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TITLE (EDIT)
The Day Of The Sun |
DESCRIPTION
Well, let's see. I swear I was possessed when I wrote this... this is not how I normally write, this muse in my head called Marquis de Sade is taking too much control, the damn sadist, I do not write frank or dark well I didn't until now, but I think this is a cool story anyway... well it's about an assassin Mia who falls into trouble when she is asked to kill the prince.
[861 words] |
TITLE KEYWORD
Fantasy |
AUTHOR
Kelly Allen |
ABOUT
THE AUTHOR
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[September 2002] |
AUTHOR'S E-MAIL ADDRESS
psychoticdreamer@saintly.com |
The Day Of The Sun
Kelly Allen
The Prisoner: chapter 1
The wind whipped furiously around Mia as she tugged her cloak closer. She had to make it home fast or be caught in the violent storm. Home that was too comfortable word. What home really was, was an old barn where she lived alone with rats and raccoons not a home at all. Finally she made it past the hallowing trees and to the barn but when she looked inside she realized she was far from alone. Mikaron was standing over her fire pit, light blue eyes peering at something not entirely there. Why in havens sake was he here? He shouldn’t be, she scowled.
“Havens sakes why are you here?” Mia spat reaching for a dagger in her shirt, memories flooding back into her mind.
“I’m here for a favor Mia.” Mikaron turned around to face her.
“I have a job for you.” He continued.
“What if I don’t like it?” Mia said, tucking her dagger back in its place, her thoughts trailing along the lines of ‘you perverse sob what do you want now?’ Today she particularly did not want to be bothered.
“You see I have got a problem, I want fixed.”
“What kind of problem is this, Mikaron?”
“I had slight disagreement with the king, we had a little dispute over his throne, he thinks it should be his and I know it should be mine. Now do you understand, how many times do I have to tell you to get it through your thick skull.”
And yours isn’t?
“And what precisely do you want me to do?” Mia asked not liking his frank tone of voice.
“Kill the prince and I’ll deal with my friend, the king.” Mikaron smiled and then he left and Mia was glad he did, because she almost melted to the ground at his smile.
Mia could have disregarded Mikaron’s order, (oh they were orders) but that would do her no good. Mia had no ties to the king and country, so killing the prince would be simple, just get him alone, snap his neck or suffocate him and voila he’s dead. Mission accomplished. Mia placed an extra dagger inside her boot and slipped her black tunic over her head and wrapped her cloak around herself. She knew she looked striking in black and plus it made her that more invincible under a sheath of darkness and shadows. The last thing she carried with her was her sword, Ihegin, the sword she had won fighting Thakan, Mikaron’s oldest rival in the days when Thakan ruled the Northern Seas. It was a beautiful piece of work forged by the best metal-smiths in the business the Cantkis Clan of the Upper Commons. A pure black blade it was, engraved with silver etching and a pure silver hilt. It could be claimed as the most beautiful piece of metal in the universe and Thakan boasted of it himself before Mia had taken it after she slew him. Mia tucked the blade in the folds of her cloak and slipped out of the barn into the night.
Mia crept closely to the shadows without any hindrance as she followed a valet to the prince’s rooms. No one would know she was even there. The man stopped near the east wall and pounded hard with his fist on the door.
“Who is it?” a deep but young voice called from within.
“Parker, sir.”
“Well, Parker come back later, I’m busy.”
As Mia got closer she heard the high pitched laughter of a woman’s.
Well, the more the merrier I always say, Mia thought as she watched Parker drift back to where he came from.
Mia slipped to the door, slowly opening it as to not make any noise. More laughter and exclamations reached Mia’s ears as she quickly closed the door and crept towards the voices. She almost laughed at what she saw; it was too precious not to remember.
The prince and his lady, probably just a common wench, were too involved with each other, too much in the heat of the moment, that they did not see Mia standing there in the light. As to not announce her own coming, Mia shrinked back to the shadows. Then she crept up beside the bed and sent her dagger into the young woman’s neck letting her fall with a thud to the ground. The prince was speechless and horrified. His green eyes were wide with shock and his hands clutched at the blankets around him.
“Come on, get some clothes on.” Mia barked throwing a pair of breaches at him.
The prince quickly pulled them on and as if coming back to his senses, though no his better ones, rushed at Mia only to be made a fool. She looked down at him before she’d made her final move, her kill, and saw something of defiance in his eyes, as if he was saying, ‘go ahead kill me, see how much I care, go ahead do it, just do it.’ She liked that. Maybe having prisoners wasn’t so bad at all.
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COPYRIGHT NOTICE
© 2002 Kelly Allen |
STORYMANIA PUBLICATION DATE
September 2002 |
NUMBER OF TIMES TITLE VIEWED
1932
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