The Eagle and The Rat [Arno Victor Dorain]

I - Si Seulement Je t'avais Oublié

Sun came streaming into the streets, which was very rare in Paris. Most days the light barely managed to filter in through the grey clouds that covered France. You were lucky if you could walk the streets and not step in the mud.

Today, obviously, was quite different. A buggy drawn by two black stallions made its way through the uneven dirt of the roads. Inside a single woman sat, cheek pressed against the cold window, as she fell in and out of consciousness.

The curtains had been drawn closed to ease her headache, but nothing seemed to be working. Every time she felt as if she could finally sleep, the wheels of the carriage ran over another rock, making her bounce and hit her head.

It didn't quite matter anyway. She would be arriving soon, and then work would start all over again. Not that she could complain; never a dull moment in the life of an Assassin.

Slowly, the carriage came to a stop, the weight of the man steering jumping off startling the woman inside. Patting down any loose hairs, the Assassin peaked out of the window, her eyes scanning her new surroundings.

It seemed like an eternity since she'd been in Paris last, yet it was just as she remembered it. "Home sweet home," she murmured, looking to the tall buildings and flying pigeons. She even saw one take a poo on a nearby stranger.

Yikes.

There was a rhythmic knock at the door. "Master Bellec," he spoke in a gravelly voice. He'd clearly been smoking more. "We've arrived at your destination."

Maxime pushed the door open, sticking her head out of the cabin and taking a deep breath before jumping the rickety steps. "Not quite Master Assassin yet," she corrected her chauffeur, as she gave him a sack of coins and a hardy handshake. "Though next time we meet, I will be."

The man laughed, returning the handshake with as much fervor. "Good luck with the Council, and of course, congratulations." With that he was off, and so was Maxime. Before the carriage had passed her by, she managed to pull up her hood, the feathers gently swaying with the light breeze.

The soon-to-be Master Assassin closed her eyes, taking in a deep breath and letting her bare hands feel the cold air. For a moment it felt like she was on top of Notre Dame, watching the eagles glide through the sky, and then the Pyramid of Giza, where she could feel the hot winds blow sand onto her face.

She grew aware of the many eyes on her, turning around and looking up to the rooftops. There stood many of her fellow Assassins, eager about her long-awaited arrival.

One stood up, stumbling on the tiles of the roof and pushing off one of his knees to get up. The axe on his back shone brightly. He walked towards the edge of the roof, bringing his fingers to his mouth and letting out a loud whistle.

"What?" she yelled back at him.

Even from her position on the ground, she could tell the man was smirking. "You're early," he shouted, "We expected you two years from now."

Maxime chuckled, as the other Assassins still hiding looked at the interaction, "Not happy to see me? I could always go back."

"I'm overjoyed to see you back, Mademoiselle," he told her, "I just hope you're ready to get your ass kicked in front of the Council."

Maxime turned back around and looked to the cathedral in front of her. "We'll see about that."

Her feet began to move, not bothering to take the fast lift up and choosing to enjoy the feeling of the stone instead. She jumped from ledge to ledge, too excited to see her friends and family for the first time in years. Her muscles seemed to already know exactly where she was headed.