Outside the stables awaited a somber afternoon. Fog creeped in on little cat's feet and rain the size of a dandelions head beat down, drenching the land. The sky lights up and for a short time the thunder sounds, loud as a morning church bell. Sidonna's, the deep spice brown mare I've been grooming, ears perk up and she shifts restlessly, paws at the ground and snorts.

“Calm yourself ma petite chou, 'tis only the storm,” I croon as I brush her long black mane. Her muscles twitch in response to the incessant buzzing flies landing on her hind quarters. I often wonder what it's like to to be a horse. I am quite a hedonistic person, but so is the horse, so I would fit in. I move around to her face and nuzzle her leather nose. She lifts her nose to mine before nipping at my skirts.

“That erroneous behavior is unacceptable,” I tease. She doesn't find me very funny and continues to nudge at me. “Oh alright! Such a bizarre beauty your are,” I reach into the slit of my skirts and pull out a carrot. Keeping my hand flat as to not have blood drawn from her teeth. Her lips curl around the carrot and she bites into it with a loud crunch, making a mess.

I grab the various brushes, combs, and shoe picks and toss them into the bucket of oats I am carrying. Just before I walk out the gate, Sidonna pushes me with her head.
“ 'Tis not time for horse play,” I giggle at my pun, “ The brevity of our meeting is a must for milord awaits my return. I shant not forgive thyself if I miss his birthday meal.” I turn around and kiss her forehead, but Sidonna jerks away.

“What's wrong.” I am worried now. Her normally saccharine and hyper gait has been overruled by a spell of nerves. “I'll come back. I promise.” Just as I turn she whinnies and rears up kicking at the air. I throw my hands up to calm her, but she's frantic. I look back to see what could possibly be the cause of her behavior. That was an ignorant mistake; turning my back on a kicking horse. Sidonna's hoof hit me just below my neck. I hit my head first when I fell. Everything was blurry. My horse ran away throwing bits and pieces of dirt and hay onto me. As I began to fade in and out of consciousness I saw the cause for her inept actions.

When I awoke my chemise and dress where cut off and were barely covering my breasts. My skirts were a mess and I hurt everywhere. Something cold and damp dabbed at my neck where I was kicked. Who could possibly be attending to me? With a start I jump up holding my bosom only to find milord,Kellium, kneeling at the ground with a rag, bucket, and blood on his hands.

“What are you doing,” I demand. Kellium is an extremely altruistic man, I admire that about him, though growing up a farmers daughter has taught me to be callous. I am not used to kindness. I saw you lying in the dirt covered in blood. I needed to attend to your wound, but you wouldn't wake. I then took it upon myself to dress it and see if it needed a stitch before it could infect.”

“So, you cut my dress?” My wound was starting to pull and sting. I hadn't noticed nor called attention to the pain I until after I jumped up.

“Please sit. I need to stitch you before you bleed out.” He makes a good point. I am dizzy, lord, I'd bet two silver pieces that I have a concussion. Yet, being as stubborn as I am I just stand there. “But milord...”

“Dimosielle, we can do this one of two ways. Now, may I suggest that we not try my patience, clean you up, get you a new dress, and go back to the celebration before people start to draw their own conclusions on why we are still absent.” Kellium raises and eye brow at me.

Not wanting to bare the starts and whispered murmurs of everyone in the palace and village I take my place in front of him. Careful as to not completely expose myself. I can hear the sloshing of water as he dips the rag in. The sounds of rain hitting the roof of the stables did well to calm my nerves. I could still hear the faint sound of thunder rolling in the distance. Days like this are my favorite, because no matter how bad things are I can still find comfort in the rain. I inhale the smell of damp hay and sigh.

“What happened, Evelette?” his voice saturated with unabashed concern. He dabbed at my cut and each time the air hit it, I winced. The sting was a bitter annoying pain, but bearable and I welcomed it. Pain is all I know, since living with my father, who isn't even my real father.

My mother was a harlot while her husband was busy working the fields. To my knowledge he was a kind and loving man who gave her everything she could have possibly wanted. He would have captured the moon and stars if it were to please her. And that is why she didn't want to be with him. It was his blunt raw love for her that scared her. She had a spirit like the eagle and the courage of a lion. She could not be tamed, and that's what attracted my father to her, that's why he bought her to wed. He thought he could tame her. Over the years, he was under the impression that she was falling for him. When in reality, she was sleeping with another man. Someone who she thought was going to survive this world, who was strong and unafraid and guarded. When she became pregnant with me by her other lover, she told my father that it was his child. He couldn't be happier. Until, the day that he caught my mother kissing the village blacksmith behind the shop. He was able to put the pieces together and discovered that I was not his daughter.

Until that day, he had never placed a hand on a women either. He changed from a kind, gentle, loving man to a monster. He beat my mother, and I don't blame him for being hurt, but after she birthed me and ran-away with the blacksmith he turned his rage upon me. That I cared for. I endured years of his drunken abuse because of my mother. It wasn't only my father that I was hurt by, it was everybody in town who knew my mother. Who knew what she had done and cursed me, spat on me, and told me I was the devils spawn, that nothing good would come of me.

The prick of the needle and thread being stitched into my back brings me back to reality and I realize that I have forgotten what he has asked of me. Sensing this very thing, he asked again.

“What happened?” This time his voice is stern, it has a contending sound to it.

“I was grooming Sidonna. She became spooked by something, she reared up with my back to her and accidentally kicked me. Then she ran outside into the storm. When I fell I guess I hit my head and when I opened my eyes I found my self half exposed.” I hoped that he wouldn't pick up on the little bits and pieces of the story that I left out. But, unfortunately, there is some unseen and highly unwanted connection between us and he picks up on it right away. “Is that all.” It wasn't a question.


I try to end the confrontation by avoiding the conversation, “Shouldn't we be getting back to your party milord. We don't want to keep your guest waiting, nor start any unwanted rumors do we?”

“No, no we certainly don't,” Kellium helps me up and steadies me. “Wait were is...”
“Back in her stall,” He points towards he pin. I see that she is eating the bucket of oats I dropped. No dinner for her tonight.

He helps me enter through the back side of the palace and walks me to my corridor. I expect him to leave when we reach my door, yet he walks in to the room and starts rummaging through my chests. “I can dress my self, Thank you.”

“Lift your arms.” I stare at him like he is ignorant. “I can't.”
“And why not.” He is growing more and more impatient as we speak. I do not care though. I am more capable of dressing my self than he thinks I am. Though, I am not sure that I can not life my arms with out tearing my stitching.

“I'll expose myself to you.”


With a sigh he realizes that I am right. He hands me a red velvet and accent gold dress. The neck of this dress was cut extremely low so that if I were to raise my arms I would fall out of everything. It accents every curve of a woman's body to make her beautiful. This gown would do anybody justice. I, however, did not fit that criteria. Wearing this dress would feel like a black sheep rolling in white cotton to be a white sheep. He hands me my chemise next and bids me farewell.

I lay the gown on the bed and my chemise. After a few minutes of thinking, I decide that I will need some help. I call for Kellium and I assume he was waiting for me right outside the door because it took him three seconds to enter the room. I say three because two would be too fast and four is just too slow for him.
“I see that the stubborn girl needs me after all,” He smirks.
“Close your eyes and undo the ties to my skirts. Then go and wait in the bathing chambers.” To my astonishment he actually obeys me. After my ties to my skirts have been undone, he leaves me. I step out of them and fumble with my chemise trying not to pull or tear a stitch and make sure that I am not going to fumble out and show a breast to milord while he is lacing me up.

“You can come and lace me now.” He steps behind me and I feel his warmth radiating off of him. It feels nice cause I am so cold, but uneasy. His fingers gently move across my back moving my long,yellow,brownish hair out of the way. It sends shivers up my spine and I try to convince my self that it's just the chill of the storm out side making me shiver. His finger slide down my spine now and I catch my breathe, not wanting him to stop touching me. I quickly cast that thought from my mind. I should not be thinking about him that way. This is business. Not a love affair.

Kellium ties the chemise, pulling it really tight so that my breasts stand out in the dress. The dress is made to emphasize every asset on a women, and if not dressed properly for the dress then it would look sloppy and I cannot look sloppy at a celebration. Especially, with my identity at stake, and the duchess life. He helps me step into my skirts and laces those and even helps put my arms into the sleeve of the dress. Now, that I am covered I do not feel the want for him to touch me anymore. But the butterflies in my stomach are still there. He moves my hair back into place and when I turn around he stares at me like I am...I don't know, but it made me feel not worthless.
“You look beautiful, Dimosielle.”

Beautiful? He was just being polite I try to convince myself. He reaches up and moves a stray hair back into place brushing his fingers against my cheek bone as he does so. I don't realize it, but I am moving my face to press into his hand as he does so. When he cups my cheek I look up and see that he is much closer to my face than he was before. His hazel eyes have a hint of something to them, but I can't put my finger on it. His brown hair is tousled and damp from the rain, it suits him very well.
I am looking at him in a hole new way now. I am over come by a desire to be held my him, to have his strong, muscled arms enclose me into his body and not let me go. I lean in closer to him and my heart beat quickens as well as my breathing. He leans in closer and soon I can smell the wine on his brush feel the warmth of it on my cheeks.
“We shouldn't do this,” I whisper and as I do my lips brush against his slightly.
“No?” He pulls back, and I regret what I have said instantly. He must see the regret in my eyes fore he takes my face in both of his hands and kisses me. I never felt anything for a man other than hate. This felt nice, it felt right, and good. His hand slides down to my waist and pulls me in and I welcome it. I welcome him and everything in that moment.

Before I know it we are laying on the bed entangled in each other and he is kissing me everywhere. When he gets to my neck there is a knock at the door. “You two should probably come out now,” it was his sister,Evangeline,” People are starting to ask questions and we don't want that now do we. And I promise not to utter a word of this.”

Embarrassed, I pull away from Kellium. My face was red and I could see shock in his eyes. So, I did what I did best and avoided the confrontation. It was dubious that it would work this time, but I hoped that it would. “Shall we milord? Mustn't keep the duchess waiting.” I stand up extending my hand with a smile on my face. He takes it and says only one thing to me and I dread it. “We'll talk later.”

Down stairs that party was buzzing with the joy of laughter and of seeing old friends an making new. Everything was decorated so beautifully. There where roses everywhere, red linen curtains where up, the fire place is a roar and the food looks delicious. The band is playing slow songs and everyone is having a lovely time.

I have never seen such happiness and beauty all in one place before and I have to remind myself to give my accolades to the decorators after wards. Also, too abstain from any confrontation of the nights events with Kellium's sister. That would be too awkward and I have already had enough awkward for the night. On top of that I had to find the cynical person who was at the stables earlier today. I do not know his name, just that he is a trained assassin, like I. He betrayed his coven and the country. Now, he wants the duchess and all her royal families heads on a platter. The thought of that both disgust me and revolts me to the core, but when I think of Kellium dead at the hands of that assailant I become angry and want to murder him immediately at any stake possible. Which , is completely abnormal for me.

Kellium guides me through the crowds introducing me to everyone as an old friend of the families. By the look I receive from the noble families I know, that they know, I am not a friend, they think I am his mistress.

I am not shocked, we expected as much. The only thing the bothers me is that I like the thought of being with Kellium. It scares me. I distract myself by engaging in conversation. With the a noble man. He is a burly man his eyes are as green as emeralds and captivate me. I can't help notice how attractive he is.

“Dimosielle Carson,” he bows,”How are you this fine evening. If you don't mind me asking, where is Milord De'Lorach this even'?” Until he said something I hadn't noticed that I was no longer with Kellium. “I am not sure. Milord Brefortdz. He 'twas with me a moment ago. I can fetch him if you so please.” I turn to walk away, but he grabs me by the elbow with a firm clasp.

“That won't be necessary milady.” His smile was twisted with greed and his face had a no nonsense demanding look. I knew better not to put him in his place in public, so I acted like I was helpless to him. Brefortdz preceded to drag me inconspicuously though the throng of people. As he did is, I searched for Kellium as Brefortdz expected me to do. He has no clue that I can kill him in five seconds top if I so pleased.
We are in a dark corridor on the west wing of the palace. The only people on this side are the serving maids and they are all at the celebration. I suspect that this is exactly what he wanted to happen. He precedes to push me against the wall and kiss my neck and face. I push against him giving him a warning look.
“If you do not stop I will make you.” I spat at him vehemently. It's obvious to me that he doesn't know that I can indeed make him stop. That I am an innate killer. The sound he makes next is one of laughter. There is a hint of levity about him now. And for the first time I fear for myself.
“Oh will you now? Little assassin? I know all about you, I know all about you and your coven. I even know all about you and De'Lorach.” I am stunned into silence. I wish that his words would have rescind off me and not gone straight to my heart. He sees this and takes advantage of the moment.
“Now, I am sorry that I spooked your horse and that she kicked you. But it was all apart of the plan you see. In order to get closer to the duchess, I had to get her brother to be distracted. With you here it was easier than I thought. He was attracted to you instantly.”
I try to talk but he says I am reticent. “You see De'Lorach was a deprecating man when it came to love. He never appreciated it long enough for the women to stay around. They of course where wrapped around hit pretty little finger. But when he saw you I saw something in his eyes change. I saw a longing in him. And I feel lament for him. Because love used to be his weakness. Seems to be contradiction when love that saves you is the same thing that kills you.”

I am trained to not show my emotion. So, prepared for the worst as I bottle everything and seal the lid tight. I take a deep breath calming myself and make sure to be articulate when I say these words.”I know not who you are truly, besides that you are also a trained assassin and you are a traitor to our country. You can have my life, but after I have yours. Your blade shant not prick that fine layer of skin on either Kellium nor Evangeline. And before it ever does, you would have to send my soul to the depths of hell first.”

“Evelette, I am ashamed that you do not remember me, so I grant you one gift before I kill you. The gift to know your assailant. My name is Raven Stark. And I am the reason you were taken to the coven. I am the reason you are born. I not only am not only the most feared assassin in all of Dereldon, but I brought you into this world and I know how the depravity of the situation at hand seems arbitrary, but I promise you that it tisn't my wish. It's his.” And with that he forces me to look down as if I am staring the god of death straight in the face.

The last thing I hear before the swoosh of my breathe leaves my body is milord screaming my name. I finally know the identity of my real father, and he is trying to kill me. My world starts spinning, and I look down to realize that the knife of Ondrasetain is embedded in my stomach. But his ostentatious behavior just cost him his life.

Kellium didn't hesitate to kill Raven. As I lay bloody and crumpled on the ground, I watched milord fight to the death with a god sent assassin. I knew he had no chance. But when Raven thought he had permanently disarmed Kellium he was wrong. He went in close to KellIum's ear to whisper the word of death and a short prayer before he killed him, as do all of the god's assassin's. But as he did so, Kellium unsheathed his knife and plunged it into his gut. I watched him twist the knife and curse him as he did so. Crimson spurted from my fathers wound on to my face.

As if there wasn't already enough blood on me. My hearing was muffled now and the deep gash was burning. Literally, my flesh was smoking and turning black. I have been poisoned and survived many times. I have not bee tested with this one. I am now sure that my demise is inevitable.
“Evelette! Everything will be alright I promise you. I won't let you die.” He was frantically trying to soothe me. He fumbled with my hair, smoothing it out of my face. My heart beat was quickening and but it was all too redundant. I swore that this has happened to me before and then I remembered. “Kellium, you have,”i coughed blood and some black muck up, “you have to remove the dagger.”
“But you'll bleed out...I'll lose you.” His eyes were full of sorrow and love. I have never seen him look so unguarded it hurt my heart and it made me fear for my life.
“Listen to me! Take it out now. I will not die. I promise. I love you Kellium.” Now I started crying. I hate crying. It reminds me of weakness and I am not weak. I am strong. I am an assassin and I did vow my life to the duchess and her family. This is all I can give them now.
“I do not believe you. Can you stop being an ignorant brave, brave little girl and at least die with grace. You can not ask me to hasten your death by removing this blade.” He move me into his lap so that my head was level now. The moment was slow and gentle but every time I was moved the blade slid further down into my stomach and it made me screamed. “Please, you cannot leave me here demosielle.”
“No, but you can leave me here. Your sister she needs you now. If Raven was here then we wasn't the only one and with me out of the way they will make there attack against the duchess. You have to leave now. I can attend to myself remember. Just take out the dagger before it truly does end my life. When you take it out my spirit is going to leave my body..”
“NO! No,I won't do it!” He was crying and holding me tight. I have never seen a man weep over a pathetic girl so much. I truly did mean more to him than he led on.
“Quiet. When my spirit leaves my body you must hurry to save your sister. I will find my way back to myself. But I will have a brief amount of time to do so. If after a fortnight, I still have not awaken. You must promise to risk your life to protect everything that is left here. You must vow to me that you will not let my demise ruin what you have worked so hard to build. Promise me that your mistress will be to protect. That no matter what nothing will stop you from protecting Evangeline .Promise me Kellium!”


He looks at me and takes my hand in his. He has stopped crying now and his eyes have taken on a hardened glaze. “I promise. I love you, Evelette. Nothing will ever change that.” And with that he kisses me. I grabbed the handle of the dagger and he placed his hand over mine. With one last look into his eyes and a quick graze of my finger over his cheek as my goodbye. We pull on the dagger and it slides out easily. I wince and gnash my teeth together. More blood drenches my body. I feel at ease now. All the air from my body is gone. I feel myself slipping away. The dim lite room is blurring and it looks like light burst are everywhere.

Then I am looking down at myself. Watching Kellium shake my dead body, crying trying to wake me up. I tried to scream at him to go, but my voice got lost in the echos of the dead. I can only just stand there watching the man I love sit there in agony over this. I feel as though he knows I have tricked him into letting me die. We both know that I am not coming back. That's what makes this all the worse.

I turn around only to find the God of Death as a dark cloud hovering by my side.
“We meet again death.” I smirk, but he can feel my agony.
“He will get over it. But this is not the end Evelette. You know that you will have to go back there and finish what was started eventually.” His voice came out as an echo and I grab on to the clouded hand that he has extended towards me.
“Yes, milord. I know.”
“If he can figure out how to bring you back within three moons and three suns time. You can go back. But I am afraid he might fail with out your help.” He releases my hand.” Figure out how to communicate with him to help you and you can live once again. If not you are to return again and kill him yourself. Can you do that?”
“Of, course milord.” I know that I cannot, but I keep my voice even.
“Good, I will return in three moons and three suns.”

And with that he left me to bring myself back to life as he always does. Except this time I fear that I will fail worse than I ever have and anger my god.