F-tier Assasin - Chapter 3

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Chapter 3

The D-tier Tracker ran past the stand that Ashlan was huddled behind in its faint shadow. From the way she sniffed the air, it was clear she was using a Skill like ‘Bloodhound’ or ‘Scenting Tongue’, which allowed her to follow his trail using her sense of smell. However, it wasn’t helping her in this place where a thousand scents and smells intermixed beneath the canopies. The frustrated look in her eyes attested as much.

            He couldn’t help but grin along with the Perfumer managing the stand, as the woman rounded the corner with a loud huff of annoyance, before disappearing out of sight within the maze-like layout of the Faraway Markets’ countless stalls. Most of the people thronging the narrow pathways were giving her a wide berth, on account of the scary I’m-on-a-mission look she had.

            After waiting a couple minutes to make sure she wasn’t coming back, he was ready to head deeper into the heart of the Markets, where Frelly always ‘patrolled’. But first, he wanted to make it harder for them to track him. Granted, he wasn’t sure if the other Tracker was also using her nose to follow him.

The D-tier Perfumer was maybe in her late twenties, and was one of the countless people that Frelly had acquainted herself with in that mysterious way of hers. Despite her low Rank, she seemed well-off, based on the fancy appearance of her stall, as well as the glossy orange-dyed linen clothes she wore. Then again, Perfumers were an uncommon Profession and they generally only served the upper-middle class and above. But, of course, the ingredients they used were expensive.

Given that each of these small colourful flasks cost more than eight weeks’ rent, it’s no wonder she’s earning a lot…

The logistics of making a liveable wage were kind of straight-forward, when one sale had you set for weeks.

Ashlan didn’t know her name and this was the first time they’d ever spoken, but Frelly often wore the various perfumes the woman made, perhaps as a sort of walking advertisement for her stall full of colourful bottles.

“Would you mind spraying me with one of your scents?”

She gave him a look as if to say ‘For free?’

“I’ll tell people who I got it from, and it’ll help keep the Trackers off my scent.”

She considered it, then said, “I hadn’t thought of that. Why are you running from them though?”

Ashlan weighed the pros and cons of telling her, but then leaned in conspiratorially, while keeping his eyes on the nearby stalls and the people perusing.

“I was assigned today. I got Assassin.”

The Perfumer’s intake of air was gratifying in a way. It probably also helped that he didn’t mention the Rank.

“Did you kill someone? Is that why they’re hunting you?”

Not yet…

“No,” he replied. “But apparently the System wants to test me… hence the Trackers.”

“How exciting,” she cooed.

Ashlan immediately pegged her as someone who fancied gossip.

“Alright, I’ll help you. But you had better tell people that you got your Perfume from me!”

I don’t even know your name, but I’ll do my best.

After gliding through her stall, looking for a specific scent, she returned with a fancy glass flask in the palm of her hand and the other holding its spray pump. The liquid inside was golden honey-brown.

He looked around, worried the B-tier Tracker would come around the corner of the nearby stalls, though he somehow felt confident that she wasn’t taking this chase very seriously.

I wouldn’t either, if I was a High-Ranker sent after a newly-assigned F-tier.

The Perfumer aimed the flask at him and squeezed the pump, sending the liquid into the air, where it turned into a fragrant misty curtain that washed over him.

            The perfume hit him all at once, making his eyes sting and sending him into a coughing fit. It was a woody and deep scent, which reminded him of how some of the people visiting the Bouquet often smelled.

            “Now you smell like a real man,” she said with a self-satisfied nod.

            “Guess I’ll have to learn to act like one too,” he joked.

            Even though she was slightly shorter than him, the Perfumer ruffled his hair dotingly, almost as if he was a mischievous little brother. It definitely didn’t make him feel like a man. The smell of her hands was like roses and lilacs.

            “Thanks for the help,” he said.

            “Don’t forget to spread the word about my perfumes!” she told him. “Lilac Lucy’s Perfumes, remember that!”

            He did a mock salute, “Yes ma’am.”

            “Who are you calling ‘ma’am’!?” she said, chasing him out of her stall with a sandal lifted above her head threateningly.

            Ashlan ran away as fast as he could, grinning despite the imminent threat of Trackers coming after him.

Sometime later, while trying to get a feel for the layout of the Faraway Markets, which changed every day, thanks to the jostling and competing Vendors always finding new spots to put up their goods, Ashlan came to a halt in front of a sweetmeats stall.

            Seated on a wooden stool, while trying out honey-candied dates and small nutcakes offered to her by the Vendor, was the B-tier Tracker.

            “That was a neat trick you did back there. What Skill did the System give you?” asked the woman casually.

            He let out a strangled sound of surprise, then spun on his heel and took off back the way he’d come, willing the crowds to ignore him as he weaved his way through.

            The clunk of a stool getting knocked over was followed by laughter, as the Tracker gave chase. Each of her strides seemed to launch her forward, as though she had springs under her boots.

            Despite not taking this seriously, her speed is frightening!

            Ashlan rounded a corner and flowed through the gap between two women, with but a hair’s breadth keeping him from colliding with either.

            A second later those same women yelped as the Tracker barged through, utterly locked in on him.

            Having no other clue what to do to escape, Ashlan chose his least favourite means of causing a distraction.

            The clink-clink of coins hitting the stones underfoot caused heads to swivel around and pinpoint the source, before several people moved to grab them. It was weird how it always worked, no matter where he did it. Even people whose Ranks or Professions should have them swimming in money still couldn’t resist the sound of free Silvers. Not all of them would bend down to pick them up, but they would always look.

            Someone let out an oomph! as the B-tier Tracker barrelled into him, sending them both to the ground. She immediately continued into a roll that brought her back to her feet, but a wall of greedy people suddenly filled the gap between her and Ashlan.

            He cut a corner sharply, dodging a stall sign reaching out just before it kissed him on the forehead, then continued down the row. Too afraid to stop, he flew around corner-after-corner, hoping that he was putting enough distance between him and the Tracker, though he dared not look back.

            When he finally stopped in the dark shadow between a Butcher’s stall and a fragrant Tea shop, he was breathing so quickly he felt certain the Trackers could find him by the sound alone.

            If she was taking this seriously, I would’ve been caught already.

            And that distraction cost me twelve Silvers… hopefully it wasn’t a waste.

            Although Ashlan had seen people with A- and B-tier Professions perform awe-inspiring feats of strength and agility before, it was so much different to be on the receiving end of it.

            Usually, C-tier Assignments crested the peak of what any normal human could hope to learn, meaning someone devoted enough to practise could, in theory, match a C-tier in a specific Skill, so long as it was based on something not involving magic like his Lurk. On some level, people accepted this as fact, even though hardly anyone except the Unassignable seemed to put it into practice. It was why C-tiers were considered the baseline; neither terrible nor amazing.

            B-tier was just a step up, but, if the theory of each Rank having the power of ten of the preceding Rank held true, then it meant that a B-tier agility Skill was equivalent to ten peak humans combined. But the B-tier Tracker hadn’t shown him that.

            Then it clicked.

            She gave herself a handicap to make the chase more fun…

            No wonder her movements seemed so effortless… she was holding back.

            It was a sour feeling to realise that Ashlan hadn’t outrun the Tracker. She had simply not wanted the fun to end already.

            “System,” he whispered into the darkness between the stalls, “Are you giving the Trackers a handicap to even the playing field?”

            [No.]

            So the High-Ranker is just playing around. I can use her arrogance against her I think. But first I need to find Frelly.

An hour after entering the place, he was blending in with the crowds at the heart of the Faraway Markets, where two-dozen stalls sold street food of many different origins, with one exclusively selling the honey mead that Witchfell Brewers were known for. There were no tables or chairs for those buying food and drink, but there was a highly-energetic Street Sweeper ready to clean up any mess people left behind.

The tug aiming him towards the Guild had changed slightly and was now pointing eastward along the bay, which Oceanview district and its Port was nestled along. It seemed to be possibly leading him to the very edge of Irongate district, where the Sentinel gaols were located. That was the last place in Eventide that he wanted to visit, given his long history with the city’s peacekeepers.

            Despite looking around for her and knowing that she always came through here several times a day, Ashlan had yet to spot Frelly amongst the shops and customers crowding them.

            Camouflaged by the shadow of a stall that sold baked mullet, as well as other fish-based dishes, he kept his eyes on the people that came and went, trying to spot either Frelly or one of the kids she ‘mentored’. The fragrant herby scent of a baked mullet wrapped in fig leaves made his mouth water, as he watched it being handed to an awaiting customer.

            The Faraway Markets were an odd fixture in the city, he’d always thought. It was too expensive for most E- and D-tiers to afford shopping around in, and it lay within Oceanview which seemed to mostly cater to B-tiers and above. However, those same people looked down on the Markets, due to their tendency to be crowded, which led to the end result of mostly C-tiers coming here. Of course, the High-Rankers would often send their servants to shop around on their behalves.

            Ashlan had spotted at least three such people coming through the heart of the Markets, and yet Frelly was nowhere to be seen, despite always favouring such servants as her targets. After all, they themselves were Low-Ranked, but carried their masters’ money.

            Back when he’d first met her, she’d been going after anyone’s coin purse, so long as it chinked with money. Ashlan had caught her in the act and chased her for probably three hours before eventually having to give up. Somehow she’d found him the next day and asked if he wanted to partner up with her. Despite being Unassignable she had a wicked sleight of hand and she’d been impressed by his ability to notice what she was doing.

            He’d worked together with her every day for a few weeks after their first meeting, usually as a spotter or distraction, while she pilfered a decent sum of coins, of which he received a share. But he had disliked how she sometimes went for the money of people who clearly didn’t have a lot, and, though it took some convincing, it was the reason she now focused solely on the wealthy servants.

            A thud came from behind him, making him jump. Just as he was about to turn around and face whoever just snuck up on him, a hand covered his mouth.

            “Be very-very quiet, Squirrel,” Frelly told him.

            He pushed her hand away.

            “I was looking for you.”

            He glanced up at the canopy cover above the stalls.

            “Where did you come from?”

            And how did you spot me??

            “You should worry more about the ones looking for you,” she replied, poking the tip of his nose.

            “I got my Assignment,” he told her.

            “About time.”

            “The System made me an Assassin.”

            A grin spread across her burnt-caramel complexion. Her dark-brown hair was as wild as always and he was fairly sure she’d been running around on top of the canopies.

            “You’re the new F-tier in town!?”

            “…You heard about that, huh?”

            “It’s all anybody’s talking about!” she said and snickered loudly.

            “Yes, hah hah. Deeply ironic, I know.”

            “System’s a bastard. I told you.”

            “My intro Contract pays five-hundred Silvers,” he replied, gloating.

            Frelly punched him in the shoulder as hard as she could. Her knuckles hit him right on the bone, sending an electric shock down his entire right arm.

            “Fuck! Ow!”

            “If you want my help getting rid of your tail, I want half.”

            “Screw that,” he replied, rubbing his shoulder. “I’ll get rid of them myself.”

            “A quarter,” she quickly said.

            “I’ll tell you what,” Ashlan proposed, “I might need your help when it comes time to—”

            He ran the back of his thumb across his throat.

            “If you help me now, I’ll definitely hire you later. The pay is gonna be worth it, trust me.”

            Frelly narrowed her radiant dark-green eyes.

            “Ashlan Grey… if you’re lying to me, I’ll punch you so hard in your—!”

            “I’m serious!” he promised.

            Frelly suddenly pushed him up against the wall of the fish shop, her eyes transfixed on someone in the crowd.

            Ashlan followed her gaze and spotted the D-tier Tracker. She’d yet to notice them. Sweat was running down her face and she looked extremely frustrated. It probably wasn’t good for her reputation that she’d been unable to even locate the F-tier target she was given to hunt.

            “Did you see the other Tracker?” he whispered in her ear.

            “She was sitting atop one of the stone pillars when I saw her.”

            Ashlan couldn’t help but look up. The tops of the stone pillars, between which the sun-shading canopies were attached, were hidden from his current vantage point, but she would be pretty easy to notice if he was outside the shaded stalls.

            Those pillars are like five metres off the ground… She definitely has the ‘Climber’ Skill to be able to scale those.

            “I guess she’s waiting for me to leave the Markets,” he said. “I kind of figured she’d chase after me some more first.”

            After running her tired eyes across the crowded food Vendors, the D-tier Tracker moved down a row of stalls and disappeared.

Frelly pulled herself away from him, then asked, “What kind of Skills did you get?”

“Skill,” he corrected her.

“What?”

“I just got one. F-tier really gets the short end of the stick.”

“System’s really a bastard, huh?” she repeated with a grin.

“Yeah, well…”

“What’s it do?”

“It lets me blend in with crowds and shadows really well. That D-tier Tracker couldn’t even spot me, when she looked right at me earlier.”

“I saw you just fine,” Frelly argued.

“Maybe because I wanted you to see me?”

“Do you think it’s that flexible?”

“Who knows?” he replied with a shrug.

Perhaps it only works to hide me from people I don’t want to be spotted by? I mean, I was searching for Frelly, so maybe that’s why she could see me like normal. Although, Joel didn’t notice me earlier until I spoke to him.

Granted, it’s a somewhat-magical Skill, which means it could work in really unpredictable ways.

If Ashlan had gotten one of the more well-known Professions, the knowledge of how the Starter Skills worked would be easy enough to find, but given that Assassins were rare and secretive, finding someone outside the Guild to explain how Lurk worked would be impossible.

I really need to get into the Guild!

“Did you go by Lucy’s stall?” Frelly asked, pulling him out of his thoughts.

He nodded. “She let me hide there for a bit.”

“You smell like shit.”

Ashlan frowned. “I didn’t get to pick the perfume.”

“My dad always used to smell like that after he came home from the brothel,” she reminisced darkly.

Frelly never talked much about her father, but Ashlan was pretty sure he wasn’t a man worth learning about, seeing as he’d beaten her up pretty badly after she was declared Unassignable by the System.

“So,” she started, “How can I help the Trash-Rank Assassin?”

Great, another nickname…

She was already calling him ‘Squirrel’ for the way he ran and climbed up buildings. Apparently, it was meant to be insulting, but he kind of liked it.

“We need to talk to Johan and see if he’ll let us borrow some cloaks. We’ll also need at least two of your best runners.”

Frelly seemed to catch on to what he was planning, as she said, “Po and Tommy are around, they’re tall enough right?”

“They’re perfect,” he told her.

            “Ready?” Ashlan asked Frelly and the two boys, who were both a year younger than him.

            “What do we do if we’re caught?” asked Po in that soothingly-deep voice of his.

They had narrowly avoided catching the attention of the D-tier Tracker just minutes prior by hiding in the shadows of Johan’s stall, when she ran past with a desperate look plastered on her face.

            “They won’t hurt anyone who isn’t me,” Ashlan told them, although he had no assurances that this was the case.

            Tommy nodded, all business. “I’m ready.”

            All four of them were about the same height, with Frelly being slightly taller, mainly because of her wild mane of untameable hair. Of course, their builds were different. Po was a bit of a chubster, thanks to his father who was a C-tier Baker specialising in pastries, and Tommy was built like a veteran Sentinel at just age fifteen. Frelly and Ashlan were both skinny and mostly lean muscle, although lately his legs had gotten a bit bigger.

            However, their build differences didn’t matter with the four mostly-identical dark cotton cloaks that Johan had given them. Since he was an E-tier Seamster, he often screwed up when trying out new types of clothing, and he’d just so happened to have a batch of botched cloaks for them to use for Ashlan’s scheme.

            “Where are we running to?” Frelly asked.

            “Irongate.”

            “Funny,” she replied drily. “And the actual destination?”

            Ashlan had realised and come to terms with the fact that the magical tug of the System was most certainly pointing him in that accursed direction. He supposed that if one were to hide a Guild of Assassins, doing it below the noses of the city’s peacekeepers was kind of smart, if not for the fact that getting in-and-out was a huge risk.

            “We’ll aim for Greenhill, and, once we’re there, if the Trackers haven’t tried to stop us, then we’ll split up in two. Po and Tommy will head for Northside, and Frelly and I will head for Irongate.”

            The Unassignable Thief shook her head in disbelief.

            “Half,” she mouthed to him, then pulled up the hood of the cloak.

            The rest followed suit.

            “Let’s go!” Ashlan said, and the four of them ran out from where they’d been hiding behind Joel’s fruit stall and down the row that led to the outside.

            The golden light washed over them, immediately making the cloaks feel like a dumb decision, but Ashlan wasn’t concerned by a bit of sweat. As expected, Frelly pulled out ahead, but he hung back to match the speed of Tommy, while Po flagged behind. Despite always being the last to finish any race, Po made up for his lack of speed with enthusiasm and endurance.

            Without revealing his face, Ashlan stole a look over his shoulder, seeing the waves of the Faraway Markets’ canopies and the stone pillars they were fastened to, which rose above. He easily spotted the dark silhouette seated atop one of the pillars, but as soon as he’d spotted the B-tier Tracker, she was already on the move.

            This time she was proving the true strength of her Rank, as she leapt from pillar to pillar, clearing the roughly ten metre gaps between them with ease, while her eyes were locked in on them.

            I think it’s working.

            Frelly made a simple gesture of her fingers splayed out and they all put some space between each other, while Po continued to flag behind. He was definitely not built for sprinting and, at the rate with which the Tracker was crossing the ‘roof’ of the Markets, he’d be caught up to soon.

            It’s okay, he’s just a distraction. The aim is to confuse her, not have all four of us reach Greenhill at the same time.

            The crowds were flowing mostly against them, as people were coming to the area to peruse the stalls, after finishing their various Contracts for the day, now that the afternoon was drawing to a close. While Ashlan’s group would be easier to track as they moved against the current, it wasn’t as if the Tracker could just run atop the heads of the crowds to get to them.

            Frelly was skipping around people with ease, startling a few with her sudden movements. Ashlan thought she was graceful in the way she danced around. Tommy just made people move out of the way, since a head-on collision was sure to hurt them more than him.

            Ashlan was enveloped by the effect of Lurk, so he was, for the most part, invisible to the crowds. However, it made manoeuvring a bit more troublesome, as Frelly and Tommy both created ripples in the flow that he then had to navigate with very little warning.

            A loud oomph sounded from fifteen metres back or so, easily overshadowing the voices and footsteps of the crowds. Tommy glanced over his shoulder, while Ashlan and Frelly continued aiming them towards the edge of the Greenhill district.

            “She just nailed Po,” he said in a tempered tone. His voice had yet to fully change into that of an adult, creating a strange mismatch with his gruff appearance.

            The running from earlier was rearing its head, as Ashlan’s calves and shins were really starting to feel sore. His homemade sandals were definitely not a great choice of footwear for a chase like this either, with the soles of his feet feeling like they were covered in bruises.

            Frelly did a strange undulating motion with her hand.

            What does that mean? Is it meant to be a snake? Or a fish maybe?

            “‘Create chaos’,” Tommy translated.

            Leading by example, as was her favourite mode, Frelly began intentionally tripping people up, yanking on their coin purses, along with other disruptive movements that started causing a stir. Tommy went out of his way to barrel into people, while Ashlan just tried to avoid colliding with any of their victims.

            He spared a brief glimpse back, but couldn’t see the Tracker above the crowd. What he did see, however, was a group of three Sentinels making their way towards them and blowing their whistles. As with all of the peacekeepers in the city’s many districts, it was usually a bunch of D- and C-tiers led by a B-tier drinking in a bar somewhere, as his minions did the heavy lifting.

            The crowds naturally dispersed as the men ran after Frelly and Tommy, utterly ignoring Ashlan’s existence thanks to his Skill. He used this to his advantage, steering around the trouble they were causing, just as they reached the edge of Greenhill, where the open roads of Oceanview were replaced by narrower streets and alleys.

            The district had a lot of four-storey residential blocks surrounding large park areas, and it wasn’t the first time they’d escaped the Sentinels by running here. If not for the fact that the nearest park was in the opposite direction of Irongate, it would’ve been a good place to try and escape the Trackers.

            If I can make it to Irongate, the B-tier probably won’t follow me. But if she realises that’s where I’m heading, she’ll definitely take this way more seriously.

A roar came from Tommy, as he suddenly spun on his heel and headed westward, people almost tripping over each other to get out of his way. The Sentinels, sensing an easy arrest, followed after him. Perhaps they were thinking that catching him would be child’s play with the three of them, but Ashlan was certain that Tommy could lose them in the narrow pathways.

Ashlan followed after Frelly, as she broke off from the crowds and went into an alley, but as soon as they linked up, she said, “Tracker’s still tailing us.”         

He glanced back, but their pursuer had yet to break from the crowd and enter the alleyway.

            “I have an idea,” he told her. “But we have to do it fast. As soon as we round the next corner.”

            A couple holding hands filled the space up ahead of them, and Frelly took the opportunity to show off, leaping over their linked arms and landing in a tucked roll, before springing back up. All without losing any momentum.

            Ashlan used the couple’s confused pause to slide between the woman and the alley wall, then hurried after the Unassignable Thief.

            As the mouth of the narrow path came up, he pulled her around the corner, immediately taking off his cloak.

“Continue to Northside,” he said, as he gave it to Frelly. She took her own cloak off and handed it to him, while putting his on. Then she was off again, going to the left that headed north, while he continued following the larger street that cut across to the right.

            As Frelly disappeared around the bend in the street, Ashlan took her cloak and quickly tossed it over the head of a random muscular guy, who looked like he was probably a Builder, based on his calluses and dark tan.

            Before anyone could notice him, he ducked into the mouth of the next alleyway, letting the shadows envelop him.

            I hope this works, he prayed.

            A second later the B-tier Tracker flew down the side of the building they’d been running alongside in the alley, immediately jumping on the guy who was standing around with a cloak in his arms, looking mightily confused.

            Although the man seemed eager for the confrontation, perhaps assuming the Tracker had been the one to pull the prank, she immediately left him and went down the way that Frelly had gone.

            It was possible that she’d picked up on the perfume Ashlan was wearing, but with the way that the wind blew in from the southeast, and the fact that Frelly now carried the cloak that was infused with his sweat, she wouldn’t notice until it was too late.

            Unless she has some tracking Skill that ignores the laws of reality.

            Ashlan gave it a couple of minutes, just to make sure she wasn’t coming back or hiding atop one of the buildings, before he finally continued on his way towards Irongate where the tug of the System Contract was pointing him.

            I should hurry before she catches up to Frelly…

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