Broken Wings
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- Parts 2
MatureOngoing25m
Last published Mon, Jun 2, 2014
Updated: 9/15/14
Name: Xavior Alexander Malice
Age: 24
Height: 6'8"
Appearance: Shoulder length black hair. Blue eyes. Pale. Sharp jaw line. Broad shoulders; muscular build.
Killing Style: Twin double sided blades; hand guns; archery; crossbows. Mutilates victims with cursive lettering; capitol XM carved into the right cheek.
~
My eyes scan the freshly printed information sheet of my new target. Xavior Malice. One of the ONAs' most wanted. The Order of Nine Angels; an organization of assassins. Trained killers. The members of this organization sign a blood oath. An oath that if broken; the other members have the right to kill them on sight. And they will. Without blinking. We are trained not to feel. To crush emotions at the threshold of the mind. And I. Well I am one of the best there is in the Order. The similarities between myself and the desired target are uncanny. The fact that he specialized in the exact same weapons as I interested me. Though the interest ended there. Emotions are for the weak. I am not weak, therefore I deny any emotion that tries to break me. The only thing I feel is bloodlust. The thrill of the hunt. Or so that's how it was up until I met my target. I tend to like to play with my prey before I end their lives. But this one dances toe to toe with me. Predicting my moves before I even know them myself. My last target destroys me from the inside. He makes me feel. And therefore ends my life.
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The Shadow of the East is a monster. Tyrin Caderyn is no better. They've met before, but memory painted each a ghost and a flicker of familiarity. Both of them hail from strong and vicious bloodlines. Time and tragedy and choice bind them together. War is on the horizon, and Shadow is in the midst of schemes and plans greater than her. She's on the run from a man she learned to hate, and her own past. Her secrets can destroy her. Tyrin is an Elite warrior for the Ilystari Realm and answers only to the king and queen. When he's sent to hunt down a powerful female, he doesn't question the orders. But when he meets her, everything changes. Darkness encroaches and alliances break. Bonds are formed and friendships shatter. There is a greater power at play than either of them realized. Has fate drawn them together, or something stronger? -- She huffed a quiet laugh. "Well, I suppose I'll get paid one way or another for his death. If you let me keep his body, you have a deal." Tyrin darted his eyes back to gauge the honesty of her response, but she sounded sincere. He finally nodded. Her grin was nothing shy of wicked. Something inside his chest reared it's sleeping head and purred at that expression. "I hope you and I never meet again. These Realms aren't ready for us." Weren't ready for her, he wanted to correct. A shiver of a promise zinged through his blood and he grinned back at her. "What's your name, little assassin?" She started melting back into the shadows - back the way she'd come to give him the privacy of the kill. "I am no one and nothing. Forget about me, pretty male. It won't do to dwell on a shadow." And then she was gone.
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