The city lay quiet beneath a velvet sky, stars blinking coldly above stone rooftops and winding alleys. But beneath that calm surface, a storm brewed — and I was the eye of it.
Liora handed me a small, sealed scroll, its black wax stamped with the emblem of the Black Veil: a shrouded raven in flight. The edges of the paper were worn, the ink slightly smudged — proof it had been passed through many hands.
"This is your mission," she said, her eyes sharp as daggers. "Infiltrate the Merchant's Guild. They've been trading with the crown's enemies behind the scenes, funding rebellions and dark magics. We need the ledger — every name, every transaction. If we expose them, it could bring down half the corrupt nobles in the city."
I nodded, heart pounding but mind clear. "What else?"
"No mistakes. No mercy. If they catch you, there's no one coming to save you."
Her words hung in the air, a warning I wouldn't forget.
That night, cloaked in shadows and the cold gift of power coursing through my veins, I slipped through the city like a wraith. Every step was measured, every breath silent. The streets were empty, but I knew the eyes of the crown's spies were everywhere.
The Merchant's Guild was a fortress of wealth — high stone walls, iron gates, and guards whose loyalty was bought with gold and promises. But none of that could stop me.
I scaled the wall with ease, magic tingling at my fingertips, senses sharpened beyond human limits. Inside, flickering candlelight illuminated polished wood tables scattered with papers and coins. The faint scent of old parchment and ink filled the air.
And there, on a cluttered desk in the back room, lay the ledger — thick, leather-bound, and humming with the weight of secrets.
A large man stood guard nearby, his bulk casting a shadow across the room. More muscle than mind, his breath was heavy and slow — easy prey for a silent strike.
I moved like a ghost, closing the distance in seconds. My hand shot out, clamping over his mouth, my other fist driving into his ribs. He crumpled silently, the only sound a soft thud as he hit the floor.
Careful not to make a sound, I lifted the ledger, feeling the power of the hidden names inside. This was more than paper — it was a weapon.
Suddenly, a voice sliced through the silence like a knife.
"Well, well, if it isn't the 'dead' captain."
I froze.
From the shadows stepped a figure I never thought I'd see again — someone whose smile was as cold and sharp as broken glass.
"Welcome back, Alex Smith," the voice said, eyes gleaming with cruel amusement. "The game's just begun.