Lyra Nightshade sat cross-leggeded on the forest floor, the shadows of the dense trees wrapping around her like a familiar cloak. The air was cold, sharp with the crisp bite of the mountain breeze, but Lyra barely noticed. She was deep in her meditation, her body still while her mind focused on the flow of mana circulating within her core. Every breath brought her deeper into the rhythm, her senses sharpening with each controlled exhalation.
The woods surrounding Crystalspire were quiet tonight—too quiet. A stillness had settled over the land, the sort that heralded change, and Lyra knew that somewhere beneath the surface of that silence, something was shifting. Her fingers twitched slightly, sensing the currents of mana in the air. She wasn’t one to believe in fate, but tonight felt different.
The soft crunch of leaves underfoot broke her concentration, and she opened her eyes, the world around her snapping back into focus. Gareth, one of her most reliable assassins in her squad, approached, his face a mask of disbelief. His steps were careful, measured—as they always were, but Lyra could sense his excitement.
“You’re not going to believe this,” he said, his voice muted, but tinged with surprise.
Lyra raised an eyebrow, remaining seated for a moment longer before standing and stretching her limbs, as though she’d been expecting new. “Try me,” she replied, her tone calm, though curiosity flickered behind her crystalline gaze.
Gareth glanced over his shoulder, as though to make sure the rest of their squad wasn’t overhearing and then leaned closer. “Hayden Harsta. The boy. He’s left the castle. Alone.”
Lyra’s eyes narrowed, the barest flicker of surprise crossing her usually composed expression. “He left?” She hadn’t expected the boy to run, especially not after what had happened in the court earlier. She had planned to infiltrate the keep and abduct him. “Where’s he headed?”
“Due south. I suspect along the trade route, but I can’t be sure. The mark doesn’t give me that kind of detail.” Gareth paused, watching for Lyra’s reaction.
Lyra’s lips curved into a faint smile, her feline features catching the moonlight filtering through the trees. “Interesting.”
She’d spent days preparing for this mission, waiting for the right moment to approach the Harstan estate, remotely observing the movements of those inside Crystalspire. But Hayden fleeing the keep of his own accord? That made things much easier. Far less bloodshed, far less risk of reprisal. She could almost admire his sense of timing—almost.
“How far is he?” she asked, already moving to gather her gear.
“Not far, maybe a few leagues ahead. We can catch him by morning if we leave now.”
Lyra didn’t need any more encouragement. She turned, a soft birdcall escaping her lips as she gave the signal to the others. In the shadows of the woods, her assassins began to stir, silently gathering their weapons and preparing for the hunt.
Their mounts—huge mountain panthers—stalked forward, their sleek forms blending into the darkness, eyes gleaming faintly in the moonlight. The panthers, fierce and agile, were perfect for the terrain. They could navigate the treacherous mountains with ease, and their enhanced speed and strength made them ideal for tracking prey—whether human or otherwise.
Lyra mounted her own panther, an ink-furred beast named Slink, who moved with the deadly grace of a predator. The bond between them was deep, forged over years of hunts together. Slink’s muscles tensed beneath her as they prepared to move out, and Lyra could feel the subtle thrumming of her mount’s heartbeat beneath her legs.
“Let’s move. We’ll catch him before he even knows we’re there,” Lyra said, her voice a dagger sheathed in velvet.
The assassins didn’t need any more instruction. They mounted their panthers and followed Lyra into the night, the only sound the soft rustle of leaves as they disappeared into the trees.
They rode swiftly, the panthers’ powerful legs propelling them through the forest at a speed no horse could match. The terrain was uneven, but their mounts moved effortlessly, their claws gripping the rocky ground with ease.
As they neared their target, Lyra focused on the faint soul mark of their quarry. Though the young noble was no great mage, she could still sense the presence of his soul ahead of them like a candle flicker in the vast darkness of the mountains.
Lyra narrowed her eyes as the wind whipped passed her face. There was something else. A presence that flickered and pulsed—predatory and far stronger than any mere animal.
She pulled back on the reins of Slink and the panther halted in a few steps. The rest of her squad gathered around her silently. “There’s something else,” she said by way of explanation.
Gareth nodded. He was far more experienced with soul magic than she was. It was why he had been assigned to tracking their target. “I’m sensing a fellbadger. The damn beast is chasing him and I think he lost his bearings because he’s heading back in our direction instead of further south. He’s going to lead it right to us.”
Lyra felt a flicker of admiration for their prey. He was young and inexperienced, but it was clear he’d engaged the beast and chosen to disengage—a wise move, considering he had no hope of defeating such a creature alone.
“Looks like the boy knows when to retreat,” she murmured, more to herself than anyone else. “Let him run,” she said more loudly for the rest of her squad. “We’re not here to fight the fellbadger. Let the boy tire it out. Then we’ll take him and the badger.”
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Gareth shared periodic updates with the rest of the squad. The chase continued. Hayden was fleeing now, his mount—likely a Harstan goat—was darting through the rocky terrain with impressive agility. But even with its skill, the fellbadger was relentless, its massive form barreling after the youth with frightening speed.
Suddenly, Gareth swore. “Damn, the boy has stopped. His soul feels weak—maybe unconscious.”
A bolt of alarm thundered through Lyra. She couldn’t allow the youth to die. “We ride!” she shouted as she spurred Slink forward, leading her squad down an incline in their quarry’s direction.
Lyra urged her panther forward, the beast’s muscles rippling under her as they sped through the uneven terrain. The faint light of the moon did little to illuminate the jagged rocks and twisted paths, but her enhanced vision allowed her to see every detail—the narrow trails, the drop-offs, the looming trees that shadowed the way ahead. Her team followed closed behind, their mounts just as swift and agile, but they were still some distance from where Hayden had stopped.
As they approached, Lyra’s eyes sharpened, focusing on the scene unfolding below in the ravine. Hayden’s mount, a Harstan goat, stood defiantly between its unconscious master and the fellbadger. The massive creature snarled and snapped, its heavy claws tearing up chunks of earth as it tried to get past the goat, but the loyal beast was relentless. Despite its injuries—deep gashes along its side where the badger’s claws had struck—it refused to give ground. Blood dripped from the wounds, staining the rocky floor below, but still, it lowered its horns and blocked the fellbadger’s path.
Lyra’s eyes narrowed. The situation was bad. Very bad.
“Gareth, Faline—retrieve the boy, now!” she ordered, her voice cutting through the night.
Without hesitation, the two assassins leapt from their panthers, sliding down the rocky slope toward the ravine where Hayden lay. The steep drop didn’t slow them; years of training had taught them how to move with precision, even on treacherous ground. Their forms blurred as they descended, the sound of their boots scraping against the rocks drowned out by the fellbadger’s furious roars.
Lyra, meanwhile, steeled herself for the battle. She would need to deal with the creature before it could do any more damage to the Harstan goat—or worse, turn its attention back to Hayden.
With a quick flick of her wrists, she drew her twin enchanted daggers, their edges gleaming faintly with the sickly green mana that coated them. These blades weren’t just razor sharp—they were venomous, enchanted to deliver a quick acting toxin with each cut. The trick, of course, was landing those cuts. And against something as massive and armored as a fellbadger, that was no easy task.
She exhaled slowly, focusing her mana into her core, letting the familiar pulse of shadow magic flow through her veins. Her body began to blue at the edges, the shadows clinging to her, wrapping around her form like a second skin. She could feel the darkness settle over her like an icy cloak, making her lighter, faster, harder to track.
Then, in the blink of an eye, she moved.
Lyra leapt off of Slink and darted forward, her form practically teleporting as she used her magic to blink from one side of the ravine to the other, closing the distance between her and the fellbadger in an instant. The creature snarled in confusion, its head whipping around as it tried to track her movements, but Lyra was too fast, too elusive.
She struck at its flanks first, her daggers slashing through the air with deadly precision. The blades bit into the weaker joints between the fellbadger’s thick armored plates, slicing through skin and muscle. The poison from her daggers immediately seeped into the wounds, and though the beast’s thick hide prevented the cuts from being deep, the venom would begin to work its magic soon enough.
The fellbadger roared in fury, spinning to swipe at her with its massive claws, but Lyra was already gone, disappearing into the shadows once again. She reappeared at its rear, her blades flashing out to strike at the vulnerable area behind its knees. Another hit, another dose of poison.
But the creature wasn’t giving up so easily. With a vicious growl, it reared up on its hind legs and slammed its front paws into the ground, sending a shockwave through the earth. The rocks beneath Lyra’s feet trembled, and she had to leap back to avoid being thrown off balance.
The fellbadger’s eyes gleamed with rage as it spun toward her again, snapping its jaws and swinging one massive claw in her direction. This time, Lyra was just a fraction too slow. The claw caught her across the side, its force sending her tumbling to the ground with a sharp cry of pain. She felt the sting of blood welling from the deep gash across her ribs, but she forced herself to move, pushing the pain aside. There was no time for weakness.
The fellbadger charged her, its massive bulk bearing down on her with frightening speed. But Lyra’s mind remained cold and focused. She rolled to the side just as the creature lunged, its claws gouging deep into the stone where she had been a moment before. Then, with a quick flick of her hand, she threw one of the daggers into its exposed neck.
The blade struck true, embedding itself in the soft tissue between the armored plates. The fellbadger let out a guttural bellow, blood spurting from the wound as the poison began to take hold. Lyra pushed herself to her feet, her chest heaving with the effort, her vision swimming slightly from the pain in her side.
But she wasn’t done yet.
With a final burst of speed, she blinked behind the creature, her remaining dagger flashing out to slice through the tendons at the back of its legs. The fellbadger faltered, its massive frame collapsing under its own weight. It let out one last desperate growl before Lyra drove her dagger into the base of its skull, ending the fight with a swift merciful strike.
For a moment, the world was silent, save for Lyra’s labored breathing. The fellbadger lay still, its body twitching slightly as the last of its life drained away. Lyra stepped back, pressing a hand to the wound at her side, feeling the hot, sticky blood beneath her fingers.
“It’s done,” she muttered, wiping her blade clean before sheathing it.
From the ravine, Gareth and Faline were already pulling Hayden up from where he had fallen. The youth’s mount, battered and bleeding limped over to its master’s side, nuzzling him gently as the assassins worked.
“He’s still alive,” Gareth called out, his voice strained from the effort of dragging the unconscious youth up the steep slope. “Unconscious, but he’ll live.”
Lyra breathed a sigh of relief. Her job wasn’t over yet, but at least the boy was alive. That was all that mattered for now.
“Good,” she said, wincing slightly as she straightened. “Let’s get him back to camp before anything else shows up. We’ve got a long ride ahead of us.”
With one last glance at the dead fellbadger, Lyra mounted Slink again, her mind already racing ahead to the next steps of the plan. The king’s orders were clear, and now it was time to fulfill her part in this dangerous game.