The Assassin of Vraik ✔️

Chapter Two: The Mountain named Velcron

Kylla snapped her eyes open, her mind instantly alert and on guard. With her heart racing, she finished scanning the surroundings within seconds. Not moving an inch, she hid under the bed coverings, a couple rags and sac of sand, as much as possible.

            Creaking noises sounded from all around her as she listened and she was unable to pinpoint the source. She remembered that there was a maneuver, that only those from the Velcron Academy knew, which hid ones presence with surround sound. Kylla shut her eyes slowly, and calmed her beating heart to feign sleep.

            Luckily she slept dressed with her daggers stuffed under the bag of sand. She stuck her hand underneath it, and pulled out her weapons with one hand. Making sure to keep her eyes shut, Kylla shifted into a more suitable position for combat and placed the second dagger in her other hand.

            Now armed and prepared, she waited and bided her time for the attacker, planning to catch them off guard. She pictured her room from memory and studied its features with single minded concentration. Inside there was a window, one door, no closet, with only her in the far corner covered by her cloths. The rags helped decrease her visibility from on lookers and—had she the need—could help her with escaping.

            Much to her surprise the attacker burst through the window, leaped off the wall and soared at her, a long sword pointed at her chest. Though disappointed with the showed level of stealth, Kylla countered full power by rolling over causing his sword to pass harmlessly by her. At the same time she lifted the rags as a shield to entangle the long sword.

            One example of the reasons she thought daggers were much better.

            Obviously the attacker wasn’t all that well trained for he kept on tugging at the trapped sword. Kylla spun around and dug her left dagger into his hand—which was occupied by trying to free his sword—and the other into his free hand. Then she let go of the daggers, grabbed his wrists, pulled them down, and then swung her knee up to meet it.

            With a loud sickening thud the attacker crumbled at her feet. He may not have been dead but she had hit him hard enough to put him into a permanent commas. Feeling generous, Kylla removed the mask and touched the man’s forehead in respect. He looked somewhere in his mid-twenties perhaps a little more, so she counted to twenty and five before ending his life. Kylla slit his throat, and pointed him the other way so the blood splattered onto the wall rather than her.

            “You should feel grateful.” Kylla whispered to the corpse. “Dying in battle sends you into the arms of the Lady Death.” With that she dropped the body at her feet and leaped out the window and into the night.

            Kylla dropped three stories and rolled the moment she landed, causing her legs to take less of the pain than they should have. They went numb for a second and she hid in the shadows of the alley to wait. When the feeling returned to them, she sprung to her feet and headed toward the worn out path used by everyday passerby.

            She locked on to two thieves pick pocketing a man who looked poor almost the moment the alley passed her by. She noticed the man’s eyes flicker towards the thieves as they passed, but after a few seconds and he did nothing she suspected it was only coincidences.

            Shaking her head, she cleared her mind and focused on her goal. What she had dedicated her entire being too. The destruction of the Academy.

            The Academy was a place where the geniuses of Vraik gathered under the headmaster, Draikovitch. He was known for his ruthlessness and utter indestructibility. Most of the subordinates were only there because of him, and when he died it would cause the entire Academy would fall and crumble into nothingness.