Target To Save

Chapter 1 Part 2

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 "I bag bodies, I don't save them." Ivalin grimaced as a needle bound the skin on her arm back together. The bed she sat on was hard, dirty, and no place for an operation. Still, Jaizya stitched up the wound with nimble fingers that had danced this dance one time too many.

"I know." Jaizya repeated, amusement lacing their tone.

The safe house was warm, snuggled between two empty apartments that held a mix of families that never slept. The room was grimy, but so was the city, Avgrim, so it all worked out in the end.

"I've killed people. Two hundred and fifty years worth of them." Ivalin leafed through the packet with one hand, scanning the information. She wondered if the shaking was normal. If the anger that rose in her chest and burned in her throat was normal. If the tortured screams that whispered in her mind were normal.

"This is a test run. To see how well you do." Jaizya gently reminded her as she knotted and cut the string. They pulled back, their hands stained with red.

Blood from the open wound on their sharp face dripped onto the carpet. They stared at the stain and sighed.

Ivalin glanced up from the packet. Her eyes searched the shadows in the room. The complaint caught in her throat before she whispered, "This is madness."

"It doesn't matter. You were contracted to save the President's son after an illegal hit was put on him." Jaiza's voice was soft. They stood, grabbing a large bandaid for their forehead before putting the first aid kit in an empty drawer.

Ivalin's shoulder tightened, and she looked down. "Yes ma'am."

Jaizya sighed, forcing Ivalin to scoot over. Her body was warm and boney, and Ivalin tried her best not to lean into it. "Look, this isn't ideal for anyone. But you'll do amazing. You always do." Ivalin closed her eyes and counted to ten. Jaizya exhaled at Ivalin's hesitation, "If you really don't want to, I'll find another way."

Sighing, Ivalin let her harsh brown eyes drift to Jaizya. "I'm the best asset for this job."

Jaizya's head snapped up. Their eyes darkened as they frowned at Ivalin's symmetrical face. "You're not an asset. You're a person."

"I was given Mercies, both Basic and Experimental." Their eyes locked, and Ivalin did her best not to back down, "I have the brands of them, the benefits of them," The two small dots and the line between them that were branded on the back of her shoulder burned. Jaizya rubbed their wrist where their two dots were hidden. Ivalin bit the inside of her cheek, and when she tasted blood, let it go. "I look sixteen," She wondered why she was arguing for a job she didn't want to do, "and I work for the Sisterhood."

"Not like you have much of a choice." Jaizya's tone was dry, but when Ivalin didn't react, their face softened, "And you're experienced." Jaizya shifted with a sly smile, knocking their shoulder into Ivalin's.

Looking away from Jaizya, Ivalin concentrated at the mold growing on the wall. "Not when it comes to saving people. I was the Renegade. Saving people meant the mission failed." Pride leaked into her voice against her will. "And I never failed."

A heavy pause sat in the air. The whole, until you ran away from them was left untouched, but it sizzled anyways.

"That's not what I'm talking about." Jaizya leaned in closer, their voice gentle. Jaizya looked twenty, but their actual age was unknown. A lot of assassins were like that.

Bleeding Hearts wasn't kind to anyone.

"I was with them for a very long time, and I did terrible things because of them." Footsteps echoed down the hallway, and Ivalin focused on them for a second. A door slammed, and the sounds faded into nothing.

"We both did, and we're both Runners."

"You left when you were only Dame Blanche. I stayed for as long as I could. I climbed until there was nowhere else to go." Ivalin didn't clench her jaw. She didn't let her voice raise.

"Kid," Jaizya frowned, "There was a difference in circumstances. She's your mom."

"She isn't." Ivalin's tone was level, cold. "She's the leader of a terrorist group that killed my parents and took me in when I was young. She's nothing more than that."

Jaizya's green eyes darkened. "She raised you."

"She crafted me. She perfected me." Ivalin's symmetrical face bore a fraction of the physical evidence of Mère's work. Her smile, the way her long hair fell was all a product of someone else's standards, and it burned when Ivalin thought about it.

"She did that to all of us," The past, the screams, the tourture flashed in Jaizya's eyes, "but she loved you."

"She didn't," Ivalin pleaded, panic racing in her chest.

Jaizya didn't relent, "Her love was twisted and cruel, but it was there."

"Please."

Closing their eyes, Jaizya sighed, "The point being, it'll all be okay."

Jaizya's reassurance did nothing to relax Ivalin's tense shoulders. Jaizya cracked their knuckles absentmindedly, and Ivalin's eyes moved to a knife that was laying half-hazaridly on the desk.

"Look, I know this might be boring, but the leader of the Bleeding Hearts put out the order for the assassination of the President's son." Ivalin bit the inside of her cheek. Rubbing the Sisterhood crest on her arm, Jaizya's face softened. "You don't have to."

Ivalin froze. Her eyes whipped to Jaiza. Something close to panic spread on her face. "Orders are orders."

Leaning back, Jaizya tilted their head until it hit the bland wall with a thud. "You always have choices."

"Yes ma'am." Ivalin's jaw clenched at the way Jaizya's eyes flashed.

Jaizya paused, taking a deep breath, and let their green eyes search Ivalin's "Hey, I'll make sure you have them."

Abruptly standing up, Ivalin crossed the room and grabbed the cold knife that had been laying discarded on the desk. Jaizya snorted, but Ivalin tucked it into a sheath. "You get orders. You follow them. You complete them. The end."

"There's more to life." Jaizya sat up, creases raced across her forehead. Concern flashed across their face.

Ivalin grabbed the leather jacket that was hanging in the shattered closet. She pulled it on, her tone darker than it should have been. "Yes sir."

Jaizya rolled their eyes, their lips curling into a smile, and Ivalin let out a breath. "I think mom is more accurate than sir."

"You're my Micheal not my mom." Ivalin bit her lip, and looked up to Jaizya who was beaming.

"So what, just because the sisterhood told me you're my charge and I have to rehabilitate you into society because the government doesn't trust people with mercies to be normal, I can't be a mom figure in your life?" Light seemed to leak through Jaizya's happiness.

Ivalin raised an eyebrow, trying not to let her glee show. "Exactly."

Jaizya stood up, playfully ruffling Ivalin's hair. "Get to work."

A modest grin grew on Ivalin's lips, and Jaizya sauntered over to Ivalin, towering over her. Pride leaked through Jaizya's voice. "You'll do great. You always do."

Ivalin's fingers twitched as she resisted the urge to pick at the wound. "Off to Highschool. Again."