CHAPTER ELEVEN - Ashes of the forbidden

Aftermath

Grim stood still, eyes calm.

Vael lay stunned on the ground, cloak smoldering, pride in tatters.

The officiator cleared his throat awkwardly.

"Victor: Grim of Ashen. Flawless win."

Grim turned and walked away, coat sweeping behind him. Sparks snorted.

"Flawless? More like savagely elegant. If that were any cleaner, we'd need to frame it."

🧊 Back in the Tower

Kaia leaned against the wall as Grim returned.

"Well?"

Grim shrugged. "He picked the wrong fire."

Kaia gave a rare smile.

"You made enemies tonight."

"Good," Grim said. "They'll stay out of my way longer."

Sparks chimed in.

"Or try again harder. Either way—more fun for me."

Two days after the duel, Grim's name is everywhere.

Some fear him.

Some want to challenge him.

Some want to use him.

He ignores them all.

🕰️ Early Morning – Briefing Hall

Kaia stands in front of a projection map pulsing with soft blue lines. A dozen students, mostly upper-level, fill the seats. Grim enters last—hood up, arms crossed. Sparks stays quiet.

At the top of the display:

MISSION PROTOCOL – Category Yellow

Location: Western Border Ruins

Objective: Lume Activity Disruption / Artifact Recovery

Kaia's tone is sharp. "We've detected unstable Lume readings from a buried node near the Avara/Irix fault line. Old tech. Possibly Blank-modified."

Grim's eyes narrow.

"You think it's one of theirs?" he murmurs.

Sparks answers, "If it is, we're either about to find a shiny relic… or get nuked by leftover emotional warfare."

🛡️ Team Selection

Kaia scans the room.

"Three of you are going. One will lead."

Students straighten. Nobles nudge forward. Eyes flick to Vael—bandaged but glaring.

Kaia calls the names without hesitation:

"Grim of Ashen. Kerren Marlow. Lys Vaen."

Gasps.

Kerren—tall, quiet, a commoner with shockwave runes on her gloves.

Lys—short, sharp-tongued, noble-born, and visibly irritated at being picked with Grim.

"You're sending him to lead?" she blurts out.

Kaia: "I said one would lead. I never said it was him."

But she doesn't correct the assumption either.

"Ohhh," Sparks whispers. "Kaia's playing the long game. Power shift politics. I love her."

🚁 Departure — Later That Night

The trio boards a hover transport shaped like a winged glass beetle. It hums to life with Lume crystals at the core. Outside the windows, Ashenwell's towers shrink, and Oruin's wild edge stretches ahead.

Inside, silence rules—until Lys snaps:

"You think you're above us because you beat Serkane?"

Grim: "No. I beat him because he needed to lose."

Kerren chuckles.

"I like him," she says simply.

Sparks adds, "That makes one of you."

🧭 The Western Border Ruins

They arrive at dusk. The ruins are old—blackened stones, symbols half-swallowed by time. The Lume readings spike every few seconds, making Sparks shudder.

"That's not just leftover energy," Sparks mutters. "That's living memory. Twisted. Maybe fractured tech… or something worse."

They reach the node. A pulsing orb, half-buried in stone. Grim kneels beside it.

"Can you interface?"

"I can try, but this thing's spitting out code like it's in pain."

As Sparks begins the process, a low hum fills the air.

Then the orb changes color—from blue to red.

Kerren: "That's not good."

Lys: "No crap."

The node shatters.

From beneath the earth rises a broken Echo—one half-machine, half-memories. A forgotten soul anchor.

And it's angry.

Grim stands, fire already flickering.

"Time to see what they buried out here."

Sparks: "Time to blow it up before it remembers why it's mad."