Chapter 3: Thanatos

Ominous clouds covered the darkling sky. Not a breeze disturbed a branch in this windless twilight, as if the very air had been sucked from the world, along with sound. Everything was deathly quiet and still; except for a man passing through the corpses of trees that were dead and naked, stripped of leaves.

A low hanging branch caught his hair like a claw, and pulled free a silver-white lock. The man, dazed apparently, didn't seem to notice. He walked slowly and aimlessly.

This place reeked of the familiar, he thought. It filled him with a perverse sense of knowing; but of what, he couldn't remember. “Then again, it was always like this, wasn't it?” a sardonic voice somewhere inside him asked. He pushed the voice aside with a grunt. Suddenly, a sharp cold pain like a shaft of ice pierced his abdomen. An involuntary cry escaped his lips. As he looked down, he realized the voice was right. It was always right. It was always like this. A warmth replaced the icy coldness, washing through his- a dark stain appeared on his tunic, growing ever wider. Panicked, he jerked up his shirt. There it was, the dark hole, the fatal wound. Blood. So much blood. He put his shaking hand over the wound, but it just flowed over and around it, slipping through his fingers. So much blood.

He looked at his hand, bewildered. It was wet, slick, glistening, covered with- where did it all come from? Surely there wasn't that much... with that thought, he fell backward, strength suddenly and completely gone. As he lay there, still, he looked fixedly at the sky. He noticed, for the first time, a tiny patch of pure blue. He wanted to take it, to reach for it with his open hand, but his arm wouldn't move.

While he pondered this, the tiny patch of pure blue sky shrank as it was overtaken by the looming black clouds, then vanished altogether. He felt his eyes roll back, a feeling of weightlessness settling over him. A blast of blinding white light exploded in his vision, enveloping him in it's radiance...

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Cadoc's eyes flew open as he sprang up from the ground. Disoriented, with blurry vision, he took in his surroundings with a gasp. He shook his head to clear the fog from his mind. The wound! He threw off his cloak and tunic and inspected his smooth, undisturbed skin. “Foolish!” he clucked to himself. Just a dream, like always. This realization didn't stop him from checking again, though. Each time it was so real. It was like he really was... his thoughts trailed off.

The sunlight filtered through the trees, and the sound of birds twittering drifted through the air. Cadoc sank down to the loam and pulled his clothes back on, trying to calm his racing heartbeat. When did these visions start?, he wondered. He decided it must be all the killing catching up with him. Yes, that could be, but why now? It had never bothered him before, it was just... necessary, something to be done. No, wait; that wasn't true, was it? It had bothered him, but he had never recognized his own emotions enough to express it. Emotions were a weakness, a hindrance to what must be done. That was what he had been taught. He had doubts about that before, but it had seemed unwise to question his instructors.

So, why the regret now? Well, there was the affair in Cagrew... No! Cadoc quickly and viciously clamped down on the thought, not allowing it to form completely. But it creeped back in, crawling like a dark thing over the walls Cadoc had erected in his mind. As quickly as it started, the battle was over, Cadoc's mind laid bare to the relentless assault of memories.

The setting took form. It was night; a cloudy, windless, and moonless night. Cagrew had the dirtiest streets. No wonder Gareth left, Cadoc thought . Cadoc moved quickly through the streets, keeping to the poorer sections of town, where there were no lamps in the street, and no guards strolled.

Keeping an eye on an open window across the lane, he turned into an alley. He jumped on top of a refuse bin. Cadoc silently estimated the width of the alley. He guessed it was roughly six feet. Looking up, he saw the lip of the roof was ten feet above his head. Cadoc turned his body to face the opposite wall, and jumped toward it, planting both feet firmly on the stone. He turned his torso to the left, so he was facing the street. He launched himself up and back, toward the other wall. He extended his left leg, so only his left foot made contact with the stone. He pushed off the stone, upward and toward the other wall, right leg extended. In this manner, he made his way up the wall in three jumps, criss-cross fashion. At the final leap, he grabbed the lip of the roof and used his momentum to somersault over. He landed on his feet in a low crouch.

There were two good things about the city: once you were on the roof of the two-story houses, you could travel from one end of the city to the other without ever touching the ground. The second was abundant cover. Cadoc now made use of these things, crossing the roofs in a blur, darting between gables and chimneys at a doubled-over sprint. He leaped from house to house, scanning the roof tops for the sign that indicated the presence of his target. There it was, the square of tin nailed to the chimney. Cadoc removed the square and studied it. It was marked with a “P”, meaning proceed.

He put the piece of tin in his pocket, and walked to the edge of the roof. He looked at the window in the gable. These windows were rarely locked, but there was a possibility. Cadoc grabbed the edge of the roof and swung out. He pushed on the edge of the window. It moved slightly, with an imperceptible creak. Cadoc removed a vial of oil from his cloak and greased the hinges. Placing the vial back, he swung back onto the roof. He waited to see if anyone had heard the sound. After an indeterminable amount of time had passed, he grasped the edge of the roof and pivoted through the window. He landed softly, and looked around.

His vision had long since accustomed itself to the darkness. He was in a storage closet, full of linens and cleaning supplies. Cadoc crossed to the door and opened it, stepping into the hallway. He closed the door after himself. As he crossed the walkway to the target's bedroom, he wondered if he should have closed the window. Better to leave it open, he decided. It would serve as his exit.

He entered the bedroom, taking a long black dagger from a sheath under his cloak. His target was there in bed, breathing softly. Cadoc walked to the side of the man's bed. No! Please, I... I don't want to see this! Cadoc rebelled against the iron grip of his memories, but its' claws sank deeper into his mind.

Cadoc was standing over the man, dagger poised. The doorknob turned. “Daddy, can I stay in here tonight?” a small, high voice asked. The man in bed roused himself, sitting up. “What, princess?” the man began. He stopped, locking eyes with Cadoc. Please, no more... no...

The man snapped out of his stupor, and lunged for his bedside table. Cadoc's eyes followed the man's movement, registering the knife on the table top. Time seemed to slow as Cadoc leaped forward, thrusting the dagger into the man's throat, up to the hilt. The man's fingers curled around Cadoc's hand, struggling feebly. Blood spilled from his lips, his eyes wide. Cadoc turned his head, seeing a young girl standing still in numb shock and horror. Her mouth was open, but she made no sound. Why must I remember this? Don't...

Cadoc withdrew the dagger from the man's body and positioned the blade for throwing. Oh God, please, no, don't make me remember...

The girl turned to run at the instant the dagger left Cadoc's hand. The dagger- “Ahhhhhh!!”

Cadoc screamed, on his knees on the forest floor. He looked down at his hands; at the knife held in one, and the cut pouring crimson from the other. It worked, he thought. The pain distracted him from the memories.

He dropped the knife, suddenly feeling sick as he looked at his bloody hands. He groaned, and doubled over. His stomach heaved as he retched on the ground. When he had finished , he tumbled sideways in the dirt. Sobs wracked his body, hot tears coursing down his face.

Cadoc became gradually less aware of himself, isolating his emotions behind a barrier of numbness. He felt as if he was separated from himself, pieces of his psyche drifting apart. A sensation of floating came over him, like he was adrift in a deep, dark ocean. He began sinking into it. Shafts of light penetrated the ocean's surface overhead. He welcomed this new environment, opening his mouth to inhale. The rush of water into his lungs didn't hurt. There was no fear of drowning; he didn't care if he did. The dappled light shimmered and danced about as he sank deeper... deeper...

A blast of hot, moist air by Cadoc's ear jerked him back to full awareness. He turned his head to find a horse's large brown eye staring at him. Rayne snorted again and snuffled Cadoc's cheek. Cadoc reached up with one hand and scratched his horse's nose. “Worried I was forgetting your breakfast, I suppose?” he asked in mock exasperation. Cadoc rummaged through his pack, filling her feed bag and putting it on her. Suddenly he noticed blood on the feed bag. Alarmed, he rushed to check the horse, when he remembered his hand. He looked in his pack for a strip of cloth. “Cadoc?” said a voice from behind. Cadoc turned around, surprised. A young woman, an assassin such as himself, was standing in the clearing. She was slender, with the long white tresses and pale skin of their clan.

“Oh, Mara. What is it?” Cadoc asked, more brusquely than he intended. The tips of his ears flushed with embarrassment. He wondered how long she had been there. “I... brought something for your hand.” She faltered, looking down. She drew a strip from her pocket and gave it to Cadoc. “Thank you, Mara.” he said, wrapping the strip around his hand. “Um, how did that happen?” Mara asked innocently.

Cadoc looked at her, somewhat suspiciously. Just how long had she been watching him? “Ah, it's nothing. Don't worry about it.” Cadoc waved a hand dismissively. “Oh, I see.” Mara's brow furrowed slightly. “Cadoc, are you sure you're all right? You are acting rather-” “I'm fine.” Cadoc said, cutting her off. He looked away, wishing he was elsewhere. “Mara, I have to take care of something. I'll see you later.” Cadoc turned and gathered his gear. “Thank you for your kindness.” he said as he took Rayne's feed back off and mounted the horse.

He left the clearing feeling oddly about the encounter. It wasn't that he disliked Mara. She just unsettled him, putting him on edge. Whatever it was, she was gone now. There were other things to attend to.

Cadoc needed to meet with Gareth so they could ride for Raulton, a few days journey. Gareth was temporarily staying with another clan of V'jinn. Humans were not permitted to stay in the ancient territory of Cadoc's clan. However, the warrior clan of his race was very friendly with humans, even intermarrying with them. It was with them that Gareth was waiting.

The trees, bushes, and hills went by, surrounding Cadoc with the abundance of nature. He only gave the most cursory of glances to the passing verdance. A faint whistling came from the trees to his left. Cadoc instinctively ducked as a pine cone flew by, inches from his head. “Alright, who threw that?” asked Cadoc. Annoyed, he pulled his horse up sharply. Another pinecone from a different angle smacked into Cadoc's open palm as he dismounted Rayne. “You missed again, you lug!” a lilting female voice observed from the trees. “I didn't think he would catch it – ow!”

A second voice was cut short by Cadoc returning the pinecone. A tall male V'jinn dropped out of the tree, rubbing his forehead. He was followed by a shorter female, landing gracefully on the ground. She surveyed Cadoc with a smirk. “Just the man we wanted to see. Get up, dimwit!” She playfully kicked the taller V'jinn. “Lynn, Ainion! Good to see you.” Cadoc's face instantly brightened. The male V'jinn dusted himself off and walked to Cadoc. “Nice throw.” Ainion offered, shaking his hand.

“So what are you two miscreants up to now?” Cadoc asked Lynn. The diminutive V'jinn embraced Cadoc, flashing a brief smile. “Actually, we were looking for you. We...”

She paused, looking at the bandage on Cadoc's palm. “What's with your hand?” she asked dryly. “I'd rather not discuss the details.” he quipped, with a droll smile. She shrugged. “Suit yourself.” she said.

“Anyway, here's what I needed to tell you. You, me, Ainion, and Hild have been selected as the prospective recipients of an assignment.” Cadoc nodded.

Assassins were picked for an assignment based on their ability and level of skill. Targets were assigned to a small group of assassins who met the requirements of the mission. Those that are selected have the option of declining. The “pool” of assassins remaining drew lots to decide who proceeds. Only after the process concluded was the accepted agent informed of any details.

“I was informed I barely qualified as a choice.” Ainion ruefully told Cadoc. “You really enjoy killing that much?” Cadoc asked flatly. Ainion raised his hands, looking confused. “No, that's not what I-” Lynn waved him off curtly. “Cadoc, stuff your pacifistic drivel in a pipe and smoke it! You know that's not what he meant. Do you want him to turn it down? The council has anyone that does placed under watch till the next assignment.” Cadoc sighed. “You're right. I'm sorry, Ainion. None of us does this because they want to. Well, with a few exceptions. Still, I'm going to decline.” Ainion looked at Cadoc incredulously. “What are you talking about? Why?” he asked.

Cadoc studied his fingernails scrupulously. “I have some... personal matters to attend to.” he said. Lynn had a dubious expression on her face. “The kind of personal matters that require enough weaponry to take on a small army?” she asked tartly. Cadoc was taken aback. “What? I'm only carrying a sword, my handblades, and-” “Oh, come on!” Lynn interrupted. She loosed a sigh and rolled her eyes. “In your hands, anything more than a rock is enough to take out a regiment. Besides, I know your target is more than one person. How often do you carry your sword openly if you're going for a single person? I felt the handblades when I hugged you, and I'm sure you have four or five smaller daggers and knives-” “One.” Cadoc corrected, glancing upward. “Look, there's probably less than fifty of them.” Lynn froze, mouth open. “Fif... Cadoc! Are you insane?” Her eyes glinted with concern mixed with annoyance. “It's alright, I can handle it. Don't worry.” Cadoc placed a hand on Lynn's shoulder. She covered her eyes and shook her head, laughing. “I'm sure you can, but what on earth...” She trailed off.

Ainion shifted uncomfortably. “At least let us help. Take one of us along.” he offered. Cadoc shook his head. “Thank you, but I can't. Please just listen. This is something I have to do. Besides, you have things to do here.” “Okay, fine.” Lynn relented. “Just be careful.” Lynn reached up on tiptoes and cupped Cadoc's face in her hands. “Come back home in one piece. Promise.” she said, kissing his forehead. “I promise, Lynn.”, Cadoc said. Ainion snickered, mimicking Lynn on tiptoe. “Shut up, giant.” Lynn bit off, slinking away. Ainion and Cadoc laughed. “Bring yourself back soon. It's boring around here.” Ainion said, clasping Cadoc's forearm. Cadoc nodded. “I will. Take care!” Cadoc swung back into the saddle and started on his journey again.

He rode in silence, thinking to himself. If Lynn, Ainion, Hild, and himself had been contacted, something major was happening. Perhaps a dignitary had spoken too freely, or a nobleman was getting out of line. The last time he had handled something like that... Cadoc swallowed and turned his thoughts elsewhere.

Hild, huh? It made sense. Apart from Lynn, she was the only one who could touch him in combat, speed, or agility. She was good to have on your side, but... Cadoc didn't think she was “on” anyone's side. Her only concern was what she considered to be the good of the clan. Her manner was stiff, formally cold. Because of this, she was unapproachable and virtually friendless.

Cadoc diverted his attention back to the road. He would be with Gareth in an hour.