Tuesday, April 4, 2006

The Blood that Flowed for Power

Dara shuffled her feet, her impatience plainly displayed. She had joined a secret training camp for aspiring young assassins. At first she had been satisfied with her training, but she felt the push for speed, for revenge. She could not wait forever, not while her parent's murderers still ran free. She needed to elevate her position extremely quickly. There were two ways to achieve this. One was to accomplish a notable deed that was more becoming of someone of a higher position. The person who performed this deed was then given the postion their accomplishment deserved. The second way was more dark. A person had to challenge an older, more experienced student to a duel and win. The only difficulty was that it had to be a duel to the death, and there was only one way to ignite a death match. Dara smiled. She had chosen the second way. A tall, masculine man named Zare approached with several of his friends. They laughed and exchanged a few jovial comments. Zare's clothes were marked with the orange stripe, placing him just below the masters themselves. Dara erased the smile from her face. She hid her excitement behind a mask of stone and her deep, calm eyes. She had been waiting. She rose from her position against the wall and walked across the courtyard to meet Zare. Her own attire, marked with the white stripe of a novice glinted in the sunlight. She strode hurridly with her head down, seemingly not watching where she was going. Her shoulder banged heavily into Zare's chest. Dara did not stop. " Hey!" Zare called after her, obviously offended that a novice should have the audacity to bump against him and then not apologize. " You will return this instant and apologize for your actions." "No." The single word rang in Zare's ears. Never since his ascention to the orange stripe had anyone dared disobey him. He was one of the most powerful killers in the entire camp! " How dare you disobey one of higher rank! You will return this moment and..." Dara turned abruptly, her face a grim mask of hatred and contempt. " Zare of the orange, you are a coward!" The man froze, unable to believe what he had just heard from the novice's mouth. By publically declaring him a coward, the girl had asked for a duel to the death. To refuse was to accept what she had said, to become a coward. Still, Zare did not want to kill this girl. It would be too easy. There was no honor in it! " Only my friends and I heard what you said, if you apologize heavily and recieve chastisment from your superiors, we will forget you ever said that." The others nodded in agreement, but Dara was stubborn. She had others to kill. One of the masters, Master Sen appeared at the entrance to the courtyard, along with the rarely seen Master Damu, the best assassin who ever lived. Damu had once taken on private pupils, but had not recently seen any worthy of teaching. The scene interested him. Sen began to aproach, but Damu stopped him. Dara did not know who the men were, only that they were masters. That pleased her. " I declared that Zare of the orange is a coward never meant to live!" She yelled loud enough that the masters could hear her. " You are a fool!" Zare shouted. He tossed his other weapons to his comrades, keeping only the single knife that would be used in the match. Dara drew her blade. She had no other weapons. Damu's eyes sparkled with interest. The combatants circled each other, Zare slashing his blade through the air. Dara remained calm. She had been silently observing Zare during his training. He had a weakness that even the masters did not notice, but Dara did. Zare charged, stabbing violently at her. Dara dodged his blows, not willing to bring her own blade against his. He could best her in physical strength. Therefore, for her plan to work, Dara would have to use evasive tactics and avoid clashing blades with him. His knife nicked her arm, the precious blood dripping from her fingers. " Afraid now?" Zare demanded his voice layered with the rush of adrenaline flooding his veins. " I would be if I were you. You are about to experience a taste of hell!" Dara laughed as he said this, easily dodging another of Zare's blows. Then as Zare lunged at her again, she slid underneath him arms, turning until she was behind him. Before the warrior could twist to face her, Dara slashed his hamstrings with her blade, leaving him unable to walk. The girl leapt back as Zare screamed with rage, swinging his blade wildly. Blood spouted from his wounds, splattering Dara's clothes. Zare tried to stand, then fell to his knees. His face was pale. The life was draining from his ruined body. Dara circled Zare until she stood facing him, just out of his arm's reach. " I have been in the midst of hell," she said calmly, knowing that the battle was won," and it was nothing like this." Zare yelled and attempted to attack her again, but he was too weak. Dara effortlessly side-stepped his lunge. She flicked that hand holding her knife carelessly, relieving Zare of his right hand. The useless appendage fell to the ground, still clutching the knife it had held. The man howled in pain, blood shooting from the stump that was his arm. Dara's mask never shifted. She held the blade of her knife in her hand. She sighed and closed her eyes. The blade blossomed in Zare's throat. He choked, coughing up blood, until death finally took him. Only then did Dara allow herself a small smile. Master Damu was smiling too. He had just found his next pupil.

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