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Tacitus couldn't move, couldn't speak. The fox could only stare at the blazing inferno at the end of the road, watching the other townsfolk as they tried desperately to extinguish the flames. Bucket after bucket of water was thrown into the fire, to no avail. The flames had spread quickly, and there was little hope for the farmhouse now. "Tacitus!" a voice called him, but he barely heard it. It called him twice, then thrice, four times. "Tacitus!" the fifth time broke him free of the daze he was in. The fox's father shook his shoulders hard, "What are you doing? Don't just stand there! Help us!" Taci had just returned from a battle up north. His unit had been given a few days to return home and see their families, and the fox had jumped at the opportunity. He hadn't expected to walk into... this. "The Swifts are all out, I think." the older fox said as he pulled his son along, "Come on, we might still be able to save the house!" "What started this?" Tacitus could barely even voice the question. Dozens of thoughts swam around his head. He was... angry. Worried. Saddened. He couldn't quite tell what he was feeling at that moment. The vulpine soldier managed to get a grip on his mind, grabbing a bucket and trying to help with the firefighting. It really was as bad as it looked; fire had spread all throughout the house, and the tiny bits of water they were throwing onto it did little to slow its path of destruction. "I don't know what started it." his father explained, tossing another futile bucket full of water into the inferno. He turned to the crowd and hollered as loud as he could, "Is everyone out safely?" Tacitus listened to the faint roll call that sounded through the crowd. For a moment he was relieved... but then he heard the words that would stop his thundering heart. "Jenna! Jenna's still in there!" the vixen's mother cried out through a hacking cough. Taci fought for control over his muscles. The shock tried to freeze him in place again, but he wouldn't be stopped this time. He tossed his bucket aside and took two steps toward the house before his father stopped him, "What are you crazy? You can't go in there!" "I can't leave Jenna in there either!" "Tacitus, if you go into that house, you won't come back out!" There was a crackling sound. The house's beams shuddered, and a section in the back collapsed to the ground. Tacitus wrenched himself from his father's grasp and ran toward the burning building. He couldn't let Jenna die in there. Not after making that promise to her. Taci ripped the lower part of his shirt and held it to his nose and mouth to keep the smoke away, taking a deep breath before taking the plunge inside. Visibility was nonexistent, and even with the cloth blocking the smoke, he was coughing with every other breath. He would have to make this quick. "Jenna!" he called out, dodging a falling support beam and falling over a broken table, "Jenna, where are you!" The house began to groan and creak. There wasn't much time left. He forced himself back up and ran further inside, heading first to Jenna's bedroom. He opened the door and was greeted by a blast of flame. "Idiot." he scolded himself. He couldn't see any way into the room with that wall of fire blocking him, but Jenna could have easily been in there... Another cracking sound met his ears, drawing his attention to the ceiling. The house rumbled and shook all around him, and he could only assume that the second floor was coming down. Any sane person would have given up, but he was a man with a purpose. He would get Jenna out if it was the last thing he did. That was assuming, of course, the whole house didn't collapse around him... which was exactly what was happening. A nearby room was reduced instantly to a pile of rubble, and the ceiling above Tacitus began to split. A mountain of debris came falling down upon him, knocking him onto his back and covering him in broken and splintered wood from the waist down. A feeling of dread overtook his heart. Not only had he failed to save Jenna, but he'd be losing his own life in the process. He coughed again, groping around for the bit of cloth he'd been using to protect himself, but then thought better of it. Better to pass out from suffocation than be burned or crushed to death, right? The fox had just resigned himself to his fate when he felt someone grab his wrists and pull once, then twice. The third pull tugged him free, and he was quickly dragged out of the building, watching it collapse before his eyes. "Dammit son..." the fox's father let go of his wrists and collapsed to the floor, breathing heavily and brushing soot from his clothes, "What did I tell you about being a hero?" Taci was silent. What could he possibly say? He'd just watched his last hope of ever seeing his best friend again crumble to the ground. Bitter, angry tears flowed freely from his eyes, a low growl beginning to rumble in his throat. "You ok?" "No, dad... I'm not ok." "I know it's hard, but--" The younger fox stumbled to his feet and spun around to face his father, "Don't tell me what you 'know', ok? I don't need that shit right now." He turned and walked off toward the town border. His father called after him, "Son, wait! We need you here! More than ever!" Tacitus didn't turn back, "And I need to get away from here..." He rode out of town, away from the main road, keeping his horse at a slow gallop. He didn't want anyone to find him. He didn't want to go back. How could he possibly face Mr. and Mrs. Swift after what happened? Even more than that: How could he face Jenna's grave after swearing to protect her? "Tell me you'll come back and see me soon." she'd asked, kissing him for the first and last time. "Of course I will. You have my word." he had replied, surprised by her sudden affection and the admission that would follow. "What a joke." the fox said, trying so very hard to fight back the sobbing that wanted desperately to break free of his devastated heart, "I can't protect anyone... All I ever gave her were empty promises." The sound of voices met his ears, and he slowed his horse to a stop. He listened closely, and the things he would hear would set him on a path of blind, hate-filled murder. "So did you do it?" "Yeah, the house is gone. Two survivors, but the youngest one's dead." "Good. Maybe now we'll have some leverage over Duskden. Once their profits drop, we'll be able to buy them out easily. Such fertile land is hard to come by these days." Tacitus' blood boiled in his veins. Jenna had to die because some greedy businessman wanted dirt to grow crops in? He could barely contain his rage, and the only thing keeping him from drawing his sword and charging in blindly was the desire for a successful revenge. He would have to do this carefully. Quietly, the fox dismounted. He moved slowly through the brush, spying the two conspirators as they conversed. One human, one wolf. The human was apparently the arson, and the wolf the businessman. They both had swords, but they'd never get to use them. The only thing Tacitus would have to decide was which to kill first. He could kill the arsonist first, but he wanted him to suffer for the crime he'd committed. However, the businessman had set the whole plot in motion, so perhaps he was the one who needed to suffer... Eventually the fox just threw reason to the wind and drew his sword, leaping out from the brush and striking before either man knew he'd even emerged. The arsonist died first, the fox's sword cutting deep into his neck and nearly severing his head from his body. Blood sprayed in a fine mist as the human fell, and the wolf went to draw his weapon, only to have his hand hacked off by Tacitus' second strike. "Wait! Wait, stop!" the lupine begged after he'd gotten through screaming over his severed hand, "What do you want? Money? I can give you that!" "No..." Tacitus' voice was as cold as death itself, "What you took from me... no one could give back." "I can make it happen, I swear! Come on, just... don't do it..." The fox's lips curled into a grin, and for a moment he terrified even himself. Never had he taken pleasure in a kill. Never had a kill meant anything more to him than orders to be followed and carried out. This kill was... far more personal. "I couldn't save you, Jenna." he watched as the wolf's expression went from fearful to downright horrified, the realization as to who this fox was striking him hard, "But I can avenge you. It's not what you would have wanted... but I see no better justice." The wolf's screaming could be heard throughout the woods as Tacitus delivered retribution upon him, strike after agonizing strike. After a while, the screams tapered off into silence, and Tacitus emerged from the brush once more. His clothing and fur were all soaked with blood, but he didn't care. His lust for revenge had been satisfied, and though his heart still ached from loss, it would have to do. He'd just started to mount his horse again when the sound of footsteps caught his ears. He reached for his weapon again, watching as a cloaked man approached him from up the road. "Good show, sir!" the man said quite cheerfully in a light Old World accent, native mostly to humans, "They never saw you coming." "Who are you, and why should I care?" "My name is of no consequence, dear sir, but you can call me Number One. My associates and I have been keeping an eye on you." "Yeah?" the fox drew his sword and pointed it threateningly, "Listen, I don't have time for this. I've suffered enough today." This "Number One" didn't react to the threatening gesture, simply putting his gloved hands together and continuing, "We believe that you have a certain set of skills that could... very well benefit our organization, and yourself as well." he took a couple steps closer, careful of the fox's weapon, "You felt it, did you not, Tacitus? The joy... The exhilaration felt in killing for a purpose. Your own purpose. Not just some... political drivel." Tacitus raised a brow, slowly beginning to lower his sword. Now he was interested. "Yeah." he admitted, "I did. So what?" "Tacitus." Number One approached once more, "I represent the Silent Hand. You may be familiar with the name." "Assassins?" "Yes, indeed. We have eyes everywhere, Tacitus, and they have been on you for quite some time. We believe you would make an excellent assassin." Tacitus almost laughed, "This is a joke, right? What the hell are you talking about?" "Do I look like a man who jokes?" the other man asked plainly, his hands now resting behind his back, "Now... I will make this plain and simple: You meet me at a predetermined location and learn of this wonderful opportunity... or you don't, and you continue to be a puppet of the military. The choice is yours." Shouting voices could be heard in the distance, calling out for the fox. Number One seemed to grin beneath his hood, though Taci couldn't see his face, "And you'd best make that choice quickly." Tacitus looked back in the direction of Duskden. Back there, he had his mother, his father and the Swift family... minus Jenna. In front of him stood a new life, away from the sorrow that his home would inevitably bring him. The fox took a deep breath and nodded to the cloaked assassin, "Alright, 'Number One'. You've got yourself a deal." "Excellent! Seek me out when you find the time." Number One stepped into the brush. "Wait, how will I know?" "Oh, you'll know, Tacitus. You'll know..." The fox stood dumbfounded for a moment. The guy had said they had eyes everywhere... "Tacitus!" the voices were drawing closer. He quickly mounted up and took off down the road, leaving his home, his family and his friends behind... for better or for worse. The voices of his old home grew quieter and quieter, "Tacitus! Tacitus... tacitus..."

"Tacitus!" Lore pushed on her friend's shoulder, making him jump, "Hey, wake up. You've been in a daze for like... fifteen minutes." "W-Wha?" the fox shook his head and blinked a couple times, turning to Lore and clearing his throat, "Um... sorry. What were you saying?" The gecko huffed and rolled her eyes, "I just read the whole damn book to you, and you weren't even listening!" "You... read it all?" "Yes!" her expression quickly turned to one of pride, "It's so easy now... I still stumble a little bit, but I can understand it now!" "That's... great!" Tacitus smiled, trying to force his memories aside and focus on the here and now, "Lore, I'm so proud of you." She giggled happily and launched herself into the fox, hugging him tightly around the waist, "I couldn't have done it without you, foxyfox!" Tacitus chuckled a bit and returned the affectionate gesture, though a lot less... enthusiastically, "Well I'm glad I've been able to help you. No one your age shouldn't be able to read." Lore nuzzled into her friend's chest, making herself comfortable, "I feel significantly less stupid." "You were never stupid, Lore. Dense, but not stupid." "Hey! I was never dense." she huffed again and started to retort when there was a knock at the door. "Yeah, who is it?" Tacitus asked, prying Lore off for now and answering the door. It was a lower-ranked assassin, probably only recruited days ago by the looks of it. "Tacitus Bren?" "Mmhmm, that's me." "The Hand wishes to speak to you, at your earliest convenience." "Oh, alright. Thanks. I'll be right there." he closed the door and sighed, stretching his arms up and turning back to Lore, "Looks like you'll have to find someone or something else to cling to for a while." "Aww." Lore pouted and crossed her legs, sitting on the fox's bed, "Hey, do um... do you mind if I look at more of your books?" The fox smiled, happy to see her so interested in developing her skills, "Not at all. Feel free to read at your leisure. Just, you know, lock the door behind you when you leave." "Ok!" she hopped off the bed and clung to him once again, rubbing her cheek against his, "Thank you Taci." "Y-Yeah, no problem." his cheeks burned under his fur. He thought he'd be used to her affections by now, but her cuteness always seemed to put him off guard. He slowly pushed away from her, knowing that "at your earliest convenience" typically meant "right now" to the Hand. "Be careful, foxyfox." Taci rolled his eyes playfully, "Who, me? I'm the King of Caution."

"Ah, Tacitus." Number One stood in the middle of the Silent Hand, flanked by the four other 'Numbers' on either side of him, "Good to see you're eager to start. This job is a little urgent." "So, give me the details." the fox crossed his arms, leaning against the back wall. Three of the other Hand members murmured to one another, but Number One raised his hand to shut them up, "I'd have thought you'd all be used to his attitude by now. Just remember, we're the Silent Hand, not the Guild of Polite Assassins!" The figure to his right snickered a little, and no further comments were made. "Moving right along... Tacitus, you will be going out west to deal with a band of mercenaries." "Sounds simple enough. Mercs are dime-a-dozen and fight like it." "Indeed, but it's their leader you ought to be concerned about." the cloaked man put his hands together and laced his fingers, "He's a dragon, and a tough one at that. Intelligence reports say that he killed the last leader of that particular mercenary group, and they've been growing ever since." "Where's this guy from?" "We did some digging, but haven't been able to come up with any dependable information. Our best bet is Toran, which would explain both his aggressive demeanor and his destination... but not why he's out leading mercs and not coordinating with the rest of his kin." Tacitus leaned forward as Number One produced a map and laid it out on a circular stone table in the middle of the room, the foxy assassin looking over the various marks made where the mercenaries made camp, "What's his target?" "Eastvale. They supply much of Astyria's iron reserves in exchange for their protection. This leads us to believe that your target is indeed from Toran, as a blow to Eastvale would cripple Astyria's military." "And Astyria and Toran have been exchanging blows for years..." "Right." One pointed at the camp marker on the map, "Your target is camped about ten miles out from the city. Scouts report that Eastvale is aware of their presence, but Astyria is, so far, out of the loop. Messengers from Eastvale have been shot at, so don't expect the Astyrian military to swoop in and save the day, should you screw up." "With respect, I never screw up." Tacitus was only half-joking. "Well I certainly hope you won't. A lot of money is riding on this. Now... Your target identifies himself simply as Paleflame. Some mercenary nickname or ego stroking, I'm sure." Number One waved his hand dismissively, "He's never seen without his armor: Full iron plate mail and an iron helmet covering his head. He won't be an easy target to take down, but every suit of armor has an opening." "You going to tell me where said opening is?" "It would hardly be very interesting if I did, now wouldn't it?" Taci lifted a brow, "So in other words... you don't know." "You're no fun." Number One's comment was blatantly sarcastic, "You must leave immediately. The mercenaries are set to strike any day now, once their soldiers are fed and rested. Eastvale's paltry military will probably be able to hold them for a skirmish or two, but anything beyond that will certainly overwhelm them. You'll have to kill Paleflame before that happens." "Anything else?" "Nothing. Strike true and silently, Tacitus."

The day-long ride to Eastvale was uneventful. Tacitus passed a few other riders, carriages and shepherds, but the closer he got to Eastvale, the more lonely the road became. The fox adjusted the bag resting behind him on his horse's saddle, containing his provisions and gear. "Hopefully I won't wind up fighting legions of soldiers. I'm good, but I'm not that good." he watched the road ahead of him, one hand slipping from the reins and pressing against his abdomen, "Why do I have some horrible feeling about this mission? What are you trying to tell me, fate?" He'd been nervous before, but never had he experienced such dread before an assassination. Something in his mind, body or maybe his soul was urging him to turn back, to abandon everything and flee. Even his usual pre-mission 'herb' wouldn't quell this trepidation. "Bah." he shook himself and did some chest pounding, "Come on Taci, suck it up. It's just nerves, is all. Perfectly normal..." He rode onward, making the turn at the last fork he'd need to cross toward Eastvale. "Yeah... Perfectly normal..."

The camp, as it turned out, was actually an abandoned mining outpost. Eastvale's primary source of income was, of course, its iron supply, and these posts of varying size and population dotted the area around the city. Most were abandoned just like this one, and often played host to the homeless and less friendly sort of folk. Today, it was mercenaries. Tomorrow would bring hitmen much like Tacitus, or drug runners or slave traders. Taci had left his horse on the road a while back, as to not draw attention to himself. There were no guards watching the outpost's entrances, so it would be quite easy for him to sneak inside and find a good position to shoot from. The soldiers were camped out in the middle, the rundown buildings in no shape to comfortably house anyone but the poor and homeless. Tacitus spotted a series of large structures overlooking the merc tents-- a refinery of some sort, and probably storage buildings. It was as good of a vantage point as he was going to get, so he snuck his way inside and up to the top. The view was perfect. He could see the soldiers' ranks and their tents without any obstruction, and no one was thinking to look up at him. Still, he kept himself hidden for now. No sense in risking detection yet. The fox took the time to unpack his crossbow, unfolding the weapon's sides and locking them into place, then setting the string and loading the attached quiver with bolts. He was looking for a quick, clean job: sight, kill, escape. It was the ideal mission outcome for an assassin, and also the rarest occurrence in the profession. Once his weapon was unpacked, Tacitus took a moment to examine the soldiers themselves. Each soldier wore iron plate and chain, carrying a sword at his or her side, and a rifle in the hand. Upon closer inspection, Tacitus could see that they were the same model of rifle that he'd been shown in the corporate city of Ironhill: Repeat-shot with magazine-loaded ammo and powder. Pretty fancy stuff for mercenaries. After around twenty minutes, Taci sighted his target. Paleflame emerged from a tent, followed by two of his soldiers who lined up with the other mercs after a moment. The dragon was tall and imposing, and as Number One had said, he was fully suited in iron armor. Tacitus squinted to get a better look at his target, eyeing the spots where the armor plates and pieces met, trying to gauge a weak point. Once Paleflame turned around to face his men, Tacitus saw the spot he'd need to aim for. There was a spot on the back of the neck where Paleflame's armor didn't cover, presumably so that he could actually take the helmet off. It would be an instant kill shot if Taci could hit it, but it was a very small target. "Breathe, fox." he reminded himself, pulling back the string and loading the bow. He rested it on the edge of the building, taking aim through his sights and taking a slow, deep breath. He waited for Paleflame to come to a stop and expose his backside, then pulled the trigger. The world slowed. Tacitus' keen senses went into overdrive as the bolt took flight. All seemed well as the projectile cut through the air toward Paleflame's neck. It was right on target. Tacitus' heart thundered in his chest as the anticipation grew. Then, something happened. Paleflame seemed to react. His movements, most assuredly swift in real-time, still possessed an odd, supernatural speed to them in Tacitus' slowed perception of events. He began to turn, the lifeless eyeholes in his mask seeming to focus on the bolt in the air. The dragon's body moved to the left just as the projectile would have made its mark. The bolt landed in one of the other merc's flesh, knocking him backward into the ranks, but not before Paleflame could grab the soldier's gun and take aim at the assassin. Time began to accelerate once again, and Tacitus' senses returned to normal just as he moved his head aside, the tip of his cheek fur trimmed just lightly by a bullet. "Oh... fuck." He had no time to reload and attempt another shot. He dropped the weighty crossbow and took off in full sprint to the right, heading to another rooftop. Another gunshot rang out and hit the concrete edge of the building. Paleflame kept shooting, even as Tacitus leapt from the refinery roof, landing with a roll onto a storage house. Finally Tacitus found cover, jumping off the side of the building and ducking inside. He could hear footsteps approaching, and he knew the entirety of Paleflame's forces were closing in on him. He looked around for something... anything to help him out of this situation. The fox found luck in the form of a half-open box of flint-bombs. Some wannabe revolutionary or careless soldier must have left them there. It was better than nothing. He grabbed a couple and waited, hiding under the window and listening for the footsteps. When he figured they were sufficiently close enough, Tacitus pulled the pin from the bomb, igniting a spark inside which would (hopefully) light a fuse leading to a potent explosive. He threw the bomb through the window and held his ears. The resulting explosion rocked the building, and he could hear screaming and shouting outside. The fragmentation had knocked a bunch of the mercs off their feet, and Tacitus saw this as his way out. He primed another bomb and threw it, grabbing more and more of them and continuing to toss them at his pursuers. "Stop, you fools!" a loud, metallic voice called out among the other shouting. This was undoubtedly Paleflame's voice. "You're only wasting your lives. He's secured himself in there, but he won't last forever." "Yeah, that's what you think." Tacitus made his way over to a higher window, primed another bomb and threw long. The bomb landed in the middle of Paleflame's remaining men and exploded, sending shrapnel flying everywhere. This was his chance, if he was going to get one. Tacitus jumped through the window and unsheathed his daggers, running in full sprint toward Paleflame and striking at the point where his mask met his armor... only to have the blow parried by the dragon's broadsword. "Paleflame, I presume?" "Who wants to know?" the dragon sounded very young, but his apparent experience said otherwise. "The Grim Reaper." Tacitus backed off and went in for another strike, but this one was blocked as well. "You've surprised me, assassin. Your senses are different... Like mine. You don't see many people with that level of skill in the world." Paleflame forced the fox back and held his sword ready, "However, as impressive as you are, it'd be far too risky to let you live. No hard feelings." "Oh, don't worry. You won't have to make that decision." Tacitus surprised the dragon with a throwing dagger, the blade lodging itself in his mask's eyehole, opening him up for a full-on tackle. Paleflame stumbled backward and barely managed to catch the assassin's wrist as he struck again, his big, metal-clad fist connecting with Tacitus' cheek and knocking him to the side. "What the hell gives?" Taci rubbed at his cheek and shook his head to clear his vision, "Do you not have eyes or something?" Paleflame took hold of the throwing knife and pulled it out, baffling Tacitus with the lack of blood or reaction from his opponent, "Not all is as it seems, hitman." The fox spat and tugged his hood down to keep his face obscured, gripping his daggers tightly and scanning around for a weak point, "So you wear the helmet as a diversion. Clever trick. Or are you some kind of golem? An avatar or homunculus, maybe?" "You'll not live to discover it, assassin." the dragon stomped on the butt of one of his men's rifles, causing it to flip up into the air, then caught it in his hands and took aim. Once again, Tacitus' senses focused. In an instant, his mind calculated the path of the bullet before it even exited the barrel, and he brought up his dagger to deflect it. The rounded projectile bounced off the blade and flew off to the side. "Impressive, once again." Paleflame fired again, again, and again, each shot ricocheting off of Tacitus' dagger, until the fifth shot shattered the blade, sending fragments of metal into Tacitus' under armor. The dragon laughed and aimed down the sight once more, "Your luck's run out." Tacitus knew he'd be finished if he got hit point-blank like this, so reason was no longer a priority in his mind. He tossed all caution to the wind and ran straight at Paleflame, grabbing the barrel of the gun and turning it just as it fired, the bullet harmlessly embedding itself into the soil. "Let's see what you really look like under that mask!" the assassin used the force of his momentum to knock Paleflame off his feet, grabbing for the iron helmet and ripping it off. The helmet was far larger than it looked, encompassing the dragon's head, neck and shoulders. Tacitus wrenched it from his opponent's body all the same and threw it aside, lifting his second dagger and preparing to strike at Paleflame's neck... but stopped. What he saw under that helmet was no dragon. It was... "Jenna..?" Tacitus' arm froze in midair, the other one slowly reaching up to pull back his hood, as if he'd expected it to have suddenly cast some kind of illusion over him. Her fur was matted in places, and some had scar tissue where the burns from her youth had stunted fur growth... It really was her. The vixen's eyes opened, having been squinted shut as she watched the assassin's blade raise. Her eyes widened in disbelief when she saw who was under that mask, "Tacitus..?" The two simply sat there, staring in profound bewilderment. Jenna, who Tacitus believed to have died when her house burned to the ground. Tacitus, the man who Jenna surely would not have expected to turn out as a hired killer! Neither could move or speak for a long, silent moment. Jenna was the first to move... and boy did she move. Her ironclad fist once again hit Tacitus in the face, her other hand gripping her broadsword, "No. You're not Tacitus. Someone's out to get me, and somehow they knew to use your image!" "N-No, Jenna, it's me..!" Taci stumbled to his feet and rubbed his nose, "Gods... you still hit as hard as ever. Or maybe that's just because your fist weighs as much as a fair-sized boulder now..." The armored vixen stumbled over words, and Tacitus saw the realization begin to creep into her expression. Slowly, she seemed to be coming to the conclusion that it was indeed her old friend standing before her. Tacitus laughed a little bit and sniffled, his nose still throbbing in pain, "I can't believe it... You're alive. Where have you--" "Why are you here?" her question was direct and... rather forceful, "To kill me?" "W-Well, I was--" "Who sent you? Or did someone hire you?" she pointed her sword at Tacitus threateningly, "Or maybe you... came here to do it all on your own, huh?" "Jenna, wait!" he raised his hands in defense, dropping his dagger and taking a few steps back, "I had no idea who was under that mask!" "You..." Jenna's voice quivered, tears forming in her eyes, "Why, Tacitus..." "Jenna... I'm sorry, I didn't know." "Why didn't you save me, Tacitus?" Those words hurt... bad. He put one hand to his heart and clutched at his cloak and armor, his eyes cast down at the ground, "I tried..." "Yeah, you tried. Tried to pull me out of the fire... but then you ran away. You ran away from everything, didn't you?" He didn't argue that. It was true, after all. "You never knew, did you? Never knew that I'd survived." her hand shook, the sword clutched in her fingers trembling with it, "You threw everything away without a thought." "That's not true!" he finally retorted, "Yes, I threw my old life away, but I think about you all the time. All the... fucking time!" "You sure didn't think of me when you left Duskden." "You haunt everything, Jenna. Every time I close my eyes, I see your face. Every dream I have is of you. I zone out during the day and... lapse into the days I had with you." Tacitus sighed, barely whispering, "I relive every mistake I made with you." Jenna finally lowered her weapon, though her voice remained as cold as the iron she was dressed in, "Your guilty conscience at work. I didn't think murderers had such a thing." "Yeah, so I'm an assassin now. Look at you. I bet you've done some pretty goddamn horrible things to people." "I just never felt bad about it." Jenna took a few steps toward him, "That doesn't matter, though. Where do we stand, Tacitus?" The vulpine assassin looked down again, "I... don't know. I'm happy you're alive, but you don't seem very happy to see me." "What do you want me to say, Tacitus? I loved you." the vixen's eyes filled with tears, "I survived that fire through willpower alone. Had you not been in my thoughts, I'd have given up and died that day. Then I wake up the next day and... find out you're gone? That you've deserted from the military and are nowhere to be found? Why should I be anything but furious at you?" "Jenna, I..." he fought back his own tears, knowing that nothing could ever justify abandoning everyone he ever knew and loved, "I couldn't face it, Jenna. I couldn't face... you. Your grave. Duskden and everyone living there became a black stain that would never be bright again. I had to get out... I had to run." "You promised, Taci." her armored fist squeezed the hilt of her sword, "You promised me you'd come back, no matter what! That you'd protect me!" "I told you, I tried!" "No you didn't!" she stepped forward and pressed her blade against his throat, a pinhead's distance away from his fur, "Yes, you tried to save me from the fire... but you left me an emotional wreck. You betrayed me to save your own soul from the guilt of failure. What kind of a man are you!" Tacitus was on the verge of a nervous breakdown. His body shook, and he felt as if his legs would give out. He found himself retreating from her blade, backing up and stumbling over one of the merc corpses strewn about the floor, "No..." "You left me to care for your heartbroken family and live with the horrible disfigurement of my face, my fur..." "No!" "Yes!" Jenna followed after him as he crawled backward, stabbing her sword at the cloak between his legs, pinning the cloth, and therefore the assassin wearing it, to the ground, "I couldn't take it anymore. I couldn't live in Duskden either... because of what you turned it into." If he hadn't had fur, Taci's face would have been devoid of color. He'd turned his back on everyone when they'd needed him the most. He felt sick, and his vision spun and blurred. He felt incredibly heavy. The weight of his sins, perhaps. "Look at you." Jenna said, her voice softening a little bit, "What have you become, Tacitus? You're as emotionally damaged as I am, aren't you?" "I'm so sorry Jenna..." Tacitus covered his face in his sleeve and began to shake, "Goddammit, I'm sorry..." The vixen's cold expression broke into one of sorrow. She lowered her gaze and turned away from him, "Tacitus... stop crying. It doesn't suit you at all." He didn't answer. He was lost in despair, lost in hindsight. All the things he could have done differently, to save himself... to save Jenna... nagged at him and taunted him in his mind. Why hadn't he stayed? Why hadn't he manned up and stayed in Duskden to say a proper goodbye? Why had he been so selfish? Jenna watched him for a long moment, then pulled her sword from the soil and prodded him with the dull side of it, "Get up." Tacitus slowly complied, hauling himself up from the ground. He looked quite surprised when Jenna offered her hand to help him. "Taci... I can't hate you." the vixen sighed and stuck her sword in the ground next to her, "I loved you. I still love you." she smiled for the first time since they'd met that day, "And I am so... happy to see you again." "Jenna..." Tacitus' heart hurt, but it was that odd, pleasant kind of hurt. The gentle sting of overwhelming emotion. He stepped forward and put his arms around his friend, "My life ended when I saw your house collapse around you... I've been a walking corpse since then, but now I... I'm..." "Shh." Jenna unfastened her upper armor, letting it fall to the ground behind her and between them. She wore a plain brown tunic beneath. "Don't speak. Don't fret, don't apologize... don't be sad anymore." It was like Heaven had shone all its light down upon him. Tacitus was elated. All of the pain in his memories seemed to melt away as he embraced his friend as he had in years past. He couldn't speak, couldn't cry, couldn't even move. Merely existing in her presence right now was overwhelmingly pleasant. "Hey." the vixen said, taking hold of his chin and tilting his head up to kiss him. Tacitus might have been exhausted, and Jenna covered in sweat and gunpowder from bombs exploding around her, but neither seemed to care. To them, it was the best kiss they'd ever shared, and the best they ever would. "Whoever hired you is going to be pissed." "They can fuck off." Taci said, nuzzling her cheek gently, "They don't need to know you're still alive. Hell, if they come here and see a bunch of dead mercs and a dragon mask, they'll really think I killed Paleflame." Jenna giggled, "I guess they would, huh?" "What was with that name, anyway? Seems a little dramatic, even for you." "You don't remember?" she huffed and bapped him on the nose, "When we were real little and my grandma would watch us... and sing us to sleep. Remember that song she'd always sing?" "I... kind of." Jenna smiled and took a slow breath, her voice still beautiful despite her hardships in the past:

Sleep now, little one, in the darkness of night But don't you be afraid, for tomorrow's not far Bask in the pale flame, in its sheltering light My love will protect you, wherever you are

"Gods, it's been forever... I can't believe I forgot about that." "You'll have plenty of time to remember, Taci." Jenna slowly pulled away from their embrace and picked up her sword to sheathe it, "Well... you killed all my men, stopped my campaign against Eastvale, and as far as your employers know, you killed me. What do we do now?" Tacitus rubbed his temples and looked off toward the horizon. There weren't too many options open for him. For her, though... "You should go back to Duskden, Jenna." "What? Why?" "No one knows you were Paleflame. You can live there. Hell, maybe you could even be happy again." She tugged on his arm, "Come with me then." "I can't do that." "And why the hell not? If I can be happy there, then surely you can, too." "It's not that simple." he pulled away and picked his intact dagger up from the ground, "I'm part of the Silent Hand now, Jenna. I can't just quit. I'd become a liability. A threat to their security. I doubt I need to tell you what they do to people deemed as such." "Then why did you even take this job?" "I thought my life was over. I had no qualms with throwing what little I had left away." Jenna sighed and crossed her arms, "I don't know, Taci..." "We can both live on happily, knowing the other's alive... right?" he tried his best to smile. Simply knowing wouldn't be enough for him, at least in the long term... but he wouldn't tell her that. "Happily... I'm not so sure of. But I can be content, I guess." she matched that half-hearted smile and took his hand, "Alright. It's not perfect, and it's not what we want, but... it's the best we can do. Right?" "Right." he wasn't really satisfied with this outcome, but it would have to do. Knowing things would be ok for the both of them in the end brought him far more joy than he could have hoped for. They decided to ride together to Duskden. It was a few days' ride, but neither of them cared. More time for them to spend together before the inevitably parted. They made their way back toward Tacitus' horse. "You think mom and dad will be happy to see me?" Jenna asked, holding onto Taci's arm as they walked, "I kind of left on a bad note..." The assassin chuckled, "What do you think my parents are going to say? I think you'll get off easy." They stopped short when they reached the tree where Tacitus had tied his horse. The beast of burden lay on its side, an arrow in its neck. "What the hell..." Tacitus ran over to check for any evidence of who might have shot it. Both foxes drew their weapons. "You were alone, right?" "Yeah. Could have just been a random act of violence, but..." A gunshot rang out, and the two move together, scanning the area quickly. "Who's there?" Tacitus yelled, looking in the direction the shot had come from. A cloaked figure stepped out from the cover of a large boulder, a rifle held in one hand. He had the look of a thin, almost emaciated male, the hint of a tail swishing at the back of his cloak. Two yellow eyes shone out from under his hood in a feline manner. "I've been waiting for a chance like this, Tacitus Bren." he said, pointed teeth showing a twisted grin, "You know who I am." Tacitus leaned forward, ears pointing straight upward when he suddenly recognized that voice, "Cyrus?" "So you remember!" the feline named Cyrus removed his hood. He was tiger-striped, though Tacitus recalled that he wasn't a full tiger. Some half-breed of something or other. The cat took a few steps forward, "That's good, because I remember you." "Who is this creep, Taci?" Jenna stood next to her friend, sword at the ready. Tacitus snorted a little bit, "Cyrus Penn. He was an assassin of the Silent Hand, just like me. That is, until they decided that he was a little too fucked in the head, even for them. So they tried to kill him. Little bastard's ability to escape matches the level of his psychosis." "That's the story!" Cyrus said with that maniacal grin, "They sent every able-bodied assassin they could spare to hunt me down. Tacitus was the last. One of the few that survived, actually. Out of all of them, though, he was the only one who managed to leave any marks." Tacitus watched as Cyrus parted his cloak and brought his tail forward. The tip was stitched rather sloppily and looked quite uncomfortable and sickly. The fox smirked a little, "So you did wind up removing a good bit of it. I thought you would, after I basically sliced it in half." "Well maybe I'll just take yours when I'm done here today." Cyrus loaded the second shot into his gun, "I have to say, I'm impressed with these rifles. How much did the vixen pay for each one?" "They're worth more than your body, that's for sure." Jenna spat, looking to Taci momentarily. Their exchanged glance was understood perfectly between the two of them: They were at a horrible disadvantage with him at range. The tiger took aim, switching back and forth between his two targets, "Now which one of you will I kill first? Maybe the Hand will pay me for Paleflame's death as well. Even if they don't, someone in Astyria will." Tacitus focused his senses. He could see Cyrus' muscles tensing as he decided to take his shot. The barrel was on Taci, much to his relief. He'd already lost Jenna once, and he wasn't going to risk it again. Tacitus blocked the first shot as he'd done earlier, then countered with a throwing dagger. The blade spun through the air and lodged itself in Cyrus' arm, causing him to reel. The two vulpine fighters took their chance. They ran forward, disarming the former assassin, Jenna going in for the kill with her sword. Cyrus' escape mastery saved his life, though, the feline tumbling away from the blade and drawing his daggers, "Oh, so you don't want to go down easily, do you?" "Neither of us is going to lay down and die for someone like you. Not after what we've been through." Taci held his dagger and another throwing knife. He already missed his broken dagger. "Very well then." Cyrus leapt at the other assassin and struck high with both daggers. Taci blocked easily and held him there, leaving him open for a kick from Jenna's metal-clad leg. The tiger stumbled to the side and growled, showing displeasure for the first time, "You know what they say about two against one, don't you?" "Life's a bitch like that, isn't it?" Jenna decided to follow through, launching a flurry of attacks with her broadsword, trying to keep the cat off balance so Tacitus could get a strike in. The vulpine assassin saw his opportunity down below. He ran in from the side and took a sweeping kick at Cyrus' legs, only for the feline to do a forward flip over Jenna's head. However, this would prove to be his undoing. Jenna reversed her sword and stabbed behind, catching the tiger in the lower back. There was a sound of steel cutting through flesh, followed by Cyrus' pained gasp. The tiger crumpled to the floor and groaned... then fell silent. Tacitus watched Cyrus for a long moment. The wound looked fatal, but assassins were tricky like that. "Crazy bastard could have lived a nice life, had he not come after us." "You make the most wonderful friends, Taci." Jenna sighed and rubbed the back of her neck. She gave a wary look at their opponent's body and walked over to examine him. She raised her blade and used her foot to turn him over... Another gunshot rang out. Jenna froze. Her eyes met those of the crazed and still living Cyrus, then moved down to her abdomen. A small, circular hole punctured her tunic and flesh. Blood began to soak her outfit. Tacitus' body froze up. He could only watch as Jenna collapsed to the floor and Cyrus attempted to get to his feet, dropping his spent pistol on the ground. "You really ought to be more careful, vixen." the tiger laughed and kicked Jenna's curled up form, "Not that you'll get the chance now..." Taci's entire body burned. The rage coursing through his blood exceeded that of when he'd discovered the conspirators behind Duskden's arson attack. His senses went into overtime, and world practically stood still. He must have been sprinting in real time, but each movement in his perception was agonizingly slow. An enraged roar filled the air as he closed the distance to Cyrus. His eyes followed the dagger in his hand as it thrust forward, embedding itself in his foe's neck. The dagger withdrew and thrust forward again, this time puncturing his chest. He struck again, again and again, time gradually speeding up in his perception once more. Tacitus brutalized Cyrus' motionless, bleeding form long after he'd passed out from blood loss and succumbed to his injuries. Only when he felt Jenna take hold of his ankle did his blind rage subside. Only then did he realize that that furious howl was coming from his own throat. "T-Tacitus..." "Jenna..." he threw his dagger aside and tended to his friend, his hands shaking more violently than ever. He shook his head, not wanting to believe what had just happened, "No... No, this can't... You can't..." "Taci..." Jenna winced a little bit and took his hands, "It's... for the best." "Bullshit!" tears flowed freely from his eyes, "I came all this way and found out you were alive, just for... just for...!" She hushed him softly and swallowed hard, trying not to cry herself, "Tacitus, please... Don't be angry now. Don't... be sad." It took all of his willpower to calm himself, to claim control over his emotions. He squeezed Jenna's hands and kissed them both, then leaned down to kiss her on her lips, "Jenna, I... I love you." "I love you too, Tacitus... and I'm glad I got to see you one last time." she smiled genuinely, starting to cry a little herself, "I'm sorry I caused you such grief. I hope your memories of me will be more... happy... from now on." Taci nodded and bit his lip, squeezing her hands harder, as if it would somehow keep her from ultimately parting from her body. He took a deep breath and hung his head, "I'm sorry I couldn't save you, Jenna..." "Bullshit." the vixen freed one of her hands and reached up to stroke his cheek, "You did save me... my knight." Jenna tugged on his sleeve, to which Taci responded with lifting her into his arms. The vixen began to hum, and the two sang together in unison: Sleep now, little one, in the darkness of night But don't you be afraid, for tomorrow's not far Bask in the pale flame, in its sheltering light My love will protect you, wherever you are

The pair fell silent. Jenna's breaths slowly grew fainter and softer, until they ceased. Tacitus lost himself to tears, sobbing softly into his friend's fur. She'd told him that he'd saved her... but never had he felt more like he'd failed. Fate had given him a reason to truly live again, then cruelly ripped it from his hands. No matter how tight he clung to it, that gift was gone now. He gently set Jenna's body down and picked up his dagger, staring down at it and flipping it around so that the blade was facing downward. "Jenna..." he raised the blade and shut his eyes tight, "I'm tired of walking the world, dead as the men I slay. If the only way to live again is to die with you, then..." he hesitated and took a deep breath, "Then I choose death!" Just as he started to take the plunge, he felt a hand grab at his wrist. He didn't pause to see who'd interrupted him. All he wanted to do was fight for that dagger, growling and crying out in anger and despair, "Stop! Let go! I can't go on anymore! Not like this!" A sharp slap connected with his cheek, and he fell sideways. Whoever had hit him finally managed to disarm him as well. "Tacitus, you fucking creep!" a familiar female voice scolded him, and he was slapped again, "What the fuck do you think I'd do if you died!" Taci winced as he was hit over and over again. Only when he felt his "attacker" slump against his chest did the slapping stop, and he opened his eyes. It was Lore. She'd arrived just in time to stop him from taking his life. Another cruel joke played by fate, perhaps... or maybe a meager act of kindness. "Why, Taci?" the gecko woman sobbed loudly into his chest and hit him with half-hearted punches, "Why would you even think of doing something so selfish?" Tacitus couldn't speak. He'd forgotten all about Lore in that moment of utter despair, and that only made him feel even worse about the whole thing. Slowly he put his arms around her and clung tightly to her shaking form. Lore's sobbing stopped rather quickly when she felt him holding her so tight. She sighed heavily and reached up to brush her hand through his hair, "Taci... it's ok. Just let it all out." The fox reached his limit right at that moment. He held his friend almost painfully tight, squeezed his eyes shut... and screamed.

They rode back on Lore's horse. She'd been sent to follow after Tacitus due to a scout reporting sightings of a traitor to the Hand. Of course, the traitor in question had been Cyrus. She was supposed to provide backup if necessary, but by the time she'd arrived, Cyrus and Paleflame were both dead, and Tacitus was just getting ready to follow him... or her, as it turned out. Tacitus explained to Lore what had happened and why they had to go to Duskden, and he'd thanked her a vastly unnecessary amount of times for going out of her way for him. He wouldn't dodge responsibility anymore. The journey to Duskden was made mostly in silence. Lore uncomfortably drove the horse, glancing back at her friend every hour or so. Often enough, he'd have his eyes glued to Jenna's body, wrapped delicately in Tacitus' cloak. Lore knew to give him his space, though, so she kept her mouth shut through the majority of the trip. Taci's arrival in Duskden was met with conflicting emotions. His parents and old friends were happy to see him return, but Jenna's cold, lifeless body clutched in his arms silenced any joyous cheers. The Swift family, while devastated by the news of their daughter's death, thanked Tacitus for returning her home for burial. "I always knew you were a good man, Tacitus." Mrs. Swift said, hugging him, "I would have wanted to run away, too... No one here begrudges you for what you did." The fox shook his head, "I wish you did, ma'am." "Why should I" "Because someone has to." The customary burial in Duskden was cremation, and Jenna's funeral would follow that tradition. The body was treated by Duskden's resident priest; first bathed in holy water, then drained of blood and prepared with embalming fluids. Prayers were said over the body, the soul blessed for its passage to the afterlife. The day of the funeral was not fitting in the least. The sun was out, and not a cloud hung in the air. The flowers planted in the graveyard smelled sickeningly sweet. This was not a good day for mourning... at least Taci didn't feel like it. "Today, friends, family and loved ones come to bid farewell to one of our most beloved residents of Duskden, taken from us far, far too early in life." The priest seemed to drone on to Tacitus. His words were all so... rehearsed. Artificial. Nothing could be said about Jenna that people weren't already thinking. "She was strong, brave and kind..." No one would speak of her time as a mercenary. None would say a thing of the men and women she must have killed. Not a word of it would be uttered, because only Tacitus knew these things. He would live and die without sharing that knowledge with anyone but the gecko who'd saved him from his own dagger. The priest finished the ceremony, and people lined up to pay their respects to the deceased. Tacitus stood at the end. He still wasn't ready to say goodbye... to watch her cease to exist in this world. He wouldn't run away, though. He would face her one final time, even if it killed him. The line slowly shortened until Tacitus' turn was next. He knelt by Jenna's body, dressed and tended to so... perfectly. She was as beautiful in death as she was in life. The assassin took a deep breath and let it out slowly, "What can I say that I haven't already said, Jenna?" he brushed over her hair gently, "I wish things could have ended better for you... for us. But I can't change the past. All I can do is try and do better." The fox thought of Lore, of how he nearly abandoned her for his own selfish escape from life. "I'll never take the easy way out again, Jenna. Never. I swear this to you. Right here, upon your final resting place. I'll do the right thing from now on." He kissed Jenna's cheek one final time and fought back tears, "But I can't promise you that I'll get better fast. I can't promise that I'll be ok with all this." he looked back at the funerary gathering, at the gravestone they'd prepared, then finally back to his friend, "We both died that day, Jenna. I'll never walk Sekhem as a living man again." Tacitus stood and produced a single white flower from his pocket, sliding the stem between her thumb and index finger, "I'll miss you... princess." The final stage of the funeral began. Jenna's body was placed on a pyre and was slowly allowed to burn to ash. Part of Tacitus hated this. It evoked strong, unpleasant memories of the house fire. He said nothing of it, though. He watched the flames from the very beginning, to the moment where the last ember flickered away. The vixen's ashes were gathered in a beautiful clay urn and given to her parents. Tacitus never did find out what they did with them, whether they chose to keep them in the urn or scatter them somewhere. His presence in Duskden was too great of a risk to his friends and family for him to stay any longer. So he left again... but this time he did it properly. Tearful goodbyes were said, and hugs and kisses exchanged. The fox's mother told him she was proud of him, in spite of things. She didn't know. She couldn't. Tacitus could never tell his parents what he was and who he worked for. "Will we ever see you again?" his father asked. Taci hesitated, climbing up on the horse and helping Lore up to settle in behind him. He smiled to his parents and gave an affirmative nod, "I'll visit whenever I feel it's safe. I promise." The two assassins rode out of Duskden that night. Tacitus brought the horse into a gallop, heading back to the Hand's secret base. "Listen... Lore..." he started, trying to choose his words carefully, "I'm sorry I--" "You don't have to apologize, Taci." the gecko responded, sounding quite tired. She was falling asleep against his back, "I'd have probably tried to... do that, too. You don't think when you're in that state of mind." "Lore." he looked back and reached for her hand, "I'll never abandon you. I promise." Lore blinked a couple times, then smiled and cuddled closer to her friend, "Just focus on you for a while, foxyfox. I know you'll need some time." "Thanks Lore..." Taci tried to keep his thoughts clear of Jenna for now. It was a long ride back home. The world felt a little less empty to him now, but Tacitus would press on. For Jenna's sake. For Lore's. For his own.