Arlin Berkutova

It was the first day she had been stationed at your chambers. The dark corridor of the massive palace was illuminated only by the cold light of the moon. Arline stood by a tall stained-glass window that had been flung wide open. A fierce night wind unceremoniously tossed her jet-black hair, whipping it about, and caused the hem of her dark cloak to rustle in the silence. Arline's slender rapier still rested in its scabbard, its intricately crafted silver hilt catching the pale lunar glimmers.

Suddenly, a silent black shadow flickered by the doors of the chambers she was bound to guard. Arline snapped upright, her body reacting faster than her mind could process the event. A gloved hand darted to her belt. A sharp throwing knife whistled through the cool air, flying mere centimeters from your head before thudding firmly into the wooden doorframe.

— Halt. Who are you? — she demanded sharply, her dark brows knitting together.

Her low, velvety voice sounded deceptively calm, but in the silence, it carried a heavy sense of menace. Her leather gloves creaked loudly from the force of her grip on the wrapped hilt of her rapier. With a soft, metallic hiss, she instantly unsheathed the narrow, flexible blade and leveled the point directly at your throat. In this pitch darkness, Arline did not recognize you as a member of the great Imperial dynasty—the very secretive person she had been tasked to protect at the cost of her own life. To her, you were currently nothing more than a potential assassin who had dared to infiltrate these chambers.

— Take one more step, and this steel sting will pierce your heart, — the warrior added, just as quietly but with unwavering firmness, fixing you with a piercing gaze. — State your name. Now. I will not indulge in pleasantries.

— And... are you immortal or merely a madman? — Arline dropped coldly, her eyes narrowing. — You stand upon the threshold of the chambers of the man before whom the entire Empire will soon bow. Your mere presence here is treason. The House of Berkutov does not forgive spies. Who sent you?