As the sun sank below the horizon, painting the world in shades of red and gold, Soma and Assashin began their silent journey. By the time they reached their destination, the night sky had already turned black, swallowing the last traces of daylight.

  The guild’s headquarters stood before them — dark, silent, almost too still. The kind of stillness that made the air feel heavy. Soma’s instincts screamed that it was the quiet before a storm.

  But fortune seemed to favor them. No alarms, no guards. In a swift, calculated blur, Soma eliminated the guild’s leader and his two deputies. The mission was flawless.

  Until everything went wrong.

  Without warning, masked intruders poured into the building like shadows with blades. They slaughtered the sleeping guild members in seconds, leaving Soma and Assashin face-to-face with a new, unknown enemy.

  Before they could process what was happening, one of the dark figures charged Soma from behind — a fatal mistake. She turned, blades flashing, and cut him down instantly. Then two more followed, aiming straight for her and Assashin.

  That’s when they realized — these people weren’t here for the guild. They were here for them.

  The room erupted in chaos. Blades clashed and sparks danced in the dark. Soma and Assashin fought side by side, fluid and precise, their movements sharp as lightning. Within moments, the masked enemies fell — lifeless on the cold stone floor.

  Assashin grinned, wiping the sweat from his brow.

  > “Sister Soma, it looks like our training finally paid off! See? We—”

  The words froze on his tongue.

  His eyes went wide. His knees buckled.

  A dull thunk echoed through the hall — a black-feathered arrow sticking out of his shoulder.

  > “Assashin!” Soma’s scream tore through the silence as she rushed to catch him.

  He staggered, his breaths shallow. The blood that oozed from the wound wasn’t normal — it shimmered faintly green under the moonlight. The veins around it turned dark, spreading fast.

  Stolen from Royal Road, this story should be reported if encountered on Amazon.

  > “No… this isn’t ordinary,” Soma whispered, pressing her hand against the wound, but the color beneath his skin deepened.

  Above them, she caught a glimpse of figures moving — archers hidden in the beams, their bows drawn again.

  > “Damn it!”

  She didn’t think. She lifted Assashin onto her back, her muscles straining under his weight, and dashed through the collapsing silence of the guild hall. Arrows followed like rain, slicing the air, one grazing her arm — but she didn’t stop. She couldn’t.

  By the time she burst through the door of their home, her breath was ragged, her arms trembling from the weight. She kicked open Theo’s door.

  > “Theo! He’s been hit — and I think it’s poisoned! It’s spreading too fast!”

  Theo blinked in shock for half a second — then his eyes sharpened, his hands already moving.

  > “Lay him down. Quickly.”

  He leaned over the wound, studying the color of the blood, the faint glow, the pulse of the veins. His voice was low but steady.

  > “I’ve read about this before… a traditional desert toxin. It’s made from the fangs of the Nerath serpent. It paralyzes the blood flow, spreading necrosis through the body. But if I’m right…”

  He rushed to his cabinet and began pulling out small jars and vials. Dried herbs, crushed powders, liquids of deep red and pale green.

  > “We’re lucky. The antidote can be made from blueroot extract and salted vine resin. I bought both from the market last week.”

  Soma watched in tense silence as Theo worked. His hands were sure and precise — too steady for someone his age. He mixed the ingredients in a small metal bowl, heating it gently over a candle flame until the liquid turned smoky purple.

  He drew a deep breath.

  > “Hold him still.”

  With practiced motion, he pressed around the wound to slow the spread, then used a small, curved blade to reopen it slightly — letting the poisoned blood ooze out. Assashin groaned weakly in pain.

  > “Almost there…” Theo murmured. He poured the glowing antidote over the wound, then packed it with crushed herbs that hissed on contact. Steam rose, carrying a sharp herbal scent.

  > “Now for the serum.”

  He filled a small syringe and injected it near the wound, the purple veins slowly receding, the discoloration fading bit by bit. Soma’s heart pounded as she watched color return to her brother’s face.

  Minutes passed. Then hours.

  When Theo finally emerged from the room, exhaustion darkened his eyes — but he smiled faintly.

  > “He’s safe now. The poison’s neutralized.”

  Soma’s body went weak with relief. She rushed inside, tears brimming, and dropped to her knees beside Assashin’s bed. His face was pale, but peaceful. She took his hand gently.

  > “Thank God you’re okay, you reckless idiot… you scared me half to death.”

  Theo peeked in and grinned, jumping onto the bed.

  > “Stop faking it already, Assashin! I know you’re awake!”

  > “Alright, alright! I’m sorry!” Assashin groaned, opening his eyes. “Theo told me how worried you were, so I thought maybe… if I stayed still long enough, I could avoid getting yelled at.”

  Soma blinked at him — then smiled softly and angrely.

  > “You don’t get to escape that easily. But… I’m just glad you’re okay.”