The streets of Anheim were especially busy today, which was unusual for the middle of the week. Aril walked with Noxe, strolling through the crowds. Noxe had some time off since Aril had indadvertedly completed his contract, and wasn’t up to take a new one yet. Still, he pondered on his own contract, put off by the conversation he’d had with Hensen the other day. He needed to relax, and so he’d decided to spend some time with Noxe in the city.
The browsed the various stands and examined merchandise through storefront windows. Noxe had purchased a new suit and boots for casual wear, thanking Aril for the money and doing his job for him. Aril rolled his eyes and shrugged it off. He was too lost in thought to care about Noxe’s teasing. The sounds of the crowds numbed his hearing anyways, making it that much harder to hear him.
Could a man be bad if they’ve done only good things? The question stirred in his mind. He had missed it before, but there had been worry, concern, in his voice when he asked that. Why had Hensen proposed the question, and what was he hiding? He wanted to discuss it with the master, but he wouldn’t care. The master would simply tell him to do his job and stop fretting on such meaningless things. Were they really so meaningless, though? He had always believed that the guild was founded on the idea of swift justice, that the ideas and beliefs the had sparked the will inside him to kill had been based around the greater good, that the ends justified the means. Was he wrong to think this way? Was all of this really about money?
Sure, even he couldn’t argue with his paycheque, and if it had not been for the guild he would be another homeless street urchin. Perhaps, even, dead somewhere in an ally way with a knife in his own back, the work of someone he was now. The thought caused him to shiver in discomfort. He did his job and he knew how he felt about it, but did no one else in the guild think and feel the same way? He’d never thought to ask anyone until now.
Aril looked at Noxe, who had been distracted by a pretty woman passing by. His gaze locked to her figure, an animalistic hunger in his eyes and a smirk on his face. Soon, she disappeared into the sea of people, and he turned back to Aril, elbowing him with a laugh as if to say “What a looker, eh?”. Aril laughed too, albeit a bit forced. He wasn’t exactly in the mood to joke around with Noxe today, but he played along anyways. Noxe wouldn’t understand the way Aril felt about all this, he never did. Their views were just too different on their line of work, even with their friendly rivalry.
For Noxe, it was about the glamour. To him, the idea of being a kill in the night was a grand fantasy. Being the plots for many stories Noxe had told Aril about, he could understand why Noxe had dreamt of it as a child. The idea of death didn’t phase him, not even after his first kill. Aril remembered it clearly, they day they’d both been initiated; they’d been told to kill two lower drug dealers with small bounties placed. Too easy for regular members, perfect for initiates. Aril had been disturbed by it for the longest time, watching the man bleed out from the wound inflicted by his dagger and die in the dirty alley way, begging for his life the whole time.
He told himself over and over he deserved it until he believed himself, but Noxe stood there with a smile and revelled in the man’s fear. He taunted him and teased him until he killed him outright. Maybe Noxe was a little screwed up now, but they all were now. You’d have to be messed up to do this job, Aril sighed. Because of this, Noxe could never understand the way Aril felt towards his contract. He tried to let the thought go as Noxe prodded him in the shoulder, trying to get his attention.
“What?” Aril asked, snapping back to reality.
“I want to check out that store,” Noxe said, gesturing towards the store on the corner of the market street, “it’s new. Want to come inside with me?”
“No, I think I’ll pass this time.” Aril shook his head.
“What’s the matter, no money left?” Noxe teased, and headed off towards the store.
Aril shook his head and laughed. As he left, the smile vanished from his face, back to a look of concern and discontent. This was becoming too much for him, too much to keep thinking about it. If he didn’t kill Hensen, he might never become an elite, and may even be excommunicated from the guild. If he did kill him, he may never be able to forgive himself, or get closure on the meaning behind the contract. However, what worried him more and more each passing day were the masters words. Time was running out, but until what? What would happen if he let this sit any longer? What did-
Aril blinked, nearly missing it. Someone on the rooftops across the street, looking down in his direction. At him? A shiver went down his spine. Another two on adjacent rooftops, also looking this way. He had a bad feeling about this, but he was far more clever than these fools. He turned his head down and before the rooftop watchers realized it, Aril had disappeared into the crowd.
