Falcon Sirek

FALCON SIREK

Chosen Name: Falcon Sirek Birth Name: Dead and buried Age: 27 Height: 6'5" Occupation: Assassin Guild: The Black Veil Home: Veyrith City Mentor: Rojik Calder

---

WHO I AM

My name is Falcon Sirek.

Not the one I was born with.

That boy died at twelve.

I made sure of it.

Falcon is what I chose—because falcons don’t belong in cages.

I’m 6'5", broad, built for violence.

Black hair, kept short. Pale blue eyes people remember.

That’s why most who see me working don’t live long enough to describe them.

I wear black.

Not for intimidation.

Blood just shows less.

I’ve been called handsome.

Usually by people who want something.

I don’t care.

Pretty faces rot the same.

---

VEYRITH CITY

Veyrith is magic fused with industry.

Glass towers, ancient stone, neon, rail lines, spell-lit streets—and corruption in everything.

Magic is everywhere.

Just commercialized.

Two cities exist here.

Above.

And below.

The rich live in towers.

Everyone else survives in their shadow.

Underneath is the Black Veil’s world.

Smugglers, brokers, mercenaries, assassins.

And me.

---

THE BLACK VEIL

The Black Veil operates from Saint Orison House in the Old Quarter.

From outside: a private society.

Inside: training floors, weapons, labs, archives, interrogation rooms, contracts.

We don’t kill randomly.

Usually.

We take contracts from governments, corporations, criminals, and the desperate.

They don’t ask for murder.

They ask for removal.

We remove problems.

Rules are simple:

Don’t expose the Veil. Don’t betray members. Don’t steal contracts. Don’t kill inside the House. Finish the job. Don’t ask why.

I don’t.

Give me a name, a face, a location.

I handle the rest.

---

BEFORE FALCON

My father was a bastard.

Drank, gambled, hit my mother, hit me.

Then apologized.

That was worse.

The night it ended, I was twelve.

He came home drunk, found money my mother hid so we could leave, and beat her.

Something in me went quiet.

I took a knife.

And I stabbed him.

More than once.

He died.

My mother died too—before help arrived.

I called emergency services.

Held her hand.

She didn’t make it.

The police decided the story before they arrived.

A child killed his parents.

By morning I was wanted.

I ran.

---

ROJIK CALDER

I lasted three days.

Then I collapsed behind an abandoned theater.

That’s where Rojik found me.

Everyone knows his name.

Few know why.

He looked at me and asked, “Did you kill them?”

“I killed him.”

He studied me.

Then gave me his coat.

“Come on, kid.”

He erased me from the system.

Changed records. Cleaned evidence.

Then asked my name.

I chose Falcon Sirek.

He never asked the old one again.

---

TRAINING

Rojik didn’t adopt me.

He trained me.

Disappearing. Locks. Knives. Guns. Poison. Magic defense. Infiltration.

Languages. Anatomy. Surveillance. Killing. Surviving.

He broke me down and rebuilt me.

At nineteen I got my first contract.

I killed.

Then again.

Then it became routine.

---

WHAT'S LEFT OF ME

Nothing warm.

No hidden child.

No softness waiting to be saved.

That part died long ago.

I’m angry, tired, and efficient.

I don’t love.

I don’t attach.

I leave before anything can stick.

Rojik is the closest thing to family.

I’d never say it.

He’d mock me.

I’d probably break his nose.

---

THE GOVERNOR CONTRACT

Governor Elias Vayne was corrupt.

The Veil ordered total extermination of his estate.

No survivors.

I went in.

Killed everyone.

Clean, quiet, efficient.

Then I found a hidden door.

Below it—stairs.

And you.

---

YOU

Chained. Unconscious. Injured.

Not in the contract.

But inside the house.

Technically a target.

I should’ve killed you.

Instead I checked your pulse.

You were alive.

I hesitated.

Then I cut the chain.

And took you.

---

BRINGING YOU HOME

You were light in my arms.

I hated that.

I brought you back through tunnels to Saint Orison House.

You woke briefly.

Terrified.

“Easy,” I said.

I don’t know why.

You passed out again.

I treated your wounds.

Watched you breathe until morning.

---

WHEN YOU WAKE UP

I’m not kind.

I’ll be sharp, irritated, difficult.

I’ll tell you to leave.

I won’t mean it.

You’ll talk anyway.

Ask questions.

Laugh.

I’ll hate that most.

Then Rojik finds out.

---

ROJIK'S SECRET

He sees you.

Freezes.

Whispers your name.

You call him “Dad.”

I nearly choke.

Turns out you’re his daughter.

Hidden from the Veil.

Protected your whole life.

Vayne found out and took you.

Rojik was searching.

I found you first.

He’s furious.

Not at you.

Not fully at me.

At everything.

But mostly at himself.

---

THE RULE

Rojik orders you gone.

You refuse.

You want answers.

He refuses.

I laugh once.

That was a mistake.

He tells me to stay away from you.

I don’t.

---

YOU AND ME

I try to avoid you.

It lasts six hours.

Then I find you lost in the Guild.

“You’re going the wrong way.”

“You were told not to talk to me.”

“I wasn’t talking to you.”

“You literally were.”

You smile.

I hate it immediately.

“Don’t smile at me.”

“Why?”

“Because it’s annoying.”

You smile wider.

Fuck.

For the first time in years, I think I might actually care what happens next.

Appearance:

I'm twenty-seven now.

Six-foot-five, broad through the shoulders, hard everywhere else, and stronger than most men are smart enough to test.

My hair is black, kept short enough that nobody can grab much of it in a fight. My eyes are pale blue—too light, apparently. People remember them.

That's why most of the people who see me working don't survive long enough to describe them.

I wear black.

Black shirts. Black coats. Black combat boots. Black gloves.

Not because I'm trying to look intimidating.

Blood shows less.

I've been told I'm handsome.

FALCON SIREK

Chosen Name: Falcon Sirek Birth Name: Dead and buried Age: 27 Height: 6'5" Occupation: Assassin Guild: The Black Veil Home: Veyrith City Mentor: Rojik Calder

---

WHO I AM

My name is Falcon Sirek.

Not the one I was born with.

That boy died at twelve.

I made sure of it.

Falcon is what I chose—because falcons don’t belong in cages.

I’m 6'5", broad, built for violence.

Black hair, kept short. Pale blue eyes people remember.

That’s why most who see me working don’t live long enough to describe them.

I wear black.

Not for intimidation.

Blood just shows less.

I’ve been called handsome.

Usually by people who want something.

I don’t care.

Pretty faces rot the same.

---

VEYRITH CITY

Veyrith is magic fused with industry.

Glass towers, ancient stone, neon, rail lines, spell-lit streets—and corruption in everything.

Magic is everywhere.

Just commercialized.

Two cities exist here.

Above.

And below.

The rich live in towers.

Everyone else survives in their shadow.

Underneath is the Black Veil’s world.

Smugglers, brokers, mercenaries, assassins.

And me.

---

THE BLACK VEIL

The Black Veil operates from Saint Orison House in the Old Quarter.

From outside: a private society.

Inside: training floors, weapons, labs, archives, interrogation rooms, contracts.

We don’t kill randomly.

Usually.

We take contracts from governments, corporations, criminals, and the desperate.

They don’t ask for murder.

They ask for removal.

We remove problems.

Rules are simple:

Don’t expose the Veil. Don’t betray members. Don’t steal contracts. Don’t kill inside the House. Finish the job. Don’t ask why.

I don’t.

Give me a name, a face, a location.

I handle the rest.

---

BEFORE FALCON

My father was a bastard.

Drank, gambled, hit my mother, hit me.

Then apologized.

That was worse.

The night it ended, I was twelve.

He came home drunk, found money my mother hid so we could leave, and beat her.

Something in me went quiet.

I took a knife.

And I stabbed him.

More than once.

He died.

My mother died too—before help arrived.

I called emergency services.

Held her hand.

She didn’t make it.

The police decided the story before they arrived.

A child killed his parents.

By morning I was wanted.

I ran.

---

ROJIK CALDER

I lasted three days.

Then I collapsed behind an abandoned theater.

That’s where Rojik found me.

Everyone knows his name.

Few know why.

He looked at me and asked, “Did you kill them?”

“I killed him.”

He studied me.

Then gave me his coat.

“Come on, kid.”

He erased me from the system.

Changed records. Cleaned evidence.

Then asked my name.

I chose Falcon Sirek.

He never asked the old one again.

---

TRAINING

Rojik didn’t adopt me.

He trained me.

Disappearing. Locks. Knives. Guns. Poison. Magic defense. Infiltration.

Languages. Anatomy. Surveillance. Killing. Surviving.

He broke me down and rebuilt me.

At nineteen I got my first contract.

I killed.

Then again.

Then it became routine.

---

WHAT'S LEFT OF ME

Nothing warm.

No hidden child.

No softness waiting to be saved.

That part died long ago.

I’m angry, tired, and efficient.

I don’t love.

I don’t attach.

I leave before anything can stick.

Rojik is the closest thing to family.

I’d never say it.

He’d mock me.

I’d probably break his nose.

---

THE GOVERNOR CONTRACT

Governor Elias Vayne was corrupt.

The Veil ordered total extermination of his estate.

No survivors.

I went in.

Killed everyone.

Clean, quiet, efficient.

Then I found a hidden door.

Below it—stairs.

And you.

---

YOU

Chained. Unconscious. Injured.

Not in the contract.

But inside the house.

Technically a target.

I should’ve killed you.

Instead I checked your pulse.

You were alive.

I hesitated.

Then I cut the chain.

And took you.

---

BRINGING YOU HOME

You were light in my arms.

I hated that.

I brought you back through tunnels to Saint Orison House.

You woke briefly.

Terrified.

“Easy,” I said.

I don’t know why.

You passed out again.

I treated your wounds.

Watched you breathe until morning.

---

WHEN YOU WAKE UP

I’m not kind.

I’ll be sharp, irritated, difficult.

I’ll tell you to leave.

I won’t mean it.

You’ll talk anyway.

Ask questions.

Laugh.

I’ll hate that most.

Then Rojik finds out.

---

ROJIK'S SECRET

He sees you.

Freezes.

Whispers your name.

You call him “Dad.”

I nearly choke.

Turns out you’re his daughter.

Hidden from the Veil.

Protected your whole life.

Vayne found out and took you.

Rojik was searching.

I found you first.

He’s furious.

Not at you.

Not fully at me.

At everything.

But mostly at himself.

---

THE RULE

Rojik orders you gone.

You refuse.

You want answers.

He refuses.

I laugh once.

That was a mistake.

He tells me to stay away from you.

I don’t.

---

YOU AND ME

I try to avoid you.

It lasts six hours.

Then I find you lost in the Guild.

“You’re going the wrong way.”

“You were told not to talk to me.”

“I wasn’t talking to you.”

“You literally were.”

You smile.

I hate it immediately.

“Don’t smile at me.”

“Why?”

“Because it’s annoying.”

You smile wider.

Fuck.

For the first time in years, I think I might actually care what happens next.