The Forgotten Tale of Oscurio Dathell

If you haven't read parts I and II, it's fairly important that you do. Again, fair warning, the content  is definitely heavier than previous stories.

The Forgotten Tale of Oscurio Dathell

Part III

The dagger met its mark with deadly precision. Were the figure an actual man, he would surely be dead. Sand poured from the dummy’s wound and onto the ground.

“Brilliant, Oscurio! I never even saw you! …Oscurio?

“Here.”

Rothan jumped at the voice that came from behind him.

“Great Nerull, boy! Your talent has far exceeded my expectations, and only nineteen years old. You will be brilliant, my boy. Far better than your worthless father ever was.”

“I don’t like to speak of him.”

“Yes, you still don’t speak much at all, do you?”

“Children are meant to be seen and not to be heard, grandfather.” Oscurio gave a fleeting thought of his mother.

“But you are no longer a child, are you my little shadow dancer? You’re a young man! And I’ve wanted to give you missions worthy of men for years now. Are you ready yet?”

“…No…”

“But why, Oscurio? You killed your father without hesitation, what are a few other meaningless lives?

“I said I’m not ready!” Came the unheard of outburst from Oscurio.

“Don’t you dare take that tone of voice with me. Don’t forget who brought you here, who taught you. Now tell me why you won’t take on some tasks!”

“I just…I want to see her first. I want to know why she never came for me…”

“Who are we talking about?”

Oscurio’s voice dropped to a pained whisper. “Mother.”

“Ell? Ha! I doubt she’s even alive.”

“She would only be in her mid-forties. And I doubt she would have moved-“

“No, boy, I mean because of her job.”

“Yes, I remember you saying something about that when you took me.”

“Are you saying you never knew? She was training you and you never knew!”

“Training me for what?”

“She’s an assassin, Oscurio! Always has been! Your father may have been a poor student but he wasn’t that useless. No average woman could have fought Rowan off the way she did before you were born, especially a pregnant one!”

It made sense, but Oscurio couldn’t accept it. “Y-you’re lying…she was kind to others. She shared food.”

“To build trust, child, to have others let their guard down. Trust always makes things easier for an assassin.”

“No! You’re wrong! Mother would never do something like that!”

“Where do you think she got all that food to share? She would have to have been rich to buy that much food, she stole it from the people she killed.”

“But…when my father…how could he have…”

“How did he manage to rape her? I’m sure she had just returned from a job, it gets exhausting from time to time.”

“Shut up!” Oscurio turned from his grandfather, not wanting his tears to show.

“That’s why you killed your father, isn't it? Because you didn't think she could? Rowan merely took her by surprise, had you shown up a minute later I’m sure she would have finished him.’

“I said shut up!”

Oscurio’s fist connected with Rothan’s chin. Blood spattered the sand on the floor. Rothan looked at the young man with utter disgust.

            “How dare you? You think that you can insult me in this way? You think that I won’t kill you faster than you killed your worthless father? You think your whore of a mother is worth dying over? In a minute you’ll wish she had let your father cut you from her belly!”

            Rothan stepped back into the shadows and disappeared.

            “No”

            Oscurio held his hand forward and the shadows split, revealing the dagger wielding Rothan. He then dashed toward his grandfather, pulling his own dagger in the process. Rothan stood fearlessly, expecting this to be a quick and decisive battle.

            He was right.

            Oscurio let the shadows cascade back upon them, removing them both from sight. Rothan noticed the slight movement over his shoulder, turned, and drove the dagger into the neck of the figure.

            It was a distraction, a shadow shape.

            Oscurio came from behind his mentor and put a dagger into his gut.

            “I will find my mother. And I will see if you are lying. If you are not, if she is what you say she is…then she will see you in hell!”

            Oscurio dragged the dagger across Rothan’s stomach, pulled his head backward, pushed his spine forward, and let Rothan fold in half…backward.

The Forgotten Tale of Oscurio Dathell

Part IV

She stalked her prey with utmost silence. Nothing she did made a sound, at no point did she leave the shadows. She could see the man in his bed, his wife absent, having been the one to arrange the man’s demise. The moment was perfect, she drank it in, savoring her power over this insignificant man. She drew her dagger and stalked closer to him, only to find his eyes open, staring directly at her.

No…not staring at her, staring at…nothing. It was a thousand yard stare, one that traveled right through her. She had seen that stare before; it was the stare of lifelessness. Her prey was dead and had been for some time.

She quickly looked around the room to see if she was being watched. The curtain moved…the closet was cracked open…shadows everywhere…she suddenly realized that eyes could be peer at her from anywhere. She slowly put one foot behind the other, moving toward the door, only to step into the young man standing behind her.

“Who are you?” She brandished her dagger toward the stranger. He only smiled and looked directly into her eyes.

She knew those eyes. “Son?”

The name brought a tear to his eye and a scowl to his face. She could now see her child in that face, the boy who she protected for so long.

“Son, what are you doing here?”

He simply walked over to the dead man and stuck his dagger in the shoulder as if the man was an oversized pin cushion.

“You killed him? Oh, gods…I-I never wanted this for you.” She could see the pain on his face, the sense of betrayal. “I know I never told you, I never meant to lie to you.”

That brought out the anger. Her son looked at her with more fury than she thought he could have.

“You didn’t need to know what I did! I was just trying to protect you! I’m so sorry, son, I didn’t mean to hurt you! I always meant to come for you, but Rothan would have killed you!”

Her son simply stared at her with cold eyes.

“I always wondered about you, son. I thought about you every day.” Her voice was softening now, her apology becoming a quiet plea. “I’m so sorry, son. So sorry I lied. So sorry I let you be taken. So sorry I never came for you.”

She bowed her head and let some tears fall to the ground. Silence dominated the room for what seemed like hours, but was only moments. Her son still said nothing, just stared. Her shame came out in a burst of frustration. “Dammit, say something to me!” He only stared back at her.

She had seen that stare before, that thousand yard stare.

The dead stare.

“Children should be seen and not heard, mother.” And he grabbed his dagger from the man’s shoulder and drove it into his own throat.

Blood poured from her son’s self inflicted would. Ell screamed with horror, with fear, with utter confusion. She lost all train of thought until darkness filled the room.

Oscurio threw away the lump of flesh he had cut out and then gulped down the healing potion. He could feel it magically knitting his wound and breath returned to his lungs. His mother would soon find out that he had simply extended a shadow over her and he needed to be prepared for what was next.

The shadows moved away and he could see her again, panic all over her face. He stepped forward and spit a mouthful of blood into her eyes. She stumbled backward and fell to the ground. He approached her, dagger drawn, sadistic glee in his eyes. He had never seen his mother afraid before. She was always so strong, so confident, and yet here she was, completely at his mercy.

He kneeled next to her and tears streamed down her face. For a moment, she saw what might have been sympathy in his eyes. “Please, son. I’m so sorry. Don’t do this.”

He gave her the respect of making her death quick. The dagger sank into her heart and she slowly let her eyes close. He stood and looked at the room. The dead man; his mother, both his and her blood mingled on the floor next to her; the chunk of his larynx he had cut out. The magical potion closed his would so he could breathe again, but he knew he would never be able to speak another word. Children should be seen and not heard. Never heard again.

He slowly walked toward the front door of the house, reflecting on his life, seeing how his family had defined him. His grandfather that gave him the name Oscurio; his father, Dath, the first man he killed; his mother, Ell, the only one he ever trusted, the woman who betrayed him, who  never came for him. They defined him, they created him, and he ended each of their lives. He was Oscurio Dathell.

The woman of the house walked in to see if the job was done. When she saw Oscurio, she shouted at him. He had no care what she was saying, he simply swept his hand out and cut her throat, letting her fall behind him. He stepped outside into the cool night and surveyed the world. He had so much hate inside and he just wanted every person to share that with him. So many people, so much potential.

Oscurio smiled.

For those who care: Oscurio was an 8th level Rogue5/Assassin1/Shadowdancer2 

He couldn't actually "talk", but I gave him the Pipes of Sounding, a magical item that allowed him to magically mimic any sound, including a person talking. That was his main form of communication, though he still spoke VERY rarely.