The hazy smell of cigarettes would always take her back to the waking nightmare that was her childhood. Perhaps it couldn't even been called a childhood, after the hell she had been forced to live. In one night, her parents had died, and then shortly her grandmother had disappeared and all of the sudden, she had no one. She forced herself to forget them after her first few months in the Grounds.
Social services never showed up. Instead two people introduced themselves to her as the Caretakers. They told her that since she had no one, they would take care of her and the rest of children like her. In effect, she had been sold to the government, and trained to be a child soldier. But they never found anyone else like her, she was the best that the Grounds had ever produced.
Produced was the best word, for they were products. Cleansed of their humanity, they were treated as playthings until they were ready to kill for the glory of their country. Cybelline still remembered the "games" that the Caretakers played when they were bored. If the children hadn't completed their mission of the day to the whim of the Caretaker, they would hold their victim down and burn cigarette into their skin. The smell of flesh burning mixed with the acrid smoke wasn't something one could forget. The pitted scars weren't easy to ignore either.
Only she knew how broken she had been. Her physical scars had been left in that old, cruel world. But her invisible ones had followed.
She would never forget the eyes of the children that died, eyes that held anguish, helplessness, and pain. There were heartless assassins who killed for the joy of killing, those who killed for money... and then there was Cybelline, who killed because she had been taught nothing else. But she remembered those children.
And in this new world, when she saw the pixies who looked like small children, she was suddenly back in hell, where she watched little children ran screaming in terror, their training forgotten as a pack of hyenas chased after them. Above it all, the Caretakers laughed and shot the stragglers in the legs to make it more fun.
When the General who had first started the program came to visit, his eyes would glitter whenever he saw her. One day she would close those eyes forever, but not before she had known what hatred tasted like. Those sick, depraved people who had used her and all the children to do their bidding would all die by her hand. She stood coolly as they begged for mercy, screamed in vengeance and cursed her name. She killed them all slowly and viciously, she made them suffer until death was a welcomed release.
When she grew older, she toppled the government who had created the program and dropped its leaders into a pit of vipers in the jungle. They took weeks to die of poison, starvation, and terror.
Those screams affirmed to her that she was monster that monsters feared.
Eventually, she would forever close that chapter on her life, mentally stitch together the gaping wound on her mind and force herself to become the deadliest assassin in the game of spies.
Back in the present, she stood quietly in the midst of chaos, a eye-catching figure in midst of the thudding of horses, the flying arrows, and the air full of the scream of innocents. No one could ignore her. No one dared.She stared at the screaming crowd coldly, her eyes seemed to reach into the depths of their souls and freeze them to the very core. These eyes held the imprint of death, promising that everything that touched her would be destroyed utterly and instantly. These were the eyes of vengeance, it promised to rip them apart, limb by limb.
These were not her captors, she told herself. She force herself to leave the nightmare in her mind and come back to reality.
But she commanded their attention, their obedience, their all.
An arrow flew at her face. Killian stood up and was about to leap down when, to the astonishment of the entire crowd and competitors, she reached out her hand, slowly, almost lazily, flicked it.
Ding.
It was soft sound but the whole arrow shattered. A gasp went up in the crowd as the shattered arrow dropped to the ground. Killian noticed that the girl had not shattered just the wood, but the iron tip as well.
Cybelline looked at the strange woman who had fired an arrow, "You missed."
"I'm happy to try again." The lady spoke coldly. She turned to the Queen, "My queen, I want this intruder dead."
Queen Estelle was fascinated by Cybelline. This beauty, with her flame red hair and beautiful green eyes looked like Cyrus. Was this another sister?
Estelle brightened and ignored the lady who made the complaint, and wanting to please the new favorite, smiled, instead of calling her guards over. "Are you another of Lord Cyrus's sisters? Would you like to take part?" She looked around, frowning, "But where is your charming brother?
Cybelline blinked and paused and with a charming smile, nodded. "Yes, I am." She continued "My brother found this competition to be a bit boring. And those seats can be hard on behinds."
Killian stared at the woman as if nothing else in the world mattered. He wanted to fly to her, to touch her and see if she was real. The distance of thousands of people was nothing to him, not compared to the distance of time and worlds.
He stood up. Lord Evan quickly came over, "My Lord?" He felt something was wrong, "My lord, the preparations. Did you find something wrong?"
Killian took a deep breathe. This was not the right time, the enemy was still here. He needed to make sure everything was safe before he stood in front of her. He shook his head, "No. Keep going."
"Oh?" Estelle smiled, "What do you propose?"
Cybelline looked up at the women in the ring, "One match, one arrow each. Let's decide the winner now."
Estelle cocked her head, "Do you mean that whoever shoots the most pixies wins?"
Cybelline shook her head, "What's the fun of shooting things that can't fight back? How about we shoot each other. Whoever falls to the ground loses."
Estelle looked at the young woman with a frown. But before she could say anything, the lady who had shot at Cybelline rode forward, and snarled angrily "How dare you compare yourself with us?"
She looked down at Cybelline, "We are Lady Mages. I could turn you into dust with a snap of my fingers."
Estelle glanced sharply at the lady, "Anera." She warned. But the lady spoke with disgust and disdain, "Dirty commoners like you without magic should not speak in our presence."
Some of the mages in the audience nodded while the majority of people could only sitting in helpless acknowledgement. This was the way of the world, those with magic always acted however they wanted. Mages could kill, maim, and destroy. Nine times out of ten, their actions forgiven.
Three other women rode up and stood by Lady Anera. Their eyes glittered with malice. One of the spoke, "My Queen, this girl clearly has no magic. Why are we wasting time on her? Let the guards break her bones and throw her out of the city." The other two looked at Cybelline as if she was trash.
Cybelline only smiled, she never wasted her words on those who did not deserve her time. Her actions would much more effective.
Estelle smiled gently, "Lady Anera, you overstep your bounds. Retreat or I'll cut you in two." Anera blanched and rode back with her group of women, but she dared not go any further. This could ruin everything, she thought.
"That commoner is so presumptuous." Another competitor whispered to her friend on her right. Her friend turned to her, "Kelani, hush. This is a better opportunity for us than for her majesty."
Kelani frowned, "What do you mean, Ravia?"
Ravia watched the confrontation and muttered, "Estelle's magic is wind, it's what makes her arrows so fast. If we were to go against her, this evens the playing field, rather than chase those dratted pixies. At least our powers are useful here." Kelani looked thoughtful
In the center of the field, Estelle looked down at the girl, "You're asking me to change a tradition that has gone back hundreds of years because of boredom?"
"If you win, Queen. Then I promise you one night with my brother." Cybelline said with wink.
"Done." The Queen raised her voice, "Bring out the practice arrows!"
Arrows were promptly brought out with soft tips that would make impact extremely painful, but not deadly. Cybelline smiled crookedly, it was alright to harm and kill magical creatures but gods forbid that the nobles were hurt.
"My Lords and Ladies. Tonight the next Queen of the Spies will not be decided by our traditional game, but by a new, more exciting one. The last person on their horse will be Queen!" The crowd looked at each other in confusion, shrugged, and started screaming in excitement again.
Cybelline smiled but then scratched her head. Where was she going to find a horse?
She walked back towards the stables where the horses were kept and was about to ask for a spare when a man appeared.
He was a head and a half taller than her. Elegant yet distinctive features that marked him as one the gods chose to favor with all the gifts appeared before her.
She looked up in confusion.
Green eyes met green eyes, they stood, staring at each other. He was closer to her than ever before, their breathes mingling in the cool air. How had he approached her without her noticing him? And once again, when staring into his eyes, why did it feel so familiar? She raised her hands to push him away when he spoke.
"Take this, it will help." He said quietly, the authority unmistakable in his voice.
A pair of reigns appeared and dropped into Cybelline's hands. She did not notice the powerful steed that it was leading. She didn't know that it was the most prized horse of all the realms, having been the battle companion of the man who had given it to her. She didn't know that kings would trade cities just to have a horse half as good.
To give away a horse like this was like giving away one's life.
He vanished as quietly as he had appeared. In a blink of an eye he was gone.
In those last moments he had leaned down and whispered, "I'll wait for you."
Cybelline rubbed her ear, which had suddenly gone a little pink and ticklish. With a shrug, she put the odd feeling away and went into battle with the War Lord's most prized horse.