Chapter Text
Damian had been sent to sabotage a major crops corporation in India that had sent funding towards a betrayer of the league. Anyone willing to ally themselves with an enemy would become an enemy. That had been made exceptionally clear.
He had successfully attached a poison to several local pests, made to look like an illness in insects, to spread around the crops. It would enter the roots and promptly dry them out, leaving weak and deteriorating crops that would affect the corporation’s standing and produce, setting them back and allowing weaknesses to be struck down.
Damian felt his eyes narrow slightly. The air was off, but other than that, there was no evidence that points towards anything being wrong.
Precisely the problem, he supposes. There would always be some sort of proof if something were wrong, no one paid attention enough for it to noticeable, though. The fact that there is only a feeling is proof enough for him.
After surveying the area once again, he headed towards an unofficial road that looked like it hadn’t been used in a year or two, covering his tracks along the way. He listened for any shifts in the wind that would signal something of average human height and weight to be near.
In the trees, it seemed. North-east of where his back was facing the setting sun. How irritating, it seemed that Mother deemed it fit for him to be tested again. This was the league of assassins’ work, no doubt. What would he be tested on this time?
The assassins would most likely strike in the next fifteen minutes, so preparation would be the logical next step. With the faint light the sun would give during that time, he started subtly rearranging his tool supply that was carefully hidden in case of contact with any locals.
He started to minimise the amount of movement he used while walking, it was likely that there would be blood drawn during the altercation, and he refused to die by bleeding out.
He focused on his heart, still keeping awareness of his surroundings, he was not foolish in any capacity and it would bring him shame to not know such a basic skill.
He would slow down his heartbeat to 45 beats per minute.The assassins would attack soon, no doubt, and he would lose less blood if there was a slower flow of blood. He was small, his heart would not need to pump as much blood around his body. It would be able to deal if he only had to do it for the next half hour.
The leaf rustling was what caught his attention, and if that hadn’t, the unique sound of a blade travelling through the air right towards him would have. He leaped back, dodging a small blade that sunk deeply into the ground.
A figure draped in black approached rapidly, needles that looked to be filled with poisons held in a firm grip. They took a swing at him while he brought out a medium sized blade to defend himself. He sliced in an upwards swing, glass shattering as he hit the needle.
The assassin quickly took out another needle, and his eyebrows furrowed slightly. They were definitely sent by his mother, so perhaps they would respond to her orders? Definitely worth a try, but if it worked, he would only be able to use it once.
Mind made up, he prepared to mimic his mother’s voice into an intimidating order.
“Soldier! Stand down or else!” He barked with as much venom as he could. The assassin visibly flinched back, body automatically fulfilling the order without a thought. He struck quickly, slitting their throat and backing away from another knife that had been thrown from the trees, aimed at his nape.
His head snapped to his right when he heard the distinct sound of flames coming to life. A tall but slim figure stood, body bathed in a glow stemming from the flaming sword they wielded. They prowled forward carefully, body tensed and ready to lunge at him.
He took up a defensive stance, eyes rapidly taking in the new opponent. The assassin lunged and he blocked the incoming blow with his blade, the flames that licked up the sword making him feel uncomfortably hot.
They started a heated battle that earned him a couple of burns, and his attacker quite a few nicks and slashes. He ducked a swing that singed off a couple of hairs and pushed forward to pressure his opponent backward and gain control of the fight.
A new figure approached and entered the fray, forcing him to back up and dodge the blade they had sent towards his thigh. The taller figure was suddenly in his face, forcing his attention on them, they traded a few blows, his neck got nicked while the other’s forearm had a new slash that lazily dripped blood.
While his attention was lost, the other had decided that this was the perfect time to throw a knife at him. He jerked back and the knife imbedded into his inner arm. He didn’t want to risk poison getting too far into his bloodstream so he immediately snatched it out, eyes widening when he caught where the knife had struck.
A ripped, pulsing vein was prominent where the knife had been. Of course, an artery just had to be nicked, his gaze flickered over to where the taller assassin was once again approaching. Readying himself, he flung himself at them. They clearly weren’t expecting it and faltered in their approach.
He quickly and efficiently disarmed them, killing them. Mother would be disappointed if he didn’t. Without hesitation, he brought the flat side of the flaming blade he had retrieved from the assassin to his wound, cauterising it. A white hot pain filled his being in an instant, he tried his hardest not to let his weakness show.
It seemed that the other assassin hadn’t thought that was what he would do, and made a surprised sound behind the mask. He took advantage of their surprise, plunging his blade through there eye, tackling them to the ground.
He took one of their own blades, leaving his in their eye. He plunged it into one of their own arteries.
Karmas a bitch, as they say.
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He stumbled his way through the foliage, his eyes narrowing down at a relatively flat rock. He would just take a brake, rejuvenate a little.
He took slow steps forward and carefully lowered himself onto the rock. His eyes fluttered briefly and his head nodded back and forward a bit. He would be fine, he was only feeling a little woozy.
————
Frank can’t remember what he was doing in India, all he knew was that his teacher was a major bitch and nothing said otherwise could persuade him. He and Casper had studied magic nonstop and she hadn’t even allowed them to use one spell. One! They would prove themselves while they where here, and she would just have to let them practice.
He heard shallow breathing in the distance, and he gestured for Casper to quiet down. He wondered who would be out here at this hour. He stalked forward and saw a pair of boots in the distance. He glanced back at Casper and the shared eye contact, after a moment he turned back.
He lifted the drooping branches above his head and stepped forward, examining what lay before him, or, more like who.
He was about 4 feet tall, but he couldn’t be sure. He had an entirely black outfit that looked like it would be really hot to wear, it also had a lot of stains on it. He was curled up on a rock, breathing shallow breaths. His gaze was drawn to an insignia that was carved onto a blade clutched in his hands.
His eyes widened then narrowed. He scoffed, “looks like those stupid league buddies abandoned him, what the hell are those lot doing here!?”
He heard a sharp intake of breath from where Casper stood, “Really? I didn’t think we would run into them all the way out here!” He exclaimed, hands waving with a frown marring his face.
“I didn’t know they employed dwarves, how pathetic.” Frank groused, hand running through his hair. He paused, considering something.
Suddenly, a large grin split into his face as he turned to Casper. “What was it those locals said the other day? ‘When an elephant is in trouble, even a frog will kick him’, right?” His grin was edging into a leer.
“It looks like we’ve found ourself an elephant in trouble, just waiting to be kicked by us poor, little, froggies.” He mocked as he stepped forward, aiming for a kick. When no one stopped him, his aim swung true, hitting the league member in the stomach, making him gasp awake.
The assassin looked disoriented, his eyes were foggy and he gazed up at the sky blearily from where he lay on his back. Frank aimed another kick right at his forehead, making a bruise form. The assassin’s head was probably ringing around his skull right now.
The boy curled up into a ball, arms protectively wrapping around his knees. Frank crouched down near his head and peered down at him. “He kinda looks like a kitten don’ cha’ think?” Looking back up at Casper.
“Don’t you think we should be more carful? We could get in real trouble…” Casper warily gazed at the assassin that was currently curled into a small ball like a child.
“Your worrying about nothing! Not like he’s gonna do anythi-” He was interrupted when the boy lunged at him, making him back away.
“GAH- Ah geez, what the fuck! You little hell demon!” He spat at the boy, hastily backing away. The assassin stumbled around, then fell to his knees, unable to stay upright.
“You little shit! I should turn you into a damn cat with all the crap your pulling,” Frank shrieked at the assassin, jerking at every twitch the boy gave. He turned his focus to where Casper was standing. He had a contemplative look on his face, that was usually never good, but maybe all the chaos would fall on the little demon’s shoulder.
“Hmm… what if… you turned him into a cat? We wanted to practice magic, right? What better to try then transformation.” He suggested, eyes glinting. Frank grinned, mind whirring with ideas. What a great day this would turn out to be.
He turned back to the boy with a considering look on his face. He then reached into his satchel, bringing out a dusty tome. He glared at the boy one last time before he found what he was looking for.
“Aha! Here we are, just give me a sec…” he squinted at the small text then cleared his throat. Frank pointed his fingers at the boy and stared intently.
“Paret kleng behistl mo bretrax: force to unto caunteg!” He chanted, trying with his everything to get it to work.
He didn’t think it had worked for a moment, then everything began to emit a soft glow around them.
In the center of it all, Damian knelt, trying to keep his screams in until he couldn’t anymore. They ripped out of his throat, unwelcome and uninvited. It stopped, suddenly, and he was left heaving in great big puffs of air.
Frank was left satisfied after completing his first ever spell. He grinned at Casper, then looked back at the boy. Well, what used to be a boy. What stood in his place was a small black kitten with green eyes that was gasping for air.
“We should probably get going.” Advised Casper, he was watching the cat wearily, he was glaring at them, as if they had done him the worst disservice in the world. Which, let’s be honest, they probably just did.
Frank nodded and jerked his head back at the way they came. They set off quickly, unwilling to see what the aftermath of their heat of the moment decision.
Damian was left, disoriented, bruised and tried, thanking whatever higher being that he wasn’t expected back until a week later. While that did leave him a week to sort himself out, he didn’t know where to start at all.
What a nightmare.