Echoes of Broken Vows

Chapter 11

Rowan felt nervous, as the time of their planned assault was getting closer, this time he was doing it alone, and he had no one but himself to trust.

His whole world was changing quickly around him, the temple, once a place of quiet study and reverence, had transformed into a fortress of paranoia and suspicion.

Guards patrolled the corridors at all hours, their armored footsteps echoing through the halls. Initiates moved in hushed groups, their eyes darting nervously, afraid to speak above a whisper lest they draw unwanted attention.

Rowan passed by every day at the main hall to see the wall filled with papers, new rules were posted there daily, each more restrictive than the last, already leaving almost no empty space for new ones.

He knew he’d need to be even more careful when going for tonight’s assault. Curfews were strictly enforced, with harsh punishments for those caught out of their rooms after hours with no exceptions. Random inspections became common practice, with Nimblings searching through personal belongings, looking for contraband or any evidence of disloyalty. Privacy became only a distant memory.

Rowan found himself exhausted, with every day that passed it was harder to maintain his cover, every action and word was carefully measured. He maintained his facade of loyal devotion, all while his heart raced with the knowledge of what he was about to do.

His secret felt like a physical burden that pressed down on him with each passing hour. How long will I have to carry on with this? He wondered.

Rowan made sure he would have the day clear for his preparations, he devoted significant time to honing his combat skills. He spent the early morning at the temple’s training grounds, now under strict supervision as well, he pushed himself through grueling exercises, the sweat on his body reflected slightly the golden glow of dawn.

Later in the afternoon, Rowan noticed Sam across the temple’s main hall.

At first, Sam seemed not to notice him, but shortly later their eyes met with a flicker of understanding, and longing passed between them. Sam’s face maintained the facade of calm authority, revealing nothing of the tension Rowan knew he felt, except a gentle smile towards Rowan.

Seeing Sam mixed his anxiety with a contrast of warm sensation within his stomach, which helped strengthen Rowan’s resolve. As evening approached, he retreated to his quarters, with the excuse of feeling ill. In reality, he used this time he had left for final preparations.

He carefully inspected his weapons, making sure everything was intact, he had to clean stains of blood off his sword from their last battle. The silver mask and ebony attire of their previous mission were carefully hidden, ready to be donned when the time came.

He practiced the swift, silent movements that would be crucial for the ambush. He rehearsed drawing his weapon in one fluid motion, visualizing one of the guards in front of him. Later into the night, he worked on his balance and agility, moving through complex forms with the grace of a dancer and the deadliness of an assassin.

Rowan felt every second ticking by with agonizing slowness. The anticipation of the coming night’s events made each task feel surreal. He went through his routines mechanically, his mind constantly drifting to the mission ahead.

Rowan’s senses seemed heightened, every sound from the corridor outside his door making him tense.

As the temple bells marked the tenth hour, Rowan began to move. With the stealth born of years of training, he slipped out of his quarters and made his way through the darkness of the corridors.

The increased patrols added an extra layer of danger, and complicated his exit, forcing him to use every trick he knew to avoid detection. Finally, once outside the temple walls, Rowan moved swiftly through the sleeping city’s rooftops. The cool night air helped clear his head, sharpening his focus on the task ahead.

He made his way to the location Sam had suggested, arriving with plenty of time to scout the area and find the perfect vantage point. As he settled into position, hidden among the rocks and vegetation, Rowan ran through the plan one last time in his mind. He checked the position of the moon, trying to think about how its light would affect visibility during the attack.

Every detail, no matter how small, could make the difference between success and failure. The distant sound of wagon wheels reached his ears, growing steadily louder.

Rowan’s heart began to race, but his hands remained steady as he readied himself for action. He could see the convoy now, three wagons moving slowly along the road below.

His eyes scanned the group, quickly finding Sam among the guards. As the wagons entered the narrow pass, Rowan held his breath.

He watched Sam intently, waiting for the signal that would set everything in motion. The moment stretched, taut with tension, as Rowan prepared to leap into action and change the course of their world once more.