Recap
Riven's meeting with the man in the green coat ended in a deadly two-on-one stairwell fight — and a desperate drop through rotting wood into the common room. Injured and drenched in ale, he escaped into the rain-slick streets of Blackstone… but the knight and her ally aren't his only pursuers.
Part 1 — Rain and Footsteps
The rain in Blackstone didn't fall — it crawled.
It seeped into the cracks between the cobblestones, slid down slate rooftops, and whispered through narrow alleys like it had secrets to tell.
Riven's boots splashed through shallow puddles, his breath clouding in the cold night air. His ribs ached from the fall, every inhale a dull stab. But he didn't slow.
The sword murmured in his head. "Two behind. One ahead."
Riven didn't ask how it knew. The blade had a way of feeling intent — the kind of sharp focus predators carried in their eyes before they struck.
A flicker of motion to his left — a silhouette leaning in a doorway.
Too still to be drunk. Too patient to be harmless.
Riven kept moving, counting his steps until the alley widened into a small square lit by a single lantern swinging in the wind. He was halfway across when he heard it:
A third set of footsteps, perfectly in sync with his own.
Part 2 — The Shadow Who Waited
The rhythm of the footsteps didn't break, not even when Riven stopped.
They stopped too.
The rain hissed against the cobblestones, the swinging lantern throwing restless shadows over the square. Somewhere nearby, a shutter banged in the wind.
Riven turned slowly.
The figure was there — half-shrouded by a dark cloak, hood drawn low enough to hide their face. But the way they stood… it was wrong. Too relaxed for a street tough, too confident for a hired killer.
The sword's voice was quiet now. "Not the green coat. Not the knight. This one knows you."
A chill slid down Riven's spine. "Come to collect my head?"
The figure's reply was soft, almost playful. "If I wanted that, you'd already be on the ground."
They stepped into the lantern light — and the hood fell back.
A woman. Late teens, maybe his age. Dark hair clung to her face in the rain, her eyes bright with something between amusement and danger. She wore no armor, no weapon at her side… yet Riven couldn't shake the sense that she was more lethal than either of his previous attackers.
"I heard you were in Blackstone," she said. "Figured I'd say hello before the others caught you."
"Others?" Riven asked.
She smiled — the kind of smile that never meant good news.
"They're close. And you're hurt. Which means you're going to need me… even if you don't trust me."
Part 3 — Offer in the Rain
Riven didn't move. The square felt smaller now, the rain heavier, the lantern's light suddenly too sharp.
The girl tilted her head. "You're bleeding," she said casually, as if pointing out a loose button. "And limping."
"I'll live."
"Not for long." She took a step closer, her boots barely making a sound on the wet stone. "The knight and the green coat aren't working alone. Blackstone is a nest, and you just kicked it. Every alley you turn down from now on will have someone in it."
"Then I'll keep turning until I find an empty one."
She laughed — a quick, sharp sound. "Or… you could take my hand."
The sword in his grip seemed to tighten around his fingers. "No. She's not here to save you. She's here to claim you."
Riven's eyes narrowed. "And what's in it for you?"
She didn't answer right away. Instead, she reached into her cloak and pulled out something small — a shard of dull metal etched with a faint symbol. She tossed it to him.
He caught it. The mark was familiar, though he couldn't place it.
"Let's just say," she said, "we both want the same person dead. And he's not in this square."
The sword's whisper was colder now. "One of the six. This is the first. Decide quickly, Riven — friend or predator?"
Part 4 — The Choice Under the Lantern
The rain slid down her cheekbones like glass. She didn't flinch under his stare, didn't shift her weight, didn't even blink. She simply waited.
Somewhere in the distance, footsteps multiplied. Not two. Not three. A crowd. The sound of boots splashing through puddles, voices murmuring low, steel brushing against steel.
She extended her hand again.
The sword's voice was a blade in his mind. "Reject her. She's poison in silk."
But Riven's ribs burned. His muscles ached. The cold gnawed through his coat. If the crowd caught him in this square, he'd be finished.
Another whisper in his head — this time, not the sword's. You can't outrun all of them. Not tonight.
He took a step forward.
Her hand didn't tremble when he grasped it, but her smile grew just slightly — like a cat watching a bird land on its paw.
The crowd rounded the corner. Shapes emerged in the mist — men and women armed, moving as one.
She leaned in, her lips close to his ear. "Follow me. And whatever you do, don't look back."
Then she pulled him into the nearest alley, vanishing into the rain.
Preview for Chapter 7
Riven doesn't know if the girl in the rain is leading him to safety or deeper into the city's trap. But the further they run, the stranger the streets become — and the more the city itself seems to turn against him.
Call to Action
If you're enjoying the tension, hit that follow and drop your theories — who is she, really? Ally, enemy… or the first betrayal waiting to happen?