Chapter 10: Hounds of Ashvale
Ashvale breathed smoke.
The city had not slept since the Choir fell, its skyline still scarred with fire, its streets heavy with whispers. Ash travels far when the wind takes it, and so did the story of the stranger with the spear.
They said he stood alone against the Prelate's circle, cutting songs apart before they could rise. They said his weapon glowed with fire stolen from the Loom itself. They said the Choir screamed not because they died, but because their Threads had been severed mid voice.
The rebels repeated it with awe, their hope rekindled like coals stirred back to flame.
The merchants muttered it with dread, weighing whether to hide their goods or flee the city entirely.
The Wardens spat it like poison, armor creaking as they doubled their patrols.
And the children whispered it in games, pretending their sticks could cut the world apart.
By dawn, Ashvale was no longer Ashvale.
It was a city caught in a snare, every alley a trap waiting to close.
The Wardens marched with Choirs at their side, humming low notes that rattled shutters and shook loose dust from cracked stone. Net weaves stretched across narrow streets, invisible to the eye but humming with resonance when touched. Hunters crouched on rooftops, crossbows cocked, eyes sharp, waiting for the prey their masters had scented.
And through it all, the hum of the Loom grew restless, frayed by fire and blood. Elias felt it in his teeth, in the marrow of his ribs. A low pressure that never eased, a warning beat in the background of every breath.
He sat in the Salt Mill safehouse, back pressed to damp stone, spear across his knees. The brazier burned low, filling the chamber with thin smoke that curled toward the beams above. His body ached, his scars sang, but worse was the silence.
No one spoke.
Hale sat on a broken stool, sword across his lap, sharpening it with slow, steady strokes. Elvi leaned against the wall, bow within reach, her eyes fixed on the door. Lysera stood near the far post, arms crossed, her gaze locked on Elias with the cold precision of a knife blade.
Rook broke the silence first. A low growl, ears twitching toward the ceiling. His fur bristled, silver eyes narrowing as though he smelled danger leaking through the stone.
Elias felt it too, his Resonance Sense prickled, sharp as static, vibrations in the air, faint but certain, footsteps overhead, deliberate, armored, too many.
"They're close," he said. His voice rasped from smoke and exhaustion.
Hale looked up, eyes narrowing. "How close."
Elias tilted his head, listening with more than his ears, "street above, two turns off, moving in formation."
Elvi cursed softly under her breath. Hale sheathed his blade, rose to his full height, his face was carved with decision, "then we're out of time. Salt Mill won't hold. Not against a sweep this heavy."
Noll shifted on his feet, spear gripped too tight. His face was pale, but his eyes burned with something more than fear. "Where do we go."
"Out," Hale said simply. His voice was flat, a soldier's voice. "Before the hounds close the street."
Tamsin entered then, wiping her hands on an apron stained dark with herbs and blood. Her brow furrowed as she took in the room, her mouth already twisted in disapproval. "And where exactly do you plan to run? Every alley in Ashvale smells of fire and death. The Wardens will sweep them all."
"Thornveil," Lysera said.
The name struck like a thrown stone.
Elvi turned sharply. "The forest."
Lysera nodded, calm as a blade resting on a table. "The Wardens won't follow us deep. Not willingly. Too many beasts. Too much broken resonance. If we want time, if we want air, it is the only place left."
Tamsin snorted, voice dripping with scorn. "Time to breathe, she says. More like time to be gutted by wolves with too many teeth."
"The hounds above will gut us faster," Lysera replied coolly.
Silence stretched.
Elias's hand tightened on the spear, the etched lines faintly alive under his grip, the name itself stirred something deep in his bones, Thornveil. He hadn't seen it, but his Resonance Sense trembled at the thought, a place where the Loom had broken, where the hum ran jagged.
Hale rubbed a hand across his jaw, his scars caught the brazier's glow, shadow deepening in every crease, "she's right, Ashvale is ash. If we stay, we draw every rebel down with us, Thornveil buys us distance, and distance is life."
Elvi frowned, "and death, I've heard the stories. Beasts that walk like men. Cores that sing too loud and split you from the inside."
Thorek finally stirred, hunched in the corner where he'd been fiddling with shards of scrap. His beard was black with soot, his eyes bright with something like excitement. "Stories, aye, and every story is a chance to test fire against fang. I'd rather face beasts with claws than priests with choirs."
Tamsin rolled her eyes. "Of course you would."
Lysera's gaze never left Elias. "If you can stand, soldier, then stand. We leave before the sun climbs higher."
Elias met her eyes. For once, there was no scorn there, only calculation.
He pushed himself up. Pain flared in his ribs, his scars screamed, his vision blurred, but Rook pressed against his leg, steady, solid, a living anchor. The cub's silver eyes gleamed like molten steel.
"I'm standing," Elias said. His voice was rough, but steady.
Noll straightened too, trying to mirror him, though his knuckles were white around his spear.
Elvi drew in a slow breath, then nodded. "Then we move now. Before the Choirs net the quarter."
Hale sheathed his blade with finality. "Pack light. Leave nothing worth finding. Once we step into Thornveil, it's beasts and silence. No turning back."
Tamsin muttered under her breath. "Saints help us." But she gathered her satchel of herbs and bandages anyway.
Thorek slapped his palm against the wall, grinning through soot. "By the Forge, I've been wanting to see this forest since I was beard high. They say the trees sing louder than anvils."
"Trees don't sing," Elvi muttered.
"They will for me," Thorek shot back.
Rook sneezed at the smoke, ears flicking, tail thumping once against Elias's boot. The cub's body was tense, ready, as though he too understood that the city above was no longer theirs.
Elias looked once more around the chamber. The brazier burned low. The stone walls reeked of salt and smoke. The floor was etched with the weight of too many footsteps, too many whispers. This place had held them, but it would not hold them any longer.
The city groaned above, Wardens humming their nets, Choirs singing sharp through the ruins.
Better beasts than hounds, Elias thought.
He gripped his spear.
And the squad began to move.
The streets above were closing.
Ashvale's alleys had always been narrow, crooked veins running through the body of the city, but now they were strangled by smoke and nets. Wardens swept them like hounds, Choirs humming low, each note bending the air until shutters rattled and broken glass trembled on the ground.
The safehouse door shut behind them, iron bolts falling into place for the last time. Hale led, Elvi close at his side, bow strung and arrow notched. Lysera moved ahead of them, cloak drawn, hand weaving faint threads to scatter their presence. Tamsin muttered a curse under her breath with every step, satchel bouncing against her hip. Thorek trailed with his hammer slung across his back, grin too wide for the danger.
Elias and Noll followed near the rear, Rook pacing between them, tail low, ears twitching.
Every street felt wrong.
Elias's Resonance Sense prickled with each step, the Loom humming sharp in his chest. Sometimes it felt like a warning, sometimes like a lie. The Wardens had seeded snares, thin webs strung across alleys, threads invisible to the eye but humming when touched. Step too far, and the Choir would know exactly where they stood.
"Left," Elias muttered.
Hale didn't question. He cut down a side alley, the others flowing after. The cobbles here were slick with rainwater, the walls close, shadows heavy.
They moved fast, but the hum shifted again. Elias caught it in his teeth, a vibration in the stone. He hissed, "Stop."
The squad froze.
Ahead, the air shimmered faintly, no more than heat above fire. But Elias felt the resonance spike sharp and cruel.
"A snare," Lysera whispered, eyes narrowing.
Noll frowned, peering into the dark. "I don't see"
"Because you're not meant to," Elias cut him off. "It's waiting for you to step in."
The boy's face paled.
Lysera's hand brushed the threads, careful, precise. She hissed softly. "Layered. Choir made. We can't cut it without noise."
"Then we go around," Hale said.
But Elias shook his head. "No time. Patrol's close. I can feel them."
The hum in his chest grew sharper. Boots on stone, faint but steady, closing in.
"Then how," Elvi asked.
Elias swallowed, his grip tightening on the spear. "I'll cut it."
Lysera's eyes went ice pale. "No. You'll tear the Loom. It will sing your name across the city."
"Better a name than a grave," Elias muttered.
He stepped forward before she could stop him. Rook growled, low and warning, but didn't move away.
The air shimmered, the threads humming sharp. Elias closed his eyes, reached with his Resonance Sense, felt the weave vibrating like wires strung too tight.
He raised the spear. The etchings along its shaft flared faintly, echoing the hum.
"Come on," he whispered.
And thrust.
The spearhead struck nothing, and yet everything. The weave screamed, resonance snapping sharp, threads tearing apart with a burst of sparks. The shimmer dissolved, unraveling into ash.
Elias staggered, blood running from his nose, ribs screaming. His vision swam.
The alley fell silent. The snare was gone.
But the Loom had felt it. He knew it. His whole body thrummed with aftershocks, like he'd stood inside a bell at the moment of the strike.
Lysera caught his arm, her face tight with fury. "Fool. You've just painted us in fire."
"Alive fire's better than dead silence," Elias rasped.
Hale didn't waste time. "Move. Before the dogs smell the ash."
They slipped past the broken snare, running deeper into the maze. Rook kept close to Elias, every hair on his back bristling. Noll's face was pale but his eyes burned with awe.
"That's what you did before, isn't it," the boy whispered as they ran.
Elias shook his head, vision swimming. "Not like this. This was louder."
"Loud enough," Lysera muttered, her voice sharp as a knife.
The hum of Wardens' steps grew closer, their Choir weaving stronger. The squad turned corner after corner, each time guided by Elias's sharp instincts, his Resonance Sense flaring like a compass made of pain.
Once, he pulled them back just before a patrol rounded the bend. Once, he shoved Noll aside before a net thread could coil around his leg. Each time it cost him, blood from his nose, fire in his scars, the ache of resonance tearing at his chest.
But each time, they lived.
At last the alleys thinned, the air colder. The city walls loomed ahead, jagged where fire had blackened stone. Beyond them lay smoke, fog, and the black silhouette of Thornveil's trees clawing at the horizon.
Elias felt it in his bones, a distant hum, sharp and broken. The forest called like a wound that would not close.
Hale stopped at the last corner, raising a hand. "Scouts on the gate," he murmured. "Three, maybe four. Wards across the road."
"Then we'll bleed if we push through," Elvi said.
Lysera's eyes flicked to Elias. "Your sense. Can you find us a path."
Elias closed his eyes, grit his teeth, let the hum rise. The Loom pressed against him, jagged and raw. His scars burned, his ribs ached. But beneath it he felt something, a thread of weakness, a crack in the net.
He opened his eyes. "North wall. Crumbled near the river. There's a gap. It's thin, but it's there."
Hale nodded once. "Then that's our door."
They moved again, silent shadows slipping through smoke and ruin, the Wardens' songs rising behind them.
The net was closing, but the forest waited.
And Elias whispered to himself, "Better forest beasts than church hounds."
Rook's low growl was the only answer he needed.
The northern quarter burned low, embers drifting in the fog like fireflies.
They moved through alleys slick with soot and rain, every step measured, every breath held. The Wardens' hum pressed on the city like a storm front, Choirs tightening their song, net weaves buzzing sharp in the air. Ashvale itself felt smaller, strangled, as if the city had chosen its master and would not spare room for rebels any longer.
Hale led them through the ruin, Elvi at his flank, bow strung and ready. Lysera glided like a shadow, cloak brushing the stone, hand raised just enough to weave faint veils that blurred their shapes. Tamsin muttered curses under her breath, satchel bouncing against her hip with every hurried step. Thorek carried his hammer across his shoulders as though it were a banner, grin tight but unbroken.
Elias kept near the rear, spear braced in his hands, body aching with every breath. Rook trotted at his side, hackles raised, silver eyes catching every shift in the dark. Noll trailed just ahead of him, knuckles white on his spear shaft, his face drawn but his eyes burning with stubborn light.
They reached the river wall.
It loomed in the fog, stone scorched and fractured, one stretch collapsed into rubble where fire and time had eaten deep. Beyond it, the night air was colder, heavy with the smell of wet earth and resin. The trees of Thornveil clawed at the horizon, black against the stars, their branches twisting together like broken ribs.
"There," Elias rasped. His Resonance Sense thrummed sharp in his chest, pulling him toward the break. "The gap."
Hale scanned the shadows, jaw set. "Scouts."
Two Wardens stood among the rubble, armor dull under the fog, their hum faint but steady. One carried a short spear, the other wove faint wards across the stones. Not Choir trained, but close enough to be trouble.
"We can't go around," Lysera said. Her voice was iron. "Patrols sweep the other roads. This is the door."
"Then we break it," Hale said. His sword slid from its sheath without sound.
Elvi raised her bow, but Elias touched her arm. "Wait."
His Resonance Sense flared, the Loom humming sharp, jagged. The wards the Warden was weaving stretched thin, too tight, vibrating wrong. He could feel the fault lines in it, waiting.
"I can cut it," Elias whispered.
Lysera's eyes snapped to him, fury and fear together. "Not again. You'll tear the Loom wide enough to wake the Choirs."
Elias's grip tightened on the spear. "If we fight them clean, they'll scream. That'll wake the Choirs faster."
For a heartbeat no one moved. The Wardens shifted in the fog, their eyes scanning the street.
Hale gave one short nod. "Do it."
Elias stepped forward. The spear hummed in his hands, etchings alive with faint light. He drew a breath, let the resonance surge, felt the hum sharpen until his scars burned like fire.
The Warden's ward shimmered in the dark, threads drawn too taut. Elias thrust his spear through it.
The weave screamed.
Light flared, threads snapping apart in a spray of sparks. The ward collapsed, unraveling into smoke. The Warden gasped, staggering as his weave died mid cast. His companion shouted, spear raised.
Hale surged forward. His blade flashed, cutting the man down before his cry could rise. Elvi's arrow hissed past his shoulder, striking the second Warden through the throat.
Silence fell, heavy, broken only by the hiss of unraveling threads.
Elias staggered, blood hot on his lip. Rook pressed against his leg, growling low. Lysera's glare was ice, but she said nothing.
"Move," Hale barked.
They slipped through the rubble, out of Ashvale, into the fog.
The forest waited.
Thornveil stretched ahead, a wall of black trees twisting together, their branches thick with shadow. The air grew colder as they stepped onto the damp earth, the smell of resin sharp, the Loom's hum jagged and broken. It pressed against Elias's Resonance Sense like a thousand whispers all speaking at once.
Noll shivered beside him. "It feels wrong."
"It is wrong," Lysera said quietly. "The Sundering tore this place apart. The Loom never healed. That is why the beasts thrive."
Thorek chuckled under his breath. "A forge without walls. Fire without order. By the Forge, I've never loved a place more so quickly."
Tamsin shot him a look sharp enough to cut. "Love it when it eats you, dwarf. I'll stitch your ribs back together if there's anything left to stitch."
Rook growled, nose twitching. His silver eyes caught the dark, glowing faintly. Elias laid a hand on his fur, steadying him, though his own chest burned with the jagged hum. The forest thrummed with resonance, unstable, wild. Every step would be dangerous. Every breath a gamble.
Hale stopped at the tree line, looking back once at the city. Ashvale's walls loomed behind them, broken towers hunched against the smoke stained sky. Choirs hummed faint in the distance, Wardens' boots echoing through the streets they had left behind.
"Goodbye, Ashvale," he said softly.
Elvi lowered her bow, eyes on the trees. "We won't see it again."
"No," Hale agreed. "But we'll remember."
Elias shifted his spear against his shoulder, scars burning, Resonance Sense thrumming sharp. The forest loomed, hungry, waiting. Beasts prowled in its shadows, their threads humming wild and broken.
He exhaled, slow, steady. "Better beasts than hounds."
The squad stepped into Thornveil.
The forest closed behind them.