My Little Assassin

E

EquinoxSol

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Original poster
"Sir...?" Thane asked, not quite sure what he had heard. It sounded like his master had said that he wanted him to take on an apprentice. "Sir, I can't do that. You remember what happened last time, don't you?" Last time had ended up with his apprentice falling from a tower further in the city and ending up on the ground. It had caused quite the commotion amongst the townsfolk, and the Assassin's Order had needed to bribe ridiculous amounts of civilians and guards to keep quiet about it, and Thane had lost a couple assassinations.

"You realize this'll end up just like last time, right?" he asked, frowning.

"Yes," said Henri, his master. "And you aren't getting another contract until you can prove to me that the boy is able to kill as well as you. He should be arriving soon."

Cursing, Thane turns from Henri, brushing back his darker-colored hair, a frown apparent on his face.
 
March put on his clothes and left, walking at a brisk place. The address they'd given him wasn't far from where he was at the moment, so it wouldn't take too long to get there. He was nervous, very nervous. Needless to say, March was starting to wonder if he should call it all off and run away. He couldn't though, he just couldn't. He had to follow through with it, no matter what happened.

He only hoped that he got a mentor that knew what he was doing. That got March to wondering what kind of people were in this Order. Naturally... A lot of them would be cold or heartless, right? Did that mean he had to be that way too? Of course, he'd have to toughen up. He didn't want his mentor getting tired of him and making him pack up and leave.

As March walked into the building, he looked around nervously. "Um... Hello?" he called out, straightening his shirt.
 
Hearing the sound of footsteps entering the building, Henri says, "Go. That's probably him." As Thane begins walking out of the room, Henri calls after him, "Try to let this one live longer than a week!" Grumbling about his situation, Thane strides into the main hall, which was empty today. Normally, it would be at least half-full with other assassins, either in between contracts or even other assassins with their apprentice. The emptiness was slightly unsettling, but Thane paid no attention to it.

Seeing the apprentice, Thane approached him, and stated, "You are the apprentice?" Without waiting for an answer, he brushes past him, intent on getting training over as soon as possible.

"Follow me," he states, going back outside. It was a decently nice day outside, and with any luck they would have enough sun to get a few hours of training in. "Better keep up, I won't hesitate to leave you behind." With that, not even bothering to learn the boy's name, he runs up the side of a large wall that the Assassin's Order backed up against, quickly getting atop one of the battlements, looking down at the boy. "Well?" he asked. "Come on."
 
As soon as he saw the other man, his first instinct was to hold out his hand and introduce himself. The other had different plans though, and instead walked right past him, giving him orders without waiting for a reply.

March followed him out, wanting to at least know his mentor's name, it would obviously have to wait for now. "I'm coming," he called up. March stared at the wall then, wondering how in the world he would get to the top. It wasn't going to be as easy as the man had made it look though, he was sure of that. He had to move quickly. Without further though, March stepped back and ran forward, dashing up the wall as far as he could go. Pushing up on his feet quickly, he managed to grip the top with his hands and haul himself up.

"You're really good at that," he said, smiling a little as he stood up.
 
As soon as it was apparent that the boy would get up fine, Thane took off, running along the broken and crumbling bits of the wall. It had once protected the city, way back when, but now it was simply a crumbling monument to what once was. Now, the city had nothing to protect itself, as if it had need to. Now, not even the cameras the city had put up to deter vandals and other ne'er do wells from further destroying it didn't even work. Where the wall suddenly cut off, simply ending, Thane jumped off, quickly determining that the manhole in the center of an empty street was opened. Positioning his body just so, he went into the hole, thankful that the entrance was in the older part of the city where the manholes were much larger than in the newer areas. A bonus was also that some of the tunnels beneath the city weren't even used as sewer tunnels anymore.

About thirty feet into the fall, Thane grabbed onto a protruding ledge, pulling himself up. If he had let himself fall all the way, he would have ended up in very dirty water. Looking up the hole, he waited for the boy to follow, if he would. If needed, he would catch the boy, not fancying going down there to get him.

This was all very necessary, in Thane's mind. In order to properly train an apprentice, he had to take them into the world of killing head on, see where his apprentice's breaking point was. Wall climbing seemed to come easy to him, so he decided to see how he was with heights and falling. And precision. If he wasn't precise in his aim and corrections, he would probably hurt himself.

Thane hadn't simply chosen this sewer entrance on a whim, either. In fact, it lead to an alley behind his own home, where it would be easier to train the boy. "Come on down, then," he called up, not sure if he could hear him or not.
 
His mentor took off again, quickly. March dashed after him, trying to follow closely enough that he wouldn't lose him. Damn, he's fast, he thought as he followed him. When he saw the man jump, March's heart stopped for a moment as questions raced through his head.

How far down was it? Where exactly did he jump to? Why did he jump?

March skidded to a stop, barely managing to stay atop the wall as it ended. "No way," he muttered, panting slightly from the dash. His mentor had disappeared, the only thing in the street was an opened manhole. Close enough that he could jump through if he jumped at just the right angle. But... Did his mentor seriously jump down there.

His answer came when the man called up to him. From the sound of it, he hadn't jumped TOO far down. Taking a deep breath, March stepped back a little. Letting out his breath, he ran forward again and jumped, praying that he'd jumped right and would make it.

"Oh god," he gasped as he went through the hole. March froze, not sure of what to do. So, stiff as a board, he kept falling.
 
Thane grinned, watching the boy come down. Seeing him, stiff as a board, most likely scared, he reaches out, catching onto his ankle, letting his body fall, looking down at him. "Lesson one," he stated, emotionless as he had been earlier, "don't tense up. You don't want to know what is at the bottom of this. Pulling him onto the ledge, he crawls through the nearby tunnel, glad that it wasn't used anymore. Still smelled like it, though, and he had to bring his collar up to cover his nose so he wouldn't throw up. Eventually, it widens enough to stand again, and he leads the boy to a ladder leading up to another manhole.

Climbing up it, he doesn't even check if he's being followed. At the top, he pushes the manhole open, emerging in a dead-end alley with a door at one end. Unlocking his door, he steps in, allowing the boy to follow him. "What do you know about weapons?" he asked as soon as they were both inside.
 
"Sorry," he murmured, slightly out of breath. Just thinking about what was at the bottom made him cringe. He was thankful that he'd been caught, finding out wasn't his priority. "Where are we going?" he asked as his mentor went into the tunnel. March didn't know his mentor well yet, but he knew he shouldn't really expect an answer.

As they crawled, March made a choking sound. The smell was terrible, he could hardly breathe. Holding in his breath, he followed the man quickly. Standing up again, he dared to take a breath. Fortunately, the manhole had been opened already, so March caught some fresh air. Climbing up, he followed his mentor into the house.

"Well... Not much," he admitted. "Just that guns should probably be used as afar and daggers should be used up-close, right?" March looked to his mentor.
 
"Right. But if you are in a close-up fight that you can't win, and you have a pistol or small gun, don't hesitate to use it to get the upper hand. We are assassins, not warriors or anything that garners any sort of honor. If it will give you the upper hand in a fight, use it, no matter how dirty it is," Thane said, walking further into his modest house.

Walking into a dining room, he said, "Help me move the furniture to the living room," and gestured to an adjoining room where he had sofas and chairs. No television, but rather many bookshelves, all of them filled with books. He preferred not to be forced to watch the fruits of his labor after they happened, feeling it narcissistic. Picking up a chair, he carries it to the living room, setting it down on the wood floor next to the sofa. "Don't scuff the floors," he called to his apprentice.
 
Right, March thought as his mentor explained, nodding. He grabbed another chair and lifted it, carrying it into the other room. He took a moment to look around, firstly noticing the absence of a television. He couldn't help but smile as he made a connection with this living room to that of the one he grew up in.

His dad had never kept a TV either and most of the rooms in the house had at least one bookshelf. March grew up on fine literature, like Shakespeare. It was never his favorite though, he preferred books like Battle Royale and books about cowboys. March wondered what books his mentor liked, he wanted to go inspect them, but instead went back into the kitchen for more furniture.

"So..." he began, looking at his mentor. "What's your name? My name's March."
 
"Thane," he said simply. It was only a name, nothing else, and he didn't honestly care what March called him. After moving the rest of the furniture, he stood in the now-empty dining room, and stated, "Second lesson today. I'm giving you one free shot at me. No weapons, simply your hands. We'll spar until either one of us gives in." He sighed, rolling his shoulders. He would try to see how much the boy knew, and work from there, hopefully getting through with him before the end of the week. And then, Thane could be left to his own devices.

"Go ahead," he said, standing still, his posture straight and unmoving.
 
He made a mental note of his name. March wasn't very good with names, so he didn't want to screw this up. He repeated the name over and over in his head until Thane told him that they would be sparring.

"Oh... Alright," March said, feeling uneasy. He knew for a fact that he'd give up first, Thane had who knows how many years of practice and this was only March's first day. He'd try his best though, he had to.

Taking a deep breath, March rolled his shoulders a little, bouncing slightly on the balls of his feet. After another second of thought, March spun a little, his leg going in a wide arc straight towards Thane's waist.
 
Thane let the kick hit him before letting a slight smirk come to his face. His hand flying out of his jacket's pocket, he grabbed March's ankle tightly, pulling him forwards before letting go of him and punching him solidly in the gut. Backing up a couple feet, he watches his handiwork. "Second lesson," he repeated, "don't kick first. Kicking is something to do after you've stunned an opponent with a good blow. You probably won't be fighting hand-to-hand often, but in the event that you do, you've got to know how to do it properly, got that?" With that, he rushed forwards again, catching March just under his chin.
 
March was thrown backward with a shocked expression on his face. He was more used to kicking than punching, at least, it's what would help him when school-yard-bullies came around. Of course, Thane made a good point. Kicking should be used as a second tactic. He was left no more time to ponder as he was hit again, making him fall on his back.

His head was spinning, but he regained composure quickly. He jumped to his feet, balling his hand into a fist, aiming a punch to Thane's cheek. His other arm and hand were ready to give an uppercut to his mentor's ribs, regardless of whether his first punch hit or not.
 
Reading March's motions, Thane had to make a split-second decision. Which blow should he allow to hit? Lose teeth or suffer a mild punch? he asked himself, quickly deciding. Punch it is. Dancing just barely backwards, saving his teeth from a blow, he took the punch to his ribs. It was harder than he had actually thought it would be, so he responded accordingly.

Ducking forwards, he aimed a punch towards March's sternum, knowing that if it landed it would probably stun him enough to let him get in a solid kick and have him on the ground in no time. The whole time, he could hardly keep the grin from his face, enjoying the adrenaline of a fight, even if it was a simple training one.
 
March's lips turned up into a slight grin as his uppercut hit. He felt triumphant, even though he was only punching his mentor during a training exercise. His victory was short lived as he felt his breath get knocked out of his lungs. Pain shot into his chest and he stumbled backwards, trying to regain his composure. March was too busy trying to catch his breath though.

He'd never expected a punch to his sternum, to be honest. He was used to getting punched in the face and the gut. He was glad to be learning new things though, so it was a different kind of victory.
 
Thane's grin only grew wider. In his apprentice's stunned state, he was able to send a kick aimed for the back of his knees, sending him to the floor. "You didn't immediately fall down when I punched you," observed Thane. "Good. Means you aren't completely incompetent." If March would try to sit back up, he would push him back down to the floor, straddling him shamelessly. Just training, he told himself, looking down at the boy. Placing his hands at both sides of March's head, he caged him in, and asked, "Give up yet? Or do you still have fight in you?" Prepared to retaliate should he try to fight back, Thane remained on top of him, waiting to see how he would try to get out of his hold.
 
"Good to hear," March said, laying on the ground. He wasn't sure what else to do. At least he could breathe now, but his back was hurting. Trying to sit up, he found himself being pushed back down as Thane straddled him. He looked up at the other man, pondering the question. If he said he was done, he might seem weak. If he said he wanted to keep fighting, he would probably end up really sore by the end of the day.

Well... He'd have to go with being sore. "Keep going," he replied, grinning a little. "I can keep going, I want to get in at least one more hit," March told him. He rocked to the side, pushing his mentor off.
 
"Very well," Thane said, and the fight continued. Rolling as he was pushed off of the boy, he quickly took a cat-like stance, before lashing out with a swift kick to his side. He wouldn't let the boy get in another hit if he could help it. Which he could. Straightening, he pulled the boy up by his collar, saying a quick, "Don't bite your tongue," and delivering a hard uppercut to his jaw before letting him go.

"Just tell me when you want to stop," he told him in a slightly sing-song voice. Backing up, he stretches one shoulder, knowing and feeling in how long it had been since he had fought like this. He was out of practice, and made a mental note to keep it up with the boy in the days to come.
 
That didn't work out well, March thought. Pain shot through his entire head as he was hit in the jaw. He coughed and fell backwards, feeling blood starting to well up in his mouth. He wasn't sure if he'd gotten a tooth knocked out or if he'd bit his lip, either way he could taste the saltiness of blood. March wiped it away, straightening up.

"One last try," he muttered under his breath. He swung his arm around again, as hard and as swift as he could. If it worked well, he would hit Thane in the ear with his forearm.