Memoir of a Fallen Angel Assassin

Shadows encasing the mind, coiling around the body, seeping into the very core of the soul. I do not know how I ended up here or why I fell so far. I was wounded, gravely, feeling my life slipping away from my body as I laid where I fell. Why am I here, why am I dying, I didn’t know how I even got here yet I could feel my blood leaking from my broken body. I didn’t want to die, not like this in this place. The cold fingers of death and shadows clawing over my form, whispers of the servants of the death Goddess searching for me in this place. I fell even too far for them to easily find it seemed, I wasn’t sure if I should find that amusing or sad at the time. There were other whispers though, closer to me than I would have liked. It promised my life, a way to continue on and not lose my current mortal form on this earth. It promised strength to get back on my feet, to walk again and leave this place where its warm. All I had to do was sever a part of my soul to the dark, allow it to be replaced with the shadows around me.

So the deal was made, I sold a part of my immortal soul to the shadows that hid me from death. At the time I didn’t have to really think about it, I only knew I wanted to live. Now, years later, I know there was a price for what I accepted. Mortals can easily sell their souls and have it only last until they die and rejoin the ether. Devas though, when they sell a part of their souls, it carries over to the next life and the next until they either become consumed by the growing shadow magic within and change into that of a Rakshasa. A fate worse than permanent death for any Deva known in any part of the world and time. I can not take back my deal, all I can do is use what I have and try to reclaim what I have lost before my fall, remember who I once was and find myself back in the grace I once belonged too.

I took up a blade, the shadow power coiled in the empty space in my soul compelling me so, guiding me to a way of life that will keep me alive and stay that way until I was strong enough to carve my path. It was simple at first, slitting the throats of other corrupted souls and earning coin for my services. I grew used to the life, taking on more risks and gaining more coin to keep myself clothed and fed. In the past I may have been sloppy, as all begins are, but in due time I refined my skill to something sharper than my weapons. As a Deva I have countless years to master any hobby I find myself in, all the time to find where I once fell from and rebuild myself of who I once was.

I couldn’t tell you when I was approached by the Guild I belong to now, nor will I if I could do to the secrecy held to the hearts of all Assassins like I have become. I was now a Executioner, a agent used to level the power in any place I cross and do so in way no one would know I had a hand in the changing tides. I can still feel the shadow magic in the cracks of my soul, but it no longer burns me as it had before. I have accepted the powers I gained, and found kinship with the others of my Guild. I have found home and peace, learning the techniques needed to finish my missions and do so swiftly. I have grown powerful in my time with them, at peace with my deal during my time with the guild and doing as I was asked in my missions.

Now I have gone with the blessings of my Guild, searching out places needing a little more balance in power, and refine my skills better out in the world once more. They have told me I will find fellow brothers and sisters on my travels, a safe place to rest my head when needing a place to disappear from the public eye. I only hope this is true when it comes time for my disappearing act.