Ashes to Ashes | ✓

1 || Chains of Freedom

Nobles favored anyone willing to get their hands dirty. This was one of the first lessons ingrained in Felix's mind by his master.

As long as greed exists in this world, you will never run out of work, the old man used to reason. Despite that twinge of humor in his voice, the light never quite reached his eyes. Even as a child, this never came as a surprise to Felix. His hands were steeped in blood, stained until his pale skin might as well have turned crimson permanently.

Like him, Felix found that nothing filled his pockets the way that feuds between kingdoms, nobles, wealthy subjects, and desperate schemers did. Anyone could turn to spilling blood if pushed too far into a corner.

His boots clicked against the cobblestone as he came to a stop. A set of heavy double doors loomed over him, sandwiched between two guards who each spared him a nervous glance. On the outward side of each guard, the wall that guarded the castle of Furvus from intruders such as Felix himself stretched on for miles. From experience, he knew there would be similar outposts along the way; on the north, south, east, and west sides. Tilting his head back, he followed the length of the wall upwards.

If he came on different terms, he would have scaled that wall. It was one thing his master had always been much better at than him. Felix cringed at the memory of his palms scraping against rope and stone as he practiced, and of the hard ground that met his back when he ultimately failed. In order to avoid such a fate, he learned to take a different approach—one that involved the fascinating species that was people.

Pushing that thought aside, he faced the guards again. As he reached into his pocket, they both grabbed the hilts of their swords.

"A letter," he said before either one could stop him. The paper slid easily from his pocket, crinkling beneath his fingers as he held it up for the two to inspect. The midnight blue seal stamped firmly onto the thick parchment bore the symbol of the raven in flight—Furvus's royal seal. "I was summoned by the queen and her court."

The guard on the left side faltered, the sword's base slamming against the sheath. He exchanged a puzzled look with his companion.

Felix sighed and returned the paper to his pocket. "Well, you can ask her yourself if you don't believe me. She can't blame you. After all, what kind of guard lets a known assassin wander into the castle freely?"

The "known" part was an accident—the result of Felix's own arrogance during his first several missions. Even now, it left a bitter taste on his tongue to admit that his face was recognizable. The only reason he could run free in Furvus was because the nobles coveted his talents too much to cut them off. Now, even the queen had reached out to him with a job. He couldn't imagine why. He was the one who slit the throat of her husband, a tragedy that forced her to take the throne.

Or perhaps she wanted the throne, and it all worked out in her favor. That was the only thread of logic that could tie the pieces together in his mind.

Fitting for someone who was commissioning another to commit a murder.

Despite Felix's words, neither of the guards replied. Instead, they turned in haste to open the gates. A mechanism began to whirr from the inside, followed shortly by the slow, creaking opening of the massive double doors. The cobblestone road continued into the outer wall, leading the way through the courtyard toward the castle far in the distance. An inner wall wrapped the castle in a second layer of protection. A sigh built up behind Felix's clenched teeth.

If it weren't for his summons, he could arrive at the castle much quicker. He had done it once before, all that stopped him from doing it again was human decency–if it could even be called that.