Ash and Ember

The slums of Vael'Zyrenn were never silent. Even at the dead of night, the city's underbelly pulsed with life. A constant, restless hum filled the air. Whispers of desperation, the distant wails of the forsaken, the sharp clash of steel where those too desperate to live and too stubborn to die clash over scraps. Fires flicker between the alleys, their glow casting long shifting shadows upon the cracked cobblestones. The scent of charred wood, damp rot and the acrid stench of unwashed bodies wove together into an aroma that was uniquely its own. A perfume of misery and desperation.

Kaelen Duskbane moved through the filth like a phantom. His cloak was tattered, barely more than a patchwork of scavenged cloth, and his boots, if you could still be called that, had long since lost their soles to the jagged streets. He walked with a peculiar silence, each step calculated, each movement deliberate. In the slums, noise was an invitation to misfortune. The quiet ones were the ones who lived the longest.

A silver moon hung high in the sky, its light reflecting off the lifeless puddles that dotted the alleyways. Kaelen barely spared it a glace. There was no beauty here, no poetry in the was the night cradled the broken remains of humanity. Only necessity. Only survival.

He adjusted the weight of his satchel, feeling the slight shift of the stolen bread and dried meat. A meagre haul, but enough for now. Hunger was a constant companion, but it was one he had learned to silence.

A flicker of movement caught his eye. He pressed himself in to the shadows, heart steady, breath controlled. Two figures stumbled in to view further down the alley. One, a towering brute clad in rusted chainmail, and the other, a small figure draped in rags. A young women. The was she clutched her side, blood seeping between her fingers told him everything he needed to know.

A shakedown. Another life about to be snuffed out over a handful of coins.

Kaelen turned away. It wasn't his fight. It never was.

The girl let out a strangled cry as she was forced against the wall, and the brute's dagger flashing in the moonlight.

"Damn it."

Before he could think, his body instinctively moved with purpose. Silent as a wraith, he crossed the distance in three quick strides. His footfall were soundless against the cobblestone, his presence unnoticed until it was too late. The brute barely had time to register his existence before Kaelen's knife was pressed against his throat.

"I wouldn't," Kaelen whispered, voice edged with ice.

The man stiffened, muscles coiling like a beast sensing a greater predator. His grip on the girl loosened just enough for her to slip away. Staggering backwards, wide eyes darting between them.

For a moment, nothing moved. Then, with a grunt, the brute took a cautious step back, hands raised in mocking surrender. "Didn't mean no trouble," he muttered, eyes flicking to Kaelen's blade. "Jus' business."

Kaelen didn't move. "Then do your business else where."

The brute hesitated, weighing his chances. Kaelen saw a shift in his stance, he made up his mind. A sharp inhale, the subtle tightening of his fingers. The attack came swift but clumsy.

Kaelen sidestepped the slash with effortless grace, his own blade reflecting the moonlights gleam. The brute froze mid motion, then let out a strangled gasp as crimson bloomed across his chest. He staggered backward, clutching the wound, before collapsing against the alley wall.

"This will not kill you." Sharply spoke Kaelen with a sharp frozen glare. "But this should help you remember. Don't cross me again!"

Kaelen turned to the girl, expecting her to be long gone. But to his surprise, she was still there, watching him with something between fear and curiosity.

"You're an idiot," she said, her voice hoarse but steady. "You just made an enemy you didn't need to."

Kaelen wiped his blade clean and hid it out of site. "Not my first."

A dry chuckle. "No, I imagine not." She took a step forwards, wincing as the pain in her side caught up with her. "Name's Rina."

He didn't respond. Names were dangerous. Names meant attachments.

She studied him for a moment, then sighed. "Right, The brooding silent type. Fine, mystery man. I'll remember you."

She turned and vanished in to the night. He didn't stop her, just watched until she could not be seen anymore.

Kaelen exhaled slowly, letting the tension bleed from his body. He glanced once more at the fallen brute before slipping back into the shadows. Another night in the slums. Another story untold.

But somewhere deep within, a whisper of something unfamiliar stirred in his chest. He ignored it. Survival was all that mattered. For now.