Ch 1: The Last Mission
The moon loomed over the Alistair estate like a watchful eye, veiled behind restless clouds. Its pale glow stretched over stone battlements and tall iron gates, casting eerie shadows that crawled across the courtyard below. The air was heavy—damp, storm-soaked, laced with secrets.
Nevian Rune moved with the silence of death itself. Cloaked in black, every breath was measured, every step deliberate. His gaze swept over the estate’s defenses—the guards’ rotation, their slack posture, the flickering torches that barely pierced the night.
His target Lord Rath. A parasite in silk robes. Dealer in secrets, poisoner of peace. The Alistair family had ordered the hit—quiet, discreet, final. Nevian accepted, as he always did, without question.
Nevian Rune
(whispers to himself)
“The perfect night for a reckoning.”
The first roll of thunder echoed in the distance as he scaled the rear wall, shadows curling around him like loyal hounds. He slipped past the guards unnoticed. He’d memorized every inch of this place. Lord Rath was predictable. Gluttonous. And soon, dead.
He crouched beneath a window, his eyes narrowing. Inside, Rath snored—oblivious. A candle guttered weakly on a bedside table, casting a flickering halo around the man’s bloated form.
Nevian raised his crossbow. A clean shot. Swift. Painless, if undeserved.
Nevian Rune
“One breath… one shot…”
But before he could release, something shifted in the shadows. A presence—unmistakable. A figure emerged behind Rath, slender, cloaked, eyes glinting with silent warning.
Nevian froze. His instincts screamed—danger. But from who?
The figure raised a hand, signaling. A swift motion. Not an attack. A warning.
Nevian Rune
(quietly)
“Who are you?”
A sudden thud shattered the stillness. Rath’s eyes snapped open, his hand darting beneath the pillow.
Steel flashed. Nevian moved to fire, but pain exploded in his side. Rath’s blade had found flesh.
The crossbow clattered from Nevian’s grasp. He staggered, blood soaking his tunic, his vision spinning.
Lord Rath
“Thought you’d slither in like a shadow and take me out? You’re not the first, boy. But you’ll be the last.”
Nevian dropped to one knee, clutching his side. His pulse thundered in his ears. The room was tilting. Distant. Wrong.
Nevian Rune
(hoarse)
“This… wasn’t… right.”
He looked up, his gaze locking with the mysterious figure still watching from behind Rath’s bed. Unmoving. Observing.
Nevian Rune
(grimacing)
“You… knew…”
The figure said nothing. The world bled away around Nevian. Pain dulled. Sounds faded.
His body collapsed, blood pooling beneath him. Rath sneered, but Nevian barely saw it.
Darkness swept in—not like sleep, but a void.
In that place between breath and death, Nevian drifted. His body gone, but his mind still burning.
He floated in shadow, weightless, bodiless. Whispers curled around him. Fragments of memory. Echoes of pain. Regret. Purpose.
Something called to him—a voice that wasn’t a voice. Ancient. Knowing.
Mysterious Voice
“You have not fulfilled your fate, assassin.”
Nevian Rune
(struggling to think)
“Am I… dead?”
Mysterious Voice
“Not yet. Not completely.”
A light appeared. Distant. Faint as a dying star. But it pulsed—alive, insistent.
Nevian was drawn to it. Not by choice, but by something deeper than will. He reached, though he had no hands. He moved, though he had no body.
The light expanded, swallowing the shadows, revealing a realm of drifting forms and forgotten names.
Mysterious Voice
“You have been marked by shadow, but not claimed. You still serve a greater thread.”
Nevian Rune
(whispering)
“Why? Why me?”
Mysterious Voice
“Because betrayal has many faces. And yours has not yet seen them all.”
Suddenly, he was falling. Or rising. The void twisted, folding inward.
Nevian’s consciousness flared—then slammed into something else.
Breath returned. But not his own. A different heartbeat thudded in his ears. A different pain laced through fragile limbs.
He was not dead. But neither was he Nevian Rune anymore.
The last thing he felt before oblivion took him was a presence within the vessel—a soul dimmed, yet familiar.
And in that final moment, the shadow claimed him
Cherrie
Hey you, yes you—the awesome human reading this!
Cherrie
First of all, thank you. Whether you’re here for the plot, the chaos, or just hiding from responsibilities (relatable), I’m really glad you found this story.
Cherrie
Writing this has been a mix of heart and occasional dramatic staring into the void. So the fact that you’re here, reading these words, means the world to me.
Cherrie
I hope this story gives you something good—a little escape, a cool character to root for, or maybe just a reason to stay up past your bedtime (sorry, not sorry).
Cherrie
Feel free to say hi in the comments! I promise I don’t bite, unless I’m out of snacks.
Cherrie
Take care of yourself, drink some water, and remember…..
“‘The shadows aren’t so scary when you have a good story to walk through them with.”’
Cherrie
Your mildly chaotic, deeply grateful author.
Comments
👑Puchi👑
wow intresting 😮
2025-05-12
1