1 The Boy Who Smiled at Ashes
The Boy Who Smiled at AshesThe Kareth Estate burned with a beauty that would have made poets weep.
Twelve-year-old Vex Kareth sat cross-legged on a nearby hill, watching the orange flames devour everything he'd ever known. The main mansion collapsed with a sound like the world breaking, sending embers spiraling into the night sky like dying stars.
Somewhere in that inferno were his parents, his two brothers, his baby sister, and the seventeen servants who'd raised him.
He took a bite of the apple he'd found growing wild near the hillside.
It was a good apple. Crisp. Sweet.
"You're taking this rather well," said a voice behind him.
Vex didn't turn around. He'd sensed the presence ten minutes ago—an old man with a peculiar scent of ozone and blood.
Dangerous, certainly. But everyone was dangerous compared to a twelve-year-old boy sitting alone in the dark.
"Should I be crying?" Vex asked, his voice carrying that easy, lilting quality that had always made his tutors nervous.
"Screaming? Tearing at my clothes and cursing the heavens?"
"Most would."
"Most are boring." Vex finally glanced back.
The old man wore the crimson robes of an Executor from the Crimson Spire—one of the seven great powers that divided the Fold Realms like jackals over a corpse. His face was weathered as old leather, but his eyes held the sharp gleam of someone who'd killed more people than he'd had hot meals.
"You're one of them," Vex observed. "One of the people who did this."
"I am."
"Why?"
"Your father stole something from Lord Kaine. Something irreplaceable. We asked for it back. He refused. This is what refusal costs in our world, boy."
Vex nodded slowly, as if the old man had just explained a simple mathematical equation. "I see. And me? Why am I still alive?"
The Executor's lips twitched—not quite a smile. "Lord Kaine wanted you to witness. To understand. The Kareth bloodline ends tonight, but you get to carry the memory of why."
"How generous."
"Mock if you wish. You're alone now, boy. No family. No fortune. No future. You're twelve years old in a world that eats children like candy." The old man turned to leave. "Die well, Vex Kareth. Or don't. Either way, you don't matter anymore."
Vex watched him walk away, his crimson robes fading into the darkness beyond the firelight. Then he took another bite of his apple and smiled—a wide, genuine smile that would have chilled anyone who saw it.
"Twelve years old," he murmured to himself.
"No family. No fortune. No future."
The flames reflected in his eyes, dancing like demons at a celebration.
"How... liberating."
He stood up, brushing ash from his simple nightclothes. The Executor was wrong about one thing. Vex did matter. He'd always mattered. His father had known it. His mother had feared it. Even his combat instructor had quit after six months, unable to meet Vex's eyes during their sessions.
They'd all sensed something wrong with him. Something that smiled when it should have wept. Something that found fascination in cruelty while maintaining the face of an innocent child.
His family had died tonight. Vex felt... curious about that. The way one might feel curious about an interesting insect. There was a hollow space where grief should live, and in that space, something else was growing. Something with teeth.
"Lord Kaine of the Crimson Spire," he said, tasting the name. Testing it. "And the Executor who smells like ozone and blood."
He'd remember them both.
The Fold Realms were vast—a thousand floating continents connected by reality-warping gates, each with their own laws, their own powers, their own monsters. The strong devoured the weak. The rich crushed the poor. The noble families played their games while cities burned and children starved.
His father had been weak. That's why he'd died.
Vex would not be weak.
He took one last look at the burning estate, committing the sight to memory. Then he turned and walked into the darkness, whistling a cheerful tune his baby sister used to hum.
Somewhere in the distance, a wild dog howled.
Vex smiled.
"Twelve years old," he said to the night.
"That gives me plenty of time."
Time to grow strong. Time to learn. Time to hunt.
And when he was ready—when he'd become something even the Crimson Spire would fear—he'd return to that Executor and Lord Kaine with a smile on his face and ask them a simple question:
Was it worth it?
But that was for later. For now, Vex had a whole wide world to explore, skills to master, and a reputation to build. After all, revenge was best served cold, and he was in no hurry.
He had all the time in the world.
[End of Chapter 1]