This is my fifth flash fic featuring Zento the Mercenary. You can find the other four via here.
Zento sighed far louder than
he needed to. “We were instructed to
maim the Senator, not kill. Pay
attention to your objectives.”
The fresh-faced man in
old-fashioned Kevlar who Zento addressed frowned. “Yes, sir.”
“Now repeat our instructions
back to me again.” Zento paid close
attention to his footing as he stalked through a downhill slope coated in foliage. A manor appeared at the top of the next rise.
“Wait in the Senator’s garden
for him to come outside then maim him.”
“Good enough. We’re almost there.” Zento inspected his crossbow one last
time. Everything was in order. A pair of quarrels stuck out of the quiver on
Quintiffer flowers dotted the
hillside. Their yellow petals rose in
their centers, forcing them into an odd cone-like shape that seemed to point
upward at the pale blue sky. A sweet
aroma wafted all around.
“Were you nervous on your
first mission, sir?” The younger man
Zento’s face went blank for a
moment. “My father was a Grand-General
of the Verion Army. Do you expect the
son of such a hero to get nervous on his first mission as a mercenary?”
The younger man blushed. “No, I suppose not.”
“Of course I was nervous,”
Zento began. “My father expected me to
become a General in the Army, but I ran off and became a freelance. If I failed my first mission, I would either
be dead or dishonored so heavily that I wished I was.”
They climbed past a buriba
tree in silence. The manor’s nearest
wall was almost fully visible.
“Can you take the first shot,
please?” The younger man swallowed hard.
Zento sighed again. “Underlings…”