Chapter 12: Tekira (Part 1).

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  Kalista, Month: 94, Year: 226.

  The bandages unraveled in slow spirals, sticky with dried sweat and blood. Beneath the linen, her arm emerged mottled with bruises, welts coiled around the wound in dark rings. The cut had begun to heal, yet the pain throbbed with the memory of steel still buried in her flesh.

  Tekira’s eyes clung to the nurse’s hands, every tug reminding her of that night: the night of the attempt. Confusion and chaos had swallowed the palace. The assassins’ magic turned sound into deception, every voice scattering in false directions. But Tekira hadn’t trusted her ears. She had trusted her gut. And somehow, whether by luck or destiny, she reached the scene before anyone else.

  The memory clung to her mind the same way the pain clung to her wounded arm: Princess Uquoia, heir of Queen Kalista, crouched behind an overturned drawer, silk torn and breath ragged, while her shadows struggled to fend off every blow. The jewels she once proudly wore had scattered across the floor, just like the assassins’ knives and arrows, all of them rolling uselessly across the marble. For an instant, Tekira believed she had stepped into a nightmare.

  Steel caught the light: a dagger thrown with magic, spinning straight from the princess’s blind spot. Tekira didn’t think. She threw herself into its path, the steel tore through her armor and into her arm, pain exploding hot as fire when the blade sank into her flesh.

  Steel had scarred her before, but it had never been this painful. The poison scorched her veins like molten metal racing through her blood. Her vision blurred, her body stiffened, every step and swing of her blade clumsy. Yet stubbornness kept her upright. She fought for moments she barely remembered, and even in the fog of near-unconsciousness, she recalled capturing one assassin alive.

  Tekira awoke days later to learn from the nurses that only her immense frame and stubborn heart had kept the venom from claiming her life. Yet even now, her body betrayed her; not only her wounded left arm, but also her feet and right arm, though to a lesser degree, heavy and clumsy, as if bound by invisible chains.

  The city hailed her as a hero. Though she could barely stand, she was carried into a ceremony, a medal fastened to her chest while praises poured from courtly mouths. Tekira had saved the heir’s life. She ought to have felt pride, and part of her did. Yet the glory rang hollow, for she felt as if the battle was far from over.

  The official tale named Lord Creese, a Haksari noble from the north-eastern port city Ca?rovof, as the mastermind. His motive: after more than a year of passive-agressiveness between the cities, he sought vengeance for his foolish son, beaten bloody by a Drakvari warrior after provoking her during a drunken spree.

  But the story did not hold. How could a foreign lord who had never set foot in Kalista, who likely did not even speak their language, engineer such a plot? The assassins had known too much: guard schedules, hidden corridors, even the details of Kalista’s sewers. If Princess Uquoia had drunk the tea, they would have slipped in and out without anyone noticing they were ever there. It was only by coincidence that they found out about the betrayal from Wenari, the princess's assistant. But even if she helped the aggressors, it still shouldn't have been enough. Someone else had to be involved.

  The incident was even more suspicious, as none of the assassins had survived the attack for interrogation. Even the one she had captured alive met her demise in custody, strangled by the golden necklace she wore as had the rest of them. The officers blamed Haksari magic, something their assassins would do to protect their valuable secrets. Believable? Yes. But it still seemed too convenient for whoever hired them.

  Knock. Knock. Knock.

  The sound cut cleanly through Tekira’s thoughts. “Come in,” the nurse said, still looking toward the bandages. She might have chosen a different voice if she’d seen who waited outside. The door swung and a winged figure slipped through, negotiating the room with endearing clumsiness, wingtips brushing shelves, a tail dragging through the polished floor.

  Clack.

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  A metal reservoir hit the floor with a sharp ring, soap splashing across the entrance. The nurse spun at last, breath drawn for a scolding, only to freeze. Her eyes widened, and the reprimand died on her tongue, replaced by a hurried bow.

  “Your Highness! Forgive me, I had no idea you’d grace the clinic with a visit.”

  Princess Ashani’s cheeks colored as she fumbled for words. “No, no, I’m the one who’s sorry.” She surveyed the soapy disaster with a sheepish wince. “Look at the mess I made.”

  She lifted her hand and the fallen reservoir rose as if caught by an invisible current, gliding to set itself upon a nearby table.

  “You don’t need to do that, Princess,” the nurse said quickly. “I’ll handle the cleanup.”

  “Thank you,” the princess murmured, her smile still tinged with embarrassment. “I can’t seem to fit anywhere without knocking something over,” she motioned apologetically to her wings and tail, both shifting awkwardly behind her.

  Tekira bent in a respectful bow. “It is a great honor to have you here, Princess Ashani.”

  Ashani moved nearer, tilting her head back to meet Tekira’s eyes. Her voice softened. “I wished to thank you once more.” She paused. “Truly… thank you. If you hadn’t been there, Princess Uquoia might not be among us any more.”

  Ashani’s voice faltered. “I was terrified she wouldn’t survive… I still don’t know what I would have done if we had lost her that night.” She offered a slow, careful bow, wings tucked tight so as not to disturb a single jar or shelf.

  Tekira lowered her head in return. “Your words honor me, Your Highness. Truly.”

  Ashani turned to the nurse, touching her shoulder in warm appreciation. “And thank you, dearly, for caring for our brave protectors and the workers who keep this city alive.”

  The nurse’s face lit up, and Ashani returned the smile before turning back to Tekira’s freshly wrapped arm.

  “You’ve done admirable work,” she told the nurse. “Captain, take all the time you need. I’ll be waiting just outside for our hero when she’s ready.”

  “Actually, I’ve just finished, Your Highness,” the nurse said as she secured the final wrap. “Please return next week for a follow-up.”

  She stepped down from the small platform she’d been using to reach Tekira’s arm.

  Tekira inclined her head. “Thank you.”

  Princess Ashani offered the nurse a heartfelt smile and clasped her hand in gratitude before leaving the room.

  Tekira and the princess navigated the narrow corridors with careful, awkward steps, Tekira's shoulders and Ashani's wings brushing cabinets and curtain frames as they made their way toward the exit. What should have been a short walk felt endless; every few paces, someone halted to bow to the princess, offering greetings and admiration. Ashani returned each with a polite smile and a gentle wave, slowing their progress further.

  By the time they finally emerged into the wider entry chamber, the air felt less stifling. Beyond it lay the mushroom garden, a calming haven just outside the medical ward, where patients often came to rest among clusters of radiant, colorful and bioluminescent mushrooms.

  Ashani exhaled with visible relief, her wings stretching and tail lifting freely for the first time. “Finally… some space.” She turned to Tekira and offered her a steadying hand as the warrior limped down the steps.

  Together, they crossed to a sturdy sitting table between the glowing mushroom caps.

  Ashani opened a small box crafted from hardened mycelium, its interior lined with colorful fruits and delicately sliced mushrooms. “These fruits came all the way from Solmaris,” she whispered, as if sharing contraband treasure. “They’re nearly impossible to find in Kalista.”

  She picked a plump fruit and offered the box to Tekira with an eager smile. “Please, Captain, try one. I’m sure you’ll love it.”

  Tekira took a piece with her good arm and bit into it. A burst of sour and sweet flooded her tongue, sharp at first, then rich and fragrant. Her face twisted at the tang, which made Ashani laugh, bright and musical.

  “Different from anything here, right?” she teased.

  “I haven’t had one since my merchant missions.” Tekira responded, her tone soft as if recalling a warm memory.

  “Ooh, merchant missions? I can only imagine the adventures you must’ve had, Captain.” Ashani scooted a little closer, eyes bright with interest, clearly hoping Tekira would continue.

  “You want to hear about our trade missions?” Tekira asked with a small smile.

  “Why not?” Ashani replied eagerly. “Traveling warriors like yourself always return with the best stories.”

  A stiff cough announced the interruption. A palace worker approached, her posture straight as a spear, uniform pressed to perfection, expression stiff as her hair.

  “The War Council awaits, Your Highness,” she declared, voice clipped and formal, with no room for delay.

  Ashani exhaled, as if a small surrender. “Fine. I'll get to the point.” She stood, wings unfolding slightly, she smiled slightly, as if she was holding back excitement before delivering the news, she set a gentle hand on Tekira’s shoulder. “I didn’t only come to thank you.” Her eyes held Tekira’s. “There’s a vacancy for Commander at the eastern camp. I've already recommended you for the position. Please take it. Knowing you are there would let me breathe easier, and the post deserves an officer with your courage and skill.”

  Tekira rose to her full height, almost unable to contain the excitement but exercising restraint to conserve the formality that was expected of an officer. She lowered herself in a deep, respectful bow until her gaze met the princess’s at the same level.

  “To be chosen by you, Your Highness, is an honor I will never forget.” She said, holding back a scream and a skip.

  Ashani rose on her toes, wings trembling with emotion. Before Tekira could react, the princess wrapped her in a fierce embrace. Her arms could not span Tekira’s shoulders, yet her wings swept forward, encircling her all the way to her back. Then Ashani stepped back, “Sorry, I was just excited. I hope I didn't hurt you.” her eyes shining with something between gratitude and an apology.

  “No, Your Highness,” Tekira said warmly. “I feel yet again, honored for your kind gestures.”

  “Thank you again for your service to Kalista.” Ashani's gaze fell to the bandaged arm, and a hint of worry touched her features. “I’ve heard you’ve been working tirelessly despite your injuries. Please, take a few days to rest. We’ll need you at your best for your new role.”

  Ashani’s tone brightened as she tapped Tekira’s good arm, a gesture light enough to almost seem sisterly. “Congratulations, Commander. We’ll finish our talk another time.”

  She turned to leave, wings stretching wide for a moment before folding neatly against her back as she walked away with her guards and the palace aide in tow.

  Tekira watched them go, the glow of the mushrooms painting her armor in shifting colors. The word Commander echoed in her chest like a drumbeat. It had been a long-standing goal of hers, and now that it was within reach, she could hardly resist shouting it to the world. But pride gave way to discipline. She would wait until it was official. For now, she would do as the princess advised: rest, gather her strength, and be ready for what came next.

  Tekira limped down the familiar road, her pace uneven but her spirit light. For the first time since the attempt, the weight on her shoulders seemed to lift. She caught herself smiling, imagining the kind of commander she would like to become: one her subordinates could trust, one who would inspire them to be better.

  Then her boot struck loose stone.

  The world tilted, and she fell hard to one knee. Pain stabbed up her wounded arm, wiping the smile clean from her face.

  For a heartbeat, she simply knelt there, breathing through the sting. But something else, besides her kneecap had found the floor, it was something princess Sulaye had entrusted her. The captain’s hand drifted towards the small toy resting on the ground, almost by instinct. Her fingers felt the small wooden boat, its smooth surface familiar, yet mysterious. She once again studied its fragile hull under the mushroom light.

  The small wooden boat met her gaze like a reminder from princess Sulaye of the job she still had here in Kalista, of the responsibility she still held towards her sisters who fell in battle that night. If Princess Sulaye hadn’t found this tiny toy, and if Tekira hadn’t noticed it by chance, everyone would still be blind to Wenari’s betrayal. Without this boat, she might have even swallowed the neat little story blaming it all on Lord Creese. Yet, now that faith had put this clue on her path; was it not following the lead, the best she could do in honor of those who didn’t make it out of the attack?

  Her mind spiraled on the thoughts of what it would mean if she left Kalista to fit her new role. Her mind returned to the inconsistencies she had thought of earlier. If Lord Creese wanted Princess Uquoia dead by poison, and had already gained Wenari’s help, -Princess Uquoia's personal assistant.- Why hire Haksari assassins? Why add extra steps to the plan? Why bring outsiders into something that the assistant could have done quietly? And how had Wenari and Lord Creese ever even made contact in the first place?

  Possible answers came to her, but each one felt forced, illogical, or unnecessarily complicated.

  Still kneeling on the street, Tekira understood the truth: even if she dragged herself home and collapsed into bed, sleep would not claim her. Her mind would gnaw at every unanswered question like a restless beast. She knew herself too well, even when she was in her new post; her mind would cycle back to this case. She had one last case to solve, then she could leave in peace.

  Qilani's Campaign.

  Chapter 12: Tekira (Part 2).

  Thank you very much for taking the time to read my story.