The Syndicate had grown in influence, but their power, like fire, required constant fuel. Every victory had its price, and every dark ally they recruited brought new dangers. The shadows that loomed over the capital thickened, and the Church, their most formidable enemy, had not yet revealed the full extent of its blade.
---
*The Arrival of the Cinderborn*
Thorne Blackwood stood atop the crumbling tower of the Ember Hall, his cloak billowing in the wind as he looked out over the city. The flames from below flickered in the cold night air, casting eerie shadows against the broken stone walls. Below him, the city's heartbeat continued, unaware of the storm brewing in the depths of its streets.
A sharp knock echoed through the room behind him, breaking his focus.
"Thorne," Ruby's voice called out softly, "the Cinderborn has arrived."
His eyes narrowed, a mix of curiosity and calculation flooding his thoughts. "And how do we know he's worth the risk?"
"He's not here to be 'worth the risk.'" Ruby's voice was low and serious. "He's here because he has no choice."
She stepped into the chamber, her presence commanding the room. She'd changed since their early days together—her movements were sharper, more dangerous, like a blade that had been honed over time. But it wasn't just her training. There was something else in her eyes—a new fire.
Thorne turned to her, his voice steady. "Then let him prove his worth."
---
*The Cinderborn: Ashen Veyr*
The man who entered the Ember Hall was no stranger to pain. His appearance told the tale of a life that had been ravaged by suffering. His skin was dark and weathered, as though scorched by a fire that refused to die. Scars marred his face, etched deeply as though someone had tried to carve away his very soul. But beneath the grizzled exterior was an unmistakable resilience—one that didn't bend, break, or falter. His presence was both unsettling and magnetic.
"I am Ashen Veyr," the man said, his voice raspy, but with an unmistakable authority that sent a shiver through the room. "And I am the Cinderborn."
Ruby studied him carefully, her sharp eyes noting every detail. His eyes were hollow, haunted by the kind of pain only a few could comprehend. His body was a battlefield—a canvas of scars that had been forged in hellish fires. But there was something else there. Something that made him stand out from the others.
"You come from the Church," Thorne said, his voice low but commanding. "They made you what you are."
Ashen nodded once. "I was a child when they found me. They taught me to endure—taught me that pain is the only truth."
Ruby's jaw tightened. "What did they do to you?"
Ashen's gaze flickered to Ruby, but he didn't answer immediately. His silence was both an answer and an admission. The Church had done more than just break his body—they had broken his spirit, and now, they would pay.
"I survived," he said at last. "That's all that matters now."
Thorne looked at him, his eyes calculating. "You survive, but can you fight for something more?"
Ashen's lips curled into a faint, bitter smile. "I fight for myself. But if your flame burns bright enough, I will help you stoke it."
The words hung heavy in the room, a pact unspoken, but understood.
---
*Ruby's Wounds: A Growing Darkness*
As the Cinderborn made his vow, Ruby felt the weight of her own unspoken promise pressing against her chest. She had sustained injuries during their last mission, a series of deep gashes from a group of assassins that had left her marked. At first, the wounds had seemed trivial—just another battle scar. But over time, the injuries began to change her in ways she couldn't explain.
She felt it now, deep in her bones, the pull of something dark inside her. It wasn't just pain. It was something worse. Something foreign.
---
Ruby found herself in the dimly lit chamber of the Syndicate's healer, Lysena. The room was thick with the scent of herbs and incense, and the atmosphere felt suffocating—much like the presence of the curse that now slowly twisted within Ruby's veins.
"What's happening to me?" Ruby asked, her voice strained.
Lysena looked at her, the worry clear in her eyes. "I don't know yet. But there's something inside you. Something that wasn't there before."
Ruby ran her fingers over the scar that had been left by the assassin's blade. It was still raw, still tender, but as her fingers brusjhed over it, she could feel a faint pulse beneath the skin. A heartbeat that wasn't hers.
"Is it the poison?" Ruby asked, her voice barely a whisper.
Lysena shook her head. "No poison behaves this way."
Ruby felt the darkness grow inside her, like an ember that refused to die. She tried to ignore it, but it kept pulling at her, threatening to consume her from within. What was this thing—this curse—that had taken root in her?
"I'll find a way to fix it," Lysena promised, though Ruby could see the doubt in her eyes. "But first, you must rest. We need you in full form for what's coming."
Ruby nodded, but her mind raced. Rest? There was no time to rest. Not when the Church was still hunting them. Not when the Syndicate was growing bolder by the day.
---
*The Church's Wrath: The Public Execution*
Days passed, and tensions mounted. The Church had heard rumors of the Syndicate's movements, and they had prepared to strike in a way that would shake the very foundations of the city. They had announced a public execution in Velmire Square, meant to send a message to anyone who would dare defy them.
Three lives were chosen—men and women who had been caught aiding the Syndicate. They were dragged through the square, humiliated before the public, and then hanged.
But this wasn't the end of the Church's message. No. This was only the beginning.
Thorne watched from the shadows, his eyes cold and calculating as the crowd jeered. "They want to make an example of us," he muttered, more to himself than anyone else. "But they've underestimated the fire we're stoking."
Ruby stood beside him, her jaw clenched, her fists trembling with anger. "We'll make them regret this."
---
*The Vow*
The day after the execution, the Syndicate gathered again in the Ember Hall. The room was silent, save for the crackling of the fire that burned brightly at the center of the room.
Thorne stood before them, his expression grim but determined. His eyes flicked briefly to Ashen, who had remained quiet during the gathering. Thorne could feel the weight of his own decision pressing against him, but he knew what had to be done.
"Tonight, we make a vow," Thorne said, his voice strong. "We will no longer hide in the shadows. We will fight back, and we will make the Church regret their every move."
Ruby stepped forward, her hand hovering near the hilt of her blade. "The Syndicate stands united," she said, her voice ringing with conviction. "We will show them what happens when you try to snuff out the flame."
Ashen's voice cut through the tension. "Let it burn."
And in that moment, the Syndicate swore an oath that would shape the future of their fight—a vow to no longer be prey, but to become the predators. A vow to scorch the earth beneath the Church's feet, until nothing was left but ash.
---
*A Prophet's Warning*
Later that night, an unexpected visitor arrived—a cloaked figure, hooded and shrouded in mystery. The figure walked slowly into the Ember Hall, a strange aura of foreboding that seemed to cling to him like the shadows.
Thorne's hand instinctively went to his sword, but Ruby stepped forward. "Who are you?"
The figure removed his hood, revealing a middle-aged man with wild, unkempt hair and eyes that seemed to see straight through her.
"I am a prophet," he said, his voice raspy and distant. "The Church is not what you think. It is more than just a power in the city—it is the key to something far darker."
"Spare us your riddles," Thorne said sharply, but the prophet held up a hand.
"The darkness you face," the man continued, "is more than mortal hands can grasp. It is the death of the old gods. And it is rising. Do not think you are fighting for power. You are fighting to survive what is coming."
Ruby felt a chill run through her as the prophet's words sank in. *The death of the old gods?* What did that mean?
Before she could ask more, the man turned and vanished into the night, leaving nothing but his cryptic warning behind.
---
*End of Chapter 13*
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