Chapter Nine

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Don't underestimate the challenge of the Gauntlet, Khalida. It's designed in such a way that it tests your balance, strength, and agility. The timing doesn't matter, only that you make it to the top. Coming in last is better than being dead. Trust me.
–Page Twenty-Two, The Book of Zarrin.

Violet is getting pampered by her 'childhood bestie' and here I am, training

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Violet is getting pampered by her 'childhood bestie' and here I am, training. General Melgren will have my head served on a silver platter if he finds out I lost a challenge on the mat. Even if it was against one of the strongest person in the Quadrant.

I'm just lucky enough not to be called by him to talk. My ears perk up as a knock sounds through the training area. Opening the door, I see a guard dressed in uniform. In the Generals colours.

'Fuck, I spoke too soon.'

"Aithne Melgren, you are summoned to your father's office immediately. Follow me." The young man–most likely a guard–has his shoulders back and stands straight. Few strands of auburn hair fall out of his hood.

But from his confident and stood up demeanor, I can make out the petrified boy inside. The guard takes a sharp turn and starts walking. I shake my head and walk behind him, not wasting a second.

We swerve the corners, walking through the hallways. Only once we exit the Quadrant, I realise that we are headed in an entirely different direction. My eyes narrow into slits and I palm my daggers.

I feel an incredible amount of pressure on my neck. I look down and I see an arm snaked around my throat, holding me in a chokehold. He tightens his hands on my neck, cutting off my air supply. My face starts to turn into a sickening colour as I see dark spots blurring my vision.

With the miniscule amount of energy in me, I grip the dagger till my knuckles whiten and thrust it into the guards abdomen. His hold loosens and I stagger forward, gulping in as much air as I possibly could. I heave breaths in, my vision returning.

Within a flash, I have the supposed sentry held with a dagger inches away  from his neck. My voice comes out croaky and hoarse. "Will you tell me the real reason why you decided to drag me out of training? Or will I have to slit your throat and ask your white ghost?"

His rage-filled eyes dart around the area and I instantly know that he's not the one responsible for this. The way his body moves, his stiffness—all point to there being someone else behind the scene.

I put a hand in my pocket, taking a nonchalant demeanor, still holding the guard at knife point. "Speak. I know that it was not my father who had this ordered." He yells, baring his teeth, "I don't know who it was!"

I tilt my head, bringing it so that I can look right into his eyes. "I won't even try and pretend that I believe that. I don't think you would take commands from an unknown person. Would you?"

I smirk. "Now, be a good little boy and tell me who sent you and why they did."

The sentinel stutters, "H-he only told u-us that you'd s-seen a w-white dragon! I swear! Please let me go!" My eyes widen for a fraction of a second before returning to an intimidating facade. "And who is this you speak about?"

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