CHAPTER 1
THE HUMBLE DUTY

A bead of sweat trailed down the side of her face as she leaned into a lunge, brown eyes trained on her opponent. Her performance in the battle was crucial—success would mean obtaining the title of Lieutenant, failure would leave her as the laughing stock of the squadron. Not that the latter had not been the case before. Her hands felt slick and clammy against the leather hilt of her sword. The heat of battle, especially those with such high stakes, had always made her antsy.

Jet black hair kept in a neatly tied mane at the top of his spine, inset charcoal eyes carved out between high cheekbones, and pasty skin etched with long ivory scars—her opponent bore the marks of a man who had seen his fair share of battles.

“You can’t keep up for much longer, Sumin,” he whispered, thin lips twisting into a thin smile.

Lieutenant Lee was five years her senior, something he flaunted whenever possible. His attitude had earned him a place on Sumin’s “ list” ten years prior. “That’s what you think,” huffed the younger, swiftly edging forward and jabbing her sword at his jugular. A well-placed pirouette rendered him out of reach along with Sumin’s sword, which he’d easily swatted away. Growling, Sumin watched the rapier clatter to ground, her gaze darting between the fallen weapon and her smirking adversary.

The fight had begun upwards of an hour prior, one of the longest battles of her life, and they’d drawn the attention of nosey students and officers alike. It wasn’t as if their mutual dislike for each other was unknown—in fact, it was capitalized upon by those eager for drama in a place where it was otherwise unacceptable.

In a clever showcase of skill, Sumin dove into a roll, edging a slim dagger out of her boot all the while. Triumphant, she rose haughtily, only to feel the sharp edge of a blade pressed against . A narrow rivulet of blood trickled down the side of her neck where the Lieutenant’s blade had nicked her. She winced.

“Game over,” came his voice in a thick drawl, grating against her ears. Sumin dropped her dagger. There was a beat of silence in which she could feel the smugness emanating off of him. He made a show of putting away his blade. It was common courtesy to bow to your opponent after a match; Sumin stormed off across the courtyard.

The gathered students snickered at her as she passed. “This is bull,” she barked. Lieutenant Lee mocked the enraged girl, earning hoots of laughter from his adoring fans. He barely even flinched when Sumin lodged a pocket knife she’d concealed in hear sleeve in the tree beside his head. “I’m not done here,” she spat, “you have not seen the last of me.”

. . .

“You were out of line!”

His fists collided with the table, thereby causing the tea set to clink and clatter. Sumin placed her own teacup to her lips and took a dainty sip, desperately avoiding the argument. It didn’t matter if Lieutenant Lee was a horrible person. It didn’t matter that he had lied and cheated his way into his position. It didn’t matter that he disgraced the clan. Sumin was supposed to be better than that. That had always—likely would always—be the philosophy of her father.

“Attacking a Lieutenant, improper battle etiquette, threatening an officer,” continued her father, the inclination of his voice growing. “Sumin, never have I been so embarrassed…”

“Father, I—”

His hand met the table with a crash, his cup having shattered. Sumin ducked as a shard of china flew in her direction. “You’ve disgraced me today,” His tone softened. Her eyes fell on the intricate floral detailing of the tea set. It had been a gift from a Village Chief, her father had once told her. He cherished it as he did all of the gifts he was awarded. Her fingers trembled and something unfamiliar pricked at her eyes. “Sumin, why did I take you in all of those years ago? Do you know?”

Sumin shook her head.

“It was because I saw something in you that day. I saw something in those big brown, tearful eyes. Do you know what that was?”

“Confidence?”

He shook his head. “No,” he replied. “I saw in you a drive, an ambition, an incredibly innate need to prove yourself. And I knew how precious something like that can be. I knew, as well, how dangerous it would become.” His hand encircled her own, his demeanor did not soften but calmed. “You’re not a child anymore, my daughter. You need to take that ambition and use it to fuel your work rather than your anger towards things—including people—that you cannot change.”

Her gaze trained on a scratch on the wooden table, one that she herself had made while playing with her father’s knives as a child. She traced the swirling pattern with a finger, a dull smile on her lips. On occasion, she yearned for her childhood. “But, that’s not why you called me here, is it?” whispered Sumin, looking up at her father, who seemed equally perplexed by the grooves in the table.

He looked past her, at a painting hanging on the far wall. She twisted around to examine it for the first time in years. Each was like a familiar friend and she found herself soaking it all in again—the feelings the odd painting elicited in her seemed almost foreign. “I always found your interest in that dusty painting to be intriguing. And I never did tell you the story behind it, did I?”

“No,” said Sumin giddily, “why?”

Her smiles were rare and reserved. Only her father—the General—deserved to see the joy that he made her feel. For everything he had done for her and for all of the times he had forgiven her for acting rashly, Sumin could only be grateful that he had taken a chance on a child as injured as herself.

“As you know, legend tells us of twelve Divine Forces: godly creatures who came on a day of reaping to save the human race from a great peril,” began the General, watching Sumin’s gaze flit over the twelve inky pillars at the forefront of the painting. “They’re depicted there. The Forces of Earth, Ice, Time, Space, Light, Flying, Water, Air, Healing, Lightning, Fire, and Mind.”

Her eyes scanned the painting, pinpointing each of the respective pillars. In the background loomed a large mass of willowy grey and blue. She felt a vague tingle in her spine—a distinct shiver followed and she averted her gaze from the frame.

“In times of terror, the Forces assemble to bring light back to the land,” he explained, drumming his fingers on the table. He hadn’t torn his eyes away from Sumin yet. “It’s time for that power to be awakened.”

The girl recoiled instinctively. Such a suggestion seemed almost heinous. “Father, with all due respect, the Forces are but a legend! They’re… a story parents tell their children at night… It’d be ludicrous to assume that they could—that they could possibly be real!”

A sigh.

“Sumin, you’re not a child, so I trust that the information I share with you will be kept confidential,” warned her father. She shifted in her seat, but gave a terse nod. “A fortnight past, I met with the leaders of five other clans in the Midnight Alliance in order to receive the annual decree of the Oracle,” he explained, his voice a mere whisper, “The prophecy we received held that in a year’s time, the forces of Evil would awaken again at the call of the Great Lord. Should the Divine Forces not assemble, the world would fall to darkness. Do you understand what that would mean, child?”

She swallowed thickly and replied, “The extinction of the human race, I presume.”

“Yes.” A heavy silence fell upon them. The existence of the Forces still seemed a lofty thought to the warrioress, who had learned long ago that what did not exist before one’s own eyes was never to be trusted. The General continued: “The Oracle predicted one other thing.” Sumin leaned forward at the beckoning of her father. “They predicted that the an orphan child adopted by a clan’s General would be the one to unite the Divine Forces.”

“An orphan?” Sumin reiterated. “Hold on, you don’t mean to suggest…”

“It is your destiny,” demanded the General, looking grim. His eyes were marked by dark circles and his skin appeared translucent and lacking in elasticity. “I do not wish to force this upon you, Sumin, but the fate of the world rests squarely upon your shoulders. Your actions in the year to come will alter the way the entire human race lives from now on. Do you understand that?”

Heat ebbed into her eyes and cheeks. Again, she willed tears away. It was not fair. She was positive that the title of Lieutenant was within reach if she continued to train. Her entire life had existed within the borders of the camp. Her fingers itched towards the sword by her side, something about having it near comforted her. “I understand,” croaked Sumin finally.

Warm fingers entwined her free hand, willing her to look up at the man across from her. His eyes were glazed with tears. “I am so proud of you, my daughter,”

Sumin chanced a smile before retracting her hand and standing. She stood at attention, head held high. A tear slipped down her cheek. Soldiers did not cry. Assassins did not cry. Night Crawlers did not cry. Her fingernails dug into her damp palm and drew blood. The world seemed to stand still in anticipation of her next words. Her father had gone in place of the General, who watched a fine soldier do her duty to the clan, just as she had always been taught.

“I humbly accept my mission with the utmost gratitude, General.”

Author's Note;

► Okay, so, I'm really bad at writing fight scenes. But, hopefully, writing this will help me with that. Anyways, I'm really excited to write thsi story, because I really like supernatural fics. So, yeah. Well, remember to comment, subscribe, and upvote as well!

[ 02.21.2017; EDITED. ]

► Peyton