Ace climbed -being as lady like as she could- into the tall modern coach. The night black horses shifted and snorted, it was almost as if they knew of the long, relentless journey ahead of them.
The coach interior was red velvet, laced with swirling patterns designed in the Far Country. It was beautiful. Just as Ace had leant forward to study the swirls... the carriage jerked into movement- the consequence of which was that she slammed her face into the wall. She quickly recovered and checked to make sure no one had seen.
Despite cursing and muttering about her sore nose, Ace wistfully watched the city go past in a blur of churning colours. She would probably be away for many months and would miss this urban conglomeration of buildings she had started to call home.
As she embarked on her journey through the mountainous regions of the Near Country, she had a lot of time to think. Too much in fact, and as she dredged up old memories of the Far North she began to dread arriving.
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Ace Of Spades
FantasyAce Fairway is a notorious assassin with many dark secrets in her past, and no doubt many more to come in her future. She is famous for what she does, and has killed many times, but this victim is different. How is she connected to her target? Is...
