The King's Mercenary
- Reads 233
- Votes 40
- Parts 16
MatureOngoing2h 15m
Last published Sat, Nov 19, 2016
Under the attack of a neighboring country, King Livingston was desperate for protection for his family. So desperate that he was willing to hire a mercenary to protect them. The mercenary goes by the name of Shadow, a teenage girl who's mental stability was in question. Seemingly cold hearted and utterly emotionless with the occasional anger, Shadow can hardly be considered a good person. It had never bothered her, she was fine with the way she was. But working in the castle was enough to make both her and King Livingston reconsider their outlook on life. Running from her past, Shadow realizes that there are some things that you simply can't run from. But perhaps with new friends she hadn't expected to make, the confrontation may not be as bad as she had originally anticipated.
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The Shadow of the East is a monster. Tyrin Caderyn is no better. They've met before, but memory painted each a ghost and a flicker of familiarity. Both of them hail from strong and vicious bloodlines. Time and tragedy and choice bind them together. War is on the horizon, and Shadow is in the midst of schemes and plans greater than her. She's on the run from a man she learned to hate, and her own past. Her secrets can destroy her. Tyrin is an Elite warrior for the Ilystari Realm and answers only to the king and queen. When he's sent to hunt down a powerful female, he doesn't question the orders. But when he meets her, everything changes. Darkness encroaches and alliances break. Bonds are formed and friendships shatter. There is a greater power at play than either of them realized. Has fate drawn them together, or something stronger? -- She huffed a quiet laugh. "Well, I suppose I'll get paid one way or another for his death. If you let me keep his body, you have a deal." Tyrin darted his eyes back to gauge the honesty of her response, but she sounded sincere. He finally nodded. Her grin was nothing shy of wicked. Something inside his chest reared it's sleeping head and purred at that expression. "I hope you and I never meet again. These Realms aren't ready for us." Weren't ready for her, he wanted to correct. A shiver of a promise zinged through his blood and he grinned back at her. "What's your name, little assassin?" She started melting back into the shadows - back the way she'd come to give him the privacy of the kill. "I am no one and nothing. Forget about me, pretty male. It won't do to dwell on a shadow." And then she was gone.
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