Ren had just achieved the perfect sleeping position—a rare accomplishment that had taken forty minutes of adjustment—when his door exploded open like subtlety had been outlawed.
"Get up."
He flailed awake, nearly falling off the narrow bed. Elanil stood in the doorway, fully armed and armored despite the ungodly hour. Moonlight caught on her silver hair, creating a halo effect that was thoroughly ruined by her expression of militant impatience.
"What? Why? Is the world ending ahead of schedule?"
"Training. Now. Unless you prefer dying in your sleep when the next assassin isn't as incompetent as today's."
"Today's? What assassin? I've been unconscious!"
"Exactly the problem." She tossed training clothes at his face. "Dress. You have thirty seconds before I drag you out regardless of clothing status."
Rating: 2/10 for warning, 10/10 for motivation via embarrassment.
He scrambled into the clothes, noting they were different from before—darker, with reinforced panels that suggested tonight's training would hurt more than usual. "It's midnight. Normal people sleep at midnight. Even abnormal people sleep at midnight."
"Assassins don't keep business hours." She turned her back while he changed, a courtesy that somehow felt more intimate than if she'd watched. "Besides, I have something to tell you. Something the council doesn't need to hear."
That got his attention. He finished dressing in record time. "Something about the prophecy? Or about why Tyrael looks constipated whenever someone mentions bloodlines?"
She glanced at him sharply. "You noticed that?"
"Hard to miss. He's about as subtle as a neon sign saying 'I have guilty secrets.'"
"Dress faster and maybe you'll learn something beyond how to disappoint your ancestors."
"Jokes on you, I mastered that skill years ago."
The training ground at midnight felt different. More alive. The bio-luminescent plants pulsed in rhythm with the moons above, creating shadows that danced and writhed. Elanil had cleared a circle in the center, various weapons arranged with military precision.
"Tonight we work with true steel," she announced, selecting a blade that caught moonlight like liquid silver. "Dulled, but still capable of injury. Pain teaches better than words."
"My favorite kind of learning. Right up there with 'public humiliation' and 'failure through repetition.'"
She moved into stance, but something was different. Usually, her pre-fight posture radiated confidence and barely leashed violence. Tonight, tension wound through her frame like a spring compressed too far.
"Before we begin," she said quietly, "I need to tell you something. About my sister. About why I believe the prophecy even though I'd rather throw you off the tree."
"Mixed signals, but okay."
"My sister led a scouting expedition into the Mist borders five years ago. Standard mission—check the barriers, report anomalies." Her knuckles whitened on the sword grip. "They found something. Someone. Walking through Mist that had dissolved everything else."
Ren's throat went dry. "White hair?"
"White hair. Human features. Clothes from no culture we knew." She finally met his eyes. "He spoke to her in a language she didn't recognize. Gave her something—a small device. Then walked back into the Mist like it was morning fog."
"What happened to—"
"She died. Three days later. The Mist had touched her, marked her somehow. But before she died, she spoke of the Pale Walker. How he seemed sad. Lost. Like he was looking for something that no longer existed."
"And the device?"
Elanil reached into her armor, pulling out something that made Ren's brain stutter. It was a phone. Cracked, ancient, but unmistakably a smartphone from Earth. The screen was dark, but etched into the case were Japanese characters: 待ってる.
"Waiting," Ren translated automatically. "It says 'waiting.'"
"You can read this too?" She stepped closer, holding the device between them. "What is it? What does it mean?"
"It's... communication technology. From my world. But who would write—" He touched the power button from habit, not expecting anything.
The screen blazed to life.