The alley was quiet now, except for the soft hiss of falling ash against cobblestones. Aren Vale leaned against the wall, his breath coming in short, ragged bursts. The Crown of Silent Ashes, still dormant but pulsating faintly beneath his chest, gave him a sense of grim purpose he hadn't felt before.
A sudden clatter echoed from the far end of the alley. Aren flinched and instinctively grabbed a loose brick, ready to throw it at whatever foolish intruder dared approach.
To his surprise, it wasn't a thug or a sect assassin—it was a girl. A small, delicate girl in a cloak too large for her thin frame. Her hair shimmered like silver in the ash-light, and her green eyes stared at him with a mixture of curiosity and alarm.
"Oh!" she gasped. "I-I didn't know anyone was here!"
Aren squinted. "Really? Because it looked like you planned to stumble into my private bloodbath."
The girl blinked. "Bloodbath? I-I was just—"
"You were just what? Practicing your clumsiness? Excellent. Keep it up, it's very… heroic." Aren muttered sarcastically.
She hesitated. "You… you're Aren Vale, aren't you?"
Aren raised an eyebrow. "And if I am? Are you here to assassinate me, or just congratulate me for surviving?"
She flinched. "No! I-I just…" Her voice faltered. "I'm supposed to deliver a message. From… the Moonlight Sect?"
Aren leaned forward, suddenly interested. "A message, huh? From one of those fancy sects that like to chop people into ash for fun?"
"Yes… but it's not a threat!" she protested, holding out a small, folded parchment.
Aren snatched it with one hand, tearing it open with exaggerated care. The paper was thick and wax-sealed. The words inside were written in neat, careful script:
"You are invited to a private demonstration of Moonlight Sect techniques. Attendance is mandatory. Failure to appear may result in… disciplinary action."
He read it aloud, voice dripping with sarcasm. "Mandatory attendance… or disciplinary action. Oh, joy. I just love being invited to things I never asked for."
The girl tilted her head. "I… I think it's a mistake. Maybe they sent it to the wrong person?"
Aren smirked. "Right. They accidentally invited Aren Vale, the Nullborn without fate, to a sect gathering. Totally plausible."
She hesitated, clearly trying to gauge if he was serious or mocking her. "I-I can accompany you… if you want. I mean, I'm already here, and—"
Aren's lips twitched in a smirk. "Let me guess. You're the 'friendly neighborhood guide' who accidentally wandered into my alley to save me from my own incompetence?"
She blinked. "W-What? No! I just… wanted to help."
Aren chuckled, a low, dangerous sound. "Of course. Help. That's what people always want with me. Help. Or maybe another way to watch me die spectacularly."
The girl's lips quivered. She seemed small, fragile… and yet, there was something in her gaze that held a stubborn fire.
"Name's Lyra," she said, finally, voice steady. "Lyra Faye. I… I was sent to make sure you actually go."
Aren raised a brow. "Go where?"
"To the demonstration," she said. "The Moonlight Sect… they want you there. They said—"
"They said what? That I'll be chopped into ash if I refuse?" Aren interrupted. "Thanks. That's reassuring."
Lyra's ears turned red. "I… I didn't write it! I just… deliver the messages."
Aren laughed. It was a sound without humor, but oddly infectious. "Ah, of course. The messenger girl with flaming green eyes, right out of some romance story. Just what I needed today."
Lyra's face flushed deeper. "I-I'm not… a messenger girl for a story. I just…"
"Yeah, yeah," Aren said, waving her off. "Don't worry. I'll survive. As usual."
A tense silence followed, broken only by the faint drip of ash from the rooftops above. Aren studied her. She wasn't a threat, but she wasn't a civilian either. There was a subtle tension in her stance, a careful measurement of her own strength against the unknown in front of her.
"Listen," Aren said finally. "I don't know why the Moonlight Sect wants me there. But… I am curious. You're coming?"
Lyra nodded, hesitating only a moment before matching his pace. "I… I suppose it's safer than being left behind."
Aren snorted. "Oh, don't flatter yourself. I'm not exactly safe to be around. But you'll learn that soon enough."
They walked out of the alley together, shadows stretching long beneath the dim glow of the city.
From above, unseen, a pair of crimson eyes watched them. Someone—or something—was taking notes. Someone who knew more about the Nullborn than Aren suspected.
The crown inside him pulsed once more, faint and insistent. He could feel its dormant energy stirring, like a heartbeat beneath his ribs.
"Hmm," he murmured. "Maybe this demonstration will be fun after all."
Lyra glanced at him. "Fun?"
Aren smirked, glancing at the city rooftops. "Oh, you have no idea."
(End of Chapter Two)