Sleep. It crossed my mind a few times, only to be quickly diminished by the resounding voice of Jaxsen bouncing around in my head. Each spoken syllable could have been framed and hung on a wall of “The World`s Most Annoying, Yet Commanding Tones”. I`d say it was up around the area of someone holding their nose as tightly as possible while blurting out instructions in five different languages at the top of their lungs. Yet I had been the lucky one to endure his rantings for the last couple of years. Jaxsen was one of the greatest of my many masters within the Shadow Eye, but social interactions with him could fell a giant.

He, however, was the least of my problems at this particular time and sleep would just have to wait until I was dead. An uneasiness weighed heavily on my shoulders this night.

I had done my best to keep the blood from rushing to my head at a rapid pace while suspended from the wooden beams high above, gracefully pulling myself up every few minutes to get my bearings and then slowly descending my torso back to the correct position. You trained for this a million times over. I`d reminded myself every so often, knowing that an attack from above was one of several ways to throw off your target before they had a chance to draw a weapon. The corridors` slimmer support beams were sturdy enough for all of my one hundred and sixty-something pounds to handle, a typical weight for a female slightly under six feet tall, but I certainly took the liberty of checking the ceiling stability beforehand.

The cool breeze blowing through the dark hallway was quite refreshing against my skin, especially since sweat began forming from the muscle tension in various parts of my body. I know I am going to hurt tomorrow, of course, that’s if I make it out of here. Part of the training, as any good Agent of the Empire, is to ignore the pain which would only stand in the way of the greater good. “The Greater Good”? I was never sure exactly what that was, considering hypocrisy ruled and not a single species would dare speak out against the authorities within the Empire. I was just happy to be part of something...but whether it was "good", per se, was beyond my comprehension.

Keep focused Czigani...

The assignment was fairly cut and dry: sneak into the Morningstar Cathedral and remove the zealot known as Marcus. At the first mention of a "cathedral", I all but jumped up with excitement. Religiosity was not my forte`, nor was I ever going to be swayed by another fanatic of the local church and their double speak with regard to unstable, insane gods. I had enough of my own problems without being lectured to. Oddly enough, this particular zealot was not for the Empire, but against it, leaking false information to outside sources in exchange for monetary securities. I suppose even those who claim to be servants to a "higher power" have their price.

Is it any wonder I’ve not converted yet?

However, the only blemish in this otherwise spotless plan, was that this had been my first live assassination. Typically, an Agent’s objective revolved around less direct interference to the mark, and more covert means of obtaining the goal. Gathering information and using it against the opposition was the name of the game in our circle. Besides, working in the shadows was quite safer than a full-on confrontation and a cold-blooded kill wasn't a means to an end. Whether we cared for it or not though, the will of the Emperor could not be disputed. Any Agent going against the grain of his Lordship`s wishes would find themselves in a very grave situation.

Immediate death, for a traitor of the Steel Empire, would be a reprieve.

Talk about a mental distraction. I tend to find myself dreaming of so many more things than my current state, which makes me wonder about my career decisions. Had killing been the only resolve for this circumstance? Maybe. Possibly. Especially for one as unhinged from reality as Marcus was. There was a time when he was given the opportunity to assist the Empire, but that time had long passed.

The echo of footsteps snapped me back from my moment of reverie. Such a pity. The hallway was rather long and slightly curved to the contour of the outer walls of the Cathedral. The building itself was quite beautiful, but nothing I could spend my days in. I poised myself, shifting my body a little to make sure that my legs were still working. This would be one of the worst moments for a muscle cramp, or possibly worse, dropping one of the three silver daggers I had in my possession. How would I explain that?

From the sounds of the approaching footsteps, I could almost make out two pairs of shoes. Even more so, one slightly lighter in step and at a quicker pace, as though they were trying to match stride with the first set. Nonetheless, whomever was accompanying Marcus would, unfortunately, have to die right along with the poor fool.

Leave no witnesses.

My eyes slowly closed, as I realigned focus and listened intently to the oncoming targets. A male`s voice was mumbling something in anger, as the footsteps quickened ever so slightly, shushing the other`s voice who was inaudible at that moment. The second pair of footsteps, seemingly smaller strides, kept up well. It was rather unfortunate not having the luxury of night vision, as I was well aware that they were only but a dagger`s throw from my line of sight. The dimly lit corridor didn`t help, but I still had the advantage of vertical attack.

Closer. Step, Step, Step, Step. Closer.

"Papa, slow down a little, my feet are starting to hurt in these shoes!"

Her tiny voice echoed through the hallway and hit my heart like a thousand finely sharpened spears. My eyes shot wide open and, my legs, which held onto the support beams, began screaming for relief. I ignored it, but couldn`t ignore the one apparent fact that my targets company was his little girl. Why in the nine hells did it have to be on this night? My mind quickly rationalized. Maybe it wasn`t Marcus who was coming up into my view, maybe it had been...

Before that thought could even conclude, both figures below came into view. Marcus was walking at a steady pace, holding a thick leather-bound book in one hand, his dark red cloth robe trailing along the stone floor. He looked about as scheming as the next religious right, and yet seemed pretty intent on staying his course. I grasped both daggers as my focus seemed to be entirely on the middle-aged clergy for that split second, until a sudden attention shift had me staring at the little girl in the emerald dress, her hand holding onto her father`s other free hand.

She couldn`t have been anymore than seven or eight years of age, with long, ebony locks of hair that curled at the ends. Her dress shimmered in the dim torch light, giving off an almost angelic aura, as did the various pearl and ruby necklaces which tied it all together. Her visage, had all the signs of innocence, undefiled and pure.

I was once that child.

Both father and daughter walked quickly passed where I had hung above them, waiting, watching, as my intended targets left unharmed.

Why, of all the nights in all of the known galaxies, did it have to be a child…

(to be continued...)

There was absolutely no way that I could allow him to still remain breathing. A religious zealot who lingered about unchecked had been far worse than a mob of armed street thugs. They didn`t bother with sheer force alone, but their words derailed the truth, bent it to their own wicked will, and spat it back in the face of society. How much chaos would erupt at the expense of so many? How much flak would I receive for fumbling the plan of my masters? Or worse, the Master.

NO. This cretin had to be eliminated. Daughter or not.

I arched my torso, lifting my upper body up so I could grab hold of the wooden beam, thereby freeing my legs to swing down for a soft landing onto the cold, stone floor. Ouch. I think I had been up there longer than expected, as my thighs screamed with a sharp pain, only to find myself still pursuing the mark rather than basking in the glory of the kill. I didn`t enjoy the hunt, but only the satisfaction of knowing that one less rancid scum of society was off the street and out of the system. And where had the bastard been going in such a hurry that he couldn`t even slow down enough for his own flesh and blood? Ah well, it wasn`t my business to know or care about the trivial points of life. However, if a chase was, in fact, in the cards then so be it.

I have time...to kill.

Having been through this cathedral on a dry-run days before, I had a pretty good idea of where Marcus was headed. On the other side of the large oak doors, was a spiraling stairway to the top of the main tower, which housed several doors to unknown rooms. Unknown, because most of them were dead-bolted with a series of intricate locking mechanisms which had been next to impossible to disengage. The Steel Empire didn`t miss a beat when it came to security, although, ironically enough, when it came to lock-picking tools either. Regardless, I was certain that several other doors had been sealed with more than physical security means. Magic was, no doubt, being used as an additional precaution, making it that much more difficult.

I hated magic.

My ear listened intently for the fading footsteps, until I was sure it was clear, and gracefully attempted my luck on the door. "Already unlocked? Nice..." I tried my best to keep it to a dull roar, but some things still surprised me. I quickly slipped in through the cracked door and closed it behind me with a soft 'clink' of the metal latch. The footsteps echoed off the stone walls from way above the spiraling stairs. I couldn`t believe how quickly they were moving, as though time itself was slowing for me and staying constant for the rest of the world. I shook off the idiotic thoughts, and moved swiftly up the stairs, taking care to stay with my back firmly along the wall as I ascended the dimly lit tower.

There must`ve been several thousand steps leading up to the very top, which had been, at the least, ten or twelves stories high. Fortunately, my target had made his way through the second level entry door. Could this one still be unlocked as the first was? I quickly slipped over to the closed door, listening to make sure that the footsteps had left enough distance. The door pushed open this time, as though it was never latched to begin with. My guess was that they had designed these particular doors for the simple reason that if you could already make it into the cathedral and main tower, what was the point of further security measures?

Of course, I had been wrong before.

The pungent aroma of rose oil assaulted my senses as the door cracked open and I stepped out into the partially lit hallway. The footsteps of both Marcus and the child came from my left, as I watched their shadowed forms disappear into the darkened corridor. What was it with the lack of lighting in this place? Not that I was complaining, considering the shadows were my only ally in this sort of business. Nonetheless, I couldn`t imagine anyone wanting to live like this. The dark certainly had its advantages, but there was a loss of so much as well. An absence of color, of warmth, leaving everything with a feeling of cold separation. I certainly was no stranger to that, living much of my childhood in such a home, void of any true warmth.

I kept my back to the wall and my ears opened. I had to give my eyes time to adjust to the changes in lighting, but my hearing had always been sharp...on key. I suppose you could say that was one of the few things that my lost heritage had passed down to me. Even as a child, I picked up on music fairly quickly, impressing even myself with well thought-out pieces on the piano. My mother, a woman I had never been able to know, was quite fond of the piano and violin from what I was told. Who knows, maybe if life as a spy doesn`t work out...

I shuddered at the thought, mentally reprimanding myself in the process. I couldn`t imagine life as a travelling musician.

Another door opened at the end of the hall, casting a washed-out yellowish glow along the wall and floor, as both figures entered into the brightly lit room and closed the door behind them. Perfect. I had to make mention of the "lack of lighting" earlier, didn`t I? Interestingly enough, the light from the room on the other side of the door barely leaked through the cracks of the door and it`s frame. What true craftsmanship to have such a fit. In either case, I slipped my way up to the door and peeked through the keyhole, the light causing me to squint until my pupils adjusted. From my narrowed vantage, it appeared like a library or study of some type, but that didn`t seem to be much of surprise to me considering that was all I saw on my first secret visit here only days before.

No one does that much reading.

My eye surveyed as much as it could from the tiny keyhole, as my ears continued to keep attentive to any nearby voices from the room. After a moment, I could hear the low mumblings of Marcus, although couldn`t quite make out what it was he was saying. It almost sounded like a foreign dialect. He then passed in front of my view, about five or six feet from the door, with his head down staring at an open book in his hands. He continued to pace back and forth until he was out of my sight once again. At that point, it became slightly frustrating being at such a disadvantage as I was. Would they care if I just stormed in, daggers blazing? That would have been an option, if it hadn`t been for the presence of the little girl.

That`s the last thing I needed on my already scarred conscience. A dead child.

I moved away from the door, and leaned back against the shadowed wall, taking a deep breath. For once, I was at a loss. I had never killed anyone in cold blood, especially not on a guild-assigned task. On the one side, I could wait until he comes back out of the room and then strike while I still hold the advantage of darkness. Or, there is always th-

Hmm. There is nothing worse than being in the midst of sorting through an intricate plan, only to be disrupted by the unexpected unlatching of yet another door.

Near the opposite end of the hall, a large door opened, and out stepped a robed figure holding a small candle. From the distance, his features could hardly be pin-pointed, but he seemed slightly older. It mattered little though, because whomever this figure was just became my personal skeleton key. I slipped my way over to the other wall and crept along at just enough speed to not cause a stir in the silence. Although, I did my best to keep in time with his footsteps in an effort to conceal my own. The robed man stopped at the door which I had initially entered from, that lead into the spiraling stairway. This was my chance.

As his hand grabbed the door handle to pull it open, the cold, steel edge of my dagger found the warmth of his neck. I kept my hand firm, as the dagger`s edge threatened against his aging skin.

"Don`t move...and you just might live to corrupt another day." I whispered into his ear, with a tone of disdain leaking through like acid. I could feel his body tremble slightly, but his composure was rather solid. Had he expected something like this? Or, had I expected some sort of dramatics to come pouring from the old fool? At least I was certain that he was not going for any weapon, considering one hand held the brass candleholder and the other still held onto the door. The robed man slowly turned his head toward my direction and I could almost make out a grin across his lips. I applied a bit more pressure to his neck, causing him to tilt his head back slightly.

"Now you have something I want...father" I whispered once again, responding to his wry grin with a deceitful smile of my own.

(to be continued...)

As though it wasn`t bad enough that members of the clergy, the clerics, of the church within the Empire`s realm left a bad taste in my mouth that I couldn`t wait to spit out, this man...this robed embodiment of all things evil, could only stand here frozen with a smirk on his wrinkled face. When his life was only a flick of my wrist away from being over, he glazed from the corner of his eyes, trying to get a better look at my eyes from the dark cloth wrap which shrouded my visage. His attempts to bring the candlelight up and closer to me had failed in the worst way, as I hammered down onto his wrist with my other free hand, causing him to unclench the brass tri-branch candelabra and sending it clanging to the smooth stone floor. At least one of my problems had been resolved, the flame was no more.

"Ugh! What is it you want?!" He said in an almost hushed ferocity. Obviously, I`d irritated him enough that the smile was wiped from his face, so naturally, I couldn`t help but delight in the moment.

Sub-mission accomplished.

"Compliments will get you no where quick, cleric. Just be happy that I didn`t break your arm in the process." On the other hand, at his age, I probably fractured something, besides his ego.

"For crying out loud, girl, if you`re going to kill me then be-"

I cut him off, mid-sentence, with just enough pressure against his throat to make my point. His voice was a bit loud, probably too loud since the hallway acoustics were quite impressive.

"First of all, I need you to shut your mouth and do as I say, do you understand?" I quietly demanded into his ear, not wanting to add to the already broken silence. "I`m not here for you, anyway, so lets keep it that way, yeah?"

I heard the unlatching of a door down the hallway, and quickly pulled the cleric and myself back into the shadowed door inset directly behind me. The door near the end of the hall opened, which happened to be the one occupied by the zealot, Marcus. I could feel the cleric shifting around slightly.

"Move just another inch, and you`ll be missing more than one vital body part." I had to hand it to myself, my threats, whether empty or otherwise, came off pretty harsh at times. But, if I can`t bluff my way through a situation well enough, then what good was I?

A silhouetted figured emerged half-way outside of the doorway. "Hello?...Velan, is that you?...have you brought the necessary ingr-...oh, forget it, I`m obviously talking to myself..." He abruptly closed the door.

The voice was nasally, slightly high-pitched, and every bit as annoyed as ever. Had he been waiting for this man to retrieve something? Figured it was time to find out.

"So, tell me, are you this...Velan?." The name even caused an acidic taste in my mouth, and I didn`t know him from a hole in the wall. "If so, just nod once."

The nod came. Slowly.

"Good. So what was it that Mar-...that the other religious nut wanted from you?" I hadn`t wanted the old man to know who my primary target was, and I hoped, for his sake, he didn`t catch that slip of the tongue. "If you have it on your possession, then slowly present it."

The old man shifted his arm around and slowly raised up a hand-sized tin box to my eye level. It had several runic etchings along it`s side and the lid was pyramid shaped with an ebony tip. With my other free hand, I attempted to grab the tin, but the old man`s fingers snapped firmly around it.

"No, you must`nt..." He frantically whispered.

"Let go you moron!" I growled through my clenched teeth as the tin box dislodged from his grip, and I quickly slipped it into my leather pouch. "Pull another stunt like that, and you`ll loose those fat greasy fingers, I swear."

I truly hated this old man.

After composing myself and resisting the urge to cut his throat right then and there, I decided it would be more beneficial to stay the course. I needed him, as much as it pained me to think about it, and I had to keep focused as well.

"As I stated when we first met, you have something I need. You`re going to get me into that room at the end of the hall..." I motioned my free hand in the general direction. "...and I know you can. I also know that you all have a secret panic phrase if you are in trouble and calling to another member of the congregation." Part of that was true, I knew they had circulating pass phrases to identify one from another, but I was unaware of exactly what theirs was. No matter though.

"I would strongly advise that you not use that panic phrase since our association is well aware of and up-to-date on this churchs activities. Oh, and of course I would kill you if you tried." Figured I would let him meditate on that, even though I`d threatened him enough times already. "If you agree with this, nod and I will continue.".

He nodded, several times, in fact. My guess is he was just getting as tired of this as I was. Too bad for him, because he was still needed.

"Good. We`re going to make our way, together, toward the door at the end of the hall. You will knock, announce your presence, and advise that you have urgency which requires his attention." I paused, trying to think of anything in particular, but continued regardless. "If you understand, start walking slowly."

My intention was to get Marcus out of the room, away from his child, so at least my job would be that much simpler. I couldn`t subject this little girl to such a thing, no matter how I looked at it.

I escorted the old man at knife point, watching for a sudden flinch or possibly a weapon of his own. I hadn`t even checked him for anything, but then again, something told me he wouldn`t have used whatever he had. We made it to the end of the hallway, and I leaned against the shadow of the wall, a couple of feet from the door, motioning with my head for him to move forward with his part of the bargain.

Before the knock could even come, a stern voice from the other side burst out. "Yes? Velan, come in! I was wondering when you`d get here..."

Okay. So Marcus was now, what? A psychic?

(to be continued...)