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I unsheathed my golden dagger, and the hooded figure lifted their chin just enough for me to see a slight smirk, as if I’d just confirmed I was the target they were looking for.
I ignored the pounding in my head as I charged, my cloak flowing behind me from the speed. I lifted my elbow to aim for the throat, but they dodged it. I had perfect speed and accuracy in that attack, and they had still easily dodged it.
This person was fast. Very fast.
My panic heightened, but so did my adrenaline. A worthy opponent then? Let’s do this.
The hooded figure unsheathed a sword of their own from their back, the moonlight making the silver blade shine bright. They strode toward me, and our bodies became blurred, the sounds of blade against blade filling the air.
They were strong, too. The swing of their sword caused my arms to buckle at the sheer power behind it and I cursed my muscles for starting to shake.
Wham!
Wham!
Wham!
I could barely keep up with the speed of their attacks. One after another their blade was aiming for the kill. Never in my time as the assassin had I ever fought an opponent with this kind of speed and strength. With this kind of skill.
My heart started to beat faster at the realization that I might not beat this person. That I could fail. I kept up as best as I could. I was thrusting my dagger at every opening I could find, but it was clear to us both that I was playing defense in this spar. I was exhausted from my journey and was definitely at a disadvantage with my energy levels being so low. The hooded figure thrust their sword toward my throat, but I ducked before I could become decapitated. I took this chance to slice my dagger across their shins. If I couldn’t match their speed, I would need a way to slow them down.
As if the person knew what I was about to attempt, they jolted back, and my blade only met skin, not bone.
Before I could strike again, a small wooden crate crashed into my head. My body slammed to the ground from the impact and the hooded figure hissed in pain as blood began to spray down both of their legs. It wasn’t a strong enough swing to keep them off their feet, but it still had to hurt like hell.
My head throbbed where the crate hit it. How in the world were they able to grab that crate? The pile of wooden boxes I could barely see in the dark of night was stacked by a back door to some kind of cafe about thirty feet away.
There was no way. It wasn’t possible. The swing of my dagger and the impact from the crate happened within the same second.
My eyes widened in realization.
Holy shit. I’m fighting a Shadow Crafter.
I’d fought a few before, ones that were in the Royal Guard, but none were as skilled in fighting as the one before me. I was up within an instant, even though my legs insisted against it, and my vision went black for a second. All warning signs to my body that I was gearing towards collapse. I shrugged it off; I would not give up.
The realization that this person had Shadow blood only made my determination to beat them heighten. Two could play at this game. I had Artis blood, too, and I planned on using it. I called on the Golden blood in my body, allowing it to stir within my veins. I lifted my chin, slowly looking at my opponent, and I let them see my eyes for the first time, gold now replacing the green. They lifted their eyes to mine, matching my stare. The black eyes—indicating that this person was a Shadow Crafter—widened at the realization of what I was and what I could do.
They would not leave this alley alive. The word of a Golden-blooded assassin would spread like wildfire. They would have to kill me before I let that information slip.
We began to circle one another, our bodies and minds calculating our next moves. My mind raced, trying to piece bits of my conversation from the inn together. The man mentioned the Red Bones having members with magical blood. As I stared at my opponent it only made sense that he was one of them. I had to get more information, I had to know how many more of them had Artis blood. I lowered my voice, trying my hardest to hide the fact that I was a woman.
“How many more of you are there?”
“Just me tonight, darling.”
Damnit!
From the tone of his voice, I knew it was a man that stood across from me, and he knew then that I was a woman.
I lowered my chin slightly, keeping my face hidden under my hood.
“Why do you work for that thief?” he asked.
Huh?
“I work for no one,” I spat.
“Please,” he scoffed. “Not only did your golden dagger give you away the second you pulled it on me, but I also stood outside in the damn rain for hours, waiting for you. The King’s Favorite,” he spat. “I’ve always been curious to find out who you are and why you do what you do.”
