Chapter Seven: Welcome to Silvercrest
1083 Words
The blade whispered in the dark.
Steel sang from a sheath just behind me, the sound soft but fatal. My breath locked in my chest. The fire in the crypt popped softly. I didn’t turn immediately.
I let my instincts take over.
My right foot slid back, weight shifting. My fingers grazed the edge of a broken stone on the tomb behind me. My pulse slowed. Cold. Precise.
Then—
I spun, catching the blade mid-swing with the edge of the stone.
Sparks. Impact. A grunt.
I swept the attacker’s legs before they could recover. They hit the ground hard, knife clattering. I kicked it away, stepping on their chest, finally getting a good look—
A boy. Young. Seventeen, maybe. Eyes wide with panic. Dressed in Silvercrest trainee garb.
“What are you doing here?” I hissed.
He tried to speak, but my foot pressed harder.
“Answer.”
“I—I followed you,” he choked. “I was told to.”
“By who?”
“I don’t know! A message. No name. Just said you were dangerous. Said to watch you. If I had the chance… to stop you.”
I narrowed my eyes. He was shaking. Barely trained. Definitely not an assassin.
“Where’s the note?”
He fumbled in his coat pocket and pulled out a folded piece of rough parchment. I snatched it and scanned it.
Four words.
The Luna walks again.
No seal. No signature. Just fear.
I stepped back. He didn’t run. He was too scared.
“Tell anyone you saw me here, and I will gut you in your sleep,” I said coldly. “Do you understand?”
He nodded, scrambling to his feet and bolting out of the crypt.
I stood alone, the letter burning in my fist.
Someone knew.
And they were spreading whispers.
---
By morning, I was dressed and walking with purpose through the halls of Silvercrest, the letter folded and hidden in my sleeve. I passed guards who didn’t meet my eyes and warriors who stiffened as I moved by.
The Keep was shifting.
Rumors moved faster than blades.
---
Kael summoned me to the council chamber just after dawn.
The great hall was colder than usual. Flags hung limp, the brazier half-lit. Lucille stood at the far end speaking to Elias in a low voice. Jace leaned against a column, arms crossed. Rhea sat with her eyes closed, like she was meditating or fighting off a vision.
Kael was already seated. His hands were steepled. His gaze was a storm.
I bowed.
“You’ve been active,” he said.
“I don’t like being idle.”
“Neither do spies.”
I met his eyes evenly. “Is that what you think I am?”
“I don’t think anything. I observe. And right now, the court is full of whispers. People want to know who the strange girl is who moves like a Luna.”
“She’s just a girl,” Lucille said smoothly.
Kael didn’t look away from me. “Are you?”
“I’m a stray you took in. Nothing more.”
“Then prove it.”
He gestured to a leather satchel beside his chair. Elias brought it forward and opened it, revealing scrolls, pins, maps.
“We’ve received new movement reports from the northern borders. I want you to lead a small scout team and verify the threat.”
“You’re testing me,” I said.
“I’m using every blade I have. And you’re sharp, aren’t you?”
The others watched.
I nodded once. “Fine.”
“Dax will go with you.”
Of course he would.
---
Outside, as we prepped to leave, Dax handed me a blade. His usual backup knife—short, curved, silvered along the edge.
“Didn’t bring your own?” he asked.
“Didn’t think I’d need one.”
“You always need one.”
Our fingers touched. Brief. Tense.
He hadn’t brought up the crypt. Or what I said. Or what he said.
But it hung between us like a loaded trap.
We mounted the horses and rode north.
---
The border outpost was abandoned.
No fire. No tracks. No signs of struggle—just silence.
We moved through the ruins in a triangle formation—Dax ahead, me at his flank, two others behind. A new recruit named Marek and a scarred warrior called Tyne.
As we cleared the last building, I froze.
Something pulsed beneath my feet.
Old magic.
I crouched.
There, etched into the stone beneath the leaves—faint, weathered.
A circle.
A ritual seal.
One I knew from Thalia’s scroll.
I brushed away the dirt. The lines were exact. Fresh.
They’d done something here.
Something meant to hide.
“What is it?” Dax asked, coming beside me.
“Nothing,” I said too quickly.
He frowned.
Before he could press, Marek called out.
“Something’s coming!”
We turned. From the treeline—figures.
Rogues.
But wrong.
Eyes black. Movements stiff. Reeking of rot and blood.
Dax cursed. “Back! Now!”
We formed a defense. Tyne drew his axe. I flicked my blade.
They came fast.
We fought faster.
---
Blood splashed across the grass. My body moved on memory. Every strike was a ghost’s precision. I didn’t just fight—I hunted.
When the last one dropped, I was covered in blood, panting, heart thundering.
Marek stared at me.
“You—how did you move like that?”
I turned away.
“I trained before. I just don’t remember it all.”
He didn’t believe me.
Dax looked shaken. Not because of the rogues.
Because of me.
---
We returned at dusk.
Kael met us in the war room.
“Report,” he said.
I spoke calmly. “Five rogue-corrupted. Ritual markings on the stone at the border. They weren’t random.”
He frowned. “Markings?”
I hesitated. Then nodded. “Yes. I’ll draw them for you.”
Dax watched me. I didn’t look back.
---
That night, I returned to my room.
The letter still burned in my mind.
The Luna walks again.
Someone knew.
Someone had started spreading the truth.
And they wanted me dead before anyone else found out.
I sat by the hearth, alone.
Until a knock sounded.
I opened the door slowly.
And found Kael standing there.
His eyes were distant. But burning.
“I want the truth,” he said. “Right now.”
- Writer
