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 The Pledge

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The Cheshire Cat
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The Cheshire Cat

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Age : 21
Registration date : 2014-12-18

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PostSubject: The Pledge   The Pledge Icon_minitime4/6/2015, 12:25 pm

Let me just clear up one thing right off the bat;I do what I do so I don’t die. None of this would be happening if I didn’t value my life and the lives of others. That’s the thing about heroes I guess, they don’t always tell you that everyday doy have to wonder if you’re going to live through the day and night.
   So here I am I guess. Hands bound behind my back and a noose hung loosely around my neck as the executioner began to read my “crimes against the crown”. I didn’t even care about the Royals, whether they lived or died in the middle of night wouldn’t change a single thing about my work.
   Now that we’ve cleared that up, lets get back to the gallows in my own personal cell shall we?
   “I hereby order the hanging of Catarina Annamaria Santos for her crimes against the crown and the people of this faire city. Are there any last bequests from the accused?” the executioner asked, his bulbous gut giving a shake as he coughed.
   “I have three Mr.Fatthead,”I smirked at the portly man,” the first is that you give my non-apology to the Royals, to whom you all so blindly obey. My second is that my estate remain private and under my name.”
   “Very well Ms.Santos, as you wish,” the man said resting his hand on the lever to drop the falling floor.
   “One last thing. You really should have double checked my person,” I said giving him a final smirk.
   In the blink of an eye my hand bindings were cut and I threw my dagger at the fat man, pinning him to the wooden post and out of reach of the lever.
   “Now, Mr.Executioner, allow me to share with you the reason to my rhyme. Seeing as you clearly dont understand my work,” I stalked closer and grabbing one of my daggers that lay on the table with my other things.
   Fear passed over the old man’s face and a flash of hate passed over mine. An assassin was only as good as she wished to be, and I wished beyond compare. The silver of the blade glistened in the faint light of the cell. It’s handle, one of made corinthian leather and inlayed with more silver, felt cool yet heavy in my palm.
   “Who are you?” the fat man stammered out.
   “My name is Catarina Annamaria Santos, and I am THE assassin,” I said as I placed the sharp edge of the dagger to the man’s throat.
   With a swift, right side slash, the man slumped to the ground as I pulled  the other dagger from the the post that would have held him aloft. The smell of crimson blood filled my nostrils and I internally cringed. No matter how many times blood was spilt I could never fully get used to the smell. As the blood began to pool around the man I took the liberty of re-equipping myself and dressing into my Brotherhood robes.
   Assassins don’t dress in all black, lets clear that up right now as well. We are not ninjas so black is impractical and we don’t carry around giant swords, most of us don’t at least. Our robes, and by that I mean the Brotherhood’s, are meant to blend in slightly with the average person but stand out at the same time. A cream colored jacket, reaching mid thigh on my person, with a hood that dipped down to a point just above my nose made up the larger part of it all. Long sleeves tipped in black and crimson with matching red gloves kept my phantom blades hidden yet accessible.
   A tight black corset with red stitching and crimson skirt laid under the jacket and grey tights were under even that. The skirt, which reached just above the jacket, made it easier to move in. On my feet were chocolate brown boots, with an inch or so heel, that were a few inches short of my knees and a red piece of fabric kept the cream colored jacket closed. I tightened my cuffs, that held the phantom blades, under the long coat sleeves and tested them a few times with a flick of my wrist.
   “Well Mr.Executioner, I had a lovely time. I really should be going though,” I said as I sheathed my sword and gave a mock bow.
   The door flew open and in the doorway stood four fully armored guards who looked shocked that I was unharmed and the executioner lay dead on the floor. As they drew their swords I couldn’t help but laugh softly. My eyes did a quick scan of the room and I decided on a plan that would only risk minimal damage to me, a few sore muscles at worst. As quick as I could manage I grabbed my sword and ran at the soldiers. Just before my skin could make contact with their own weapons I slid down and skidded through the small space between the men, causing  some dust to fly and cause the end of my coat to flare out behind me.
   “Stop her!” one of the men yelled as I got up and ran out of the cell block.
   “Not yet skimpy!” I shouted back as I ran into the light and roads of the city.
   Ah yes, Ecclesia. The city of new beginnings. I ran out into the square of marble paved roads that seemed to be made of gold in the noonday sun. Without thinking I ran towards headquarters and passed by all the shops. Being set on a major sea, Ecclesia was a major hub for trade. With fresh fish coming in from the Cerulean Sea and being the largest supplier in SunStones we had it good here. As I passed by the bakery I slid to a halt and noticed Edward was working the stall today. Jumping over the counter I started rummaging through the baskets under the piece of wood.
   “Catarina?!” he said surprised then lowered his voice,”I thought I told you to stay away from the shop during the day, especially with you in uniform. The last thing we need is both of us getting caught for the Brotherhood’s actions.”
   With an eyeroll the size of the royal palace and all its royal flare, I grabbed some worker  clothes and ran to the back room to change. Discarding my robes I threw on a chocolate brown dress with a white apron. I rolled my long sleeves to my elbows and  quickly pulled my long light brown hair into a braid down my back, securing it with a crimson ribbon. What could I say, Red just looked nice with everything.
   Stepping out of the room I began to help Edward with the baking and mixing. The dough was easy to knead and very elastic thanks to Edward’s secret recipe. Using one of the long knives I made three long ribbons from my dough and began to braid them together before setting it aside and repeating the process. I watched the people pass by and froze for a half second when the guards stopped in front off the stall before going back to kneading and braiding the dough.
   As the guards looked for their assassin I tried to hide my smirk and put the bread in the oven as they ran off. With the bread in the oven I sat atop a clean counter and watched Edward using his strong arms to work the dough but becoming exceedingly gentle to make designs with it.
   “You take bread making way too seriously for someone who spends his nights killing,” I commented, watching him make one of his signature angels for the High Holidays.
   “If you're going to spend the coin then why not eat something that is appealing to both eye and tongue?” he said, measuring out more dough to make the wings.
   “It’s just food! More specifically, its just bread. I understand wanting ornate food for the High Holidays, but why everyday?” I asked ,getting off the counter and pulling my braids out of the oven, setting them aside to cool.
   Edward shrugged but continued his work never the less. He was the right hand man in our group, my right hand man more specifically. Being an assassin was one thing, trying to lead them was something completely different. Everyone was older than me, some quite considerably older, and didn’t want to listen and follow someone who was barely nineteen. There was no way in all of Ecclesia they would listen to me if not for Edward  and everyone knowing not to cross the either of us. Last time that happened I put someone in the infirmary for a month and we never heard from the boy Edward took care of.
   As the bread began to go through its change in the oven I hopped off the counter and went to pull them out of the oven right  before the golden brown started to turn darker and eventually black. The best thing about being both a baker and assassin was you began to develope a great set of eyes and were just as good with your hands. Swift movements with a knife could also be used to make some of the best designs and patterns in bread, everyone in the Brotherhood knew that for sure. Then again, with some of us having special gifts we could use them to our advantages most of the time. The only sad thing is we are shunned from society for our gifts but it is our gifts that keep society in check.
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