Week 9: Storytelling

Image from Wikimedia Commons

"You have one year. The subject is difficult, and you are our best. Do you accept?"

The slight figure of a woman took her time answering. 

"You say he is difficult, why is that?" She queried the men sitting at the desk across from her, both of them dressed in conservative but sleek suits. 

"He's flawless. A good man, wise, just, and kind. Wouldn't hurt a fly, but protective of his own," the man on the left answered. His voice was gruff and raspy. He had done much of the talking so far, leaving the man on the right to observe.

"I don't see the problem here. Why are you after him if he's such a saint?"

The man on the right finally replied, in a soft voice, that was somehow more menacing than the man on the left.

"He knows too much. That's all you need."

The woman nodded in tense agreement. "He'll be dead in twelve months."

*****

The woman, Savitri, was one of the world's best assassins, so, naturally, no one knew who she was. She had been trained from a young age in the arts, sciences, and literature, progressing from a child prodigy to a brilliant woman in her prime. Her task was to mitigate the threat posed by Satyavan's knowledge, and ultimately, this would result in his death.

On day one of her mission, she found him. He wasn't difficult to track and didn't seem to be hiding anything. She planted herself near a fountain in the park she had followed him to, and waited to make her move. She would flirt, he would fall for her, and then the rest would be easy, which is what she thought until Satyavan met her gaze across the fountain.

Unfortunately, Savitri hadn't planned on actually liking Satyavan. Usually, she had no problem emotionally ignoring the men that crossed her path--her ambitions let her ignore any delusions of romanticism she may have, but when she had seen his face... There was electricity. More than a spark, a lightning strike, as if Zeus himself had struck where the two had been standing.

*****

Three months in. Nine to go, and Savitri, for the first time in her life, was truly happy. She was taking a walk, reflecting on how things had changed. Satyavan and she had hit it off when they first met, started dating within the week. Books were fine and science was always there, but neither were very good conversational partners, and neither were able to give you their jacket during a cold New York afterno-

"Update, Savitri." A raspy voice buzzed in her ear, via a near invisible earpiece that she used to check in with headquarters--though it was usually the other way around.

"You can't seriously expect me to give you an update every time you ask. It's been two days, at the most. Things are the same. Still working."

"Are they? I have sources saying you're looking pretty cozy." The blood drained from Savitri's face. She couldn't trust anyone. 

"Yes," she hissed, "everything is fine!"

"It had best be, or we'll find someone who can carry out the job." A click signaled the end of the call.

Everything was not fine. 

*****

Six months. Halfway. Engagement. Love, tears, ecstasy, anguish, a ring. A lie.

As she was saying yes, Savitri knew what awaited her at the end of the next six months, and her blood ran cold at the thought of it. The agents were right when they said had given her a difficult case. Difficult indeed, and tangled now. 

*****

Four months later, they were wed. Savitri had cut her hair short, leaving the characteristic long raven hair behind her, opting for red color in a becoming bob. The slow process of changing an identity, making gradual alterations in order to make them seem normal. Married life was bliss, and yet every new day Savitri marched towards her deadline, and Satyavan's doom. 

The day after the knot was tied, Savitri almost let the cat out of the bag, but caught herself in time. She hadn't checked in with the agents in weeks now, and was sure there was someone almost as good as her coming after the both of them, someone who would make the smarter decision to not fall in love with either party.

She had an idea, and as long as she could stay three steps ahead of everyone else, the idea just might work.

"Satyavan, love, how do you feel about camping?"

*****

Twelve months to the day. Exactly a calendar year, and the sun was setting, and Savitri had never been more anxious or more exhilarated. She ran ahead on the trail, leading him back to camp. They had almost made it. They were so close, and they were finally going to make it, and she would leave her life of deciet and come clean to her wonderful husb-

There was the sound of a body crumpling to the ground behind her and she whirled around and sprinted to catch him. 

A voice in her ear cut through her silent sobs with the quiet, deadly seriousness that made her shiver. 

"Until next time, Savitri."

-----

Author's Note: I based my story on the story of Savitri, but gave it a twist. In the original, Savitri is well educated and a princess, and falls in love with Satyavan, who is given a year to live due to unforseen circumstances. They marry and are generally wonderful until the two of them go to gather firewood on Satyavan's foreseen death date, and he dies. When Death comes to take Satyavan, Savitri's devotion and intelligence tricks Death into letting Satyavan live. I wondered what it would be like if Savitri was given some secret mission to kill Satyavan, but fell in love with him instead. Not my best work, but pretty good for what a really rough week it's been. I wanted to save the outsmarting death part for my storybook, so this is what I went with instead! The song credit for the week is O Children by Nick Cave and the Bad Seeds.

Devee, Sunity. Nine Ideal Indian Women. 1919