Chapter 23: The First Spark

The stillness of the night was deceptive. Though the city of Velmire lay in apparent quiet, its underbelly was stirring. Word traveled fast in the slums, carried by whispers and fleeting glances. Those who made their lives in the shadows knew something was shifting.

Aedric and his group moved through the narrow alleys, their presence unnoticed by the ordinary folk who had long learned to ignore figures that walked without sound. The air smelled of damp stone and distant smoke, and the occasional flicker of a lantern in a window cast faint, distorted shadows along the cobbled paths.

Their return to the hideout was marked by silence, each of them deep in thought. Dorn had committed. The moment they had been working toward was finally upon them. But with that step came uncertainty. A plan set in motion could not be undone.

Inside, the hideout was dimly lit, a single oil lamp flickering on the wooden table in the center of the room. Varen was already there, standing by the window, his eyes scanning the streets below. He turned slightly when they entered, his expression unreadable.

"Well?" he asked.

Aedric pulled back his hood, his face calm but resolute. "Dorn's making his move."

Varen exhaled, rubbing his jaw. "That was fast."

Lirian smirked as she leaned against the wall, crossing her arms. "A little pressure works wonders."

Tessa flicked her dagger in one hand, the metal catching the lamplight. "It's started, then. No turning back."

Aedric took a seat at the table, fingers tapping against the rough wood. "No. But that's what we wanted." He looked at each of them in turn. "Now we need to prepare for what happens next."

The weight of those words settled over them. A war in Velmire's underworld was no small thing. Gorran had ruled through control and fear for years, and he would not allow Dorn's rebellion to gain momentum without a response.

Varen sat down across from Aedric, his brows furrowed. "Dorn's move will create chaos, but how long can he hold out? Gorran's men aren't just thugs—they're disciplined, brutal. He'll crush them if they don't strike hard and fast."

Lirian shrugged. "That's the plan, isn't it? We light the fire, let them burn each other, and we pick up the pieces."

Aedric nodded slowly. "Yes. But we have to make sure the fire doesn't go out too soon."

Tessa arched an eyebrow. "Meaning?"

Aedric leaned forward. "Dorn's men are ready to fight, but they're not strong enough to take on Gorran directly. They'll need more numbers. If they don't get them, this rebellion dies before it begins."

Lirian clicked her tongue. "So we give them a reason to get more numbers."

Aedric met her gaze. "Exactly."

Varen frowned. "How?"

Aedric's fingers drummed against the table again. "By making it look like Gorran's men are already losing."

---

The night deepened as they slipped back into the city, this time with intent.

The streets of the slums were winding and treacherous, but Aedric and his group knew them well. They moved quickly, staying out of sight of patrolling guards and enforcers. Their target was a small gambling den that served as a meeting place for some of Gorran's lower-rank men.

Aedric had chosen it for a reason. Taking out one or two of Gorran's enforcers wouldn't change the balance of power, but making it look like Dorn's rebellion was already spreading? That would send a message.

Lirian and Tessa approached the entrance first, slipping inside like ordinary patrons. The den was a cramped, dimly lit space filled with the stink of sweat, cheap ale, and desperation. A few tables were occupied by men hunched over dice games, their laughter rough and bitter.

At the back, two of Gorran's enforcers sat together, speaking in hushed tones. They were armed, but relaxed—too comfortable.

Lirian slid onto a stool at the counter, ordering a drink while keeping her eyes on the room. Tessa, meanwhile, moved toward a game table, pretending to be interested in the dice roll.

Aedric and Varen waited outside, positioned near the alley entrance. Everything depended on timing.

Inside, Lirian caught the enforcers' attention with a well-placed glance and a half-smile. One of them, a thick-necked brute with scars along his arms, smirked and nudged his companion. "Look at that. Maybe this night ain't so dull after all."

Lirian let the moment linger, then stood, stretching lazily before making her way toward the exit. As expected, the enforcers followed.

The moment they stepped into the alley, the trap closed.

Tessa struck first, her dagger flashing in the darkness. The enforcer barely had time to react before he staggered back, clutching his side. The second reached for his weapon, but Varen was faster, slamming the hilt of his sword into the man's head, sending him sprawling.

It was over in moments. The first enforcer gasped, blood pooling beneath him. The second groaned, dazed but alive.

Aedric crouched beside the wounded man, his voice low. "You tell Gorran that Dorn's men aren't hiding anymore. They're coming for him."

The enforcer's breath came in ragged gasps. "You… you think you can take him down?"

Aedric smiled coldly. "No. But Dorn does. And by morning, half the slums will too."

He stood, motioning for the others. They vanished before anyone could arrive, leaving only the wounded men behind.

The message had been sent.

---

By the time dawn approached, the slums were buzzing with whispers.

Rumors spread like wildfire—Dorn's men had already started taking down Gorran's enforcers. Some exaggerated the story, claiming entire groups of Gorran's men had been wiped out. Others insisted that Dorn had an army hidden in the city, waiting to strike.

None of it was true. But that didn't matter.

Perception shaped reality.

And Aedric had just ensured that when the time came for Dorn to recruit more men, they would come willingly.

Back at the hideout, Lirian dropped onto a chair, stretching. "Well, that was fun."

Tessa chuckled. "You always say that after a fight."

Varen leaned against the wall, arms crossed. "Gorran will hit back hard."

Aedric nodded. "He will. But now he'll be fighting more than just Dorn." He exhaled slowly, feeling the weight of the night settle over him. This was the first real step.

Velmire's underworld was beginning to unravel.

And when it did, Aedric intended to be the one holding the threads.