Chereads / Slave of Ember / Chapter 1 - Chapitre 1 : The Reflection of Freedom

Slave of Ember

🇬🇧Brady_Nanitamo
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Synopsis

Chapter 1 - Chapitre 1 : The Reflection of Freedom

The dusty floor of Block 4 echoed under Naryn's footsteps as he moved slowly forward, his muscles straining with fatigue. He had just returned from his last mission, the last before the promise of a freedom he no longer fully believed in. The dust kicked up by the wind had left a thin layer on his torn clothes, but he paid it no mind. All that mattered now was what was in his pocket. The purse which, he hoped, contained enough coins to buy their freedom. The end of this existence of misery, an end that seemed almost unreal, but yet so close.

At the end of the alleyway, a familiar silhouette stood out from the shadows. There, as every evening since they had found each other in this devastated world, Marsha was waiting for him. She was still there, sitting against the stone wall, her knees tucked up against her chest, her arms around them as if to protect herself from the world. Her gaze, so often lost in the haze of their shattered dreams, rose slowly as she heard the familiar footsteps. A glimmer of hope lit up her tired features, and a light breeze stirred her blond hair, but she didn't move.

Marsha never asked questions about his missions. She knew that Naryn was doing whatever it took for them to survive, even if it meant selling herself to those who showed no mercy. It was her burden, and she accepted it. But, as on every return, a dull anguish remained in her mind, a fear that one day Naryn might not come back.

Naryn stopped in front of her and stared at her for a moment in silence.He had often had the impression of losing her every time he left. But this time, something had changed. He could feel it in his heart, something different. He had sworn to himself that this mission would be his last. Once he had the money he needed, it would all be over.

Freedom would finally be within his grasp.

Marsha looked up at him, and the glimmer of hope in her eyes became clearer. She was waiting, as always, but today he knew that she was waiting for more than just him.

- "Did you succeed? she asked in an almost inaudible voice, her gaze never leaving Naryn's.

This simple word carried more weight than any oath.

Naryn look at her for a moment.

He knew he had to give her a clear answer, he clear his throat. After all, what was he really? A mercenary, a slave in a broken world. But at this very moment, he chose to smile at her. It may not have been much show her that side of him, but it was all he could offer her. He looked down at the small purse in his hand and held it out to Marsha, who took it carefully.

She opened the purse quietly, her eyes resting first on the gold coins and then on the folded piece of paper inside. This paper, a simple piece of this cold, inhuman world, bore an address and words that changed everything: 'The promise of a new life, in the place agreed.'

Marsha looked up, a confused expression briefly crossing her face.

She still didn't understand. But Naryn knew that the moment had arrived.

- "This is our chance, Marsha. With that i can buy our freedom and we will take revenge of this place."

Naryn's voice was firmer than ever, determined. There was a gleam in his eyes she hadn't seen in a long time. She stood up slowly, her gaze locked on her brother's, and for a moment, the world around them seemed to dissolve, leaving only two people bound together by hope and survival.

But the question still hung in the air. Would their freedom really come? Would the road be as simple as this ticket, or would the darkness catch up with them again?

The wind blew through the alleyway, carrying a golden dust, like a final farewell to the life they had known.

Naryn looked at Marsha, her heart pounding. The gleam in her eyes was not simply one of hope. It was also tinged with a silent doubt, as if something in the air had changed, as if you could feel in every breath that the road to freedom would be paved with danger.

Marsha held the purse in her hands, her fingers trembling slightly. Her eyes were fixed on the address written on the piece of paper. She didn't speak immediately. Words seemed unnecessary, as if the importance of this moment transcended anything she could say.

- 'What now?' Her voice was weak, but the question heavy. She knew it wasn't as simple as leaving. Their escape, desperate as it was, would put them at risk. Dodens Omrade was not a place for those seeking freedom. It was a hunting ground, and they were its prey.

Naryn nodded. He knew that what he had just offered them, this promise, was going to cost them more than they could have imagined. But he couldn't back down now. Not now.

-"I will go see Rasmus and pay for our liberty you waited me at the designated spot you will wait for me." As he said that he pose his hand on her shoulder.

-"If i don't come back you will leave without me i hide some money in case."

At those word Marsha look at him in disbelieving.

-"What do you mean if you don't come back, you speak as if something is going to happen to you, please i don't want to lose you don't say such things like that".

Naryn look at her his heart softened at her word.

-"You right i shouldn't be pessimist, forget about what i say wait for me in the place i told you, and don't move from that place until i come".

She nodded as a response.

-"Now go i will pay Rasmus for our freedom".

She walk away and wave at me a last time.

-"Don't make me wait too long".

As he watched her go, Naryn felt a deep ache in his chest. He turned, taking one last look at the Dodens Omrade, a place that had been his prison, his battleground, and the source of so many scars, both physical and emotional. A sense of triumph, tinged with bitterness, surged through him. This could finally be the end of it.

The streets, littered with the remnants of violence and decay, seemed quieter now, more oppressive. The smell of blood and death hung in the air like a constant, suffocating cloud.

"I could have been another lifeless body in this pit, lying in the dirt," Naryn thought as he walked through the streets. But not anymore. I'm going to be free.

With each step, the city felt like it was closing in on him, but he pressed forward. He couldn't afford to hesitate. Not now.

As he approached Rasmus place, a bodyguard stood at the entrance, arms crossed and eyes narrowed. The tension in the air was thick, like the calm before a storm.

Bodyguard -"Why are your here boy"?

Naryn -"Im here to see Rasmus".

Bodyguard -"I see, enter".

The door creaked open as Naryn stepped inside. He was immediately hit with the overwhelming scent of alcohol mixed with the pungent odor of blood. The place had a grim, almost festive air—Rasmus parties were notorious for spilling more than just wine. Naryn moved cautiously toward the back room, the one where Rasmus typically held court. As he knocked, a voice echoed from within, firm and commanding.

Rasmus -"Enter". His voice was firm and dominant.

I stepped in and see his tall figure he was always thrilling to see him in face.

Rasmus -"Naryn i didn't expect to see you there, i don't have any missions for you today". As he said.

Naryn -"Im not here to take a new mission, if am here its cause i will pay my freedom back with those of my sister as well".

Rasmus -"I see, do you really intend to leave, you think you can walk away like that".

Naryn's jaw tightened. He knew this conversation would be difficult, but he had no choice.

Naryn -"I've made my decision. We've both earned our right to leave. I've carried out all your missions, I've shed blood. I'm not asking for your pity, Rasmus. I'm paying you what I owe you, and I expect you to respect my decision, because I won't hesitate to crush everything you have and take it away from you if it means being free".

Rasmus looked at him, a flame of interest in his eyes, a infectious gleam. There was a moment of tension-laden silence. Then Rasmus stood up slowly, his imposing shadow invading the room. His voice was calm, almost indifferent, but tinged with a strange curiosity.

Rasmus Olvinka -"If that's what you want... leave. It's a shame to see you go. You have potential, Naryn. Potential that a few don't possess".

Naryn felt a wave of surprise. This apparent ease, this lack of struggle, unsettled him. Had he expected Naryn to beg him? Or did he know something Naryn didn't? It didn't matter. For Naryn, this freedom was just the first step.

Taking control of the six blocks, he thought, would require every ounce of my strength and will. He couldn't afford any doubts now. He looked at Rasmus, realizing that he had to free himself from this man to achieve his goal.

Rasmus Olvinka -"Go then, Naryn. And who knows ? Maybe the day will come when you'll come back here...".

One last look, one last silent tension, and then Naryn left the room, his mind already on what he had to accomplish. He knew that to dominate the different blocks, he would not only have to free himself.

As he left Rasmus' lair, Naryn felt the cold air of the Dodens Omrade hit his face. Her future awaited her - dangerous, uncertain, but finally hers to control.

As Naryn left Rasmus's stronghold, he felt a weight lift, though he kept his expression steady. His path back to Block 4 was quiet but tense, the familiar shadows and dangers of Dodens Omrade barely affecting his stride.

Reaching the frontier, he saw Marsha waiting at their usual spot, seated on a low stone wall, arms wrapped around her knees. Her blonde hair shone faintly in the dim light, her red eyes darting anxiously until they settled on him. She breathed a sigh of relief as he approached, offering a tentative smile.

"You're back," she said softly, her voice tinged with worry.

Naryn nodded, keeping his tone calm. "Of course. Everything is settled." He placed a reassuring hand on her shoulder, his red eyes meeting hers with a quiet resolve. "Soon, we'll be free of this place."

Marsha's eyes widened with hope. "Are we really… leaving Dodens Omrade?"

"Yes," he replied with quiet certainty. "Tomorrow, we'll make plans. But tonight, we rest. I'll make sure we're safe, Marsha. This place won't hold us any longer than it has to."

She nodded, visibly relieved, her usual shyness softened by the glimmer of hope in her eyes. As they stood together in the darkness, Naryn maintained his composure, his thoughts already calculating their next steps. They dared to imagine a life beyond the chaos—a life where freedom was within their reach.

As night descended and shadows blanketed the area, Naryn watched Marsha sleeping soundly beside him, her fragile form finally at ease. A rare sense of relief softened his expression; they were one step closer to freedom, to his ambition of seizing control over Dodens Omrade.

But that moment of peace was fleeting. Faint footsteps echoed in the stillness, growing louder with each passing second. Naryn's eyes sharpened, and he silently slipped into the shadows, his instincts honed from years of survival. Keeping Marsha hidden behind him, he crouched, scanning the approaching figures.

A familiar detail caught his eye—the unmistakable insignia of Rasmus's men glinting under the pale moonlight. Naryn's jaw tightened; he'd suspected that Rasmus's acceptance of his freedom had been too easy, too compliant. Rasmus wouldn't have let go of a valuable pawn so readily.

Remaining perfectly still, Naryn studied the men's formation, counting their numbers, observing the way they moved. He weighed his options, calculating a way to protect Marsha while avoiding confrontation if possible. In his mind, a plan formed—silent, precise, and ruthless.

"There are only ten," Naryn muttered under his breath, his red eyes gleaming with a cold intensity. "He really underestimated me." His mind raced, mapping out each move before he'd even made it. "I can take them all... I just need to be quick and return to Marsha's side."

With a deep, steadying breath, he tightened his grip on his dagger, shifting silently into position. He'd faced worse odds before, but tonight was different. Tonight, he wasn't just fighting to survive—he was fighting for their freedom, for a life beyond this bleak existence.

One last glance toward the shadows where Marsha lay hidden, and he launched forward with precision, each strike swift and silent. As Naryn steadied himself, the night seemed to hold its breath. The familiar weight of the dagger in his hand felt like an extension of his resolve. He moved with a quiet intensity, every step bringing him closer to his enemies. In the stillness, his thoughts were sharp, focused.

With swift precision, he slipped through the shadows, catching each of Rasmus's men off guard, his movements fluid and controlled. Each strike was deliberate—quick, silent, and merciless. As the final man fell, Naryn paused, taking a steadying breath, his gaze immediately returning to where Marsha lay hidden.

When Naryn returned to Marsha's side, his heart stopped cold. She was awake but frozen in fear, held firmly by two of Rasmus's men who had flanked him from behind. His hands clenched as he bit his lip in frustration. Normally, he was calm, even in the face of danger—but when it came to Marsha, that control unraveled.

The man gripping Marsha sneered, pressing the flat of his sword against her thigh. "Don't make a move," he said, his voice low and taunting. "Or…" He let the threat linger, pressing the blade a little harder, causing Marsha to wince.

A flicker of fear crossed her face, and Naryn's red eyes darkened, his anger simmering beneath the surface. His mind raced, calculating, trying to keep his focus as he assessed the situation. One wrong move, and Marsha would be hurt.

"Let her go," Naryn said, his voice dangerously calm. "She's got nothing to do with this."

The man chuckled, tightening his grip on Marsha. "Oh, I think she's got everything to do with this, Naryn. A girl like her shouldn't be in a place like here. As he lick his lips. "She should be at home with a man to take care of her not wandering around anyway did you thought you could just run away?"

Naryn's fists clenched. His thoughts twist, searching for every possible move he could create a distraction—just enough to throw them off—he might be able to get her free. He took a steady breath, calm to regain his calm self. His mind clear he regain his composure.

Naryn's voice came low and steady. "You know who I am" he began, keeping his tone measured. "You know what I'm capable of. Rasmus didn't send you here expecting me to fall easily. So, let her go, and I'll make this quick for you."

The man holding Marsha smirked but shifted uneasily under Naryn's piercing gaze. "Brave words" he sneered. "But talk won't save her."

Naryn subtly scanned the surroundings, his mind calculating the exact timing and movement he'd need. He was calm now—a predator biding his time. Just a few seconds more, he thought, his grip tightening on the hidden dagger at his side. That's all I'll need.

Naryn's gaze locked onto the men holding Marsha, every detail seared into his mind—their stances, the grip on their weapons, even the nervous shift in the eyes of one of them. He noticed the slight tremble in the sword against Marsha's thigh and the uneven breathing of the second man. They weren't as composed as they wanted him to believe.

His fingers curled around the hilt of his hidden dagger, the cool metal grounding him as he readied himself. He couldn't afford hesitation. A single misstep could cost Marsha everything.

"Listen" he said evenly, his tone sharp enough to cut through the tension. "If Rasmus wanted me dead, he would've sent someone better. You both know it, and I do too. Let her go, and maybe I'll let you leave alive."

The man holding Marsha chuckled, but there was unease in his voice. "You're bluffing, Naryn. You won't risk her life."

Naryn smirked, a calculated move to unnerve them further. "You're right. I won't. But I don't need to."

His words hung in the air for only a heartbeat before he moved. A flash of silver, a blur of motion—Naryn's dagger found its mark, embedding itself in the hand of the man holding Marsha. The sword clattered to the ground as he howled in pain, loosening his grip on her.

"Run, Marsha!" Naryn barked, his voice breaking through her frozen fear.

She stumbled backward, but the second man lunged for her. Naryn intercepted, his movements precise and feral. This wasn't just survival—it was war, and in that moment, he became the predator they never stood a chance against.

Marsha hesitated for only a moment, her red eyes wide with terror, before she scrambled away into the shadows. The second man reached for her, but Naryn was faster, slamming into him with brutal force. The sickening crunch of bone echoed as Naryn drove his knee into the man's ribs, sending him sprawling to the ground.

The first man, clutching his bleeding hand, staggered forward with a snarl, drawing a dagger with his uninjured hand. Naryn turned, his movements fluid and unrelenting. The blade slashed toward him, but Naryn sidestepped, catching the man's wrist and twisting sharply. A wet snap followed by a scream tore through the air as the dagger fell uselessly to the ground.

Naryn didn't stop. He drove his own blade into the man's throat, the red spray of blood stark against the moonlit darkness. The man gurgled, collapsing in a heap at Naryn's feet, lifeless.

The second man, coughing and groaning, tried to crawl away, but Naryn was on him before he could move far. Gripping the man's hair, Naryn yanked his head back, forcing their eyes to meet.

"You thought you could take her from me?" Naryn's voice was low, dangerous, almost unrecognizable. Without hesitation, he plunged his dagger into the man's legs, twisting it slowly.

Naryn's spoke, "Tell to Rasmus when i came back i will take everything from him keep waiting cause this day will come fast as the ember ignite". The silence that followed was deafening, broken only by Naryn's ragged breathing. Blood pooled around his feet, staining the ground where he stood. For a moment, he simply stared at the man. Then he turned, wiping his blade clean on one of the men's cloaks, and hurried toward where Marsha had fled. He couldn't afford to lose her, not after this.

Naryn hurried through the shadowed alleys, his mind racing as he retraced the path Marsha had fled. His boots splashed through puddles of filth, the sounds of the night closing in around him—distant shouts, scurrying rats, the faint crackle of torches. Each step carried urgency, his grip tightening on the bloodied dagger still in his hand.

When he finally reached the agreed-upon hiding spot near the border of Block 4, his heart sank. Marsha wasn't there.

"Marsha?" he called out in a harsh whisper, his voice barely audible but laced with desperation. He scanned the dim surroundings, his eyes searching for any sign of her. The abandoned building loomed over him, its walls crumbling with decay. It was the safest place he could think of—a place they had used before. But now, it felt cold, empty.

The faint sound of a soft whimper reached his ears, barely cutting through the oppressive silence. Naryn froze, his body taut like a coiled spring, before following the sound. He stepped carefully, each movement deliberate, until he saw her.

Marsha was crouched behind a pile of broken crates, her small frame trembling. Her blonde hair caught the faint light filtering through the cracks in the walls, and her red eyes, wide with fear, locked onto his.

"Naryn…" she breathed, her voice shaky. "I… I thought you weren't coming back."

"I'm here," he said softly, crouching down beside her. He reached out to place a hand on her shoulder, but she flinched slightly, her gaze darting to the blood smeared on his hand and clothes.

"You're hurt…" she whispered.

"It's not mine," he replied quickly, his voice firm but reassuring. "Are you okay? Did anyone find you?"

Marsha shook her head, her eyes filling with tears. "No, but… I heard things—shouts, footsteps. I thought… I thought they got you."

Naryn exhaled, a brief wave of relief washing over him. "They didn't," he said, his voice steady. "And they won't. But we can't stay here. It's not safe anymore. We need to move."

Marsha hesitated, her fragile frame trembling as she struggled to her feet. "Where will we go?"

"To Block 5," Naryn replied, his tone grim. "It's dangerous, but no one controls it. Rasmus won't follow us there—not yet."

Marsha's red eyes filled with unease, but she nodded, trusting him implicitly. Naryn took her hand, his grip firm yet gentle, and led her out into the night.

As they slipped through the shadows, Naryn's mind churned. He had bought them time, but it wasn't enough. The embers of his anger burned brighter now, fueling his resolve. One day, he would take the power Rasmus wielded and bend it to his will. For Marsha. For their freedom. For a life beyond the ash and blood.