Alaith

The Assassin who Smiles

Aliath and Bitrus stood in silence as they stared into the empty space upon which the inn had rested, both unsure of what had transpired. Both looked at each other for answers as the all-important question resounded within Bitrus’s barrier – what the hell just happened?

“Have you seen magic like this before?” Bitrus asked. Aliath was considered an expert in magic despite many believing that he was incapable of casting magic himself.

“No. This is a first for me too. My guesses are we’re either trapped in an illusion, or someone transported this entire inn in an instant. And I can say for a fact that we’re not under an illusion,” Aliath replied.

“Is that even possible? To move something so big instantly?”

“I don’t know. But one thing is for sure, this does not spell the beginning of good things,” Aliath said.

The two continued on their journey as there was little left for them in Khaloran. The heavy winds made it impossible to investigate the area without dropping Bitrus’s barrier, and any traces that remained would most likely have been swept off by the winds. Aliath peeked behind him one last time. An unsettling feeling he felt, unable to discern what exactly it was. But there was nothing for them there, so the pair continued on their way.

Far within the sands, two figures stood, watching as the pair grew farther from them, unable to discern their existence.

“He is unlike the rumours,” one of them said. He was wrapped in a heavy cloak to shield him away from the heavy winds, as was his partner.

“He might have noticed us, Arwoth,” Hela, the second of the two said.

“Coincidence perhaps. Even the mighty hero Bitrus didn’t. And it appears he is the only capable one of the two. I’ll send word to lord Ravaan. Aliath is not to be feared. The five will take care of him.”

***

Aliath and Bitrus avoided any detours on the way as they arrived at the capital as quickly as they could. The gates of the capital stood at least 30m tall, fully plated in gold – an expense many believed to be a sheer extravagance, while others regarded it as both a show of Edvan’s wealth and a form of defence for the capital. For Aliath, it was a 30m mirror that reflected his magnificence. Not only could he see himself in the mirror, but it was his idea to build the capital gates in that manner. Many assumed that he would simply conjure one with magic despite the sheer impossibility of it, but Aliath requested that they built the gates from real gold.

“Ah yes, one of my greatest creations,” Aliath goaded as he relished in the sight of his reflection on the polished golden gates.

“Master, not to doubt your immense abilities, but can you really conjure gold?” Bitrus asked.

“Of course not. That’s dark magic,” Aliath responded.

“But are you capable of it?” Bitrus asked one more time.

“Anyone is capable of dark magic, Bitrus. It just depends on what you’re willing to sacrifice,” Aliath said with a coldness that made Bitrus wish he hadn’t asked that question.

Aliath relished in the honour and praise that was often showered upon him within the capital. His walk to the palace was filled with well-wishers who were delighted for their safe return, or as many truly felt – Bitrus’s safe return. Aliath was aware of this, but he took delight in waving back at all the joyful people who had come to welcome them. The knights made sure their path was safe, keeping people from getting too close even though the two were known to be more than capable of protecting themselves.

The royal castle was the more was the most fortified place in all of Edvan, and understandably so. Its wall was 20m tall, smaller than the capital’s gate, but with a fortified barrier that covered the entire surrounding area. Aliath and Bitrus made their way to the throne room. The guards let Aliath and Bitrus in after announcing their presence to the emperor who was expecting them. The pair walked in to see that the emperor already had company. At the far end of the room, on a raised dais, sat the emperor – Emperor Kanath Edvan on his throne. Aliath recognised most of the people in the room. So did Bitrus, However, there was one face he did not expect to see so soon – Hela.

“Welcome back, Aliath. We have so much to discuss,” the emperor said.

***

A desolate fiendish darkness enveloped the air, with only the screams of people piercing through the silent night. The reddish colour of blood struggled to break free of the night’s hold as the blood of those who had met their end at the hands of Kelleher drained the streets of its purity. As the night reached its peak, it became devoid of the screams that had brought it to life, a sign that life no longer existed in that town. From the darkness, a figure emerged. His hands were red with blood and his face wore a smile so bright that it could be seen from miles away.

“What brings you all the way, my lord?” the man asked as he noticed a figure behind him.

“I have a job for you. Perhaps I caught you at a bad time?” the man asked, his physical appearance shrouded in the darkness of the night.

“Not at all, lord Arwoth. Now who is this unlucky soul,” Kelleher replied, his wide smile clear on his face.

“Aliath Renan,” Arwoth said.

For the first time in a long time, Kelleher’s smile slowly faded, bringing back a memory he had buried deep in his subconscious. “Did I offend you, my lord?” Kelleher asked, his face grimmer than death itself, but Arwoth remained silent. “Why would you send me to a gruesome death?” Kelleher added.

“You believe the rumours?” Arwoth asked.

“I have seen them with my own eyes. I can tell you one thing. Aliath is proof that death is real and a reminder that all things come to an end.”