Legacy of the Crown

02

  I reach down and sift my hands through my horse's mane. Its hair looks almost obsidian in the moon's glow. My body is still flowing with adrenaline from leaving the manor and I feel no pain even when there should be. After years of training, you learn to block it out.

I look up and study the back of Azreil. He was the next in class to me. A lot of people don't think he can handle the jobs given to him by how young he looks. Same for me. They judge me because I'm female and I should be playing wife at home, leaving the dirty jobs to the men.

I remember the look on Jaron's face when I failed his test at first. Disgusted. Scornful. Regretful. It took years for Jaron to overlook the boundaries of being me being female. I wanted to be the best in the guild.

I wanted to be ready for when I get revenge.

Now, everybody in the guild and streets is scared of the name, Hazel Reshsa. The Master Assassin.

I study the back of Azreil more. I'm surprised he hasn't earned a title yet.

Looking past him, I spot the upcoming lights of our village. I don't want to go face Jaron when we have to hand in the ring. He would only give me another assignment. Even I need rest from the constant crimes I commit.

I lance my reigns and speed up to Azreil. I feel each shift of my weapons on me with each move the horse makes. The way the hidden daggers chafe against my thighs and the pressure of my special Armenian dagger, a soft comforting presence. The push and pull of the bow and the arrows on my back. Not to mention the scraps of all the other confined weapons stashed somewhere on me. It makes me feel powerful and prepared for anything.

"You can go ahead and take the ring to Jaron," I say as I reach out and give him the gold band. A giant emerald sits atop a pool of rubies. Azreil looks at me, his brown eyes questioning me. It is always tricky trying to do anything with other assassins, as they often backstab you. Just as fast as I see it flash in his eyes, I see it disappear into understanding. Azreil is the only person I consider family. He understands me without having to ask.

"What about your pay?" He asks while taking the ring. A pressure lifts off me when he takes it and my stomach lurches. Frowning, I shake off the feeling.

"You keep it. I know you need it more than I do. I can find work anywhere. I don't have anything I need, unlike you." I see sadness flicker in his eyes before it returns to that stone hard expression. I know that buying his sick younger sister's potions took everything he had. Only I knew this.

No one else.

It could be looked upon as a weakness and have him killed. Jaron doesn't want weak assassins. I care for Azreil, but I know a broken heart is all that is set up between us because of the work we do. The closest we call ourselves are friends, but we both know that we are nothing like friends. We're there for each other, but we need to let go before we crack.

I remember the night I held him and cried as he told me about the first time he took a life and I told him mine. I was 13 when I first took a life and sent his soul to the gods. We never grew distant as we should have, instead, we only grew closer. Closer than we should risk.

"Thank you," he tells me. I smile and he smiles back. His dimples coming alive. It is rare to ever see them.

"I'm just going to go by the tavern and get a drink. Listen around. Maybe strike a few deals. I just don't feel like facing Jaron at this moment." I shrug.

"I was hoping you wouldn't ditch me. Now I have to face him alone." he playfully huffs. I elbow him in the side and snort. "Your welcome to come by my house after," he adds.

"Yeah. I'll drop by." I smile, speeding away.

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