Uncertainty

I could feel my heart drop as I watched them emerge, like molases pouring off of a spoon. If I thought we where in trouble before, I knew we where doomed now. Battling a low ranking Knight with a scout was one thing. I could easily over power them myself even in my injured state. But highly trained assassins is a completely different subject. There had to have been at least 12 unidentified men, swords already poised at the ready. Silently eager to drag their swords into our bodies with only but a word.

"You talk big for a coward. You couldn't take care of the situation yourself, so you hired someone else to do your dirty work. How original." Nicklos said with a dry smirk. I couldn't help but nod in solemn agreement.

"You see it as over kill, but I see it as making sure the job gets done. Do you know how annoying it is when you catch on to things quickly and I have to replan everything? Enjoy your new friends Alliah." Uriah turned on the ball of his foot, throwing his hand in the air as he waved, and disappeared through the throng of men. Nathaniel was close behind him. Although I could understand Uriah's need to betray my Kingdom, I couldn't exactly understand Nathaniel's. Not only did he betray me, he claimed he killed his own brother too.

This whole situation was becoming really bizarre. At least I knew they 'why' of my problems. But I was still in a spot where I couldn't solve it quickly. The whom was still a mystery, and the only clue I had, was the letter I on the letter that the mercenary had when he tried to flee his camp. What's the most disheartening, was that I was also being blamed for the wrong doings my father made so long ago. I wasn't ever given the chance to redeem myself no matter how hard I actually tried. I was going to inherit the kingdom with so many enemies I didn't even know we had.

What's even more unfair, was that everyone around me, was being targeted by affiliation. It's obviously meant to sway people in joining me in an alliance. I was associated with death or problems, and our neighboring allies wouldn't want to get involved knowing that they would become targets as well. I was really finding myself to be in quite the pickle. I was from the very start.

"I've been waiting for this day for a long time." A raspy man croaked as he slowly paced forward. Even with the mask covering his face, I could still imagine the cringy grin upon his face. Nicklos unwrapped his arm from my waist, leaving me to balance on my own as he readied his blade. Marquise also unsheathed his blade, violently cutting the air, displaying his precise attacks as a warning. I could hear the gentle scrapping noises of Michael and Seria's blades as they too, readied themselves for battle.

"It's only unfortunate that this will be the last time you wield a sword. To take down a Knight is no easy feat. I would recommend that you retreat now while you still have your heads." I skillfully flicked my blade, ready for the anticipated attack from the men behind him. Their bodies where starting to slowly crouch, as if they where going to lunge.

The air was becoming tense now. Still, yet crackling with the angry energy erupting from each and every person crowding the field. The hostility was like a wild blazing fire, waiting for the wind to give it the slightest push to make it a forest fire. With every twitch, every couch, and every panting breath, the flames where fueled, and the impatience only grew. What where they honestly waiting for. For assassins they weren't exactly following protocal very well. From past stories I was told, they never showed their faces. They hid well, stuck quietly, and left before the scene exploded. So what where they doing showing themselves and waiting here before us?

"Kill them." The one man who advanced towards us commanded. With just those two words, the whole scene erupted. Metal clashed against metal, filling the area with screeching metal. I grunted angrily as I met my blade with another. His swings where choppy and sloppy as he swung towards my body, head, and any place he honestly thought could throw me off. It was almost to easy to parry his attacks, making him stagger backwards every time. This man had no proper training at all as he continued to swing at me, and always missing his hits.

I waited for him to draw his blade above his head before giving him a solid kick to the chest, and bringing my sword around to strike him in the chest. It sliced cleanly through his leather jacket, causing him to hiss as blood spurted from the wound. He staggered backwards from the attack, grabbing at his chest as he regained his footing on the ground. Spatting curse words, he came charging at me again, swinging his sword as fast as he could, landing more sloppy counterattacks. I winced every time as he quietly drove me backwards, my leg flaring up from the arrow still embedded in the flesh.

Every step felt like a scrapping feeling, irritating and annoying as pain continued to course up and down my leg and to my hip. It didn't help that the fabric of my pants kept getting snagged on the wooden shaft I had broken off earlier. Seeing me faulter, he took this opportunity to lunge towards me, screaming angrilly as he placed all his weight down on one leg. Time seamed to slow once more as I watched him lean forward, blade coming from around his back, and aiming directly towards my head.

This idiot was promised a victory he never had a chance on winning. There was no military training backing his determination to kill me. Only vengence, pain, and anger. I almost felt bad for killing him, knowing that he was mislead. So, just like I had done a thousand times, I side stepped his attack, and brought my blade down upon his back. It easily passed through the sinal cord, severing it with one quick slash. Another angry and painful gasp escaped his mouth as he collapsed to the ground, a blood pooling around his body like a waterfall. Felling a bit merciful, I lopped off his head with a skillful flick of my blade. It rolled to one side, the hood rolled back to reveal the horror and anguish evident upon his face.

Unease mixed with nausea filled me. Out of all my years on the field, I think this is the one that made me feel the worse. Although this was their choice to make, and they knew the consequences of their actions, they still didn't have a proper way to defend themselves. I don't know what was said to this man to make him so desperate to act, but killing him didn't feel right nonetheless. No amount of experience, made me ready for this moment. I guess in a way, this is what made me different than my father. Where he showed no remorse, I felt like a horrible villian.

I stared into the glassy eyes of the fallen assassin, I could only see myself. The way I stood over him, sullen and shaken. Pale white skin spattered with blood from the enemy, a slightly sunken in face with dark circles around my eyes from the many nights of restless sleep. This battle was wearing me down, and I could not only see it, but I could feel it too. So many lies, secrets, and betrayals. Now here I was, being forced to clean up the mess that my father and his father before him created. I don't even think that in this lifetime, I could fix everything that has been broken.

I pulled my eyes away, tired of looking at how exhausted I looked. The scene before me made me feel no better as I watched more bodies fall at the feet of my comrades. They where too caught up in the moment, fear pushing them take advantage of the situation. I don't even think they fully realize how messed up this was. But I did know that, I would do everything in my power, to set things right once this whole ordeal was over. Even if it took me the rest of my life to do so.