Chapter 6 The Reveal

Zorrik walked out the front door of the merchant Alban's house, the curved knife snuggly secured back in its sheath. He glanced around the dusty street, but the neighbors had all returned to their homes, and someone had even taken the body of the Grendval away. It didn't surprise him. The creatures were rare and valuable, from their fur to the medicinal properties in their tail spines. The street was so quiet now that it was as if nothing had ever happened. Not that it would have mattered. Now that his mission was complete, there was no need for stealth or secrecy. The citizens of the Imperial City would know that his decree had come from the Empire, and none would dare question it. The secrecy had been for his prey.

Zorrik walked into the street, taking a more direct route back to the Royal Palace than the rooftops he'd navigated across to get to his quarry. The wind was even harder now, the dust nearly choking, so he wrapped the mask back around his face, and thought about everything the merchant had told him.

Dawn was about to break when he reached the towering gates of the Imperial City. Two sentries stood guard, more Disciples, and they looked down at him as he approached. Large fires burned in grates at either side of the gate so they could clearly see anyone who approached. They knew who he was, but protocol called for a password. He gave it to them, and the two sentries turned the giant wheels that opened the gate, grunting from the effort.

When Zorrik was back in the Palace, he immediately made his way down the wide stone street that cut through the middle of the Palace grounds, to a modest house set to the back of the Royal Family's castle. It was a single-story dwelling, made of the same eggshell stone as the rest of the Palace, but the blocks were smaller, and the roof tiled in beautiful, terracotta ceramic. Though it was still very early in the morning, a light shone through the window. Zorrik stepped up to the door and pulled a cord, which rang a gong somewhere deep inside the house.

Zorrik clasped his hands in front of him and bowed his head slightly when he heard movement inside. A few moments later, the door was opened by an older man. He had a regal air, and his hair was long and white, the front pulled into a ponytail, and the back left long and flowing. He had a beard that was just as long as just as white. Despite his age, his blue eyes sparkled with vitality and curiosity.

"Master Zorrik," he said, his voice low and steady like he was giving a guided meditation.

"Grand Assassin," Zorrik said, but did not look up.

The Grand Assassin smiled, unable to hide his affection for his best and favorite student. "Come in," he said. "Tell me how your mission went."

Zorrik looked up, a smile touching his face as well. He did as he was told and came inside, and then relayed all that had happened at the merchant Alban's house.

The two men sat in the Grand Assassin's kitchen, sipping at herbal tea, a blend the Grand Assassin had mixed himself. After listening to what Zorrik had to say, his old Master put his cup down and nodded.

"So, you did not kill this man?" he said.

Zorrik shook his head. "In the end, he proved easy to turn. I thought he would be much more valuable as an informant. Whether we can ultimately trust him..." Zorrik shrugged. "I don't think he'll betray us, but he might prove unreliable."

"You did the right thing. The Family will be pleased. He has already given us important information."

Zorrik nodded in agreement, and then the two of them were silent while they finished their tea. When the tea was gone, Zorrik left the Grand Assassin's house and walked back to the barracks. The barracks included a few small houses for the Masters that were single, and a few a bit larger for the ones who weren't. Relationships were a complicated affair in the Assassins Guild. They had to be approved by the Royal Family, and consisted only of mated pairs of Assassins, usually two Masters, and almost exclusively of the same sex or gender. Nuclear families did not exist in the Assassins Guild. The Guild was your family.

Zorrik opened the door of his small dwelling. It wasn't much more than a bedroom and sitting area, with a small bathroom to the side. Assassins generally took their meals together at the Headquarters' kitchen, but the Master's houses had a brick oven and table if they wanted to cook and eat on their own. Zorrik's home was simple, without much in the way of adornment, but there were a few artifacts he'd kept or found from his homeland. A tapestry of sea dragons hung on the wall, and a couple of small statues of heroic figures sat on a shelf by his bed.

Zorrik started a fire and then took off his black shirt, revealing a long scar across his chest. It was a sword slash that went from the top of his right pec to the bottom left of his abs. He placed his blue and gold pin on the shelf by his statues and glanced at himself in the small mirror above it. His dark amber eyes glowed in the firelight, and he took a deep breath. He placed a hand on his chest, feeling the breath flowing in and out of him. It was one of the few cultural gestures he remembered from his homeland. Touching another's chest was akin to a handshake, and by touching his own, he was letting the spirit deep within him know that he was trying to get in touch.

Zorrik pulled the knife out of the sash at his waist and noticed the blood of the Grendval still staining his pants. He took them off too, and then stood, naked, in front of the mirror. His skin was bronzed from years in the desert sands, and matched his amber eyes. He pulled his long, steel gray hair out its pontytail, and let it fall on his back and shoulders. Then he took a deep breath and held it for a moment, staring at himself in the mirror. Then, as he slowly let his breath out again, his amber eyes began to glow.