Chapter 29: Whispers in the Dark

The hideout was steeped in silence, broken only by the occasional crackle of the dying fire in the corner. The air was heavy with exhaustion, but no one had the luxury of rest.

Aedric sat at the wooden table, fingers steepled, eyes fixed on the flickering flame. His mind churned through possibilities, each more dangerous than the last. They couldn't afford another night like the last. The rebellion had struck a nerve, but Gorran had struck back harder. If they didn't change their approach, they wouldn't survive the next wave.

Across from him, Lirian sharpened her knife with slow, deliberate movements. The rhythmic scrape of metal against whetstone filled the space between them. Varen leaned against the far wall, arms crossed, his usual smirk replaced with a grim set to his jaw. Tessa sat near Dorn's cot, her hand resting lightly on the edge. He was still unconscious, his breathing shallow but steady.

"We need to move," Varen finally said.

Aedric looked up. "Not yet."

Varen's brows lifted. "Not yet? You saw what happened out there. Gorran's not holding back anymore. If we wait too long, we'll lose what little ground we have."

Aedric tapped a finger against the table. "If we act recklessly, we'll lose everything."

Lirian exhaled through her nose. "He's right, Varen. We don't have the numbers for another direct clash. Gorran's men are watching every corner of the slums. If we step wrong, we won't even make it to the next sunrise."

Varen scowled but said nothing. He wasn't used to standing still. None of them were. But this wasn't about impulse anymore—it was about survival.

Aedric glanced at Dorn, his friend's face pale beneath the dim light. That could have been any of them. Next time, they might not be lucky.

Tessa finally spoke. "So what do we do?"

Aedric leaned forward, resting his arms on the table. "We stop fighting in the open. We make Gorran feel what it's like to be hunted."

Lirian's lips quirked upward. "Now that, I like."

Varen raised an eyebrow. "You're talking about guerrilla tactics. Striking from the shadows."

"Exactly," Aedric said. "We can't match his strength, but we can control the battlefield. We hit where he least expects, at times he can't predict. We make him question every alley, every dark corner."

Tessa frowned. "That won't free the city, though."

"No," Aedric admitted. "But it will give us time. And right now, time is what we need."

---

The city never truly slept, even after a night of bloodshed.

By dawn, the fires had mostly burned out, leaving behind charred remnants of homes and the acrid scent of destruction. The slums were quieter than usual—not out of peace, but out of fear. The people had seen what happened to those who resisted.

Aedric and Lirian moved carefully through the narrow alleyways, cloaks drawn close to ward off the morning chill. They weren't the only ones hiding in the shadows. Every face they passed carried the same look—exhaustion, anger, hopelessness.

Lirian nudged him lightly. "They're waiting."

Aedric nodded. "For what?"

"For someone to tell them it's not over," she said simply.

That was the truth of it. The rebellion hadn't died in the flames—it had only gone quiet. People were watching, waiting to see if the fight was still worth it.

"We make our first strike tonight," Aedric said.

Lirian grinned. "Where?"

Aedric glanced up at the looming silhouette of the inner city, where Gorran's men were thickest. "Where it will hurt him most."

---

The warehouse district sat on the edge of the slums, a crumbling stretch of docks and storage buildings where Gorran funneled his wealth.

It was the heart of his operation—the source of his power.

Aedric and his small group gathered in an abandoned loft overlooking the district. Tessa, Varen, and Lirian crouched beside him, going over the layout one last time. Dorn was still too injured to join, but he had given his approval before Aedric left.

"This is going to set off a firestorm," Tessa muttered, eyes flicking between them.

"That's the point," Aedric said. "We need to make Gorran feel like he's losing control."

Varen smirked. "Then let's get started."

The plan was simple: infiltrate one of Gorran's supply warehouses and burn it to the ground. Not just as an act of defiance, but as a warning.

The night air was thick with the scent of salt and damp wood as they moved through the district. The warehouses were heavily guarded, but not invulnerable.

They waited in the shadows, watching as patrols passed. Timing was everything. One mistake, and they'd be dead before the fire even started.

Aedric signaled. Go.

They moved like phantoms, slipping through the cracks of the city. Lirian dispatched a guard with silent efficiency, her blade quick and precise. Varen handled another, dragging the body into the darkness before anyone noticed.

Aedric pushed open the side door, leading them into the warehouse. Rows upon rows of crates stretched into the darkness, filled with weapons, supplies, and stolen goods.

"This will do nicely," Lirian whispered.

Tessa pulled out the oil canisters they had brought. "Let's make sure it burns."

They worked quickly, dousing the supplies, stuffing cloth into bottles filled with flammable liquid. They had only minutes before someone noticed the missing guards.

Aedric struck a match. The tiny flame flickered between his fingers. One spark, and everything would change.

"Time to send our message," he said.

He let the match fall.

The fire caught instantly, licking hungrily at the wooden crates. Within moments, the entire warehouse was ablaze.

Shouts erupted outside. The alarm had been raised.

"Time to go," Varen said.

They slipped out just as the chaos began, disappearing into the night as the flames roared behind them. By morning, Gorran would know.

The rebellion wasn't dead.

It had only just begun.