They walked until midnight through a narrow path climbing atop one of the nearby mountains, when she looked down she could see the insignificant lights in the city and Thyke, the Torch. 'The view is beautiful up here,' she thought, for a few seconds.
Eventually, they stopped in front of an old looking manor with a different architecture - some sort she has never seen before. The roof was huge and tall, the windows were vertical rectangles; yet they were narrow. It had a huge door. She has seen a figure resembling a gargoyle atop of the roof as a silhouette, with Mastras, the Red Rider of the Night, at the background. It was a thrilling scene.
"Master," she could ask, "Where are we?"
"Patience, young apprentice," he said, calmly. "Fear not."
They stepped into the house. Interior was almost empty, however she saw some paintings hanging on the walls of some shady-looking eila and fylla.
They went up to the first floor. He pushed a door.
...
"So," said one of the men inside the square room, around the round table. He slowly removed his mask. "That is your promising apprentice?" He had a subtle arrogance in his voice.
"Indeed she is," Fauran replied, in an informal manner. "She is more than promising."
"How can you know, when you have not seen her fighting?" another said, with an apparently increased level of volume.
"Well, Master Shinach," he shrugged. "As we all know, the disciples are not supposed to be fighters before initiation. She has the spirit and the potential skills. I suppose you will respect the reference of a Senior about that issue, will you not?"
Shinach remained silent.
Fauran turned to another figure around the table, who was sitting on the biggest armchair of all. His face was within shadows.
"I hereby demand the Council to approve her trials, and the continuation of her apprenticeship under my Masterhood," Fauran said, directly to the shady figure.
"It has been a while I have seen you this enthusiastic," spoke the figure. This was a woman's voice, soft and soothing. "I suppose I will trust your judgement, Master Fauran. The Council approves the trials; and should she pass them, she can be initiated into the Order as your apprentice."
"The Council will not regret the decision," said Fauran, and he headed towards the door after bowing his head. Dheinach followed.
"Master, what is going on? What is this place? What initiation, what disciples? Who are those people?" said Dheinach, in an obvious panic.
"You are going to be a part of this Order," Fauran said, without looking down to Dheinach. "You will be an assassin. A Blade of the Intelligence Corps of N'yaian Army. This is the headquarters for our Order. You should consider yourself lucky, young one."
"Assassin? But... I do not want to be one!" Dheinach said.
"You do not have an option, my young Jael," he stopped walking. "You are strong, cold-blooded, consistent and loyal. These are enough. You will be welcomed here, you will be among the strongest. I can feel it, young one, you will achieve great victories. You have to be trained. You have to learn. This is a path you cannot deny. Your future lies within these dark walls. Trust me. You are not a blacksmith. You have the soul of a fighter. You should be one, thus."
Fauran was speaking as if he was hypnotised, and this attitude was nothing Dheinach was familiar with. It was probably the first time his Master addressed her as 'Jael'. She felt the chill all over her back.
"Come on in," he pushed another door and stepped in.
This was not a big room. It was more like a disfigured rectangle, with a long, dark gray carpet leading to a shrine. The shrine was apparently an emerald figurine of Gosto He'uch, the Demi-God of fylla race and the Nature, looking above the sky, holding a bow and an oak leave in his hands. The room was entirely dark, if not for the candles around the shrine.
"Kneel," Fauran said, as he approached the shrine. Dheinach did so.
"Here I witness the rise of one of your Silent Servants, the birth of a Glory so bright; here I witness the wings of a raven, them stretched into the night," he chanted, and continued: "Here I witness a beam of light, blindingly wandering the skies; here I witness a warmth to consume, every foe filled with despise."
He pulled out his dagger. Dheinach dared to lift her head for one second, and then she saw a carving on it; it was shining orange-red. Fauran slowly held Dheinach's neck and turned her around with almost no effort. He put her hair over her shoulder and pressed the knife's carved edge to her neck.
...
Everything slowed down.
She turned her dreadfully heavy head towards the shrine. 'I'm tired,' she thought. 'Why are those candles so bright, my eyes; they burn, they...' she got tired of thinking.
There was pain. Not only pain, but also pleasure; somehow resembling a passionate, tough sex. She could not stop smiling towards the candles. Her eyes were watery, she wanted to touch her neck, she couldn't. 'Is this death?' she thought. 'Is this over?'
Fauran was not in the room. She realized that, as her head and body felt less heavy, and with a desperate attempt she managed to peer around her. The figurine of Gosto He'uch was dreadfully scary. She held her belt. She was content and fully aware of everything around her now, with an increased perception beyond her imagination. She sniffed the air. The tears in her eyes started to pour. Her vision was blurry, yet still, she could see the details of everything. The paradox confused her. She wanted to scream, she failed. She moaned.
'What was that sound?' she thought. Only if she could get rid of those tears, only if she could-
"Who is it?"
She heard someone breathing heavily, just at her neck.
There were whispers surrounding her. She could see moving shades. She was sure they were there. She wiped away some of her tears. She was amazed by her vision. It was crystal clear. Only if she could get rid of those blurriness...
She attempted to stand up. She instinctually held her belt. She realized a hanging dagger. She grabbed it.
"Die," whispered an echo. "You will suffer." It disappeared.
"WHO ARE YOU?" she glared, panting.
"Death," said the voice, circling around her. She was feeling more and more dizzy every second.
'Calm down,' she thought. 'I have to remain calm. This is a test, this is a test, this... feels real.'
"It is real, Jael," the voice said, circling the room. Her eyes got fixated on the figurine. She could swear that it was that figurine. "You will die."
Her legs started to shake.
Did just someone hold her shoulder? She never knew.
She blindedly swung her dagger to her back. She was still trying to wipe away the tears. She could hear every single crack of the candlelight. She could hear the bugs walking the floor below. She could hear the whispers of other assassins in the Manor. She could hear her own heart beating so fast, as if it will blow away.
She sniffed the air again. The tears were slowly drying.
She eventually managed to stand up on her feet. She sheltered her eyes in the dark room, for some reason it was blindingly light.
"I sense the fear inside, let it go," a familiar voice said.
"I fear not," she replied. "I fear not, let me go!"
"I will not," the voice said, as it turned into echoes again. "You are mine now. Only mine. Even if you do not want it."
"Curse you," she shouted, literally spitting. "CURSE YOU, I WILL GET YOU!"
'I love the hatred,' the echoing voice said, in joy.
'Calm down,' she thought again. She heard someone stomping on a bug, presumably upstairs. She felt bad for the bug.
She swung the dagger all around her. Her neck started to burn, letting the warmth flow all over her body.
"Nothing will be the same," the voice said. "Your old life has come to an end. You are mine now. You are only mine."
Every word was like a spear dashing through her mind. She eventually had the urge to obey. She sniffed the air again.
"Yes, Master," her lips spoke unintendedly. "I shall obey."
She turned around instinctually, grabbed some shade and stabbed it with the dagger. The flow of energy from her to the shade was beyond comprehension - she've felt more complete, stronger, more aggressive.
She thought of her sister.
She thought of her mother and father.
She thought of Syera.
"Einuchar," she could say, before falling to the ground.
Fauran catched the girl just before she was about to touch the ground.
"My little girl," he said. "Welcome to a bigger world. My young apprentice... Jael. Urnyras... Jael."
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