-It permeates our world, a constant reminder of our impermanence upon this Earth. At least… it is for most people.
-He turned away from the cliff, drawing his coat about him against the cold wind.
-He is immortal. And sometimes… well just say he wishes he wasn’t. He sighs and walks away, the sun setting behind him over the autumn trees in the valley below.
-He looks over his shoulder at the grave he had been standing by. ‘Well,’ he thinks ruefully, ‘I shouldn’t complain. After all, I asked for this.’ He turns away grimly and walks down the path, his last tie to his old life, gone.
-He reaches the ledge overlooking the wreckage of what had been his birthplace. ‘All my fault, all for my own damned desire to live forever. My family, dead. My friends, dead. My heart… well, that’s dead too now.’
-‘I doubt now that one ever beat in my chest, how else could I have done this?’ He jumps over the small cliff and begins to walk toward the dead city. He walks past the wreckage of the church that once had told him that that was were his soul would be saved.
-It had been the first to burn. For what use could a church be for one without a soul? None at all. His eyes flash red in the light of the sun. ‘My flesh may be clean, but my existence is forever stained with blood.’
100 years later
-He watches as a cart rumbles past, wondering how these people still lived while death surrounds them. He shudders in pain as he feels his flesh begin to crawl and change. He focuses and stops the transformation, ‘I may be without heart or soul,’ he thinks grimly, ‘but human form, at least, I will keep. A beast in the flesh of man.’
-The, probably not so, innocent merchant disappears around a corner and he steps out onto the path and heads in the opposite direction. He soon arrives at his destination, slipping into the shadows of the wall as a guard passes above. When the guard is gone he quickly scales the wall and is soon at the top.
-He crouches in an alcove as a second guard passes, then flips over the other side and snags a ledge with practiced ease, making less noise than a breath of wind. He then braces himself and drops the fifty feet to the stone flagstones behind a tavern, his bones swiftly mending and he is soon ready once again.
-He leaps onto a roof and quickly begins to make his way to the citadel at the center of the city. He grins behind his mask. ‘Of all the occupations I have had,’ he chuckles inwardly, ‘being an assassin is by far the most fun.’
I really like this. I can't wait to see where you will take the narrative!
ReplyDelete-Gwen