Solace and Nox: A New Light

Chapter 11

Cytra had her first assignment.

She never felt so alive. She zipped through the shadows faster than usual. The moon's glow was hidden by the clouds, making the entire city her domain of darkness. She never felt a sense of purpose, but with this mission, she finally knew what it was like.

As she headed toward her target, she thought about the last thing Moldark gave her before leaving that abandoned building the night before. He showed her how to be precise and accurate with her powers, demonstrated some new abilities, and gave her a gift.

Moldark formed a jagged, obsidian-blade short sword from nothing. It seemed to materialize in his hands, as if appearing from another realm.

"Take this," he said. "When you complete your mission, plunge this into his heart. I promise you, that the pain that this blade inflicts will be more pain than anyone has ever felt in a lifetime. It will make their deaths very painful."

"And what if they survive?" Cytra asked.

"Don't let that happen. If they live, you have failed your mission," he said. "However, to answer the question, if their blood is infected by the blade, it will affect their entire bodies. There is almost no chance of survival against this blade."

Cytra thought of Markis, Sunshine's friend. He survived the blade. But, it left him physically incapable of a lot. Was he one of those lucky survivors, or was his destiny sealed by the blade?

"It will be done," Cytra replied.

"It will be done, my Lord," he corrected.

The wind was brisk against her face. Her hood flipped off and her dark hair trailed her as she ran. She never felt more alive.

Her target was dead ahead. Moldark had told her exactly where to go. She had memorized the city completely, so she instinctively knew where to go. Among the city's skyline was a slightly taller building. It was one of the many medical centers around the city. She headed straight for it. That is where her target lied.

Cytra leapt onto a shorter building in a single bound. From there, she hopped from building to building until she reached the hospital. She jumped to the fifth story window, grabbed hold of the windowsill, and peered inside the room. It appeared to be empty. The room was dark, and with the moon covered, there was very little light coming in through the window.

It was time to use the skills that Moldark trained her to use. She closed her eyes, and imagined herself in that empty hospital room. She inhaled deeply, feeling the darkness envelop her, and her feet were suddenly on solid ground, and she was no longer hanging on the windowsill. She staggered a bit, but the Shadowtraveling wasn't nearly as difficult as she'd imagined. Her eyes shot open, and she was looking out the window... from the opposite end.

She spun around, toward the door. She was about to move forward, but then she hastily checked to see if the sword was still at her side. She drew the jagged blade and sighed. She didn't want to lose the blade. Moldark would not be happy about that.

She crept forward, trying not to make a noise. She was going to disappear into the shadows, but she didn't want to use up all her magic. She needed to be strong when she approached the target.

She carefully pulled the door open. The hallway, unlike the hospital room she was in, was lit by candles. A guard was slowly pacing the hallway. Cytra pulled away from the door quickly. She was not expecting a guard to be in the hospital. Why did King Lotharius have to be so careful all the time?

Moldark's words filled her mind. She shuddered at the thought of his voice, but she listened to it.

"If anyone gets in the way of the job, get them out of your way."

Which, of course, meant kill them.

She peeked out to the hallway. The guard was moving toward her, so she carefully waited for him to turn around. He seemed to be very tired, and moved like a zombie, holding his spear awkwardly.

He turned around and Cytra absorbed more darkness. She was ready to finish the job, but was unsure of herself. Did she really need to kill him? He was innocent... wasn't he?

She zipped right behind the guard and hit his head with the butt of her sword. Moldark wouldn't ever know that she left one guard alive. Right before the guard hit the ground, Cytra caught him, and placed his limp body on the floor quietly. She couldn't afford to be caught on her first mission, or any mission for that matter.

She continued quickly down the hallway until she reached the door she was told to open. Behind that door was her target. Her heart was racing, and the adrenaline inside her spiked. She pushed the door open and slipped into the shadows.

On the opposite end of the room, near the window, was a man in a rocking chair, reading a book. The room was lit only by a small lamp. The man hardly noticed the ajar door. If he did notice, he didn't care. He was too immersed in the story.

Cytra closed the door, purposely making a noise, to see if he'd notice.

He turned his head, but didn't turn around completely. He carefully closed his book and set it aside. Cytra stood up straight, the blade in her hand shook. This was the moment that she had been waiting for, for so long... and she was terrified.

The man stood, turning on an extra light, removing his reading glasses. When he saw Cytra, he dropped his glasses. They shattered when the hit the floor.

Cytra stood facing the man who had caused her so much pain. The man who caused Cytra to fall into the darkness. The man who ultimately betrayed her so many years ago.

"Hello, Jitlan," she said, lifting her hood so he could see her face more clearly.

Jitlan, who was much older now, was terrified. His light brown hair had streaks of grey in them. His usually clean shaven face was dotted by little grey hairs, and wrinkles were beginning to line his face.

"Cytra," he gasped.

Cytra slowly, and shakily, moved forward. Her hands trembled in anger. There was a fire in her gaze, and Jitlan could clearly see it. Her trembling was even more noticeable than his. He stepped back, and hit the window.

"Wh-what are you doing here?" he sputtered.

"You know why I'm here," she said gravely. "You betrayed me."

His fearful face had a hint of guilt. He knew exactly what she meant. "Cytra, you know I was faced with an impossible decision."

"That's no excuse for what you did," she spat. "My mother is dead because of your selfishness! She was all I had, and now I have nothing!"

Her voice grew stronger and louder the closer she came to Jitlan. She, without thinking, absorbed more and more darkness. A dark aura formed around her. It usually wasn't visible, but thanks to Jitlan's much needed light, it made it appear, making her look more threatening than usual.

His eyes widened. "You succumbed to the darkness."

"Thanks to you, I am powerful," Cytra explained. "This darkness is my only ally in life. It protects me from people like you. People who are too proud to admit that they are just as dark as me."

"Cytra, it doesn't have to be this way," he pleaded.

She advanced until she was almost nose to nose with the man.

"Yes," she whispered. "It does."

She shoved the blade straight through Jitlan's heart, just as Moldark had instructed. All the veins in his body were suddenly black, and his physical being immediately looked old and frail. The blade seemed to literally drain all power from its victims. Cytra watched as the life drained from his eyes. She stared back into those lifeless eyes with a fiery rage.

She ripped the blade from his chest and kicked him out the window. It felt like Cytra had kicked a rag doll. The crash of the shattering glass was followed by silence. Jitlan was so powerless that he couldn't even scream.

Suddenly, the surrounding buildings, and the one she was in, was filled with noise. Cytra heard the door beginning to move. Before anyone could see her, she leapt from the window and slipped into the shadows, completely unnoticed.

The deed was done.