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This story is rated 'spicy' and may contain racy or violent material.
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Most little girls played at pretend weddings. Depending on their parents, or which culture they were studying in first form, they would dress up their dolls in white or blue or green or red, and use a stuffed animal for the groom, and mash together all the cultural idiosyncrasies into one overblown wedding ceremony with pretend soup and false vows and counter-clockwise dancing and scattering of ashes and hunts for pearls.
Jakal was not like most little girls; she didn't often play at all, and she never thought she'd have a wedding of her own.
The first wedding she attended was traditional Mruuna. She watched behind expressionless eyes as the happy red-clad couple stepped to the drums, and was disappointed by how little the blood showed on the bride's dress when her throat was slit, later, in the private room that the couple was lured into. She was still in training then, tailing a senior assassin, and observing technique. They mingled with the guests afterwards - it was a very, very large wedding, and a few more guests would not be questioned. No one wondered where the bride and groom had gone, and Jakal's job had been to blend in and practice being invisible.
The girl noticed her anyway. "It was so beautiful," the stranger sighed, smiling at Jakal. "I've never been to a Mruuna wedding, have you?"
Jakal clutched her cup and tried not to be obvious about looking around for her mentor. "No," she said shortly.
"I was at an Ibabesh wedding once," the girl continued. "The bride was all in white, and the groom was all in blue. They tied a scarf around each wrist so they were connected through the entire ceremony. It lasted a whole day!"
"Must have been hard to go to the necessaries," Jakal said brusquely. She thought about how blood would look against a pure white dress, and liked the image.
To her surprise, the girl dissolved into laughter. "You are so funny!" she said. "To say a thing like that!"
Jakal wondered if she would get points off of her evaluation for being funny. Perhaps it would count in her favor - she was trying to blend in, and jokes and laughter seemed to be normal for this kind of gathering. She moved her face into a smile and gave a chuckle that didn't sound too forced to her own ears.
"I'm Araida," the girl said, extending a hand in polite greeting. Jakal tentatively touched her fingertips in reply, and they both touched them back to their own collarbones.
"I'm Jakal," she replied out of courtesy. She didn't think that was actually her name, but it was the name she used the most.
"Are you from here?" Araida asked.
Jakal decided that the girl was a few years younger than she was - she had the same wavy, dark blonde hair and deep brown eyes that Jakal herself had, and the same high cheekbones. "No." She reminded herself not to be so short. "I'm from Faarar."
Araida's eyes widened. "Oh! I've always wanted to go to Faarar!" she clutched at Jakal's arm with excitement, and Jakal reminded herself not to flinch as she searched for an appropriate reply. She knew seven ways to kill a man who was stronger than she was with no weapons, but she floundered hopelessly at conversation.
"Do you write letters?" Araida asked. "I have a letter-friend in Tifirf. I would love to have a letter-friend in Faarar. You can tell me about the ruins and the factories." She dug into her license case and pulled out an address card.
"I... can write," Jakal said, accepting the card a little reluctantly. She wasn't sure she would be allowed to.
Araida handed Jakal a small piece of cheese on a bit of toasted spicy bread. "Try these together, they are wonderful. Do you know what you want to study in your next form? You're still in third form, right?"
Jakal nodded. She didn't study in the Empire school system, but her false license said she was in third form. "I don't know," she said. "Maybe jewelry-making?"
"Oo, you want to go into a guild." Araida accepted that without hesitation or judgment. "That would be wonderful. I like to make things, but I want to study in the cultural school. I plan to be a science leader and start social reforms. My letter-friend in Tifirf wants to study genetics and go into the biology school. You have to write and tell me all about the guild when you get in!"
There was something fascinating about her face that Jakal couldn't put her finger on. Maybe it was the animation in her eyes. She made a non-committal noise - there were many things she wasn't permitted to do, and she wasn't sure if writing letters would be one of those. She was saved having to say more by a scream - their work had been discovered. Araida was swept away from her in the crowd, and her mentor appeared at her elbow.
"Our cue," the older woman said with a toothy smile.
Once they were safely away, Jakal showed the address card to her mentor. It had several flowers along the border, and Araida's name was in fancy print. "She wants me to write letters," Jakal said. "May I?"
The mentor nodded. "I'll put in a formal request," she said. "I don't see why it would be a problem. It can be very useful to have out-of-guild contacts in every town. You did well."
Jakal walked a little straighter, proud. "Thank you," she said politely.
"Did you have any questions?"
Jakal considered. "Will we have a chance to do an Ibabesh wedding?" She still liked the picture of red blood against a white dress.
The mentor laughed. "Maybe someday." Here is a short excerpt to whet your appetite:The first wedding she attended was traditional Mruuna. She watched behind expressionless eyes as the happy red-clad couple stepped to the drums, and was disappointed by how little the blood showed on the bride's dress when her throat was slit, later, in the private room that the couple was lured into. She was still in training then, tailing a senior assassin, and observing technique. They mingled with the guests afterwards - it was a very, very large wedding, and a few more guests would not be questioned. No one wondered where the bride and groom had gone, and Jakal's job had been to blend in and practice being invisible.
The girl noticed her anyway. "It was so beautiful," the stranger sighed, smiling at Jakal. "I've never been to a Mruuna wedding, have you?" Author's NotesA Muse Fusion story, prompted by Lorna Cowie! |
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