Maeve

Today they were throwing a party of sorts to welcome the new members of The Mariposa. Kalon was thrilled as she flitted around the room, getting prepared. I wished I felt the same, but the entire day I had a sick feeling in my stomach that refused to go away, accompanied by a slight migraine.

“Which suit should I wear?” she asked, rifling through her closet.

I snorted from where I sat, watching her on my bed. “They’re all the same, Kalon. Literally, all the exact same.”

She sighed, glancing over her shoulder. “You could’ve indulged me for one second.”

I smiled. “I’m glad you’re so excited. How’d you even end up learning about The Mariposa, anyways?” I asked, genuinely curious. How anyone ended up learning of or joining was a mystery, as I was the only one I knew of who had been born into it.

Her body froze at the question, immediately going tense. She was silent as she grabbed a suit, laying it down on her bed. She gently smoothed her hand over as I shifted uncomfortably, still waiting for her answer.

“Kalon?”

“How does anyone end up joining The Mariposa, Maeve? All of us, at some point, were wronged by the nobility and wanted to do something to change it. Anything beyond that is none of your business,” she paused, sitting down on her bed across from mine, her eyes several shades darker as she glared at me through a half-lidded gaze. “And you would be wise to not ask so many questions. Assassins don’t tend to like being questioned such personal things.”

I winced. “Alright, I’m sorry. Forget I said anything.”

Once we were sufficiently prepared, we headed towards our cafeteria where all the Mariposa who weren’t currently on missions were gathered. They filled the room with their noise, grouped mostly with the members from their respective dorms or mission crews. The majority of them were jovial and loud as they excitedly talked to one another in the cafeteria, but there was one group I noticed were oddly silent.

The Palos Verdes sat at the end of the room, taking up the entirety of one side of their long table, their backs to the windows that shed a light on the entire room. The other side of the table was completely empty, despite the room being packed. Apparently, their expressions made them too unapproachable for anyone to dare. They made very little conversation with each other, instead simply watching everyone with mixed expressions of judgement and wariness.

There was one Palos Verdes however that had a slightly softer expression than his companions, seeming less hardened. I caught his eye and he hesitated, before giving me a small smile from across the room. I smiled back.

“The Palos Verdes are so cool, aren’t they? I hope someday I can join them, don’t you?” Kalon asked, noticing where my attention was pointed.

I nodded slowly, following her to where the food was. As we were getting our trays, Azriel’s voice came over the intercom:

“Hello, my fellow Mariposa. I hope everyone is enjoying their meals and getting to know one another. Get to know the new members and maybe share some secrets of the trade. We want to make sure that one day, they will be just as valuable to the Mariposa as our best are.”

Cheering erupted through the room, and out of curiosity, I glanced towards the Palos Verdes. If anything, the scowls had deepened.

“Where in the world should we sit?” Kalon pondered, scanning the room.

I shrugged. “There are empty seats across from the Palos Verdes.”

Her head slowly turned my way, her expression one of extreme disbelief. “Maeve, I know we’re new here, but do you really think it wise to sit across from them? They look like they would hiss at us if we even looked at them too long.”

I laughed slightly at that. “That’s fair, but I don’t see many other options, Kalon. Do you?”

She sighed, giving the room one more once over. “If we get our heads bitten off, it’s on you.”

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I laughed again, linking my arm with hers as we made our way towards the Palos Verdes. I subtly guided her towards the left end of the table where the man I caught the eye of earlier sat.

Smiling at him now, I gestured towards the chair across him. “Is it okay if we sit here? We’re new members.”

He nodded, smiling back at me once more. I immediately sat down, but Kalon was slightly more hesitant, slowly sitting beside me.

“I’m Harrow. I’ve been part of The Mariposa since I was a teenager. You two couldn’t be much older than teenagers, yourselves, huh?”

“I’m eighteen. My name is Maeve.” I replied.

Kalon nodded. “Nineteen, Kalon.” she added.

Harrow nodded. “Figures. The Mariposa tend to recruit young.”

I couldn’t help myself as my next words slipped out before my better instincts could catch up: “How did you end up learning about and joining The Mariposa?”

Kalon swiftly pinched my leg from under the table and I watched Harrow’s polite smile waver as he averted his gaze.

“The Mariposa aren’t found, Maeve. They are the ones finding people. How they do that is a mystery of course, but they have an extensive database of everyone in this kingdom. They have their ways of knowing who would be a valuable asset to the Mariposa, and an invitation to compete to join is promptly sent to them. Anything beyond that is normally best not to question.”

I nodded slowly, glad he had at least given me more information than Kalon had.

The Palos Verdes sitting on Harrow’s right had apparently been listening into our conversation as he suddenly piped in:

“Have either of you gone on your first mission yet?”

My stomachache which had seemed to subside slightly suddenly came back in a full force, a bit of nausea rising up inside me.

Kalon shook her head. “I’m supposed to be briefed in the coming days about my first one.”

Harrow smiled, but it was tinged with a sad resignation. “Prepare yourself. The first mission is always a rough one.”

My gaze immediately shot down to my lap, the baby’s cry still ringing in my ear.

“Don’t scare them off like that, Harrow. Some of us love the missions, even the first one. Something about holding someone at gunpoint for the first time, seeing the fear in their eyes, their entire life hanging on the movement of your hand is addictive, like a drug,” said the other Palos Verdes.

His words had the nausea bubbling up in my stomach, my skin suddenly feeling clammy and sticky. A lump formed in my throat, and I leaned over, gripping my stomach in discomfort.

“Shut up, man. You’re making them uncomfortable,” came Harrow’s voice but it sounded more like a distant echo, the world blurring around me as my face warmed.

“Oh come on, after all these years, you’re telling me you don’t get a little enjoyment at watching the life drain out of their eyes? Morbid curiosity at the way the blood spills out of them?”

Her face flashed to my mind, her eyes still opened as she laid unconscious, several bullet holes in her from my very wrist gun.

I didn’t realize I was collapsing until Harrow caught me, pulling me back up. “Hey, hang on to me. I’ll take you to get some air,” came his gentle voice from what seemed like miles away.

He threw my arm over his shoulder, his other arm holding me tight to him as he gently pulled me out of the cafeteria. My vision was blurry but as we left, I could see that everyone’s eyes were on me, and it did nothing to help my nausea.

He brought me into the hallway, leaning me against the wall. Slowly I slid to my knees, gripping them as I tried to breathe through the nausea. He knelt before me, offering his hands.

“Post traumatic stress. It’s not something most of these Mariposa are going to be open to talking to you about, but almost all of us experience it, in our own ways. Hold my hands and squeeze as tight as you can. It’ll give you something to focus on and put you back in the present.”

I reached for his hands and saw just how shaky my movements were. Grasping his hands, I squeezed with all of my might as I took careful, steady breaths.

“Good, good. Inhale. Hold. Exhale. Keep doing that. Name some things in your surroundings. Where are you?”

“I’m in a hallway. I’m in a hallway at the headquarters. I’m sitting on the cold floor.”

“What are you doing?”

“I’m holding your hands. I’m breathing.”

“What can you feel?”

I let my fingers travel over his hands, my vision finally becoming normal, my stomach settling. “Your callouses. Your knees touching mine.”

He nodded, tilting my head up. His expression was so heartbreakingly gentle, I couldn’t help but immediately trust this man I had just met. “Are you feeling better now?”

I nodded slightly, scooting away to bring my knees to my chest.

“I’m assuming from your reactions that you have had your first mission,” he said.

I nodded once more. “Yesterday,” my voice quiet, still not quite sure I could trust myself enough to speak.

”My comrade in there was playing it cool. It’s not nearly as easy as he was claiming, unless you’re a psychopath. But… it does get easier. You will learn how to handle the after-effects the same way you will learn how to kill.”

“Thank you. So far, everyone has been pretty cold towards me. But you’ve been really gentle and welcoming,” I said earnestly, hanging onto the anchor that was his steady gaze on mine.

He nodded. “I’m being the person I wished I had met when I joined the Mariposa ten years ago. I will continue to be that person for you, Maeve. That is my promise. Understand? If you need anything, come to me.”

I smiled. “I suppose it wouldn’t be appropriate as an assassin to ask for a hug?”

He laughed, standing to his feet. “Well learned, Maeve. Maybe someday. Now get on your feet and soldier on."