I'm awakened by a maid before dawn. My eyes feel sore and dry. It hurts to open them, but I force myself to stand. I splash my face again with water in the basin but the cold wetness only makes my eyes feel more dry. Groaning, I stand there staring at myself in a mirror with a silver frame. Familiar tousled brown locks and gray eyes look back at me.

            My face looks much the same from the last time I saw my reflection. A shadow of stubble covers my chin and cheeks but I don't have a razor to shave it. My eyes are bloodshot from lack of sleep. I must've finally slept hours past midnight and being awakened maybe four hours later did nothing to help my exhaustion. A change of clothes is laid out for me beside the basin— brown leather boots and black trousers for the ride to Naidara, a black wool coat and a white loose shirt. I sigh in supplication as I pull on the fresh clothing. Clean clothes feel nice against my skin. They smell faintly of lavender and pine, likely from the wash.

       I'm ushered down the hallway as soon as I open the door. Aedan's door is ajar. We stop outside of his chambers and I realize this must be his actual room for any extended stays in the palace. The room smells of cedar and cinnamon, and from my vantage point I see meticulously tucked sheets and folded blankets on his bed. His room is mostly clean, but random knives and a dagger the length of my forearm litter his bed. I see what must be his sword in a belted sheath on his bed. He picks up the weapon, strapping it around his waist.

       "Sorry to keep you waiting, Nadia," Aedan calls to the maid. Nadia nods her head once, silently, her graying hair tucked into a severe bun. He slips the dagger into a strap on his outer leg, and conceals two more smaller daggers in the length of his boots. The smaller throwing knives are tucked away so quickly by his swift hands I hardly catch their location— somewhere in the folds of his coat. He pads into the hallway, silent as a cat despite the heavy boots on his feet,  and we are off to meet King Hector in his study.

       The palace halls are dimly lit by wrought iron candelabras hanging at intervals from the barrel vaulted ceiling. Though my steps do not echo as I walk due to the soft leather of my soles, I can still hear a light tapping, whereas Aedan is as silent as a prowling wolf. I wonder absentmindedly how he learned to walk so silently. Reaching the throne room, guards are being relieved of their night shift, the replacements taking their stations.

        We climb the grand marble staircase. The upper banisters are draped in rich crimson silks, which cascade like a waterfall into open air high above. Climbing and climbing, I realize we've reached an upper level where high arching windows would let in natural lighting during the day. Instead, the floor is cast in dark shadow, draped with a plush rug woven with threads of shimmering gold in the design of the Holtic crest; An Alliran snow panther's silhouette, maw agape in what would be a roar, surrounded by swirling filigree and hard lines forming a shield.

       The crest is visible only in the gleam of scarce torchlight from sconces that offer little illumination in the vast chamber. I can tell even in the near darkness that another winding staircase ascends to a loft situated at great height in the open chamber. We walk forward, avoiding stepping on the rug which is definitely a luxurious heirloom. Aedan leads the way, knowing his way well through this part of the palace. We are now in the east wing, a wing reserved for the royal family. I think of princess Raine sleeping in her chambers nearby and immediately shove that thought away.

       A few minutes of walking down long hallways  and two left turns later, we reach great pine doors carved by a skilled artisan in an intricate pattern of falling snowflakes. I don't have long to examine the carvings on both doors because the men standing guard open them. Nadia the maid enters first, announcing our arrival to the waiting king. He sits in a large, comfortable looking chair with velvet, royal blue upholstery.

       King Hector tracks us with his gaze as we enter, a book open on his lap. Before him is a large but low pine table strewn with thickly bound books and maps. Some titles are in a language I don't recognize, but most are in Palívi, the native tongue. One book in particular piques my interest. It boasts a four inch binding with a faded burgundy cover. The title is most definitely written in Old Palívi. My curiosity stirs, rearing its head. Why would the king have texts in Old Palívi? Certainly he shouldn't be able to read it, right? My questions go unanswered, for I have none.

       "Good morning," King Hector greets us, eyes crinkling at the corners. I'm struck by how he looks both young and old all at once. We greet him in return, my voice still thick from sleep. Aedan glances my way, his face an unreadable mask. As usual. I want to roll my eyes.

       "I will be giving you the details of your mission. The stablemen are preparing your horses as we speak. Priest Mikael has been so kind as to have your... abandoned personal effects sent over from the temple." He looks pointedly at me but neglects to say my name. There really was no need to, there being  no confusion on the matter, seeing as how a temple would be the last place Aedan would show his face. Alas, there is sense in returning my personal belongings to me. Books I own, pages of my notes from my studies. My mother would hardly believe my return to be genuine if I did not so much as bring my own clothes with me.

       Just as my exhausted mind starts to dwell on the matter of deceiving my own blood, the king's voice rings through my thoughts. They were discussing our mission and I had not been paying attention.

       "Apologies, Highness. I did not sleep well last night, my mind is not at its best." I stumble on my words, fearful that I had offended the king. He continues on.

       "You will travel to Naidrin City under the pretense of returning from Silas' religious stay. He regrets his choices serving in my military and the immoral practices men of his station partake in. He wishes to make amends and return to the Order. Aedan, with a note of recommendation from Priest Mikael, will serve as one of those black robed men they have around the temple. What, with his sparse knowledge in temple affairs. You will find what I seek, working with Silas' knowledge of the place.

       Meet nightly at the time of your designation and find the Book of Agakima. It is written in Old Palívi, which I understand Silas to be quite adept at." He finishes speaking, allowing us to take in the information. I'd heard of the Book of Agakima. It details Agakima's downfall, along with descriptions of lost relics at the site, never found. I have never read it myself and I'm not even sure it's in the possession of  the Southern Temple. Regardless of whether the king's information is accurate, we are going to be searching for that book. I silently curse the traitorous Priest Mikael and his loose tongue. Why would he pass such sacred knowledge over to a king? Perhaps under pain of death? Unlikely. Even Holtic kings have deferred to the Fire Order in some matters.

       I find myself looking at the king with an intensity that might not be taken lightly, so I lower my eyes. I look around the room at dark book cases, golden chandeliers dimly illuminating the room with their faint light. The sun has just begun to rise, one large window at the end of the room lets in pale violet light that casts the dark room in an eerie glow.

       "Priest Mikael took the liberty of replying to the priestess' letter and let her know you will be returning. Your arrival will be expected by month's end. That is all. I have eyes everywhere. And you, Aedan, would do well to remember where your loyalty and the loyalty of the five stealth soldiers lies. With me." Aedan inclines his head in a deferential gesture to the king. My gaze is fixed upon the large text with the burgundy cover. I haven't been able to glean the whole title as it is very old and faded, but I did recognize the runic symbols for the words seidhr spà... I know the second word translates roughly to 'foretell,' but I don't quite know the meaning of the first. The root of that word, seid, I recognize from tales of Agni's creation of our world. I cannot quite recall but I think the word was used to describe his act of giving us life. My mind wanders to a distant time when Agni walked and talked with us, sharing the secrets of the universe he created.

        Whatever texts were deemed worthy of smuggling away from the war those centuries ago must have been important. This text before us now must contain such knowledge that could alter the fabric of our futures. I realize I'm being a tad bit dramatic. The power of words has never been lost on me. In any case, both Aedan and the king have noticed my unconcentrated stare into space and are giving me a look. I blink, refocusing my gaze and I turn my attention back to the present.

       King Hector stacks his books gingerly, save for the one whose title has me entranced. He raises a brow at me as he tucks it under his arm. It doesn't escape my notice how he'd used a length of cloth to pick up the book without touching it with his hands. I'm satisfied to know the book is safe from destruction at the very least. The touch of skin on pieces of parchment as old as those would only damage the ancient text. It's likely handwritten in its entirety, before the press came to be. Priceless, really.

       As the king exits his study, we are left with the maid, Nadia, with clear orders to escort us away from here. Aedan walks beside Nadia, whispering some words to the elderly woman, who chuckles and pats his arm. His face is turned away from me but he motions at me to follow after them with one hand. I take one last look at the room, relishing the comfort of the room. The leather cushioned chairs positioned in alcoves of bookshelves beckon me stay and get lost in the pages. Alas, I have work to do. And family to deceive...

       Exiting the chamber, the guards close the great pine doors behind us. They thud and latch shut in our wake. We reach the great, once dark chamber, now illuminated in golden sunrise. The sun peaks over the eastern horizon, the Brashnir Range appears miniscule in the distance. From this vantage point, towering over the awakening city, one can see the domed theater, great arching bridges paving the way across the Jarrin and Katrina Rivers, and rows of multistory buildings housing shops and citizens alike. People roam the streets like ants. Colorful tarps unfurl under which merchants set up their wares for the day. Carts and carriages roll across cobbled streets. Great suncha trees tower where they stand, the city melding with the natural landscape. Holtz is beautiful, really. The capital, though bustling and widespread, still enjoys the quiet of nature just around the corner. Spring is here, the ice is melting.

       We descend the stairs after taking in the view. I wasn't the only one enraptured by the sunrise. Nadia clasped her hands in her delight, gazing upon the city that she likely called home her whole life. Even Aedan spared Holtz a second glance, his thumb running across the scarred knuckles of his other hand. My footsteps do not sound like my own as we descend the final steps of that grand staircase. Back within the throne room, I can't help but feel as though a pair of eyes watch me. I look to the left, gaze sweeping back across the room. Then, I tilt my head upward and catch a set of deep blue eyes watching us from the loft high above. Her slender arms are perched on the banister at the elbow. Her long blonde hair falls like a curtain, swept onto her left shoulder. I avert my gaze when Princess Raine begins to make her way to descend the staircase. She's no longer looking at me, rather, she's staring rather intently at Aedan who pointedly refuses to look back.

       "Let's go," his voice is low, and he takes off at a quick pace toward an open set of doors. I expect the doors will lead us to the stables. Nadia says nothing but her stern eyes are adamant— I am not to linger. Wondering just what all that was about as we walk down an interminable hallway, I realize we are in the servant's passages. My eyes scan the bare stone walls, maids rushing past with trays of tea and some with baked goods. I inhale the godly scent of apple strudel, perfectly spiced with cinnamon. My stomach rumbles. I cannot recall my last meal. Aedan's keen hearing picked up on my stomach's revolt. A grin crosses his features, sharp like a knife.

       The kitchen is warm, an enormous hearth with wrought iron racks situated within heats up the lengthy chamber. The ceilings are moderately high, vaulting into the wooden roof. The firelight cast on the wood creates a citrine glow. The walls are large white bricks, likely some sort of sandstone. I wonder how they were put into position, as each one is bigger than half my body in length.

       Many older cooks, men and women alike, work dough. They're kneading it on a wide oak table space, smack in the center of the room. Flour dusts nearly every square inch of that table. Pumpkin, squash, and other vegetables hang from handwoven baskets at a far corner of the room, while even more baskets and barrels full of apples, carrots, oranges, and pears line that wall of the room. The kitchen is busling, kettles full of brewing tea hang over the hearth where a small girl uses a wire net to scoop and strain the tea leaves from the boiling water.

       The kitchen is a welcome surprise stop along the way and the purpose for our detour is obvious— food. A heavyset woman carrying a burlap sack approaches us, a huge smile on her face.

       "Aedan! So glad you stopped by before leaving. I got your note," The matron immediately envelopes Aedan in a bear hug, then holds him out at arm's length. The display of her obvious affection for Aedan catches me off guard. I almost expect her to pinch his cheeks and call him schnookums. The thought causes a grin of my own to spread across my face. It doesn't escape the assassin's notice and Aedan shoots me a killer glare, which only makes my smile wider.

       "Good to see you Cynthia. Thank you for the food," He accepts the sack, slinging it over his shoulder, "I trust the items you chose will last the long journey to Naidara?"

       "Yes, dear, though I did include some of your favorite snacks," she winks at him, "I recommend eating the honey cakes sooner rather than later! They're wrapped neatly."

       "Honey cakes?" I ask, eyebrows raised. The cook Cynthia looks to me then, her smile never leaving her red lips.

       "Mhmm," she muses, "His favorite! I used to catch little Aedan sneaking into my kitchen stealing away all the honey cakes." She laughs heartily, and the other women throughout the room smile to themselves, probably also remembering Aedan as some blonde haired little terror.

       "Alright Cynthia, that's enough," Aedan says, though a small smile causes one corner of his mouth to quirk up.

       "Oh, how you've grown! What a handsome young man you are. It's been almost a year since I last saw you. His majesty certainly keeps you busy," Cynthia wipes her hands on her flour streaked apron, bustling around the room searching for something. She's rambling on and on about salted meat, apples and potatoes. A small jar of salt, how to properly cook them over the fire.

       "Thank you Cynthia, I'm sure we will manage. And thank you for the honey cakes." Aedan's following after her, helping her fill glass jugs of water that are certainly going to be heavy. I walk over and pick one up, Cynthia latching the lid for me.

       "You're good strong boys. I'd tell you not to get into any trouble but my words will be wasted on you two!" She laughs to herself, and embraces Aedan again. To my surprise she pulls me in as well.  "Nice to meet you too, Silas. Be safe! Hurry along now I have work to do!" Cynthia is already halfway across the room, opening the door and showing us out before I can even ask how she knows my name. I reach an answer myself, a voice in my mind telling me Aedan must've told her. I shake my head and Nadia whisks us away to the stables.

•••
Thank you for reading! Feel free to comment any feedback or thoughts you might have. I'd love to hear from you. If you enjoyed this chapter please let me know!