Childhood of an Assassin (Azazel)

Italy
Sicaruis Villa
Six Years Ago

Six year old Sergius ran across the green lawn that covered the backyard of the Villa, separating the large house from the forest that lay on the vast grounds of the property. The land has been owned by the Sicarius assassins for centuries, each generation adding their own adding something new. Upon reaching a tree the boy easily lifted himself up into the branches, climbing higher and higher.

Where was the wimp? Azazel wandered through the whole Villa to find his missing son. He was not in his bedroom, nor in the east wing. His wife hadn't seen her son either, and Lucifer was not around to ask. There was now only the forest and garden left, thought and done Azazel put on his shoes and walked out to find his son.

The gardener on the other hand had seen the child running across the lawn towards the woods. ''Sergius Sicarius!'' The old man shouted as he entered the woods looking around.

Sergius looked down from his position in the tree when he heard his father's voice. The young boy sighed. He always seemed to get in trouble. For no reason. "Yes, Father?" he said as he jumped down onto the ground from the lower branched, landing easily on his feet.

The little one was climbing trees, well that was good for his future job as an Sicarius assassin. ''It is good that you practice son. But letting your mother worry sick for your little adventures here in the woods are not accaptable.''

He gave his son a burning hit with open hand on the left side on his head. ''Now every time you think about running away like that, think about the pain I will give you.'' He sighted. His son did not like being hit, but that was the only proper way of learning in the Sicarius family.

Luc had just finished training and needed some air to cool down. He left the outdoor arena and immediatly spotted his father with Sergius. This could not be good he thought as he leant against the wall to get his breathing back under control. He'd hate to be in his brothers place right now.

Sergius yelped once his father's hand hit his face. He should be used to it by now. The boy rubbed his burning cheek and squeezed his eyes shut to stop the tears. How he hated crying. "I am sorry, Father," he siad as he looked at the ground.

''Are you going to bawl like a child Sergius? People will try to kill you, they will stick daggers in you whenever they get the chance. And you cry for a slap?'' He shook his head, what would the world make of this boy. Because he would clearly not be an assassin. Azazel wondered to himself what he had done wrong.

"No!" Sergius spat at the ground. "I am not going to cry!" he snapped angrily. Why did his father have to be like this all the time? Always looming over him.

''Good.'' He looked around. ''You have your dagger on you I hope. Because I want you to hunt. Find an animal, and kill it. You have precisely fifteen minutes from now.'' Azazel said and looked at the clock on his arm.

Srgius nodded his head, taking his dagger out, still looking at the ground. The little boy felt a snarl forming on his face as his father ordered him to hunt. Both of them knew perfectly well that his hunting skills were nowhere near that level. It was just one of the ways for his father to tell him that he was going to be punished at the end of the night no matter what he did. The man never needed an excuse to do that, he just enjoyed taunting his sons like that, in Sergius's opinion.

The boy turned and strode off, going a little bit deeper into the forest. Stopping, he took a few minutes to look around. Everything was so still. The sun has almost set, making it more difficult to catch any moments with his eyes. Sergius heard a twig snap to his left. The boy turned his head seeing s a squirrel ccrouching by the trunk of a tree. Perfect. He knew that with the time he was given he would not be able to find any more suitable prey. He raised the hand hat was holding his dagger silnetly, taking aim. The little boy held his breath as he let the knife fly from his hand and sink deeply into the trunk of the tree, scaring the squirrel away. He swore he cut off a bit of the animal's tail. But that didn't matter. He was out of time.

He watched as his son ran of deeper into the woods. He'd never make it, and Azazel knew it. But they boy needed to be under pressure because one day he'd make it at time. And possibly learn something also. Minutes passed by and he waited by the border between the forest and their garden.

Direct on time the young boy came hanging with his head, holding a piece of squirrel tail in his head. ''Was that everything you got?'' He said with a stern voice and looked displeased. ''You are a Sicarius but can't even kill a squirrel.'' What a disgrace for this family.

Sergius didn't say anything as he stood in front of his father with the tail in his hand. He looked at the ground, a scowl on his face. How was he supposed to catch anything at his age!

''You are to answer when I speak to you!'' Azazel almost shouted. It was not that he was furious, but this was not tolerable. When he himself was six he had already killed a human. He had been on his first assassin misson at the age of eight. And was fully learned at thirteen. But his sons was no where near. What had he done wrong? Had he not been the parent he was supposed to. He must have been too nice.

"I'm six!" Sergius snapped at his father as he lifted his head. "I did not have so much practice. You can't expect me to be an assasin now!" he almost yelled, frustration building inside of him. His father liked to taunt him like that. How was he supposed to lear in such environment?

''I'm not expecting you to be an assassin. I'm expecting you to be an Sicarius.'' He shook his head, sighting from disappointment. ''You know what comes next.''

Sergius looked away from his father, hangining his head agaign. He felt so angry. There was nothing he could have done to prevent punishment. Perhaps he shouldn't have gone out to the woods in the first place. His father always had a talents for blowing such things up.

''Now..'' He said with calm voice. ''I want you to stick the dagger in your leg.'' His expression was emotionless. Azazel said it like it was the most natural thing in the world to force his own flesh and blood to shove a dagger into his leg. Which it was, if you were an potentional assassin of the Sicarius family.

The boy's eyes widened in fear as his Azazel voiced the order. "Please, Father," Sergius beggged taking a few steps away from the man. There was no way he would shove that knife itno his own leg.

The fear grew in Sergius eyes, and the man could do nothing but feel success.
''You are pathetic son. And you do not deserve the last name Sicarius. A disgrace for this family, for your brother and mother, your ancestors and most of all for yourself.'' Azazel did not know what to do with the matter of a wimp to son.

''But for me you are air. You are air until you have proven the difference.''

And with those harsh words, said to a scared six year old child, Azazel walked back to the manor.

Katerina's gaze settled on the boys from the top floor of the manor through the large window. Azazel had lost his temper with Sigarius, that much was clear. A small frown threatened to escape through her rehearsed, cold yet beautiful expression. Wrapping her shawl around her torso, the lady descended elegantly and walked slowly out of the manor to her husband, silently studying the situation.

She raised an eyebrow at the man calmly, as if the expression voiced her question, then continued to walk further to her children. A twitch at the corner of her mouth revealed somewhat of a kind smile.

"Sergius?" Katerina tilted her head to the side slightly.

''Leave him be Katerina.'' He said, sounding much calmer than only moments ago. Baddest assassin or not he had great respect for his wife. Though he did not like when she decided to come between his training with the sons.

''Until he has proven to be a true Sicarius I shall threat him like air. Like nothing. Because frankly our son is nothing to me.''

Sergius hung his head once ahead, feeling his cheeks burning with shame. There really was no way to completely please his father. There never was. At least this time the man did not hurt him anymore.