There are some things that people should never witness.

The bloody murder of ones parents, the

disembowelment of a beloved pet. Your own murder. Those are terribly messy events that inevitably
scar our minds and bodies. Its interesting, the consequences of such actions. And that is where my
story begins.
We need you to do a job
The light breeze ruffled through the trees outside the guild grounds. The polished slate table
reflecting the sun into the eyes of the person sitting opposite me, making him squint. I stared at him
over the rim of my glass. Enjoying the fact of the cold water I was drinking, looked so much like
the noxious local liquor.
It will require all your skills at deception
So what is this...task going to cost me. The man asked, he was balding and slightly overweight.
All in all looking like the stereotypical guild patriarch he was supposed to be.
Nobody messes with the Lithic without either extremely large balls, or a death wish. I replied
evenly.
They told me you could do any job. That you didn't afraid of no one...I mean, aren't afraid of
anything. The Legendary Laiken. I smiled to myself. Little trips like that told me I was still on the
top of my game. Also confirming my suspicions that, he was simply an underling, hired to act as a
double.
This job will cement your name into the annals of history.
I CAN do any job. I just hope you know exactly who you are dealing with. I smiled, as I took the
coin I had left on the table and flipped it between my fingers. A job like this, will cost a lot of
money. And of course I will have to meet with your patriarch. The man visibly paled, and my smile
grew wider. Now go take your pale ass away, before I lodge this coin between your eyes, and tell
your master that I do not deal with gutter-rats.
You stupid fool
The man went red with anger, and stood up with a huff, sending the chair rattling to the ground
behind him. You swine! How dare you insult the... I sent the coin flying without a second
thought, lodging it firmly between the mans eyes, so deep that only the edge was showing.
I returned to my drink when a laugh behind me caught my attention.
You really are The legendary Laiken aren't you? A deeply masculine voice boomed behind me.
You will DIE here!
And who might I ask, am I speaking too? I replied without turning around.
My master is willing to make a deal with you. Meet him by the docks, two hours. Warehouse 43.
Of course. I am assuming this man is the real Patriarch.
You assume right. I hope you won't disappoint us. I spun around and there was no one behind me,
this was going to be interesting I thought to myself as I finished my water.
Look at you Laiken, bleeding on the floor. Like the pitiful rat you really are. FINISH HIM!.
That night, I watched myself die. In terrible agony. There are few things in life we should never
have to experience. And I just experienced one of them. I was the only witness to my murder.
Everyone knew the Lithic organised it, everyone suspected the Orons paid for it, everyone thought

the Ithany did it. Only I knew the truth.

I am truly sorry lad.
But that night I experienced the worst pain of my life. Its a remarkable feeling, death. Its hard to
describe. But, perhaps I shouldn't start there. The only thing I know for certain, is I didn't die that
night. Not truly, I still haven't found an answer, but I think my mind refused to die, so scarred and
broken, that another crack did nothing. Life certainly has a sick sense of humour sometimes, and
that night, it truly dawned on me just how sick it could be. So let me start at the beginning.

Laiken sweetie, come away from the door

I guess I was just like every other little boy. Adoring my father. Loving my mother. Friends. Pets.
All in all, we were fairly well off. It took me a long time to work out what my father did, and why
that man showed up on our doorstep that fateful Autumn day. I remember the smell of the flowers,
in their last bloom before the snows. The taste of the wind, the feel of the cool sunlight upon my
pale skin. But alas, like everything else. It came to an abrupt end.
Good Afternoon Sir, how can I help you?
My mothers voice was like music to my young ears. But something was wrong, I could tell. There
was an unheard of tension in that house that I had never felt before. The man was tall, dark,
mysterious. I am ashamed to admit I was afraid. I think it was the first time in my life I had felt fear.
I hid behind my mothers skirts.
Laiken, sweetie, go fetch your father.
The man spoke quietly and I couldn't hear what exactly he had said. But I fled from the room like a
beaten hound, tail tucked firmly between my legs. Figuratively of course. My father spent most of
his time out the back, making furniture, staining wood, carving toys for me and the other children. I
always remember him as a good man, even though I have all the evidence now to the contrary.
LEAVE ME ALONE!
I remember that terrible scream and the sound of broken glass. My father told me to stay put as he
ran towards the house. I still dont know, to this day whether it was bravery, or stupidity that made
me follow after my father. But follow him I did. The tangy smell of blood wafted through the air as
I entered the room. My father stopped firmly in his tracks at the sight that appeared in our living
room.
You are too long Delinquent on your debt Stell.
My mother lay under the mans boot. Blood trickling from the side of her mouth, the vase that had
for as long as I could remember, sat beside our door, lay smashed on the ground beside her. I
remember my father shaking with rage, it was only then that I noticed the red stain spreading from
my mothers stomach. It all happened so fast.
Its time for you to pay with blood.
My mother died under his heel. A knife flew from the mans belt without so much as a fling of his
arm, to embed itself in my father. I remember screaming, and everything shaking in the house, as
my father died. I sometimes wonder what it would have been like if they weren't killed. But as a
child, that is one of the things you should never see.
I am sorry lad, but I don't get paid to leave survivors
Everything blacked out after that, the next think I knew, the man was standing over me, a bemused
smile and a spreading bruise over his temple. Everything was still fuzzy, but my parents were gone.
The blood stains on the floor the only physical evidence that remained of the events that had just
transpired. One thing I will never forget though, is that bastards laugh.

You are lucky lad, you just survived your own execution.
That was the first scar my mind ever endured, but it sure as hell was not the last. From that moment
on, I lived in eternal hatred of the man who had shattered my childhood. Thrown me to the dogs.
And almost killed me on numerous occasions. Funnily enough, that man was also the only person
who ever believed I could become the best.
Now follow me boy, unless you want to die
All I can say is, what other choice did a traumatised orphan have in that situation, other then to
follow the best assassin in Arkas, out of that house and into his terrifying new life.

A strange smell stagnated around the compound as Laiken and the murderer of his family walked
through the halls. Still numb from shock, Laiken followed the man meekly, through a large arched
door. Inside, sat the council of nine, high above the ground, looking down upon the rest of the room
with a frown. Before they could reach the centre of the room, a loud voice boomed. What is the
meaning of this Doyle?
I must admit its strange
Laiken shrunk at the authority and practised disapproval that radiated from the voice, while Doyle
seemed to stand a little taller. My apologies my lords. But something came up during the job.
Doyle said evenly.
Does that mean you failed to complete the job? Another voice boomed.
No, those contracted to be disposed of, have been disposed of.
And the rest of the family? A third voice responded.
That the only reason I survived
I am afraid that is where the problem lies my lord.
And what problem would that be Doyle? A female voice replied.
This child is to become my apprentice. Doyles' announcement was received with what Laiken
perceived as a stunned silence, but was much more sinister.
What is the meaning of this? Another different voice replied.
He is under my protection now, and you shall not touch him.
Was a natural gift that I hadn't even known I had
You shall do as we say Doyle. A sixth voice, joining the conversation.
I have done as you have said my lords.
No, we told you to leave no witnesses. A seventh voice, slightly higher then all the rest.
And, as you can see, I did not leave any witnesses. I brought the witness with me. Doyle said with
a smile.
That is not what we meant assassin The eighth voice spat the word assassin out as if it were
venom.
Then perhaps you should not leave things open to interpretation my lord. Doyle replied with a
smile obvious in his tone.
Turned out to be both a gift.
Perhaps, we should listen to what this young man has to say. So tell me my son, what it is that has
caused both us and you so much trouble. Said the ninth and final member of the council, a slightly
withered old man with a piercing gaze.
My lord, this boy has a gift.
What gift would that be Doyle?
The gift. He has the same gift as I do. The gift of Motukine. I do not know how powerful it is.
And a curse.
And why would you protect this child? It was purely the old man talking to them now.
Because, for one, I am not sure I can. If he is more powerful then me, then I wouldn't be able to
kill him if I tried. If it isn't, then he is not a threat to us in anyway. There is no point in wasting
potential talent. Silence followed the faint echo of Doyle's admission. After what seemed like
forever to Laikens' mind, the silence was finally broken by the old gentleman.

We have decided, that you show prudence in your wisdom regarding this boy, as well as arrogance
and insubordination in the way you have presented him to us. The boy will live, but he will not be
your apprentice. And you will be punished.
Motukine, the power over Kinetic energy. That is supposedly what makes me special
No. This boy cannot be taught what he needs to know by anyone but me. Doyle shouted.
Why, Mr Doyle, is that?
Because, I am the only other person in this city that has this power. Like my master before me.
This is the first time the gift has occurred naturally in someone in over 1000 years. As you know.
We are well aware of this tradition. But traditions can be broken Mr Doyle.
Here is something you might well not be aware of my lord. This gift, if not taught properly, will
cause untold damage to everything around it. The energy builds up inside, until it escapes, in
anyway it can. A touch, could topple a building, if this boy is as gifted as I think he is. A kick, could
send a catapult stone further then you could shoot one. This is something I have been sworn not to
reveal except in dire circumstances. You must understand my lord. There, is, no one else.
What ultimately became the reason that they tried to destroy me.
Silence once again filled the chamber, as the Council of Nine took the time to absorb this. Doyle
stood there patiently until finally, the older gentleman leaned forward. And you, boy. How do you
feel about this? He said addressing Laiken. When no reply came, the old man nodded. Did you
kill his parents in front of the child Doyle?
Yes, my lord. I did not expect to be taking on an apprentice.
We will give you his apprenticeship. But, you will still need to be punished. I will let the Ithany
know of our decision.
Thank you my lord. Doyle looked relieved as he turned and guided Laiken out the door.
And ultimately, will be how I will destroy them.

Sitting in a dingy underground tavern, Laiken sat staring into his morbidly into his cup. The air
hung listless around the only two in the tavern, smelling slightly or rot, mould and rats. A women
sat opposite Laiken, a stark contrast to her male counterpart. Black hair, pale skin, light loose fitting
clothes, and slightly reddish eyes stared intently across the table, waiting for him to continue.
Laiken brushed his blond hair out of his violet eyes and turned his piercing gaze upon her.
What do you think it means to be an assassin?
I am sorry for your loss. The lady said softly,
To be honest, I dont really remember my parents, that much. Laiken said with a sigh.
Neither do I. Silence filled the space between them again, as they each were lost in thought.
Do you know the funny thing? The only thing that helped me through everything was hatred. But,
the thing I hated I think, is the person who loved me most.
Tell me more about Doyle. She asked
Do you think it just means to kill?
Laiken stared back down into his drink, considering how to reply. Doyle, is probably the best man
and worst man I have ever met.
What do you mean?
Its hard to explain Sarah. He was a cold blooded killer. But he wasn't cruel. He always did things
quickly, cleanly, easily. He told me once that he doesn't take pleasure in killing. And he is willing to
condemn himself for every person he kills, and take that burden for the greater good.
Sounds complicated.
Do you think that to take a life should be meaningless?
He was anything but simple. Every atrocious thing he did, he felt he had a noble reason for. Or at
least, he thought he had a noble reason.
And what about you Laiken, do you have a noble reason?
No. There is never anything noble in killing. I am not a noble person. I am what I was created to
be. Nothing more, nothing less.
What were you created to be?
You are a fool.
I was created to be the best killer this city has ever known. Laiken smiled ruthlessly, Turns out, I
haven't quite achieved that yet.
Then how do you live with killing all those people?
I know, that one day, the list of people I have killed, will include those who created me.
You really do have a one track mind dont you? Sarah smiled with blood red lips, revealing
slightly pointed white teeth.
We do not kill because we are better.
I've never thought of it like that, but I guess I do. Laiken shook his head slightly,
What will you do after you have completed your 'Noble' quest of killing? When you have reached
the end of that path, what option will you take at the crossroads?
There is nothing noble about my quest, I thought I made that clear. No, this is vengeance, pure and
simple.
And after? Sarahs head tilted slightly
There will not be an after

We do not kill because we can.

But if there is?
What do you want me to say Sarah?
Nothing, I want you to believe you are better then this.
You want me to not go after them?
I want you to be happy Laiken. Not dead. If you have to take this self destructive path, please leave
us something to rebuild you from.
We do not kill for money.
Doyle once told me, that once we set foot on the path of death, there is no escape until we reach
the end of the path. The end of our lives. He gave me the option, afterward the meeting with the
Council of the Nine. To leave. He would train me, and then say my body couldn't handle it. And
hide me away where the Ithany could never touch me.
Why did you step onto that path?
At the time, it felt like the right thing to do. I wanted to kill Doyle, and the only way I could think
to do it, was to become Doyle's apprentice.
Tell me exactly what happened after your meeting with the council of the nine. What he did to
make you hate him so deeply.
We kill because it is right, because it is just.

The constant clang of metal permeated the surrounding silence, one figure dancing, pirouetting and
lightly springing around his younger and inexperienced opponent who barely managed to move the
blade in time to block the strikes. Laiken stood panting, dripping with sweat and blood mingled
together from the exertion and all the small cuts covering his body. Trophies of his mistakes. Doyle
continued dancing lightly around him, completely unmarked by the experience.
Motukine, is the ability to manipulate and store the levels of kinetic energy around us
The bruise on Doyles' temple had faded over the last week, but had been matched by an almost
identical one on Laikens' temple. Suddenly, Doyle feinted to the left, and struck a solid cut from the
right, before stepping back. A grin covered his face. We will continue in an hour. Doyle said
wiping the blade on a cloth he had pulled from his pocket. That dismissive comment hurt Laiken
more then any of the cuts that had been inflicted on his 7 year old body. Instead of stopping, he
rushed forward, and tried to swing at Doyle while he was unprepared.
This force sustains us, moves us, and once mastered, will give you abilities you would never have
imagined
Without concious thought, Doyle grabbed the blade, shattering it in his grip, and roughly shoving
Laiken away with an open palm blow to the sternum, sending him sliding along the floor gasping
for air. Don't presume to best me just yet lad. He said with a sigh, before turning on his heel and
walking off.
I... hate... you.. Laiken wheezed, as he struggled to get up,
You dont have to love me lad. All you have to do is listen, and learn. Doyle said without turning
around.
I will be the greatest assassin there ever was, and ever will be Laiken shouted back angrily, And
I will KILL YOU!
Keep hold of that lad. Impossible dreams are the best kind.
Master it, you can shatter blades, stop arrows, and destroy buildings with a touch.
Each day passed, and Laiken became stronger, surer, faster. He refused to be beaten by Doyle, and
every day was the same. Fighting skills and weapons training, rhetoric, history, language, stealth.
Everything except what Laiken wanted to learn. My lord. Laiken said without emotion, he had
learned the hard way that to disrespect Doyle led nowhere except trouble. You're main point of
taking me as an apprentice was to teach me how to use Motukine. When will we begin lessons?
Doyle frowned, You will learn Motukine when you are ready.
When will I be ready my lord?
When you learn to not ask stupid questions.
Let it master you and be destroyed by it.
When did you start learning it? Laiken asked, the animosity had decreased over the last few
months, although he never let go of the hatred he felt towards everyone who had a hand in creating
his current fate.
Let me show you something lad. Doyle stopped and turned to face Laiken, Open your shirt.
Slowly Laiken opened his shirt, revealing the slight indentation of a hand print he had gotten off
Doyle days after his training, had begun. Doyle followed suit, revealing a slightly smaller but as
clearly defined hand print in the same place. This is a lesson you need to remember lad, when you
bite off more then you can chew it never ends well.. Don't ever forget, that anger and haste will get
you killed.

You have a gift, that many people would sell their souls for.
I am ready, my lord.
What is your dream lad? Doyle asked with a resigned sigh.
To be the best assassin there ever was, and kill you.
How can you kill me, if you foolishly kill yourself first.
I wont die.
You will. I have seen what this gift does to someone who isn't ready. It took us months to remove
the stains. Laiken physically paled, and Doyle smiled encouragingly. When you are ready, I will
know. First we need to train your mind, body and emotions. Why do we kill? Doyle changed the
subject so swiftly that Laiken was caught unprepared.
We kill because it is within our power to do so.
Do not waste it on petty things.
Laiken didnt see the hand coming, until he felt the force of the blow on the back of his head.
Wrong. We do not kill because we can. We kill because it is necessary. Because we have no choice.
Because it has to be done.
Yes, my lord. Doyle turned and drew his blade, turning to face his adversary.
You will be remembered forever lad. But whether as saviour or destroyer. That is up to you.

The night air was cold against Laiken's face, as he looked down upon the crowded street below. The
founding festival of the city was always a big event. A chance for everyone in Arkas to wear masks,
to mingle with each other, without factional, racial or social prejudice. It truly was a remarkable
sight to behold, but Laikens' eyes kept scanning the crowds. Searching,
No, please, I had nothing to do with it!
Somewhere in the crowd, a glint of red caught his eyes through the golden mask he was wearing.
The wind catching his cloak making it billow out behind him. The only information he had been
given, was a face, and to collect the finger and signet ring of his target. No names, to go off. And
the face almost completely useless on tonight, as everyone was hiding their true faces behind plaster
reflections. Smiling to himself, Laiken jumped off the roof, and silently landed in the alley beside
the building.
I will tell you whatever you want to know!
The sound of bards and troupers singing, dancing and acting in the streets was almost drowned out
by the background noise of the crowd meaning only those who were closest to the performers could
actually hear what was going on. The man was a little further ahead of Laiken as he started to move
with almost feline grace swiftly through the crowd. Slowly, as he made ground on his quarry, the
man stopped and turned to watch some troupers act out a play.
Just please don't kill me.
The man was dressed in a dark red outfit almost the colour of blood, with a striped masked to match
the black colour of his hair and his clothes. The mask was a close representation of a tiger with the
colours altered. The play that had caught his attention, had two people on a slightly raised dais. One
was dressed to represent the founder of the Umbra faction, Necropolis with a pale white mask and
sanguine robes, while the other was dressed as Link Orons in highly decorated armour. Lo, behold,
the Sorcerer of Deaths constructions! Orons shouted.
I swear you will pay for this!
Umbra stood stock still, booed, some in disdain for Necropolis who is the villain of this particular
act, or because of disdain for Orons. Lo, behold. The fool of life's construction Umbra replied.
Laiken stopped next to the man who's attention was encapsulated by the play unfolding in front of
him. Laiken remembered the play as act 2 of the founding of the city of Arkas, and the factions
involved. Ever child knew the story of the city, as well as the nature of the factions within them, the
Umbra and Orons racial feuds over the years, and how neither side is necessarily evil. You will
always be a villain in someone else's story.
You cannot stop them!
The act ended 10 minutes later, with Umbra driving the wooden stake meant for him into Orons
heart. But due to the respect for their decade long feud and the man he had been feuding with,
Umbra stood vigil over the body of his fallen enemy, until the battle ended with the break of day,
and the Oron forces, in defeat, came to gather their fallen ruler. The trouper who was playing
Umbra then turned to face the crowd. For even the great must die. In that, we are alike you and I.
They will kill you again and again until you never return
The crowd applauded and the metallic clink of coins raining on the dais could be heard as Orons

and Umbra bowed deeply to their audience, before departing. Laiken turned and grabbed his quarry
on the arm, whispering in his ear. We need to talk. In private. With a silent nod, the man turned
and walked through the crowd, Laiken following in his wake, but Laiken couldn't shake the feeling
he was being watched, as he made his way through the crowd.
That is where you are wrong. I can not fail.
They made their way to an empty street, not far from the street that was hosting the celebration.
Laiken kept glancing around nervously, feeling like he was being stalked. The man looked around
looking nervous. Do you have the stuff?
Laiken hesitated briefly before answering, Yes, but I need to check that you are my buyer. Can you
remove your mask please?
Without hesitation the man revealed his face, the perfect replication of the image he had been given.
There was a dull thud behind them, but Laiken paid it no heed. That was his first mistake.
I will not fail.
There was a sharp pain in his ear, and the man in front of him fell to the ground. His mask pinned to
his chest, probably saving his life, or just ending it slower. Laiken turned around too slowly, before
he fell to the ground, pain flashing across his face. Standing above him was an older boy, one of the
other assassins apprentices Well, if it isn't our little slum dog. Thanks for doing the hard work for
me.
Shut up Rankin Laiken snapped as he got up and dropped into a fighting pose.
Oh well, it looks like the Slum Dog has grown teeth. Lets see if they are sharp Rankin said
drawing a dagger.
I will become the best assassin.
The battle was over before it began. Rankin slipped past Laiken, kicking him from behind onto the
ground, and cutting off the dying mans' finger, drawing a scream out of the victim, as he ran past
laughing. Laiken cursed and leaned down to the man, and whispered I am sorry. before driving
the dagger down into his heart. Ending his life quickly. Laiken was shaking, as he turned to chase
after Rankin, but after a few minutes, the trail had gone cold. Laiken turned and vomited.
And I will kill you
Doyle appeared from a dark alley, stopped in front of him. Laiken vomited again and Doyle knelt
down and patted his back. Its all right lad, you did the right thing.
Then why does it feel so wrong. Laiken asked quietly
Because it is unnatural. But you made me proud tonight. You didn't leave your target suffering, and
you finished him quickly, cleanly and fairly. That shows more about you then single mindedly
finishing the mission. The most important thing is, that we do not leave loose ends.
Does it ever get easier?
Frighteningly quickly Lad. But I think you are finally ready.
I will never stop.

Laiken took a deep drink from his tankard and refused to meet Sarahs eyes, while her red eyes
glittered curiously, observing him from across the table. Did it get easier? She asked quietly.
Laikens violet eyes conveyed incalculable sadness. Frighteningly easy.
What did Doyle mean when he said, 'you are finally ready'
That I was finally ready to begin my training in Motukine. Laiken got up and refilled his tankard,
and sat back down again.
How does it work? Sarah asked,
There are ten factions within Arkas.
Laiken took the knife out of his belt, and handed it handle first to Sarah, and placed his hand on the
table. Stab me.
Sarahs eyes opened, What?!
Stab me Sarah.
Why?
You wanted to know how Motukine works. Im giving you a demonstration. Stab me.
Sarah hesitated for another few seconds, Are you sure?
Just do it.
Sarah bright the knife up, and brought it down swiftly.
Umbra, a family of Vampires with the ability to use Mortem to speak to and control the dead.
The knife stopped with only the point touching Laikens skin. Smiling, Laiken brought his hand up
and wriggled his fingers, illustrating that his hand is undamaged. Sarah grabbed his hand and turned
it over checking it was undamaged. But how?
Pass me the knife. As soon as Laiken got his hands back on the knife, he slashed straight down
and cut a sliver off the corner of the 3 inch thick table as if it was butter.
But...How?
Motukine
Orons, a bunch of crusader scholars. The closest thing Arkas has to an officialreligion.
Motukine, is the ability to store and release kinetic energy at will. Laiken said, slipping the knife
back in his belt.
Then how did you do that? Sarah asked.
When you stabbed me, I absorbed the impact of the knife. Making it useless.
Then, how did...
Get murdered? Laiken shrugged, I knew the man who stabbed me, he has the same power as me,
making it useless.
Ithany, they are the Assassins and Spies of Arkas, available to anyone who can afford their
services.
Was it the Ithany? Sarah enquired.
Enough, lets talk about something else. Laiken replied.
What would you like to talk about?
Nexus.
Everyone knows that Nexus is a fairy tale, used to scare children into behaving
Bullshit. Both of us know that.
What do you want me to say Laiken?
The truth. I think I have earned that much

Lithic, the telepathic law of the city. Commanded and led by the Council of Nine.
What is Nexus? Laiken asked,
Nexus is the true power of this city. Sarah replied uncomfortably.
Who are they?
They are everyone. The underpaid, the slaves, the poor. The disenfranchised masses. The very
people the other factions forget about.
Why did they bring me here. To you. Laiken asked, but Sarah looked away.
Vis Vires, are the order to the law. They enforce all mandates set by the Lithic.
Because, I thought you could help us. Sarah responded quietly.
Who is us?
Nexus.
Laiken spat out his drink in shock, YOU'RE IN NEXUS?
Yes...
But, your a member of Umbra.
Nexus doesn't discriminate, against their members.
Mundus, are the freaks of Arkas, some more plant then anything else.
What is it you want me to help with Sarah? Laiken said after several minutes of awkward silence.
I want you to learn what we are, and what we want.
To what end?
I cannot tell you. Im sorry Laiken, I dont know if I can trust you with Nexus's biggest secret.
So you expect me to agree to help you, when I do not know what it is I am helping you with.
I am sorry Laiken.
Solinus, The true arcane faction, who accepts almost all users of magic within Arkas.
The tension within the room was so think, it could be cut by a knife, as Laiken scanned the room
slowly with trained eyes. We aren't alone here are we?
Will you help us?
Do I have any choice? as soon as the words left his mouth. Laiken regretted them, The footsteps
echoed down from the floor above them, as they approached the stairs. What is this?
As I said, I am truly sorry. Sarah said quietly.
Dressed from head to toe in an expensive black suit, the man stopped at the bottom of the stairs,
Im sorry my young friend, but you do not have a choice.
Daemns, are the secondary religion within Arkus, more of an organised criminal organisation and
a cult then anything else.
Laiken almost fainted at the Legendary figure standing in front of him. Straightening his neck tie,
the new comer took a courteous bow, Mr Loup Garou, at your service.
You should be dead. Laiken visibly paled.
And so should you my lad, but lets not get into a pissing match. His slightly elongated canine face
stretched into a smile,
Now dog boy, lets not get too ahead of ourselves. A disembodied voice echoed from the corners
of the room followed by a deeper shadow detaching itself from the corner. Stepping forward, a
vampire dressed in white, stepped forward, making Laiken wonder just how he had remained
hidden.

Erratum, are the self called 'scientists' of Arkas, more like madmen without eyebrows
You are dismissed Sarah. We shall take it from here. The figure in white said, and Sarah
disappeared into the shadows. And no ease dropping, or I'll show you the true meaning of the
wrath of your elders
Welcome, death breath, didn't think you would make it. The werewolf smiled even wider,
Laiken, might I introduce you to the even more legendary and dashing figure then myself. The one
and only lord of the death breaths. Necropolis Umbra Loups words were saturated with sarcasm,
but none the less had their desired effect.
You should both be dead. You existed thousands of years ago. You should be nothing more then
legends.
Like Nexus itself I guess. Necropolis said with a faint smile, But first off, you must have
questions.
Garou, the anarchist faction, they dispise all laws, and feel we should be free to live how we
choose

The moon in the sky shone with a light that was not blinding, but light enough to make out every
detail of the landscape spanning between the opposing forces. The faint lights of Arkas twinkling in
the background as Necropolis Umbra stood on a plateau, dressed head to toe in black plated armour.
The sight before him was worrying, for standing between him and the salvation for his people, was
the Orons Army. Led by none other then the chosen of God himself, Link Orons.
Vampires are evil? Humans are the chosen of god?
Necropolis sighed, as he turned around, his second in command was standing at attention in
matching armour to him. The only difference, the sword at her hip, being a miniature of the great
sword strapped to his back. Do you think we can make it my lord? She asked, brushing hair as
black as the night around her out of her eyes.
I honestly don't know, my dear. If we can, then we will pay for every inch with the blood and
bodies of our people. My family. Necropolis turned back to the impressive array of army in the
distance.
Every man we lose will give his strength back to the whole.
But is it worth the price. We may not win. And all the death and loss we have taken to get here will
be for nothing.
These terms have always been interchangeable through the course of history!
The idea of safety was enough for every man and woman here to follow you, through burning
sunlight, and endless nights. They have not given up faith.
I know that, and I love each and everyone of them for it. But we are not warriors. I only hope I
have done the right thing in bringing them here.
If you doubt yourself, my lord. Then your people will doubt you, and we will fail.
Necropolis sighed, weary of needless death, when all he truly wanted was life. Why do you think
they hate us so much?
Because we are different. And they fear us for it.
On one side children who have never seen peace. But have grown up with love.
You are right. What should I do? Save the lives of my sons and daughters. Or send most of them to
the eternal slumber, in the faint hope that one day, we can live in peace. Necropolis closed his eyes
for a moment, contemplating his choice.
Why don't we ask them, my lord.
His second in command turned on her heel, and went down to the lines of Vampire men and
women, preparing for war, signalling one to bring them all to attention. A few minutes passed, as
they all formed up, silent and weary. As Necropolis watch them all, he felt proud. Proud at who they
were, and what they had become. Pride and love, for each and every one of them.
On the other children who have never seen war. But grown up with hate.
Once the sound of clinking armour stopped, Necropolis stepped forward. My Brethren. Tonight, I
stand here, on the precipice of what will be our last battle. And I tell you, that it has been my
greatest privilege to lead you this far in our journey. But I have a decision to make. And it is a
decision I cannot make alone, because it affects all of us. My children, we have travelled, far, and
the end is in sight. But I cannot ask any more of you to give up your lives for my dream. So I ask
everyone of you. What are you willing to do? Will you follow me one last time, knowing this could
be your last night? In the hopes of our clan finding peace within the walls of Arkas?.
Of course they will both consider right and wrong differently.

The crowd of vampires all cheered, and Necropolis's second in command came up and smiled,
Their home is wherever you are, my lord. This is what you do not understand about us.
Necropolis said nothing for a time, still concerned about the outcome, but the decision was no
longer in his hands. It would not be long now he knew, until things were finally decided. The
vampires, more confident, got ready with renewed vigour. And within an hour, the sound of drums
echoed through the chilly night air.
For it the decision of those who stand at the top to determine what is wrong and what is right.
Necropolis's blood soared at the sense of all the death surrounding him, renewing his strength, as
the Orons soldiers died, and his own troops sent their Mortem energies to their comrades with their
dying breaths. Although outnumbered, Umbras forces soon learned that each vampire was worth
more then any one man, except Link Orons. Wielding a sword and a white oak stake, Link was
dispatching the vampires with brutal ease and efficiency. With narrowing eyes, and blood coated
blade, Necropolis rushed across the battlefield, with unbelievable speed, splitting armour and bodies
as he passed.
But war, that is the neutral ground.
Necropolis and Link stood facing each other, the flash of blades, and high pitched clashes of metal.
You will not survive this Abomination. Link spat as he thrust past with the blade, and tried to
pirouette and stab the stake into Umbra's heart.
I am the abomination? You who turn our peaceful request of a home, within your walls, in return
for knowledge, skilled craftsmen and women. Into war. Who is the abomination?
Links eyes narrowed at the accusation, and attacked again, You who feeds on death and
misfortune, expect me to believe your kind are capable of peace?
I should never have expected it from your kind it seems.
God is with us. He gives me the power to strike you down monster.
You can say Justice and god are with you.
Monster I may be, but at least I still have compassion. Necropolis swung the blade down swiftly,
faster then Link could block, and with a dreadful snap, broke the seal of Links armour on his arm,
and the bone within. Orons screamed, and dropped the stake, which Necropolis snatched out of the
air before it struck the ground. I offer you a peaceful way out of this. Surrender, and let us live in
harmony. I beg of you.
Link spat, and tried one last desperate attempt to slay Umbra, but Orons was tired, and his
movement slowed by pain and exhaustion. Necropolis easily dodged, and brought the stake swiftly
up into his heart. I am sorry, but I must do this for my people.
But of course they are!
The battle raged on for the better part of an hour after Link Orons fell, for the battle to end.
Necropolis kneeled leaning with his sword buried into the ground, in front of his fallen adversary, as
his clan, gathered around him. Less then half the size of what it had been before this fatal conflict.
His people cheered his name, but Necropolis was weeping tears of blood. Every tear, a thank you
for the sacrifice of all his clan. Every man who died, Necropolis remembered. Eventually,
Necropolis ran out of tears, and addressed his clan. Gather a wagon, we are taking this hero, and
going to our new home.
Because whoever wins this war will become justice!

Necropolis and his people entered Arkas, under the fearful gaze of the population. Covered in
blood, and in the lead, Link Orons, still bloody from battle, was being led into the city. Not as a
trophy, but as an honoured victim of war, and a symbol of peace and harmony rather then war.
When Necropolis entered the city, he was met by Arkas Lithic, who bowed his head and put a hand
on Necropolis's shoulder as he knelt. Thank you, for bringing one of our cities greatest sons
home.
Necropolis looked up at Arkas Lithic, My people need a home, where we can live happily and
safely. Please, let there be no more bloodshed between our people, and let us help build the legend
that is the city of Arkas.
And becomes a god.

Loup Garou sniffed the air with his slightly elongated muzzle, and tasted the blood on the air. His
eyes shining in the light as he watched the battle between the shiny mass of soldiers, and the death
breathers. He sat down on his hunches and watched in silence, the deadly conflict that was playing
out in front of him. The battle was over quicker then he expected, and he didn't like the outcome,
the death breathers walked into the city without further impediment. Turning around, and racing
back down the hill on four legs, Loup rushed to tell his elders what he had seen.
Is it truly possible to destroy a monster?
Situated in the middle of the swampy forests surrounding Arkas, Loup transformed back into his
bipedal form, and approached the fire that marked the middle of his camp. The scent of roasting
meat making his mouth water, as he approached the silver haired wolves seated around it,
conversing in low voices. I have news.
Young one, we know what has happened.
Then you must know the consequences of what has happened.
We are well aware.
Well what are we going to do?
We shall do what we have always done. We shall leave them alone, and they shall leave us alone.
For in the process of destroying a monster.
Fools! Garou growled, They will not leave us alone.
We have done nothing to occur their wraith. Young one. In time, you will realise, that the best
course of action is the one that considers the long term. The elder spoke calmly.
The death breathers alone have enough reason to want us dead.
They will be too busy licking their wounds to bother us.
Garou snarled low in his throat, How dare you sit there and tell me we will be safe, I have seen
what the humans can do. They have all but killed off the Reptils we used to trade with. How long
until it happens to us too!
You are too young to remember the wars that have been fought in the past, and your blood burns in
passion. But do not nip at the heels of beasts, because they will fight back.
You must become a worse monster than they ever were.
Loup Garou kept to the edges of the forests, banished for trying to incite his people to take the
threat to the humans. The arid smell of smoke drew him back to the place of his birth. The unnatural
glow of the forest fire cast deathly shadows into the sky, as Loup stalked at the edge of the forest.
The fire smelt of human construction, of unnatural fuels that were not found in his land. The heat
reminding him of the brand that had been burned into his chest to show that he was an outcast.
Loups ears pricked as he heard the pained howls of his former pack mates in the forest, and despite
the terrible burning of the brand on his chest, he rushed in, transforming mid stride to his
quadrupedal form.
For I have looked into the darkest hearts of men.
The closer he got to his people, the more his brand burned, and the harder he pushed. Seeing the
first of the werewolves panicking but doing nothing to save themselves or others. Loup transformed
almost instantaneously mid step and shouted, Follow me if you wish to live! Before transforming
straight back, a black and brown streak in a world of grey smog. Rushing through the smoke, Loup
Garou was leading hundreds of his brethren away from the smog. But hundreds more hadnt
followed or had already been killed.

And I saw myself staring back again, waiting to break free.

Hundreds of wolves, sat on the hill watching their home burn to the ground. Loup, whimpered as he
watched all his hopes and dreams collide with his dire warnings, and come off second best. Raising
his voice, he let out a long, mournful howl, full of sorrow and grief. Moments later, another voice,
and another joined in. Matching his grief. Slowly, everyone had picked up the note. And it echoed
through the glowing dusk light, a cry of pain. A cry of grief, and a cry of vengeance.
All of them, such weak and pitiful creatures.
The war started that night, and raged on for two thousand years. Loup Garou became their leader,
and his brand, a symbol of freedom, rather then rejection. Slowly, the Werewolves reformed, and
grew to become almost the size of what they were, over 2000 top predators, training and killing
their enemies for almost 2000 years. For although not populous, it takes a lot to kill a werewolf, and
not much to kill a man. Garou was filled with anger, fuelled by hatred and a need for revenge, he
didnt see the trap until it was too late.
That couldn't live with what it means to be a human.
Necropolis and a descendant of Arkas Lithic stood over a bound and broken Loup. Snarling, Loup
tried to break free. Necropolis looked on with pity, while Lithic had a look of disgust, at his trapped
enemy. Who are you, beast?! Lithic demanded, and received a growl in return. Why do you
insist on killing us like we were cattle? Tell us and we may let you go.
I am one of the ones who can see the damage you have done to our world.
What damage? Necropolis asked,
Your kind burned our homes, killed our people. Hunted us for sport. You are monsters, burning the
world as you see fit to mould it into your image.
How does that change what you have done, monster? Killing thousands of innocent people, and for
what? Some imagined slight to your...kind? Lithic was visibly angry, and wanting to end this
quickly.
We have not killed one innocent thing since we started fighting back.
Rebelling more like.
Rebelling against what?
We are branded monsters,
Our kingdom. Lithic said simply.
Is that what you want then. To reign over the kingdom of your simple world, to make peace and
write its laws; for only so long as it benefits you. To be generous to those who follow your whim,
and destroy all those who dare to stand against you. Nothing ever changes; two thousand years and
you still act like the world is yours.
Two thousand years, and you still act as if the world is yours. Necropolis said thoughtfully.
What would you know Death Breather.
I know that you deserve better then this. Let us make a deal.
I will not deal with your kind.
Then YOUR kind will not survive. Think of everyone before you make a decision, and how the
consequences of your actions will affect them. This is a war you cannot win, and you know it.
Loup growled defiantly. Send us a representative. Let them speak for your people, tell your side of
the story. And be welcomed into our city. Help us stop what happened to you, from happening to
others.
Not because we aren't human.

A hundred years passed with no more deaths, and eventually, the Garou, as the werewolves had
elected to be called, became the newest faction within Arkas. Although not bound by the laws of the
Lithic among their own kind, they were accepted, not as monsters, but as people. Loup Garou stood
as their speaker, and represented the will of all of the Garou. Necropolis stood by his side, his
staunchest ally, and the bargain struck between the two leaders, the only thing keeping his anger in
check.
But because in us, the humans see themselves, without the veneer of civility.

Laiken stared down into the thick brown liquid in his cup, Loup Garou was wiping his furry skin
with his arm to wipe away the remaining liquid, and Necropolis was standing against the wall
looking thoughtfully on the exchange between the two men. There was an understanding silence
between the three of them that existed beyond mere words. So, we have all heard each others
stories. Quid pro quo as it were. Necropolis broke the silence. Now, we have to ask ourselves,
where does that leave us.
I still do not understand why you are leading Nexus.
Well you see Laiken, we have each been forced into our position. Loup smiled his wolfish grin.
They always told us our dreams would come true.
What Loup is trying to say is, we have been betrayed by our people, and our city. And we want it
back. Necropolis shrugged.
So, you are just another part of the Garou. Laiken asked curiously
No Loup growled.
Then what are you then?
We are the ones who want justice, and the city our people fought for and died for to exist again.
Necropolis put his hand on Garou's shoulder giving him a warning look.
Then why do you need me?
Because, the people need a champion.
And why cant it be either of you?
Because people believe us to be dead remember? I'd rather not have that become public
knowledge. Garou said with a sigh.
But there was something that they didn't tell us.
What makes you think I am worthy of being your champion? Laiken asked curiously
We have heard your story, and despite dying, you have come back. Necropolis replied
What has that got to do with anything?
The same thing happened to us. Necropolis sighed. It happened a long time ago, there were a
few within my family, who weren't happy that we respected our enemy. They thought we should've
made an example of him, and ruled this city. I refused to create exactly the same situation in which
caused all of us to flee, especially when we had a chance to move on, and become better. But that
number started to grow, and resent me. About 4000 years ago, I was overthrown by my second in
command. She trapped me, in a crypt, and left me to starve. I don't know how much time passed,
but eventually, she came back, and found me still alive. She brought her minions, and they killed
me. Threw me into the river, and the next thing I knew, I had washed up here. And here, I saw how
far the corruption of my city had spread. It wasn't just that my people weren't happy. They had been
bribed to get rid of me.
They did not tell us our nightmares are dreams too.
So we have no allies in the Umbra. Laiken said it as a statement of fact not a question.
I didn't say that. My true blood, still knows I am alive, and they have been providing me with the
resources to create Nexus.
Then how were you betrayed Loup?
I do not want to talk about it. Loup growled,
Come on Dog breath, it seems to be the only way in which we can secure his cooperation.
My people thought I betrayed them, by selling out to the Lithic and Umbra. They didn't like that,
and eventually, I was brought to trial for my crimes against the pack. And sentenced to death. They
gave me the choice, run through the city, and try to escape, or stand and fight like a warrior. I stood,
and was torn down. I woke up in a pit, just outside the city. Once I escaped, I saw Necropolis sitting

on a tombstone, and he invited me to the cause.

Compared to the 'Righteous' greed of the Lithic.
A familiar story isn't it Laiken Loup growled,
What do you want from me? Laiken asked still not convinced.
We want you, undermine everything that the greedy stand for. We need to kill the corrupt leaders
of the factions and replace them with the fair and the just. We need to unite the factions and the
people, to move on and become something that everyone needs, but no one wants to create.
And if I refuse?
Are you going to refuse? Loup warned in a dire tone
I just want to know my options.
If you refuse, we either get you out of the city, so you cannot interfere with our goals, or we kill
you. Necropolis warned thoughtfully.
So I have no choice.
The criminals of the world seem much more honourable.
There is always a choice Laiken. But sometimes, we cannot foresee its consequences until it is
much too late. Necropolis warned,
Well, just tell me one thing. Laiken paused, Who needs to die?
Thats more like it! Loup shouted,
Our first job isn't murder. Its evidence. If we are going to take down the Lithic, we are going to
need to do it legally. First off, we need you to go and see the Mundus. We have contacts there, who
can help. Necropolis gravely commented
The Mundus? Really? Those bark chewing nutcases?
They are more powerful then you realise. You mock them at your own peril.
For when it is scum that rules.
Laiken strolled out of the underground chamber, filled with a new feeling of life, and invigorated,
that his dream was almost within reach. He would kill Doyle, bring down those who killed him, and
become known as the greatest assassin within the entire world. Laiken smiled, as he stepped out
into the cold morning sunlight, walking down the street, contemplating how he would meet up with
his Mundus contacts.
Then only more scum can be born.

Sometimes in pursuit of ones goals, one makes sacrifices both willingly, and unwillingly. A fact that
all people learn at one point or another in ones life. Mandra Gora, learned this lesson the hard way
in years passed. He was the first man to achieve living combination between blood and cellulose.
Strengthening the bond between nature and man. But unfortunately, once combined, there is no
way to return. Which is what Mandra realised, and suffered for, bound immobile, listening to the
world around him, but not being able to directly affect it.
So you are the new Nexus dog, been digging a little too deeply have you?
A younger man, working through his new found senses, sat at a bench watching a plant grow before
his eyes, reacting to the attacks of the small herbivorous rodent that he had let lose upon it. Mandra
sat transfixed by the struggle between the two beings, one lived in a normal world, able to protect
itself, and another, who only now, being able to react. By subverting his own life force, he had
finally been able to give a plant conciousness.
So you wish to seek my help, in taking down the established settlement, I didn't take you for a
Garou.
The rodent was unable to comprehend the threat the plant now posed, as it constantly tried to
approach and eat the plant, with the plant moving itself out of its teeth. Mandra could start to feel
his energy running out, being replaced by exhaustion. Just as he was about to sever the link, the
plant struck back, wrapping its stem around the mouse, and squeezing like a snake. Mandra smiled,
and out of morbid curiosity, forced the plants roots to take hold in the rodent, causing a large
squealing sound to emit from the poor creature.
It is amazing, what people say when they think they are alone, because, plants aren't meant to
have ears are they.
Releasing the power, Mandra collapsed back into his seat, the rodent still twitching, the plant
seemed to be dying, as all its colour and life force flowed into the mouse. Once all colour was gone,
the mouse started shaking, and a sprout sprouted out of its head, growing slowly into a blood red
flower. Mandra jumped as the abomination he had created started running around, looking for a way
out. Mandra couldnt believe his eyes, before him, was the first hybrid. The first of the Leshie. It
was only later, that he realised it was his first mistake.
But then, tell me, do you believe in the gods?
Weeks passed, and more and more Leshie came into existance, some had to be burned and killed
due to the creature going insane through the transformation, others remained more plant then
animal, and died due to lack of food. The Mundas grasped Mandra's idea with both hands, and
achieved mixed results. Slowly, Mandra's experiments began consuming too much of his life
energy, and he couldn't harness enough of the energy from the life around him to be able to rely on
it. His curious experiments turned from animals, onto people.
Let me ask you then, why would your god, allow my madness to spread?
No please, dad it hurts. Mandra's son lay strapped to the table, as Mandra looked on with insanity
gleaming in his eyes, the small tree next to the table had wrapped itself around the small boys wrist,
turning the skin into bark. Make it stop Tears streamed down the boys face, but Mandra remained
unmoved by the cries, slowly merging his son further with the oak tree. Whether because he wasn't
listening or didn't care, nobody ever figured out. But slowly, his son died, as his heart became
wood, and ceased beating.

For he does allow it to spread. I can see the hatred in your eyes. But doesn't that make your god
as mad as me?
Mandra didn't stop with the failure and death of his son, he kept experimenting, and more and more
people fell to his experiments, trying to create a human Leshie. Eventually, months later, Mandra
succeeded. The first human Leshie was another Mundas member who had volunteered to become
merged with his favourite plant. After a few days, Mandra showed his new Leshie to the Mundas,
showcasing the boys new sensitivity to the life energy around him, and the slight mutations that
made his skin harder then any wood known at the time.
To become like me, is to admit you are too weak to be human.
Slowly, Mandra started combining himself with various plants, the thorns of roses, the strength of
the trees, the hardiness of the grasses. All these aspects, Mandra combined within himself, and
slowly, his awareness of the world grew and grew. But his instability was proportionate to his
awareness. The Mundas were fasinated and fearful of Mandra as he grew more powerful. But did
nothing, as more and more of their members turned themselves into Leshie.
But is weakness evil? No, Humans have always been weak. Alone, you are always afraid.
Mandra took the final step, becoming pure Leshie, and throwing away almost off traces of
humanity. The moon was full, as Mandra approached the dying Olive tree, that was slowly dying in
the Mundas labs. Having been planted by the original Damina mage, Mandra decided to combine
himself directly into the thick trunk of the tree. Somehow, Mandra survived the transformation, and
his sense of the world expanded to the whole of Arkas, every plant, and weed, a part of him, and a
part of him in every plant and weed.
Thats why we have factions, that is why we have friends. That is why I am what I am. So I may
never be alone.
Mandra couldn't see beyond the court yard, as a hooded figure stood in front of him, curiously
unafraid of the monstrous things he had done. Time, turning his mind from unstable, to a state that
when viewed through a heavy fog could resemble stability. Asking him to make amends for the
madness he had demonstrated and release unto the world, and destroy the telepathic link he had
discovered and sold to the Lithic in return for being left to his experiments.
To achieve this, you wish to reduce the world back to that weakness.

Sitting in a large chamber, surrounded by the pale moonlight, provided through a hole in the ceiling,
Laiken and Doyle danced, punching, kicking, and dodging blows meant to kill lesser men. Where
there would normally be the sound of meat on meat, there was only the sound of light foot falls on
the cold ground. The gleam of sweat evident clearly on both men as they continued their high paced
dance, it didn't so much seem like violence, but perfectly choreographed moves, practised for hours
each day.
There will always come a day, when you will realise...
Laiken grunted, and his concentration slipped. Doyle put a swift punch through his guard, causing
Laiken to drop to his knees gasping. You are progressing quickly. Doyle smiled and offered his
hand out to help Laiken up, But you need to work on your control.
What do you mean? Laiken asked, once he caught his breath again.
You lost concentration, and let a more powerful blow overwhelm your defences, and you are
wasting energy repulsing my blows, not absorbing them. Doyle explained, Ill show you. Hit me.
Laiken lined a swift jab into Doyles stomach, and met some resistance the instant the blow struck,
but the momentum was gone.
That everything you know, and everything you will know, isn't necessarily true.
That is what you need to learn to do. It makes your opponent feel like he is doing damage, but
causes them to waste more energy than if they actually hit you. Plus it allows you to redirect their
force back at them. Now, this is what you are doing, punch me again. Doyle opened his guard
again, and Laiken punched again, and his fist rebounded off Doyles chest as if it were made of
rubber, causing Laiken to stumble backwards. You are showing off your power, and wasting your
energy, plus enraging your opponents.
Is not that a good thing? An enraged opponent will waste more energy with each blow. And makes
errors more often.
Whilst that may be true. An enraged opponent in a fist fight may draw his blade on you, which
takes much more energy to block, and gives very little back. Remember, Energy...
You will be told what everyone else wants you to know.
Laiken interrupted Doyle and mimiced ...Cannot be created or destroyed, it can only be redirected
or reformed. I remember your lessons.
You might at that, but you aren't an expert yet lad. Fight smart, fight quick, and don't reveal all
your cards at once. Sometimes its easier to avoid a fight, and or bluff your way out of trouble, then
it is to fight. Doyle lectured, Laiken as he put back on his shift, and sword. Tell me, what are the
limitations of Motukine? Or on a broader scope, Magic in general?
The energy we have at our disposal.
Doyle smacked Laiken over the head, Wrong lad. While we can only use the energy we have at our
disposal, it is limited by our imaginations. If we cannot envisage something, we cannot do it. Or if
we can imagine a more efficient use of energy, we will be able to use that as an advantage. We are
not limited anything else.
Just as you tell everyone what you want them to know.
Laiken strode up to the training room, and slammed the doors open. The shocked looks on every
ones faces made Laiken remember Doyles lessons 'Remember lad, the crowd loves a show. And
take control of the show, and you control your opponent.' Laiken walked through the crowded
training room, drawing two blades from the sheaths that were buried within the walls, under the
symbol of Ithany on the wall. I wish to issue a formal challenge to Rankin, and wish for his master

to act as witness, of the deed. The collective gasp didn't shock Laiken, it was an old rule within the
Ithany, that apprentices could challenge each other to duels to the death without punishment if
witnessed by a full member of the Ithany. It used to be used to make sure only the best made the
ranks of assassin.
One day, you will realise, that truth and fiction, are just veneers.
A moment later a confident Rankin and a not so confident master walked out of the crowd. Don't
do it Rankin. His master whispered harshly.
Don't you think I can take this gutter-rat master? Do you believe that your training is insufficient?
Well no...but...
But nothing Rankin raised his voice, uttering the formal words in response to a challenge. I
Rankin accept Laikens challenge.
Laiken smiled and chucked one of the blades through the air by the hilt, allowing Rankin to catch it,
before dropping into an attack stance. Lets begin then.
That in the end, nothing but the best story gets remembered.
The steel flashed and the clang of steel echoed out through the deathly silent training hall. Laiken
let himself be pushed back, while channelling his Motukine through the slightest edge of the blade,
to cause tiny splinters to break off along his opponents blade blunting the edge. Neither Laiken nor
Rankin wasted any energy, both moved so the blades missed or were deflected to the barest degree
so the steel didn't damage skin. Within moments, the tenor of sound changed when the blades met,
and with a slightly larger exhertion of Motukine, the blade snapped. Laiken moved and in the brief
moment of shock, and slashed Rankin across the face, leaving him screaming on the ground,
flicking his blade clean. Laiken bowed to Rankins master, handed the blade to an initiate and left
the room.
"And sometimes, the legend becomes the truth."