Langley: A Black Diamond Origin Story

By Poppy Kuroki

Langley is a valued assassin in the Black Diamond’s guild of mercenaries and spies. But what of his life before?

Sixteen-year-old Langellus is the son of the famous obilin dance master and travelling performer, Zosar von Madan. His days involve endless training in this intricate form of masked dance, his nights watching carnivalia performances both for the affluent and the poor.

When an assassin invades the camp and attacks the obilin master, Langellus vows to find out who tried to kill his father, and why. What does the Goddess of Death have in store for Langellus? Will he find Zosar von Madan’s would-be killer before it’s too late?

Discover Langley’s thrilling origin story, set eight years before Oath, and his journey from masked performer to deadly assassin.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Poppy Kuroki
• Release date: Mar 3, 2022
• ISBN: 9781838231323

Poppy Kuroki

Poppy Kuroki is a professional ghostwriter and editor. She loves books, Dungeons & Dragons, and playing video games. She currently lives in Enoshima, Japan with her husband and dreams of owning a dog.

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Langley

A Black Diamond Origin Story

Copyright 2021 P. Kuroki

Published by P. Kuroki at Smashwords

Smashwords Edition License Notes

This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your enjoyment only, then please return to Smashwords.com or your favorite retailer and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

Langley: A Black Diamond Origin Story

Copyright 2021 by Poppy Kuroki

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission from the author except in the case of brief quotations used in critical articles or reviews.

This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, organisations, places, events, and incidents either are a product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

https://poppykuroki.com

Book cover design by Ana Ristovska

ISBN: 9 7 8 1 8 3 8 2 3 1 3 1 6

Table of Contents

~ Chapter 1 ~

~ Chapter 2 ~

~ Chapter 3 ~

~ Chapter 4 ~

~ Chapter 5 ~

~ Chapter 6 ~

~ Chapter 7 ~

~ Chapter 8 ~

About the Author

~ Chapter 1 ~

Frankincense and cedarwood stung Langellus’s nostrils.

He balanced on one foot, his pose perfect, the fan in his hand spread and raised in an arc over his head before halting, pointing towards the corner of the wall. The Master of Deception knelt before him, dark eyes narrowed as he watched his son.

Again, he commanded, his voice a deep rumble, a tremor in an ocean. Langellus stood back on both feet with the precise grace he’d been taught, swallowing the nerves that crept up his throat. The six-year-old boy wore a paper-thin robe the colour of parchment. He longed to wear his halesi, his traditional jacket, which was dark green and buttoned at the side with intricate patterns of woven gold. His mother had sent it for his last birthday, but he was only allowed to wear it once a week so it wouldn’t get rumpled.

Ebony-skinned like his father, Langellus von Madan had firm muscles from training in obilin for his whole life. His father, Zosar von Madan, was one of the world’s greatest obilin performers. Obilin was a dance that told stories, and though it was said it took at least twelve years of training to master the basics, Langellus had practiced for as long as he could remember. Maybe when he was twelve, he’d be ready to perform alongside his father, whom his fans fondly nicknamed the Master of Deception. Obilin required not merely skill and grace but the ability to only be seen when the dancer so desired, to disguise oneself beyond the point of recognition, and to captivate and charm an audience.

Langellus repeated the move, swifter this time, ending with a determined frown on his young face.

Zosar von Madan gave a slow nod. Better. You’ve practiced all day, boy. Hurry along and see if Beatrice has cooked anything up for you.

Langellus clasped his palms together, lowering his gaze in respect. He didn’t run from the room—many children his age would—but placed the fan on the shelf, using both hands, lowering it into its holder. After checking it was symmetrical, Langellus slipped on the straw slippers waiting outside. Only then did he reach to wipe the beads of perspiration on his forehead.

The grass tickled his feet as he left the caravan behind, a cool breeze caressing