Tales of Endasia: The Beginning of Alexandrea SIlverhart

How did the SIlver Assassin come to be? Alexa's childhood isn't as posh as some might think...
*Cover by Sophia Fletcher*


10. Ebony... And Shopping.

My dream is more of a nightmare, one I frequently have.  I’m back in the palace, in my room, and it is scalding hot. I pull at my dress but it’s like it's glued to my body.

My mother walks into the room, holding a single, red, rose, her long blonde hair cascading behind her. The heat doesn't seem to affect her at all, and she smiles sweetly at me.  Her smile seems to increase the heat in the room, and I claw at the dress.

“Sweetheart, please make your mommy a silver rose.” I shake my head, and her smile falters.  The heat increases, and I find that I can’t breathe.  

The room darkens and my vision gets tinted red.  My mother's hair starts to tangle and blow behind her, her dress rips and red blossoms in spots all over it.  

Make it Silver, Alexandrea. Now!” She throws the rose onto my lap as I gasp for air. I reach for the flower, and when I make contact with it, nothing happens to it.  Instead, I feel my feet turning to scalding hot silver. The liquid travels up my legs and arms. I try to scream, but my throat fills with hot silver, and my breath is cut off completely.

My vision goes black, the last thing I see is my mother laughing in front of me, blood dripping from her eyes, mouth and nose.



I sit up in a silent gasp, my body covered in sweat.  I glance near my feet and see that Lawson is still sleeping soundly.

I get out of the bed and go to the washroom, where a metal basin waits to be filled with water. Being in ElfHaven, most things are run on magic, so when I touch the tub, it slowly begins to fill with water.

I strip out of my sweaty traveling clothes, and sink into the water, which is the perfect temperature. I scrub the nightmare and travel dust from my body, then wash my long hair, the water turning it from dark brown to black. When I exit the basin and it immediately drains.  Its seems pointless to wash when i’m just going to put my dirty clothes back on, but I really don't care.  I needed to wash my mother's memory from me.

My hair weighs me down, but I don't do anything with it. Most female assassins do cut their hair, but I couldn't bear the thought of parting with it. As girlish as that sounds.   

When I leave the washroom, I find Lawson still asleep.  

He sleeps like a dog. I smile at my own joke.  I locate Lawson's pack and grab the rest of the flowers, turning them all to silver.  By my count, Lawson and I will each have seven flowers to spend.

I stalk around the room for about an hour, watching the suns fully rise, before I wake Lawson up.  

Or try to.

I yell, hit, scream into his ear, yet he doesn’t wake.  I sigh and look down at him, hands on my hips. What do you have to do, to wake up a stinking Werewolf?

Suddenly, an idea pops into my head, and I run down to the pub to fulfill it. When I return, I’m hauling a bucket of ice water, a wicked grin on my face.  

“Bath time, doggy!” Lawson's eyes shoot open as I dump the frigid bucket onto him.  He lets out a howl and jumps up, shaking the water from him.

“The heck was that for!?” He yells at me. But I’m too busy laughing to answer him, and eventually he joins in.  “Alright, I’ve learned my lesson. No more buckets of freezing water!”

“No promises!” I laugh. He smiles and runs a hand through his chocolate hair.

“I’m starving, where can I get a good meal around here?”

I roll my eyes. “I had them put two plates out for us. And I put the flowers in your pack, so we can head straight out after we eat.”  He nods.

“You seem to have everything planned out. How long were you awake?”

I shrug. “Couple hours.”

“Why didn't you wake me?”

I glare at him. “I tried dummy.” He cracks a grin and grabs his pack.

“Lets go.”  I nod and grab my cloak, wrapping it around me.  We walk into the pub, eat the meals set out for us, pay, then head out into the town.

We stop at many shops, one being a blade stand where Lawson talks to the owner for about an hour. I get bored after looking at the blades, (which were, in my opinion, not crafted very well,) three times over, so I wander around to the other shops near us.

One is particularly interesting. A small shop next to an alley, as I watch, no one even glances at it, in fact, no even acknowledges it, but I don't know why. I walk in and am immediately impressed.

All along the walls, potions and magic items hang, some even float. Books fly through the air, nearly taking my head with them couple of times. Wands and staffs dual in a corner, sooting red and gold sparks everywhere.  A small cage hosts a beautiful phoenix bird, and pixie lights dangle from the ceiling which seems to go up forever.  My jaw drops as I take in everything.

“Are you looking for anything in particular, miss?” I look up and find an old woman staring at me from behind a counter. “You look a little young to be carrying daggers like those.” I look down at my thighs, where the knives are strapped.

“I’m not that young, I’ll be ten in a week.” The woman, who looks to be of faery descendants, smiles warmly.

“Ah. Well, in that case, you’ll need some proper blades.” She hobbles out from behind the counter and walks to a glass case holding many daggers. “Which one do you fancy, dear?” I scan the various knives, until my gaze lands on a beautiful, but deadly, ten inch blade. Its handle is finely crafted, and the blade widens towards the front, before slimming down to a sharp point. I point it out the the woman.

“I like that one. ” The faery takes it from the case and sets it on the counter.  

“You have a very refined taste, this is made of almost indestructible metal, and is enchanted with faery magic. Once the knife knows you’re its owner, it will only be loyal to you.”

“What do you mean?”

“This knife will always miss its mark if it is used by someone other then yourself."

​I nod at her explanation, that sounds very useful. “Do you have two?” She smiles, and waves her wrinkled hand over the knife, muttering in what sounds like elvish.  Suddenly, a second knife, identical to the first appears next to it.  I blink, startled by the use of her magic.

“Now I do.” She smiles again. “I assume you are in the assassin business, am I right?”  I hesitate and she winks. “I thought so. You’re one of Tanzy’s, right?” I gape at her, caution thrown to the wind.

“You know Tanzy?”

She nods. “We were old friends. I was once in that business myself, Tanzy and I were partners.  But eventually I was ready to stop.  He offered me a job as a commander at the Nest, but I wanted to leave that life behind. So I returned home. Someday you might want to do the same.”

“If I ever do, I’m not going home.” She nods and doesn’t push the topic, instead she goes behind the counter, strifling through a couple of boxes until she pulls out a small pack.  It looks like the max it could hold is a couple of books, so I have no idea why the old woman brought it out.

“This little pack went everywhere with me when I was part of the Nest, one of the most useful things I have ever owned.”

“But it's so small!” She chuckles.

“Looks can be deceiving, darling.” The faery reaches around and grabs a large, thick book, way bigger than the pack, but somehow, to my amazement she slides it in with ease. She holds out the bag to me, and I take it, and I’m surprised to find it as light as a feather.  


“Faery magic.” She smiles, a twinkle in her eye. I look at the knives and the bag, both of them practically begging me to buy them.

“How much for the bag and the daggers?”

“Hmm. You can have them for a copper.” My jaw drops.

“I can’t do that! You would be basically giving them to me for free!” She smiles.

“It would make me very happy to see you with these items, so I don't care about the money.”

“Well, I can't take these for free! At least take this.” I pull a silver flower from my old pack. Her eyes brighten as she takes the flower.

“You have magic.”

“Just a little, how did you know?”

“I can feel it in this flower. Whats your name?”


She studies me for a moment before setting the flower to the side, turing her attention back to the daggers. “I need your full name.”

“I just told you...”

"No, you told me the name you go by, not your full name."

I fiddle with my hands nervously. "Uh, why?"

“For the knives dear, I have to carve your name in elvish for them to be controlled only by you.” She cocks her head. “I won't tell anyone, if that's what you are worried about.”

I hesitate, then whisper. “Alexandrea Araya Silverhart.” Her eyes twinkle again as she waves her hand over the knives.

“I suspected so.”

“What? How!?”

“Theres something about you, some power that I’ve felt only once before. But that story is for a different time. And your eyes, they are quite the giveaway. ” Before I can say anything she hold the knives out to me. A curved line traces down the blade, in the line, is what I assume to be my name in elvish.

“Its beautiful. I’ve never seen a language like this before.”

“Most can’t read it. That book I put in the pack will teach you all you need to know about the language.”

“You’re giving away too much.” She smiles and holds up the silver flower.

“I have my payment, Alexandrea.” She pushes the bag and knives into my hands. “Goodbye, my dear girl, I hope to see you again.”

The whole encounter feels so short, and even though I badly know this woman, I feel a strange affection for her.“Wait, whats your name?” She smiles.

“Ebony.” She replies. And then, she disappears.





Join MovellasFind out what all the buzz is about. Join now to start sharing your creativity and passion
Loading ...