Murder Assignment

"I've been expecting you," Caius said, his voice smooth as velvet. He was a man of medium height, with dark hair and piercing red eyes that seemed to see right through Aldwyn. He was dressed in black leather armor, the kind that was both practical and silent.

Aldwyn raised an eyebrow, his hand on the grip of his revolver. "You knew I would come?"

Caius chuckled, his eyes gleaming in the torchlight. "Let's just say I have my ways of knowing when someone is looking for me." He gestured to the chair opposite him.

Aldwyn approached cautiously, his eyes scanning the room for any signs of an ambush. The Assassin's smile never wavered as he leaned back in his chair, steepling his fingers. "So, what brings you to my humble abode?"

"I am looking for someone willing to help me unlock the Assassin Path." Aldwyn said bluntly, his voice echoing in the chamber.

Caius' smile grew wider, revealing perfectly white teeth. "Ah, the path of the shadows," he said, leaning forward. "A wise choice indeed."

"The problem is that the pact forbids me to reveal the ritual just like that, but if you bring a suitable reward and prove yourself worthy, it shouldn't be a problem."

Aldwyn's eyes narrowed at the mention of a reward, but he didn't have much of a choice. "What do you want?"

Caius leaned back in his chair, stroking his chin thoughtfully. "A simple task," he said. "A man named Lemuel has been causing trouble. He's holed up in the university district. I need him to disappear."

Aldwyn's gaze hardened. "And what makes you think I'm capable of such a task?"

"That's exactly what I'm trying to find out. You can only enter the path of the Assassin if you are capable and worthy enough to do so." He replies.

Aldwyn's mind raced, weighing the risks and potential rewards. He knew the university district was heavily guarded, especially after the recent events, but the promise of power was too tempting to ignore. "Fine," he said, his voice a low growl. "But I expect you to hold up your end of the bargain."

Caius' smile grew even more mischievous. "Don't worry, we'll make a short pact to make sure that you complete this mission and to make sure that I tell you everything about the ritual."

He pulled out a piece of parchment and a quill, scribbling down the details of their agreement. The ink was dark, almost blacker than the shadows that danced on the wall. "Your target is a professor at the university, specializing in the study of ancient texts. He's been spreading dissent and heresy, and he needs to be silenced before he causes any more trouble."

Aldwyn took the parchment, his eyes scanning the words. The terms were simple: eliminate Lemuel. In return, Caius would initiate him into the Assassin's Path. They both dipped their thumbs in ink and pressed it down on the parchment, then Aldwyn put the paper in his vest pocket and nodded. "Consider it done."

He turned to leave, the water from his boots leaving a trail on the straw floor. "Remember," Caius called after him, "silence is your greatest ally."

„This could also be a trap...if I wasn't so desperate, I wouldn't take such a risk. It's possible that Lemuel also belongs to a path...then I wouldn't stand any chance."

As he climbed back up the ladder, the rain had turned into a downpour, the drops pounding against his face as if the sky itself was urging him to hurry. The university district was not a place for the faint of heart, especially at night. It was a bastion of knowledge, where scholars and mages alike pursued their studies behind thick stone walls and iron gates.

He hired a carriage, he paid 14 bronze coins for it. The driver a grizzled old man with a scarf wrapped tightly around his neck, his eyes glinting with curiosity at the generous fare. The cobblestone streets were slick with rain, the gas lamps casting a dim, flickering light that did little to dispel the gloom. The carriage jolted and swayed as it made its way through the city, the sound of the hooves echoing off the buildings.

When they reached the outskirts of the university district, Aldwyn stepped out, the cold rain soaking his clothes in seconds. The gates to the district were guarded by stern-faced men, their eyes scanning the shadows for any sign of trouble.

„Unlike during the day, security is clearly increased as soon the night comes. That is clearly a problem."

He needed to be clever, to use his wit and cunning to find another way in. As he observed the guards from the safety of the alleyway, he noticed a small service entrance, tucked away from the main road. It was poorly lit and less guarded, a perfect spot for a stealthy approach.

Aldwyn slipped into the shadows, the rain masking his movements. He approached the service entrance, noticing that the lock was rusted and old. With a quick flick of his revolver, the lock shattered and the door swung open with a soft squeak. He stepped inside and the smell of dust greeted him as he walked through the narrow corridor.

His boots echoed down the hallway, the sound bouncing off the high ceilings. He knew he had to be quick and silent. The guards would be alerted to any disturbance.

He continued walking along the corridor until he reached a staircase leading to the second floor. He slowly walked up the stairs until he reached the second floor. The building seemed to be abandoned for a while, as he didn't notice any people around.

He walked up the corridor of the second floor until he reached a window that led to a balcony. He opens the window with a hard yank.

Then he slowly climbed out and to his left he saw a ladder leading up to the roofs. He climbed up the ladder until he reached the roof. He looked around briefly until he noticed a house on the opposite side.

He also saw that this house was on the other side of the entrance. He took a deep breath and took a long run-up. Then he began sprinting and jumped to the opposite roof.

He landed with a thud, the sound of his boots muffled by the thick layer of moss.

On the side was a ladder leading downwards, and without wasting a moment, he descended into the shadows below. The ladder creaked and groaned under his weight, but it held firm. As he reached the ground, he found himself in a small, enclosed courtyard. The rain had turned the earth to mud, but the sound of his landing was muffled by the soft patter of rain.

The courtyard was surrounded by tall, ivy-covered walls, and the only way out was through a narrow archway. A dim light spilled from it, casting a yellow puddle on the ground. Aldwyn moved swiftly and silently, his twin blades at the ready.

As he emerged from the archway, he found himself in a network of alleys that crisscrossed the university district. The buildings here were closer together, the windows boarded up and the doors barred. It was clear that the residents of this part of the city took their security seriously.

„Didn't he say a simple task? I think he sent me here in order to truly test my skills." Aldwyn shook his head.

The rain had slowed to a drizzle, but the chill in the air made his skin crawl. He knew that he had to find Lemuel quickly, before the guards started making their rounds.

He pulled out the parchment Caius had given him, the ink slightly smeared from the dampness of the rain. The address was clear enough: a small, nondescript building tucked between the grand halls of the university. It was a risky move, but he had come too far to turn back now.

After 20 minutes of searching, he reached the small, unassuming building that matched the description on the parchment. It was a two-story structure with ivy climbing up the side, obscuring the windows. The door was sturdy, but not particularly well-guarded. He tested it, and to his surprise, it swung open with only a slight protest.

„Everything about it is strange... Why is this particular building so poorly protected?"

Inside, the scent of old parchment and candle wax filled the air. He moved through the darkness, his eyes adjusting to the dim light. The first floor was a cluttered mess of books and scrolls, with shelves lining the walls and a large table in the center, covered in open tomes and quills. A single candle flickered in the corner, casting shadows that danced on the ceiling.

A creaking sound echoed from upstairs, and Aldwyn tensed, his hand tightening around the grip of his blade. He crept up the narrow staircase, each step groaning under his weight. At the top, he found a hallway with three doors. The first two were closed, but the third stood slightly ajar, a sliver of light spilling into the corridor.

He approached the door and pressed his ear to the wood, listening intently. He could hear the murmur of voices, hushed and urgent. One probably belonged to Lemuel, the other was unknown to him. His heart raced as he prepared himself for what was to come.

With a swift, silent motion, Aldwyn pushed the door open, revealing a dimly lit room. Lemuel was there, his eyes wide with surprise as he looked up from a scroll he had been reading. His companion, a young scholar with spectacles and a trembling hand, took a step back, his eyes darting to the swords at Aldwyn's side.

"Who are you?" Lemuel demanded, his voice quavering slightly.

Aldwyn stepped into the room, his twin blades glinting in the candlelight. "I am the one who has come to silence your heresy," he replied, his voice devoid of emotion.

Lemuel's eyes narrowed, and he pushed himself away from the table, knocking over a pile of scrolls. "You're one of them," he spat. "A tool of the regime, sent to suppress the truth."

„If he only knew that I don't give a damn... I just want to 'unlock' the Assassin's Path as quickly as possible." Aldwyn thought in silence.

The young scholar's hand trembled even more, and he looked as if he might faint. Aldwyn stepped closer, his blades reflecting the flickering candlelight.

The young scholar's eyes widened in terror, his voice a mere squeak as he tried to find the words to plead for his life. "P-please," he stuttered, "I-I don't know anything!"

Aldwyn looked at him, „Damn why does this young guy have to be here. Wrong place at the wrong time."

Lemuel, however, stood firm, his eyes flashing with defiance. "You'll never find what you seek," he said, his voice low and intense. "The knowledge we hold is sacred, and it will not be silenced by the likes of you."

Aldwyn's gaze was cold and unwavering. He knew that time was against him, and he couldn't afford to get bogged down in a philosophical debate. Without a word, he lunged forward, his twin blades slicing through the air.

The young scholar's scream was cut short as Aldwyn's blades found their mark, and Lemuel's body crumpled to the floor, a crimson pool spreading out around him. The scholar's eyes went wide with horror, his hand reaching for a hidden dagger at his waist, but it was too late.

Aldwyn stepped back, his breaths coming in short gasps. He had done it. The deed was done, and the heretic lay dead at his feet. He didn't feel any remorse.

The young scholar was trembling, his eyes locked on the lifeless body of his mentor. "Wh-what do you want?" he stuttered, a dagger clutched in his hand.

Aldwyn looked over at him, „I'm afraid he also has to die, an assassin can't leave any witnesses, nor can he take the risk of being recognized. Even if I tried to blackmail him, it would be against the principles of an assassin."

Without hesitation, Aldwyn raised his blade and brought it swiftly to the scholar's throat, ending his life as quickly and cleanly as he had with Lemuel. The room fell into a silence that was eerily punctuated by the rain outside.

This time Aldwyn feels strange, unlike when he killed Lemuel. He had killed someone who still had a future, someone that had nothing to do with this.