Chapter 1: Ashes of Oaths

Smoke coiled through the broken rafters like serpents in the twilight sky. Alex stood at the edge of the ruined hall, the scent of old parchment and scorched velvet clinging to his cloak. The once-grand bastion of House Velmora—the family that had ruled the Eastern Dominion for over a century—was now reduced to rubble. What remained of its banners flapped weakly in the wind, the proud crimson now blackened by fire.

He knelt, brushing ash off a charred tile. Etched beneath it, nearly obliterated by soot, was the sigil of the Velmoran bloodline: a phoenix rising from a spiral of chains.

"A symbol of rebirth," he muttered, bitterly. "They should've known even phoenixes burn."

A soft crunch behind him broke his thoughts. His hand instinctively went to the dagger hidden in his boot.

"It's just me," came Lia's voice, low and warm. She stepped through the smoke, her face half-shadowed by her hood. Her silhouette, graceful yet battle-worn, looked almost spectral in the dim light.

Alex rose, his shoulders tense. "You shouldn't be here."

"Neither should you."

Her eyes searched the ruins. "The rebellion wasn't supposed to reach Velmora this fast. I thought we had more time."

"So did they." He gestured around them. "Turns out oaths don't buy loyalty anymore. Just a delay in betrayal."

Lia walked slowly, her fingers grazing the scorched columns. "I heard you saved the daughter. Is she safe?"

"Hidden. For now." Alex folded his arms. "But she's not the reason I came back."

Lia's gaze snapped to his, caught off-guard. "Then why—?"

"I needed to know." His voice dropped. "Who set the fire."

She looked away. "You think it was me."

"I think you were here last night, and the fire started less than an hour after your contact left." His jaw tightened. "That's not coincidence."

Silence stretched between them, thick as the smoke.

Then Lia stepped closer, her voice softer than wind. "If I wanted Velmora to fall, I wouldn't have risked everything to stop it."

"Then what were you doing in the eastern wing, Lia?"

She exhaled slowly, eyes closing. "Looking for a ledger. The kind no one wants found. It had names… patrons of the rebellion, nobles funding both sides, even the sovereign's cousin."

Alex stared at her, incredulous. "You were going to sell it?"

"No." Her eyes met his. "I was going to give it to you."

The words hit him like a blow.

"You still believe I fight for your cause," he said quietly, "when I don't even know what it is anymore."

"You do," she said, stepping closer. "Because even now, standing in ash, you're still searching for truth. You still care who's behind it. That means something."

Alex looked at her—not the spy, not the assassin, not the woman draped in mystery—but just Lia. Her cheeks were streaked with soot, her hands rough from climbing the outer walls, but her eyes… they held that same defiant warmth that had first shattered his guard.

"Careful," he said, voice softening. "You sound like you still believe in me."

"I never stopped."

The tension between them shifted, softened. Her hand grazed his as they stood inches apart in the ruins. For a heartbeat, the world shrank—no fire, no war, no betrayal. Just breath and closeness.

He tilted his head slightly. "This isn't the time."

Her lips curled faintly. "There's never a right time for us."

A loud crack above drew their eyes upward. A beam, half-burned and barely holding, gave way and crashed beside them, spraying ash.

"Romantic as ever," Alex muttered, pulling her back. His hand lingered on her waist longer than necessary.

They both knew the moment wouldn't last.

Lia pulled away first. "There's a caravan leaving tonight from the southern bridge. Loyalists mixed with refugees. If the rebellion's as deep as I fear… some of them are already marked."

Alex straightened. "You want me to protect them?"

"I want you to find out who's hunting them."

"And if it's the same nobles you were spying for?"

"Then we burn both sides."

He didn't answer immediately. Then he reached into his coat and handed her a folded slip of scorched parchment. She opened it slowly—revealing a partial map and a seal burned into the lower edge.

"The ledger?" she asked.

"No," he said. "The last page."

Her eyes widened. "You found it?"

Alex's face was grim. "I found part of it. And if even one of those names is still alive… Velmora's ashes won't be the last."

They stood in silence again, the night thickening around them. Lia's fingers brushed his once more.

"Be careful, Alex."

He gave her a faint smirk. "You know me."

She smiled sadly. "That's what worries me."

And with that, she vanished into the smoke—like a ghost returning to her shadows.

Alex turned, eyes fixed on the distant fire still burning in the east.

The rebellion had begun.

And so had the reckoning.