Morning sunlight spilled across the room in slanted beams, dust drifts lazily through the air. Outside you can hear the distant chatter of traders yelling across stalls, traders from different regions and different dialects echo through the streets. Whispers of Shoven patrols from residents, possible resistance unfolding within Kaldrin's crossing. Samantha lay on her bed, wide awake, her mind tangled in the chaos of yesterday, the visions, the whispers of the Shoven, the strange power humming inside her veins.

  The smell of desert fire tea shipped in from Slaten drifts up the stairs, the homely sign that her mum is awake. The sounds of her mum completing her morning routine, cooking breakfast, making drinks.

  In her hand, she held the small green amulet with twisting white, twisting it between her fingers. Its soft glow pulsed with her heartbeat. The metal was warm, worn smooth as if it had passed through many hands long before hers. She couldn’t shake the feeling that it was alive, watching, waiting.

  Samantha hears voices from down stairs, with the voices she can hear loud thudding foot steps marching down the street, she lies panicking that the Shoven had come for her, is this it, is this the end of her adventure.

  The door creaked open.

  “Samantha, you’re already awake?” her mother, Hannah, asked, surprised to find her daughter sitting upright.

  “Yeah,” Samantha said, rubbing her eyes. “Couldn’t sleep.”

  Hannah smiled faintly, though there was worry behind her eyes. “There’s a young boy at the door. Says he goes to your school, Korl, I think?”

  Samantha shot upright, her pulse racing. “Korla? What does he want?” She leaps off the bed, with a tone of excitement that someone would come and see her.

  “I didn’t ask. He sounded… urgent.”

  Samantha grabbed a handful of clothes and threw them on, her movements quick and frantic. She looked in the mirror and adjusted her top slightly, brushing the hair out of her face. She raced down the stairs, skipping the last few steps and landing hard on the floorboards. Pausing only to steady her breath, she flung open the front door.

  Korla stood there, breathless, his hair dishevelled, panic written all over his face. He glanced past her shoulder into the house, as if checking who might be listening.

  “Thank the gods you’re okay,” he said, gripping her shoulders. “You have to get out of here, now. There’s no time to explain!” He grabs at her wrist and pulls her out of the house.

  “What? Where am I even supposed to go?” she asked, releasing her arm from his grip, confusion twisting her words.

  “The Shoven guards are coming. They’re searching every house. They’re looking for you.” His voice cracked with urgency. “The Royal Guards are on their way to extract you, but we have to move now!”

  Samantha laughed nervously, trying to dismiss the growing dread. “It’s my birthday, Korla. I’m not going anywhere until I’ve had breakfast.” Humour had always been her shield when fear got too close.

  Korla’s eyes hardened. “Samantha, the Shoven are coming, and they are coming for you.”

  Before she could argue, Hannah appeared in the hallway, clutching a small, golden-wrapped package to her chest. Her expression was calm. too calm. It was the same calm Samantha remembered from nights when Hannah thought she was asleep.

  “Samantha,” she said softly, “you have to go. I could only protect you for so long we moved to Kaldrin's crossing to keep you safe, but the Shoven wormed their ways into the town.” Hannah says with a wide smile on her face, almost over compensating for the pain of saying good bye. “Take this, it’s your birthday present. Everything you need to know is in the book inside.”

  “Mum, what’s going on?” Samantha asked, panic rising in her throat.

  Hannah forced a smile, her voice trembling. “Go. Please. You’ll understand soon.”

  Samantha hesitated, but then her mother pulled her into a fierce hug, she felt the finality in it. She didn’t want to let go, but Korla tugged at her arm, pulling her toward the waiting car with blacked-out windows.

  The door slammed shut behind her, muffling her mother’s voice.

  The car sped off through the narrow streets, its engine humming like a beast beneath the metal shell. Korla sat beside her, his fists clenched. Humming of crafts wailed somewhere behind them, fading only when Korla cursed under his breath.

  “You’re safe now,” he said, though his voice betrayed doubt. “We’ll get you to the Royal Guards. They’ll take you somewhere the Shoven can’t reach.”

  Samantha leaned back against the seat and closed her eyes, but the world didn’t fade, it warped.

  If you spot this story on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.

  A vision seized her, feeling a tug at her arm. Pain lanced behind her eyes, sharp enough to make her gasp. She saw her house, the kitchen bathed in eerie green light. A woman in a hooded cloak stepped through the shadows, sword drawn. Hannah screamed, then silence. The blade slid through her chest, pinning her to the wall.

  Samantha jerked awake with a scream. “We have to go back! They’re going to kill my mother!”

  Korla turned, alarmed. “What are you talking about?”

  “Turn around!” she shouted, her voice breaking. “Now!”

  “Chambers!” Korla barked at the driver. “Turn us around, fast!”

  “Yes, sir!”

  Samantha realised Korla wasn’t just a student anymore, if he ever had been.

  The car screeched as it spun mid-road, the wheels lifting slightly from the ground before the craft’s hover engines roared to life. Hot air blasted through nearby streets, market stalls feeling the heat, from the Kirum resistors used to help the hover cars float. In the distance a bell rings out through out the city, the unmistakable note of the Shoven searching after an attack.

  Samantha gripped the gold-wrapped package, her knuckles white. She tore the fabric open, revealing a sleek mahogany case. Inside lay two pistols, pristine white with gold runes etched into the barrels. They pulsed faintly, one shimmering with warmth, the other rimed with cold. They felt balanced in her hands, as if they had been waiting for her grip.

  Korla stared, awestruck. “By the gods… The Pistols of Divinity. They were forged from Shoven tech, fused with elemental power. One fire. One ice.”

  Samantha ran her fingers along the markings. She feels the resonance pulsing within, she gently places her fingers on the pistol, as she does she feels the power swell. A mix of ancient and Shoven technology all encased in these beautiful hand held pistols, with soft glue glows coming out of it. “They’re beautiful.”

  “They’re deadly,” Korla said. “And they’re yours. They’re the only weapons strong enough to kill them.”

  When they arrived, the front door to her house hung open, swinging in the wind.

  Samantha didn’t wait. She burst through the doorway, guns drawn, and froze. The familiar smell of bread and desert fire tea gone, the air now smelled of scorched metal and something bitter that burned her throat.

  Her mother was there, pinned against the wall by a blade of blackened steel. Her lifeless eyes stared into nothing. Samantha drops her guns with a clatter and runs up to the body. She grabs the hilt of the sword and pulls it out of the wall and watches her mothers dead weight body fall to the floor, she holds her in her arms, tears streaking down her face.

  “I… I couldn’t save her,” she whispered. “I was too late.” She understood then that seeing a moment did not mean owning it. This time no head ache struck her, no pain behind the eyes, just an empty hollow feeling.

  Korla knelt beside her, his expression pained. “You can’t always change what’s meant to be,” he said softly. “Some things have to happen, to push us forward. But we have to go, now, before they come back.” His words sounded rehearsed, like something he’d been taught long before today.

  “Can I not have a moment?” Samantha shouts at her tears down her face, leaving streaks on her now grubby face.

  She turned back to her mother one last time.

  “Please Samantha, we need to leave.” Korla says looking over her shoulder. “They will come back, we don't know what she told them.”

  Samantha forced herself to stand. With trembling fingers, she picked up the pistols, tucking them into her belt.

  They left the house in silence. She straightened, grief hardening into resolve, and turned away before it could break her again.

  The ride to the extraction point felt endless. Neither of them spoke. The hum of the engine filled the air, the weight of loss pressing down like a storm cloud.

  When they stopped, the Royal Guard ship was waiting, a sleek white craft trimmed in gold, its engines glowing softly. A man in heavy armour stood beside it, his presence commanding. He removed his helmet, revealing kind eyes beneath the scars.

  “Miss Samantha Remnant, I presume?” he said. His gaze lingered on her amulet, and his posture shifted to one of respect.

  Samantha nodded, her voice barely a whisper. “Yeah… The Chosen Timekeeper. That’s me.”

  “Everything ok?” the guard said gently. “

  “It's my mother, she, she's gone.” Samantha feels almost hollow, she doesn't know what to say what to do. “It was my fault, I couldn't get to her in time, if only I could have been there sooner, it would have been fine.”

  “I am sorry, there is nothing I can say to make this better, unfortunately being The Chosen means balance, sometimes, this is just destiny.” The Royal guard tries to help her through the pain.

  “If this is the curse of being The Chosen, then I don't want it.” She sighs looking to the floor.

  “But what you are about to do, the mission you’re joining, will make sure no one else suffers that fate. The gods chose you for a reason.”

  Samantha swallowed hard, her throat dry. She nodded once.

  Turning to Korla, she forced a weak smile. “Thank you, for helping me. For saving me. No one’s ever done something like that for me before.”

  Korla’s face softened. “It wasn’t about duty. I just… I couldn’t stand the thought of losing you. You’re special, Samantha.”

  He hesitated, then reached into the car and pulled out a white leather gun belt, embroidered with gold. He handed it to her.

  “It was my father’s,” he said quietly. “Before the Shoven took him.” Giving it to her felt like surrendering the last piece of his old life.

  Samantha fastened it around her waist, the pistols fitting perfectly into the holsters. Then, without thinking, she leaned forward and kissed him softly on the cheek.

  “Goodbye, Korla.”

  “Goodbye, Samantha,” he said, his voice cracking. “I hope we meet again.”

  Samantha stepped onto the craft. The guard placed his helmet back on and followed her inside. The doors sealed with a hiss, and the ship began to rise, stirring up clouds of dust and petals. Somewhere deep inside her, the future shifted, quietly, permanently.

  Korla stood on the ground, watching as the white vessel lifted higher and higher until it vanished into the sky, taking with it the girl who had changed his life forever.

  Thanks for reading!

  Every time someone spends a few minutes in the world of Shahero, it honestly means more than I can properly put into words. Seeing people follow the journey of Tyron, Samantha, Lazarus, Freya, Cid, and Zara makes all the hours of writing worth it.

  If you enjoyed the chapter, feel free to leave a comment or follow the story. I read every comment, and it genuinely helps the story reach more readers here on Royal Road.

  A few people have also asked how they can support the project as I work toward eventually publishing the book. If that’s something you’d like to help with, there’s a support link below that goes toward editing and preparing the story for print.

  No pressure at all though—reading the story is already huge support.

  Question for readers:What moment in this chapter stood out to you the most?

  See you in the next chapter.

  — Matthew Cooke-Sumner