The 27th Assassination Attempt

SIX YEARS LATER

Beware of the man who whispers languidly in your ear, for in his heart, he wishes to claim your life.

ZINA

Zina's back pressed against the wall as a taut body pinned her, their warmth mingling together. Four years of deadly anticipation had culminated into that very moment.

His whispers caressed her ear, sending shivers that had nothing to do with the chill in the air down her spine. "Since you see visions so well, tell me Theta of my house, do you see the day you will die?" His breath ghosted over her skin, reminding her of a debt to be collected.

Swallowing and maintaining a tight grip on her staff despite the body that burned against hers, she answered firmly. "I am afraid the gods haven't shown me yet."

The man over her smiled shrewdly. His lips grazed her ear, his hot breath sending waves of sensation. "I believe in all of the names I have been called, one of them is god. So let me tell you that which you do not know…

"…today is the day you will die."

Zina's eyes flew open, her heart racing madly.

She realised that the world she traversed was just a dream, and that in fact, she was still very much present in her opulent room at the NorthSteed pack. Unwittingly, her hand crept to her shoulders, grazing the mark that was there. As if shocked by lightning, she withdrew her hand.

Zina's throat was parched, and the place in between her legs throbbed. She groaned, wishing that the sensation would be gone… and her wish was answered.

The door to her chambers burst open and a hurried, menacing step approached her.

"Die Seer!!!!" The voice screamed, and before Zina could recover herself, she heard the unmistakable swish of a blade descending for her. 

She dodged it amazingly, twisting her body out of the way of the menacing weapon. She sniffed the air.

A rogue? That was certainly new.

As if sensing that attacking someone as nimble as Zina with a blade was a futile attempt, the unmistakable sounds of bones shifting and joints cracking resounded the air as the smell of a half-shifter wafted through Zina's nostrils.

Crouched on the floor, her hand clutched her staff that never left the side of her bed, her senses wide awake.

The sleep left her eyes, and she felt it by the chirping Mockingbird bird in his cage that it was still the early hours of morning.

Dah had a distinct way of singing the time and seasons to Zina, and did she not just love the little bird?

The rogue descended on her, a feral growling thing. The staff that Zina had learnt was made of some hard stuff she didn't know of, blocked the claw that came from her throat, and with all her strength, she used the same staff to push at the rogue.

He barely budged, but blocking out his blow had disrupted him causing Zina to find a window to escape him temporarily.

Where was the Temple warrior supposed to guard her? Or had they gotten tired of sending her protectors that were initially alive only for them to return back in a coffin?

Zina wouldn't be surprised if that were the case.

The rogue recovered himself, locating Zina and raining claws after claws on her. Zina wedged the blows with her staff, but the thing was quite tenacious, undeterred by her defence.

His leg darted out, kicking Zina at the stomach and sending Zina flying to the wall. Her back crashed against the hard wall, and pain shot through every of her nerve endings.

She groaned, but didn't think more of her pain. If she delayed anymore, she would become food for this rogue.

Where was everyone by the way?

Zina swerved out of the way of an incoming attack, scrambling to the floor to locate her staff. Seraph had begged her times without number to at least sharpen one point of her staff, but Zina, as strong headed as she was, was adamant to leave her staff in its original state.

So apart from hitting and pointing at her opponent, her staff was practically useless in battle fare.

Her staff landed smack dab on the rogue's face. Hard. He groaned like he merely was annoyed from the pain, causing Zina to raise her eyebrows. 

So a tough one?

Locked in a fight where Zina's hard staff was clutched between her and the rogue's unrelenting claws, she heard the unmistakable sound of a werewolf prowling for them.

It could be the rogue companion if not for the unmistakable smell of Temple incense that wafted Zina's nose.

It would seem the Temple was not yet tired of sending her Warriors.

The werewolf tugged at the rogue harshly from behind, the sound of claws and fangs digging into the flesh of the rogue permeating the room. The rogue howled a terrible noise, causing Dah to chirp even louder.

This time, the mockingbird knowing that his master was wide awake now imitated the sound of a howling wolf just for the fun of it.

Zina merely brushed her clothes away from any dirt in annoyance.

"Theta Zina," Seraph's voice rang in the room, laced with mild panic, "are you fine?"

"I am okay."

"That is good to hear."

The smell of blood filled the room, and Zina barely flinched at the heavy, metallic, tangy smell. There were many things one got used to at the NorthSteed pack, and blood was one of them.

A lot of blood.

An unhealthy amount of dizzying blood.

"Is he dead already?" Zina asked impatiently.

The temple warrior shifted back in human form, and Zina guessed from how Seraph shifted uncomfortably beside her that the warrior was naked.

The strange voice of a young man feverishly answered, "Theta Zina, I apologise for being la…" 

"Is he dead?" Zina repeated blandly, cutting the warrior off.

"No he is not. I shall have him interrogated and report back to you!" The warrior chanted solemnly.

Ahh, so this one was young and brimming with passion? Zina wondered how long he would last.

Walking to the basin of water in her room, Zina began washing her face. Seraph scurried after her. Her back to the warrior, Zina asked. 

"What is your name?"

"Ablanch Druin, I was made a Warrior of the Temple this year." The young man chanted proudly.

"Yesterday, your predecessor passed away." Zina said in a voice devoid of any emotion, "he would be the third warrior to die in my service."

The fear she expected to instil in the man didn't work for he said in a voice brimming with passion, "I shall make sure not to be the fourth!"

"Very well. Seraph, do brief him on how much people want my head to roll." 

Seraph cleared her throat and tossed a bunch of cloth to the Warrior which he caught noisily. "Today's assassination would be the twenty-seventh that..."

"What?" The Warrior interrupted in a voice fraught with tension.

"…that has happened within the last six years." Seraph continued, her voice holding her frown at his interruption. "The rate of assassination increased three years ago after the Theta foretold the Great Famine. We greatly suspect that the source of the assassinations are from here in the Arctic North. But we haven't completely ruled out the influence of the other regions that didn't adhere to the Theta's fortellings, and would want to take her life out of spite."

"I understand!" Ablanch said solemnly without a pause.

"If you're to stay by my side," Zina said, cleaning her face and her palm with the towel, "then you must learn how to segue your shifts."

"As you wish, Theta. I shall make sure to learn how to segue my shift." The Warrior said in a voice laden with grim determination.

Zina felt Seraph's smile as the twenty year old woman murmured her thanks to Zina.

Zina was blind so she was spared the sight of something terrible when werewolves that couldn't segue their shift turned up naked. But Seraph, who had always stayed by her side in the past six years, was not spared the horror of such sights.

The girl got to work at Zina's hair, while Ablanch left the room to properly dress.

As the comb caressed the tresses of her hair, Zina felt the girl grow terser behind her. 

"What is it now?" Zina asked, knowing that her morning was already off to a splendid start as it had always been.

"War reports from the borders have arrived. The Alpha King summons you."

"Then we must be on our way," Zina said abruptly, standing from her chair and making her way to the Alpha King's chambers.

Years of practice meant she could easily walk her way around the Arctic Castle. Ablanch shortly rejoined them in their journey, and the silence to Eldric NorthSteed's dwellings was stifling as expected.

The occasional greetings she received, Zina merely responded with a nod of her head. On getting to the royal wing, she and her companions stiffened at the unmistakable metallic smell of blood that hung heavily on the air. The sound of moanings and grunts carried on from inside to outside, causing Zina to clench her fist tightly.

"Announce my presence." She said to the Epsilons guarding the doors in a well practised controlled voice that showed nothing of her true emotions.

"Theta Zina WolfKnight to see the Alpha King!"

The doors were pulled open and Zina stepped in. She didn't manage to get another step in when the soles of her shoes glued to something liquid on the floor. The sounds of moanings were now louder, the grunts deeper, and the slapping of bodies against each other resonated loudly in the room.

Zina knew it without any doubt that she had just stepped on a pool of blood.