The Knighting of Myra Manes

All eyes bore into the young girl that remained kneeled in front of the King. She was stoic and completely immune to the whispers that shot around her; spreading like wildfire. She was one step closer to attaining her ultimate goal and she did not care what others had to say about it. This was her destiny, not theirs.

This was her mission.

This was her life.

"Myra Manes," the eloquent king roared before a majestic crowd. "You've shown bravery that is unparalleled. You've helped vanquish the brigands and highwaymen that threatened to vanquish our beloved city. You've excelled in your training and, after seeking council with your teachers, I find it fit to bequeath you the highest title in our nation: Ace Mercenary."

Myra's blue eyes didn't so much as blink as she was knighted before her city. Her life's mission was what drove her to do the things that she did. Myra did, in fact, battle seven men head-on alone for quite some time before the city was able to gather backup and intercept the hundreds of other men that were aiming to attack the city from behind. But, Myra didn't do any of that because she loved the city.

No.

The city was her home, yes.

The city was the central hub for all commercial activity, yes.

The city was the most prosperous metropolis anybody had ever seen, yes.

But she didn't do any of that for her city.

Myra was bowing on her knees in front of the king as he gently tapped his sceptre on her shoulders before placing a rather heavy medallion around her neck. Myra's eyes bore into the ground as her mind reeled into a world that was not the present…

To a time where she was seven years old and stood by the sidelines in the vary chamber she was in right now, watching her beloved father bow in front of the present king's father…

Watching her father receive the same honour she was; clapping for joy when Artemis Manes acquired the title of Ace Mercenary.

Myra was born into a large family of mercenaries. She was trained in ways of fighting that people thought were unfathomable; she learned the ways of the ninja, the modest ways of Buddha, the tranquility of Zen, and the mercilessness of the mercenary. She was an all-around killing machine.

Everybody in her family was.

They were until one night…

Myra blinked and returned to reality. The king placed the Ace Mercenary medallion around her neck and ushered her to stand up. Without emotion or feeling, eyes cold and distant, Myra stood and stared right into the eyes of the king.

The murderer who killed her family.

His motive was unknown—all Myra remembered was that she was hiding in the cellar with her younger brother when the king and his army marched into their home. Their mother had pushed them in there earlier that night and told them not to come out, regardless of what they heard.

Myra peeked out of the cellar at one point and would never forget the sight she saw.

The king, the same man knighting her as Ace Mercenary, beheading her beloved father.

What for what?!

Myra never found out.

Her poor brother went missing the same year and Myra never found out if he was dead or alive. She was alone, scrapping by, until she was enlisted into the king's special army of mercenaries. Within a heartbeat, Myra joined.

Not because she wanted to protect the metropolis that flourished like the ancient Roman Empire.

No.

Because she was out to seek revenge.

And the only way of doing so was to get exceptionally close with the king…

With the murdering little bastard.

"I hope that you will not fail me, Myra." The king smiled. Though his eyes were soft and twinkling, Myra knew that behind the falsity was sinister evil.

"I will not, my king." Myra whispered, her true words locked in the bowels of her heart. As the king turned to the audience with Myra, she could think of one thing and one thing only…

Before the sun sets tonight, king, your blood will spill at my hands.