Chapter 4
“Samuel. Oi. Wake up. It’s time to go to work.” Angeline stands at the side of her companion with her hands on her hips as she casts a frown at his preferred sleeping-pose. Seated on the floor, back propped up against the wall, left arm resting against the corresponding raised knee, and his chin almost touching his chest. He could fall asleep within moments of closing his eyes, but only when he was in that position. He wouldn’t even accept a cushion to sit on… merely saying that this felt ‘natural’…
Raising his head up and taking a look around the reception-area, the wiry confidant finds a pair of oil-lamps at either end of the space already lit to dispel the gloom brought by the almost completely-set sun outside, then offers a small nod to the previous demand. “Yes, Mistress.”
“I’ll make some tea… it’ll be a long night. Go get changed and check your equipment.” The golden-haired caster whirls on a heel and makes her way over towards a wet-bar to light a small burner beneath a new copper kettle.
Pulling himself up from the floor, the long-haired male plods into the bedroom, and collects his small valise from beside the wardrobe before bringing it over to the un-kempt mattress. Throwing the case open, he pulls out his supple leather boots, padded leather armour, then lifts out a quartet of daggers, each of various forms, functions, and lengths, all secure in their various sheathes.
Everything was painted or stained a matte-black, to reduce any reflections from surrounding light-sources. Both he and his Master had been completely shocked to discover these items in the hotel room that he had apparently booked before pushing a twenty-calibre iron ball through his grey-matter. Yet, after the merest of touches against the haft of one of the curved knives, a cold realization had seeped into his being. These items were most certainly his own… and the only link he had to his past. The dark leather shirt and leggings were form-fitting, comfortable, and well worn. The blades fit his fingers perfectly, and without any conscious thought whatsoever, his hands could seek out vital kill-zones in half the time it would take the human brain to register movement…
It frightened him to the very essence of his soul to think that he so readily knew how to end an existence. That fear seemed to be ingrained. As if he knew the true value of a human life. But why he would feel so anxious about terminating a person still eluded him. These items were certainly borne of an assassin… as were the reflexes and combat forms that came so naturally to him. But the fear. Why the fear?
The one odd piece of equipment that he had was a four-pronged grappling hook topping a thirty-foot length of blackened hemp rope. He hadn’t been able to understand why he might need it… until his Mistress had first suggested that he try using it. He didn’t know who was the most shocked between the two of them after finding out that he could scale a three-storey, stone-walled structure in less than three seconds…
One moment, he’d been merely standing at the base of the building looking up at the roofline high overhead, and the next thing he knew, he was sprinting up the side of the wall, using the hook against any the smallest of overhangs to propel himself further and faster towards his destination. He hadn’t even needed to throw the grapple, which would be the most common way of utilizing the tool. But standing on top of the ledge, looking down at his Mistress on the street below… he could only feel a sense of peaceful pride. As if his body was trying to tell him that this kind of thing was well within his normal scope of abilities… and that he should take full advantage of his talents at every opportunity…
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Aegis and Order: First Light
Fantasy"It’s shoulders were wide and powerful. At four metres in height, it was almost as large across as it was tall. The arms of the hulking beast hung nearly all the way to the ground, and were thick with rope-like muscles that bulged with even the sl...
