Rain hammered the rooftops of Eldrenvale. Lightning split the sky, and thunder rolled across the city like a war drum. Kael crouched on the edge of a high roof, hood pulled tight over his face. Below, guards patrolled the cobblestone streets, unaware that death had already perched above them.
Kael's fingers sparked with electricity—perfect night for a storm.
Two guards leaned against the balcony railing of the Duke's private quarters, laughing at something trivial. Kael grinned. "Time to wake them up."
A quick flick of his wrist, a spark of lightning, and the first guard screamed as his hair smoked. The second guard turned, clutching his chest, eyes wide in shock. Both collapsed to the wet balcony with heavy thuds.
Kael dropped silently onto the balcony, blades in hand. Rain soaked him instantly, but he barely noticed.
"Who's there?" one guard shouted, fumbling for his sword.
"You'll find out when it's too late," Kael said, voice low and deadly. His dagger shimmered with lightning. With a sharp flick, he disarmed the guard and sent him flying into the wall.
The Duke appeared behind the glass doors, eyes wide. "What… who—"
"Your reign ends tonight," Kael said, stepping forward. The blade pressed to the Duke's chest. Thunder boomed. Rain streaked across the Duke's ornate robe. Kael twisted his dagger slightly, enough to warn but not kill… yet.
The Duke paled. "You… how—"
"No time for questions," Kael interrupted. He vaulted over the railing as guards began regrouping below, sliding through shadows. Lightning arced from his blades, sizzling against the rain.
"Over here!" shouted a soldier, swinging a spear. Kael ducked, rolling behind a stack of crates. Electricity danced across the wet wood. With a flick of his wrist, another guard convulsed and fell.
Kael's scar burned faintly on his neck, a reminder he didn't fully understand. Always a warning. Always something waiting.
He ran across rooftops, leaping gaps between buildings. Rain pelted his face, lightning illuminating every drop. A shadow moved across the courtyard below. Someone was watching. Kael's instincts screamed danger, but he didn't slow.
"Kael Veyren…" a voice hissed, soft but sharp. "You've grown bold."
Kael froze, scanning the shadows. No one visible. "Bold enough to finish the job," he muttered.
A guard charged from the alley. Kael spun, dagger crackling with lightning. "Come on!" He lunged. The dagger struck the man's chest; sparks flew as he hit the ground.
Another guard aimed a crossbow. Kael somersaulted onto the roof above, kicking debris down onto the guard. Rain and thunder masked the fight.
From across the street, lightning hit the tip of Kael's dagger. Electricity arced along the metal as he slid down the building, landing silently. The Duke's private guards were in chaos below. Kael smiled faintly. Mission almost complete.
Then he heard it again—the whisper of the wind carrying a warning:
"He's awake…"
Kael turned. A hooded figure stood on a distant roof, watching him. Rain streamed down their cloak. "And he doesn't know what's coming."
Kael's lips curved into a grim smile. "I'll find out soon enough," he said. Then he melted into the shadows, moving like the storm itself.
The city would remember the name Kael Veyren tonight. Assassin. Lightning in the rain.