CHAPTER 6: Baptism by Blood
South of Ravencair – The Crosspine Ambush
The land south of Ravencair was dying in frost. Crosspine Vale had once been a merchant corridor—traveled by gold, grain, and imperial tribute. Now it was soaked in mist, its roads forgotten by all but the desperate and the brave.
Kael's eyes narrowed as he surveyed the valley from the ridge. Below, an imperial vanguard convoy snaked through the pine-twisted pass—five wagons, twenty cavalry, and armored infantry with the red-and-gold lion standard.
"Captain reports they'll reach Duskwatch in two days," said Thessa, peering through a spyglass. "If they get there, the garrison will double. And your rebellion gets smaller."
Kael turned to Seyda.
She wore no armor. Only blackened crimson robes, and a sash marked in soot—the sigil of The Red Veil freshly inked across her collarbone.
"This is your test," he said. "You spoke of fire. Prove it."
Seyda bowed. "With pleasure, Sovereign."
Nightfall – Crosspine Vale
The imperials camped near the ravine, unaware of the nooses hanging just beyond the trees.
Seyda moved like a shadow through the fog, her veil drawn over her mouth, eyes burning like dying coals. Behind her, thirteen members of the Red Veil moved in absolute silence—robes damp, knives oiled, and skin smeared with war ash.
She didn't speak orders. She only raised two fingers. Then one.
At once, the Vale ignited.
Pitch-soaked cords flung from treetops, snapping taut as they pulled down branches rigged with fire. Imperial tents exploded into heat and chaos. Screams erupted.
Then came the knives.
The Red Veil did not charge like soldiers. They broke the enemy—slipping behind guards in the confusion, severing throats, crippling arms, whispering prayers as they ended men who never saw their faces.
Seyda herself walked calmly through the carnage, flames licking her veil. She found the enemy captain crawling, arm severed, dragging himself through mud.
She knelt beside him.
"You served gods that demanded suffering," she whispered.
The man begged. "Mercy…"
She leaned closer, smile like a lover's.
"So does mine."
Then she slit his throat clean.
Dawn – Kael's Camp, Ridge Overlook
Kael stood at the edge of the ridge when Seyda returned—blood on her robes, but not a drop on her hands. The rest of the Red Veil followed in eerie formation, eyes downcast, humming some low melody Kael couldn't place.
"They never saw us coming," Seyda said simply. "Not one survived."
Myrren looked disturbed. "That was… fast."
"They burned tents first," said Dren, whistling. "Gods' teeth, she lit their command tent before it collapsed."
Kael approached Seyda.
"You left the grain wagons intact."
She nodded. "You told me what mattered."
He didn't smile, but his gaze lingered—long enough to signal approval.
"Then you've earned your place."
Seyda bowed, one knee to the dirt.
"From ash to flame, Sovereign. We are yours."
Kael turned to the others. "See that the prisoners are fed. And send a scout to Duskwatch. Let them know we're coming next."
Elsewhere – Vellgaard Command Post, Duskwatch
The garrison commander stared at the remains of the charred imperial convoy dragged into the square.
He looked at the message carved into a splintered shield.
"The Red Veil passes before the Sovereign arrives."
He turned pale. "It's not just rebellion anymore."
His second-in-command swallowed. "What is it then, sir?"
The commander didn't answer.
He simply ordered more firewood for the ramparts—and summoned a priest to bless the gates.