Rayla would fix this. She had to.

It was her fault. Her fault the mission had been compromised. Her fault they'd come so close to being captured if not for Runaan's quick thinking. Her fault for letting the human guard live because of her weakness and inability to kill.

Her fault Runaan, who'd put his neck on the line in order to convince the council to allow her to tag on such an important mission, may be punished for that one moment of weakness. Her fault that her whole Turma, none of which she knew quite so well but whom she would lay her life down for in a second, may all suffer for her mistake.

Rayla had already suffered the shame her parents inflicted months ago when they abandoned their post, abandoned their duties, abandoned her—No, they were both dead to her now—and she had to prove that she wasn't like them. She must fix her mistake, show she had it within her to be a true Moonshadow assassin. To avenge Thunder's death and that of his son, the Dragon Prince.

Deaths her parents allowed in their cowardice.

So Rayla had to do this. She had to repair the damage she'd caused, putting them all at risk. Even if the thought of killing…. No, she had to go through with this. Justice would not be denied. For Xadia.

Surprisingly after scaling the wall, it became much easier to sneak through the castle. All she had to do was keep in the shadows and out of the guards line of sight. After all, she already had to...had to...kill King Harrow and his son. No more blood needed to be spattered.

Runaan would be furious when he found her gone, but he'd understand when she returned. Once she had justice. King Harrow's life in exchange for that of the Dragon Queen's mate, Thunder, and Katolis' heir, Prince Ezran, in exchange for the destruction of the Dragon Prince's egg. Just hours ago, she had bound herself to the mission. There was no turning back now. Even if she wanted to.

Which she didn't.

Yet why did the thought bother her so much? It was two lives. Drastically decreasing the number Runaan and their team may take to complete their orders. Because of her mistake.

It would be for justice. For the good of Xadia. And the humans deserved it, didn't they? For murdering their protector and his heir?

But would that make them even, or no less better than the humans?

My heart for Xadia, she had promised.

The binding on her wrists was a strict reminder of that oath.

As she wandered the corridors, keeping out of sight of any passing guards or servants, she came to the realization of something she hadn't quite thought through: She had no clue what Prince Ezran looked like. She hadn't thought to ask.

Well...he probably looked like his father...right? But there was also his mother, the late Queen Sarai. How would she—

Oh, family portrait. Good enough.

The older one held the whole family, both king and queen with two children. The one resting on the other side of the hall, however, appeared more recent, so she looked closer for reference.

King Harrow. And standing before him were the two children from the previous painting except older. The eldest was pale with short dark brown hair, a bright red scarf wrapped around his neck and draping over his shoulders. The youngest looked closer to his father, darker-skinned and holding a...large pet frog to his chest. But which one was the Crown Prince?

Obviously the older one. Still, it left a pang in her heart to know she was leaving the little one with his big, blue, innocent eyes brotherless and...orphaned.

It was for Xadia, Rayla reminded herself as she turned away to continue her search. Her heart for Xadia.

Just as she began to leave the hall, she jumped when a loud sneeze echoed through the hallway. "Bless you," she said on impulse.

"Thank you."

Her head snapped around at the small, young-sounding voice that responded. She whipped out her swords, flipping out the blades while she scanned her surroundings. "Who said that?" she demanded, seeing she was alone.

"I did," said the same young voice, and the portrait of the royal family swung open to reveal the small child from the painting. "Sorry, I didn't mean to scare you. I was just--" He cut off once he saw her. In fact, he froze entirely, one hand clutching a triangle-shaped treat and tucked under his other arm was his pet from the portrait, a bright yellow with turquoise spots all over its body with a face that appeared permanently angry.

At first, Rayla thought it was because she probably looked frightening. An elf with pointy ears and horns, only four fingers on each hand instead of a human's five. Then she remembered her hood was still up so it was probably more the fact a very sharp blade was being pointed directly at him by a stranger.

Finally, the young prince seemed to break out of his daze and held out the treat in his hand out to her, a nervous grin on his face. "Uh...jelly tart?"

Rayla was taken back by the question, but more so by that the boy's first reaction hadn't been to call out or run away. Instead...he'd offered her food.

How odd.

Hopefully if the human child acted this way around strangers, she could use that. All she had to do was play along. Only two targets were for right. No need for a third.

Of course it didn't feel right. Tricking a child to lead her to his brother and father so she could kill them. A pang of guilt made Rayla's hand falter as she lowered her blade. But assassins couldn't afford to feel guilt over their job. Assassins rarely showed emotions in general. They decided life and death, not right and wrong.

“Um, no thank you,” Rayla told him, resting her blades at her sides. “Listen, it's very important I...talk to King Harrow and Crown Prince Ezran. Do you happen to know where I might find them?”

The young prince thought a moment. “I don't know where my dad is right now,” he admitted, meeting her gaze. “But you can talk to me. I'm Prince Ezran.”

Rayla's heart dropped into the pit of her stomach as she stared at him. This was Prince Ezran? She hadn't expected him to be so… young. At the very least, she expected him to be about her age.

But no, Prince Ezran was a child. A child with wide, innocent eyes of blue that were looking at her now in confusion and concern. A child whose first response to a possibly dangerous stranger was to offer them his food. A child who, at the time, posed no threat to Xadia.

“What's wrong?” asked Prince Ezran, seeing the storm of emotions she was sure was stamped on her face. “Are you okay?”

Rayla pulled down her hood and stared down the Crown Prince while his eyes widened. She lifted her sword back up to line at his throat. He was so small and so young it wouldn't even take much effort to slice through. So...defenseless….

Since when did her hand start shaking?

“You're an elf,” the boy said in awe, clutching his pet to his chest who gave a distressed croak, as if trying to warn its owner of the danger he may not have realized himself to be in.

An innocent, just a boy. Just a boy.

“Yes.” Rayla steadied her hand. He was just a child. The Dragon Prince was just an egg. It would make them even, wouldn't it? But wouldn't it also make them just as bad, to slay something so defenceless and innocent who'd done no wrong to them?

No, she had to do it. The bindings…

They didn't just affect her, they affected her whole team, Runaan. King Harrow and Prince Ezran had to die. She swore she would finish it.

Her heart for Xadia.

But what about her soul?

How would she forgive herself knowing she'd killed an innocent? The humans may have done the same to the Dragon Prince, but why should someone who took no part in it, an heir, suffer for what his predecessors had done?

Would it be justice? Or murder? An innocent’s blood on her hands for Xadia?

Runaan. Runaan would know what to do.

Before she could decide what to do, another voice began calling out as footsteps drew close. “Ezran! Ez, where are you! Look, I'm sorry about what I said, but we really have to go! If this is a game, it's not funny anymore!”

Rayla's eyes snapped from behind her to the small boy in front of her. Time seemed to slow. The boy's mouth opened to call back or warn them, and she could either let herself be discovered or slit his throat before he could get out a single syllable. And it'd be easy. So easy.

But…couldn't there be another option? As Rayla wracked her brain, she knew she had to make a decision here and now.

“Cal—”

She lunged forward.

☪️☪️☪️

“Ezran! Ez, where are you! Look, I'm sorry about what I said, but we really have to go! If this is a game, it's not funny anymore!” Callum shouted as he searched the halls for his brother. Where could he be? Then he hadn't been thinking when he shouted at Ezran about assassins coming to kill Harrow.

And now he couldn't find his little brother in a castle set to be invaded by people looking to kill the King and anyone who stood in their way.

Where was he?

He had considered searching for him in the passages hidden within the walls, but there were just so many only Ezran knew, the only thing he'd accomplish was get himself lost. Playing hide-and-seek with him was enough to make one tear his own hair out. And it now seemed Callum was an unwilling participate of the game.

What was he going to do if he couldn't find Ezran in time? Obviously, he wouldn't leave without him, but what if the assassins came through the passages and found him? If anything happened to Ezran all because of a few words he'd said in a rash moment of anger, Callum would never forgive himself.

“Cal—” His brother's yell cut off abruptly followed by Bait’s familiar panicked croak.

Callum was 90% positive he left skid marks on the floor with the speed he turned and ran in the direction of the sound. “Ezran! Ez—” He froze once he came upon the scene.

One of the paintings on the wall was opened outward like a door, revealing a dark tunnel behind leading to who knows where. But the corridor itself was entirely empty except for him.

Ezran would never leave one of his “secret entrances” open.

There also was no body or even blood spattered along the wall. A small consolation if any. If someone had him, they were keeping him alive.

At least until they no longer needed him.

Assassination was one thing. Kidnapping was another. And not entirely improbable. If assassins discovered their plan was known, they would go for the next best thing. Ransom in exchange for the Crown Prince’s safety, a tactic Callum should have thought about.

Harrow would know what to do. Even Viren would know what to do. He may not like Callum, but he was the High Mage of Katolis, and he had always done what was in the kingdom's best interest. He had to know what to do.

All that mattered was that his brother was in danger. His baby brother.

Ezran, his wonderful stupid baby brother. His unique combination of sweetness, mischief and jelly tarts, his beautiful annoying baby brother, who makes up stories of treasure behind waterfalls and would never admit to misplacing his sketchbook after he borrowed it for the umpteenth time, who’s probably found every hidden tunnel and pathway in the castle for the singular purpose of searching for sweets.

His baby brother who crawls into his bed and curls up underneath his arms in the dead of night, whimpering from an imagined terror, who sneaks him bites of sweets while their tutors are distracted, who cheers for him in fights against Soren, who spends hours planning the perfect route into the bakery, who found an injured Bait, and spent months nursing him back to health rather than leave him to suffer.

His baby brother, who Callum firmly believes will one day become the kindest and most understanding king this kingdom has seen. Maybe not the most powerful, but if anyone out there could bring peace to the land and end the war with Xadia, it would be him.

His baby brother, not a baby, not anymore, but innocent, so innocent. His baby brother, who believes in the best this world has to offer, the best of humanity, the best of him.

(Ezran)

Eyes hardening with resolve, Callum took off down the hall, he shouted for help, hoping somebody would hear him. And if nobody would go after them, he'd go himself.

They would not touch him.

Years ago, Callum had lost his mother to Thunder. In exchange, four months ago, Thunder had been slaughtered. And now Ezran could be the next. A cycle. A pointless cycle of death and vengeance.

And Callum would do whatever it took to make sure his brother didn't become its next victim.