The rising sun is staining Treva River with gold as the Libitania strode onto a rickety dock in the slums. Fishermen are heading out for the day, revelers are stumbling in for the night, and Riften is still asleep – unaware of what had happened the night before.

The thief pulls out a lovely blade, its ebony pommel glinting in the fight light of dawn. For a long moment, she stares at the sword, thinking of all that it had once embodied.

But there is a new sword at her side – an ancient queen's blade, from a time when good men and women had served noble rulers and the world has prospered for it.

She will no longer be this world's darkness, even if it means the end of her. Even if she has no name now, no position or title save for Oath-Breaker, Traitor, Liar.

No one notices when the sword is jettisoned over the river, its pommel catching the sun and burning like violet fire, a flash of light before it is swallowed by the dark water, never to be seen again.

~End of Book One~