“What is it? Something wrong?” Caspian looked around nervously as though expecting to see a guard or something, but they were still alone.
Fire and Water
“You…” Kalama said through clenched teeth. “Your skin is like ice.”
“Oh! Yeah, that’s pretty normal… well, they’re typically cold, but not that cold. You alright?” Caspian curiously rubbed his hands together to see how cold they felt, but they weren’t any cooler than usual.
She gave him a weak smile. “I’ll be fine.”
“Maybe your hands are just hot by comparison?” Caspian wondered, shrugging. “I mean, I don’t often come into physical contact with people, so I wouldn’t really know.”
She smiled slightly, though drew away. Blowing slightly in her hands, she tried to call heat into them, but none would come… almost as if water had been poured over them.
Caspian looked up at the stars quietly. “It’s nice tonight. Wish I could just sit out in the open like this more often, but with my profession and all…” He sighed almost inaudibly. “I’ve been stuck doing it ever since I was twelve. If I tried to leave, my boss would have me killed.”
She glanced sideways at him. “Why don’t you just pretend that your job takes longer than it does?”
He shrugged. “I mean, I do sometimes, but they know better. I’m good at what I do, unfortunately. They know it doesn’t take several days to shoot a noble.” Caspian looked down at his hands. Those hands had taken the lives of at least a dozen people, but probably considerably more. When he tried to count he just felt terribly guilty, so he’d learned to stop counting.
“Kill more than one,” she suggested. “Or pretend that you got held up.”
“I don’t know… I don’t like killing too many people, you know? I do still feel bad about it sometimes, but it’s usually best not to think about it.” Caspian shredded some blades of grass.
“And you’re a mercenary?” Kalama thought that sounded weird, but hey, to each his own.
Caspian nodded. “Mercenary, sort of assassin… I dunno. It’s one of those jobs you can’t safely quit. You can’t really quit your job at all, huh?”
“No,” she said, “but I don’t want to.”
“Of course not. Besides being the target of assassins, you’re in a pretty prime position. Your death would be impactful. No one cares if someone like me dies.”
“I can’t tell from your tone if you’re unhappy about that or not.”
Caspian shrugged. "I mean, I guess a bit of both. It's good that no one would have to mourn or anything, but still… bit sad, isn't it? Like, no matter what I do, it doesn't really matter much in the end since no one even cares if I live or die."
Kala felt her heart go out to the mercenary, and almost went to pat his arm, then remembered what had happened before. Stupid Kala, she thought.
“It doesn’t matter that much, though… it could be worse. So, uh, how are things in the castle?”
“Boring,” she sighed. “Lord Dikon is being an ass, and is way too loyal to my mysteriously dead husband.”
“Mm… which noble did I shoot, by the way? I wasn’t asked to kill a certain one, just whichever. I think my boss is hoping for chaos…”
Kala laughed. “If you wanted chaos, you should have chosen another noble. You shot Lady Kinn, Who is fat and lazy, and very old. No one missed her, and she has a lot of enemies.”
“Damn… well, I suppose I get paid either way. He might just make me come back. Sorry about that, by the way.”
She shrugged. “It was nice. Feel free to kill anyone here any time.”
Caspian laughed weakly. “Other than you, of course. No one’s perfect, ya know, but I don’t think you deserve to die.”
“Of course I do. More than most,” She said darkly.
“Well, I’m sure that’s not true… I mean, I’m a mercenary and I didn’t want to kill you. Surely that counts for something.”
Kalama laughed, the sound light and cheerful, very different from her tone before. “It’s not you. It’s the thing I did when I was younger.”