Die Twice- Shadow's Call

by Honie Jar

  Those traders who arrived before dawn typically slept in the mosques where they provided accommodations for the traveling merchants and their animals. The trading took place at dawn, early in the morning. As Asha entered the souk, narrow alleyways branched off from the main entrance. The thin passageways filled with overflowing items that snaked off into even thinner walkways with even more goods.

  The souk was an intricate web of goods that made it difficult for Asha to get a feel for where she was, she could easily be lost in the waves of people and goods, never to find her way out.

  Asha wandered around exploring the various artists and crafts. At each tent, what she found were different pottery styles, tea sets of all sizes, serving plates, soup bowls, vibrant jeweled glassware, ornate tea pots and vast amounts of colored aromatic spices. She made her way through the rug aisle where several woven rugs of Berber were stacked in heaps and lined each way as she walked. She kept ongoing around careful of pickpockets who she was convinced were around every corner. Scared she would lose the only currency she had; Asha held the five gold coins closely in the palm of her hand. She finally made her way to the area where they sold vegetables. Cucumbers, radishes, fresh herbs of sage and parsley were sold in one area of the souk.

  Observing the vegetables that were similar to the world she was from, she recognized several of the varieties that were for sale. However, there were some vegetables that she had no idea what they were. Huge fibrous bodies of yellow squash, larger than she had ever seen before. She became amazed by the ruby red gourds that looked similar to beets, but they were larger and oval shaped, missing their taproot.

  Then finally she made her way and found the fruit section. That’s right oranges. She found a stall that had heaps and heaps of oranges, and she approached the vendor of that station. “Good day sir,” said Asha.

  “Yes Madame. How can I help you?” The vendor replied.

  “I would like to purchase three oranges.” She said this loudly, projecting her voice so others could hear. Obviously, the purchase of the three oranges must have been a sign for someone to approach her.

  Yes right away!" The vendor picked up three oranges and handed them to Asha.

  Do these look good? I should’ve looked at the oranges that she held in her hand they were perfect, deep gold and orange and not a mark or scratch on them. She answered, “Yes! These look just right.”

  “That will be one gold coin.” Not knowing if that was expensive or not, she took one of the gold coins she held in her hand and gave it to the vendor.

  “Thank you,” she said as she handed him the gold coin. As she went to turn around, wondering what to do next. A man dressed all in black, a cape shrouded his shoulders a hood over his head, but his face and white beard were both visible, approached her. As he came closer Asha was certain to make out the detail of the red embroidered thread that lined his cape. The intricate detail of red and gold lined the edge with ornamental glyphs.

  As the man came within inches of Asha, he muttered “meet me at the Golden Hawk next to the Crystal Leif Fountain.” Confused by the direction, Asha did not know where to go, but out of the souk.

  Asha nodded and appeared to be perplexed as to what was the statue that he was referring to. Out of the corner of the eye she saw that man with the black cape, hood, and white beard removed a dagger from under his cloak. The movement was done with such concealment that Asha would not have seen the dagger if she hadn’t been standing so close to him and turned her head at the opportune time.

  The dark and mysterious man punctured the abdomen of the man standing next to him with the dagger. The victim doubled over in pain as blood came from his midsection and entrails billowed out of the wound. With a flick of his cape, the man with the white beard vanished in the crowd of people that swarmed the injured man to help him.

  Confusion fell over Asha as swarms of people ran either toward or away of the injured man who gushed both blood and entrails as he fell to the floor.

  Asha recounted to herself as she fought the crowd, that she was not in Kansas anymore. Elbows, shoulders, hips all checked into her as she swam with the crowd to the nearest exit of the souk.

  Her location was unknown as she found it difficult to use any one booth or handicraft as an anchor point, but she did find an exit along with hundreds of other people who were evacuating the souk. Even though she was confused, she had the wherewithal to at least get out of the commotion and make her way out of the souk that snaked all around with artesian artifacts.

  Panting, from both terror and exhaustion, she lifted her gaze and saw a fountain of a man riding a horse, and water coming out of the pot that the man held. It was made of crystal. She went closer to the fountains you noticed its beauty; the crystal carvings were exquisite as every detail was portrayed in the figure. It glistened in the sunlight as the water poured down the sculpture, and trickled down into the pool of water, where coins collected at the bottom of the pound. After admiring the fountain for a few moments and taking in its beauty, Asha looked to the right and found the statue that she was certain the man with the white beard was referring.

  Asha was uncertain as what to do by the statue that she was convinced that she was directed to by the man with the white beard. She now doubted that she heard all of that correctly. Something her conscience was used to, that nagging voice in the back of her head. The one that spewed doubt in her mind, constantly.

  No harm in standing and waiting by the statue, she took a moment to take in the grandeur of the brass figure that she stood in the shadows of.

  The creature was a representation of a large-beaked hawk, crafted out of pure gold. The statue illuminated from the high sun and it felt warm, but not hot to the touch. Asha looked at the ruby red eyes of the hawk and admired the world that she found herself in. A world she had only seen on the television screen, and was never allowed to play, except for the day she took her life.

  A few moments later the man that she saw in the souk, the one who stabbed the other man causing a commotion approached Asha. His boots hardly making a sound as he stepped on the ground. His hood now down, his cape, which was black was now red. It was either reversible, or he had a change of close with him. He carried himself in a noble manner, cavalier yet humble.

  Asha turned as she saw him from the corner of her eye. He stood next to her as they both admired the statue of the great hawk. He said to her in a soft yet firm voice, “Lovely hijab.”

  Asha replied, “Thank you.”

  “By the way, my name is Bijan.”

  4 The Den of Thieves

  “Keep up,” commanded Bijan. “We have a lot of ground to cover in a short amount of time. This will be good for you as you must increase your endurance.”

  “Where are we going?” Asha asked.

  “We are venturing to Adar, more specifically the House of Palladius Bardus,” answered Bijan.

  “I’ve never heard of it,” rebutted Asha, surprised she did not recognize that name, given that she had an extensive knowledge of the game, the Ascendancy of Unity.

  “By the way, what is your name. I was never given a name for you.”

  “Asha. Asha Ayari.”

  “That is a very nice name.”

  “Thank you,” huffed Asha, struggling to keep up with Bijan.

  “And, of course you haven’t heard of the House of Palladius Bardus. We keep it a secret. You are not one of us yet,” retorted Bijan.

  “One of you?” Asha was certain she knew what he met but needed him to clarify.

  “Right. One of us. But with my training, I have full confidence you will be initiated into the Clan of Bahram.”

  “That’s what I thought you meant.”

  “There are many assassin clans around. I happen to be a member of the Clan of Bahram. We are headquartered in the House of Palladius Bardus, a manor in the center of Adar. I trust you will be amazed by what you see,” hinted Bijan.

  “Oh, I have no doubt.” Asha pushed through the fatigue she felt
in her legs and kept up with Bijan.

  Asha followed the white, short-haired man with a matching white beard to the territory of Adar, a providence under the rule of the King of Kazeveh. While the pair walked side by side, the streets lined with people selling handicrafts outside of the souk, became busy and were frequented by those passing by. Food markets flourished with customers who sought the fruits and vegetables offered by the establishment. Crowds of people lined up to pick up a daily loaf of bread. Others fled to a nearby mosque where they sought to partake in a daily worship. Statues became a frequent sight as Bijan continued to lead Asha through the streets, which were maze like, but nothing like the souk where she was still surprised, she found her way out.

  A question came to Asha’s mind as the two struggled to fight the crowd of people. “Will I be the only woman there?” Asha asked.

  “No, there are a few others. But, the majority of the Clan is men.”

  This question only fueled more questions, “Am I the only new recruit?”

  Bijan paused to allow Asha to keep up with him. “Presently, yes. I received word a few days ago to meet my next recruit in the market. A description was provided and the location, along with what you’d be purchasing. That is typically how it is done.”

  “Fascinating,” replied Asha, consumed by how she was now living the very game she was not allowed to play in her previous life.

  Asha and Bijan turned a corner, and the congestion of both people and buildings waned. The buildings that lined the streets were a mixture of smaller shops and markets with periodic structures with impressive architecture. After making it through the cluster of shops, Asha passed by a row of grand buildings and palaces with columns and spacious halls. Monumental, extravagant, and open style were reserved for the larger and more important structures of the Kingdom and the religious mosques. Obviously, this was done on purpose to convey the feeling of space and luxury that the Kingdom held along with the new religion of the land, the Congregation of the Five Gods. The religion that the King of Kazeveh ordained as the national and sovereign religion. Most of the people quickly adopted the new religion because they did not want persecution, even though they revered the teachings and beliefs of Druheqir and were constantly searching for the next prophet of Dalios. Asha knew this from the game she watched Aram play and was enthralled in the storyline and backstory of the game.

  “Let me answer your next question,” stated Bijan, once again allowing Asha to catch up to him.

  “And that is…”

  “You will have a room in the manor, the House of Palladius Bardus. It’s a quaint room, but it will have everything you need. You will stay there as long as you pass your initiation.”

  “And if I fail?”

  Bijan chuckled and answered, “Well, then we kill you.”

  “Kill me?” Flabbergasted by the answer.

  “Right. By then, you will already know too much and would be perceived as a threat to our Clan.” Bijan paused for a moment and then continued, “Slowly, you’ll stop fixating on your own failure.”

  “How do you know I am fixated on failure?” Asha asked in a defensive manner.

  “I have had seven successful initiates and not one asked about not making it through the entire initiation process, but you.”

  “Did all of them make it through?” Asha inquired.

  “Not all. I think I’ve mentored around twelve recruits.”

  “So, you’re like just above fifty percent in your success rate,” responded Asha, not liking her chances of making it through.

  “You could say that.”

  “Yet, I’m the only one who asked what if I fail?”

  “You are.”

  “I’d say I’m more realistic than fixated on my failure as you put it.”

  “Perhaps. But as you follow the teachings of the Clan, you will learn that failure is not an option.”

  “But there were five of your recruits who failed to be initiated into the Clan,” countered Asha.

  “Wasn’t a good fit. It would be a greater failure if they were initiated and we had weak links in our Clan, wouldn’t you agree?”

  “I suppose.”

  “So it wasn’t a failure. Not by a long shot.”

  “You make a point.” Asha fell silent as she wondered what she had gotten herself into.

  Moving out of the religious and palatial sect of the city, the walkway opened up as Asha’s view was no long obstructed by the high buildings and gargantuan architecture. The street was lined with art and statues for sale by various vendors. They appear to be influenced from other types of cultures; Asha figured it was a Chinese-like influence based on her previous life.

  Bijan guided Asha further down the street. This mysterious man appeared to be normal when he was not donning his all black attire and puncturing men who passed by him. The red cape with the hood slightly covering his head made him appear normal among the other citizens of Bakahisar. He wore a saber on his waistband. It peaked through his cloak as he walked. Asha was certain from what she knew about the game, The Ascendancy of Unity, Bijan had at least twenty more weapons on him. They both walked at a rapid pace, not allowing those who passed by to impede their quest to where Bijan led, to Adar.

  Bijan appeared to be old and wise as Asha recounted that he was a Councilor in the Clan of Bahram. The Councilor position was the next in command under the High Justiciar. In the Clan, Asha hypothesized that they had at least four Councilors who rose in the ranks and served right below the highest position in the Clan.

  Bijan stood at least a foot above Asha, while they walked together. A man and a woman walking alongside each other in the streets of Bakahisar was not uncommon, but Asha remembered from the game that customarily the act of walking together would signify that the two were together romantically. Probably a good cover for them both, as Asha was certain that Bijan did this purposely. They probably would not travel together if they could not have a manner to cover their true motivation for heading out of the capital city, to reach the headquarters of the Clan of Bahram.

  As they reached the end of Bakahisar, the crowds of people on the street thinned out as well as the closeness of the buildings. The architecture turned from being lavish, colorful, and the corners adorned with statues to large spaces of dirt and sand with a sporadic shack where a vendor would sell his wares to those entering the capital city. The long walk made Asha feel exhausted as she struggled to keep up with Bijan. She caught the rhythm that kept her in step with him, pacing her gait with his long legs.

  While they were no longer in the midst of crowds of people, the pair arrived at a looking point to the side of the road that they had walked on. They had been descending in elevation for several miles as Asha had to adjust her weight as she stepped. Bijan announced, “Welcome to Adar!” He held out his arms and paused for dramatic effect.

  “This is Adar?” Asha asked, appearing to be underwhelmed by the shanty shacks that met her view.

  “Not impressed?” joked Bijan.

  “You said that I would be amazed,” replied Asha.

  “Ah! Right. By the manor. Our Clan’s headquarters. There you will be amazed. I guarantee it.”

  Asha held her judgement until she would enter the House of Palladius Bardus, however, Adar appeared to be a very poor town in Kazeveh.

  “Come on, we don’t have much farther to go,” prodded Bijan as he continued the trek. The pair walked down the road that headed downward to Adar. For a man who appeared to be old, he was extremely fit and had more stamina than Asha. They she remembered what Ibrahim imparted to her about her composition. She would need to work on her stamina to increase her power.

  The road that winded down the hillside did not take long for both Bijan and Asha to complete. Asha’s legs burned from fatigue and lactic acid build up, but she was anxious to see the headquarters of the Clan. All of this was new and exciting for Asha, and she briefly remembered her previous life and reveled in the fact that she was living a life worth living and
one that even Aram would be envious of, and she hadn’t even seen the headquarters of the Clan yet.

  While they walked up the road toward what appeared to be an abandoned mansion in the middle of a desolate town, Bijan explained, “So you are my recruit, and I am your mentor.” He unlocked the rusted padlock of the wrought iron gate that surrounded the obtuse mansion in the middle of shacks. It stuck out like a sore thumb; the height of the structure towered over everything else as far as the eye could see. “I will train you each day. You are my responsibility. For that reason, do not speak to anyone other than me. Be polite but do not say a word. You may nod, so not to be rude, these guys will try to test you. Not unless I am around may you speak to anyone. Not until you have been initiated into the Clan, may you freely converse with one of us. It is our rule while you live with us.”

  Asha nodded, understanding that she was to be trained only by Bijan and not to speak to any of the other assassins. Made sense. However, this rule struck a chord with her as it was one of her rules given to her from Aram. Once again, she was someone else’s property.

  Bijan jingled the rusted lock and opened the gate, allowing Asha in. He noted, “The villagers who live in the neighboring dwellings, they believe that our High Justiciar is a land Barron and that we are travelers who stay with him.” Bijan guided Asha by the shoulder through the wrought iron gate. Once through, he put the gate and locked the padlock, connecting the chain that held the gate.

  “This way,” motioned Bijan toward the front door. Asha walked down the stone pathway in the midst of sand and weeds.