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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/1073956-Ashborn
Rated: 13+ · Fiction · Action/Adventure · #1073956
Two girls on opposite sides of a military conflict must work together to survive.
         The minute the strange girl entered his crowded bar, Randen Kelseck knew he was in trouble. She was only about five feet tall, but as she approached the bar Randen felt as if he was smaller than her. She had long brown hair pulled into a braid that reached her hips. She was wearing pants and a long black coat-unusual for a girl her age. As she turned her gaze on Randen, he felt a chill go up his spine. It was as if her big gray eyes were looking into his soul.

         She grimaced, and Randen got the impression that she wasn’t pleased with whatever she had found inside of him. “You are Randen Kelseck?” she asked. He started to say yes, but she cut him off. “Of course you are. My name is Arley Nadir and I represent the High Guard of Paluge.” She pulled back her coat. Underneath she was wearing a white long-sleeved shirt. Inscribed on the upper left side was the symbol of the High Guard, a wolf howling at a full moon.

         Randen swore violently. “What did I do?”
         “You’ve been visited by the Lyjna, haven’t you?”
         “No, of course not! I don’t consort with cowards like them!” Randen’s heart caught in his throat as Arley leaned across the bar.
         “Let me tell you something, Mr. Kelseck.” Her voice was hard and cold. “I’m only the first step. If you don’t cooperate, you’ll have more visits from the High Guard. My superiors wouldn’t like having to come all the way down here to see you. Trust me. I’m one of the nice ones.” Randen believed her.

         He swallowed. “Alright, alright. Don’t do anything to me, please! I didn’t have a choice!”
         “What happened, Mr. Kelseck?” Arley’s tone softened some, and he felt a little bit of the tension run out of him.
         “You were right. I was visited by a Lyjna. She didn’t tell me her name, but she said she was a captain, of sorts.”
         “The Knights,” hissed Arley, her eyes flaring in anger. Randen’s heart lurched with fear, but he continued.
         “Yes. She wanted me to contact my. . . more shady clients, set up meetings.”
         “And did you?”
         “I only managed to set up two meetings between her and my clients.”
         “You will write down the times and places of these meetings, as well as anything about this girl you remember. If you do so accurately, you will not be punished for your treason against the throne of Paluge. However, if you give me false information I will personally see to your lifelong imprisonment. Or worse. Is that understood?”
         “Yes, ma’am.”

******


         Braelyn stood with her arms crossed as the ocean water lapped up against her feet. She sighed as she gazed out over the sparkling water, getting the feeling that it would be a long time before she saw it again. She was solidly built, with the toned muscles of a soldier. Her dirty blond hair, which was streaked with blue highlights, flowed down to her shoulders. She was currently in civilian clothes and bare feet. She had sunk down to her ankles in the wet sand on the shore, showing that she had been standing in that exact spot for hours.

         “What’s this about Raynor sending you on another mission?” demanded an angry voice behind her. She didn’t move an inch.
         “How did you find out, Tage?” Braelyn kept her gaze on the far horizon, where kestrels swooped in front of the sinking sun.
         “You’re not going!” Tage grabbed her by the shoulders and spun her around to face him. His dark brown eyes were full of worry and fear as he shook her slightly. “Where is he sending you?”
         Braelyn raised her head slowly to look up at her brother. He stood at almost exactly six feet, five inches taller than her. His short, spiky brown hair was dyed orange at the tips, and he was dressed in his full uniform. The dark, shiny armor glinted red in the dying light as he shook her again.
         “Where is he sending you?”
         “I can’t tell you, Tage. You know that most of my missions are top secret.”
         “You just got back from a mission. He has no right to send you out into the field again!”

         Braelyn’s eyes were usually a bright green, but now they were dark and full of sadness. “He has every right. He is the emperor, and I follow his orders.”
         “You haven’t even been back for a full day! He’s going to wear you out, and then you’ll be useless to the Knights.”
         “Tage . . . I can’t back out of this mission. I accepted it months ago, and now is the only time to complete it.”
         “But . . .why? What’s so important that it can’t wait for a few days? Just long enough so that you can recuperate.”
         “I’m sorry. I can’t tell you. I have to leave soon.”
         Tage knew it was no use trying to change her mind any further. “Fine. But you be careful, okay?”

         She smiled sadly. “Of course.” Tage reached down and caught her in a hug. She wished that she could stay like that forever, safe in her big brother’s strong arms.
         “Now isn’t this sweet?” A sharp voice cut through the moment, and Tage groaned.
         “What are you doing here, Malchior?”
         Malchior ignored him. “It’s time to go, Braelyn. Unless you’re backing out? I would be honored to complete the mission in your place.”
         Tage growled deep in his throat. “Of course she’s not!” He stepped right in front of Malchior, and the thin man cringed slightly despite himself. “Brae is the bravest Knight of them all!”

         Malchior twisted his long, bleached white hair absently. “You have your own duties, Captain, do you not? I suggest you get back to work before I report you to the emperor.” He smirked as Tage gritted his teeth in frustration.
         “Just go, Tage. I’ll see you when I get back, okay?” Braelyn intervened quickly.
         “Be careful,” said Tage tightly, his eyes never leaving Malchior. Then he turned and walked away.
         “That brother of yours is going to get himself killed one of these days if he keeps up with that mouth,” said Malchior after a moment.
         “He’s just concerned about me,” said Braelyn defensively.
         “Yeah, whatever. You ready?”
         Braelyn looked over the ocean one last time and sighed again. “I suppose.”


         Assassins are supposed to be fearless. That’s what had been pounded into Pel Hakkalah's mind since he was a young boy. But now, as Pel stood waiting in the dark forest, a deep sense of foreboding came over him. He shouldn’t have come. His contact was over a half-hour late, and Pel was starting to feel uneasy. There was a rustling nearby and he started in surprise.
         “Time to get outta here,” he muttered as the unfamiliar sensation of fear gripped his heart. He turned and jerked again, this time staggering back into a thick tree.

         “Going somewhere?” asked the young girl that had seemingly materialized in front of him. “And I was so looking forward to our meeting, Pel.”
         “Are…are…are…” stuttered Pel, still in shock.
         “Braelyn. I represent the Lyjna in my emperor’s place.” Then her head snapped to the left and she stared into the woods. Pel started to say something, but she held up a hand and he fell silent.
         Pel squirmed slightly with impatience. “What is it?”
         The Knight shook her head. “I don’t know, must have been an animal. I could have sworn I heard something, though.”
         Pel decided he really, really wanted to get out of there. “Right, well, sorry, but-” The next thing he knew, he was on the ground. His eyes were clouding, and he could barely make out several dark figures. He heard a scuffle and then the sound of something being dragged. Someone grabbed him and began pulling him along the ground. The world slowed down further until he finally blacked out.

         Braelyn ended up on her knees on a cold, hard marble floor. Her hands were tied tightly behind her back. In front of her were a man and woman, both seated on thrones, surrounded by guards and advisors. She guessed that there were fifty guards in all. Way too many, even for a Knight.
         She remembered her briefing before the mission. The monarchs of Paluge were relatively young. The king, Lathan, was the second born in the Saberano line. His older brother had died fighting the Lyjna just after his mother died of old age. He was a very passive king, simply carrying on what his mother and brother had started ten years before. His only passion was ending the war with the Lyjna. A kind man, his only bad trait seemed to be his fiery temper, which could be provoked quite easily.
         His wife was named Vierra, and she was the daughter of a wealthy duke. She was relatively unknown to their spies, keeping to herself and staying out of royal matters for the most part.

         “What is your name, child?” asked the king, not unkindly.
         “I’m not a child, I’m seventeen,” whispered the captain hatefully.
         “What did you say?” demanded Lathan.
         “I said, ‘I’m not a child’,” Braelyn repeated calmly and clearly. “Maybe you should get your ears checked, old man.”
         The king blinked and his wife, Vierra, covered her mouth in surprise. “How dare you speak to me like that!” exclaimed King Lathan angrily. He stood, his huge robes swirling around his feet, and marched down to her.
         Braelyn stood before her guards could push her back down. “We will take your pathetic little kingdom,” she snarled, her face contorted into an ugly mask of hate. “And when we do, I’ll personally shove a knife down your throat. Maybe my Emperor will find a different use for your pretty wife there.” She cocked her head at the queen and smiled slightly.

         The king lost his short temper. “You don’t know what you have just done, girl! You will tell me everything you know before you die. And then you will beg for mercy, on your knees in front of all of this little kingdom. But you will die all the same, and I’ll make sure it lasts for a long, long time.” This rant ended with the king’s face inches from Braelyn’s ear, and Vierra was standing and watching her husband curiously. The captain could imagine what was running through her mind. A young girl, captive, alone, and the king was only human. She smirked slightly. Whatever the queen thought, Lathan was looking at her with so much distaste that it was almost palpable. It didn’t bother Braelyn. She had gotten that look before, and this wasn’t the first time it was because she shot off her mouth to the wrong person.
         Finally the king backed away, his eyes still locked on her. “Take her to the dungeon. I’ll deal with her later.”
         “Sir!” The guard tugged on her gently, and she allowed him to lead her away. Now that she was in place, she had to pick her fights carefully. Acting too rebelliously would get her killed prematurely, but acting too complacent would be suspicious. This mission had to be completed very delicately, and Braelyn was just the girl to do it.


Hope you liked it! It’s still in its early stages, so I just wanted some feedback from you all! Please rate or review, thanks!
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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/1073956-Ashborn