Through the Eyes of an Assassin

Chapter 2

Her feet were moving even before those around her realized what had happened.  She was a blur of movement, racing through the crowded room and towards the window.
       The shouts of the men accompanied the clatter of glass as she broke through the window.
       The second story drop to the ground was broken as she rolled with the momentum, rolling several times before jumping to her feet and dashing away.
       The moon high overhead lit the path before her.
       She was a vapor, a shadow in the night.  Death embodied.
       Her sturdy leather boots wound up her calf and were utterly silent on the cobblestone streets, her dark cape and long braid billowed behind her.
      Black leggings tucked snugly into her boots and a mask was pulled over her face, hiding her identity from vengeful eyes.  Very few knew of her real name, and those who did were watched closely.  She couldn't take any chances.
      Twin swords hung on her hips, smacking her legs as she ran.  Heavy footsteps sounded behind her as two large guards pursued her.  Skia cursed under her breath and ducked into an alleyway, taking several back routes to loose them.
     She was faster than they were, but the guards didn't give up.  She lost them a couple corners back, but they still pursued her.
     "H-help me!"  A strangled voice called out as she skidded to a halt in another alleyway.  Her light green eyes flashed in the direction the voice came from.
     A form lay prone in the alley, mostly hidden by the shadows cast from the tavern.  Normally she would have kept going, figuring him to be a deadbeat drunk, but the waiver of slurred pain in his voice caused her pause.
    Skia cursed and stepped over to him, kneeling down slightly as her eyes scanned over the numerous bruises, black eye, split lip, and...
    The slowly pooling blood seeping from a knife wound in his side.
     The man grinned up at her, "Pretty bad, huh?  Well I can assure you that it hurts as bad as it looks."
     Sounds of the guards getting closer pushed her to move faster and she glanced over her shoulder towards the opening.  The guards would pass by any second.
     The man next to her tried to sit up but she grasped his shoulder and shoved him back down, "Lay still if you want to live."  She hissed, quickly standing and backing into the darker shadows, practically vanishing.  He seemed to understand, and went still.
     No sooner had her form disappeared in the shadows then the guards came into view, both slightly out of breath as they marched down the alleyway.
     They spotted the drunk and came over to investigate, "what do we have here?" One asked his companion in a gruff, winded tone.
      "Looks like another unhappy drunk got in a bar brawl and lost."  The other replied.
     His companion chuckled, but before he could respond, there was a strangled, gurgling sound and he dropped to the ground, clutching his slit throat as he drowned in his own blood.
     Skia's twin blades sang, whistling through the air as she cut down the other guard before he could react to his counterpart's sudden death.
      Before his body could even hit the ground, Skia knelt beside the wounded drunk, pulling him into a sitting position.
      "Come on, I need to get you to Bear." She intoned. The drunk groaned as she hauled him to his feet and supported his weight with one of his arms over her shoulders and her arm around his waist. At nearly 6'2", he was much taller than her and her head barely reached his chin.
       "Whose Bear?" He asked, his voice taut with pain.
       "Someone who can help." Was all she offered in response as she half supported, half dragged him through the alleyway and into the backstreets.
       The further into the south side of the city they went, the more pairs of eyes watched them. Starving, almost feral eyes of homeless urchins followed them curiously as they passed. The drunk's warm blood soaked the hand she had around his waist.
       The cobblestone streets became increasingly destitute, the buildings looking as if they were moments away from collapsing in on themselves.
       Several stray cats kicked over metal tins in an alleyway to their right, and Skia's eyes flickered to it briefly, still alert for more guards.
       Content that they were alone for now, she wound her way through the familiar streets until they found a small cottage cramped between two taller buildings.
        Unlike its neighbors, the cottage was in surprisingly good condition. Dwarfed by the tall buildings surrounding it, the strange cottage stood out even more due to the state of particular care it was in. It wasn't falling apart, and the paint was still new. Flowers had been planted in the window boxes below the twin windows on either side of the door, though they had yet to bloom. A small apothecary sign hung over the door.
      Skia ignored the front door and went around the side to kick the back door. It opened after several seconds.
      "Skia! I was beginning to wonder if they'd..." The voice stopped as the man who'd opened the door saw that she wasn't alone.
       The beast of a man took up the entire doorway with his wide frame, broad shoulders, and barrel chest. His thick arms clenched the door and his observant brown eyes glanced them up and down, quickly noting the blood drenching the man's left side.
       "Who...?" He began to ask, but Skia interrupted.
        "Help me get him inside." She said softly, but in a tone that made it clear that it wasn't a request. With a swiftness that suggested familiarity, Bear stepped out the door and quickly took the weight off Skia's shoulders so she could head inside. While the drunk was tall, Bear was almost 6'9", and he had to tilt his head back slightly to look him in the face.
     "Bear indeed..." He muttered as the barrel chested apothecary carried him inside. Skia cleared the vials of various medical potions and plants off the small work table in the center of the room. It usually doubled as a dining table, but for now it was the best place to lay the injured drunk. Bear lay him down on top.
     "I'll need clean bandages, the sewing kit, a small bowl with hot water and a towel, and the leaves with jagged edges on that shelf." Bear said calmly as he set about to take care of his impromptu patient.
      Skia unemotionally gathered the requested items and placed them on the table, next to the drunk's elbow. Bear kept his eyes on his work as he gently peeled away half of the drunk's shirt so he could better assess the wound.
      Skia retreated to the other end of the room. Blood didn't bother her, but the smell of whatever plant Bear was using to keep the wound disinfected smelled awful.
      While he worked on cleaning the man's wound and stitching him back up, Skia went about cleaning her swords. The blood from the guards had dried already and she worked to scrub it off the blades. Bear's sharp intake of breath drew her attention.
       His eyes met hers briefly, and she only caught his slight hesitation because she knew him well. Bear turned back to his patient and she caught the man glancing between her and the physician curiously, if a little warily.
        Her eyes narrowed as she turned away and back to her own task. Bear would tell her what had bothered him. Soon she was lost to her task and didn't bother to look up when Bear walked over to her fifteen minutes later.
       "Skia..." He said her name softly to get her attention. The assassin sheathed her blade and tilted her head back to meet his eyes, crossing her arms over her chest.
        "Hmm?" She questioned.
        "Do you know who that is?" He asked, indicating the now sleeping man on the table. Skia arched a brow at her companion.
          "Should I?" She pressed. Bear sighed.
          "He has a nasty scar..." Skia tilted her head, trying to understand where he was going with this. Why would a scar be important? She shrugged.
           "I have plenty of those myself, Bear." She told him. Bear shook his head, almost sadly.
           "Not like this one, you don't." The assassin's brow furrowed slightly, but before she could ask, Bear continued. "Where did you find him?"
            Her light green eyes flickered to the man whose life she had just saved, absentmindedly noting his strong jaw, straight nose, and tan skin. "Behind a tavern in the east sector." Her voice was controlled and unemotional, but for some unidentifiable reason, Skia had to look away. Something about him was uncomfortably familiar.
            Instead, the sparsely furnished room gained her attention.
            "What should we do?" Bear asked softly from beside her. "With the League after us...?" Skia's sigh cut him off and she rubbed the back of her neck, fighting off the exhaustion that the late hour brought with it.
             "I know." She replied, scanning the room that Bear had spent the better part of the afternoon packing.
             "But what do we do about HIM?" Bear asked, not giving her time to come up with a solution. The tight line of her lips was enough to tell him that she was thinking about it, carefully considering the situation, analyzing it from all angles before finally answering him.
               "He'll have to come with us."