The melodious tunes of birds and hawking of street peddlers created a cacophony of noise as the sun rose from the east. As it climbed higher, the sun's rays burst through a decrepit window, revealing a wan teenager flailing in his sleep. Sweat clung to him like a babe to its mother's teat.

Suddenly, Mer bolted upright and began violently coughing. Copious quantities of black sludge flew from the boy's mouth, soiling the fresh linen.

'Fuck you; it's getting worse.'

*Hmm, so it seems.* A voice responded in a flippant tone.

‘How much longer until it’s dead?’

*Less than a month.*

‘I guess that’s some consolation.’

*Not really; it’s only downhill from here.* The voice responded in levity.

‘Mmm, thanks for the encouragement.’

Seizing his now sullied sheets and clean clothes, Mer traipsed to a nearby stream to wash. After discarding his ruined sheets into the current, the boy began his morning routine with only the briefest hesitation, plunging into the thawing spring stream. Knowing how efficient a thief the cold could be, Mer rapidly rinsed himself as his heat retreated to his core, and his veins began to freeze. Almost as quickly as it began, Mer clambered back up the bank of the stream and dressed in fresh clothes.

Rubbing his hands together to warm himself, Mer paced to the markets.

“Fresh fruit for fifteen Coprus!” “Sublime shirts for a silvus!” “Refreshing milk for a sunny day, two for one special!” “Artisan bread for twenty Coprus!”

“Oritor Sol. I’ll take a loaf of bread and some marmalade spread, please.”

“Of course. That comes to 45 coprus, my dear customer, but for you, I’ll lower the price to 35.” The tubby merchant responded with a sleazy grin.

*Bloody merchants, always trying to rip you off with a smile.*

‘Fantastic, why don’t we get annoyed at the man for doing his job; what did you expect to happen, huh? I may be the most charming man in Solbrook, but food doesn’t just grow on trees… Well, okay, I suppose it does, but that’s beside the point. Not everyone can be a freeloader like you. Everything has a price.’

*I don’t expect freebies; merchants are just incredibly skilled at pissing me off.*

‘Hmmm, food for thought, Freya… Maybe you were a merchant in your last life because you excel at pissing me off.’

*Maybe I was. I’m sure I would have been able to afford better food than some marmalade bread for my family then.* Freya replied in a gloating tone.

‘Wow, low blow.’

“45 and throw in a plum, good sir.”

“Hmmm, sure. We don’t often feel the sun’s warmth down here, so I’m feeling generous today.”

Mer handed the merchant a silvus, and the peddler rummaged through his bag and returned 55 coprus.

“Thank you. Sol Invictus.”

“Sol Invictus.”

Ignoring the rest of the cries of the street vendors, Mer ducked into a dimly lit alleyway and approached an aged, crippled man in front of a flimsy stall.

“Hey Zander, I’ll have a loaf of horsebread and some fabric, please?”

“Hmmph, sure, that’ll be 14 coprus. You’re going through a lot of fabric these days, boy. Started sewing?” Came a weak scratchy voice.

Scratching the back of his head, Mer responded, “Something like that. I’m trying to make a surprise for Ema, so could you keep this between us?”

“Sure, it’s none of my business anyway.”

Reaching into his pocket Mer pulled out 20 coprus and emptied them into the old man’s grizzled hand.

*What a waste. Instead of subsidizing old men, why don’t you buy some proper food for yourself instead of this rubbish? You’re going to drop dead before we even extract the parasite.*

‘I’m afraid my heart is simply too noble and just. To see another suffer… it wounds me so, my good friend.’

*Good deeds won’t heal the wounds you’ve inflicted.*

‘But they can prevent them from festering. The first thing to rot is always the mind.’

“Keep the change, old timer. You’ll need it for your grandson. I heard he got into engineering school. He’s a bright kid, so I’m sure he’ll do well.”

“Yeah, it’s not cheap, but it’ll be worth it. It’s one of the only things this damn empire’s done well. Thank you, Mer.”

“No, thank you for looking after my sister for the past few years, Mr. Smith. I must be off, but take care.”

Still early in the morning, Mer made his way back to his humble home. After making his bed, he left the fresh bread and marmalade on the rickety dining room table.

Dear Ema,

I already had breakfast in the market, but I left fresh bread for you on the table. My shift isn’t too long today, so I should be back for dinner. Have a wonderful day.

- Lots of Love Mer

Finishing his note with a flourish, Mer quietly closed the door and made his way from the squalor of the south’s muddied roads to the pristine cobbled streets of the merchant district in the northeast of the city. Along the way, he chewed on the stale horsebread purchased from Zander.

Arriving at Starus Street’s communal park, Mer sat on a quiet bench shaded beneath a weeping willow. Then, reaching into his pocket, Mer pulled out today’s newspaper from an envelope and began to quietly read.

Target: Sasha Ivanin

Age: 68

Occupation: Widow and heiress to Ivanin’s Emporium

Occupancy: 34 Starus Street, Marcator district, three-story limestone building, 8 frontward and 9 backward facing windows, front and back door, large back garden.

Family:

Husband: Demitri Ivanin - Merchant - Deceased Son: Udcha Ivanin - Merchant & Cultivator - Deceased Pet: Wolf Owl - Sova - Age: ~3

Habits:

Sasha rarely leaves home. Sasha’s Business affairs are managed by her butler and Ivanin’s Emporium's primary shareholders. Sasha spends most of her time cultivating her garden. Sasha goes on a walk in the communal gardens most mornings. Sasha usually shops for food on Quaday and Ocday afternoons at Puchev’s grocers. Sasha goes to a social gathering every Friday at Smiling Salon.

Objective: Assassinate

Date of Assignment: 4/2/2/1859

Deadline: 6 days - 1/3/2/1859

Finishing rereading the encrypted message, Mer stared across the street towards a lavish three-story estate. Its distinguished stones were speckled with beautiful draping ivory, and its windows burst with resplendent colors from various captivating flowers. From the top rightmost window, an old woman could be seen quietly watering her plants.

By the time Mer confirmed the information provided by the organization and surveyed the scene, the sun was again blotted by the city's smog.

“It was such a pretty day today, Sova, don’t you think?”

With unexpected firmness for her age, an old woman held a writhing feline in her hand.

“It’s such a pity that our emperor, our god, who holds supposed dominion over the sun, cannot grace us with his warmth more often. Yet I’m thankful that he did today. Mittens got to see the sun one last time, hmmm, and I guess so too, did I.”

Looking into the cat's terrified eyes, the old woman casually tossed the feline to her right. The sicking crunch of flesh and bone followed as a raven beak crushed the orange creature into a bloody pulp.

Turning her gaze to an old willow tree, the old woman watched a young man tuck a newspaper into his jacket and walk away.

“I wonder what his story is, Sova. For a young man to bear such a heavy burden, to have such sad eyes.”

As the northern city's enchanting townhouses and magicarridges transformed into their horse-drawn counterparts and sewage-laddled alleys, Mer knew he was almost home. Tomorrow was going to be another long night, but for now, he could relax.