In 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...
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He was scum! Another nobleman who had slaves which he would call his "servants", and did nothing for the world. He must have been! Lorca argued to herself. He was no different from the hundreds of other noblemen she'd assassinated before. He looked so familiar, though. He looked like her father.
Lorca didn't want to admit the fact, but she did. He really did look like her father.
She didn't know where her father was. He was probably either starving in the slums or slaving for a nobleman. The only one she had now was her brother.
Lorca's feet were barely hearable as she jumped from roof to roof. She smelled trash around her so clearly that it almost felt like she could taste it, and she could hear the deep rumble of thunder nearby. That was bad news. She would have to be extra careful with going outside. A storm was coming.
The part of Threlkeld around her was a filthy place. It was the slums, and there was not only filth from the garbage, waste and half-rotten houses that were cramped together, but also from the people who lived here. There were people who killed senselessly, so distraught and horrified by the things that would happen that they spiralled into insanity.
You could get beaten up by a gang of thugs, only to wake up with hungry, half-dead rats all over your body trying to feast on you. It was horrible, and no one could help you. They were all too scared to do so, and those who did got a gruesome death in exchange were they ever seen helping.
Lorca shuddered, trying to get her mind off the horrid place that was Threlkeld.
Lorca looked down at the wet street below and caught a glimpse of a large puddle. Her face was reflected in the dirty water, and her almost blinding white hair stood out from her dark clothing. Her round, hazel eyes stared back at her from the muddy water.
She pulled out a small, oval-shaped piece of stone from her jacket pocket. On the stone was carved a lightning symbol, which she had also carved into her daggers. The stone was the only physical memory of her father, and she didn't know why he left it when he departed from her and James.
In the distance, she could see the small apartment she had managed to scrounge up money for.
It was very small and could only fit two beds and a few boxes to store food. It also had a window, which she used to enter at night. It would be pretty suspicious to turn up in a cape and a belt that held daggers at the front entrance.
She arrived at the dark roof across from her apartment window and jumped inside. She saw her brother, James, lying in his small, uncomfortable bed.
He stared back at her with his hazel eyes and smiled with his small mouth, which both he and Lorca had gotten from their father.
"Hi there, James! You alright?" Lorca said. She gave him a friendly smile and walked further into the room. She took her red cape and her jacket off and sat beside him.
