"Phantom Rebirth: The Last White Raven’s Path to the Ultimate Assassin"

Seraphis sat on her bed, the obsidian box resting on her lap. The air in her room was still, save for the faint flicker of candlelight casting shadows on the walls.

She traced her fingers along the silver runes etched into the surface. The magic had faded since she stole it, but the feeling of something watching her still lingered.

Alright, let’s see what’s so important.

She popped the lid open.

Inside, instead of a jewel, artifact, or cursed object, there was only a folded letter made of dark parchment.

Seraphis narrowed her eyes. A letter?

She pulled it out and unfolded it.

The words were written in an elegant but jagged script, as if the writer had been both careful and furious at the same time.

To the fool who dared steal from me,

You have made the gravest mistake of your life. You have no idea who you are dealing with, but rest assured, I know exactly who you are. Seraphis.

I am watching.

I will find you.

And when I do, I will make you regret ever setting foot in my domain.

Enjoy your final days.

There was no signature, no symbol, just an empty threat written in pretty handwriting.

Seraphis stared at the letter for a moment.

Then—

She burst out laughing.

At first, it was just a chuckle, but then it grew into uncontrollable laughter, her entire body shaking as she collapsed onto the floor.

She rolled onto her back, kicking her feet, holding her stomach as the sound of her laughter echoed through the guild.

Garrick’s Confusion

The guild master’s office door slammed open.

Garrick stood in the doorway, half-dressed, looking like he had just been woken from the deepest sleep of his life.

"What the hell is going on?" he demanded.

Seraphis was still on the floor, tears in her eyes, gasping for breath between fits of laughter. She held up the letter, waving it in the air like a trophy.

"It’s—hah—it’s a threat letter!" she wheezed. "Someone actually wrote me a threat letter!"

Garrick scowled, stepping forward and snatching the parchment from her hand. He skimmed through it, his expression darkening.

"This isn’t funny," he said.

Seraphis cackled louder.

"Oh, but it is!" she grinned. "I mean, come on—‘Enjoy your final days’? Who writes this stuff? What, are they trying to sound like a storybook villain?"

Garrick sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose.

"You are the only person I know who finds a death threat funny."

She sat up, wiping a tear from the corner of her eye. "Well, what can I say? It’s my first one. Feels like a milestone."

Garrick shook his head. "You’re insane."

"Debatable."

He tossed the letter back at her. "You should be taking this seriously. Whoever sent this knows your name."

Seraphis smirked, rolling the parchment up.

"Yeah. And now I’m gonna find out who they are."

The Hunt Begins

She left the guild, stepping into the cold night air.

The city was quiet, save for the occasional drunken voices in the distance. The moon hung low, casting long shadows across the cobbled streets.

Seraphis turned into an alleyway, making sure no one was watching.

Then—

Her body began to shift.

Her form shrank, her arms twisted into wings, her skin was replaced with soft white feathers. Within seconds, she was no longer human—

She was a white raven.

With a powerful flap of her wings, she launched into the air, soaring above the rooftops.

Tracking the Sender

Her first stop was the Duskveil black market.

She perched on a wooden beam, listening in on the murmured conversations of smugglers, spies, and criminals below.

She heard whispers of a noble family in distress, rumors about a fire at Lord Venaris’s estate, and some idiot bragging about pickpocketing an entire cheese wheel.

But nothing about the Silver Mask.

She took flight again, moving through the city like a ghostly shadow in the moonlight.

Her next stop was the courier's guild.

She landed near an open window, her sharp eyes scanning the stacks of letters waiting to be delivered.

That’s when she saw it.

A black envelope, identical to the one she had received, waiting to be picked up.

Bingo.

She waited.

Minutes passed. Then, finally—

A figure in a dark cloak entered the room, moving toward the desk.

Seraphis watched as the figure picked up the letter, examined it, then tucked it into their coat.

They turned to leave.

Seraphis took off from her perch, following them from above.

The Shadow’s Path

The cloaked figure moved swiftly through the city, avoiding main roads, sticking to side streets and dark alleys.

They clearly knew how to stay hidden.

Seraphis kept her distance, following from the rooftops, her white wings silent against the night sky.

Finally, the figure reached their destination.

A hidden passage beneath an old, abandoned chapel.

They knocked twice, and the door creaked open.

Seraphis perched on a nearby ledge, watching as they slipped inside.

She narrowed her bird-like eyes.

So, this is where the fun begins…

With a final glance at the hidden door, she spread her wings and flew back toward the guild.

She had work to do.