ARWYN
I release the powder puff, filling the room with pink smoke. I scoff at the color, wishing Raith— Pete's Artificer— had chosen something darker.
A smirk plays on my lips as the men cough and collapse, grasping their stomachs. The puff was laced with wildbane, a substance that weakens soldiers by slowing their heartbeats dangerously.
I hold my breath and lunge for the window, but it won't budge.
Cursing, I attack the window again, but it won't open. Frustrated, I give up and run for the smaller door.
Why won't this window open? There's no latch. In the smoke, I can't see the Tailoress or her men, but I hear them groaning in pain. Reaching the door, I slam my body against it, and it breaks open, hinges snapping as I fall to the floor. My arm throbs, but I get up and dash down the hallway.
"Stop her!" I hear the Tailoress scream, but how did she avoid the puff's effects? The men recover, snarling, ready to hunt me down.
I leap through an open window at the end of the hallway, grinning at the men behind me. "Try to keep up," I taunt before jumping into the busy streets below.
Lucky enough, a carriage was passing by, or I would've fallen face flat on the cobblestone. So much for looking cool. Although, a fall to the floor would be the least of the injuries I've earned in a lifetime. Once, I ran into a moving horse, got knocked out of the road, and left abandoned on the pedestal, but I crawled my way back home in time to heal my wound.
I'm a healer. One of the rarest Blessed in Vakythia. My mother was a healer, heaven rest her soul. I lunge for a stack of hay, fingers seeking the knives belted to my vest. I grab three and turn around, watching as the men jump out of the same window. By now, the fresh air should've knocked the bane off their systems.
"I'll get you, you little wench!" One of the men screams and charges across the street toward me. I throw a knife, it sticks straight into his right hand. He groans, knees hitting the floor as blood spills. "Wench!"
"Have at me, you oversized babies," I glint, my eyes running over the remaining two men. Time was slipping away. Pete had promised a cart waiting for me at the other end of Elm Street, ready to whisk me away from the clutches of the Tailoress if anything were to go south.
But I was relishing this chase. It had been a while. I could feel my heart pulsing fast against my chest, sweat lingering on my forehead and plastering some strands of hair to my face. I felt alive.
"Out of the way!" A carriage glided in front of me, the rider whipping harshly at the horses to hasten their pace. Using the carriage as a shield, I dart into a lone dark alleyway, rushing down the cobblestone as I hear crunching feet patter behind me. More of them were joining the pursuit, and I needed to escape the ground or they'd catch up.
Stopping in front of a tea shop, I grip the sign, my hand holding firmly to the metal rail before hurling my body upwards, swinging in momentum for a couple of times before letting go. I land on the roof, palms pressed to the roof-stone slab of the shop.
Beneath me, the frantic hustle of men echoed through the narrow streets, heads darting in all directions, oblivious to the shadows above. "Where did she go? Find her! The mistress needs those papers!"
Like a ghost, I glided across rooftops. Tonight unfolded in ways I hadn't anticipated, yet a secret part of me craved the exhilaration, the sweet taste of mischief that lingered in the air. Trades and missions were mundane without a dash of danger, a sprinkle of the unexpected.
As I jumped from one building to another, I thought about the trap door hidden in my home. The Tailoress's papers were tucked under Leigh's cupboard, a place she'd scold me for if she found out.
Even Pete doesn't know about the secret stash. He wanted me to find out about the Tailoress, but these papers are my own discovery, a hidden treasure.
These papers could be my way out of the slums, a ticket to Ilyndor, where my powers and Blessed heritage wouldn't be a problem. I've hidden my powers for too long, knowing they'd send me to Reedridge, the king's dull army of Blessed soldiers.
A loud snort broke the calm.
"There she is!"
No time for a break. Quickly, I threw three knives, but the men dodged them easily. Smart foes.
"Stop or regret it!" one of the lackeys shouted, a threat in his voice.
"You'll have to catch me!" I boldly declare, leaping from one rooftop to another. The gap seemed too wide, but I made it, landing awkwardly and earning a small gash.
"Ouch!" I cry, feeling the sting. I get up quickly, determination in my eyes, noticing some men on the rooftops too.
As the chase nears its end, with Elm Street winding down and buildings thinning out, adrenaline rushes through me. I need to reach the end without being seen. The sounds of pursuit push me to think fast.
Desperation sets in as I search for cover. I spot a brick chimney against a building and sprint towards it, urgency growing with each step.
I skid to a stop behind the chimney, dropping to my knees with a thud. Sweat drips down my forehead as I press against the cold brick, heart pounding.
Footsteps approached, signaling my pursuers drawing near. I held my breath, staying hidden, knowing any mistake could be disastrous.
Pressing my hands to my side, I felt something sticky - blood. Not from earlier, but fresh. One of the men had thrown a knife, grazing me in the chaos. The pain demanded attention. I needed water to heal.
As a healer, water was essential for recovery. Without it, healing slowed. I looked around for an escape, my fingers twisting my ring nervously.
With the path clear, I left the chimney, careful to not leave a trail of blood. At the end of Elm Street, as expected, a carriage waited. It wasn't just any cart; it was elegant, with an impatient horse and a focused driver. I approached, opening the door cautiously.
Pete sat inside, cloaked in darkness. "Well? Little lamb," he said, his voice echoing.
" She knows," I say, tired, as I enter the carriage.
ARWYN"Arwyn, what were you thinking?" Leigh asked, her voice reaching me in the kitchen.I stumbled home, exhausted and bruised, and Leigh immediately started questioning me. I was tired of hearing her lectures about dealing with Pete. All I wanted was to rest and tend to my cuts.She came over with water and a rag, dragging a chair to sit with purpose. Her golden hair was tied back with one of her simple bands, framing her face. Leigh didn't have many accessories, but she didn't need them to look beautiful.In the cozy corner, Lilith played with dolls Leigh had made from our old clothes.Leigh muttered, "Stay away from Pete, but you never listen." It was sweet how much she cared, and I couldn't help but smile."I'm fine," I reassured her, taking the bowl and dipping my hand in, waiting for my power to surface. "Lilith, close the window!" Leigh commanded her sister, who mirrored her in every aspect—golden hair and blue eyes. Over the years, these sisters had become my everything. Lei
THRYSTANThe Dragon Spire...A brisk breeze brushes past my ears, hinting at an early winter. Suspended fifty feet above ground, I maneuver my dragon to dodge the playful wind.My Sirrocian companion seems to enjoy blasting wind in my face.Curiosity ignites, urging me to respond with fire. I conjure a mesmerizing ball of flames and release it towards him. He dodges with a grin, clearly pleased with his maneuver.As I guide my dragon higher into the clouds, I sense Daelan's imminent presence. The hiss of his dragon and the swirling whirlwind signal the impending encounter just moments away."Watch out for those rocks, your highness!" Daelan's warning rings out. Rocks? Absurd! There shouldn't be any rocks at these heights. Despite the challenging gust of air, I stay firm on Rocco, clutching his scales atop his sturdy neck. Blast these Sirrocians and their mastery of the air. In no time, Daelan maneuvers beside me."Sneaky. But you'll need more than that to beat me," I retort with a defi
THRYSTANWhile Elaria diligently changed her muddy boots, I took the opportunity to discard the sweat-soaked shirt I had worn while riding with Daelan. Opting for a more refined attire, I aimed for a wardrobe transformation that mirrored my father's taste—something not just approved but adored by him.I slipped into a sophisticated ensemble: a cream-colored inner shirt paired with a knee-length black coat adorned with intricate gold trinkets along the edges. The deliberately split-open coat revealed the inner shirt, while a brown belt cinched my waist, complementing the sleek black pants that elegantly met a polished pair of boots.Emerging into the hallway, I found Elaria standing before the imposing oak doors of the throne room. She fidgeted and adjusted, her hand meticulously arranging her hair into the most perfect style possible."Ease up a bit," I mumble from the shadows, jolting her so much that she drives a punch straight into my gut. Her swift strikes are irritatingly effortle
ARWYNDespite Leigh's stern warnings, I couldn't resist the allure of the Wreath. As much as I despised the place and everything it stood for.Pete had a talent for turning violence into profit, drawing crowds eager to witness the spectacle of men grappling and trading blows, each fighting to assert their dominance.But the Wreath was more than just a venue for testosterone-fueled brawls. It was a vibrant hub of desires and aspirations, where both men and women sought entertainment, excitement, and sometimes, something deeper.Women adorned the stands alongside men. Some came for the sheer thrill of the spectacle, while others were dragged along by eager partners. And then there were those who lingered in the shadows, their intentions less noble, seeking pleasure and profit in equal measure.It was a world of excess and indulgence, where the wealthy flaunted their riches and the desperate sought their fortunes in the sweat and blood of the fighters. And amidst it all, Pete reigned supr
THRYSTANI struggled to maintain focus during breakfast the next morning, my mind consumed by the mysterious girl I encountered at the Wreath. The one who deftly pilfered Nerys' dagger right under my nose. Was it a calculated move on her part, or simply a spur-of-the-moment decision when she stumbled into my arms?Initially, I mistook her for one of the typical women who frequented the Wreath, seeking attention and affection from anyone willing to provide it. But there was something different about her—an air of cunning that set her apart from the rest. She wasn't here for idle flattery; she had a plan, and she executed it flawlessly.The image of her petite frame pressed against mine, ocean blue eyes, her mischievous grin hinting at secrets yet to be revealed, lingered in my thoughts."It's quite the spectacle to have you join us for breakfast, but perhaps you could acknowledge our existence," Daelan's whispered remark jolted me from my reverie.I looked up from my plate of shrimp and
THRYSTAN Elaria's laughter echoed through the drawing room, a mocking counterpoint to my rising frustration.She knew all too well the bitter history between Sora and me, how the letters I found in her drawer to a lover in Quasar broke me and her departure to Quasar had coincided with the unraveling of our once-close bond. Despite my pleas, she had left, leaving behind a trail of betrayal that still stung."Mother, I don't think that's wise," I interjected, my tone edged with thinly veiled discomfort.A fleeting sadness flickered across Mother's face, quickly masked by her serene facade. "Ah, I see. My apologies for assuming otherwise."But Mother's apology offered little solace as she revealed her involvement in the unfolding drama. My frown deepen as she disclosed her unwitting invitation to Sora and her parents, a decision made in ignorance of the rift between us.Elaria's laughter bubbled forth anew, grating on my nerves like nails on a chalkboard. I struggled to contain the risi
THRYSTANAs I entered the Infirmary, the scent of anticeoptic and herbs hit me like a wave, momentarily overwhelming my senses. My eyes scanned the room, searching for her amidst the rows of neatly arranged beds and bustling healers.There she was, standing near the far wall, her back turned to me as she spoke quietly to one of the attendants. Without a second thought, I closed the distance between us, my steps purposeful and determined."Arwyn?," I called out, my voice a low, urgent whisper that cut through the sterile air.Startled, she turned to face me, her eyes widening in surprise as she registered my presence. Probably remembering my face from last night. Before she could react, I closed the gap between us, my hand shooting out to grasp her wrist and pin her against the wall."What do you think you are you doing?" she protested, her voice a mixture of shock, confusion and guilt. It's more of the guilt plastered on her face for stealing my dagger and it made me smirk internally.
ARWYNLeigh's gaze lingers on the gleaming dagger as I tuck it into my belt, her sapphire eyes betraying her thoughts before she even voices them."I'm guessing a generous merchant didn't just hand that to you," she remarks, adjusting her brown satchel bag across her chest."No, it wasn't a gift," I reply with a smile. "I acquired it."Leigh's expression darkens into a frown. "Arwyn! You're asking for trouble if you go around pilfering from wealthy merchants."Lilith snatches the last slice of bread from the table and nibbles on it, her gaze darting between me and Leigh, eager to witness another spirited exchange between us."He wasn't exactly a merchant," I confess with a sheepish grin. "And he's hardly the type to organize a pursuit over a lost trinket."Leigh raises an eyebrow. "So, you fancy this man then?""What?" I sputter in disbelief at the suggestion. "Fancy him? I don't even know him.""Come off it. It's been four nights since you acquired that dagger, and the first evening y