Treszure
"Why aren't you cowering?"
"Hmm, for me to cower, I'd have to be sincerely frightened,"
"You do realise I have a knife against your throat, right?"
"I'm a certified masochist. Contrary to popular belief, this situation happens more often than not."
-------------------------------------------------------
Darcy Leighton doesn't exist.
She's been dead for a long, long time.
And I, someone entirely nameless and without a purpose, is using her as my route to redemption.
Commonly known as the nameless, the no named humans roam the dark lands of Astain. Their lives are repetitive, with no purpose, no drive, or no meaning. In a world where your true name means everything, everyone is born with their own real name, but not everything always goes as planned, and some find themselves nameless and without solace.
I was lucky. Lucky that I was saved before, I was transformed into one of the mindless zombies that roamed Astain. But with that redemption came a debt. A debt I pay every day with my very life. I, now Darcy Leighton, am a trained assassin for the royal family of the reigning kingdom Ryden. Who have now sent me to assassinate one of the most feared name snatchers in the kingdom Kaladin Aslav.
Someone who snatched my own name.
But many lies lie intertwined and slithering beneath the surface. And I'm just a pawn in all the mess that's been formed. Someone who could easily break under pressure.