The Assassin and the Alpheus

Celaena Sardothien was the most notorious assassin in Adarlan's empire. At only sixteen, she was Arobynn Hamel's, King of the Assassins, protégée and heir. Despite all her titles, she did not feel in control. She was a mess, her face still slightly bruised from that fateful night in the Assassin's Keep.

"I'll kill you!"

Thats what Sam had roared at Arobynn when he'd beaten her. He said it like he meant it. Again, and again and again. Sam- Sam, she didn't know what had happened to him, she hadn't seen him before she had left, and she wondered if he'd healed so well. Celaena was Arobynn's chosen heir and best assassin, he had made sure he would never permanently hurt her. But Sam, Sam was expendable, though not to her, and Arobynn could have been much worse.

She shook herself out of her thoughts as a knock came at her door. She opened her aquamarine eyes and got up from where she was lying on her tiny bed on the Alpheus. Her small but clean cabin was on the port side of the boat, where she could see the sun setting on the horizon. Slowly getting up, Celaena pulled on her mask, donned her hood and unlocked her door, opening it to see a crew member dressed in a scarlet and gold suit, Adarlan's royal colours.

"Welcome to the Alpheus," he started, "breakfast will be served from seven to ten. I hope you enjoy your stay - goodnight." She nodded at the young man and, with a short thank you, she closed her door – relocking it – and removed her mask, lowered her hood, and walked over to her bed. Carefully pulling back the grey sheets which she slipped under, she placed her hands behind her head, crossed her ankles and shut her eyes. By the time the Alpheus had departed, the assassin was sound asleep.

۞

"Do you know how much money youve cost me?" Arobynn spoke softly. She wished he was shouting; his deadly calm exterior only added to her increasing nerves. Though she did not regret it. Freeing two hundred slaves was worth it, no matter the cost.

"Its not her fault," Sam cut in. She shot him a warning look. "We both thought it was–"

"Don't lie to me, Sam Cortland,£ Arobynn snarled. "The only way you became involved in this was because she decided to do it–and it was either let her die trying or help her."

This was true; it was her fault that Sam was in this mess, that he'd almost died. It was her fault, and hers alone. She'd almost lost her only friend that day in Skull's Bay and had no idea what state he was in now. These were Celaena's thoughts as she woke up the next day at 6am, on the dot. After almost nine years of waking up at this hour to train at the Keep, it was hard to break the habit.

After getting changed into a royal blue dress with a gold laurel leaf pattern and fashioning her silvery-blonde hair into her signature braid, Celaena headed to breakfast trying to think of anything but her guilt. She chose to think of her upcoming training, with the Mute Master in the fort of the Silent Assassins. They were located deep in the Red Desert, where she could supposedly learn from them, as Arobynn had smugly stated 'to learn obedience and discipline'. Not like there was much she could learn; she wasn't Celaena Sardothien, Adarlan's Assassin for nothing.

۞

Celaena's schedule stayed pretty much the same over the next few days: wake up, have breakfast, train, eat lunch, read, eat dinner, listen to the pianoforte in the lounge, sleep, repeat. She learnt how to properly play cards so she could play with Sam once she returned. 'If we live through this Celaena, remind me to teach you how to play cards properly.' She remembered Sam noting that at Skull's Bay, but now that she didnt know if he was dead or alive, it felt only fitting to learn herself.

It wasnt until the fourth out of the six-day voyage that things got interesting.

She was on her way back from training in the gym when she spotted a man dressed in a white tunic under a scarlet jacket adorned with gold buttons shaped as a head of a wyvern. From what Celaena could see, this man was clearly wealthy, and most likely had connections with the those residing in the glass castle, home to the King of Adarlan. As the man came closer, she could make out a gold brooch in the shape of a star with a single square shaped ruby in the centre. Celaena bristled at the sight, knowing all too well what that brooch meant, what it stood for. The Slave Trade. To the untrained eye, it would've simply been a brooch. But to Celaena, it told her all she needed to know about who this man was. Jalen Holliar.