by Honie Jar
Asha moved her gaze from the sea and the horizon back to the architecture of Çiris. She looked up at one of the archways that people used to get from one building to another. Bijan mentioned, “Those archways were built so people could still get around during storms and flood. That is why there is white porcelain plastered nearly everywhere you look. This place fills up quickly.” He pointed at the water mark on the white wall that they passed by. The water mark was at least seven feet.
They walked among the people of Çiriş, bumping into people who passed by them inadvertently. A shrill shriek pierced her thoughts, and she glanced up to look at the swine emerging from the the stocks of a vendor. Not doubt he was soon to be a meal.
Asha watched the filthy swine make its way through the crowds of people, weaving in and out of their legs. She took her gaze back to Bijan, and without any indication, Bijan wrapped his arm around that of another man who appeared to be merely passing by. “Aaaahhh!” the man shouted while Bijan stealthily pulled the man into him while reaching for his dagger underneath his cloak.
Like a stealth killer, with one swipe, Bijan gutted the man, similar to the one he did in the market from neck to navel. While the man squirted blood like a gutted pig, another man jumped on the back of Bijan.
Asha took to the man, hoping to utilize her combat abilities. Taking out her scimitar, she twirled the blade in her hand before advancing to the assailant that was on Bijan’s back. Stabbing him without piercing the body of Bijan. Bijan took the lifeless carcass and flipped it over his head. A scurry of people fled screaming since the corpse sprayed blood all over the white and pristine walls.
A whip lassoed itself around Asha’s wrist, and she was pulled. The whip wrapped around her wrist burned and she her hand felt as it would separate from the rest of her arm.
“Vile pig!” Asha screamed as she was pulled by a man who wore a red turban and a white tunic. While the man pulled her toward him, she used the inertia from being pulled to kick her abductor in the in the jaw, while she flipped over, landing on her feet. She could get used to this. She moved with a fluidity like water and a precision she had never experienced before.
The man no longer held the whip, and she took it wrapping it up in her hand. Bijan, with a sense of urgency in his voice said, “Quick! This way!” The two ran along with the crowd who dispersed with panic and fear in their eyes, screaming as they moved away from where the two men laid, both dead.
Asha watched as an update came across her vision. The writing impaired her vision slightly, but she was relieved yet to see the update, which read:
New skill attained: Sword Skills
New skill attained: Hand to Hand
*New skills attained resulted in an increase in the Attributes and Abilities.
Attribute and Abilities update: Increase in the Art of Combat.
Attributes:
Art of Contraption: 12 (1)
Art of Conspiracy: 11 (0)
Art of Combat: 19 (+4)
Art of Covertness: 8 (-1)
Art of Craftiness: 10 (0)
Art of Conjuration: 11 (0)
Art of Control: 12 (1)
Abilities:
Accuracy- 13 (1)
Intelligence- 12 (1)
Strength- 16 (+2)
Agility- 22 (+5)
Evasion- 10 (0)
Defense- 7 (-2)
Stamina- 10 (0)
Attack- 10 (0)
*The Attributes are an average of the abilities listed below and rounded down:
Art of Contraption: Accuracy + Intelligence
Art of Conspiracy: Accuracy + Evasion
Art of Combat: Strength + Agility
Art of Covertness: Evasion + Defense
Art of Craftiness: Stamina + Attack
Art of Conjuration: Intelligence + Evasion
Art of Control: Stamina + Strength
Equipped:
Scimitar
Short Dagger
Red Poison Vial
Blue Poison Vial
Yellow Poison Vial
Fiery Rage Explosive
Bull Whip
Asha trailed Bijan as he led the way, running as fast as she could. He did not even pause as he approached a corner of a building, peeling away from the crowd. Where one wall met the other, Bijan stepped, propelling himself upward and using the friction between his shoes and the wall as leverage as he moved up the side of the building, gliding from one side of the corner to the next.
Asha did not have time to quibble in mind with self-doubt. She had no choice but to follow him and complete the same motions as he did. Close behind Bijan, Asha took her right foot and placed it in the same spot as she saw Bijan did. Surprised that she kept up with his acrobatics, but she could. As Bijan continued to work his way up the corner of the building, he used the sides of balconies and window ledges to move even faster.
Asha who was not as advanced as Bijan found herself losing velocity, and she had to use more strength to get herself up. She missed her step on using the window ledge for footing and fell down the side of the wall a few feet. Catching herself with her left hand, a tortuous clothesline hung from one side of the wall to the other, she accessed her newly acquired whip with her free hand.
Unwinding the whip, she swung it in the direction of an arrow that was shot at them, plunged into the wall when it missed Bijan. Letting go of the clothesline, she swung, holding the whip, landing on the side of the wall with her feet and working her way up to where the arrow anchored her.
Once she was able to get to a ledge, she pulled out the arrow and wrapped the whip, securing it beneath her cape. She was then able to catch up with Bijan who made his way to the roof of the building.
No surprise to Asha, once they made it to the top of the building, they were met once again with more soldiers from the Çirian army. Bijan took his saber from where it was strapped to his back. Asha took out her scimitar. She braced herself for the battle that ensued.
Metal clanked and clashed, and Asha found that she could match each strike from a Çirian guard strike for strike. The four soldiers were quickly subdued and laid on the roof top, with blood gushing from their bodies.
"Well my initiate, follow me” said Bijan, before setting off anew, a floating shadow among the smoke stacks under the glide of scattered fog. Asha followed suit and tossed herself headfirst, distracted by the moment's confusion.
With nothing but soaring through the open air with effortlessness, Asha landed on the adjacent building. Met with more guards of the Çiria army, Asha set off, sprinting as agile as she could, running on the tops of walls, clotheslines, and windowsills to launch herself upward, higher to the next structure. Asha became swept up in the sense of soaring, the air moving passed her cheeks, that she did not think of where she was.
Bijan was nowhere to be detected, out of her sight entirely. Immediately, the tower of the mausoleum, jetted before her, ascending from the crimson arch of the mosques gently slanting roof. But as she progressed, she recollected that the mosque located in the heart of the plaza in the distance between its roof and those of the neighboring houses was much higher than any had she yet at climbed. She threatened not to waver or lose speed now-she simply wished that the mosque's roof was lower than the one she had to plunge from. If she could lift herself forward with sufficient force, and truly launch herself into the air, gravity would carry the rest for her. For one or two moments she would float like a fowl. Her force and momentum and the image of the repercussion of failure was now out of her mind.
The side of the roof she was on approach fast and next, there was nothing nothing but open air. Listening to the air hissing in her ears brought tears into her eyes. The mosque's roof seemed an eternal distance away. She would never reach it; she buried those words of doubt, the inner voice who spoke words of self-hatred at her. The voice she knew too well. She squashed it. She could still feel it there, but she did not pay any attention to it. All she could do was imagine she was a feather upswept by the blas
ts of air she sensed beneath. She sealed her eyes then…
Her body went light, she was holding herself with her hands and feet but when they held again-she had made it, within inches of the rim but she had made it onto the mosque’s roof!
But where was Bijan? Asha scrambled up to the base of the edifice, turning to look back the way she had came, just in time to witness her mentor flying himself. Bijan landed firmly, but his weight sent him one or two of the red brick tiles slithering out of place and he practically gave up his foothold as a tile slid down the roof and off the side, bursting a few moments later on the rough cobbles far below.
"You ran past me like a dart of lightning," yelled Bijan. The compliment made Asha feel wonderful inside.
"I didn't indeed know that I had that strength!" Asha said.
"Well, if you continue this up, you will beat me to the top of the church!" Bijan exclaimed.
Asha watched as an update came across her line of vision:
Level attained: Level 2
XP = 300
Congratulations, you attained a new level. Keep this up to increase your Attributes and Abilities.
Attribute and Ability Update:
Attributes:
Art of Contraption: 13 (+1)
Art of Conspiracy: 12 (+1)
Art of Combat: 20 (+5)
Art of Covertness: 9 (-1)
Art of Craftiness: 11 (0)
Art of Conjuration: 12 (+1)
Art of Control: 13 (+1)
Abilities:
Accuracy- 14 (+2)
Intelligence- 13 (+1)
Strength- 17 (+3)
Agility- 23 (+7)
Evasion- 11 (0)
Defense- 8 (-2)
Stamina- 11 (0)
Attack- 11 (0)
*The Attributes are an average of the abilities listed below and rounded down:
Art of Contraption: Accuracy + Intelligence
Art of Conspiracy: Accuracy + Evasion
Art of Combat: Strength + Agility
Art of Covertness: Evasion + Defense
Art of Craftiness: Stamina + Attack
Art of Conjuration: Intelligence + Evasion
Art of Control: Stamina + Strength
The pair had evaded the clamoring army that were tipped off that the Clan was in their midsts. Asha felt that this was the calm before the storm.
“Come on!” Said Bijan and without more ado he set off with a rapid pace that the battle weary Asha discovered it arduous to sustain that pace. When Asha dropped too far behind, she mistakenly took a wrong turn in an alley. Confused as to where she was, she was relieved when she found that Bijan hurried back to meet her as she wandered aimlessly in the alleyway.
“I’m sorry Asha, I just want to get there as soon as we can.”
Asha panted, out of breath, doubled over, her knees on her hands. “We clearly must increase your endurance,” concluded Bijan.
The pair returned to the crowd, hiding in plain sight, blending in as if they had not just been hunted by soldiers and guards.
The bustling of the people became too much for Asha to sort out given she had expanded nearly all of her energy. “Here, follow me,” whispered Bijan, ducking into an alley way to evade the crowd.
“That corridor does get quite cramped. Especially during the mid-day rush,” added Bijan. Both him and Asha were in a secluded alleyway, surrounded by the walls of the buildings on either side of them. This was a quiet respite from the aggressive crowd they had just left. “Çirian people are more brash than the people in Bakahisar or Adar. They are all trying to do trade deals before the afternoon so they can get their goods on the routes.”
Not many moments passed, when a homely man approached Asha and Bijan. He wore a brown robe with a gold cord tied around his shoulders and waist. The bald head only added to his homeliness. The large belly didn’t do much for his appearance either, as he waddled while he walked up to Bijan.
“The birds sing a pretty song,” said the bald man, admiring a tree, planted on the side of the alley way. His eyes stayed on the tree while he spoke to Bijan.
“They do sing a sweet song,” answered Bijan. Asha watched and wondered what they were talking about since there were no birds on the branches.
The bald man continued and Bijan stood next to him while the looked at the tree. “There is a beautiful bird in the Elderflower Temple,” said the bald man. “I believe it is in need of some honey,” added the man.
Bijan did not reply, instead nodded, and motioned to Asha to follow him as they continued to pass through the alleyway. They walked at a brisk pace getting to the other end of the alley and were instantly met with the sea of humanity that were anxious to get their deals done to put their goods on the routes with the caravan. Both Bijan and Asha walked with the crowd, taking short steps as the walkway was difficult to navigate in the tight area.
“We are headed to an herb shop,” shouted Bijan to Asha. “It is up ahead on the right. Make sure you don’t go past it, or you will be trampled if you try to come back against the flow.”
Asha nodded in response, and looked for a sign for an herb shop, above the heads of the crowd. There, she saw it as she moved with the crowd, and worked herself into the enclave of the entrance of the shop. She waited for a moment while Bijan made his way through the heightened crowd. Asha had inadvertently got ahead of Bijan, but he had caught up with her while she waited for him before entering the shop.
“Shall we,” suggested Bijan opening the door and waving his hand for Asha to enter. Asha walked through and was right away met with the aroma of a medley of herbs.
“Smells really good in here,” said Asha to Bijan. “Are we going to buy something?”
“Not today,” responded Bijan.
Asha looked around and saw there was no one in the store to help them. “Well, that’s a shame. The mint and patchouli smell amazing,” she said while she took a spoonful of dried herbs from a pile on the table, lifting them up to take in their scent.
Bijan waiting for a second while Asha looked around. Then he said, “Let’s head to the back, now.”
He led the way, his cloak trailing behind him as he stepped. He opened the door behind the counter and walked through. Confused, Asha followed him not knowing what they were doing.
7 Nothing is True
“Good day, Bijan,” a youthful brother announced steadily. “We were just speaking of you.” He nodded with an extravagant courtesy while adopting an expression of astonishment.
“Good things, I hope,” countered Bijan in a confrontational manner.
“Of course,” answered the young man who wore a hood and cape much like Bijan, however, it was crimson red with gold embroidered. A large brass belt took up most of the young man’s torso, and leather straps ventured from various parts of his body. One held a small dagger by his chest, another provided protection around his shoulders. The hood covered most of his face, but his face was exceptionally appealing.
Standing in the room full of other assassins who sat at a rectangular table, the young man continued to face Bijan and Asha with his back toward the table of men. The empty seat was at the head, as this man must have been leading the meeting. The young man continued, “But you must excuse me. We were not anticipating you personally. I was positive the High Justicar would assign someone of lower standing from the Clan of Bahram to assist with an assignment such as this.”
Bijan, moving closer to where the men stood by the table and halted a few yards away said, “Technically, the High Justicar sent my initiate, Asha Ayari. I am only her mentor, along for the ride and here to insure she achieves the First Degree. That is all.”
“I knew the High Justicar wouldn’t send his second in command to Çiriş.”
“Have things between our clans have gotten this dreadful?” Bijan rhetorically asked. “That you would expect a low-level, untrained assassin over an accomplished Councilor?”
“Our clans have had a falling out, yes. And, we would not expect the Gr
eat Bijan Hakimi to come to our rescue.” The man returned to his seat, in a way, dismissing Bijan.
As the man returned to his seat and deliberately sat down, Bijan interjected, “When was the last time you came to the aid of the Clan of Bahram.” Bijan paused for a moment and then said, “That’s right, we don’t need your aid. But when you call, we come.”
The young man got up from his seat, his fist on the saber that sat in his waistband, and approached Bijan, coming to the front of the table yet again. “That enough from you, Bijan, you little jerk! Let’s determine if you fight as well as you use your rhetoric. He spun, facing his men who sat at the table, raising his sword, “Should I kill the bastard?”
The anger that radiated from this hooded man was palpable as tensions rose. Asha was left, standing next to Bijan who reached back, accessing his sword.
“Asha, I don’t think you had the pleasure of meeting Hashem,” said Bijan as he stood, waiting. “We are in the new headquarters of the Sacred Band of Çiris. Usually, things are not so tense with the Band, but with Hashem and I, we have a long history of rivalry.” Asha nodded in response, blown away at the display that fell before her.
Without waiting for an answer from Hashem, Bijan turned violet with rage. Bijan yelled at the man who had his back toward them, “Hope you have been taking sword lessons, maybe this time you’ll put up more of a fight. Bijan advanced toward Hashem.
Hashem turned around. “That’s enough from you, Bijan!” Hashem sneered. In turn, Hashem charged at Bijan, his arms overhead as he wielded the saber, with his sword falling out right toward Bijan’s forehead. Instantly, Bijan blocked the attack with his saber and met Hashem’s blade followed by twirling to release the pressure. With a slip from Hashem’s saber, Bijan side-stepped to evade the weapon slicing his torso.
