Chapter 17: The Spark Before the Fire

The safe house was silent, save for the occasional creak of the wooden beams above. The dim candlelight flickered, casting long shadows across the stone walls. Aedric sat at the worn table, his fingers tracing over the rough surface as he mulled over Lirian's words.

They needed to strike again. Harder.

Vask was an unpredictable beast, but he was still a man ruled by instinct. He would lash out if wounded enough—but Aedric needed him to do so at the right moment. Too soon, and they wouldn't be ready. Too late, and Gorran would tighten his grip beyond what they could break.

Lirian leaned back in her chair, flipping a dagger between her fingers. "You're thinking too much again."

Aedric glanced up, his brow furrowed. "We can't afford mistakes."

"We also can't afford to wait forever," she countered. "We started something tonight. If we hesitate now, it loses its weight. You know how men like Vask work—hit them hard, and they come running."

Varen, who had been watching quietly from the corner, finally spoke. "She's right. We need to keep the momentum. What's the target?"

Aedric exhaled, shifting his gaze back to the map on the table. The layout of Velmire was etched into his mind, but he needed more than knowledge—he needed the perfect weakness.

His eyes settled on a district not far from the Iron Hollow. It was one of Gorran's major strongholds, a place where money flowed like water.

"The Silk Row," Aedric murmured.

Lirian raised an eyebrow. "That's a bold choice."

"It's where Gorran launders a good portion of his coin," Tessa chimed in, pulling a separate parchment closer. "His men collect protection fees from the merchants, using the brothels and gambling dens as a front. It's one of the few places Vask's thugs actually patrol."

Varen folded his arms. "Attacking there is risky. We'll be stepping directly into Gorran's domain."

"Which is exactly why we need to do it," Aedric said, his voice firm. "If we hit them there, it won't just be about the loss—it'll be an insult. A direct challenge. Vask won't be able to ignore it."

Silence hung over the room as the weight of his words settled in. Then, slowly, a grin spread across Lirian's face.

"Now that," she said, "sounds fun."

---

The night was thick with the scent of rain, though none had fallen yet. The streets of the Silk Row were still lively, despite the late hour. Lanterns cast a golden glow over the cobblestones, their light reflecting off the puddles left by the previous storm.

Aedric and his group moved unseen through the back alleys, keeping to the shadows. The plan was simple but dangerous. Gorran's men collected their cut from the district at the same time every few nights, taking the money to a discreet counting house before redistributing it to his various operations. It was during this transfer that they would strike.

The building itself was unassuming—a two-story structure nestled between a tavern and a tailor's shop. The windows were heavily shuttered, and only two guards stood outside, likely to avoid drawing attention. But inside, there would be more.

Aedric crouched beside Lirian and Varen behind a stack of barrels. "We do this clean. No unnecessary noise. Get in, take the coin, and get out before reinforcements arrive."

Lirian smirked. "No fun in that."

Varen shot her a look. "We're not here for sport."

"Speak for yourself," she muttered under her breath.

Aedric ignored their exchange, focusing on the guards. "Lirian, take the one on the left. Varen, you're with me on the right."

With a nod, they moved.

Lirian was a ghost in the darkness. One moment, she was beside them, and the next, she had slipped away, her blade already whispering through the air. The left guard barely had time to react before her dagger found his throat.

At the same time, Aedric and Varen struck the second guard. Aedric grabbed the man from behind, muffling his startled cry as Varen's blade slid between his ribs. The guard shuddered, then went limp.

They dragged the bodies into the shadows before slipping inside.

The interior was as expected—dimly lit, with a few men counting stacks of coin at a central table. A fireplace crackled in the corner, the only source of warmth in the otherwise cold room. There were five men inside, their focus on their task. Two of them carried weapons, but they weren't expecting a fight.

Aedric motioned for Lirian and Varen to spread out before moving. He took the first man silently, a quick flick of his dagger across the throat. The second barely had time to register what was happening before Varen buried a knife into his side.

The remaining three reacted too late. Lirian cut down one before he could draw his sword, while Aedric disarmed the last, slamming him into the wooden table. Coins scattered across the floor as the man struggled, his face pale.

"P-please—"

Aedric pressed his dagger against the man's throat. "Where is the rest of the coin being taken?"

The man swallowed hard. "I-it's stored here until morning, then moved to the Iron Hollow."

Aedric considered this. "How many men guard it?"

"Not many. Just a few at night. Most of them patrol the streets instead."

Lirian leaned in, her voice playful yet laced with menace. "And Vask?"

The man hesitated.

Aedric applied more pressure. "Where is he?"

"I—I don't know exactly! He doesn't come here himself. He sends his men—"

Aedric exhaled sharply, frustration flickering across his face. They needed Vask to react. And if he wasn't here…

Then they'd have to make sure he heard about this.

Aedric withdrew his dagger and, without another word, slit the man's throat.

As the body crumpled, Varen moved to the stacks of coin. "Do we take it all?"

Aedric shook his head. "We take most of it. But we leave something behind."

Lirian's eyes gleamed. "A calling card?"

Aedric nodded. "Make sure they know exactly who did this."

Lirian knelt by the fallen man, carving the phantom's mark into the wooden table. The blood from the body pooled around it, staining the symbol like ink on parchment.

By morning, the message would be clear.

Velmire's underworld had been shaken.

And Vask would be forced to answer.