A group of horses pulled a carriage through Leviara's forests. Accompanying the horses was a small group of knights. Their armors clunked in unison, footsteps heavy while knights walked in a formation that surrounded the carriage. Each knight was alert, scanning their surroundings carefully. King Alan and Dareth were inside the carriage while Xena guided the horses.

  “I’m glad you could come, Xena.” King Alan said.

  “I could never turn down your wishes, my lord,” Xena replied.

  “A woman is one of your best knights, hm?” King Dareth asked

  “Yes, she is. Her skills are incredibly efficient—even without the use of incantations.” King Alan replied.

  “Is that so? Did the blood of the almighty bless her?” King Dareth asked.

  “It’s possible that it’s very latent.” King Alan said.

  “If it’s latent, then you are not blessed.” King Dareth said.

  “That is true, my lord. However, I hope to become a warrior who doesn’t need the clutches of the almighty. In my image, I believe many young men and women could find inspiration in me.” Xena added.

  “Nonsense. Talent is the latent potential of one’s true skill.” King Dareth said.

  “I humbly disagree with that, my lord. One’s true skill is to the extent they seek it.” Xena said.

  “Ha! Ha!… All right, I like that.” King Dareth said.

  The group passed a mossy statue of a man holding a katana. Along the blade of the stone katana was chipped, verdant moss growing along the blunt end.

  “I suppose even they have their traditions, yes?” King Dareth asked.

  “They do, but I’m not very familiar with them.” King Alan replied.

  The carriage and the knights were approaching colossal torii gates. Xena applied a slight tug on the reins, and the horses stopped.

  “I doubt the carriage will be able to fit between the gates. We’ll have to walk the rest of the way, my lords.” Xena got down from the carriage, her armor rustling. The carriage doors opened, King Alan and Dareth exiting on opposite sides.

  “Okay, two of you will come with me, and the rest stay and guard the carriage. Do not let what happened in the manor happen here.” Xena’s voice deepened while two knights offered themselves as extra protection for the kings. Walking through the torii gates, blue runes lit up as they proceeded.

  “So, who are we looking for, Alan?” King Dareth asked.

  “The head of the entire clan. Chiyo Matsumoto. If we’ve made it in time, the training for the younger ones should be happening now.” King Alan said.

  “Wasn’t it a man running it years ago?” King Dareth said.

  “Yes, but he passed away a year before we severed our ties with the clan. His spouse, Chiyo Matsumoto, runs it now.” King Alan explained.

  In the distance, they could hear shouts and the collective sound of wood smacking in batches.

  “AGAIN!” A commanding female voice shouted. They heard another wave of wooden impacts reverberate through.

  “AGAIN!” The voice said—and collisions erupted once more.

  “The sound of training. Now, I feel right at home.” King Dareth said. Emerging out of the tunnel of torii gates, they saw young boys and girls holding wooden katanas and striking straw-filled dummies as hard as they could. King Dareth grinned at the sight, while King Alan narrowed his eyes and furrowed his brows. An older woman was walking through the groups of children with her arms crossed. Her eyes shot towards the kings, and her eyes narrowed once she saw King Alan.

  “King Alan, remind me of how long it has been since I’ve seen your face.” She said while approaching.

  “Somewhere between five and ten years? I can’t recall.” King Alan replied.

  “Mhm, so how dare you show your maddening face to me?” She asked.

  “It’s because there’s something we need to know, and I’m quite sure you’ll be able to tell us, Chiyo.” King Alan said.

  “I should carve you open right here for what you did.” Chiyo maintained distance and folded her arms behind her back.

  “In the presence of the King of Leviara, you will shut your mouth from its loathsome impertinence.” Xena’s voice deepened, and her eyes flicked over Chiyo’s figure.

  “Is this supposed to be your wife’s replacement, Alan?” Chiyo asked.

  King Dareth bit his lip, suppressing any noise while averting his gaze.

  “An envoy was kidnapped, did you hear?” King Alan skipped over Chiyo’s remark.

  “Ah, an envoy, you say? Hmm… Why, yes… I do think I’ve heard. What does any of that have to do with me?” Chiyo replied.

  “The assassin’s cocktail was used on my guard knights. It rendered them completely unconscious and scrambled their minds! Only members of your clan know how to make that potion!” King Alan said.

  “From what we could tell, they also used a katana!... Some of my knights even claim that their arm was drenched in red markings!” King Alan clenches his fists at his sides.

  Chiyo’s gaze was consistent until the mention of red markings.

  “What?” Chiyo’s arms unfolded from behind her back—her breath even seemed to hitch for a moment. She was silent, and the sounds of wooden swords hitting training dummies halted.

  “I didn’t say to stop!” She shouted at the children before they resumed their rigorous beating of the straw dummies.

  “Arm drenched in red markings?... Alan, swear to me that you were told that.” Chiyo said.

  “I swear it.” King Alan said.

  “I don’t know what to say but... We’ve banished her a long time ago.” Chiyo said.

  “That’s fine, just give me a name.” King Alan said.

  “Yuko Matsumoto. There’s no other person in our clan that could fit the description.” Chiyo answered.

  “Finally! Now, where can we find her?” King Dareth budded in.

  “You want to look for her? You are the maddest of all. That envoy might already be dead.” Chiyo replied.

  “That wouldn’t make any sense. If she wanted the envoy dead, she could have done that with ease, don’t you think? There must be something else at play.” Xena said.

  “Ransome, perhaps?” King Alan said.

  “Ransome would force there to be some kind of communication. So far, there hasn’t been a single sign of it.” Xena said.

  “I doubt she has a motive, hardly likely even a point of her existence either,” Chiyo said.

  “Why’s that?” King Alan asked.

  “... I’ve told you enough, haven’t I? Go on your merry way.” Chiyo walked back towards the training children.

  “The journey here was useless! Only a name and not where to find her? Maybe she would understand how severe this is if she were to know her place.” King Dareth said.

  “We would get nothing from her if we were to be hostile. Clashing blades with the Matsumoto clan will never be worthwhile as far as any conflict goes.” King Alan said.

  The three went as they came, re-entering the carriage.

  Unauthorized tale usage: if you spot this story on Amazon, report the violation.

  The Silent Expanse, Nightfall

  The atmosphere was misty—as if a miasma had swallowed the forest whole. It was quiet, and only the footsteps of Prince Avery and Sir Beckett Lowell cut through the stillness. Avery’s blue-glowing lantern did little to provide visibility in the obscuring haze. They pushed apart the bushes and headed deeper off-trail.

  “Ow!...” Avery’s finger had been cut while pushing through the bushes.

  “Are you okay?” Beckett asked.

  “Yes, I’m fine… Just a minuscule cut.” Small amounts of blood dripped off his finger and onto the leaves.

  They proceeded to an area secluded by trees and bushes until spotting a hooded figure with a katana at their hip. Beside them was a fair-skinned man in black and red garbs. He was restrained and lying on the ground with a rope tied around his mouth.

  “There you are! You could have picked any other place to meet, but you chose here?!” Prince Avery said.

  The hooded figure turned and pulled down her hood. Her hair was black and just barely grazing her shoulders. She had a piercing red gaze that gleamed in sync with the red markings on her right arm.

  “Oh, I’m relieved. Looks like you got my message, and you brought a little friend too, huh? You’d better not be setting me up.” She said.

  The envoy’s eyes widened upon seeing Prince Avery. The rope in his mouth muffled his screams while he began to struggle in the restraints—tossing and turning.

  “Sit still, would you? I’ve just about had it with babysitting you.” Yuko planted her foot on their stomach.

  Prince Avery cracked a smile, gazing down at the envoy.

  “Well, now you know why my father says watch your mouth in his presence, don’t you? Ha, well… I doubt he’d do much about anyone tarnishing his name, but me? I didn’t appreciate you bad-mouthing me to my sister in secret. I could’ve slain you like a filthy dragon if I willed it, don’t you realize that?” Avery crouched down and untied the rope from his mouth.

  “You bastard, you’re a damn bastard! Anyone who trusts you will burn along with whatever madness you have planned!” The Vislinian envoy shouted.

  “Shut your mouth, you dog. There’s something I want to know about Vislinia, and you’re going to tell me because I know you know.” Avery said.

  From the corner of his eyes, Beckett Lowell glanced at Yuko’s arm.

  “Don’t ask me anything and keep your eyes to yourself. We are not friends, nor acquaintances,” Yuko mumbled to Beckett.

  He straightened his posture and cleared his throat, armor clanking.

  “I’m not telling you anything, you scum!” The envoy spat in Avery’s face.

  For a brief moment, the stillness of the forest took over. Avery’s gaze filled with the sight of carnage.

  “If you value your life, or anyone you love… I advise you to talk. They will be dead by sunrise if you fail to cooperate. Can you imagine your life being reduced to such a miserable existence like that? Your sons, your daughter, and your wife?… A whore. A whore to whichever man wants his cock touched.” Avery’s eye twitched.

  “Now, shall we continue?” He added

  The envoy’s stomach coiled while meeting Avery’s gaze, and he felt his eyes burning and throat constricting. Sir Beckett Lowell averted his gaze from them, watching their back. A dark purple light flickered from the bushes. He felt goosebumps, but turned back to the situation at hand.

  “W-... What do you want to know?” The Envoy’s voice had softened considerably.

  “Where does King Dareth keep the Vislinian Gem?” Avery asks.

  “H-... How do you know of the gem?... No one should know about that…!” Panic rose in the envoy’s voice.

  “Answer the question. My patience with you is running thin.” Avery said.

  “They’re in the catacombs… Specifically at his father’s gravesite.” The envoy answered.

  “Looks like my initial guesses were not far off.” Avery rose, taking a deep breath in and out.

  “Just to let you know, I’m not doing that. Want my payment, and I want out of whatever fuckery you’re brewing here.” Yuko said.

  “Beckett, provide her with the payment we promised,” Avery said.

  Beckett handed a bag to Yuko. She untied it and peered inside, grinning once she saw the contents.

  “Not bad.” She added.

  A branch crunched from within the wilderness. Prince Avery looked around.

  “Did you hear that?” He asked.

  “Yes, I heard… But you can’t feel eyes on your back, can you?” Yuko said.

  “We’re being watched,” Yuko added.

  “I noticed that from earlier, but… I paid no mind to it. I thought we would finish here quickly.” Beckett Lowell drew his longsword.

  “Man, oh, man… Sniffed you out pretty fast, Prince.” A hooded man climbed out of the bushes. Beneath the hood was the vibrant glowing of dark purple eyes.

  “Who are you, what do you want?” Avery asks, taking a step back.

  “Just want to take a little bite.” The man flung forward in an instant, knocking Beckett out of his way. Yuko matched his speed, cutting in front, unsheathing her katana, and swinging defensively. A loud clang reverberated through the air, as if two blades collided. Yuko front-kicked him away, and he growled. Beckett swung his sword while he was staggering. The man evaded Beckett’s swing, softly chuckling. Beckett got a glimpse of his hand—their skin was as pale as snow. Steam began to curl from their hand, a purple spark emitting in his palm before black flames erupted in a violent wake—potent, scorching, and umbrageous. Beckett charged at the man while his instincts screamed at him to run. The man moved fast, piercing his hand through the armor, rippling past the layers of his skin, and cutting into his chest with the black flame, leaving behind severe burns. The man ripped Beckett’s heart straight from his chest, his snow-white hands thickly coated in blood. Beckett collapsed onto the ground, his weapon falling beside him. After finishing off Beckett, he realized they’d gotten away—completely leaving the envoy behind.

  “Please… Help me.” The envoy pleaded with him. He walked over, his bare feet crunching twigs.

  “Help you?... Hmm…” He pulled his hood back for a moment.

  The envoy was struck with horror while slowly realizing what he was. His hair trailed just past his neck, his sclera dark as the night, and his horns were dark with purple runes inscribed into them.

  “You… What’s your name?” The envoy asks.

  “Enne. Why do you ask? Think I’m going to be your savior?” He asks.

  “... You’re a dragon hybrid!...” The envoy’s voice peaked.

  “That’s right. Hm, well… You’ve just become a liability to me.” Enne got close and sniffed him.

  “Your blood ain’t bad. You’ll have to do for now.” Enne said.

  “Wh—What?” The envoy gazed up at Enne’s smile.

  The forest went silent after a bloodcurdling scream.