The Tales of the Fabled Assassin
Chapter 1: An Ordinary Day

The sight was ominous and bespoke of a terrible atrocity that would soon befall the onlooker as he gazed into the scene unfolding before him.  There was darkness so vast that it went on as if for eternity and the sound of thunder could be heard in the distance as if sealing the very fate of whoever heard it.  A maniacal laughter was soon making itself known to the spectator and it gave him goosebumps so intense that he shivered and jerked at the sound.  The mysterious figure raised a hand and on his backhand there was a symbol etched on his black glove.  It was a triangle but upon closer inspection it wasn't any ordinary triangle but a majestic one at that.  The symbol was shaped oddly for its shape for it took on the appearance of an ancient artifact with its three sides only to be separated in the middle with a transparent triangle the top triangle glowed a bright yellow while the rest remained without illumination.  The onlooker opened his mouth as if to gasp but no audible noise escaped him only the increasing acoustics of the mysterious figure's maniacal laughter as he shot a particle of magical proportions.  

Alastair awoke panting and in a profound sweat at having had the very same nightmare for the third time in a row since his sixteenth birthday.  He couldn't decipher the contents of his dream or why he was having this particular one at all but one thing remained certain, it was no coincidence.  Alastair was no fool and in fact was keenly intelligent despite his obvious laziness and sometimes his not too subtle ignorant way of speaking with people.  He frowned which caused his forehead to crease showing off wrinkles on his youthful face.  It was early in the morning that meant another day of training with his personal mentor but Alastair had become accustomed to his lessons as it was only building him into a strong, lithe and athletic man as well as shaping him into a disciplined individual.  Still, Alastair groaned because he was still slightly sore from his previous sparring match with his mentor and to put it bluntly, he honestly hated feeling uncomfortable more than anything else.  

There was a knock on his door and the loud voice of Tavin accompanied by "Alastair!  Are you awake yet?  You don't want to be late to another training session with your mentor, do you? Wake up, Alastair!" A muffled scream of frustration could be heard on the other side of the door, which could only mean that Alastair had screamed into his pillow.  Getting up and making sure to neatly fix his hair which always looked highly eccentric in the morning, and to throw on a pair of greaves, pants, and a white shirt and his favorite vest, Alastair opened his door and greeted Tavin politely "I'm up, you didn't need to yell.  I was just thinking about a strange dream I had.  That's all…".  Tavin was a kind local hermit who resided in a cabin located in the deep woods and he raised Alastair from when he was only six months old.  Tavin sighed as if this was routine and Alastair gave him a look of sheepish apology even though it couldn't be helped.  "Look, Alastair.  You need to get going to the village.  Today is finally the day where you are an apprentice no more and I'm sure Lance is waiting for you to arrive.  Go grab a bottle of milk and eat your breakfast.  You'll need your strength today!"  After his little speech Tavin left Alastair to his own devices and retreated back downstairs after making sure that Alastair was truly awake and understood the importance of the day.  At times like these Alastair loathed his father figure but knew that deep down it was only for his own good.  

With renewed self-esteem Alastair bounded down the stairs where he quickly grabbed a bottle of milk and ate some breakfast but not too much.  His breakfast mainly consisted of softly baked bread and cheese.  After he finished, Alastair quickly went to his room and gathered the items he was sure he would need today including his sword and sheath, pouch of money, and a map of the general area.  Truth be told, Alastair had an unnatural sense of direction but he was also paranoid and would often become doubtful so he always brought his map with him in case the unthinkable ever happened and he were to get lost.  With everything at the ready, Alastair bid farewell to Tavin who vaguely waved back as Alastair retreated into the surrounding forest around the cabin.  After confirming his position and destination on the map he equipped himself with, Alastair began the long trek to his hometown of Vividiorque.  During his walk to the village Alastair couldn't help but dwell on his nightmare as it greatly troubled him.  

Who was that mysterious man?  What did he want?  Why was there a strange symbol on the back of his hand?  Why have I been having this nightmare consecutively?  The more questions he asked himself the more answers he sought but alas, it was all in vain for no one answered any of his concerns.  The deep woods were lush and vibrant scenery with many gigantic trees, a vast river, springs, a big lake and many different kinds of animals.  Alastair found himself sighing with happiness as he observed the beautiful forest for which he has traveled for so long.  Moments later Alastair had made it to Vividiorque village with only seconds to spare as his mentor; Lance beckoned him with a shout "ALASTAIR!  Over here!".  Hearing this and smiling in spite of himself Alastair obeyed his mentor's wishes and came closer.  

Alastair's strides were long and graceful as he walked to his mentor and upon interactive distance he settled next to Lance with a spring in his step.  Confusion marred his features as Lance gazed into Alastair's eyes seeing the mirth in them, he did not expect his student to be so obedient and cooperative today.  "What has got into you today, child?  I know you're a kind hearted boy but you're never this jovial when it comes to your training!"  With a lopsided grin that stretched across Alastair's handsome features he proceeded to grasp his mentor by the shoulders and shake him lightly whilst stating, "Of course I am in a good mood mentor!  I'm graduating to Mastership!  Do you know what this means?  I am the youngest villager to ever join the Regnorian army and the most skilled!"  Lance smirked in playful banter and gently shoved Alastair aside.  "Pass the trials before you first and then you can chase after your ambitions."  It was no secret that Alastair was overconfident and highly full of himself, nevertheless, being quick to retaliate he followed Lance into what he called "The Never Ending Trials" but it was actually a stadium which resembled a gladiator pit.  Passing a sign that read Institutione Orbis the writing itself was in the Regnorian language, which Alastair just so happened to be fluent in.