Drowning (Kaz Brekker)

xv - Alight

SHE WAS ALIGHT. Alight with nerves and excitement, anticipation and pure, wild joy. This was what she knew, what she could do with her eyes closed and her hands bound behind her back. What she'd been bred for.

No matter the circumstances under which she'd aquired such skill, nothing could take away the ease of this, the love of a job, of purpose. She was an arrow aimed, a knife, a bullet, waiting to be sent hurtling through the air, reeking retribution in her wake.

She was alight, a burning ball of destruction, everything her mother had moulded her to be, everything that mother would come to fear.

She left the hotel at dawn with the rest of the Crows, dispersing throughout the city to fulfil their parts of the plan. Asra didn't head straight to the Church of Barter, instead she headed to the Jiudian hotel, the Shu embassy in the government district.

It was a cheap shot but their people knew no honour, only victory. Asra made her way along the roofs, running across the tiled roofs and the quiet streets, unbothered and unseen. She'd found herself a coat, the deep black of a respectable merch and, of course, the shadows she needed to exploit.

The sun was just peeking above the sea when Asra jumped down to a balcony on the Jiudian, all decked out in red fabric and gold embellishment, typical of their country's fashion. It was too early for anyone to be awake, and Asra kept it that way as she picked the lock on a balcony door and slipped inside. She went past the softly snoring dignitaries, avoided dozing guards at their door, searching, searching... where the hell is he?

There.

Asra moved silently, golden sunlight pouring in through the slightly open curtains as she picked the lock to the door marked Yiban De in swirling gold lettering. General.

Asra closed the door softly behind her, drawing a delicate but sturdy blade from her belt. She reached the edge of his bed, standing on the chest set at the foot of it, unable to stop the way it creaked under her weight.

His eyes flew open in a second, hand flying for the gun placed on his bedside table. Damnit. Asra lunged, grabbing his arm and twisting it away from the table, falling awkwardly to the floor and bringing him down with her. They rolled, a tangle of arms and legs and wild blows. The knife was yanked from Asra's hand and she watched, a hand tight around her throat as he opened his mouth to shout.

"Sorry." Asra muttered in Shu as she shot up a hand towards his throat. The general collasped, coughing and gasping, hands on his throat as he lay on his back. Asra snatched up her blade and sat up in one quick movement, pushing his arms down and pinning them with her knees, one hand placed over his mouth, the other holding a knife to his throat. "Isamu. Isamu! It's me. The pup."

She watched the emotion in his golden eyes. Fear gave way to confusion, then realisation, then fear once more. He bagn to thrash, and the general was about double her age, weight, and experience, not to mention adrenaline and the fact he likely had a small army at his disposal scattered throughout the rest of the building. Asra pressed the knife further to against his throat.

"I'm not here to kill you." She said in slow, soft perfect Shu. "I need answers. I'm going to remove my hand now, and if you even try to scream, I'll kill you. Okay?"

General Isamu nodded, and Asra slowly removed her hands. He gasped, still coughing slightly, golden eyes locked on her and long, dark hair splayed about his head against the ground. He was shirtless, corded body littered with scars from his years working up the Shu military. As a nameless, as the prodigal daughter, she'd had been well-aquainted with the majority of the world's higher ups. This man had known her since she was six.