"Master? Someone is here to see you," said Franz Archibald's butler, both of them standing in his large hall. Archibald ran a fat hand through his balding hair and answered,"Who is it? If it's one of Truth's messengers again, you can send them right back. I don't want them here, OK?" Archibald frowned.
He sat in his large, red sofa which even noblemen would find expensive and smoked a cigar. The white puffs of smoke emanating from his cigar reminded him of his childhood, mischievously smoking with his rich friends.
"Ehm... He says his name is Ford, told me he's an old friend of yours."
"Oh!" Archibald yelled, a radiant expression etched on his face. "Let him in! And bring some wine when you get back here, I think we'll be here for a while."
He watched the door to his great hall, his eyes gleaming with joy.
The hall was lined with stained glass windows. Two ornate crystal chandeliers shone with light that gleamed off of a polished wooden table surrounded by red sofas.
The magnificent wooden door opened and in strode a man that made Archibald yell with enthusiasm, his voice ringing through the extravagant hall.
"Ford!"
Ford strode up to where Archibald stood and they quickly burst into conversation.
The man looked completely different from Archibald, as he was a lanky man. He had a surprisingly high voice, but not comically so and he somehow still seemed intimidating. His speech was declamatory and firm and almost every time he raised his voice, people around him would jump out of their seat in discomfort.
Archibald didn't care if he himself looked threatening or commanding. He had so much money; it didn't matter.
Their conversation was filled with normal noblemen talk.
"We should assassinate him, you know. It would get us a lot of money." Ford told Archibald.
"You're right about that, but I think he would suspect me, y'know. Remember when I scammed him? He killed two of my servants after that. Didn't really matter but it sure was annoying."
"Alright, then. That's not it..."
The conversation went on and they spoke about local politics, the ways they could get more money from the king, Lord Voydrage, and if they could buy an army to overthrow him. None of the servants batted an eye to this as it was not out of the ordinary.
They did eventually grow tired, though, and Ford left which made Archibald, who felt exhausted, alone. He contemplated what he would eat the next day, but eventually dozed off.
Archibald woke up when he heard familiar screams from outside the hall, yelling his name. He was about to investigate the strange noises when the large doors burst open, the sound hurting Archibald's ears.
In the doorway stood a short, young woman who was in her late teenage years. She wore dark clothes, a hood partially covering some distinct, white hair. There was a lengthy cape on her back and she also wore gloves of a bloodlike colour.
She glanced down at Archibald's expensive, white suit with a stare of disgust, and when he looked down at her gloves he saw her hands holding two long daggers with a lightning pattern carved into the handle. His heart began palpitating even more rapidly and he began quivering, not knowing what to do.
The young woman leapt forward with incredible speed for her size and plunged her dagger deep into Archibald's chest. She pulled her small mouth into a hateful but satisfied grin.
Archibald only managed a grunt as blood flowed down from his wound, with the same colour as the woman's gloves. Details other than her gloves got muddled in the fright that Archibald felt as the life drained from his body.
As Archibald's last moments faded away, the young woman shut her eyes and murmured something. The only words Archibald could hear were "May you" and the rest was unintelligible.
She then slowly turned and walked away, and Archibald's heart stopped beating.
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The Legion of Hunters (#Wattys2019)
FantasyIn Threlkeld, death is a thriving trade. Assassins known as Hunters are hired to track down and dispatch of their marks without guilt or mercy, and Lorca is one of them. When a great tragedy befalls her at the hands of a man known only as Void, Lorc...