There were lots of glances and quite a few smiles and nods among the children. While a few like Jasira had a master in name, many of them would have to prove themselves before they would be taken as a direct disciple, and then the master would only take one. So even Kenosha and Jolly were interested in this offer, as Jasira was the likely choice for Master Shade. Not that Jolly was confident in his chance at winning, he was far from the fastest in the group. Even Faux, one of the slowest at the start, had passed him by. His strength wasn’t in speed, but rather his constant pervasive happiness was great at putting people at ease. Likely a master like Lavish would be a better fit for him. Either way, everyone lined up to give it their all in this race.

Faux felt the anticipation building inside him. Excitement was a feeling he hadn’t experienced in what felt like ages. It was like a tickle that ran the length of his entire body. This was exactly what he had been training for. Varduk was his ideal master and this win would be his.

The crack of a whip was the signal, and they were off. Faux shorter legs might be a disadvantage, but he was pumping them for all they were worth. Fortunately this wasn’t just a sprint, or he would have no chance whatsoever. Regardless of Varduk’s speech on the blitz, there were ten laps total and most of those that started too fast, would not have the endurance to keep that pace until the end. Shinroth was in the front from the start, his long smooth strides setting the pace for the rest of the class. He was already confident in his win. So when a small ball of fury flashed passed him, Shinroth couldn’t hide his surprise.

He was tempted to let that little bastard run ahead, he was confident that Faux couldn’t maintain that pace, but a little bit of worry wiggled into his heart. Faux had been improving at a rapid pace and Shinroth knew he couldn’t let him gain the advantage. Shinroth stepped it up, pushing harder as he moved to keep up with Faux. While the shorter boy pumped his legs furiously, he and Shinroth began to leave the others behind. Many even gave up any attempt to keep up with the two clear leaders, but the few that could maintain the pace, did so. Quickly several laps were down and Shinroth was breathing heavily.

They had been maintaining this monstrous pace much longer than he had expected. He and Faux had long since started lapping their fellow classmates. In a surprising move, Master Varduk had pulled everyone they lapped off the field. He grimaced as he felt his heart racing to keep up, a quick glance over his shoulder told him the closest competitors were half a lap behind. Only perhaps a third of the original racers were still in the competition. The others stood on the sidelines watching. Another lap down and Shinroth could feel his flagging endurance as he glanced over at Faux, he was breathing laboriously but Shinroth was no longer confident in his easy victory. He glanced over at Master Varduk and made his decision. He would not lose.

Faux felt like he was dying. His lungs burned, his muscles ached. He was truly putting his all into this race. He couldn’t take the time to look around, he was a boy of commitment and focus. He didn’t know who was behind or infront, he hadn’t even noticed the others removed from the course. He just kept running. One foot in front of the other he said to himself. It wasn’t until the screaming that he managed to come out of his trance. The others were on the sidelines, yelling. It was the final lap. If he had been paying attention, he would have realized there was only him and Shinroth still on the track, even though the other stragglers had finally called it quits. None could keep the exaggerated pace that the two were keeping.

The end was near and Faux wanted to dig deep to pull the last strength from deep within him, only to realize he had nothing left. Luckily it seemed like Shinroth was also struggling. This would come down to the wire. One foot in front of the other, he told himself, until there was another foot there. And Faux was falling. He slammed into the dirt, his arms almost too tired to even catch himself. The dirt bit into his cheek and he tasted blood. Faux looked up to watch Shinroth slowly jog across the finish line. Several students cheered and congratulated the boy. Faux saw the looks of pity from those like Jasira. He was so exhausted he had a hard time lifting himself from the dirt, so he just laid there.

For a moment he felt wetness in his eyes, but it wasn’t from sadness, it was anger. He reminded himself to smile as he stood up. He was bleeding from scrapes on his knees and elbows, but he didn’t pay attention as he made his way back to the group. Master Varduk had already declared the winner. Shinroth would be his direct disciple. They had all watched Shinroth trip Faux, but this was a school for assassins not priests. If Faux couldn’t overcome the trial, then he wasn’t worthy. That was the law of the wild. Faux could hear Shinroth’s boisterous laugh and it caused Faux to smile. Several surrounding Shinroth stepped aside as Faux walked up. Shinroth looked down at a smiling Faux and chuckled and held out his hand. “no hard feelings eh?”

The smile dropped from Shinroth’s face as Faux stepped forward and sank his shank into Shinroth’s stomach. “None whatsoever.” Faux whispered as he pulled his bloodied shank back to stab Shinroth once more. A hand grabbed his arm and pulled him back, a slap across his face sent him sprawling. He dropped his homemade shank that he always carried at his waistband. The blood coagulating in the dirt. “How dare you.” Spoke Master Varduk. The anger in his eyes was palpable. “Are you a fool?”

Master Varduk turned and looked at the others. “Class, what is the first rule of Assassins?” The class stood around looking shocked, but they answered in harmony. “we do not kill unless ordered.” Varduk turned his ire back to Faux “That, you little psychopath, is what separated assassins from murderers. Our code. Our rules. Which you have deemed to treat like trash.” The master walked over and picked up the bleeding Shinroth. “I’ll decide what to do with you later, class dismissed.” Varduk quickly walked out with Shinroth, headed in the direction of the healer. Several people looked at Faux, but even Jasira and Jolly wouldn’t look him in the eye. Everyone quickly shuffled out, with only Kenosha glancing at him over his shoulder, but only shook his head as he walked out. Faux continued to sit there, no thoughts or worries floated through his mind, only excitement. When the shank had sliced into Shinroth, he had felt power in that moment, and he wanted more.

Faux was still sitting there when Master Lavish walked out into the courtyard carrying two bowls of steaming stew. “Since you didn’t come see me as I asked, I decided to come join you.” Lavish handed over one of the bowls to a reluctant Faux. He took it tentatively before taking a bite of the delicious stew, not that Faux even noticed its savory umami flavor. Faux wanted to speak, but he couldn’t find the words. He had lost his chance to become Varduk’s disciple, and an old ache was back. A pain he had since filled into the back of his heart, the pain of loss. A second bite was on autopilot towards his lips when he saw something magical. Lavish waved his hand and a cushioned stool popped into existence. Lavish sat it on the ground and took a seat before blowing some steam from his own stew.

Faux sat there with his mouth hanging open, for a moment his mind had forgotten his pain. Lavish spooned a bite, and a smile crossed his face, he seemed oblivious to the child staring at him. “You know, I rarely take time out of my day for a one on one, and yet I feel that perhaps you need to hear a story. Seventy years ago there was an elf.” Lavish paused to take a bite, his eyes looking off into the distance. “He was a hundred and fifty cycles of age, but that was rather young for an elf. He was unlike other elves, who are peaceful and good natured folk. Angry, so angry with the world. The constant kindness drove him mad, and he lashed out. Then in his fear he fled. Not fear of punishment, but fear of forgiveness.

The gentle elves would surely forgive him for his act of depravity, but he could never forgive himself. He came to this small island fleeing on the first ship from port, Valeria, an uncultured city of uncouth humans. Being used to the finer things in life, living a long life of pampering, I might not have lasted the day. The docks were a rough place from the start, and I had been followed. I think I was more angry than shocked when they pulled a knife on my in that alley.” Lavish unbuttoned the top two buttons of his blouse and showed me the scar that went from his collarbone deeper into his shirt. “Then the pain. It was almost masked by the absolute absurdity that I would die in some dirty alley.”

Lavish sat there staring into the distance, his food going cold. His silence lasted so long Faux almost spoke up. “and then, like a whirlwind of darkness, a man came from the shadows and slaughtered those three thugs as easily as a child squashing a beetle. His name was Fang Te and he looked no different than any other human to me. He took me in, I was much too old to go through the training that you disciples go through, so he showed me the ropes on his own. He was much younger and fresher than me, but I had never known what theatrics were until I met him. He could be a noble, a merchant, an urchin, he could be anything he wanted and you would believe him.” Lavish’s eyes finally turned to Faux, looking him in the eye. “He could pretend to be your boss, your friend, your lover, he could literally become anyone.

It was his innate gift, a gift no others have ever known about, but there can be no secrets kept from lovers. But I digress. What I wanted to tell you, that you’re looking in the wrong place. You clearly hunger to be the best assassin, to be stronger, to be faster. But the best assassins aren’t weaklings like Varduk; they are people like Master Fang Te, the premier assassin on the island. A person who answers not to the council, but the grandmaster directly. A person who has never taken in a potential disciple in all his years. And now that he has, I can only assume that person also has Fang’s innate gift.” Lavish again gives Faux a knowing glance. “a gift that would be wasted on Shade’s disciple. Fang, doesn’t have the time for a disciple, but for an old friend, I could be willing to take his place.”

Lavish stood, and he waved his hand, causing the bowl and stool to disappear. “Fang is getting old and his strength is waning. His reputation won’t protect you completely. What you did today… come find me when you heal.” It wasn’t until Lavish had left that Faux realized he had never asked him how he had made the furniture appear and disappear. Now, for the first time Faux wondered if perhaps he hadn’t given Lavish the appreciation he deserved. There was a new noise and Faux looked up. Varduk and the students were all coming back from lunch it appeared, but a new Master walked with them. Varduk carried a small table, and bucket, he walked a step behind the other master.

The new master had skin so dark it was nearly black. Even his eyes appeared black, but his pearly white teeth gave him a sinister appearance, especially that smile. Shade spoke first as the others gathered around. “Today we will get a special lesson. One normally reserved for farther down the line, when you all take anatomy. Master Geiger has come to help us learn about the pain centers of the body since Faux has so generously volunteered by breaking the rules.” Master Geiger pulled out a leather roll and unfurled it on one of the small table. Inside was a collection of tools that could only belong to a devil, needles, blades, a syringe, and other tools that couldn’t be identified.

Master Gieger pulled out a long pointed needle. It was nearly as long as Faux’s forearm. Shade set the bucked down in front of Faux. “It’s for the vomit.” Were his gruff instructions before he stepped behind the boy. Geiger spoke for the first time; his voice was deep, from the depths of hell. “Our body is such an excruciatingly complex mechanism. It has taken years of research, but the nine pain centers of the body have been cataloged, though I do frequently hope to find a tenth. “ Those sinister white teeth again. “Well, Faux let us begin.” As Gieger stepped toward him, Faux stepped back. He stepped into Varduk, who grabbed him tight. For a moment, he almost though he heard a whispered “sorry” but that was probably his imagination. As Gieger got close, the setting sun glimmered off the tip of the needle that closed in on Faux. Then the screaming started.

……….

It had taken Faux several days to recover. That time had given him a long time to consider his next options. He had for a moment considered running, but there was still things he needed here, knowledge, power, training. He would be a boy on the streets again, and others would have the power to hurt him. No, he wanted to have the power those predators like Geiger offered. The power of the knowledge, and the ability to cause unending pain to those that crossed him. Faux knew he had to start with Lavish, the man was much deeper than a well, and Faux had only paid attention to the surface.

That was a power to, one that he had never truly worked on developing. His mother, Fang Te, had told him to keep it hidden, he had thought that meant to not use it, but after hearing Lavish’s story, he realized that wasn’t completely true. Changelings were feared and hated across all races, because people feared the unknown. And there was nothing more unknown than a person who could become anyone. He still ached, and phantom pain would occasionally shoot through his body. But he welcomed it. It was another memory of how the powerful ruled the weak. Until he could fight back and defend himself, then anyone could take advantage of him.

The healer had just cleared him with the cold indifference of a medic sending a soldier back to battle. There was no care here, this was not a warm and fuzzy prep school, it just had the façade of one. Faux made his way to Lavish’s classroom, the others would be doing their morning exercise with Shade, and Faux wished for a moment alone with Master Lavish. The elf sat there with a cup of kafiv, a dark bitter drink that needed loads of sugar or milk before Faux found it palatable. It was only allowed to the students on Syndays, but the faculty would have their own kafiv supply. “Faux, I wasn’t expecting you for another day or two.

Geiger must be losing his edge.” Faux didn’t bother with a response, but instead moved on to why he was here. “Master Lavish, would you take me as a disciple, would you teach this unworthy one your ways.” Lavish gave Faux a skeptical look. “while I doubt your sudden humility, I will take you on for a probationary period.” Lavish seemed to have a sudden thought. “Poor Loman will be distraught.” Lavish shrugged. “Such is life. As my personal disciple you will continue all of your normal class, but we will add a private lesson for after dinner.

I will give you one month to move to the top of my theatrics class. If you are not the best student I have, I will select another disciple. Am I clear.” Faux grimaced, but nodded. “Crystal, master.” Lavish just nodded, expecting nothing less. “Get to class, I’m sure the exercise will help loosen your muscles, they must still be sore from your punishment.” Faux nodded and turned to walk away. “Oh and Faux.” Faux stopped and turned back. “Try not to stab anyone else, I would be most displeased.” Faux gave a small nod and walked away. He was just glad his master only asked him to try.