“They spit in his face then wonder why he is so angry,” Father shouted over my constant tears. They never stop. I don’t think they ever will.

“We have to deal with him,” mother said.

“I’ll kill Andrew if it’s the thing that breaks this family. I don’t care!” He stormed out of the room and that was year five.

——-

“Mother, why has father not returned yet?” I asked as she brushed my hair with her fingers and then began to tie the strands together.

“Cleo, he is-“ she began. A sigh escaped her lips.

“He died?” I asked.

“Cleo,” she repeated.

“It’s because of Andrew isn’t it.” I said.

“Yes. Cleo, it’s because of Andrew,” she said. Her presence left the room with her body. I let a tear slip down my cheek and I rolled over in my bed.

I wondered what I could do to make myself useful. Make myself worth it. I wanted to do whatever it took to bring Andrew down and to kill him. That’s what I was planning. That marked the end of year nine.

——-

“Cleo, get up here, you have visitors,” mother called from our small home. We had been evicted from our first home three years ago.

I ran up the little hill after I rinsed of my daggers. I brushed the dust from my worn clothes and entered through the back door that hung loosely on its hinges.

“Cleo, this is Commander Marchesto. He will be escorting you from here to Jansonova. He had set up a formal training camp for children like you. Those devoted to their leaders. In this case the king of Horensa.

“When shall we depart,” I asked.

“Now. We shall leave now!” He ordered. I rushed behind him and leaped onto a brown course they lead me to and we where of. That marked the end of my thriteenth year.

——-

“You all have done well in exceeding my standards. You have pushed through to the end of the begining. Some of you will move forward whilst others of you wil not be so fortunate.” Commanded Marchesto preached. “These are the ones who will move forward in their lives as assassins and as thieves. I hope your ready. First, Max, Rena, Miya and last, Cleo. You four may leave the building.”

We formed a line and exited. No one said a word to me. No one congratulated me. I had no one. I beloved I never would. That marked the end of my sixteenth year.

——-

“Cleo, do you understand your orders?” Commander Marchesto asked.

“Yes,” I answered.

“Then you are free to go and begin them.” He said.

“Yes sir,” I went to exit the room but then he stopped me.

“Wait,”

“Yes?” I asked.

“That prince is a tricky one. So is Andrew and his clan.” Commander said.

“I understand,” I did. I really did. My family was part of that clan. I was part of that clan. But the I lost both my parents to that wicked man. He would die.

“You may go,”

That marked the begging of my seventeenth year. After that I made it my goal to forget the past. Everything I did after only made it harder to remember. Did that stop me? No. Because when I put my mind on something. It would get done. No matter what!