With their heads bowed as a sign of submission of both the soul and body, knelt before the altar that held high the image of Jesus Christ, the crowd mumbled along with the priest their final prayers as they all took their own personal rosaries, planted a kiss in it, ending the day’s morning routine. A woman no older than 32 years old remained with her head bowed a few minutes longer than the rest. Her fair hair covered by a white, almost translucent veil that met with the back of her dark green dress. A devoted woman she was and she always made sure that everyone knew that. Behind her stood a tall man with a severe expression on his face next to three children of varying ages. While they found the woman’s insistence annoying they still knew better than to interrupt her in a moment of communion with God.
The woman finally stood up and turned to face her family with a warm and gracious smile. She certainly felt blessed for being able to have birthed such wonderful children and to a wonderful husband. Today was one of those good days she knew everything would work out well for them. The youngest of the children, a small girl that went by the name Maria, walked towards her mother and took her by the hand. The woman gladly took the child’s hand in her own and turned to her husband. “We should go to the confession booth, Domenico,” her voice was as soft as a bird’s song in the morning, very fitting for a mother and a wife. “We should start this week with a clean slate, all of us together, as a family.”
Domenico did not have the heart to deny the woman; however he had more important matters at hand than speaking to a priest and donating money to the church as penitence. “Magdalena, you know that under other circumstances I would gladly accompany you this morning, but today Florence is waiting to advance, and I am the man for the job.” Things have been going exquisitely well for the family, after all. Just a few things to get out of the way first and then everything would go smoothly. Magdalena’s face showed the obvious disappointment she felt towards her husband’s rejection, but the oldest child, Giorgio, stepped forward taking his younger brother by the arm, volunteering to keep their mother company while Domenico left for their home. It was unusual for him to leave his family behind, but he trusted his son to protect his family. After all, it was expected of Giorgio to become a soldier; the young man had the strength and the talent and the brains to become a great strategist. With the expansion of Florence, they would certainly need a stronger army.
Within minutes and without minding any of the walking salesmen that got in his way, Domenico reached his home in the center of the city. He settled to wait in the patio for his foreign guest to arrive. Soon enough, he thought to himself.
---
When the ship finally docked, the large bearded man stepped out of it with a resolve and confidence that could have made anyone believed that he owned and belong to any land he stepped on. His bright clothes matched the turban that decorated his head, and behind him his men had already begun to unload the several boxes of merchandise he had ready to sell in Florence. Call him a gypsy or whatever name and slur you could think of, but the man had a deep love for travelling to new places, making business and hitting the markets, either to sell or to buy. His family back home always appreciated every single gift he brought for them and certainly the money he added to the family’s funds. Florence had become the perfect city to feed his hobbies, so much so that he had already found a business partner that resided in the city and only through letters and references only. Yes. This was certainly good news for Imran.
---
The impenetrable silence of the night made the man’s quiet steps even more imperceptible. Cold wind blew through the entire city and cut right through the man’s coat, reminding him that he needed a new one with urgency. The bastion was eerily unguarded; the man had certainly expected to meet some resistance by now, but maybe he was just that good. He searched inside his pocket and pulled out a small paper. He had written down the mission when it was given to him earlier that day. He often found it hard to remember who it was he had to deal with in the middle of the action and he was not a fan of targeting innocent people. But tonight’s mission was simple enough. The head of the East-West division guard, in the White Pearl Bastion, had been getting away with murders, rape and other crimes for a very long time, always protected under the veil of the law, so it was up to the man to fix that.
He nodded. He could do this and without any incidents.
He decided to climb the northern wall, as it led directly to the captain’s personal chambers, if he wasn’t mistaken. The full moon shone with an intensity the man hadn’t seen before and for the first time in the night he feared his intrusion would be noted. As soon as he set foot at the top of the wall, he found out there was nothing to worry about. Most of the men were asleep after all, and the ones who weren’t were talking to one another or on their way to go to Dream Land as well. A few steps to the left and the man found the entrance to the tower, open and almost inviting him to go inside. It didn’t take long for him to follow the sounds of the obnoxious snoring and identify it as the captain’s. The man shook his head and didn’t bother to debate whether or not he should leave any traces of his murder behind. He retraced a dagger from his belt and with a single, smooth swish of the blade the man tore up the captain’s jugular and throat. He deserved to drown in his own blood for the crimes he had committed.
Once that was over, it didn’t take much time for the man to return to the city. He made sure to change his clothes in an alleyway before letting anyone see him in his ‘work’ outfit. A simple robe would suffice; it was the coat that would give him away. By the time he arrived to his destination, it was almost noon and he knew his day would be as busy as his night was. He was already dreading the exhaustion that would come with today’s hard work. He knelt before the altar and instinctively did the Sign of the Cross before it. He stood up and walked towards the third confessional booth to the left, ready to speak out his own sins. He sat inside and did not even bother to see the face of the stoic old man in front of him. He already knew who he was.
“Forgive me, Father,” Abel began, closing his eyes and letting a smirk decorate his face. “For I have sinned.”
The job was done.
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Subject: Deep Within the Shadows (Magus and Toph#s Collab) 
Sun Oct 14, 2012 10:55 pm
