I slowly slid the pick into the lock and after just a few seconds felt the satisfying click of the door being released from its wooden frame. I swiftly stepped in and quietly relocked the door behind me. It had been awhile since I had received a contract and even longer since I had gotten one this easy.
It was earlier today that Kiseena gave me the location of a dead drop. It had been ages since I had gotten anything and that familiar ache of vulnerability and lack of control had started pressing on me again. I displaced my feelings for the time being and accepted the contract, after having receiving the dead drop and talking to the client. A Breton farmer by the name of Arnand was my target. He had no living relatives, never married or had children, but was in close with the captain of the guard of Riften who visited Arnand 1-2 times a week, and because this was mainly Thieves Guild territory my client was to disinclined to get his own hands dirty. Apparently the client had wanted Arnand's land to turn it into some sort of business of his own. Arnand wouldn't give it up, so the client called us.
It was a basic two story home where the second floor consisted of nothing but a bedroom, and the first floor a kitchen and living area. In and out and no one would even know I was here.
After relocking the door I knelt in a low crouch and drew my dagger. Slowly I moved to the stairs and before even stepping on them, grabbed at a few of the lower steps to see if they squeaked, and without surprise they did.
"Guess I'm not going that way up," I whispered to myself.
Thankfully the floor to the upper level was with in arms reach if I jumped for it. I stood just next to one of the pillars holding up the floor and jumped straight up grabbing the floor and pulling myself up with only the slightest squeak of a floorboard. The door to the bedroom being right in front of me was wide open and beyond it the slight snoring of Arnand as he slept peacefully in his bed. Dagger still in hand, I crept slowly around the side of the room most in shadows, until I was standing over this old farmer. I put my hand over his snoring mouth and nose, lightly at first, but then harder down as I felt him start to wake. His eyes shot open darting around at what woke him, but as he realized what was going on, and after seeing my cloaked face, he began to scream into my hand.
"Sithis wants you, Arnand," I spoke calmly.
He tried to scream louder, but my hand still muffled the sounds. He started to move as if to get up, to get away, to do something about this shrouded stranger in his home, but it was too late. Almost as if in response to his movement, I felt my dagger slip into his chest with ease, like I hadn't put any force into the thrust. His movement jerked violently in no particular direction as I felt that warm, sticky, red liquid start to cover my hand. When I could no longer feel his breath on my hand covering his mouth is when my smile faded. The rush was gone. The control I felt was gone. Again I was empty, left with nothing.
I let loose the man's face, and drew my dagger from the hole I had made in his chest. I wiped the blade clean on his trousers and sheathed it. I stared at him for a minute before I realized the sun was coming up. I needed to get back to the sanctuary and collect my payment. I climbed out the window behind his bed, and dropped to a bale of hay that lay below. My horse was waiting not too far from here.
"Everything go as planned?" Kiseena said as came into the sanctuary.
"Fine. Just fine,"
"You're lying to me,"
"The guy's dead isn't he?"
She could hear the irritation in my voice.
"Okay," she said, handing me my payment, "but I worry about you."
"Yeah, I know. Thanks" I said as I headed to my quarters.
I shut the door behind me and locked it. I immediately took off my belt and armor and changed into my linens. Kiseena was the head of the sanctuary. She was a Kajiit born in their native land of Elsewyer and had been living the life of a rogue thief stuck in prison for who knows how many years. The Dark Brotherhood had been after her cellmate and had inadvertently let her free in the process, so after most of the world betraying her, she vowed her life to the Dark Brotherhood to show thanks and to get her revenge on the world that had thrown her away. To me she was more than all of that. Kiseena was the only one I would ever call mother.
My real parents gave me up at birth to the Dark Brotherhood since I was born under the sign of the Shadow. Real superstitious, my Argonian parents were. When I came to this sanctuary no one would even talk to me because I was a child. They said I was too young to become a Shadowscale. Kiseena knew my parents didn't want me to begin with so she was the one who trained me, fed me, gave me weapons and techniques.
I sat on my bed thinking about how much I knew she cared.
I know she cares, but does she understand?
That feeling of being alive, of being in control of something, anything, had fleeted to quickly this time around. I didn't know if I was ever going to feel it again, but I knew I had to, and I knew I was going to.
