Zen's feet dangled in the air as his butt rested on the fancy balustrade. He gazed at the moonless sky, letting a cold, humid breeze ruffle his blonde hair. With a swift motion, Zen swung his feet high above his head, leaving his grip on the railing at the same time and landed on the balcony soundlessly.
The balcony was on the fourth and topmost floor and overlooked one of the smallest ports of the Commonwealth. It wasn't the best vantage point but Zen didn't really intend to scout, his client had provided him with enough info regarding his target.
'Man, it's making me sick,' Zen thought to himself as he mulled over the residence of a middle-class family in the Commonwealth. Supported by more than necessary columns, redundant murals, expensive awnings, and roofs drenched in colors as if a rainbow had belched on them, that's what an average house in this part of the world looked like. For him, the delusional beauty of the buildings in Commonwealth paled in comparison to the majesty of the towering crystal skyscrapers from his homeland.
It was way past midnight but the city was awake. Hundreds of women crowded the port, hair tied in a neat bun and right hands raised clutching scarves embossed with their respective family crests. They faced the departing ships bearing their husbands, brothers, sons, and fathers. Glowing runes of happiness and woe sprawled over their lavender gowns, their white glow pierced the darkness like an arrow piercing a naked body. It was a day of merry and woe as their men headed for the most honored conflict of all time, the Gentlemanly Wars.
Zen always found it funny that a conflict that spanned the numerous and everchanging nations of the Commonwealth, lasting for over a century was named 'gentlemanly.' There was no honor in the killing, in taking lives, after all, he was an assassin of Azure, a nation whose main exports were mercenaries, bodyguards, and assassins. He played with death for a living. But he wasn't a pacifist by any account, as the war was the only reliable source of income. In this day and age, the world was at peace, except for the Commonwealth, where war and prosperity went hand in hand.
Anyway, none of it mattered. Zen had to eliminate his target, as usual, get back to his family in Azure, collect the rest of the payment from the Guild, and celebrate his birthday. After all, he was turning twenty-two in a few days.
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Zen pulled up his collar which doubled as a cowl and with a harsh tug hiked the stretchy fabric up to the bridge if his nose, effectively covering most of his face. Without hesitating he jumped off the balcony and landed on the cobbled street soundlessly.
Casting 'Lightfeet', Zen dashed into the closest alleyway. There was no need for taking the longer route, most men with any level of martial training had already left, so there were no guards patrolling, and since there was a lack of manpower, the Aether street lamps remained extinguished, the chances of getting spotted were low but old habits die fast.
Zen dashed in the shadows at speed thrice that of a normal human. After sprinting for fifteen minutes unceasingly, he arrived at his destination.
A ramshackle warehouse stood in the middle of an overgrazed pasture, sticking out like a sore thumb. The construction was poorly done and the walls' original grey color was stripped away by the green moss. A single window blessed the building with some ventilation and a wooden door hanging from a single hinge swung lightly and groaned and creaked as if on the verge of a painful death.
In the last three years, he had been working as an assassin, this was the first time where his instincts screamed danger. Unperturbed, Zen cast two detection spells in succession, a common trick used by assassins to fish out targets as normal folks were able to cast only one blocking spell. Still, nothing showed up on his mental radar.
"I thought this dude was a bigshot in the army or something, there's no way someone of that status, is living in a shack without any guards. What are you playing with?" Zen was surprised that he had just voiced his thoughts out loud in an unsafe environment. A rookie mistake, a symptom of the growing uneasiness in his heart.
Zen charged towards the door and jumped, with 'Lightfeet' in effect he easily cleared the single-story height of the structure and landed on its flat, rectangular roof, which was surprisingly strong considering the rest of the warehouse was on the verge of collapsing under its weight.
As soon as his feet made contact with the roof, an invasive pressure enveloped his ears. Although it was a slight change, it caused enough discomfort to be noticed. Zen recognized it as a side-effect of a noise-blocking spell.
The presence of such a spell meant only two things, either a high profile meeting was going on nearby... Zen raised his hand in time to deflect the crossbow bolt with his vambrace... or an assassin was at work.