Chapter 52

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52 - Faith of a Mortal

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A/N: Yay, you arrived on last chapter. Pardon the typo its 1 AM in here. Enjoy <3





Chess is a game of mind won by strategy, not hearts. Evan Rosier knew the game of chess all too well like he knew the surface of his favorite dagger. The first time he gained interest in the said game was right after his less educated uncle, Ambrosius, had won a game against Prometheus. The brunet understood, he didn't need literature to be able to deceive people as Regulus did. Like Ambrose, Evan learned that to win a game of chess the key was to remain silent when your opponent made a mistake.

              Made them feel confident about what they were doing, at last, adjust strategy inside your head, calmly. Right now, Evan found himself to be in a game of chess, the forbidden forest was the vast, gigantic checkerboard, and he was the dark knight who just defeated the dark bishop laid behind him as a rotting, useless cadaver.

              Rosier's plan was plated carefully in his mind the past nights, when Avery made his move it forced him to shift his strategy right away. He knew that the dark Lord would still want her despite knowing that his bishop was butchered by the light queen. And there would be only one way to convince the king in charge: the light queen had to defeat the dark knight, too.

              Evan had to make Gammaliel fight him.

             No, Rosier had to make her defeated him. He pursed his lips, swallowing his nervousness down the gut. Battering his drenched lashes he peered to his soaked boots, feeling water flooding the inside of his soles. Raindrops slid away from the leather exterior while his feet were numb from the cold. Fear fogged his mind, his palate was bitter as he saw the stream was polluted red by Avery's blood. Raindrops seeped inside his soaked fur cloak, it turned the velvet linen into deep burgundy, deep as blood. Hazel eyes bulging from his sockets as he kicked away the discomfort and sped his footsteps. Droplets slid off his scalp while he listened to his gasping breaths, his heartbeat was steady.

              Unlike everyone, the assassin's heart would beat slower when he got nervous, being fully aware that he had iron running in vessels beneath his skin. His favorite blade was on his palm, shiny obsidian metal that matched the night sky. Evan had grown to notice the frequent he used the said weapon to kill, the darker and sharper his weapon would be. And yet that April, he wished no blood would pollute his dagger when he raised it in front of a brunette witch with tensed muscles.

            "Pick that up, girly." his voice came soft and hoarse, he had masked away his doubt in front of the witch.

             The french swallowed his gut, narrowing his eyes as rain glossed his twitching temples. Before him, Gammaliel was deadpanned, raindrops glided down from the leaves to lob above her head, her brunette hair was drenched a tad darker than usual. There was a pause when he felt his stomach churned, he was relieved she was all right and yet Rosier had to go on with his plan.

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