⋆˖☽ Chapter 9 ☾˖⋆
2400 Words
Mikaeus sat behind his desk, the wood bare except for a lonely stack of parchment. Emeric leaned against the far wall, arms crossed over his chest, one boot propped casually against the stone—though the tension in his jaw betrayed him. And then there was Mira. She sat in the chair beside mine, spine rigid, radiating a silence so absolute it felt like a physical chill in the air.
"I wanted you all to get a chance to speak freely," Mikaeus said, his voice cutting through the heavy quiet.
Emeric shifted, angling his shoulder further away from us. Mira didn’t blink.
"We leave for the mainlands in two days," Mikaeus continued, his gaze heavy. "Before the Cursed Moon rises again."
"Where are we starting?" Mira asked. Her voice was flat, devoid of curiosity.
Mikaeus looked to me. "Where do you think we should start?"
I closed my eyes for a fraction of a second, pulling the memory from the dark. I pictured the dock where the Cinderwake had first brought us ashore—the smell of salt, the sound of water slapping against wood.
"I was blindfolded," I said, my voice hushed but steady. "But I remember the dock... the travel by boat from Luminethra was about half a night." I straightened in my chair, finding my resolve. "On my return, however, I boarded near Vidnamore."
"Vidnamore?" Emeric scoffed, looking up from the floor. Skepticism twisted his features. "Why would they be near there? You claim the Underkeep was in a cave, but there are no caves in that vicinity. The terrain doesn’t match."
"That is where the Cinderwake was," I insisted, locking eyes with him. "When I found it to return to Luminethra."
Mikaeus tapped a finger silently on the desk. "There are no caves that we are aware of. At least, not within a day's travel."
"When they blindfolded me..." I paused, measuring the weight of the memory against the reality of the map. "The travel was over several hours. But it took longer because of the attack."
"An attack?" Emeric let out a sharp huff of air. "By what monster?"
"Nyxraith," I said. "The Vow, they were not prepared."
The name hung in the air. Mira didn’t move, her piercing gaze still fixed on Mikaeus, waiting for the command.
Mikaeus leaned back, his chair creaking. "I think we should still investigate the area."
"There is always a possibility we missed something," Mira added, her tone clinical. "Even if I am skeptical."
Emeric pushed off the wall, pacing closer. "It wouldn't surprise me if they have something hidden. A glamour, a passage. Or maybe," his eyes slid to me, dark and accusing, "Alanah simply missed something."
"Emeric," Mira warned. Her voice dropped, cold as a winter day.
He ignored her, stepping into my space. "Don't you want to know what those Vow scum taught her while she was away?"
My fingers dug into the fabric of my trousers, grounding me. "They are not all scum. Some are lost. And others... others are afraid of the consequences if they try to leave."
"What about Ruslan?" Emeric pressed, his voice dripping with venom. "Is he just misunderstood?"
"No." The word left me low and stern. I forced my breathing to slow, refusing to let him see me rattle. "There is no excuse for most of them."
I know innocent people will be swept up in this. The guilt already gnawing at the edges of my resolve. But are they truly innocent? Am I?
Blood would be shed. There was no choice. I steeled myself against it.
My eyes flicked back to Emeric. "Last I remember, my dagger was pressed to your throat during our fight."
He looked away, a flush of anger rising up his neck. "You fought dirty. Disrespectful."
"You're one to speak," I retorted. "Fights are not always fair. Not when you want to survive."
Emeric opened his mouth to snap back, but a sharp, rhythmic sound cut through the tension.
Click. Click. Click.
Mira. She was tapping a single fingernail against the arm of her chair. The sound drew every eye in the room. The stone-faced statue was gone; in her place sat something sharper. Alert.
"She has a point, Mikaeus," Mira said. Her voice was smooth, but it carried a weight that silenced Emeric instantly.
Mikaeus remained neutral, weighing her interference. "Then what is your opinion on this matter?"
"Emeric is being belligerent," Mira said simply, looking him up and down with dismissal. "But I agree with the principle. If we are to work as a team, we need to understand each other. We need to know how she handles herself."
"She is more than capable," Mikaeus countered.
"Is she? I haven't seen it." Her eyes fell to me, tracing the line of my shoulders down to my hands. "What weapon do you use besides a bow?"
"I can use daggers."
I refuse to ever wield a sword again. I pushed the thought down deep, locking it away.
Mira arched a brow. "If I have your permission, I would like to test her myself."
A faint, thrilling smile pulled at the corner of her lips. It was the first crack I had ever seen in her emotionless armor, and it was terrifying.
Mikaeus let out a resigned sigh, rubbing his temple. "Alanah?"
"I am fine sparring."
A predatory glint lit Mira's eyes. "Good. Let me test her skills."
She turned fully toward me. "I do hope you are prepared. I do not plan to give you an easy spar." She paused, her hand drifting down to caress the hilt of her dagger. "It has been quite some time since I have played with someone new."
Emeric let out a low, dark chuckle. "Better be careful, Mira. She may try something dirty."
Mira snapped her head toward him. "So be it. I can handle it." Just as quickly, her face smoothed back into its neutral mask.
I studied her. She was small, but built with lean, dangerous muscle. I have no idea what she is thinking or how she moves, I realized. But I need her respect more than I need her kindness.
Mikaeus's hands were folded on the desk, his knuckles whitening as he squeezed them together.
My gaze drifted to Emeric. Our eyes met, and a glint of triumph crossed his face. A satisfied smirk that said he expected me to fail.
Mikaeus’s voice pulled me back. "Very well. Let us all head to the training ground."
My fingers instinctively brushed the hilt of my dagger. As I stood, I forced my hand to fall to my side, keeping my expression relaxed, though my heart hammered a war drum against my ribs.
We took the path toward the training grounds. An overwhelming silence suffocated the air as we wound through the halls, the only sound the sharp, rhythmic clack of our boots against the floor. No one spoke; the accusations from the office still hung between us, thickening with every step.
The exit loomed. Emeric jammed his shoulder against the heavy wooden doors and shoved them open, the iron hinges groaning in protest as the biting wind rushed in to greet us.
The stone wall loomed before us, a barrier concealing the violence of the training grounds from the rest of the world. Above, the sky was bruised with heavy clouds that promised a storm was only a breath away.
Puffs of white condensation ghosted from our lips, vanishing into the freezing air. My nose stung, the cold biting at my skin. The stillness was unnerving. No one is here?
But he was there. The heavy, rhythmic thud of his boots struck the ground in perfect unison with mine. Then, as if he had plucked the thought right out of the silence, he spoke.
"Everyone is in town or on break."
I turned toward him, brow furrowing. A soft, knowing smile touched his lips, crinkling the corners of his eyes.
I shot him a sharp look, but he let it slide, his expression sobering into something sharper. "Just a warning: Mira enjoys sparring. I know you are more than capable of handling yourself, but she beats most of my men. Do not take her lightly."
I kept my gaze fixed on the path, steeling myself against the chill and the threat ahead. "I wasn't planning on it."
Every fight is a fight for survival. No opponent is ever to be taken lightly.
My fingers curled around my dagger, finding the worn grooves of the hilt. Mira might have years of experience, but Ondina was the one who had forged me. And I trusted her teaching with my life.
"I have full confidence in your abilities," Mikaeus murmured, his voice a low rumble meant only for me. "Let them see you, too."
Our eyes locked for a heartbeat. A stolen second of calm in the gray morning. I forced myself to break the connection, locking my focus on the figure waiting in the center of the ring. Mira.
"Thank you." The words were barely a whisper, snatched away by the wind.
Doubt, sharp and cold, pricked at the back of my mind. Maybe Emeric is right to question him... why does he trust me so blindly? What does he see that I don't?
Across the yard, Mira drew her daggers from her thigh holsters. She spun them in her palms, a mesmerizing blur of steel. Her jaw set, and her eyes went flat, until her head snapped toward me, c*****g unnervingly to the side.
"You talked about survival," she said, her voice cutting clean through the silence. "Let me see how you survive."
A dangerous excitement danced in her eyes.
My pulse hammered a chaotic rhythm against my ribs as I stepped away from the safety of Mikaeus’s side. I drew the dagger from my holster, the leather creaking in the cold, and adjusted my stance. I tested the ground—frozen hard, unforgiving.
She will be fast.
I dug my heels into the dirt, inhaling a sharp, steadying breath to hold my—
She didn't wait. She was already moving, dissolving into a blur that closed the distance before I could finish the thought.
She struck with a single, vicious s***h. My arm snapped up on instinct, the impact reverberating through my bones. I shoved forward, trying to invade her space, but she was fluid. She pulled back immediately, maintaining her range.
Her expression remained neutral, emotionless. She lashed out with her left hand next. Less fluid than the right.
"Good." Her voice cut through the ringing of steel.
A corner of her lip curled up, but her eyes burned with fury. She hopped back, shifted her footing, and then the real attack began. She unleashed a relentless barrage, a storm of s***h after s***h that forced me onto my heels. I stumbled backward, lungs burning for air, finding no opening to switch stances.
I had to get inside her guard.
Her daggers flashed toward me again. I dropped low, the air hissing above my head as I dodged the strike. Her right hand whipped down to block me as I rose, our weapons locking together with a harsh clack.
I used the friction as leverage, sliding past her defense and ramming my left shoulder into her sternum. The impact knocked the wind out of her; she staggered.
I snatched her left wrist, wrenching it sharp and hard. The pain forced her hand open, and her dagger hit the dirt with a dull thud.
For the first time, the mask slipped. Her eyes widened, and her lip gave a single, irritated twitch.
I swept her ankle. She fell face-first, catching herself at the last second and rolling away as my dagger slashed the empty air where she had been.
Now she was on her back. I have her. The thrill of victory surged as I lunged down.
But she caught my strike. A dangerous spark lit up her eyes. She gripped my arm and pulled, using my own momentum as a weapon. I was airborne. The world tilted.
I flew over her, slamming into the hard-packed dirt with a bone-jarring thud. The impact emptied my lungs instantly, leaving me gasping, staring up at the gray sky.
Mira snatched her dagger from the ground. My chest burned, but I forced my limbs to obey. Get up.
Through the haze, Emeric watched from the sidelines. That smug, satisfied look on his face lit a fire in my gut hotter than the cold air.
No.
I clawed my fingers into the ground. With a grunt, I flung a handful of dirt into Mira’s face. She stumbled back, blinded and cursing. I rolled, finding my footing and slipping behind her in the confusion.
I raised my blade, targeting a vital point. Here.
My hand froze. My muscles screamed to strike, to survive, but something deeper locked my arm in place. Don't kill.
She didn't share my mercy. She spun, a blur of motion. Her forearm crashed into mine, jarring the bone. Cold steel rested against my sternum.
"You hesitated," she said, her voice flat. She stepped back, sheathing her weapons with a fluid snap.
Mira walked away, heading straight for Mikaeus. I stood there, chest heaving, my grip tightening on my hilt until my knuckles turned white. I bit down on my cheek.
Mikaeus met my gaze with a soft, encouraging smile and a nod. But beside him, Emeric stared right through me. His expression was unreadable and cold.
His lips moved. He didn’t make a sound, but the shape of the words was unmistakable.
I guess you learned something.
Before I could respond, he snapped his head away and stalked toward the exit, leaving the insult hanging in the freezing air.
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- Writer
