Eryshae

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Vael

The door creaked open on old iron hinges. Vael stepped into the moonlight, the air cool against her skin after the cloistered heat of Emberhold's interior. She let the door fall shut behind her, soft but final, as if closing one world to fully enter another.

The grove outside Emberhold sat in silence, hushed as if the trees themselves were holding their breath. Moonlight caught on the edges of Vael's blade as she traced the tip through the dirt; carving a rough sketch of the Eberflame estate. But her eyes weren't on the map. They were on Mira.

Mira hadn't spoken in minutes. She stood like a shadow behind her, arms crossed, eyes far away. "You said you had access," Vael said. "Which wing is the Amber kept in?" Mira's voice was soft. "It's not in a vault, not in any wing."

Vael looked up. "It's in his study," Mira continued. "He hasn't left that room since he got it. Sleeps there. Eats there. Reads there. Sometimes he just… stares at it." Vael frowned. "Why?"

"Because it's not just power," Mira said. "To him, it's proof. Of everything he's ever believed. Everything he's willing to break the world for." Vael stood slowly, wiping her blade clean on her sleeve. "So the one thing that might bring Sam back is sitting in the hands of a man who's losing his mind worshipping it."

Mira flinched, just barely. "I have to tell you something," she said suddenly. Vael turned, knife still in hand. "What now?" Mira hesitated. Her voice came quieter than before. "Ruwan… didn't just send me to spy. He gave me one last order. The moment Sam died; I was to take you. Chain you. Bring you to him."

A long silence. Vael didn't move. Her breath came slowly, deliberately. Her eyes fixed on Mira like the stillness before a storm. "And why am I standing here?"

"Because I didn't do it," Mira said, her voice trembling. "I saw the way you ran to him. How you held him. I saw his hand reach for you even as he fell. And I; I couldn't."

"You've done everything else he's asked," Vael said. Mira nodded once. "But not this. I couldn't give him you." The wind stirred the trees overhead. "Why tell me now?" Vael asked. "Because we can't afford secrets anymore," Mira said. "Not if we're going to take the Amber. Not if we're going to bring Sam back." Vael stepped forward, blade lowered but not sheathed. "You betrayed us."

"I did."

"You spied. Planted the sliver of amber."

"I did."

"And still you're here," Vael said, voice low, voice tight. Mira met her gaze without flinching. "And I will help you make it right." Vael looked back down at the map scratched in dirt. The angles. The arches. The old bloodlines hiding behind gilded doors.

Vael looked up from the dirt, eyes sharp. "So we have to get into the one room he never leaves." Mira gave a half-hearted scoff. "Might as well walk straight into the lion's mouth." Vael stood. Slowly. Thoughtfully. She brushed the dirt from her hands, then stared out across the moonlit trees.

"Maybe that's exactly what we do." Mira blinked. "What?" Vael turned to face her. "He wants me in chains, doesn't he? Kneeling. Broken. A prize." Mira paled. "Vael."

"Let's give him what he wants," Vael said, voice firm, eyes burning with something dangerous. "Me. In chains. At his feet."

"Are you mad?" Mira stepped closer. "He'll; he'll kill you. Or worse."

"No," Vael said. "He won't. Not right away. Not if I'm the victory he's been waiting for. He'll gloat. Monologue. Give you room to move. While he's looking at me…" Mira stared at her, horrified. "You want to use yourself as bait."

"I want Sam back, and this is our only option," Vael said. "And if that's the only way to get close to the Amber, I'll walk into the lion's mouth and cut my way out of it." Silence fell. Then Mira dropped her gaze. "You'd risk everything for him." Vael's jaw tightened. "He already gave everything for us."

Mira's voice came quietly, almost breaking. "And if we fail?" Vael didn't hesitate. "Then I'll make sure he never gets the chance to gloat again." The fire cracked softly. Mira exhaled, shaking her head. "You're brave. Or foolish."

"Both," Vael replied. "But I'm not helpless. Not anymore." Mira met her gaze. And nodded. "For Sam," they said, in unison.

Inside the stone-walled changing alcove beneath the Emberhold outpost, the air was thick with anticipation. Torchlight flickered across the curtained walls, casting long shadows over weapons racks and folded linens. The silence was not empty; it was heavy with breath, purpose, and unspoken memory.

Vael stood before a warped mirror, pulling the black corset snug around her ribs. She breathed once, let it out, and tied the last strap down tight. The material hugged her like second skin; skintight, functional, shadow-swallowing. Over her legs, she wore obsidian-toned tights; flexible enough to sprint, tough enough to take a fall. On her feet, soft-soled shoes, built for silence.

"Turn," Mira said quietly behind her. Vael turned. Mira was already dressed in her assassin's gear: dark charcoal leathers sewn with layered panels, blades hidden in the folds, a hood draped down her back. She was checking a curved knife at her ankle, her movements smooth from a thousand repetitions.

A case of literary theft: this tale is not rightfully on Amazon; if you see it, report the violation.

She approached Vael with an armful of crimson; deep, muted, almost black in low light. "You'll need the ceremonial edge," she said. "It'll make you look like a gift and a threat." Vael lifted her arms without a word, and Mira wrapped the dark red cloth around her torso and hips, layering it over the corset, fastening it with silent buckles and clasped bands of steel. Mira's hands paused at Vael's waist. "You still sure?"

"No," Vael whispered. "But that's never stopped me before." Mira's jaw twitched, but she nodded. She moved to a weapons drawer and pulled free a pair of hidden-blade vambraces. "These go beneath the sleeves," she said, fastening them to Vael's wrists. "Flick your wrists like this; " she demonstrated, and the blade snapped out with a whisper of steel. "Don't hesitate. If we're wrong… you'll only have seconds."

Vael tested the movement. "I won't hesitate." Mira helped secure a garrote wire inside a crimson sash and a curved dagger down the side of Vael's thigh. Her touch was precise but never cold; deliberate, respectful. "We'll have one chance," Mira said. "If Ruwan hears us too soon, if the guard gets alerted, he'll vanish into the lower tunnels. And if he does…"

"We lose the Amber," Vael finished. "And Sam," Mira added softly. Vael met her eyes. "Not tonight." The two women stared at one another for a long, weightless moment. Not allies born of trust; but of purpose. Of penance. Of fire tempered by loss.

Just before they stepped into the corridor, Mira reached into a velvet-lined case tucked inside the weapons chest. Vael watched in silence as she lifted the restraints: golden chains; delicate at a glance, but lined with silent runes etched in archaic script. They shimmered faintly in the dim light, glinting like royal adornments… or gilded shackles.

Mira approached slowly, reverently, as if finishing a ritual. "These are for show," she said, her voice low and unreadable. "But if anyone looks too closely, they'll believe they bite."

Vael offered her wrists without flinching. "Then let them believe." The cuffs clicked into place around her wrists with a sound too soft to match the weight they carried. Next, Mira knelt, buckling the matching restraints around Vael's ankles, leaving enough slack between them to run, leap, or fight if needed, yet appearing bound.

Last came the collar. Vael tilted her chin up, exposing her neck. Mira hesitated. Not out of doubt. Out of something quieter. Regret, maybe. Grief.

Then, with practiced fingers, she fastened the golden chain collar into place. It rested just below Vael's throat, its center ring gleaming like an accusation. "There," Mira murmured. "Now you're his prize." Vael met her gaze, fire blazing behind her eyes. "Only until we take back what matters."

Then Mira pulled her hood over her head. Vael drew the crimson cowl up to her chin. Together, they turned toward the back corridor; where the night had already begun. Without another word, the two of them stepped into the darkness. The chains whispered softly with each step. But it was not surrender. It was war in disguise.

The night air hung thick with incense and distant torchlight. Emberhold's lower district simmered with Solstice embers, but here; closer to the high terraces where the Eberflame estate loomed; the streets were quieter. Guard rotations thinned near midnight. The gates of power rarely feared interruption.

Vael and Mira moved like shadows. Every step was calculated. Down alleyways. Over low walls. Past shuttered vendors and flickering lanterns. Mira led, eyes scanning for movement, posture sharp as drawn steel. Vael followed, the slack in her chains whispering softly with each footfall. A sound too small to carry. But enough to remind her what this night was meant to resemble.

When they reached the drop-off point, the carriage waited. It sat beneath the shadow of a derelict shrine, unadorned save for the faint swirls of wood-burned spirals along its trim. The wheels creaked faintly as the animals stirred. Two large raccoons stood harnessed to the front, masked faces solemn beneath the moonlight. Their striped tails twitched once. Then stilled.

"Last chance," Mira murmured. Vael exhaled, tightening her jaw. "No turning back." She climbed into the carriage. The interior was modest; plain benches, dark wood, no crest or ornament. Designed to blend in with diplomatic traffic or nobility in exile. But the moment Vael sat down, she heard it: click.

A lock. Sealed from the outside. Mira climbed up to the front bench and took the reins, adjusting her hood low over her face. Her fingers brushed along the hidden mechanism beneath the seat; checking the knives and smoke pellets tucked into false compartments.

Then the raccoons chuffed, shifting into motion. The carriage rolled forward, gliding through the shadowed path that led to the Eberflame estate; its spires a silhouette against the stars.

Inside, Vael closed her eyes. Chains around her wrists. A dagger hidden in her boot. And fire in her lungs. Let Ruwan believe he had won. Let him think his prize had come willingly. Because when the time came to strike, she would burn his illusions to ash.

The wheels of the carriage murmured across the cobbled backroads, each turn taking them deeper into Emberhold's noble ward. The night hung still, the usual Solstice revelry fading behind them like distant song. Shadows from terrace balconies loomed overhead. The air turned cooler, edged with the bitter scent of incense ash and old stone.

Vael shifted in her seat, golden cuffs glinting faintly in the lantern glow that swung at the carriage's roof. She kept her eyes forward, calm on the surface, but Mira knew better. She could feel the charged silence between them, like kindling waiting for a match.

They were nearly there. But then; the raccoons slowed. A voice barked from ahead. "Halt!" A trio of city guards stood under a stone arch where the old road narrowed; a checkpoint. Standard patrol post. Unplanned. But not uncommon. Two guards carried polearms; the third bore a ledger and a bored expression.

Mira pulled the reins gently, slowing the raccoons to a halt as the lead guard approached. She dipped her hooded head slightly, just enough to appear respectful but not too interested.

"Late to be out," the guard said, trying to peer through the carriage window. "Name and destination?" Mira kept her voice low and even. "Courier contract. Private delivery to Eberflame estate. No contact protocol." The guard raised an eyebrow. "At this hour?"

"Special order," Mira said, and gestured toward the sealed manifest scroll tied near the driver's seat; a forgery made earlier that day. "Under Eberflame seal." The guard reached for it but hesitated. "Mind if I check the carriage?" Mira tensed; barely. "Of course, officer."

She jumped down lightly from the front and moved to unlock the carriage door. Inside, Vael sat in the dim light, chin lifted, wrists together in front of her, chains gleaming. Her gown was dark crimson, her skin dusted with ash to dull its glow, her eyes half-lidded with practiced disdain. The guard blinked, confused. "Prisoner?"

"She's a gift," Mira replied coolly. "Noble blood. Bound by decree. Eberflame's orders." The guard's posture stiffened. "You're telling me; he ordered a chained woman delivered in the middle of the night?"

"You'd prefer I leave her out here?" Mira countered with a quiet steel in her tone. "Shall we wake the estate and tell them the city guard detained their entertainment?" The guard swallowed. "No, no. Just… unexpected."

Mira arched an eyebrow. The guard backed up slightly. "Right. You can pass. Sorry to delay you." Mira gave a short nod and closed the carriage door with a soft thud. As she climbed back to the driver's seat, Vael exhaled sharply inside, the weight of the close call passing like a gust of wind.

The raccoons chuffed again. The wheels rolled forward once more. And behind them, the checkpoint faded into night. They were less than ten minutes from the estate now. And every second counted.