The first time Keira had seen the Shadow Keep, it had looked like a dark fortress against the night sky. Seeing it up close gave it a very different, very intense impression.

The structure had been built on a high hill, overlooking the town below it with assured dominance. It was the largest building Keira had ever seen; its ground floor was nearly the size of the city of Dothan, the Norlain capital. Its arresting being rose stories high to pierce the heavens, challenging the Spirits to dare object. The dark castle stood imposingly, blocking everything from view so it was the only thing in sight. Its very profile exuded a powerful presence, not unlike a very dangerous deity lying in wake for its prey to come prancing into its clutches. 

Dark rectangles arranged themselves on the castle walls, giving one the impression of thousands of black eyes watching every step. They seemed to gaze at Keira with amusement, as though her journey within was a mistake they would fervently enjoy. Banishing the ridiculous thought from her mind, she walked on, her small band of assassins in her wake. The entrance was a gaping maw, ready to consume those who dared enter. The Norlain insignia was engraved just above the mighty doors. And this is just the outside of the castle, she mused.

As Keira and her companions stepped through the doorways, escorted by the armed guards, they were welcomed by statues on each side, each different from the former. One was a statue of a creature of the dark, its mouth frozen in a silent roar. Another was a dragon, a huge beast dominating a generous section of the long hall, forever encapsulated as it shrieked at an unseen victim. The next an image of a Sheraki, the mer-person extending her black-taloned hand to them. Just beyond it was an Elkanya, the winged reptile preparing for ascension, its beady eyes glaring above. More creations lay ahead, most of which she could not identify. Such beasts had been terminated along with the Ancient World.

Though her face was blank, Keira was morbidly fascinated to see monsters she had only heard of as mere bedtime stories. She idly wondered what it would be like to fight one of them. To go hand-to-hand with the most ferocious creatures in the land. To feel the surge of adrenaline as you fought for your life—the thrill of not knowing when death loomed overhead or it would creep up on you another day. Just the thought sent her blood humming in her veins. Her fingers twitched in anticipation, craving the feel of the hilt of her sword. This was what it meant to be an assassin—to be one of the Shivane.

The hallway came to an end, spitting them into a large expansive room. Columns ascended to the high ceiling, which remained untouched by the illumination of torches. Various tapestries lined the walls, depicting long-forgotten history. Fierce battles against men, raging wars against demons and monsters, destruction by the Diviners, death by the Elder races of the realms. Keira took everything in with a quick sweep of her gaze, finding exits as well as vantage points to take in the possibility of a fight. Not that any form of combat would arise in the King's presence. It was second nature, as instinctive to her as moving away from an open flame. She knew the other five assassins were doing the same as they strode forth.

Ahead, six large steps lead up a dais, where a throne rested. It was forged of iron, fashioned in the design of a large fire. The metal had a bloody hue, adding to its strange appeal. Seated on the fiery throne was the King of Norlay.

Even after everything Keira had seen, the King himself was the creation that stole her breath. A man made of marble, a strong jawline cupping his sculpted visage. High cheekbones accentuated his looks, making him look like a well-carved statue. Rosy lips etched into a hard line. But his eyes... The lilac hue was a burst of color in his icy face. They were young and old in rivaling equilibrium, the bright orbs swirling with knowledge she couldn't begin to comprehend.

Keira did not overlook the clearly tailored clothes he wore. A soft black tunic that resembled a hunter's garb but was spun with royal fabric, which probably cost more than she had in her person. Dark pants clutched his legs down to his heavy boots. Over that attire went an ebony coat that brushed his mid-thigh, its silver buttons glistening in the torchlight. The royal crown—skilled metal work embedded with rubies— rested atop his fine golden hair, which fell down to his waist like a sunlit waterfall.

Keira and her companions reached the bottom steps and knelt on one knee, a hand on their chests in salute to their King. Keira didn't dare to look up at His Majesty, and she knew her friends weren't stupid enough to try without consent.

"Arise." The single word was like ice, cold and hard. They leaped to their feet with the swift grace of assassins.

Tentatively, Keira chanced a glance at her King. He nodded a silent permission to look freely, which she signaled to her five companions. All looked to their King.

"My Lord," Keira began. As the leader of the Shivane, she was the one to speak on their behalf. "We are honored to have received your invitation."

His Majesty looked down at her with cool regality. "Yes, you should be." Keira swallowed subtly as he continued. "I have not summoned you here without a purpose. I hope you realize that."

"Of course, Your Majesty." She bowed her head.

King Brannon was silent for a moment. Keira wondered if she had misspoken at some point, and she felt tense. Such a deed could cost her her head.

"Before I inform you of your requirements," he finally proceeded—Keira silently thanked the Spirits for that. "I need to see if you are trustworthy."

Keira didn't falter. "Do with us as you wish, my lord. We are at your command."

The King didn't move. A sudden sharp jab pierced her head, the feeling akin to a knife being plunged into her skull before prying it open. The sensation spread deeper into her mind as it invaded her senses. She felt an icy presence pillaging through her very self, rummaging in her heart and soul. Keira gasped. Without a doubt, she knew the King was in her head, judging her from the inside. Gathering her strength, she let him search her. She had nothing to hide from the King of Norlay. Finally, the inspection stopped. She sucked in a breath between her teeth.

She turned to look at her friends. Their eyes were wide as though they were witnessing the monstrous statues come to life, each gasping for air. One by one the King relinquished his hold on them and they relaxed.

All but one. Yllana.

Keira stood in shock as Yllana dug her nails into her thighs, tearing the fabric of her leggings. She spun around to face the King, nearly demanding what he was doing to her friend. His majesty was poised in a relaxed posture, spearing Yllana with his icy eyes. Upon hearing a gasp, Keira turned back to see Yllana collapse to her knees.

The King padded down the steps, calm and reserved. Keira and the others moved away to let him pass. He paused to where Yllana knelt. She was shaking, her shoulders hunched and head bowed. King Brannon regarded her without a flicker of emotion. Then he outstretched his hand to lay it on her forehead. She stilled under his touch. For a moment, everyone froze, unsure of what would happen.

The moment passed. Yllana's back arched painfully, as taut as a bow. Her blue eyes turned white and she took a quivering breath through her mouth. Her body glowed a silvery hue. The King drew his hand from her forehead, an action that mimicked pulling something from her body. A bright white essence slowly emanated from her body to follow his fingertips. Her arms suddenly jerked to her sides as the sheen of light passed from her chest, her mouth, her face. He drew it all out until none of it was left. The glowing phantasm swirled in the air to form a wraith-like apparition. A white color spread from the tips of Yllana's soft brown hair till it reached the tips. Finally, the woman slumped to the ground, as still as the air around them.

The white presence floated to King Brannon. He fished something from his coat before revealing a round vial tied by a twined string around its neck. He uncapped it, and the glowing sheet slithered into it. Surprisingly it fit well into the tiny glass jar, and the King fixed the top in place.

Keira took on all this with her mouth ajar, tension threading through her muscles. Her gaze shot to Yllana, and her heart gave a painful twist. She had known the woman for years; trained alongside her to be one of the Shivane, the most feared and revered assassins in all the five kingdoms. To see her dejected body lying on the floor... Keira shook it away as she blinked away tears. Instead, she dared question her King. "Why?"

His lilac eyes quickly claimed her own, and she felt daggers of ice dig into her body. She realized she hadn't addressed him as protocol dictated and quickly added his title to her question.

His tone was simple, chilling. "Her alliances were in question."

"How?" Her voice cracked. "She is—was my second-in-command."

"Then I have saved you a great liability in the future."

Keira swallowed, her throat burning with the urge to weep. Her eyes stung with unshed tears but she held them off. Now was not the time to grieve. "Thank you," she forced out, "my lord." The words were like ash on her tongue, bitter and hard to swallow. 

He strode back to his iron throne, settling fluidly upon it. Keira bit her tongue, unwilling to scream at a man with enough power to rip her apart without batting an eye. She felt his gaze on her, prompting her to look up.

"Do you know what I did to your companion?" His voice ran smooth like butter on bread.

She shook her head. She was sure that if she tried to speak, it would come out fractured with grief. They had been taught that death was inevitable, and they should handle it with expert precision. Keira had no qualms about dealing out death, but this was different. The Shivane were more than sisters—they had a bond stronger than blood. Because of that, the death of one would be ten times worse to them than a mere mother's or sister's death. But no matter what she felt, she pushed it aside. An assassin was trained through pain, by pain. She could handle it, despite how much it hurt her.

He brushed away a long strand of gold hair from his marble face. "I took away her soul,"—horrified gasps arose unwillingly among the small group, Keira included—" and stored it for later use."

Keira felt the unease rise from the assassins behind her. It was as tangible as the chill in the air. "Why?" she whispered.

He didn't falter. "The souls of a living creature are fascinating wonders. They can be reshaped, molded anew, given a new purpose, bent to the wielder's will." His lilac eyes swept over the lot of them. "Though she was your companion, I will not inform you of what will happen to her." His voice was deep, fluid, as cool as the glaciers of the Frosted Crust. Keira balled her hands into fists at her sides, an attempt to stop them from shaking.

"Of course, my lord," Keira managed. "Your will is law."

The Norlain King rose once more. As he strode down the stairs, he raised his arm and flicked his hand, as if he were swatting a nonexistent fly. The air behind them shimmered before a long obsidian table appeared out of thin air. Despite all that had happened, the act still surprised her; she fought to appear unfazed by its sudden appearance. The King stopped in front of it. It was clear he wanted them to follow, so they made their way around the table.

Spread out on the surface was a map of the five kingdoms—three in the Westlands and two in the Eastlands—with an empty ink bottle, a dagger, and a beautiful sapphire gemstone. Keira looked up at her King questioningly. 

"The reason I called for you," he started, "was because one of my prisoners have escaped. I need you five to retrieve her for me. Only retrieve her; do not kill her." The words bore a heavy emphasis, a warning to them. "But, if she retaliates—which I'm sure she will—you are permitted to use force. As long as she is back alive."

Keira straightened. "Of course, my lord." Her eyes skimmed over the map, taking in every detail. "We will have to split up to find her."

The King shook his head, sending the golden waterfall to shift restlessly against his chest. "There is no need of that." Before she could open her mouth, he explained. "The girl is an Arcane." He eyed each of them in turn. "The Shivane are born to track the whereabouts of magic users and annihilate them, correct?" It was more a statement than a question. Nevertheless, they all nodded.

"Then that is one way you can find her." Keira felt a rush of relief; their work wouldn't difficult. All they had to do was bring the girl back to His Majesty. "However," he interrupted her thoughts. "Due to the fact that everyone knows of your abilities to identify Arcane when they wield their power, it is likely that she will avoid using hers." 

The thought was a stone weighing on her mind. She had forgotten about that. Only when an Arcane used their magic, no matter how slight, the Shivane would sense it and head straight for it. It was why they existed—to eradicate the world of the taint the Arcane bore. If the girl didn't use her magic...

"Then we will still need to split up to find her," she told King Brannon. "It is the only way."

"No." He met her blue gaze. "It is not." He gestured at the table before him. "Avira possesses a pendant, one she always wears, the twin of this jewel." He held up the sapphire gem, which glimmered in the torchlight. "The two stones are connected, drawn to each other. You will use it as a guide."

Keira nodded. "Yes, my lord. How long has it been since her escape?"

"A day. The City Guards have scoured Dothan; she is not in the vicinity."

"Then she won't have gone far."

King Brannon took the dagger swiftly, twirling it in his hand. The manner in which he handled the blade spoke of years of dedication to the craft. 

Faster than the eye could see, he slit the palm of his hand. She gasped. "My lord!" All the others tensed around her, watching him in surprise. The King didn't appear fazed by the pain. He hung his hand over the map and fat red droplets splattered on it. For some reason, Keira had always imagined Ephiran blood to be a different color, but it ran crimson just like anyone else's.

"I am also connected to Avira," he explained, eyes fixed on the map. "Through that connection, I am able to trace her whereabouts." Satisfied, King Brannon hung his hands over the table, palms down. He began muttering words, an archaic language that filled her ears. She didn't need much to know he was casting a spell. The red splotches gathered into one mass. Slowly, the blood moved on the map, leaving a crimson trail in its wake. 

The Shivane watched with awed fascination as it traced its way past Charlay, stopping in an unmarked area. The King finished his eerie chant and looked at the map. "That is where she is now," he declared. "Because I will not be there to keep tracking her, I have given you the gem. It will not be as efficient, but as hunters, I doubt that will be any problem to you."

Keira memorized the path to take. It seemed as though the girl was heading away from Norlay, which made sense. By the direction she was following, Keira guessed she was heading to Erthen Bay to seek passage to the Westlands. Despite the war brewing, some ships still interacted with the enemy lands. "It is no trouble at all, my lord." They all bowed their heads in gratitude. "Thank you for granting us an audience with you. We will not let disappoint you."

"Good." He stared at Keira, his cold eyes sending waves of unease coursing through her veins. "Because you would not like to be at the center of my rage."

Keira thought of Yllana's corpse, a soulless body slumped onto the cold floor. The King had the power to do that, and more. No, she thought. Keira feared very few things in life—fear was just an obstacle that clouded one's mind—but she was terrified of her King. No one in their right mind wouldn't be afraid of the man. No, I would not. 

Hey guys! Thanks for reading this far. I hope you liked it. If you did, please don't forget to vote :) Comments are deeply appreciated.

So new characters have been introduced and you've seen the King once more. What did you think of the King's display of power and cruelty? And what do you think of the Shivane's odds of getting Avira? 

P.S Shivane is pronounced as "shi-VAH-nay".