tagSci-Fi & FantasyThe Assassin

The Assassin


Author's Note

I would like to admit that Elanna is based off the character Ezio in Assassin's Creed 2, I'm a big fan of both the original and the second, and her creation came out of a written Role-Play with a close friend. Her clothing is basically Ezio's, so if you look up "Ezio" in images on the net, that would go a long ways into knowing what Elanna looks like attire-wise. She also has the same weapons and abilities; if a bit more powerful because of her demon blood.

Which is why Elanna has a slim and somewhat lanky appearance, she's not overly curvy or busty, but still attractive nonetheless. For my own amusement, her song is Lonely Soul by UNKLE.

Now please enjoy the first chapter. This world is set in 'medieval' fantasy with magic and all the things you'd expect with said genre.


Elanna had reached the merchant city - Mizad - a day ago, and had spent a good amount of that time simply enjoying the place. By enjoying - for her - that meant hustling some merchants out of their money and winning some bar fights. Never being obvious as the one who started them, and being so subtle that when she ended the fight, she got rewarded for "bringing the peace" - so delightfully easy. She smirked to herself from her corner seat, settled in a shady tavern as girls danced on a small stage in the far corner. Some were playing instruments, and their costumes were beautiful; colorful with plunging necklines and slit up the sides. Elfin women were quite the wonder.

She caught the eye of one, and a smirk curled her lips as the young elf tensed briefly. She was scared; but managed to snap herself out of it, continuing with her dance like the rest of those on the stage.

Elanna felt a low, purring growl thrum deep in her chest; her lips curled into a predatory grin like a panther that had scented the blood of an injured doe.


Mirali had good reason to be afraid. She felt herself lucky to be alive; she was thankful the hybrid next to her had fallen asleep. The pale assassin was a half-breed, demon blood ran through her veins and it had been obvious soon into their 'passions' when Elanna's eyes were glowing blood red.

The blonde elf peered down on the sleeping half-blood, narrowing her eyes and curling her delicate fingers into the bed sheets. If she had realized before what the pale woman was she would have never allowed it; certainly Elanna would've been killed on sight. Demon's were scum, they were hated profusely in every land.

Pale skin and a slim frame make for a somewhat lanky appearance due to her height; several thin scars marked her body. The first went from her left shoulder, over her back down to her right hip. The second was just across her left forearm. The third was puncture scar on her upper abdomen. The fourth was a thin cut over her right eye that curved down over her cheek and ended at her jaw. Her face was slender, and would be quite pleasant to look at if it wasn't so cold. Eyes of ice blue were hidden beneath her closed eyelids, and her shoulder length hair was strewn about in silken, blue-black tresses.

Mirali scowled deeply and took her chance, she slipped out of the bed and got dressed silently. Reaching down she picked up the money pouch from Elanna's discarded belt.

Whilst undressing the half demon she had noticed a flash of metal every now and then. Blades most likely. Mirali narrowed her gaze and reached down, curling her fingers around the handle of one such dagger, pulling it out soundlessly from its well maintained sheath. 'Demons don't deserve to live...' she thought with malice.

She blinked as she felt something rustle in her hair. Reaching up, her fingers brushed over the item threaded into her blond tresses and pulled it out. She was confused as she saw it; it was a white feather.

Mirali shivered in fear as she felt cool breath wash over her neck.

"Always so quick to judge..." the voice was somber, a deep set tone of pain lacing itself over every syllable. Then she felt it, a slender, straight blade sliding into her lower back just as an alabaster arm wrapped itself tightly around her shoulders.

Elanna bowed her head, pressing her lips to the dying elf's neck. She finally went limp in her arms and she let go, stepping over the body to dress.


Things seemed to be going unusually slow lately. No one had approached her for her services in the last few weeks; it was making Elanna restless. She usually didn't do stupid things like that; what was she really expecting? That whatever helpless little sheep she decided to prey on would take pity on such a loveless creature as she? Some tiny voice at the back of her mind cried out and sobbed for mercy.

To be despised and hated by all the world was no desirable fate...

Elanna wrinkled her nose in disgust; such petty creatures surrounded her. They all looked upon her as a monster as soon as they realized what she was. Ironic that she moved among them like a part of the crowd yet felt so utterly removed from their mix of societies; walking down the city street on a busy market day.

If only these every day people knew what "beast" was walking by them.

She could probably kill every last one of them once the taste of blood reached her lips.

Then the sound of distress reached her ears, normally such things were beneath her; she wasn't a hero of any kind. There was no sense of chivalry, or nobility that tried to shine through. She was callous and savage through and through. But maybe that was the world's fault, for pressing such a terrible outlook on her since the day she was born. Monster. Brute. Savage. Worthless. Untrustworthy. Heartless. Demon.

Elanna frowned and stopped in the middle of the street, her sensitive hearing telling her that the troubled woman was down a tiny alley way off the right side. She turned and gently brushed by people until she came to the entrance.

The alley was dark and damp, last nights heavy rain leaving it smelling moldy. Above the noise of market goers and merchants, no one could hear the "damsel in distress". Elanna moved through the narrow alley, and came to a corner. Poking her head around she saw two noblemen trying to haul away a struggling young woman.

She was a delicate looking thing, her dark red tresses swinging about as she tried to get free. She reminded the half-demon of a well crafted doll, innocent beauty.

Elanna narrowed her eyes, contemplating if she should save her or not. It was an extremely rare occurrence for her to do anything 'good' - because it got her nothing but a death threat in return.

"Let go of me!" the girl shrieked.

The two men looked up as they heard the splash of a boot thudding into a puddle. But neither had time to react as Elanna slammed the palm of her hands into their necks. Her hidden blades slide out and stabbed into their throats, instantly slicing open the jugular. They fell back, blood spilling down and spraying erratically between the ebbing pumps of their hearts.

The girl fell down as they let go of her, her momentum from struggling the cause; she quickly looked up, her blue eyes locking with Elanna's red ones as the assassin stared down at her from the darkness of her hood.

Elanna was silent, and didn't move a muscle, her bloodied blades slide back as the mechanism reset with the twitch of a finger. She was waiting for the other to react. Would she be like the rest, or would she actually be thankful?

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