With spectacular executions meant to shock and entertain, the Barons’ rule over Clais resembles the Age of the False Empress, the shortest era of Claridia.

— Memoir of Claridia

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A spring evening under the broken full moon, the innards of the natural satellite twinkled and danced in a playful orbit in the heavens. The salty sea gusts were comfortably cool, inviting eyes to watch the sky or find comfort at home. Clouds slowly approached in the horizon, heralding a storm.

This perfect night brought nothing but uncertainty to Veera as she closed in on Archentrantress Celara’s estate. It was a large manor on the upper levels of the city, near the crowning towers at the top. The roofs were ornamental, steeply sloped and dotted with spikes of silver with gemstones at the point. A great work of architecture that Veera absolutely abhorred because of who was in side. Powerful Celara, the most prominent enchantress in Clais — perhaps one of the best in the world. Dangerous, powerful and, as much as Veera hated to admit it, could not be underestimated.

Another night was not an option. Veera needed Celara away from her home, and today, she was celebrating this perfect spring gift by executing someone in public. It would be the only opportunity to break in for several moons.

At the highest tower of the manor was a perch for a sal’owl, spinning her head in a watchful gaze. If Veera got close to the estate, she would not only be spotted but identified, which would lead to her summary execution. It was surely everything Celara was waiting for; a way to put an end to their years of rivalry. Veera could not let her win — also surviving was of some secondary concern.

The straight route to the manor was too dangerous so, instead, Veera circled the city. At the edge of the perilous cliff that overlooked the Cradle Ocean, where the currents were violent and novice sailors found violent deaths against jagged stone, she begun climbing. The wind here was not like within the city; it was violent, trying to push Veera off the narrow paths of stone and into the water where death would follow swiftly if the sea felt merciful.

There was an opening not high above the sea where the city sewers deposited its excreta into the sea. The odour made her feel pity for the waters below. She lifted her mask to cover her nose with cloth and ventured into the system. On each side of the river of excrement were paths to walk on. Veera made sure her cloak would not even approach the foul liquids bubbling in her path.

The advantage of this odour was masking her own. She had taken precautions to mask her scent so that trackers could not easily find her. The disadvantage was how demeaning it felt.

The paths on the lower levels wound like a labyrinth, but as the density of houses diminished proportionally to altitude, and so did the permutation of paths. Veera used an old map to find the way to Celara’s manor. She got lost and doubled backed a few times thanks tot he confusing and unclear directions in the faded ink. The name on the scroll still referred to the Old Royalty that lived there, but their names were washed away by time.

Veera stopped at a metal gate, confirming with the map one last time that she was at the correct location. There were no visible locks; some mechanism inside the house held this gate in place. The Barons had spent plenty of resources making sure they had escape routes to avoid the same fate they had inflicted on the Old Royalty. With this, they left the city in disrepair and its inhabitants unhappy, paradoxically increasing the chances that they would be overthrown. At least these expensive escapes would not go unused if yet another revolution broke out.

The metal bars were easily defeated. Veera passed through them as if they were not there. The next challenge was more tricky; a door with no visible locks to pick. It was flush with the surrounding stone, which meant Veera couldn’t sneak past it; to use her cloak trick, she required that at least her hands fit through a gap.

She pushed against the door and heard, on the other side, a latch keeping the door in place. There was little information to go on, but Veera could think of a general purpose solution. She grabbed her experimental spell meant to manipulate real space and placed it against the gap on the door where she had felt the latch. Without knowing the thickness of the barrier and where exactly the latch was, she would have to use some amount of brute force.

She activated the spell embedded within the gemstone, expanding the distance between the door and the wall and pushed. Her hope was to create enough space that the latch’s arm would be too short to reach the limiter and the door would be effectively unlocked. It would be as if the arm had grown shorter, thus allowing free movement of the door.

Veera felt her hand grow cold as she poured energy into the enchantment, immediately pushing against the door. Nothing, the bolt did not move. She had gotten the door thickness wrong. One more try, further away from her that required even more energy — mere millimetres exponentially increased the draw of the spell.

Nothing once more, but she heard the latch clink. This meant she had gotten the thickness of the door right. But there were more issues; the spell wasn’t properly characterised, and she did not even know the volume and topology of the space she was creating. It was a distinct possibility that her spell was incapable of creating enough space to release the bolt. The effect of the spell was also so brief he bolt would not have time to fall due to gravity, hence why she pushed against the door.

Her hand was numb from the sudden pull of energy, but she had one more try in her. She got close to the door and pictured its mechanism clearly in her head, the distance, the stone, the space she meant to create. She poured everything she had and, suddenly, a clang. She was so focused on the spell that she forgot to push the door, but it did not matter; the bolt fell through the limiter. Her whole arm ached, but she had done it.

It took a lot of pushing to get the door to slide open from the outside, but it was much easier to handle it on the inside. Veera studied the latch and saw a long arm. To unlock it, she would have had to create at least a meter of space. This was a success for her spell, even if she could not control it perfectly yet.

The stone door led to a storage room with dusty old barrels, paintings, and furniture. Veera sneaked through it and opened the hatch at the top. It led to a small room on the ground level. There were no lights and the scent of the servants was distant.

She moved on into the dark house, making her way to Celara’s laboratory. Once she was out of the small room, she had some familiarity with this place; she had been there for pitiable demonstrations of enchantments, and soirées several times. For once, she was happy Alexandre had made her attend those.

A whole wing of the manor had been converted into a laboratory. There was wire, string, coils and solenoids on every table, attached to chemicals and enchanted gemstones. Thaumaturgical physics, Celara's expertise. Veera found all of this trite.

Much to her frustration, there were no Feathers in the laboratory. There was no safe, no hidden compartment she could find, and none of the gemstones were made from that precious crystal. Veera finally admitted that Celara had some talent. Though she did it quietly and would leave it unsaid. Without the aid of a Crystal Feather, her enchantments merited some respect. Still, she was quite frustrated and spent some time trying to rethink a plan. It was the wrong place and moment, but her mind was running circles.

Veera thought of another possibility: Celara’s study. Maybe she did not have the feathers there, but she had some kind of information on them. An improbability that was worth exploring considering the danger Veera had already put herself in.

The study was on the upper floor. It wasn’t too large, almost cosy, with work tables and comfortable chairs perfect for light pondering or deep napping. She found a stack of papers on one of the desks; Orders of materials for research, diagrams for weapons, correspondence between Celara and Master Enchanter Percival. So much correspondence between Celara and Percival.

It looked useless at first glance, but one particular paper drew Veera’s attention. It was speaking of some order of fhe’turkey in Cajuara, which was quite strange for Celara. It spoke of trouble chasing down the birds and problems with transportation.

Veera read the wording over and over.

Material loss has been substantial, we cannot guarantee shipment at this time. Our resources are limited and some personnel are discouraged by the search.

As amusing as the thought of Celara’s lackeys being defeated by a fhe’turkey was, the text clearly spoke of something else: there were living Crystal Owls in Cajuara.

Veera’s chest filled with hope and her feathers bristled out.

Using an enchanted stone, she layered the piece of parchment over a scroll of her own to make a perfect copy in moments. She placed all the papers where they were and headed for the door.

If you spot this tale on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.

Her feathers bristled, lost in a daydream, thinking of the living Crystal Owls. Her ambition within reach, a Feather so close that she could almost touch them. Crossing the known world was nothing after thirty years of search. Now she had a lead, a real one!

As Veera reached for the doorknob, she heard a commotion on the ground level. Servants scrambled around and a door opened. Veera’s nose picked up the distinct perfumed scent of Celara. She had spent too long lost in the sewers and the execution was over.

Veera waited behind the door. With any luck, Celara would go to sleep and she could sneak out soon enough. She waited for a few moments as the commotion died down, but footsteps grew closer. Not willing to leave it to chance, Veera slid into the narrow space between two shelves, a few paces away from the door and behind the main desk.

The footsteps drew closer. Stopped in front of the study. Veera held her breath.

The door creaked open slowly. Had been found out? A silence alarm? Her scent? She saw a large shadow cast on the ground from beyond the door with the shape of the Archenchantress. The shadow moved carefully, drew closer.

Celara came into view. A rabbit smaller than Veera’s muzzle with pristine white fur and a flowing silver dress. Her snout moved quickly and her ears scanned the room, but none of it spoke of alarm. She behaved like a stressed bunny.

With an exhausted sigh, Celara walked past Veera and sat on her desk — oversized for a rabbit of her size. Veera had to decide; stay in place and risk being caught with each passing second, or resolve her grudge permanently.

She waited for Celara to be focused on her paperwork and moved out from between the shelves. Veera crept up silently, watching those rabbit ears for any sign that they had detected her. She slithered out without incident, loomed over the rabbit.

Veera pounced, claws at the ready. Celara’s ears turned to face her and jumped reflexively, but quick claws found her neck before she got away.

Veera brought the little bunny, her great enemy, to her face. Celara was struggling against the large hands, but she was prey in the hands of a predator. There was some surprise in her expression upon seeing Veera, a hint of betrayal. Her fighting grew faint.

Then the little bunny stopped hitting Veera’s hand and reached for her cuffs. A powerful jolt of electricity burst from the gemstone arms and a sharp pain pierced Veera. It paralysed her momentarily, and she let go of Celara.

The rabbit hopped away, coughing and rubbing her throat. First came fear and then she settled on surprise. “You hate me this much, Veera?” Celara asked, sounding hurt. “I know we have our differences, but to assassinate me?”

Veera rubbed her hand and looked down at the rabbit. She moved to the study’s door, closed and locked it.

“Spirits, Veera. You’re smarter than this. What is happening here?” Celara said, brushing her robes back and holding the hilt of her sword — a sword which looked more like a needle to Veera.

“I know about the Crystal Feathers,” Veera said.

“Oh,” Celara said, giving it some thought, “Well, good for you.”

“I am also aware of your difficulties in Cajuara.”

Celara’s ears twitched, giving Veera the confirmation she needed. “So what?” She tried to play it off, but Veera knew better.

“The solution is not brute force. You risk damaging the Crystal Owls.”

“I have the feeling you have a proposition,” Celara said thoughtfully.

“I can retrieve Crystal Owls for you,” Veera said. “In exchange, I will be allowed access to the Feathers.”

Celara stared at Veera and almost broke into a chuckle. “So you nearly snapped my neck for a job interview? Is that a lizard thing?” Veera did not react, she only stared. After a brief pause, Celara sighed. “I’m on thin ice with the Barons. There were Feathers in Cajuara from the original raid of Ry’lir, but they were destroyed by this living Crystal Owl. I’m being personally blamed for it, you know.”

Celara was being very friendly — much more than Veera had ever seen her be with her. She wondered whether this was an act.

“Honestly, it’s hard to find people to chase those things down. The Barons want perfect secrecy, so I have to hire people without giving them information? I don’t even care about those stupid owls,” Celara sounded quite earnest. “I only want to do my research, but the barons want weapons! Flashy executions! Ugh, the smell of burning flesh and fur is imprinted on my nostrils. I hate it. I mean, maybe it’s tasty for you, but I’m no carnivore,” she sighed. “I told them it would be better to use their resources with classical fortifications, go restore the walls and forts, but they don’t trust anyone. Having a military means trusting generals and they want complete self reliance. At least I get plenty of resources for my research.”

Veera stared at Celara, wondering why she was telling her all of this. It was a little disarming. She had never seen the little rabbit speak so openly, especially against the Barons.

“Sorry, long day,” Celara recomposed herself. “I do want you to apologise for nearly murdering me, but… I can see a partnership working. There are some hurdles, however.”

Veera kept quiet, but her eyes instructed Celara to go on.

“The Barons can’t know what you are doing. They would never trust a reptile — or whatever you are — to go after them,” Celara said. Veera tensed up at the jab about her species. This is why she hated that rabbit, but she would look past it as long as getting the Feathers was a possibility. “But I need to stress how important secrecy is. If the Barons find out, they will execute you, me, my assistants, your assistants… Even Duke Alexandre won’t be safe.”

Veera tuned the rest of the conversation out. She was so focused on the Feathers that she did not even think how they could affect Alexandre. If the Barons knew she was involved and suspected he was too, it would be the excuse they needed to end his life. Veera could not let that happen. If Celara was lying, if this was a ruse, if she was only looking to deescalate the situation now to have Veera and Alexandre executed later, she needed to extinguish such a possibility.

Wordlessly, Veera pounced. Celara drew her sword and pointed at Veera with such readiness that Veera thought she had been preparing for this moment from the start.

Light flashed from the little rapier as lightning sprung from the tip. It was a bright, loud crack that blinded and deafened Veera temporarily. She shielded herself with her arm as the electricity pierced through, hitting the door behind and leaving embers on the wall. Veera patted down her cloak to stop the fire from spreading. A quarter of her cloak was ruined, revealing a long, slender arm underneath with bat-like membranes.

Veera flipped the desk in front of her as a shield. Celara drew her sword, swished it in the air and released another bolt, this time hitting the table.

“The more of you I see, the less certain I am of your species. Will you tell me what you are?” Celara asked, but Veera was not about to dignify that question with an answer.

There was a pause between the two times Celara had released the lightning, but not long enough to dash through the distance between them. She would be hit at least once, surely incapacitating her. She saw no way to approach Celara without risking a direct hit, despite the power of her cloak.

“I wouldn’t have used my research for these purposes were it nor for the Barons. I have to admit it helps to have a method of self defence when you’re a rabbit,” Celara gloated.

While Veera mulled over a plan, she heard Celara jump. She turned as the rabbit aim her rapier from the air and release another bolt of lightning. Veera shielded it with the intact side of her cloak in time. The electricity passed through her, destroying another portion of her cloak and hitting the floor. Her arms would not shield herself again, and her cloak was getting damaged quickly. Her body begun to flow out of the space inside. A long tail bigger than what could fit inside slithered out, then her slender arms became visible. She tried to contain it but it was impossible, her enchantment was in the brink of losing cohesion; another direct hit and it would collapse entirely. Were that to happen, she would be defeated.

Veera begun to formulate a plan, but there was a commotion outside; the servants had been alerted. They were knocking on the door to ask if Celara needed help. The knocks quickly increased in speed and strength as they became anxious. Then the guards hit the door and barked orders. Celara would no longer have to risk missing Veera; she could wait for the guards to knock the door down and have her captured.

“If you surrender, I’ll guarantee that you are treated fairly — proper judgement at all. I can’t say for certain you’ll keep your life, but it’s better than being electrocuted, tortured, and executed anyway,” Celara said. “I wish things didn’t have to end this way between us. A grudge can be a good thing. Competition motivates us to do better, but you took a step too far.”

Veera reached inside her cloak. Despite all the surrounding noise, she had managed to think of a plan. She retriever Fletcher’s dagger and peeked from her hiding spot, her timing would have to be perfect. On the other side of the room was Celara. She had climbed the oversized armchair for a better angle.

Veera hopped over the desk and threw the dagger, lodging it on the ground next to Celara. The rabbit glanced at it, took aim. Veera braced herself.

When the flash of light was over, Veera was upon Celara. The dagger had drawn the lightning, disintegrating under the current but protecting Veera from being hit.

Shock ran through Celara’s face when she realised what had happened. She tried to dodge Veera’s hands but could not. She attempted to activate her protective cuffs, but Veera was prepared and crushed them before Celara had a chance. The electric rapier fell to the ground as Veera squeezed the rabbit’s neck.

“It’s not… it’s not fair,” Celara cried. “I hit you so many times… why do I lose when I get hit once?”

“Tell me what you know about the Crystal Owls,” Veera demanded.

“I already did. No one is trusted — information is sparse. If you go to Cajuara, you will know better… please, Veera, I never wanted this for us,” the rabbit begged. “I won’t go after you, I promise. I have so much work unfinished.”

Veera considered mercy. From this angle, the Archenchantress was so small. A little rabbit in her hands, completely helpless. But this little creature represented a threat to Alexandre, and that she could not forgive. She ripped off Celara’s boots and cape, made certain she had no other weapons left.

“Farewell, Archenchantress,” this was all the empathy Veera had to spare.

Veera squeezed her hand around Celara’s neck until her struggles died down. The little rabbit was limp but barely holding on to consciousness, begging for mercy with her eyes. No such thing for the rabbit. Veera opened her jaws and tossed the twitching body inside. A deep swallow was the sweet resolution to their sour grudge.

There was no time to appreciate the finality of her victory; the door would not last much longer. Veera grabbed Celara’s rapier and stashed it inside her cloak. She opened the lonely window of the study and jumped. She let the wind catch under the bat-membranes under her arm. It was enough to slow down her fall, but she was at the mercy of the wind, being blown to this and that side as she headed inexorably to the sea below.

The door burst open as Veera jumped. The guards entered and searched their premise and found neither Celara nor her assailant. Outside the open window was nothing of note. The guards looked everywhere. Perhaps a bird had come to assassinate Celara, but they saw nothing. Confusion spread around the room.

But on the ground, between the hasty steps of guards and servants, was a singular feather left behind during the fight. Ready to be found.