The Blind Assassin
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For centuries she has been used as a weapon to the last humans on earth. Their goal is to overthrow the Demon King who won the battle that changed the world. She cannot remember who or what she is. Having been forced to conceal her eyes and hair for the past six centuries. All she knows is that she never ages anymore. She doesn't speak and always follows her orders. That was until her last mission when she ran into the devil himself. All she had to do was steal a necklace he made for his fated mate, who he still hasn't found. There interaction sparks a new fire within her. For the first time in centuries, she can feel again. He wants her claiming that she is the one he has been searching for. But she is stuck in a darkness that threatens to take her away from him. Will he be able to save her from her their enemies? Can he save her from her own self-destruction before it is too late? Will she learn to let go of her past and accept what is?
Chapter 1: New Mission
Annaluna was a beautiful planet full of life and beauty. A single large mass of land surrounded by countless small island. The mainland with its massive mountain ranges to the east and thick forest broken up by raging rivers. Ancient trees lived within the forests stretching to the skies and providing sturdy homes within them. Many homes were carved into the trees and could easily house families of forty. Everyone lived among nature and to the humans they were the only ones. Living in peace with simple lives full or love and endless laughter. They followed their kindhearted king and believed nothing bad could ever happen.
But there was a darkness lurking in the shadows. The truth that was hidden from the eyes of humans. When the veil between realities fell a war ensued. Humans and beings of light fought against demons and beings of the night. The war lasted only a few weeks before the humans were forced to retreat. Fleeing into the thickest parts of the forest to save the few that remain. Leaving the king of demons to rule overall the lands.
However, the humans still have not given up. Resorting to capturing supernatural beings and forcing them to become their perfect weapons. They didn’t care if you once fought along side them or helped in their retreat. All they wanted was to bring an end to the demons and their king. No one was safe from their greed. Not even me.
My name is Asura Rain Mozren, the last of my bloodline. Most of the people I am around believe that I am cursed. I was cast aside because I was left an orphan after the war. Orphans were seen as only being good enough to join their forces against the demons. I was only six when my “training” began. Starting with being forced to bind my eyes so others couldn’t see them. Then hiding my strange colored hair under a black beanie. Given four rules I must live by:
1. Never remove the mask over my eyes.
2. Always hide my hair behind a black beanie
3. Never mention my name to anyone.
4. Never let anyone close. No friends.
The mask covering my eyes is invisible to me. To everyone else it looks like a black cloth with intricate gold embroidery depicting scenes of the Great War. The binding wraps around my eyes and over my nose and ears. Thankfully, it doesn’t make it hard to hear or breath. Like I said it is invisible to me both in sight and feel. I can bathe with it on to keep it clean, but I may never remove it. Just like the black beanie that always has my hair hidden away in it. Only I am allowed to remove the beanie to wash my hair and then put a new beanie on. My hair dries quickly so I never end up putting wet hair into my hats.
Other than those two permanent articles of clothing I am only permitted to wear black. Meaning I have a black turtleneck long sleeve shirt with a black under bust corset. Black skinny jeans which were surprisingly very flexible to not restrict my movements. Knee-high black high heel boots. Seeing as I was only five foot tall I needed all the height I could get. I also wore black leather armguards laced with black ribbon to secure them too my arms. As well as black leather gloves so I wouldn’t be leaving my fingerprints anywhere.
As far as weapons go, I have a plethora of them. Tucked away in the safety of my boots as obsidian daggers, two in each boot. Then I have a satchel secured to my right hip, with the straps wrapping around my waist and right thigh. Inside the satchel I have an assortment of poisons, antidotes, and around twenty shuriken. There are also some medical supplies for if I get injured. I have a couple more daggers strapped to the left forearm. Then for the larger weapons. There are two twin black obsidian katanas strapped to my back. Again, I am a shorty, and my katanas would only drag on the ground if they were strapped to my waist. So, they are on my back where I can reach them over my shoulders. I also carry a bow and arrows. The quiver for my arrows is in the middle of my back. On top of the sheaths that hold my katanas when are crossed over my back. I normally carry the bow but if I need both my hands I can drape it over my shoulder. Crossing it over everything else I have on, so it won’t just fall off.
When I am not being sent on a mission I have the pleasure of calling a tiny one-person cell my home. Yes, they keep their “weapon” locked up in prison cells when not in use. The spaces are simple and there is no form of privacy. Even the small bathrooms at the end of each cell are open for all the other “weapons” viewing. Other than a small toilet and sink there is a twin-size mat on the floor. No bed frame, no belongings, no lights. Only small rectangle bared windows to allow any form of light in.
‘Heard you are being sent on a new mission tonight.’ The sound of my only, secret, friend filtered into my mind as I was returned to my cells. Fully armed and ready to go.
Molina had become my secret friend almost ten years ago. Her being a demon allowed us to communicate through mind link so no one would know we were talking. She was a stunning woman. With long thick curly black hair that framed her heart shaped face. Four horns peaking out of her hair on top of her head. two medium length horns curving up and outwards before almost meeting back in the middle. Then two smaller horns about the size of my hand, sticking straight up in front of the larger horns. Her cat-like eyes glowed orange in the dim light with star shaped pupils. She had long pointy ear that were heavily pierced. With the body of a warrior and standing at five foot eight inches tall. She also has black bat-like wings, black claws instead of human nails, and she is practically immortal.
‘They have honored me by stealing a necklace,’ I replied sarcastically. ‘Apparently, they think if they take the necklace it will weaken Mazenor.”
‘They want you to steal the heart of Mazenor?’ She smirked raising and eyebrow at me. ‘Do they not realize he could just make another one?’
‘They think it contains a part of his soul,’ I stated closing my eyes as I sat crossed leg on the mat.
I owed a lot to Molina, before she arrived I was just an empty shell. I never bothered to question anything, and I always did what was expected of me. After about a month of Molina talking to me without me responding, I began to change. Molina was somehow able to share the ability to replicate objects with me. So, unbeknownst to our owners, I had started to give them the replicates of the objects they wanted. All while Molina and I were planning our escape. She also taught me more about supernatural beings. Things that humans didn’t care to know about. It opened my eyes to how wrong everything we were doing was.
‘You should try to talk to my king.’ Molina’s word had my eyes snapping open in shock.
‘Talk to the King of Demons?’ I inquired while fighting the urge to look over at her. ‘All while I am secretly replicating his precious necklace to give to his enemies?’
‘Good point.’ I could hear her chuckle softly. ‘Maybe if you removed the mask over your eyes. You could convince him to help us escape with your beauty.’
‘How would know if I am beautiful or hideous?’ I challenged knowing that she had no clue what I looked like. In all honesty I have forgotten what I looked like. It was strange, because I have been under their control for years now, but I never seem to grow older.
‘Just a feeling.’ That was all she said. ‘Oh, before I forget, I have decided I want to call you Soleis. It means light.’
‘What don’t you like calling me the Blind Assassin?’ I teased knowing how much she hated calling me by the name the humans gave me.
‘You’re not even blind.’ She groaned. ‘Humans have no creativity when it comes to names.’
Molina had been adamant about giving me a “proper” name. At least until I was able to remember my own name. Sadly, after a lifetime of not hearing your name and being called something else. You tend to forget what name you were born with. Or, in my case, how old you are and where you came from. The humans made sure to beat that out of me. I had suffered from memory problems since I was forced to join their “team”. After many years passed, I stop fighting to try and remember who I was. In all honesty I gave up on myself and gave in to their wishes.
Chapter 2: The Bridge
Getting into the palace of the king was surprisingly easy for me. Thanks to Molina for helping me learn how to conceal the sounds of my heart and mask my scent. To mask my scent, I had stolen a demon’s cloak. Therefore, making me smell like the demon I stole it from. I used the roof-tops to maneuver my way up to the king’s chambers. Slipping in through an open window. Thankfully, no one was in the chambers, and it was only dimly lit by a single fireplace. Even in the darkness though I couldn’t deny the beauty of the space.
The window I came through was right next to the massive two-story river rock fireplace. In front of the fireplace were two four-person dark brown couches. With two armchairs all surrounding the solid wood coffee table. A large crimson rug sat under the furniture providing a barrier between the hard wood floors and the feet of the furniture. On each wall behind the couches were bookcases. Filled with books of all kinds and thicknesses. Just beyond this sittin
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