In every plan, no matter how accurate, there will always be flaws.

In this instance, even though the king’s plan could be considered magnificent, a mistake was made when they left that room: Sai, the servant.

One of Sai’s gifts (the only one, in his perspective), was his hearing. Ever since he was young, he could hear much more than the other kids could, almost extraordinarily. He could hear the sound of a feather landing on the floor from ten meters away, or he could hear the sound of the strings of the archers’ bows when they let them loose, even when he was standing at the other side of the palace. But he had never revealed the extent of his hearing to anyone other than his parents who were now, unfortunately, dead.

If he had, they wouldn’t have let him be so close to private meetings, as he could hear through the big doors. And now, Sai wished he had told everyone about it. Because he heard everything the King said in the throne room, he heard about their plans. And he felt compassion for Sayfire, who had been tricked like that. Should he tell someone?

Since the King and the General didn’t come out of the front or the side entrance, the soldiers, and supposedly Sai as well, didn’t know whether they were still inside. So they had to wait there. Sai couldn’t tell the soldiers about it because, if his hearing ability reached the ears of the King, he could be found floating upside down in a river.

So, while they waited, he thought.

He didn't know exactly what was going on, but he couldn't help himself from siding with Sayfire. He despised manipulative people as his parents had died due to that kind. He knew of the king’s plan, but what could he do to stop it? Of course, he would never commit treason, but he figured it was at least worth a thought.

The king’s plan was based on secrecy, but now the cat was out of the bag. But then again, if they were keeping Sayfire and her guards silent, perhaps there would still be harm to the King if the plan leaked. In that case, Sai and only Sai could leak it, but they didn’t know. Who could he leak the plan to? He had no real friends in the palace. All other servants seemed to dislike him, and he disliked them too. Then who should he talk to? The only person he could think of was his sister, but…

Those were Sai’s thoughts when another soldier approached the door, interrupting Sai’s thoughts. The golden signs on his shoulders implied that he was ranked high in the military chain of command. “They are in the back rooms”, he said to the ones guarding the door. “You can go.”

“Yes sir”, they replied at once and, after saluting, left their posts followed by Sai. “Looks like you weren’t needed after all, boy”, said the kind guard who had helped him earlier.

“Thank you, sir. Goodbye, sir”, he mumbled and ran to his room, walking back the corridors he had walked with General Leon before.

Sayfire walked into her room and banged the door behind her. In there were several officers of the White House she had brought along, all of them active members of the revolution.

“Garet, report”, she ordered as she sat on a chair in the middle of the room and crossed her legs. Due to the seriousness of the situation, the usual formalities were skipped.

“There is a messenger missing since last night. The others didn’t report it because they thought he was having an affair with one of the servants of the palace, but we asked around and that is false”, answered Garet, a middle-aged man. “Should we inform the others? They still let us move freely inside the palace.”

He was referring to the Green and Blue Houses, but he didn’t want to mention their names in case anyone was eavesdropping.

“No, let them be for now. They had too little involvement thus far, so the King may not know about them yet”, she replied, massaging her temples. “Do we have anyone left inside the palace?”

She was referring to spies of the revolution, or people who could easily be bribed. To minimize casualties if they got caught, only Garet knew their identities.

“A few, but we can’t risk making contact. We are being watched.”

“What about you, Makarem?” asked Sayfire. Makarem was leaning against the wall at the corner of the room, his stance revealing he had not dropped his guard. He never did, actually. The others inside the room had an ominous feeling about the man, so they tried to avoid talking to him.

Little was known about Makarem, other than him being a high-end spy and assassin who had been working for the Revolution for a while. He spoke, and his voice was deep yet silent, but it revealed great concentration.

“Too dangerous. Even I may fail.” Sayfire frowned. For Makarem, who had a reputation of never failing any job he had accepted, as well as never declining any jobs as long as enough money was paid, this was a hard statement.

“Does anyone have any other ideas?” asked Sayfire. Most people in the room took a sudden interest in the ceiling or the floor. They were the White House’s representatives in the Government. Only the few Sayfire had brought with her from Waterslide didn’t avert their gaze, but they had no ideas either. The burden of decision fell entirely on Sayfire. The joys of leadership, she thought, entertaining herself in her irony.

“Makarem!” she commanded, turning to the assassin. “It may be dangerous, but we have no other choice. Will you do it?”

“As I always have. I will set out at the last hours of the night, when the guards will be most sleepy”, he replied obediently and, after receiving an encoded message from Garet to deliver to his target, as well as the location of his target, he exited the room with his cape swirling around him, dancing to the gust of wind entering from the open window. After he left, Sayfire dismissed the rest, telling them she wanted to stay alone for a while. After they left as well, she thought she should take a bath. All that had happened had made her sweat. Then she collapsed on her bed and cried herself to sleep.

🧙‍♂️🧙‍♂️🧙‍♂️

Leaving Sayfire’s room, Makarem went to his own, which happened to be right next to the one he had just left. After locking the door, he touched his right ear to the wall separating his room and Sayfire’s. He heard the others, annoying people if anyone asked him, leave the room. He heard Sayfire cry, and when she stopped crying and fell asleep he still waited.

He waited another half hour, until he heard what he had been waiting for. The distinctive sound of one’s joints cracking as he stood up, after sitting for a long time.

As expected, it came from the room above Sayfire’s. He then waited another half hour to make sure the one overhearing them had left. All in all, he had remained still for about an hour, but he had no problem with that. Patience is a necessary skill to someone in his line of work.

Makarem then approached his bed. He crouched underneath it and pulled out a big chest, lifting it from the ground instead of dragging it to avoid making any noise. The chest was filled with his clothes, to avoid raising suspicions. He unlocked the chest with a key he had hidden in his left shoe and gently pushed the clothes to the side, trying not to unfold them too much. He slid his fingers in a small hole at the corner of the chest’s bottom and lifted the fake floor.

Below that, were a black, iron-laden rope with a hook at the end, a thin iron wire, two knives, and a shortsword. He took out everything except for the sword, and, after locking the chest, put it back below the bed.

Makarem then took off his clothes. They were a colour somewhere between green and brown on the outside, but once he wore them inside-out the true colour, black, was revealed. He wrapped the rope on his right shoulder and placed one of the knives in his left shoe. He put the other one on his belt, where he could easily reach it. He forced the wire into a circle and put it in his mouth, right behind his lips. This way he could still have it if he got captured, although it could injure his mouth badly if he got punched. He had told Sayfire he would go at the end of the night, but that was just a lie to fool anyone who might have been eavesdropping. He would go right now.

He walked to his window and took off the wooden frame. He had made sure to get rid of the screws when he first got here. Now that the frame was out, there was barely enough space for his body to fit through. Not that the lack of space would have been a problem to his flexible body.

He got outside and anchored himself to the wall, stepping on the narrow wooden ledges that stuck out of the wall to support the floor inside. Despite all his experience, Makarem began to sweat. One misstep and he would fall down to the ground, ten meters below. He looked down and realized the first miscalculation he had made.

There was a guard patrolling right below him. If the man looked up, Makarem would be completely exposed. Luck is part of one’s strength, thought Makarem. If that guard was to look up, so be it. There was nothing he could do about it. He wouldn’t back down on a job he had accepted.

He began to crawl across the wall. According to his calculations, he had to move twenty meters to the right, right below a rock balcony two floors above. Ignoring the guard below him, he somehow made it. The guard hadn’t looked up, and was now moving away to patrol somewhere else. They never look up. Why do they find the ground so attractive? Makarem thought and sighed silently.

He waited for the guard to go as far away as possible. This was the riskiest part of his job. He took the rope from his shoulder and threw it on the balcony. He knew that he would only get one shot, so he did it carefully. He also knew that during the period when he was only using one hand to grab onto the wall, even a sudden gust of wind could throw him down, so he did it swiftly.

In the whole world, only very few people could have thrown the hook in such a way that it would attach itself on the balcony. Makarem was one of them, and he did it on the first try. The sound of the hook hitting and anchoring itself to the rocks echoed all over the palace. The silence of the night made that sound not just loud, but deafening. Makarem put both his hands on the wall again and stood still, hoping the guard wouldn’t look up. He had measured the rope so it wouldn’t reach the ground below him, it was hanging at around his waist's height.

As expected, the guard ran back to where Makarem was, but thankfully the trees blocked his vision until he got directly below him. As was also expected, another guard’s head appeared on the balcony. Makarem had taken care that the hook wouldn’t stand out too much in color, so he didn’t notice it.

Incredibly, none of the guards looked at Makarem. The one on the balcony looked up while the other looked around himself, as if they both assumed the space between the floor and the balcony would be covered by the other. After a short while, they went back inside. It wasn’t that unusual for sounds to occur around the palace these days, anyway. Makarem smirked at his knowledge of human naivety.

After the guards went away again, Makarem began to climb the rope. After a short tug to test if it could hold his weight, he went at it immediately. His luck saved him again, making sure that both the hook held up and that the guards did not hear the sound of the hook rubbing against the rocks. They say luck favors the bold, thought Makarem and smiled.

He had been very lucky ever since his birth. At school and, later, at the Espionage Academy, he had gotten out of many dangerous situations just because he was lucky. Even his enrollment there was a product of luck. Of course, that didn’t mean he wasn’t qualified. On the contrary, Makarem was extremely skilled and he trained much harder than most. But there are some things that can’t be acquired with just skill. That’s why Makarem was the best.

He climbed on the balcony, ready to deal with anyone who might have been lying in wait. To his relief, he met none. Behind the balcony was a long corridor with a few doors at each side. He hid at the edge of the balcony and waited until he had caught his breath again. He had time, nothing unexpected had occurred so far.

While he waited, he concentrated and listened to the sounds of the palace. His hearing was another thing he was proud of. On his best days, he could hear a feather dropping at the other side of the room. Now, he heard the snoring of guards coming from behind a door close to the balcony. Apparently, someone wasn’t too dedicated to his post. He walked past the door and turned the corner with his knife at hand, ready to strike.

There was nobody there either, just more corridors. Makarem assumed they had no guards inside, so he increased his pace. After a while, he reached the room he had been aiming for. He quietly slid the door open to find a bunch of servants sleeping inside. He never really liked people who obeyed commands. He was different, he did it for money, of his own accord.

He scouted the place with his eyes and located the person he was looking for. Careful not to wake the others up, he approached the target and woke him up by closing his mouth with his hand, so he wouldn’t make any sound. Unfortunately for Makarem, the servant tried to escape from him before he realized what was going on, and while on that he kicked another servant.

Makarem held his breath and grabbed the iron wire in his mouth. If the other servant woke up, he would have to kill him. The unlucky man moved a little to the side, but didn’t stand up. Apparently, the target moved a lot while asleep. The target was fully awake now, and a bit surprised as well. Makarem didn’t know his name, and he wasn’t interested in knowing. He handed him the encoded letter and turned around to leave the room.

“Thank you”, whispered the servant, but Makarem had already left.

On the way out, he lowered his guard. He thought about the content of the message he had just delivered. The revolutionaries thought he didn’t know the code, but he had actually figured it out long ago, when he had found an encoded message in the clothes of a dead rebel. It had taken him less than two hours to decode it.

He arrived at the balcony, satisfied with the excellent execution of his mission, and reached for the hook. When he saw that it wasn’t there, a cold fear surged from his legs to his chest, grabbing his heart like an iron chain. He turned around to see someone standing behind him. He couldn’t make out his face in the dark, but he was tall and firm, though not too big in size. The question of how that man had gotten so close to him unnoticed crossed Makarem’s mind, but he had other priorities.

Drawing his knife, he assaulted the man in silence. If he was fast enough, maybe he still had a chance of getting away from the palace. As Makarem’s knife approached his face, the man dodged to the right. Then, while Makarem’s knife was still coming towards him, he changed his mind and dodged to the left.

Makarem missed and a fist like iron landed on his chest. He was already knocked out cold before he landed on the floor. As it happens before death - or when one thinks they're dying -, Makarem felt time slow down and his senses get sharper. Just as he was hit, he noticed a lean shadow moving behind the man. He followed it with his eyes and was terrified when he saw the end of it. Is that a scorpion tail? he thought, but didn't have time to process it further.

The last thing he saw before passing out was a devilish smile on the man’s face, which reminded him more of an animal than a man. His lips were drawn back and his sharp teeth were exposed. His eyes were filled with madness and hatred, thirsting for blood. Makarem didn’t fear death. Even death would be a blessing if it took him away from those eyes.

Makarem didn’t die at that time. And for the rest of his life, there wasn’t a night when he didn’t wake up covered in cold sweat after dreaming of those eyes.

As his opponent collapsed before his feet, the man with the scorpion tail looked up at the sky and let out a howl in such a low frequency, that it was impossible to be heard by humans. But every dog and cat in the palace and in the town surrounding it woke up, and none of them slept again that night.