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(Page 3 of 13) Ivaris - Prologue and Chapter 1 by Jennifer Raney
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His teacher's fear enveloped him, satisfied him. A delicate sneer twisted the corners of his mouth, and he heard the doors latch behind him as the wind began to sweep down the slopes. It brought the tempest, and he sat like a stone through the rain, the wind whipping his soaked hair into his face. He knew what he had to do now, and it hurt him not in the least to be locked out by the others. He would rule them, someday.
Another year went by, and his grandfather passed away after a prolonged battle with a mysterious disease of the blood. His mother ascended to the throne of the empire, and after the funeral and the coronation, she summoned him to her private chambers after supper. She sat at her great table, alone, reading over a letter from his father, her husband, who was in the field with his armies. When he was announced, she bade him sit. Long gone was the motherly affection; she had given up on that long ago after being coldly ignored when she tried to give it. Now she was serious and business-like, as though speaking to an officer rather than her child.
"Itriscia is attempting to occupy our mining territory east of Guira," she began after he took his seat, "and we are having trouble getting accurate information about their movements. I would like for you to travel to the mountains, and obtain more details about their troops. It is difficult for my scouts to watch them in the mountains while mounted; I believe someone with more delicate skills may be needed."
She was well aware of his advanced talent for stealth; he had made it known to her on many occasions. The Empress did not enjoy her son's company, but still desired to produce a workable relationship of some kind with him, somehow. She believed he may well find a happy place with his family if he earned respect as her most talented spy. And although she was a powerful psychic, she could not have foreseen his betrayal.
CHAPTER ONE
It was a day like any other.
Eh. Well, no, it wasn't really, but it had started out normally enough. I woke up at my usual time, and followed my usual routine: wash face, eat breakfast, have tea. Then get dressed, step out the door, die.
Oh right, that was it, that's the part that was not normal. You see, I'm not accustomed to dying when I leave the house in the morning.
Apparently my doorstep was one of many along the chosen path of an assassin on his way to do his small part in a secret, massive, sneak attack on the Parliament.
So, I walked out of my home and surprised a professional killer on his way to his objective. Literally ran right into him. Not terribly lucky for me.
Even less lucky for me was the fact that he was quite prepared and had no reservations about handling surprise visitors on his journey. His blade was a long razor, and I felt nothing as it slid across my throat, only the wet warmth of the blood spilling down my chest.
Actually, I suppose it was a predawn not-like any other, because it was just about four in the morning, three hours before dawn, when I was so rudely dispatched.
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