Lyris of Glass

“You’re going to kill me.”

Qui-ess Ryzn of Lynx stood facing the tall wall of windows, still draped in an elaborate Lynxan gown from the night’s gala. It was heavy and of expensive material, sheeted in silks of silver and violet, a symbol of the alliance between two ferventia – silver for Lynx, violet for Vysram. The dress had been an envy during the celebration, but now, as Ryzn waited for her fate, it was nothing but a life-threatening nuisance.

“Lucky guess,” came the response from the shadows. The Qui-ess knew that it was futile to turn and look for the assassin; after all, she lacked the strength to protect herself in this damned gown. Her eyes wouldn’t provide any advantage at all, either, seeing as her lights were off and the room was cloaked in a dreary darkness from the rain pattering on outside. Except…

In a slow motion, Ryzn reached up her sleeve, approaching where the sheath of her dagger rested. If she could just take the man by surprise…She silently thanked her niece for insisting that she be armed just in case of an intruder. Taking a deep breath, she finished off the motion, touching her fingers to the case and spinning around, preparing herself to jam the sharp knife into the man’s stomach. In fact, anywhere would work. She just needed the time to escape to her saferoom and alert her guards, who were probably asleep just outside the door. Useless thugs. Ryzn rolled her eyes as she-

Silver storms!

It was empty.

“I thought you’d be better armed, Ryzzie,” the intruder said softly. His voice was much closer now, the deep tones striking each note perfectly. In the pitch-blackness Ryzn could only make out his form – tall, broad, and strangely familiar. “But it seems like you’ve forgotten something.”

“Who are you?” she asked, trying both to stall and satisfy her curiosity. Who calls me Ryzzie except… “No.”

“Yes,” the intruder responded, mocking her tone. Ryzn could hear the faint echo of a smirk in his voice, and she scowled.

“Tevor, old friend. What in the name of Lynx are you doing in my chambers? For a minute I thought you were here to harm me!” Ryzn smiled, relief settling over her and lifting the burden of her fears like a flanken would a package. She briefly considered slapping him, but decided against it – after all, it may rip her gown, and how would she explain that to the Qui-lla courts?

“Ah, it’s been ages since I’ve been called by that name,” Tevor responded. “My, but you’ve grown since I last saw you.”

“And just what do you mean by that?” Ryzn asked, chuckling although a sharp shiver of uncertainty ran up her spine. “Do you not still live in Castle-town?”

“Oh, no,” Tevor said. “I moved away from that heap of junk a while ago.”

“Excuse me, but that heap of junk is my castl-”

“Oh, calm down. It’s not like you built it yourself.”

“Still as brash as the olden days, I see,” Ryzn smiled, reminiscing of a time she had not thought of in quite a long while. “Do you remember-”

“Ah, but I must stop you there,” Tevor said, holding up a hand that Ryzn could barely make out in the cloak of black surrounding them. She could hear him rustling in what she assumed to be a satchel or a package. She raised an eyebrow, even though she knew that he couldn’t see.

“What are you doing?”

Tevor did not respond.

Instead, he stopped rustling, having found what he was looking for. The object that he had removed glowed with a dull red light, illuminating its immediate surroundings and enabling Ryzn to see a bit. It was an orb, of a size that it would easily fit in the palm of one’s hand, and ornately designed with black crisscrossing lines. Ryzn faintly remembered the shape from one of her scholar-books, but the memory did not come easily to her.

“And what is that?” she asked. “Tevor?” she added, when he did not respond again. He was not completely silent, however. He seemed to be quietly murmuring words in a language Ryzn did not know, which deeply perplexed her, seeing as she was fluent in the five languages of the surrounding ferventia – as was expected of the Qui-ess. “Is that Bolgi?” she asked. As expected, she did not receive a response.

“Tevor, if you aren’t going to speak to me, you might as well leave,” she said crossly. “I haven’t any time for this, and if you’re found in here my subjects will assume the worst. You could be arrested,” she added helpfully.

Suddenly, the orb sparked with a blinding red light, bathing her chambers in a deep, pulsing crimson glow. She could finally see Tevor in the light – and the man she saw was not the carefree but studious boy she had know so many years ago.

For one, his previously black hair was dyed a deep crimson, and although it may’ve been a trick of the light his irises looked just as red. His skin was as pale as she’d even seen, and even though he had rings under his eyes his face was alight with alertness. Most importantly, though, his once-unmarred face was freckled with scars of all sizes, the most prominent being a huge, deep cut running from his left ear to his right cheek. Ryzn gasped in horror. She was flooded with a deep worry for her old friend – and, yes, a slight bit of curiosity too. “What happened to you?” she choked out. “Are you okay?”

“I’m as fine as I’ve ever been, Ryzzie,” he said. His voice was syrupy and calm, and something about it deeply unsettled Ryzn. “Unfortunately, we may not be able to say that same thing about you after I’ve left.”

“Excuse me?” Ryzn said, backing away from the man that she had so recently turned to in excitement. “What do you mean by that? Really, Tevor, you are speaking in riddles today.”

“Am I? Or are you just unable to decipher my sophisticated speech?”

“Okay, what is going on?” Ryzn asked incredulously. “I think it’s time for you to go, actually. It was nice seeing you.”

“Oh, Ryzn…Did you know that I was in love with you?”

“You were…what?” She paused, trying to comprehend and puzzle apart his words. “You aren’t here to talk, are you? You’re here to- to kill me? Because I didn’t love you back? You do know that I have a husband, and a child.”

“Oh, no, no,” Tevor responded with a laugh. “I couldn’t care less about that now. I just wanted you to know that this is merely business, not at all personal.”

“Tevor, stop. If you’re just fooling around again-” Ryzn took more large steps backwards, her hands splaying and searching for a wall or windowsill to prop herself up against. “I will call for my guards,” she said, praying to Lynx that they weren’t asleep on duty.

“My name isn’t Tevor anymore, Ryzzie.”

“Wh-”

“I’m more often called Scarletshade these days.”

"Scarletshade? Y- no. Not you.” Scarletshade. No, Tevor couldn’t be Scarletshade – most fabled, most feared – most respected, by the wrong people – assassin in all of Lynx.

“Yes, me.”

“GUARDS!” Ryzn screamed, finally losing it. A tear streaked out of the corner of her eye – the first she’d shed. “Intruder!”

“Oh, Ryzzie…” Tevor said, his voice dangerously soft. He almost seemed to pity Ryzn for a split second, his brows lowering and his eyes gentle and meeting hers. “I’m sorry.”