• Aidan, a man of twenty years, swooped into the safe house through the uppermost window, which he had left open just for this occasion. The nation was falling apart... The entire royal family, murdered, and by his hand. His dark green eyes seemed to glow on this dark night, only to be seen by the light provided to others by the crescent moon that hung in the night sky. Not a cloud in sight of this sky though. He felt a breeze, and shuddered; it was quite cold tonight. His auburn hair blew across his face, but he pushed it away with his own hand. His hair went down to his neck, his bangs in spikes going down, and was straight, not curly, nor spiky. Only five hours ago he had been covered in blood, and discovered by the knights of the castle. He knew his master knew as he had seen numerous other assassins descending upon the town, looking for he, Aidan who had hid in the clock tower.

    Aidan wondered when his master... And lover would be here. Aidan knew his death was swiftly coming upon him. Sighing, he threw the black cloak he had worn to cover himself this night, the night to be remembered as the royal families massacre. He had undone the hood so that the cloak would not simply fall right to the floor. He wore a cotton dyed black shirt, and matching slacks. His dark boots, each of which concealed a dagger, seems to be especially dangerous tonight.

    Aidan had scanned the safe house after entering, but found nothing amiss. He let his guard down, but only by a bit. An assassin bad to always be on guard, on one level or another, or his enemies would indeed destroy him. His enemies though were unknown to him. He was never sure who his enemy was. It could be the baker in the small town nearby, or the elderly woman who lived a mile away from them. His teacher, his master, his bed sharer - the person in this world he cared the most about besides himself - was to be the one to drain his life away...

    The auburn haired youth had no conscience this night... The royal family he had just killed; a king, a queen, two princesses, and a prince - none deserved his sympathy. They were the very people who had taken everything from him eight years ago. Simple rules all assassins adhered to in this country was known as The Assassin's Creed. Number one, once a target is marked, no other may attempt to assassinate that target; number two, no taking jobs from those who threaten this country in anyway, shape or form, or job that is of equal consequence; and number three, no harming the royal family through sickness, heartache, injury, or death.

    The most important creed of them all, the third, and Aidan had broken it. He had sat himself down at the table where he and his master would eat their meals together, chattering about things from past affairs, to weather, to simple gossip. Hard to believe, only yesterday everything seemed as it would go on as it had for the last six years. He smiled, and a single tear from those dark green eyes made it's way down his face, until it descended upon the floor where only a critter of extraordinary hearing would have heard it.
    "Master..." murmured Aidan. He was thankful it would be his master to kill him... Anyone else he would fight back, should they come to destroy him - but against the master, who had taught him everything from how to value life to how to end it, he would not.

    His dark green eyes showed a sign of showed a sign of repentance, not for the family he had murdered, but for the pain he had caused his lover, and master. However, those eyes went from repentance to solitude, all knowing they would die here tonight alone in a sense. His lover would not hold him as he died, Aidan knew that...

    Aidan would never forget the night either that had started all of this sadness, chaos - and happiness. The night the royal family had ordered their army to murder his family who were of noble blood and first in line for the throne – after the Royal Family, of course. The royal family had been paranoid for years that Aidan's family would try to take the throne, since they had produced no heirs themselves, and had finally acted upon this paranoia. Aidan had been out picking blackberries, having been asked by his mother. She always said a twelve year boy needed to be home, doing chores for their lovely mothers. It always made Aidan laugh heartily. He saw the very house he had called home; a house of grandeur, two stories, white paint, and a lovely garden in the back. A ransack by one army of fifty had destroyed this place he called home however. The house now looked more like that of the peasant class. The windows shattered, the front door bashed in, and now a garden filled with men destroying the very life his mother had grown out of a green thumb, and love from her love filled-heart.
    The young Aidan had dropped his basket of blackberries, which were to be used for a pie, ran into the now busted, and derelict house, screaming, "Mother! Father!"
    He had only found bodies, and a bloodbath that would have dyed the sea red. The young boy had run from room to room, even checking the secret ones that he would have been smacked for, had his parents found out he knew of their existence. Now they never would. Horrified, he fled into the night. He looked back once, only to see that once place of happiness to be on fire, engulfed in flames that seemed to dance mockingly at Aidan. The army had dispersed to claim whatever they had dragged out of the home, which had been a lot of family valuables, but Aidan had paid no heed to them as he had ran inside.

    Aidan hid for two years as a peasant’s child. He had portrayed himself as an orphan, and luckily found a nice enough family to take him in. Then he met him - Glynn. The man was four years senior to Aidan. He had caught Aidan stealing the usual bread, which he had gotten away with stealing. In fact, he had gotten away with it for two months at that point. Glynn had grabbed his hand, smacked it, and dragged him back to very backer he had thieved from. It turned out the baker knew Aidan had been stealing, but let him get away with it, knowing how hard it was growing up as a peasant. Of course, as a baker, he was roughly middle-class, but that didn’t change his past.
    That very day had been the day he learned Glynn was also an assassin. He had pleaded with Glynn to take him under his wing. Glynn had only became a master of his trade months ago, and so was unsure about taking on an apprentice so soon. Known as Glynn of Dancing Shadows to most of those who were high ranking assassins, but to regular assassins, he was known as Master of Shadows Stealth. He, as an assassin, had his own principles, refusing to kill women, and children. He did, however, have the blood of men, both good and evil, on his hands. It did not affect him though, as he lived life everyday for himself, and only himself.

    The day that Aidan was apprenticed under Glynn, his first task was to kill the very family that had taken him in. The only member though who remained was the father, the mother dying due to a very bad cough, and the children out of the house. Glynn knew this, and had chosen it to see if Aidan were to be a success to the night world. Aidan had done it with ease. The father knew not – had in fact embraced Aidan affectionately as he usually did, not suspecting a thing until the dagger was found to be protruding through his crusty, loved-filled heart. The look on the man's face; that of shock and then betrayal, haunted Aidan to the point of tears. Glynn had held him, as he would have held a lover. Aidan, fourteen, and Glynn, eighteen, fell in love that night. Glynn, with his handsome yet sullen face - black hair similar to Aidan's but that usually covered his right eye – and his tall features, was a person Aidan had come to love that night. His muscled and well toned body comforted Aidan whenever he needed it. The man was a master of killing, but ever so gentle with Aidan, and any other person that was not his target for that night. Glynn had taught Aidan so well, that the boy had earned himself a name; “Master of the Shadow Crescent”. Ironic that this night it was a crescent moon out hanging in the dark night sky.

    The night of Aidan's sixteenth birthday – or rather the night his life had changed ever-so-dramatically - was the night that Glynn had finally made love to him. That night forever remained in Aidan's thoughts, even now as he looked at the safe house where he and Glynn lived. He heard a scamper and drew his short sword, looking around only to find a mouse chewing on crumbs that littered the dusty floor. He smiled though, as this was to be his deathbed; a safe house with little furniture, a layer of dust on almost everything, a very small upstairs, and crumbs littering the ground.
    He sheathed his short sword and took a moment to really smell the room one final time. It smelled of Glynn, of that natural, almost strawberry scent which Aidan always associated with his lover. Glynn had said before he thought Aidan smelled of roses. He had no idea why, did not even smell it himself, but Glynn had insisted the fact.

    He had no more tears to shed; he had cried all the other night, knowing what was to come this night. He was surprised to find his eyes were not puffy and red when he had awoken that morning when he set out for his final job. Final job and first act of revenge. It would also be, he knew, the last time he would see Glynn as a lover.
    Aidan pulled his boots off, taking the daggers out and revealing his black cotton socks. He would die as he lived - as a civilian of this country, lover of Glynn, and master cook of the home. Glynn had never been able to master the art of cooking. Considering the amazing art he could make with his hands which Aidan grew to be jealous of, and how fast he picked up other things, Aidan had to laugh at the one flaw of the man he loved. Once again a breeze swept through the room. Aidan shuddered again, wondering where the wind came from, and found the front door cracked open. He grew a bit paranoid, but knew he would have at least sensed Glynn had he been in the house. He considered himself at least on par with Glynn's skill of stealth. He looked at himself - his medium height was obvious, and his body was now hardened with muscle after so many years of training with Glynn. He smoothed out the wrinkles of his black cotton slacks and shirt. He laughed, not manically, but enough to be asked what was so funny. What was funny, of course, was how when death was upon one, they tended to act as if nothing was amiss.

    One more gust of wind blew by and Aidan closed the cursed door. He felt the temperature in the room liven up a little bit, but not by much. He cursed his covered toes, feeling the cold, hard wooden floor beneath him. It creaked with each step he took, but it didn't bother Aidan. He was the only one in this house tonight – for now at least. He had heard a flapping noise as he had entered the house, and wondered what was the cause of it. Looking around, he found a single piece of paper, cleverly held down by a stone. Aidan removed the black stone from it’s place, tossing it over his shoulder with little interest, as he read the note. The stone had made a thud when it hit the floor. The note read:

    Dear Aidan,
    I have written this after learning of your treasonous act. I hold no grudge on you as a lover, but as an assassin, I must take your life for the life you took earlier this day. By the time you read this, I suspect I might have found you. I cannot fathom the act you have committed. The years of me teaching you revenge does not matter. The night you cried in my arms after your first murder, the one that is etched into your mind and mine alike, I came to love you. I pray you are redeemed in whatever life awaits us after death. I hope we are reunited in the afterlife when it comes to be my time. I might even join you sooner than you and I might expect. Remember these words my young lover.
    Forever shall I love you. The tides of time can never wash away my feelings, and less it should, I shall commit myself to finding thee, and seeking out thy washed away feelings, and learn to love again the very love that I have lost.

    Love, Glynn.

    As Aidan read this, forgetting he had sworn he had no more tears to cry, a single tear drop similar to the last found itself drip on the paper scroll. Then, Aidan felt the Blade of Justice protruding from his heart and as he did he felt the so familiar breathing pattern, noticing how much stronger the scent of strawberries had become.
    “I'm glad you had time to read it, my love," Aidan heard Glynn whisper, who sounded as though he had cried himself hoarse in his grief.
    "It's alright my love. This was destined to be since yesterday..." stated Aidan, who found it hard to talk, but somehow found the strength to do it. He found himself turned around, seeing the face of the man he loved - stubble on his chin, but age had done nothing to this man's face - still handsome as he was at eighteen. He felt Glynn's warm lips, so full of that strawberry taste, against his own, and felt himself and his lover crying together.
    "I have decided to join you in death,” said Glynn quietly. He could not live with the guilt that he killed Aidan, the one man that he had truly loved in his short life. Glynn embraced Aidan one last time.
    "Glynn... I'm sorry. I thought you would hate me for my crime, even as I died, as I do now,” stated Aidan sniffling. Blood dripped from his chest and mouth now.
    "Why would I... We're lovers, and you’re dying," Glynn had said, tears still falling from his eyes. He laughed a little to lift the atmosphere, but nothing could lift this death-filled place. They both knew how strongly each felt for the other.
    "I thought you'd never forgive me for killing them," said the younger assassin, coughing up more blood. He had long since removed the blade with which he'd taken his lovers life.
    “I should be asking you to forgive me for obeying the creed. My love for you is greater than my job, but I only just realized it now..." replied the older assassin, stroking Aidan's hair to the side to look at that beautiful face of his. “I have decided to join you in the afterlife, after all,” he added quietly. He could not live with the guilt that he had killed Aidan, the one man that he had truly loved in his short life.
    "Glynn, I'm glad my family died now. I'm sad though my heart never let go of my past," stated Aidan quietly, now coughing up blood. He could feel his life ending now - it had been going slowly before, but he knew now that he was on his last bare threads.
    "I love you, and Glynn I do forgive you,” said Aidan quietly with a sniffle. He gave Glynn one last smile, before finishing his final word with a gasp, as his eyes went blank and his body went limp. Glynn closed his lover’s eyes, and then cried and cried for some time, holding Aidan close to him for the last time.

    The very next day, two royal guards had found the safe house which Aidan had hidden away after his crime. However, they did not expect to find two lovers intertwined – Glynn propped up against the desk with his lover’s body in his arms, and even in death he still held him tight. He had poisoned himself after Aidan had left our world, having only ten minutes to live. Aidan was bloody, but looked happy in death, and the same could be said of Glynn. The older assassin sat with his young lovers head under his chin, Glynn’s hands somehow still locked around his waist. Aidan was between his masters legs, leaning back against his chest, which was holding the older man up. The royal guards didn't know what to do afterwards, but decided to at least bury the two together... They knew they shouldn't since one of them had murdered their lords, but the way the two had looked in death... they felt compelled to... The two lovers, one compelled by revenge and the other by a creed - however, both just as happy in death to be together – forever…