The Ashen Rebellion

04 | A Cause worth fighting for

NYSSA'S THOUGHTS WERE TRANSPORTED back to a time when she was nine years old, an innocent memory etched in the fabric of her heart. It was a sunny afternoon, and the chirping of birds filled the air as she played in the yard of their modest home. Her older brother, Jaxon, five years her senior, had just done something that drove her mad—perhaps teasing her about a silly mistake or calling her by a nickname she despised. She had stormed off, fuming with a childish rage that felt all-encompassing at the time.

Determined to find solace, Nyssa made her way to her father's workshop, a place of solace and creation. Her father, a blacksmith by trade, had introduced her to the art of forging weapons. It was an unusual hobby for a young girl, but she had taken to it with a passion, especially when she needed to vent her frustrations. She entered the dimly lit workshop, the familiar smell of metal and coal filling her nostrils. The clang of hammer on anvil had a rhythmic, calming effect as she set to work, pouring her anger into the shaping of a blade.

Minutes turned into hours, and she lost herself in the process. Her father's gentle eyes and warm smile interrupted her concentration as he entered the workshop. He watched her for a moment, his expression one of loving amusement mixed with concern.

"Nyssa," He called softly, but she didn't turn. He approached her, placing a firm yet gentle hand on her shoulder. "Fights are only temporary, my dear, but family lasts forever. That's why we need to take care of each other."

"But... he's older," She muttered, her voice tinged with resentment.

Her father knelt down beside her, his eyes level with hers. "Age doesn't change the fact that you both need each other. Your mother and I won't be around forever. One day, it will be just you and Jaxon. Promise me you'll look out for him, no matter what."

The thought of her parents being gone made her eyes well up with tears. She couldn't imagine a world without their warmth and guidance. "I promise," She whispered through her tears.

He pulled her into a comforting hug, the kind only a father could give, and held her until her sobs subsided. Once she had calmed, he gently took over the carving she was working on. "Go make up with your brother," He urged with a smile.

Nyssa wiped her eyes and nodded. She left the workshop, running across the yard to the stables where Jaxon was doing chores. Without hesitation, she flung herself into his arms, burying her face in his chest.

"I love you, Jaxon," She murmured.

He pressed a kiss to her forehead, hugging her back. "I love you too, little sister."

The memory faded, bringing Nyssa back to the present. She and Kael had run out of the building and joined Lyra and an unfamiliar blonde boy, around the age of ten, who had who had despite Kael's orders, waited for them.

Lyra let out a sigh of relief. "You guys made it."

The blonde boy ran to Kael and hugged his legs tightly. "I thought I told you guys not to wait," The older male sighed, returning the hug.

"Finn insisted on waiting," Lyra explained.

"Where are the others?" Kael asked.

''I told Arjun to go ahead and take Tarry, and that I'd wait with Finn for you," Lyra said, glancing at Nyssa, who stood beside Kael. "She's coming with us?"

He looked to Nyssa for confirmation. She nodded. She had come to the conclusion that she was a long way from home, without the energy or resources to make the trip back alone. And there was no telling if Jaxon would still be there after she came back, if he was even there in the first place. Relying on others, at least until she got back on her feet, seemed like the only viable option.

"Okay, well, we need to go," Lyra said.

They moved through the city with caution, sticking to alleyways and back walls to avoid detection. Every shadow seemed to hold potential danger, every sound amplified by their heightened senses. Eventually, they arrived at a large sewer lid. Kael checked their surroundings before opening it. He held it open for everyone to climb down, then closed it behind them, plunging them into darkness.

The stench of the sewers was foul and putrid, a mix of rotting waste and stagnant water. Most of them covered their noses to mask the smell. Despite the unpleasantness, Nyssa noticed that the group moved purposefully, indicating there was something important down there.

The narrow, dimly lit tunnel was damp and musty, filled with the scent of earth and mildew. Nyssa's senses were on high alert, every sound magnified in the confined space. She noticed that Kael lingered behind all the others, sensing a wariness within him, a certain readiness to act if need be.

They eventually reached a section covered by a sheet of moss. Moving it aside revealed an underground chamber hidden beneath the sewers. Her eyes widened in awe at the sight before her. The rebels' hideout was bustling with activity. Men and women moved purposefully, tending to wounds, poring over maps on crude wooden tables, roasting food over campfires, sword fighting, and sharpening weapons.

Lyra pulled Kael to the side and whispered something incoherent, "—trust her?"

Nyssa couldn't hear the rest, but she saw Kael shake his head after whatever dialogue was exchanged next.

Her attention was drawn to a large map pinned to the far wall. It depicted the region, with the Firelord's fortress prominently marked. Her heart ached at the thought of Jaxon. He was somewhere in that fortress, suffering while she was here, unable to do anything.

Lyra noticed her gaze and approached with a gentle expression. "We're working on a plan to rescue more prisoners," She said softly. "Including your brother."

Nyssa tensed at her words. Kael must have told her. She turned to face Lyra, skepticism clear in her eyes. "Why should I trust you?" She asked, letting the bitterness seep into her voice.

Lyra sighed. "I understand your hesitation. But we share a common enemy. The Firelord's tyranny affects all of us. We want to help, but we need to be careful and strategic. Rushing in blindly will only get more people injured, or worse...killed." Her eyes darkened at the last word, She must have lost someone important.

"But why?" Nyssa asked. "Why help anyone? What's your motive?" Everyone had one; she had learned that the hard way.

"Because we all have lost too much to the Firelord," Kael spoke up, his voice strong and compelling. "We've all lost family, friends, and our homes. We fight because we believe in a future where no one has to live in fear of the Firelord's wrath. We fight because we want to give people hope, a chance to live free from oppression. We fight because it's the right thing to do, not just for us, but for everyone who has suffered under his rule."

Nyssa stared at him in awe, the weight of his words sinking in. The fire in his eyes, the passion in his voice—it was undeniable. They were united by a common cause, driven by a shared pain and a desire for a better future.

As she stood among them, Nyssa realized that maybe, just maybe, she had found a place where she belonged, where she could make a difference. And as she thought of her brother, she knew she had to fight for him too, to keep the promise she made to her father all those years ago.