The Silent oath

Chapter 7: First Solo Mission

At fifteen, the black robes and gold stripes I wore had become more than just symbols of my rank; they were a testament to the years of relentless training and the challenges I had overcome. As Matron Rheneares' apprentice, I had honed my skills to a fine edge, ready for the most daunting tasks The Family could present. The time had come for my first solo mission, a crucial test of everything I had learned.

The mission was to assassinate a priest of Bhaal who had been causing significant trouble for The Family and several local nobles. The priest, a man named Father Garth, was known for his fiery sermons and influence over the local populace. He had been inciting unrest, and his actions had begun to interfere with The Family's operations. My task was not only to eliminate him but to frame someone from the village for the murder, ensuring that suspicion never fell on The Family.

Matron Rheneares briefed me in her private chambers, the atmosphere tense with the gravity of the mission. "Zai, this is a delicate operation. Father Garth is well-guarded and highly suspicious of strangers. You must blend in, earn his trust, and strike when he least expects it. Remember, precision and subtlety are key."

I nodded, absorbing every word. "Who should I frame for the murder?"

"A blacksmith named Joren. He has a contentious history with Father Garth and a temper that has often led to public outbursts. The villagers would easily believe he could commit such a crime in a fit of rage," she replied, handing me a small vial of poison and a forged letter implicating Joren.

For the next few days, I meticulously prepared for the mission. Disguised as a traveling healer, I made my way to the village where Father Garth resided. The village was quaint, with cobblestone streets and modest houses, the kind of place where everyone knew each other's business. My disguise allowed me to blend in seamlessly, and I quickly established myself, offering my services to the villagers.

I observed Father Garth from a distance, learning his routines and habits. He was a tall, imposing man with a stern face, his eyes sharp and judgmental. His sermons were passionate, often condemning those he deemed unworthy and stirring the villagers into fervor. Despite his harsh demeanor, he was well-respected, and his influence was undeniable.

On the fourth day, I found an opportunity to approach him. He had injured his hand while performing some ritualistic task and reluctantly agreed to let me tend to it. As I treated his wound, I engaged him in conversation, carefully steering the discussion towards the troubles in the village and his role in maintaining order.

"Your sermons are truly inspiring, Father Garth," I said, applying a soothing balm to his hand. "The villagers speak highly of you and your dedication to Bhaal."

He regarded me with suspicion, but my earnest demeanor seemed to disarm him. "It is my duty to guide them and ensure they follow the righteous path. Bhaal demands obedience and sacrifice."

Over the next few days, I continued to gain his trust, attending his sermons and offering my assistance whenever possible. I learned that he often spent his evenings alone in the chapel, praying and preparing for the next day's sermon. It was during one of these solitary evenings that I planned to strike.

The night was dark and quiet, the village hushed in slumber. I made my way to the chapel, my heart pounding with anticipation and fear. Inside, the flickering candlelight cast eerie shadows on the walls. Father Garth was kneeling before the altar, deep in prayer. His back was to me, providing the perfect opportunity.

I approached silently, the vial of poison hidden in my sleeve. With practiced ease, I uncorked the vial and poured a few drops onto a cloth. Moving closer, I pressed the cloth to his face, holding it firmly until his struggles ceased. The poison acted quickly, and within moments, he was lifeless.

I placed the forged letter in his hand, ensuring it appeared as though Joren had written it in a fit of rage. The letter accused Father Garth of heresy and corruption, providing a motive for the blacksmith to murder the priest. Satisfied with my work, I slipped out of the chapel and made my way back to the inn where I was staying.

The next morning, the village was in an uproar. News of Father Garth's murder spread like wildfire, and suspicion quickly fell on Joren, as planned. The blacksmith protested his innocence, but the letter and his reputation sealed his fate. The villagers were convinced, and he was taken into custody, his protests falling on deaf ears.

Returning to The Family's headquarters, I felt a mix of emotions. The mission had been successful, but the weight of my actions hung heavily on my shoulders. I had taken a life, framed an innocent man, and sown chaos in the village. It was a stark reminder of the dark path I had chosen.

Matron Rheneares awaited my return, her expression unreadable. "How did it go?" she asked, her tone calm but expectant.

"Father Garth is dead, and Joren has been blamed for the murder," I replied, keeping my voice steady. "The villagers are convinced he did it."

She nodded approvingly. "Well done, Zai. You have proven your capability and loyalty. This is only the beginning. There will be many more missions, each one more challenging than the last. Remember, our work is not just about skill, but also about maintaining control and influence."

As I left Matron Rheneares' chambers, I encountered Alicent in the corridor. She had grown over the years, now seventeen, her changeling features more refined and her demeanor more confident. She was about to face the apprentice selection process, a significant milestone in her journey within The Family.

"Alicent," I called, approaching her with a smile. "How are you feeling about the selection process?"

She smiled back, though I could see the nervousness in her eyes. "I'm ready, Zai. I've trained hard, and I want to make you proud."

"You already have," I assured her. "Just remember to stay focused and trust in your training."

We made our way to the Grand Hall, where the selection process was to take place. The atmosphere was tense, filled with anticipation and determination. The overseers and Masters were seated at the long table, ready to evaluate the candidates.

As the process began, I watched with bated breath. Alicent stepped forward, her movements graceful and confident. She demonstrated her skills with precision, each action a testament to her dedication and hard work. When her name was called for the final announcement, my heart pounded in my chest.

"Alicent," Mistress Seraphine announced, "You have been chosen as an apprentice under Master Thorne."

A wave of pride and relief washed over me as I watched Alicent step forward to accept her new role. Master Thorne, a rugged man with a rough exterior, nodded approvingly. "You have shown great potential, Alicent. Under my guidance, you will learn the skills necessary to serve The Family."

Alicent glanced back at me, her eyes shining with determination and gratitude. I nodded encouragingly, proud of her accomplishment and excited for her future.

As the ceremony concluded, I approached her, pulling her into a tight embrace. "You did it, Alicent. I'm so proud of you."

"Thank you, Zai," she whispered, her voice filled with emotion. "I couldn't have done it without your support."

We parted ways, each of us embarking on our own paths within The Family. The road ahead was filled with challenges and uncertainties, but I knew that with my training, my friends, and the lessons I had learned from Matron Rheneares, I was ready to face whatever lay ahead.