21 || Fireborn Ashes
The mechanical heartbeat of metal armour clashing against each other held Morana's attention in a chokehold. Wyrith guards stormed into the Lost Abyss with thick wooden shields and weapons raised high, grabbing unsuspecting people to interrogate them for information.
A few weaker souls broke under their questioning, trembling under their command and praying they could continue with their day in peace.
However, the strong were insulted that royal scum could encroach on their territory without consequence.
The fights that ensued were enough to make the necromancer consider delaying her mission so that she could watch the chaos unfold.
All because of her.
Pinned to every shield and scrunched tightly in each guard's hands was a poster.
A terrifying girl with purple hair was sketched in the centre underneath rushed lettering that spelt 'WANTED' in broad capitals.
It was yet another variation that looked nothing like her.
Larsa was going to have to draw her own rendition after all.
As much as she wanted to watch the guards' skulls get beaten in with their own helmets and resist the itch to join the battle, Morana had a job to complete. The Fireborn who flinched at every cry of pain that came from below them was to join her.
The begrudging meeting with Silas had been brief, his first greeting words to her still rattling in her skull.
I knew you would come to your senses.
The lopsided grin and a slip of paper were all she received in gratitude for her efforts before she was ushered out of the office. The two of them were to head to Celnaer Castle to sneak inside and kill the princess once and for all.
Her sister would die today.
"Are you really sure about this?" Damian asked for the umpteenth time as he scaled down the rest of the building with shaking hands. The poor man hadn't even dared to look over the edge of the roof when they were at the top.
"I'm doing this, fire boy. You were told to help me, but I don't mind if you step out of the mission. Silas won't hear a word about it from me," she assured.
"That isn't what I'm getting at here." The prince's cloak swished around him as they left the Lost Abyss, the buildings around them getting grander and grander with each street they snuck down. "I know you don't want to kill Ilyana."
"I don't have any other choice in the matter.
Nothing in this kingdom is going to fix itself if I don't." No matter what her feelings were, it didn't change what needed to happen.
If she remained idle and left her life with Silas behind, the Necromancer's Curse would run rampant until there was nobody left on the island.
All she could think about was what her life would be like after everything was done.
"What is it like in Vahan?" Morana murmured.
Damian's gaze softened under the shadow of his hood. "It's different in many ways. It's all flat ground compared to Wyrith's cliffs and hills, for starters. There are a lot more Fireborns too."
The assassin laughed, patting him on the back. "You would be great at selling your kingdom. I need more than that! What's fun about Vahan? What is there to do? Any butchers I could get a steady supply of bones from?"
If she was going to move kingdoms — to a different continent — after everything had settled in the dust of her actions, she needed to be sure of her decision.
"There are a few illegal fight clubs which sound like something you would enjoy. However, bone shards might be an issue unless you get them from animals instead." He bit the inside of his mouth as he thought.
"Why?" Morana held onto her bone pouch as they slipped down an alley between buildings.
"While Vahan is home to other races, our kingdom is majority Fireborn. When we die, our bodies turn to ashes so there won't be any bones left for you to wield."
A frown twisted the necromancer's lips. "You're not doing a good job at convincing me to leave this island behind. How can I keep my title of bone girl without any bones?" What would she be without them? Her magic was all Morana would have if she left.
"I'm just telling you the truth. There may be more things you have to leave behind than you originally expected." The Fireborn opened his mouth to continue, but a finger was pressed against it to stop him.
"We're getting close to the castle now, so we should stay quiet until we find a place to lay low."
He removed the finger and held her hand against his chest. "Okay."
Morana motioned her head for them to head toward a hill covered in shrubs, savouring his touch for a moment longer than she should have.
When she was younger and had the foolish hope of trying to reconnect with her twin, she had memorised the guard's rotating shift pattern around the outer wall.
As Damian had only been in Wyrith for two nights and the majority of his time hadn't been spent inside the castle, she couldn't rely on him to know more than she did.
With a quick prayer to the Gods, she wished they would cover them so she could finally lay this curse to rest.
For what felt like hours, the two crept up the hill leading to Celnaer Castle, darting between bushes and shrubs and laying down amongst the foliage until it was deemed safe to move on.
When they finally got a good viewpoint of a guard standing alone on the outer edge of the wall — one wearing the necessary helmet Morana would need to sneak in undetected — they made sure they were completely covered in leaves.
"It's time for you to become bait," Morana whispered as she placed a hand on Damian's shoulder. "Act lost and distract the guard while I knock them out."
"What? No way. Why would I act lost when the castle is right in front of me? It's common sense to walk in one direction until you reach a gate." He tucked the rest of his cloak into the bush, a desperate plea widening his eyes.
"Do you have any better ideas then?"
"Why don't you use a few bone shards to take them down instead? That way, neither of us would have to get involved."
"I didn't know you would advocate for my killings.
" Morana smirked, her necklace glowing at the sudden interest in death.
"I will do that afterwards, but I need to wear the uniform.
Bloodstains aren't all that fashionable unlike in the Lost Abyss.
" Even with her explanation, the prince still didn't seem pleased with the plan.
"Would you like to do the fighting instead?
" She slid her dagger out from a sheath on her thigh and held it out for him to take.
"A purple-haired woman who fits the description of this kingdom's most wanted is sure to be good bait too. "
"I'll be the bait," he replied with a grumble. "But I'm not going to be lost. I think I have a better idea."
The necromancer sketched as much of a bow as she could while crouched. "After you, Your Highness." Excitement rushed through her spine at the thought of what he had come up with — for what performance he would pull off.
They moved as close to the castle wall as they could without risking being spotted, laying in another section of foliage.
Damian took a deep breath, pulled down the hood of his cloak, and unsheathed his sword.
He murmured something under his breath, words akin to a prayer, before he ran out of their hiding spot towards the guard.
"Help!" he yelled. The sound was loud enough to ensure his faux panic, yet still quiet enough so the other guards in rotation wouldn't hear. "That purple-haired woman is after me! The one on the posters. She's insane!"
Morana's jaw hung wide in shock. "That little shit." Despite being used as a lure, she couldn't help but feel proud.
"Your Highness." The guard bowed deeply before returning her defensive stance. "We weren't aware you were outside of the castle."
"That doesn't matter right now." The Fireborn swung his sword towards the brush where she was hidden. "She's somewhere out there waiting for me."
"You're safe now, Prince Damian. There's no need to panic." She drew her own weapon, moving out to where she suspected the assassin to be. "We'll have her arrested so she can't cause any more harm."
From behind the guard, Damian nodded in Morana's direction, giving her the signal that it was time to move.
As soon as her target walked past her, the necromancer pulled off the guard's helmet and brought the hilt of her dagger to the side of her head with a fierce strike.
Before the body could fall to the ground, Morana pulled it into an overgrowth that could cover all three of them.
"Hide," she hissed at her accomplice. They hadn't timed when the guards shifted their watch, so they couldn't risk getting caught in the open. She pulled the chest piece over the guard's head and placed it to one side, but the rest of the armour seemed much more complicated to remove.
"How the fuck does this work?" Morana groaned to herself as she turned the guard on her side, revealing a series of complex knots and weaves to untangle which held the leg braces together.
She started on one of them, forcing her fingers between the strings, but flinched when a siege of pain shot up her thumb as her nail broke.
"Here, let me try," Damian offered. After he resheathed his blade, he made quick work of the loops and splices, tugging at the metal until it fell loose around the thigh of the guard.
As he worked on the other, Morana removed the guard's boots to swap them with her own.
They didn't have much time before someone new would come to replace the person they knocked out — before they realised someone was missing and alarms were raised.
She tugged the chest plate over her clothes and removed the extra weapons from her shoes — three daggers and a small bag of emergency bones.
After replacing them with the metal monstrosities that were deemed part of the Wyrith uniform, she began on the leg braces.
"Let me help. I can make the knot that was used to hold them on the guard."
"By all means, fire boy. Do your worst." The assassin extended her leg so Damian could work the magic he used moments prior.
He gently gripped her thigh and laced the strings tightly, his fingers inching closer and closer to her torso, making her cheeks heat and turn her face away.
If only they were in a different situation.
She could have teased him more. "Where did you learn to do this? "
The prince cleared his throat. "It's not dissimilar to a corset.
" He motioned for her to turn so he could work on the other leg and she obeyed without hesitation.
Watching his hands form an elegant pattern with the strings, with no errors in sight to ruin the design, was breathtaking.
Damian patted her on the leg when he was finished, shuffling back to give her space.
"Thank you." Morana reached for the helmet next to the Fireborn, but he secured it for himself before she could reach it.
"It's still not too late to change your mind about this. We can work something out, bone girl."
The necromancer could feel the same apprehension and dread slithering in her chest like an unwanted serpent that he did too. Morana knew this was what had to be done, but would she actually be able to finish the job?
She took a few bone shards from her pouch under the chest piece, making sure she was still able to access them, and sent three of them flying toward the unconscious guard. One thudded into her heart, another into her throat, and the final one into the space between her eyes.
"It's time for Ilyana to die."