Aaron walks through the market, passively examining the various wares of the different vendors as he passes. He stops by one booth and peruses the items, pretending to be interested. Really, he’d rather be on the next street over, he knows there’s a lovely sandwich shop, and he didn’t have a chance to eat breakfast this morning. But, Lucian said he needed to be on this street. Aaron doesn’t see how much a single block really matters, but he knows better than to argue with his older brother when he’s got his mind set on something.
Still, Aaron thinks as he picks up a gold pocket watch from the vendor’s table, examining it, he definitely owes me lunch for this.
“See anything you like?” The old vendor asks, sidling up to him.
Aaron’s been in the Moon Level long enough to know how these cons work. Still, he plays along, per Lucian’s instructions.
Aaron holds up the pocket watch. “How much for this?” he asks.
The old woman crosses her arms.
“That one? Oh, it’s gotta be at least 200.”
“Really? Pretty steep, considering how dinged up it is,” Aaron replies, as though he actually cares about haggling over this ugly hunk of metal.
“Well, it has to do with the previous owner, see? A very prominent nobleman. Family heirloom. They pay out the nose for this stuff. It’s also solid gold.”
It’s definitely not solid gold. Aaron can see the gold plating flaking off on the edges. But that’s all part of the act, isn’t it? He’s too polite to interrupt the woman during her spiel, and he’s waiting for someone, so he’ll let it slide.
“But you seem like the shrewd sort, so I’ll tell you what,” the woman continues, “I’ll knock off 20, just for you.”
This is the part where he’s supposed to argue with her, something like “that’s clearly not real gold,” or “what kind of noble would ever pay for something like this?” but he doesn’t feel like playing by the rules. She just needs him to talk and not notice the little boy about to pick his pocket. So, talk he does.
“Has anyone ever told you that you should get into acting?”
“I- what?”
“You have the face for it.”
The old woman actually blushes. “Well-”
And suddenly, Aaron’s left pocket feels lighter. Good.
“There’s this one play that they’re casting for, I think at the place on the corner of Warren and 2nd, and they’re looking for someone to play a hag. I just thought you should try throwing your name in for consideration.”
“WHAT?!”
Aaron drops the watch and steps back before she can throw something at him. He raises his hands defensively.
“I’m just saying, there’s good money in it,” he says.
Then she shrieks and throws the “gold” pocket watch at him, missing by a mile.
“Careful,” he says, backing away with a grin, “someone told me that’s priceless.”
“Get out of here!” she snarls.
Aaron gives her a quick salute and ducks under the shoe she chucks at him next.
Now, where did that kid go?
He sees the boy disappear into a nearby alley. Aaron doesn’t wait around for the old woman’s aim to get any better. He steps into the alley after the boy, just in time to see him open the bag he lifted from his pocket. The boy looks absolutely crestfallen as he finds it full of candy instead of money.
Aaron leans against the brick wall and pulls out his actual wallet from the inner pocket of his coat, then starts playing with a gold coin.
“You can keep that,” Aaron says, “but if you want my money, you’ll have to do something for me first.”
The boy startles and looks like he wants to run, but his eyes lock onto the coin.
“And you can keep the full cut instead of sharing it with the hag,” Aaron adds.
The street rat pockets the bag of candy and watches Aaron warily.
“What do you want?” he asks.
“I’m looking for someone. A man and a woman.”
The boy listens carefully as Aaron gives him the full description.
“Ain’t seen the man. But I saw a woman like that, heading toward the canal. She had a real big dog with her,” he says.
“When was that?”
“‘Bout ten minutes ago.”
Aaron flicks the boy the coin, which he catches with ease.
“Perfect. Thanks.”
As Aaron turns to leave, he pulls up his hood, covering his stark red hair. It doesn’t take long for him to reach the section of the canal that the boy was talking about. A faint mist stirs above the water, but today has been a surprisingly clear day. The lamps in this area haven’t been updated to the newer electric lights, but the lack of rain or fog makes it easier to see a greater distance than usual. That’s both good and bad. Bad for Aaron. Good for Lucian. And, potentially, very good for their quarry.
It’s strange, Aaron could have sworn this section of the canal was usually busier, but today it’s completely emp-
There’s a sharp whistle that echoes off the surrounding walls as Aaron steps closer to the water.
Aw, shit.
A street rat vanishes around the corner, having done their job as lookout.
I really thought the candy would have won them over, Aaron thinks glumly. Ten years ago, it would have worked on him at least.
“No loyalty anymore,” Aaron mutters.
“Agreed, you can’t trust anyone these days.”
Aaron doesn’t have a chance to turn around before someone kicks him straight into the canal. He comes up sputtering. The canal water tastes terrible and slimy, and this is not a good day for a dip. On the bank of the canal, the man who kicked him watches him flounder with a bright grin. Aaron tries to swim to the edge of the canal to haul himself out, and the man steps closer to the edge.
“You really think I’m going to make it that easy for you, kid?”
He steps on Aaron’s face, pushing him under the water again. Aaron tries to grab his foot, but it’s already gone. And so is the man when he resurfaces. Aaron drags himself out of the canal and sees the tail end of a wolf disappear around the corner. Still spitting out canal water, he books it after him, shedding his water-logged coat in the process.
As he turns the corner, the wolf is gone again. It’s completely still. It’s a quaint little apartment district, with planters overhanging the street from each window. Aaron huffs out a breath in irritation.
I am not going to fall for that a second time.
It’s just because you’re not paying close attention. If you use your magic…
Aaron looks around for any sign of the wolf.
I don’t need it for this.
Aaron pauses when he hears something rustling behind him. As he turns, two vines from one of the planters are snaking toward him. He draws a knife just as they lunge, trying to entangle his hands. He severs them easily.
“Really?” Aaron says, yanking the severed vines away from the planter. “That’s the best you’ve got, Vaughn?”
“No, I just think it’s funny to watch you dance.”
Aaron’s eyes glow blue as he throws the knife toward the voice. Across the street, leaning on one of the balconies overhead, Vaughn raises a hand and the nearby plants join together to create a shield just before the knife hits him in the face. Hilt-first, of course. Aaron doesn’t actually want to kill him. Though, breaking his nose is completely acceptable.
As the knife tumbles to the ground, Vaughn releases the shield in a flurry of leaves. The silver glow from his eyes flickers out. Vaughn smiles smugly.
“That was almost impressive, Aaron.”
Vaughn turns as he prepares to climb up onto the roof. Aaron grins.
“Not as impressive as how quick you are to run with your tail between your legs,” he says.
Vaughn pauses and gives Aaron a scowl.
“Dog puns. Seriously?”
Aaron shrugs.
“I’ve got more.”
“Don’t.”
“Right now, you’re all bark and no bite.”
Vaughn rubs his temples. Aaron steps forward and starts twirling another knife.
“Where’s Iris? Did she send you to fetch me?” Aaron says.
Vaughn mutters something under his breath.
“Or am I barking up the wrong tree?”
Aaron laughs.
“See, that one’s a double pun, since you can also control-”
Vaughn’s eyes flash silver as he flicks a hand upward. The vines from the planter nearest to Aaron lash out and wrap tightly around his waist. Aaron slashes at the vines again, but this time they wrap around his hands too. Vaughn swings down from the balcony with one arm, keeping his other hand free to control the vines. He steps up to Aaron, his bare feet completely silent on the cobblestones, and maneuvers the vines so they hold Aaron in front of him. The vines snake up onto Aaron’s face, covering his mouth.
“See, she told me I shouldn’t get in a fight with you here,” Vaughn says. “But I really, really want to kick your ass right now…”
Vaughn bares his teeth in a smile as the vines pull Aaron still closer, “So, change of plans.”
Then Aaron head-butts him. Vaughn stumbles back and blinks, and the silver glow suddenly disappears from his eyes. The vines collapse in a heap around them, and Aaron slashes them away from the main plant with his knife before Vaughn can control them again.
It only takes a moment until Vaughn tackles him to the ground. This isn’t the first time Aaron’s tried wrestling his mentor, so he knows how strong he is. He’s never won against Vaughn before. But that was when he had to play by the rules.
As soon as he hits the ground, Aaron grabs the small, glass bottle from his belt. He shuts his eyes tight and shatters the bottle on Vaughn’s chest. Bright light fills the street, and Vaughn reels back, blinded. Aaron waits two seconds before opening his eyes, then grabs the severed vines and sets to work. He slams Vaughn into the ground face-first and starts binding his hands and feet while he’s still dazed.
Then Aaron freezes when he feels the barrel of a gun against the back of his head.
“Flash powder. Clever.”
Aaron digs his knee into Vaughn’s back, which elicits a grunt, but he raises his hands above his head in surrender. He thought Lucian was going to take care of Iris? Maybe she got to him first.
Well, it’s the closest we’ve gotten to beating them so far, so that’s something at least…
“The flash powder was my idea, actually.”
Aaron suddenly realizes that the gun is no longer there. He hesitantly looks over his shoulder… To see Lucian holding a knife across Iris’ throat.
Iris drops the gun and smiles faintly.
“My street rats told me you were three blocks over,” she admits.
“That’s because you didn’t pay them enough,” Lucian says.
Aaron slaps a hand on Vaughn’s back.
“Ha! I knew the candy would work!” he says.
Lucian rolls his eyes. “It wasn’t the candy, Aaron, I just gave them more money.”
“Are you sure? Because that one boy seemed to appreciate it-”
“You know, I would appreciate it if you would get off me,” Vaughn growls, straining against the vines.
Lucian releases Iris from his grip, and she gives him a nod. Aaron is about to release Vaughn, but Iris gives him the signal to stay put. She kneels in front of Vaughn and smiles thinly at him.
“And I would appreciate it if you actually followed my instructions, Vaughn.”
“He was asking for a beating,” Vaughn mutters.
Lucian and Aaron exchange an amused glance.
“Part of our strategy was to have Aaron piss him off so he’d fight head-on,” Lucian admits.
“And I can be very annoying when I want to,” Aaron adds.
“I think you mean always,” Lucian snorts.
Iris stares at Vaughn with utter disappointment. Aaron finds it incredibly satisfying to not be on the receiving end of that look for once. Then she signals to Aaron to release Vaughn, which he begrudgingly does. It’s not often he gets to slam his teacher’s face against the cobblestones.
Iris leaves Vaughn to disentangle himself and turns to Lucian and Aaron.
“You did well. Both of you,” she says.
Vaughn rises to his feet and wipes away the blood gushing from his nose.
“Even if you only won on a technicality,” he says, glaring at Aaron.
“Technicality?! I won that fight fair and square,” Aaron protests.
“What kind of strategy relies on terrible puns?” Vaughn growls.
Iris pinches her nose bridge.
“Apparently, the kind that works on you, Vaughn.”
Vaughn sniffs, but can’t argue with that. Iris shakes her head.
“Anyway,” she says, “You’ve officially beat Vaughn and I in a fight, so you’ll be reporting to the Priestess as soon as we get back to the Moon Temple.”
Lucian and Aaron both look surprised. It’s Lucian who speaks first:
“So soon? I… Thought we’d have more time to prepare…”
Iris starts walking back toward the Moon Temple, and the other three fall into step behind her.
“You’ll have time to celebrate your victories later, little Blades. But the Priestess intends for you to execute your first mark tomorrow. After that…” Iris pauses and looks back at them, her eyes serious. “You’ll be Luna’s Blades.”
Lucian and Aaron stand outside the door to the private, inner sanctuary. Despite growing up in the Moon Temple, learning each nook and cranny and hidden panel, Lucian had never been inside that room before. Some things were too sacred. The only people who had access to this chamber were the Priestess and, on occasion, Luna’s Blades. Even Helen hadn’t seen the inside.
Lucian holds his head high in perfect posture, waiting for the Priestess to grant them entry. Beside him, Aaron shifts on his feet uncomfortably, his shoes still squeaking from the dunk he took in the canal.
“Do you think she’ll mind if I drip canal water on her floor?” Aaron whispers.
Lucian doesn’t reply beyond a quick glance at the line of water drops his brother had left on the floor. He snaps to attention again when the door opens and the Priestess steps out. Her long, graying hair glistens from the candlelight behind her. She examines Lucian for a moment, then turns her gaze to Aaron. Her eyes land on the puddle of water at his feet, and her lip twitches.
“Lucian, enter. Aaron…” The Priestess looks Aaron in the eye, unamused. “Remain here.”
Aaron bows his head to her, unable to hide his disappointment and embarrassment.
“Yes, Priestess,” he mumbles.
Lucian doesn’t spare a glance for Aaron as he steps into the room after the Priestess.
As she closes the door behind them, Lucian takes in the room with curiosity.
So that’s what’s in here. Huh.
A large, elegant mirror stands against one wall, draped in purple cloth and surrounded by candles. On the opposite side is a large bowl on a table, with jars of silver liquid stacked neatly beside it. On the wall directly behind the Priestess, a symbol is carved into the stone wall and inlaid with pure silver: a crescent moon behind two crossed knives. Luna’s Blades. The whole place smells strongly of incense.
The Priestess picks up a folder from the table and hands it to Lucian.
“Your orders, from our Lady.”
Lucian glances briefly at the Priestess, trying to glean anything from her face that might be important, but she’s cool and poised, as usual. With his stomach turning from excitement and nervousness, Lucian flips open the folder… And sees only a single item inside. He pulls it out and examines it curiously. A pencil sketch of a man’s face. A good one, granted, but he doesn’t recognize him. Lucian flips the sketch over to see if there’s anything written on the back. Nothing.
“That’s… it?” He says, looking at the Priestess in confusion.
“Do you require more, little Blade?” she says coolly.
Lucian frowns, sliding the picture back into the folder.
“Who is he?”
“Your target.”
“I don’t get a name?”
The Priestess frowns and clasps her hands in front of herself.
“He was chosen by Lady Luna herself. That’s all you need know.”
A test of obedience, then, Lucian realizes. Iris had told him that this mission would be difficult for them. He’d thought she was talking about the skill required, but he sees now that it’s more than that. Aaron won’t take well to this…
Neither of them were accustomed to following orders blindly. Throughout their training, there was always an explanation behind every act, every menial task, clearly outlined to serve the betterment of the Moon Level. Vaughn and Iris had taught them to think critically and ask the right questions. They aren’t mindless soldiers. At least, that’s what they’d always said.
The folder feels heavy in Lucian’s hand. A face and no name. No record of crimes to indicate the man’s guilt.
What if he committed no crimes at all? Lucian wonders. Would Luna order something like that?
It’s not like he has a chance to ask her himself. From what he’s been taught of their goddess, it could go either way.
“You’re to eliminate him by twilight tomorrow,” the Priestess states. “Once you do, you’ll replace Vaughn and Iris as Luna’s new Blades.”
Lucian bows his head in acknowledgement, but his thoughts are racing. Find a man with no name and kill him in 36 hours. Ask no questions. Don’t get caught.
How are we supposed to do this?
The Priestess bows her head in return.
“Puritatem per lunae lumen,” she says.
“Puritatem per lunae lumen,” he echoes back.
These were the longest 24 hours of Aaron’s life. Since they had received their mark, neither he nor Lucian had gotten any chance to rest. Lucian had insisted that they start on the search immediately. As exhausting as it was, it had proven to be a wise decision on his part. 24 hours, and their efforts to find this man have turned up absolutely nothing.
Aaron glances up at the sky peeking between the Sun Level platforms, gauging the time based on the color. It’s a pale orange, shifting into blue. That puts them at late-morning.
12 hours left, he thinks.
They’d split up to cover more ground, but had assigned regular meeting points and times to share any information they’d found with each other. Their next meet-up would be in half an hour. They’d been depending heavily on the street rats to provide information, which was always unreliable at best. He’s followed up on half a dozen leads that all ended up being dead ends. And Aaron’s wallet is starting to feel light. Unlike Vaughn and Iris, Lucian and Aaron have yet to form solid connections with specific bands of street rats, which means they aren’t afforded the standard discounts.
We really need to make more friends, Aaron notes.
An assassin is only as good as their intel. That’s what Iris liked to say. This whole process would probably be a whole lot faster if she’d been willing to share her various connections with them. Or if they had a name to go off of.
That’s the part that Aaron doesn’t understand. For some reason, Lucian had refused to show Aaron the file that the Priestess had given him, only handing him a picture of the man’s face.
“So, who is he?” Aaron asked.
“A criminal,” Lucian replied flatly.
“What’s his name?”
“You don’t need to know that, Aaron.”
“I don’t need to- What? How am I supposed to find him if you don’t tell me his name?”
“Just… Trust me.”
And Lucian was acting strange. It’s completely unlike him to be sparse on details. “Trust me,” isn’t something he says. He’s the kind of person to do things that earn trust, not to request it blindly. And he seemed uncertain; his thoughts scattered, his plans shaky.
What did the Priestess tell him? Aaron wonders.
It isn’t easy to rattle Lucian. He always has a plan. Seeing his brother like this… It makes Aaron uneasy himself.
Maybe he’s just worried we won’t complete the mission in time…
Lucian had been on the path to becoming a Blade for much longer than Aaron had. Since he was a baby, technically. His intense drive to become one of Luna’s Blades, just for the sake of it, is something Aaron can’t quite relate to. But he does want it. Maybe not like Lucian does, but Aaron needs to become a Blade. Because the alternative is unacceptable.
I’m not going back, Aaron thinks. Whatever it takes.
Aaron pushes his thoughts aside and focuses on the task at hand. His most recent lead had taken him to the docks. One of the street rats had said the man was a foreman here, though she couldn’t remember which dock. Or at least, she couldn’t remember for the price.
Aaron looks down from his vantage point and scans the area. Because of the position of the Sun Level platforms, the docks on the Twilight River are one of the brightest sections in the Moon Level; one of the few to receive natural sunlight in spades. That makes Aaron’s job easier, since the sunlight cuts through the Moon Level’s typical mist. There’s still steam from the ships, but Aaron likes to think of that more as the Moon Level’s… Natural musk.
There’s a ship unloading its cargo at the nearest dock, and the dockworkers swarm around it like ants, carrying things to and fro. Organized chaos. Aaron pulls out his spyglass to get a closer look. He examines the faces of the workers, taking note of where they appear to be taking their orders from. Finally, he pinpoints the foreman, and… Aaron blinks.
That’s him.
Aaron consults the drawing, then finds the foreman again.
That’s definitely him.
Aaron glances at the sky and squints, roughly estimating the time. Maybe he should have bought the hag’s pocket watch. He’ll need to meet up with Lucian in 10 minutes. That gives him plenty of time to double check.
Aaron climbs down from his vantage point and approaches the docks. When he steps into the sunlight, his hair blazes like fire. He instinctively raises his hood. No good to get recognized. The sun feels hot and uncomfortable, and a part of him longs to retreat back to the shadows that have come to feel like home over the years. It’s too much like the Sun Level here. Aaron is suddenly aware of the brass tattoos on his back, hidden beneath layers of clothing and burning with memories.
Focus, Aaron.
Though Aaron’s clothes are unlike the dockworkers’ uniforms, he’s found that if you just move about a place like you belong there, people don’t usually ask questions. No one spares him a second glance as he weaves his way through the hustle and bustle of the dock. He doesn’t stop until he’s within earshot of the foreman.
At this distance, it’s easier to tell that it’s the same man from the picture. Aaron nods to himself, confident that he identified the right man. As he turns to go meet up with Lucian, he freezes when he hears a crash and a scream behind him. Aaron looks back to see one of the dockworkers’ legs pinned under a heavy crate. Someone must have dropped something.
Aaron’s first instinct is to run to help, and he takes a step toward the injured man, but he stops himself.
I can’t risk making contact with the mark, he reminds himself.
The other dockworkers scramble to help the man, and Aaron watches the foreman also join the chaos. It doesn’t take them long to free him. As they heave the crate aside, the foreman crouches down, examining the injured man’s leg.
“Can you move it?” the foreman asks.
“N-no sir,” the man says between gritted teeth.
“Broken then. You’ll have to go home until it’s healed,” the foreman says decisively. “I know a good doctor.”
“S-sir… I can’t afford to not work. My family…”
The foreman stands up straight and crosses his arms over his chest.
“I’ll cover the loss in your wages until you make a full recovery,” he says. Then he nods to one of the other workers, “Help get this man home.”
“Th-thank you, sir,” the injured man says, his shoulders slumping with relief.
Aaron watches the dockworkers return to their normal rhythm as the foreman returns to shouting out instructions. Aaron hovers there for a moment, the certainty he felt just a minute ago suddenly gone.
“That’s him,” Lucian confirms, peering through his spyglass.
Aaron shifts his weight between his feet and looks down at the docks. A cloud briefly blocks out the light and casts a soft shadow on the lively scene.
“Are you sure?” Aaron asks. “I don’t know, maybe… Maybe he has an identical twin or something.”
Lucian frowns and lowers the spyglass.
“What do you mean?” he asks.
Aaron sits down, dangling his feet over the edge of the building they’re perched on.
“He just… Seems like a good person,” he says, examining the worn sections of his gloves.
Lucian looks through the spyglass again.
“He has the exact same mole under his left eye,” he says after a moment.
Aaron’s brow furrows.
“What did you say his crime was again?” he asks.
Lucian doesn’t answer. Aaron looks up at him with concern.
“Lucian?”
Lucian turns to put away the spyglass. His voice is soft in response.
“He was siphoning money out of the workers’ wages.”
Aaron looks down at the docks again, confusion and doubt pulling at every corner of his mind. Lucian slings their supply pack over his shoulder and looks up at the sky, checking the color.
“We’ll follow him home when his shift ends and finish the job there,” Lucian says. “Should be just before twilight.”
Aaron kicks his feet, letting his boots knock against the brick wall beneath him.
“Alright…”
From an opposing rooftop, Lucian watches their target enter an apartment building, and, a few moments later, Aaron slips into the building behind him. The apartments here are crumbling along the edges, vines rooting themselves into the plaster and breaking it apart to reveal gray brick beneath. The windows are small, but not barred. The nearest street lamp is shattered, leaving the entrance in hazy darkness. The lamps here are still gas-operated. House Fulgur had promised the people of the Moon Level years ago that they would install electric lights on every street, but that has yet to happen in the poorer districts. On the plus side, it means he doesn’t have to worry about the wires strung across the street obstructing his view.
Lucian kneels down and grabs the rifle that’s slung across his back. He examines the slide and loads a bullet into the chamber.
Should find myself a better model eventually, he thinks distantly.
He’d heard about a newer rifle that was starting to be issued to House Cassis, one that could be disassembled and reassembled in 60 seconds. It’s pretty much impossible to hide Lucian’s current rifle, and it has a tendency to draw attention in certain districts. But if he could carry it in smaller parts, he wouldn’t have to worry about that anymore.
Lucian mounts the scope, checking that it’s properly aligned, before setting his rifle aside and looking at the apartments again.
The man’s a foreman. This isn’t the poorest district in the Moon Level, but Lucian would have thought a man in his position could afford someplace a little nicer for himself.
I should have picked a different lie to tell Aaron.
He’d said the foreman was siphoning money because, at the time, that seemed like a plausible scenario. Corrupt and greedy supervisors were everywhere in the Moon Level, especially in places like the docks or the factories, the ones under control of the noble houses. But given the humble state of his dwelling, this man appears to be an exception. Whatever crime he’s committed, it’s not for financial benefit.
If he’s committed any crime at all…
Lucian can’t get the thought out of his head.
I’m about to kill an innocent man.
That seems more and more likely the more he sees of this individual’s life. They’d observed him for a number of hours as they waited for his shift to end. Lucian has met all kinds of wicked people in Auroris, he knows what they look like. A certain movement in their steps. An empty look in their eyes. Things that can’t be explained or taught, but that Lucian could always detect. This man had none of that.
Aaron had begun to grow that sense too, which is probably why he’d asked Lucian what the crimes were. Lucian’s lie will likely become transparent to him as soon as he starts really thinking about it. But Lucian knows that Aaron could never bring himself to kill an innocent. Not after what House Cassis put him through. Aaron will make a good Blade, and he knows how well they work together. Lucian wouldn’t want anyone else to be watching his back. But Aaron has the strongest moral compass of anyone he knows. If Aaron understands the true nature of this mission, it could go one of two ways: either he goes against his conscience, forever tainted, or he leaves the Moon Temple entirely, refusing to become a Blade. So Lucian lied. If Aaron doesn’t know, he doesn’t have to make that choice. Lucian can live with the stain on his conscience. Aaron can’t.
Lucian hears movement behind him, and he glances back. Aaron climbs up onto the roof and crouches down beside him.
“Third floor, second window to the left,” he says, pointing it out.
Aaron’s voice sounds different. Distant. Detached. Lucian watches his face, reading what he finds there. He’s nervous. And he’s questioning.
Lucian and Aaron are five years apart, but with the way Aaron often acts, Lucian usually feels that it’s more like ten. He’s used to being the responsible and mature one while Aaron goofs off and makes everyone laugh. Aaron is 17 and behaves like he’s 12. But at this moment, the gap isn’t so large. Looking at him now, Lucian’s reminded of that.
Lucian picks up his rifle and props it on the lip of the roof, using his knee to support it better. He nestles it into his shoulder as he gets into position.
Lying to him was the right choice, he decides.
Lucian directs his rifle toward the window Aaron indicated and peers through the scope. A light flickers on inside, and a figure appears in view. A woman. She’s talking to someone. Then their mark steps into the room and wraps his arms around her, planting a kiss on her lips. They both smile, and glance down at something at their feet. Then the man bends down and hoists up a little girl in his arms, spinning her around. Lucian can practically hear the shriek of joy spring from her lips. She couldn’t be older than five.
“Do you see him?” Aaron asks.
Lucian doesn’t answer as the family leaves the room again. A thought stirs in the back of his mind, as thin and fragile as the glass of the window:
I’ve never taken a life before.
The man steps back into the room alone, his expression one of contentment. Maybe he forgot something. Lucian takes a breath and holds it, steadying the rifle.
The trigger offers surprisingly little resistance.
Beneath the twilight sky, the walk back to the Moon Temple occurs in somber silence. Neither Lucian nor Aaron can bring themselves to speak of what they have just done. Yet, small talk seems inappropriate. Perhaps it’s the look on their faces, or maybe it’s just a sense beyond description, but the people of the Moon Level give them a wide berth. Aaron doesn’t yet understand why. Lucian does.
You can read Part 2 of "Honing the Blades" right here!
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