Ascendant

Cassia held her brother's knife to the throat of the reigning king.

It took her only thirty-seven minutes to breach palace security and find her way into the sleeping chamber of King Maxwell. Even with the disturbances she caused in villages trailing to the capital, the palace security didn't think to defend itself against anything but brute force.

So she slipped through the cracks in a maid ensemble and kept her head down as she walked the halls she spent hours committing to memory. Cassia entered the king’s chambers through the unguarded service passage and now stood above her king’s sleeping form.

Even monsters look peaceful when they rest. Cassia forced the point of the knife into his neck, avoiding the jugular. She didn't want to kill him just yet. He awoke with a start as the trickle of warm blood ran down his neck and stained his fine silk, white despite the blood of millions on his hands. Cassia saw understanding in his features as they locked eyes. She glared into his soul with the fire of millions who have lost sons, daughters, sisters, and brothers to the war he created. She thought of her brother and took a breath.

"Any last words, your Majesty?" she taunted.

He breathed a deep laugh and looked around the room, unconcerned. He had accepted this as his fate long ago.

"Slash, don't stab." He muttered, flashing white teeth stained red with his own blood.

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Cassia strode with confidence into the main hallway, her footsteps echoing on the quartz floor and the crown in her hands dripping blood. The four guards stationed at the late king’s door spun around, assessing the threat.

"I am Cassia of Mountainia, and I claim my right to the throne under the laws of the True Ascendant Charter. I have killed the king. I demand my right to trial."

The guards hesitated, their hands moving to their guns. They were in uncharted territory. The inheritance of power by killing the king has held true since the establishment of their region in 450 AW. But a woman has never successfully made the kill, much less a girl. Their duty was to bring her to the Carrier of the Crown, who would oversee the passing of power.

Cassia was frequently underestimated. "Is there a problem, boys?" She snarled. She wouldn’t mind for this to end with their severed heads on the floor.

The highest-ranking guard, marked by a black aiguillette, finally let in and nodded his head in the direction of the main hall. "This way."

The guards formed a diamond around her and marched Cassia through the ornate hallways. They finally stopped the daunting cherry wood doors Cassia knew they would ultimately arrive at. The doors towered above them, engraved with the lineage of the kings, symbols of Montainia, and in the center, the very crown she held in her hand.

The ranking guard knocked three times. The hinges squeaked as the door slowly cracked open to reveal the Carrier, who was about to be made useful. His curious eyes met hers and he glanced down, noting the bloody crown in her hand. It may have just been her imagination, but she swore that his stoic gaze hid a smile.

ღლღ

Cassia stood at the window overlooking the arena where the conclave was soon to begin. It was the last test to prove her worthiness of the throne. She had passed the previous trials with little effort. She was well versed in the region's laws and proved to be a just ruler when faced with ten challenging cases hand-selected by the Carrier. She ran multiple scenarios of national emergencies and saw the best response results since King Raymond II took the throne. She had already strengthened the guard, retraining them vigorously, not to mention creating bonds with the men who she had to trust would protect her. She had already planned the treaty she would soon propose with the Northerlands once crowned. Which could be as soon as next week.

Next week, she could bring the regions to a cease-fire. Next week, she could stop the deaths of millions of teenagers taken from their families to fight for a pointless war started by petty kings. Next week she could avenge her brother.

The only thing standing in her way was the conclave.

Now, she had to put on a show for those who would soon be her people, displaying her strength. Displaying her ruthlessness. There was no other way she could keep the crown for longer than a month unless she showed everyone what would happen to them if they crossed her. There were already enough people protesting her claim to the throne, the media ablaze with debates and opinions of those with far-reaching influence on the masses, claiming that a girl cannot rule the region. Insisting she is incompetent, hormonal, and naive. Cassia wasn’t concerned by their gossip. Her focus remained on her last trial. There was plenty of time to prove them wrong during her reign.

She touched the glinting gold locket around her neck, thoughts moving to her brother. Her finger traced its shape, a heart, resting just above her own. She carefully unclasped it and gazed at the picture of them together as children on one side and a short handwritten message on the other.

I’ll miss you, princess.

Cassia grimmly smiled at the message and felt her eyes well up and chuckled to break the tension that seemed to build in the room. Seems like she’d be proving him wrong too.

A horn sounded, initiating the five-minute countdown before the start. Cassia unclasped the locket and held it tightly in her hand.

“For you, Caleb.” She whispered. She closed her eyes and kissed it before placing it in a safer place than on her neck.

She grabbed the last of her weapons and ducked through the doorway, following the guard sent to escort her to the arena floor.

Her heavy steps echoed down the stairway and into the cavernous hallway affixed with the gate that would lift in less than three minutes. There were few people nearby. She thought of the men that stood there before her, and remembered seeing them on broadcasts, swarmed by advisors and guards giving them any helpful information before the second horn sounded. No one was there to warn Cassia of her opponent's strengths or clue her in on their weaknesses. Nobody believed that she would make it out of this alive. Good thing she did her own research.

The second horn sounded, and Cassia touched her neck again, feeling for her absent locket. The gate started to steadily rise, gritting on it’s tracks. Cassia stepped forward, and the citizens packed into the seats of the arena cheered. She saw signs with her eyes dripping blood and laughed. She was unaffected by the opinions of an uneducated and blood-hungry crowd.

Once she had made her way out onto the gravel stage, the opposite gate rose, revealing her first opponent, Norman Reyes, a recognized and skilled fighter in the region. He specialized in hand-to-hand combat, but he was excellent with a knife. She started to work her way around the arena, waiting for Reyes to make the first move. Cassia would not come to him.

He saw her game and sprung into a sprint, coming at her while yelling with purpose. He leaped at the last second, trying to land his right foot in a kick to her chest. She dodged to the right, grabbing his leg and spinning. He landed with a thud but didn't hesitate to kick Cassia's own leg out from under her. She expected this and landed in a crouch.

Cassia pounced on him as he attempted to recover, and she hastily gripped his neck, pinning him to the ground. After a few moments of squirming in her grasp, Reyes gave up on prying her hands away and swiftly punched her in the nose. Her nostrils spurted blood, and Cassia was taken aback, giving him the opening he needed to flip the script. She now laid under him, her face hot and throbbing, and she saw the glint of a knife as he unsheathed it from his boot. She almost laughed, seeing the greed in his eyes. He wanted the kill. He wanted to be the "savior" of the region from a weak throne.

What a fool. Cassia knew tunnel vision would crowd his mind, and she acted while he was blinded by his arrogance. He went to strike her with the butt of the knife, intending to give the people a show before he killed her.

Reyes used too much of his body in the jab, and his weight shifted far enough for Cassia to use the momentum to flip him on his stomach. She straddled his back and used the base of her palm to smash his fingers, white from gripping the knife. He released it as he seethed in pain, and Cassia snatched the weapon while grabbing his hair with her other hand. She pulled his head back harder than necessary and brought the knife to his throat.

She leaned into his ear and whispered.

"Surrender."

He huffed and replied through his clenched teeth. "Never."

Cassia pulled his head farther back and pulled the knife in so it would bite at his skin, making him more aware of his current standing. "Your arrogance will land you in your grave, Reyes. Surrender or die."

After a moment of labored breathing, he accepted his loss. The crowd grew quiet, barely daring to whisper in the stands.

"Fine." He relented.

"Say it louder, Reyes. The people must hear it from you." Cassia whispered still.

His eyes shifted up to the thousands watching, his enlarged face on the screens lining the walls. "I surrender!" He yelled against the strain of her clutch.

The horn sounded. There was a mix of boos and cheers from the stands, creating an odd melody as guards escorted her opponent off of the arena floor. They wanted this to end with bloodshed. But she would not take after the murderers who previously sat on the throne. She would be ruthless, but there would be no unnecessary death.

Each of her next four opponents left in the same state, looking down with shame as guards led them off the stage. Each surrender led to more cheers, the crowd now finding delight in the girl who defeated the region's most feared fighters. She looked up at them, her determined gaze meeting those who made up the crowd.

Cassia turned, taking them all in. She carefully studied the people. Her people. And she smiled.

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Cassia floated down the aisle constructed in the great hall of her palace, flanked by seats filled with the region's elite. Her long dress shimmered in hues of gold and blue, her region's colors. Cassia stepped up onto the platform where the Carrier waited and turned to him, the fluid fabric of her dress glinting in the rays flitting through skylights.

She repeated her vows to the region, the Carrier's words becoming her own. She felt the definiteness of the change she would soon enact as she knelt before him, her heart beating rapidly as the crown was laid upon her head. She wore no jewelry except the small golden locket around her neck. It glowed in with the same light as her crown and spread warmth into her chest. She tuned out the lengthy discourse as she stood, meeting the Carrier's eyes. They emitted the same warmth of pride that spread from her locket.

She took the jeweled orb and scepter in her hands, holding the proof of her new position. A graceful smile found its way onto her face, and she felt a relieving flood of peace after the intensity of the trials she had just endured. Cassia faced her people, suddenly calm. They stood, and she heard the Carrier wail.

They paused, then returned the sentiment with a thunderous roar.

"LONG LIVE THE QUEEN!"