Chapter 15: The Fire Within

The silence inside the tunnel was suffocating.

Kael's breath was slow and measured as he stood before the rusted iron door deep beneath Damarak. The lantern's flame flickered against the damp stone walls, casting jagged shadows over the faces of the soldiers behind him. Each man and woman in that narrow passage was chosen not for strength, but for precision. This wasn't a battle—it was a surgical strike.

"When that door opens, we have one chance," Kael said quietly. "We take the inner hall and disable the eastern gate from the inside. Once the gate is open, the rest of the army moves in."

Liora, standing just behind him, nodded. "The guards won't expect a breach from within. We hit fast. No mercy."

The old scavenger stepped forward, running gnarled fingers across the edge of the iron frame. He pressed something hidden—a switch disguised as part of the stone—and with a low groan, the ancient door slid open.

Beyond was darkness and the faint scent of incense and oil.

Kael gave a sharp nod.

"Move."

They entered the underbelly of Damarak.

---

Inside the fortress, the passage split into three corridors—Kael sent two men down each side to clear any movement. He and Liora took the central path, guided by the scavenger who knew these tunnels like the lines of his own hand.

They emerged behind a storage chamber—a place used by city guards to store weapons and supplies. Two sentries stood chatting near the shelves.

In a blink, Liora moved. Her blade flashed—one guard crumpled without a sound. Kael caught the other by the mouth, muffling his shout before driving his dagger deep into his throat.

Both bodies dropped.

Kael crouched beside a nearby window slit. He could see the inner square of Damarak above them—hundreds of soldiers camped near the gate, unaware that their walls had already been breached.

He turned to Liora. "Tell Bael he can begin the approach. We'll open the gate within the hour."

She nodded and disappeared into the tunnel to deliver the signal.

Kael and his strike force crept up the hidden stairs, emerging into the lower level of the eastern watchtower. The heart of the gate controls.

Two guards were inside the mechanism chamber. Kael gestured—two archers silently loosed arrows. Both guards slumped forward over the levers.

Kael stepped over them and looked at the mechanism—an old design of pulleys and stone weights. He grabbed the release and paused.

"Wait for it," he said to himself.

From beyond the walls, the faint sound of hooves thundered across the sands. Kael felt it—Bael was on the move.

"Now."

He yanked the lever.

With a deep groan, the iron gate of Damarak began to rise.

---

Outside, chaos erupted.

Bael's forces, hidden behind dunes, surged forward like a tidal wave. The enemy was caught unprepared. From within, Kael's group stormed the tower, seizing the vantage points and cutting down the panicked guards.

Within minutes, the gate was wide open—and Kael's army poured into the heart of the city.

---

The battle for Damarak wasn't long—it was brutal.

Street by street, Kael led the charge. His blade gleamed crimson under the rising sun. Enemy soldiers broke ranks under the force of his will. Archers fired from rooftops, only to be met by return volleys. Civilians scattered, screaming, as the clash of steel echoed through the narrow alleys.

Kael faced the commander of Damarak in the city square. A man twice his size, cloaked in obsidian armor, wielding a curved scimitar crackling with some ancient enchantment.

"You desecrate sacred ground," the commander spat.

Kael drew his blade, its edge still stained with the blood of war. "Sacred to tyrants. Not to me."

Their duel was fierce—Kael's movements were sharp, deliberate, honed by years of battle. The commander was relentless, his enchanted blade striking sparks with every blow.

But Kael fought with more than skill. He fought with rage, with memory, with purpose.

He drove his sword through the commander's chest, twisting it until the man's scream faded into the sand-soaked air.

Damarak had fallen.

---

As dusk settled over the city, the fires died down. The screams quieted. Kael stood atop the battlements, gazing north.

The road to the capital lay open now.

Behind him, Bael approached.

"We did it," he said, almost in disbelief.

Kael didn't respond. His gaze remained fixed.

"What now?" Bael asked.

Kael's voice was low.

"Now we march on Azrana. We end this empire. Once and for all."