Chapter 11: Sparks and Stumbles

Chapter 11: Sparks and Stumbles

Silvia's POV

Ashen Hold was overwhelming.

After weeks of traveling through desolate ruins, the sheer density of life within the city-state was almost too much to process. The streets were alive with noise—merchants hawking their wares, armored enforcers patrolling on clanking mechanical beasts, and the scent of sizzling meat and burning coal thick in the air.

Silvia had barely taken three steps past the gates when Dragon grabbed her wrist, pulling her to the side before a runaway auto-cart nearly flattened her.

"Eyes up, sweetheart," he murmured, his breath warm against her ear. "Wouldn't want to lose my favorite firecracker on our first night in civilization."

Silvia scowled, yanking her wrist free. "I was not about to get hit."

Dragon's smirk deepened. "Right. You just enjoy flirting with imminent death."

She groaned, shoving past him and heading deeper into the city.

The Structure of the World

Ashen Hold was one of the more stable city-states, ruled by a council of ranked officials rather than a single leader. It had managed to survive in a world where humanity had fractured after the great emergence—the cataclysm that forced the monsters to the surface and toppled entire nations.

Now, society was divided into structured classes, each with their own role and privileges. The ranking system followed a strict nine-tier hierarchy:

Rank 1-2: Civilians – The laborers, merchants, farmers, and factory workers who form the foundation of society. They have minimal rights and little say in governance.

Rank 3-4: Technicians & Scholars – Engineers, scientists, researchers, and those who work to maintain remnants of old-world technology and magic-infused machinery.

Rank 5: Enforcers – The city-state guards, hired bounty hunters, and security forces tasked with keeping law and order in the settlements.

Rank 6: Elite Enforcers & Tacticians – Officers and skilled combatants, often assigned leadership roles in law enforcement or mercenary divisions.

Rank 7: Commanders & Strategists – Those responsible for military efforts, infrastructure, and major decision-making within city-states.

Rank 8: Governors & Corporate Leaders – The ruling class of city-states, often individuals backed by wealth or military prowess.

Rank 9: High Council & Supreme Authorities – The highest governing power, a select few who dictate laws and oversee the fate of entire regions.

Beyond the cities, the world was chaos. Ruins stretched endlessly, claimed by monsters or lawless bands of scavengers. Many of the settlements that still stood functioned as corporate-owned fortresses where profit mattered more than human life.

The further you traveled from the city-states, the deeper you wandered into the unclaimed lands—territories overrun by beasts, Terran insurgents, or things far worse.

And Silvia had a sinking feeling that wherever she went, trouble would follow.

A Room for Two

Finding a place to stay was another ordeal. Most of the inns and bunkhouses were filled to capacity, and the few that had space required too many questions and too much coin.

That was, until Dragon found a place that only had a single available room.

Silvia crossed her arms as she eyed the very tiny room. The bed was barely large enough for one person, let alone two.

"Absolutely not."

Dragon, lounging against the doorframe, grinned. "It's this or the streets. And I don't know about you, but I'm not sleeping on a cobblestone pillow."

Silvia groaned. "Fine. But I get the bed."

Dragon's grin widened. "Of course."

Nighttime Negotiations

Later that night, Silvia was very aware of the very large panther-man taking up too much space next to her.

"This isn't working," she muttered, staring at the ceiling.

Dragon yawned, shifting slightly—which meant more of his body pressing into her space. "What's wrong? Not used to sharing?"

She scowled. "You're too big."

A slow, mischievous chuckle rumbled beside her. "I'll take that as a compliment."

Silvia groaned, punching his arm. "Not what I meant, you idiot."

Dragon rolled onto his side, propping his head on his hand as he smirked down at her. "Admit it. You like having me close."

Silvia glared. "I'd like it more if you were on the floor."

Dragon feigned a dramatic sigh. "Alas, my delicate spine would never survive such hardship."

She shoved a pillow into his face.

"Fine," she muttered. "But no funny business, Bromson."

Dragon's grin softened. "Wouldn't dream of it, sweetheart."

And despite her very loud internal protests, Silvia fell asleep to the steady warmth of Dragon's presence beside her.

Breakfast and Bribes

The next morning, Silvia was woken by the delicious scent of food.

She sat up groggily, blinking at the sight of Dragon sitting on the windowsill, casually munching on a steaming pastry.

"Where did you get that?" she demanded.

Dragon waggled his eyebrows. "Wouldn't you like to know?"

Silvia lunged for it, but he effortlessly held it out of reach. "Ah-ah, sweetheart. What's the magic word?"

She narrowed her eyes. "Give me the damn pastry before I set your pants on fire."

Dragon chuckled, finally handing it over. "See? That wasn't so hard."

Silvia bit into the pastry with a triumphant grin. It was still warm, the perfect balance of crisp and sweet.

Maybe traveling with Dragon wouldn't be entirely terrible.

The Bathhouse Incident

By evening, they stumbled upon one of Ashen Hold's famous public bathhouses, offering warm water and a much-needed reprieve from days of travel.

Silvia had barely stepped into the steaming pool when Dragon casually walked in after her.

She froze. "What. Are. You. Doing?"

Dragon stretched, his muscles rippling under the dim lantern light. "Relaxing."

Silvia turned red. "There are separate baths for a reason, you absolute menace."

Dragon smirked, sinking into the water. "Oh? Didn't see the sign."

She splashed him. Hard.

He just laughed.