Chapter 4 -The Final Trial
1159 Words
Kaelira Ashwyn
The final trial came three months later. Lord Harren Blackwood
was a problem. The Queen’s intelligence network had identified him
as a Drakmir agent.
A high-ranking noble using his position to funnel information
across the border. He was careful, guarded, protected by muscle and
wards. Conventional methods had failed to gather proof.
So they sent me.
I stood in the shadows outside his estate, dressed in black, my face
obscured by a hood. The autumn night smelled of rain and dying leaves.
My heart beat steady and slow, but I had learned to control my
breathing. Two energy daggers rested against my thighs, their blue-white
glow dimmed to nothing. A coil of wire pressed against my spine.
Lockpicks lined my belt.
I’d studied the estate for two weeks. I knew the guard rotations, the
blind spots in the sensor arrays, the weak point in the eastern wall
where the energy barrier flickered for three seconds every hour.
I knew Lord Harren’s habits… his late-night meetings in the study,
his preference for expensive wine, his arrogance that made him
believe himself untouchable.
I waited for the barrier to flicker, then moved. The wall was smooth
stone, but I found handholds where others would see none.
I climbed in silence, my fingers finding purchase in mortar cracks
and decorative ridges. At the top, I paused, listening. Two guards on
the western parapet, their voices carrying on the wind. None on the east.
I dropped into the garden below, landing in a crouch among the
roses. Thorns caught at my clothes, but I ignored them. The study
window glowed with lamplight three floors up.
I crossed the garden like a shadow, avoiding the pressure plates
hidden beneath the grass. The servants’ entrance was locked, but
my picks made quick work of it. Inside, the manor smelled of
wood polish and old money.
I moved through darkened hallways, my footsteps silent on plush
carpets. Twice I froze as servants passed, pressing myself into
alcoves, controlling my breathing until they moved on. The house
settled around me—creaking wood, distant voices, the hum of the
energy grid powering the lights.
Lord Harren’s study was on the third floor, behind a door warded
with detection magic. I felt the spell’s presence like cobwebs against
my skin.
Nyssara had taught me to unravel such things. I traced the ward’s
pattern with my fingers, finding the weak point, and whispered the
counter-phrase. The magic unraveled with a soft sigh.
The door opened without sound.
Lord Harren sat at his desk, his back to me, reviewing documents
by lamplight.
Holographic displays flickered above the papers, communications,
troop movements, intelligence reports. All the proof the Queen needed.
I could have killed him. It would have been easy, a blade across the
throat, quick and clean. But my orders were clear: gather evidence,
leave no trace.
I waited until he left the room. My patience paid off as he walked
to the neighboring den. I heard the clink of glasses as he poured
himself a drink.
I moved through the study like a ghost, my fingers dancing over
his desk. I found an encrypted data crystal hidden in a false drawer.
I grabbed it and tucked it away. I photographed documents with a
small scanner. I memorized the holographic displays.
Lord Harren never moved.
I was halfway to the door when he spoke. “I know you’re there.”
I froze. My hand moved to my dagger.
He walked through the door, and I saw the energy pistol aimed at
my chest. His smile was cold. “Did you think I wouldn’t feel the
ward break? Did you think I was that careless?”
Time slowed. I saw his finger tighten on the trigger. I saw the
weapon’s charge indicator glow. I saw my death in his eyes.
I moved.
The energy bolt seared past my shoulder as I dove left, rolling
behind a small leather couch. I ignored the burning sensation,
focusing on defense.
Wood exploded where I’d been standing. I came up with both
daggers drawn, igniting their blue-white glow.
Lord Harren shouted, firing again. “Guards!”
I threw the first dagger. It buried itself in his shoulder, and he
screamed, the pistol clattered on the floor. I was on him before he
could recover, my second dagger at his throat.
“The data crystal,” I said, my voice cold. “Where’s the original?”
His eyes were wide with pain and fear. “You’re... you’re just a girl...”
I pressed the blade deeper, drawing blood. “The crystal.”
He told me. I retrieved it, then struck him across the temple with
the pommel of my dagger. He crumpled.
Footsteps thundered in the hallway. I grabbed both crystals and ran
for the window. Glass shattered as I dove through it, tucking into a
roll as I hit the garden below. Pain shot through my shoulder, the burn
from the energy bolt, but I didn’t stop.
I scaled the wall, dropped to the other side, and vanished into the
night.
Three days later, I knelt in the underground chamber before
Queen Seraphine. The other handmaidens stood in a circle around
us, silent witnesses. Velira stood at the Queen’s right hand, her
expression unreadable.
The Queen held a silver circlet, the mark of an elite handmaiden-
assassin.
Her voice rang with authority and magic. “Kaelira Ashwyn. You
have proven yourself worthy. You have shown skill, courage, and
dedication beyond your years. You have honored your mother’s
memory and your oath to the crown.”
She placed the circlet on my head. It was cold against my skin,
and I felt the weight of it settle into my bones.
“Rise, Shadow of the Queen. Rise, Blade in the Dark. Rise, and
take your place among the elite.”
I stood. The handmaidens bowed their heads in acknowledgment.
Velira’s eyes met mine, and for the first time, I saw something like
pride in them.
I should have felt triumphant. I should have felt proud. I’d
achieved what I’d spent seven years working toward. I was seventeen
years old, and I was one of the most dangerous women in the kingdom.
But as I stood there, surrounded by my sisters, wearing the mark of
my achievement, all I felt was hollow.
Mama was still gone. The grief was still there, buried deep but never
forgotten. I’d become a weapon, sharp and deadly and perfect.
But I didn’t know if I was still a person.
Queen Seraphine smiled at me, warm and genuine. “Well done,
Kaelira. Your mother would be so proud.”
I bowed my head, accepting the praise, and wondered if Mama would
recognize what I’d become.
The girl who’d tried to heal her with desperate, untrained magic was
gone.
In her place stood a shadow, a blade, a killer.
And I didn’t know if I could ever find my way back.
- Writer
