Chapter 5: Revien

Hayeon stared out the window in awe as the plane descended toward the mountaintop. The sprawling estate that served as my home came into view, surrounded by snow-covered peaks.

"You live here?" she gasped, turning to me with wide eyes.

"Yes," I replied simply.

The door opened, and we stepped out into the biting cold. I was used to the chill, but Hayeon shivered as we made our way toward the main building.

"Why is it so freaking cold?" she huffed through gritted teeth.

"We're in Appalachia. It's always cold," I said with a smirk, unable to resist teasing her.

Inside, the warmth of flickering torches greeted us, casting a soft glow along the dark stone hallway.

"Azail, you should inform Mikha'il Ra Gual about the mission," Shavon advised, his tone calm but pointed.

I clicked my tongue, my gaze landing on the other men waiting ahead of us. Their expressions were carefully neutral, but I could read their thoughts as clearly as words on a page. They were questioning my decision to bring an outsider like Hayeon here.

"Take Hayeon and get her changed. I'll speak with Mikha'il Ra Gual alone," I said firmly.

Hayeon frowned, confused. "I thought your name was Revien."

"It is," I said, turning to her briefly. "Go with Shavon. He'll make sure you're taken care of." I glanced over my shoulder at him. "Right, Shavon?"

He nodded silently, and I turned back to Hayeon.

Without waiting for further protest, I walked away toward the throne room.

Two bodies lay crumpled on the floor as my father, Mikha'il Ra Gual, adjusted his robe and settled into his chair.

"Son," he greeted, his deep voice echoing in the vast room.

"Father," I replied, feigning boredom.

"I hear you brought a girl home," he said, brushing a hand over his stubble.

"So?"

"So," he repeated mockingly, leaning forward slightly. "You know the rules, and you are to abide by them. Since you brought this child here, we can't simply send her back."

I stiffened as his tone darkened.

"She will die at midnight."

My blood turned cold. "You won't be killing her, Father," I said firmly, meeting his gaze.

Amusement flickered in his eyes, and he smiled. "Oh? And why wouldn't I kill your new toy?"

I bit my lip, suppressing the anger threatening to spill out. "I'll listen. I'll follow orders. Don't do anything to her, and I'll act as you want."

His laugh boomed through the room as he rose from his seat.

"You know," he began, placing a heavy hand on my shoulder, "I always thought you were just like your mother—cold, unfeeling, a killer with no emotions who still needed to learn my teachings." He paused, studying me. "But you aren't, son."

He smirked, his voice dipping low. "You're like me."

He began pacing, his hands clasped behind his back. I folded my arms, my posture tense.

"And what will your toy do?" he asked, his tone almost casual.

I hesitated for only a moment. "She can become one of us. Learn our ways," I urged.

He stopped pacing and looked down at the ground as if deep in thought. When he finally looked up, my back straightened instinctively.

"If she can survive the ceremony and the training," he said slowly, "she can join the Guild of Assassins."

I didn't let my relief show, but inside, I smiled.

"Now," he said, waving a hand, "tell me how you killed the diplomat."

I gave him a detailed report, carefully noting every action and decision. Once dismissed, I left to find Hayeon.

I searched Shavon's room first, but it was empty. Frustration simmered as I moved through the training rooms and finally toward the guest quarters.

Shavon stood outside one of the rooms, his expression tense.

"Azail," he greeted as I approached.

"At ease," I said curtly. "Is she in there?"

"The maids are dressing her," he replied.

I nodded, leaning against the wall. "What's your question, Shavon?"

He hesitated but finally spoke. "Why did you bring that girl here? Your father will kill her."

"She's going through the ceremony tonight," I said without hesitation.

Shavon's face paled, and he shifted uncomfortably.

"She will be victorious," I added firmly.

His expression betrayed his unease, but he didn't argue. We both knew the system. Everyone who joined the guild had to go through the same trials. It was my father's belief that to dedicate oneself to the guild, you had to leave your old life behind—completely.

The door opened, and the maids exited the room. I stepped inside to find Hayeon standing with her back to me.

She turned around, and my breath caught. Her damp, natural curls framed her face, and her dark eyes stared at me with a mix of defiance and uncertainty.

"I can't stay, can I?" she asked, her voice barely above a whisper.

I grinned, masking my thoughts. "Why don't you think you can stay?"

Her fingers trailed along the edge of the bed. "Some things are too good to be true," she murmured, frowning.

"You'll have to go through a trial tonight," I said, my tone dark. "But if you succeed, you can stay."

She didn't flinch, only nodded resolutely. This girl was a mystery.

I watched as she ate her meal, practically inhaling it. When she finished, she wiped her mouth with a napkin and glanced up.

"Azail," Shavon called from outside the room, knocking lightly.

"Why do they keep calling you that?" Hayeon whispered.

"It's my official name," I explained. "A sign of respect, as the son of Mikha'il Ra Gual. But you," I said, meeting her gaze, "you're the only one who gets to call me Revien. It's the name my mother gave me."

I saw the wheels turning in her mind as she processed my words.

"Come in, Shavon," I called lazily.

Shavon entered, his hands behind his back. "It's time," he said solemnly.

The maids returned, carrying a black sarhee.

"Get dressed," I told Hayeon, "and I'll escort you."

We stood before the thick wooden doors leading to the ceremonial chamber.

The room beyond was dimly lit, with men surrounding a pool of ceremonial water. My father stood in the center, the water lapping at his ankles.

I let go of Hayeon's hand and stepped back.

"Come to me, child," my father commanded.