He found himself in this world not knowing where he came from or where he was. No parents in sight or anyone claiming him, let alone approaching him. What little clothes he had were torn and barely fitting his emaciated body. He had no one to teach him anything but life taught him well and harshly of hunger, cold, fear and passed her lessons about the necessity of caution. He was merely six years old, with no memories to lead him or faces to pursue in the sky's starts or the earth's trails. He did stumble on a similar patch of children just like himself; without a past and no real present but he did not find himself belonging to any herd. A boy of few words, not caring if he found his day hunt or not, not interested if the morsels he stole were stale or fresh, moldy or delicious. He did not belong with those children and the grownups did not approach him either, even distancing themselves further from him when his face revealed how he found the pennies thrown at him a tasteless act. Still, he did not look for a job, he did not know how to do anything and feared communicating with anyone for a reason he could not understand. Avoidance was his nature so he went to the forests and wondered the less occupied villages, running from any kind of noises or lights. He was averted to any language, animalistic or humane, and to any shape of contact, rough or gentle. This isolation, ingrained into his system for reasons or memories he did not care to remember honed his senses, strengthening them to those of a night bat or a hunting falcon though he never soared like the latter or was feared like the first one.
It was as if he never existed. A creature of a lonesome nature, staying in the shadows, content with the scraps of food he came across though not seeing the point in feeding his hunger or quenching his thirst. His existence was not vital for the flow of life to continue yet he persisted, just like his existence, not knowing why or for what purpose.
He just could not stop himself from going on.
Until two accidents marked the true beginning of what others called life. After a year of travelling on his own without a clear destination, opting to the dangerous routes of the forests and unpopulated places, he came across a man no one should have been able to come across.
He was a man in his mid-forties, the color grey starting to dye his hair but not his spirit. A robust body yet lithe and quick leaving no traces behind or evidence of ever passing by, but the boy still found him. Along the whistles of the wind and the mild tree rustle, he found a man filling his jug with water from a river. The man, one of a stoic face that did not display expressions, was still surprised that someone stumbled upon his sealed presence. The boy approached him for no reason, his avoidant behavior disappearing and replaced by curiosity or some other ambiguous force people called destiny.
That man, bearing no name either, only a notorious reputation as the most skilled assassin that left no evidences behind or trails to track, who worked for anyone and no one, only contacted via special signals. He would deliver the wish of some lord or king killing the intended target, then swing to the other side to claim their revenge as long as he was paid.
No one knew anything about him or why he chose that way of living. Loyalty was not a trait he possessed, in contrast to the secrecy amounting to a job well – done. So when that man was easily spotted and found by a little boy, there was only one solution to the problem and he did not hesitate to follow it. Unsheathing his sword and placing it at the boy's of six or seven years throat, he was once again taken by the lack of fear or pleas for mercy from his soon to be victim. That boy did not fear death, for he did not understand its concept and did not bother to do so despite the countless rotten bodies he came across on his travels and the many graveyards he spent the nights in. Deciding this was the most befitting merit of an assassination, the man decided to take the boy under his wings and the latter did not refuse. Not seeking company or shelter, but only to find a purpose which the man was straight forward in stating it to the boy without softening his words or rephrasing his cause with more hopeful dreams.
"You were born to be an assassin, you have an innate talent, and I will teach you."
The prospect would sound dim to anyone else but not to the boy who just wanted to discover why was he born so he followed after the man, and by the age of eight he was the perfect tool. There were no barriers he could not overcome, no prey could escape his dagger, and no trace was left behind to be tailed back to him, he who did not exist within the huge world. Thus, he continued to live in the shadows, not that different from before. The assassin did not even give him a name, because people like themselves needed not a name, just as they did not need a presence.
Despite the ruthless nature of his master, the boy still found that he despised certain things; killing women and kids, killing poor people or disabled ones. However, he did not argue against such demands thinking this was an avoidable part of the life he was still discovering.
His master was a wanted man, whether for his services or for his head. He had a habit of disappearing for long periods of time just to reappear as suddenly as he had disappeared, until one day, the period grew longer, and the boy was certain his mentor and only constant thus far would not come back.
Although this idea was not packed with proofs, the best thing he had was his hunch, and he learned to trust it the same way he trusted his dagger never to fail him.
The boy did not find a reason to leave the last place where he was left, or perhaps abandoned, for reasons he could not guess and did not want to. Maybe he had become a man who can depend on himself, but then again, he had always depended on himself. He did not hate the man who departed from his life the same way he appeared, suddenly without a reason other than that "destiny" and maybe that man did not carry all the pieces that are meant to weave his own destiny.
He resided in the shed they occupied for few weeks as food was still abundant there and it was close to a clean river, so he did not find a rationale for leaving yet.
The second important event to shape the rest of his life was on its way, as a caravan of merchants spotted the boy who did not bother to hide his presence. The smoke coming out of the shed was prove enough someone lived there, and when the band of merchants realized the occupant of that house was a lonely child of eight, they took him with them and he did not find a reason to resist or try to escape though he could do so with ease, he could even kill them all had he wanted to but he still went with them, compelled by the same strange force that drew him to that mysterious man. Even after knowing he was not taken along out of hospitality or kindness, but rather to be sold as a slave, he did not find the idea abhorring as it should be. First, this was a job like his previous one. Secondly, if he did not like where he ended he could easily murder the entire household and disappear.
However, that was not meant to be. He stayed for months at the display stage and no one was interested in a lanky grim looking boy. The merchants did not know how long it would take before he would be bought by someone, and started looking for alternatives. A stern yet lecherous member of the merchants suggested he take the boy to himself, but just as this was to be decided after giving the boy one last chance at the stage, a palanquin crossed by and stopped at that particular stage, from which his new destiny that would become his whole reason for existence and persistence left the palanquin, and with a quick look of her green eyes, she pointed at the boy to the merchants and the other buyers surprise. She bought him with a cheap price since he was for long on display and undesired by anyone.
Not much bargaining could be made about him and his value which he did not reflect or show a hint of.
Lady Sabina took him home, bathed and clothed him well yet never made her purchase official, not recording the boy as a slave or a servant of hers. Her decision was a wise one, because by watching the boy, although for few seconds, she realized his nature; a creature of the shadows, a perfect assassin. She asked him what his name was and he had no answer to that, so she named him a befitting name, revealing that she knew o of his hidden talents and capabilities, and the boy was quick to understand what the noble woman wanted from him.
She named him Ombra, and for the first time, the boy's body flooded with emotions as he cried thanking her for giving him a name she could call him with, a name of his own bestowed by the woman he pledged to revere and obey for the rest of his life.
The boy did not realize how beautiful and safe it was to have a name and be called by. By naming him she told him that he did in fact exist but only in her presence. She was the light that reflected his shadow, and he became the shadow that would protect her light.
Holding at times the same ruthlessness of his previous master, she still carried grace and principles that captivated to the boy. He was so charmed and grateful for the sole act of bestowing him with a name that he did not hesitate to do whatever she asked of him, even remaining in the shadows and never vilifying her presence with his own; appearing only when he was called, doing only what he was told. He did not argue with her once, and obeyed any order she gave and completed the missions she assigned to him the way she wanted and the way he was trained.
He did not lament his existence in the shadows, but he grieved not being able to step into that woman's light. He did not have use for her world, he did not care to be seen with her, but he grieved not being welcomed to be seen by her. She explained to him what his purpose was; serving her without any official affiliation, never pausing any questions or suggestions, and never acting out of his own will.
The truth was that he did not have a will. Since he had no dreams or ambitions he did not need a will, though it was what kept him going on, but this "will" was replaced contently with that woman's will and dreams.
Serving her was his destiny and purpose and he would not trade these for anything in the entire world.
She became his world, his home, and the savior of feelings he did not believe he was born with or could learn of. Yet merely seeing her passing by the corridors of her homes, riding her carriage, demanding his presence was enough to prove that, in fact, did have feelings that could only be enlivened and dedicated to that woman and that woman alone.
He knew she was using him, she told him the moment she purchased him and he was more than happy to perform any task asked of him. His daggers was his weapon, and he became hers or so he thought until the bright of red and gold radiated not only beyond his shadowy existence, but beyond the entire existence of this world seizing it charmingly and powerfully, as he could never do or was allowed to.
These two spears seized his mistress's, or his destiny's, interest and attention. And mission after mission, the two blades replaced the sole dagger and he was reminded more often of his true place though he did not need to be told, and was chided for stepping out though he only did so to break the allure of the man with the teardrop shaped mole beneath his eye. He hated him, for he made him for the first time in his life feel threatened and in danger. The boy was ready to dig his heart out with his own dagger or bare hands if Lady Sabina asked him to, she knew he was loyal to do so if she demanded, a deed the dual wielder would never do for her sake or for her mere amusement, as he was ready to perform the act even if it was for indulging a whim or testing a loyalty that was still unwavering.
Suddenly, he was pushed to the shadows by that man's light, while before his entrance into his Lady's life, he was the one who chose the shadows and remained in them since they were weaved by the light she radiated.
That man could walk in the brazen day light that he was denied, and do what he himself was capable of doing but through different measures. Was that what captivated his Lady's attention?
That man had stolen his destiny, he had taken the light from him like a greedy hole that swept his existence though of that the dual wielder had plenty, one that was filled with a family once, with friends, with a beloved, and now with crowds of people who hailed him and adored him.
Sabina was direct and stern with him yet played the game of words and negotiations with the impudent lancer who was blind to his lady's light and dared argue with her graceful principles. What irritated him even more, was that his lady was willing to waste her precious time on convincing him and arguing back with him while she had a shadow that would do whatever she demands and wants unconditionally.
He never knew he was liable to having feelings, and plenty of them at that. Hatred, rage, envy, despise and he was for the first time aware that those negative feelings could co – exist, even grow out from the feelings of love, admiration and loyalty.
This discovery led to another; that though he had replaced his will with his lady's will, he still had one of his own and he was ready to utilize it though for her sake, never selfishly for his own.
***
Taking matters into his own hands for the first time in his life, he did not think of the decision as disobeying or standing up to his mistress. Instead, he wanted to make what he believed was her dream come true, proving to her that he was the most dependable man whom she could turn to, who could grant her wishes without the need to be persuaded or even ordered outright. He knew her desires and wanted them to be realized by his hands alone. He was not seeking an award or appreciation. In the end, he did not believe she was the one who needed him, he knew he was the one in need of her, to draw his life lines, to fill the gaps in his existence, to bequeath it with a meaning. So in order for her to outline his destiny, he wanted to prove to her that he was still capable with his sole dagger to do what she thought only the flashy blades of gold and red could do. Venturing on his own outside her home for the first time, without being given a command or a target, he knew what the mission was and who the object of this mission was as well. He had snuck through castles and fortresses before, sneaking into the palace even without a clear outlay in his mind for it, did not present on obstacle. Through the windows, along the ceilings, amidst the plentiful guards, he snuck unnoticed like his name, shadow. Not a sound was given out of him, not a footstep echoed, even his breathing rhymed with the whiffs of the air blending with the naturally flowing current. He only moved when a soldier made a movement, merging his puny existence with the movements of the things around him, molding any gesture he made, down to the blinking of his eyes along whatever moved, blending into the walls and statues, becoming a part of the curtains and furniture. He did not stir a breeze out of place or make a sound not normally heard at the palace. No attention was drawn, no speculations or doubts prompted the guards to check on anything. He was indeed inside the palace, going further and further into the least guarded and most suitable place for his upcoming assassination of the governor, his bed chambers. He could lurk there till the night descends then deliver the final blow, a dagger to the heart, which would kill the governor and revives Sabina's heart and faith in him.
He was inside the palace, but he did not exist there.
As the boy easily penetrated the palace, the governor's safe place, not an emotion was shown on his face or felt in his hear. Neither fear nor cautious anticipation. Thrill and excitement did not exist either. His heart and soul were muted like the statues he blended with, those displaying through their stony carvings more emotions than he possessed or could feel, let alone display.
He was just as his previous master described him, the perfect assassin.
As he went deeper inside without catching anyone's attention, he regained his self – confidence which the twin spears of roses and sun were plunging at, sinking it in a pool of doubt and resentment.
A sense of pride, one he was not familiar with, slowly started to possess his feelings and movements, his heart throbbed loudly in pleasure though it should not, and had never before. He could remember distinctly down to the minute details when he last heard his heart throb or beat, it was as Lady Sabina descended from her palanquin and looked at him. But this feeling was different, the admiration once given entirely to that woman was now trying to don his existence. As if a part of that admiration split from its wholesomeness that was the candle he lit at his Lady's shrine, and was now shining in his own.
For the first time, he smiled with pride and satisfaction during his mission.
"You can come through here, the tiles that need fixing are over there…"
He heard a servant speak leading a group of people, builders more likely by his words, and all his vital functions stopped.
Why did a flicker of fear cut through his heart? It was impossible for him to fear anything. Even if he failed or was caught he could easily escape though this would mar his new gained pride badly and deeply. But then it came to his mind; this was not the first time he had felt fear; did not the two spears infect him with this feeling? The fear of his lady's abandonment and dismissal of his services? He realized that he knew fear but could not allow it to take over him.
He did not realize he had already let fear take over all his existence when he decided to act on his own, trying to dim the shine of those cursed blades that fascinated his mistress. The moment he decided to face them, venturing on his own, was the first declaration of his ability to feel fear, although he was not aware of the fact.
The servant leading the group of workers passed by the point where he was hiding up in the ceiling and he breathed to his surprise a sigh of relief.
It was fine as long as they came to fix the floor or even the walls, but not the ceiling where he was hiding, he could use the noise the workers would make to his advantage. He latched to the hidden curves of the fancily designed palace, waiting for the workers to go as they bypassed him.
"The floors there need some fixation too, I see…"
One of the workers commented. Taking a look at the part of the floors the worker was pointing at, the servant nodded in agreement.
Not only was he skillful, he was lucky too. The assassin smiled again feeling that he was about to possess the world, the only world he knew, Lady Sabina's admiration by the realization of her wishes and dreams.
"These can be fixed easily and quickly, let us focus on the most daunting task."
Another worker suggested, and the head of the workers agreed with the statement. Lathing to his spot on the ceiling like an insect to jam, the boy was paralyzed by fears out of nowhere. Coming upon threats and obstacles during his mission was not unusual, and he always managed to avoid them successfully but it was that feeling of pride and satisfaction that made him commit a grave error of judgment. His growing self - confidence blinded his eyes and slurred his judgment. He should have changed his spot the moment the servant pointed to the tiles on the ceilings, instead he remained in his place when the workers were drawn to the floors.
Believing in his luck was his mistake. Yielding to his pride held his doom.
He wanted to retreat slowly, to change his position, without abandoning the mission, not after he had reached this far. His new sense of pride, which he did not know yet how to use did not allow him to escape but by the time he realized that he was hiding in the same tiles that needed fixing, his previous assassin's instincts which he ignored in favor of the new mixture of feelings he was introduced to, flamed indicating danger but it was already too late for him to escape. A worker went up and started removing the tiles but he suddenly screamed and fell on his back.
"There is a bat there!"
"There is no bats in the palace, how dare you suggest so?"
The servant angrily protested, as the rest of the poor workers laughed at their companion but the guards that were under strict instruction and on high alert under Germanous's growing paranoia did not want to risk angering him so they immediately mobilized themselves where no point of escape or spot for hiding was reachable.
He had known fear just now, but it was nothing like the fear when he was dragged down, surrounded by soldiers despite managing to injure some of them while trying to turn his tail in defeat and look for a window or an escape route to no avail. He was totally surrounded, even his instincts and senses failed him upon knowing of this feeling. And after being hiding securely and confidently in the ceilings, he was thrown on the ground, ten swords pointed at him, with no hopes for escape.
An assassin should feel nothing, and through these tense moments since he sneaked into the palace, all sort of feelings started sprouting inside him like young buds, waiting to be watered and grown by his Lady's gratitude and admiration, by a simple word of acknowledgement or praise. He was questioned on the spot, but he answered nothing, never risking his Lady's safety, even when the guards assumed he was some survivor of the "Justice Pallbearers" due to his costume and manners who sought to avenge his fallen comrades, he did not deny or refute despite being offended by the suggestion.
Then, his bright of hope walked by.
He did not know that Lady Sabina was visiting the palace that day and he did not know how to feel about the matter, but another feeling, another small bud of hope started to grow inside of him, as he eyes, though they should not have, drifted immediately to the walking woman who stopped upon noticing the commotion. Her eyes met her shadow's eyes, and while a rose of hope started quickly to bloom in the young boy's heart, the woman's eyes remained cold and neutral, just as the first day he met her. But that did not dim his hopes, that was the way she had been always looking at him.
Sabina approached the soldiers and workers who could only bow to her gracefulness and majestic walk, though some of them did not know who she was. She asked calmly.
"What seems to be the matter here?"
The guards looked at each other wondering if they should reveal such a dangerous information to the woman who openly detested the governor? But a guard who knew her very well, could not ignore her for long so he opted to answer briefly.
"We caught this man sneaking into the palace, it is not a matter your grace should bother yourself with. We will take action immediately."
The young boy looked hopefully at the woman, waiting to hear words in his defense or a claim that he was a part of her entourage who lost his way. She had the influence to save him, she could negotiate for his life with Germanous, the boy knew she held many cards against him.
She could and would save him without a question. After all, he was her most trusted servant, and the man who did everything, every command and order asking for nothing in return. But when their eyes met again, he knew hope was not a beautiful feeling, it was adorned with beauty yet filled inside with deceit. The coldness he had never witnessed a match to it before in her eyes, and the harshness with which she was burning his blooming bud and opening flower with, seared all his hopes. Out of his control, his lips mumbled:
"I am a servant of Lady Sabina who got lost!"
"Really? Then what you were doing up in the ceiling?"
An enraged soldier by the bold statement of the obvious assassin, defiling the governor's cousin honor, asked as he held tighter to his sword. Still, the poor lad did not listen to a word the soldier said, his eyes lingering on the cold harsh face of his Lady, knowing she could find the perfect explanation or negotiate her way with the soldier… however, only cruel words left her mouth.
"I do not know this man, I have not seen him before. If you wish to question me any further, I am ready."
The blaze of hope burning in the boy of fifteen was frozen by the iciness of the woman's tone and stare that were passing the judgment of failure upon him.
"We do not doubt that my lady!"
Another soldier exclaimed, making the trapped boy amidst the swords flutter like a caged bird, crawling on his knees and trying to grasp the graceful woman's long dress, to remind her who he was despite knowing she had not forgotten.
Was this his punishment for acting without her orders although his intentions were for her sake and happiness? These concepts which he had devoted his life for seemed foreign to the woman who was eyeing him pitilessly.
Was she proving her point and did he prove her right… that he should have never tried to compare himself with the brilliance of the two spears?
Hope was the worst of feelings. He learned of this too late despite only learning of this feeling moments ago.
"Do whatever you see fit."
Sabina stated her final brutal words before leaving, insisting one more time that when the matter is brought to Germanous, she should be contacted and present as this low life dared to associate himself with her, trying to use her as an escape route for his vile plan.
The boy wanted to scream, declare louder that she was his mistress, that he was a part of her household, that he belonged to her. He did not wish to do this to drag her down along with him but to establish that some sort of bond existed between the two of them. Then he realized that she was not lying. There was nothing official between them, not even a document of ownership. But did bonds need to be signed and sorted into papers and documents?
Apparently, this was the case. All his previous missions done for her sake, all the times he risked his life for her were not meaningful if not bound by a contract.
She abandoned him the same way hope did, the same way life neglected his existence. Just when he thought he belonged to and existed in someone's world, the most precious world to him, her world, he learned that he did not.
Still, not a single word was uttered by him about her or her previous schemes. If he did not belong in her world, he still held to it and believed in it.
Lady Sabina walked away, already leaving him in a pool of his own blood and screams of pain, the definite end to all beings even those that had not existed to begin with.