Avar knelt by his mother's bedside, his small hands clutching the beef jerky as if it were a lifeline. The woman Hera, as Avar had whispered earlier, lay propped on threadbare pillows. Her sunken eyes reflected a lifetime of hardship. Her skin was sallow, her breaths labored, but there was a quiet strength in her gaze as she looked at the strangers who had saved her son.
Hera's weak smile faded as she studied Magnus's imposing figure and Rhea's watchful stance. "Who… who are you?" she asked, her voice a fragile whisper laced with suspicion and exhaustion. "Strangers don't come here without reason. If you're from the criminals… please, leave my boy alone. He's all I have left in this godforsaken world."
Magnus stepped forward, his crimson eyes softening as he knelt to her level, careful not to loom. "We're not with them," he said gently, his voice a low rumble tempered by unexpected empathy. "I'm Magnus, and this is Rhea. We helped Avar because no child should suffer like that. We're outsiders, here to uncover the truth about this place about Valisar. We mean no harm. We want to understand, and to help if we can." "Madam you rest no need to get up"
Hera's eyes widened slightly, a flicker of hope mingling with fear. She glanced at Avar, who nodded encouragingly, still munching on the jerky. "Mom, they gave me food. Real food. The man stopped the shopkeeper from hurting me. They're… they're good people."
Hera took another small bite of the jerky Avar offered, her hands trembling as she chewed. "This… this is kind of you," she murmured, savoring the salty flavor that seemed to bring a hint of color back to her cheeks. "We haven't had meat in weeks. Thank you. It's like a dream of something from the old days." Her voice cracked; tears welled as she looked at her son, her gaunt face etched with love and regret. "Avar, my brave boy… you shouldn't have to steal for me. I'm sorry… so sorry for putting you through this. I wish I could be stronger for you."
Avar hugged her arm tightly, his own eyes misty, his small voice breaking. "It's okay, Mom. I love you. I just want you to get better. Please eat more, it'll help, right? The man said it would."
Magnus watched the exchange, a rare feeling stirring in his chest. He had known betrayal and blood, but this mother's quiet despair and her son's innocent devotion struck him like a hidden blade. For the first time, he truly felt the weight of their suffering, in a deep ache that made his rage burn hotter. Rhea stood silent beside him, her grey eyes shadowed with uncharacteristic empathy, fingers twitching on her dagger as if aching to lash out at the invisible forces causing this pain. She swallowed hard, her usual stoicism cracking for a moment as the injustice pierced her like a blade.
Hera sighed and gathered her strength, voice trembling with memory. "The truth about Valisar… where to begin? Once upon a time, this was a beautiful place. Flowers bloomed in every garden, neighbors shared bread, and the streets rang with laughter, not screams. The kingdom was prosperous, its leaders fair, or so we believed. I remember playing in those gardens as a child, picking roses without a care, watching families picnic under the sun. But that was before the criminals came."
Her voice grew bitter; tears traced lines down her cheeks, and her thin shoulders shook. "They started as whispers smugglers in the undercity, gangs demanding 'protection' fees. Then they grew bolder, capturing the city's heart. Valisar's officials turned a blind eye, or worse, took bribes from groups like the Gilded Ledger. Now the rich live in golden towers while we rot here. They beat us for sport, steal our food, kill for a single zerk. My husband… he tried to fight back, and they slit his throat in front of Avar."
She choked on a sob, clutching Avar closer. "I can still hear his gasps, see the blood… and Avar's screams that night. I don't want this child to suffer that kind of hell. He's all I have left, my light in the darkness. Every day I pray for a way out, but… there's none."
Magnus's fists clenched at his sides. In his mind, he snarled, They're going to pay. For the first time, he felt the weight of true emotion not the cold calculation of an assassin, but a burning empathy for people who suffered. "This is wrong," he whispered, voice thick with fury and sorrow, his crimson eyes misting slightly. "No one should live like this. Not you, not Avar, not anyone."
Rhea's voice was soft and uncharacteristically shaky. "We've seen darkness, but this… this is a different kind of evil. How do they get away with it?"
Hera wiped her tears and lowered her voice as if the walls had ears. "There's a strong figure, the boss of this place. His name is Hardard the Fury. He's a monster, scarred and cruel, ruling the undercity with iron and flame. The kingdom lets him because he lines their pockets. The Gilded Ledger funnels gold through him, hiring assassins like the Black Veil to silence anyone who resists."
"Hardard," Magnus echoed, committing the name to memory. "And who is the woman with the quill ring? The one who slithers in his shadow?"
Hera paled, her voice smaller and trembling. "Lyra Danils. Second in command. She's cunning and ruthless, she handles the deals, the bribes. If Hardard is the fist, she's the dagger in the dark. Please, don't go after them. They'll kill you, and then us for talking. I've seen what they do… families torn apart, children left orphaned like ghosts in the streets."
The conversation turned darker as Hera described raids, homes burned for unpaid 'tolls,' and people dragged into the undercity's tunnels never to return. "They come in the night," she said, voice quivering. "They drag people away. My neighbor begged for her daughter, and they laughed as they took her. I hear her screams in my dreams."
Avar listened wide-eyed, clutching his mother's hand. "Mom, will they come for us too?" he whispered.
Hera pulled him close, tears falling into his hair. "I won't let them, my love. Not while I breathe."
Hera's eyes softened with hope, though fear lingered. "If you challenge them, be careful. Valisar's beauty is a lie the kingdom profits from our pain. Promise me you'll come back… for Avar's sake."
As the candle burned low, Magnus rose. "We'll help you," he promised, voice choked with emotion. "Get stronger, Hera. Avar, protect your mom." He left a few zerk coins and more jerky; the boy's grateful hug stirred an unfamiliar warmth in him.
"Thank you, mister," Avar whispered, tears in his eyes.
Outside, the city's contrast hit harder, the merry markets a cruel mask for the slums' hell. Magnus and Rhea returned to the tavern as night fell, the inn's warm lights a temporary refuge. They went to their rooms and drew hot baths to wash away the day's grime. The steam soothed Magnus's muscles, while his mind raced with plans.
Afterward, they met in the common room for dinner. The innkeeper served a special dish: Flame-Kissed Dragon Stew tender meat simmered in fiery peppers, rich broth, and exotic spices, garnished with golden crisps and fresh herbs. The flavors exploded; the meat melted on the tongue.
"It's delicious, innkeeper," Magnus said, savoring a spoonful.
The innkeeper bowed slightly. "It's an honor to serve, my lord."
Magnus slid fifty zerk across the table, more than enough for the meal and rooms. "Keep the change."
Later, Magnus knocked on Rhea's door and entered to plan. Her room was simple — a bed, a table, and a flickering lantern. Rhea sat sharpening her dagger, her grey eyes meeting his crimson ones. "What's the plot?" she asked, leaning forward.
Magnus unfolded a scroll on the table, a sinister smile returning. "We don't rush in blind — this kingdom is smarter than it looks. First, we scout the undercity quietly: map entrances, guard rotations, and weak points. Use your Black Veil skills for stealth; I'll handle the shadows with Phantom Lotus Steps. We identify Lyra and Hardard's lair, learn their routines who they meet, where they store the ledger. No kills yet gather intel on the Valisar kingdom's ties to the Gilded Ledger. If we spot patrols or traps, note them. We'll pose as merchants or beggars to blend in and eavesdrop. Once we have the layout, we plan the strike: hit their hub at night when they're vulnerable, cut off escapes, take Lyra alive for questioning, and end Hardard. But remember, this is the scouting phase. No ambush until we're ready."
Rhea nodded, eyes gleaming. "Smart. Valisar's undercity is a maze, one wrong move, and we're dead."
Magnus's crimson eyes burned. "They won't see us coming. The kingdom's shadows will break under our blades."
To be continued in Chapter 14…