The Gifted
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- Parts 2
We don't really have a name. Some call us sacred, or more Sacrai, by the Demortar part of the realm. Most just call us, The Gifted.
Glass, a gifted assasin was banished from her Demortar home. She was only sixteen and had nothing but the clothes on her back. She found work here and there, doing jobs from farm work to killing peasants for nobles. As she turns twenty-one the king takes notice, inviting her to his castle.
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X (discontinued)
You frown a bit, deciding whether to take it or leave it. Someone may come back... Even so you slowly open the front cover to read the first page. --- He told me I should keep a journal. Write down everything I could about my life. He said it would help for those mortals of the future. I said no. I thought it was stupid. But I will honor his last wish --- I'm a creature of darkness. I'm an abomination. I'm an outcast. I'm no one. I'm X. *DISCONTINUED*Complete
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The Heart Knows No Crown
Jasper stiffens in his seat as I press the metal of the blade against his back. "Don't say a word. Come with me, right now." Of course, he doesn't listen. I had hoped a dagger to the kidney would be incentive enough, but even the threat of death doesn't graze a Devereaux ego. He turns toward me to argue, facing away from the goon that's been eyeing him across the bar. I doubt he even noticed. The man whispers something to his sketchy friend, pointing at Jasper. No time for discussion. I grab his arm and press the tip of the knife harder, just barely breaking the skin. He winces, realizing I mean business, and gets up. The idiot prince seems to finally get the memo, running alongside me until we're a safe distance away. "What the hell was that about?" his ragged breaths take the sting out of his words. I've never seen him like this before. Cheeks red, chest heaving, hunched over himself on the stump of a tree. For once, he looks like an authentic person. Of course, this is merely an illusion. Jasper Devereaux is an arrogant, entitled dirtbag, nothing more. I can't believe I just jeopardized my favorite trade spot for him. He demands to know why I pulled a knife on him instead of just telling him he was in danger. I explain to him that the reason for the dagger was glaringly obvious if you consider the way he acted when I did use it. If he was willing to argue with a blade against his skin, there is no way he'd have left that place in good hands if I hadn't forced him to. I can't help but laugh at the audacity of him to be angry with me for how I chose to save his life. "You really haven't changed." His head snaps up at this, and I see his eyes searching my face. Of course he doesn't recognize me. For me, it was super traumatic. For him, it was just another day. "What are you going on about?" "This isn't the kingdom, Jasper, these peasants aren't at your mercy." I see the blood drain from his face, and recognition clicks in his eyes.
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You frown a bit, deciding whether to take it or leave it. Someone may come back... Even so you slowly open the front cover to read the first page. --- He told me I should keep a journal. Write down everything I could about my life. He said it would help for those mortals of the future. I said no. I thought it was stupid. But I will honor his last wish --- I'm a creature of darkness. I'm an abomination. I'm an outcast. I'm no one. I'm X. *DISCONTINUED*
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