I have to write a blog post today. I didn’t write one last week. I guess you can say I took a mental health day. But I need to post something today because if I let myself get into a slump, I am not getting out of it. So here it is. Me writing a blog post. I don’t want to, I’m not in the mood, I don’t know what to write about. But I’m here. I am posting something.
I dug up this thing I wrote when I was planning a for-fun-only online series with my friend. I hope it still happens, but after we spent a fun night brainstorming I went home and wrote this little introduction scene for my character. Maybe if I post it here it will inspire me to bring it up again – and it’s a something, which is all I promised to post.
I know I had a family before the Guild. I must have – two people who gave me life, just as everyone has. I don’t really remember them, though. There is a vague memory of a woman I think must have been my mother, an unclear image of a face surrounded by black hair much like mine. While I cannot remember her eyes, I have this sense there might have been love in them. But I do not remember her, as I do not remember the name she must have given me. I only remember the alleys and gutters of Old Town where I lived for nothing but shelter and food. I wasn’t awfully talented at the second, but I was brilliant at the first.
To get food you had to thieve, and I was never very accomplished at thieving, but the one thing I had going for me was my ability to hide. I was nearly invisible to all the world, even the other street urchins who always had more food than me but never slept in dryer places than I did because they all got caught on their way in. I wasn’t much of anything, I’ll grant you that – there was hardly a soul who knew I existed at all – but I was invisible and I was ruthless. One time only did anyone find me where I hid one night. It was a stormy sort of night and another kid got desperate enough to find my spot. He threatened me with a blade to go away and let him keep the space.
I threw myself on top of him and fought until his blade was in my hands and drinking blood from his throat. That was the first time I felt truly alive, like a being with a consciousness all my own and not just some parasite suckling at the neck of Old Town with nothing to live for but staying alive.
I know now that the Red God saw me for the first time that night, when the boy’s blood trickled into the earth and stained my fingers with the color of life. My first sacrifice. I said no prayer as no one had taught me such things, but they heard me nonetheless. It was barely days later that I sat high up on a beam in the tavern heated by the blue fire and watched the lone barman tending to the hearth. He was the only one around that time of the morning, until another man slid up behind him, like a shadow appearing from nowhere at all, and slit the barman’s throat from behind. Just like I’d done to that boy.
His movements were all grace, the surety with which he pressed the blade into the skin was the most beautiful thing I’d ever seen. I knew I had to be part of something that powerful. I knew I had to be like him.
When he slipped out through the kitchen door, I climbed down from my hiding place and followed. He seemed to be as invisible to the rest of the city as I was, but I followed him out of Old Town, around Jade Pond and straight towards the mountains. I followed until he reached a house nuzzled up against the mountainside and disappeared through the only door in it. I counted twenty heartbeats before emerging from my hiding place. I walked towards that door, barely hesitating for one moment before knocking and barely another passed before the man opened the door and looked down at me as though entirely unsurprised to find a girl child there on his stoop.
“Will you teach me?” I asked him. “To be like you, back there in the tavern?”
The man stared for but one heartbeat before he smiled, stood aside, and welcomed me to the Guild of Assassins.
There, a totally random thing but at least it was a thing, and this is a post even if it’s random and without purpose. I needed to post something, anything, because I cannot allow myself to enter a rut. I don’t want to. I enjoy blogging, and Depression is not going to take it away from me.
Now if you’ll excuse me I have a novel to write.