The wind raged against the sunlit coastline as waves crashed against the rocky shores. Particles of cliff crumbled into the ocean which drew back before launching another strike at the iron wall defending the land. The sunlight glistened in the aquatic homeland creating a sense of hidden beauty and gracefulness regardless of its actions.

Atop the weakening cliff a young teen male stood. Blonde hair brushed back, hanging low to his neck, and shining sapphire spheres of solitude glanced over the sea. A loose red shirt hung from his torso yet was hidden by a zipped black jacket. His trousers were ripped and torn and hung over his black trainers. On his belt line he kept with him two razor sharp daggers; just in case he was ever in danger.

Tristan let out a heavy sighed and looked behind him. Fire roared in the fierce breeze and smouldering ash was blasted into his face and he brought an arm to cover his eyes. The fire reached up towards the heavens above and lashed at the air angrily and out of control.

Tristan looked away ashamed. He’d been the cause of the fire that had left him alone. What started as a simple prank on his rival turned quickly into a furious inferno which left the entire village burnt to the ground. He’d only planned for the fire to scorch his rival’s arm when he lit the oven. Yet now his plan had gone astray and he was the sole survivor.

Looking down once more at the golden shores Tristan let out another sigh before turning around. He didn’t know any life other than the one he had had in the village. Whilst others may have thought their life was over Tristan had other ideas. He figured that he’d make a fresh start. He’d find work in a job he did well. He’d start a new life; a new adventure.

A few days after the fire he’d found exactly what he was looking for. The other side of the island nation on which he lived he’d found a small village and instantly he’d been taken in. Whether it was sympathy for his tatty appearance or for what his new carers wanted Tristan didn’t mind. It paid and soon he’d be able to at least have his own house in this village. He was happy doing his job regardless of what it required.

Looking up at the setting sun he looked towards the woman who had taken him in. She had long brown hair down to her back which was tied back in a single ponytail. Her hair complimented her glowing hazel eyes yet if you were to look deep enough and they’d turn a blood red. On this beautiful evening she’d opted to wear a knee length grey skirt and a white blouse. Tristan winked at her and leapt up onto the roof. He’d been assigned a mission and was ready to complete it quickly to return to his lover.

His right hand unhooked the dagger from his belt and he held it behind him as he leapt over brick roofs until he reached his target destination. Silently disembarking from the roof he glanced into the window and saw his victim. He carefully stepped away from the window and leaned on the cold wall. Taking a deep breath he closed his eyes calming himself. He was ready.

Launching a powerful kick at the wooden door it splintered under impact and just before the female’s squeal ended her neck was dripping with blood. The woman’s husband growled in anger and launched himself at Tristan but realised he was heading for his downfall. Tristan stepped back before thrusting forwards and plunged both blades into the man’s ribs and pierced his heart; killing him instantly.

This was his new lifestyle. He’d opted to go into this business for his carer and lover. He’d chosen to become a hired assassin. He didn’t care about the risks. He did it out of love and appreciation. This was who he’d chosen to become.