This book is record that a great warrior once lived where she has now disappeared. How she met her end is unknown to all but myself.
As her student, Farran so often said to me, “The end is merely the beginning,” and after being alongside her for so long, I truly believe these words to be truth.
—
In a world of twin suns and triplet moons, the darkness pressed on my every side. The study room was dank. The candlelight was small. The silver eyes of my grandfather silenced the room. He sat in a lavish chair with a tall back, holding a neat paper between his two wrinkled hands. His fingers pressed whiter with rage the longer he read the contents.
This was the year XX13; and as Grandfather read deeper into my report, the changing of leaves plunged further into the cold of disappointment. As a seasoned enforcer raised in Nightshade bonds, what I had done was unspeakable. I had failed my mission.
In all my seven years as an enforcer, I had received top marks. I had to receive top marks. “Anything less would be a disgrace,” as Grandfather so oft reminded me. Don’t ask me why.
As he reached the last page of my report, every muscle of mine screamed to escape for the door, but I knew it was futile. The door was locked.
It was always locked.
Grandfather’s silver eyes glinted maliciously in the candlelight. When he spoke, it was a single, frosty word that spilled from his tongue in a dark, humourless manner.
“Explain.”
I swallowed nervously and stuttered my reply. “I was caught and deceived, sir. I—”
“Enough,” he interrupted without a look in my direction. My mouth shut tight, and I bit my tongue in the process. Pain did not comfort me. It never comforted me.
He spoke again. “Count yourself lucky the Nightshades were able to clean up your mess before things got,” he glanced at me pointedly, “out of hand.”
The weight of his stare pressed down on my chest, and I immediately looked away. My weathered boots were a better sight anyway—not that I ever had the guts to say that to his face.
A deep breath rattled in Grandfather’s chest as he leaned back in his chair. His gaze was frozen in disappointment. “In three days’ time, as originally planned, you will embark for Alizha. I have your enrolment papers for the University here,” he said before stashing my report in a deep desk drawer. Then he revealed a scroll wrapped in a stately ribbon from within another pocket of darkness attached to that blocky desk of his.
He liked large things.
“While you’re over there, do not embarrass me. If you graduate with anything less than an astral-white degree, consider yourself a disgrace to the Sylver name,” he hesitated before adding, “and the Nightshades.”
I didn’t miss that hesitation. It almost warmed my heart knowing that Grandfather was just as bound to the Nightshades as I was. The entire family was bound to them, and no one escaped them.
“Take this as well,” Grandfather’s voice dragged me from my thoughts. Opening another drawer, he brought out a tiny black box and a sealed envelope and set them on the desk centre. There was an awkward silence between us as I waited permission to approach. I remained where I stood—continuing to study the lovely creases and folds on my leather boots—and then I felt the piercing heat of his silver eyes.
Timidly, I stepped forward from my distant place against the wall, collected the three items, and then returned to my position. I never met his eyes once. Some time passed where it seemed that Grandfather was appraising me, studying whatever it was he wanted to study.
The truth behind those voidless silver eyes would be a mystery to me for a few months more.
“Dismissed,” his command rattled deep in his chest. The little servant boy stationed outside the room unlocked the door in reply and I resisted every urge to race out of the study like a panicked child. Fighting to keep my composure, I exited the room without a second thought and then proceeded to speedwalk the hallways like a window shopper with no money.
Turning corner after corner, I ran throughout the mansion halls for the safety of my room—never slowing down unless I heard the chattering of maids or the heavy footfalls of butlers. When I passed the various servants, their eyes betrayed their true mission. They were Nightshade servants first, not Sylver. They were here to keep watch of the residents, which at this moment was my grandfather and me.
When the familiar form of my bedroom came into view, my spirit leaped for joy. I dashed through the open doorway and hastily swung the door behind me—stopping just shy of the latch and closing it without a sound. Resting against the wooden door, a long-held breath escaped me and unfettered a poorly suppressed emotion of mine. Cursed tears threatened to wet my cheeks in retaliation.
Why are you acting like it’s safe, Farran? I thought as I set my head back, looking at the ceiling. Your parents are gone. Your brother is gone. All you have left is your tyrant of a grandfather and the Nightshades. This is all the life you’ll ever know.
My blues turned to red ire as I raged, and I chucked the three items I held aimlessly toward my bed with a guttural scream. When the tiny black box I threw sprung up from my mattress and bounced around erratically, I felt a flicker of amusement—but only a flicker.
After the box settled down, I chuckled dryly. Liquid tears perched upon my lashes and awaited the world below, but they feared to fall upon my face. I couldn’t remember the last time I had truly cried. With a deep, controlling breath, I pressed my hands into my eyes, and let go of the emotions I felt.
Nothing is going to change anyway, so stop crying, I chided myself.
With plodding steps, I turned and sat on the edge of my bed. I looked at my boots. I looked at my swords resting behind the door. I looked at my sad collection of clothes in the closet. After the moment of silence, I looked for where the tiny black box had settled and moved to open it.
A pair of stud earrings so red that they looked black rested upon a tiny ivory pillow. One had a chain-linked cuff and the other was set with a shining garnet—or so they appeared at first glance. The pair of unassuming devices were banned after the Reuze Laws were enacted after the Purge five hundred years ago. Not that any of this applied to me. One of the perks of being under the rule of the Nightshades was getting access to illegal items, I supposed.
I set the devices in my ears and attached the cuff to my lobe as if it was the most natural thing in the world. Rednails were devices assigned to most recon and assassination missions.
But with every mission, it was hit or miss how many targets I would be assigned. After my failure to complete the last one-target mission, I was hoping for something easy. When I opened the envelope and read the title “Hit List” I felt my heart physically drop in my chest.
I growled furiously under my breath and flopped backwards onto my bed. Seriously? This is the mission I get after failing? I can really feel the sympathy for my emotions here, oh benevolent Nightshades. I bet you don’t even know what torture your little pawns are going through, do you?
I venomously studied the lines creasing the ceiling until another thought occurred to me, cold and foreboding: Isn’t it usual practice for a failed enforcer to get punished before getting another mission first?
The thought lingered uncomfortably in my mind before I recalled Grandfather’s words, “as originally planned,” I would go to the University. So perhaps I would get punished after completion of the hitlist instead.
It seemed like a rather cruel practice, but it also seemed to fit with my image of the Nightshades, so I tried my best to think about something other than my impending punishment of elestrels-know-what. While I struggled to force my mind to focus on other things, the next three days passed.
They were spent in relative boredom, leaving the safety of my room only for training or some fresh air on the beach, but the thought of punishment lingered in the back of my mind like an unshakeable nest of fear.
On the third day, a cacophony of squawks startled me awake. The crescent aves were ready to migrate to Alizha and they weren’t going to wait for some loping teenager to get her things together. Luckily for me, since I was focused on preoccupying myself, I had been packed since day one.
I tossed my bed sheets aside, swapped my nightgown for my only casual set of clothes, and then gathered a few extra bits and bobs into my satchel. I slowed down only to tenderly grab my swords, gently strap them onto either side of my snap-away belt, and then bolted out the door with renewed vigour. With the mansion behind me, I raced across the grass toward the shore.
Stable ground suddenly turned to soft sand and my boots were instantly swallowed by the grainy substance in my haste. I lurched forward and madly threw my arms around—but salvation was a vain thought.
I fell face first. Dusty grey sand kicked up and billowed around me like a laughing choir and then settled like a blanket upon my head. Well, that was an experience. Good going, Farran. Nice job, so proud, I thought peevishly.
Spitting out sand and making futile attempts to wipe my face clean, I caught sight of the group of gathered aves a short distance away by the water’s edge. The number of them was much too small and I knew they wouldn’t start migrating for a while yet.
Bitter about my rude awakening, I sighed heavily, picked myself up, and brushed off the sand from my clothes. Setting my satchel over my shoulder, I walked to the water’s edge. Cradled upon the beach sand, a small wooden vessel awaited me.
The speeder, as it was called, was narrow like a canoe but sported a powerful engine of a deceptively small size. As I settled into the speeder, the crescent aves around me giggled and squawked as more of their feathered family joined them for the long journey. Every time a new group landed on the shore, they would all scream in joy at the sight of new members.
It was annoying.
The dark rumblings of the Veil caught my attention. After a big yawn attempting to shake off sleep’s sweet caress, I studied the pitch-black clouds. Far into the ocean and never crossing over land, the eternal storm rumbled and howled with thunder and lightning. Streaks of harsh light glowed ominously upon the ever glassy and calm ocean below. It was always a sight to behold—the raging Veil above the peaceful waters. The stark contrast between them was probably the topic of many poems and literary works.
During my musings, silence settled over the flock of white aves. I retrieved the oar from beside my feet and stuck it into the sand behind me. The feathered creatures raised their jet-black wings in preparation. In answer, I pushed off the beachside as hard as I could, and the flock took to the skies in a flurry of black and white.
Hundreds of wings spanned the length of the twilight sky. Like a mighty battalion, the aves charged straight towards the Veil and parted the clouds as though they possessed some mystical power. The frightful storm peeled away from the valiant crescent gulls and a wound of twilight morning filled the air. From between the dividing clouds, fresh sunslight glowed on their white feathers like fire and smouldered like dying embers upon their black wings.
The twin suns—now visible through the wound in the sky—blessed the air with their warmth and light. I had nearly forgotten to start my speeder’s engine as I watched the spectacle unfold. Quickly pulling the switch, I set my hand upon the handle and launched out into the ocean. Once I was cruising along the glassy surface of the ocean waters, I let my mind wander once more.
I listened to the soft feathered flap of wings over the harsh scream of the speeder’s engine. I watched the soft glow of the two suns as they died beneath the clouds. I studied the pale form of the three moons as they strengthened in the night. I gazed at the stars as they lit our path to the island of Alizha and I pondered why the mighty Veil always split before the migration of aves. In the chilly night air, my mind wandered away from the Nightshades and from my beloved tyrant of a grandfather.
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