The clamor of boots and the sharp clang of steel echoed through the halls of Karich Urough’s keep, their rhythm punctuated by Zeph’s bold laughter. She strode through the chaos on her boisterous hunt, her voice ringing out like a war horn. Her black cape flared with each confident step, the hem snapping against her heels.
“Come on, Karich!” she bellowed, her voice carrying through the twisting corridors.
A guard lunged from the shadows, his spear aimed for her chest, but Zeph sidestepped with a flourish, twisting her body in a practiced arc. The spear grazed empty air as she brought the hilt of her stolen sword crashing down on the man’s helmet, the impact echoing loudly. Without missing a beat, she spun toward another guard, her fist connected squarely with his jaw. He stumbled back, clutching his face as she pressed forward.
“Where’s your master hiding?” she taunted, her grin wide and wolfish. “Don’t tell me he’s too scared to greet his guest of honor.”
The air grew heavy with the tension of pursuit, guards hesitating as they heard her taunts. Zeph moved through them wildly, each strike deliberate and devastating. Her blade flashed in the torchlight, its blunt end battering weapons aside as she fought.
She threw her head in a wanton motion, freeing her golden locks from the sweat on her cheeks. “Karich!” she shouted again, her tone mocking.
A guard lunged, his spear aimed for her midsection. Zeph sidestepped with casual grace, the blade missing her by inches as she brought the hilt of her own crashing into his shoulder. The man spun, colliding with a wall. She turned and ducked another swinging blade. Her hips thrust back against its owner, sending him tumbling over one of his spent colleagues.
Zeph’s breath came sharp but steady, her feral grin unshaken.
From the shadows of a crumbling archway, Ablee Urough grinned, her wide eyes locked on the spectacle. The girl’s wiry frame, coated in a thick layer of gray stone paint, blended seamlessly into the dim walls.
Ablee’s breath hitched as she watched Zeph dismantle Karich’s men with artistic grace. The assassin’s movements were fluid and forceful.
"She has to join my climbing party..." Ablee whispered. The admiration in her voice surprised even herself. Her arms hung at her sides, bare and streaked with dripping paint. Though her shackles were gone, the weight of her captivity lingered, a phantom pain digging into her wrists. She’d spent so long dreaming of her escape, of the strength it would take to stand against Karich’s men. Yet here was this stranger, moving through them as easily as a knife through silk.
Zeph parried another blow, catching her enemy's weapon in a flash of sparks. With a flick of her wrist, she knocked the attacker off balance and clanged Applause against his forehead like a door knocker, toppling him.
For a moment, Ablee forgot her mission entirely. Her anger at Karich, her longing for vengeance—it all blurred under the magnetism of Zeph’s raw skill.
The sharp echo of Zeph’s taunts was cut short by a low, silken voice dripping with mockery. “Ah, the so-called Future Queen of Assassins.” it purred, slicing through the din of the keep. “What a reputation. So... theatrical.”
Zeph halted mid-step, her head snapping toward the voice. From the shadows at the end of the corridor, a figure emerged, tall and unnervingly gaunt. He wore a porcelain mask that gleamed in the dim torchlight, its painted grin a parody of civility. The deep blue and gold of his cloak glimmered as he walked. A polearm rested across his shoulders, its blade wickedly curved.
“Finally,” Zeph said, her grin widening. “I was starting to think I'd find no challenge here.” She raised the sword and shifted her stance.
"What was that?" He asked, leaning closer. Ablee's eyes narrowed upon her father's subservient. “Rinval The Deaf” she muttered angrily, naming the man she once considered a friend, "You'll see no aid from me against this witch."
"I'm not going to repeat myself!" Zeph shouted as a subtle weight seeped into the air around her. It clung to her skin and wrapped around her thoughts. Her grip on the sword felt a little less steady. She tried to shake it off, lunging forward with a sweeping strike aimed at Rinval’s midsection.
His polearm spun, deflecting her blade with a resounding clang. His effortless counter left Zeph off-balance. How did he...
“Tsk,” Rinval chided, his voice soft yet piercing. “So much passion, so much fire—and yet, it burns carelessly.” His words slithered into her mind, twisting her focus.
Zeph snarled, driving forward with another strike, this one heavier, angrier. Rinval parried again, his polearm twirling lazily.
Her swings grew wilder, her precision faltering as his words dripped into her psyche. Ablee gritted her teeth, "Come on, lady, you can take him..."
“Tell me, loudly please,” he continued, his tone light but unyielding, “you don't really think you can topple a warlord, do you? You've over-extended yourself, Zeph."
“Shut it,” Zeph growled, her teeth gritted as she pressed her attack. Her blade arced again, but Rinval sidestepped, his polearm darting forward. Its razor-keen tip slid into her right shoulder, pulling a spray of crimson from the black fabric of her blouse. She stumbled back, cursing under her breath.
“Ah, there it is,” Rinval said, his tone turning almost playful. “A crack in the would-be Queen’s facade.”
Zeph hissed, trying to ignore the wound. Her pain married with the oppressive weight of Rinval’s words, threatening to drown her focus. She glanced at the nearest doorway, her mind racing.
With a sudden burst of movement, she turned and sprinted, her boots pounding against the stone. Rinval laughed, his footsteps calm and unhurried as he followed.
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Zeph dived into an open chamber, then slammed and barred its wooden door. Where is that acolyte? I need ammunition.
"Rhody!" she called out, her breathing coming faster. Her bloodied blouse clung tight to her skin as she rummaged the room for any sort of advantage.
Rinval’s voice seeped beneath the door, low and steady. “Well, that was easy. You'll find that room doesn't have any other exits. You planning to bleed out in there?” He paused for a moment, "Huh?!"
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Rhody rushed through the keep, skidding to a stop at the edge of a junction. Her breath hitched as she pressed herself against the cold stone wall. She peeked cautiously around the corner. Zeph's assailant leaned against a wall, his porcelain mask leveled at a wooden cube he was working with his hands, twisting and reorienting sections of it. His unreadable visage and shimmering polearm sent a chill down Rhody's spine.
Her hand darted to the red pouch hanging from her neck, fingers fumbling as she pulled out her Royal Tarot Deck. Her hands trembled as she quickly shuffled it, whispering a silent prayer to steady herself before drawing a card.
She turned it over, her breath catching. On its face, a hand descended from the heavens, holding a golden chalice overflowing with crystal-clear water. He's an Ace of Cups, the trump to Zeph’s Ace of Swords. If they fight, Zeph'll have an uphill battle.
Her heart sank like a stone.
Her mind raced, panic twisting through her chest. She scanned the hall, desperate for a solution, and her eyes landed on a doorway leading to a chamber adjacent to Zeph’s. An idea formed in her mind, shaky but solid enough to cling to.
Moving as silently as she could with her oversized pack, Rhody trudged into the room and inspected the wall between her and the assassin. She could hear Zeph's labored breathing, searching for it, she spotted a small, paper-thin crack in the mortar. “Zeph,” she whispered. “It’s me. I’m here.”
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Inside, Zeph froze at the faint sound of Rhody’s voice filtering through the wall. “Rhody!” She felt an ounce of relief that quickly flooded out her gushing chest wound.
Ablee leaned casually against the chamber's other wall, dripping with a fresh coat of stony paint. “That your kid?” she asked, her tone laced with curiosity and a hint of mischief.
Zeph spun, trying to spot the intrusive voice's source, Applause's barrel tracking with her eyes. Ablee waved a camouflaged hand, drawing Zeph's gaze, "Yoohoo!"
"How'd you get in here? Where's the hidden passage?" Zeph demanded, trying to relay a calm demeanor. Her empty revolver leveled at the girl.
Ablee laughed, "Closed behind me..."
"Bullshit, tell me, now!" A twinge crawled across Zeph's cheek, coaxed by her screaming shoulder.
Ablee treaded toward her and said, "Alright, fine, there's no secret door. I swam through that wall," gesturing behind her.
Zeph groaned, pinching the bridge of her nose with her free hand. "Why do I find that more believable?" she asked herself, "If you don't have an exit for me, what are you doing here?"
"You were putting on a good show until that jackalope Rinval got involved," Ablee scratches her chin, "You're here to kill my dad, right?"
"Your Dad?" Zeph said, and the revelation hit her. She drops into a low stance, "One more step, and I'll shoot."
Ablee continued her advance, "That's not going to happen. Plus it'd be pretty dumb, I don't want to stop you."
"You... huh? I'm going to kill your Dad!" Zeph squinted, trying to get a read on the girl.
Ablee nodded, her cheeks rising in a smirk, "He's got it coming. Though now I'm not sure you and your kid are up to it; you're looking a bit pale."
Zeph stumbled and then righted herself, "I'm fine." she said through gritted teeth, frustration bleeding into her voice.
Ablee pointed to her shoulder, "Let me see it."
Hesitant, Zeph sighed and then holstered Applause. She popped the top two buttons of her blouse and lowered it, revealing her shoulders. A thin line along the top right of her chest pumped gushes of crimson. Ablee approached her, palm extended. "Don't freak out," she said and laid it flat to the unblemished skin on the other side of Zeph's chest. It rippled, and Zeph's eyes widened as Ablee's hand pushed forward, disappearing beneath its surface. Ablee yanked it back out, coated in silky white paint matching Zeph's skin tone. "Wha-what in the-" Zeph stammered.
Ablee rolled her eyes and smeared the paint along Zeph's stab wound, leaving behind a patch of wet, fresh skin, "That should hold you for a little bit."
Zeph’s eyes narrowed as she studied Ablee, deeply suspicious. The girl’s painted form shimmered in the dim light, the stone coating on her skin lending her an otherworldly presence. The number of people Zeph trusts is equal to the number of rounds Applause can chamber.
However, she could use this girl. "You said you can swim through walls?"
"Yep! What you got in mind?" Ablee asked, "I can't take you with me. You're going to have to walk out that door..."
"My acolyte, behind that wall. She's got ammunition that I need."
"Oh, yeah no problem!" Without waiting for further instruction, Ablee stepped into the wall, leaving no trace behind her.
Zeph stared at the now-empty space. Propping herself against a nearby dresser, she took a moment to weigh her options. This girl was reckless, sure, but there was no denying she was capable. Zeph didn't like working with wildcards, but the situation left her little choice.
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Rhody’s Royal Tarot Deck weighed heavily in her trembling hands. Her wide eyes fixed on the figure stepping through the wall. Ablee looked like a polished statue. This has to be the yammering brat we heard on our climb. The voices are the same...
Rhody instinctively drew a card. Turning it over, the face shimmered gold—a radiant, unreadable enigma. Her breath hitched. The girl was a rank she was unable to read. Her heart sank at the implications. What the hell is she?
Ablee caught sight of Rhody’s stunned expression and grinned, her teeth flashing in the dim light. “What?” she teased, crossing her arms with casual confidence. “Never seen a walking wall before?”
Rhody swallowed hard, her throat dry. “You’re… One of the Urough kids?”
At the sound of her last name, Ablee’s grin faltered, her eyes narrowing slightly. Her tone, once playful, turned sharp. “Yeah, Ablee Urough. What’s it to you?”
Rhody’s thoughts went to Zeph’s logbook, tucked in the bulging pack she carried. Her mind raced. Ablee’s name was scrawled clearly among the list of marks, a future target that Zeph was slated to eliminate. The realization sent a shiver down Rhody’s spine, but she put on her best poker face, tucking the revelation away for later. Her hands tightened around the deck, her expression neutral as she forced herself to focus.
“Nothing,” Rhody said after a pause, her voice quieter now. “Just… heard stories.”
Ablee’s grin returned. “Yeah, I bet! You heard the witch, right? Gimme the bullets.” she held out her palm.
Rhody nodded and reached into one of her pack's outer pockets. She pulled out a small wooden box with "44 Magnum" inked on its lid and handed it to Ablee. The pressure of the situation weighed on her—not just the imminent danger, but the presence of this strange girl whose name lingered ominously in Zeph’s logbook.
Ablee gave her a curt nod before stepping back toward the wall. “Be ready to act quick, card girl,” Ablee said with a smirk. “Your boss over there doesn’t seem the patient type.”
Without another word, she vanished into the stone, leaving Rhody clutching her deck and trying to piece together what came next.
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Ablee strode back into Zeph's chamber, her stone-coated form gleaming faintly in the flickering torchlight. She held up the box, "If I hand these over, you promise not to shoot my Daddy..." Zeph's face reddened, preparing to lambast this moron she'd trusted, but Ablee continued, "...until I've knocked his teeth out!"