"Ashes, Ale, and Echoes of Tomorrow"
The rain in Luthen's Crossing never stopped. It drizzled, poured, hissed against rooftops, then vanished into mist again — as if the sky itself couldn't decide whether to weep or breathe. Teik sat beneath the awning of a crooked tavern, cloak damp, the faint hum of Essence pulsing around his body like a heartbeat he couldn't silence.
He'd fought beasts, men, and even the ghosts of his past life. But now, in this sleepy border town that smelled of smoke and wet bread, he faced something far stranger — stillness.
---
Part I — What It Means to Be Human
Teik turned the clay cup in his hands. It was filled with something called "bitterroot ale." Ren swore it healed the soul. Mira swore it killed brain cells. Teik wasn't sure which was preferable.
He lifted it to his lips, grimaced, and muttered, "If this is what mortals drink for pleasure, maybe I died too early."
"Or not early enough," Mira said from across the table, eyes glinting like molten metal. Her long hair was tied up with a frayed red ribbon, the same one she'd used to strangle a bandit two days earlier. She didn't do 'casual' very well.
Ren leaned back in his chair, smirking. "You say that every time we stop somewhere civilized. Try relaxing, T. Nobody's trying to kill us today."
"Yet," Teik murmured. His voice was calm, but his Essence thrummed faintly, betraying unease.
---
When they'd first reached Luthen's Crossing, the town guard had gawked at their injuries — three travelers half-dead and soaked in monster blood. The innkeeper took them in out of pity or fear. Now, three days later, Teik still hadn't slept properly.
Every time he closed his eyes, he saw the beast's tails, the flickering sigils that mirrored his own Essence. And beneath that image, the stranger's voice — the one who had saved them — whispering words only Teik could hear:
> "You are the ember of a broken flame. But not the first."
He'd never told the others.
---
Part II — The Tavern of Questionable Choices
The door burst open with a gust of wet wind and shouting.
A group of mercenaries stomped in, armor dented, laughter slurred. Their insignia — a crescent wrapped in chain — gleamed faintly with spiritual ink. Mira's eyes narrowed.
"Chain Crescent Guild," she said. "Low-rank Essence mercs. Scum-for-hire."
Ren shrugged. "They look fun."
"Your definition of fun worries me," Teik muttered.
The mercenaries took the table next to theirs, loud and drunk, reeking of blood and wet fur. One of them, a tall man with pale eyes, noticed Teik's faint golden aura. "Hey, monk-boy," he sneered. "You one of them Soul Cleaners from the monasteries?"
Teik's eyebrow twitched. "Soul Cleansers," he corrected, without looking up.
"Whatever. You smell like burnt incense and arrogance."
Mira's cup cracked in her hand.
Ren sighed. "Here we go."
---
The first punch didn't come from Teik — it came from Mira.
And when Mira started, she didn't stop.
The tavern exploded into chaos. Chairs shattered, tankards flew, a drunken lute player screamed something about the end times. Ren fought with his usual lazy grace, dodging punches like it was part of a dance routine. Teik just sat for a moment, pinching the bridge of his nose.
He'd wanted peace.
But maybe chaos was his kind of peace.
He rose, Essence pulsing faintly around him, and with a flick of his wrist, the floorboards trembled. A wave of kinetic pressure rippled through the room, sending three mercs sprawling. The tavern went silent for a beat — then erupted again, louder.
Outside, thunder rolled. The storm mirrored the mess inside.
---
Part III — The Man with Silver Eyes
When it was over, the tavern looked like a warzone. Mira sat on a broken table, wiping blood off her cheek. Ren was counting coins he'd stolen mid-fight. Teik stood near the door, staring at a figure who hadn't joined the chaos.
A man in a dark hood sat in the corner, untouched by spilled ale or flying fists. His silver eyes gleamed faintly, not with light, but memory. He raised his glass slightly toward Teik.
"You handle yourself like someone who's forgotten how," the stranger said, voice soft — too calm for the wreckage around them.
Teik's gaze sharpened. "You watched all that?"
"I was watching you," the man said simply. "The way your Essence bends. You carry an echo — not of this world."
Mira tensed. "You know something about him?"
The man smiled faintly. "Maybe. Or maybe I remember a time when men like him burned worlds to ash."
Teik's breath hitched. There was something achingly familiar in that voice, like hearing a song from a life he barely remembered. He took a step forward. "Who are you?"
The man drained his drink and stood. "A friend. For now. When you reach the Veil's Edge, tell them Silas sent you."
He dropped a coin — strange, carved with twin suns — and vanished into the rain.
---
Part IV — Rooftops and Echoes
Later that night, Teik sat alone on the rooftop, the city glowing faintly beneath silver rain. Mira and Ren slept below. His Essence hummed, but quieter now — soothed by the rhythm of raindrops.
He held the coin up to the sky. The twin suns etched on its surface shimmered faintly, reacting to his aura.
> "You are the ember of a broken flame… but not the first."
Teik whispered to the storm, "Then how many embers came before me?"
Thunder answered.
Somewhere beyond the veil of clouds, something vast stirred — watching.
---