The two remaining boys take one look at their fallen companion and then fearfully glance at Meera’s raised knife. Immediately, they run for it.

“Damnit! 83! 92! Come back!” The injured kid on the ground cries out, his sweaty black bangs sticking to his forehead as he clutches his leg. Despite the pain, which would incapacitate most adults in my old world, let alone a kid, he grits his teeth and gives us a smile. Pointing at the badge on his chest, he chuckles, “I’m 93. Lower than you two. Looks like you guys are out of luck.” Confidently, he sits on the ground and begins to holler, “Healer! I quit! Somebody get me a-! ARRRGH!”

*Thwup*

Abruptly, Meera steps forwards and rips her knife out of his thigh.

*Splurt*

There’s a big gout of blood in which suddenly the kid’s resilience disappears-

“What the hell! That hurt! I could bleed out!” He groans as his life pours out through the gaping hole in his thigh. I see bright pink exposed muscle in-between the edges of the wound, and sigh. “If I die, you’ll be disqualified!” Meera just laughs at that.

“You’re not going to die, Silly.” She stomps on his ankles and this time he cant hold back a scream. Meera’s smile stretches wider while I pointedly look away. Is this really necessary? “Elina can heal you even if you’re within an inch of death. But you’re acting way too big for someone with such a low ranking. What if I just cripple you? Mess you up so bad that you can’t walk, even after being healed? Would you still talk big after that?” Her taunting voice slips down into a whisper I can barely hear, “In the old days…only one person survived the trials. That was what it took to become the head of the Rainstoppers. Now even trash like you can come to play. Disgusting…I should just…”

“N-No! NO! NO! Stop! Killing’s not allowed!” The poor boy cries out in terror, the look on Meera’s face is positively evil, and coming from me, that means something…

“Is this really necessary?” I don’t care one way or another about the kid who just tried to take me out, but as someone from a “civilized” world, it still bothers me just the teensiest bit. Glancing up at the rock formations, I study the area. “We’re in the open here. Let’s go already. You got your knife back.”

“Mmm?” Meera glances at me from the corner of her eyes. They’ve turned into slits. “I just saved your butt and now you want to tell me what to do? Is that how you thank me?” She spins two knives in her hands, one bloody, one clean. Pointing them downwards to the kid’s legs, I hear her whisper to him. “Should I do it? Take a leg for good? Do you know the trick to making sure a wound can’t be healed? I’ve always wondered what it would take. Want to find out?”

“NOOOOOO! Please, Man! She’s crazy! You got to help meeee!”

“He’s not going to help you. No one’s going to help you. Go on, I’ll let you pick which leg you want to keep. Do you like your left? Or maybe you’re left-handed so you’d prefer to keep your right…” The sadistic torture continues and even I’m starting to get a little perturbed. Christ, this girl would have been great in the CIA. She’s channeling the spirit of Romy! When the boy does nothing but whimper, I finally hear a disappointed sigh. “If you can’t decide, I suppose I’ll do it for you. I choose…LEFT-!”

*Bang*

“The hell do you think you’re doing, Meera!” Suddenly, there’s an explosion of dust. My eyes widen as I view everything that’s going to happen in the future. Immediately, I resolve to do nothing. Now she’s done it. As the dust settles a newcomer is revealed, holding both of Meera’s skinny wrists. Wearing a strange Rainstopper mask, I have to think a bit before I realize what animal it is. An opossum? Sharp little teeth and a stubby snout with weird furry whiskers coming out of the sides, this one has quite a fierce appearance. The owner is even stranger. Carrying no weapons, and wearing a black cloak which covers just about everything, there’s something wrong with the way she moves. As if the joints aren’t connected in the right places. It gives me the heebie-jeebies, as if I’m looking at a marionette on strings or something. Behind the mask, the voice is almost a hiss and I realize I recognize it. “The Secthead has explicitly decreed no killing in the trials!”

“Elina!” Meera ceases to struggle, her arms going limp in the healer’s hands. “I wasn’t going to kill him! But he was disrespecting the Sect!” At this, I see the black-cloaked hands tighten. Even Elina’s fingers are covered in black leather gloves, as if she has an allergy to sunlight or something. On the ground, the boy’s whimpering ceases as he faints dead away. Some assassin candidate. Well actually, considering how much blood is on the ground, that might be expected.

“Tsk…the Secthead also explicitly mentioned that the trials should be a more inclusive and friendly affair.” Shaking her head, Elina lets go of Meera and goes to the boy. Soon, her hands are glowing around her legs and I hear quiet chanting. A spell I don’t recognize, but I assume it’s one of the healing ones. The bleeding abruptly stops, and I watch with fascination as the flesh begins to join together before my eyes. It doesn’t take long at all. When she’s done, the possum mask turns up at us and I feel like she’s frowning through the eye slits. “Go on then. But you better watch yourselves. I’ll be keeping a closer eye on things. So don’t even think about trying that again! The Sect is trying to make friends, not enemies! Do you want the whole world to turn against us?”

“Heh, what would you know about enemies. Always protected by the Secthead…Elina the Healer…my master says that with you two around, the Rainstopper Sect won’t last much longer!“ Meera’s voice loses its hesitation. Bitterly, she yells at Elina but receives no response. “How well did mercy serve my father? How well did taking prisoners go? Do you care more about our enemies than us? We followed your orders and now…now I’m…alone…”

“…” The possum mask does not respond. Quietly, it turns away. The unconscious boy on the ground is scooped up. And then both disappear with a slight gust of wind. All that’s left are footprints and a crimson stain in the dusty earth. Scratching my head, I try to understand exactly what just happened. Should I say something? The heck was that about?

“Was it wise to piss off the healer?” I ask. At this, Meera snorts. With an angry harrumph, she sheathes her knives and turns away. Knowing the signs of an angry girl when I see them, I prod deeper. “What happened to your father?”

“Peh.” Spitting on the ground, she jumps up onto ledge and starts to climb back up the rock formations. “The Secthead killed him.”

Romy killed someone from the Sect?

“Really?” I’m not entirely sure I believe her. “That doesn’t sound like her…”

“You think just because you were coddled, that the Secthead is all good and holy?” Meera’s dark laugh is way too bitter for someone her age. “Her rules killed my father just as surely as if she had been holding the blade.” I follow her up the rock formation, no longer thinking about the trials, but curious to learn about Romy’s past. Sensing my curiosity, surprisingly, Meera doesn’t hold back. As if she wants to get it off her chest. “Our glorious Secthead insisted that the Rainstopper Sect begin to take prisoners who surrender. My father listened. He believed in her ideals. Thought that she really cared about us. But when those ungrateful bastards saw a chance to escape, they didn’t hesitate to stab him in the back. Imagine that. A Rainstopper Assassin stabbed in the back.” The acrid harsh loneliness in her voice is both bitter and sad. “If we had just stuck to the old ways, none of this would have happened. My father would still be alive and…and…”

“…”

Romy…you really had to deal with some things, huh?

Unable to decide whether or not I support my auntie’s decisions, I keep quiet.

“Sometimes I wonder…are we even assassins anymore? My master doesn’t think so.”

“Mmm…” This time, my attempt to avoid the discussion I started is discovered.

“You don’t get it, do you. Of course, you wouldn’t.” Meera turns and I can see a slight tear in her eyes. When she opens her mouth, it sounds like a gasp for air, maybe even a cry for help. Her chipped canine makes her look just a little bit endearing. Even a cold bastard like me wants to protect her, just a bit. “Whatever. It’s not like it matters. You have your reasons, I have mine. Let’s just survive these trials.”

“Sure.”