despair. He saw Jaffar rise. Sceleris remained on the ground, staring at the two bleeding stumps on each on his hands where his index and middle fingers had been, unbelieving.

Jaffar now spoke in a harsh voice.

"You were going to leave me without the thing I loved more than life itself, now I'm going to leave you without your most prized possession, your archery skills. You can't shoot a bow without those two fingers can you? I know your type, you're strength and resistance will make yourself hard to kill, you will be forced to wander, having traded your previous life for something that you've now lost."

The pathetic figure on the floor laughed, a laugh empty of any mirth.

"I might have paid the price of your vengeance, but you have forgotten. I can see you weakening now, the poison is taking effect. In refusing to kill me, it will be I who comes out top! I will have killed the infamous Angel of Death. It may be a hollow victory, but I will still have defeated you and there is nothing that you can do to stop it!"

Sceleris was right, Jaffar's breathing had become laboured, he began to feel light headed. He tried to use his determination to delay death for just a few more minutes.

"That's where you're wrong, Sceleris"

Matthew walked up behind Jaffar. Jaffar closed his eyes slowly.

Matthew wandered out into the night, Sceleris's screams echoing out from within the store house. He wiped his bloody knife on a stained brown cloth. When all red traces had been removed, he returned his trusty dagger to its sheath, the hilt making a slight click as it slid into place.

Matthew sighed and put his hand to his brow. Every night of every year since defeating Nergal, Leila had never left his thoughts. He could picture her as he had last seen her, on Death Isle, body limp. He remembered his rage, his lust for vengeance. He would have given anything to avenge Leila, but now he had seen how far a man would go to get it, he wasn't so sure.

Matthew shuddered, when he had received Jaffar's letter, he had learnt what his friend had wanted. Matthew knew of Jaffar's devotion, but had not expected that he would be forced to play an active part in his revenge.

When Matthew thought now, Jaffar could not have lost tonight, he would not have conceded a single point, he had exacted his share of vengeance, had rid himself of his guilt, had prevented Sceleris from claiming the bounty on his head, and had taken the only option that was left to him in this life without Nino. Matthew was glad that he had befriended Jaffar rather than continue to try and kill him.

Matthew took a deep breath. He pulled the letter sent to him by Jaffar from his pocket and unfolded it, skim reading it a final time. He let it flutter to the ground; the moonlight catching a line of words as it fell,

"…for Leila…"

There would be no sleep for him tonight.

The last thing that Jaffar saw as he closed his eyes was Sceleris lying before him, defeated by the resurrected Angel of Death. Jaffar had won, yet he felt so cold. Nino had been avenged, his guilt for having killed Leila was about to be lifted and he was not going to be killed by Sceleris's arrow. So why did he feel so hollow?

Jaffar heard Matthew's reluctant footsteps. His friend Matthew, whom he had stolen a dear thing from. He could not return what he had taken, but he could try to pay for it.

Jaffar could almost sense the knife that his fellow assassin raised. He felt his friend hesitate.

"Do it Matthew. For her" he whispered gently

Jaffar did not actually feel the clean cut across his throat. But his eyes snapped open. He didn't feel as he fell to the hard floor. There was only a swirl of rushing black and white. He could feel the Angel of Death rising from his body, having served its purpose, leaving his mortal body limp across the floor. The angel's blinding presence gone, it left only Jaffar, all thoughts of blood shed and vengeance replaced. Three words that echoed through the caverns of his once hollow heart.

…Nino…I'm coming…

Mishchief Mage: That's it. Yup that's it. I kinda rushed the end abit so it might not be quite as good as the other chapters. Thanks for reading. Please review if you have time