There’s so much to do and so much to prepare before her departure tomorrow. She must delegate her duties to her subordinates, pack her bags, get informed on what exactly is happening at the Hillantan-Zagran border, and secure her rooms and all the secrets within their walls.

Having only six weeks to do this job means that her treacherous brothers, nobles that are here for court, and those nasty little consorts have six weeks to attempt to collect dirt on her. There are many that oppose her entry in the Trials. They don’t want her to have a chance to become ruler of the country, and even though her father will not be dying any time soon, many have tried time and time again to disrupt the line of succession.

Doing so usually ends in their deaths, but it seems that many believe that the cause is worth the risks. Karma believes that their efforts would be better placed in trying to kill her, rather than attempting to disprove her legitimacy. She supposes they know that they lack the skills required for a feat like that.

While the Empire of Hillanta is a monarchy, it isn’t a hereditary one. Sourcers are pack creatures, meaning they only follow the strong. There have been many attacks on Emperor Karmic, but because he is undoubtedly the strongest and most capable sourcer in the nation, they have all failed. Typically, if the king is murdered, the one that killed him will take his place as leader. Those who wish to dispute it merely wait until the Trials, which take place instead of a crowning ceremony.

The Trials are merely a series of tests meant to determine the capabilities of a royal sourcer. All the nation’s nobles are encouraged to put forth a candidate to take part in these tests, though it usually isn’t worth it, for loss means death. The winning candidate cannot allow those that would try to dispute their claims to the throne to live, of course.

Karma sits in her study, envelopes with her own royal seal stacked up to her chest, when she hears a knock at her door. She settles her veil in place before answering, “Name?” She has no need for niceties.

There is silence before an answer comes back, filtered by the wood that separates them. “It’s me, Trilana.” Of course it is her. It was only a matter of time before her sister came searching for answers.

“You may enter,” Karma calls out as she finishes signing what she hopes is her final letter of the night. She sits it to the side so that it might dry before she folds it. Trilana enters in the meantime, her fingers nervously picking with each other. “Stop that. You know what father says about a woman’s hands.”

“They are a representation of her demeanor.” The young girl mimics their father’s voice as she quotes him. She stops when she stands before the grand desk, her wide eyes roaming over what looks to be a disorganized mess.

“What can I do for you, Launny?” The girl’s face puckers at the sound of her childhood nickname, but the expression is quickly swallowed by one far more solemn.

“Baron told me what happened while I went to get the medic.” Her straight brows furrow as her eyes water. “You’re leaving?” Karma knew this would come. As both the youngest and the most useless, Trilana didn’t suffered the same childhood that her older siblings had, and as such, she had far less control over the emotions that she displayed.

She could turn into a truly pitiful emotional wreck within seconds. As her sister’s only friend and female role model, she had tried to teach her what she had learned, but Karma had found that either she made a terrible teacher or Trilana was a very insolent student. Nothing stuck. And so Trilana wept more than a newborn baby.

Karma could do little more than tell the girl to stop and divert her eyes in a sad attempt to give her some privacy. “Yes. I will be back in a little more than a month.” She folds her hands as she stands from her desk. Trilana’s lower lip trembles. “Now why are you crying?” She should be happy. If Baron told her everything that father said, she should be ecstatic that she isn’t being sent to her death.

The girl’s shoulders begin to shake. “If you’re gone, who’s going to let me sneak into their room at night? Who’s going to steal snacks from the kitchen when father’s too anger to allow us breakfast? Who’s going to protect me?”

If she had been a different woman living in a different world, the sight of her baby sister needing her protection would crack her heart. Instead, it just angers her. Her jaw clenches tight before she says the words that she believes her sister needs to hear. “You, Trilana. You must grow up. The world is a scary and nasty place, and I have done you a great disservice by sheltering you from it.” By protecting her from their father. “Let this be your first lesson in life, sister. The world will go on, even if you are not protected and prepared. Make sure it doesn’t have to. Now leave, I have business to attend to.”

The tears do fall, and Karma is quick to cast her eyes back towards her desk. Trilana doesn’t take long to understand that Karma will not be exchanging sweet goodbyes with her. The girl leaves, a trail of tears soaking Karma’s beautiful wolf-skin rug.

She doesn’t know what to do about her sister. The girl is far too soft to survive in the world beyond these walls, and the only reason she’s survived this long within the manor is because she has learned to stick to the shadows whenever the King is around.

Karma is certain that Trilana wouldn’t be here now if she hadn’t picked up on this small key skill years earlier. But it isn’t enough. This isn’t the time for thoughts like this, anyhow. Karma folds her last letter, settling it into an envelope before pouring melted wax onto its opening.

After sealing it, she gathers the remaining letters and sets off to have them delivered.

Light had long since left the skies overlooking Hillanta. The young woman sits on the daybed of a hall’s window, her hair unbound, and her face unveiled. She stares into the night, her unnerving burgundy eyes trained on the clouds drifting through the sky.

She feels eyes on the back of her head, but it isn’t until the man speaks up that her eyes cut their focus. “Lady Karma. Captain informed me of your summonin’s.” Her head turns, pushing her wild curls over her shoulders.

Hendrix stands, uncertain of what she could possibly need from him so late in the night. “Yes. Thank you for joining me, Mr Hendrix.” Karma stands, the lengths of the gossamer nightgown dragging along the polished limestone floors. “Is cell 323 cleaned and ready to host again?” Her long bell-shaped sleeves hide her folded arms as she approaches the guard.

His eyes are trained on her face. She watches as they flutter around, taking in all the features that millions of people have been dying to catch a glimpse of. She knows that he is surprised by what he sees. She expected as much. “U-uh, yes Lady Karma. I asked Captain Grion and he gave me a detailed rundown of how the cleansing should go.”

He swallows, and Karma’s eyes follow its trail down his throat. She sighs. “You are not ready to serve in the royal prisons.”

His back straightens, his puppy eyes widening. “Ma’am! I am-”

Karma’s hand flies up, silencing him. “When I look at you, I see a man that wants to protect. That wants to serve. But while you may have a few years of experience being a guard in the south, you have little experience when it comes to the inner workings of the capital. I saw it in your eyes today. You thought me a monster-” His mouth opens as if to deny it.

But she shakes her head. “And it is well within your rights to think that. But what you cannot do, as a member of the royal guards, is be so loose with your emotions. Not when your chi could be used to unlock prisoner cells. And so I offer you a proposition.” This guard is likely only a few years younger than herself. He must have started training as soon as he came of age, or when he came into his powers. But he lacks the proper training to survive in the capital.

“Your choices are as follows. You can become the personal guard of Trilana Rinafi, second daughter of the King of Hillanta. You can accompany her on her own trainings and learn with her how to control your emotions. You can protect her with your life from those at court that wish to see my father fall. Or you can go back home.”

While it is true that Trilana must learn to protect herself, in more ways than one, Karma would never leave her baby sister so exposed. The guard does have a choice, it just isn’t the one she posed. Either he protects her sister willingly, or she will have to force him to.

She had a few correspondences with the Captain about his newest hire and learned a few things. His abilities could aid her sister. He is also new to the capital, and therefore has no biases and no loyalties. If Karma knows anything about her sister, it’s that the girl knows how to garner pity and sympathy. Given time, the guard will learn to follow her fiercely. She just has to put him in the correct position.

“I-”

“Make haste, Mr Hendrix.” Karma smiles, and it is a fierce thing. “This is not the only thing I must do tonight.” The boy’s eyes dart to and fro, but in them, Karma sees his answer. And relief fills her.

He drops to his knees, his hair falling over his eyes. “It would be my honor to serve Princess Trilana, my Lady.” While she is happy to not have to use force to sway his choice, there are still precautions she must take.

“Give me your hand, Mr Hendrix,” Karma orders, standing above the man. He does as asked.

“Should everything go as planned, you will be rewarded handsomely.” She stabs his palm with the point of her nail, drawing blood. “And should you fail, you will end up with a far worse fate than prisoner 323.” She licks the tip of her nail.

Then she steps back, and she lets the dreary energy within her take control. Karma’s eyes roll back and her mouth forms words that correspond with her thoughts. “Should you betray Trilana Rinafi, should you fail to protect her with your life, Hendrix Dodra, you will pay. Your hands, your legs, and your tongue will be mine to collect.”

A mage of higher power would be able to see what emanates from the great Lady Karma. Unfortunately, Hendrix is not a higher mage, just a rare sourcer. Tentacles of looming red chi streams from the woman, pooling into the guard and wrapping around his hands, his legs, and sliding between his lips.

Even if Karma is not here to see it, a breaking of his oath will result in the guard becoming a cripple, unable to walk, to ever hold a sword, or to speak of what happened here tonight. The irises of her eyes become visible once again. “Return to your post. I shall have instructions sent to you in the morning. Farewell, Mr Hendrix.”

He leaves, his aura now filled with more of Karma’s chi than his own.

Chest heaving, the young boy can barely keep his heart from pounding painfully against his ribs. He’s sure that she will hear it. And if she doesn’t hear his frightened heart, she will surely sense his fear clotting up his veins. Baron’s hand squeezes his mouth to keep it from screaming.

Never in his life has he sensed such horrendous energy, not even from the king himself. As he stares at his sister, her face unveiled for the first time in sixteen years, he finally understands why it is that their father favors her. Her powers are the embodiment of evil itself. The boy shivers as he recalls the slimy and filmy texture of her chi brushing against his own aura.

There is no doubt about it.

Karma will achieve whatever it is that she sets out to do. Once she completes the Trials… Baron does not know what place he will have in this world. While he is not disliked by his sister, as Finious is, he is not loved like Trilana. The future queen is indifferent to him. Most people are.

He’s the second son, the one born from an average noblewoman, the one with average magical abilities. He wasn’t even gifted with combat capabilities. Baron can’t even remember the last time his father said his name, much less looked in his direction. He’s nothing, and he has just been reminded of how insignificant he truly is.

At least Trilana has her beauty. She could be married off to a high-ranking nobleman from the republic. She could become a baroness, collecting gossips about the common folk for the crown. But what can he do? Sneak around in the shadows, shivering within his boots?

His brother was right.

Karmic has no use for him now, and Karma will have no use for him when she takes the king’s place. “Who’s there?” His heart stops beating. Dread fills his body, stripping him down to his natural instincts: fight or flight. He shakes, his knees periodically knocking together.

Steps sound, trailing closer and closer.

“I finally understand now why you’ve never let anyone see your face.” Finious? It seems that both brothers had the same idea. Maybe it’s because Karma has always represented something unattainable to them.

She had father’s praise. And if he had a heart, she would surely have that as well. And because they’ve never really seen or known their older sister, neither of them could figure out what she has that they don’t.

Well, they know now.

She has a power beyond their understanding. “Is that so, little brother.” Finious stands at six feet and eight inches. His shoulders are so wide that Baron could never fit any of the clothes that were handed down to him. And his muscles… Finious is a beast given sourcer flesh. How his sister, a mere six feet tall, can look him in his eyes without a quiver in sight is unimaginable to Baron.

The very thought of staring his brother in the eyes has sent a pain pulsing through his chest. And there lies the problem with Baron Rinafi. There is his fatal flaw.

He is a cowardice mortal skulking around a den full of ravenous panthers.