Avren came into the chamber that he and Wiccer shared. He found his brother drying his hair wearing nothing but a towel around his waist. Wiccer stared at him, shaking his head, but quickly went back to his book once Avren caught a glimpse of his disapproving gaze.

“Another night with that Rabbit? The men are starting to question your judgment,” he said without looking up from his book.

Avren threw the wet towel he was drying his hair with at Wiccer, “She’s got a lot of useful information for us. We’re learning far more about the infrastructure of that clan than we ever could have hoped to before.”

Wiccer ducked the towel, “Has she disclosed the location of the Rabbit hideout yet?”

“Well, no,” he admitted, “I’m still working on that…”

Wiccer balled up the towel to throw it back, “And no doubt your girlfriend told you who the Silent Master was?”

“She doesn’t know their identity and she’s not my girlfriend. We just have an intimate…” Avren paused while thinking of the right word, “…business relationship. Right now I’m still trying to convince her that the White Cloaks aren’t mercenaries.”

Wiccer gawked at the thought, “Mercenaries? Far from it! We are paid for our protection, not for our ability to put others to the sword. These filthy rabbits on the other hand…” Wiccer spat in disgust, “They are the mercenaries! Not us!”

Avren pulled up a pair of trousers, nodding to everything his brother shouted, “I agree little brother. Elisa has just been indoctrinated by this bunny cult. Give her time and she’ll come around to our way of thinking.” Picking up a letter from the neighboring dresser, Avren spun the envelope to his brother, “A letter from Pops arrived.”

It had been a year since the White Cloaks put a stop to the Black Rabbits’ attempts at sabotaging the city. King Jaelyn ordered that a guild hall be established within Lost Dawns walls and Avren had been selected to lead the newly established division.

Wiccer jumped from his bunk tossing his book onto a nearby desk. He snatched the letter in mid flight with curiosity and quickly tore it open to read the parchment inside.

“Congratulations little brother,” Avren smiled.

Wiccer hooted with excitement, “I’ve been promoted to Sergeant! How long have you known about this?”

“Pops wrote to me a week ago asking if you were ready for the responsibility.” Avren had been promoted to Captain himself after successfully protecting Lost Dawns and establishing a base in the city.

“And you kept this a secret from me?” Wiccer said, crossing his arms and arching an eyebrow.

Avren laughed a bit, “I have a mission for you, Sergeant.”

Wiccer’s chest rose with pride, “What do you have for me, Captain?”

You’ll be taking a squad of Cloaks to escort Duke Cray’s carriage back to his manor. He was here for an opera last night. Although we haven’t heard a peep of Rabbit activity in Lost Dawns in a while, Elisa assures me it’s only because they have been preoccupied training their new recruits. This mission should be safe enough, but be prepared to run into them. The carriage leaves in the morning. Be safe, little brother.”

***

Avalon was a young human in her mid twenties which made her only slightly younger than Legion. A black mask veiled her upper features save for her cool green eyes, and a silver hood and cloak accented the mask. A crude scar ran diagonally below her left ear reaching to the edge of her mouth – a loving gift from her Blade Sister, Vada. She gripped her lightly crafted sword that was sheathed behind her waist, “Be on your guard, our target approaches.”

The three Rabbits: Avalon, Legion, and Elucard were concealed within the branches of a tree that still had much foliage left to shed. The autumn leaves were turning a vivid red, bright as the sunset that broke through the dusk. The road snaked along a rocky ravine where a small stream flowed.

Avalon placed her hand on Elucard’s shoulder, “Calm your nerves. You have been on missions before, and this will be no different.” It was true, Elucard had completed several missions. All successful. He had been sent on them alone, with a team, and by Legion’s side; however none had been done alongside the High Blade. Elucard took a deep breath, trying to rest the thoughts that plagued his mind.

Will I impress Avalon? What if I fail? I can’t screw this up!

The clopping of hoofsteps making their way down the road cut through the silent morning air.

Avalon whispered so low only trained ears could pick up the wispy sounds, “I see three Cloaks on horseback leading the carriage, and two in the rear with their commanding officer; just a Sergeant by the looks of him. Elucard, he looks about your age.”

“Elucard, you can handle the rear. I’ll take the vanguard,” Legion said, pointing at the three White Cloaks in front of the carriage.

“That leaves me with the mark,” Avalon drew her blade waiting for the carriage to go under the large branch where the three were perched, “May Alanna grant us grace.”

Elucard watched as his Master and High Blade dropped effortlessly from their hiding spot. Legion landed without a sound on top of the middle guard, driving his long sword in between the shoulder blades of his victim. Before the adjacent guards could cry for help, Legion launched twin daggers from either side of him into their throats.

Elucard watched in complete awe at his master, but shook his head to concentrate on the task at hand. Somersaulting and twisting into a flying drop kick, Elucard connected with a rear guard’s jaw. The loud crack rocked him off his horse and onto the dirt path. He gracefully sent several daggers soaring into the neck and face of the second guard, who screamed in pain.

Wiccer’s eyes widened in horror and panic. His mission was going to hell right before his eyes. He drew his blade and called for the carriage driver to make a break for it. With the snap of a whip, the carriage took off in a mad dash with Avalon clinging tightly to its roof.

Wiccer turned his attention toward the young Elucard. Storming forward with his horse, he attempted to make a sweeping slash at him, but the assassin was too agile. Elucard sidestepped the attack, grabbed Wiccer’s outstretched sword arm, and yanked him off his horse. The Cloak fell to the ground with a loud thud.

Slightly dazed, Wiccer scrambled to get to his feet and raised his sword in a defensive stance. Elucard slowly began to circle him. Wiccer stood firm, watching Elucard’s steps, waiting for the assassin to make his move, “Draw your blade Rabbit,” he growled.

Elucard scanned his surroundings, seeing Legion chasing after the carriage, “I fear I must make this quick. Forgive me, kid.” Elucard slid his blade out, flipping its grip as he rushed headlong toward Wiccer, slicing through the air. He expected to feel his blade tear through flesh as he brought it down on Wiccer, but was instead met with the hard clanking of steel meeting steel. Sparks flew each time the warriors exchanged glancing strikes.

Elucard flipped over Wiccer, switching up tactics and connecting with a roundhouse kick to his foe’s head. Wiccer stumbled, his vision momentarily blurred as he dug his sword into the dirt to stabilize himself. Elucard followed through with a flourish of kicks, backing Wiccer further to the edge of the deep ravine.

Elucard smirked as he let loose a savage straight kick at Wiccer’s chest. Replying with a smirk of his own, Wiccer dodged with a sidestep and made for a slashing attack. Elucard was quick to avoid the strike, but lost footing and tumbled down the jagged hillside. Elucard heard a brutish ‘crack’ of a bone in his arm as he landed on the hard stones. Skidding to a stop and into the shallow waters of the river, Elucard laid unmoving from intense pain. His hand shook as it strained to reach for his sword that was resting on a nearby rock.

Still inching with his good arm, the blade was suddenly kicked away as a different sword slapped the side of his face, “What is your name, Rabbit?”

Elucard grimaced from the sharp pain jolting down his fractured arm, “I did – I didn’t think White Cloaks would come so young.”

“Nor did I know murderers would come so young,” spat Wiccer.

“I’m not a murderer. I’m a tool. We work outside the law to bring balance to the world.” Elucard took pride in his words, but he struggled to get them out.

Wiccer lifted Elucard upright, by his collar, “You would have the world burn!”

“If the world were to become overgrown, it would smother itself until its own destruction. So yes, to save the world, I would burn it!” Elucard sweat as he managed to smile despite the overwhelming discomfort.

Wiccer shook his head in disbelief. He raised his sword preparing to thrust into the would-be assassin. Elucard’s face turned serious as he looked with pity at Wiccer, “You’ll always remember your first kill.”

Wiccer clenched his teeth and tightened his now sweaty grip on his sword, “I’ve killed plenty!” he lied.

Elucard eased his voice, “No, I don’t think you have.”

Wiccer thrust the blade forward, but stopped just short of Elucard’s stomach. Frustrated, he threw Elucard to the ground. Elucard grunted, gingerly rolling to avoid further injuring his arm. Wiccer stepped away from him, “Do not think me sparing your life is a sign of weakness. What is your name, Rabbit? Give it to me, I deserve to know.”

“Aye, you’ve beat me. My name is Elucard Freewind of the Black Rabbit Clan. Allow me yours, so that I know who bested me.”

Wiccer sheathed his blade and grinned from the compliment, “Sergeant Wiccer Newsun, Son of Marcus Newsun of the Guard of the White Cloaks. Know this Elucard, the next we meet, you will not be spared.”

Elucard nodded before passing out.

***

The carriage careened down the path as Avalon held on for dear life. Struggling from the wind, she made a daring play and swung herself through the door of the carriage, landing inside. A startled elf with red rusted hair and a goatee to match gasped, startled from Avalon’s appearance. In his lap was a small elven girl, no older than a toddler.

Avalon brought her blade’s tip to the neck of the duke. Cray Redroot sobbed at the sight of the sword, “Please madame, if you must kill me, spare my daughter. Her mother would be devastated if she were to lose me and our little Bess on the same morning.”

“Call for your man to stop the carriage,” commanded Avalon.

With the carriage stopped, Avalon took a hard look at the saddened little girl and clenched her teeth. In the past she had killed many men, many women, and even needed to kill a child or two, but each death chipped away at her weary soul. She was tired of this lifestyle, tired of the needless bloodshed. Her soul longed for redemption, but as High Blade of the Black Rabbit clan, such a wish would never be granted.

“Please, spare my child,” the pleas echoed over and over again in Avalon’s head. It was as though she was caught in a shallow trance, half listening to the duke and half listening to her own thoughts. Avalon’s blade fell to her side as Legion entered the carriage.

“What are you doing?” Legion’s voice pierced through Avalon’s heavy-hearted mindset. She sheathed her blade and stepped out of the carriage. Passing Legion she spoke softly, “Kill the mark, spare the child.”

Legion coldly answered back, hiding his suspicions, “Yes, my High Blade.”

A child’s cry cut through the autumn’s morning, a cry that would haunt Avalon for eternity.