Yonis rubbed his eyes, still adjusting to the dim, stuffy air of the room as he slipped out of bed. The castle walls were old, sand-streaked with the passage of time, and the faint smell of incense lingered in the air. The Warden's orders echoed in his mind—protect the princess at all costs. But beyond that, the reasons for this mission were kept frustratingly vague, and Yonis knew better than to ask too many questions.
Yonis pushed open the creaky wooden door. The corridor outside was just as dimly lit, the occasional torch flickering as if it could sputter out at any moment. This castle, grand as it was, seemed to have been hastily fortified for what was to come.
Stepping into the sunlight of the inner courtyard, Yonis was immediately greeted by the dry, baking heat of the desert. He squinted, his eyes adjusting to the harsh light that reflected off the white stone walls. The castle grounds were bustling with activity. Nobles in fine robes hurried past, accompanied by servants carrying ornate jugs of water, crates of provisions, and weapons ready to be handed off to the guards stationed at every entrance.
Yonis kept his head down, preferring to avoid the glances of the castle's inhabitants. He wasn't here to make friends; he was here to keep the princess alive. His footsteps carried him to the quieter parts of the castle, where he could observe without interruption.
Yonis was twenty-three years old and he had a small frame, he was only, 5 foot six inches in height with a skinny build. He walked down the large ornamented hallway bowing at every noble he recognized. He wore formal pants and formal shoes with a formal t shirt-all of his clothes were obscured though because on top he wore a black cloak that completely wrapped his figure as he walked.
As he walked he noticed the glares he got from other nobles, the animosity they felt for Yonis was intense, It was enough for him to be able to summon his sickle knife, which usually only happened during the heat of battle when an opponent was adamant in seeing Yonis dead.
He had a vague understanding that the people of This region hated foreigners and a vague understanding of the history why, but he wouldn't let it effect his mission he thought as he reached guards guarding a large curtain in the middle of the castles hallway.
The top of the red curtain connects high above to the castle ceiling. "You are the bodyguard of the princess, bought from the powerful man across the water?" The guard asked in a heavy accent. Yonis gave a simple nod and walked through the curtain.
The scenery changed drastically, the curtain was an indicator that everything past that point was the princess wing of the castle, the traditional ornamented style changed to one of greenery, stone statues and everything else considered art-in the hallway or on the wall.
Many handmaidens moved around in the hallway cleaning and gossiping while they did so, their white dresses flowing behind them as they worked. Yonis slowly walked down the hall, making his way toward the princess who was still some distance away in her large castle wing.
As Yonis moved further into the princess's wing, he couldn't help but notice the drastic shift in atmosphere. The animosity he had sensed before dissipated slightly here, replaced by an air of calm and refinement. The heavy scent of flowers and herbs wafted through the corridors, mingling with the gentle sounds of trickling water from a small indoor fountain tucked into a corner. It was a stark contrast to the harsh desert heat and tension of the castle's outer halls.
The handmaidens barely acknowledged his presence, too absorbed in their duties or quiet gossip. A few shot curious glances at his black cloak, but none dared to approach him. It was clear that word had already spread about the foreign mercenary sent to protect their princess, and their opinions, though whispered, carried hints of distrust.
As Yonis rounded a corner, he found himself facing an impressive mosaic mural depicting the kingdom's history: desert battles, grand feasts, and solemn weddings.
His eyes lingered on a particular panel showing a royal couple standing over a sea of kneeling citizens—an image of unity, yet something about the depiction seemed forced, as though the smiles on the figures' faces were masks hiding something deeper.
"Do you like it?" a soft voice broke through his thoughts.
Yonis turned to see a young girl, no older than sixteen, standing a few feet away. She was dressed in a simpler version of the maid's uniform, her dark hair tied back in a loose braid. She had a delicate, inquisitive face, her eyes bright with curiosity as she looked up at him.
"It's... intricate," Yonis replied, choosing his words carefully. He didn't want to get pulled into a conversation, but the girl's lack of hostility was a welcome change.
She smiled, a little shyly. "Most people don't stop to look at it. They pass by without noticing all the details. I like to think each tile holds a secret story." She leaned closer, lowering her voice as if sharing a secret. "Some say the artist hid clues to a treasure buried somewhere in the desert."
Yonis raised an eyebrow. "Treasure, huh? Sounds like the kind of story people tell children."
Her eyes sparkled with amusement. "Maybe. But sometimes, stories have a way of becoming real, don't they?" She tilted her head, studying him with an intensity that was almost unnerving. "You're different from the others."
He stiffened slightly, sensing the shift in her demeanor. The curiosity in her eyes had grown sharper. Before he could respond, she gave him a small, polite bow and scurried off, disappearing into one of the side corridors.
Yonis was about to continue on his way when he heard a faint sound—a woman's laughter, soft and musical, drifting from the end of the hall. He followed the sound, his footsteps nearly silent against the polished floors, until he reached a set of large double doors, slightly ajar. This must be where the princess resided.
Pushing the doors open, he stepped into an expansive solarium filled with light. Tall windows lined the walls, allowing the sun to pour in and bathe the room in a warm, golden glow. The scent of exotic flowers filled the air, their vibrant colors creating a miniature garden within the castle walls.
At the center of the room, seated on an ornate couch surrounded by cushions, was the princess herself. She was dressed in flowing silks of deep blues and golds, her dark hair cascading down her back in waves. Beside her stood a tall, stern-looking woman—her handmaiden or perhaps a personal guard, given the subtle armor beneath her elegant robes.
The princess turned her gaze toward Yonis, her eyes the color of the desert sky just before a storm. For a moment, the room seemed to hold its breath.
"So," she said, her voice smooth and controlled, "you must be the one sent by that powerful man across the water to ensure my safety." There was a hint of disdain in her tone, her words dripping with the refined, razor-edged sarcasm of nobility.
Yonis inclined his head slightly. "I am," he replied, keeping his voice neutral.
The princess studied him with an appraising look, watching him stand awkwardly by the door, her eyes flicking to his cloak and lingering on his face, as if trying to peel back the layers and see what lay beneath. "Tell me," she said with a faint smile, "do you plan to simply lurk in the shadows, or are you capable of more than just skulking about?"
Before Yonis could answer, the woman at her side stepped forward, her eyes narrowing. "Princess," she said in a low, warning tone, "perhaps it's unwise to antagonize our... guest."
The princess waved her hand dismissively, not taking her eyes off Yonis. "Oh, let him speak. I'm curious to see if he's more than just another mercenary in a black cloak."
Yonis could feel the tension in the room thickening, the slightest shift in the princess's demeanor indicating she was testing him. This was no mere conversation—it was a veiled interrogation, a way for her to measure him, to see if he was truly someone she could rely on, or simply another pawn sent to guard her against a threat she might not even believe in.
"Protection doesn't always come from the shadows," Yonis finally said, choosing his words with care. "But the shadows are where danger usually hides."
The princess tilted her head, a flicker of intrigue passing through her eyes. "Then I suppose we'll see how well you handle whatever shadows may come for me."
With that, she turned away, dismissing him with a wave of her hand. The handmaiden shot Yonis a sharp glance, a silent warning to tread carefully. Yonis gave a curt nod and stepped back, leaving the solarium behind.
As he walked away, Yonis couldn't help but feel that the princess was hiding more than just the typical worries of an arranged marriage. Whatever secrets lay buried in this castle, they were far deeper than the mere political machinations he had been briefed on.
As Yonis slowly walked away from the princess chambers he contemplated the political scene in the castle. The continent Yonis was now on was called the second continent, even the people that lived here called it the second continent.
The desert region he was now in was called Lauf and in it was many small kings and queens , they all had a wing to themselves inside this castle. Besides the princesses' wing they were four other wings, controlled by four other powerful families, all plotting and scheming on how they were going to end up profiting the most, no matter who had to die to make it a reality.
Yonis turned another corner admiring the scenery, another beautifully crafted hallway that he heard was all designed by the princess.
The people of Lauf cherished art and music but they could be every bit as savage as the bandit kings in Ariel, Yonis thought, turning around another corner. "Stop!" He heard, he looked up to see the handmaiden bodyguard arms crossed at the end of a long dark hallway and a smaller handmaiden bodyguard with a spear in one hand and a small shield in another.
The hallway was unnaturally dark the torches were dim and fading but it was still well into the morning, this darkness that fogged the area had to be made by magic-probably by the caster to hide whatever was about to happen.but how did the handmaiden guard get in front of him? He thought. The older-experienced handmaiden guard spoke with an accent "we have no way of knowing you are who you say you are foreigner, you could very well be our foe." She put a lot of emphasis on the word foreigner, making it sound like a disgusting thing to be.
Yonis sighed loudly, turning around and looking at where he just came from which was now also strangely pitch black, he thought about walking out the way he came so he wouldn't have to deal with this."Please I don't want to fight" Yonis said with bored irritation in his voice. The handmaiden guard stomped her foot one time the shockwave making the entire hallway shake with the force of it, she was a powerful warrior.
Is the hallway an illusion Yonis thought."You don't understand me, foreigner!I won't let you near the princess unless you prove your strength right here!"
As she finished speaking the younger handmaiden guard took a stance pointing her spear and holding her shield up. Yonis had to keep her talking, he had decided nobody was around and he was going to crush the older and younger handmaidens but there wasn't enough negative emotions in the area yet, not enough for him to summon his sickle blade and the powers that came from it-he had to antagonize them.
He started laughing hysterically before calming himself down looking at the two from across the hallway, "so to test my strength the princess sends two weak women? And while we are here- the two most capable fighters.....who's guarding the princess? Stupid decisions like this are why the people in your country are starving and dying!" Yonis yelled.
A low blow he wished he didn't have to say but insulting his opponents was the only way to make his blade manifest-he couldn't tell them why he needed to insult them because his magic affinity was supposed to be a secret, this got him into trouble all of the time. The two didn't respond, just stared at yonis from across the darkened hallway.
But his plan had succeeded, they didn't need to speak, he could feel their malice. Yonis began to feel light beating in his chest as his sickle was ready to be summoned, it felt like a second heart beated in his chest. The younger handmaiden ran at Yonis with intense speed, she hadn't wasted any time trying to respond with a comeback; her only goal was to beat this foreigner down. She was too fast, easily approaching yonis from the other side of the hallway with nightmarish speed.
Yonis reached toward his chest and slowly pulled his hand back as if yanking a cord while the sickle materialized in his hand, he slowly took his stance as the young guard charged at him, he laid the blade of the sickle over his shoulder with one hand and beckoned the guard to come with the other.
The older handmaiden guard watched with curiosity, she didn't understand what kind of magic yonis was using, she could sense the sickle was old, older then anything she's ever seen and evil to blood magic made that sickle but the man wasn't a blood mage. As soon as the hilt for the sickle formed in yonis hands he gained two abilities both the handmaidens had never seen before.
The first forced yonis body into a state of undead, making him near immortal only magic attacks or beheading would cause Yonis any harm. The younger guard rammed her spear through Yonis chest, from the second blow of pressure that collided into him he realized she was using wind magic to increase her speed. He took the blow fully, the pain disappearing as quickly as it came and slammed her against the wall with one arm as she squirmed bewildered that her blow didn't have any effect.
As Yonis had his forearm pressed against the girl's neck pinning her to the wall he held up his sickle to her face, she grimaced, pulling her face back as if she was sure he was going to kill her. She was cute when she was scared, yonis thought, leaning his face closer to hers, she pulled her face back even farther, cowering from yonis. He made three small cuts and let her go as she slid down the wall. He observed her, waiting to see what kind of curse the sickle bestowed on her.
Still panting hard she looked up at Yonis, then looked at his waist gasping loudly then looking away.Yonis looked back at her confused. She then looked at herself and started screaming hysterically. "No no no" she cried,"why am I naked !" She yelled covering her clothed body and looking up at Yonis. "Don't look at me!, please and where are your clothes!" A flash of embarrassment shot through Yonis.
The effect of the curse forcing her to look past the clothes she and other people wore. Yonis turned to the older handmaiden guard-just to see her falling from above ready to come crashing down on Yonis with a forceful blow. The seconds between when Yonis noticed and the older guard fell toward him, he pulled out the spear from his chest, throwing it to the floor with his left and directed a suffering soul to crash into the older guard with the sickle in his right hand.
The spirit, an intangible human shaped green cloud smashed into the older guard phasing right through her, flinging her back to the other side of the hallway. She landed hard, getting up and looking at yonis with an intense gaze slowly walking toward him.
"You were impervious to my students' spear and you halted my attack with a gust of wind? So you specialize in air and illusions?" She asked, walking past Yonis and checking on her student. "How is it possible that you were able to make my student see herself nude" she asked. "I can make specific illusions for specific people" he responded, he couldn't actually do this but it was the only explanation that would make sense.
"A rare ability indeed." She replied. She patted Yonis shoulder "I'll trust you around the princess, you'll now be spending your time guarding her at dinner" she said. Yonis didn't know what to say, was that all she wanted to see? What about the way he fought makes him trustworthy.?
She took her student and walked away, the color returning to the hallway as handmaidens appeared from thin air-they had somehow been there the whole time, it was then that Yonis noticed he pulled into an pocket world.powerful magic.to powerful for the two handmaidens he saw to be able to do.
As the elder handmaiden and her shaken apprentice disappeared into the now-brightening corridor, Yonis felt the last remnants of his sickle's chaotic energy fade. His chest ached where the spear had pierced him, a phantom pain lingering even as his undead state dissolved back into his normal, living form. The hallway was now filled with bustling handmaidens, seemingly oblivious to the dark clash that had just occurred, their laughter and gossip returning as if a veil had lifted.
World crafting magic... Yonis thought, narrowing his eyes. The air was thick with the scent of incense, masking the traces of dark energy that had permeated the space moments ago. He doubted the two handmaidens had the power to create such an elaborate illusion. There was something far more sinister lurking behind this charade, someone testing him—not just his strength, but his character.
He walked forward slowly, his footsteps almost inaudible on the polished stone floor. The air here was unnaturally fragrant, heavy with floral perfumes. Yonis suspected that someone was using the constant sweet scents to conceal other smells—possibly of blood, or worse. He needed to be on guard; Lauf's politics were notoriously vicious, and he was already marked as an outsider.
As Yonis reached the intersection of the princess's wing and the main castle corridors, he found Luka Kuragson leaning against the wall, arms crossed, his devil-may-care grin firmly in place. His golden earrings glinted under the soft candlelight, catching Yonis' eye.
"Well, well," Luka called out, pushing off the wall. "I heard a commotion back there. I assume you weren't just exchanging pleasantries with the castle staff?" He tilted his head, eyes flickering with an amused curiosity. "You know, it wouldn't hurt to try a softer approach. Not everyone here is interested in men from Ariel... yet."
Yonis merely shrugged, not willing to divulge too much. He had a feeling Luka knew more than he let on, but the pirate's son played his cards close. Yonis wasn't sure where Luka's loyalties truly lay, but for now, they were allies.
"The princess's dinner is in an hour," Luka continued, stepping closer. "And rumor has it you've been promoted to her personal bodyguard for the evening. Quite the honor, considering how her usual guards despise you." He smirked. How exactly did he know that? Yonis just got promoted.
"I wonder, did you charm them with that gloomy disposition of yours?"
Yonis ignored the insult. "What do you know about magic that creates pocket worlds in this castle?" he asked, cutting straight to the point.
Luka's grin faded, replaced with a more serious expression. "Pocket worlds? That's above the pay grade of most mages in Lauf," he said, glancing around to ensure they weren't being overheard. "If you were caught in one, someone powerful is either testing you or trying to keep an eye on the Warden's pet project."
Yonis bristled at the label, but he couldn't deny the truth behind it. He'd been sent here for reasons that were only half-clear, even to him.
Luka leaned in closer, his voice dropping to a whisper. "Be careful, Yonis. You're walking in a viper's nest, and right now, you're the foreign rodent they want to chew up. Not everyone here is as... friendly as I am." He chuckled at his own poeticness before turning to leave. "I might see you at dinner. Try not to offend anyone else before then, yeah?"
As Luka sauntered away, Yonis took a moment to collect himself. The upcoming dinner was bound to be another minefield of political tension. But now, it seemed there were even greater threats hiding in the shadows—threats that could manipulate reality itself.
With a deep breath, Yonis straightened his cloak and made his way toward the princess's chambers. The day was still young, and in Lauf, it seemed like danger was only beginning to stir.
Yonis shifted his weight, leaning against the balcony railing, the evening breeze brushing against his face. The air here was filled with the fragrance of the various flowers that adorned the area, but beneath the surface beauty, the tension in the air was palpable. The lively chatter of the princess and her friends filled the space, punctuated with laughter and the occasional clinking of silverware against delicate plates.
Princess Lashmine was proving to be more complex than he had initially assumed. She was nothing like the spoiled, naive royals he had grown accustomed to. As Yonis continued listening, she deftly navigated the conversation, guiding her friends' opinions with subtle nudges, her words calculated but never overtly commanding. It was impressive—and more than a little dangerous. A mind like hers, in such a volatile environment, was a force to be reckoned with.
Meanwhile, the younger handmaiden guard, who had yet to forgive Yonis for the earlier humiliating curse, continued to shoot wary glances in his direction. Her grip on the spear was tight, knuckles whitening each time their eyes briefly met. Yonis could practically feel the heat of her simmering resentment from across the balcony.
For Yonis, this was... ideal. Her animosity was like a steady pulse of negativity, feeding into the dark well of energy he could tap into if needed. But despite the advantage it gave him, it came with the risk of making things more difficult in the future. An ally turned enemy was an unpredictable variable. But for now, he decided to let the tension simmer—it would be useful if another conflict arose.
From his post, Yonis couldn't help but notice that the young royals at the table were beginning to direct their attention toward him. Lashmine's friends exchanged coy glances, whispering behind their hands, some giggling as if he were the most fascinating spectacle of the evening. Yonis resisted the urge to roll his eyes. Nobles, especially those unaccustomed to hardship, always had an inexplicable fascination with the exotic—particularly when it came in the form of a mysterious foreigner draped in a black cloak.
A slender girl with raven-black hair and strikingly pale blue eyes leaned closer to the princess, whispering something that made Lashmine smirk. The princess turned her gaze toward Yonis, her dark eyes sparkling with curiosity. With a graceful motion, she lifted her hand, silencing her companions.
"Bodyguard," Lashmine called out, her voice soft yet commanding, enough to cut through the soft murmur of conversation. "You seem awfully quiet over there. Tell me, do you always prefer the shadows, or do you sometimes emerge to join us mere mortals in the light?"
The question hung in the air, and the other girls leaned forward with eager anticipation, eyes glinting like predators who had just found new prey. It was a game, Yonis realized. They wanted to see if they could rattle him, pull him into their social dance. He felt the young handmaiden guard's eyes on him again, her posture stiffening as if she expected—or maybe even hoped—he would embarrass himself.
Yonis considered his options. He could stay silent, which would only deepen the intrigue surrounding him, or he could play along, risking getting tangled in their web. Deciding that staying aloof might draw even more attention, he finally stepped forward into the light cast by the ornate lanterns.
"My duty is to protect, not entertain, Your Highness," he responded with a slight bow, his tone measured, respectful yet distant. "But if it pleases you, I could attempt to answer a question or two. Though I must warn you, my stories are far less glamorous than the ones you are used to hearing."
Lashmine's eyes sparkled with amusement at his response. "Oh, I don't doubt that," she replied, her voice silky smooth. "But I find that the stories told by those who serve in the shadows often are the most exciting. Perhaps one day, you'll indulge us with one... when you're feeling less like a shadow yourself."
The other girls giggled again, some shooting flirtatious glances his way. Yonis merely nodded, a tight, polite smile on his lips. He had to be careful not to let them draw him in too deep. Here, every word was a trap, every smile a veiled threat. The nobles of Lauf were predators in their own way, each smile as sharp as a blade.
Lashmine leaned back, satisfied with the small victory, and returned to her conversation with the others. Yonis, however, couldn't shake the feeling that this was only the beginning of a longer game. The princess was testing him, not just to amuse herself but perhaps to measure the kind of man the Warden had sent to protect her.
Meanwhile, the younger handmaiden continued to watch him with a mix of resentment and something else—curiosity, perhaps? Yonis could sense her simmering anger but also glimpsed the flicker of doubt in her eyes. Maybe she was starting to wonder why someone like him, a supposed foreigner with strange powers, had been assigned to guard someone as important as the princess.
As the banquet continued,
Yonis remained at his post, half his attention on the nobles, the other half scanning the garden's shadows. This night was far from over, and he had a nagging feeling that it wouldn't end quietly.
The question was, who would make the next move?
The tension of the evening had shifted as the princess and her entourage moved inside, leaving the lavish balcony behind. The room they entered was nothing short of breathtaking. The warm glow from golden chandeliers bathed the intricately decorated space in a soft light. Every inch was a testament to excess: ornate golden statues depicting mythical creatures, elaborate murals covering the high ceilings, and tapestries of deep reds and purples cascading down the walls.
Yonis walked in behind the handmaiden, his eyes scanning the room out of habit while keeping his senses sharp. Though the princess's laughter and the hushed giggles of her friends filled the room, his thoughts kept circling back to the young guard. Why does she keep watching me? he wondered. Her resentment was clear, like a sharp knife constantly at his back, but beneath it, he sensed something else—a mix of confusion, apprehension, and perhaps... curiosity? It was a tangled knot of emotions, and Yonis couldn't quite unravel it.
The girls settled into the circular couch, their colorful dresses pooling like cascading waterfalls around them. As they resumed their gossip, Yonis drifted into the shadows of the room, feigning a patrol. His ears remained tuned to the princess's every word. Lashmine's voice had an effortless way of commanding attention, and now it was turning to a matter that caught him entirely off guard.
The story she recounted was almost unbelievable in its absurdity—a civil war within the castle walls, sparked by nothing more than a royal affair. The queen from Jacquer, who had come to Lauf to join in the marriage festivities, had been betrayed by her husband with a maid barely a week into their arrival. The revelation had torn their entourage apart, splitting loyalties and turning an entire wing of the castle into a literal battleground.
Yonis tried to keep his expression neutral as he digested the information. Unbelievable, he thought. They're supposed to be lovers, yet they can't keep their own house in order. What perplexed him further was how the rest of the castle, especially the princess and her companions, seemed content to let this chaotic mess unfold without intervention. They were all too busy playing at politics and gossiping about affairs to acknowledge the bloodshed happening just a few corridors away.
Yonis's eyes flicked over to Lashmine, who recounted the tale with a smile that seemed almost... amused. She spoke of the civil war as if it were just another juicy tidbit to be savored, a scandal to relish rather than a crisis that could destabilize the entire region. The girls around her listened intently, gasping and giggling at the right moments, as if they were discussing the latest fashion trends rather than the death of soldiers in the adjacent wing.
And then there was that handmaiden again, stationed across the room. She had taken her position at the corner opposite him but kept sneaking glances in his direction.
Her expression was harder to read now, no longer purely hostile. Yonis narrowed his eyes, considering her for a moment longer than he usually would. He couldn't help but wonder if she knew more about the chaos within the castle than she let on. If she did, perhaps that was the source of her conflicted emotions toward him.
As he continued to listen, Yonis caught another fragment of Lashmine's conversation, her tone taking on a more conspiratorial edge. "And they say," she whispered, drawing her friends in closer, "that the king from Jacquer has secretly hired assassins to take out the queen's loyalists. Of course, no one can prove it, but with the way things are going... well, let's just say this celebration might end with more than just a wedding."
A chorus of gasps and delighted laughter followed, as if she had just revealed the twist to a thrilling novel. Yonis, however, wasn't laughing. This was the kind of chaos that could easily spill over into his mission. If assassins were indeed being brought into the castle, then the danger to the princess was greater than they had anticipated.
He leaned against the ornate wall, pretending to admire a golden statue while keeping his ears open. His mind was already working through the implications. If the civil war escalated and assassins truly were in play, it wouldn't be long before someone—perhaps someone with enough gold—turned their attention to Princess Lashmine herself.
Yonis would need to speak to Luka and Luna about this as soon as he could. But for now, he would remain in his corner, watching, listening, and trying to decipher the tangled web that was the court of Lauf.
And maybe, just maybe, he could figure out why that handmaiden was staring at him like she was trying to solve a puzzle only she could see.
The night drew on and the girls continued to gossip until it got dark, they were then escorted one by one with their own units of soldiers. Yonis had learned alot from the girls, with what he learned tonight he was already planning on purposely walking past some of the nobles while whispering gossip in their ears,the more people that hated him the more he would be able to access his power whenever he was in strange parts of this castle.
As the girls left-Lashmine gave them each a hug and wished them the best as the last of the girls left Lashmine shut the door behind her and plopped down on the couch seemingly exhausted. It was now only Yonis, the handmaiden guard and princess Lashmine. The princess gave out a loud sigh. Yonis looked around awkwardly wondering if he had to be here all night.
"What do you think of them, Risha?" The princess asked the handmaiden guard who Yonis is now learning is named Risha. The young girl spoke up "I agree with your earlier assessment princess, even though most of them don't come from powerful families, they are as power hungry as every other noble in this region."
Lashmine sat up on the couch, pouring herself some more wine, the new silence in the room made the room feel empty. "Very astute Risha, you paid attention to the conversation well, all of those girls are indeed power hungry. Every question they asked me was to glean information from me, the girls hate each other but need each other for power." She paused, taking a big sip of wine. "Their fake love for me is exhausting, they congratulate me on my marriage then insult me when my back is turned."
She said it proudly as if she was above it all. But Yonis knew better, he could feel sadness radiate off of her. She longed for things to be different, to be surrounded by actual friends but she just wasn't. "How do you feel about my new bodyguard?" Lashmine asked Risha, taking another elegant sip. Yonis was trying hard not to notice but Lashmine was beautiful, her caramel skin was flawless and seemed to glow or radiate and the air of royalty around her was all consuming, it felt as if you were important just for the simple fact that you were in her presence.
Risha and Yonis looked at each other at the same time as the question was asked, both thinking about the time Risha saw everybody around her naked for the rest of the day. Embarrassment shot through her, which Yonis felt but she answered calmly. "He's quiet...too quiet" Risha started, she still stood in the corner overlooking the room with her spear."I've spoken to almost every person that he's interacted with during his time here, in the second continent and they all hate him."
At this Lashmine looked at me and started laughing, she composed herself and told Risha to continue. "On the other hand his two teammates Luka and Luna are well loved by everyone they meet, I briefly spoke to them as well and they said everybody in Ariel hates Yonis too, which is strange."
At this both Risha and Lashmine gave Yonis a look waiting for him to reply or explain why he didn't reply. "Anything else?" The princess asked. "They both agreed that Yonis was the strongest, I've even had time to spar with him myself and he restrained both me and my mother in one move." The princess looked back at Yonis bewildered, he wasn't surprised he was a small guy he was often underestimated.
"He's strange but I think you're safe with him your highness, he might be the only one in this castle without his own hidden agenda." Risha said. She was wrong of course, Yonis had other agendas. The princess walked over to Yonis barefoot, her dress swaying behind her until they were face to face. She was beautiful, Yonis couldn't bring himself to look her in her eyes.
They were a light shade of hazel,almost the color of the sands itself. "What do you desire bodyguard?" Yonis paused for a moment then simply said "to keep you safe and you alone." "So you're in a castle with the most powerful nobles in the region and you have no desire for fame,women or gold." She asked getting closer. Getting very close. She pushed apart Yonis black cloak,"where do you even keep your weapon bodyguard?" She asked, patting his waist before turning away to refill her glass of wine.
"I've seen men die for fame,women and gold-I'm more interested in things that last forever." Yonis replied,she turned and gave him a little cocky smile "and what will last forever, bodyguard?" She asked. "A job well done" Yonis replied passionately. "I see, I guess betraying me won't live up to your desire to do your job well-so I'll trust you for now bodyguard."
Yonis hoped this isn't what he was going to be doing for the rest of the month until the marriage, standing like a statue in a room full of beautiful women and luxury,he was a warrior. The princess had decided to call it a night and beckoned for the two to escort her to her room. As the three walked back to the princess room, Yonis checked every corner in the hallway, it was the middle of night, a perfect time for assassins to attack.
The princess had said she wanted the entire team-Luka and Luna included to watch over her, no matter how much Yonis swore he could do it alone, she explained that she was curious about what kind of people they were she hadn't met Luna and had only briefly met Luka, she said she could tell from their short conversation he was a womanizer which Yonis thought was funny. As the three walked the dark castle hallways, the princess suddenly froze, with Risha doing the same. At the end of the hall six knights in Lauf armor stared at the three menacingly.
Both of the groups quietly stared at each other but Yonis could feel the growing animosity from the knights. He turned and looked at the princess; she looked calm, almost fearless, staring at the knights in the dead of night-then he looked at Risha who looked utterly terrified while awkwardly holding her spear.
Yonis stepped slightly forward, positioning himself between the princess and the approaching knights, his eyes narrowing as he studied them. The moonlight filtering through the tall windows glinted off their armor, each of them bearing the insignia of Lauf—yet something was off. These knights were tense, their stances predatory, like wolves eyeing prey rather than disciplined soldiers merely doing their rounds.
He could feel the oppressive air thickening with a cocktail of emotions: fear from Risha, simmering anger from the knights, and... a subtle flicker of something else. Lashmine's aura was hard to read; her face betrayed no hint of worry. Either she was truly confident, or she was skilled at masking her fears. But Yonis had already sensed that glimmer of sadness earlier—it was a façade, like everything else in this gilded cage of politics and deceit.
"Bodyguard," Lashmine's voice was a smooth whisper beside him, barely audible, but he caught it. "They've no right to be here. But let's see how you handle this."
Yonis understood what she wanted: a demonstration. The princess was testing him, seeing how far she could push him and what he would do when cornered. His mind raced, but outwardly, he remained calm, suppressing a twisted smile. If he played this right, he'd be able to gather even more negativity, strengthening his power.
The knights began to advance, their boots thudding ominously on the polished marble floor. The leader, a tall, scarred man with a large jagged sword strapped to his back, sneered. "You're far from your quarters, Princess. Our orders were to make sure you remain safe." The emphasis on the last word was laced with a threat, and Risha's grip tightened on her spear.
Yonis took a casual step forward, his black cape fluttering slightly behind him. He was unarmed—or so it appeared. He locked eyes with the scarred knight, letting a smirk tug at his lips. "Orders, huh? Funny how your kind only shows up at night, far from the banquet halls."
The tension crackled in the air, and Yonis could feel it—resentment, hatred, envy—all flowing toward him from the knights. It was like a feast of negativity, and his power responded eagerly. The ghostly whisper of his sickle began to stir, though it remained intangible for now. He needed a little more push.
One of the knights, perhaps eager to impress or too rattled to think clearly, took a step forward, his gauntleted hand reaching for his sword. "You think you can talk down to us, dog? Just because you serve a princess?"
Before the knight could draw his blade, Yonis moved. His hand shot out, gripping the man's wrist with surprising force. The knight's eyes widened as Yonis leaned in close, his voice a venomous whisper that only the knight could hear. "Careful, or I'll show you what a real monster looks like."
For a moment, the knight's resolve wavered, and Yonis could feel the man's fear washing over him, like a cold tide. The sickle materialized briefly in his mind—a flicker of shadow. But he didn't need to use it yet. Not here. Not while the princess watched with those keen hazel eyes.
"Enough." Lashmine's voice cut through the tension like a knife, her tone authoritative and commanding. "If your orders were truly to protect me, then consider this: you're not needed. My bodyguard and Risha will escort me to my chambers."
The knights hesitated. For a moment, it looked as if the scarred leader might argue, but Yonis' grip on the knight's wrist tightened just enough to make the man wince. The leader growled under his breath but relented, signaling his men to withdraw. They turned and retreated down the hallway, casting venomous glances over their shoulders.
As soon as they were out of earshot, Lashmine let out a soft chuckle, her eyes gleaming with amusement. "You have a way with words, bodyguard. And with intimidation, it seems." She turned to Risha, who was still shaking, her knuckles white around her spear. "You did well, Risha, but remember: the only thing more dangerous than fear is showing it."
Risha nodded, though her eyes were downcast, clearly embarrassed by her reaction. Yonis said nothing, simply returning to his place beside the princess. But in his mind, he was already calculating his next moves. The knights of Lauf were just one of many threats lurking within this castle's labyrinthine corridors, and if he was going to keep Lashmine alive—and accomplish his own goals—he'd need to make sure that fear was something that always worked in his favor.
And if he played his cards right, perhaps he could find a way to gain strength from this tangled web of schemes and betrayals. Strength that lasted. Strength that he could use to fulfill whatever dark purpose the Warden had in mind.
For now, though, he followed silently as Lashmine led them deeper into the castle, her steps confident, as if the night's interruption had been nothing more than a passing inconvenience.
Eventually, the trio escorted the princess back to her quarters, where she insisted that Risha stay the night with her. Yonis bowed deeply, thanking the princess for the eventful evening. As he straightened, her soft, delicate hand rested briefly on the back of his head.
"I noticed how no one seems to like you," she said, her voice low but kind. "But I don't think you're bad at all." Without waiting for a response, she quickly stepped back and closed the door.
Yonis stood there for a moment, stunned by her words. They replayed in his mind as he made his way through the dark, labyrinthine castle halls. The paintings on the walls seemed more ominous than before, their shadowed figures watching him as he walked. The entire structure felt less like a home and more like a fortress—designed to confuse intruders. Many hallways served no purpose, stretching endlessly with no clear destination.
As Yonis turned a corner, he froze. Ahead of him stood six armored Lauf knights.
Adrenaline spiked in his veins as realization dawned—this was an ambush. They must have scouted his route earlier, waiting for him to be alone. No other guards were stationed in the princess's wing; they were all positioned outside the corridor, far from where he stood now.
The knights moved slowly, their runes glowing faintly on their armor. The pale, pulsing light made their silhouettes ghostly in the dim hall. One knight in the back sneered, his voice dripping with malice. "Foreigner garbage," he spat.
Another laughed, unsheathing his blade. "He's a bodyguard and a mage. Surround him. Let Juffy have the honor of ending him."
The group chuckled darkly as they advanced, their steps echoing through the empty hallway. These men had killed mages before; their runes hinted at years of experience. They were prepared for magic. But not Yonis's magic.
The air grew thick with malice, superiority, and bloodlust, filling Yonis's chest with an all-too-familiar tug. The sickle's whispers grew louder, clawing at his mind.
"Who is your master?" Yonis demanded, his voice sharper than he intended.
One knight barked out a laugh. "We have no master, foreigner scum. We just like killing mages stupid enough to wander into our lands."
"Little bodyguard," another taunted, and the group erupted into cruel laughter.
Yonis's blood boiled at the jab. Something about jokes at his expense—especially about his height—always stoked a deep, irrational rage. The urge to kill. He didn't know why. He didn't care to understand.
"Good," he muttered aloud, reaching toward his chest.
He hesitated only briefly before letting the sickle's call take hold. It manifested instantly in his hand, a dark, jagged weapon that seemed to hum with the cries of the damned. The knights froze, their cruel laughter silenced by confusion and unease.
They didn't recognize this spell.
"Kill him!" one of them roared, and the knights broke into a charge, blades raised high.
It was a good plan, all things considered. Close the gap quickly, strike before the spell could fully manifest. But it was already too late.
As the hilt solidified in Yonis's grip, a new sense awakened in him—a sixth sense that let him perceive and command the spirits of the dead around him. This was the sickle's true power, an artifact forged in blood and darkness over countless centuries. Thousands of blood mages had wielded it before Yonis, committing unspeakable atrocities. The blade was soaked in so much evil that it had become something more than a weapon: it was a curse, an object of pure malevolence.
"You shouldn't have attacked me alone," Yonis said coldly, his voice cutting through their battle cries. "You'd have had a better chance in broad daylight."
As the knights lunged, the walls around them erupted. Giant, translucent torsos burst forth, their spectral hands snatching the knights mid-charge. The figures were massive, their green, ghostly forms tinged with an eerie glow.
These were the spirits of giants—warriors of the giant race slain long ago, their souls restless within the castle walls. They howled with fury as they grabbed the knights, pulling them one by one into the cold void of their spectral realm.
The knights screamed, hacking futilely at the translucent forms. One managed to pierce a spirit with his blade, but the weapon passed harmlessly through, and he was dragged into the wall moments later.
The last knight clung desperately to the ground as a giant hand wrapped around his torso. His screams echoed long after he vanished into the spectral world. Then, as abruptly as they had come, the giants disappeared. The hall fell silent.
Yonis stood alone, his weapon glowing faintly in the darkness. No bodies remained, no trace of the knights save for the faint scent of blood and fear.
He lowered the sickle, allowing it to vanish back into the ether. With a deep breath, he continued his walk toward his quarters.
The hall felt quieter now, emptier. Yonis hated what he was—what he had to be—but moments like these reminded him of one truth.
He was always alone and he enjoyed it.