The moment I stepped out of the room I moved slowly. My mind wasn't working properly. I moved through the halls. The mountain was silent and I didn't mind. It was good. Out of habit I moved in the direction of the team dorms.

A thought occured. What is a Daishin? I breathed slowly and finally entered our room. Griff, Sam and Sara were there and once they saw me, the blood covering me their friendly banter ended.

"Nine hells! What happened to you? Is that all your blood?" Griff came to my side. The girls followed close behind. I didn't answer. I walked to my bed and looked at the chest. Griff took my shoulder and my hand flew on its own. My fist connected to his face. For the first time since meeting him I made him step back. Fear grew on his face.

"What the hell man?!" I didn't answer. Sara tried next. "Ven we are here. Your team. What happened? How did your test go?" I didn't answer. It was Sam that realized something.

"Where is Tomiko? I haven't seen Varla." the moment she said that I turned on her and attacked. Sam deflected and Griff moved in. He bearhugged me. Lifted me from the ground. I kicked and bit. And tried to head butt. After a while my steam died down and I deflated.

"What is wrong with you man?" Griff held me tight and I breathed. "Thrass killed Tomiko." I admitted Varla was my daughter. Everyone was shocked but silent. Griff released me at the end. I calmed and went to clean up. The next morning the mountain was locked down as the bodies were found.

The Grand Master began investigating how it happened. I moved from my position in the Assembly hall and moved to the stage. Guards blocked me.

"I killed Thrass!" Chaos broke out. Everyone shouted and the guards secured me. I didn't fight and only waited. "Explain yourself Blade?" the Grandmaster stood before me. I refused to do so in public.

He took me away and guards followed. We went into the Grandmasters office and I explained what happened. The moment I finished he nodded and dismissed me. I moved and took the blades from the guards and cut them down. The Grandmaster didn't react. Only waited for me to finish and leave.

I graduated to Assassin at the death of Thrass. The death of Varla and Tomiko chilled me to the core. Focus consumed me and by the end of the year I became a Master. All missions opened to me. I chose my assignments as I saw fit.

At eighteen I was the youngest master. The next mission I took led me to Kalinasa. My mark, a man by the name of Torin Savin. Kalinasa was admittedly a lovely town. Everyone seemed happy, had a job and place to call their own. All a part of a community. Unfortunately for them, they were about to lose their leader.

I moved casually through the town, drawing up my hood to make my features as hidden as possible. The goal was to blend in. From there I planned to have a chat with one of Savin's guards to take his place and act as though I belonged among his men. Bidding my time I will wait till I could slip a poison into his food or drink, to kill him without a fuss or an investigation.

This would take a little time, but I want it all to be perfect. I had all the time in the world. If I needed to wait, then I will wait. As I walked through town I came across a crier telling the news. The criers voice was music to my ears. He cried about positions open for the city guard. Maybe this will go faster than I thought.

Swiftly i made my way to the crier. "Where are the guard sign ups to be held?" My voice was gruff from lack of use. Being at the mountain gave me little reason to speak. The crier, a boy no older than twelve years of age, looked at me. "They will be at the training field. Located at the northeast gate by the stables." I nodded and gave him a copper for his trouble.

The boy beamed and continued through town. I turned away and sprinted through crowded streets in search of the gate the boy spoke of. As the Northeast gate loomed overhead, the sounds of combat reached my ears. It wasn't the sounds of steel i was used to. It sounded dull and hollow. Wood maybe?

The training field came into view and the grounds were filled with armored and unarmored men alike. In the center of the fields seemed to be two combatants giving a demonstration. Their blows rang in the air with the clacks of wood on wood. In only a few moments one disarmed the other and the bout came to a close The two bowed to applause and melded in with the armored men that stood watching.

A large man stepped from the crowd. He was bald headed and straight backed. His shoulders were wide and body filled with muscle. The way he walked was as a cat ready to pounce. His steps light and sure. "As you just saw, a bout can turn from an even fight to a loss in seconds. Always remember that. It isn't about who is stronger, or who had the most skill. It is whoever loses focus first loses.

Remember that. Now I know many of you have never held a sword." The man walked the line and looked at the hopefuls. As he passed by me his eyes seemed to linger. I stood my ground and kept watch. No reason to think too deeply on anything just yet after all. The armored men separated from the crowd and formed groups for their own practice.

The bald man separated the hopefuls into groups as well. I was placed with a few men decades my senior and watched as they struggled to properly hold the wooden practice sword that was now being passed out. Should I pretend to be like them or show myself different? It was the dilemma I faced.

As the sword made their way to me I decided to be the middle. I held the sword in a firm grip and waited for instructions. "Now in your groups, partner up and practice basic strikes and blocks. That will be all. No showing off." Shuffling and murmurs rose as we split to pairs. As practice began, I held back and used blows that would have had Thrass beat me for the embarrassment. But I did it. It was difficult to pretend. The man I was partnered with tried to be professional.

He tried to show he wasn't an old man without any skill. After only ten minutes his breathing grew labored. Sweat ran from his brow. His swings grew more sluggish and proved how wrong he was to push himself so hard. On the other hand, not a single drop of sweat formed on my brow. The bald commander walked our way and I continued to deflect my partners blows.

After a few more bouts, the commander stopped us and had us running laps. In no time a week was passing by. Many of the hopefuls, my partner included, dropped out or were sent home. Today we were told that to completely pass into the ranks of city guard, there will be practice bouts with the current roster. Nobody was expected to win.

It was merely to show if we had what it takes to join them. The test was built much like a tournament. Each round of bouts faced a new with a veteran. Usually the vet would win. On a few occasions a new person would win. My mind wandered during these fights and it usually coalesced around who I would be if this was the training I was used to.

In the middle of my thinking I heard my name called two times. Snapping from my haze I answered. Of course I did not use my real name, though I did go by something similar. Vel. It was close enough that I would not forget it. But looking offhand I would not be remembered. As I took position across from the armored giant before me, a man standing 6'2 in size and over three-hundred pounds of muscle, I tested my swords grip and took a ready stance.

The fight began with the shout of the commander and ended in the pained groan of the guardsman. With three quick, successive strikes to the head, shoulder and ribs of my opponent I claimed victory in my fight. As a medic checked on the fallen man I made my way off the field. By the end of the day I was undefeated in six bouts with only one remaining.

My final fight would be against the guardsman champion. Taking place in the field I measured my opponent. The man stood only slightly shorter than myself. He was thin but not frail. Armor obscured any defining features. A helmet covered his face with a visor and looked about as comfortable as a pot sitting on your head.

Both drew our weapons and stood at the ready. The signal was given and the fight began. Strikes were traded back and forth. Both of us were probing the other. Each strike a faint or a weak try. Once both were sure of the others strength we advanced for real. We stood in the center of the field and eyed each other. This would be a battle of focus.

Over in a single strike. Time drew on, restlessness began to eat away at my nerves. I wanted to strike. My mind forgot about holding back. In three quick steps I advanced and made my move. His sword struck out in slow motion, my body already moving to avoid his strike and give a blow of my own.

Just as my sword was going to hit the armor on her chest..... Her? My mind raced as it tried to find how I had missed that detail. My focus was shattered and her sword crashed down onto my shoulder as my own smashed into her chest. The hits were simultaneous.

Feeling left my hand and my sword dropped to the ground. I turned to look at my opponent, who was currently coughing and having trouble to breath. She removed her helmet and long, purple hair fell down her back. She turned to look at me with golden eyes.

"You are a woman?"