Night had fallen over the Dark City like a thick blanket, and Ash separated from Nephis without making a sound. She was on the rooftop, as always, looking toward the castle with that expression of hers that never revealed what she was really thinking. She didn't ask where he was going. It wasn't necessary.
Ash walked among the shacks of the outer settlement, dodging piles of garbage and Sleepers who looked at him with that mixture of hunger and distrust that everyone here had.
He approached one lurking near the wall, a skinny guy with a gaunt appearance, wearing a cloak made from poorly stitched abomination hide.
The man saw him coming and his shoulders tensed.
"I need you to take me to the gaming hall," Ash said without preamble.
The Sleeper narrowed his eyes, evaluating him. He had an ugly scar that crossed his upper lip, giving him a permanent expression of disdain.
"The gaming hall? Are you crazy? That place is a trap. You'll only go there to lose what little you have and end up in debt to Gunlaug's hunters. It's not for you, kid, believe me."
Ash didn't respond with words. He reached into his pocket and took out a soul fragment, holding it between his fingers.
The Sleeper's eyes fixed on him like those of a hungry man before a plate of meat.
"Alright... alright. I'll take you. But I only guide you to the entrance, understood? I'm not going in."
Ash nodded and tossed him the fragment. The man caught it with the speed of a predator and stored it in some fold of his rags with almost religious care.
The Sleeper's name was Henry.
He had been trapped in the Dark City for just over a year, trapped in the cursed city.
As they walked around the base of the castle hill, moving through the shadows of collapsed buildings and alleys that seemed to lead nowhere, Henry wouldn't stop talking.
He had arrived during the winter solstice, like everyone else. His group had been decimated in the Labyrinth and only three managed to reach the city. One died the first week, attacked by a fallen beast while trying to get meat. Another managed to enter the castle, but Henry wasn't strong enough nor did he have enough fragments to pay the tribute, so he stayed outside.
"Outside," Henry repeated bitterly, spitting on the ground. "As if this were being outside of something. We're just as screwed here as there, only here the monsters have people's faces."
Ash listened in silence, letting the man's words fill the void of the night.
Finally, Henry stopped in front of a section of the castle wall that seemed solid. But after pressing a particular stone — one that had a barely visible engraving, worn down by centuries of weather — a section of the wall slid aside with a soft scraping.
"A hidden entrance?" asked Ash, though he already knew.
Henry nodded while guarding the soul fragment once more, as if afraid the stone might snatch it from him.
"The main gates close at nightfall. But there are passages like this for certain purposes. The gaming hall is popular among the Sleepers... and among the castle's hunters too. The Bright Lord knows about it, of course. In exchange for allowing the hall to operate, those who run it pay him ten soul fragments every week. It's a sweet deal for him."
Ash nodded, processing the information. "And you? Do you play?"
Henry let out a bitter laugh, short, without humor. "I used to. Until I lost everything I had and more. Now I just bring rookies like you."
"The one with the most luck doesn't always win," Ash commented as they entered the passageway.
"No, but the one who rigged the cards almost always does."
They advanced in silence through the passageway. It was narrow, forcing them to walk sideways in some sections, and it smelled of humidity and soot.
Finally, they emerged into the lower part of the castle. Henry led him through a couple more corridors until stopping in front of a solid wooden door. Above it, someone had carved a crude drawing of dice.
"This place is the gaming hall," Henry said, and although his tone was neutral, there was something in his eyes that revealed it wasn't the first time he'd seen that door. "You still have time to turn around and leave."
Ash simply looked at the door without saying anything. After a few seconds, he opened it.
The gaming hall was larger than he had imagined.
It occupied what must have been a great hall in ancient times. High ceilings, at least five meters tall, supported by gray stone columns that still preserved remnants of decorative carvings: human faces, mythological creatures, suns and moons erased by time. Now, the space was lit by torches and oil lamps placed strategically on the columns and walls, creating a warm atmosphere but charged with a tension that could be felt in the air.
There were about ten tables distributed throughout the hall. Some were rectangular, others round. On them, piles of soul fragments changed hands to the rhythm of cards and dice. The players leaned their bodies over the tables, some with smiles of triumph, others with the distorted face of someone who had just lost everything.
At the tables, Sleepers from the outer settlement — recognizable by their worn clothes and hungry looks — mixed with hunters from the castle, who wore better quality armor and sported emblems that Ash had seen before: the golden serpent.
Ash observed the scene carefully, letting his yellow eyes scan every detail.
At one of the tables, a group was playing poker. A hunter — a big guy, with broad shoulders and a square jaw — cursed out loud as he threw his cards on the table violently.
"Damn it! Again!"
The man stood up abruptly, his chair scraping the stone floor with a screech that made several heads turn. He pointed at the Sleeper sitting across from him, a thin man with a tired look but a twisted smile of satisfaction.
"You owe me fifteen fragments, dog. I want them tomorrow, or I'll have to remind the Bright Lord how much you like this place."
The Sleeper nodded without a word, lowering his gaze. The hunter walked away between the tables, pushing past Ash without even looking at him. Ash didn't flinch at that.
Henry touched his shoulder. "This is as far as I go. This is all yours. And advice: don't gamble more than you're willing to lose. That's my advice."
Ash nodded. "That was certainly good help, Henry."
The man nodded and slipped back through the passageway, disappearing into the darkness as if he had never been there.
Ash walked toward the table where the game had just ended. The Sleeper who had won was collecting his fragments with slow movements, but before he could get up, Ash took the empty chair the hunter had left.
"Can I join?" he asked. His tone was as neutral as ever, without a trace of emotion.
The five remaining players at the table looked at him. Besides the Sleeper who had just won — a quiet type with long fingers and an intelligent look — there were three more hunters, all with Gunlaug's emblem on their clothes, and two other Sleepers from the exterior who seemed nervous, as if they were on forbidden ground.
The hunters examined Ash with curiosity. His armor was clearly of better quality than that of most Sleepers.
One of the hunters, a bearded man with a scar that crossed his cheek from top to bottom, let out a mocking laugh. His companions laughed with him.
"Another Sleeper looking to bleed himself dry? Of course you can sit down, kid." The bearded man pointed to the chair with a broad gesture. "How much are you betting? I hope it's not the crumbs you found on the ground."
Ash reached into his pocket and took out three soul fragments, placing them on the table with a leisurely gesture. The fragments shone under the torchlight.
The hunters exchanged knowing glances among themselves.
"Do you know how to play, kid?" asked the bearded man as he shuffled the cards.
"A little, but I learn fast," Ash responded with a slight smile.
"That's what they all say before they lose."
The man finished shuffling and began to deal. One card. Two. Three. Four. Five. The cards fell on the table with soft thuds, each in its place.
Ash picked up his without haste. His yellow eyes scanned the cards with an unnatural calm that contrasted with the tense atmosphere of the room. He didn't adjust the cards in his hand, didn't rearrange them. He simply held them and looked.
The bearded man watched him for a moment, then smiled.
"Good luck, kid. You'll need it."