Predetermined

Prologue

She slipped through the darkness, blending in with the shadows as she moved. To accomplish her mission, she must act swiftly and not be seen. If she were caught and her mission failed, her punishment could be a public execution. But she did not fear it because she did not expect to live tomorrow.

The hallways were dimly lit, expecting no one to walk its length tonight. Light filtered through the narrow slits under the doors she passed. The occasional window illuminated the path.

The corridors on this side of the castle were left bare, the rough stone cold under her palms. Visitors were not allowed to enter this part of the structure, meant as living quarters for exceptional guards who earned a place at the castle or high-status servants who tended directly to the royal family.

She was one of the few guards granted this luxury. It may as well have been a curse for her, being separated from her young daughters, only to see them once every three months.

The front section and left wing of the castle were adorned with smooth, polished stone and glass walls, built with beautiful designs for public enjoyment.

How ironic, she thought, that the castle would flaunt it wealth when its civilians were so poor.

Since guards lived here, no one was stationed in this part of the castle. The only exception was the area nestled at the very end of the right wing, where the king chose to sleep. She never understood why the king chose to live amongst his servants. Considering his love for luxury and wealth, she thought he would indulge himself in the lavish rooms on the left wing, where he placed his young heir's living quarters.

She did not question it greatly, simply welcomed the fact that it made her mission easier. It would have been much more difficult to infiltrate the constantly guarded left wing. She cleared her mind and shifted her focus back to her goal: to rid this country of an avaricious ruler. She ran through her plan mentally.

In a quarter of an hour, guards would be rotating for the end of their shifts. She had prepared for months and knew that most of the guards on duty at this time did not wait for their replacements before leaving. Only the two loyal sentries situated directly in front of the king's room waited as they should. She would disarm them, render them unconscious, and enter the king's bedroom with the lockpicking technique she had learned from a friend on her visit home two months ago.

She turned the corner, avoiding the spots illuminated by the hallway lights. She only advanced three steps before she was interrupted.

"Soranie?" A deep, familiar voice came from behind her. She paused in her steps, turned around and bowed, right hand fisted to her left chest, "Captain."

"Put the formalities aside," he responded, "What are you doing here? You are posted on the outer wall until sunrise tonight."

As expected of her superior, he knew where she should be at this time. She rose her head and met the brown eyes staring at her, a friendly gleam in them for the years shared together rising the ranks. The man before her had recently received the title of captain and a responsibility of overseeing a handful of guards in the castle.

"Personal, feminine matters. I required something from my room. My comrade Hilren is on watch until I return."

"Your room is on the hallway opposite this, Soranie. You passed it two turns ago," he stated only facts, never accusations. He left questions unasked, giving her an opportunity to explain herself.

She had not expected to encounter him tonight since he was not scheduled to be on duty, but that was her mistake. He always went above his required duties, especially now that he was instated in this new role.

It crossed her mind to tell him the truth. He was perceptive and would see through her covers.

"I want to protect my children," she began, aware of the minutes ticking by, her opportunity slipping away if she could not convince her friend. She knew the captain was loyal to his job, but she spoke to his sense of justice and love for his family and village.

"A prophecy passed along in my village declared that a pair of twins born will revolutionize our land and the existing injustice."

"One will represent the country as it is: broken and divided. The other will represent the hope of the future: equality," the captain recited back to her. She never expected him to have heard of this, much less remembered the exact words. He had always emitted a distrust towards beliefs unsupported by facts.

"My daughters. I'm told by several that they are the twins in the prophecy. They will go through so many hardships. As a mother, I cannot bear to just stand by and give them that burden."

"And you believe that slaying the king now will fix everything," the captain deduced, insult in his voice at the absurdity of the idea.

"Would you leave your wife to starve if you had the ability to put food on the table for her?" she argued, using his personal example against him to make him see her perspective.

He looked at her, skepticism written on his face, lines visible on skin aged with stress. She stood with him as her body ached to move; the end of the guards' shifts neared. She had never bested him in combat, so she could not escape him now. He could also simply notify all the guards in the vicinity of her treason. He was lenient, for the years of friendship between them. Grateful, she could only play along with him.

"Wouldn't your failure endanger your daughters? Your entire family would be punished for your wrongdoings. Even if you were to succeed, they would become targets – the perfect hostages against you."

"You cannot find those who you do not know," she said confidently. Without sparing more precious moments for him to contemplate, she continued, "I won't live to see tomorrow, Captain, no matter the outcome. Let me at least try to help my daughters. Let me go – you have seen and done nothing. Neither you nor your family will be compromised."

"You're only half right, Soranie," he corrected her, "Liam and Renee were dismissed earlier. I am on patrol now. But I have not seen you tonight. I will see you tomorrow morning."

Without waiting for a response, he turned his back towards her, and his choice of uniform burned into her memory. Instead of the navy-blue jacket reserved for the higher ranks, he chose to continue wearing his grey lower-ranked guard uniform, a single horizontal stripe of blue sewn onto his right sleeve to indicate his rank as a captain.

He was for the people, always.

"Thank you," she whispered as he turned the corner. She knew he was still skeptical of the prophecy; he has never believed in them. He did this for her as a friend.

She quietly ran the remainder of the distance and bends to the king's room, keeping to the side of the hallways, ducking by windows and avoiding lights. She reached the king's bedroom without encountering anyone else. As her captain implied, no one stood guard in front of the room, its door ordinary with no indication that this was the king's space.

She quickly picked the lock before the next guards would arrive and slid into the darkness of the chamber.

Neither she nor the captain knew that the king was not in his chambers tonight. Someone she did not expect was waiting for her there. And just like she predicted, she would not live to see the dawn.