Lately, whenever the moon began to rise, Ashbal would hear his mother’s voice echo within his mind.
“Ashbal, you possess a special power—a power that can cast this kingdom of gold into turmoil.”
It was a memory from when he was still very young. They lived in the cluttered backstreets at the city’s edge, and his mother would grip his small shoulders tightly and repeat those words again and again.
She’d told him, “With your unique magic, you will accomplish your purpose, the reason I gave birth to you. Do you understand?”
Her eyes, a different color from his, gazed deeply into his own, which bore the same hue as his father’s, the man he’d never known.
“You will destroy the Golden Falcon, the cursed relic of this land,” she reiterated.
The name of that relic had been imprinted upon his memory for as long as he could remember.
“Destroy the Golden Falcon. No matter what happens, you must destroy it! It drove my father, my brothers, and my beloved homeland to ruin!”
Then, over and over again, she would repeat, “You were born for this.”
And, indeed, she had prepared him thoroughly for the task. She had trained him in magic, combat, and first aid, as well as matters of statecraft, something he didn’t understand the reason for at the time.
He remembered the times that she would speak to him frantically with bloodshot eyes.
“If something goes wrong, flee to the harem. Intimidate the women there if necessary. Use their lives as a shield to buy time. You alone can pass through my barrier and infiltrate it.”
Other times she would be calmer.
“I wrote a letter to your father. I hinted at your existence. When that man dies, they will come for you...and that will be your chance.”
At the time, he had no idea what she meant by “They will come for you.”
Eventually, she succumbed to an illness that had swept through the city. Left to fend for himself, Ashbal had joined a band of thieves, learning to steal and survive. Yet he had never forgotten her words: “Destroy the Golden Falcon.”
It was his reason for being, after all. And it became his mission.
Yet, he had failed. He had failed to even reach the Golden Falcon, and he’d needed to retreat to the harem as he’d been told.
Years later, by a twist of fate, Ashbal came to possess the Golden Falcon in a way he had never anticipated.
When his father, the king, passed away, the search for his rightful heir had begun. The letter his mother had written had served its purpose. The ministers scoured the land, eventually finding Ashbal.
It was truly a shock, Ashbal thought now. He was in his fox form, walking across the rooftops of Naila’s palace. I, who was born to destroy the Golden Falcon, became king. Everything went according to my mother’s plan.
Once crowned, Ashbal’s first act was to take into his possession the Golden Falcon, the object of his mother’s hatred. The accursed relic that had caused countless wars in surrounding kingdoms and spilled rivers of blood.
Yet his loyal retainer Faraz had once told him, “Had your father not possessed the Golden Falcon, many more would have died.”
Ashbal landed soundlessly in Naila’s garden on his four fox legs; his padded feet made no noise, unlike a human’s. He knew Naila and her maids would be in a deep slumber. He had cast magic on them after all.
I must end this as quickly as possible.
He raised his head toward the sky. The full moon hung above him.
He could not allow Naila to see him here. He moved carefully, slipping through the garden’s shadows until he reached the storage shed. Years spent in Naila’s company meant that he knew where she kept her things.
Found it.
Standing against the wall was the golden bow, its string removed for safekeeping. Beside it lay matching golden arrows. He had gifted them to Naila long ago; she had put the arrows away safely, afraid she might lose them.
There’s no point in reminiscing now.
Gripping the bow and arrow between his teeth, Ashbal broke into a run. He passed through the harem’s barriers, his paws silent as he slipped past the conjurers who stood guard.
His destination was the watchtower, a place forbidden to all but the king himself.
The statue of the goddess from his mother’s homeland awaited him there. He shook himself before shifting back to his human form, clad in a hooded robe meant to keep sand away from his face.
He reached for the familiar golden bow and arrow that he had created years ago.
“Well, then,” he murmured.
He was confident in the archery skills he’d learned from his mother. Whether his certainty was a blessing or a curse, he no longer cared.
As he nocked the golden arrow, he apologized to the man he had caught up in this.
“Sorry, Noah. I didn’t mean to drag you into this mess.”
He watched the palace in the distance. It remained calm, showing no signs of trouble. Noah had managed his role as the king’s stand-in flawlessly, just as Ashbal had thought he would. With Faraz supporting him, Ashbal was sure everything would continue smoothly.
Now, I can finally end this.
A fleeting smile crossed his lips. He raised the bow and drew the string taut. As the weight of the bow pressed into his palm, he chuckled ruefully.
This isn’t the sort of thing you give to a girl as a gift.
He loosed the bow, aiming at the full moon that loomed above him.
Now, strike true.