“This one is different.” She repeated to herself. Hundreds of missions for Malie and even more assassinations, she had not failed even once before. Her keen instinct and honed skills devoted to nothing less than absolute success, yet now she found herself in an unprecedented form for a mission.

Learning ever since she began training from five years of age, she would be at fault and hence she was never faulty. Last thing she wanted to do was blame the faulty intelligence, in her defense, it was unreasonably vague and misleading.

Memories of the events that took place a couple days ago surfaced, of the brief interaction with the elderly man and her merciless execution. She had expected to meet this boy named Zilian instead of who she learned to be Farame, she wasted her time going the opposite direction. One of her more useful skills was being able to read emotions written in body language, distinguishing them from the truth, lies and everything else that lay hidden beneath the mask - that included knowing when an individual would stop speaking.

She smiled as she remembered how she ended his life, drawing her blade out of the elder’s stomach and finished him off by slicing off his throat, revering the fear that burned in his eyes. The humor in it all was his dying breath, the last thing on his mind.

“Forgive me.”

True, she honestly did not know what he was asking forgiveness for, whether if it was him betraying the Mountain by acquiring and attempting to give a very fragile piece of intelligence to the Swamp. Or if it was him giving up this boy to her, although granted, it was not willingly. Whatever it may have been, she adored the natural reaction of fear from all of her victims squirming desperately for life.

If you stumble upon this narrative on Amazon, it's taken without the author's consent. Report it.

Her next target was not not slated for assassination, it was a Fifth Order mission. Her missions as an assassin varied often, but the one thing that never changed was that assassins were the special operatives. Time to time they fight in the front lines, but only to hunt down high value targets they knew to be in the battle. The Fifth Order was a protocol to bring the directed target alive back to the Capital, either by convincing the possible asset or by force, in that particular order.

Malie had plans for Zilian and her job was to support him no matter what, though she would honestly prefer to get rid the boy and take his blade then go through all this trouble of seduction. As it was, she needed to find him around where she was not certain of precisely where he was at.

“He may have a head start, but it is a small advantage. I will succeed and he will join us.”

Since Forest Mist had been razed to the ground, Zilian would have nowhere else to go except towards the east, starting with Kartick. That is where she was headed now, to the great Kartick city. The plan in itself was simple, infiltrate and scout for where he might be and once target is confirmed she would then extract him. Even though it was straightforward, a final detail that every assassin from the Mountain must uphold in any case is to act in absolute secrecy as if they never existed.

She reached the edge of the forest, just outside of the plots of farm stretching all around the city Kartick, the sun rising from the horizon past the city. A small river that cut through the city flowed out through gated sewers, which she would use to infiltrate the heavily guarded populous. It would not be hard to blend with the people, especially since Kartick was overcrowded with refugees.

The boy more than likely had already left, she instinctively knew it. However, to get a clue to where he is bound to go next, this was the only place to find out. There were always bread crumbs left behind, and just like always she would find and follow them to the end of the trail.

This mission will be completed, Malie would not have anything less. She wholeheartedly believe in herself, just as she does in her master.