Chapter 2:

Infiltration

WARNING: This chapter contains graphic violence, gore, and death.

The rest of the infiltration team had already taken out their guard posts as directed, including Silas and Jacob. Jacob had quickly killed all three men before Silas could enter the post, as if he was attempting to protect his distressed partner from the bloodshed. Silas was still sick to his stomach and had grown paler and paler by the minute. Jacob was concerned about him, but not as concerned as he was with killing all the guards in the palace.

Jacob nonetheless kept an eye on Silas to make sure his partner did not faint.

Jacob and Silas silently advanced into the barracks, where a short hallway separated the rest of the sleeping guards and the elven assassins. The elves in Jacob’s village specialized in potion making. They were proficient at making poisons from the toxic plants deep in the woods. Due to their hidden location, the poisons had no known cure and were potent to humans.

“Silas, throw this bottle into the room and run. Do you have your face mask?” The soldiers were equipped to handle almost any occasion, including poison attacks, though humans rarely resorted to using poisons. They often relied on their brute strength to subdue their smaller enemies.

Silas nodded weakly, swallowing down the large lump in his throat. “They’re asleep, I bet we can sneak around them, Jacob.” He said this weakly.

“We can’t do that! Remember Henry’s orders? We have to kill all the royal scum, and that includes their servants!” He poked Silas’ chest with his finger, quietly angering Silas. “Are you on our side or on theirs?” Those words were a heavy blow.

Silas couldn’t argue again. He didn’t want to appear to be unwilling to help his people, and he especially did not want to be seen as weak.

He took the mask out of his satchel and placed it onto his face. He adjusted the mask around his nose and then retrieved the bottle from Jacob. It was made out of thin glass, made to be quickly tossed and broken. This particular poison was dyed dark purple, and the liquid inside was very fluid, like water. It would release a deadly gas once opened, causing a drawn-out, excruciatingly painful death.

Silas knew he would have to kill this time. His hand stopped shaking once he tightly clenched the bottle. He was relieved to know he would not have to face the men he would kill directly. If he had to, he was not sure if he would have been able to kill them. He knew it, but the relief was short lived.

After quickly glancing into the quiet room of about fifty men, Silas pulled his arm back and aimed for the middle of the room. Then he quickly tossed the bottle inside, making sure that the bottle had landed where he had tossed. It did.

The men sleeping were startled awake by the sound of glass breaking, but they were soon choked by the dark gas. Silas ran with Jacob down the stairwell and into the main castle corridor, purposely avoiding the screams of agony from above them.

Silas clenched his eyes and tried to drown out the screams, so he would not scream too.

Once they had opened the door to the corridor, they were greeted by a bloody scene. Corpses littered the halls like garbage, many of them mutilated beyond recognition. Blood was smeared and splattered on every surface, and the scene of death sank heavily in the air. Silas and hardened Jacob were relieved to have been wearing their masks.

The two walked quietly side by side, holding onto their swords tightly, as if preparing for one of the corpses to rise and attempt to attack them. Fortunately, the bodies were dead before the two had entered the room.

“Silas, there’s two halls here. You take left, I’ll take right.” Jacob had removed his mask and had begun running to the right before Silas could argue. It was as if the sight of fresh blood had uncovered the lock on Jacob’s dark mind, leaving Silas to fend for himself.

Remember what you were taught in training… Silas had no practical experience. He could only rely on what he had been taught, he thought to himself as he removed his mask.

Silas walked slowly and cautiously. It felt that this caution was almost unnecessary, seeing as all the servants here had already been mercilessly sliced down. By the looks of the cuts, it had to have been Henry’s partner, Arnold.

As he walked closer and closer to the south side of the castle, Silas could hear screaming in the distance. The shrill sound evoked terror in whoever heard it, including Silas. He nervously stopped, hearing the sounds of screaming get closer and closer to him. Silas looked around in a panic, trying to find somewhere to hide, so he did not have to confront whatever was coming right towards him.

Silas looked to his right and saw a beautiful wood door, lined with golden vines to decorate the door frame. He paused for a moment before ripping the door open and quietly closing the door behind him..

This would be a decision Silas would come to greatly regret.

When he entered the room, a warm, gentle breeze greeted him. The warmth warmed Silas’s colorless cheeks, and made him feel a bit safer as he quietly entered. Silas, no longer distracted by the ceaseless screaming, began to explore the room. It was obviously a child’s room, decorated with light blue tapestry and pictures of the starry sky.

Looking at the room made his chest hurt. There are children here too, Silas thought heavily.

Silas soon felt a wave of guilt wash over him and the desire to leave and just run away became stronger and stronger. Henry’s words of leaving no one alive still echoed in his mind, yet he couldn’t bring himself to follow them. He could not and would not kill a child.

That was when Silas noticed a tall wardrobe pushed against a wall with a small door frame peeking out on the other side of the room. It looked as if it were a hidden room, and knowing a child’s strength, there was no way a child could have moved it there. As his curiosity was piqued, he grabbed onto the side of the wardrobe and began to push it aside. It was surprisingly light, and in a moment it was already moved to the side. Just as Silas was about to touch the doorknob, the door to the room was pushed open, and a person stood in the frame, hidden by the dark.

“Who’s there!? Who stands in His Majesty’s room?!” The voice was loud and clear. It made Silas freeze in his place.

As the person stepped forward, it was a palace knight. The man had already fought a battle previously, because he was bleeding heavily from a cut above his left eye. There were two dark, deep bruises on his face, and the man’s breathing was labored. Silas was unsure how his voice was so clear with his fatigued condition.

Silas couldn’t bring himself to say anything back to the man, instead Silas froze.

“I asked who you are? Stay where you are!” Now the man’s voice was labored, and he used the door as leverage to keep himself standing.

“I won’t hurt you.” Silas said calmly, putting his hand up.

The man seemed to have taken offence to his words. “Hurt me? I’m a loyal soldier to the royal palace! I will die before I take pity on an intruder!”

The man suddenly charged at Silas, putting his sword up to stab the young man.

Silas jumped aside and put his sword up to block the man’s swing. The swords connected with a loud grinding sound, and the other man was slightly pushed back, already unsteady from fatigue.

Using this to his advantage, Silas pushed the man with his sword, which threw the man back, almost knocking the man to the ground. He growled in response to this, kicking his leg towards Silas.

Barely dodging the sudden attack, Silas attacked and cut the man’s leg with his sword. He hadn’t realized the sword would cut through the man as it did. The knight fell, gasping in pain as he profusely bled. Silas’s legs felt weak.

“What are you waiting for? Kill me!” The older man yelled, wiping the blood out of his eyes. The man’s current state was almost pitiful. “You know I can’t survive this, so finish your job like a man!”

Silas’ sword almost felt too heavy to move. The man looked at him with narrowed eyes, eyes full of judgement. “I see how it is... “ The man wheezed, “The man I fought before you was much stronger, but I was able to kill him. He wasn’t a coward like you. He fought until the end.”

One of us is already dead. Silas reeled at the revelation. He knew there was a strong possibility this would happen, and yet, for it to actually happen...

“Looking at you, you must have never killed anyone. Your technique is good, but you have no experience.” The man said mockingly, taunting Silas with his smile. “If only I ran into you first.”

Silas couldn’t control himself, “Shut up!” He yelled, catching himself. Silas never acted on his anger but just now he felt a strong force, pushing him to kill this prideful man.

Oh, how sweet it would be… killing such a skilled knight by my hands, the hands of a “newbie”… The thought was sick and twisted, Silas knew, but by God it was tempting. He had to control himself.

That was when a sharp object came flying at Silas. He narrowly dodged, almost losing a piece of hair from the sharp tip of the object. Silas looked at the wall behind him and his eyes widened. It was the man’s sword.

“See, I can still kill you, even as weak as I am.” Silas felt the vomit coming back up in his throat. Before he knew it, his hands were on the man’s neck, strangling him with his gloved hands. The man weakly resisted, using the last of his energy to swing a hidden dagger at Silas. It missed and clanged on the floor as it hit the ground. The man fought weakly for only a moment before he ceased to struggle.

Silas didn’t remove his hands until a moment later, once the man had gone completely limp. Silas looked at his hands, his blood-covered hands, and immediately fell to his knees. He leaned forward, his hands out front, keeping him from falling onto the ground.

A moment later, he heard shallow footsteps from around the door, and Silas jumped up. He then took a deep breath and raised his sword again, this time prepared to attack. The footsteps came closer and closer, his muscles tensed more and more, until he saw a young woman’s head peek through the door.

“O-oh my god… Fredrick!” The woman, seemingly not noticing Silas, ran past him and to the man lying dead on the ground, still warm. “Fredrick!” Her voice became strained as she grabbed his bloodied shirt and cried, sobbing loudly.

Silas was unsure what to do. He stood, still holding his sword up high as the woman noticed the door in plain sight. She gasped and stood up, checking that the door was still locked. With trembling hands, she turned around to see Silas standing and watching her, ready to attack.

The woman screamed and jumped behind a piece of furniture, her legs too shaky to run any farther. Her fragile frame was trembling violently. She would not be able to defend herself in the least.

Silas wiped the back of his mouth with his hand, putting his sword down. “I… I don’t want to hurt you.” He said this unsteadily. “I don’t want to do this…”

Even at seventeen, he was still a child.

The young woman stared at him, holding onto the end table for support. “Why… why did you have to kill Fredrick…? Why?” She accused, sobbing again.

Silas had no good answer to this. “I had to defend myself, he was going to-”

The woman fell down, losing what little feeling was left in her legs. Silas saw this and went to reach out to her, but she cowered away from him, glaring back at him.

He felt so small, so insignificant, so disgusting. He was disgusted with the person he had become. What would the real Silas do? Not the elven soldier Silas… the real one… He thought to himself, biting his lower lip.

He could say it without thinking. He would attempt to save this woman, even if that meant sacrificing his own well being.

The sound of footsteps flooded the hall, and the woman froze, too afraid to move. “Please, please don’t hurt him… please, not Clarence.” She begged, pleading to Silas.

Silas nodded his head, unsure of who Clarence was. Quickly, he pushed the woman under the bed, and quietly told her to hide herself. He would save her life, at least.

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