In the far land of Asxairo, off the distant ruins of the Rovien Sea lives a damnation to the kingdoms. She is something beyond the great bounds of the ancestors and the Gods. She is an unstoppable force and she has a mission to complete.
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The next two days seemed to pass by in agonizing speed. After selling her soul to Rheynoak, Onyx had shamefully excused herself out of his office to ponder on her next move, taking breaks in between to cry in the dark.
The dread in her stomach was too much for her to bear and every time she looked up at the sky, she could feel the ancestors eyeing her, confirming her suspicions that she had signed herself on a mission with death.
Rheynoak had announced the mission to everyone the following day during breakfast, effectively humiliating her.
But the humiliation she felt was no match to the look Venix gave her when she found out with everyone else, her violet eyes watching her with disappointment. She kept her distance and avoided her gaze during training, ignoring when Onyx greeted her.
The feeling of dread stayed with her as she rose out of bed the next day, looking out her window at the dark sky, the silhouette of the pyramids grey under the morning fog. She looked around her space, eyeing her packed bags and her brandished weapons.
It was unusually quiet as she gathered her robe and a few clothes before venturing out into the morning cold, stifling a yawn as she made her way to the bathhouse.
The bathhouse was silent as she slipped inside the door, the scent of jasmine filling the air as she stepped into a dim candlelit room, a small pool waiting for her.
After several trips between the well and the pool and throwing hot stones into the cold water, she sunk her body into the warm embrace of the water. Her muscles screamed in relief as she stretched, a groan escaping her lips. Onyx delved underwater, submerging herself in the water before emerging, brushing her short hair aside.
Resting her head against the edge of the pool, Onyx closed her eyes, running through all the possible outcomes of the mission.
They all pointed to death.
Death was always an option and she had brushed shoulders with it too many times to consider herself lucky. Death was her partner, always following, always invading her. Waiting, silently waiting for the perfect opportunity to dispose of her.
This wasn't her first mission. She had killed and slaughtered many at the hands of her blade and not an ounce of sympathy had slipped through her soul in those moments and the mysterious woman was no threat to her sword.
But the thought of never coming back was what stopped her every time. The thought of leaving the tribe grounds, leaving Venix, made her freeze.
The fact that her friend wasn't talking to her made her ache more.
Onyx sighed, resting her hand on her chest as she steadied her thoughts. "Get a grip of yourself, Ashrevion" she whispered to herself, shaking her head.
She took a deep breath, slowing down her heart. For the sake of her friend, she would do it.
