Chapter 7: The Assassin's Blade
Moonlight shimmered over the Moonspire like a blanket of white fire, draping the ancient stone in silver silence. The air was still too still. Even the wind, which usually whispered through the high towers, had retreated, as if holding its breath.
Ravelle lay in her chamber, curled beneath layers of starlight-threaded cloth. Her breathing was shallow, recovering from the possession that had rocked every ward in the Spire.
The sigil along her spine no longer burned but glowed faintly like embers after a storm.
Outside her room, Marcus and Titan kept a vigilant watch. Marcus lounged casually on a bench, twirling a dagger between his fingers, while Titan stood with arms crossed, eyes fixed on the end of the hallway.
"She's stable," Lysander had told them. "But whatever touched her... it branded her soul."
Azrael had vanished into the shadows since the incident, unwilling to face the questions the others wouldn't even voice.
And it was in that charged, fragile quiet that the assassin came.
He moved like wind through leaves, his presence masked by elven blood magic, his steps ghostlike over the rune-etched floor. Cloaked in deep green and gray, he bore the markings of the Elven Dominion's royal hunters the symbol of a crescent blade through a tree carved onto his vambrace.
He reached the hallway and paused.
A breath.
A silence.
And then
He hurled a throwing knife straight at Marcus's head.
Marcus caught it mid-air with two fingers, his eyes flaring electric-blue. "Cute."
Titan was already moving, the ground cracking beneath his boots as he surged forward.
But the assassin vanished into smoke.
From the shadows behind them, the elf reappeared, a curved blade drawn. He didn't go for Ravelle.
He went for Seralyn.
She had just entered the corridor, her expression grim and distracted from searching for Azrael. She only had a heartbeat to register the elf before the blade sliced toward her throat.
Her arm came up, catching the strike on her vambrace. Sparks flew.
"Malek," she breathed. "I should've known."
"You betrayed us," the assassin snarled. "You sheltered the Lunar Sovereign."
"I protected balance," she hissed.
Marcus moved between them. "Anyone wanna explain why Legolas here's trying to kill a member of our court?"
Malek's eyes narrowed. "This isn't your concern, wolf."
"Wrong answer."
He lunged again, this time faster.
Titan grabbed Seralyn and pulled her back, while Marcus blocked Malek's slash with both daggers. The air vibrated with kinetic magic as Marcus and the elf danced in a blur of metal and fury.
Seralyn drew her twin crescent blades, ready to intervene but something in her stopped. Her eyes locked with Malek's, memories flashing in the tension.
She had once trained beside him in the Dominion. Once saved him from execution. Once loved him.
Now he had come to kill her.
He swept under Marcus's guard, slicing toward her abdomen. Seralyn caught the blade mid-swing and locked it against her own.
Their faces were inches apart.
"You're a traitor," Malek hissed.
"So are you. You just don't know it yet."
He growled and pushed harder.
She could kill him. Right now. One twist. One lunge.
But she hesitated.
And in that heartbeat
A blur of dark motion appeared behind Malek.
Kaela.
She plunged her blade through his back, up into his ribs.
Malek gasped.
His eyes widened betrayed not by Seralyn, but by the stranger he hadn't seen.
Kaela pulled the blade out slowly, and Malek collapsed to his knees.
"I…" he choked. "She was supposed to… die."
His last breath left him in a whisper of magic.
Silence fell.
The only sound was Kaela's breathing measured, steady, merciless.
She looked down at the blood pooling around her boots.
Then she turned to Seralyn.
Her face was unreadable.
But her voice was ice.
"Now we're even. I saved your life."
Seralyn stared at her for a long moment, then lowered her blades.
Marcus looked between the two women. "I'm guessing there's a story behind that line."
Neither of them answered.
Titan stepped forward, toeing Malek's body. "Dominion assassin. Royal crest."
"Not just any assassin," Seralyn murmured, kneeling beside him. "Malek was commander of the Shadowband. This means the Dominion sent its best."
Kaela bent down and yanked a small scroll tube from inside Malek's cloak. It was sealed with a black wax crescent.
She cracked it open and read silently. Her jaw clenched.
Seralyn took the scroll and read aloud:
"To whomever bears this mark of judgment: Kill the Lunar Sovereign before the Eclipse consumes her heart. Signed, High Priest Velorth of the Dominion."
Lysander entered the corridor moments later, drawn by the fighting. His usually calm features hardened when he saw the scroll.
"It's started," he said. "The old powers have aligned. They fear what she's becoming."
Azrael appeared last, stepping from the shadows behind a pillar, his red eyes unreadable. He said nothing but walked past them all and into Ravelle's chamber.
Later that night, they gathered in the Moonspire's Hall of Echoes.
The circular chamber, lined with mirrored obsidian, reflected not their appearances but their truths. In those reflections, Seralyn's eyes shimmered with guilt. Kaela's with fury. Marcus and Titan looked like wolves in armor.
Azrael? He cast no reflection at all.
Ravelle sat at the center of the circle, pale but conscious. Her silver eyes held fire now.
"So," she said quietly. "They've marked me for death."
Lysander inclined his head. "The moment you awakened your full sigil, the world knew."
"Then let it come," she said.
Titan stepped forward. "We protect you. That is the vow."
She shook her head. "No. We fight."