The Big Hit

Silva waited quietly in the shadows of a old ruined building. It lay in the center of a square in a small Lunarian village about an hour's ride away from Castle Eria. The only things around were civilian stores and the building Silva was now crouched in. His client had been explict about the rendevous site, but Silva didn't like that it was being conducted in such an easily discovered location. The baker across the way could overhear them as he put his bread on the cooling racks, the woman gardening might walk by as she went to fetch water for her plants, so many things could go wrong.

However, he didn't have much choice in the matter, and had to trust that his client wasn't a complete imbecile. He had recieved a rather official looking letter via the usual method that morning. Silva had paid off select members to deliver letters with his symbol on it to certain dead drops, ordained by him. So far, none of the postal members had done anything differently. After all, they were merely getting paid more for delivering the letter to the person it was supposed to go to anyway. Normally these letters were usually contracts for a person to be killed, along with a price.

Very rarely, in cases such as this, the client requested a direct meeting. These contracts were usually higher level, or required more complex directions than risking to put in a letter. This specific instance, however, the letter had clearly started to be in that square at precisly noon. Silva had naturally gotten there an hour earlier, to scope the place and find a discreet spot to wait. So now it was just a matter of identifing the client.

At exactly noon, a man walked into the sqaure. He was the only new arrival since Silva got into position, so it had to be the client, however, Silva almost couldn't believe it. The man was a noble. Silva had never dealt with nobles before, considering his standing, but he took this as a sign that his reputation was growing. He had checked all the possible ambush places beforehand and had seen no sign that this was a trap. He walked out to meet the nobleman.

The nobleman made no outward sign as Silva sat down on a bench beside him. This was a good sign, he knew what he was doing. Silva wasn't particuarily worried about clients seeing his face, as he was so instantly recognizable anyway.

"I don't approve of your meeting place, but I came just the same." Silva stated without moving his lips.

"Are you the Dark Moon?" The nobleman asked, from this close, Silva noticed that the noble wasn't as comfortable as he had seemed from afar. He shifted uneasily as he sat, as though he were second guessing what he was about to do.

"I am. But, before you give the details of the contract, I must warn you of what will happen." Silva found himself saying. "The person whom you tell me to kill will die. I will leave no trace of evidence pointing back to you, and you will never be implicated for the murder. However, you will have condemned this person to death. Do not continue this unless your are sure you can live with the knowledge that you indirectly killed someone, otherwise I will simply walk away with your conscience intact." This was uncharacteristic of Silva. He never warned his clients of pyschological aftereffects, in fact, he normally benefitted from them. There was something about this particular hit, however, that made him want to do it perfectly.

The noble grabbed at a necklace he wore, and appeared to be ready to get up and walk away, but then, as he ran his fingers over the gold of the necklace, he appeared to ease back in.

"To back out now will have wasted both of our time. Time the both of us could use doing more productive things. I shall go along with the hit."

"Whom do you wish to die?" Silva asked bluntly.

"He goes by the name Lord Fernidad. He is a rich, snobbish, boarish man with no table manners and no right to his title whatsoever." Silva nodded, he'd heard of the man.

"How do you wish for him to die? Shall I kill him discreetly, or ostentatiously?" Silva remained cool and collected as he asked these questions, which he had no doubt was unsettling his client.

"I don't have a particular request method of death, but rather a time of death." Silva raised an eyebrow at this. "He is hosting a party at the end of the week. I will be in attendence, and I wish for him to die there. I understand you like to leave your mark known at the scene of your kills, if you succeed, your name will become infamous."

Silva nodded. "I see. So, you wish for me to kill him at his own party, which will no doubt have military security considering so many of the city's wealthy will be in attendence, leave not a trace for them to follow back to me, and escape from said security? Sounds like a challenge. I accept."

The noble was taken aback. "You accepted so readily? I figured more would be needed to convince you. We have not even discussed the price yet."

"Why do you wish for me to kill him?" Silva asked suddenly, ignoring the man's questions. At this point, the man looked down again at the necklace, fingering it for comfort. Silva now saw that it was in the shape of a heart. "Ah, his wife."

That startled the nobleman yet again. He started to stutter and stammer, but in the end, simply nodded. Silva stood up and prepared to walk away. "I'll find you at the party." He said. "We will talk about payment then. Don't leave for another half hour, that should deter any watchers." With that, Silva left the man sitting on the bench, as he got on his horse and rode back to the center of the city, where he would prepare for his big hit.

***

The rest of the week was busy for Silva, as a lot of preparation was needed. He needed to find out where Lord Fernidad lived, who was supposed to be in attendence, and whether or not there would indeed be military personal acting as security. All and all, he kept pretty busy.

Finding out where Fernidad lived proved almost simplistically easy. He simply asked who lived in the nearest manor, and eventually found the one that belonged to Fernidad. Lunari had many rich Lords, people of wealth given their title simply because of their high class social standing, and the most well known lived in manors. Silva found that his new target lived in the northern sector of Lunari, and all he could see was that it lived up to the Lunarian legend that all buildings in the city were impregnable. The gates were high, and the lawn was too big to simply cross without being dectected. If Silva was going to get in, he would need a convincing disguise.

Which led him to his search of the Lords who would be in attendence. Using his contacts in the post, he was able to create a list of most Lords and Ladys who recieved invitations to the party. After he had compiled his list, he sought each of them out, learning their appearence and mannerisms, until he found one suitable for his needs.

There was one Lord whom Silva singled out above the rest. He was about Silva's height, an had the same hair color and skin tone, but the most important feature was that he always wore a large black feathered hat where ever he went. This gave Silva an idea.

He approached this Lord, revealed who he was, and then offered him a considerable amount of gold to simply borrow his hat for a night and to have him not attend Lord Fernidad's party. He readily agreed. Funny, it occured to Silva, how it always seems to be easier to bribe those who already have money.

With his diguise secured, that left one final stage of preparations, and the hardest to find out beforehand, whether or not Fernidad would have military security at the manor. Silva was convinced he would, considering the size of the list of the nobles attending, it would be too important to have anyone disrupt. The military would likely be willing to dispatch a small group of soldiers to act as security at the manor for the night. However, Silva had no way to confirm or deny this.

He spent several days looking for an answer to this important piece of the puzzle with no luck. He was just about to accept the fact that he wouldn't know and would have to find out the moment of the party, when he hit a lucky break. The day before the party, Silva saw a lone uniformed figure walk up to the gates of the Manor Fernidad, and watched as he was admitted without question. This was enough for him. He could prepare for military intervention.

Finally, the night of the big hit came, and Silva donned his disguise and hired a carriage to take him to the manor. Due to the nature of the party, Silva's usual arsenal of weapons had been left behind. All he had brought was his dagger, which he had concealed in his robe, and the two hidden shoe knifes he always carried around. The were designed to be concealed in boots, and so they were very uncomfortable in Silva's dress shoes, but he wouldn't stab himself, and could deal with a little discomfort.

As his carriage approached the gates, Silva adjusted the hat to make sure it obstructed his right eye. This way, unless someone looked under the hat from below, no one would be able to see his scar and recognize him for who he really was. The gaurd at the gate confirmed him on the guest list, and the carriage rode into the manor grounds.

Silva exited and made his way into the manor proper, a plastic smile plastered on his face. He pretended to look around amazed at the decorations and such, but in reality was looking for any gaurds or entryways. Eventually he came to the ballroom.

The ballroom was full of nobles. Lords and Ladys mingling and having a good time. In the center of the room, a platform had been erected for fencing matches. The late Lord Fernidad himself was dueling someone as Silva walked in. To an untrained, normal civilian, Fernidad was incredibly good, but to Silva's trained eye, his movements were sloppy and easily countered.

He wasted no time. He immediately searched the crowd for an opportunity, and instantly found one. A young lady was looking particuarily fed up with her date, and Silva swooped in.

"Excuse me, milady, but may I have this dance?" He asked with his fake grin and charm. Silva was naturally good-looking and he knew it. It made situations like these much easier. He offered his hand to the young woman, and she giggled and took it.

He put his arm around her waist and began to dance, occasionally messing up because of the discomfort in his shoes, but for the most part succeeded in playing the role of the charismatic young Lord.

As they danced, he made sure to listen to his partner and respond to everything she said in a timely manner, but out the corner of his eye, he was looking for an opportunity to kill.

"What happened to your eye?" She asked. Silva was dancing with her close enough that she could look under his hat. Luckly, she didn't know who he was.

"Fencing accident. It will heal eventually. Besides, I think it adds a bit of rougishness to my character." He responded instantly. THis got another giggle. Some part of him was disgusted by this whole scenario. The girl was probably in her mid teens, several years younger than Silva himself.

They continued, and Silva started to see opportunities form. There was a circular landing on the second floor of the building, easily accessable and not well lit. Silva supposed he could throw one of his knifes from there if he wanted to. However, a much more promising, much more stereotypical plan formed in his head. Directly above the fencing platform, was a large chandelier, the chain supporting it was attached to the second floor landing. It was perfect.

He stopped dancing, and excused himself, kissing the date lightly on the cheek to futher sell the disguise, and made his way up to the second floor. There were much less people on the second floor than on the first, and Silva was able to lean against the railing overlooking the dance hall without attracting much attention.

He pulled his dagger, and swiftly cut the main chain to the chandelier. He then grabbed the chain, and used a minor ice spell to freeze the metal together. He didn't use magic often. He had a slight affinity for ice magic, but using anything more than that simple spell tired him out. The spell would only last a few minutes, but that was all he needed.

He dropped a card from the landing, then went back downstairs, where he found Lord Fernidad asking for another fencing opponent.

"Are there none who can defeat me here?" The arrogant Lord was asking. SIlva couldn't resist such a tempting offer.

"I will duel you!" He called out from among the crowd. He made his was over to the platform, estimating how much time he had left before the chandelier crashed down to the ground. He had enough time to play around a little bit.

"You think you can defeat me? Lord Fernidad? I have defeated coutless of opponents in fencing, and have not met my match here or anywhere else."

"Yes. I do believe I could beat you." Silva said with a smile. Faking emotion was nessecary in this situation.

He grabbed a rapier, got up on the fencing platform, and began. The game was won when one opponent drew blood on the other, and Silva wanted him to be in the exact right spot. At first, he played defensively. Purposefully leaving openings to tempt the foolish lord into attacking, which forced them back under the chandelier. Then, they battled back and forth at a stalemate. When Silva sensed it was time, he jabbed at Fernidad's left shoulder, then immediately changed to hit his right, only to switch direction and second time and stab him in the gut. The hit went through, and Silva was victorious.

Silva held his sword hand up in truimph, and the group of watchers applauded his win. He made his way toward them, to accept their congratulations. He was off the platform in seconds.

Fernidad, however, doubled over when the blade had hit. While Silva was getting off the platform into safety, Fernidad looked down at the ground, and saw a peculiar card under his foot. His picked it up, and the last thing he saw was the sign of the Dark Moon before he was crushed by the chandelier.

Silva watched as the chandelier came crashing down, killing Fernidad instantly. He didn't normally do things this obviously, but his client had been right, this hit would make him infamous. They would find his card in Fernidad's hand, and realize that Silva the Dark Moon was able to infiltrate this manor, sabotage the chandelier, and leave without a trace right under the military's nose. He glaced over to the side, and saw his client staring open mouthed at where the Lord had once stood. By chance, without knowing of his disguise, he looked right at Silva.

Silva just grinned and tipped his hat toward him.

As the whole crowd is in confusion at what had just happened, a group of Royal Lunarian soldiers walk calmly into the room alongside men clad in white coats. Some people start to take notice of the men and one nobleman starts bowing over and over apologizing.

"Sir I am so sorry you had to arrive at such a horrible time where an accident had just occurred." said the noble.

As he said this, the Lunarian soldiers and the men in white coats form up saluting as a man with white hair walks calmly despite the confusion going on.

"It matters not to me whether my timing was off, I am here on behalf of your King due to him being unable to attend due to urgent matters."

As the nobleman and the man with white hair start conversing, people begin to whisper and talk about who the strange person who had just arrived. A couple of generals back in the crowd begin to realize slowly as their eyes widen...

"By the gods, that's Emperor Ryu of Scaradia!" Says one of the generals. "But why his he here in Lunaria?"

"You obviously haven't been paying attention to the news." Says another general. "Lunaria and Scaradia are entering an alliance." the general adds.

As the generals continue to gossip, another group near them hear about who the man is and begin spreading the word. Meanwhile, Emperor Ryu is led towards the stairs leading to the rooms upstairs. Along the way he bumps into a man wearing a hat to which the man falls and Emperor Ryu turns and helps the man up apologizing."

"I apologize, I didn't notice you were there." He says leaving the man after he helped him up.

It was after this that someone from the crowd calls out to Emperor Ryu and everyone's eyes shifts to a young man in a Lunarian military uniform.

"I challenge you Emperor Ryu Shinra to a duel!" Yells the man.

"How dare you!" Yells the nobleman who had spoke with Emperor Ryu earlier. "His highness is tired and must..."

"I accept." Ryu interrupts.

The whole crowd is shocked at the Emperor's response and the nobleman starts to argue that this isn't worth his time.

"Who are you to tell his majesty what is worth his time." Says one of the men in white.

"At ease." Ryu says towards the man. "The platform has been cleared as well as the body correct? Then there is no excuse for there not to be a stage at which a duel can take place." He adds.

"But your highness..." The nobleman says in fear as the other men in white glare at him.

"These are some of the most elite warriors in all of Scaradia." Ryu says. "And it right for a King to show his soldiers his strength for there is no room in this world for a weak leader." He adds as he walks up to the platform removing his white coat, handing it to one of the Scaradian soldiers.

The Lunarian soldier walks up to the stage and bows at Emperor Ryu and smiles.

"I am Lieutenant Braeg Sanders, one of the most promising warriors in all of Lunaria!" He yells as he points a rapier at Emperor Ryu.

"Is that so?" Ryu replies. "Well then...I will have to take you a bit seriously then won't I?" He says opening his arms.

"Where's your sword?" Braeg questions.

"I won't need one." Ryu replies.

"Tsch, suit yourself!" Braeg smiles as he take a battle stance.

And as the crowd stare in anticipation, the nobleman earlier yells out.

"Begin!"

Braeg starts to walk to back and forth to his sides waiting for an attack and suddenly locks eyes with his opponent.

"Five percent." Ryu says towards Braeg.

"What did you..."

Suddenly Braeg's face is caught by Ryu's left hand and smashes Braeg into the ground in a matter of seconds to which the entire audience is left in silence at what had just happened. Apparently, to most of everyone's eyes, Ryu had taken a step and suddenly appeared right in front of his opponent who was 10 feet away from him. As everyone was trying to sink in what had just happened, Ryu stands and walks towards the Scaradian soldiers who seem unfazed who hand his coat back which he puts on. Ryu then advances towards the main door and turns.

"What a shame, one of Lunaria's most promising warriors is nothing more than an ant. I will have to speak to your King regarding your military having such a weak prospect."

Emperor Ryu and the soldiers then leave after the former had finished speaking briefly to the nobleman about a few other matters. After they left, the nobleman rushed towards Braeg ready to release his rage at what had just happened and is suddenly shocked along with the rest to the sight of the defeated man. Braeg's face was almost lifeless and blank as if close to death and his body was trembling.

"That man...his eyes...his eyes..." Braeg says quivering.

"His eyes are what?" Asks the nobleman.

Suddenly, the party is filled with the screams of Braeg Sanders. Meanwhile, as Emperor Ryu stares out the window of his carriage, he frowns at the full moon.

"Another weakling" He whispers.

Silva watched the Scaradian King leave the estate with an expression of loathing, envy, and fear. It was uncharacteristic of him to outwardly display emotions except those necessary for the task at hand, but he couldn't help himself this time. He had always held the Kings of Terra in the highest regard, as did most people who grew up in this era, but after seeing that, he wanted nothing more than to see the mighty Ryu Shinra fall.

How dare he? This was Silva's big event. This was the hit that would forever go down in infamy. This was the night where The Dark Moon became a universal name, spoken in fear and whispers throughout Lunaria. This was a turning point for his entire career. His entire bloody career, which for the past three years had been bordering on a living hell.

After he was framed for the murder of his Lieutenant in the military, Silva quickly realized that his skills would be wasted. He wasn't good at anything except weaponry and stealth, neither of which were much used outside of the military. He was even told as a child he had an affinity for ice magic, and would make a promising mage. However, no matter how hard he tried, Silva couldn't do much magic. The spells came to him easier than others, but the casting was an entirely different matter. He couldn't even freeze something larger than that chandelier chain without getting unnecessarily exhausted. He was good for absolutely nothing except scouting and killing. Which is why he became an assassin.

In the three years since he had become an outlaw, he had tried to hone his body and mind to be the most powerful weapons he could make them. He was several times stronger, faster, and smarter than he was in the military, but it still wasn't enough. The reputation is what made a killer, and unless he basically announced himself, like he did at the tavern the other day, no one knew he existed. It wasn't fair. He had never failed in a hit, nor had he even done anything except a swift kill with no traces that could lead the authorities back to the client or Silva. He made it a point to leave his mark at each kill, but it still wasn't enough. He was still nothing. Even the military, which had vowed to find him at all costs, wasn't looking very hard for him. Despite all the training, all the practice, all the casting away of unnecessary emotions, he still was a little more than a poor man out on the streets, begging for work.

Silva didn't like to think about this. It was a moment of weakness. If he started experiencing moments of weakness, he would begin to think himself inferior to those around him. That was the last thing he would allow. If he wasn't simply the best there was, or if he could easily be stopped by anyone who had the will to, what was the point of his existence? When he completed a spotless kill, that was the only time he felt, complete. This would change that. He would no longer be unknown, and he would become feared throughout the kingdom.

And then this Ryu Shinra comes in and ruins everything! Silva realized he was actually balling his fist in pure anger. Shinra had come in, not only completely ignoring the hit, but also at the worst time possible. He stole the attention of the crowd, and then in a tremendous display of power, he had made Silva completely forgotten. Even now the people were discussing the Dragon Emperor and his duel, and the dead Fernidad was completely forgotten.

Plus, the bastard had knocked him over. In a mere brushing, Silva's powerful, muscular body was actually thrown to the ground like a child running into a wall. There was no way even Shinra could tell who he was, and he most certainly didn't care, but still. Silva never fell.

To complete his rage, he knew he could do absolutely nothing about it. Shinra was just too powerful. Even if Silva doubled his training every day for the rest of his life, he would still be crushed as Breag Sanders had been. The monarchs on Terra were transcendent. Their power was unequaled, except by their parent, the previous monarch. The Kings usually didn't bother with civilians, unless it was to produce an heir, and none could stand up to them.

Of course, even before Shinra had thrown Sanders to the ground, he had known Shinra would win. He had known Breag Sanders during his time as a Wolf. Back then, he was an ordinary squire, and was famous among the men for his loud bark and pitiful bite. If Silva were in Shinra's place, he would have been able to stick a dagger in the man almost as quickly as Shinra had pummeled him. Shinra's way was much more impressive. And frightening. And annoying. Even now the man continued his screams in terror.

Silva, safe in a crowd of people, drew on of his shoe daggers, and threw it at the screaming man on the platform. He was silenced instantly. It was sloppy of Silva, to kill someone so openly in so obvious a place, but no one around him had seen the throw, and no one else in the room could have seen who had thrown it. It was also a reminder to the guests that The Dark Moon was still here. He was among them, and he was prepared to kill anyone, not just a specific person. Lastly, it was a way for Silva to work out some of his rage. It was unhealthy for an assassin to become blinded by rage.

He decided on what he had to do. When this whole incident was over, he would dedicate himself to improvement. He would push himself to his limits again and again, until he had finally reached his peak. He would never again let fame be stolen from him. He would prove to the world that he was not nothing. He was good at something.

Then Silva Darkmoon calmed himself. It was a foolish notion. To bring himself to that point would only tire him on the contracts he took. And why did he need to prove to the world he was something? Perhaps he merely needed to prove it to himself?

No! His anger returned to him. He needed to prove nothing to himself. It was others who needed to know he was one to be feared and respected. None would stop him. And even if they could, they would never catch him.

But what was the point? If he were killing all these people just to make a point, then that bordered on the very lowest of the morale ladder. By improving and increasing the rate of his kills to prove he was worthy of being a human, he was in fact reducing himself to something less than human.

When his anger returned this time, it didn't leave him. He settled on his course. But first, he needed to get out of there. Of course, his murder of Sanders had stirred the people up again, and now the military knew that he, Silva the Dark Moon, was still on the grounds, and he was among the guests. This would spark an investigation, and he would draw suspicion if he attempted to leave before he was cleared. Besides, it was another point he wanted to prove. The Dark Moon was a master of disguise. He would never be found.

He scanned the crowd and located the noble who hired him. It was time to discuss his pay.