Back at Emberwatch Fortress, the sun dipped beneath the charred horizon, casting the old stone in molten gold. The once-roaring den-hunting expedition had fallen silent, its echoes replaced by the weight of loss trailing behind the few who had returned.
Shakes Burnedead sat motionless in the Grand Chamber, his back straight against the cold steel of the Chair of Decree. His cloak, still laced with the ash of battle, draped over him like a funeral shroud. Severflame, his ever-burning blade, leaned against his shoulder. Its once-vibrant ember hue had dulled, flickering as if mourning. He looked like a soldier at rest—but inside, the war still raged.
Beside him stood Vellion Lynx. Her sharp eyes weren't on the Commander's vacant seat, but on the subtle red glow emanating from Shakes' back. The fire of rage had not yet died. It trembled at the edge of his skin, pulsing just beneath the surface.
The chamber doors creaked open, echoing with finality. Commander Ryzen entered, his weathered face drawn with exhaustion. He moved to his seat with a groan, the weight of leadership pressing heavily on his shoulders.
"Welcome back, Burnedead," he said, folding his arms across his chest. "How did the last mission go?"
Shakes didn't flinch. His voice was cold, measured—like steel drawn in the dead of night.
"The den was different this time," he said. "There were Ashborns."
Ryzen's expression shifted. A shadow crossed his eyes. "Ashborns?" he echoed, the word tasting bitter on his tongue.
"Yes. And not just one or two. A nest. Organized. Evolved," Shakes replied, each word heavier than the last.
Ryzen leaned forward, tension brimming beneath his calm. "And who is this?" he asked, gesturing to Vellion.
She stepped forward, voice steady despite the weight of old memories. "My name is Vellion Lynx. Born of the Lynx family. When I was thirteen, the Ashborn found us. They didn't just kill. They turned my family—and others—into something else. Twisted. Broken."
Her eyes gleamed with restrained fury, though her voice never wavered.
"I ran. I was the only one who escaped. I survived And I met Shakes along the way."
Ryzen's gaze shifted back to Shakes, more suspicious now. "You vouch for her?"
Shakes finally rose from the chair, the faint grind of Severflame scraping metal floor behind him.
"She knows more than she says. And her knowledge is tied to what's coming. I don't trust her but I prefer giving her a chance."
With that, he turned and left the chamber, Severflame dragging slightly, its dying embers hissing like whispers of war.
—
Outside, the echo of his footsteps faded into the steel corridors. Two figures appeared at the gate—Lucen and Zera—returning from their solo assignment.
Zera spotted Shakes immediately. His shoulders were stiff, his stride slower than usual. She stepped forward instinctively but stopped when she saw the distant look in his eyes. Something was wrong. She opened her mouth to call out—but the words died in her throat.
That night, Emberwatch was silent.
Shakes lay in bed, but sleep avoided him like a curse. His thoughts twisted with every breath—Vellion's story, the Ashborn nest, and the strange marking he'd seen in hollow chambers. But more than anything, the faces of those he could not afford to lose haunted his mind like ghosts.
He sat up, muscles tense. The silence around him was too loud to bear.
Without a word, he grabbed Severflame and slipped from his room, heading for the training hall.
—
The hall was empty. Cold. Lit only by a single overhead light. The smell of old sweat and scorched padding lingered in the air. He stepped into the center, unsheathed Severflame, and let the sword breathe.
It hummed in his hand, pulsing with a rhythm that matched his own unrest.
He began to swing.
Each slash was a word unsaid. Each motion, a cry he refused to release. The fire inside him spoke in bursts of ember and steel.
Behind the door, a soft voice interrupted.
"Having trouble sleeping?"
He stopped mid-swing but didn't turn. "What do you want, Zera?"
She opened the door and stepped in quietly, arms crossed. "You seemed off today. Not like the Shakes I know."
He lowered the blade but didn't face her. "People change."
She approached slowly, boots soft on the floor. "Are you… worried?"
That got his attention. He turned, eyes narrowing. "Why would I be?"
Her cheeks flushed. "No—I meant I was worried about you. You looked like you were carrying everything on your back."
She paused. "It scared me."
Unseen behind the slightly ajar door, Vellion stood. She had followed the faint flicker of Severflame—and now she listened, every word imprinted in her memory.
Shakes exhaled, sitting cross-legged on the mat. He set Severflame down and grabbed a water bottle. Zera sat beside him, her presence calm but curious.
"What's really wrong?" she asked, gentler now.
Shakes stared ahead, silent for a long moment.
Finally, his grip on the bottle tightened.
"I won't stop until I burn them all," he muttered. "Every last Ashborn. I don't care what it costs."
Zera blinked, startled by the venom in his voice. But something in her chest fluttered.
She smiled faintly. "Now that sounds like the Shakes I know."
He didn't return the smile, but the fire in his eyes dimmed—if only slightly. "We'll support you," she said, her voice firm. "Whatever comes, we're in this together."
The moment lingered.
Then the door creaked.
Zera turned, but there was no one there.
Vellion had already vanished into the shadows.
—
She walked briskly down the corridor, her thoughts racing. She'd heard enough. Shakes wasn't just preparing for another mission. He was preparing for war. Something darker loomed—and he knew it.
Vellion reached her room, closed the door, and leaned against it, breath shaky. She had survived horrors—but this felt different.
This felt like the beginning of something worse.
—
Back in the training hall, Shakes stood again, pacing now.
"There's something I didn't tell Ryzen."
Zera raised a brow. "What do you mean?"
"In that den… there was a marking. Burned into the stone. Like a summoning circle. It was old. Ancient. Not natural."
Zera's eyes widened. "You think someone is behind the Ashborn?"
"I don't think," Shakes said. "I know. They're not just evolving. Someone's guiding them. Feeding them power. We're not hunting wild beasts anymore."
"We're at war with something that wants the world turned to ash."
Zera stood, the fire in her eyes matching his. "Then we prepare. Together."
Before he could respond, an alarm blared across the Fortress—shrill and urgent.
Red lights strobed down the corridor.
A voice echoed through the intercom:
"All available Hunters to the war room. This is not a drill."
Zera and Shakes exchanged a glance.
No words were needed.
He snatched Severflame, its ember glow reigniting, brighter than before.
They ran.
—
The war room was chaos. Commanders and strategists rushed between screens and consoles. At the center, Commander Ryzen stood before a massive projection, red spikes lighting up the map like wildfire.
He turned as Shakes, Zera, Lucen, and Vellion arrived.
"We've got a breach," he said, grim. "Three clicks south. Inside a civilian area. A den just opened—unnaturally."
Shakes narrowed his eyes. "That's impossible. Den magic doesn't work that way unless—"
"Unless someone inside the city made it happen," Ryzen finished.
He tapped a button. A flickering image appeared on the screen—a hooded figure with a grin like a knife.
Vellion froze. Suddenly she became unsettled. The presence alone said alot.
Vellion stepped closer, voice low. "Who is that?"
Shakes clenched his jaw. "I don't know."
"But I'm going to find out."
The screen went dark.
"Suit up," Ryzen barked. "You leave in ten minutes."
Everyone moved.
Except Shakes.
He stood still, staring at the screen long after it faded.
The flame behind his eyes was no longer just rage—it was purpose.
"I'll make sure you burn," he whispered.
To be continued…