Blood's Whispered Sonata

[Afin]

Often, when we let ourselves live a lie, the lie becomes true, and we exist as the beast we always said we weren’t.

A beautiful new moon sat, nestled among it’s shining brothers and sisters, happily shining down on the world below. It’s soft light played across a pond, a rich recreation of nature surrounded by a lush garden kindly cared for on a daily basis. A few neatly kept shrubs grew nearby, for the pond was set close to a tall brick wall which surrounded it’s environment, and these shrubs hugged the perimeter. A stone path trailed thoughtlessly through the garden, at one point seeming to make close friends with the pond before veering off to allow it’s travelers entrance to a patio. All of it, in it’s grandeur, was built by a very rich artisan who had quite too much financial success and didn’t have any imagination when it came to spending. The quaint garden had been the result, and the garden wall that had been originally intended to be a defense was currently being used as an entry point.

A soft clink echoed unheard into the night. The maker of the sound stood far below on the street outside the manor, holding a blackened rope in her hands. High above, a steel kunai lay wedged between two shingles on the overly decorated wall, not willing to budge one inch. The woman tested the rope gently at first, then pulled with all her weight. Finding assurance in her inability to break the shingles, she grasped the rope with both hands and planted her feet on the wall.

Hundreds of times, she had snuck inside a residence in such a manner, but this time her heart beat with a profound fear. Before, it had always been a mission, a goal given to her by Darith, a man with wisdom and intelligent that far surpassed her own. It was plotted out before her with clear cut objectives, and no room for error. Her mind could grasp it with certainty and gain clarity from that assurance. This time, she worked by herself, simply on a hunch and tiny shreds of information gathered from the local citizens of this city. They were friendly people, these Akashimans, but her mind grew uneasy as she climbed up the side of the building. Every one of them that knew of the artisan had warned her that the artisan never took any guests except one man dressed in white with long, fair blonde hair and a calm smile. All who had witnessed this guest spoke of a chill taking hold of their body and a strange fear striking them. There was no doubt in her mind who the stranger was.

Finally the girl grasped the ledge of the small roof that ran atop the garden wall. Pulling herself up quietly she stared into the scene below. One guard sat relaxing under a sakura tree, possibly dozing off to the cool night breeze and wonderful scents of Akashima’s Capital City. Only two lit lanterns stood in the garden, and one of them was between her and the guard, fortunately. In her dark garb, she was easily assured that he would not spot her, even if the man happened to look her direction. Soundlessly as she could manage, she removed the kunai and replaced both it and the rope to their rightful place before sliding off the wall into the shadows behind the wall of shrubs. The designer of the garden had only aesthetics in mind when he made a gap between the short shrubs and the garden wall, for it was at the same time a large flaw in defenses.

Death is a singular event that we must all visit. Though no quarrel lay between this victim and me, some must die for they had the misfortune of blocking my path.

Jeremiad whispered as she drew him from his resting place, too quiet to be noticed by the unlucky watchman. Moving as swiftly as she dared in the confined space, the girl positioned herself directly behind him. Peering out above the bush’s level rim, the intruder checked once more for any additional eyes. Patience was a key, and she scanned the environment around her carefully, but found nothing. It was an opportune moment, and this assailant never let an opportunity pass her by unnoticed.

Not a sound was heard as the girl garbed in the colors of night leapt from her hiding, her hands reaching around to softly but firmly grasp the man’s mouth and nose. His eyes leapt open in surprise, his final words were squelched before they could be born, for the man’s throat had filled with blood. One black blade slid deeper into his neck, and his eyes went dull, the life stolen from his body. Gently, the girl eased his head down to a docile position on his chest. She watched his body for signs of life, finding none, yet discovering how he man appeared to only be sleeping. The blood stains filling his dark red clothes could not be seen in the dim night. Smiling at the beauty of the scene, she carefully cleaned Jeremiad and returned him to his bed.

[Afin]

Unsure of herself once more, she stared from his place behind the Sakura tree at the grand estate. It had been built in the traditional Akashiman architecture, and featured a main building that could only be described as a tower. Many shingled ledges, depicting the different levels of the building, flew out, decorated with statues of oni to protect from outsiders. Such beasts would not give solace from her kind, however, for they were but innate stone. In contrary to his neighbors, this residence was far more traditional than one would find today in the Capital City, featuring none of the Radasanthian technique that many other rich and noble land owners found favor in. The artisan who had it commissioned was dead, though, and his intentions are lost to the abyss. The current owner was a stranger to Akashima, and none of his neighbors appeared to know who he was or how he had afforded such a grandiose place to live.

Unfortunately, it was also more foreign to the interloper. She saw the silk sliding door that acted as the entrance to the garden, and realized it’s use instantly. The room behind it was brightly lit, and if anyone was inside and walked through it, she would notice a shadow on the thin door’s material. At the same time, any light behind her would instantly make anyone inside aware of her presence if she strode too close to the door. It was an option, but hopefully not the best.

Looking higher, the girl noticed the second story windows were all left open, no doubt welcoming the cool night’s breeze. As she watched the window, a shadow suddenly passed it front of it giving her a fight. Collecting herself, her eyes darted to the dark figure that sneaked across the shingled roof, not making a sound. From this distance, she could not discern much other than the fact that it was dressed entirely in black and did not seem to want to be seen. A question bubbled forth instantly, ‘Friend or foe?’ It was a risk, but she stood from her hiding place and ran towards the wall, her footsteps silent.

With a whisper to the wind, she leapt atop the wall’s miniature shingled roof and turned, striding across it as quickly as she could soundlessly. It was not long before she reached a point where the roof of the first floor came dangerously close to the garden wall, creating a haven from the elements to those sitting below on the patio. With a daring leap she bridged the gap and landed on the roof, not as gracefully as she would have liked but so far her movements had not gained the attention of the other intruder.

Attention was paid to the windows as she moved past them, conspicuously checking for anyone inside who might spot her. Ahead she noticed that the figure was moving in a steady motion, confident that nobody was watching and not once did it turn to look inside a window. There was purpose in the way it moved, and deadly grace in every step. She was catching up, but the figure was reaching the edge of the roof and would soon turn to move along another side, possibly spotting her from its peripheral. Taking his example and forgetting her worries, the girl ceased her caution and burst into a run towards the figure, drawing Jeremiad at the same time. One moonlit blade in each hand, soothing her heart and giving her the bravery to face anything, she leapt in front of the figure, bringing the blades before her, ready to strike. With a loud whisper, she called out to the fellow interloper.

“Who are you, and what business do you have here?”

Calmly, the assassin stopped and stood upright. Closer now, she could see that it was definitely a man, clothed in an outfit that was very reminiscent of the stories of Ninja that she had heard of. They were a sect of trained men and women that were below the social class, and therefore normally invisible. However, they were also trained in a very deadly combination of arts that mastered on secrecy, stealth, espionage, and causing a quick and unnoticed death. Much of their way had interested her, and to meet one in such a situation was both amazing and frightful. Then he spoke, a calm and crisp voice at a level that showed he had no fear of being overheard.

“I am Ryuken Matsuyami, Third of the Twenty Three, and assassin by trade. You are rather presumptuous to block my path on this roof and make demands of me. It is my turn, child, who are you? If I like your answer I‘ll tell you why I‘m here.”

[Afin]

The title, Third of the Twenty Three rang in her head as if an echo from the past, but she put it aside. The girl stood more at ease, for he had revealed himself without hesitation and held doubtless confidence in his own abilities. It gave her the impression that her feeble knowledge and experience in battle would be prove her to be nothing but a fly to be swatted by him. Still wary, for it was stupid to allow her guard to lower, she answered, no longer bothering to whisper.

“I am called Sinner, and I am an Agent of the Lavinian Thief Guild. I am not here on business for the guild though… I have a private matter to discuss with the owner of this estate.”

Sinner’s words were answered with a soft chuckle from Ryuken, and a shake of his head.

“If you were here to simply talk to Akuro, then you wouldn’t have killed that man in the garden. However, if you intend to threaten him, then I should warn you, he is not a push over. I like your ambition, and if you wish, I’ll help you reach him. That is, if that’s what you want, child?”

Ryuken’s words took Sinner by surprise. She had expected a battle, leading to the victor being the one to find the owner of the estate and finish their task. Instead, the man appeared to be genuinely offering assistance. Her annoyance at being called a child was lost in the possibility of having such an elite member of the Ninja community on her side. He would be more familiar with the architecture of Akashiman buildings, and far greater skilled in deftly and quickly taking down any obstacles that crossed their path. It would be an invaluable asset, and it seemed too good to be true.

“What is in it for you, Ryuken?”

The Ninja nodded, as if approving the question, “If I help you reach the top floor of this tower where Akuro lives, you must first help me in obtaining an item that I know to be on the level above us. The only problem is that there are many guards on that level, for the item is of some value to Akuro. You will help even the odds.”

“And what if I refuse?”

Ryuken wore a black mask across his face, but Sinner could tell that a smile formed behind it.

“That would be unfortunate, because then I would have to kill you. You are either walking beside me, or an obstacle to be rid of.”

As if to emphasize his point, two long deadly blades slid out of the wrappings at his wrists. They were katars etched in the Akashiman language, with a sick and refined edged that had been used many times. They were simple, but very deadly, and he held them as if they belonged in his hands. Discerning her awe and growing fear, Ryuken made a small and deft flourish with his hands and the weapons disappeared once more into the folds of his sleeves. The threat was well received, and Sinner replaced Jeremiad to his home.

“My blades are yours, then, Ryuken Matsuyami, until we leave this man’s home.”

“Good enough. Let’s go.”