Beyond the shores of the Sea of Shadows, the weather was sunny and warm. It was the season of early autumn; the leaves on the trees were turning yellow, slowly falling until the branches would be left entirely bare. The once-verdant fields were changing color, and the winds typical of autumn heralded the coming of winter to the people.

  The trade route, which was always busy, was no exception today; it was crowded with caravans. Merchants of all kinds entered, seeking to earn a living from their crafts, pushing toward the massive gates that served as the entrance to the city. Most of these merchants were refugees from Moorveil, trying their luck elsewhere. The majority crossed the magnificent and giant bridge of Insoltar, fleeing the reach of Eldraen.

  Among those in line today was one such fugitive—a wine merchant, about sixty years old. He had fled Eldraen because producing wine there meant giving it away for free unless you were of high birth or appointed by the king. This was especially true in a city like Moorveil, where thieves from the city of the Watchtower of Lorn prowled, stealing items from a man's house so skillfully that he would only realize what had happened the following day.

  Now, the man had arrived here. He had heard only stories and rumors of the city he was about to enter—a city that would make Valmare look like a foul-smelling, neglected village. A city where law and order existed, where human life was valued above animals, and where peace prevailed. The man did not fully believe it; having been raised in hardship, he could not imagine a place where people like him would not be belittled or insulted, where no one would turn up their nose while passing them by.

  The line moved, and as the man passed beyond the city walls, he beheld the myth, the fairy tale he had been told. The picture they had painted for him had now become reality.

  The city of Ael'Tharyn truly made Valmare look like a neglected village. The streets were clean, the stalls were organized, and the drinking fountains flowed with pure water. In the center of the city stood a fountain depicting a dragon and a serpent. What amazed the man most was that not a single person sat in the street begging. The man’s thoughts were scattered; to him, it all seemed too good to be true.

  He soon realized that wine merchants in this city required special certification to sell their wares. To avoid trouble, the man pulled his wine-laden cart into a dark alleyway, intending to hide it there until he obtained his papers. Suddenly, he heard footsteps behind him. Three men appeared, dressed in black.

  Terror struck the man, and he thought: “Just my luck. I flee from thieves only to find them in a thiefless city.”

  The thieves said nothing as they approached the old man. The merchant had no desire to defend himself, nor did he have the strength; he preferred to surrender his goods and leave the alley unharmed—it wouldn't be the first time. However, the thieves seemed to have other plans. They knocked the old man down and began to kick him.

  A young man at the entrance of the alley noticed this. He did not cry out; instead, he immediately ran to find the city guard. The boy reached the guard station where officers usually stood, but this time no one was there except the captain and his two main officers. The boy told them what he had seen.

  "Wretched thieves," the captain muttered to himself. "We should throw them all into cells at once." He ordered the boy to lead the way.

  The boy brought them to the alley and then went on his way. The Commander and his officers walked through the dark passage, but they found no struggle. The old man was leaning against the wall; his nose was bleeding, but he did not look severely beaten. On the ground lay the three attackers, unconscious. One had broken limbs, the second a broken nose and jaw, and the third a cracked skull.

  The Commander smiled and scanned the area once more. It was then he noticed two amber eyes glowing in the dark, staring at him.

  "You are late, Commander," a voice called from the shadows. "How is it that you always beat me?" the Commander asked.

  The figure in the darkness slowly stepped into the light. "You are getting old, Commander. But to be honest, you were never known for your swiftness," the amber-eyed man replied.

  "Arthur," the man smiled. "Madias," Arthur replied.

  They embraced warmly, as if they hadn't seen each other in a century. "How did you disappear like that? I haven't seen you once in the city," Madias asked. "The King’s assignments. Lately, he wants more people dead than he used to. Besides, even when I am in the city, they call me the Shadow Assassin, and I have a reputation to maintain. If you had seen me, it would mean I wasn't doing my job properly," Arthur answered.

  "Alright, alright, don't let it go to your head. Pride is a man's primary enemy." "It isn't pride if the mastery is real," Arthur retorted. Madias shook his head. Just then, one of the King’s servants appeared.

  "Sir Madias. Arthur." Madias asked, "What is the matter? Does the King need something?" "Nothing from you, Sir Madias. The King has business with Arthur."

  "Another contract," Arthur whispered to Madias. But the servant spoke up: "Not just a contract, Shadow Assassin. The King has a matter with you. If it were a mere contract, he would have told me, but he summons you to his presence personally."

  Arthur took on a satisfied look and said to Madias: "See? I shall receive a gift from the King before you do." "Don't be so hopeful. The King is a very unpredictable man. Make sure he doesn't send you out of there without your head instead of a gift," the knight joked. "If he intends such a thing, know that I won't go down without a fight." "Of course." "Now go, Arthur. We shall talk after the meeting. There is something I wish to tell you,” The knight told the assassin. "Very well, Madias. But do not forget." "How could I forget?" Madias asked, puzzled. "I don't know; age brings memory problems. This might be one of them," Arthur said with a laugh. The knight replied: "Go, go, before I take that head myself!"

  Arthur bowed to the knight and headed toward the palace. The streets of Ael'Tharyn were peaceful yet vibrant—merchants, taverns, and neatly lined stalls. The people were well-dressed, smiling, and full of energy. A divine scent of chrysanthemums, camellias, and catnip swirled through the streets. The people were happy; not all were wealthy, but everyone had a home, a job, food, and clothing, and this satisfied them.

  In the streets of Ael'Tharyn, there were also many enchanting women who were more beautiful than any in Eldraen. The women of this land were distinguished by their grace and charm, especially those of the royal and noble families who possessed the purest blood.

  Arthur walked through the streets, observing every detail and committing it to memory. Arthur was not ordinary, and the court had learned long ago not to ask why. Legend had it that the King had discovered Arthur in an abandoned tower. His father had been found dead, and his mother was nowhere to be seen. Arthur’s father was the last Chosen King, a High Shadow Slayer who, judging by his wounds, had been taken by a Forest Demon.

  The King knew exactly what such warriors were capable of, so he decided to keep the boy, entrusting him to Sir Madias to be trained. Now, he was the strongest assassin and warrior of the Royal Court.

  Every young woman in the street stared at Arthur—a sixteen-year-old youth whose face looked as if it were carved from marble and fitted with amber eyes. He had long, thick black hair and was as muscular and strong as a lion, yet as silent and unnoticed as a cat. Arthur’s senses were not human. Control was the only thing that made them survive. At first, Arthur used these powers uncontrollably and suffered because of it, but over time he learned to master them. Only extreme tension or nervousness could make him lose this control.

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  He was also granted immunity to all kinds of poison, as Shadow-Slayers developed immunity over time through the bites of ancient serpents and various poisonous beasts. To many, this seemed like a gift, but there was a reason the kings and high nobility kept no personal relationships with them. They were said to have lost most of their humanity — or perhaps simply learned how to bury it. Only their one true love could grant them the ability to feel these things, but often that never happened; in the eyes of humans, they were beasts.

  Arthur, too, was largely emotionally closed. Over the years, he had learned how to express emotion, but he never truly understood or felt why he did it. Yet he found it strange; he understood it partially but still couldn't grasp why.

  Arthur finally crossed the street and reached the outer gate of the palace, where he was met by his closest friend, the knight Eraklys of Silvaris. "Where are you off to, brother?" Eraklys asked. "The King wished to see me. He has an important matter." "You and an 'important matter'? I can't believe it," the knight joked. "Of all the knights and people in this city, you should not be the one talking to me about seriousness." "What is it, Artie? Are your feelings hurt?" Eraklys asked provocatively. "You'll have to do a bit more than that to make me angry, Eraklys," Arthur replied. "Fine, fine. Go about your business."

  Arthur nodded and entered the inner palace grounds. He walked the cobblestone path and reached the Garden of Aelys, named in honor of the great warrior Aelys who had planted it. The garden was covered in green grass and giant trees that seemed to pierce the sky, their branches catching the heavens. Countless flowers of multiple colors adorned the place with their fragrance.

  From a distance, Arthur caught sight of the young Prince Aelys, his twin brother Karyon, and their younger sister, Princess Melaria. He saw them playing in the grass, enjoying themselves. Arthur also saw their uncle, Loromis Izen, playing and laughing with the children. Beside them stood Queen Seralyne Izen, a woman of otherworldly beauty. Twenty-eight years old, with silver and gold hair and light green eyes, she had a perfect figure, a slender waist, long thin legs, and flawless skin. She wore a light green dress made of the rarest high-quality silk.

  The Queen always tried to appear stoic and cold to the people, but she never succeeded; by nature, she was soft, gentle, and kind. She couldn't even treat an insect with cruelty. Though she held a serious position, personally, she was just a big child—very shrewd, sharp-minded, educated, and cunning.

  Arthur did not want to cross their path now, but he had no choice; the road to the palace went right through where they were sitting. He passed the giant statue of a Golden Dragon and continued his way. When the young princes noticed him, they immediately shouted: "Arthur!"

  They ran toward him. Arthur smiled and knelt to meet them. The princes pounced on him and toppled him into the grass. After playing for a bit, they turned to their mother and said, "Look, Mother, we have defeated the Shadow Assassin!" The Queen approached them, smiling at their words. The little princess wanted to go too, but her uncle stopped her, saying, "The princes and your mother are talking to the assassin now; if you wish to listen to that boring conversation, go ahead." The princess changed her mind.

  The Queen reached the princes and said, "Boys, go to your uncle. I have business with Arthur." "But Mother..." "Go to your uncle," the Queen repeated.

  Arthur stood up, straightened his cloak, and bowed low. "My Queen." "Where are you headed, Arthur?" she asked. "Your husband wished to see me. I am going there." "Interesting," the Queen whispered. "I don't know many people who refer to Vaelor as 'my husband' instead of his title." "My Queen, I meant no offense," Arthur said quietly. "None taken," she replied. "Walk with me, Arthur." "The King is waiting for me, my Queen. He does not like to be kept waiting." "Will you not obey the Queen's command?" Seralyne asked. "Of course, but..." "No 'buts', she interrupted. "Come."

  The Queen began walking through the gardens. Arthur took a deep breath and followed. For a while, she walked in silence, passing a beautiful path of marigolds, then cyclamens, and finally, they found themselves in a place shaded by trees. Only then did she stop and ask Arthur: "Tell me, Arthur, when my husband gives you a task, do you always perform it without question?" "In most cases, my Queen." "Tell me, if the Queen were to ask you to do something, would you do it?" "Do you need something?" Arthur replied, confused. "Nothing now. But if I were to need it, would you perform my task as well?" "Of course, whatever you ask," Arthur answered. "Whatever I ask? Even if the task was too difficult?" "Your Grace, if a task proves too difficult for me, you will not find another soul who can fulfill it for you." "Really? And why do you think so?" the Queen persisted. “Because if there were someone better, I wouldn’t be standing here.”

  The Queen chuckled. "I smell arrogance. What makes you think you are the best?" "I am stronger, quieter, more cunning, and smarter than any assassin in Aelvarys," Arthur replied. "Smarter?" she asked, appearing surprised. "Yes, my Queen." "You consider yourself smart, Arthur. That is good, and it is true," the Queen agreed, taking a step closer to him. Arthur was surprised by her action. "I..." "But you are not as smart as you think, Arthur. Nor are you so relentless."

  The Queen approached Arthur within span’s distance, locked eyes with him, and leaned closer. Arthur became nervous and lost control. His senses heightened; he heard everything—the fluttering of butterfly wings, the crawling of insects, the rustling of leaves, and the heartbeats of both him and the Queen.

  The difference was that his heart was pounding uncontrollably, while the Queen’s was calm and steady. Suddenly, a terrifyingly loud noise exploded in Arthur’s ears, momentarily deafening him. He recoiled a few steps in pain. He quickly regained his senses and looked at the Queen.

  She had snapped her fingers right next to his ear. Because of his amplified hearing, it sounded as if a city had been blown up beside his head. The Queen gave him a slight smile and left. Arthur watched her go, thinking: No one had ever used his own senses against him.

  Arthur came to his senses, composed himself, and walked with a quick pace toward the council room. He reached the gate, and the guards let him in. He passed through the throne hall; the walls were decorated with white quartz and purple Aelvaryan diamonds. Massive golden pillars rose up, also adorned with diamonds—this time rarer red ones. At the end of the hall stood the magnificent throne, made of Aelvaryan red diamond, rare green Galvarad gyopris stones, and a glowing Sun Stone that no one knew the origin of.

  Arthur reached the council hall, where his friends, the knights Shiron the Tall of Aelvarys and Lukyres Makier, the Captain of the King’s Guard, were standing watch. "Arthur looked at them both and said, "Well, will you let me in or shall I wait much longer?" "Wait, amber eyes, all in good time," Lukyres replied. "Amber-eyes? Know that I’ll make time for you in sparring. I suppose you've missed lying on the cold stone," Arthur shot back. "You know, if the King orders your head to be cut off, I’ll be the one who has to do it," Lukyres said with feigned pride. "It will be a grand sight to see who cuts whose head. Do you seriously think I’ll just surrender?" "I won't be alone." Lukyres looked at Shiron, who was much taller than Arthur. Arthur himself was tall, but Shiron was unnaturally large and possessed immense strength. "Good. Then your chances have moved from 'impossible' to 'maybe', brother," Arthur replied with a smile. Luks laughed. "How has a man as proud as you survived so long in this business?" "You have to commit to the right work," Arthur told him, patted both on the shoulder, and entered the room.

  Silence hung in the room. King Vaelor sat in the center, surrounded by his advisors, with the High Mage and the King's Right Hand at his sides. "Your Majesty." Arthur knelt. "Arthur, arise," the King said. "You were informed that I have an important matter with you." "Yes, my King." "You have served me faithfully all these years. Because of this, you have never asked for or received a gift. This is my mistake." "I was only doing my duty, my King. What need was there for a gift?" Arthur said. "Let us be honest, Arthur. Right now, you are thinking that I am right and this should have happened long ago." "How could you think so, my King?" Arthur denied. "Enough. Regarding your gift—name, one wish. If it is within my power and I deem it necessary, I shall grant it."

  Arthur thought for a long time, then began quietly: "This is a great honor, my King. I would like something that makes my service to you easier. I ask the High Mage if there is a way to grant my ring the ability to detect magic and give me a sign." The King listened with surprise, seemingly not understanding why he needed such a thing. "Often, lords hide information and plans behind magical illusions. If I can recognize them with the help of an artifact, I will be able to expose them." The King looked at the High Mage and asked, "Is this possible?" The elder replied, "It is possible, my King, but there is one problem: the ring must be of strong origin and material, otherwise it will not withstand such magic." Arthur took off his ring. "My King, Sir Madias told me this ring has magical origins. Let’s try and see if it works." The King agreed. The High Mage examined the ring and said, "It should work."

  "Splendid," said the King, turning to Arthur. "You shall receive your ring, but before that, I have another task." "I am listening, my King." "A mysterious man has appeared in the city. In the past week, he has raped and beaten five virgins. This cannot be left as it is; the love of the people is paramount. No one else has been able to catch him, so I entrust this to you, Arthur." Arthur nodded once. “It will be done.” "Good. Then set about your task. You are dismissed."

  Arthur left the council room. "It seems you kept your head today, Arthur," Lukyres called out immediately. "Be careful, Lukyres. Don't lose yours while worrying about mine." With that, Arthur left the palace. He sat down nearby for a moment to rest but then remembered what Madias had said and soon headed toward the city to find him.