It was his first job in a very long time. The royalty of Artanis had been reluctant to trust him, but the sincerity of his lack of emotion was a good thing. The council had determined that an emotionless person would not seek revenge, nor linger on events of the past. He would do as he was told. Cain intended to honor this, although his first priority was always to try and understand other people. He had been killing them for so long that he had forgotten what it was to be human. The pure logic of his mind had been weighted with a longing to rediscover what it meant to be human. 

The former assassin stood, perched atop the peak angle of a roof, scouring the town for his target. His attire was the same he had always worn in his former life, black wrappings and fabric that made him look almost like a living shadow. He was the one who set the bar for all assassins, he was quiet, deadly, and cold. His wrappings and bits of worn and tattered fabric fluttered in the wind as he looked over the market district. He did not know the name of his employer, nor the target. He merely had a mental image, but that was enough. She had run away for the better part of the day, and he was to bring her back safely. This was a new kind of job for him.

It didn't take him long to spot the clothes. They stood out like a sore thumb against the dreary brown of the market and slum. Cain placed his new mask on his face. His old one didn't stay well now that he was staring to grow hair. This mask was made of the same obsidian steel, but had a more obscure depiction of the shape of a skull as its form. He squatted and dropped to ground level. 

****

As Cain approached the girl and her opponents, he caught sight of her brush with the boy. There was magic there, and suddenly she understood his feelings. This was very interesting. Cain emerged from the shadows and took a seat in the dirt. He sat Indian style and waited for the boys to catch sight of him. Certainly it would not take much to frighten off a few thug-wannabes. 

[@shylarah]