CHAPTER 9: Ash and Order
Duskwatch Fortress – One Week After the Siege
The blood had been scrubbed from the stones.
Mostly.
Within the walls of Duskwatch, the scent of charred oil and crushed violets lingered like ghosts—reminders that victory, no matter how fierce, never comes clean.
Kael stood atop the ramparts, watching supply carts rumble through the gate. Refugees, merchants, and exiles followed behind them in a steady trickle. Word had spread: the fortress was open—not just to warriors, but to the forgotten.
A boy with hollow cheeks bowed low as he passed Kael.
He bowed not like a soldier.
But like a subject.
Duskwatch Keep – Command Hall
"What do we do with the prisoners?" Myrren asked.
"The soldiers?" Kael said.
"Yes. Sixty remain. Some just boys. Some killers."
Kael looked over the scrolls—food ledgers, forge inventories, patrol rotations. He sighed. "Give the oath-breakers a choice: serve or be sent south in chains."
"And if they try to flee?"
"Then we hang them by the gate."
Dren snorted. "You're getting better at this, Sovereign."
Seyda entered next, veil lowered. "A group of pilgrims came from Ashmoor. Said they walked seven days for a glimpse of the 'Ashborn Sovereign.'"
"I told you not to spread that name."
"I didn't," she said, smiling. "Others did."
The Lower Quarters – Conflict Brews
In the market square, tensions flared.
Rebel foragers argued with ex-imperial artisans. Red Veil acolytes gave out scorched tokens and "blessing marks" to willing folk—while Myrren's veteran soldiers warned of cultish influence.
At dusk, two blacksmiths brawled in the streets—one loyal to the Flame Church, the other a Red Veil sympathizer.
Kael intervened himself.
He separated them with force, bloodied his knuckles, and dragged them both before the forge crowd.
"I didn't burn Duskwatch to trade one god's leash for another," he barked. "You want to fight over faith? Do it outside my walls. Or dig latrines for the rest of your damn lives."
No one argued after that.
But the divide remained.
Late Night – Duskwatch Chapel
Kael wandered into the chapel alone. Half the stained-glass had been shattered in the battle. Burnt pews littered the nave.
He found Seyda seated before the cracked altar, a small flame cupped in her palm.
"You're turning this place into something strange," he said.
"It was strange long before me," she replied. "They just gave it prettier names."
He sat beside her, watching the fire dance.
"You believe in me."
"I believe in what you are."
Kael raised an eyebrow. "What's that?"
Seyda smiled faintly.
"The proof that no god ever saved us. But we can still be saved."
Elsewhere – Whispers in the Shadows
In the lower barracks, a pair of former imperial officers shared bread and whispered.
"He's just another warlord."
"Then why are the people calling him Sovereign?"
"Because they haven't seen him fail yet."
They clinked metal cups.
"Let's make sure they do."
Final Scene – The Great Hall, Midnight
Kael stared into the firepit, hands clasped behind his back.
Myrren joined him in silence.
"You ever imagine it would feel like this?" she asked.
"No."
"Victory?"
"No. Rule."
He looked around the hall. Flags hung from the rafters—some imperial, torn and slashed, others newly stitched with his symbol.
"We've claimed the fortress," he said. "Now we must hold something harder."
"What's that?"
"Their belief."