Chapter 2 – The Shadow and the Bow
Night had descended upon Topkapı Palace like a heavy shroud. Even the breeze from the Bosphorus had quieted, and the stars above seemed to have closed their eyes. As moonlight spilled gently over the stone corridors and courtyards, Sultan Murad IV sat alone in his inner chamber. His eyes lingered on the gleam of his sword, his thoughts locked on the campaign to come.
But behind the sealed doors, in the very heart of the palace, a darker presence moved silently.
No footsteps.
No breathing.
Only a shadow advancing… bearing a poisoned dagger… with a single target: the Sultan who carried the blood of the Wolfbourne.
Just a few steps remained between the assassin and his prey—
And then, something shifted.
Time paused.
A strange tension filled the air—not ordinary fear, but something deeper. The moisture in the air trembled as if charged with static.
Then, piercing the silence, came a sharp, whistling note.
An arrow.
The assassin's chest burst open. His eyes widened with terror and disbelief as he collapsed silently to the stone floor. Blood pooled in the moonlight.
From the corridor's shadows, a tall figure emerged. Cloaked in black, bow still drawn.
Cafer.
But this was no ordinary bow.
It was Tomris's Bow—a relic passed down through the bloodline of the warrior queen Tomris. It was only drawn when death was an absolute necessity.
Carved from dark walnut, its limbs shaped in the likeness of wolf and eagle, it bore a glowing ancient mark visible only under nightlight.
Each time it was drawn, a vow was spoken with silence:
"This arrow ends only the one who deserves it."
Cafer knelt beside the corpse.
He closed the man's eyes with a touch.
Then turned toward the Sultan's door. Without opening it, he called out:
"The danger has passed, my Sultan."
Sultan Murad turned his gaze from his sword to Cafer.
"Who was it?" he asked.
"I do not know yet. But this is only the beginning," Cafer replied. "Someone is watching us. From within."
The Sultan nodded slowly. Fatih's sword glimmered faintly beside him. The shadows had retreated, but the scent of treachery still lingered in the walls.
Cafer pulled back the assassin's cloak and searched the inside pocket. He found a scroll sealed with red wax—unmarked. Unofficial.
He opened it. Inside was a symbol: a circular mark etched with cuneiform-like lines, and in the center—
A serpent, biting its own tail.
Cafer handed the scroll to the Sultan.
Murad stared at the symbol, then muttered under his breath:
"Could it be Leonardo?"
Cafer shook his head.
"No, my Sultan. This man takes orders—he does not give them. Leonardo would never entrust something like this to a pawn. This man doesn't operate on that level."
The Sultan exhaled deeply, scanning the shadows again as if trying to see through the walls.
"So the enemy is not only outside. Treachery may live within Istanbul itself… perhaps even inside this palace."
He paused. Then strapped his sword back to his waist.
His voice was low, but resolute:
"The attack won't come from armies alone. Spies, traitors, those among us… we cannot set out until their roots are torn out."
He looked directly at Cafer.
"You were born of the night. You walk with shadows. This task is yours."
Cafer didn't look away.
"By your command, my Sultan."
"Whoever betrays us—you will see them first. You'll move like shadow, strike like death.
Before we take a single step forward, we'll lift every stone in this city."
Cafer bowed.
Then, like smoke, he vanished into the darkness.
The Sultan remained alone, still holding the symbol.
The serpent continued to devour its own tail.