Chapter 5: Echoes of a Fall
983 AN
Aug 25
Zaun – The Silk Den, Margot's Quarters
The smell of perfume clashed with rust and sweat. Margot reclined on a velvet chaise, one leg lazily dangling off the side as she listened to a painted girl whisper the news.
"Strath surrendered. Just like that."
Margot raised a perfectly arched brow. "Surrendered or switched beds?"
The girl hesitated. Margot waved her off.
"Men like Strath always fold when the wind changes. Still... a girl forcing his hand? That's new."
She glanced at a framed mirror, adjusting her lipstick. A smile tugged at her lips.
"Perhaps it's time I invited our little firestarter to tea."
Margot ran most of Zaun's red-light districts, her hold on the city built on silk sheets, whispered secrets, and debts paid in flesh. She was neither sadist nor saint — just someone who understood the economy of desire. People liked to think of her as a temptress. That suited her just fine. It kept them from seeing the blade beneath the velvet.
She stood, trailing fingers across a map pinned on her wall. "East dock… taken. And Strath's folded. Bold little thing, isn't she?"
Behind her, her lieutenant, a tall man with ink running down his neck, asked, "Should we move?"
Margot's eyes gleamed. "Not yet. Let's see how she handles the next bite."
A knock came at the door. Another one of her girls entered, carrying a small pouch of distillate and a whisper. "There's movement in Meat Row. Renni's stirring."
Margot's gaze sharpened. "Then the pot's begun to boil."
She turned to the lieutenant again. "Tell our girls on the west block to keep their eyes open. And see if that new chem-batch from Synthe is ready. We'll need options."
—
Zaun – Meat Row, Renni's Pit
The thud of flesh against flesh echoed in the fighting pit. Renni watched from a balcony above, her arms crossed, eyes sharp.
A courier knelt before her.
"Strath lost the dock. He's bent knee to Ashryn."
Renni spat over the edge.
"Coward. She won't touch me."
The courier hesitated. "People say she's not like the others."
Renni leaned in, voice low. "No one touches my chain. She comes for it, I'll break her like the rest."
The fight below ended in blood. Renni didn't blink.
Renni ran the slave circuit — auctions in the shadows, ownership papers written in blood, guards trained like dogs. She had built her empire on suffering, and saw no reason to stop. To her, Ashryn was just another spark destined to die out.
She cracked her knuckles, then shouted down into the pit. "Bring out the twins. I want to see something break."
Her guards exchanged nervous glances. No one argued.
As she lit a long-stemmed pipe, her second-in-command leaned in. "If she comes for you—"
Renni snorted. "Then I'll make an example out of her. Like I did to Brann, remember him?"
"Brann screamed."
"Exactly."
She exhaled smoke and leaned back into her chair.
Alone with her thoughts she muttered "you've grown. Let's see how far you've come."
—
Zaun – Smeech's Tower
The yordle's office looked more like a vault than a workspace—piles of contracts, ledgers, and distillate vials stacked with eerie precision. Smeech's goggles glowed faintly in the dim light.
He leaned over a desk as his assistant read the report.
"The girl took the eastern dock. Strath surrendered."
Smeech twitched his whiskers.
"How old is she again?"
"Twenty, they say. Maybe younger."
Smeech tapped a ledger.
"And clever. That's dangerous."
He scribbled a note in Zaunite shorthand: Interest – conditional.
"Let's see if she offers better rates."
Smeech wasn't violent. He didn't need to be. His trade was debt — legal or otherwise. Every alley in Zaun owed him something. Interest compounded like rot, and those who didn't pay usually vanished. He treated numbers like scripture, and Zaun like his calculator.
Behind him, projection crystals flickered with the latest reports: supply lines shifting, tariffs raised, and dock traffic rerouted.
He nodded. "Predictable volatility. Let's see if she stabilizes, or implodes."
His assistant hesitated. "Sir, if she consolidates the eastern side, she could gain leverage on the Shatterline. That affects even our holdings."
Smeech blinked slowly. "Let her try. Leverage works both ways. And remember—she doesn't know how many debts I've bought."
—
Zaun – Finn's Hideout
A dagger sank into the table. Another followed. And another.
Finn stood shirtless, muscles taut, eyes wild. His gang circled him like carrion birds.
"She thinks she can carve me out of Zaun?"
No one spoke.
"Then let her come. I'll carve her name into my floorboards after I tear her spine out."
The gang laughed, but uneasily.
Finn ran assassinations. He didn't bother with trade or territory. You paid, someone died. He handled his business through fear, blood, and a reputation sharpened over a decade. The idea of someone taking over was insulting — especially a girl. He'd kill her just to prove a point.
He turned to one of his lieutenants. "Send someone to shadow her. I want to know when she breathes funny."
"Should we hit her supply?"
"Not yet. Let her think she's winning."
He sat back, exhaling. "She's going to make a mistake. They all do."
Then, quieter, almost to himself, "And when she does... we'll bury her under the bodies."
—
Zaun – Ashryn's War Room
Ashryn was chewing a stick of something vaguely sweet as she stared at the map. She nudged a pin forward with one finger.
"So... they've heard."
Cael looked up from a report. "Reactions match expectations. Margot's interested. Renni's fuming. Smeech is watching. Finn's... Finn."
Lynne handed over another sealed envelope. "Word's spreading fast."
Ashryn clicked her tongue. "Perfect. Let 'em sweat a little."
She tapped the map again. "Next."
Her eyes scanned the borders like she was looking at a half-played board game.
Cael grinned. "You always this cheerful after making enemies?"
Ashryn snorted. "What's the point of winning if you're not having fun?"
Lynne raised an eyebrow. "You really want to poke all of them at once?"
Ashryn shrugged. "They're slow. If I wait, they'll just dig in. Better to keep them moving while I dance circles around them."
Cael chuckled. "You planning a dance now?"
She winked. "Depends. Got music?"
Lynne shook her head. "Should I prep a formal declaration?"
Ashryn leaned back. "Nah. That sounds like something a councilor would do. I'd rather wait till I have something worth shouting about."
Cael added, "Besides, declarations make noise. Let's keep things quiet until the last domino drops."
Ashryn crossed her arms. "It took years to build this mess. This is step one, and people are already scrambling. Let's see how long before someone slips."
—