Oath Bound

Chapter One- Jyran

 It was peaceful as dusk settled over the palace, shimmering in the rich foliage that shaded an open courtyard from the sun's withering rays. The dry desert air was fragrant with spices and floral incense, thin tendrils of smoke curling within a painstakingly tended garden. An elegant metal table sat at the center of towering palm trees, crawling vines with vivid flowers fenced away from a circle of sparkling paving stones beneath the arched legs.

My gaze skimmed over the vibrant garden, an oasis of vibrant color which was a welcome relief from the dull landscape of rolling sand which surrounded the city. My elbow resed on the gilded table, jostling the fine platters laden with fine foods; a slight smirk tipped my mouth as I focused my eyes on the man sitting across from me.

He was a sight as fine as the garden which surrounded us- a beautiful flower among the desert lands. Leaning back in his chair, his arms spread over the wide back, there was an elegance in every languid motion as he dropped his head back; pewter blonde hair spilled over his tanned skin, his face tipped to the side so he could meet my gaze with eyes the clear, bright aquamarine of a deep oasis.

"Entranced again, your highness?" There was a teasing tone to his soft, lilting voice as he grinned at me.

I scoffed, sitting up in my seat as I raised an eyebrow at him. "Your unfailing confidence is truly awe-inspiring," I huffed, biting my lip against laughter when his eyes narrowed. "Quite unbefitting of a knight, I would think, Sir Darvish."

His lips parted in mock offense, arms crossing over a chest half bared by the drape of thin, gauzy white fabric which clung to every muscle across his shoulders and stomach, the folds billowing over his arms to where they were captured in golden cuffs at his wrists. "Ah, are we merely knight and liege again?" He stood, bowing down to his knees in a sweeping motion, the silk of his harem pants puddling against the paving stones. "My sincerest apologies for any offense I have-"

"Stop, enough!" I was pleading through laughter, slipping from my chair to kneel in front of him. My hands caught his shoulders, my fingers slim and delicate against thick muscle. His gaze rose, full lips pressed into a thin line- his mirth shimmering in his eyes. "I admit, I was admiring your beauty- but you know it's no more than that, Zahir."

He finally gave in to a grin, nodding his head, fair hair brushing across my fingers. "I know, Jyran- but you're so easy to tease, and it's such an enjoyable pastime."

"Bastard," I scoffed, pushing at his shoulders; the knight didn't shift even slightly, smirking at me as I stood with a grunt. The rich silk robe which draped over my shoulders fluttered in a pleasing arc as I spun, turning to take my seat again. Zahir chuckled as he did the same, returning to his chair, elegant fingers catching the metal back.

Though I sat, my motions in reaching for my drink paused as I realized Zahir was frozen; his brow creased, the knight's gaze was sharp and cold as he gazed off toward the eastern wing of the palace. His knuckles were white against the metal, every muscle taut with tension as his other hand slowly reached for one of the daggers belted to his hip.

I felt my body stiffen, on alert in response to his tension. "What's wrong?" I questioned, anxiety twisting my stomach as he failed to respond. "Zahir-"

His name had hardly left my lips when a piercing scream shattered the peaceful atmosphere of the courtyard. The shrill sound seemed to take the entire palace into silence for a moment, even my heart still in the wake of the alarming sound... and then everything exploded into chaos.

Zahir bolted to my side as I heard guards shouting over the din of panicked servants; the woman who had been idly fanning us against the warm air was white as a sheet, stumbling over herself as she ran for the guards which were stepping out of the hall. Zahir gripped my arm tightly, dragging me out of my seat, pastries spilling across the paving stones as the table tipped sideways. Despite the mess, I couldn't drag my gaze away from the servant as she grasped at the fine silk shirt of a guard- and I saw a horror I never thought would take place within the palace grounds.

The burly man, dressed in the finery of a royal guard, drew his sword from his waist... and ran the servant through without flinching, his face expressionless and cold as his weapon plunged through the woman's chest to the hilt. The blade shone with blood, thick red droplets scattering to the ground as the guard pressed a rugged hand against the servant's shoulder and shoved. The woman's mouth was open in a silent cry, tight lines of fear and agony twisting her face as the sword slid out of her body. She stumbled back a single step before collapsing to the ground- removing the only slight barrier between me and the guards, and I shuddered as the guard's gaze snapped up to me.

"Move!" Zahir's voice snapped in my ear, and he shoved me behind him as he drew daggers from the belt at his waist. The wickedly curved weapons were connected by a thin, durable string of fine silver, the knight's face stern with fury as he stood between me and the royal guards who stepped menacingly into the courtyard garden. His stance shifted, his bare feet spreading out across the stones as he held the daggers in front of him in a stance I remembered from many a feast and celebration; the beginning of a lethal dance, one held in toward his wrist over his collarbone as the other poised by his hip.

"Zahir," my voice trembled, my fingers brushing his back, feeling his tight, tense muscles as his teeth bared in a snarl. "There must be a reason-"

He turned in a blur of motion, one of the naked blades whipping toward my face; I was too shocked to move as a thrown dagger was deflected by Zahir's weapon only inches from my nose, scattering sparks as the intricate dagger skittered into the thick beds of vines. "That reason is not in our favor," the knight hissed, spinning so he faced the guards again as he pressed me back into the courtyard.

I flinched as the guards matched his steps, their faces still cold and expressionless as they advanced on us. It made my heart race, remembering the warm smiles and friendly greetings they had met me with before; whatever had befallen the palace, it had corrupted those my family trusted most. My hands curled to fists at my sides, nails scoring my palms, as I faced threats from men who had watched me grow up- men who had helped train me to hold a sword.

"You have to run."

Zahir's barked words had my stomach sinking, twisted in knots as I shook my head. He snarled, his blades dancing on their silver thread as he tossed one to hold them both in one hand. His free hand reached back to me, fingers grasping mine tightly. With our hands pressed together, the thin silvered scars on our palms matched perfectly, a ghostly mark of the years we had spent together.

He gave my hand a tight squeeze before slowly letting go, and I felt tears burn my eyes as Zahir took a step away from me. "I can't..."

"I'll follow you," he promised, his gaze never straying from the guards as he took another light step forward. His dagger flashed through the air, the silver string spun over his fingers to pull the blade into a dazzling arc; it returned to his hand just as he stepped into one of the guards, narrowly dodging the swing of his heavy sword.

Fear lanced through me watching my delicate knight duck under the swing of the guard's thick arm; every motion still elegant as he raised up to drive his dagger under the man's chin. Blood sprayed across Zahir's arm as he jerked the knife out, dancing back a step as the guard collapsed with a gurgling groan of anguish.

Zahir's full lips pressed into a thin line, his blade scattering ruby droplets as it spun through the air in an arc which followed the sweeping motion of his body, the whirl of his gauzy clothing, as he spun to face another guard. Our gazes met for a moment, my breath stolen by the burning determination in his aqua gaze; the silent command to 'run' setting my nerves on edge.

Though it took all of my strength, I took a step back from the man I had spent my childhood with. It was easier after the first, and though my chest ached with gnawing anxiety and the guilt of leaving him behind, I did as Zahir asked... I ran.