The Mogul Za Fein was a very exclusive and secretive branch of the Mogul Za Del that specialized in assasination. One does not get simple accepted into the Mogul Za Fein, they are born to it. They are raised to it from infancy, trained and honed to be lethal, efficient and powerful. Its location, just like the Mogul Za Del is a secret, and contacting and hiring their services is know by few, affordable by even fewer. A Contract, once accepted is not voidable, and no one knows how the deed will be performed. training includes spy work, martial arts, languages, matery of disguise and any and all other possible disciplines that might be useful for the assasin. They are experts and both muggle and wizarding assasination techniques, poisons, curses, spells and many methods of torture. Training begins at 2 and end at the same time a wizard would be considered an adult. Training was strick and not all trainees made it to a position of feild assasin. The wash outs, ended up doing other work for the Mogul Za Fein, but it was know, to all that they had not been able to bear the strick assasin training, the only way to reach the highest levels of the organization.
On the year of the assasination attempt to the minister, one of those wash outs, broke down and began to use the training he had never been allowed to use. Coming from one of their own and one it was unexpected and its results devastating. due to its secretive Cell like setting, Many were killed, injured before the problem was uncovered and stopped. The battle between the assasins and the rogue reject culminated the day he attacked the trainees...
the rogue watched as the operatives walked into the meeting room. He was one of the few that knew most of them... because he guarded the doors to the meeting room. The other who knew was the leader, the one that all of them looked up to, respected. He was the greatest of them all, the one who defined the guidelines, chose who got to be one of them, and who didnt. He also chose who got to stay within the fold, and who would be oblivious and sent back into the world with a fake memory. The Rogue guessed he should consider himself lucky,He was told so frequently. He had a postion of honour, considering his failure, he was still part of it, but he still thought the Leader made a mistake. He had deemed the Rogue not fit for the secretive and dangerous world of assasins, just because he had had a tiny moment's hesitation when the final test had come. A fraction of a second, that was all that had stood between his dream, something he had worked for for as long as he could remember, and life as a piece of furniture.
All the others, the successes, the ones who did not hesitate. They had gone from companions, tutors, mentors to people he opened doors to, to people he contacted but never recieved a thank you. With every fiber of his soul The Rogue hated them, and yet he could not hope to live anywhere else, should he chose to leave, he could but as someone else. He would not be him, he would be someone else, who had suddenly come to exit in his place. So he put up with it, did his work, and continued to never get noticed. For years it was like that, for years... Till he couldnt take it anymore. He snapped, they would see, they would learn they would know that they made a mistake, just before they died.
The Rogue worked carefully, slowly moving through the cells. leaving no signs, just death and destruction. The Leader tried to find out, tried to catch the Rogue, to no avail. Entire cells continued to get destroyed, causing worry and wrath in the Leader and his Advisors. But the Rogue knew they were getting close, he had known they would eventually, but his work was nearing its end. All that remained was the most powerful cell, and the trainees. But the Rogue had grown confident and knew he could get them. They would be childs play, literally, and it was. Though the midgets put up a fight, they were no match for a fully trained assasin, even one who had washed out. She ruthlessly killed them even thouse the Mentors tried to send away. The last one was a girl close to the age of testing. He knew from talk she was a prodigy, not one doubted she would be one of the best, if she ever lost the soft touch she had for small creatures. She was an exception -something that made the rogue even angrier, for she had not been born into it, but taken there after being rescued from another madman. A child that had been tested on and had in her more power than was normal. It was wrong, why would the rogue be denied when someone who did not deserve it was being hailed as a prodigy? As he pointed his wand, ready to kill her, a group of assasins, his hunters burst through the door, the girl reacted, casting a painful spell on him. The Rogue was furious, how dare she? he was her better, even if he was only a washout!
As he pointed the wand, to cast an arcane killing spell at the girl, at the same time that more than one of the hunters sent a transportation spell in the direction of the girl. She was hit, and the result was devastating. No death as the Rogue had hoped, not the transportation to the safehouse, as the hunters had hoped, she vanished, to the despair of the assasins, their last living trainee, who knew where to, of if she even was alive.
The result was the total fragmentation and erasure of her mind. A blank slate was left in its place, Adhara Memoria Perditio as she was called by the rest of the Wizarding world, was considered lost, Those who had survived the Rogue mourned her loss, along with all the others, and though some considered if she had survived, they had more pressing matters, such as the fact that a washout had been able to do so much damage, there were changes to be made, things to be corrected, and the whole guild to be re-built.
The girl woke up, getting startled by the sound of chirping birds. She looked around confused, blinking at the bright sunlight. Raising her head she looked around to see a small forest clearing, flowers and trees surrounding her. She tried to move, wincing at the pain in her shoulder wondering how long she had been in that position to feel so much pain. She blinked again and rubbed her eyes, noticing red welts on both her wrists... the other source of pain were her ankles where identical welts were. She sat up and noticed she wore only a dirty long shift that covered her whole body.
Where...she had no idea how to formulate words, but the thoughts came free and unbidden. Where was she? a forest, that much she knew, but apart from the fact that she knew the brown and green things were trees and the colorful things were flowers, she had no idea of anything else, who she was, where she was, or why she was there...Her wrists and ankles hurt, she felt sore from the awkward position she probably had stayed in for a long time. After blinking for a while some instinct told her to get up, and she slowly, as a baby first finding the use of its limbs, stood up, and started stumbling around. A scratchy feeling on her throat told her she needed something, but unsure of what to do she just blinked around, confused and scared. She heard a gurgling sound and her instincts told her to follow it. The stream was clear and sparkling and suddenly the girl knew what to do. She drunk greedily, water dripping down her chin and soaking the shift she wore.
Instict was all she had and for days it was all that guided the girl, taking her from the clearing to follow the stream, finding food when hungry, drinking when thirsty,knowing that she needed to be high above ground to be safe when darkness came. She found she had a catlike grace when time came for her to climb the tree and be safe while resting. Eventually she started to feel the need for more. More what she wasn't sure, but there was a yearning for something. Things about her made her curious, such as the reflexes she had, or the marks on her wrists and ankles.
Time passed, the girl walked and walked, unable to fill the strange need for something she couldnt define, not sure of what to do other than just walk. Maybe the world was just this? She stepped through a growth of bushes and suddenly she was no longer alone. Children saw her and ran, she raised her hand, attempting to ask for help, but they were gone already... she tried to follow, and walked into a village.
People ran, someone spoke in a strange language, someone threw a rock. Instinct once again took over, and she raised her hand to protect herself. She screamed and the rock hit something as if a wall protected her. The few people who had not run fled.
The girl continued to wander, this time through the city... aimless, unsure, missing the soft grass under her feet, the street rocks hurt her bare feet. She could feel tears on her eyes, she wanted to talk, but words would not come. Suddenly people dressed in dark cloaks appeared, and she was hit by a number of flashing lights. She woke up in a cold room or people talked at her, though she did not understand or reply. Eventually she managed to form sounds. They called her Adhara, she assumed it was her name. How she knew what a name was went unexplained, she had no reason or rhyme for what she knew or didnt know. Hit again by the flashing lights she sunk into darkness again.
When she woke up she was laying in a soft white bed, a kind looking man who spoke to her in words she understood. She then was told she was in a place called 'England' and it had been decided by the words she had spoken that she was from there. They said they would help her, told her she was a witch - Adhara had no idea what that was - and that she had to learn how to use her 'Magik'. Though she had no idea of any of what people were saying was, they explained things, she finally had something other than the empty wandering through the woods. She was told she had been victim of the same 'Magik' she would need to learn how to control. There were signs of it on her, of what had been done to her, but there was so much of it, that it would take time to find out what had been done, why or how to help her.
For a long time she stayed there, being prodded, poked and chanted over every day while the 'Healers' tried to figure out what was wrong with her. Time passed and though she learned things that by the healer's reaction should be easy, natural, like using utensils to eat, or how to dress. She knew things, like reading, and how to speak, she was incredibly nimble and agile, but what she knew was confusing, uncertain, sketchy. After months and months the healers seemed to give up. Or at least seemed to decide that there was not much that could be done yet. She was told the best solution would be school, she needed to learn how to use her 'magik' and would soon be sent to Hogwarts. An exception had been made, they would take her even though they didn't know if she was meant to go there... she was not sick enough to stay at St Mungos, and they couldnt send an untrained witch to the 'muggle' world ot an orphanage. They told her she was lucky, that it was the best place they could possibly send her, that it was a good opportunity.
It was incredibly frustrating, though some what comforting. She was being given a direction, an identity, clothes and instruction, but not once anyone asked her what she wanted to do, how she felt, what she needed. Not that she would know how to say what it was she needed, but she thought they should at least ask her right? Instead she was just taken from place to place, told what to do, wear, where to go. Feeling lost and unsure, she continued to do what people told her to. So far it had not hurt her, even if she didn't like the clothes she had been given, she couldn't find any strength to really object.
Time passed and when time came for her to go to school Adhara had not found anything. the Healers were still baffled, She was still just as much a blank slate as the day she had woken up in the clearing. maybe this Magik School place would help, either way it was a least a place where she would find people her own age. As Adhara prepared to take the 'train' she covered her scars, dressed in the clothes they told her and prepared to try and prepared to if not find out about her past, then at least forge a new future.
In her mind, this Magik thing was bad, it had done this to her right? but the uncertainty that was her mind made her follow and obey, though it still irked her a lot that she had not once been consulted. But it was a place to go, maybe something there would jog her memory. Scared, lost, confused Adhara boarded the train, hoping that this new place was at least better than St. Mungo's.
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