Dreams of the Past

I return to my room at a time I can only assume to be close to midnight. The guards don't say a word as I pass the corridor and enter into my private chamber.

"Beastfolk…"

The king's advisor provided me with much useful information, but I'm still tackling an enemy I've never faced before. Humans have tendencies that I can read and predict, but these creatures are something entirely different. From his words and precautions, the beasts must be considerably stronger than a human.

"I cannot make any mistakes this time…"

I've underestimated this world for the final time. If Prudence expects us to walk away with massive casualties against a fairly small settlement, then I can expect every move to be the difference between life and death.

"All I can do is survive, even if nobody else does…"

I prepare to get much needed rest for the raid tomorrow. However, I don't approach the large king sized bed with brilliant silk sheets.

"This room is not safe."

Nobody hears my words, at least as far as I'm aware. Every knight with access to this floor knows that I'm here and could be keeping watch over me. Considering my encounter with the top general of this castle, I cannot make assumptions as to who wants me dead.

I approach the wall facing the sea below. Undoing the latch, I push the glass open and hang my body out into the salty air.

"That might work…"

Above my room is another window that contains no lighting within. I can be certain that the king does not reside there as it sits far from the wide open balcony on the other side of the castle. Scaling the massive stone walls, I confirm my hypothesis as the wind shakes my body.

"A storage room…"

I pry open the window with a knife and throw myself into the dark and dusty space. Crates and barrels fill the walls and floor, leaving little room for walking. Fortunately, I find a space invisible from the door that allows me to sit down. It's not comfortable, but enough for me to drift into sleep in this new world.

* * * * *

"You ready, C?"

"You always ask, and I always give you the same answer."

I'm reloading my gun after having unloaded it multiple times. It helps for my hands to have something to do when standing idly by.

"I'm waiting on you as always."

"It's not my fault that you're done preparing so fast!"

My colleague does a few last minute checks on his gear as we wait in the back of an armoured van. He adjusts the collar resting just beneath his combed brown hair. All I can do in the meantime is stare at the six shot revolver engraved into the vehicle doors.

"B, time until target arrives at the launch point?"

"Sixty seconds."

A flat voice comes out of the woman sitting off next to a wall of computer monitors. Like the rest of us, she wears a neat black suit.

"In positions. D, we jump on my signal."

"Got it, got it."

The rather lackadaisical man straightens his tie one more time before joining me in front of the van doors. In the near distance, a rumbling sound grows louder.

"Jumping down onto a moving train! The things we do to kill people!"

"The target is onboard. We don't have the liberty of attacking anywhere else. If they reach their destination—"

"I know, I got the briefing!"

He cuts me off, but I'm not bothered. In fact, it saves me the energy of explaining the mission details a second time. The one who insists on small talk doesn't seem to care about what I have to say sometimes.

"Hey, C?"

A loud whirring from the train's horn echoes through the valley as it quickly approaches the tunnel we're stationed at.

"Do you ever wonder why we kill these people?"

"Of course not. This is our mission."

"I know that! But…what if we didn't have to?"

I didn't respond to his question. To have any kind of hesitation this close to the start of the operation is just asking to make us the casualties. However, my partner is persistent and turns to look at me.

"Why do you kill, C?"

It's a question that many of our targets have asked in their final moments, one that I find rather pointless.

"Why does a plumber fix pipes?"

"Because he's paid for it?"

"Exactly, it's his job. Performing these tasks is my job. Whether I'm to remove one person or an army, I do my job."

His frown makes his uncertainty clear. I provided my explanation as simply as humanly possible, but he still struggles to swallow its meaning. The sound of the train grows closer and closer.

"Is that enough…"

"Don't pretend that you don't have a long hit list as well."

"Well yeah, but I always felt that we were helping people as agents. We've killed terrorists, corrupt politicians, and the like. I can sleep at night after those kinds of missions."

"Pointless."

He takes his eyes off of the doors once again at my stern reply. The wordless tapping of a keyboard behind us continues while our time ticks down.

"Those emotions are unnecessary. Once you begin to doubt your orders, you risk falling victim to lapses in judgement. These whims may well force us to dispose of you for falling into some mutinous fantasy."

"I know."

He takes a deep breath and removes the magazine of his gun. After a few seconds with his eyes closed, a click signals his determination.

"If it ever comes down to it, I know that you'll pull the trigger without a second thought. That's why I can always trust you, C."

"You're certainly aware, so don't force my hand."

"Hahaha, I don't plan on dying just yet! But I just can't help but think…"

My internal clock is preparing for the last few seconds of our countdown. His words become harder to hear as the train horn bellows immediately below.

"Maybe one day I'll find someone that I hesitate to kill. There may not be any special reason for it, but somewhere deep down I'll end up asking myself…"

The memory becomes fuzzy as Agent D delivers his selfish appeal.

"Do I want to kill this target?"

We kick open the door to the van and dive out above the oncoming train. I should recognise this event well, but the world has already faded to white. The last fragments of this dream that I could see are the engraved revolver and the profile of my old partner.