《Starfire: A Dark Star Novel》


 An Ashen World

    I was forged anew in hellfire that night. My soul and my light¡ªburned away in the alchemical explosion.


    <hr>


    Sel crouched among the debris of the dark, wide room, idly drinking from a small flask while Kadran hummed through her hazy mind. She noted the results of a pitched battle: the rough stone walls and floors covered in craters and scorch marks, practically all furniture smashed to splinters, and far more dried blood than a few humans could supply.


    The air reeked of death and something alchemical, acrid and sweet¡ªand entirely unbearable. The scene was fit for a massacre, yet there was only one corpse in the ruined underground hideout. She pulled on her Bond, letting theurgy trickle into her, filling her with a storm of energy that pushed her to act, move, and use her powers.


    The dark room grew marginally brighter as her perception flared from the influx of theurgy, and she was able to make out the corpse.


    Merkin? This has to be a joke, she thought, frowning before taking another swig of spirits from her flask.


    It¡¯s unsettling, Seluna. The leader of the dismantled Starhowl gang, suddenly showing up dead, Kadran hummed, his voice sharp and layered in crystalline and mellifluous tones, clawing its way through her mind.


    Sel didn¡¯t respond or move, purposefully sending a wave of annoyance crashing against the presence in her head. He knew better than that. She took another drink, then capped it and stowed it in her black cloak.


    Sel. Happy? Now can we focus on this? Kadran growled with a huff.


    ¡°Yep. How long has it been since the Starhowl contract?¡± She stood, stretched languidly, then stepped closer to the corpse.


    You need to stop poisoning yourself so much, Sel. You should know that it was a little over ten months ago. Kadran sent a pulse of worry through their Bond, but Sel ignored that and his annoying request.


    ¡°Ten months. During this whole time, not a sound. The guilds, Church, nobles¡­none of them caught wind of his activities either. I wonder what he was up to during that time¡­¡±


    Kadran sighed insufferably and said, I¡¯m sure we¡¯ll find out. The more pressing question is why resurface now?


    ¡°And who killed him?¡± She circled the mangled corpse, unable to distinguish many of the wounds from each other.


    There¡¯s a lingering wrongness here¡­I feel as if we should make ourselves scarce soon, Kadran hummed distantly.


    We¡¯ll leave soon. What monster from the void did this? Where¡¯s his Scaleforged spear? she mused, leaning to take a better look at his face.


    All good questions¡ªwait, what¡¯s that? On his face?


    Sel squinted, blinked, then took out her flask again to pull from it. While his clothes and body were in shreds and tatters, all broken bones and pulpy flesh, his face was untouched. His shoulder-length brown hair, proud and handsome features, and odd square beard remained much as she remembered.


    But across his face was a hand print seared into the pale skin, gray ash mixed into the black cracks of the burn.


    Another Ashen Hand mark¡­ Kadran said slowly.


    ¡°That makes the tenth one in the last two weeks alone. I¡¯m not going to lose any sleep over Merkin dying, but those fools are getting on my nerves.¡± Sel shook her head and moved off to see what she could find in the wreckage around the room.


    And who knows how many since they first started appearing three months ago. I¡¯m curious what their plan is. The marks have been found at noble house and church break-ins, at assassinations of anyone ranging from gang leaders, Church inquisitors and garrison captains to nobles, Imperial Military officers and Alchemical Sovereigns. We¡¯ve even seen it on several of our contracts. Yet after all this time, we haven¡¯t come across their members, or found any hint of their bases or operations.


    Sel only grunted in response as she flipped through a torn and stained book. The words were hard to make out, but it looked like some sort of journal. Merkin had apparently done some traveling to Kret, Sorithia and a few other foreign lands. His most recent trip had been to the Northern Reaches, to other hideouts his allies operated out of. The last entry mentioned some sort of deal with The Reclaimers, whoever they were.


    Movement in the tunnel outside, Sel. Kadran sent a sharp pulse of caution through her mind, cutting through the pleasant haze of inebriation.


    Sel rolled her dark brown eyes, tossed the useless journal to the ground and took a last swig from her flask. Whiskey burned in her throat as she trudged to the door. She paused, drawing her short sword with her right hand and her dagger with her left. They were both made of impossibly strong starsteel, replacements for the daggers she¡¯d lost fighting Sorithians ten months ago.


    Are they right outside the door? Sel asked, tensing.


    I think so? Kadran hummed curiously.


    Sel stepped back, then kicked out at the door. It flew outwards, catching one of the tools waiting for her, sending the cloaked figure stumbling. The other person already had his axe raised, dark eyes wide in surprise.


    She lunged forward, striking before her foe could act. Her narrow sword pierced the man¡¯s right arm, but her dagger sparked off his weapon. Sel drew back as he swung at her head, his pockmarked face twisted in rage.


    She gave a mocking flourish of her sword, flicking blood at the man. He sneered at her, wiping the droplets from his face with a sleeve.


    To your right, Kadran said.


    She leaned back just a fraction, letting the wicked looking spear pass inches from her face. Sel slammed her sword against the shaft, making it swing away from her, causing the first man to jump back with a curse.


    Before they could recover she dove right, under a wild swing, then acquainted the man¡¯s left thigh with her dagger.


    He staggered back as she yanked it free and twisted past him. She delivered a swift kick to his arse, sending him sprawling. The other man charged at her, but she stood still, weapons lowered as she stared him down.This book''s true home is on another platform. Check it out there for the real experience.


    The closer he drew, the more hesitant he appeared. As he brought his axe down in a mighty swing, Sel smiled, barring her teeth at the man.


    She didn¡¯t even need her Bonded powers for this joke of a fight. She abruptly blurred forward, stepping close to the man and delivering a punch to his throat. As he gagged and missed his strike, she kicked his knee, making him drop. Now that he was nearly level with Sel, she drove her dagger up through his chin.


    She had to release the dagger and let the man drop to just barely parry the spear that almost impaled her. Sel danced back, falling into stance, one arm behind her back, sword held straight at the man.


    He advanced with a flurry of thrusts and swings that made movement in the tight tunnel even more difficult. She dodged several, but most she deflected or guided past her, each clash chipping away at the shoddy spearhead.


    The taller fighter knew his way around a spear, but he was little better than a common thug. Assuming the pair were allies of Merkin, they were surprisingly lacking in skill. She twisted away from another thrust, almost without thought.


    Sel sidestepped another strike, noting¡ªwith immense satisfaction¡ªthat the spearhead was rife with cracks and deformities now. She dove under a swing, rolling to the side to slam her sword against the thrusting spear.


    The spearhead shattered and the man cursed. He backed away slowly, likely considering his friend¡¯s axe. In a heartbeat, it was over.


    Sel flickered forward like a wraith, her sword sliding neatly into his eye.


    She pulled her blade free, letting the man crumple. She retrieved her dagger from the other corpse, then wiped both weapons clean on the man¡¯s cloak. Sel stood, sheathed her weapons, then hovered over the corpses for a moment, a distant lantern making shadows play tricks on her eyes.


    She knelt, ignoring the corpse¡¯s sudden rictus grin and eyes that leaked black sludge as she searched pockets and pouches. Finding nothing but a few silver coins, she moved on to the other corpse. It gave a disembodied laugh and Sel snarled, tearing her flask free from her cloak and upending it into her mouth.


    Once it was drained, she searched the corpse, hoping the hallucinations would be kept at bay for now. Kadran was a quiet hum in the back of her mind, almost like crystalline chimes softly clinking against each other. She found nothing on the corpse, and she sighed at a pointless fight.


    I¡¯m certain they were coming to meet Merkin, though I suppose it hardly matters now. What will we do now, report back at the castle? Kadran hummed.


    ¡°I think you know the answer, Kaddy.¡± Sel started down the hallway, suddenly exhausted.


    Seluna. I know you¡¯re still grieving the loss of¡ª


    ¡°Don¡¯t you dare say her name!¡± she roared, kicking a nearby rotting crate to splinters, then continuing down the tunnel in a wrathful silence.


    Kadran only sighed and receded from her mind, though he could never go far.


    <hr>


    An hour later, Sel reached the Ossuary¡ªthough the place was anything but dust and bones. The circular set of five caverns and the tunnels leading to it bristled with life. The unwashed, unpleasant kind, for the most part.


    She drifted along the wide main tunnel, letting the tides of thieves, addicts, dealers and gangsters sweep her along to the first cavern. As she neared the cavern, the lanterns on the walls ended, leaving a small pocket of darkness.


    Sel entered the Ossuary, holding a hand to her eyes and blinking at the sudden electric light. The large cavern had fairly neat rows of square, uniform stone buildings, carved straight from the dark gray rock. The neatness was somewhat ruined by the endless sprawl of wooden shacks and tents that filled any remaining free space. Violet neon light bled from dozens or more signs, hanging lights, and conduits running along walls and buildings.


    I¡¯m not even there to look at it and that light hurts my eyes, Kadran hummed in annoyance.


    Eh, you get used to it. I actually sort of like it, at least underground, she thought, pushing her way through the crowds.


    The lights were recent innovations, powered by some vile sludge¡ªa byproduct of certain illegal alchemical operations that produces strong electric currents. She didn¡¯t pretend to understand the purposefully obtuse science behind it, but she did know the tech would be taken by the government or nobility sooner or later. It was only in The Depths currently, its secrets kept by several of the up and coming drug lords.


    The lights cast a dozen pleasant shades of purple across her view as she made her way to the only reputable tavern in this part of The Depths. She approached the two story tall building, eyeing the sparking, rectangular neon sign. The light of the glass tubes of the border were vibrant and strong, but the five crows within the border wavered unsteadily. After a short staring contest with the wall of muscles standing in the doorway, she entered the tavern.


    The place was packed like usual, full of rowdy men and women using little more than crates and barrels for their seats or tables. She passed under a flickering bulb overhead as she stepped around a short woman, who was flexing a shiny new arm.


    The chemtech prosthetic was likely one of a kind, experimental, expensive, and prone to exploding without warning. It was a sleek steel frame with too many joints and actuators that are capable of precise movements, ending in three long, wide claws. The hand and wrist had visible extra pistons, allowing the woman to deliver crushing blows. Most of the wiring and tubing were obscured by the wicked metal plating banded around the frame.


    I can smell that sludge seeping into her blood from here, Kadran muttered. He had made it his personal mission to be disgusted with most technological advances, for some reason.


    What¡¯s a bit of toxic chems in the blood, when it gets you power, right? Sel thought back dryly. She finally reached the bar counter¡ªreally just a wide wooden plank set on some crates.


    ¡°Ah, Sel. I¡¯m not taking care of you if you get wasted this time,¡± Gil said with a charming smile, setting down the dirty mug he¡¯d been ¡®cleaning¡¯ with an equally dirty rag. His skin was a golden brown, like many people of the southern colonies, but the bald man was alarmingly thick of arm, charm, and¡ªoccasionally¡ªwit. His weathered, sun-kissed skin told a story of a life on the seas.


    ¡°Shove it, Gil. Give me your strongest.¡± She pulled over a barrel, took a seat at the right corner of the bar, tilted back to watch the rest of the room with one eye.


    ¡°The Flock recently got in some Vornish rotgut, which I¡¯m sure you¡¯ll pretend to love.¡± The broad chested ex-Kythian mariner gave a suspiciously dark chuckle as he rummaged through some crates behind him. (She liked the grizzled old sailor well enough¡ªbut The Flock was an absolutely stupid name for a tavern, regardless of the territory it¡¯s in.)


    ¡°So long as it gets me drunk expeditiously, it could be prison swill for all I care.¡± Sel was not, to put it gently, in a good way as of late.


    Kadran¡¯s low humming somehow sounded like a ceaseless eye roll¡ªshe tuned him and the clawing presence in her mind out for now. He didn¡¯t know a damned thing. Maybe he would get off her case if he understood how dead she felt inside.


    ¡°Here you are, missy¡ª¡± Gil set down a battered tin cup and moved to pour some brackish liquid into it, but Sel stopped him.


    ¡°Just leave it.¡± She rummaged through her coin pouch to drop twenty silver on the counter. He raised one bushy eyebrow but took the coins.


    ¡°I¡¯m warning you¡ª¡±


    Sel didn¡¯t heed the all too benevolent warning. She¡¯d already taken a deep swig from the small bottle, and had to fight hard to keep a straight face as she set it down. Her thin lips puckered a bit and her dark brown eyes watered as she swallowed. It burned her mouth and throat fiercely, tasted like mud, and she instantly had to focus as bile tried to rise in her throat. The aftertaste was even worse than mud somehow, something like rather worn leather boots.


    ¡°I told you,¡± Gil said with a laugh. ¡°You sure you don¡¯t want whiskey¡ª¡±


    Sel took two more swigs in quick succession, just to spite him. She kept her face blank even as tears leaked from her eyes. Her mouth and throat started to numb in seconds. He just shook his head with a grin and turned to help another patron for a moment.


    By the fourth sip of the foul liquor, her face burned and she started to unwind slowly. By the fifth, Kadran was a hazy, scaly annoyance in the back of her mind. On the sixth, she realized she¡¯d been slumped over for the last twenty minutes, rambling to Gil about how stupid carving out a miniature city below an actual city was.


    The seventh and eighth swigs brought her closer to the stars, despite being underground. She caught herself muttering about the Heir¡¯s visit in a few months, as well as that accursed Veylin. The ninth drink she took from the bottle¡ªand anything beyond¡ªfinally brought her sweet oblivion. Thoughts of her master, her loss, her life and the future slipped from her mind.


    Bliss.

 Cursed And Bloody

    I pulled myself from the brink of death only because of my overwhelming wrath. That wrath cooled during my travels, and at a certain point, I was left with clarity.


    <hr>


    Veera bit her lip, tapping a foot as she pulled out a clunky timepiece. Nearly midnight. Smog hung heavy in the Bellows, the industrial crescent of the Warrens. She bit her lip again, annoyed as she felt another spike of fury at her mission.


    She huddled on a crate in a disgusting alley, a block away from the textile mill she was about to fight her way into. By the damned stars, she wasn¡¯t even supposed to be working tonight. She had better things to do¡ªnamely anything else besides Sel¡¯s work.


    But no, little miss infamous had to continue her almost year long tradition of living at the bottom of a bottle, damned fool, she thought, pulling out a rolled terva leaf and firestarter.


    Her right arm was a dull, ugly pain like always. She lit the terva, inhaling the earthy smelling, pain reliving plant. Veera knew it would barely help with the constant ache, but it did have other benefits. Namely intoxicating her enough to ignore pain and fatigue in short battles.


    The fleshcrafted arm, hidden beneath a dark half cloak, itched and twinged like the Matron¡¯s claws were digging around in the unnatural limb of flesh and scale. It twitched as she flexed the long claws of her grotesque replacement and took another draw on the terva leaf.


    She absentmindedly gave her armor and gear a once-over after blowing a ring of smoke. Her blackened lightweight chainmail sat comfortably under her thin, black painted breastplate, all her straps secure around her broad, muscled frame. Though she had a short sword at her hip, she probably wouldn¡¯t be using it tonight. She hefted a long heater shield that sat near her¡ªsomething she¡¯d borrowed from a particularly asinine garrison captain.


    Veera inhaled the terva smoke again, letting it linger in her lungs until it burned. She stood, gave an exasperated sigh to no one, and headed to the street. She turned left, heading past three new alchemical refineries¡ªcourtesy of House Lorithian¡ªand toward her bloody work.


    According to the contract details(Not like she¡¯d be getting paid, if she knew her master.), she was to crash the meeting at the Morganth textile mill that just started. On her own, she was expected to break into an immense, heavily guarded building¡ªthen wreck havoc as she cut her way through who knows how many Bloodwrights and Savant assassins, in an attempt to get to certain targets among their ranks.


    Thanks master, so much. Of course I love going into a clusterfuck, without support or even a pep talk. So gracious, Veera thought, glowering at the smog around her as she ashed her terva leaf. At least the idiots of the Savant assassins guild won¡¯t be much trouble. Those Bloodwright killers though¡­


    The Savants were a sanctioned assassins guild, like her own, though they were smaller and only completed contracts that pertained to their specialty¡ªsubterfuge and high-profile assassinations across the entire region of the Eastern Heartlands. From experience she knew them to be cocky, egotistical, and exceedingly fragile.


    The Bloodwrights, on the other hand, were well-known professional killers, with ties to powerful noble houses, and even to the Church of Ascendant Light. They were far worse news¡ªshe doubted even her powerful, armored limb would give them pause. She inhaled more smoke, letting the leaf hang from the corner of her mouth.


    Before she knew it, she neared the textile mill. Veera was nothing but a shadow in the smog and darkness, even the light from her terva leaf dimming. She eyed the squat gray brick building critically. None of the typical Morganth guards hovered about. Instead, several patrols of cloaked Savants protected the building, but there were no stationary guards she could see.


    Might as well go in through the front, and get this crap over with, she thought, smoke trickling from her nose as she exhaled.


    She wasn¡¯t exactly a creature of subtly and caution.


    Veera advanced along the walls of a factory until she neared the alley of the textile mill. A pair of slender assassins walked from it, about to round the corner. She struck.


    She may not be fast overall, but her fleshcrafted arm was a different story. She came up behind the closest guard, then slammed the edge of her shield into his temple violently. He dropped to the ash covered ground with a thump.


    The other assassin turned, eyes wide but expression unreadable behind a gray cloth mask. Before he could raise the shard and star launchers on either arm, she thrust her right arm forward. It flared in pain as her claws crunched into his face.


    Blood ran down the scales around her hand and wrist, and she let the corpse drop in disgust, flicking the blood from her. The other patrol coming at her from down the street hadn¡¯t noticed, thank Aureon. She puffed on the half forgotten leaf, tensed, and charged, making the smog whirl around her with each step.


    To the two assassins, it was as if an especially large, unfriendly, and muscular wraith materialized straight from the acrid smog. One almost got out a yelp or curse¡ªbut her sickening clawed fist grabbed his head, then she slammed his delicate skull into the textile mill¡¯s wall, ending him.


    The other one leapt back, trying to gain some distance, then clenched his right fist. Veera almost rolled her eyes as she brought up her shield and advanced, letting the constant flurry of small, sharp five pointed stars hit her shield. She fell upon him, her right arm sweeping out for his throat.


    The small man managed to bring up the long, wicked shard of steel sticking from a device on his left arm, parrying her claws with immense difficulty. Admirable, but it wasn¡¯t enough¡ª


    He shifted the shard, clenched his fist, and shot the shard into her right upper arm. She cursed as hot pain burned through her arm, but she didn¡¯t let him get another shard ready.


    She bashed his face with her shield, then swept her claws across his neck, nearly taking his head off. She left him there without another glance, strolling to the wide front door. She drew in a deep breath of terva smoke, then tore the shard from her arm without hesitation.


    That hurt worse than it did going in. Blood spurted from the wound between her scales, but after a moment, the flow ebbed. The monstrous arm had its benefits¡ªlike not letting her bleed out because she stupidly yanked the shard out. But at least this pain was fresh and sharp, far preferable than the constant dull ache she lived with.Reading on Amazon or a pirate site? This novel is from Royal Road. Support the author by reading it there.


    She rolled her shoulders, squared her stance, and pulled back her right arm. The muscles and tendons audibly tightened, then she struck at the door. It¡¯d been inches thick, yet it splintered into a thousand pieces as her fist smashed against it. She walked inside with a casual pace, flinging her half cloak out of the way of her right arm.


    New foes already rushed down the wide hallway to halt her advance¡ªa hallway cluttered with fine rugs, fancy gilded portraits, and odd trophies. Certainly not a textile mill. She eyed the five enemies, all Savants, but she wasn¡¯t too concerned. She ¡®borrowed¡¯ the shield for a reason, after all.


    Dumb little launchers. Who thought that was a good enough of an idea to make that their only weapons, she thought, smoke curling up past her dark eyes as she grinned, then shook her uneven black hair from her face.


    She moved the tall, wide heater shield in front of her and charged. The Savants unleashed dozens of razor sharp stars, though they did little besides give her a handful of shallow cuts.


    When she drew within ten feet of the first few, they unleashed a concentrated barrage of five steel shards. They were well aimed¡ªher shield splintered and cracked, several of the shards scoring her left arm. She tossed the shield at the first man on the left, almost smiling as it hit his face.


    She lunged to a nearby assassin on her right, twisting her too large right arm just the right way, feeling bones click and shift.


    Before she reached the tall man, a slender blade of bone shot out from the flesh of her right palm. It pierced his light leather vest with ease, and she didn¡¯t wait to see if it was fatal¡ªshe tore the retractable bone sword free, gripping it with her right hand before sweeping it to the left.


    The one sharp edge of the straight, unnaturally smooth blade sheared through the man¡¯s right forearm with just a tug of resistance as he put it up to fire. From the corner of her eye she saw a flicker of movement.


    She drew her short sword with her left hand in a fluid motion, spun in a semicircle, finishing the wounded man with a slice across his neck with her sword¡ªand ducked just in time to avoid two lengthy shards to the eyes.


    She closed in on them, right arm forward to let some frantically shot stars glance off the thick, dark scales there. One woman turned to run, but she skewered both of the assassins in little over a moment.


    So far, so¡­okay, I guess, Veera thought, trying to distance her mind from the gore and blood around her. She was good at what she did, and sometimes enjoyed a good fight¡ªbut it took a sick fool to take pleasure in snuffing out lives. And she wasn¡¯t quite that sick yet. Probably.


    She moved on, striding down the hall at a brisk pace. It was quiet besides some distant voices. If the plans she¡¯d been giving were correct, she just needed to get to the room at the end of the long hall. She¡ª


    A slim crossbow bolt slammed into her right shoulder¡ªshe nearly dropped her terva. With gritted teeth, veins pulsing across her forehead, and a puff of smoke, she tried her best to ignore the bolt and continue forward. Two more bolts blurred toward her after a moment, but she was ready this time.


    She dodged one, then turned her body, letting the other one snap against the broadest, densest section of scales on her right shoulder. From there, it was an annoying dance¡ªand a few bolts later, she finally spotted the sleek black crossbows sticking from firing slits built into the doors of the meeting room. It was about forty feet away now, and their rate of fire only increased the closer she got.


    Though another bolt embedded itself in her fleshcrafted arm, she ignored it for now¡ªthe mounting pain only set their fates in stone. She charged forward with a raw shout, retracting her blade painfully as she neared the large, thick looking wooden door. Her right fist curled and her muscles bulged uncomfortably, then she smashed her fist into the door.


    The wood cracked but it held. She bit the butt of the smoldering leaf, then jabbed twice more¡ªthe hinges gave out before the door did. It flew back a few inches and fell, crushing the two Bloodwright crossbowmen who¡¯d been right on the other side.


    The room was a moderate size, but was all garish porcelain tiles and gaudy tapestries. Plush furniture sat in the middle of the room, surrounded by rugs, refreshment tables, ornate lanterns hanging from the ceiling and other frivolities. She let herself in, twisting her arm to extend her bone sword so she could brandish it at the crowded chamber alongside her short sword.


    I bet Sel¡¯s tiny arse couldn''t take this room. I do sort of wish I was the one getting blackout drunk, though, she thought grimly.


    Like her master said, the leaders of the guild and the gang weren¡¯t among the room¡¯s occupants¡ªonly several of their lieutenants and some of their more influential or senior members. The meeting was to set up the murder of their two leaders¡ªthe mysterious master of the Savants had contracted her guild to make sure that didn¡¯t happen.


    The six Bloodwrights were the first to react, twelve blades sliding from six pairs of long, stiff blue sleeves with sharp hisses. They darted for Veera, their leader the farthest from her, his expensive looking white mask bearing red crystal eyes slits instead of the azure of the others. She charged in turn, but twisted to kick up a long refreshment table.


    Food and wine flew everywhere as the table knocked two of the professional killers aside. The leader of the Savants hesitated to join the fray, but his men readied their annoying launchers.


    She leapt over the table she¡¯d thrown, parrying the first Bloodwright¡¯s twin blades with her own. She pulled her head back, then delivered a painful headbutt to the man¡¯s mask. It cracked, blood leaking from the fractures as he became limp.


    The Savants let loose their volleys of stars and shards, but Veera grabbed the unconscious man and used him as a shield while running forward. He jerked and started struggling as the projectiles dug into him. When the next Bloodwrights came into reach, she tossed the man at a few Savants to her left.


    What followed was an exhausting exchange of blows, seconds dragging by as Veera took more and more wounds from her foes. Once she cut her way to the leader of the blue coated killers, she surprised him as she shot forward. Instead of meeting his blades, she feinted with her bone sword.


    Then she swept her sword across his chest, sending polished silver buttons flying and ruining his fine outfit. He staggered back, letting Veera ram her short sword through his left eye slit. She let him fall away from her, helping him on his way with a kick, then turned to the Savants. She almost laughed.


    The few living Bloodwrights had already fled¡ªnow six of the Savants saw the wisdom in that and did the same. She didn¡¯t mind not having to cut them down, and the only ones who truly mattered were the leaders. The Savant lieutenant shoved his last remaining man forward.


    Veera strode forward, unhurried and with both blades coated in crimson. The last lackey raised both arms¡ª


    Then ran to her right, in a wide circle.


    She blinked, confused, as he called over his shoulder, ¡°Have at it lady, I never liked that bastard!¡±


    The Savant leader shrunk a bit, looking after the other assassin as he ran away with what Veera would call ¡®dignified cowardice¡¯. She enjoyed her slight amusement a bit.


    ¡°Seems you should¡¯ve treated them better. Your master sends their regards,¡± Veera said, closing the distance in an eye blink and knocking aside his shard launcher. Before he could fire his other one, she buried her short sword in that arm, then slid her bone sword into his chest.


    The moments dragged by as he gurgled, blood dripping from his mouth beneath the cloth mask, until he finally gave a finally rattle and stilled. She pushed him off and leaned down to clean her weapons on his cloak. She sheathed her sword and retracted the bone blades, letting the pain of too many wounds wash over her.


    She stumbled over to one of the plush, round seats with a table next to it. After she sank down with a sigh, she pulled out and lit another leaf of terva. She thought for a moment, then grabbed the tiny crystal bottle of liquor on the table, sipping from it¡ªdamn it was the smoothest brandy she¡¯d come across.


    Veera let herself lean back for a few minutes, trying to rest before reporting back to the castle. But despite the growing haze from the terva and liquor, she couldn¡¯t stop looking at her blood covered form in disgust¡ªbut she reserved a look of utter contempt for her fleshcrafted arm. The light almond tones of her face were almost hidden beneath excessive amounts of blood. She tried to wipe it away, and only managed to smear it across her skin more.


    She sighed, plopped back against the seat, and closed her tired eyes as the adrenaline of the fight started to leave her.

 Dregs Of The Depths

    My sudden, profound clarity led me back to Vyranthas¡ªback to the hell where I was reborn.


    <hr>


    Sel woke to some inconsiderate tool shaking her and Kadran prodding her mentally, each jab making her twitch. She let him shake her once more before whipping around and grabbing their hands, twisting to break¡ª


    ¡°Damn it Sel, quit it!¡± Ryn winced.


    She let go and noticed her previously consumed liquor trying to make a break for it. Fighting down bile, she turned to the tall, narrow faced and handsome assassin. She tried to glare into his dark eyes, but there instead her bloodshot eyes just blinked slowly, heavy with an exhaustion that had nothing to do with her daily self drownings.


    ¡°How did you even find me?¡± She slumped against the bar with a groan.


    He scratched at his short, messy brown hair before joining her and taking a seat at an empty barrel. He grinned at her, his face bright and cheerful. She hated him for that.


    ¡°Matron has a fun little mission for us. I assumed you might want a break from the Ashen Hand hunt and that booze,¡± he said, nudging her with an elbow. His proud, almost elegant features took on odd contours in the light of the room, his violet tinged black cloak, clothes and leather vest nearly identical to Sel¡¯s


    ¡°You assumed wrong, Ryn. Maybe you could join me, see what you¡¯re missing out on.¡± Despite Kadran prodding her even harder, she was determined to revolt¡ªby slumping further against the counter.


    ¡°Come on idiot, it¡¯ll distract you.¡± He stood, then practically dragged Sel out of the building by her limp arms.


    He¡¯s right, you know. Focus on earning aurons, appeasing the Matron, and getting to the point where you can find your brother, Kadran whispered in her aching head.


    It¡¯s not like she¡¯ll send me to the south, or like I¡¯ll even buy my freedom by then, Sel shot back.


    We¡¯ll pull the right strings to get us there, Sel, he hummed. I thought I was supposed to be the weird, pessimistic one, not you.


    Ryn pulled her out of the Ossuary caverns, through two long tunnels, and they started skirting around the Pit Circuit before she even realized it. Maybe she should slow down on the drinking a little¡ªthough that sounded suspiciously sane and logical for her.


    They stepped carefully in these outer tunnels¡ªthe Pitlords weren¡¯t as friendly as the gang ruling over the Oss. She ignored the press of bodies as they went up the curving tunnel, thinking instead of what she remembered about The Patriarch. Her memory got jogged a bit when one of his gladiators basically robbed a brawny thug, less than twenty feet away.


    They were one of the rising stars of underground¡ªone of the five Alchemical Sovereigns who¡¯d risen to power in the last year. She didn¡¯t know much about The Patriarch, besides that he was some famous ex-gladiator from the south. That, and he ran an outfit that was both well-oiled machine, and messy as hell. The barrel-chested ¡®gladiator¡¯ wore minimal armor¡ªreally just bulky iron pauldrons and arm plating.


    The gangster brandished his short sword, face hidden by an odd full helm, with the front half little more than a cage of metal bars. Veins of pulsing red energy crept below the surface of his skin, spreading erratically across most of his body. The sign of a frequent user of the alchemical drug known as bloodmist, a nasty piece of work that¡¯s only been refined further in the last ten months.


    Though they saw a few patrols of the generally massive and rowdy gladiators¡ªthey even drifted past two of the less popular fighting pits¡ªthey made it to the shafts heading up to the Upper Depths. It was generally a neutral area, but recently The Murder, the Crow ruled gang who oversaw the Oss and several areas in the Warrens, had taken it upon themselves to provide some security to the so-called communities residing in the Middle Depths. Lackeys hovered around the electric lift leading upward, not at all alert.


    She joined the small crowd piling onto the lift, though she eyed the Crow¡¯s enforcers. They wore drab, uniform black long coats of stiff cloth, bone shards replacing the buttons doing it up. Aside from their dark, vicious looking claws they had slipped around their hands, their most distinctive feature were the metallic corvid skulls they wore.


    They were ignored as the pair entered the lift, then the lift master started their slow ascent. The hot press of filthy men and women, their clothes unwashed more commonly than clean, annoyed the hungover and irate Sel. She had to close her eyes and bite her cheek in order to resist breaking the nose of a man who jostled her on the right.


    Ah, the benefits of living in both the Aether, and the physical realm. I think I¡¯d have to say that¡¯s an even better advantage than my other powers. Too bad you¡¯re stuck with your fellow, smelly humans, Kadran hummed flatly. He¡¯d been working on his quips and delivery in his spare time, apparently. They still needed intense work.


    After a few claustrophobic minutes, they reached the Upper Depths and started down the Tunnel of Stars¡ªthe largest, most central route of the level. Shards of white glowing crystals peppered the walls sporadically, mixing curiously with the flickering oil lanterns lining the tunnel. Ryn still tugged her along until they reached the spiderweb of tunnels that made up the Charnel Markets.


    It was like The Depths was a darker mirror of certain areas above ground. From the people, to the drugs and gangs¡ªeverything was simply worse here. The Markets were run by Madame Morana, leader of the Twilight Serpents. The entire area made all the pleasure and gambling dens above look like upstanding establishments. Here, Morana satisfied every need¡ªuntil the patron couldn¡¯t pay. Then they payed with their heads.This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road. If you spot it on Amazon, please report it.


    They reached a surface shaft after another thirty minutes, where a lift led to a certain tenement that lay deep within the Shadowed Court of the Warrens. There were a handful of other well-known or secret passages to the surface¡ªthey used this one since they didn¡¯t want to risk going to other parts of The Depths, plus this shaft didn¡¯t force them to head through the city¡¯s sewers and original tunnels to get above ground.


    Another slow ascension later, they made their way down the streets of the Shadowed Court, the night sky either overcast or invisible in the smog that settled at the deepest part of the city. This early in the morning the streets only held a trickle of traffic, nowhere near as much as below ground. The stone tenements loomed around them, bridges or planks spanning the gaps between most of them. The majority of these buildings were vacant besides numerous illicit businesses and merchants, and along the street and each alley sprawled endless hovels¡ªminor swindlers, food stalls, and other less reputable merchants.


    The twelve winding, disorganized blocks passed in a haze, then they strode along one of the three main avenues of the quarter, passing swaths of tenements in varying degrees of disrepair. The Warrens was in rough shape, especially after recent events.


    They passed by a section of newer wooden tenements, then several blocks where they were still being rebuilt. A little over six months ago, a fire raged through the city¡ªmostly affecting the commoners, of course. Thanks to worsening conditions, it wasn¡¯t long after that before a damned plague broke out. They¡¯d finally ridden themselves of it a few months ago, but the damage had been done.


    The commoners had been simmering with anger for years now, and the Lightsworn¡¯s and Church¡¯s response to those events hadn¡¯t helped. The poor living conditions still persisted throughout the quarter, though housing wasn¡¯t such an issue now. Not when thousands of commoners decided they¡¯d fare better serving the newer gangs in The Depths.


    Then there was the wholly unnecessary wall they erected after the disasters. The tall walls sealed in the Warrens, and they certainly didn¡¯t help with the smog. She thought it was some noble¡¯s idea of a sick joke¡ªnow, with the tenements of the Warrens and the crescent of the Bellows on the edge of it walled in, she could only imagine what would happen during another major plague or industrial fire. The commoners would be locked in without a second thought, left to fend for themselves like before.


    ¡°Can¡¯t say I blame the increasing amount of people turning to crime or drugs. I probably would too if I were stuck here,¡± Ryn said as they neared the Bellows, eyeing the still active factories, forges and refineries still belching chemicals and black smoke into the quarter.


    ¡°I¡¯m already ahead on those accounts.¡± Sel gave him a lopsided grin, though it grew as Kadran considered that, then gave a hum of agreement.


    Industry soon gave way to warehouses, then the walls. The lightly armored garrison guards waved them through with barely a cursory glance at the papers they flashed at them. On the other side, even more warehouses stretched to either side of them for blocks¡ªthe western edge of the Commerce Quarter.


    Sel started bothering Ryn for the details of their mission as they drew closer to the Imperial Boulevard, warehouses replaced with wide blocks of workshops, shops, and countless other business. He kept a smug, amused expression plastered on his face and refused to answer. They turned left onto the grand marble boulevard, heading north toward the Suncrest Quarter¡ªto the Heaven¡¯s Flame castle.


    They skirted around the new, somewhat impressive cathedral that¡¯d been erected at the center of the quarter five months ago. It was grand, she supposed, but it made her shake her head in disgust. The massive building was marble, all tall arches and towering spires, sweeping up to a central point like the spires were grasping for the stars. Broad pillars and statues of Starborns littered the thing, each one a careful work of art, inlaid with crystal or silver. The Defenders of Light guarded their holy site like always, the clanking of their heavy plate armor distinct and muffled.


    They had, of course, built that instead of focusing on the plague or rebuilding efforts in the Warrens first. It wasn¡¯t surprising¡ªjust disappointing, like much of Vyranthas. They left it behind as they followed the curving boulevard, and after twenty more minutes they turned left onto the avenue that marked the end of Commerce, and the start of Suncrest. It didn¡¯t take long for the castle to emerge from the smog.


    It was a squat, ugly dark gray thing¡ªimmense, walled, and out of place among the grand keeps and manors of the noble estates visible to the northeast, past high-end markets, vibrant gardens, Charter House estates and other things. She slowed as they neared the open gates¡ªshe was both hungover and still drunk, and did not at all look forward to being in her master¡¯s presence. If only she¡¯d grab a bottle of that Vornish swill before she¡¯d left that tavern¡­


    It¡¯s probably a good thing you forgot to do so. That liquor is so strong, I could feel the bitter burn through our Bond. It wasn¡¯t very pleasant. Kadran, lord of advice and all things sensible, was promptly ignored by Sel. She had a stockpile in her room anyway.


    The stoic guards¡ªclad in blackened chainmail and breastplates, wielding short spears and shields¡ªwaved them through. One was a little less stoic, and the broad, tattooed Farik winked at her slyly as she passed. The courtyard ringing the castle was empty, oddly enough. The guild must be taking up an increased workload all over the region, if even the trainees weren¡¯t around.


    They passed more guards as they strode through the long, thin entrance hall. The familiar cold, austere place was the same as it always was¡­but darker somehow. Sel sighed.


    The pair entered the quiet rotunda of the central communications hub. Unlike most mornings, only a handful of brothers and sisters moved about the large, circular room. Besides several guard posts, a dozen long, curved tables made a ring in the center of the room. Usually over a dozen scribes or agents would be scribbling away there, but she only saw three right now. One whistled a specific way, calling down a hawk from the rookery built into the ceiling near the second floor.


    She followed Ryn past two guards stationed in front of the War Room, keeping her eyes downcast, trying not to think of how horrid she must look right now. They passed shelves of scrolls and missives, stopping at the overly large stone table occupying the middle of the room. A detailed map of Vyranthas was chiseled into its surface, her ex-mentor Veldar and the sneering Veera bickering softly as they moved pieces around a section of the map.


    ¡°So nice of you to join us, Seluna. You can report on the Ashen Hand later¡ªwe have more pressing issues,¡± the High Matron said, her yellow, almost reptilian eyes not even glancing up as she drummed long, claw-like nails against the table.


    ¡°Since Ryn wouldn¡¯t tell me, despite asking a few dozen times, what¡¯s more pressing?¡± Sel asked. She glanced at Veera, but looked away when their gazes met. She looked especially pissed.


    ¡°We¡¯re going to shut down a major Darkin cultist operation.¡± A cold, humorless smile spread across the matron¡¯s flawless, angular face.


    That got her attention.


    ¡°What¡¯s the plan?¡± Sel asked, trying to sound curious instead of exhausted.


    ¡°I think you¡¯ll find it agreeable, child,¡± the Matron said, amusement bleeding into her voice.

 Kindred Shades

    ¡°This is to be a precise operation over the course of twelve hours. Normally we¡¯d have more time, but Lightward Cassian can be rather impatient," the Matron said with an exasperated sigh, long silver braid and matching silver dress shimmering in the lantern light overhead. ¡°If it is any consolation, at least this base isn¡¯t somewhere underground. For the most part.¡±


    ¡°So do you have a location?¡± Ryn asked, leaning against the table casually. His handsome face held the usual overly smug grin.


    ¡°We¡¯ve narrowed it down to a three block radius just outside the Ash Lanes of the Warrens. Veldar will take charge¡ªSeluna, Ryn and Veera, you follow his lead. You should have adequate time to pin down their base and take note of any significant guard presence.¡±


    ¡°Fine by me. And after those twelve hours?¡± Sel asked, hoping against all odds that this wouldn¡¯t be another mission where they¡¯d have to take on dozens of enemies alone.


    ¡°Then you four will assist the Lightward and his Defenders in storming the Darkin base.¡± The Matron¡¯s almost alien gaze was icy and dark¡ªshe wasn¡¯t exactly pleased about such close work with the Church.


    ¡°Great, we can have a bunch of overladen zealots get us killed instead of Veera doing that¡­¡± Sel muttered, drawing an annoyed look from Veera, to her delight.


    Wouldn¡¯t you say it¡¯s counterproductive to immediately antagonize one of our team members? Kadran intoned. What a silly thing for her Starborn to say.


    Not when it¡¯ll make the mission less boring. Lighten up Kaddy,¡ª


    Shut up.


    ¡ªshouldn¡¯t you be excited? It¡¯s been over ten months since the Church came to the guild with that first Darkin contract. Where¡¯s the sense of wonder and curiosity? Isn¡¯t it oh so curious that we haven¡¯t seen more of them since?


    She tuned back into the conversation as the Matron said, ¡°¡ªand Sel, it goes without saying that you can¡¯t use your powers in the presence of Lightward Cassian. He¡¯d kill you right there.¡± The Matron handed a few papers to Veldar and continued, ¡°Use your enhanced arm as you please, Veera. They¡¯re well aware it¡¯s related to my own Bonded powers. Meet Veldar at the gates by tonight¡¯s eighth bell.¡±


    The High Matron turned back to some ledgers and missives on the table, dismissing the four of them with a wave of her hand. Sel shared a look with Ryn as they turned to leave. She was annoyed about not being able to use her powers, and pausing her Ashen Hand work¡ªbut Sel assumed the soldiers of the Church would do the heavy lifting anyway, when the time came.


    Kadran had been humming in low, aggravating tones while the Matron spoke, but he finally stopped and said, I¡¯m less curious and more concerned, I think. The Darkin are so careful, so mysterious¡ªsomething tells me they wanted to be found now.


    Well, they might get less mysterious tonight. You can contemplate their mysteries¡ªwhile I head to the Starry Flask. This made her Starborn produce a mind numbing groan, which she ignored.


    As they left the War Room behind Veldar and Veera, Sel turned to Ryn and said, ¡°Come get a drink with me, lightweight.¡±


    He scrunched up his brow and thought for a moment before shrugging. ¡°Sure, I could go for some wine before finding something to kill the time until tonight. And I¡¯m not a lightweight, you just drink too much.¡±


    She grinned up at him and led the way. It wasn¡¯t often that he joined her at taverns, and she could use the company in case Meryn and her crew weren¡¯t around.


    <hr>


    About an hour later, the pair strode up the slightly rundown looking wooden tavern, but they stopped and hurried out of the way of the open door when a gruff voice yelled, ¡°Watch out!¡±


    A moment later the burly tavern owner, Bronn, appeared in the doorway with a squirming thug held in one hand. Sel raised her eyebrows as the retired soldier flexed bulging muscles hidden beneath a scratchy looking gray tunic. With little visible effort, Bronn flung the man out of the building, sending him sailing a good eight feet before he crashed down on the street.


    ¡°Next time, don¡¯t threaten my customers lad!¡± He said, folding his thick arms. The old man turned to them and grinned. ¡°Bit early, but come on in Sel. I¡¯ll get your usual ready¡ªjust try not to pass out on a table again.¡±


    The jab didn¡¯t bother her much as she and Ryn followed him inside. The jovial man was probably a bit tired from hauling her to an empty room to sleep it off¡ªwhich was about the only thing she felt bad about. The tavern was packed, even at this early hour. Alcoholics and hungry patrons alike sprawled around small tables in the hazy room, where the scents of spiced stews, pipe smoke, stale ale and sharp liquors barely masked the smell of acrid industry that seeped into the buildings in this part of the Warrens, just outside of the Bellows.


    She led Ryn over to Meryn, who waved at her from a secluded corner of the room. The tall slab of obsidian of a man, Coris, and the diminutive, always grinning Sereth sat to either side of the ex-merc, each enjoying a steaming bowl of stew. Meryn herself nursed a tankard of the tavern¡¯s signature dark, bitter ale.


    As Sel and Ryn pulled chairs over and seated themselves, she grinned at the trio and said, ¡°Fancy seeing you lot here.¡±


    Kadran quietly hummed in her mind, already tired from the upcoming day of Sel either being drunk, or passed out. She wondered for the hundredth time if Starborn could get drunk. Then she wondered how hard it¡¯d be to get Kadran to materialize and partake someday. Kadran, picking up on her amused thoughts, only huffed.


    Meryn laughed deeply, her deep brown eyes creasing in amusement. ¡°Girl, you know damned well that this is practically the only tavern I frequent these days. Shame that my other favorites in the Shadowed Court came under new management.¡±


    Sel nodded, giving an exaggerated sad and sympathetic look, which only made the woman laugh more. Many districts and ¡®establishments¡¯ in that part of the Warrens were now under the thumbs of some of the Alchemical Sovereigns now. Ryn fidgeted with his leather vest, looking uncomfortable.


    ¡°This is Ryn, a good friend of mine¡ªif you don¡¯t remember,¡± she said, feeling awkward.


    Meryn folded muscled arms, her rich almond skin almost bronze in the warm lantern light of the tavern as she said, ¡°I remember. Any friend of yours is a friend of mine.¡±


    Ryn relaxed a fraction, grinning at the old merc. ¡°It¡¯s an honor, really. You¡¯re really quite a legend in your own right¡ªthe Imperial Explorer! The mercenary captain who¡¯s been around the world, and the first Imperial citizen to manage to step foot on Kelvor and live to tell the tale!¡±


    Sel winced internally, then drove her bony elbow into Ryn¡¯s side. That was exactly what not to ever bring up to Meryn. It was a little known fact that most of her band didn¡¯t come back from that Empire ordered mission¡ªshe stopped exploring and mercenary work shortly after.


    Meryn¡¯s hard face darkened dangerously, but only for a moment. She sighed, closing her eyes, suddenly looking immensely weary. In that moment she was ancient and tired¡ªher face lined with years of hardships, her tightly coiled black hair taking on shades of gray, and her eyes full of regret. Then it was gone, replaced by her usual smile, though it was forced.


    ¡°Oh, I¡¯m just a simple soul now. Some light thievery here, a little independent work there. Those days of adventure and glory are behind me,¡± Meryn said with a shake of her head.This story originates from Royal Road. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.


    Sereth changed the subject and said, ¡°Forget about all that, you light-blinded gits¡ªwe should talk about the crap going on.¡±


    Sel rolled her eyes as she said, ¡°Oh? Like the Ashen Hand, who¡¯ve been discussed to death, or the millionth conspiracy or secret serial killer you seem to know about? Or maybe another one of your flings?¡±


    ¡°Maybe¡ªbut it isn¡¯t like most of what I talk about is untrue. I¡¯ve heard a few more things about the Ashen Hand which I¡¯m sure you¡¯ll want to know, hunting then and all. Plus there¡¯s definitely a serial killer having a ball in the Warrens. And now that you mentioned flings¡­¡± Sereth rambled, a wicked grin spreading across her face.


    Bronn¡ªthank the stars¡ªinterrupted her as he walked up, bearing a tray of tankards, small wooden cups, and several bottles. For the first time Sel noticed he wasn¡¯t walking with his cane, or his usual limp. Though his leg was hidden by dark trousers, it looked less twisted than it had been from what she could tell. His other ancient wounds and scars remained as she remembered, like the crooked nose that¡¯d never healed right, or the map of scars decorating his rough face.


    ¡°What will it be Sel, wine or whiskey?¡± Bronn asked, setting down a tankard of ale for Meryn, and the empty cups for Ryn and Sel.


    ¡°Just leave both bottles¡ªRyn here prefers wine,¡± Sel said, counting out fifteen silver aurons to give the man. She hesitated, then asked, ¡°So¡­your leg¡¯s doing better now?¡±


    Bronn took the coins and set down the bottles, grinning broadly. He leaned closer to Sel and said, ¡°Saw some sort of miracle worker in the Warrens. Didn¡¯t help some of my other aching scars, but they fixed my leg! Stars, I feel years younger because of it.¡±


    Sel raised her eyebrows and looked after him as he departed through the crowded room.


    You¡¯re thinking what I¡¯m thinking, aren¡¯t you? Kadran hummed.


    Yeah. Whoever he saw wasn¡¯t a miracle worker. Just someone Bonded to a Fleshweaver, she thought.


    We should ask him to tell us more, sometime¡ª


    Should we? Seems like whatever price they ask isn¡¯t too high, plus they¡¯re actively helping people, unlike the Matron. Sel sent him a dismissive pulse through their connection.


    ¡°Tell me about whatever rumors you¡¯ve heard¡­and not about your third beefsteak of a Kretorian sailor of the month,¡± Sel said, fighting the urge to laugh at the woman¡¯s almost disappointed expression.


    Sereth shared a look and a quick series of hand signs with Coris. She grew visibly excited, her thin face lighting up, her frizzy auburn hair bobbing as she nodded and said, ¡°Nothing that major for the Ashen Hand. Another few murders with their marks at the scene, notably at House Valorinth, Saryth and Ashryn. They broke open some food stores around the city and had some street gangs hand it out. What I think you¡¯ll find really interesting¡ªthey vandalized the newest church in the Warrens, off of Steral Avenue. Even left some cryptic threats for the deacon of the place.¡±


    ¡°Let me guess¡ªno witnesses for for any of those?¡± Sel asked, pouring some mildly sweet crimson wine for Ryn before pouring whiskey in her own cup.


    ¡°Nope. Well actually, Deek mentioned something about the vandalizing. Maybe he saw it or knows more, but I don¡¯t know what his usual haunts are these days.¡± Sereth shrugged and shoved a spoonful of stew into her mouth.


    Meryn grunted and said, ¡°Kid apparently runs a little group of his own near Rat¡¯s Haven now. Wouldn¡¯t tell me where to find him¡ªhe¡¯s been growing up way too fast in the last year. Little man has secrets and responsibilities now, I guess.¡± She drained her tankard, set it down, and started on the next one. ¡°I¡¯m real curious about why you¡¯re so set on hunting them, Sel. As far as I¡¯m concerned, they¡¯re saints.¡±


    Sel sipped her whiskey, savoring the burn of the sharp, amber liquid. She¡¯d have to remember to track Deek down sometime. After a second sip she said, ¡°Eh, you know how guild business is. I can¡¯t really say I disagree with you. Haven¡¯t heard about them killing an innocent yet¡ªthey¡¯ve just been screwing with nobles, the Alchemical Sovereigns, the Church and some of the more wicked gangs.¡±


    ¡°Glad you share my opinion on them¡ªthough I¡¯m still pretty upset that they pulled off a heist on one of my recent targets. We showed up to a trail of bodies, their mark burned into one wall, and almost nothing to steal.¡± Meryn shook her head.


    Ryn cleared his throat, sipped his wine and said, ¡°I wouldn¡¯t mind helping you tomorrow Sel. Maybe we could question some house servants or something before finding Deek.¡±


    She nodded to him gratefully. A fresh set of eyes and ears could be just what she needed for this ridiculous business. Kadran had mostly pulled away from her mind, distancing himself from the crowded room of chattering humans, though she occasionally picked up on his sour mood.


    ¡°Now let¡¯s talk serial killers¡ªthis one¡¯s real, I promise. And no, don¡¯t ask me why they fascinate me, they just do. In the last few months there have been over a hundred murders of commoners that haven¡¯t been attributed to any gangs or organizations. Innocents, mostly,¡± Sereth said, a gleam in her eye.


    ¡°Oh¡­damn, that¡¯s a bit high,¡± Sel admitted, lowering the cup that¡¯d been about to meet her thin lips.


    ¡°Yup. Those are just the ones I¡¯m sure of.¡±


    ¡°Obsessing over murders and killers is a hobby of yours, huh?¡± Ryn asked with a smile.


    ¡°Damn right. It¡¯s interesting seeing how life and city conditions turn normal men into death obsessed monsters. But anyway, almost all of the murders I mentioned had the same calling card on the body, and there¡¯s more¡­¡± Sereth said, trailing off with a smug look.


    ¡°Okay, you¡¯ve piqued my interest you frizzy little freak, what else?¡± Sel asked with a laugh.


    ¡°Each corpse had a twelve pointed star cut into their chest and forehead, with perfect, clean lines. Usually the bodies are strung up, or posed into some odd scenes¡ªbut lately the displays have been getting more creative. The Church has been getting interested recently. Not because of their concern for the safety of commoners, of course, but because some priests and even a deacon disappeared a few days ago.¡±


    ¡°Spooky shit,¡± Sel said. She wasn¡¯t some vigilante with a big heart, but maybe she¡¯d talk with Kadran about bringing up this killer to the Matron¡ªor, failing that, just hunting him down. Innocent commoners shouldn¡¯t have to live with deranged fools around every corner. (She says, as a member of the deranged fools club.)


    ¡°Makes me glad I don¡¯t live in the Warrens. Anyway, they¡¯re calling the serial killer ¡®The Harbinger¡¯, probably because of the religious symbol they leave. But if you ever go and look into them¡ª¡± Sereth paused to give Sel a sharp look, furrowing her brow, ¡°¡ªyou¡¯d better take me with you.¡±


    Sel smiled and held up her hands before she said, ¡°I admit I might look into it. I wouldn¡¯t mind your help if I do.¡±


    After that, Meryn started talking about a few upcoming jobs she had lined up. Sereth interrupted often, translating quips and jokes for Coris. Sel briefly tried getting Kadran to talk to her about the Ashen Hand, the Darkin and this serial killer¡ªbut he only hummed distantly.


    She turned to talking with Ryn about recent contracts and city events, and before she knew it, she was embraced by the pleasant, numb warmth that came from drinking half a bottle of whiskey. Ryn excused himself after an hour or so¡ªhe wobbled dangerously as he got up, his pale face flushed and his neatly combed light brown hair slightly disheveled.


    Meryn groused about Ryn bringing up bad memories, but understood he probably didn¡¯t know about what truly happened. Somehow another hour passed, and she appeared to have finished her whiskey¡ªnow she drank from the half full wine bottle still on the table. Coris and Sereth left, preparing for some job, then Meryn did as well after one last tankard of ale.


    And so, Sel was finally alone at an empty table. Alone besides the humming and words from Kadran, which her muddled mind couldn¡¯t make sense of. She was so far gone, and when she awoke later, she wouldn¡¯t remember passing out after incoherent rambling to Kadran and sobbing, or vomiting on the floor and Bronn.


    <hr>


    ¡°Damn the stars, girl¡­¡± Bronn muttered, striding up to the slumped over Sel. His stormy gray eyes dissuaded anyone from bothering him for another round or more food as he reached her.


    He shook her gently, then a bit harder. She only mumbled something about curses and scaled bastards. Bronn sighed, but knew he couldn¡¯t leave her like this.


    He could start cutting her off when she came here. But he wouldn¡¯t. There were few ways to fix her issues¡ªhis talks hadn¡¯t worked, and cutting her off would see her wandering to rougher establishments. He pulled on his graying brown beard for a moment, contemplating the pool of vomit on the floor next to Sel.


    He waved to one of his servers to fetch a mop, then hefted Sel up off her chair, throwing her over one shoulder. He made his way to the back halls leading to the rooms he rented out, found an empty one, and went inside.


    Sel wriggled against his grip suddenly, then convulsed, vomiting again. He didn¡¯t even bother looking as it splash on the floor and seeped into the back of his tunic. Instead, he sighed deeply, shaking his head.


    He laid her on the bed, positioning her so she wouldn¡¯t choke to death if she threw up again, and placed a metal pail near her.


    Bronn studied her for a moment. Eyes ringed by dark bags. Cool olive skin disrupted by paler scars and a nasty purple tinged burn on her right cheek, leading down her neck and beyond. Black hair dull and unkempt, the sides of her head no longer shaved for whatever reason. Her face appeared sharper than ever, with high cheekbones, a narrow jaw and pointy chin that could all cut. Her cheeks were gaunt, and her already small and wiry frame was smaller, weaker than almost a year ago.


    He knew what she was going through. He knew what she was doing to herself¡ªcountless nights spent at the bottom of a bottle, the days no better. Throwing herself into danger without thought. Barely able to stomach just enough food to function.


    Bronn knew, because he¡¯d been her, once upon a time. His husband¡­


    He turned and stomped from the room, closing the door behind him. He¡¯d wake her in seven or eight hours, and he was prepared to give her yet another talk, even if it would go unheeded.

 The Weight Of Flesh

    First, of course, I needed to seek out the alchemist. After that, we acquired some...volunteers. Their deaths are regrettable, but necessary.


    <hr>


    Veera smoked a rolled leaf of terva, fuming silently at that little shit. She was late, and the eighth bell had rung almost twenty minutes ago.


    Ryn slouched against the wall surrounding the castle courtyard, fiddling with his repeating crossbow. Veera paced back and forth, almost like a caged animal, while Veldar stood in front of the gates, arms crossed and face blank.


    As another minute dragged by, Sel drifted from the smog bleeding from the Warrens. She infuriatingly said nothing to them as she nodded her hooded head at them. Veldar frowned, his hard face a mask of disapproval.


    With an incredibly emotionless voice, Veldar said, ¡°Split up and head to the Ash Lanes. We¡¯re focusing on the last three blocks in that district. I¡¯ll take the north, Ryn takes west, Veera east, and Seluna south. Do as you see fit¡ªobserve from rooftops while occasionally moving positions, patrol while remaining unseen, find individuals worthy of interrogation, and tail any Darkin cultist you find. So long as the cultists aren¡¯t alerted, we¡¯ll have an advantage.¡±


    With that, he turned and strode off into the night. Sel shared a glance with Ryn as they set off together, leaving Veera to glare after them. She walked towards Imperial Boulevard after a moment, flicking away the butt of her terva.


    While the mission was important, judging by Veldar¡¯s attitude, she was in no rush. The understated elegance of the outskirts of the Suncrest Quarter gave way to the sprawl of the Commerce Quarter, bringing the scents of industry closer¡ªbut also the scents of spices, fragrant street foods, and too many kinds of incense.


    The Imperial Boulevard and most streets she passed were packed with noisy life. Every kind of shop or business imaginable stretched out for blocks on either side of the entire length of the boulevard, stalls and street vendors set up on the on the outskirts and in alleys. Some commoners trudged through the crowds, but most of the river of people consisted of merchants, house servants or minor nobles, off duty soldiers and guards, officials from the Church and traders from all over the world.


    Veera spotted the garish red and gold wraps of Kythian spice traders, snobby-looking Kretorian lords clad in stiff, brightly colored suits of emerald, sea-green, or blue¡ªsurrounded by rough-looking sailors armed with bulky pistols. She saw gem and silk traders from the far eastern Xia Shen, clad in elegant dark robes, their unarmored guards bearing curved longswords. Even denizens from icy Norn had made the journey¡ªspecifically Hanivarans, neighbors and enemies of Sorithia, the continent¡¯s major power. They came bearing precious metals and exquisite arms and armor, all wearing expertly crafted full plate, their steel adorned with floral patterns, gold, and gems.


    People from all over Vyreon, come to bask in the wealth and glory of Vyranthas, the capital of the eastern province of the Aurevian Empire. They came to unload goods for decent silver, and head back to their lands laden with cloth, alchemical mixtures, rare and special metals or specially made steel and more.


    They were all fools. Then again, so was she.


    Veera made it to the entrance of the closest avenue leading to the walled in Warrens, but paused, eyeing a nearby food stall. She could go for some food and ale.


    She approached the man at the makeshift grill behind the wooden stall, slapping some silver on the counter to grab his attention. She glanced at his poorly written menu, enjoying the smell of the spiced beef and vegetables the man cooked.


    ¡°Just give me a sandwich and tankard of ale,¡± she drawled, leaning her left arm against the counter.


    In less than a minute, he pushed a paper wrapped sandwich and her drink toward her. With no sense of decorum, Veera horked it down in a few moments, to the man¡¯s amazement. It was spicy, but the meat and vegetables had been covered in a sweet, delicious sauce. She washed it down with bitter, crappy ale, and left the tankard there before heading for the Warrens.


    The crowds didn¡¯t lighten as shops became warehouses, the high walls of the Warrens rising up through the smog. She ignored the host of garrison guards harassing commoners trying to get home, and entered the Warrens.


    Warehouses stretched on for a few blocks until they stopped, replaced by the Bellows, the massive crescent of industry that poisoned the city. She hurried through here, annoyed at the particularly acrid smog tonight. Alchemical refineries, forges, and countless other forms of progress and industry belched black smoke and sickly sweet fumes into the night, accompanied by a mess of banging, hissing, bubbling and other odd sounds.


    It wasn¡¯t long before she took some side streets, weaving toward the Ash Lanes, deeper into the quarter. Tenements rose up like drunken wraiths through the smog, leaning and crumbling haphazardly. She considered heading straight to the depths of the Ash Lanes, the stretch of half rebuilt blocks of tenements, but thought better of it.


    Ten minutes of pushing through the crowds later, she reached a rundown tavern, set inside the burnt shell of a tenement just inside the Ash Lanes. Rowdy laughter and drunken singing came from within¡ªthe Tipsy Husk was a crap tavern, with ale that was always stale, but she was here for an acquaintance.


    ¡°Desil, you void-touched bastard!¡± Veera called out, seeing the man smoking a pipe behind the bar counter. The broad man laughed and waved her over.


    She approached, taking a seat at a barrel near the counter. Desil was as scummy as they came, but he owed her. The dark skinned, heavyset man had distant Kretorian heritage, judging from his narrow eyes and wide features. His shaved scalp gleamed in the dim light, his craggy face rather unpleasant to look at.Love this story? Find the genuine version on the author''s preferred platform and support their work!


    ¡°What are ya drinking, Veera?¡± Desil rumbled, a grin half hidden behind his thick black beard. He held out a long, still smoldering wooden pipe.


    ¡°I¡¯ll take a double of starshine, and some information.¡± She placed two silver coins on the counter, giving him a feral, toothy smile as she took the pipe.


    ¡°Ah come on, I can¡¯t be giving intel to guild assassins again,¡± he muttered, moving to pour liquor into a small cup.


    Veera pulled from the pipe before responding. The smoke was sweet, smooth and much stronger than terva, but after a moment, she raggedly coughed out some smoke. Desil handed her the cup as he took back his pipe.


    ¡°Fireleaf is good, no? The coughing means it¡¯s working,¡± he chuckled, smoking from the pipe.


    ¡°I need to know about any Darkin cultist presence in the last few blocks of the Lanes, Desil.¡±


    He scowled and said, ¡°Ya still think I owe you for that, do ya?¡±


    Veera pointed a finger at him and growled, ¡°You have the best spy network in these parts, and yes, you still owe me for saving you from a bloody end by the Scorched.¡±


    ¡°But it was so long ago¡ª¡±


    ¡°It was two months ago!¡±


    Desil glowered at her. She glared right back. When he sighed and leaned closer, she shot back the starshine¡ªthe clear liquor was almost as bad as Vornish swill.


    ¡°Fine, but I didn¡¯t tell you anything, understand? Search for Brother Jorrik, Harlan and Liss the Fang. They¡¯re probably exposed to that cult far more than me,¡± Desil muttered, dark eyes scanning the room.


    Veera just smiled, thumped him on the arm, and left. All three of the people were Ash Lane dwellers, and she knew just where to find them.


    <hr>


    Not twenty minutes later Veera skulked in a murky alley, growing more amused with each second. Liss the Fang¡ªnotorious thief and a scamp of a teenager¡ªscurried down an unnamed side street, garrison guards a few dozen paces behind. The girl almost tripped and dropped the bag she clutched, too busy looking back instead of where she was stepping.


    When she neared the alley, Veera shot out, grabbed her with both arms, and pulled her deep into the alley. She clamped her left hand over the youth¡¯s mouth before she could shout, and waited.


    It didn¡¯t take long for the guards to jog by, their armor as noisy as their voices. They didn¡¯t catch sight of the pair in the alley, and they moved on quickly. Liss bit her hand, earning her a slap to the head.


    Veera spun her around and picked her up by the back of her cloak. Once their eyes were level, she stopped squirming.


    ¡°Why, hi there Veera. Weird seeing you here,¡± Liss said with a sheepish grin. The pale, skinny youth was clearly scared.


    ¡°Stop your shaking, Liss. It¡¯s not like you tried to steal my coin pouch this time,¡± Veera sneered. ¡°Desil said you might know something about the Darkin.¡±


    ¡°Well¡­¡®know¡¯ is a strong term. I don¡¯t know about them, but I did run across them a few weeks ago.¡±


    ¡°And?¡± Veera shook her a bit, rolling her eyes.


    ¡°Well, they¡¯ve been snatching up commoners in the district¡ªthough just as many are joining them willingly. I barely escaped from a few of those robed bastards one night, though my friend wasn¡¯t as lucky,¡± Liss said, brown eyes distant and fearful.


    ¡°I¡¯m gonna assume you didn¡¯t see where they¡¯re taking people. Thanks kid.¡± Veera set her on the ground and strode off.


    ¡°Make them pay, when you do find them!¡± Liss called after her.


    She wove through several alleys and winding side streets before spotting Harlan outside of a collapsing tenement that hadn¡¯t even been finished yet. He had a few thugs posted around the nearly empty street, but they didn¡¯t stop her as she approached the grizzled man.


    Before anyone spoke, the retired garrison guard turned smuggler lit two rolled leafs of terva, handing one to Veera. She took it with a nod of gratitude, puffing on it as she joined him on a nearby crate. This leaf was higher quality stuff than what she usually managed to buy.


    ¡°What brings you to this crappy district, Veera?¡± Harlan asked, voice hoarse and low. The tan man had an average soldier¡¯s build, though he¡¯d traded in his armor for a tunic too fine for the setting. His black hair was cut short, and a scar ran across his face and left eye, the pale line disrupted by the black eye patch he wore.


    ¡°Tell me you have something on the Darkin. I¡¯m hunting them tonight.¡±


    ¡°Ah, shit man. Don¡¯t go asking me about those cultists,¡± he said with a laugh, smoke leaking from his broad nose.


    ¡°Come on Harlan, I¡¯m sure it¡¯d benefit you. You¡¯re saying that the cult who¡¯s been recruiting and kidnapping, killing people and other weird shit around the Ash Lanes hasn¡¯t affected your operation at all?¡± Veera pressed, savoring the rich smoke as she eyed him.


    He sighed through his nose and said, ¡°Fine, you arse. They¡¯ve messed with some of my men here and there, but mostly they took over or collapsed some of our tunnels through the district.¡±


    ¡°Anything else?¡±


    ¡°Sure, don¡¯t know if it¡¯ll help though. A few months back, we kept feeling tremors in one of our furthest tunnels, one that¡¯s under Feis street,¡± he said with a shrug.


    She rose to leave, but turned and said, ¡°Thanks, that helped actually. And I¡¯ll be back to buy some of that terva.¡±


    Veera drifted down the street, considering what he¡¯d said. Feis street was on the very last block of the Ash Lanes. Good chance that the Darkin base was around there, tunneling into the ground beneath some tenement.


    Dread blossomed within her as she neared her final contact. Why¡¯d it have to be the unsettling, self proclaimed preacher. She¡¯d only met him once before, but that¡¯d been more than enough for her.


    She braced herself, then entered the shabby soup kitchen. She ignored the long tables of desperate, hungry commoners and headed to the pot laden table at the back of the room. The ¡®preacher¡¯ bustled about, cleaning up.


    Brother Jorrik paused, an eerie grin spreading across his almost skeletal face as he said, ¡°Sister¡­Veera was it? Welcome! Have you come to join our nightly prayers to Aureon?¡±


    Veera scowled at him, puffing out a stream of smoke at his face. Most people in her line of work¡ªespecially those like her¡ªtended to know religion for what it was. A tool or a crutch. This man, who had no ties to the Church of Ascendant Light, was no different from the rest.


    ¡°You know I didn¡¯t. Tell me what you can about the Darkin cult in the Lanes¡­or I can think of a few people who¡¯d be interested to know of your little sect here, and how you use it as cover for your drug dealings.¡± Veera leaned close to the scrawny, white robed man, studying his pale brown eyes.


    ¡°No need for that, sister,¡± he said, grimacing and holding up his hands. ¡°No one needs to hear of that. The Darkin¡­those blasphemers. They¡¯ve enticed some of my flock with promises of power and the love of some pale shadow of a god. I¡¯ve heard of some odd things happening near the Shattered Circle¡ªyou may want to look into that area.¡±


    ¡°The Shattered Circle?¡± Veera asked, ignoring his aggravated gestures and furious expression.


    ¡°A section of the last stretch of the Ash Lanes where a dozen or so tenements recently collapsed. There¡¯s a few untouched buildings at the center, but the area is mostly walled in now.¡±


    Veera nodded, leaving the man without a word, mind distracted. If she were a secretive cult, that area would be where she¡¯d settle. It was time to do a bit of observation before she sought out the rest of the group.

 Wretched Ruminations

    They¡¯re still perfecting our masterpiece, but all the other pieces have been falling into place. The city is falling to ruin, and it will be born anew, as I was.


    <hr>


    After Sel and Ryn split off from the others, they went their own separate ways once they cleared the Bellows. While she wouldn¡¯t mind working with him, his intel gathering methods were a bit different than hers¡ªhe was a fan of getting close and personal, slipping under people¡¯s guards with an amiable air and a sly smile. Sel didn¡¯t love observing targets from afar, but it was far preferable than acting like Ryn.


    Perhaps you should keep a clear head for this mission, Sel, Kadran hummed.


    A flask appeared in her hand, and she greedily drank whiskey from it before she responded, If I did, I¡¯d end up useless and far more distracted, lizard. Trust me.


    As they wove through the Warrens, keeping to alleys and shadows, Kadran sent a pulse of annoyance and said, You are impossible.


    And you¡¯re a hog, Kadran.


    That¡¯s hardly a good or accurate insult. When have you ever seen me scarf something down or roll in mud?


    Irrelevant. Sel stopped at one of the newer wooden tenements, then pulled on her Bond.


    Theurgy, bright and electric, surged into her. It took longer than usual¡ªshe didn¡¯t practice much these days¡ªbut she focused. The air warped around her hands, silver crystal coalescing from her skin. She flexed her new, sturdy claws of hardlight, and dug them into the wall.


    The climb was easy and quick, taking less than a minute to scale the five story tall building. She took a moment to survey the ugly city. This high up, the twin Celestial Belts shone through thin clouds above. Their violet and silver light painted the sea of smog and tenements surrounding her. The five gleaming marble and crystal Lightsworn spires rose impossibly high to the north, in their own secluded quarter at the highest point of the city.


    Sel started across the rooftops at a relaxed pace, clearing most gaps between the buildings with ease. Those that rose higher, she simply clawed her way up. The exercise distracted her from Kadran¡¯s constant humming and her own annoying thoughts.


    Interesting¡­I could¡¯ve sworn I sensed Veldar nearby, not long ago, Kadran hummed sharply, like claws pressing into her brain.


    Not surprising. I¡¯m sure he¡¯s going to watch the rest of the team all night, when he¡¯s not ruining some thug¡¯s life, she thought. The severe man had little faith in most people.


    The minutes bled by in a haze, then suddenly she was atop a crumbling tenement in the third to last block of the Lanes. The building was just a burned shell, only two stories of it left standing. It gave her a decent view of the crossroads below, and the length of several streets.


    Sel pulled out a small spyglass, settled down near a broken window, and scanned the streets. A few commoners scurried through the smog, but otherwise she just spotted the occasional thug or garrison guard.


    Ten minutes later she was already bored out of her mind, but her boredom was alleviated as she noticed some figures in the shadows of the crossroads. A shift of a black cloth here, a glint of metal there¡ªthe Crow¡¯s enforcers lurked there.


    They acted as silent sentries, which explained the lack of crime on these streets. Thugs and thieves took one look at their leering corvid skulls and hooked claws, then hurried on their way. She didn¡¯t know if they used some specialized drug or chemtech apparatus like some of the other new gangs, but wisps of black smoke leaked from their metal corvid skull helmets every so often.


    Look there, to the left. Garrison captain approaching with some underlings. Kadran sent a slight pulse of alarm, which pulled her gaze to where he focused on.


    The captain did indeed stride down the street with four spearmen in tow¡ªand he was heading straight for one member of The Murder. Likely some minor noble, the man wore a nasal helm, a light steel breastplate over chainmail and thick cloth, and had a hand on the pommel of the shortsword at his hip. She could see the look of disgust on his face as he surveyed his surroundings.


    The captain reached the uniformed and masked enforcer. They exchanged some words while the spearmen hovered nearby uncomfortably. The enforcer was given a pouch, and the garrison guards marched away a moment later.


    Using a criminal organization as extra guards? Desperate, she thought. She pulled out a nasty ration bar to gnaw on.


    Quite. The recent desertions and uprisings in nearby villages must¡¯ve hit them hard. Explains their recruitment drives the last few months. Kadran was much more curious about it than her.


    Who would want to join the garrison anyway? Instead of guarding the people, their leadership and the nobility have been letting the Sovereigns and other criminal elements flourish. They continue to grow in power and flood the city with drugs, while people in power just smile and line their pockets, she thought.


    It¡¯s fascinating. I doubt this odd ecosystem is part of Aureon¡¯s vision. A delicate balancing act, where removing any major criminal element could invite even more disorder. I suppose that includes the Darkin¡ªthey¡¯ve just been causing more issues for the Church lately.


    Oh they¡¯ve been causing issues alright. But I think you underestimate the zealotry of the light-blinded. I¡¯ve read tidbits of history from other kingdoms around the world. I can guess how this plays out. Sel tried to remember the texts, but it¡¯d been several months since she¡¯d been able to bring herself to read. Once her favorite past time next to collecting teas, she could barely bring herself to care about it now.


    Oh? Enlighten me, wise and studious one, Kadran hummed flatly.


    The only religion allowed, stamping out any hints of other beliefs. The Darkin is the largest cult I¡¯ve ever heard of in the Empire, and some commoners¡ªeven soldiers and nobility¡ªmight truly believe whatever they¡¯re preaching. Crushing them with ever increasing force might just make people flock to them more.


    Ah. I could see that happening. I won¡¯t pretend to understand the Imperial faith, but I know the religion is pushed on everyone. It wouldn¡¯t take much to sway someone away from the forced beliefs and harsh religious leadership, Kadran said. She could practically feel his mind churning as he thought about the possible consequences of this mission.


    That¡¯d been another thing that filled her thoughts these last ten months. For nearly thirteen years, Sel had been raised by the High Matron to be the perfect tool, the perfect killer. Forced to Bond Kadran at a young age, she¡¯d completed countless contracts for the Heaven¡¯s Flame guild. It wasn¡¯t until last year that she started considering the consequences and fallout from her endless, usually bloody work.


    She was, in a sense, responsible for the current state of the city. She¡¯d dismantled the powerful Starhowl gang, who wielded foreign Sorithian Scaleforged weapons. Their sudden absence left an immense power vacuum that needed filling, letting the Alchemical Sovereigns rise to power in the underground. That made smaller gangs scramble to keep ahold of their territory, though some, like the Scorched or Harpists, have been gleefully participating in open warfare across the Warrens.


    The mercantile Charter Houses were in disarray, mere shades of their former selves. Three prominent merchant families in their ranks had been eradicated, after they broke contract to try and kill her in revenge for the Crimson Auction massacre that occurred years back.


    The garrison withered over the last year, after she made sure House Valorinth¡¯s sterling reputation was in the gutters, in retribution for kidnapping her first and last love. The guard contracts had shifted from Valorinth to less effective houses, though they were still involved with the Imperial Military to a degree.If you come across this story on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen from Royal Road. Please report it.


    Even that noble¡¯s death at her hands¡ªTherron, she thought his name had been¡ªhad consequences besides her near death and subsequent hellish existence afterwards. Sometimes she thought about the moments leading up to the explosion, and the time after.


    The corrupted, unnatural Abyssal Starborn tearing its way into the physical realm to curl around the noble¡¯s corpse. The writhing shadows just before the explosion of violet-black flames. Isslier saving her with some accursed drugs and operations, at the behest of Elara. The distorted hell of instability and hallucinations that had followed.


    She hadn¡¯t been the only one affected by the man¡¯s death. The Church had used the heretic as a means of fear and control. They increased raids on innocent¡¯s to look for heresy, publicly executed those ¡®corrupted by darkness¡¯, and somehow managed to drive religious fervor into some of the populace.


    Her rather new favored pastime of drinking muddled her memories¡ªtoo many contracts forgotten, their consequences forgotten as well, even though they found her eventually. Her mind wandered to the biggest disaster that came from her hand, besides the two innocent¡¯s she killed last year.


    The murder of Lightsworn Celestine, after she¡¯d killed his wife on accident.


    He had been the weakest on the council of five that rules the province from this city¡ªheaded by Grand Lightsworn Astrael¡ªand it turned out she regretted ending him. The highborn bastard happened to be the only one working for the people, in his own twisted way.


    He¡¯d been funding gangs and rebels across the region, bringing in Scaleforged weapons to arm those like the Starhowls. Several Lightsworn and Church officials colluded with him to push rebels to action, hamstring major trade and military operations by helping Vornish savages raid the coasts, and who knows what else. All in an attempt to broker change, and the betterment of the lives of commoners.


    And she¡¯d killed him on guild orders.


    The guilty Lightsworn and officials had examples made of them, and a new one joined the council. Since Celestine¡¯s death, their overall power rose from simply massive, to eclipsing all. They ruled the province as the chosen of the Ascendant, but they were nothing more than glorified nobles. She wasn¡¯t quite sure what they did in their political games, or with their power, but it certainly wasn¡¯t protecting the dregs of society.


    She shook herself from her ruminations, realizing she¡¯d set down her spyglass to simply gaze into the swirling, dark gray smog. Kadran had fallen silent, but she could feel his presence pressing down on her mind. He¡¯d apparently been raptly eavesdropping on her, the scaly fool.


    It¡¯s been about an hour, Sel. The tenth bell rang not long ago. Don¡¯t worry¡ªyou haven¡¯t missed much, Kadran intoned, acting disinterested in her thoughts.


    ¡°Remind me not to drift off into my mind again, space lizard. Too unpleasant,¡± she muttered, taking a swing from one of her several flasks. The whiskey made heat bloom within her, fighting off the night¡¯s chill.


    Sel stood, muscles stiff and sore. She wasn¡¯t going to find a trace of the Darkin around the Crow¡¯s enforcers, or sticking to this part of the Lanes.


    It didn¡¯t take long to reach the poorly paved street, Sel becoming one of the many shadows there as she slipped past the enforcers. She kept to alleys as she erratically drifted through several blocks. The ambiance remained the same: sections of newer wooden tenements crammed next to stretches of older, burnt-out shells, uneven streets coated in thick layers of ash and debris, and the scent of old smoke that clung to everything. It looked more like a blaze came through here just weeks ago, rather than months.


    She jerked to a stop, pausing at the lip of her alley. She did a bit of a double take, catching sight of a flutter of dark, violet trimmed robes disappearing around the corner of an alley not that far from her own.


    Sel hurried across the street and into the alley¡ªand again, all she saw was a dark figure hastening away. She gave chase, groaning as the figure quickened their pace. After a few more alleys, the pair were fully sprinting now, kicking up ash, their footsteps muffled by the smothering smog.


    It took her nearly ten minutes and three blocks to catch up to them. The robed figure slowed as they reached an alley with a dead end. She stopped, less than twenty feet from him, caging him into the alley.


    They turned to her, then lowered their hood. An unremarkable, gaunt looking man stared at her. Just some commoner, it would seem.


    ¡°Sister Seluna¡­to be graced by the shade hiding beneath the light. It¡¯s an honor! We would be blessed if you joined us,¡± he said in kind tones, a soft smile on his pale face.


    What could that possibly even mean? Kadran hissed, unsettled.


    Don¡¯t know. That Darkin priest from last year must¡¯ve told his followers some horseshit or another. Sel strode forward slowly, edging closer to the fool.


    ¡°I don¡¯t know what you¡¯re on about, pal. You lot have been pissing off the Church lately. Stupid move,¡± Sel said, trying to get a rise from the man.


    ¡°Forget those heathens¡ªthose betrayers!¡± His face twisted in fury, but only for a moment. He went on calmly, ¡°Those hypocrites will learn of the love we hold for them. Even if they¡¯re the true heretics, we will show them the way. The Dark Star will rise again, and they will rid humanity of their pain. Wouldn¡¯t you like that, Seluna? Don¡¯t you tire of bearing that crushing pain, that loss? Wouldn¡¯t you like true purpose, instead of staying mired in your doubts and scars?¡±


    Sel was ten feet away now, but she grew rigid and still as the man spoke beguilingly. She was sick of the pain¡ªshe was nothing but a frail shadow who drowned herself in liquor, just so she could numb that pain. Just so the hallucinations of monsters and Elara were kept at bay. She was so tired. Elara¡ª


    She took a step forward as she snarled at the cultist¡ªactually snarled like an enraged beast¡ªand said, ¡°Shut the hell up, don¡¯t try and pretend you or any of your cult know me or my fucking pain.¡±


    ¡°Oh, but we do know, Seluna. We know. The Darkin consist of equal parts sages and scholars, working for a better future, and broken wretches who want that beautiful future,¡± the bald, smiling man said. ¡°We are all so, so broken, sister. Ground to ash by Aureon and his ilk. We all have loved and lost and hurt just like you. We are kin, in a way.¡±


    For some reason, she faltered, memories cutting through her hazy mind. She squashed those down, trembling¡ªcouldn¡¯t afford to feel that always present pain. Sel took another few steps forward, her sharp, angular face set in a mask of ice and steel. One wouldn¡¯t look at her and label her as wroth, given her stiff movements and blank expression¡ªbut the air around her almost vibrated with the barely contained rage.


    Rage at herself, mostly.


    ¡°Calm yourself, sister. Just give the true way a chance. Come with me, listen to our sermons.¡± He held one calloused hand up, still smiling that damned smile. His face and voice were subtle, forgettable.


    She¡¯d end him now, lest she failed to find the fool later among crowds of forgettable faces.


    Sel¡¯s weapons whispered from their sheathes as she dashed forward, plumes of ash shooting out behind her. In poor form, she threw herself straight at the man, the slim shortsword in her right hand thrusting for his heart.


    Careful Sel¡ª Kadran¡¯s hissed warning cut off.


    The cultist sidestepped the thrust, then delivered a fist to her gut.


    She reeled back, falling to one knee as she involuntarily vomited up burning bile and liquor.


    The man¡¯s speed was on par with her own, and the blow delivered with surprising power. He hadn¡¯t been some simple commoner before donning those robes.


    ¡°Your pain dims your greatness sister. You could be fighting for something righteous, instead of¡ª¡±


    She leapt at him, dagger and shortsword flickering in a complex pattern of sweeps and thrusts, each missing the quick man as he danced about in swishing robes.


    ¡°Stand still so I can stab you, you rotten bastard,¡± Sel growled, spinning forward and cleaving the air where he¡¯d just been standing.


    His right hand¡ªwatch out! Kadran sent a sharp pulse of alarm through their Bond.


    Her assault faltered as the cultist knocked aside her sword with one hand as he darted forward. With his right, he held a slim spike of bone, aimed right for the center of her chest.


    She twisted awkwardly, stumbling away from the strike. The smiling man missed, gouging a jagged line across her left forearm. The pain didn¡¯t even register to Sel as adrenaline pounded through her.


    It was her turn to dance. She ducked and wove around the man¡¯s precise strikes, barely able to keep up with his movements. If she could just disarm him¡­


    She let him get close, waiting for the next thrust. When it came, she brought her starsteel dagger up, slashing at the spike.


    The weapons connected, and time slowed for Sel.


    The slender, smooth spike had runes carved into it. Violet light flared from it as her blade cracked the spike. The cultist smiled wider as he released the spike and jumped back, faster than she could react.


    The falling spike exploded, a ball of violet tinged black flame expanding from the bone after a fraction of a second.


    She fell to her knees, cowering before it. On reflex, a rough shield of silver, crystalline hardlight grew to protect her, though the explosion wasn¡¯t large.


    She collapsed on the ash covered stone, dark brown eyes wild as she trembled. Seconds bled by, her heart beating against her chest as if trying to escape. Those damned flames¡ª


    Sel. Sel! Kadran hummed, finally cutting through her distress. The cultist has been gone for almost thirty minutes. The spike exploded, but it wasn¡¯t that powerful. You¡¯re safe, Sel.


    She blinked, struggling to her feet after a few seconds. She forcibly made the trembling subside, digging her nails into the flesh of her palm until she drew blood.


    Sel slumped against the alley wall, fishing out her flask with unsteady fingers. The whiskey burned going down, but it helped steady her nerves.


    You should rest, Kadran hummed, too soft and musical. That cultist clearly meant to¡ª


    ¡°To what? Get in my head?¡± Sel took another long drink. ¡°Well it worked. Bastard knew exactly what to say.¡±


    A pause stretched between them, filled only by the distant noise of the city and the drifting ash settling around her.


    His skill was on par with your own. Professionally trained. Kadran¡¯s presence pressed harder against her mind, almost protective. And that weapon¡­he wasn¡¯t trying to kill you, just impale you with it.


    ¡°Maybe.¡± Sel pushed off from the wall, swaying slightly. ¡°Guess we should wander a little more, then find Veldar. Share this lovely bit of intel about bone spikes that explode into¡­¡± She trailed off, jaw clenching.


    Into the flames that haunt your dreams? Kadran offered flatly.


    ¡°Shut up, lizard.¡± But there was no bite to it. She started walking, letting her feet carry her through the writhing shadows of the Lanes. The alcohol dulled everything to a bearable haze¡ªthe memories, the fear, even Kadran¡¯s concerned humming in the back of her mind.


    She had work to do. The rest could wait.

 Artisan Of Agony

    For Vyranthas to be reborn, it requires something as¡­twisted as it is. A product of the hell it breeds. Not to mention someone who truly cares.


    <hr>


    As soon as Veldar was out of sight of his team, he waited, dwelling in the shadows of a bakery just outside of the Suncrest Quarter. After a minute, he doubled back to tail Veera.


    To avoid the crowds he decided to scale a nearby shop. From there, Veera¡¯s bulk was easy to track. He stayed nearly parallel to her, finding her slow pace distasteful. His frown was hidden in the shadows of his hood as she stopped.


    Right. She was just getting food and ale.


    Veldar moved on¡ªher process wasn¡¯t worth watching, and she was perhaps the most dependable of his team. Which wasn¡¯t saying much.


    He quickly made his way across the roofs of shops, then warehouses. The large wall enclosing the Warrens was hardly an obstacle. Massive warehouses sat too close to certain sections, allowing him to vault through the air, catch the top of the wall, and stand up on the foot wide perch.


    From there, he leapt. He sailed through the air with unnatural grace, covering more distance than any normal man could. He landed on the roof of yet another warehouse, skidding against the sloped gray tiles.


    It only took a minute to catch up to Sel, who scurried through the dismal Warrens like a rat. He trailed her through a web of alleys and tenements, then across rooftops¡ªthough he had to fall back so he wouldn¡¯t alert her Starborn.


    He watched her settle into a ruined building. After some guards interacted with the Crow¡¯s thugs below, she grew visibly distracted. Eventually she climbed down to the street and set off again in a nonsensical pattern. He decided to let her go¡ªhe had his own work to do.


    A quick glance at the several corvid masked thugs stationed around the crossroads told him their commander wasn¡¯t among them. He would be last on his list, then.


    <hr>


    ¡°You haven¡¯t even asked anything yet!¡± Rene howled, struggling against Veldar¡¯s grip. He was Desil¡¯s cousin, and a popular enforcer around the Lanes.


    Veldar didn¡¯t respond. He had Rene held against the ground, legs twisted around him, letting him use them for leverage as he pulled on his left arm. The man was muscled and an experienced fighter, but that didn¡¯t matter against Veldar.


    He gently gripped Rene¡¯s index finger, bending it slowly. He tuned out the man¡¯s pleas, as did the rest of the Lanes outside of this dirty alley. He bent it a bit further, then snapped it with a jerk.


    Soundless screaming and struggling came from Rene.


    He started on the middle finger. Moments later it too gave a loud crack as he broke it in a way that maximized the pain. Only now did he pause, Rene¡¯s thumb gripped tight.


    ¡°I know you¡¯ve been smuggling things for the Darkin. Tell me where their base in the Ash Lanes are,¡± Veldar intoned, no hint of emotion in his voice.


    ¡°I swear on my ma¡¯s grave, or, or Aureon! I don¡¯t¡ª¡±


    He broke Rene¡¯s thumb, momentarily tuning out his shrill screams. Once the struggling stopped, he gripped his arm, twisting to the point just before breaking the wrist.


    ¡°Their base, movements¡ªanything would save your life right now. Think hard.¡±


    ¡°No! Fuck the stars man, I¡­they just meet me in the older parts of the tunnels under the district! Connected to the sewers!¡± Rene cried out.


    Veldar broke his wrist, then gave him a full minute to simmer down. Once the screams subsided, he said, ¡°Not quite what I was looking for. Is that all you can provide?¡±


    ¡°Yes! Yes I don¡¯t know anything else!¡± Rene said, devolving into a whimpering mess.


    He considered the man¡¯s words. Best not to waste too much time with this human debris.


    A slim dagger appeared in Veldar¡¯s right hand. Without a word he slammed it cleanly into the back of Rene¡¯s skull.


    He picked himself up, taking a moment to clean the ash and dirt clinging to his cloak. Veldar barely glanced at the twitching corpse as he retrieved his dagger, then moved off into the night.This story originates from a different website. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.


    <hr>


    After a quick, deadly set of conversations with a handful of thugs, thieves, spies posing as beggars and other lowlifes, he finally came across the person he¡¯d been searching for. Most of his other talks hadn¡¯t resulted in much¡ªbesides some brief amusement at two men professing their devotion to The Dark Star before meeting their end.


    A lieutenant of The Murder hovered in the alley below Veldar, talking quietly with one of his men. He couldn¡¯t make out their words from his perch, but it was clear the taller man on the left was the leader here. Both wore the same exact gear: stiff black long coats buttoned up the middle with bone shards, black trousers of the same material, shiny black boots, steel corvid skull masks, and claws on their hands with three long, hooked blades. Several minutes passed before the underling hurried off.


    Veldar dropped down, hurtling toward the lieutenant feet first. The four stories of the tenement he¡¯d been on blurred by, wind whistling in his ears and blowing his cloak out behind him.


    The enforcer cocked his head, twisted, and looked up. He managed to raise an arm to block Veldar¡¯s powerful kick¡ªthe man didn¡¯t even flinch. Streams of deep black smoke started trailing from the shadowed depths of the corvid skull covering his face.


    Veldar kicked off the arm, landing with a flutter of his cloak almost ten feet away. The scarred, aged assassin shrugged back his cloak, revealing his hard, plain face and short gray hair, chiseled arms, a tall and muscled physique, dark clothes and fine leather armor.


    The lieutenant¡¯s head stayed tilted as he stared at the assassin. He probably knew of Veldar to some extent.


    The enforcer moved first, bounding forward with unnatural speed. Veldar was forced to jump back and draw both daggers as the man swiped at him with hooked steel claws. This caught him off guard, but only slightly. His thoughts were detached from the furious exchange of strikes and parries.


    He¡¯d expected the alchemical enhancements, of course. The Crow kept her men addicted to Corvidin, a substance that increased one¡¯s speed, reflexes and sensations¡ªpain included. Veldar hadn¡¯t expected his foe to be so skilled though, and they were locked in a brief stalemate. But men like this relied too heavily on their alchemical mixtures, instead of perfecting their natural skill.


    The alley was a haze of kicked up ash and smog, the only light coming from the sparks their weapons produced. The lieutenant was a flurry of steel claws, the bottom half of his long coat whipping about him. Veldar didn¡¯t even break a sweat, simply meeting each blow while staring him down, face like a carved stone mask.


    There.


    His left dagger finally found an opening, and he drove it into the man¡¯s left arm, twisting it. The arm fell limp and useless as he still tried to strike Veldar with his other hand.


    He shifted, caught the arm, then brought a dagger hilt down hard, breaking it at the elbow with a crunch.


    The screams echoing out from the corvid skull went ignored as his foe stumbled back a few steps. Black smoke poured from the mask now, and started billowing out when Veldar kicked the man¡¯s left leg at just the right angle, sending him crashing down.


    Veldar calmly moved to straddle the panicked man. He sheathed his dagger, then grabbed the other one still in the man¡¯s arm. He twisted once before tearing it free. The struggling ceased after a dozen moments.


    ¡°I know that your master, the Crow, has dealings with the Darkin. Tell me what you know, and where their base in this district is,¡± Veldar said, grasping the corvid skull¡¯s beak with his free hand.


    ¡°Go take a dive off the spires, bastard,¡± the thug said hoarsely, through gritted teeth and groans of pain.


    Veldar pulled at the mask¡ªreally almost a helmet. The leather straps holding it in place strained. The man beneath him stilled.


    ¡°I can¡¯t! The Crow will¡ª¡±


    With a grunt of effort, he ripped the mask off. Tubing leading to an odd mechanism grafted onto the man¡¯s nose snapped free. He instantly started to writhe below him, brown eyes wide in terror.


    ¡°Try once more,¡± Veldar said flatly, holding the mask above the man. Smoke still streamed from it, dissipating into the air.


    ¡°The Shattered Circle! Last block of the Lanes! They¡¯re there, I swear just give me my mask!¡± His scarred, flat face was crazed, desperate.


    Veldar let the moments pass by, watching him squirm. The man started trembling and hacking up something foul after a minute passed. The withdrawal of the drug was hitting the man in full force.


    Since the man offered nothing else, Veldar sheathed his dagger, then dismantled the mask as best he could, ripping out internal mechanisms, wires, tubes and the reservoir of black sludge. He threw the trash aside.


    The man lay limp, gaze listless. He knew what came next. What happened to addicts of this particular drug once they were deprived of it was truly unpleasant to behold. He¡¯d drown in his own blood within minutes.


    It was time to gather his team.


    <hr>


    It only took an hour to hunt down Ryn and Veera¡ªSel was a little trickier. But by two in the morning, he had them gathered on top of a collapsing stone and wood tenement. This area held many such buildings, remnants of decades old housing, yet to be rebuilt after the rather recent fire, and the riots brought forth during the plague.  The debrief was short and sweet, affirming what Veldar found on his own.


    Their perch was directly outside of the so-called Shattered Circle, just high enough to see over most of the collapsed buildings and rubble. Inside the rough circle of destruction sat three sizable tenements of stone, though two were in poor shape. The five story tall tenement in the center was dark, its broken windows appearing like jagged, gaping maws.


    ¡°We¡¯re ahead of schedule. Judging from everything we¡¯ve found, that¡¯s the base,¡± Veldar said, gesturing at the ruined circle of tenements.


    ¡°Still¡­doesn¡¯t look like much,¡± Sel muttered.


    ¡°That¡¯s what my last partner said, don¡¯t remind me,¡± Ryn said flatly, messing with his crossbow. Sel stifled an annoying laugh and jabbed the fool.


    ¡°Sel, Veera. Split up and keep watch. Take note of any Darkin activity. Ryn will go inform the High Matron, while I fetch Lightward Cassian and his men. Expect us back within two hours.¡± Veldar gave them an icy look before nodding to Ryn. In moments the two bounded away across the rooftops.


    Veldar felt a rare pulse of uneasiness, but pushed it down.