The Prisoner

Malcolm eyed the keys in my hand suspiciously. "Is this a test? See if I can turn down temptation or see if I'll try to kill you and run?"

"It might be," I sighed as I unlocked the gate. "Or maybe I actually see some kind of potential in you."

He stood at the open gate and looked between me and the freedom behind me. "What potential could you see in me? I lost to you remember."

"Yes but you're still young-"

"I'm twenty-two," he scoffed.

I gave him a look for interrupting me and he coughed an apology. "Which is young to the assassins here. Now," I stepped aside so he could exit the makeshift cell, "how about a bit of a sparring match."

"With what weapons?"

"I don't trust you enough to use actual weapons yet," I lead him to the center of the basement where we had plenty of room, "but you won't always have a weapon on you or you could get disarmed. Then what?" I held my hands in front of me in a defensive stance. "You're stuck using your hands. So that's what we are going to use."

He kicked at the dust on the ground, looking a bit embarrassed. "I've never really been good at hand to hand."

My hands lowered just a bit as I frowned at him. He really looks like a kid, nothing like the insane killer I saw last night at the party. I sighed and walked up to him, kicking his legs so they were farther apart. "Then it's a good time to learn. Keep your stance wider," a soft kick to the back of knees caused him to bend them, "and keep your knees bent. If you don't have a good stance then you'll be knocked on your ass before you even have a chance to throw a punch."

I stood in front of him and motioned for him to strike. "Try hitting me."

His eyes widened in shock and he looked over at the dummies we had lining some of the walls. "Shouldn't I practice on those?"

"You will but first I want to see how hard you can hit."

He still seemed reluctant but his fist still flew towards me with almost startling speed. He connected to my forearm three times in quick succession before he jumped back, shaking out his hands from the force of the hits. I was about to say something when I heard footsteps on the stairs.

"You need to build up callouses," the voice belonged to Jayde.

He came downstairs with Shade close on his heels. He was smiling and had a small tray in each hand that held food and a glass of ale. "Kari and Zierra sent me down with these," he set the trays on a nearby table, mentioning that we should let them cool, and came to stand next to me where he tried to look tough while he jerked his head in Malcolm's direction. "He the new guy?"

Malcolm was frozen in place as Shade sniffed his shoes. "What the heck is this thing?" He kept his voice low and quiet and it shook a little in fear.

I laughed. "Shade leave him alone he's fine," he gave Malcolm a look for a moment, like he was trying to figure him out, before he trotted back over to me. "This is Shade and Jayde," I paused as I introduced them, finding it funny that their names rhymed, "they work here. Jayde is a server and Shade-"

"Is a one hell of a guard dog."

I crossed my arms over my chest. "You have a bad habit of interrupting, do you know that?" He looked at his feet. "Shade does help look over the tavern, yes, but I also take him on some jobs. He's just as much a member of our group as Lyon or Kari."

"What about that elf girl?"

"Is he talking about Zierra? Or Kari?" Jayde asked.

"Zierra," even just saying her name made my heart hurt. "She helps were she can but doesn't officially work here."

"Yeah she actually came to-" I quickly covered his mouth before he spilled to much information about who she was or why she was here.

"Let's not give him information he doesn't need, yeah? Did Kari just send you down here to give us some food?"

He nodded. "Yeah and Zierra wanted me to make sure you were fine. Said that your seemed to have a foggy memory from last night and something about a cold."

"I don't have a cold," I grumbled. "Tell her I'm fine and thank Kari for the food," I nudged him back towards the stairs. "Now get back up there kid! You've got a job to do and I'm not done with this guy." Jayde stuck his tongue out me playfully and tapped his pant leg for Shade, who obediently followed after him. "Traitor!" I called to him and I could hear the large wolf huff at me from the top of the stairs.

"Booze get to you?" Malcolm raised an eyebrow at me, looking not too convinced.

"I'd rather not talk about it," I muttered and he shrugged.

"I didn't know you had a kid," Malcolm, now more relaxed that Shade was gone, smirked at me. "It's cute."

I glared at him and shoved him in the direction of the dummies. "He's not my kid. I saved him from a slaver and he had nowhere else to go so I took him in. He's been helpful working here, it takes some weight off all our backs."

"Been training him too?" He asked as he threw a few punches at the dummy.

"Here and there for the last few days," I answered him as I corrected his fists. "Don't close your thumb in your hand it's a good way to get it broken but don't stick it out like you're giving a thumbs up either. Keep it close to your hand, sort of wrapped around your first two fingers between the first and second knuckle," he threw another few punches. "Better."

I watched him throw some more hits, correcting him when needed, and led him through some basic stances and moves that could give him the head's up in a fight. I taught him much like I did Jayde, focusing more on the speed of his hits than the power behind them since he seemed to rely more on being quick and nimble than brute strength. When I noticed he was getting winded I ordered him to stop and motioned for him to follow me to the table where our food sat.

"It should be cooled off by now," I handed him his tray and he looked up at me like he was confused.

"You're not going to make me eat in the cage?"

"Would you rather eat there?"

He shook his head and began to scarf his food down like he hadn't eaten in days and, thinking about it, I realized that I didn't now if he had. "Might want to slow down a bit there kid. It isn't going anywhere and if I know our cook it's going to be a bit-" I was cut off as Malcolm suddenly set the bowl down and guzzled the ale, shock in his eyes as his face started to get red from heat. "-spicy."

Despite the fact that his mouth had to be on fire from the spices that Galen used in the stew he smiled at the food. "It's good actually, I just wasn't expecting the heat," he looked up and his amber eyes looked almost sad. "Thank you. Sapphyre right?"

I looked at him, surprised that this was the same man who tried to kill Soren less than twenty-four hours ago. "Yeah, Sapphyre Rose," I held my hand out. "I guess we never did properly introduce ourselves."

He took my hand though his grip was weak from practicing. "Malcolm Trace, though you knew that."

I watched him eat his meal in silence. What's his deal? He was insane at the party, a madmen even. Was it an act? Is this who he really is? A scared kid with nothing left. Or is this the act and I'm simply falling for it? "Malcolm?"

He looked at me from over his mug, curious. "Yes?"

"Why did you become an assassin? What's your story?"