Mage Assassin 2 Chapter 1

Judging from the sunlight that was still rising in the east, I had some time before I had to get into position and kill the goblin. Until then, I wandered around the stall owners who were just setting up for the day, and I eyed the goods they had to offer.

The town centre wasn’t as busy as it would be at midday, but I enjoyed coming into the city even at this early hour because there was always something different going on. Sure, the stalls would stand in the same place, and there would be the same shopkeepers manning them, the castle would be situated where it always was, and the faint smell of exotic fruits and horse manure lingered in the air, but with over four million residents residing in the kingdom, there were always new faces to explore.

The stalled area was made up of rows of wooden shack-like buildings. Some were more like covered wagons, and others like fully cemented buildings, but they were all broken up by veins of dried-dirt pathways that trailed off in all different directions.

I was wearing my usual uniform of loose-fitted pants and a simple, cotton, tunic. This wasn’t much different from my everyday clothes, but the tunic was a bit more form-fitting so it wouldn’t catch on anything while I conducted my work. I also wore a belt that held a dagger, and a shortsword, and a cloak adorned my back along with a recurve bow.

I could have given the job of killing the goblin to anyone else in my estate, especially now that I had become the Master of the Assassins’ Estate. Hell, I could have given it to Spodium, our newest assassin, because of how elementary the kill was, but instead, I chose to take it on myself. Maybe it was nostalgia that led me here, or maybe it was because this job was something that could be easily ticked off the docket. Either way, I was looking forward to it.

The goblin in question was named Bick, and my departed Master, Master Abbot, had added the job to my list before his passing. Lekran, the herbal shopkeeper, hired our estate to kill Bick because he had been stealing from the town centre stalls on a daily basis for months now. Aside from just herbs, Lekran divulged that Bick was thieving from the vegetable stands, as well as the raw jewel shop, and all of the shoemakers in this area. None of the knights of Ocadia could be bothered to handle the goblin, so Lekran quietly campaigned with the other stall owners and raised enough money to hire us and finally see the matter settled.

Smaller tasks like this were becoming less and less frequent, though.

Master Abbot had been a water mage and used to be able to read through the waters to conduct all necessary research for our estate, but as someone who didn’t possess the same water powers as him, research was a lengthy process for me. This meant that in recent weeks, the price of assassinations had increased, and the more menial jobs weren’t bothered with. Any of the less-established assassin estates in the city could handle those.

Before I’d succeeded my Master, I didn’t used to care much about the background profiles of those I was assassinating. Now, the most important position in the estate had been passed to me, and it was my duty to do concise and thorough research before taking on any clients. The work wasn’t boring by any means, and it gave me an amusing glimpse of the way this kingdom operated, but it did leave me busier than I used to be when I only murdered my assigned targets.

I continued through the market stalls and listened to the men greeting each other across the way, as well as the thuds that came from the people hauling their goods off of their wagons and carts. Then I turned and saw the first few elves arrive to shop, and this meant it was time to put things in motion.

According to Lekran, the goblin would be arriving soon after the elves. He would be nearing the first vegetable stall to bag himself some potatoes before working his way through the west end of the market, and once the real thieving began, I’d need to move fast.

Goblins were notoriously light on their feet when they were up to no good, and in a crowd like this, with the morning sun blazing in directly at eye level, it would be easy to lose the little thief.

I veered off to my left and headed down the sides of the forty-foot high buildings and then toward the back passageways that encircled the town centre. This was partly due to the urgency of the task, but also my need to stay anonymous while I scoped out the situation. Part of the reason I was so successful in what I did was because I didn’t draw too much attention to myself while I conducted my business.

I flicked my cloak behind me and wandered through the back streets that were solely used for the traders and workers, and I ran parallel to the path I had just come from. Then I chose to scale the wooden building in front of me so I could get a better view from the roof of a shack-like stall.

I readjusted the recurve bow slung across my back and made sure my swords were well-secured on my belt. Then I gripped my fingers between the wedges of wood and hoisted myself up to the flat-topped roof. Once I got to the top, I perched down and scoped out the area from the high vantage point until I saw the stall in question.

The first vegetable stall on the street wasn’t very big, and it had no walls and stood on only four posts. The person behind it was a young boy who looked around fifteen, and I could only assume it was the shopkeeper’s son. He was a slight lad, with a golden tuft of hair on his head, and he wore simple cotton clothes to ward off the sun that would surely beat down on him once midday struck.

Within the vegetable stall laid a few wooden boxes filled with a variety of normal, untainted vegetables, but the produce I was keeping my eye on the most were the potatoes.

I hunched down in my position and continued to scout the vegetable stall while I waited for the goblin to appear. If I had timed it right, he would be there at any moment. Then he would make his way through the centre and head over to Lekran’s stall for his next thieving job, and I smirked to myself as I ran through the itinerary of the goblin’s dealings I had memorized.

It felt good to be out of the office and back in the field again, even if it was just a simple murder.

A few weeks ago, I wouldn’t have thought twice about this task because it was an everyday assignment, but I was feeling the long term effects of Master Abbot’s passing now. I had always loved my job, not only because I was good at it, but because I enjoyed settling the peace in the kingdom that the king couldn’t. I hadn’t been out in the streets to conduct the more hands-on business since I became the new Master, and now that I was crouched on a rooftop stalking a target again, I realized just how much I’d missed it.

And I wanted to soak up every second of this task.

I readjusted the weapons I kept on my belt and made myself comfortable until I finally saw a little goblin appear.

The problem with goblins was that they all looked very similar, especially from afar. They were all the same small size, with purple skin that looked as if it was bruised, and they had the same tomato-shaped noses. They wore the same clothes, as well, and their hair, which was a dark, dusty gray, sat atop their heads in the same way.

But Bick the goblin was said to have part of his ear snipped off on the left side, and from here, it almost looked as if this goblin’s left ear was a little misshapen.

I dashed to the side of the stall I was on, pushed my foot off the edge of the roof, and jumped to the ground. My right foot and my left knee hit the ground, and I quickly shot up again. Then I brushed my icy-white hair out of my face and set off in the direction of the thieving goblin.

I quickly slipped out onto the main path and cut through the stalled area to run down the opposite alleyway, and I stalked through the smaller streets and kept an eye on everyone I passed, just in case I caught a glimpse of Bick bustling through the crowd.

The goblin up the lane was no doubt collecting his potatoes now, but as soon as he ducked into the back paths, he’d pick up speed.

His sort always got faster the more they stole.

The streets had started to blossom with more people and creatures all trying to be the first to buy the best produce of the day. I hurried past some druid healers, as well as a naga, a pixie, and even a sylph that dashed from the ground to the sky.

But then I spotted someone who would be of use to me for this task.

I didn’t know his name, and I had never seen him before, but he was unknowingly about to play a role in the killing of a goblin thief. I wasn’t going to ask him to join me, though, I was more than capable of enacting my own assassination. Instead, I was going to transform into him.

Because I was Dex Morgan, mirror mage.

What truly made me a great assassin was not just my skills or my competencies, although they certainly helped. More than this, being a mirror mage meant I could transform into any human form, whether it was a wizard or a carpenter, a warlock or a human child, but this also came with a lot of hindrances I had to be wary of.

As far as I was aware, I was the only mirror mage in the whole of Ocadia, and this meant my powers were so valuable, I couldn’t afford for many to find out about them. There were a few locals who knew of my talents, like Master Abbot and Xerzor, the alchemist, but very few beyond them. Not even my own colleagues in the estate knew of my powers.

The main reason I had chosen to keep it this way was because stealth in a job like mine was important, and my powers made me the stealthiest of all. This wouldn’t be the case if my secret was leaked to the kingdom. Either everyone would want me to constantly put on a show for them because of my rare abilities, or whenever someone saw me, they would be constantly looking over their shoulder in case I wanted to mirror into them.

I couldn’t risk ending up a local celebrity for the rarity of my powers, but more importantly, I couldn’t risk being taken advantage of because of them.

The fewer people who knew my true powers, the fewer people could try to exploit them for their own gain.

Aside from this, being a mirror mage also came with more function-based rules, as well. Whenever I mirrored someone, their clothes didn’t miraculously appear on me. Luckily, there was a resident seamstress in the estate house who would sew the appropriate clothes for me, but this meant planning ahead for more elaborate jobs was vital. I couldn’t be caught with the face of a well-known baron while wearing the clothes of a peasant.

I also had to brush my skin with my intended mirror target in order to take their form, and for this first transformation, I could choose when exactly to morph or not. But if I was already mirrored as someone else, then brushing my skin against another person was dangerous. I still hadn’t perfected the art of resisting a second mirror, and I would shift into the second form against my will.

I glanced around the area to find an exit route and then proceeded toward the man I’d chosen to mirror. I didn’t have any clothes to change into since this was a simple street job, so I had to pick someone of a similar stature and body size to mine. This man seemed younger than me by about three years or so, and he was just over six foot, the same as myself. He was both lean and muscular, but instead of my white hair, his hair was dark brown.

I hurried out in front of him, and I didn’t have to pretend I was distracted looking for someone because I just caught a flicker of purplish skin jetting past a stall four paths away.

Then I rammed into the man with the dark brown hair.

“Shit,” I gasped as I caught him before he could crash into a stall.

The man looked irritated as he righted himself, but his brow soon unravelled when I apologized.

“I’m sorry about that, I didn’t see you there,” I said hastily. “I’m looking for my son.”

“Not a problem,” he returned with some concern.

His voice was coarse, as if he was a regular smoker, and there was a deep tremor that ran through it. I picked up on it quickly, just in case I crossed paths with someone he knew from the town. My voice did change to match the person I mirrored, but it was quite surprising how different I could sound, even with the same vocal chords, if I didn’t put the right inflections on it.

“Your son, did you say?” the man asked.

“Yes, he was right here beside me, but he always gets distracted in the morning rush.” I rifled my hair like I imagined a concerned father would do. “Light hair and a black cloak. He’s no taller than my elbow. Have you seen him?”

“I haven’t,” the man said as he squinted through the morning sun.

“That’s alright,” I sighed. “He’s around here somewhere, the little bugger.”

“Well, good luck,” the man said.

“Yeah, thanks,” I chuckled. “Have a good one.”

I quickly stuck my hand out and waited for my handshake to be returned. A handshake wasn’t really appropriate, but our skin needed to touch, and it was the most subtle way of following through with the plan.

The man didn’t hesitate to return the handshake with a friendly grin, and he looked around the streets one more time like my phantom son might walk up any moment.

As our hands connected, I looked him up and down to make any last minute observations that might be useful to me. From what I could tell, he was just a regular human who could have had any occupation, which worked well in this scenario.

Then I pulled my hand away and started off down the street, and the moment I was sure the man was distracted with the stalls again, I found a smaller, narrow alleyway to slide down so nobody saw me transform.

Mirroring into someone didn’t take very long, but aside from the fact that my secret powers were hidden, magic was a tentative subject in the kingdom of Ocadia. Any spells, practices, and anything of the like, had to be performed in front of and approved by the king, and only within his guidelines were they allowed to be used outside estate walls. Because the king had never seen my powers in action, technically, every time I mirrored into someone else, I was doing an illegal practice.

I squatted down in the shadows and looked both ways before letting my powers takeover. The process didn’t hurt, and even when my bones and muscles had to drastically change in size, it was only a mildly uncomfortable transition. Today, a familiar prickling feeling spread through my skin while I underwent a slight adjustment in appearance, and once the effortless transformation was complete, I double checked by feeling my face.

My nose felt slightly larger, and there was a bit of stubble on my chin. My eyebrows were thicker than usual, but other than this, I felt pretty close to being myself in this man’s build.

I took one glance around me to make sure I was still unseen, and then I set out to find the goblin.

I envisioned the front sides of the stalls I passed and reached for my recurve bow that was slung across my back. It wasn’t my favorite type of bow, but I had planned on shooting my target at close range, so it was the best for the job. The grip and arrow rest of the weapon was made out of magically formed ivory that had been created by the sorcerers, while the upper and lower limb of the bow was made from wood and infused with ground dragon’s scales to give it a perfect balance between durable and malleable.

I gripped the bow in my hand, and while I had some other weapons on me that would have arguably been a better choice today, a bow was always my preferred option, and if I could use it in a task, then I would. Once I had a good grip on it, I reached into the quiver of arrows on my back, and I pulled out an arrow, which happened to be a standard arrow today with a simple steel head. The shaft was actually made from treated, petrified oak, though, which gave the piece an eye-catching sheen.

I hadn’t used this particular style of arrow in nearly seven months, mostly because it was so distinct, and I never used the same weapon more than once in a span of a couple months. By now, more than enough time had passed that I could afford to use such a loud piece again. No one would recall that an identical arrow took the life of a drunken half-elf seven months ago, and even if they did, they’d never tie me to the crime.

I was disguised as a humble carriage driver that night.

Once I was happy with the setup of my weapon, I continued down the path. My light footsteps turned into a steady run as I caught another flicker of purple skin between the stalls.

Bick the goblin was skulking near a jeweller’s stall at the moment, and I broke into a sprint as I recalled that the silk shop would be his next target.

I gauged the perfect location based on the direction the goblin would be approaching the silk shop from, and when I glimpsed him through the next sidestreet I passed, I could tell I was right on target. Then I whisked myself through a leftside alley and around three shadowed corners until I came to the back of the stall where some of the finest silk in Ocadia was sold.

Bick would nab his silks before I could get him, but as soon as he came this way to move on to the nearest clockmaker, I’d be ready.

I concealed my loaded weapon as much as I could by covering my arm with the cloak, and then I twisted my body toward the side of the stall. It was made from thicker, more durable wood than some of the others, and I planted my feet firmly on the ground and waited, but a slight grin came to my face the moment I was officially in position.

The adrenaline of the job never ceased to thrill me, and as I waited, I breathed in deeply and listened for some footsteps.

Then I heard the shuffling sounds of a small creature hurrying my way.

The sound a goblin made was similar to an elf, so I quickly poked my head around the corner to see if the creature was indeed Bick, the goblin.

And it was. His left ear was scraggly at the top like it had been torn, and he had an already heavy sack of stolen goods hitched over one shoulder. He kept blurring out of sight as he dashed beneath the tables of the silk shop, but the faint line of dust he kicked up assured me he’d be finished any moment.

I ducked back, hid behind the stall wall, steadied my bow, and waited until the shuffling footsteps suddenly jetted in my direction. Then I looked behind me to make sure the coast was clear, and as soon as the shuffling sounds of Bick’s feet came within a few feet of me, I jumped out in his path.

In that split second it took to shoot him with my arrow, I saw fear in the goblin’s widened eyes, and a sharp intake of breath filled his lungs. But his fear didn’t last long, because within the blink of an eye, I loosed my arrow and sent it straight into his heart.

The small goblin tumbled to the ground with a quiet thud, and he laid on his back with the arrow poking through his chest. A small trickle of purple blood started to ooze from the incision while his mouth gaped open, and a frozen look of shock was plastered over his dull, blotted, purple face.

“One shot kill,” I sighed to myself, and the words brought a smile to my face.

Damn, I really did miss this. Even a thieving goblin boosted my mood.

Still, I didn’t glance at the dead goblin for any longer. My work was done, and it was time to get out of there.

I would have returned the stolen goods that laid beside his body, but that would hardly maintain appearances, so I left the scene as it was, bloody arrow and all, and looped my recurve bow over my back.

Then I weaved through the back alleys for a little while so I couldn’t be traced to the crime scene, and just before I filtered into the crowds of the marketplace, I shed my borrowed identity.

I was Dex Morgan the mage assassin again, and I was already having a fantastic day.

The streets were now in full swing as beings from all over the kingdom gathered in the town centre for various reasons. I casually walked at the same pace as everyone else, and I exchanged a few pleasant nods with the shopkeepers while I tried to decide if I could afford to delay my return to the estate. At the moment, I preferred to stroll around and find some new exotic fruits to test out before I had to get back to my Master duties as usual, but then I stopped dead in my tracks when I saw the massive stone building ahead of me.

Hanging over the north side of the stalls was the king’s castle.

“Shit, the king,” I whispered to myself.

Just a few weeks ago, I had killed the fire titan, Ignis, and somehow, the king found out about it. I was still unsure who his intel was, but I’d never been tracked down after a job before like that. The king had found me out within a matter of hours and summoned me to see him, and I had carried the scroll around in my bag with me ever since in case I found a spare moment to pay him a visit.

Now, weeks had passed, and the meeting had completely slipped my mind.

Sort of.

I sighed begrudgingly, but I was already in the area, I had already successfully killed my target before the day had barely begun, and I couldn’t put it off forever.

It looked like today was the day to finally speak with the king.

I passed Xerzor’s unsigned stall and crossed paths with a pretty pixie who stared me down with her small, maple-colored eyes as we passed each other. I smiled at her, and she blushed a cherry-blossom pink at the gesture until I turned my two-toned eyes back to the direction I was walking in.

Web, the coachman with two horses, nodded his head toward me as he journeyed down the way, and another shopkeeper, Grialla, waved at me in passing.

Then I neared the castle, and the weight of the king’s summons pressed a little heavier on my shoulders.

The last time I had been in this enormous structure, I was disguised as a druid to blend in with the magical council. Now, I was expected to return as myself, and while I couldn’t stop wondering how the king found out it was me who killed the fire titan, I couldn’t be too cautious in this situation. Even if the king knew my identity, no one else could be made aware of my true situation in this kingdom.

Unfortunately, the day I impersonated the druid, the king announced to the council that whoever was responsible for killing Ignis would gain a title as well as a rare magical stave and pretty much everything that didn’t interest me. This meant I ran the risk of being put on display for the whole kingdom, which would effectively end my anonymity and potentially my career.

For this reason, I had to come up with a plan, and I hoped it would help keep some cards close to my chest while I entered the castle.

As I walked, I brushed hands with a human woman.

She was rather pretty and in her thirties with long, blonde, straight hair and pale skin, and she wore simple pants and a tunic that told me she was from the farming stock in the north of the kingdom.

She looked both innocent and unknowable to the guards of the castle, and she would work perfectly for my next course of action.

I hid out the way by the sides of the stalls so I could mirror her form, but just as I crouched down, I heard a scream in the distance. I assumed it was someone finding the dead goblin, since a commotion started up in that general direction, but now wasn’t the time to think about any of that. I was already on to my next mission.

In a few seconds, my stature had shrunken and a pair of breasts grew from my chest while my hair grew long, soft, and blonde. I waited for the pretty maiden I’d mirrored to leave the immediate area and then quickly got the scroll with the king’s summons out of my bag, tied the cloak tighter around my neck, and headed toward the entrance of the castle with my head down.

The building itself was extraordinary, with each brick telling a centuries old story of Ocadia, and layed on top of those were the king’s crests and flags. My neck craned up to the top of the castle as I tried to see how many levels there were, but it was impossible to tell. Above me, small, glassless windows peeked out from all different points, and below them, a set of wide, grand stairs that must have had over one hundred steps stretched up to the castle entrance.

I slowed my pace down and clasped my hands in front of me like a shy woman would do, and I started to walk up the stairs as elegantly as I could manage in oversized boots. I may have appeared to be a pretty and working class commoner, but it was imperative that I played the role right, especially because at the top of the stairs were two guards.

“What do you want?” A beefy guard with black hair asked in a non-inviting tone.

“I’ve come to see the king,” I said in a polite manner.

“You can’t just walk up these steps and expect a meeting with the king, love,” the guard snorted. “It don’t work like that.”

“Actually, it does, sir,” I returned. I uncurled the scroll from my clasped hands and handed it to the guard, who inspected it with an upturned nose and furrowed eyebrows. “It’s a summons, if you can’t read.”

The guard shot a look at me, but I held his gaze without concern. There was no name addressed at the top of the summons, so it could certainly belong to anyone, but the signature of the king at the bottom was the real deal. It was my ticket in, and the guard beckoned the other one over with a wave of his hand.

They both read the summons and then whispered to each other.

“My colleague will take you to where you need to be,” the same guard returned and shoved the scroll back into my hands. “But I’m warning you, if you use that kind of attitude around the king, there will be consequences. Got it, girl?”

“Certainly, sir,” I said and forced a smile.

The other guard, who still hadn’t spoken to me yet, turned away and walked toward the castle entrance, and I followed behind him while I worked on not shuffling my oversized boots until I was out of earshot.

The castle itself was spectacular on the inside. It was dark and gothic, unlike the rest of the kingdom, and was coated in blackened wood. Above me were gargoyles that watched as my clunky shoes shuffled across the tiled floors, and in front of me, a red, rectangular carpet ran through the front reception area.

I had entered the double doors at the end of the red carpet once before for the assembly of the magical council, but instead of going through there today, the guard led me up the spiralled staircase and opened an unassuming door.

“Stay here while I tell him you’ve arrived,” the guard finally spoke. “What’s your name?”

“You may tell him I was summoned on an account of Ignis.” I smiled. “He’ll know who I am straight away.”

“Right.” The guard nodded. “Okay, sit tight, the king is a very busy man and his agenda may be full for a while. You understand.”

“Not a problem,” I said and took a seat on a velvet-lined, gold-darted chair.

The guard, who was much more slender and friendlier than the other, smiled as he openly eyed me up and then closed the door behind him.

I snorted and shook my head, but now that it was just me in the room, I had to decide whether to shed my mirrored identity or not.

The king knew it was Dex Morgan who assassinated Ignis, otherwise he wouldn’t have sent the scroll directly to me. I assumed this meant he also knew what I was supposed to look like, but if I became myself again, and the guard reentered, then it would pose a lot of questions I couldn’t really answer.

On the other hand, if the king walked in and saw a fair-skinned, blonde woman patiently waiting to see what he had to say about the reward, then I would have to make him aware of my mirroring abilities… unless he already knew.

“He had better not,” I mumbled through gritted teeth, and my nerves heightened a bit.

I decided to change my form now.

It was better to lie to a guard than confess my power to a king who could use it to his advantage.

I quickly shifted myself back to my natural physique, and I tensely sat on the edge of my chair while I waited for the king to arrive.

The room I was located in was quite empty and small in size, at least compared to the rest of the castle, and it boasted a gold garland that hung around the walls alongside the king’s crest. A table filled half the room, but apart from the wall-decor, a small window, and the two chairs and table, there was nothing else to look at.

I allowed my eyes to wander across the bare, cobbled brick that surrounded the floor and the walls, and after several minutes passed, I had scoped out the whole room. There was nothing left to do aside from wait quietly, but almost as if someone heard my huffs of boredom, muffled sounds rose from behind the door.

I turned my chair around so I was facing the entryway and waited for the door knob to turn, and an anxious trickle of adrenaline ran through my veins.

I was Dex right now, and I was sitting in the king’s castle after being flagged as exactly what I was for once: a highly-effective murderer.

All I could do was hope my plan had worked, and it was only the king who was behind the oak frame.

Otherwise, there’d be a hell of a lot of hoops to jump through real soon.