The Ice Maiden

            It smelled of vomit and beer in the old town bar. Every night most of the peasants came and drank their worries away. There was no better place to find cheap drink and w****s. At least it wasn’t watched by authorities. Nobody who wasn’t willing to die came into this place. It was a rough and dangerous town.

            The bartender picked up a half polished pint and filled it with warm beer. With a quick push, he slid it down the wood bar top towards a small group of guards. Even though the wood was splintered and stained, it was cleaner than everything else in the bar.

            Small tables littered the establishment. Light was scarce. Only a small fireplace and some hanging candles were available for the patrons. The loud conversations between guests droned each other out, leaving only a loud mess. In the corner of the room a woman sat. She hadn’t moved from her seat in in the few hours since she’d arrived, hadn’t stopped drinking.

            Her long blonde hair drooped loosely off her shoulders, eyes fixated on her drink. A long cloak covered her body, protecting her from the cold, and the stares of those nearby. The soft bubbles of the warm drink trickled to the glass and popped. She didn’t want to look away from the beverage, she wouldn’t. Problems would always arise if she looked away from her beer and made eye contact with anyone. Nobody liked to be turned town, and everyone thought they had a chance with her.

            Everyone near her was chatting with themselves about one thing or another. What they had done today, what they hadn’t done, what they want to do. It was always the same drabble with the commoners, even if they were more likely to be criminals. She didn’t know if their dreaming was sad or meaningful, she just knew that tomorrow, the day after that, or even next year they would still be here.

            “Need another drink Antana?” The bartender asked as he put in minimal effort cleaning a tankard. While not a pleasant man Lautaro was generally kind to her. His clothing was more stained than clean and his face had been beaten in badly during a fight in his younger years… but he was kind.

            “Yes.”

            Arkaley was a small town outside of El Meda by only a few miles. In comparison, the two cities couldn’t be more different. The capital was bustling with trade, important on goings from the politicians, and of course the Dominar. Joer was a powerful figure in the empire and his command over the ice elementalists gave him free reign to do as he pleased.

            Lautaro brought another drink to Antana and smiled. It was the kind of uneven smile that showed how many teeth the man was missing, ulgy and troubled. She had been stuck in this town for far too long, but she would hopefully only be here for a short while longer. If her bounty showed up she would be able to do her job and move on back to El Meda.

            Whenever a criminal stepped out of line she would grab their contract and make some money. The work suited her. She enjoyed working alone and her skills were put to good use. Other hunters from her guild would take on more dangerous missions for larger bounties but Antana was happy with the smaller contracts that people didn’t fight over. Less money meant less chance of running into someone ruthless, or an elementalist. They were the hardest to take in alive.

            The bar door swung open and two men walked in, already partially drunk. One of them looked innocent enough but the other was exactly who she’d been waiting for. After a few moments, they had ordered enough drinks to put the rest of the guests to shame and began laughing their pains away. Pulling a tiny not out of her pocket she read over the man’s description one last time to verify, then went through his dossier. Theft, arson, and rape… nothing out of the ordinary compared to her traditional targets. Cylon, born in Fatir, no surname, no known accomplices in this area. Should be an easy hit, she just wished it hadn’t taken three weeks for him to arrive. This was the only listed place he visited frequently so she had no choice.

            An hour passed, Clyon and his friend were well on their way to being under their own table. Now would be a good time to get started. With a fluid grace, she removed her cloak and placed it onto the bar stool next to her. In that moment she could feel the eyes of everyone in the building move to her. While she had hidden her figure the entire time in her prior to now it stood out among the patrons now. Her soft pale skin and long blond hair was vastly different than the typical Iciliean.

            There was very little of her that wasn’t perfect. Antana had always known that. Thin, yet fit, curvy in all the right areas. The coat she wore barely covered her shoulders and exposed most of her mid-section below her belly button. If she had wanted to not draw attention the skirt she’d chosen wouldn’t help either. While it was long and covered her legs, there was no missing its elegance and tight fit.

            A few whistles rang out almost instantly and now Clyon was focusing on her. With a smile she waved him over, almost playfully. She had to put on a good show now, play the innocent drunk women.

            “You are stunningly beautiful. Do you mind if I call you that? Beautiful?” He wasn’t wasting any time. So neither would she.

            “I’m sorry, I got a little carried away. I need to get home but I don’t think I’ll make it on my own. Would you mind walking me?”

            “Absolutely!” He gave his friend a wink and grabbed her coat for her. It was nice to see a gentleman from time to time. As they left the bar stumbling and laughing she congratulated herself on another easy bounty.