The market streets were loud that morning, filled with the sound of clanging metal, people calling out prices, and the smell of roasted bread drifting through the air. Kael walked through the crowd with his hood up, hands deep in his pockets.
He kept his eyes low, moving like any other traveler. But his mind wasn't calm. The fight from the day before still played in his head—the way his blood had burned, the strange power that answered when he called it.
He didn't understand it, and he didn't trust it.
A group of blacksmiths laughed near a stall. Behind them, a few guards walked past, their armor dull with dust. Kael caught a few words from their conversation and slowed his pace.
"…heard about it last night. Jane's guild is back in motion," one of them said.
Another laughed. "She's angry this time. Someone embarrassed her."
"Who'd be stupid enough to do that?"
Kael stopped near a fruit stand, pretending to check the apples. The old woman behind the stand smiled kindly at him, unaware he was barely listening.
The guards kept walking, their voices fading. "They say it was Kael Draven. The one they called the Ghost. Didn't he die two years ago?"
Kael's hand froze on the apple.
The other guard replied, "Guess not. Word is, Jane's putting gold on his head again. Half the city's watching for him."
They disappeared around the corner, their laughter echoing faintly.
Kael stayed still for a long moment. His heartbeat slowed, heavy in his chest. He put the apple down and looked around carefully. Faces moved past him—merchants, travelers, children—but suddenly, every glance felt suspicious.
He muttered under his breath, "So, Jane… you still remember me."
A breeze carried dust down the narrow street. Kael pulled his hood tighter and began to walk again, slower this time, blending with the flow of people. He needed to think—he needed to know who Jane really was in this life, and why she wanted him gone.
As he turned a corner, a young boy bumped into him, nearly falling. Kael caught him by the arm.
"Watch where you're going," Kael said.
"Sorry, sir!" The boy looked nervous, but then whispered quickly, "They say Jane's men are looking for someone near the west gate. If you're new in town, don't go that way."
Kael's eyes narrowed. "How do you know that name?"
The boy shrugged. "Everyone knows her. She runs half the city's guilds. My uncle works for her."
Kael released him, and the boy ran off into the crowd.
The assassin stood still for a moment longer, then sighed. "So it begins again," he murmured. "New world, same enemies."
He turned toward the quieter part of town, his mind already planning his next move.
---
Across the city
In a high room of the same mansion, Jane stood near the window. The storm from the night before had cleared, leaving the rooftops wet and shining under the morning sun.
A servant entered, bowing. "Lady Jane, the guild is gathered downstairs."
Jane nodded once. "I'll be there."
She stayed by the window for another moment, her reflection faint against the glass. Her expression was calm, but inside, her thoughts churned like a slow fire.
Kael Draven.
The name alone was enough to pull old memories to the surface—memories she'd tried to bury.
Two years ago, she had been nothing more than an ambitious assassin under another guild's banner. Kael had been the leader then—the best of them. Everyone followed his word. Everyone admired his skill. Even she had, once.
Until he turned his back on them.
Jane still remembered the night it happened. Their team had been sent to finish a noble who had betrayed their employer. But the mission went wrong. The noble's child had run into the hall at the last moment. Kael had stopped—hesitated—and everything fell apart.
Half their group died in the chaos. The guild blamed her. Kael disappeared, leaving her to take the punishment.
She spent months rebuilding, crawling her way out of the ashes he'd left behind. The woman who once followed him learned to lead by herself—and to never trust anyone again.
Now he was alive. Alive and walking freely through the city that feared her.
She turned away from the window and headed downstairs.
---
The guild hall was dark, lit by torches and hanging lamps. Dozens of faces turned toward her when she entered—fighters, thieves, scouts, and spies. They sat around long tables covered in maps and coin pouches.
At the far end, Rex stood waiting.
He bowed slightly. "Reports from the west market, my lady. He was seen there this morning."
"Alone?"
"Yes. He moves quietly, but witnesses are certain. They saw his mark."
Jane sat at the head of the table. Her dagger lay beside her hand. "And the men I sent yesterday?"
Rex hesitated. "Gone. No bodies brought back. The city guard found what was left of the alley, but no trace of him."
Jane didn't flinch. She expected as much. "He's changed," she said simply. "He wouldn't have survived without help. Magic, perhaps."
The room fell silent. A few of the younger members exchanged nervous glances.
Jane's eyes swept over them. "Do not fear him. He bleeds like any of us. But he knows our ways. He'll use them against us. That's why we move first."
Rex stepped forward. "What do you wish done?"
Jane leaned back in her chair, thinking. The candlelight flickered across her face.
"I want information," she said finally. "No fights, no more dead men. I want to know where he sleeps, who he speaks to, and what he's planning."
Rex nodded. "And when we know?"
Jane's eyes hardened. "Then I'll decide whether to kill him—or use him."
The others shifted uncomfortably, but no one spoke.
After the meeting ended, Jane stayed behind alone. She picked up the dagger, turning it slowly between her fingers.
Her reflection looked back at her in the blade—tired, sharp, and unyielding.
"You taught me to be ruthless," she whispered to the empty room. "You left me behind to clean your mess. I survived your failure, Kael Draven. Now you'll live long enough to see what that made me."
She set the dagger down gently, her lips curling into a faint smile.
Outside, the city carried on as usual—merchants calling out, guards shouting, horses clattering through the streets—but inside that mansion, plans were already being drawn in ink and blood.
Kael's name was written again at the top of the list.
---
Back in the market district
Kael sat in a quiet corner of a small inn. The fire crackled in the hearth beside him. He had a bowl of soup untouched before him and a map laid out on the table.
He marked the places he'd passed that morning, his mind working faster than his hand.
"Jane's guild," he muttered. "She moves fast."
The innkeeper, a kindly old man cleaning mugs behind the counter, looked over. "You're not from here, are you? You've got the look of someone who's running from something."
Kael gave a tired smile. "Maybe running toward it."
He folded the map and stood, throwing a few coins on the counter. As he stepped out into the street again, he whispered under his breath,
"Jane, if you want me that badly… come and find me. Let's finish what we started."
The sky was turning red with the sunset, casting long shadows across the cobblestones. Somewhere beyond the rooftops, the mansion lights flickered to life again.
Two people, bound by the same past, now stood on opposite sides of the same city—each preparing for the other.
And in that silent tension between them, a new story was just beginning.