# **CHAPTER 4: "BLOOD AND ANSWERS"**
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The timber merchant's shop was closed.
Not just closed for the day—*abandoned*. Kael peered through the grimy window at empty shelves and a counter thick with dust. A handwritten sign hung crookedly on the door: *RELOCATED. NO FORWARDING ADDRESS.*
"Convenient timing," Kael muttered.
He'd spent the morning tracking down the merchant—a man named Garrett who'd supposedly bought timber from the villages in the rural territories, including Kael's. According to the records Liora had dug up, Garrett had made three trips to Kael's village in the six months before it burned.
Three trips. Enough to learn the layout. Enough to know routines.
Enough to sell that information to someone.
But now Garrett was gone, and the shop looked like it had been empty for weeks.
Kael circled the building, checking for other entrances. The back door was locked, but the wood was old and weathered. He considered breaking in, then stopped himself.
*What would that accomplish? If Garrett's gone, he took everything useful with him.*
Still, something felt wrong. The timing was too perfect. Had Garrett known they were investigating? Had someone warned him?
A sound made Kael turn.
An old woman was watching him from across the alley, arms folded, expression shrewd.
"You looking for Garrett?" she called.
"You know where he went?"
"Gone. Left two days ago in the middle of the night. Paid three months' back rent in gold and disappeared." She hobbled closer, studying Kael with sharp eyes. "You're not the first to come looking. Someone else was asking about him yesterday."
Kael's hand drifted toward the wrapped sword. "Who?"
"Didn't give a name. Tall fellow, hood pulled low. Had this way of moving—quiet-like, even on the cobblestones." She shivered. "Gave me the creeps. Asked if Garrett had said anything before leaving. I told him no, same as I'm telling you."
"Did Garrett say anything?"
"Not to me. But I heard him talking to someone the night before he left. Arguing, sounded like. Couldn't make out the words, but Garrett was scared. Really scared." She leaned in conspiratorially. "Then the next morning, he's packing up like the building's on fire. Whatever spooked him, it spooked him *bad*."
Kael pulled out a few coins—less than he could afford, but enough to show appreciation. "If anyone else comes asking—"
"I don't remember talking to you." She pocketed the coins smoothly. "And you should probably leave before whoever scared Garrett comes back."
Sound advice.
Kael headed back toward the main streets, mind churning. The merchant had fled. Someone else—someone who moved quietly—had been asking about him. And Garrett had been arguing with someone the night before he disappeared.
Was Garrett the informant? Or just another loose end someone was tying up?
He needed to find Liora.
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They met at a small tea house in the merchant quarter—neutral ground where they could talk without drawing attention.
Liora was already there, sitting in the back corner with a cup of something dark and bitter-smelling. Her expression told him she hadn't had better luck.
"The medicine woman is dead," she said without preamble. "Found her body in the harbor three days ago. No witnesses, no suspects. City guard ruled it an accident."
"Accident."
"She drowned. In two feet of water. While fully conscious." Liora's tone was flat. "Very accidental."
Kael sat heavily. "The merchant's gone. Fled the city two days ago. And someone else was asking about him—someone who moves quietly."
"Professional."
"That's what I thought." He accepted tea from the serving girl, not really tasting it. "Two of our three leads. Both dead or disappeared within days of us starting to investigate."
"Which means someone knows we're looking." Liora's purple eyes were troubled. "And they're cleaning up loose ends faster than we can follow them."
"What about the third lead? The former resident?"
"Haven't checked yet. But if the pattern holds..." She didn't finish the sentence.
They sat in grim silence.
"We're being played," Kael said finally. "Someone wants us to know we're too late. Wants us to understand they're always one step ahead."
"Or they're just covering their tracks and we happened to stumble into the cleanup operation." Liora sipped her tea thoughtfully. "Either way, we're not going to find answers by chasing people who are already dead or gone."
"Then what do we do?"
"We go to the source." She met his eyes. "Verath."
The name hung between them like a drawn blade.
"You found him," Kael said quietly.
"Found where he's staying. One of my contacts saw him entering a building in the warehouse district last night. Top floor, probably rented under a false name, but it's him. Red eyes are hard to hide." She set down her cup. "If we move tonight, we can catch him before he gets new orders and leaves the city."
"And then?"
"And then you get your answers. Or your revenge. Maybe both." Her expression was serious. "But Kael, this isn't like the fight in the alley. Verath is trained. Experienced. He's killed more people than you've met. If we do this, there's a real chance one or both of us doesn't walk away."
Kael touched the wrapped sword across his back. The blade was warm—or maybe that was just his imagination. Either way, it felt... ready.
"I've been waiting for this since the moment I climbed out of that basement," he said. "If he kills me, at least I'll die fighting instead of hiding."
"That's not inspirational, that's just fatalistic."
"Maybe. But it's true." He looked at her. "You don't have to come. This is my revenge, not yours."
"Idiot." Liora's smile was slight but genuine. "You think I'd let you face him alone? After everything?" She stood, leaving coins on the table. "We do this together. But we do it smart. Plan the approach, watch for guards, have an escape route. Agreed?"
"Agreed."
They left the tea house as the afternoon sun began its descent toward evening.
Tonight, one way or another, Kael would face the man who'd destroyed his world.
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The warehouse district at night was a maze of shadows and forgotten spaces.
Kael and Liora moved carefully through the narrow alleys, avoiding the main streets where guards might patrol. The building Liora's contact had identified was four stories tall—unusual for this district—with a flat roof and minimal windows.
Easy to defend. Hard to escape.
"Top floor," Liora whispered, pointing. "Single light in the window. He's alone or he's confident enough not to care about being seen."
"Guards?"
"None visible. But that doesn't mean they're not there." She studied the building's layout. "Fire escape on the east side leads to the roof. We can approach from above, come down through the roof access. He won't expect that."
"Or he will, and we walk into a trap."
"Always possible." Liora's grin was sharp. "That's what makes it exciting."
They circled to the fire escape. The metal was old but stable, barely creaking as they climbed. Four stories felt like forty, every shadow a potential threat, every sound a possible alarm.
But they reached the roof without incident.
The access door was unlocked.
"That's not suspicious at all," Kael muttered.
"Maybe he really is that confident." Liora tested the door carefully. "Or maybe he wants us to come."
"Either way, we're here now."
They descended the stairs—wooden, narrow, dimly lit by a single lantern at each landing. Kael unwrapped the black sword as they moved, feeling the familiar weight settle into his grip.
The blade was cold. Silent. Waiting.
Fourth floor. Third floor. Second floor.
The top floor had only one door.
Light leaked from underneath it, and Kael could hear... nothing. No movement. No breathing. Just silence.
Liora positioned herself to one side of the door. Kael took the other. She held up three fingers.
*Three. Two. One.*
She kicked the door open.
The room beyond was sparsely furnished—a bed, a table, a single chair. And standing at the window, looking out at the city, was Verath.
He didn't turn. Didn't react to the door crashing open. Just stood there, hands clasped behind his back, red eyes reflecting the city lights.
"I was wondering when you'd come," he said calmly.
Kael stepped into the room, sword raised. "Turn around."
"The boy from the village. The one who survived." Verath finally turned, and Kael saw him properly for the first time.
He was younger than expected—maybe thirty, with a lean build and a face that might have been handsome if not for the cold intelligence in those glowing red eyes. He wore simple black clothes, no armor, and carried a single sword at his hip.
"You remember me," Kael said.
"I remember everyone." Verath's gaze flicked to the black blade. "Though I admit, I didn't expect you to be carrying *that*. Interesting choice of weapon."
"You killed my family. My village. Everyone I knew."
"Yes." No hesitation. No remorse. Just simple acknowledgment.
"Why?"
"Because I was ordered to." Verath's hand rested on his sword hilt—casual, but ready. "The crown issued the command. I executed it. That's what I do."
"That's it?" Kael's voice was rising. "That's your answer? You murdered innocent people because someone told you to?"
"I'm a soldier. Soldiers follow orders." Verath's expression didn't change. "Were they innocent? Probably. Does it matter? No. The crown decides guilt. I enact judgment. That's the system."
"The system is broken."
"Perhaps." Verath drew his sword—a smooth, practiced motion. "But it's the only system we have. And I'm very good at my job."
"Not good enough to notice me following you."
"Oh, I noticed." Verath's smile was cold. "I've known you were hunting me since you killed those thugs in the alley."
The words hit like ice water.
"You *let* me find you?"
"The merchant who fled? I scared him off. The medicine woman? She knew too much, so I disposed of her. Your friend's contacts?" Verath gestured at Liora. "I think you know too much, where and how do find I'll make sure find." His red eyes gleamed. "I wanted you to come here.."
Rage flooded through Kael—hot and overwhelming. "You bastard. You—"
Verath moved.
One moment he was standing by the window. The next, he was *there*, sword blurring toward Kael's throat.
Kael barely got the black blade up in time.
Steel met whatever-the-sword-was-made-of with a sound like breaking glass. Verath's eyes widened—just a fraction—as his weapon stopped cold against the black metal.
Then the real fight began.
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Verath was *fast*.
Faster than the thugs in the alley. Faster than Kael's training had prepared him for. The assassin moved like water, each strike flowing into the next, no wasted motion, no hesitation.
Kael gave ground, blocking frantically. The black sword felt heavier now—or maybe it was his arms, already burning from the effort of keeping up.
"You've had training," Verath observed, pressing forward. "Recent, not extensive. Three days? Four?" He feinted high, struck low. Kael barely twisted aside. "But training only goes so far without experience."
A cut opened on Kael's shoulder—shallow but painful.
"Experience teaches you when to attack." Another strike, deflected. "When to defend." A kick to Kael's chest sent him stumbling back. "And when to run."
Kael crashed into the table, rolling aside as Verath's blade split the wood where he'd been.
*Move. Think. He's faster but you have reach. Use it.*
Kael swung wide, forcing Verath back. The assassin moved aside easily, but it gave Kael space. Room to breathe.
"The sword," Verath said, circling now. "You are just swinging that sword, Nothing else."
"Maybe I have more than you think."
"Maybe." Verath's eyes narrowed. "Or maybe you're learning to control the flow. Impressive, if true. Most users of corrupted weapons die in their first fight when the blade consumes them completely."
*Corrupted weapon. Is that what this is?*
No time to think about it. Verath attacked again—a flurry of strikes that had Kael backpedaling toward the window.
Then Liora joined the fight.
Her staff cracked against Verath's ribs—hard enough to make him grunt and twist away. She pressed the attack, movements precise and practiced, forcing the assassin to divide his attention.
"Two on one," Verath remarked. "I suppose that's fair."
His free hand snapped up, and purple Eidric energy crackled around his fingers.
"Down!" Liora shouted.
Kael dropped.
Lightning—actual *lightning*—seared the air where his head had been, scorching the wall behind him. The smell of ozone filled the room.
*He's an Eidric user. Of course he is.*
Verath was already moving again, sword and lightning working in tandem. He drove Liora back with a combination of strikes and energy blasts, forcing her toward the door.
Kael pushed himself up, muscles screaming. The sword in his hands felt... different now. Warmer. Like it was responding to his need. To his desperation.
Energy flowed—his energy, he realized. Flowing down his arms, into the blade. The red veins along the sword's surface pulsed brighter.
*Control it. Don't let it take everything. Just enough.*
He charged.
Verath turned at the last second, bringing his sword up—
The black blade cut through it.
Clean. Effortless. Verath's weapon simply... parted. The top half clattered to the floor.
For the first time, the assassin looked genuinely surprised.
Kael didn't hesitate. He drove forward, the black blade aimed at Verath's chest.
The assassin threw himself backward, hand coming up with more lightning—
Kael cut through that too.
The Eidric energy dispersed like smoke, harmless. The blade seemed to *drink* it, absorbing the power and leaving nothing behind.
"What *are* you?" Verath breathed.
"Someone you shouldn't have underestimated."
Kael struck again. Verath dodged, but his movements were different now—defensive, uncertain. The confidence was gone, replaced by calculation.
"You can't win," the assassin said. "Even if you kill me, there are others. The Elite Force. The kings. You're only one boy. You'll die—"
"Then I'll die fighting." Kael's voice was cold. "But you'll die first."
He swung.
This time, he didn't hold back. Didn't try to control the flow. Just let the sword *be* what it was.
The blade caught Verath across the chest—not deep, but enough. The assassin stumbled backward, hand pressed to the wound.
Blood. Red and very human.
"Any last words?" Kael asked.
Verath looked at him. And for just a moment, something shifted in those red eyes. Not fear. Not anger. Just... weariness.
"I was following orders," he said quietly. "That's all I've ever done." Order's to look someone not you.
Then Liora's staff cracked across his skull, and Verath dropped.
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The room was silent except for Kael's ragged breathing.
Verath lay motionless on the floor. Not dead—Kael could see his chest rising and falling shallowly. But unconscious. Defeated.
"Is he..." Kael couldn't finish the question.
"Alive. Barely." Liora checked the assassin's pulse. "That blow should keep him down for a while. Maybe permanently, if he has a concussion." She looked up at Kael. "What do you want to do?"
What did he want?
Kael stared down at the man who'd destroyed his village. Who'd killed Father Aldric. Who'd taken everything.
He could kill him now. Finish it. No one would blame him.
But Verath's last words echoed: *I was following orders.*
"He's just a weapon," Kael said finally. "Killing him doesn't fix anything. Doesn't bring them back. Doesn't stop whoever gave the orders."
"So we let him live?"
"No." Kael's jaw tightened. "We make sure he can't hurt anyone else. Then we go after the person who aimed him."
Liora nodded slowly. "The Crown. King Alder."
"Eventually. But first—"
A sound outside. Footsteps. Multiple people.
"Company," Liora hissed.
They moved to the window. Below, in the street, a group of soldiers was approaching—not city guard. These wore different uniforms. Black with silver trim.
Elite Force.
"They know he's here," Kael said.
"Or they're supposed to meet him." Liora's expression darkened. "Either way, we need to leave. Now."
They ran for the roof access, leaving Verath unconscious on the floor. Behind them, they heard the door downstairs crash open. Shouted orders. Heavy footsteps on the stairs.
The roof. The fire escape. They climbed down as fast as they dared, not caring about noise anymore. Just speed. Just distance.
They hit the ground running and didn't stop until they were six blocks away, tucked into an alley where the shadows were thick and the Elite Force wouldn't think to look.
"That was too close," Liora gasped.
"We got him though." Kael's hands were shaking now, adrenaline fading. "We actually beat him."
"You beat him. That sword..." She looked at the black blade in his hands. "It cut through his Eidric energy like it wasn't there. I've never seen anything do that."
"It wanted to do more." Kael's voice was quiet. "I could feel it. Wanting to consume him. To unmake him like those thugs. I had to hold it back."
"But you did. That's what matters." She touched his shoulder. "Come on. We need to get back to the inn, grab our things, and leave the city. Those soldiers will search everywhere once they find Verath. We can't be here when they do."
They made their way through the dark streets, taking alleys and backways, avoiding main roads.
By the time they reached the inn, dawn was approaching. They packed quickly—what little they had—and were out the door before the sun cleared the horizon.
At the city gates, they joined the flow of early morning traffic. Merchants heading to market. Farmers with goods to sell. No one looked twice at two more travelers leaving Aldengard.
The guards at the gate waved them through without inspection.
And just like that, they were outside the walls. Free. Alive.
Kael turned back once, looking at the city rising behind them. Somewhere in there, Verath was waking up—or not. The Elite Force was searching for whoever had attacked him. King Alder sat on his throne, unaware that someone was finally fighting back.
*This isn't over*, Kael promised silently. *This is just beginning.*
"Kael?" Liora was waiting ahead on the road. "You coming?"
He turned away from Aldengard and followed her.
Behind them, the sun rose over the capital, painting the stones red like blood.
And in the shadows of the warehouse district, soldiers found Verath's body, carried it away in silence, and reported to someone with cold eyes and colder anger that one of their own had fallen.
The hunt had begun.
But now, the hunters were being hunted.
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**END CHAPTER 4**
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