I walked into the temple, my master behind me. There was a cool yet calm breeze that passed through the temple, as if soothing the wounds and scars of the past. I brought my army not to fight, but to show my ambition. He was sincere, and his apology caused me to doubt my path. Perhaps I would be able to come home, and rejoin the warriors of the clan. No, our clan. I prepared myself, the temple more quiet than death its-self. "You must destroy the box, Zed." my Master's voice seemed to echo for eternity. "Only you can, as the sole possessor of its techniques." His voice was flat as usual. "Yes, Master." I prepared my blades, and my shadows, concentrating on every moment. This was my redemption, my homecoming.
I heard a small sound from behind me, which I knew too well; A hidden blade tucked inside a shirt sleeve. I swiftly turned, instinctively putting myself into a guarding and counterattacking position, only to hear a screeching sound as a blade tore through my hel