Six years had passed since the war. The balance of the world had shifted—old kingdoms had fallen, and new powers had risen. But one thing had not changed: the poor were still hungry, and the rich kept growing richer.
For Zaydan, nothing had improved. He was like a shadow lost in the city. His mother's illness was worsening, and the last of his money was running out. He had to find work.
In the darkness of the night, he wandered the streets and entered the oldest tavern in the city. Inside, there were the cheerful shouts of drunkards and the sharp smell of alcohol. Zaydan moved to a corner and ordered a drink. He took a sip, his mind consumed with thoughts of finding money.
Just then, a figure emerged from the shadows and approached him. A middle-aged man, well-dressed, but with danger gleaming in his eyes.
"You look like you need money," he said with a mocking tone.
Zaydan looked him up and down. He inspired no trust.
"No. I'm not interested," he replied sharply.
The man gave a faint smile, shrugged, and turned away. But after taking a few steps, he stopped and slightly turned his head.
"If you change your mind, I'll be here tonight."
Zaydan watched him walk away. There was an uneasy feeling inside him. It was a dangerous job—he could sense it. But he needed money.
When he returned home from the tavern, he saw his mother curled up in bed. Her pale skin, her trembling hands… the illness was slowly consuming her.
"If you don't have the medicine… she won't live."
That sentence etched itself into his mind. He clenched his fists. No other option came to him.
When night fell, he returned to the tavern. The man was waiting for him at the door.
"Let's keep this short," said Zaydan, without hesitation in his eyes. "I need a thousand gold. What's the job?"
The man smiled slightly and pulled a folded paper from his pocket, handing it over.
"Assassination."
Zaydan unfolded the paper. A name and an address were written on it.
"Kill this man," the stranger said. "You'll get your money when it's done."
As the man walked away, Zaydan looked at the paper again.
Could he kill?
He didn't ask himself that question. Because there was no turning back now.
When he returned home, he sat beside his mother's bed. He took a deep breath as he watched her.
"I found a job," he said softly. "I'll bring your medicine in two days."
His mother opened her eyes with a weak smile.
Zaydan held her cold hand.
At dawn, he took his first step toward death.
In a village outside the city, a wealthy man was oppressing the people. His name was Naron. He extorted their money by threatening them with death, forcing them to live in fear and hunger.
Zaydan glanced once more at the paper in his hand. Naron's name and address were written on it. He had made his decision. When he reached the village, he stepped aside to prepare himself.
His only weapon was a lightning sword he had once bought from a drunken beggar for 200 gold. The blade was rusted, its hilt worn, but Zaydan still loved it. A name was engraved on it:
"Kagehana"
He didn't know what the name meant, but ever since he had owned it, he had felt stronger.
He looked at his target's house. A large stone mansion, surrounded by armed guards. Attacking during the day was impossible. He would have to wait for night.
Hours later, darkness fell. Using the shadows of the streets as cover, he silently opened one of the back windows and slipped inside without being seen.
He drew his dagger. His footsteps were almost inaudible. He pushed open a heavy door and entered.
Naron was asleep in his bed.
Zaydan held his breath, gripped the dagger tightly, and in a single motion plunged it into the man's heart.
Naron woke with a scream. He looked into Zaydan's eyes. Despite feeling the cold touch of death, the expression on his face… was sorrowful.
He whispered something.
"Never trust the man who sent you."
And then his soul left his body.
Zaydan stood there for a few seconds. The look in Naron's eyes had shattered something inside him that he could not mend.
Footsteps echoed from outside.
The guards!
Zaydan quickly exited the room and disappeared into the night, slipping through narrow streets.
Return to the City and the Fate of His Mother
At dawn, he returned to the city. His feet carried him back to the tavern. When he entered, he found the man sitting at the same table.
"I did the job," he said.
The man narrowed his eyes slightly and nodded. He opened a bag and placed 1,000 gold coins on the table.
"Well done," he said mockingly.
Zaydan quickly took the gold and looked him straight in the eyes.
"I'll be here in three days. If I need money… I'll find you."
The man gave a faint smile but said nothing.
Without wasting any time, Zaydan rushed to the apothecary, bought the medicine, and ran home.
He opened the door.
And his world stopped.
His mother… lay motionless on the bed.
A sword was embedded in her chest.
His eyes widened in horror, his throat tightened. With trembling hands, he rushed to her.
He held her in his arms, shaking her as if there were still hope. But… it was too late.
His eyes filled with tears, his heart tightened.
And in that moment, everything lost its meaning.