The fifth morning at the Order of the Burning Blades arrived with a feeling Kaelin couldn't quite name.
Not danger—though that was always there. Not excitement—though the portal still pulled at her thoughts. Something else. The kind of stillness that comes before a storm, when the air goes quiet and animals stop moving and everything waits.
[INSIDE]
MAMMON: Something's wrong. I can feel it.
AZRAEL: You feel that every morning.
MAMMON: THIS TIME IT'S REAL.
IRIS: Atmospheric pressure: normal. Ambient noise: normal. Dain's usual breakfast table: empty. That's the anomaly.
---
Dain wasn't at breakfast.
Not in the Outer Ring mess. Not visible anywhere. Tessa didn't notice—she was too busy describing her latest field disaster (something involving a very angry goat and a mud puddle). Roran noticed but said nothing, just ate his porridge with the quiet intensity of someone who'd learned that noticing things was safer than commenting on them.
But Kaelin noticed.
And Beckett, on her shoulder, noticed her noticing.
"He's planning," Beckett murmured. "Boys like him don't disappear. They regroup."
[INSIDE]
MAMMON: The bird is right. He's regrouping. He's planning. He's—
AZRAEL: —eating breakfast somewhere else. Probably.
MAMMON: OPTIMISM IS NOT HELPFUL RIGHT NOW.
---
Training that morning was normal. Too normal.
Captain Vex ran them through forms, then sparring, then conditioning. Tessa fell three times. Roran executed perfect blocks. Berin looked tired. Everything exactly as it should be.
Except Dain wasn't there.
And every time Kaelin looked up, she caught someone watching.
Not Dain. Other recruits. Older ones. Inner Ring, by the look of their gear. They weren't obvious about it—just glances, just moments, just enough to notice if you were paying attention.
[INSIDE]
IRIS: Surveillance detected. Three individuals. All Inner Ring. All watching our position. All making eye contact then looking away. Pattern: coordinated.
MAMMON: TOLD YOU. TOLD YOU SOMETHING WAS WRONG.
AZRAEL: They're just watching. That's not—
MAMMON: YET.
---
By midday, Kaelin had almost convinced herself it was nothing.
Almost.
Then the note appeared.
Tucked under her tray in the mess hall. Small. Folded. No name.
Training yard. West wall. After meal. Come alone.
---
[INSIDE]
MAMMON: TRAP. OBVIOUS TRAP. SCREAMING OBVIOUS TRAP.
AZRAEL: We're not going.
MAMMON: WE'RE NOT GOING.
IRIS: Probability of trap: 97%. Probability of positive outcome if we go alone: 12%. Recommendation: do not go alone.
---
Kaelin looked at the note. Looked at Beckett.
Beckett looked at the note. Looked at Kaelin.
"So," Beckett said. "We're going, obviously."
"We're not going."
"We're definitely going. We're just not going alone." Beckett's eyes gleamed. "I'm a crow. I'm always with you. That's not alone. That's accompanied."
---
The west wall of the training yard was the oldest part of the Outer Ring.
Less used. More shadows. Perfect for conversations that weren't meant to be overheard.
Kaelin walked there after the meal, Beckett on her shoulder, three souls on high alert.
Two figures waited.
Not Dain.
Older. Taller. Inner Ring recruits—the same ones who'd been watching earlier. One held a staff. The other had his arms crossed in a way that suggested he thought he was intimidating.
He was wrong, but he didn't know that.
[INSIDE]
MAMMON: Two. Not Dain. His friends. His attack dogs.
AZRAEL: Stay calm. Assess.
IRIS: Combat assessment: both taller, both older, both likely better trained in formal techniques. But we've killed a mountain cat. We've killed a firebird. We've climbed a mountain. They've... trained in a yard. Advantage: us.
The genuine version of this novel can be found on another site. Support the author by reading it there.
---
"You're Kaelin," the one with the staff said. Not a question.
"I am."
"Dain sends his regards." He stepped forward. "Says you need to learn your place. Says you've been causing problems. Says someone needs to remind you how things work here."
[INSIDE]
MAMMON: Learn our place. LEARN OUR PLACE. We've been here five days and we already—
AZRAEL: Don't. Don't react.
IRIS: Mammon's restraint: 23%. Azrael's restraint: 89%. Combined: functional. Barely.
---
Kaelin's voice stayed calm. "Dain's not here. That's interesting. He sends other people to do his work. What does that say about him?"
The staff-user's jaw tightened. "You talk a lot for someone who's about to—"
"About to what?"
Beckett shifted on Kaelin's shoulder. Cleared her throat.
"I wouldn't," the crow said, "if I were you."
The two recruits laughed. Genuine laughter, the kind that came from people who thought they were in control.
"A talking crow," the crossed-arms one said. "Cute. What's it going to do, peck us?"
---
Beckett tilted her head.
"Peck you? No. That's messy. That's personal. That's the kind of thing that leaves evidence." She gestured with one wing—up, toward the window above them. "I'm going to do something much worse."
They looked up.
Captain Vex stood at the window. Arms crossed. Face like stone. Watching.
---
[INSIDE]
MAMMON: SHE PLANNED THIS. SHE KNEW. SHE—
AZRAEL: —brought us here on purpose. Through this route. Past that window.
IRIS: Beckett's surveillance network: confirmed. Her strategic planning: exceptional. Her commitment to our survival: absolute.
---
The staff-user's face went pale. "That's—that's not—"
"That's Captain Vex," Beckett said cheerfully. "She's been watching for the last three minutes. She saw everything. Heard everything. Including the part where you admitted Dain sent you." She preened. "I'm not just a crow. I'm a surveillance system with feathers."
The crossed-arms one started backing away. "We were just—we weren't going to—"
"Save it for her."
Captain Vex's voice cut across the yard like a blade.
She'd left the building and crossed the distance in seconds—silent, efficient, terrifying. Her eyes swept over the two Inner Ring recruits, then settled on Kaelin.
"Explain."
---
[INSIDE]
MAMMON: Explain. EXPLAIN. We didn't do anything. They—
AZRAEL: Let Beckett talk. She's better at this.
IRIS: Beckett's persuasion probability: 94%. Our persuasion probability: 67%. Agreed.
---
Beckett hopped down from Kaelin's shoulder onto a nearby barrel, positioning herself at eye level with Captain Vex.
"I'll explain. These two individuals—staff-user and crossed-arms—were sent by Dain to intimidate Kaelin. They admitted it. I have it on good authority that this violates approximately seventeen Order regulations regarding inter-recruit conduct." She tilted her head. "Also, they threatened a crow. That's a crime in seventeen kingdoms. I made some of them up, but the principle stands."
Captain Vex's expression didn't change.
But something in her eyes shifted.
"Both of you. My office. Now."
The two recruits fled.
---
Captain Vex turned to Kaelin.
"You knew they'd be here."
"I suspected."
"And you came anyway."
"I had Beckett." Kaelin met her eyes. "And I wanted to see if Dain would send others to do his work. Now we know."
Captain Vex studied her for a long moment. Then, almost imperceptibly, nodded.
"Go back to your barracks. Stay there until dinner. This will be handled."
---
[INSIDE]
MAMMON: Handled. HANDLED. What does handled mean?
AZRAEL: It means Dain is in trouble. Real trouble.
IRIS: Probability of Dain facing consequences: 89%. Probability of those consequences being sufficient: unknown. But progress.
---
The barracks that afternoon was quiet.
Too quiet for Kaelin's liking. Tessa was at field duty. Roran was in the forest. The other recruits were elsewhere—training, working, living their normal lives while Kaelin sat on her bunk, waiting for news.
Beckett was at the window. Watching.
"They're meeting," she said. "The elders. I can see them through the window. Theron's there. Captain Vex. Some others I don't recognize." Pause. "There's a man I haven't seen before. Dark hair. Expensive clothes. Looks angry."
[INSIDE]
MAMMON: Expensive clothes. Angry. That's—
AZRAEL: Dain's father.
IRIS: Confirmed. Family influence. Political pressure. This meeting could go many ways.
---
The waiting was the worst part.
Kaelin paced. Beckett watched. The afternoon stretched like hours.
Finally—footsteps.
Not Kiren this time. Theron himself, standing in the doorway of the barracks, expression unreadable.
"Kaelin. Come with me."
---
The walk to Theron's office was silent.
Not the comfortable silence of friendship. The tense silence of something about to happen.
When they arrived, the room was full.
Theron behind his desk. Captain Vex by the window. Two other elders Kaelin didn't recognize. And in the center, standing stiff and furious—
Dain.
Beside him, a man who could only be his father. Same sharp features. Same cold eyes. Same expression of someone who'd never been told no in his life.
"Sit," Theron said.
Kaelin sat.
---
[INSIDE]
MAMMON: This is a trial. We're on trial.
AZRAEL: We didn't do anything.
IRIS: We're not on trial. Dain is. But his father is here. This is politics.
---
Theron's voice was calm. Measured. The voice of someone who'd done this many times.
"We're here to address a situation that has been escalating for several days. Incidents involving Dain and Kaelin. The chair incident. The crow incident. The belt. And today—two Inner Ring recruits sent to intimidate a younger recruit on Dain's orders."
Dain's father spoke. His voice was smooth, controlled, and completely cold. "My son has been the victim of harassment. A talking crow—clearly trained—has been targeting him. His belongings have been stolen. He's been humiliated in front of his peers. And now he's being blamed for defending himself?"
[INSIDE]
MAMMON: DEFENDING HIMSELF? HE SENT TWO PEOPLE TO—
AZRAEL: Quiet. Let them talk.
IRIS: Dain's father: skilled speaker. Skilled manipulator. Threat level: high.
---
Captain Vex stepped forward. "With respect, Lord Dain, your son was not defending himself. He was witnessed—by multiple sources—attempting to intimidate Kaelin on multiple occasions. He attacked her during sparring beyond acceptable limits. He sent older recruits to threaten her. That's not defense. That's aggression."
Lord Dain's eyes narrowed. "And where's your proof? The word of a crow?"
"The word of two Inner Ring recruits who confessed under questioning," Captain Vex said flatly. "They named your son directly. They described his instructions in detail. Would you like me to bring them in?"
---
Silence.
Dain's father looked at his son. Something passed between them—a conversation happening in glances and micro-expressions.
Then Dain spoke. His voice was smaller than usual. Almost respectful.
"I... may have overreacted. She embarrassed me. In front of everyone. I just wanted—"
"What you wanted doesn't matter." Theron's voice cut through. "What matters is the rules. The Order has them for a reason. To protect recruits from each other. To ensure fair treatment. To maintain discipline." He leaned forward. "You've broken those rules. Multiple times. In ways that can't be ignored."
---
[INSIDE]
MAMMON: He's admitting it. Sort of. He's—
AZRAEL: He's trying to minimize. To look sorry.
IRIS: Dain's remorse: calculated. His father's influence: obvious. Outcome: uncertain.
---
Lord Dain stepped forward. "My son is willing to accept consequences. But I'll be clear—this child"—he gestured at Kaelin without looking at her—"has been here less than a week. She's already caused disruption. If there are further incidents, I'll be requesting a formal review of her placement."
Theron's expression didn't change. "Noted."
Then he turned to Kaelin.
"Do you have anything to add?"
[INSIDE]
MAMMON: Say something. Say—
AZRAEL: Say nothing. Let them decide.
IRIS: Speaking now: risk. Remaining silent: safety. We've won already. Don't push.
---
Kaelin shook her head. "No, Elder Theron."
Theron nodded. Then he stood.
"Here's my decision."
---
The room went quiet.
"Dain. You're being transferred out of Group Seven. Effective immediately. You'll join Group Twelve—they're older, more disciplined, and their group leader has no tolerance for this kind of behavior. You'll have no further contact with Kaelin. You will not approach her. You will not speak to her. You will not send others to act on your behalf. If you do—if there's any further incident involving you and this recruit—you'll be expelled from the Order. No exceptions. No appeals."
Dain's face went pale. "Group Twelve? But they're—"
"They're what?" Theron's voice was ice. "Older? More experienced? Better trained? Yes. You'll learn from them. Or you'll leave. Your choice."
---
Lord Dain's jaw tightened. "This is excessive. My son—"
"Your son broke Order rules. Repeatedly. In front of witnesses. With confessions from his accomplices." Theron met his eyes. "The decision is made. You can accept it, or you can remove him from the Order entirely. Those are your options."
A long, terrible silence.
Then Lord Dain nodded—once, sharp, controlled.
"Understood."
He looked at Dain. "Come. We have arrangements to make."
Dain followed his father out.
He didn't look at Kaelin.
But she felt his hatred like heat from a fire.
---
[INSIDE]
MAMMON: He's gone. He's actually gone.
AZRAEL: Transferred. Not gone. But away from us.
IRIS: Dain's threat level: reduced by 80%. His father's threat level: increased by 300%. But today? Today we won.
---
When the door closed behind them, Theron sat back down.
He looked tired.
"That boy is going to be a problem for someone someday," he said quietly. "Hopefully not you. Hopefully not here." He looked at Kaelin. "You handled this well. Better than most adults would. Ghoran was right about you."
[INSIDE]
MAMMON: GHORAN. GHORAN BELIEVED IN US.
AZRAEL: Theron believes in us now too.
IRIS: Allies: confirmed. Dain: removed. Day: successful.
---
"Go back to your barracks," Theron said. "Get some rest. Tomorrow's another training day." He almost smiled. "And try not to humiliate anyone else. At least for a week."
---
The walk back was quiet.
Beckett on her shoulder. Stars beginning to appear. The mountain glowing faintly above.
"Well," Beckett said, "that was dramatic. I approve."
[INSIDE]
MAMMON: We won. We actually won. He's gone.
AZRAEL: He's gone from our group. That's not the same as gone from the Order.
MAMMON: I DON'T CARE. HE'S GONE FROM OUR LIVES. FOR NOW. THAT'S ENOUGH.
IRIS: Dain probability of future contact: reduced. Threat neutralized. For now. Celebrate appropriately.
---
Tessa was waiting at the barracks door.
"Well?" she demanded. "What happened? Everyone's talking about it. Dain's father was here. Dain looked like someone killed his favorite horse. Tell me everything."
Kaelin told her. Not everything—not the meeting details, not the politics—but enough.
Tessa's face went through approximately twelve expressions before settling on glee.
"Group Twelve? He's going to Group Twelve? Those guys are terrifying. They eat raw meat and train at dawn and never smile. He's going to die."
"He's not going to die."
"He's going to wish he died." Tessa grabbed Kaelin's arm. "This is the best day. We should celebrate. I have stolen cake."
"You always have stolen cake."
"Exactly. I'm reliable."
---
That night, in the barracks, with Tessa's stolen cake and Roran's quiet presence and Beckett preening on the headboard, Kaelin allowed herself to relax.
Just a little.
[INSIDE]
MAMMON: We have friends. We have cake. We have a bird who commits crimes for us. This is the life.
AZRAEL: We have a place. For now. That's enough.
IRIS: Day five at the Order of the Burning Blades: complete. Status: Dain removed, allies confirmed, cake acquired. Survival probability: 94%. Improvement from yesterday: 2%. Overall assessment: victorious.
MAMMON: Add: we are very good at this.
AZRAEL: Add: we had help.
IRIS: Status updated. All systems resting. Cake status: consumed.
---
Outside, in the darkness beyond the barracks, a figure stood.
Lord Dain.
Watching.
His son was humiliated. His family's name damaged. His influence challenged by a child and a crow and an elder who should have known better.
He didn't move.
Didn't speak.
Just watched the barracks where Kaelin slept, and planned.
---
[INSIDE]
No detection. No warning. Just silence.
