The Seventh Flame

Chapter 1

-Blade-

Icy fingers gripped Blade's arm in the darkness as Crynn silently let him know he was there. Angry wind slashed at their faces and the rain danced wickedly atop the two men's heads as they tried to get their bearings, crouched atop the tall, stone wall. The hair on Blade's neck stood on end, and a shiver raced down his spine, a lump forming in his throat.

It was time.

Blade's lips parted to reveal an ugly smile as he wiped the dirty rainwater from his brow. From here, they could see everything. Towers made of stone and ancient wood cast shadows over the damp and foggy streets below. The perfect cover. Blade couldn't have asked for better weather. The castle walls were the strongest things around and yet, they could not keep him from accomplishing his task.

Kill the king.

Footsteps slowly creaked on every step of the stairs as they began to descend and Crynn glanced over his shoulders with a grimace. The sound seemed to echo through the corridor as the sounds of the raging storm outside faded away. Blade wasn't worried about the creak of the floorboards; it would be an early alert if any guards were to come in their direction. While Blade listened ahead for any oncoming signs of life, the tired and underpaid guards wouldn't be listening as closely.

Soon the narrow corridors inside the walls widened and the two men found themselves in the open air once again. This time, however, they were within the walls. The cobblestone streets were vacant, and the only sources of light flickered through the windows of sleeping homes. Other than the sound of distant music and the screeching ravens perched atop a tower, the night was tranquil. With silent footsteps Blade and Crynn crept through back allies and shadows, nearing the second row of walls. These would not be so easily breached. Even at a distance, Blade saw the small shapes of bodies pacing back and forth, torches in their hands.

Still, there wasn't an ounce of fear in his body. The tattoos up his back had healed days ago. He had the mark of the flame. It gave him strength. It gave him a purpose. He would bring the fall of the crown. He or Crynn, who had a circlet of flames that wrapped around his bicep. For years they had trained and dedicated themselves to this mission. They'd watched as the rebellion went from a handful of lost souls to an underground army. The kingdom was growing uneasy. It was turning over on itself. Peace cannot last forever; it corrupts itself from the inside out.

Blade was determined to cut the head off the corruption itself. The King. The ignorant King. If he were not removed from the throne, he would allow the neighbouring kingdoms to run them over, as long as it meant he could avoid an all-out war. He would do anything to continue the false sense of endless peace. The security that blinded the people from his crimes. He did not want to be remembered as the King that brought his people back into dark times. But he was too late for that.

Blade just hoped that the one who rose to the throne would be better. King Theon had taken in seven children sixteen years ago, and since, has raised them all to be his predecessor. The King was supposed to be the one to choose who succeeded him, however, with the King gone, no one knew who would take the throne. Personally, Blade thought any of The Seven would do a fine job. He hoped this would be his last assassination. He would kill the King and then retire. Maybe he would move out to the kingdom, spend the rest of his days in the sunshine of Anatol.

"Blade." Crynn hissed under his breath, crouching against the ivy-covered castle wall, "I see the door, think it'll be unlocked?"

"As long as that rat, Azure, held up his end of the deal."

"And if he didn't?" Crynn didn't trust Azure, and neither did Blade. Azure was a rat pretending to be a mouse. A crook parading as a servant. His sticky fingers often got him into trouble, trouble that Blade once got him out of... for a price. Azure owed him one, and he would pay up if he knew what was good for him.