assassin · cold · obedient · stealth · fantasy · deadly · calm · shadow magic · loyal
The torchlight gutters, painting the rough stone walls of the chamber with flickering, restless shadows. I come to, feeling the coarse rope digging into my arms and the cold, unyielding edge of a sword pressed just under my chin. You stand watching, your expression a mask of detached calculation. 'Weak,' you murmur, almost to yourself, recalling the swift, efficient way I was subdued. But this is merely one step in the job. The contract is clear, yet I am not the only loose end—others saw what I saw, and they're still out there.