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PROLOGUE – Desert Sands…
…The
sun blazed above the Sograt Desert, just the same as any other day.. Already high in the sky, it shone its magnificent rays
of light down on the vast sea of burning sand. The sand felt smooth to the touch, flowing along with the gusts of wind that
was frequently blowing in this part of Mid-Earth. The wind howled, blowing along its daily paths, stirring up the sand into
the violent sandstorms that was not uncommon in these parts. Looking out onto the sandy plateau, a lone figure stood atop
a high ridge, beside a fallen amateur adventurer, who bore the clothes and insignia of a Novice…
…The sun
shone down burning rays of light and heat onto the young man’s rough hands, as he reached behind his head to tie his
long, black hair into a crude ponytail. His tanned skin contrasted with the blinding light overhead. Seems hotter today..,
he thought, as he fixed his cloak and pulled a well-worn hood over his head, protecting his eyes from the burning rays. He
sheathed his twin Damascus daggers and took out a small purse from his shirt pocket, slowly opening it and counting its contents
as he walked back towards the giant, triangular structures which held the base for all Thief class members. 848.. 849..
850.. Not much, but I suppose it will suffice.., hoping that the meager amount would be enough to “convince”
Instructor Roland that he was indeed a qualified candidate for the Assassin Trial Tests, a test few like him were privileged
and qualified enough to attempt…
…As he walked back towards the Moroccan Thief Headquarters, his mind stopped
to consider a thought he had not bothered to entertain a few minutes ago.. Those shadows.. The soft movement of the sand..
His mind wandered back a few minutes, focusing, trying hard to remember what else had he seen and heard other than the
young Novice’s plea for mercy, as he held his neck at the tip of a glistening dagger. Certainly not the most honorable
of deeds, but who am I to talk about honor? All that trash talk about honor and dignity were for the knights, but for a Thief?
Nah.. His mind went back and focused instead on the strange, soft sound of movement in the sand. Years of training in
the desert had accustomed him to the heat of the sun, the rustling of the wind, and had enhanced his senses and abilities.
Such was the specialty of the Thief class, being able to quickly sense danger and avoid it. Yet, though his eyes and ears
told him nothing, he sensed an aura of incredible power pass by, if even for a split second.. Dismissing it as his imagination,
he continued his trek back to the giant Pyramids of Morocc, looming in the distance…
CHAPTER 1 – Fated Meeting…
…This’ll
be a cinch.., he thought, as he walked toward one of the nearby Pyramids, nearly every other Assassin got through this
test through bribery, not skill.. Walking into the giant structure’s entrance, he was grateful for the shade it
provided, and the fact that the ancient Egyptians who built it were master craftsmen, perfecting the ventilation system and
keeping the desert heat out. Walking into the maze of ancient corridors and passageways, he hastened his pace, aware of the
shadowy presence following him. Having trained in this very structure for the past 7 years, he was confident that whoever
that was following him had no knowledge whatsoever of the dangers of the Morocc Pyramids..
…Taking a left turn,
he came across a Spore, a mushroom-like monster with a large mouth atop its head. The creature had not yet noticed him, as
its back was turned, its attention focused on something that the young man did not bother to take notice. Good.. He
silently unsheathed a dagger, raising it high, and plunged it deep into the Spore’s head. The creature let out a muffled
squeal, spraying out a purple sticky liquid on the young man’s face. “Ugh..” He wiped his face clean with
his sleeve and bent down to pick up any items of value. Nothing. He rearranged the corpse a little. Satisfied, he looked up,
and saw a pair of bats, split neatly in half at the midsection. Huh? Looking further into the dark hallway, he noticed
many more creatures – bats, Spores, Skeletons, even Mimics – all lying dead, split neatly in half. I’ll
look into this after I deal with that annoying shadow on my tail..
…Making a mental note to investigate the
strange sight later, he continued walking, away from the Morocc Thieves’ Guild. As he wandered further into the maze,
he began to wonder if the presence he sensed was merely a Thief patrol, as it seemed to have no trouble following him, at
the same time keeping a safe distance behind. Turning a corner, he smiled, Perfect.., he thought, as he slowly blended
in with the shadows..
…The shadowy figure noticed as he walked into the left hallway. Avoiding the purple liquid
flowing from the dead mushroom’s corpse, she silently followed. Reaching the intersection, she looked around. The young
Thief was nowhere to be seen. Suddenly, a male voice spoke out from behind her, “Who are you? And why were you following
me?”. She didn’t need to confirm what she already knew: a Hiding skill, and of quite a high level. He had actually
noticed me? Not bad.. “Hmm.. using existing resources as traps to determine an enemy’s location, blending
in with the shadows so easily.. You might have some potential after all.. Master Loki will be pleased..”, she spoke
in a soft tone, not concealing her strong but feminine voice. She turned around and looked into the young man’s dark
brown eyes, as she fixed the worn cloak around her mouth, covering the lower half of her face. “I might be seeing you
again soon.. Good luck” With that, she disappeared into the darkness…
…The young man watched silently
as she disappeared, observing what he could in the few short seconds that he could see the shadowy figure face-to-face. He
had instantly recognized that cloak, garb, and silent behavior as that of an Assassin. But why? And what did she mean?,
questions abounded in his uneducated mind. And that crest.. I know I’ve seen it somewhere before.. but where?
Pushing it to the back of his mind, he concentrated on the task at hand. I’m supposed to meet Sheila before the test..
what time was our appointment? He checked his watch, tilting it to read the time in the dark, torch-lit hallway. 4.39p.m.
He had little time. The test was scheduled to begin at 4.45p.m. Being the 12th candidate, that left him with about just under
6 minutes to spare. He hoped that Sheila hadn’t decided to dump him and go on ahead. And as he ran towards the Pyramid
Temple, his mind went back to the trail of dead creatures, which also happened to be heading in the same direction as he was..
…He
skidded to a halt in front of a young female Thief, standing just in front of the exam hall. She was a few inches shorter
than him, with short, brown hair and cute chestnut eyes. Her hair was tied into a ponytail, tucked neatly behind her headgear.
She was quite pretty, by his standards, and seemed to have a slight interest in him, although she never showed it. She looked
fuming, her cute face twisted into an angry scowl. “Where have you been, Zar-El?! I’ve been waiting here for exactly
16 minutes and 36 seconds! That’s 996 seconds in total!!” Wow.., he thought, she must have been really
bored.. “Where were you?!”, she demanded. “Well, I.. was checking on my pet Farmiliars.”, he answered,
unable to cook up a more convincing excuse. She gave him a sarcastic look, informing him that his answer was an incredibly
lame one.. Bats? That reminds me..., as his thoughts went back to the trail of dead bats..
…Sheila continued
to grumble on how he was always late for every appointment and mission he was sent to. Not listening to a thing she was saying,
his mind wandered off again, back to the trail of dead monsters. What could have caused that? All the monsters were sliced
perfectly in half.. no ordinary Thief could have done that.. unless.. Noticing Zar-El’s dreaming eyes, Sheila became
furious. A well aimed punch crashed into Zar-El’s nose, breaking his train of thought. “Are you listening to me
or not, Mr. Pervert?!”. Zar-El’s nose was bleeding too much for him to answer, not that he was supposed to answer
anyway. “Mr. Pervert?”, a male Thief interrupted, just as Sheila was about to ground Zar-El’s face into
the stone wall. “What makes you say that, Sheila?” Two others turned and looked at her, a mischievous glint in
their eyes. Sheila blushed slightly at his request, reminded of the embarrassing event that happened 2 weeks ago. “Oh,
hi, Dan..”
…Dan Heathrow was 2 years her senior, though his mischievous look and immature behavior denied
that. He was a skilled Thief who excelled in the art of stealing and hiding. Not really much of a fighter, he relied mainly
on his mastery of the Thief’s skills. Hiding and Blinding Dust (a cooler name for Throw Sand) were his specialty, which
gave him the nickname, “Sandstorm”. He resembled Zar-El in many ways – lazy, money-minded, mischievous,
with a taste for sexy, innocent girls (especially Acolytes), and a dry sense of sarcastic humor. The only difference being
the color of their skin, and their preference of weapons. Zar-El preferred the Damascus for its durability and attack power,
while Dan favored the Stiletto, for its lightweight frame and increased speed. Even though Dan was an upperclassman, he couldn’t
match Zar-El’s speed and skill in melee fighting.. or his amazing efficiency in peeping on the cuter female Thieves
in the Guild..
… “So, Dan..”, Zar-El interrupted, saving Sheila the embarrassment, “..how are
the other applicants doing in the trials?”. “Oh, yeah. That reminds me..”, the cute female Thief spoke up,
“..I’ve checked it out with a few other applicants already. Seems we’re not getting the usual Trial Master
this round.” “Really?”, Zar-El asked, obviously surprised. This time Dan spoke, his calm voice hiding his
perverted behavior, “Last year’s lucky bastards got Instructor Roland as Trial Master. This year they’re
getting some unheard-of Assassin from some faraway land.”. I don’t think that’s a good sign.., Zar-El
thought, a bit nervous now. “I don’t think he’ll be as easy on us as Roland normally would.”, Dan
said, also sounding nervous. Uh-oh... that’s definitely not a good sign.. “I hope he’s as cute as
they say he is..”, Sheila’s voice trailed off, wandering off into her own romantic fantasies. Dan looked at her,
a hint of disappointment in his eyes. He had a crush on her? So much for preferring matured women..
…
“Anyway, how’s this guy like? Any one of you seen him before?”, Zar-El asked, pulling Sheila back to reality.
“Not even the veterans like Takeda know anything of him.. He’s an unknown.”, Dan answered, also wondering
the same thing. “The only thing I’ve heard is that he doesn’t take bribes. Nathan tried to bribe him and
got his Zeny bag sliced in half! Even the Zeny inside were split in half!” Split in half..? Could that mean...? Streams
of thought went through Zar-El’s mind, as he heard his name called. Is he somehow connected to the trail of dead
bats?.. Could he be that skilled?.. Wasn’t every bat cut exactly in half? Stepping into the exam hall, he came face-to-face
with a dark haired Assassin, taller than the average man, who wore nothing but a set of normal, plain-looking clothes. Zar-El
was shocked when he realized what the man wore. He’s wearing last year’s fashion!! Oh my gosh, he is sooo out-of-date!
=P
…Zar-El had always been able to tell a person’s character just from his look. He took advantage
of this spare time to observe and learn the most of his opponent. Unlike other tests, Sheila had told him, this Trial Master
insisted on testing all candidates personally, instead of pitting them against monsters and observing their skill levels.
He was inspecting his weapons – two medium-sized daggers, with Eastern-looking designs down the hilts, the blades glistening
in the dim light. Razor sharp. The quick and precise movements of the Assassin’s hands flipping the daggers around showed
a skilled and dexterous killer. Although he stood at an easy, relaxed stance, Zar-El sensed an alertness in him, seeming to
notice every movement he made.. The moment I walk behind him and said hi would be the moment he spins around and slices
my head off.. He turned and inspected his own weapons – two large daggers, fashioned with solid Damascus steel.
When he turned back towards the Trial Master, their eyes met, and for a split second, Zar-El knew he should not underestimate
this guy, because from the very moment their eyes met, Zar-El could feel a tremendous killing instinct emanating from him,
just waiting to be released, waiting for a worthy foe.. And when he spoke, his voice, though spoken in a low tone, echoed
through the hall, “Greetings, Candidate 10567.. I am your Trial Master this year. My name is… ..Loki.”
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