Elmara is a 19 year old assassin who does jobs for the nations wealthy. She's used to the normal ones, killing a mayor's son or a representatives daughter, and even helping the King. But now, she's been called to the castle, by the king for a job ou...
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No sirens. I get out of bed quickly, almost pulling the curtains from the window to look outside. The sun shines bright outside, but more importantly, it's a normal day. No tranquility cars. No red sirens. Everything's fine. Still, I can't keep my eyes from searching everywhere. All the street corners, where the light doesn't shine between buildings. Anywhere tranquilities could hide. Why are you scared? I don't know. I choose to sneak out. When I'm done searching I fall back onto my bed. He didn't report me. I allow myself a small chuckle before getting out of bed, into the small bathroom my room is connected with. It's cramped, you could almost trip over the toilet getting to the shower, but it does well. My bathroom is the one with the least trouble, Zayden's gets clogged every week. Thankfully, we have enough money laying around to get someone to fix it. In fact, our plumber is as regular as a hairdresser. Practically family. If only clogging was a job, he would be hired instantly. But no one's hiring him anymore. No one needs the help, much less from a troubled teenager with anger issues. Zayden checks all those boxes. ****************************
The news channel volume blasts in my ears, the reporters voice beginning to irritate me.
"John could you turn that down?!" I yell across the facility floor. His eyes remain on the papers, unwavering and showing no reaction. No one else looks at me either, used to my yelling. I know he hears me, the door to his small office is open, and the walls are thin glass. Sometimes he makes me want to smash them through. I could maybe, if he didn't see it coming. I let the voice on the tv slip away, until king catches my ear.
With the king once having his coronation at just 20 years old, he is set to have his son follow in similar footsteps. Although it will be a long while until the prince rules himself, talk of a future queen is spreading throughout the nation's leaders. The king is set to have the yearly ball next month, where he will have his son meet with princesses outside of Hyrenn and determine who will rule along-side him in the future. The princess, Alexandria, daughter of King Marconthos in Loroski is confirmed to be attending the ball as well. Rumor has it that Hyrenn's leaders approve of the alliance the marriage would create between Hyrenn and Loroski, salvaging the peace at our borders. More will be revealed in the weeks leading to the ball.
I scoff when the short announcement is over, but look to the screen to see the past images of the previous balls. My eyes search the photos, hoping to see the crown prince, by some royal ensignia or his crown. But as usual, nothing. No one has ever seen the crown prince besides the people he was born with. No one knows what he looks like, and his existence could be a mere fantasy at this point. There are rumors though, of the prince leaving the castle and coming in deeper into Hyrenn, and his rude behavior to almost everyone. Arrogant asshole are the best words to describe him. There are people who spotted him. But those people are all dead now, the rumors crushed with their bodies.
I should know what the royal's look like, I've done multiple jobs for them in my lifetime. In a 'democratic' nation, there's always someone needing to be dealt with. Rebels, politicians, sometimes even people who become too big of an annoyance to the court. I tell myself that I'm doing the right thing for the wrong person.
Just then a sharp ring comes over the speakers. It's different from the usual alarm, but familiar nonetheless. We reserve the sharp ringing for the important requests. We call them requests because we reserve the right to decide if we want to do a job or not. Although, rarely anyone ever declines any of them, including me. It's good money.
John's fingers clack against the keyboard as he pulls up the request information. It always follows the same format, no matter who it comes from.
Name of A: _______ Code number of host: _______ Location: ________ Timespan: ______ Multiple needed? (Yes/No) Extra Notes: ______ Payment: ______
I hear gasps from around the facility, followed by the familiar ding when a message is marked as received. I pay them no attention, but my head shoots up when I hear Roland also gasp lightly. Everyone else's reactions I'm used too, overdramatic assassins, but Roland is always quiet. I shoot my eyes up to the screen, and I see familiar numbers bolded.
Name of A: Astra Code number of host: 17569 Location: Palace, HK Timespan: Unsure Multiple needed? (Yes/No) Extra Notes: Unsure of time span, will update when known. Payment: 15000 Hyna.
Now it was my turn to be surprised. It's a request from the king, but nothing like I usually got. I had never been called to the palace. The pay was tripled. And the timespan wasn't explained. No, you can't do this. This had to be a suicide mission. No one ever skipped the timespan. The way we would be able to tell if one of our assassins died if they didn't return on time. Every part of me is telling me not to do it.
"Elmara," John calls my name. I walk up to right below the screen, where the smaller screen sits. I have to accept or decline the request, and then sign my name below it. It's good money. You could see the castle. It can't be too difficult. I feel my fingers beginning to shake, and my mind continues to go over the possibilities. You could die. Your family would be left with nothing. This could help them. I trace my signature on the screen, writing 'Astra' with curvy letters. I hated the name when John gave it to me, but at least it wasn't 'Rolinda'. Poor Malia got stuck with that one. When I finish squiggling 'Astra', my finger hesitates over the two buttons. Accept or Decline. I take a deep breath in, and when I let it back out, my finger drops on one of the buttons. I accept.
"You must have a death wish." I hear from behind me when I get off the podium.
"It's good money Roland," I sigh. "And I'll get to see the castle again" I smirk at him. He's at my side now, and rolls his eyes at my comment. We continue walking to the printing room together.
"Let's pray you have at least a month to prepare for whatever it is that bastard wants you to do." He spits. I see his hands clench into fists at the mention of the king.
"Yeah well, that bastard is not patient," I say, pushing open the printing room door. I go to the nearest computer and scroll through the request list. When I see my name pop up on the screen, I click it and the information pops up. It's the same as what it was on the podium screen, but this time there is a 'print' button beneath it rather than 'accept or decline'. I click it, and immediately the printer begins to hum as it prints out the form. When it's done, I grab it and read the bottom information. Roland peers at the paper over my shoulder, and let's out a breath when he's read it. I'm to go to the castle in one week's time. I burn the paper on my way out.
