She loved to run. The feeling of the wind brushing against her as she sped up or the ground under her feet that seemed to move her forward were one of the few physical things that made her love to run. She loved how loudly her heart beat in her chest and how powerful she felt the more she ran. The most wonderful feeling, though, was that of freedom.

She felt as if she could go anywhere she desired, venture into the lands unknown and answer the call of adventure. She wouldn’t have to worry about anything and life would flow smoothly and without hindrance. She could be free of any burden and do anything she wished. That all sounded astounding.

“Hey, kid! You stop right there!” A familiar voice called Farre back to the earth. Suddenly she remembered where she was. The place she lived in and all the burdens that she wished to forget.

She stopped in the middle of the road running through the middle of the city. It was a wide road bricked beautifully and at nighttime, like right now, there was not a soul in sight. The whole wide road belonged to her. At least, that was what she thought when she ran.

In reality, the streets of Unasza were never empty, even when you didn’t see anyone in the scarcely lit streets, there was always someone lurking in the shadows. Waiting for a clueless passer-by just to shiv them right in the ribs and take all of their coins. Or maybe to catch someone unawares and chuck them onto a ship so they could be sold into slavery. Or any other act that you could imagine. People didn’t call this city “the gutter” for no reason.

It was a dangerous place to be out at night. Farre knew that, but in the pit of despair she called this city, even the most despicable people had rules. For example, when you were a member of a gang you gained a little bit of protection. True, that the work was more often than not vile and left a person with a sense of emptiness inside, but beggars can’t be choosers.

And Farre has always been a beggar. Right until the moment she got her scars.

“What do you want, Knee?” Farre turned to the man who called her earlier and as always the state of him did not improve.

The man known as Knee was always dressed in some rags that Farre couldn’t even bother to describe. They were always filthy and with holes and scratches. The original colour of the attire faded a long time ago. His hair, bright red like hers, were matted and too long to be sanitary. Although, he was always shaved, surprisingly. Farre could understand that having a beard probably didn’t feel very nice, but honestly that was just speculation.

This man was just like Farre, in a way that they both belonged to the Scars and at nighttime they were safest. The central street belonged to the gang and anyone not being a part of them out on the street forfeited their safety.

Being in a gang like the Scars was not something Farre chose for herself, but when life offered you the opportunity to not live your remaining years in a literal gutter you complied, didn’t you?

“There’s a job for you, tiny.” The man beckoned Farre to come closer. He was standing at the entrance to one of the alleyways. His silhouette blended into the shadows more and more as Farre watched. The man, like Farre, was attuned to the shadow and darkness Essence first and foremost. Like any other street kid out here.

As Farre came closer she could feel an acidic stench come into the Essence. It made her stop. Like any other human she didn’t have an ability to feel emotion. Only the bestian could do that, but once in a while she was able to smell something similar. She suspected one of her parents might’ve had some bestian in them but Farre couldn’t know for certain. She sure as hell wouldn't tell anyone that theory.

She was an orphan with no known family and her thoughts on the matter were always guesses so she laid the matter to rest.

But the feeling was real. Of that she was sure. Knee was nervous for some reason and that made Farre suspicious. She’s known the man for as long she’s been alive. He was basically the most known street kid around these parts. Farre would guess he was around forty-ish and was one of the original founders of the Scars. Even though some nasty rumours could be heard about his exploits as thug extraordinaire, he was always nice enough to Farre. She couldn’t imagine him doing something to her. She’s always done what was asked of her from the gang.

“What kinda job?” She asked as she stepped into the alley. There was no light. Only impressions of shapes if one spent enough time attuning themselves to the darkness.

“The kind you don’t ask about. Here you go. Hide it somewhere good.”

Knee gave Farre something wrapped in cloth. When she looked inside her heart froze and a fresh layer of sweat broke out on her skin. This couldn’t be happening.

“What the fuck is this, Knee? Are you joking with me right now?”

He gave her a fucking shiv. There was only one thing he could be asking of her.

“What the fuck do you think, kid? It’s a kurnet shiv.” He paused to pull something from a hidden pocket. This time it was a piece of paper.

“Here. That’s the name, place, and time. You know what to do, don’t you?” Knee shifted where he stood and Farre couldn’t stop staring at the shiv he gave her.

The gang has never asked her to do anything like this. She was mostly a thief, sometimes a courier but never a thug. Never a killer.

“I don’t know what to do, Knee. You’ve never asked this of me. What the fuck changed, huh?” Maybe this was some other job. Maybe she was only to scare someone. She could do that. She could.

“Well, now I’m asking. The Scars are asking. The woman has been talking to the guards. She has to go.” He said.

“A woman? You want me to shiv a woman?!”

“What does it matter to you, huh? Stop asking questions and go.” He gestured for her to scram, but this couldn’t be it.

“Why can’t someone else do it? This kind of bullshit is not my job and you know it. So I’m repeating myself. What changed?” Asked Farre. She thought she wouldn’t get any answers from Knee but after a long pause he spoke.

“The others - Toe, Eye and I - talked and it’s been decided that you haven’t been contributing enough. The others want to see more loyalty. That’s-” He gestured to the shiv still held in Farre’s hands. “-the solution.

Farre was speechless. She’s given everything to the gang. The scars on her body told everyone to whom she belonged. She could never get a normal job or go out into the crowds at daytime. Her whole livelihood belonged to the gang. She had no money or a place to call her own. She couldn’t go anywhere without getting shived for betrayal.

And now they’re talking about how she’s not been contributing enough? Bullshit.

“You decided that? You, Knee?”

“Toe and Eye did. They don’t see the things I do. I tried to reason with them, kid. I really tried. This is the only way. The gang can’t support everyone. There have to be cuts.” Farre smelled the nervousness and sadness. The despair.

She reasoned a while back that she could only feel things like that when they were potent enough. She almost felt bad for Knee. Almost.

“So if I don’t do it, I’m cut off? Someone’s going to get rid of me then?” Farre’s question was met with silence. As Knee turned to walk away Farre heard a whisper.

“I’m sorry, tiny.” And that was that. There was only Farre and the knife staring back at her with a promise of blood. Hers or her mark.

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The note said “eastern side, the baker’s at 4, Ulaana Bargh’i”. Farre knew that place only because she heard it was one of the vendors that dealt with the gang. Some establishments paid the gangs for protection and Farre believed this place was the same. It was in the Scars' territory so Farre could walk the streets without being scared of being jumped by one of the Rats - another gang.

The name of her mark did not remind her of anyone, for which Farre was thankful for.

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The question if she should do what Knee has asked of her has been answered as soon as he told her what the consequences of failing would be. Farre did not do all the shit that she did simply to die forgotten in some alleyway. If she did everything the gang asked of her, one day she might become someone like Knee. Or Eye or Toe. Someone resourceful enough to ran far away and forget about all this bullshit.

There was still hope for the future, but only if she did this. Farre couldn’t think of another way out of this situation.

As she came closer to the bakery the note said she was supposed to head to, her hand reached into her pocket. There, she felt the rough cloth in which the weapon was wrapped in.

If a guard caught her with a weapon like that they would surely send her to jail and Unasza’s jail was basically a death sentence for a young girl like Farre. She was barely sixteen this summer so she’d make an easy prey for all the other criminals. The thought of it made Farre even more determined to not get caught.

At this time of night and in this kind of neighbourhood the guards patrolled scarcely as it was a relatively peaceful part of the city. Well, peaceful might be stretching it a bit but still better than the southern side.

The closer she got to her destination the more she felt sick at the thought of this assignment. Her thoughts couldn’t stop imagining all the different scenarios in which this could all go wrong. She wasn’t sure what to expect. Knee didn’t tell her much but if there was more to it, like the woman’s husband or something like that, Farre had a thought he would’ve told her that. She’d still be careful though. Never enough of that.

The place revealed itself behind the next turn and something vile got stuck in Farre’s throat. Before she realized what was happening she vomited on the ground next to her. It felt as if a fist took hold of her stomach and pushed everything out of her. An acidic and nervous sweat covered all of her skin and an unusual tremble settled itself into her hands.

As the last remnants of her stomach’s contents left her she sat down on the opposite wall of the alleyway she was currently in.

How could she do this? Her body visibly refused to commit the act and Farre couldn’t help but be terrified.

That fear, the terrible motivator, was what made her close her eyes and breathe deeply in and out. She couldn’t let her body control her. She had to do this. She had to get up, break into that home and kill that woman. There was no place for remorse, guilt, or anything unnecessary like that.

Farre stood up, jumped a couple of times, took her lockpick out and went to the back entrance.

There she slowly and carefully picked the lock and let herself in. The Essence around was thick with darkness and shadow so Farre let it cling to her like a cloak. If she were to do this, she’d need to be stealthy. A fight would make this even more difficult if not downright impossible to accomplish.

The house was nothing special. It looked like most of the cheap and decrepit houses around this area. The only thing that stood out was the smell of flour, yeast and freshly baked bread.

Farre stopped.

Freshly baked bread? This couldn’t be happening. How could she be this stupid?! How could have Knee been this stupid? The woman was a baker and it was four in the fucking morning. Of course, she’d be awake.

Farre was certain she did not see any light in the windows of this house. Maybe the woman went to sleep after baking or something? Farre could only hope.

As she took more tentative steps further into the house she heard a sound coming from a room farther ahead. The woman was humming.

Farre squinted her eyes and could make out very tiny amounts of light coming from that direction. Was she baking with just a candle as her light source? Of all the bakers she was supposed to kill why did it have to be this one?

Farre braced herself, took out the shiv and moved forward. She’s never had to sneak up on someone like this. Pickpocketing did not count on any confrontation with the victim. This was something else. Something that made Farre feel like a stranger in her own body. This felt so very wrong but she moved forward anyway.

Farre peeked around the corner of the doorway and could see on her left side a woman leaning over a table. Her back was turned to her and Farre almost jumped from relief. Maybe she won’t have to look the woman in the eyes as she did what she had to do.

She gripped the stubby blade tight into her fist and planned where to strike to kill quickly. Farre wasn’t much of a hunter but she heard enough stories to know that the neck was surely the best choice.

Unfortunately, only the woman’s hands were visible enough to make out anything characteristic about her. Her face and most of her body were clouded in darkness and Farre wondered what she should do regarding her limited vision.

The answer has proven itself to be easy enough. She simply had to come closer. Then she’d be able to make out the contours of the woman’s silhouette.

Farre took a step towards the woman. Once she was sure this person was still oblivious to her presence she took another and another. She got so close the woman was at her arms’ reach.

Farre’s heart wanted to jump out of her chest and she wished she could wipe her hands on her trousers. She hoped the blade would not slip from her sweaty grip.

The woman was humming and by the sound of it Farre couldn’t make out the age of this woman. She also couldn't make out the colour of her hair and skin, whether she was a tanak like her or maybe a nachtak or some part hlaagraftak. In the end what would all those things matter? Farre didn’t bother to answer that for herself.

She gripped the blade tighter and struck at the neck as quickly as she could. The shiv slipped from her grasp as she tried to puncture the woman’s neck.

Before she realized what she was doing Farre jumped onto the woman’s back as the woman’s screamed viciously. The yell pierced through Farre’s focus for a moment but she was still able to grasp the woman’s neck in her arms and squeeze. The woman obviously trashed around but with Farre’s weight on her back there was not much she could do. What she did do was grab Farre’s arms around her neck and try to pull them off. At first Farre was scared she’ll be able to do it, but the woman’s strength proved itself to be lacking.

As the screams subsided, another terrible sensation flew into the air. The worst possible feeling Farre has ever felt stunk up the Essence. Farre gagged at the impossibly vile stench of primal fear and desperation, but there was nothing left to lose from her stomach. The horrible sensation made her grip on the woman’s neck weaker, but she held on anyway.

How long it took for the woman to fall down, Farre would never be able to pinpoint. This whole situation both felt like hours and seconds. She didn’t know.

Farre fell with the woman onto the floor and even when the trashing, moaning and scratching stopped Farre couldn’t let go. Even when she noticed how the woman’s chest did not rise up or when she noticed herself to get light-headed, she didn’t let go.

Only when she heard a couple of rushing footsteps coming into her direction did she let go of the dead woman. When she touched her side, Farre’s hand came up covered in something both wet and warm. She looked to the floor and noticed a blade. She fell down onto the shiv.

Maybe this night will have two victims instead of one.

Then she looked at the dead woman and Farre’s heart jumped up the speed. It was an older woman. Wrinkles and white hair adored her face as she laid unmoving on the ground next to Farre. She heaved upon seeing the empty and horrified look in the woman’s eyes. The Essence in this room felt oppressing and heavy on her shoulders. She wanted to get out of here.

“Check that room, Mark. I’ll see what’s here. The scream had to come from somewhere.” A male voice could be heard from outside the room Farre was in. She couldn’t make herself get up, less so even to run away, so she stayed where she was sitting.

“Yes. Captain!” Some other sounds reverberated through the wooded house.

The whole ordeal took something out of Farre that she wasn’t aware she’s ever had. It was something precious she felt. Something that she lost forever. Suddenly, she felt very cold.

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A bright light made Farre close her eyes for a second. When she opened them, a man stood before her. He was wearing a standard guard uniform but also slightly different with something different that Farre couldn’t make out of.

His face was quite old, his hair and beard started to grey and a scar was visible over one of his eyes. A war vet, was what went thought Farre’s mind. Someone to look out for. Someone dangerous.

“Well, well, well. What do we have here?” Said the man as her looked at Farre. The images were starting to blur, and the ground felt like it was running away from underneath her.

“Let’s get you bandaged up, kid.” A soft voice spoke as Farre let herself fall into slumber.

A bright light shone from above her as she opened her eyes. It pierced deep into Farre’s head and created an instant headache.

“What?” A stray question fell through Farre’s lips. She couldn’t remember where she was or how she got there. She could remember Knee and something that he said, but after that there was a blank spot in her memory.

“You awake?” A voice spoke from Farre’s left. She couldn’t help but jump. Or at least she tried to, but a piercing pain flashed through her side. How? What? When did she get injured?

“Easy there, kid? It’s small but quite deep. It’d be for the best if you’d rest some.” Said the voice again. Farre allowed her eyes to fall upon the person sitting next to her bed.

It was a guard. An older one from what Farre could see. With salt and pepper hair and a captain’s cloak over his shoulders. His face looked kind enough but you could never tell with a guard. Most of them were just assholes.

“Whe- where am I? Why?” Farre managed to say, but her throat felt as if she swallowed a bunch of sand. She coughed.

“You’re at the eastern outpost. I’m Captain Rados Kalwani. As for why - you don’t remember?” Said the older man.

Eastern outpost? What was she doing on the eastern side of the city? She had no business there-

No.

No. No. No. This was not real. It had to be some sort of sick nightmare.

“Oh, seems like you remember, don’t ya?” This man - Farre remembered now - he came to the baker’s place and saw everything Farre had done. She killed someone tonight.

She killed someone.

“Hey, kid. Listen here.” His voice called to Farre. She looked at his face. It was a simple face and the man’s eyes held no disgust with Farre. How could they not? After what she’s done.

“Have you ever thought about enlisting?” Asked the man.

“Um, what?”