The Black Arrow - Chapter One

Prologue

I can remember, my sister shivered in my arms as my father screamed down the hall. He had found the jade bowl Catherine had accidentally smashed while playing. We had tried to fix it with mud and saliva and hoped to the gods that father would be too drunk to notice. After all, he had just gotten home from the pub, like every night. That’s where all our money went. That’s why we hadn’t eaten in two days, so it’s not like that bowl was going to go to much use anyway. Our mother died giving birth to me, something my father would never let me live down. That I killed our mother, I mean. It’s the reason for his drinking and our family’s misery. Catherine was the result of a drunken hookup and was left on our doorstep one night. She was the only thing in the world that ever mattered to me.

We lay under her bed in out otherwise empty bedroom. I did my best to console her and quiet her. I knew our father would hear her tears and be through that door in seconds. He was.

The wooden door slammed open, “Where are you, brats?”

Catherine whined louder and nuzzled into my side.

“Ssh,” I told her, but he’d already heard us.

He looked under the bed with pure evil in his eyes. I had never seen that much hate in anyone before. He snatched my sister’s arm and dragged her out from under the bed as she cried.

“Stop crying!” He screamed at her, “you broke my property, didn’t you?”

“No, it was me!” I yelled as I crawled out after her. “I did it. Catie did nothing!”

“Sebastion… “He dropped Catherine like a stone and turned to me. “Of course it was you. Do you ever not cause me trouble?”

“I-“I began to speak but was cut off by his massive grip grabbing me by the throat and lifting me to his level. I was only ten-years old so it felt like I was being held over a building. He glared into my brown eyes with his own matching pair. He held me so close I could feel the prickle of his short black beard on my face and the smell of whiskey burned my nose.

“Give me one reason I shouldn’t end your life right now. You little freaks are always ruining my life!” He screamed at the top of his lungs, as if I was on a faraway mountain-top or something. He forced me to stare into his eyes as he continued ranting about what I mistake Catherine and I were. I got sick of it. I used all the strength I had stored in my little body to swing my left leg forward and puncture his knee with my foot. He yelped and instantly dropped me to the floor.

“Catherine, run!” I screamed at my sister, but she was already running to the door. I quickly followed.

I dodged around the corner into the hallway and down to see Catherine jumping at the door. She was only four and could not yet reach the doorknob.

“Bash, it won’t open!” She yelped.

“I’m coming!” I yelled back right before my head was sent slamming into the wooden ground. My father lifted me up by the scruff of my neck. I quickly scanned the room for an escape. There was little left. One small end table with a red vase on it, and three small pillows in the kitchen where we would sometimes eat.

Catherine ran over and tugged at his pant leg, “Daddy, put him down! I did it!”

“What?” He turned to scream at her and I quickly pulled together every ounce of saliva I could manage and sent it flying like a cannon directly into his eye.

“Agh!” He dropped me once more and jumped back in such a way that his knee collided with Catherine, sending her tiny body flying into the small end table. Her skull hit the very corner and she fell motionless to the floor.

“Catie!” I cried and ran to sit next to her. I shook her lifeless body. Blood rained out of her head like a storm. You wouldn’t think such an innocent fall could do so much damage. Tears bellowed down from my eyes for the first and last time in my life.

“Oh great, look what you did.” My father knelt down beside me, “ Killing your own mother wasn’t enough? Had to murder a four-year-old girl too?”

“Shut up!” My voice cracked, “I- I didn’t mean to.”

“Seems to be the only thing you’re good at is killing people.” He growled, “You’re cleaning this mess up.”

The tears welled up in my eyes and the rage in my blood. I grabbed the first thing near me, which happened to just be that large red vase, and smashed it with all my might over the man’s head. The man who said all I was good for was killing. It was time I took his word for it. Shards of glass scattered across the room and into his head. One lashed across my face and just over my eye, mixing my blood with that of the rest of my family.

My father’s body dropped over my sister’s. His head looked like a bashed-in pile of cow guts. My family was all dead. Gone. It was because of me. My whole family was gone and every death was because of me. I was a murderer. All I was good for was killing. What would I do now?

I didn’t even think. My body acted on its own free will and my legs picked up, ran to the door, slammed it open, and ran off into the night. I would never look back. I would never love anything again. Everyone who got close to me, I killed. I could never feel anything ever again. That’s how I would live from then on. And that scar… that scar would stay on my face forever just to remind me of who I was.



Chapter One: Kill for Cash



They looked like two star-crossed teenagers in love for the first time the way they cradled their hands within each others’. You would never guess that he was a middle-aged man cheating on his wife and that she was just days away from taking the Oath of Varadation. If you’re wondering what that is it’s like becoming a nun but instead you worship Vara; the child goddess of innocence. Don’t you just love how this kind of stuff all works out?

She swooned and sighed as the man kissed up and down her neck. It made me almost give away my position as I swear to the gods, situations like this made me feel like vomiting. I stay quiet as I crouched behind a couple giant sacks of rice and corn. We were in the man’s house: he was a farmer. Why he felt the need to scatter random portions of his harvest around the house was beyond me. Not that I was complaining, if anything it just made my job easier. I readied my bow and peeked it around one of the large sacks. This was going to be my last kill. I had taken on the life of an assassin very young; around the age of eleven. I was so young that no one really suspected me. Not to mention the pay. At this point I had enough saved up that I didn’t need to take any more lives. I could move to the countryside and start a brand new life. One that I’d always wanted. Alone.

“What about your wife?” She looked up at him, “she said that if she saw us together again that she would kill us both.”

“Those are just empty threats,” he scoffed. “Forget about Helena. What she doesn’t know won’t hurt her.”

“But she does know! And I’m more afraid she is going to hurt us.” Her voice began to crack, “I don’t know what I’d do if I lost you.”

“My dear, I promise to never leave you.” He said.

I rolled my eyes. The cheesy banter was overwhelming.

“I don’t want to keep sneaking around like this.” She cried, “Just leave her for me, we can run away together! It’s not like the two of you have any children.”

The tedious job of awaiting just the right moment was probably the thing I would be glad the most to be rid of. You would think the life of an assassin to be exciting and dramatic, but it is honestly the most boring career you could ever think of. Keep in mind I’ve never had another career.

He rested his forehead against that of his mistress and leaned in for a kiss, “Okay. I promise to try leaving her again.”

“And what if this shot doesn’t work?” She said.

“I promise this will be my one last shot.” I whispered right before kissing her.

As it will be mine, I thought right before letting my fingers loose of the string and sending my arrow flying through both of their heads with perfect precision. So perfect in fact that the two didn’t even fall over. The arrow held them together so that they were supporting each other. Hopefully they died on impact; I hate hearing morons cry.

I scurried out into the open. The house smelled of booze and mold; a smell I knew all too well from my childhood. The bodies stood up right near the table where the man’s wife had told me I could find the second half of my pay. I glanced under the thin wood and noticed a small pocket taped to the underside. I took it and opened the pouch to find fifteen gold coins.

I smiled and put the coins into my pocket. I was finished. That was my last kill.



Once outside I walked to the market in hopes of buying some bread for dinner. I didn’t even bother to clean up the scene because I figured if I hadn’t been caught in seven years than I wasn’t going to get caught now. The guards of Firchek had absolutely no idea how to deal with a murder, much less a murderer. If I was caught, I know it would be easy to escape. No one could catch me. You could even ask anyone, resort to any poster, and listen in on the chitter-chatter of the guards. I was The Black Arrow and my identity will forever remain a mystery. Here, I’ll ask someone just to prove it to you.

“Excuse me, miss.” I tapped a small old lady on the shoulder.

She stopped walking and looked up at me, “Yes?”

“I was just wondering, who is this Arrow that everyone keeps talking about?” I asked her. For your sake, not just because I enjoy talking about myself.

“You don’t know of him?” She gasped, “You don’t know of him? Some say he isn’t even human. They say his heart is made of ice as cold as the God Siofo and that those who hire him are even colder.”

“Hire him?” I asked with my superb acting ability.

She nodded, “They’ve been after him for years but no one has ever even seen him. He must live in constant hiding because not a single person has any idea what he looks like. I believe him to be the worst creature to ever happen to Firchek. So be careful young lad, if you mess around with anyone they may just summon the Arrow on you. They aren’t just empty threats. I’ve heard he’s around.”

“Wow, that’s scary.”

She put her finger to her lips, “no more talk of murderers. If the guards catch wind there will be trouble.”

“Yes ma’ me, of course.” I pulled one of the coins out of my pocket and slipped it into the lady’s hands. “Thank you for your time.”

“Aw, you’re such a sweet young man. Thank you.” She smiled before walking off with turtle-like speed.

And that’s my point. I was infamous. One of the most famous people of my era, but no one knew who I was. There were posters lining up and down all the streets without my name or face, but anyone with true information would be showered in gold. Only no one had any information. Whenever someone came to meet with me I wore a mask, and I barely spoke to anyone in my spare time. If I did, I paid them for their time so they would think of me as a kind citizen with no ulterior motive. When my mask was off, that’s who I was. And that mask was never going on my face again.

“Good morning, sir!” A man interrupted my thinking. He was one of the many merchandisers that sold their wares in the town center. To be honest, I had absolutely no idea what town I was currently in. I moved around so much to keep from holding eyes that it had become impossible to keep track of where I was all the time.

I nodded politely in his direction and kept on my way. This may have been many others’ opinions of a good morning, but not mine. The sun was blinding my eyes, beads of sweat were pouring down my neck, and I had the uncomfortable idea to strip and just walk around naked for the rest of the day. It would be a lot better than a dark brown leather vest over a long white tunic. And the pants… for god’s sake, I felt like I was walking in fire! In case you can’t figure it out for yourself, I hate the heat. I mean that. I hate the heat.

“Hey, you look uncomfortable.” The man placed his hand on my shoulder and turned me around. “You know what would make you feel better? This gorgeous hat! Keep the sun out of your eyes and look fancy at the same time.”

I rolled my eyes, “Sorry, I’m good.”

“What’s your name? I’m Timothy.” The man force-shook my hand. His skin was wrinkly and he sported a long brown beard that made him look too sophisticated and wise to be selling merchandise, Maybe that was part of the gig?

“Cedric,” I lied. “Look, I don’t want a hat.”

“Oh, come on!” The man placed the hat on my head, knocking my forehead in the process.

I took it off and glanced at it. It was a bright magenta with a ridiculous amount of fake feather layering the fabric.

“Isn’t this a girl’s hat?” I asked.

“And don’t girls look lovely in them?” He seemed almost too excited, “Buy it for your girlfriend! Surely a handsome lad like you has a pretty lady he could spoil with such fashion.”

“No.” I placed the hat on top of his head, perhaps with a little more pressure than a kind citizen would.

“Oh, sorry!” He stumbled back and muttered to himself, “Must be that red hair… the hat would probably do you good.”

And my arrow through your skull would probably do you good, I thought to myself before turning to walk away.

“Wait! If its love you want then you should read this!” He pulled me over to his cart and shoved a large book into my arms. “If you dream of feelings, here is your answer!”

I shoved it back into his hands, “Look…I don’t love. I don’t feel. And I don’t read.”

“Well, now is as good a time as ever to start.” He shoved it back.

I looked down at the cover. The symbols made my head spin and I could only guess what they said. And my guess probably wouldn’t have been right…

“No, I mean… I can’t…” I muttered to myself as he went on a rant about how reading was like candy for the soul and cake for the brain. I’ve tried reading before when I was young, but I never could figure out the symbols. When most young boys played with education enhancing toys, I was protecting my sister. When they went to school, I was killing for money. When they were graduating, I became an infamous murderer.

I placed the book back onto his cart. That’s when I noticed a small pendant hanging from one of the wooden frames. It showed a black arrow shooting directly through the center of a circular swirl, which I knew for sure was supposed to be mist. This was the symbol of The Black Arrow. My followers would carry them around as an insult to King Walter and his family. I had one on a piece of rope wrapped around my neck, hidden underneath my shirt. They were not legal. I used to find them so cool when I was younger, and so I stole the first one I found. I was becoming famous and at the age of twelve I don’t think I fully understood the life that meant for me; The life of loneliness. But hey, that’s what I asked for.

The man’s eyes widened, “Sorry, I can’t believe I left that out. It’s not mine, I swear! Please, don’t tell anyone…”

I pulled a second gold coin out from my hand and placed it beside the book. “Thank you for your time,” I said just before walking away.

I only made it a few steps before a guard grabbed my arm, “Are you Sebastion Louett?”

I blinked. I hadn’t heard that name in so many years I almost forgot I had it. Not going to lie to you, but the very fact that he knew such a name made my heart race like a drunken rat.

“No,” I ripped my arm away. “My name is Rulf.”

“Funny. I heard you tell that man just two minutes ago that your name is Cedric.” His voice sounded almost inhuman from inside his metal helmet. In fact, his suit of armor probably weighed more than he did. Easy to out-run.

“I have many names.” I told him, “Now, sir, I’m sorry to waste your time but I must go tend to my mother. She is very ill.”

“I see. Does one of those names happen to be, Sebastion? Or perhaps…” He leaned down and whispered into my ear, “The Black Arrow?”

I stepped back. My heart was practically beating out of my chest and I could feel the hair on my arms shoot up like the men in the local strip club. No one had ever accused me before. I braced myself to run, but my body was in shock and refused to move. I tried to make a sound, but words refused to escape my mouth.

“I’ll take that as a yes?” He asked in the metallic voice his helmet created. “Good.”

Just then a large sack was pulled over my head and a large pair of hands wrenched my arms behind my back. My body instantly went into fight mode and before I could give my legs the order, my foot jerked up and slammed into the knee of the person behind me. A sharp pain went up my thigh as my foot collided with the steel of a metal suit. I twisted onto my back and ripped free of the guard’s hands. The sack was dark and faded, and you could hear the chatter of citizens gathering around to watch the scene. I almost slipped out when I felt a sharp pain in my hip sending my blood to a boil. I had just been stabbed with something small, but the pain felt like a scythe was peeling off my skin. That’s when everything went black.