Rising Ashes

Dema

Aimee had spent her entire life trapped within the towering, oppressive walls of Dema. The city’s twisted religion, Vialism, governed everything, from daily rituals to the very concept of life and death. Its doctrines seeped into every aspect of her existence, but Aimee had always felt out of place, suffocated by the weight of its teachings.

Her parents had tried to indoctrinate her, just as they had been, to mold her into a perfect follower of Vialism. They taught her that true devotion meant giving up your life to become one of the "Glorious Gone"—citizens who willingly died and were resurrected by the Bishops, only to be used as pawns in their rituals. Aimee never understood how anyone could find honor in this, how her parents could be so proud of their decision. They became Glorious Gone when she was just thirteen, leaving her behind to navigate the suffocating grip of Vialism on her own.

Now, approaching her twenty-first birthday, her own bishop, Nills, had begun pushing her toward the same fate. He would visit frequently, his cold voice trying to persuade her to join her parents in the afterlife, as if death was a gift. But Aimee saw through the lies. She knew the truth—the Bishops' power came from their manipulation of the dead. They used the Glorious Gone like puppets, cruelly resurrecting them to torment their loved ones, ensuring no one could escape their grasp even in death.

For Aimee, there was no glory in that. She had no intention of becoming another pawn in the Bishops' twisted games. Instead, she planned to escape, to break free of the chains of Dema on her twenty-first birthday. Her heart was set on finding the Banditos—the mythical rebels who lived beyond the walls, fighting against the Bishops and Vialism. Many in Dema dreamed of escape, but most lost hope when they were recaptured and brought back, broken and defeated, their will to fight snuffed out.

But there was one who had never given up—Clancy. He was the symbol of rebellion, the only one who had repeatedly managed to escape the Bishops' grasp, only to return again and again. His persistence ignited hope in those who still dared to dream of freedom. The Bishops tried to convince the citizens that Clancy wasn’t real, that the Banditos were mere legends, but Aimee knew better. She had seen the Bishops' desperation when they broadcast a live stream of Clancy’s defiance, only for it to end in chaos.

And now, under the cover of night, Aimee made her move. The streets of Dema were eerily quiet, save for the unsettling presence of the Glorious Gone patrolling under the Bishops’ control. Their lifeless eyes scanned the darkness, searching for any sign of rebellion. Aimee stuck to the shadows, her heart racing with every step, moving carefully to avoid detection.

"East is up," she whispered to herself, repeating the mantra. The only way out was through the eastern gate, the one weakness in Dema’s otherwise impenetrable defenses.

Slipping into the sewers beneath the city, she navigated the tunnels, the foul stench assaulting her senses. It was the safest route, away from the watchful eyes of the Bishops and their undead servants. Every step brought her closer to the edge of Dema, to the freedom she had dreamed of her whole life. The Banditos were waiting beyond the walls—if she could just make it there, she would finally be free.

The sewers were damp and foul, the air thick with a rancid stench that clung to Aimee’s skin. Her boots splashed lightly against the trickle of sludge, but she kept her movements quiet, her ears tuned to the faintest sound. Above, she could hear the faint shuffling of the Glorious Gone, their lifeless bodies patrolling the streets under the Bishops’ command. They had no sense of mercy, no memory of who they were before—just mindless enforcers of Vialism, ensuring no one escaped Dema's grasp.

Aimee crouched low as she turned a corner in the tunnel, heart pounding in her chest. Her breath came in shallow gasps, but she couldn't afford to stop. The Bishops had eyes everywhere, and if they caught her now, they'd drag her back to be forced into submission—or worse, they’d mark her for an early death and resurrection.

She glanced at her wrist, where a faded compass was inked into her skin, a symbol of her determination to keep moving forward. "East is up," she reminded herself, pressing onward. The sewers ran under the entirety of Dema, but there was only one place they emptied out—just beneath the eastern gate.

She had memorized the route, every twist and turn. Weeks of planning, of learning the patrols, the quiet times, the dead zones, had led her to this moment. She wasn't the first to try and escape, but she prayed she’d be one of the few to succeed. Clancy had, and so could she.

Ahead, a faint light filtered through a rusted grate—a checkpoint. Aimee slowed her pace, careful not to make a sound. She climbed up, peeking through the metal bars. Two of the Glorious Gone stood just beyond the sewer entrance, motionless but alert. Their milky white eyes swept the narrow alley, their ears attuned to any noise. The Bishops' control was strong here, their powers forcing the dead to obey without question.

Aimee held her breath. She had one chance to get past them. Reaching into her pouch, she pulled out a small, smooth stone. She kissed it for luck and threw it down the tunnel behind her, the sound of it echoing through the hollow space. The Glorious Gone turned, their heads jerking unnaturally toward the noise. For a brief moment, they abandoned their post.

This was her chance. She slipped through the grate, silent as a shadow, her body pressed flat against the walls as she darted down the alley and into the streets. The eastern gate loomed ahead, its towering structure a stark reminder of Dema’s cage. Just beyond it lay TRENCH—the vast, uncharted continent that stretched far beyond the walls of the city. A place of danger, but also of freedom.

But the gate was heavily guarded. Bishops stood at its base, their ornate robes flowing, their eyes glowing faintly with the power they held over the dead. The Glorious Gone patrolled in front of them, their movements stiff but efficient. There would be no sneaking past them here.

Aimee’s only hope was the secret opening beneath the gate—the one Clancy had used on his last escape. It wasn’t widely known, a rusted old hatch hidden in plain sight among the metal beams. Aimee ducked low, keeping herself concealed in the shadows as she approached the gate. The ground beneath her was littered with debris and abandoned belongings, remnants of others who had tried and failed to flee.

She reached the hatch and knelt, fingers fumbling at the edges of the rusted metal. Her heart hammered in her chest as she tried to pry it open, but the years of disuse had sealed it tight. Every second she spent here felt like an eternity, the presence of the Bishops and their soldiers pressing down on her.

With a grunt, she pulled harder, finally feeling the latch give way with a loud creak. Her heart stopped for a moment—had anyone heard that?

No time to dwell. She slipped through the hatch, dropping down into a narrow passageway. It was cramped and claustrophobic, but it led directly under the gate and out to the wilderness beyond. Aimee crawled on her hands and knees, the cold earth brushing against her as she made her way through. Every inch brought her closer to freedom, but the walls seemed to press in tighter, as if the city itself was trying to drag her back.

Then, she saw it—light at the end of the tunnel. She moved faster now, dirt and grime covering her, but she didn’t care. The narrow passage opened up into the base of a hill just outside Dema’s walls. The air out here was cleaner, colder.

Aimee stood, breathing in deeply, the weight of the city lifting from her shoulders. For the first time in her life, she was free. But she wasn't safe yet.

Ahead laid TRENCH, an untamed and wild continent filled with dangers of its own. But it also held hope—the Banditos, the rebellion, a life beyond the Bishops’ control. She glanced back at the towering walls of Dema in the distance, still looming, but now powerless against her.

Without another thought, Aimee turned east and began her journey into TRENCH, ready to face whatever lay ahead. The Bishops wouldn’t take her without a fight.