AbbyM_01

      His dagger slit her throat and blood bubbled from the thin slice. Sceth could not look her in the eyes, no, he felt guilty already for what he had done. Which was rather unfortunate, guilt always made it especially hard to escape and was a useless emotion. What was done could never be undone. Sceth waited until she fell on her own accord though her blood still pooled in a ring around her head. 
          	
          	         Sceth's head rose from her body and his eyes focused on the moonlit balcony. Escape would be much easier than he had planned. 
          	
          	~End of Prologue~

potter_spellbook

[ hi! remember me? ] 

potter_spellbook

[ @waterisessential it's fine! i did the same thing sometimes during january] 
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potter_spellbook

[ @waterisessential oh my god, it's been like forever XD almost a year or so since we last talked ] 
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AbbyM_01

      His dagger slit her throat and blood bubbled from the thin slice. Sceth could not look her in the eyes, no, he felt guilty already for what he had done. Which was rather unfortunate, guilt always made it especially hard to escape and was a useless emotion. What was done could never be undone. Sceth waited until she fell on her own accord though her blood still pooled in a ring around her head. 
          
                   Sceth's head rose from her body and his eyes focused on the moonlit balcony. Escape would be much easier than he had planned. 
          
          ~End of Prologue~

AbbyM_01

         Sceth did not speak. Oh how easily he could disarm her, if only he could reach his dagger without her notice. He breathed evenly to portray a calm façade, "I tend to speak more willingly when a blade is not digging into my esophagus." 
          
                   The woman hissed, her mouth close enough to his back for Sceth to feel the swirl of heat from her breath. She smelled of lilacs and roses, not an uncommon combination for a woman of her status. "You will speak now," she snarled in Sceth's ear, her blade twirled in her fingers and opened a small puncture in his skin. 
             
                   Sceth inhaled sharply. Blood trickled down his neck and seeped into his shirt collar. He brought his elbow up sharply and slammed the bone into her exposed armpit, grabbed her arm as it jerked in surprise to snap the dagger from her fingers. It had always been quite satisfying for him to hear the clang of metal when it hit the floor. 
          
                   Lady Evelyn was a beautiful woman, one that Sceth would have fantasized about had he been a young boy. His lips curled into a mischievous grin and he dug his thumb into a bundle of nerves on her wrist. Her face contorted in pain, dark eyes gleamed with the sensation and was laced with an emotion that appeared to be anger. 
          
                   "Sceth," Evelyn growled when she peered through the darkness and recognized his face. "Why have you come?"
          
                   Sceth tilted his head. He would be sad to see her go. They had been friends during their childhood, perhaps more until Sceth was swept away from Yyelle to be trained. "I'm sorry."
          
             

AbbyM_01

Without a sound Sceth dashed forward, careful to avoid the pools of orange and yellow light that seemed to spread across the floor. Again he felt the gentle tug of the cape when it fluttered behind him, with a growl Sceth slashed away the fabric and left it behind to rest in an especially dark corner where it belonged. He could never truly understand his client's wishes, not like he cared one way or another as long as he was paid.
          
                   Moving with calculated diligence, Sceth counted off the doors as he passed them, each symbol one he had memorized from the map that his client provided him. The doors were expertly crafted and decorated in gold plates that were carved with multiple symbols and images along the upper ridge. Sceth paused before one in particular and grinned; he found it and with much less trouble than he suspected. His fingers tugged open the door and he slipped inside. Sceth closed it behind him and strode deeper within the dark chambers. 
          
                   It was cleaner than what he had first came to expect, especially from a woman. Sceth had heard that they were rather messy creatures with the aptitude to simply throwing their possessions about. He did not have to weave through towers of frilly dresses or plush, overstuffed chairs that would have been placed around the fireplace. Odd.
          
                   A soft creak alerted Sceth to a person behind him though he did not whirl about as he normally would. Though his fingers were tempted to curl over the handle of the blade tucked into his narrow belt. "I not mean harm," Sceth said in rather poor Trillian, not liking the way his voice scraped over every word.
          
                   "I do not speak the language of those mountain men," a woman said in Yyelle, the language that Sceth most commonly used and pressed the tip of a blade to his throat. "Who are you, Assassin?"
          
          __Samples of my book, the order is wrong so be careful __

AbbyM_01

         The assassin maneuvered gracefully between the wide columns of carved marble and bounded up a similarly built staircase. He was light on his feet, his body lithe and allowed a certain flexibility that his pursuers simply did not posses. Sceth slipped easily into the shadows and tugged his long cape into the darkness to swirl around his feet. Sceth was quick to realize that the silly tail of fabric would only hinder him in his task not that he minded giving it up, it had been a formality that his client had requested. 
          
                   Footsteps thundered over the luxurious stone floors, some the frantic pulse of palace guards, others the low rumble of the soldiers. Sceth feared neither and focused his attentions on the maze of passages that had become shrouded in the shadows created by flickering torchlight. How irritating, he thought, most castles Sceth had broken into were much smaller for a much smaller price. The chance of him escaping the same way he came was slim without aid. 
          
                   "How could he have just escaped?" A voice growled in thick accented Trillian, a language that Sceth had studied when he was a boy and found rather brutish. His father was constantly disappointed at Sceth's lack of interest.
          
                   Several other voices chorused in reply but was cut off with a sharp command that Sceth did not recognize. He tipped his head and listened intently, perhaps he could make out the rough words. "Move you foolish boy! You're making yourself to be a dirty mongrel underfoot." Same voice, same muddy accent. Sceth decided that he would be his first kill while escaping.