#assassination plot

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Illario laid back on his bed with his feet on the floor and stared at the ceiling. A few rooms down he could hear a muffled argument in progress, as Lucanis traded words with Caterina in increasingly serious tones. The sounds had become a somewhat regular addition to the once quiet villa in recent days. None of the disagreements seemed to be particularly important, but it set his teeth on edge nevertheless.

As his cousin's voice quieted, Illario started tracing the diverging cracks in the plaster above with his eyes, beginning as he always did with a small dent where he had once thrown a practice sword in anger. The scar on his upper arm that particular bit of exuberance had cost him was now almost entirely faded unlike the memory, a thin pale line on his skin. In Illario's experience, quieter exchanges in family disagreements did not mean they were any less acrimonious, and he forced his shoulders to relax as he counted and chose each fork in the path.

As Illario's gaze reached a small water stain near the window, he heard a door slam in the distance. A humid sort of silence spread out beyond the retreating footsteps in the hall, pressing against the walls like the end of a storm not quite finished. A hush that was not quiet, not still.

Breathing.

"Anything I can help you with, Carina?" Illario sighed, not bothering to sit up. Not many people would enter his room without asking, much less make such a poor effort to remain hidden. He found it endearing, given how quiet she could be if she wanted.

"I wouldn't want to interrupt anything genuinely important," Carina sat down next to him, and laid back. He shifted his eyes to see her wavy purple hair falling away from her pointed ears in a careless fan on the white duvet. She squinted at the ceiling and gestured to the same dent he had been studying earlier. "Wait, what happened there?"

"A terrible battle, nearly forgotten to time," Illario smoothed his face into a relaxed half smile, shuffling his more pensive thoughts out of the way. "I won, but my cousin and I both lost when Caterina discovered we'd broken the bed and dented the ceiling. The forces of evil were thwarted, of course."

"Naturally," she laughed, and then sat up to look down at him. "Do you really want to sit in here while they argue about … whatever it is today? Teia said she had something interesting for you, if you have time in your crowded schedule."

"Oh?" Illario sat up quickly, and regretted it as his head swam for a moment, but he gave her a genuine smile in return anyway. "I would of course be honored to make time to call upon the Seventh Talon."

By mutual agreement, they exited off the balcony to Illario's room, and took the Crow's road to the top of the Cantori Diamond. Illario was not unhappy to avoid both his grandmother and cousin on the way out, and Carina didn't seem like she wanted to exchange niceties with anyone else either. Watchful eyes from the villa would note their departure, he was sure.

"I have work for you, Illario," Teia smiled as he walked into her office at the top of the casino not too long later. Lately, the desk at the center had more often than not been occupied by Viago de Riva, the Fifth Talon, but not today. Illario found that he didn't mind the absence of the man in the slightest. Carina flopped into a couch in the lounge nearby and was immediately swarmed by two of the Egrativi fledglings, all excited gestures and chatter.

"Anything fun?" Illario asked Teia with a quirked eyebrow, accepting the rolled up parchment she held out on his approach. He took the liberty of leaning up against the desk, a study in casual ease and long lines. Illario unrolled the scroll and gave the assignment a cursory read, noting that some of the terms referenced another recent contract of his.

"Lucanis agreed to loan you to my House for this job, if you are willing to take it on," Teia answered, hopping up to sit on the edge of the desk herself. "The work is from the same client as your last, but I've got a personal stake in this one, so you would report to me."

"Oh?" Illario picked out the section at the bottom where some of the details were outlined. "He stole from House Cantori, his own people, and managed to give the Venatori blackmail material on him in the process? He's either the Maker's least favorite child, or the man's a complete idiot."

"I'm afraid it is a bit of both," Teia sighed, and started to wind her mass of curls up behind her head in a bun, pinning it in place with a practiced efficiency. "I knew Moreno was being a bit creative with the books, but it seemed to keep him honest about the actual business. About eight months ago, all of that changed. He started skimming less and then getting into some genuine trouble as his main businesses started to falter."

"What do you think happened?" Illario asked, as she handed him a set of papers that looked like the details of a myriad of petty crimes. "He would have been better off turning himself over, and letting the Crows handle it if the Venatori were involved. It might have saved his skin."

"Not this time," Teia handed him a couple of letters, seals broken. "It turns out that the under-the-table business Cerio was up to was a broad ranging trafficking network through Antiva. Lucanis uncovered the edges of it as he started cleaning house after he returned. I would have killed Moreno for this alone, but when he started having trouble with the Antaam during the occupation, he partnered with the Venatori and made the situation even worse."

Illario sucked his teeth, and took a quick look at the letters. Some Crow houses turned a blind eye to the illegal trafficking of people in and out of Antiva, or outright participated for profit, but House Cantori were not among either group. Militantly so, as a point of pride. Moreno had to know it was a death sentence as soon as he started.

"So how did this catch our client's eye?" Illario asked after he'd had a chance to read through the contract and letters. "It seems like Crow business."

"The bastard is holed up in Minrathous, closing out his accounts, killing a bunch of their people, and getting ready to disappear," Teia replied as she put on an eye catching set of golden hoop earrings, linking them to several smaller piercings along her ear with a delicate chain. "I want him dead, I want our people back, and I want it to be public enough that everyone in Antiva and Tevinter will know what happens when you take from my House and our people."

"And the Shadow Dragons probably want a lot of the same things," Illario grinned, throwing up his hands as Teia shot him a look at the assumption. "I am not speculating on our mysterious client, merely the allies I may have at my disposal. Minrathous is a big city, and do not want to leave any resource unused."

"Good," Teia laughed and hopped off the desk, looking up at Illario. "I'll send over the rest of the details tomorrow. Now shoo. I need to finish getting ready for dinner."

"Oh? Should I send the Fifth Talon my compliments?"

"Not if you enjoy breathing freely," Teia laughed and patted him on the cheek. "He's been avoiding me, and I'm bored with that so I'm going to go find out why. I don't know if he'll be in the mood for exchanging… pleasantries."

Forty-one years is more than old enough to understand war and death. No one bothers as much to keep the younglings from hearing their chatter when the kingdom is in an uproar. Lord Nyrik killed the king, they say, and Nyx is filled with pride. Her father got rid of the evil king. That’s a wonderful thing, right?

Except Nashanns are being carried into the manor and laid out on the parlor floor, bloody and broken and crying out in pain. Nyx scurries around and does her part, fetching water and bandages for the medics, trying not to let her gaze linger on the grisly wounds and the still, grey faces of the soldiers they didn’t get to in time.

Her father never comes back, nor her oldest brother, Ekan. The news that Lord Nyrik was captured by the Aelinai travels quickly. Immediately executed, most people say, though no one seems to have actually seen it happen.

At forty-one years, her father is dead, her home is ripped away from her, and her life is never the same again.

At forty-two years, she’s old enough to become the key to her mother’s plan for revenge. She doesn’t understand why she’s been chosen when Nanki and even Kiaan are older, but she doesn’t question her mother. They may not be living in a manor anymore, but even in the forest Lady Inaksha is in command, leading the entire Nashann clan in their survival. Nyx admires her strength every day. She wants to be just like her, but her mother tells her that she’s not meant to be a leader.

She is meant to be a weapon.

So she trains with the soldiers, the youngest they’ve ever had among them. She learns to hunt, to wield a knife, to shoot an arrow. She learns to run for miles without faltering, to lift weights that the grown men use.

When she reaches sixty years - finally, officially an adult - she begins her own, personal training under Lady Inaksha’s watchful eye. Here is where she finds the strength that she’s always searched for. She learns to separate herself, to care deeply about her people’s prosperity while understanding that she isn’t truly a part of them. She learns to take pain without bending.

She learns to kill and not care.

Nyx is eighty years when she stands before her mother and siblings, unflinching as Lady Inaksha circles and studies her.

“What are you?”

She stares straight ahead, ignoring the bored looks on Nanki and Kiaan’s faces. “I am a weapon, wielded by your hand.”

“Who is your enemy?”

“King Baelor and all of the Aelinai.”

“What is your purpose?”

“To avenge my father.”

“And how will you do so?”

“I will infiltrate the Aelinai royal family, and I will kill them.”