Chapter 25 – A Mark of Shadows
The courtyard still echoed with the final clash of fists and aether. The remains of the skirmish—a cracked pillar, splintered stone, and two unconscious, masked attackers—served as the only proof of the chaos that had unfolded.
Liam and Kaela stood together in silence, breathing heavily.
Kaela knelt down beside one of the fallen assailants. "Their cloaks… look at this stitching." She tugged at the sleeve gently. "This isn't local or civilian-grade material."
Liam leaned over, curious. "What do you mean?"
Kaela's fingers brushed over a patch sewn into the shoulder—an embroidered eye half-shrouded in darkness. The moment her gaze landed on it, her expression shifted.
"This symbol…" she murmured. "I've seen it before… I didn't recognize the name when one of them whispered it earlier, but now…"
She stood up slowly. "Black Veil. That's what they called themselves."
"Black Veil?" Liam echoed, confused.yeah that's what he said. But "Who are they?"
Kaela looked at him, now pale with realization. "They're not just any group. They're... dangerous. That insignia is tied to a rogue faction once affiliated with the Syndicate. Assassins, mostly. Independent now. And deadly."
Liam's brow furrowed. "So... you're saying they weren't random attackers?"
"No," Kaela said softly.
---
Later that evening...
At Dreck's House
Liam sat on the floor of the training chamber. He was bruised, tired, but burning with questions. Dreck paced in front of him with arms crossed, a blade resting across his shoulder.
"They wore strange black cloaks," Liam said. "One of them had an eye symbol, half-covered. Kaela called them the Black Veil. I've never heard of them."
At the mention of the name, Dreck stopped moving.
He turned, staring sharply at Liam. "Say that again."
"Black Veil," Liam repeated. "That's what Kaela said."
Dreck slowly lowered the blade to the floor. His voice dropped to a more serious tone. "So… you've already encountered them.
"Who are they?" Liam asked, uneasy.
"An execution force that split from the Syndicate years ago," Dreck replied. "Unofficial. Uncontrolled. They're made up of highly-trained assassins that answer to no one. They strike silently, and they don't take prisoners."
Liam's eyes widened slightly. "And we beat two of them?"
Dreck gave a dry chuckle. "Barely. And only the weakest of them. But the fact that you did... that's a problem."
He turned away briefly, then added, "It also means you've grown. More than I thought. Still... that won't be the end of it."
"What do you mean?" Liam asked.
"They'll come back," Dreck said. "Now that you've touched one of their own, they'll mark you. Expect more attacks—and not just on the training ground."
Liam tensed, but Dreck placed a hand on his shoulder.
"That's not a bad thing. Trouble with the Black Veil means your training just got real."
---
At Kaela's House
Kaela sat with her knees pulled up on the couch, a blanket wrapped around her shoulders. Lucas leaned against the wall across from her, arms crossed, waiting.
"They came out of nowhere," she began. "Fast, coordinated. Wearing cloaks made from combat fabric. But it wasn't until I saw their shoulder patch that I remembered the symbol."
Lucas' expression darkened. "Describe it."
"An eye. Half-covered in shadow," she replied. "Black embroidery. Subtle but unmistakable."
Lucas stood upright. "Black Veil."
Kaela nodded. "I didn't realize at first when one of them whispered the name during the fight. It didn't click until I saw the symbol. I've only ever heard of them in a few restricted files."
"They're not just a group underground," Lucas said, his voice hard. "They're a statement. A declaration that something's worth eliminating. The fact that you defeated one of them means you've —and that makes you dangerous to someone."
Kaela stayed silent, absorbing that.
Then Lucas gave a small nod of approval. "You survived an ambush from trained killers. That's no small feat. Even if they were the weakest in their order, you're no longer just a student."
She looked up. "So what now?"
The moon hung low over the city, casting its cold light across the rooftops. Inside his room, Liam sat by the window, turning the black fabric cloak over in his hands. The material felt different now. He wasn't just holding a piece of cloth—he was holding a symbol, a warning, maybe even a target.
He clenched it tighter.
---
At Dreck's Training Chamber
Dreck knelt by the wall, unfolding a scroll that displayed a series of insignias and ranks. He tapped the one marked with a half-shrouded eye.
"The Black Veil was once a hidden arm of the Syndicate," he said. "Used for operations too brutal or too secret for even the main body to claim. When they started going off-mission, eliminating targets based on personal vendettas or ideology, the Syndicate severed them."
"Did they just... go rogue?" Liam asked.
"Exactly. But they kept the training. The structure. The philosophy. They've become a cult of sorts—believing they decide what should exist in this world and what should vanish in silence."
Liam exhaled sharply, processing the weight of that.
"You're telling me we took down two of those people?"
Dreck nodded. "They were bottom-rankers. Initiates, maybe. But even that's dangerous. If word spreads that two of their own were beaten, they'll take it personally."
"They'll come for us," Liam murmured.
"They will," Dreck said bluntly. "You and Kaela just marked yourselves. That cloak you're holding? That's more than a trophy—it's a declaration. You're on their list now."
Liam looked down again at the cloth in his hand. The stitching seemed to pulse in the dim light, like it remembered.
Dreck stood, placing a firm hand on his shoulder. "But that's okay. From now on, your training isn't just about preparation—it's about survival. The real world just knocked on your door."
---
At Lucas' Study
Lucas poured himself a cup of dark tea, the steam curling as he sat beside the fireplace. Kaela remained curled up, still wrapped in her blanket but more alert now.
"Why didn't anyone stop them earlier?" she asked. "If the Black Veil's this dangerous, why hasn't the Syndicate or someone else put them down?"
Lucas tilted his head slightly. "Because assassins who hide in shadows are harder to kill than those who stand in the light. The Syndicate tried, once. It cost them more than they gained."
Kaela frowned. "So we're just... targets now?"
Lucas met her gaze. "Yes. But not helpless targets."
He stood and retrieved a small, locked box from a shelf. Unlocking it, he revealed a set of metal tags—tokens etched with strange glyphs.
"These are resonance identifiers," he said. "They pick up trace aether patterns. You'll start wearing one. They won't protect you, but they'll tell me when you're in danger."
Kaela took one gently, the metal oddly warm in her palm.
"They won't stop," she said quietly.
"No," Lucas agreed. "But neither will we. Let them come. Each time they do, you'll be stronger. Faster. Smarter. If they th
ink you're just another mark, let's prove them wrong."
Lucas gave her a faint smile. "Now? Now it's real. You're allowed to cause trouble with them. Let it escalate. Every encounter is a trial—and this time, it's more than a lesson."