Origin of the Assassin(Sequel to Trouble With Misfits)[Discontinued]

First Blood

Her feet hit the dirt  running as soon as the boat docked, however, she didn't make it very far before collapsing. She hadn't eaten, drank, or slept in at least five days, any normal being would be dead by three or four; but death was only something she could wish for. The scythe stayed firmly grasped in her fist, not allowed to dissipate until she gave the sons of the Dread wolf their first blood. She closed her eyes as she suddenly began to feel tired, she knew it was just a matter of hours now; before death finally claimed her. After a long silence, footsteps approached her then she was lifted into a pair of strong arms, a deep voice spoke only muffled words to her.

**

"Sir, are you sure Elder will be alright with bringing an outsider into the Sanctuary?" A grey haired male with spectacles asked a dark brown haired man.

"She is close to death, if we save her, she may be useful. If Elder approves, she will be given the option to join."

"If he doesn't approve?"

"She dies, simple as that. You know the rules of the guild, Slither." Was all the man said, making the male called Slither's eyes widen. "Remove the weapon from her fist." Doing as he was told, Slither tried to said object, but to no avail, the scythe remained glued in her fist.

"Night, what do we do?"

"Leave it, she will let go when she wakes up." Night turned with Lia still curled in his arms. "Let's go."

**

Whispers filled Lia's hearing as she woke with a groan, her ruby red eyes opening to an unfamiliar sight, dark figures stood in the shadows; all whispering while staring at her... or so it seemed. Her head pounded, her body felt like it was tearing itself apart from the inside, as well all Lia really felt like doing was sleeping; sleep until she eventually died. The door suddenly opened and the figures split into two sides, making way for another cloaked figure who approached with pride in his stance. Within two graceful strides, he was kneeling down in front of her.

"Good, you are awake, how do you feel?" A sultry but deep voice spoke, a slightly tanned hand reached up to tug down his hood; revealing a pair of gray orbs staring at her. The man had brown hair that hung down to the middle of his neck, bangs half covered his right eye, and a goatee decorated his chin. His face held an element of no games, only business.

Lia stared at the man with annoyance in her eyes, her jaw locking. "I just want to die... leave me be." The male snarled in response.

"Believe me, brat, I would if I could. I can't stand pathetic whelps, who don't even try to live life before they decide theirs is over. I'm following strict orders from our leader to keep you alive, he has plans for you." The man looked her over with disdain in his eyes, his lip curling up into a sneer. "When was the last time you ate, brat, the last you drank?" Lia glared daggers at him, only getting a blank stare in response. With a weak scoff, she turned her head away and blushed out of shame.

"A week...maybe more...or less..."

Grey orbs narrowed as the man whispered, "Pathetic." Before looking to Lia again. "What is your name, girl?"

"Lia Fae Nehal." She replied, giving her capture a grumble.

"And here I was thinking she was raised in a sty." He grumbled back in reply.

"Excuse you, what is your  name big shot?"

"The name I go by here in the Sanctuary, is Night. Dead Night, but Night."

"Why not keep the 'Dead' part in the name?"

"Why does a nosy little brat like you want to know?" Night asked, obviously growing annoyed with the young woman's uncontrolled mouth.