It was not the first time his life flashed before his eyes. As of late, the occurrence had become more and more common, but no amount of exposure prevented the tangs of heartache and guilt that ensued.

***

He had been born to a whore in the slums, but that was all he knew of his parents. His real home, his real family, had been in an orphanage near the market. It was a dingy, terrible place, but it was their dingy, terrible place. Despite its praises he was singing, it was, overall, a terrible place to live. Though it did teach him some very helpful life skills like stealing. And more stealing. And escaping. In hindsight, it didn't seem like much, but they lived off of what they stole. He and his friends ate well.

***

He snapped out of his stupor in time to narrowly dodge an arrow aimed at his head. He groaned in pain as he ran into an alleyway.

***

It was when he became around fourteen years of age when he had met a girl. The first thing he had noticed were her bright green eyes, and the long brown hair that partially covered them. Unfortunately for him, he had noticed her right as he had tried to swipe and apple from a nearby stall. Someone, namely a burly man, grabbed his arm with the intent of cutting off his hand. The girl looked in horror as she fumbled with the money in her coin purse and paid for the apple. Their first time together and she had almost caused him to lose his hand. Fun times.

He was unused to the kindness. She found it cute. He wanted to return the kindness, and she wanted an escort. As he accompanied her, he picked up on her subtle mannerisms. The way she carried herself, her manners, her delicate actions. He quietly wondered what a girl like this was doing in the slums.

They spent the majority of the day together, the girl insisting that he show her all of the liveliest places in the city. It wasn't hard. It was a small city, and there were few places of note. They had enjoyed each other's presence. So much so in fact that he failed to notice when guards had approached them. Remaining calm and collected, he racked his head for possible lies before he had realized that they were not there for him. They were there for her. He stood there dumbfounded. Over the next few weeks, he had decided to forget what happened, but she then showed up again.

***

She was the daughter of a lord. His luck, huh? What noble would want their child associating with a street rat? Nevertheless, she kept visiting him, often sneaking out of the manor during the dead of night to do so. Weeks, months, and eventually a year passed, but they never went too long without each other’s company.

There was an area a little bit outside town that he remembered vividly. It was a pain to get to from the slums, but to see her, it didn't matter. There were not any guards stationed around there, and they could do as they pleased. Talk, laugh, enjoy each other's company. But one of the last times he saw her, she came in tears.

Really, he should have expected it. Arranged marriages were common for nobles, were they not? Yet the though did not quell the tight feeling in his chest. A feeling he could not identify. Perhaps sadness, perhaps anger. Possibly disappointment. Either which way, she had told him of the tighter restrictions placed on her in light of her habitual escapades. Nevertheless, she still tried her damn hardest to see him, as he did her.

***

Another guard greeted him with a blade in hand. His vision was starting to blur. He could not afford to hold back, and with a piercing thrust of his rapier, he killed the guard silently. His tried slowing his breathing, but to no avail. He could not keep this up.

***

He recalled a vivid memory of her birth day. His had been a few months before, in early spring, though that held little weight in the slums, where life was horrible and age was a number. Even still, when she had known, she had wasted no time in getting him a gift. A silver necklace. Impractical? Yes. Dangerous to have? Yes. Expensive? Regrettably. He, despite his skills and his trade (Both of which she was aware of and against), didn't enjoy having someone wasting his money on him. Even still, he could not refuse, and not a day went by that he had not worn it proudly. Therefore, he had to return the favor. He eyed a few jewelers around town, and though they were filled with shiny things, stealing one would be beyond difficult.

Difficult as it would be, he didn't care. He borrowed the tools of a professional thief he had befriended around town, and with practice, became proficient at picking locks. A day before her birthday, in the dead of night, he sneaked. to one of the more modest jeweler's stores and began picking the lock. After about an hour of trial and error, he succeeded, and swiped a gold bracelet from its wares.

Though the guards were livid the morning after, he had gotten away clean. Returning the tools, he put the bracelet in a modest box and held onto it until he could see her again. It was a few days later when he was finally able to give it to her. She was happy. She kissed him.

He froze up. His mind could not register what had happened and why. An intense red began spreading across both his cheeks and hers as they looked away from each other. And it all went downhill from there.

***

Guards. The first word that popped into his mind was the one that most adequately fit the situation. There were guards around him But why? His eyes scanned for an escape route, a nervous habit developed from his trade, but there were none. The girl stood up and tried to explain, but they would not listen to her. He was yanked up by his hair and accused of kidnapping a noble and stealing from jeweler. Despite the girl's protests, he was still dragged off.

He spent three days in a prison before she managed to sneak off to see him. Even then, the guards had caught her and threw her back out. A week passed, and the guards dragged him out of the cell in a terrible state. He thought life in the slums left him malnourished.

On a list of things that he expected, execution was at the top of the list. Next, imprisonment. Meeting her father was pretty far down the list of things he was prepared to face. Though he had been curious, it was noticeable how much she took after her father. The same eyes, the same hair, but he had harsher features. He smiled as he saw a familiar girl pop out from the corner.

The smile was short lived as the lord began speaking. He offered a deal. He would release him on the terms that he would stop meeting with his daughter. Otherwise, he would go back to the prison.

He laughed as they dragged him back behind bars. She tried to see him again, with better results. The guard had fallen asleep, and below the sound of his soft snoring could be heard the annoyed reprimands of a certain sad girl. When she had finished, she had slipped him some food and a metal pike, serving as his makeshift lock pick. With a kiss, she told him to meet her outside town again.

***

He didn't have the right to die. Not by her hand. Finally having escaped the pursuit of the guards of his hometown, he rested. Struggling to wrap the wound on his side, he sat down, satisfied with his makeshift bandaging.

***

He did intend to meet her, but not without taking a detour. If he were to be labeled a criminal, he would be damned if he would not take full advantage of that. Though picking the lock to the jeweler the second time was substantially more difficult, he did so in half the time, swiping a ring before running back to their meeting spot.

Four hours before sunrise, she had finally approached. She came holding a rapier and a bag of food. Tears welling up, she gave the food and the blade to him, hugging him close. He laid the blade on the ground and pulled out the ring from his pocket. Avoiding her gaze, he proposed. Her cheeks flushed a bright red, immediately accepting.

The celebration was short lived as guards had caught wind of both her deviance and his escape. They both ran but she was nowhere near as fast as the trained thief was. Even with a three pound rapier on his belt, he outpaced the girl behind him, and it was not until he had heard her screech that he had realized the fact. Looking back, he saw the guards carrying her off back to town. He weighed his options. If he turned back now, he would be put to death.

He kept running, and he swore to himself that he would come back when he was better trained and competent.

***

The next three past, and though he had not seen her, he still loved her. He had trained with his rapier, developed contacts in a multitude of places, and worked as an escort for women (or men) between his high profile pilfering and low profile assassinations.

He had eventually returned to his hometown under an assassination request. Rumor had it that a lord had a particularly bad habit of kidnapping and killing those of the slums. None dared try to kill the lord, as anyone suspected of plotting an assassination attempt was sentenced to death by immolation.

Which is where he came in. He had a few contacts in town, none of which stupid enough to die at the hands of some madman. With the collective information he was given, he had a time and a place set for an assassination. A festival occurred every spring, and in it, a parade. One in which the Lord partook in. The parade ended at the town square, where the lord would give a speech.

The fatal mistake of not having payed the guards enough was that it was far easier to pay them off, and pay them off he did. With the amount of money he would earn with the job, he would have a hefty profit left over. The only issue with the plan was that he had been told that the lord was a woman. He generally tried to avoid killing women, but the pay was too good.

The plan was simple. He had an engagement route and an escape route. It would be easy enough to kill the lord, though the attack would draw the highest amount of attention possible. Even still, with absolute confidence in his abilities, he waited on a rooftop for the parade to end. It was then when the plan got slightly more complicated. The woman speaking looked to be about his age, with vibrant green eyes and long brown hair. His chest tightened up. If the rumors were true, which he had every reason to believe that they were, then this was his target. As much as he wanted otherwise, he prepared to eliminate his mark.

***

Silently, he slipped into the crowd. He heard muffled complaints from those he had gently pushed out of his way. He began to break into a fast walk, and then into a run. When they could clearly see each other's face, she greeted him with a relieved smile.

He greeted her with a blade. He impaled her through the stomach with the rapier that she had given him. No one in the crowd could hear their words, nor did they expect her to give him a ring. However, in the unoccupied hand, she pulled out a dagger, and stabbed him in the side. He stumbled back, twisting the rapier as he yanked it out. Guards were beginning to flood into the square, but he was already off, desperately following his escape plan.

***

A diversion. He laughed. The ring had been a diversion for the dagger. The ring, clenched tightly in his hand, had almost killed him. An unfortunate allegory for his situation, if nothing else. He decided that it would be safe to sleep for a few hours, but all throughout his dreams, the same conversation repeated itself.

"Funny, I thought you came back to marry me. But I suppose that in the end, I got to see you again." Her pained expression filled his heart with regret. She began to remove her ring, and she tried to place it in his free hand. "I suppose you need this back then, huh?" She quietly joked.

"I would've, had I caught wind of your old man's death." He grabbed her hand, and the ring slipped into his palm. "I never stopped loving you. I just can't forgive what you have done.”

“Perhaps. But I waited for you. Even when I was betrothed, I killed him for you. After my mother’s death, I killed my father in his grief.” She smiled. “You drove me mad, you dastard.” The noble in front of him began to sob. “The blood that I spilled to get you to return… The streets ran red, my love. All of which, for a brief moment with you.”

“In the next live, I swear that I’ll return sooner.” He caressed her cheek, smiling softly.

She nodded to him. "Then I hope you would follow after me quickly, my beloved." With her free hand, she pulled a dagger. With his other hand occupied, she stabbed it into his side. "I love..." She didn’t get to finish.

"And I, you." The blade was painful. Gods, was it painful. He stumbled back, and pulled the rapier with him, leaving his lover a dying heap on the ground. Though he had not the time to mourn. He then stumbled off, slowly breaking into a fast walk, then a run, right back into the same assassination, the same conversation, and same ending over and over again.