"From this day on, you will write me letters only in red ink, as a symbol of your conviction, and the blood of your people which you shed with your own two hands."
Drakili was seated in the damp forest, a red letter in his hand slowly being consumed by the small fire in front of him.
He watched as the orange flames licked the paper, the smell of burning blood reaching his nose before he finally let go, leaving the paper in the embrace of the fire.
Memories flashed before his eyes immediately the smell of smoke reached his nose, horrid images.
But he had long become numb to the screams.
"I have been waiting for you." He said, as another person walked into the clearing.
The woman was dressed in all black, and a mask shielding the lower part of her face, leaving only her eyes exposed.
Her eyes were captivating to say the least, one was blue while the other one gold, both sharply contrasting with each other.
But that was not the only notable thing about them, her eyes were cold, merciless, just like that man’s eyes had been.
She gave him a long look, her eyes narrowing slightly as she watched him.
Drakili could tell from the way she stared, she was absolutely repulsed by the mere sight of him.
"You are here." Drakili stood up and dusted his clothes. "I got your message, you wanted to see me?"
A few days before Eliron set out for the expedition, Drakili had received a letter through the usual methods, informing him that an assassin was being sent to the village.
After the young lord’s foolish declaration that he had received a Divine Ascension, of course he drew the attention of some unsavory figures.
So he already expected her, but after waiting for so long, Drakili had begun to worry. What were the chances she were really coming?
In just a few weeks, Eliron had swayed the hearts of the people to himself. All Drakili had now were a few elders that remained loyal to him.
But loyalty was a fickle thing.
He needed Eliron dead, the quicker, the better.
"I have something for you, Lord Galanhad asked me to deliver it." The assassin said, her tone barely above a whisper.
Drakili swallowed, cold sweat running down the back of his neck at the mention of that man’s name.
Only then did he notice that she had an object in her hand, wrapped up in black cloth.
When she was close enough, she placed it in his hand and took a step back.
Drakili unwrapped the object and took a long look at the shape. It looked very much like a twisted finger, its black surface giving off a soft ethereal shine.
"What is this?" He asked, raising the foreign object to observe it better.
The woman looked away and began walking. "Consume it whenever you find yourself in trouble, it will give you power to overcome them. Those were my lord’s orders."
Drakili smirked, and then a dark chuckle left his lips.
"I see that the lord finally sees the value of my contributions, appreciate him for me when you get back."
The woman did not respond, all she did was stare at him coldly, over her shoulder, as though she was already tired of the conversation.
Drakili began wrapping the object back in the black clothing. "About your mission..."
The assassin sighed, the closest thing to emotion she had shown during their meeting.
"Preparations are being made. The boy is not someone I can afford to take lightly."
"I see."
’How can an experienced assassin like her say such a thing? Is Eliron really that strong, or is she just incompetent?’ Drakili thought.
’It doesn’t matter, as long as she gets the job done.’
He bowed.
"Please, extend my greetings to Lord Gala—"
Drakili stopped and looked around, the woman was long gone.
She had been standing right in front of him, and yet he did not see her vanish.
"Impressive, I guess the plan is in good hands."
Drakili placed the strange object inside his clothing and smothered the fire.
Now that he had seen the assassin for himself, he could stop worrying about the future.
As it stood, the young lord’s fate was already sealed.
He left the forest feeling a little happier than he had arrived, and made his way back to the village.
It was not long before he saw torches in the distance, a number of elves searching the village.
’What is going on?’
Apart from the guards there should have been no one else patrolling the streets.
’Did something happen?’
Once he got close enough to the group that they could see him, one of them shouted at the top of his voice.
"There he is, Drakili is over there!"
He could not believe his ears.
"Drakili?! That is lord Drakili to you fool!" He shouted, enraged by the sheer disrespect by the younger elf.
The crowd rushed up to him, and in a second he was surrounded by a mob of people, each of them watching him with enraged looks.
Torches danced in the air, the flames burning just as hot as their rage.
The crowd began to murmur amongst themselves.
— How could he do such a thing?
— I always knew he had a nasty heart.
— How could he betray his own people?
That was when Drakili knew there was trouble.
All around him, people who would not normally dare utter a single word against him were watching him with clear animosity.
Then suddenly, Eliron walked towards him, the crowd parting away as he did.
"I knew it had to be you. What horrid scheme have you cooked up now?!"
The young lord stared at him as though he was beneath him, with his hand lazily resting on the pommel of his sword, he raised a hand and the entire crowd became deathly silent.
"Drakili," he said without an ounce of respect in his voice. "You are accused of kidnapping with intent of sexual harassment. How do you plead?"
Drakili took a step back.
’Kidnapping? What the hell are they talking about?’
"I never did such a thing! What sort of nonsense are you saying, or have you all gone mad?!"
Drakili had been out of his house since he came into the forest, how then could he have kidnapped anyone?
He walked towards Eliron, his face twisted with rage as he stared at him.
"Do you know the consequences of accusing someone in my position without proof?"
A small smile tugged on the cheeks of the young lord, a smile that made Drakili’s blood boil.
"If you didn’t do it, why was she found unconscious in your storage shed?"
That was when the realisation hit him...
He had been framed.
Drakili’s eyes scanned the crowd.
’Who could have done this??’
He knew Eliron, he was not the type to cook up such a scheme, he would be more likely to bring the battle right to his face than use underhanded methods.
That was when his eyes landed on a person standing at the far edge of the crowd.
The woman’s hair glowed like fire under the many torches, the flames dancing in her green eyes as she watched him.
It was Artie, and right now, there was a small smile playing on her lips as she watched him.
"Check mate." He saw her mouth, leaving him drowning in the trap she had single-handedly orchestrated.