Within the darkness, Caspian woke up with a start, his eyes snapping open to find a gray ceiling over his head.

Wearing a small frown, he looked around, taking note of the intricate decorations surrounding him. Hanging along the stone walls were paintings and beautifully crafted weapons that were meant to be looked at, not used. Several gorgeous sets of furniture was spread throughout the bedchamber, each one made from a dark wood with a lacquered finish. There was even a sitting area that had a ritzy-looking table made of glass, with three chairs that had intricately carved patterns inlaid with gold. Like all of the rooms within Dorehan Tower, his room was posh and ostentatious, a place fit for kings.

There was nothing out of place. It looked exactly as it had right before he went to sleep.

So, why do I feel so uneasy?

Climbing out of bed, Caspian's feet sank into the soft carpet. The cool night air touched his bare skin, leaving goosebumps on his chest. His ears twitched several times, prickling, though not from the cold.

Padding over to where he'd stashed his clothes, his feet making nary a sound, he grabbed his sword and sheath, which leaned against an ornamental armour with a glossy finish. Even though there didn't appear to be any danger, his instincts told him that something was afoot—and he'd long since learned to trust those instincts. They'd saved him a number of times in the past. Including...

He shook his head. Now was not the time to dwell on such thoughts.

Next, Caspian grabbed his headband and wrapped around his head. His ears twitched some, but he ignored the minor discomfort that covering them caused. He felt naked without his headband.

He was just about to don his shirt, when his instincts, already on edge from feeling some unknown threat hanging in the air, blared inside of his mind.

He rolled along the ground, coming to his feet several yards away. A quick glance at where he'd been standing showed two throwing knives had sunken into the carpet, their polished surface glinting in the moonlight.

He narrowed his eyes. Following the only trajectory those weapons could have possibly taken, he gazed out the window, yet there was nothing there?nothing but white curtains billowing in a gentle breeze.

He walked forward, slowly, cautiously, like a hunter searching for prey, his feet seeming to linger for several seconds before moving again. While his eyes could not see anybody, his instincts were telling him that someone had entered the room. He felt their presence, like a prickle on the back of his neck. His hairs stood on end, and his heartbeat raced as adrenaline pumped through his body.

His green eyes flickering in the pale moonlight, Caspian surveyed the interior, his gaze sharp as they cut through the night. Where were they hiding? Not to the right, nor to the left. They were not behind him or in front of him. No matter how many degrees he turned, there was no one there. So, then, where could they have...

... His eyes widened.

Above!

Caspian rolled along the ground just in time to avoid getting impaled by another pair of throwing knives. Upon kipping back up to his feet, he looked up to see someone hanging there, suspended on the ceiling as if they were defying gravity. Their hands were spread out like a cross, and strange handholds made from what appeared to be some type of plant kept them from falling to the floor.

Is that... Nature Magic?

His internal question would go unanswered. Now that they had been spotted, the figure launched themselves at him like a predator pouncing on its prey. Caspian moved to avoid being impaled by two sharp and pointy objects, leaping backwards several times to put some distance between him and his assailant. The person who attacked him struck the space that he'd been standing on, the daggers in their hands sinking into the soft carpet.

Standing on all fours, his attacker crouched low like a feline predator found in the Purante jungle. He could make out little about them, except that they were covered from head to toe in a skintight black bodysuit, and that they were clearly female.

"Who are you?"

He received no answer. His unknown assailant dashed forward, shocking him with her speed. Caspian barely had time to pull his sword from his sheath before she was upon him, launching a series of viciously fast attacks. Her daggers came in, striking at him from several angles, seeking to penetrate his guard. Even though each attack was blocked, Caspian still winced as sparks flew from their clash.

She's so fast!

Gritting his teeth in concentration, Caspian shifted his blade, constantly changing its angle rather than swinging the sword around. Doing so allowed him to fend off the next series of slashes and stabs sent his way?for the most part. A few close calls cut into his pants, and blood flew from small wounds that appeared along his torso. Focusing all of his attention on dodging, Caspian angled his body away from this woman's strikes, avoiding the majority of her attacks by the barest of margins.

Soon, Caspian found his back pressed against the wall, and the assassin was still coming at him. She thrust the dagger in her left hand. It would pierce him in the center of his chest if he did not do something quickly.

Fortunately, Caspian had always been a quick thinker.

Shifting from a two-handed grip to a one-handed grip, Caspian struck at the woman's forearm with his left hand. The dagger went wide, and Caspian ducked into a low crouch at the same moment. There was a loud clang! as the small blade struck the wall, followed by a spray of sparks raining down on his head as steel ground against sediment.

Changing back to a two-handed grip, Caspian leapt to his feet, swinging his sword in a powerful arc that caused the air to whistle. The attack was dodged, with the woman backpedaling to avoid being sliced in twain. It wasn't exactly what he'd been hoping for, but at least it had gotten her to back off.

Not wanting to give this assassin any time to counterattack, Caspian dashed forward. His sword flashed out with lightning quickness, but each attack was dodged when the female swayed from side to side, dancing around his swings with ease.

Rather than become deterred by his inability to land a strike on this woman, he attacked again, using the momentum from his previous swing to make a full rotation and come in twice as fast as before. This time the woman dodged by rolling along the carpeted floor. She leapt back on to her feet a second later, spun around, and threw something at him.

Bringing his sword up, Caspian swung at the projectile, knocking whatever it was away. As the object, another throwing knife, fell to the floor with a soft thud, Caspian closed the distance between him and his foe once more.

Again and again the two traded blows. It was clear from the onset that the female, using smaller weapons, was much faster than Caspian. She was also using two weapons, increasing not only the amount of attacks that she could unleash upon him, but also giving her an additional set of angles with which to launch each strike. More than that, it was difficult for Caspian to keep track of both weapons at the same time. Several times he almost found himself impaled through the eye, or had his throat slit open, when one of the small blades got too close for comfort.

Sweat fell from Caspian's forehead as the battle continued to rage, dripping down his brow and stinging his eyes. Yet he dared not close them, for he knew that closing them even for a single second could cause his death.

The assassin's blade sought to penetrate his heart. Caspian rotated his body and angled his sword. The dagger glanced off his blade, sliding along the surface. He tried to launch a counterattack, but that met with failure when the woman blocked his sword swing with her other dagger. She then spun around, a full rotation, and launched a lightning quick strike that he barely avoided by leaning his head back.

Things were getting out of hand. This woman was clearly better than him. Caspian could feel himself constantly losing ground. Each strike came that much closer to hitting its mark. She was learning his attack patterns and habits at an unimaginable pace. The battle hadn't even been going on for five minutes, and she already seemed capable of predicting his every move before he even made them!

This battle would surely end in his death if he didn't think of something soon.

The flash of a dagger going for his throat warned Caspian of impending danger. He leaned back, allowing the weapon to sail through the air where his neck had been previously. Rather than adjust his position and come back up, he let himself fall backwards. He tucked his body into a roll, putting several feet of distance between himself and the assassin. When he leapt back to his feet, it was to see that he was standing right next to the sitting table.

Thinking quickly, he grabbed the nearest chair by the back, twirled around, and chucked it at the assassin. The woman dodged, lowering herself to the floor and bending her knees until her back grazed against the carpet. She slid across the carpet on her knees, only coming back up after the chair had flown past her.

Unfortunately for her, it seemed she hadn't counted on Caspian grabbing the table next. While he could not throw the table due to its weight, he did push it onto the floor in front of her. When she came up from her crouch and lunged at him, her legs knocked against the table, causing her to fall.

This was the opening that he'd been waiting for. With a roar, Caspian leapt into the air and brought his blade down in an overhead slash. The attack missed, but only because the woman rolled out of the way. The table was not as fortunate, being an inanimate object, and the sword struck glass. As the expensive piece of furniture shattered into a million pieces, the assassin back-flipped several times, landing on her feet when she was at least a yard away from him.

Despite not landing a killing blow, Caspian's confidence began to soar. He could beat this woman. He was positive of that now.

"I hope that's not all the fight you have in you," Caspian tried to see if he could mess with this woman's mind. Banter always unsettled the nobles he fought. "If it is, then you might as well give up now."

The assassin said nothing.

Caspian clicked his tongue. "Not going to talk. Fine, then."

Knowing better than to give his enemy the initiative, he attacked with renewed zeal, his blade striking out in swift patterns and combinations in conjunction with his use of the environment to trip the assassin up.

The light from the moon reflected off his blade and those of the assassin's as they traded strikes in a deadly dance. Caspian did not stick with using just his sword, however. He used the environment as well. Any object within reach was used: the drawers from the dresser, pieces of the canopy from the bed?he even managed to trip her up by tangling her legs within the bedsheets. Still, even with this advantage, he couldn't land a killing blow. The assassin was just that good.

As his last attack missed, his assailant lashed out with the dagger in her left hand. It was an overhand slash, one that Caspian blocked by bringing his blade up to absorb the strike. As sparks flew from steel clashing against steel, the dagger in her right hand was thrust forward. Caspian, knowing that he wouldn't be able to block in time, took a single step back. The weapon passed through the space where he'd been standing, missing him by a hair-breadth.

This time Caspian took a single step forward and thrust his blade out in a lunge. The attack missed, the woman weaving around the weapon by ducking and moving under it. She came up on the other side and tried to shove the dagger in her left hand into Caspian's right eye. It was dodged when he tilted his head, but only just. Caspian could almost feel the blade as it sliced through some of his hair.

As they moved past each other, trading places, Caspian spun around and got ready to attack again. He shifted back to a one-handed grip and lifted his sword before swinging it with all his might, a ferocious shout tearing from his throat. The attack was blocked this time, not dodged, by the woman crossing her blades above her head. As the blow was intercepted, Caspian received the shock of his life, literally, when the two small daggers lit up like festival fireworks.

Arcs of pale blue electricity skittered along the small blades. The arcane energies flowed swiftly up his own blade, moving along the polished surface all the way to the hilt. Caspian yelped and let go of his sword when who-knows how many volts of electrical energy zapped him. Smoke poured off his hands, which had blackened slightly from the electrical damage. In spite of the pain, he didn't dare take his eyes off his opponent.

The black-clad assassin came at him fast and hard. Caspian was forced to move quicker than he ever had before to avoid being impaled. He fell back on what he remembered from his hand-to-hand lessons when he was a first year.

Before earning the right to wield a weapon, all students of Arcadia's Knight Academy were taught the basics of fighting bare-handed. Caspian was no different in that regard.

He struck out with his left fist, striking his enemy's left arm and making the limb go wide. He took two steps forward and tried to close the distance, so he could unleash a devastating blow to the woman's face. The attack was doomed to failure when she leaned to the left, dodging the jab, while at the same time swinging her right hand inwards, the dagger she wielded set to stab him through the temple.

Caspian raised his right arm, his forearm striking the woman's bicep and forcing the attack to stop. He then shifted his body, grabbing the offending arm while spinning about. Using her arm as a fulcrum, Caspian lifted the woman up and tossed her through the air. Her coarse-looking hair whipping about her head, the unknown assassin flipped about with acrobatic grace. She landed on her hands and feet several yards away, unharmed.

Caspian dashed forward and reclaimed his lost sword, pulling it from the floor and advancing on the woman. He attacked more cautiously than before. Now that he was aware of what he was dealing with, an elf able to use Nature Magic, he understood that caution would be the better part of valor.

Nature Magic was the ability to channel the powers of nature, manipulating the natural world around them for a specific purpose. While most people assumed this simply meant controlling living things, like plants, that was not wholly true. A talented user of Nature Magic could, in the right circumstances, control the very elements themselves. While it couldn't compete with Spiritual Evocation in terms of power, it was a lot more versatile, especially for single combat. It could also be used as an energy source to fuel other types of eleven magic, such as animating the inanimate?like those golems that he and Erica had fought a few weeks ago.

She's using the conductivity of the metal to generate electricity?

Electricity was a natural part of the world, and because it was a part of nature, that meant a master of Nature Magic could control it, theoretically speaking. He'd never heard of an elf who was that skilled at Nature Magic, though.

No, that can't be right. The hilts of her daggers are made of wood.

More lightning skittered along her blades. Caspian moved quickly, avoiding her strikes, which sliced through the wall with ease.

Something is wrong here.

Even if she was talented at Nature Magic, there should have still been a limit to her power. Generating electricity using Nature Magic shouldn't have been this easy. There had to be a gimmick of some kind. Something had to be helping her generate that power.

Caspian focused on her blades as he dodged her attacks. They flashed and sparked as they moved, silver blurs that left arcs of blue energy in their wake. Yet even so, he could see the golden grain partially hidden by her grasping fingers.

Those handles... are they made of vitae?

Vitae was a type of wood found in the deepest forested regions. Legends spoke of great trees that were found in the heart of every forest. It was said that if you were to cut a piece of this tree off, the piece would still be connected to the tree. It would still be alive. According to historical records, high-ranking elves were allowed to craft items from these trees, which greatly enhanced their magical abilities.

Wood wasn't a good conductor of electricity, however, if the wood was still alive, then channeling magic through it would be as easy as breathing. If the hilts of those daggers really were made of vitae, then it was no wonder she could create electricity with them.

She's using living wood as a medium for her magic. Okay, I think I understand now.

Understanding how an enemy did something was the key to defeating it. This time, when Caspian attacked the assassin, he was ready.

The tell-tale sign of sparks dancing along her blades precluded an attack of an electric nature. It was avoided when, rather than simply allowing his blade to strike one of the daggers, he shifted the horizontal swing into a diagonal swing. He still ended up nicking the dagger, but only received a small jolt that he ignored. There was also the added benefit of the small bladed weapon being knocked away, granting him a chance to potentially inflict some wounds upon his tricky enemy.

So focused was he on landing a vicious blow to his enemy, that he didn't notice something slither along the carpet until it had wrapped around his legs. His eyes widening, Caspian looked down to see wood wound so tightly around his left calf that all of the circulation had been cut off. The act of looking down also proved to be a grave mistake, because when he looked back up, the dagger in his enemy's gloved hand was bearing down on him, crackling with arcs of lightning.

In an act of desperation, Caspian let go of his sword and grabbed the woman's wrist just as the blade was about to penetrate his skull. Upon seeing her attack halted, the female assassin swung her other dagger at him. It, too, was caught, though a thin line of blood was drawn from where her blade bit into his chest. The wound cauterized itself however, as the electrical damage also served to burn his flesh closed.

What followed was a struggle for dominance between them. His assailant was set on seeing that her sharp weapons carved into his flesh. Meanwhile, Caspian tried everything possible to keep them from piercing his body.

Sparks of electricity leapt from the blade, jolting him. He bit his tongue in an effort to keep from crying out. It felt like needles were piercing his skin.

Da-damn it...

Caspian knew that he needed to think of a way out of this mess, but it was hard. The pain from electricity overrode his ability to process information. His mind was becoming scrambled. Thinking had become impossible. Even his arms were beginning to spasm as the electricity being pumped into his body messed with his nerves.

The wooden tentacle around his calf was crawling up his leg, grazing against his skin and leaving splinters in its wake, compounding onto his problems. It soon wrapped around his torso, slithering over his bare skin like a python.

It was just as the wooden tentacle wound its way around his arm that a miracle happened.

A loud clang! resounded throughout the room. It was eerily reminiscent of cookware, or something metallic, smacking against something distinctly fleshy.

The assassin's glowing eyes widened in shock and pain?right before her body went limp, and she slumped forward, unconscious, into a surprised Caspian's chest.