As dawn slowly enveloped the capital of the Alonian Kingdom, the slumbering city remained undisturbed. The empty streets were hushed in silence, and the blurred outlines of slender figures, unseen by any of the townspeople, silently tugged heavy carts through the morning mist
If a chance wanderer or a lost traveler happened to be near the palace at that hour, they would be paralyzed with terror, for the carriages and draft animals hovered above the ground, leaving no trace on the pavement, and a trail of dark smoke in their wake
The demonic steeds, with nostrils flared and eyes blazing like fiery coals, swayed ominously, their tails like scorpions' with venomous stings. The very air around them reeked of death and terror. Each carriage was guided by a shrouded coachman.
The flickering light of lanterns cast a ghostly glow upon the tattooed faces of the drivers, bereft of any emotion. They moved with fluid grace, their arms fluttering like the branches of a sapling. Their movements were like a gentle breeze caressing the tender blades of spring grass. The carriages halted at the rear entrance, and a heartbeat later, a host of Adomant warriors disembarked. The tallest and most commanding among them, obviously their leader, nodded slowly and made an enigmatic gesture with his hand. Instantly, the rest of the warriors raced towards the castle walls and began to scale them.
The Adomants moved with grace and ease along the vertical walls of the palace, as though they were spiders. Their faces were peaceful, devoid of any sign of strain or exhaustion. Guided by an unseen force, each warrior found the slightest of hooks in the stone and dug their sharp, talon-like nails into them. Silently, the nocturnal visitors climbed to the third floor of one of the palace’s towers, where the chambers of the Chief Magician of Alonia were located.
Adolius eagerly awaited the arrival of the nocturnal guests, his flowing robes rustling as he nervously paced within his circular chamber filled with peculiar flasks and containers.
When the final Adomant stepped into Adolius’ laboratory, gliding through the air with a grace akin to a bat, the archmage stilled and wiped cold sweat from his brow. Adolius was well aware that he was in the presence of the most skilled and cunning assassins of the Five Lands. For several centuries, the sect of the Adomants had been outlawed, yet its eradication had proven to be elusive. This was in part due to the fact that even the rulers of the Five Lands, including Alonia, had sought their services to carry out punishments against those deemed undesirable.
The Archmage, who until now had kept his hands unsullied by blood, nervously bit his lip and swayed on the spot.
“We have heeded your call, Adolius,” the assassin spoke, breaking the silence. From within the folds of their robe, they produced a bound scroll and a slender, pointed rod.
“I cannot fathom who gave you the knowledge to use enchanted arrows,” one of the Adomants spoke, breaking the silence. “This is the ancient magic of our clan, bound by the oath of secrecy. Whoever reveals its secrets will be consumed by an inner fire, a retribution for betraying the trust of our tribe.”
Adolius chuckled. Surely, he wouldn’t reveal to these assassins the secrets he had gleaned from the Ice Demon Sheah in exchange for his unwavering allegiance and faithful obedience.
“Listen, Ledor. Along with my letter, I sent a pouch of rubies tied to the arrow. I believe these gems are ample compensation for you to fulfill your task without asking any prying questions. Just a quarter hour ago, Queen Aiseedora gave birth to twins, and she and her husband are now resting in their bedchamber.
No one but me knows of the birth of the heirs. Your mission is to enter the royal chambers, eliminate the king and queen, and kill one of the infants. Spare the life of the second prince. Time is of the essence.”
Adolius snapped his fingers, and letters written in glowing ink appeared in the air above Ledor, visible only to the Chief Mage.
MAGIC NETWORK ALERT
Name
Ledor
Race
Human
Specialization
Assassin
Skill Level
Mentor
Dexterity
7
Strength
5
Physique
5
Adolius frowned. Although he and Ledor had different specializations, the assassin had surpassed his skill level. Despite dedicating his life to the practice of magic, medicine, and alchemy, Adolius had never been able to rise above the level of master.
If you encounter this story on Amazon, note that it's taken without permission from the author. Report it.
In any case, all will be well...for him. The future is full of promise. Today, he will change his destiny, that of the entire kingdom, and the Five Lands as a whole. But to do so, he must sacrifice several lives... the lives of others... but that thought does not trouble him. Ledor and his followers will see to it that everything is done as it should be, and no one will guess what really happened.
***
In the labyrinth of palace corridors, the Adomants glided like shadows. Silent and agile, they moved with the grace of big cats on the prowl. Armed with short daggers and bows, they proved more than a match for the palace guards. With the agility of giant spiders, the Adomants crawled across rooftops and walls, clinging to every crevice and irregularity with ease.
The entrance to the central tower, which housed the chambers of the royal couple, was guarded by two vigilant sentinels. One of them noticed the flame of the torch flickering and dancing erratically, as if in response to some unseen disturbance. The guard looked around in confusion, but saw no obvious cause for alarm.
At that moment, a noose descended around his companion’s neck. The hapless guard had no chance to comprehend what was happening. The Adomant quickly tightened the noose, pulling the rope toward him. The sentry gasped softly and crumpled to the ground.
The second guard jumped away, his eyes frantically scanning the area as he unsheathed his sword. The assassin dropped to the ground without a sound and rose in a flash, revealing a gleaming silver dagger. Fury distorted the sentry’s features as he raised his sword arm, but his opponent leapt back nimbly and struck a branch with his elbow.
The guard advanced hastily, only to fall into the void. In a flash, the assassin sliced through the sleeve that bound him to the tree and scaled its trunk at lightning speed, his movements almost imperceptible. The sentry retreated a few paces from the tree, swinging his sword arm and fixing his gaze on his opponent. Out of nowhere, the Adomant produced a sleek, sharpened blade and hurled it at the guard, aiming for the space between his eyes. The blade struck home. The Adomants were known for their unerring aim.
Undeterred, the rest of the assassins infiltrated the tower with ease and swiftly made their way to the king’s chambers. Despite their valiant efforts, the palace guards were powerless to defend their sovereign.
The Adomants approached their work with precision, their actions mimicking those of a machine designed to extinguish life. Raised in a culture of death and murder from their earliest years, they had no respect for the intrinsic value of life. Feared throughout the Five Lands, the merciless sect showed no compassion for anyone, be it a reigning king or queen, a humble farmer, or a soldier in the heat of battle.
King Alfred and Queen Aiseedora met their untimely end quickly. The king sat beside his queen, comforting one of their newborn twins and trying to quiet her cries. The couple’s joyous moment of parenthood was cut short. Ledor was the first of the assassins to enter the royal chamber.
As soon as King Alfred saw the scorpion emblem that adorned the Adomant’s cloak, his hand instinctively went to his sword. Having fought nomads and swamp dwellers in his wars, the veteran king was well aware of the notorious reputation of the Adomants, a sect that had long been the subject of cautionary tales told by his late nursemaid. However, he had never encountered them in person.
With a swift motion, King Alfred brandished his sword, ready to defend against the looming threat. With a quick snap of his fingers, he summoned the royal magic network. This ability was a privilege reserved only for the male members of the royal family, including Alfred himself, his cousin Adolius, the court magician, and the recently born twin princes.
MAGIC NETWORK ALERT
Name
Ledor
Race
Human
Specialization
Assasin
Skill Level
Mentor
Dexterity
7
Strength
5
Physique
5
“Who betrayed me?” Alfred roared, his voice resounding through the hall. “I demand to know their name.”
With a sinking feeling, the king realized that this was his last battle. He faced Ledor, who stood before him with a nonchalant shrug, wielding a slender sword.
“What difference does it make?” Ledor snorted with cold distance. “Your destiny is already sealed.”
“Spare my wife and children,” Alfred implored. “Do you have children of your own?” He charged forward, swinging his mighty sword towards Ledor’s neck. But the assassin was ready. With a fluid motion, he sidestepped and twirled like a whirlwind.
“Go, Aiseedora! Take the children and flee,” Alfred cried out, determined to give her a chance to escape. “I’ll hold him off.”
The golden-haired queen ran frantically to the cradle, clutching two tiny babies in her arms. She sprinted to the balcony, intent on calling for help. But before she could utter a cry, more assassins burst through the door from the hall into the bedchamber, and the looming figure of another Adomant appeared behind her, making its way through the roof to the royal quarters.
Aiseedora was unaware as the warrior in the dark bandages pulled a curved sickle from his cloak and lunged at her like a predator sensing easy prey.
A choked scream from the queen echoed through the room, causing Alfred to turn. He was greeted by the sight of his beloved lying on the floor, drenched in her own blood, desperately clutching the crying infants to her chest.
Pain and rage consumed the king as he charged the assassin who had taken the life of his beloved Aiseedora. His sword was raised high, fueled by a desperate desire for justice, but it was in vain. The assassin, a skilled member of the Adamants, was too quick and agile. With lightning speed, he slipped through the window and disappeared onto the roof, taking with him one of the precious infants, all in accordance with the leader's cruel directive to spare only the sole heir.
As Alfred raced to the deserted balcony, his search for the mercenary proved fruitless. But as he turned, he was met by the cold gaze of Ledor, who had already drawn his bowstring with a deadly arrow. “Adolius has sentenced you to death,” Ledor sneered. “You, your wife and son. You trusted your brother too much, monarch, and it was your fatal mistake.”
The king had no chance to defend himself. The poison-tipped arrow struck with lightning speed, ending his life before he could draw his next breath.
Meanwhile, the assassin who had taken Queen Aisee’s life and fled to the roof stood on its edge, looking down in apparent contemplation. Mercenaries were known to perform their spiritual exercises anywhere. There have even been cases of warriors falling into a trance state amidst the chaos of battle.
The kingslayer stood for a moment, clutching the swaddled baby tightly. He raised his hand and released the tiny bundle from the height of a five-story building. Then the kingslayer turned and made his way to the other side of the roof, ready to flee down the adjacent stairs.
The kingslayer was unaware as the giant eagle, which had been circling overhead, swooped down and snatched the falling baby from the air with its sharp talons. The royal bird then disappeared into the clouds, taking the baby with it to an unknown destination.
By dawn, the Adomants had vanished without a trace.