An Assassin's Dilemma

Beneath the faint glow of a fogged moon, Kaelan slithered through the shadows. The warmth past the window attracted him like a moth to a flame. His target laid far too defenseless, head resting on top of a pile of clothes. The melting candle by her side flickered, making her wavy honey hair seem alive.

He almost laughed at the irony. Hope she’s enjoying her last dream.

The time to strike had finally arrived.

For the past few nights, Kaelan had waited for the right moment. Most times he’d finish the job before the next dawn, but the girl was surprisingly hard to catch. During the day, she’d hardly sit still and remained far too visible. And under the cover of darkness, she’d stay up late doing busywork until no shadow remained for Kaelan to move through.

How annoying…  He thought as he ruminated.

But what surprised him most was the target itself.

Kaelan lingered by the window. Cloaked in black, he was almost invisible beyond the candlelight’s reach.

When he was first hired for the hit, he half-expected some dark cult leader, or power hungry sorceress, with the way his employer described this "unsanctioned monster.” He arrived at the target location ready to traverse a gothic, guarded tower, instead he found a chapel whose greatest security was a straw scarecrow out front.

The place was filled with thirteen heartbeats; most not fully developed, one at the tail-end, and the last, far too big to believe it was the target. He almost turned back thinking he’d gotten to the wrong place.

But he wasn’t mistaken. This was the job.

Kaelan nudged the window open without a sound and slipped in; his steps light as a feather.

He had killed men in palaces. He had killed nobles. He had killed monsters that villagers prayed would disappear. But he had never once been asked to kill someone in a chapel full of children.

The nun was no older than himself. Fair skin with amber eyes, he’d gotten plenty glances the days prior while she corralled the rowdy children. Not once did she ever drop her smile. He’d also been witness to some of her power. She seemed proficient in Divine Magic, a rare trait, but one posing such a threat?

Not that it mattered, his job was simply to carry out the act, not question his client’s reasons.

But as he observed her one final time, Kaelan could almost feel a subtle hum in the air around her. Dust motes danced with the candle’s flame; it almost seemed like specs of gold that twirled rhythmically with her gentle breaths.

Still, nothing his sharp blade couldn’t slice through.

Let’s get this over with. He tightened the grip on his dagger and closed the gap between them. The lingering draft almost extinguished the flame.

He brought his blade toward her. It’d be quick. Just a slice on the neck. Blood would gush out, but she’d be out in no time.

Yet, his hand froze. The dagger ceased moving. Only another inch remained between life and death.

He couldn’t explain it. It was frustrating enough having to wait until the third night. The girl just didn’t know when to stop. Even now, under knife point, she still gripped her sewing needle, and hugged a child’s patchy coat.

Kaelan’s eyes shot up.

A presence beyond the window tugged him from hesitation and away from the girl. It was a presence he couldn’t ignore due to familiarity. It was hard not to recognize; it slithered beneath the shadows waiting for a chance to strike, just like him.

With quick, quiet steps he followed it into the courtyard. The cloud cover fogging the moon finally passed, illuminating the darkness with a cold hue. Enough to make out the figure of another cloak-clad man.

A second assassin.

***

Cold air made each breath visible. Kaelan tried his best to control it, such little things could make a difference, and the empty gaze in front of him was the type to notice such things.

They were sharp; the eyes of someone who had taken far too many lives. After enough time, such eyes glazed over and became lifeless. Once in a while, Kaelan had unpleasant dreams where he’d wear such eyes. And at times, his throat knotted at the sight of his own gaze taking such an appearance.

The man pointed a sickle at him. “I was sent as insurance. Looks like the client knew you’d hesitate.” The moon reflected on its sleek, steel edge. “This is my job now. It’s best you stay out of the way.”

Kaelan tightened his grip of both hands. Two daggers this time. “She’s my prey.”

“Then finish it.”

“I’ll kill her when I decide.”

The assassin scoffed. “You’re over complicating it.”

“You wish to test me?”

“No need.” The assassin shook his head. “You’ve long failed. It would’ve been best to eliminate the little distractions first. Get rid of loose ends. It'd also weaken the target’s resolve.”

“What are you—?”

The assassin turned toward a specific location Kaelan was well aware of. The dormitory where the children slept. He calmly walked toward it, resting his sickle on his shoulder. “I’m sure afterward, she’ll beg to be put out of her misery.”

Kaelan’s body moved before his brain could even process why. His blades clashed against the sickle, briefly splashing hot orange sparks between them.

“Seems I was needed after all.” The assassin stood firm. “I’ll take care of you first.”

With a heavy groan, Kaelan pushed him back with a clank from his daggers.

Now, even if he wanted to, there was no time to think. This assassin was a master of his craft. The cloak-clad man flicked his gaze to a side, for a split second, Kaelan’s eyes naturally followed.

Caught in the trap.

Kaelan raised his daggers just in time to parry the strike. If it’d been a full second, his head would’ve been gone.

The blows didn’t let up.

He’s fast!

As expected. But Kaelan kept up, matching each strike in a collision of steel.

Sparks continued to dance under the moonlight. Between sweat and streaks of blood. Near fatal hits and misses.

Their breathing grew laboured, but Kaelan had gotten the upper hand. His last strike in particular. He felt it. It slashed deeply, and blood across his whole blade made that clear.

The assassin groaned. “Not bad… Kaelan.” He turned his gaze, almost seemingly caught off guard. Not a clever trick this time.

A new presence. How long had it been there?

“Kaelan? Who—Wh-What is this?”

The young nun stood by. Kaelan had been far too focused in the battle. There’d been too much noise.

An assassin without concealment is no different than some bandit. Except bandits didn’t have as long a trail of blood behind them seeking vengeance. He should’ve known better, that’s what ended up getting an assassin killed. Those things were known to come back to bite you. Even the enemy in front of him seemed to have understood that.

Tsk. The assassin jumped back holding his bloody arm. “Better finish your prey… Or someone else might just take it.” He drowned into the darkness behind until his presence faded.

Kaelan panted. His lungs burned. 

With pupils dilated, his eyes shot to the girl. Sister Maria. Oh, the countless times he’d heard that name the past few days. Now, she stood frozen. His prey.

Her amber eyes quivered, yet she glanced at the children’s dorm. “Are they safe?”

Kaelan’s eyes widened. He needed to finish this. Now.

In a step, the distance between them vanished. His dagger pressed against her neck. Sweat trickled underneath his clothing, but it just made everything feel colder.

Maria held him in her gaze. Everything around Kaelan felt like it froze over, except for her. A warmth still radiated from her, even while a bead of blood ran down her neck.

He could almost feel the warmth infecting his own body. On his side. It was warm… and wet.

“You’re hurt.” Maria said. There was no hidden meaning behind those words. None that Kaelan could tell of, anyway. She didn’t smile, nor frowned. Just a fact that she seemed unable to ignore.

Coming from the girl that dripped blood onto his stained blade? Kaelan almost scoffed in disbelief.

He staggered back. “Wh-What? Why would you…?”

Her words pierced him deeper than any sickle could’ve ever hoped. It burned like a painful stab wound. One much worse than the one he failed to notice he had.

His grip weakened, dropping the blades with a clang onto the cold, hard surface. Kaelan ran a hand through his side. That’s where the wet warmth was strongest. Raising it to the clear white moon, it was covered in a fresh coat of crimson red.

His knees buckled and he collapsed on the ground. A peaceful silence returned as his vision blurred, like the late nights he witnessed Maria enjoying with a warm smile.

Maria’s figure knelt beside him while his vision darkened.

“Don’t…” Kaelan strained a whisper.

A golden hue fought against growing darkness. He didn’t want to believe. He refused to believe; that the person he’d tried to kill was attempting to heal him.

Still, in the end, the darkness won.