EPISODE 10:Title:THE KNIFE BENEATH THE SMILE
841 Words
Episode 10** of **"Ashes of the Blackan"**:
# Episode 10: **The Knife Beneath the Smile**
The manor's corridors were darker than usual — the torches burned lower, the shadows deeper.
A storm brewed beyond the walls, and inside them, something colder stirred: **Rowan Vale** had arrived.
He wore the perfect face for deception — charming, handsome, unassuming. His manner was humble, his smile warm. He spoke carefully, listened well, and offered just enough truth to make his lies impossible to spot.
He introduced himself to the trainees as a newly transferred noble son, sent by distant relatives for discipline and refinement. The Maevryn High Lords confirmed his backstory without question.
And within hours, **everyone liked him**.
Everyone but Kalen.
Kalen watched Rowan from afar, every instinct alert. Something was off — too smooth, too kind, too perfect.
But Rowan never gave him an excuse. No slip, no mistake.
Even Mira seemed drawn to him — not romantically, but with a cautious curiosity. For someone hunted for her magic, Rowan’s calmness was a balm.
He didn’t stare at her like she was a weapon.
He didn’t flinch when she struggled with her control.
He offered friendship without conditions.
It was the most dangerous kind of weapon: acceptance.
Cassian, still tense from the tower ambush, was the last to warm up to Rowan — but he too eventually gave in.
The group began to repair, slowly — talking again, training again. Mira was mastering focus. Silas, quieter now, stayed close to Saphira and kept his head down.
Kalen allowed it, but never eased his guard.
He knew how the Maevryn worked. And this... this peace was too easy.
The c***k came a week later.
It started small: a missing scroll from Mira’s practice satchel.
Then, a broken vial of potion in the healer’s stores — one meant to suppress violent magical surges.
Then, a rumor spread through the lesser nobles: *The witch girl was hiding weapons.* That she was planning to burn down the manor.
It was ridiculous.
And effective.
By the end of the third day, Mira couldn’t walk the halls without guards tailing her — pretending not to, but always there, always close.
Kalen snapped after the fourth incident. He stormed the Maevryn chambers, slammed a guard against the wall, and threatened a full rebellion.
They didn’t punish him.
They didn’t have to.
Their trap was already closing.
That night, Mira woke to screaming.
Not from outside.
From **inside her own mind**.
Pain lashed through her — invisible chains, pulling, crushing, burning. Her room shook with uncontrolled magic, books flying, mirrors cracking.
Cassian and Saphira burst in moments later.
Cassian tried to reach her — got flung into a wall.
Saphira shielded her with a magic-dampening rune she’d secretly carved on a pendant. The pain finally stopped.
Mira collapsed, sobbing.
Kalen arrived seconds later, and his fury was ice cold.
“She was poisoned,” he said.
Saphira frowned. “But the food—”
“It wasn’t the food.”
His eyes turned to Mira’s satchel.
To the scrolls.
To the potion vial.
The very items Rowan had “helped” her organize earlier that day.
Later, after Mira was safe and sleeping, Kalen confronted Rowan.
They stood in the courtyard, moonlight bathing them both in silver.
“I know it was you,” Kalen said quietly.
Rowan smiled. “Know it, or *think* it?”
“I’ve seen your kind before. You come with smiles and walk away leaving graves.”
Rowan’s eyes twinkled.
“Then why haven’t you stopped me?”
Kalen took a step closer, and the temperature seemed to drop.
“Because I want you to make the next move,” he said. “So I can break you *with proof*.”
Rowan’s smile never faded.
He bowed with mock politeness and turned away.
The war had begun.
And Kalen wasn’t the only monster walking these halls.
But Rowan wasn’t done.
The next day, he turned his sights on **Silas**.
He found him alone in the archives — pouring over old maps, trying to find escape routes for the group.
Rowan approached quietly, voice soft.
“You blame yourself, don’t you?”
Silas stiffened. “What do you want?”
“I want to help.”
Silas scoffed. “Why?”
Rowan stepped closer, dropping the smile — just enough to seem sincere.
“Because I’ve made mistakes too. You’re not the only one haunted by bad choices.”
And for the first time, someone said the words Silas had been longing to hear:
“It’s not too late to fix it.”
That night, Rowan planted a coded message inside Silas’s map scrolls — a signal for the Maevryn.
Coordinates.
Timetables.
The perfect moment to strike when the group would next be alone — a gathering planned for the full moon, near the border cliffs.
Rowan would make sure they were all there.
And then, the Maevryn would wipe the slate clean.
No more witch. No more traitors. No more Blackan.
**End of Episode 10**
- Writer
