Chapter Text
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Etho lurked in the bushes, well concealed by the dark shadow of the night. The wall was close by, this was the closest he had gotten to it yet since he started watching the patterns of the guard’s watch.
From the positioning of the moon, he could assume it was just enough time from midnight that the interchange of the guard would occur. He had observed this often during the days he spent scouting out the castle, he knew there was only a small window. The sand in the hourglasses was already running out.
It was now or never.
-
“As you have been made aware of since the first minute you were recruited to join this organization.” The man spoke with determination, “This is your initiation from apprentice ranks into full membership.”
Etho understood this entirely. As a child he had been found by them, raised as an assassin and not much else. And sure, he’d found people who treated him like a person, but first and foremost, he was a cold-blooded killer. They all were.
“ Are you paying attention? Homie?” Skizz lightly tapped him on the arm.
“Huh? Oh yes,” he said in a hushed tone, refocusing on the mandatory speech. The man droned on about protocol and the purpose of TIES. That it was first and foremost a political organization with the goal to disrupt the power balances in society and overthrow monarchy.. again, all things he’d heard before.
He was only one of a few apprentices set to gain member status this year. Himself, Skizz and a plethora of familiar yet unrecognizable faces.
“And this is to be a solo mission, one completed in a short time span. This entails, no missions should overtake the timeline of a month. Including scout time and execution. This is your proof of loyalty. If not completed, you will be hunted down and killed. For the training we have given you is far too valuable to be let loose into the world. This is your only and last chance to not only save your lives but to prove your loyalty to TIES,” the man made a point to glare at Skizz as he said that. Sure, Skizz had gone through this process three times now, each attempt going wrong in a different way.
Skizzleman was a good assassin, but awful at re-con and assessing if there was magic at play. The time with the weird watcher cult was not his fault though, how could he have predicted that? This time however, there was no second or third chances, even for freak accidents.
-
His week spent scouting out the castle was well spent, there being a small gap of time in which the only guard on patrol was the redhead undead woman who never slept. There were normally two guards minimum on patrol, he knew this was his opportunity.
He noticed that after the change, the light blue haired man would always be replaced by a hyper vigilant woman in red. He hoped to avoid her, and her many dogs that would patrol around the grounds.
With a deep breath, and stepping out from the trees into the moonlight, he brandished his signature daggers. The black of his outfit, helping to conceal him, aside from the green vest with white fluff which lined the hood which stuck out like a sore thumb. Although visuals were not a problem at this point, the redhead undead woman was patrolling the east end and he was scaling the west walls.
He lodged the blades of his knives into the gaps between the stones of the wall, holding on tightly to the sturdy handles. He pressed his feet to the walls, attempting to stabilize himself just a bit, as he climbed higher and higher. He had a few more moments before the dogs would be out, and alarmed by the sudden presence of his scent.
-
“Each of you will be assigned a monarch or important political individual. They all have their individual challenges, but none too much more difficult than the others,” absentmindedly he wondered who he would have to kill. He didn’t particularly enjoy the act, didn’t derive any sick pleasure from the concept of another’s life draining away, not like others did. But this was his family, or at least the only thing he had resembling it. He had an affinity for this place, and these people.
The man was droning on, listing names when he finally got to Skizz. “Skizzleman, you are assigned King Ren Dog of Dogwarts,” the man spoke, and beside Etho Skizz tightened up, having apparently heard that name before. “Etho, you are assigned to kill our very own Prince Joel of Stratos,” he said, almost too briefly.
He should be thankful that unlike the others, this assasination did not require a day’s boat trip to the mainland from the island. He found it odd however, that they were again targeting the monarchy of Stratos after they had executed the Queen only eleven seasonal rotations ago. Her violent death was the subject of much whispering when he was a new apprentice to the TIES. He did partially understand however, the kingdom had seemed to quickly bounce back now that their prince was of age to ascend. For TIES was hellbent on anarchy.
-
Throwing himself over the edge as he made it up, provided him the opportunity to finally look at the surroundings from up the wall.
He kept low as he crept along the wall, searching for the tell-tale sign of the servants entrance which would be the most ideal place to sneak in from. The wall was incredibly thick and wide. The rough stone under his fingers as he ran his hand along the rim crouching lower. He gripped his knife tightly with his right hand. The other knife, hidden away. He kept a silent but watchful vigilant gaze for any movement, as he hurried along.
And as soon as he caught sight of the servants entrance, he paused where he stood, glancing around, before putting away his brilliant blue dagger and preparing to jump down the tall walls. Stepping up onto the raised rim of the wall he crouched slightly, if he aimed it correctly, he could manage to jump and fall into a roll.
Pushing off the edge, he flew up, quickly going down and bracing himself for the impact on the cobblestone below. His hood falling from his head and his white hair catching the moonlight as he fell. The hiss of the air passing by him caught his ears just before he impacted the ground.
He landed with a balanced landing which led into a roll, he was into the castle grounds with enough time to avoid the vicious dogs.
-
He was aware Skizz was dreading his assignment, complaining the whole way back to the apprentice lodging that King Ren’s personal guard Martyn of Dogwarts was a personal hell to deal with. All the meanwhile, complementing Etho’s skills and being excited for how well he is going to pull off this assasination. At least Skizz was behaving completely normally, and not nervous out of his mind like some of the other apprentices.
Etho listened absentmindedly, choosing to pay more attention to the peace of the camp at the moment. At the TIES camp everything was usually bustling with people, either new apprentices complaining about training or confirmed members planning group political takedowns.
He was pulled from his thoughts as Impulse, a confirmed member and decently close friend of theirs stopped the two men. “Hey Skizz, hey Etho. Can I talk to Etho for a second?” he said, looking for some kind of validation in their eyes.
“Yeah sure man. I’ll meet you there, alright?”, Skizz said, patting Impulse on the shoulder and walking backwards and facing the two of them. Before he turned around and strolled on, sleeves on his tunic torn above the shoulder and hands in his pockets.
“Alright!” Etho said to Skizz’s fleeting presence, before continuing to venture, “So, what’s up?”.
Impulse looked as if he was struggling to find the words to phrase this correctly. “I- I want to give you a bit of advice alright?” Etho’s nod allowed him to continue, “You.. may feel like you have nothing to lose here, that you know you’ll be capable of getting in and out like it’s nothing. But I know you… Something might arise, it might be hard to kill in actual practice not just metaphorically like in training. I just.. want to warn you. Listen. You— You can’t doubt yourself. I don’t want you dead. Make decisions and stick to them,” he paused briefly, breathing before continuing, “I trust you won’t wind up dead.”
Impulse walked away from him, waving briefly as a sign of goodbye before meeting up with a few other members, one of which being Tango, and a few others he’d seen around. Impulse was always a very likable guy.
He appreciated Impulse’s sentiment, he truthfully did, but he was perfectly capable of killing Prince Joel and returning a full fledged member. There was no doubt in his mind at that fact. He’d beaten much scarier magical beasts during training, and sparred with the best members TIES had and won!
-
From his own understanding of the inner workings of the castle, they had a plethora of guards, but a lack of actual servants, causing a constant shortage of staff. Notices to all residents in the various towns around and on the outskirts of the island that the prince was desperately in need. Not very often did anyone show interest in the work however, making it not incredibly odd when a personality that did not strike one as ‘quite right’ came to work there. These factors would most assuredly assist in his assasination attempt.
Slowly he slipped along the wall which held the servants entrance. The door holding only one flimsy and easy lock. And with careful steady hands he drew a metal pick from his vest, listening for the click, the raised end of the pick attempting to set the various pins into place.
Click.
Slowly the door softly creaked open upon inspection. The hall he stepped into was dim, but lit by one or two oil lanterns faintly burning. The flooring was marble, and the walls were cold and stone, but supported by a various number of pillars. Across the hall where he stood, he saw the open entrance to the kitchens, the servants quarters presumably being located nearby.
He kept his weapons concealed as he silently crept along the halls, eyes peeled for the stairs down to the servants quarters. He couldn’t help but to admire the green accents which were present everywhere. A deep green shade being used on the curtains for the windows, a green mat had been located by the exit so as to not track dirt into the white marble castle.
The moon shone in from the windows, a breeze drifting in from one kept slightly ajar. This was a remarkably roomy hallway, but the entrance down to the servants quarters looked anything but. He didn’t mind however, a comforting familiarity with tight spaces washing over him as he learned how to escape through any space even one’s smaller than he should reasonably fit in during training.
-
He had soon finished up with Impulse and found himself back into the quarters. Skizz was attempting to plan something, ink and parchment covered with a messy hand and what looked like directions? Arrows pointing to plans? Whatever it was he couldn’t have bothered to decipher it. A map of the island and mainland sprawled across the floor nearby. He sat on a chair a bit of a ways away idly watching and observing the quiet atmosphere, aside from incessant scribbling.
With a gaze at the map, Etho’s thoughts started sputtering in. The TIES base site unfortunately had to share space on the island with the kingdom of Stratos. A day’s journey on horse from the edge of the island inward towards the kingdom from almost every direction. Luckily though, the base site was truly nowhere close to the kingdom, a half a day’s journey away.
To a certain degree he knew that they spared Stratos much more than other kingdoms, mostly because of how close in proximity they were to each other. Obviously, the old Queen had known of the threat TIES is, but they had never been made aware of the location of the base of operations. And to think the TIES elite members wanted to keep it that way is not an inaccurate assessment.
Distracted by his thoughts, he didn’t realize his mask had fallen slightly down the bridge of his nose, and as he went to pull it back up the door was suddenly being knocked on. Skizz didn’t appear to notice, so he stood up from where he sat and went to the door.
Slowly sliding it open, he found a familiarly wide eyed Bdubs on the other side. “Hey,” he said, voice leaving his throat almost instinctively as soon as he saw the energetic and enthusiastic man.
“Hey Etho! I heard about your assignment!!” The joy on his face was evident and brought a small smirk to Etho’s own lips. “May I come in?” Bdubs asked, a bit impatient but also with a wild smile as he glanced around the room.
“Yeah, of course,” he said, before letting the shorter man come inside and closing the door behind him.
There was only a small moment of Bdubs looking around before he ventured to ask the question on his mind. “Sooooo.. what’re your plans?” Bdubs said, rolling onto the balls of his feet then onto his tip toes, back and forth.
“I.. I haven’t had a moment to think about that. I think I will not be going for a combative kill though, I will likely kill the prince with poison in his dinner or something and the like.” he said, effortlessly.
“C’mon! You need to get an in person kill! Those are much better stories during the member promotion councils,” he said, clearly joking and smiling wide nonetheless. Bdubs had a never ending bloodlust.
Etho’s smirk grew, Bdubs had an effect on him. “Mm, yes I suppose you’re right. Now tell me, how did you get promoted to member status? Wasn’t it blowing someone up with an explosion while you were an incredibly far, and safe, distance away?” The shorter one was just so challenging. They had known each other for years, been friends since the minute they ended up in TIES. Bdubs and him were practically joined at the hip, always lightly teasing each other and watching each other's backs. Even to their occasional detriment.
“Hmm. FINE. Yes. Still. You need to be careful out there. You mean a lot to me, come home safe ok?” he said, a giant smile fixed on his face, faltering for only a second.
There was a look in the blonde and beat up Bdubs’ wide shining eyes. Like he had a bad feeling about this. Bdubs was almost never worried about his own safety and didn’t make it a point to care for Etho’s either, both of them jumping into situations and scraping through together on dynamite and Etho’s logical mind.
As the shorter man patted his arm, the look was gone, all traces of worry and grief left his face. Bdubs turned and went to the door, opening it and looking back while standing in the frame.
“Kill ‘em and make it good!”, he said. “Good Luck, Etho!!”, before slamming the door and running off down the hall. Only then did Skizz look up, mildly confused by the sudden noise, as if Bdubs wasn’t loud the entire time. He supposed Skizz was entirely consumed with focus on this, perhaps he should be too. When Skizz becomes focused and gets his attention on something, he will lay waste to it.
He really should be planning on how to lay waste to that prince right now.
-
As he came upon the stairs to the servant’s quarters, he gazed downwards into the dimly lit staircase. There was an oil lantern close to a landing only twenty or so steps down. He pressed a hand to the wall, grounding himself before softly stepping his way down.
He wasn’t afraid of falling per se, he was however afraid of rousing the sleeping castle. He knew no one but the guards were awake this late. And even though the light blue short haired accented one should be getting off shift, the guards quarters were in a tower of the castle in the east wing not the west. It was much better to be safer than sorry and dead however.
Stepping down and meeting the lantern at its landing on the stairs allowed him to see, two or three steps down ahead and to the left where the hall bent, there laid several sleeping bodies.
The quarters appeared tight and without much light. Oil lanterns which appeared to have burned a few hours ago were put out, and there were small cots with trunks at the end lining each side of the long room.
Carefully he stepped down from the landing, being pulled along by the presence of other still lit lanterns dimly basking the room in a yellow glow. There were several empty cots with nothing around or inside them. And when he found one with nothing in the trunk, he was relieved.
He took his mask off his face, pulling the whole thing off his face. He was suddenly very vulnerable and much easier to read. Good thing he’d prepared for this. Then, carefully, he removed his vest, placing it instead into the trunk at the bottom, tucking his mask and gloves inside the vest, well hidden with his blue daggers.
Choosing not to remove the bandana wrapped around his forehead, he sat on the cot, feeling how it was remarkably more plush than the lodgings at the base camp.
The camp felt almost temporary at times, but here, the marble floors had changed to stone in this almost dungeon like room. This was a solid, very here space. The TIES officials knew they would have to move again at some point, quickly flee on boat, leaving the camp behind. Hence why everything could be so easily packed up. This castle, he could feel an energy around it, something unlike anything he’d felt before.
The castle was tall, compared with the village and building surrounding it. It was stone, covered in moss. This castle was staying here, it was permanent. It had no intention of ever moving or fleeing. To a certain degree, it was comforting, that security. He could however, never feel fully safe in a foreign location, especially one so heavily guarded during the daylight.
He glanced briefly around the room, before pausing abruptly in his tracks. The stairs had creaked.
It could have been the natural creaking of wood, sure.
But no, that was definitely a step.
Could have been. But was it?
There was someone coming.
They were on the landing.
They were squinting..
They could see him.
They saw him.
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