Chapter 4 - The Blade and the Shadow
The four Shadow-Claws moved with unnatural, unnatural speed, melting into the dark corners of the courtyard and reappearing behind Elara in a coordinated strike.
Elara did not flinch. Years of royal martial training combined with the newly awakened celestial energy within her blood made her movements fluid and deadly. She ducked beneath the first assassin’s blade, spinning on her heel to drive her fire-infused sword straight through his chest plate. The assassin howled as golden light consumed him from the inside out, reducing him to ash.
The remaining three assassins lunged simultaneously. Elara raised her left hand, projecting a shield of hard light that deflected their poisoned daggers. The small Phoenix flew from her shoulder, expanding into a mid-sized bird of fire that tackled the second assassin, dragging him screaming into the freezing sky before dropping him over the cliff edge.
Elara parried a swift strike from the third shadow, locking blades with the lead assassin.
"She will never reach Oakhaven!" the lead assassin sneered behind his iron mask. "Captain Malakor has already set sail with half our fleet to blockade the port! The girl will be in chains before the week ends!"
"Then I will tear your fleet apart," Elara growled.
She channeled a sudden wave of thermal magic through her blade, shattering the assassin’s dark steel daggers. Before he could recover, she drove her hand into his chest, unleashing a targeted burst of solar energy that melted his armor and sent him crashing dead into the snow.
Silence descended upon the ruined monastery once more.
Elara stood panting in the freezing air, her weapon dripping with molten steel. She could not afford to rest. Oakhaven was a five-day march across dangerous, monster-infested marshlands, but if Malakor’s fleet had already closed in, her daughter was in mortal danger.
She summoned the Phoenix back to her arm. "We go to Oakhaven," she commanded softly.
As she turned to leave the bloodstained monastery, her eye caught a glint of gold hidden under High Priest Vaelen’s bloodied robes. She knelt and pulled out a small, ornate leather pouch. Inside was a silver medallion carved with the image of a rising sun—a key to the ancient royal vaults hidden beneath the capital—and a small, folded piece of parchment written in child's handwriting.
Elara unfolded the letter with trembling hands.
Dear Mother, Sister Theresa says you are sleeping in a far-off place, but that one day the sun will wake you up. I draw this picture of us so you don't forget me.
Beneath the words was a crude drawing of two figures holding hands beneath a giant, golden bird.
May you like
Tears spilled over Elara's eyelids, dropping onto the parchment. She pressed the letter to her chest, feeling her heart ignite with a fierce, unstoppable resolve.
"I am coming, Lyra," she swore to the night wind. "Mama is coming."
