I don’t know what Tom went through in his youth, and I have no wish to find out.

-Gawain Sharpe

The monastery was burning around them, and the boy glared at the monk sitting in front of him in his private chambers.

The boy grated out, “Your monks are all dead. This place is burning. Don’t bother to resist.” He held a loaded crossbow aimed at the monk’s head.

The head monk replied calmly, as though he was not staring death in the face, “I knew this day would come, but never would I have known that my killer would be so callous as to claim the innocent lives of my fellow monks, let alone destroy all we have built. Why? After we had given you sanctuary and food?”

The boy explained, “Because my identity would have been compromised, and I don’t wish anybody to know there’s a 14 year old killer running around. So all of them had to die. Don’t worry, I used a quick acting poison in their food. They won’t feel a thing, and you’ll be joining them soon.”

“Still, a boy of your age… You should be in a school studying. Or on a farm working with your parents.”

“I have no parents.” The boy shot back, his tone carrying an undercurrent of rage, “I am almost alone in this world, and the world wishes me dead. I spite the rest of the universe with my survival.”

“Obviously you have been wronged in the past…”

“Wronged?” the boy laughed mirthlessly, “Wronged? For all I have gone through, wronged is a very nice euphemism!”

“And now you seek revenge.” The monk seemed to see through him in that single moment, and 91 felt his inner rage build.

“So what? Revenge is the only thing that keeps me alive, something to live for.”

“And your hatred will consume you one day. Is it worth it?”

The boy said with firm conviction, “As long as I attain my vengeance, yes.”

The monk shook his head sadly, “Put down your sword of slaughter, and seek enlightenment. Or else be damned forever.”

“I am already damned.” He pressed the trigger on the crossbow. The bolt slammed into the monk’s forehead, killing him instantly. He forced himself not to feel anything for his act of murder. The monks had taken him in, given him food and shelter, and he had repaid them with death. But he knew if he did not do this, somebody else would have. It made no difference in the long run.

The boy leaned down with a knife to saw off the monk’s head, in order to collect the reward. He lifted up the bodiless head by its hair, still bleeding on the stump of the neck downwards, placed it inside a box he had prepared, and left the burning monastery.

Walking out of the building, he could feel the heat from behind him. He put two fingers to his mouth and whistled. A mongrel dog came running out at him, its tongue hanging out as he leaned down and ruffled its fur. It barked happily at its master. His best friend for the past year.

91 had hardened. He had barely enough money to get to Caph, a world in the grip of anarchy and savage fighting that left its denizens struggling to make ends meet. He ran out of bullets in his first month on the world, and the lack of any manufacturing facilities made it impossible to get any more ammunition. So he had to resort to other means to kill.

Previously, he had killed because he had been forced to do so. Now, he killed because he had no other choice if he wanted to live. Lives were dirt cheap in this lawless land, brigands and highwaymen roaming the countryside, extracting tribute and worse from the hapless people. It was literally kill or be killed in many instances.

Even the head of the monk would fetch him only enough money to buy another two weeks’ worth of food and supplies. The monk had once been a bandit many years ago before he became a monk, and he had killed a rich couple in one of his ambushes, leaving only their terrified son to remember their deaths in a rare show of compassion on the bandit’s part.

Well, that son had grown up swearing revenge, and he had finally gotten it via 91’s crossbow. So much for compassion on this blood stained world. Being kind, being helpful, brought nothing but grief.

91 started walking up a hill, the dog beside him, when the dog started growling as a warning.

Enemy! 91 reached down for his crossbow and his sword. He didn’t befriend the dog for nothing. The dog warned him of approaching foes, while he fed it and protected it from becoming dog food. In these hungry times, people would eat anything, even fellow human beings. What was a mere dog to them? 91 and the dog were more like partners than anything else, watching and covering each other’s backs for one year already.

A sole figure appeared on top of the hill, a longsword in his hands. 91 tried to ignore the clenching sensation in his stomach. The man was taller than him, his frame thin and wiry with hidden strength, thin wisps of dirty grey hair obscuring part of his face. He stared down at the boy with a confident smile.

91 asked, “What do you want?”

The man shrugged. “The head of Qiang Pang. Little boy, you just made my job a lot easier.”

“Come and get it then.” 91 raised the crossbow and shot off a bolt.

The man moved with frightening speed, like a viper, his longsword already lashing out before 91 knew it. The crossbow bolt simply whizzed past the man’s face, missing by mere inches.

91 barely parried the man’s first move. Then the man stepped in close, his blade against 91’s own sword all the time, rapidly changing the direction of the force he was exerting on his longsword.

The boy’s sword flew away from his hands, and he stared at the man as he slammed a knee into his gut. 91 fell to the ground to see his dog throw itself at the rival assassin. The man stepped sideways, the flat of his sword slapping the dog on its head. 91 saw his dog fall to the ground, woozily trying to get back on its feet.

He stared up at the man, as the man’ longsword descended towards his neck, only to stop as it touched his skin.

“Impressive, boy. You did not flinch.” The swordsman muttered admiringly. “Very well then. I’ll spare your life.” He withdrew the sword, leaving only a think trail of blood across 91’s neck.

91 said cooly, “So that you can claim my efforts for your own in the future?”

The man smiled, “No fear of death, and a brain besides!” He laughed as he lifted up the box with the monk’s head, and walked away back up the hill.

91 stared after him for a while. His sword technique was incredible. If I can learn that…

He made his decision, and forced his weak knees to support his weight as he stood up. He started running after the man, “Wait! Wait!”

The man turned back, and grinned, “What? You wish to die now?”

91 knelt to the ground before the man, the rocky ground hurting his knees, “No. Please, accept me as your student. Teach me your technique.”

The man raised an eyebrow. “An interesting turn of events. Oh well,” the man said casually, “I might consider it if you kowtow to me a hundred times.”

91 stared at the man, then he started kowtowing rapidly, his head hitting the ground with an audible thud. “Thud, thud.” By the tenth kowtow, his forehead began to bruise. By fifty, it was beginning to bleed.

By the time he had finished, with the man watching him intently, his head was covered with blood from the open wound on the spot where his forehead hit the ground. The dog had caught up by now, and barked angrily at the man.

“Hahaha!” The man laughed uproariously, “Amusing, amusing!”

He leaned down to 91, “Do you really wish to learn from me, boy?”

“Yes.”

“Then follow me.”

The man, who called himself Asem, led them to a cliff. The cliff was about two hundred meters high, with jagged, dangerous rocks at the bottom. The surf of the sea as it pounded against the cliff walls served as a reminder of the power of nature.

“If you wish to be my student, you have to pass through three tests.” Asem said to him seriously. “Think you’re up to it?”

“I’ll do it no matter what.” 91 replied back.

“Good, then jump off this cliff into the sea. Now. No questions.”

91 turned and ran for the edge of the cliff, ignoring the barking of his dog.

He saw only the rocks as he hurtled towards them, then everything went dark.

He awoke to see the dog licking him anxiously, and the condescending smile on Asem’s face. “The dog dragged you out of the water. You managed to miss all the rocks. Lucky, lucky you.”

91 managed to croak out, “Why?”

Asem seemed as if he was looking at some faraway place, “The sea represents everything out there that we do not know. The challenges we cannot defeat. The things we cannot have. To jump off the cliff means that you have effectively accepted that fact that one day you will meet somebody more powerful, better, stronger, and the reality of your death. For the way of the sword is death, sooner or later.”

Asem leaned down, his eyes glowing wildly, “Ready for the next test?”

91 nodded.

Asem brought them into a forest. He seemed to be looking around for something, and 91 tried to control the revulsion in his stomach when he realized what Asem was looking for.

A cesspit, filled to the brim with shit and urine. It stank terribly, and the boy was suddenly glad he had not had any meal for the past few hours. He would have vomited at the smell.

He asked Asem, “So this is your next test? For me to eat shit and drink urine?”

Asem shook his head, “Not so bad as that, boy. What I want you to do is to immerse yourself into the cesspit for one full day, without any food or drink.” He explained further, “Just like the previous test, this one means something as well. To be an assassin, you must discard your pride, your dignity. Many times, you will be reviled, mocked, and humiliated in the course of fulfilling your mission. And you must endure, no matter what. Can you do it?”

91 stared back at Asem, and took off his tattered shirt. Then he stepped into the cesspit, and the urine came up to his neck. Pieces of dung floated near his face, and the boy forced himself to ignore the stench.

It was almost a full day, and the boy was close to collapsing, his eyes almost closed with bone deep fatigue. The hot sun beat down on his face, streaked with caked dung and dried urine when he had almost collapsed into the cesspit several times, but managed to pull himself back up. His nose had long since desensitized itself to the odor, but the taste of the cesspit was horrible beyond belief.

He longed for some water, some food, but Asem had simply said, “If you wish to drink, drink the urine. If you wish to eat, you can eat the shit. They’re all there!”

I will succeed! 91 forced himself to remain standing. For my revenge, for everything done to me, I will succeed! I will learn his technique, and then I shall use it to gain power!

He didn’t know how exactly he was going to go about it, but he didn’t care.

“And you have passed the test.” Asem declared when the sun reached its apex. “Remarkable, boy. I have not thought you would be able to withstand such a stringent trial. Now go wash yourself up, and meet me five hundred meters south of here. Do not tarry long; the final test awaits.”

The dog ignored the stench, and helped pull him out of the cesspit. He laid on the ground for a while, almost drifting off into sleep with exhaustion. But he forced himself to his feet. He would not stop now!

After washing himself as clean as he could in a nearby river, he found Asem tending a fire. The man threw a sword towards him. “Here, take this. Your final test requires it.”

“And that is?”

Asem glanced down at the dog beside 91. “I wish to have dog meat for dinner tonight. A killer has no loyalty. No morals. No emotions. He has no friends in the world, only fellow predators, and prey. Prove to me that you’re such a killer.”

The dog growled, but 91 did not hesitate. He swung the blade down furiously to one side, trying to force back the tears threatening to spill from his eyes. He repeated his purpose in his mind. For my vengeance. For my vengeance, nothing else matters.

Asem walked up to 91, as he knelt by the still body of his dog, mechanically carving it apart for cooking. Then Asem began to laugh, “Even dogs possess loyalty! You’re worse than a dog now! Good, good! I shall teach you everything I know, and you shall be the finest killing weapon in the land when I’m through with you!”

The killer continued to laugh manically as 91 finally knelt in front of him and bowed three times, as dictated by custom.