Stranger Danger

Serenya pressed her back against the rough bark of an oak, forcing her lungs to slow. Each breath sounded too loud and sharp, as if it might betray her hiding spot. Who in their right mind would dare attempt to assassinate her here, inside her grandfather's academy? That wasn't just reckless—these people are practically suicidal.

But then again… was this really the first attempt? Had the original Serenya already met her end in some forgotten ambush? The grim thought possibility lingered at the edges of her mind. If she wanted answers, she needed the assassin alive. First, though, she had to make sure she survived long enough for Natalia to find her.

She had died once before. And that memory was etched into her soul. But facing death, wide-awake, made her heart hammer extremely because the feeling is different now.

"Where are you…"

The sing-song voice slithered through the trees, shattering her fragile focus. Serenya froze. She knew that voice. Or at least, she felt like she did.

"Come out, come out, wherever you are…"

Crunching footsteps drew closer, crushing dry leaves underfoot. Her hand closed around a rock, careful not to scrape it against the ground. Then, the assassin's tone shifted, dripping with contempt.

"Didn't think hunting an Arclight would be this easy." A mocking laugh followed. "You nobles strut around with your titles, your arrogance, acting all untouchable. But underneath?" A pause. "You're nothing special."

Serenya leaned just enough to glimpse her pursuer, searching for an opening to circle around and strike.

Thunk!

A knife embedded itself in the trunk inches from her face. Splinters sprayed across her cheek. The assassin chuckled, steps unhurried, and careful.

"Oh, I hear you, little mouse. Every breath. Every move." Her laughter rang sharp through the night. "And soon, I'll hear your last. Because what I see now—" She paused, savoring the words. "—is your corpse rotting in the dirt. And I'm just here to make it happen."

Just when despair began to claw at her, Serenya's eyes flicked upward—and there, perched among the branches like a shadow, was Natalia, muscles coiled and ready to strike. Relief surged through her chest, but she swallowed it down. If Natalia attacked now, the assassin would die, and with her any chance of answers.

So she did the unthinkable. She deliberately shifted, letting her presence be known.

This is insane, she thought bitterly of herself. But there's a reason for this. I need to know who sent her.

"Oh, there you are."

The assassin's voice curved with satisfaction as she stepped from behind the tree, hands raised in surrender.

"Why are you doing this?" she asked, tone steady despite the slight tremor in her pulse.

"No hard feelings," the woman replied casually, twirling a knife between her fingers. "I'm just doing my job."

In the moonlight, Serenya finally saw her face clearly—and recognition struck her. It was one of Celetia's sycophants, one of the girls who had laughed and mocked her in the cafeteria.

"Who sent you?" She pressed, voice cutting sharper now.

The girl smirked, shrugging with mock nonchalance. "Hm. Nice try. But you're not getting anything out of me."

Serenya tilted her head, lowering her hands just slightly. Her lips curled into a smirk that didn't quite reach her eyes.

"Of course. Just a job. Because someone like you could never truly touch a high ranking noble on your own, could you?"

The assassin's eyes narrowed, the knife stilled between her fingers.

"You hate us, don't you? All those years watching nobles live gilded lives while you were left crawling in the dirt." Serenya's voice was calm, but almost cruel. "But instead of tearing us down with your own strength, you sell yourself out—another puppet dancing for whoever holds your leash. That's all you'll ever be."

The girl's lips peeled back in a snarl. "You think you're clever, huh?"

Serenya pressed on, sensing the crack. "I know I am. Tell me—what's worse? Being oppressed by the high houses… or being their dog's dog? At least the nobles rule openly. You? You hide in the shadows, waiting for scraps."

The assassin's composure wavered. Her grip on the blade tightened until her knuckles turned white.

"Shut your mouth!" she hissed, her voice trembling with fury.

"Then prove me wrong." Serenya's gaze sharpened. "Tell me who sent you. Or keep quiet, and let me walk away knowing you're nothing but a coward who's too afraid to bite the hand that feeds you."

"Shut up! Shut up! Shut up!" the assassin shrieked, her jaw locking as fury twisted her face. For a heartbeat Serenya thought she might hold back—then steel flashed.

A knife cut through the air.

Serenya's breath caught—only for Natalia to catch the blade with her bare hand, the metal biting into her skin.

"Hah," the assassin sneered. "Of course you'd have a knight in shining armor lurking nearby."

Natalia's body coiled, ready to lunge, but Serenya grabbed her wrist, her voice sharp with authority. "Alive. I need her alive."

Natalia stilled, though her golden eyes burned.

But before she could advance, the assassin danced back, her smirk taunting in the moonlight. "Boo hoo, boring. Guess the party's over."

"Where are you going?" Serenya called after her, desperation slipping through.

The assassin tilted her head, grin widening. "Next time, little Arclight. We'll play next time." Then, with a whirl of shadow and leaves, she vanished.

Natalia was about to follow, but Serenya shook her head firmly. "No. We don't know who else is watching. Stay with me." She forced her voice steady, even as her body trembled faintly. "Something tells me… we'll meet her again."

"My lady, you're hurt." Natalia's tone softened, her eyes scanning Serenya's disheveled state—torn camisole, dirt streaking her skin, sweat clinging to her brow, a shallow graze seeping on her arm.

"I'm fine," Serenya muttered, brushing it off. But before the words could settle, a sudden wave of dizziness crashed into her.

The last thing she saw was Natalia's figure closing in, a warm hand pressing to her shoulder—before everything went black.