The bounty board was nailed to the side of a collapsed inn, and despite the fact that it was crooked and half-scorched, it was still very much legible enough to draw a crowd.
Kael stood in the shadow of a crumbling archway, half-concealed by a broken pillar, as he watched the group of drifters gather around the board. The armor that they all had on was mismatched, and their weapons were very clearly salvaged from a dozen dead places, but their eyes, the look in their eyes, was enough to show how very hungry they all were.
A tall and wiry looking man who was wearing a faded red cloak, jabbed a gloved finger at the newest parchment tacked to the board.
"This one's fresh, and according to this, it just came in this morning."
Kael squinted his eyes, trying to read the content of the board from a distance. The paper was rough, but thankfully, the ink was still dark enough to be readable from afar.
"Bounty Notice: Subject Identified
Name: Unknown
Alias: Markbearer
Threat Level: Red
Confirmed Ashbrand Activation.
Reward: 5,000 sovereigns. Dead or Alive."
The sketched face that was right under the text looked enough like him to make Kael's stomach twist, but he couldn't help but notice that the eyes were wrong, and too sunken, and the hair was longer than it should have been, but the mark on the chest, that branded emblem that had burned itself into his skin, was pretty much unmistakable.
"Five thousand? Shit," a second voice said, clearly surprised by the price that had been put on the target's head. "You could buy a house in the Inner Rings with that amount of money."
The red-cloaked man chuckled. "Just a house? You could buy a darn city with that money!"
Kael ducked back into the alley with his pulse thudding hard against his ribs. He didn't need more proof that the bounty was real, and with the way the men had grinned, and the eagerness that was clearly in their voices, they weren't just interested, they were already imagining the hunt, and for that amount of money, they would do anything to catch him.
He moved very fast through the city's outskirts, going past the shattered fountains and the burnt down market stalls. From his observation, the place must've been grand at some point with the marble roads, the huge monuments, and the bronze-framed windows that were basically shining brighter with the morning light.
It had to have been a place of importance, but now, all of it was completely burnt down and ruined like the world had come to an end momentarily.
Kael turned a corner and slipped into what seemed like the remains of a blacksmith's workshop, breathing heavily. He pressed a hand to his chest to calm himself, noticing that the mark was dormant, and quiet again, even though it was faintly warm under the skin.
He had a feeling though, that it wouldn't stay that way for long.
---
Kael continued to move cautiously, staying in the shadows at every chance, and dodging patrols of bounty hunters as they spread out into the city. Some looked like they were official soldiers, wearing armor with faded emblems, while the others were clearly just freelance killers, the kind who hunted for any amount whatsoever, and carried around with them chains that were meant for dragging bodies behind horses.
He avoided the main roads, slipping through alleyways and broken buildings, and a collapsed brewery gave him temporary shelter. The air inside the brewery smelled of rot and rust, but it was quiet enough for him to get some rest, at least for a while.
He scavenged a rusted water flask, half a loaf of hard bread, and a dull short sword from a fallen rack, and even though it wasn't much, it was more than enough to sustain him for as long as he needed.
He didn't know where to go, only that he needed to keep moving. He couldn't afford to stay behind, and get caught.
By midday, the streets of the rundown city were already filled with the desperate and the cruel, and at every corner that Kael turned, he felt like there were multiple eyes tracking him, and even the broken windows were starting to look like a barrel waiting to fire.
A young girl bumped into him near the old stadium, and when he instinctively reached to try to hold on to her so she wouldn't lose her balance, she slipped a blade toward his hip, but thankfully, Kael managed to catch her wrist fast.
The girl froze and looked up at him, clearly shocked by how quickly he was able to stop her.
She looked no older than fifteen, but she was basically all ribs, with dry skin, and bloody knuckles. "You have to be careful," she said, trying to yank free.
"And you have to be smarter," he replied before letting her go.
She didn't thank him, instead, she just turned and vanished into the crowd.
By late afternoon, Kael had managed to reach the northern quarter, or better still, what remained of it because from what he was seeing, the buildings had collapsed into each other like dominoes, and the crows were picking at something near the base of a well.
Kael suspected that whatever it was, it wasn't alive, so he kept his distance to avoid seeing something he didn't want to see.
It was then that the first real encounter came, and he heard the sound of steel before he even saw them. A whistle, as well as the crunch of boots on broken stone.
Three figures came out from a side street, and they were all dressed in black. Their cloaks were ash-gray, clearly stained by what was clearly hours of traveling on foot, and not only were their weapons clearly polished, and ready to go, but their movements were also clean, making it clear that they weren't freelancers, and were also not drifters.
They were professionals.
The one in front stepped forward, and her face was covered with a thin silver mask that had the mouth open to reveal an unreadable smile.
"You're Kael," she said calmly, but of course, Kael didn't answer.
She tilted her head, strangely amused by his silence. "The Ashbrand is active, and even if you want to, you can't hide it. We could smell the heat from miles away."
The others gathered around her, and raised their blades that were shining faintly with some kind of magic.
Kael took a step back. "I don't want to fight," he announced, and he meant it.
The woman shrugged. "Well, you really don't have to. All you have to do is just lie down, put your hands behind your head, and once you do that, we'll take you in clean with no fighting, no pain, and no unnecessary bleeding."
On hearing her suggestion, Kael almost considered it, but then, the memory of the bounty board flashed in his mind, and he remembered that the bounty stated that he could be brought in dead or alive.
From the looks of it, they weren't going to bring him in alive since they wanted his body, and his mark.
So instead of doing what she asked, he turned and ran, and they immediately chased after him through the ruins. Kael ducked into an old temple, jumped over a stone bench, and crashed through a weak, and rotted door that led to a hidden room that was filled with nothing but dust, and bird feathers.
The sword that he had at his side was worthless against trained killers, but he had something else.
The mark.
It pulsed once, a deep kind of throb, and Kael felt the heat rise behind his sternum. He didn't know how it worked, but at this point, and with the situation that he had found himself in, he didn't care. He simply let go of the fear, the doubt, and the hesitation, and as soon as he did, something inside answered.
The ash around him lifted, swirled, and hardened, and the weapon, the one from earlier, formed again, flickering at first before it finally stabilized. It was a single-edged blade that was long and shining brightly with barely contained force.
Kael turned, and that was when the first attacker entered with his blade drawn. He slashed at Kael, and Kael moved, faster than he should have, and the moment his own blade met with his opponent's sword, it shattered it, but Kael didn't stop there.
The weapon continued to drive forward, and it ended up cutting through the attacker's armor, and through bone.
The man crumpled, and at the sight of it, the other two hesitated at the doorway.
Kael raised the blade. "Still want to take me in?"
They exchanged a glance, and instead of daring to come forward, they ran, and Kael waited until their footsteps had completely vanished before collapsing down to one knee, while the weapon dissolved and disappeared like the first time.
He was breathing very hard with blood on his hands, and the mark was pulsing wildly.
He'd won now, and managed to keep his life, but he knew that they'd be back, and the next time they returned, he was certain that they wouldn't hesitate.
---
Night fell, and Kael climbed a watchtower on the edge of the city, overlooking the ruins. There was a fire burning in the distance, and he watched as the patrols moved like ants through the wreckage.
He wasn't just being hunted, he was being drawn out. He wasn't sure what, but he could tell that something wanted him to use the mark, and something wanted him to awaken whatever power was asleep inside him, but the question was, why?
He stared down at his chest, watching again as the mark kept glowing faintly in the dark, and beating in tune with his heartbeat.
Then, behind him, he heard a voice suddenly speak to him.
"You're not ready yet."
Immediately, Kael turned around to see a man who was standing on the edge of the tower, with his arms folded. He was clearly older, and Kael took a step back, not sure whether to attack or run.
"Who are you?" he asked.
The man inclined his head. "You can call me a keeper of stories, or a witness to flame, but more importantly, I'm your only chance at not dying horribly."
Kael didn't lower his guard, and the man smiled. "Come with me, Kael. There are things you need to remember, and many things that you also need to unlearn."
"Why should I trust you?" Kael asked, and the stranger turned.
"Because the gods want you dead, but I don't, so I'm here to help you stop them," the stranger responded, and then he began to walk away, vanishing into the stairwell.
Kael stood there a moment longer, and after a while of being skeptical, he finally decided to follow.