Chapter 20 – An Assassin’s Nightmare

A shadow detached itself from the moonless night.

It clung to the stone walls of Starfall Academy, a sliver of darkness moving with unnatural silence. The assassin, known only as Kael the Whisper, slipped through the open window of the target’s dorm room. The space was simple. It was sparse. A single bed, a plain wooden desk, and a tall, narrow window that overlooked the sprawling academy grounds.

Kael’s eyes, adjusted to the gloom, found his target immediately. A lump under a cheap wool blanket.

(This is the fearsome Alfred Nightshade? The boy whose presence makes seasoned warriors tremble? It’s a joke.)

Kael drew a long, thin dagger from its sheath, the dark metal absorbing the faint moonlight. He crept across the floorboards without a sound, his movements like smoke. The boy on the bed was completely still. This would be the easiest job of his career. He stood over the bed, raising the blade high, aiming for the spot on the blanket where a neck should be.

A snore echoed in the quiet room.

It was a deep, rumbling sound, like a bear dreaming of honey. It wasn’t just a sound; it was a presence. Kael felt the air itself vibrate, a low thrum that seemed to press in on him from all sides. He froze, dagger held aloft.

(What is this pressure? Is this his aura? He’s trying to stop my heart with pure killing intent while remaining asleep. A passive intimidation technique… legendary.)

The boy on the bed shifted, mumbling something incoherent. The words were slurred, distorted by sleep.

“No… not the… pop quiz…”

Kael felt a chill that had nothing to do with the night air. He took a half-step back, his confidence beginning to fray.

(A code. He’s speaking in code. He knows I’m here. ‘Pop quiz’… is that the name of my operation? Or is he warning me of the test I’m about to fail? The test of life and death?)

He shook his head, clearing the thoughts. He was Kael the Whisper, the finest assassin in the eastern territories. He would not be unnerved by a sleep-talking teenager. He gripped his dagger tighter, knuckles white. He leaned over the bed once more, blade poised for the silent, fatal plunge.

Alfred rolled over.

It was a sudden, jerky movement, the kind someone makes when they’re about to fall off the edge of the bed. He flopped onto his other side, pulling the blanket with him and turning his back completely to the assassin.

Kael threw himself backward, landing in a silent crouch against the far wall. His heart hammered against his ribs. The boy’s movement had been clumsy, random. But in the split-second before it happened, Kael’s instincts had screamed at him. He had felt a shift in the room, a displacement of air so subtle that a lesser man would have missed it. A lesser man would now have a dagger embedded in a wool blanket and a sleeping boy’s hand wrapped around his throat.

(He dodged. He dodged while fast asleep. He didn’t just dodge… he presented his back to me. The ultimate insult. He’s telling me I am not a threat. He’s telling me I’m not even worthy of his attention.)

Alfred’s face was now visible in the dim light. It was scrunched up in concentration, as if he were trying to solve a complex puzzle in his dreams. His brow was deeply furrowed, his lips pulled back in a slight grimace of effort.

Kael stared at that sleeping face and felt true fear for the first time in years.

(That expression… that is not the face of a dreaming boy. That is the face of a demon king contemplating the annihilation of a kingdom. He is not asleep. He is in a deep battle trance, planning his next move, and the move after that.)

Alfred’s arm moved. It was a lazy, sluggish motion as he brought his hand up to his face and scratched the side of his nose.

Kael’s eyes widened, tracking the movement as if it were a striking viper.

(So fast! It looked like a simple scratch, but I felt the world shift. The very laws of physics seemed to bend around that hand. Was that a test? A feint to see if I would fall for such an obvious opening?)

He was sweating now. The handle of his dagger was slick in his palm. This wasn’t an assassination. It was an execution. His own. But a contract was a contract. Failure was not an option.

He decided to change tactics. Getting close was suicide. He needed a ranged attack. He reached into a pouch at his belt and produced a small, hollow tube and a tiny, needle-thin dart. The tip glistened with a fast-acting poison. Silent. Undetectable. Perfect.

He put the blowgun to his lips, taking a deep, quiet breath. He aimed for the exposed sliver of Alfred’s neck.

Alfred sneezed.

It was a massive, explosive, earth-shattering sneeze. A gale force wind erupted from the bed, blasting across the small room. The poison dart, which had been resting on Kael’s lips, was knocked from his mouth. It clattered uselessly onto the stone floor, lost in the shadows.

(A breath attack! He repelled the projectile with a focused blast of pure force! What is this man? Can he command the very air while he slumbers?)

Kael was done. His professionalism shattered. His nerve was gone. He stumbled backward, his boot catching the leg of Alfred’s desk chair. The chair scraped loudly against the floor before toppling over with a loud crash.

The lump on the bed stirred at the noise. Alfred let out a long, weary groan, the sound of a teenager being forced to wake up for school.

“Five more minutes, Mom…”

Kael didn’t hear the rest. The word ‘Mom’ was a thunderclap in his mind.

(Mom? Another code! Is ‘Mom’ the codename for the guild that sent me? Does he know about the Matron of Murders? He knows everything! He’s been toying with me this entire time!)

He didn’t wait for an answer. He scrambled for the window, his movements no longer silent or graceful. He was a terrified animal fleeing a predator. He dove headfirst out of the window, landing in a painful heap in the bushes below before sprinting off into the blessed darkness, his mind and career utterly broken.

Alfred shifted in his sleep, smacked his lips, and settled back into a deep, peaceful slumber, completely unaware that he was the star of the most terrifying night of one assassin’s life.