A cold knot tightened in Anal's stomach. Every rule, every lesson on discipline, screamed at him to alert the guards, to report this blatant breach to Guru Vrish. Neel had not only broken the curfew; he had a secret accomplice. This was no mere childish rebellion. This was a conspiracy.
But a different, more primal instinct took hold—one of suspicion and a fierce, personal need for answers. He would confront Neel himself. He would uncover the truth and present it, undeniable, to the Acharyas. Let Neel try to talk his way out of that.
Moving like a wisp of smoke himself, Anal slipped past the same inattentive guards. The forest at night was a different world—a tapestry of ominous shadows and unnerving sounds. The cheerful birdsong of daylight was replaced by the hoot of owls and the rustle of unseen creatures in the undergrowth. He used the training he had honed for warfare: stepping lightly on damp leaves, using the thick trunks of Sal trees as cover, his breathing controlled and silent.
He caught glimpses of them ahead—two dark shapes moving with purpose. They weren't speaking, their silence more telling than any conversation. Who was this other person? A spy from a rival kingdom? An agent sent to corrupt the prince of Neelgarh? Anal's mind raced with possibilities, each more dire than the last.
After what felt like an eternity, the figures stopped in a small, hidden clearing where a rocky outcrop broke through the forest floor. A shallow cave, little more than a dark mouth in the stone, lay before them. Moonlight spilled into the clearing, illuminating the scene with a pale, ghostly glow.
Anal crouched behind a thick bush, his heart pounding a frantic rhythm against his ribs. This was it. The rendezvous point.
Neel stood facing the taller figure, whose features were still obscured by a deep hood. Anal strained his ears, catching the faint murmur of their voices.
"...sure you weren't followed?" the hooded figure asked, his voice a low, gravelly rumble. It was a voice Anal didn't recognize.
"Positive," Neel replied, his tone uncharacteristically serious. "They see only what they expect to see. A mischievous prince, nothing more."
"Good. The timing is critical. The pieces are moving faster than we anticipated." The hooded figure shifted, and a shaft of moonlight glinted off something metallic on his belt—a dagger with a hilt carved like a coiling serpent. "Your role is more important than ever. You must be ready. You must gain his—"
The man stopped abruptly, his head snapping up. He was looking directly towards Anal's hiding place.
Anal froze, pressing himself deeper into the foliage. Had he made a sound? Had his breathing been too loud?
The man's hand went to the serpentine hilt of his dagger. "We have a rat," he growled.
Neel's eyes widened, following the man's gaze. For a terrifying second, his eyes seemed to lock with Anal's through the leaves. A flicker of panic, then grim resignation, crossed his face.
In that moment, something inside Anal broke. This was no longer about justice or rules. This was a threat. The man's intention was clear, his posture that of a killer. Without a second thought, driven by an impulse he didn't understand, Anal stepped out from his hiding place.
The gravelly-voiced man tensed, his dagger halfway out of its sheath. "You."
Anal stood his ground, his own hand resting on the hilt of the practice sword he still carried. "Neel. Step away from him."
But Neel didn't move. Instead, he looked from Anal to the hooded man and did the one thing Anal least expected.
He moved to stand between them.
"Stop," Neel commanded, his voice ringing with an authority Anal had never heard from him before. He was no longer the playful prankster or the angry youth from the library. He was a prince, issuing an order.
The hooded man hesitated, his grip on the dagger tightening. "He has seen me. He has heard too much. He is a liability."
"He is under my protection," Neel said, his voice dropping to a dangerous whisper. "You will not touch him."
A tense silence hung over the clearing. The hooded man seemed to weigh Neel's words, his unseen gaze burning into Anal. Finally, with a sound of disgust, he shoved his dagger back into its sheath.
"This changes nothing," he snarled at Neel. "The plan proceeds. You have made your choice. Now live with the consequences."
With a final, menacing glance at Anal, the man melted back into the shadows of the forest, disappearing as swiftly and silently as he had arrived.
The clearing was suddenly, deafeningly quiet. Only the two of them remained, standing feet apart, the air crackling with unspoken accusations and the ghost of a deadly threat.
Anal stared at Neel, his mind reeling. The accomplice was gone, but the mystery had only deepened. Neel had protected him. He had called him a "liability" and placed him under his protection. None of it made sense.
"Who was that, Neel?" Anal's voice was rough with adrenaline and confusion. "What 'plan'? What is going on?"
Neel turned to face him fully. The moonlight carved deep shadows on his face, making him look older, wearier. All traces of his usual levity were gone, replaced by a grim and heavy burden.
"You shouldn't have followed me, Anal," Neel said, his voice flat. "You've just stepped into a game you don't understand. A game where the stakes are not just our lives, but the fate of kingdoms."
He took a step closer, his blue eyes holding a storm of conflicting emotions.
"And the most dangerous part," Neel whispered, the words hanging in the cold night air, "is that you are not a player in this game, Anal. You are the prize."
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