James groaned at the mess on the floor; a mess of limbs and flesh of a man he once knew. The smell reached up and clung to him like the claws of a ghost.

ㅤ“That’s the third one this month,” he muttered, carefully stepping back so his boots wouldn’t soil.

ㅤJames’ middlemen hardly had long lifespans. Working as a buffer between a client and an assassin didn’t sing about safety. He’d stopped being surprised when they showed up dead but this one was a particularly gruesome sight.

ㅤ“I’m sorry, what did you say?” the bar’s owner asked.

ㅤJames waved him off. “When did he arrive?”

ㅤ“Only a few hours or so ago. I didn’t let anyone else through the back in the meantime, just as you asked.” The owner rubbed the back of his neck nervously, his brown leathery hair clumping underneath his fingers. “I don’t ask what kind of business you run, but this such a mess, Jay. How am I supposed to clean all this up?”

ㅤHuffing once in annoyance, James clasped the owner’s shoulder. “I pay you enough that it’s not my problem. Find a cleaner of some sort.”

ㅤThe owner scoffed in response.

ㅤJames no longer had any business here now that his middleman was dead, and there were so many different people who could’ve been responsible that James hadn’t bothered trying to summon a name.

ㅤ“I’ll see myself out.”

ㅤ“I’m sorry about your loss!” the owner called after him.

ㅤThe only thing James had lost was time and money but one couldn’t have funerals for those things.

ㅤ“What a hassle, huh, Eris?”

ㅤThe familiar hilt of his sword warmed his hand, his words evaporating into vapour outside. The chilly air bit at the tips of his ears.

ㅤSuch a dangerous part of town was always gloomy and quiet, with people keeping their heads down and voices quiet as they navigated their feet over the uneven cobbles. The residents knew better than to take good looks at people’s faces—which was good for him.

ㅤ“Why aren’t you replying?” he asked, a smile taking root. “Are you sulking?”

ㅤStill no response, James looked down to his sword in confusion. Its shiny golden guard glinted in a ray of light despite the buildup of dirt and the decaying rags that hugged its sheath.

ㅤ“…You’re not usually this quiet.”

ㅤHaving decided she was in a bad mood, he made his way through the winding roads, scouting the area, folding into the crowds like a second skin.

ㅤ“I guess we’ve got some time to kill, ey? We’ve got an hour before we meet our next middleman. Hopefully a live one this time.”

ㅤDeath had become such a normal part of life that, to James, it was as light as air. People lived, people died, Jay’s job was to just speed up the process. However, despite the hypocrisy, James did believe in right and wrong. His morals were twisted but they weren’t non-existent.

ㅤHe hadn’t reached the mouth of the alleys before the bustle and music of the festival thrummed through the air. The collective drumming had been pounding all day. Nearby roofs and windows rattled. Squeals of delight dominated excited chatter as the common people celebrated.

ㅤIt was a flurry of colour, people trying to dress up in golds and reds, which tended to look more like off-yellow and brown. The only real red he’d seen today was on the floor of the bar.

ㅤMerging into the excitement, he watched as sellers handed out sketches of the deceased royal family; kids running to collect all three to show their mums and dads. Freshly cooked food and smoke permeated the air, staving off the chill.

ㅤThe first time this festival had been held, the mood had been gloomier as people mourned the dead Ankaid King Leonardo and his family. But with each year, it became more of a celebration to the sole survivor, King Fabian.

ㅤIt was a detestable display of propaganda built upon the backs of the dead. And despite his distaste, James still somehow ended up at the festival each year no matter where he was. Even in territories held by the other two kings of Theos and Druteius, this event was celebrated rigorously.

ㅤCommoners would never consider it but there was definitely more than one family that died that day. The people complained that nobles disregarded them, but they were guilty of inflicting themselves with the same crime too.

ㅤStepping to the side, James watched people pass for a moment, soaking in the joy bred from a day where the poor could take the day off and enjoy themselves. At least they were having fun.

ㅤA particularly sharp voice caught his attention at a stall opposite him.

ㅤHe quickly but carefully pulled up his hood to shelter his face and tucked Eris out of view.

ㅤTalking to a merchant, two knights.

ㅤThe reason he hadn’t noticed them as quickly as he should’ve was because of their uniform colouring. A particularly striking red fan sat on the crest holder of their brass helmets, accompanied with blood red capes falling over their shoulders. The gold details of a lion on the sides of the galea made it strikingly obvious they didn’t belong here.

ㅤJames slowly backed away, hoping not to arouse their attention. This was Druteius territory, and Druteius knights were always dressed in blue. Red meant that these were knights of the Ankaid royal house, the very same one that was being celebrated today.

ㅤRather than gawk in the open, he retreated back into the alleys. Whilst it was not unheard of for Ankaid knights to be in other territories during the festival, it certainly wasn’t common and this city was far away from any border. To get here, these knights must have travelled a very long way for a very specific purpose.

ㅤThinking of the gore of the bar, his middleman painting the floor and staining the ceiling, James could only hope their presence had nothing to do with him.

ㅤWhilst he doubted they were useless, he didn’t observe them enough to know for sure. And, if they were particularly sharp, they might notice him if he followed. It was best to avoid them entirely.

ㅤHe got the sense that Eris agreed with him.

ㅤHe would remain vigilant and flee this city as soon as he finished his next job. He’d survived this long not because he was brave or particularly strong, but because he knew when it was time to step back.

ㅤThis was one of those times.

ㅤWith one last glance to that sickening festival, he buried those bad feelings deep, and made his way to his next appointment.