Chapter 1
The air was cold on Beckett’s face as he looks out at the frozen water. It was mid winter now, the lake icy solid but Beck barely felt the chill that came along with it. Dressed in a heavy cloak, hood skewing his face from view, he knew he was safe here. His complexion, a usually frosted white, was now tinged pink from the wind yet he didn’t mind. Winter was always his favorite season; it was familiar, safe and provided the sort of numbness he craved.
The woods were otherwise still; the snow had stopped an hour before and now hung off the pine branches thickly, coating his boots and bathing his cloak in white. Beckett brushes the snow from his shoulders with thin, stiff fingers but freezes when he hears the snap of nearby branches along with the hurried stumble of footsteps. He scans the area with cautious eyes, fae sight allowing him to finally catch the source of the sound; a pair of humans, one seemingly running for his life while the other followed close behind holding a sheath of arrows and a bow.
Beckett sinks further into the shadows, simply watching and witnesses the second boy catch up to the first, trading the bow for an impressive looking knife and lodges it deep in the victim’s sternum. Beck watches with wide eyes as crimson blood paints the blinding white snow and stumbles backward. He could protect himself, he knew that. Beckett was much stronger than this human was but... he couldn’t help but be paralyzed by fear.
He seemed so powerful and it kept Beck rooted to the spot. Beckett watches as the victim falls dead and bloody to the ground, the assassin wiping their blood on his tunic pants and only then does he take the time to flee. He doesn’t look back, heart pounding as he goes, freezing wind whipping in his face and wetting his eyes. It stung his cheeks and bit at the skin exposed behind his cloak, trees passing by in a blur, patchworks of colour and when Beck makes it back home, rosy cheeked and shaky, he shuts the door behind him with a heavy click and lets off a sigh of relief.
Reese slips the knife back into its holster with stiff fingers and wipes his hands on his pants. Blood had already begun to crust under his fingernails and embed into his cuticles and despite having been doing this for years--killing for pay--the clean up was always his least favorite part. He couldn’t exactly say any of it was his favorite part. This was simply what Reese had to do in order to survive these harsh circumstances.
With a sigh, Reese beheads the victim, a thief who had stolen from the High Lord of the Spring Court, and shoves it into a knapsack before getting rid of the rest of the body and finding his way back to the Court. It wasn’t often that Reese associated with faeries but the High Fae paid incredibly well and with it being the dead of winter, food was scarce and becoming incredibly expensive.
The animals trekked farther into Prythian than Reese dared go. He was confident in his ability to defend himself but he wasn’t sure he could take on whatever creatures lurked deep in the woods. He had heard stories of the sort of creatures that hid in the shadows and Reese shudders as he continues his walk back to the Spring Court. He would have to travel through the heart of Prythian, something he had avoided when he had tracked down the thief, and he grimaces as he adjusts his knapsack, continuing on. The only sound was that of his boots crunching on fresh snow and Reese hoped to keep it that way.
Once nightfall had finally made an appearance, Reese takes shelter in a nearby cave, throwing the sack carelessly to the far corner and starts a fire. The temperature would drop considerably and Reese knew he would be dead by morning if he didn’t feed the fire until then. The nights after the assassinations were always the worst for Reese. He didn’t have an objective any longer. There was no thrill of the chase, simply the route back to collect his pay.
Starting the fire had been easy; doing so had never been something Reese struggled with and with a sigh, he leaves the warmth of the cave to cover the entrance with fallen pine branches, hiding his shelter from view. He wasn’t sure what sort of things were on the prowl later at night and wasn’t ready to find out. Human or otherwise, it would be easy to attack Reese while he slept.
When he was finally satisfied with his work, Reese heads back into the cave and edges toward the fire, warming his hands and face which were numb with cold. His stomach growled, hunger setting deep in his gut and he grits his teeth as he bunkered down for the night. He would worry about food in the morning after he made it to the Spring Court. The pay he would be given would be well enough to feed him for weeks. The gold he received was the main motivation for the occupation he chose; there was no inner turmoil, no burning desire for revenge. Reese simply killed to survive.
In a way, he found a sort of beauty in it.
