The Winter Rose

The Rose walked through the snowy plains on that cold, Winter night, the bright northern star above her, shining bright and lighting her path. The tabbit's body ached, each soft, padded step through the cold snow was a struggle. But she forced her way through, with a smile on her face. She couldn't feel her left arm, it hung limply by her side, and she clutched it with her right hand. Crimson drops of thick blood left a bloody trail in the white snow.

She's an assassin, and she made a rookie mistake. She got caught in the act. Sure, she took down her target, a rebel liuetenant fighting against the Kingdom of Reinas' monarchy, but she had to fight her way out of the small harbour town of Guadner they were stationed in. It was supposed to be easy, that's why she was sent in, hired by one of the noble Reinas knights to minimize the bloodshed.

It was a slaughterhouse.

Stealth was on her side for the most part, sneaking in was easy. Luring the rebel into a back room was even easier. Dressed in her garb, she fitted in too well as a traveller, and using a little bit of seduction, a kiss here, a stroke there, her target was like putty in her hands. It didn't take much to convince him to go back into a store room with her. With a flick of her slender wrist, curved dagger slit across her target's throat, and blood cascaded down over his chest as he gurgled quietly on his own blood.

All she needed to do was escape.

But no, his buddies wanted in on the action and had followed the duo in, only to catch the sight of one of their leaders struggle for life. That was when Den had to fight her way out. She had speed and sobriety as an ally, it helped with the rapid dash towards the men who stood at the door. Her dagger's thirst was quenched. One of the bar wenches shrieked and the bar stood to a standstill. Now the Rose was in trouble.

Stealth, speed, sobriety, all of that was for naught, not when her assailants had numbers on their side. It was messy, and she fought dirty, she had to if she wanted to survive. She ended up coming out on top, barely, being chased out of the bar. The fight came to the rooftops of the small, Victorian town, but she was making a run for it. No need to stay and fight when she didn't have to. She was injured anyway, and needed to get out of there. She ended up losing the the rebels, using the night to her advantage and staying in the shadows, eventually losing her pursuers.

Slipping away into the night, the Rose escaped the town on foot, using the srrounding woods as cover. Satisfied she was safe, she emerged to travel the snowy plains, using the northern star to guide her southwards. She had an escape planned, a horse nearby which she could use to travel back and report her mission a success. She allowed herself a smug grin at that thought, despite the pain shooting up her side.

Each rose has its thorns, and this one was no exception.

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The Rose is owned by  rebelborn
Story by me.

Art done by the talented  lapres Go check her out!