"What does this have to do with anything?"

"Training."

"Training... for what?"

"Anything. Everything. Nothing."

"That made absolutely no sense. Whatsoever. At all."

"You mock me."

"Yes, because it's so easy! You are... mock-able."

"... Begin."

Snap. His arm broke. He healed and turned as she gestured to the air, jumped over him and flipped, gesturing towards him now. He jerked back, slamming into the stone wall of the basement, smiling. His student was a success. Now for the hard part. He raised his hands and created a field of energy. A wave flowed forward, causing the student to kneel under the impact. She fought to raise her hands again, and as she did, the teacher braced himself for the next part of their routine, which was-

Snap. Snap. His arms flew to his sides, pinned down by magic, his legs went rigid and he toppled to the floor as his legs started twisting around each other as if they were boneless, save for the hollow popping sounds of breaking bones and tearing flesh, as jagged bone tore through muscle and skin, spattering crimson blood over the walls. It shone as it dripped down onto the form of the girl's teacher. He looked up weakly as she stepped over him, hands splayed. Instantly his ribcage splintered and punctured his lungs and heart, stopping them. He let out a shuddering gasp and did not move again.

The student, having finished her training, walked to the sink installed in the far corner of the room and cleaned it of the droplets of red that had managed to make it this far, then washed her bloody hands. At the sound of her mentor's body moving behind her, she turned and looked him in the face.

"Took your time. That was what, thirty seconds? You're getting slow, old man." He did not respond, but instead rolled over onto his back and sat up, his skin and body healing swiftly.

"When you've gone through this as many times as I have, then we'll talk."

"I don't plan on adding that to my bucket list anytime soon. So anyway, how's that?"

"Very good."

"I know, right? So anyway, how far along am I? When will I be able to go out and actually do my job?"

"I think..."

"Yeees?"

"I think... you're ready."

His student whooped with delight, punching the air as she did a little dance in a circle right there. He smiled despite himself. She was clearly excited to finally go out and carry on what he had started, but maybe too excited. She was only fifteen, after all, and this job was a dangerous one. She could get killed, or worse, imprisoned by the Sanctuary and forced to tell them of their family's secrets. She'd only been out once, when she was very young, and that was accidental. But now was the time to see what she remembered of his teachings.

She hugged him swiftly and bolted out of the room, bouncing up the stairs as if she was weightless, and charging to her room to get changed out of her training clothes. In no time at all, she was poking her head through the door and saying, "I'm going now, who's to be first?"

He shook his head and chuckled grimly. Next he pulled a picture from the box under the sink and showed it to her. She snatched it, studying, memorizing the face, stuffing it into the pocket of her boot-legged jeans, hugging him again and darting off, throwing open the door to the deserted street, sunlight pouring in. She blinked her eyes like a newborn kitten, adjusting, then walked off happily.

He sighed at her eagerness. She had no idea of the horrors of the outside world, but she would soon adjust, making her own way. No matter what it meant. He looked after her disappearing form.

So young, for an assassin.