A Merry Gathering

Days of hard riding had driven Oshar to exhaustion. Even in the dream he felt the heavy ache of his muscles and the itching wounds that bore witness to both his success and failure.

He stood before a familiar table, in a cavernous room of marble. It was here he had received his holy mission. On the table sat the stone and the scroll, surrounded by seven square parchments with intricate portraits painted upon them. He studied each face in detail, remembering how he had done this once before.

"So this is how you know us?"

He was not surprised to see Melandra standing opposite, her arms folded behind her back as she studied the images with him. She sniffed indignantly as she found her own portrait amidst the others.

"They did not capture my best side." She turned her head from side to side to give Oshar the full view. "See?"

Oshar shook his head and smiled sadly. "It is a great honour to be here." he explained.

"I am here for my skill." she shrugged.

"And I for my intelligence." Oshar turned to see that Nicolaus had joined them. He snatched up his portrait and studied it.

"I was about to say that it was unflattering," Melandra commented drily, "...but I fear it is merely accurate."

"Piss off." Nicolaus laughed.

Oshar listened as the two souls exchanged casual insults for a time, much of the conversation being lost on him. He had never quite mastered the art of social discourse. He always felt awkward and somehow separate from the conversation. Like he was observing the whole thing from a distance. After a time he became distracted by the sound of laughter behind him.

The assassin turned to see a young boy running between the distant pillars. He was playing hide and seek with the recently deceased friar. Oshar made his way over and as he grew near they both stopped their play and turned to watch him.

"Where is the boys mother?" he asked.

"She has moved on." the friar explained in a cold, clipped tone, "I will care for the child now."

"She is watching us." the boy chimed in and Oshar felt a cold shiver creep up his spine.

"You have grown quickly." he said at last to break the silence.

"Are you the bad man?" the boy asked, ignoring the statement.

"No." Oshar replied at the same time as the friar growled, "Yes."

"I am performing a holy duty." he argued and the friar barked a laugh.

"We will see." the friar turned his back to Oshar and started to lead the boy away. "Go collect your names assassin." he called back. "Go..."