Combat prowess and a notorious reputation come at a price— a price Eloise Eylieas pays when the king of Borathea himself arrives at the Black Seraph guildhall with a dire request for aid. Forced to work with a cold, brooding half-demon, Eloise struggles to keep her feelings in check as she attempts to find the source of a dark curse plaguing the southern islands. But in doing so, Eloise awakens a new source of power. One that draws the immediate attention of their hidden enemy and may very well be the key to this world’s salvation… or damnation.
Chapter 1
“How much?” Eloise asked, holding up the shiny, ruby-red apple in her palm. It was hard
to find good apples these days, probably because of the shipment problems and shortened supply.
She could only hope she’d get a few good ones before winter when Eithra’s docks froze over and
closed them off to any imports.
“F-Five…” the fruit merchant whimpered as he cowered behind his stall like a frightened
child, despite the wrinkles and creases in his pale face. His light gray eyes kept going back to the
pendant on her neck, to the black coin hanging by a thin silver chain as if it marked his death,
which would probably be the case if Eloise wasn’t trying her hardest not to snap.
She breathed in slowly and counted to six. One… two… three… four… five… six. And let
it out slowly. It was a simple exercise her mentor had taught her to use whenever she felt frustrated. “Five what?” she asked through her gritted teeth. Five Princes? Five Queens? Kings?
Just spit it out, old man, for god’s sake! she wanted to scream.
“Five Princes!” he blurted out. “Please, don’t kill me! I’m so sorry if it’s too expensive
for you, my lady! B-But… business is business, right? A-And I have a family to feed—”
“Will you just shut up?” she groaned and rolled her eyes. “Please?”
“Y-Yes, m’lady! Of course, right away, m’lady,” he stuttered. The man looked like he
was about to cry.
Eloise heaved a sigh and reached down to pull out some money, but as soon as her hand
went down, she heard a short yelp come from the man and muffled cries from the people around
her. She paused for a short moment, knowing what it could’ve looked like to them, and reached
down slowly to tell them that she meant no harm. She opened her pouch and took out fifteen
Queens. “I’ll take thirty apples,” she said, and then added, “good ones.”
“Yes, m’lady!” he whimpered and flinched as she dropped the silver into his hand as if
they were hot coals. “Of course, m’lady, right away.”
She watched with amusement and irritation as the old merchant reached out with
trembling hands and picked thirty apples to put into the burlap sack. It took him about one
minute to choose, and she would’ve snapped at him for being so slow if she didn’t remind herself
of the delicious apple pie she would get to bake later. She couldn’t bake Callan’s birthday pies
with rotten apples, could she? So she let the old man take his time, even though it pained her to
watch him drop one every few seconds.
“H-Here.” The merchant practically shoved the sack into her arms.
Eloise raised a brow but took it anyway. “Thank you.” She inclined her head before
heading home, leaving the silent market square behind.
She had to admit, being one of the most dangerous and infamous people in all of East
Borathea could be fun sometimes, but most of the time, having a reputation was annoying. On
top of avoiding assassins from rivaling guilds, Eloise also had to endure the whispers and
whimpers from Eithranian citizens.
“Stay away from her. She’s a Black Seraph,” they said.
“The most dangerous in her guild,” they would whisper.
“She could kill you in a blink of an eye if she wanted to.”
The rumors spread quickly, and most of them were exaggerations, but while most Black
Seraphs took pride in frightening the crowd, Eloise found it downright insulting and, sometimes,
hurtful. Just because she had an infamous reputation didn’t mean she wasn’t a person, and just
because she could kill in a blink of an eye didn’t mean she liked it. Eloise was a person, a mortal
through and through, and she had her flaws, too. Sadly, most people tend to forget that one
detail. But that was the life of a notorious Black Seraph, and she’d just had to learn to live with
it.
She walked down the gray cobblestone path leading out of Rhen’s Plaza and headed
towards the South Gate of Coin, passing by rows of wooden stalls selling everything from dried
fruit to leather-bound tomes to hand-woven dream catchers. She would’ve stopped by the stall
that sold books if she weren’t in such a hurry. Today was Callan’s birthday, and she wouldn’t
miss that for the world. Besides, even if she didn’t want to attend his party, he’d kill her if she
didn’t show, so it wasn’t like she had much of a choice.
It was his twentieth birthday, and apart from the apple pies she was going to bake for
him, she also prepared a special gift, something she found during his time away from the
guildhouse.
Eloise passed by the Black Seraph guildhouse, a large, three-story, worn-down red brick
building five minutes away from the Gate of Coin. The window curtains were closed, like
always, and the doors were boarded up and sealed shut to ward off intruders. The building had
been abandoned a long time ago, maybe thirty years, and the people living around the building
never gave it a second thought, but what they didn’t know was that there was a secret entrance
into the building — an underground passage that connected it to a local tavern three buildings
away. It was called the Lucky Roll, and the bartender was none other than their guildmaster’s
grandson, Jarrod, the most skilled alchemist in the guild. The staff in the tavern were also
members of the guild, and they would rotate every week to give everyone a chance to do actual
missions while manning the secret entrance to the guildhouse.
She pushed the old tavern door open and was greeted by the heavy scent of sweet wine
and old wood. The tavern was well lit, even without a fire in the fireplace. Open windows on
every wall let the bright sun shine through. Groups of tables surrounded by squeaky wooden
chairs were pushed to either side of the tavern, leaving space for a small walkway through the
middle to the bar.
Even at this hour, there were plenty of men and women cheering and drinking their hearts
out, too many for her liking, so she pulled up her hood before walking into the tavern.
Fortunately, no one paid her any heed. Everyone was too busy gambling their money
away or downing pint after pint of sweet wine to notice a small, hooded figure walk silently into
the tavern.
Jarrod and the staff, however, noticed her right away. The way she walked, the way she
paced each step carefully and deliberately, was enough to signal her arrival.
His shoulders stiffened as she stopped right in front of the wooden counter.
“What’ll be, stranger?” he asked in a neutral tone. Even though he knew exactly who she
was, he still asked. It was his job to ask, to make sure they let no spies or intruders infiltrate their
ranks. One slip up, one misstep, and it’d be the end of their guild.
“One night in the backrooms,” she answered with the passphrase quietly, her hand going
to her black pendant instinctively. The coin was cold and smooth under her fingers.
Jarrod pushed himself away from the counter and headed to the back door, keys in hand.
Eloise followed without another word, shifting the sack of apples on her shoulder to relieve her
sore muscles.
The backroom was a typical wine cellar. Cabinets filled with jugs and bottles lined the
walls, save for a corner piled with yellow burlap sacks full of potatoes, rice, and beans. It was a
small room, but a room that held many secrets. Every third shelf of the cabinets, for example,
contained nothing but the deadliest poisons and other alchemic mixtures. The burlap sack that
was tied with a butterfly knot instead of a thumb knot was filled with bean-shaped suicide pills
for assassins sent on deadlier missions. And the wall above the pile of burlap sacks was the
entrance to the guildhouse.
“Are those for Callan’s birthday pie?” Jarrod asked, nodding at the sack slung over her
shoulder.
“Yep,” she said, pushing against the wall. The stone surface responded to her weight by
sliding back and revealing a small alcove with a narrow staircase leading down.
“Tell him I said happy birthday,” he said.
“Will do.” She braced one hand on the rough wall and made her descent.
The staircase opened up to a small, closet-sized, torch-lit room with a single oak door on
the other side. Enchanted metal bolts and latches sealed the door, so assuming that anyone was
skilled enough to get past Jarrod and figure out where the secret entrance to the guildhouse was
within the six seconds they were given before Jarrod plunged a dagger into their heart out of
suspicion, they would find themselves trapped between the magically sealed door and stone wall
on top of the staircase until they starved to death or, if they were lucky, a Black Seraph would
come back from a mission and end their life with a quick flick of their blade. There was only one
thing in the world that could unlock the heavy oak door.
Eloise bent down and pressed her Black Seraph coin pendant onto one of the bolts,
murmuring the Black Seraph code, “Sacrento, aequalia, mortis.” Clandestine, equilibrium,
sacrifice.
The latches slid out as the heavy door clicked and swung open silently.
“Home sweet home,” she murmured.
You can find the rest of the book on Amazon! Link down below!
Angel of Silver Fire: Tai, Annabelle: 9781622112159: Amazon.com: Books
