The Scrolls of Fractured Memories

CHAPTER THREE'

tw: graphic description of blood and stabbing? ig lol

Haven Corellon

Light spewed onto the wooden oak table that settled a lamp in the middle of it. Haven Corellon was perched in a pub that reeked of drunken and brawling men. She was as casual as she could be, dressed in an ordinary tunic and black pants that fitted her well. She kept a knife hidden tucked under the tunic, after all, this part of Orsella was full of thugs and men that you would have to look out for. The dingy and ashen streets that were soaked in thievery, gambling and deals made within the faction of people that could never be trusted. Haven realized this better than anyone just a year shy to twenty should.

She had a not so good life but she knew that life could never be good, for anyone. Circumstances were always going to make choices for you. That's what had happened all her life to her. Being independent was something she learnt quite early. Having the already ruined family that she had to fend for competing with her desires to run away from all this. Be alone. That's something she could do. Living by herself had been easier to her so she wanted things to stay that way.

As her thoughts quieted over in her mind, drowning in the chatters of inane men and women, gossiping. She sat there, gazing at the window that was situated near the other end of the bar, her mind focused through every swarming thought. Haven kept a blank look at her face throughout, looking as tempered as the effects of alcohol she could feign. She was disguised right now. Disguised as a normal person wanting to blend her sorrows and problems in the numbed void that alcohol could present you with.

Haven couldn't let her guard down, ever. Especially not in the situation that she was in right about now. Being who she was, her job entailed many things and that encompassed morals. Morals that kept her from falling apart, it was a boundary that she wouldn't cross. This particular assignment needed her to kill a woman, Trianne.

Haven would not go over the boundaries that she created for herself but she would never fully refuse an assignment. This woman was assigned to her by an anonymous party that did not want to be named. Leaving the only knowledge that it was a woman was gave her the target, she had nothing else on her. Or so the woman who had assigned her thought. The woman donned a mask when they met, the same as Haven. Haven always had her identity concealed when she dealt with this part of job, never getting close to even having anyone let a sliver of suspicion on her.

Haven had noticed the little things on their meeting, or atleast tried to. To capture all the subtle things that could differ in telling Haven more about this woman. She had noticed the money the women gave her, with half of them containing the official currency of her kingdom, Tsenira. And the other near half being a few gold and copper coins. There. There was the difference that she had been searching for, the notes were rolled outwards. That only strung her curiosity more. The only place you'd find notes rolled outwards was in Morwag. Morwag was the chalice of all things trafficked. Money, drugs, humans. That's when Haven's suspicion rose. This could be a trap or something bad.

Haven couldn't just be straightforward in situations like these, she remembered keeping a blank face as she took the money. Having a deadline of ten days, she had to find out about the woman who brought the target to her and to check upon Trianne, that was the task of the part that was not about to cross any boundaries.

Haven had been paid a little over half the wage that she'd negotiated. But only after securing that the woman who was to be assassinated was someone who deserved to be. So here she was, in between chattering whispers of household things and infidelity to catch something, something that would help her.

Haven had killed people, with the lot of them being abusers, molesters and murderers who killed innocents with no remorse. She had only killed people that warranted their death all on their own. She couldn't actually figure out why she started doing this. But her skills were precise, so was her technique and she was always one to learn. But she did want a normal life. A life that wouldn't mess her up like her father.