Felt Nothing (Beruka)
Prompt: Beruka raised as a ninja because Wyvern Riders just don't say assassins at all.
"Get lost, brat. I ain't afraid to kill a child."
"…"
The man and his wyvern were sitting in an alley in Windmire. The wyvern slumbered as the man leaned onto it. He was counting money.
"I said scram!"
"…"
The little girl in tattered clothing would not move, she would not even speak. She only kept staring, with her cold, blank eyes.
"You think I'm just gonna fork this over? I worked hard for this!"
"…"
He could have picked up his axe and killed her on the spot. No one would miss another street urchin. But for some reason, he didn't. For the first time, the man looked into his eyes and he saw something he hadn't noticed.
"Okay, kid… I'll make you a deal."
Potential.
"They say if you teach a man to fish, he can feed himself for the rest of his life. I'm going to teach you my work. I see a lot of myself in you, so it just wouldn't do if I let you walk into other alleyways and expect the kindness of strangers to take over."
"… Do you kill people?"
That was the first she spoke to him. The man only grinned in return.
Months had passed. The girl was quick to grasp the art of lethality. As long as she vowed to follow his orders to the letter, the man would give her a share of his dinner until she could earn it on her own. But this was only if her progress was satisfactory.
Stealth training was the first step. If one wished to assassinate, they must remain undetected. There were different ways of hitting a mark, though the man's preference was to catch the mark alone and get them with a good, clean chop. Once the girl had learned to hide in plain sight, her instructor moved on.
"The first one's always the hardest. If you can do it, then you'll go far in this business. But if you can't… then get out of my sight. I have nothing left to say to you. And remember, I'll want proof."
The girl stared at the weapon she had been given. A small, bronze dagger. She was to find another street urchin… and eliminate them. If she had any right to call herself an assassin, she needed to start somewhere. Her master still believed no one would miss another Windmire urchin, hence they would be a good practice round, for applying all that she had learned.
The girl continued staring.
"… I'll begin the mission."
"Would you do it again?"
The girl had presented her master a torn-up doll, belonging to another street child. It was bloodstained.
"… If I must."
He grinned.
"Welcome to the guild."
She had learned all that he had to teach her by then. She would either learn the rest on her own, or die. The years passed. The girl, now a woman, had found a routine:
Wake up, receive job, train, infiltrate, kill, escape, receive pay, eat, sleep
This was all the world she knew, all life had to offer.
Which was why she was taken by surprise when she had received a contract from one of the guild's underbosses, subordinates to her master.
She was to kill the very man who'd raised her.
"I taught you everything you know. Did you think I wouldn't notice you there?"
The man was all alone. His house was a mess, his dining room ramshackle, his soup frigid. He gave a dark smirk.
"I knew you had what it takes, kid."
He sighed.
"I've torn apart dozens of families in my time. But… at least I was able to do something for one person."
The tired old man met the woman's eyes for the last time.
"I've known this was coming. Go on then. It'll be my atonement."
If the woman knew anything about emotions, she'd have supposed that this would have been a sad moment. But she felt nothing. Ever since she was left alone, she had stopped feeling anything.
She made it quick.
"Excellent work, er… Belka?"
"Beruka."
The new guild boss finished giving Beruka the pay for her mark. She had learned that as assassins aged, they were seen as liabilities. They were to be killed, lest they become a threat. She briefly wondered why they had chosen her as the one to kill him, but dismissed the question as unnecessary. It would change nothing.
Beruka grew tired of this. She failed to see any exit strategies from the guild that would not also have her labeled as a liability. It appeared as if she was condemned to serving these crooks for the rest of her days. If she could feel, this would upset her.
"Here."
Beruka fed a piece of meat to an aged wyvern, in the alley. It was her master's. She saw no reason to let the dragon starve and die alone without its old master. It recognized her, so cooperation came easily.
"Hey. You're Beruka, right?"
Pause.
"Who wants to know?"
Someone had come to greet her. With a side glance, Beruka could tell her visitor was a noble of some sort. But they wore a cloak, as if wishing to hide their identity. But only a noble would be so self-conscious that they would feel the need to hide the fact that they are hiring an assassin. She would scoff if she could feel.
"I'll make this quick. If you comply, I will pay you your dragon's weight in gold. Will you hear my request?"
Beruka said nothing at first. While she could not feel emotions, she certainly felt fatigued of this empty life. But the money was too good, and it was all she knew.
"Go on."
"I need you… to kill Princess Camilla."
A/N:
The next installment of Lost in Drabbles. This time, we get Beruka's backstory.
This was the second one I'd written in my trial period to join the blog. I'd actually given it a different title, but due to a mix-up, there was no title when the main mod received it, so they gave it this name. I like theirs better.
Hopefully this doesn't contradict too many details of Beruka's past. I like to research the involved characters as I write these, so I think I have most of it down. Also I tried some weird artsy thing where Beruka isn't called by her name until she kills her master. Something about killing her mentor and finally surpassing him? I don't know, it seemed like a good idea.
I already liked the character, but writing this gave me more of an appreciation for Beruka. And this is actually one of my favorites that I've written for the blog so far.