These Ivory Swords

| Chapter Two |

Expertly navigating the docks, Iliya made her way through a maze of old crates before stepping out of the darkness,

The lantern's light illuminated the sweaty faces of men and women unloading cargo into steel carriages aligned on rails. When a shipment was full, the sailor closest would grip the lever and send it wheeling onto the shore.

"'Scuse me, Zhinav," a young man murmured, lightly touching her arm to skirt around her.

Iliya blinked at the contact, eyes widening.

She reminded herself she wasn't royalty here, standing as any girl would along the pier. Clutching her cloak closely, she might even look like a disconsolate lover sending her partner off to sea.

Bristling, Iliya shook the memory of those sharp silver eyes from her vision and focused on the path ahead.

They haunted her as much as the odd prickling on her neck, the seventh sense praying on her hunter's instinct. She might not be a soldier, but Ezre had raised her as one.

Iliya's brow quirked upwards, a small smile playing on her lips as she sunk frozen fists into deep pockets and stalked off the dock. As she suspected, the sensation trailed after her, even as the path twisted and turned.

Steadying herself internally, she listened to the wind rushing through the towering pines and closed her eyes. Boots scraped against the bark above her two trees southwest of her, needles falling in their wake.

The rustle of wildlife was completely silenced by the growing weather.

She tasted the air slightly, the cold night soothing the bitter edges of her mana. The fresh mint and crisp snow caps sang a hushed melody as wind ripped through the trees once again.

Always two trees south.

Her stalker was evenly paced and well suited for their mission, she knew.

Any ordinary civilian would hear nothing.

Iliya's smile grew, sparks of her Raesa dispersing from her heels with each step. The energy skittered through the ground, weaving into the lifeforce inside each tree. She kept her pace even and assured, flicking thin darts of magic into the brush around her.

As she passed the bush she'd first seen when entering the forest, Iliya took a deep breath and prepared herself for the worst. Without assessing her surveillance physically, the city to the north might notice an all out battle.

The boots she'd marked dropped to the ground.

Iliya lifted her hood from her face, looking to the sky. If she appeared lost, her misshapen path would sell.

The snare was set.

For a few seconds, time froze like her breath in the night.

A few more steps helped her sense the sudden stir in the air.

The rushed attack felt impulsive and messy, making it easy for her to dive out of the way, rolling into a low stance.

Clad in black, the assailant's Zaverien leathers left little room for the imagination, an emerald hilt poking out from beneath thick layers. The figure slowly turned to face her, blue eyes gleaming.

Slender and nimble, a girl stood before her. Their eyes locked, a deep-seated dominance lurking beneath the surface of her attacker.

Iliya's grin spread, a glimmer of joy washing over her as the adrenaline settled.

Lifting her left hand, she snapped.

~ ~ ~

Creeping through the Estate gates required more finesse the second time. Sorein kept his back pressed to the thin silver bars, careful to step over the thicker beam welding them together.