The Ember Within

Prologue

Three Years Ago:

-The Very Beginning-

The air crackled with tension as angry shouts echoed through the narrow cobblestone streets. He ran, the familiar mask obscuring his face while his dark robe billowed behind him like a storm cloud.

"Catch him! He helped those servants escape!"

As I stood at the footpath at the side, my vision stood on him as the  black-robed officials of the Central Prison surged after him, their shouts a cacophony of fury. I knew just from a single stance that he had again defied King Edward's brutal regime, freeing the Vridans from a fate known as "Whipped Slavery," a merciless punishment where failure to pay taxes could lead to a gruesome death or a lifetime of torment and had sent them to hiding. Thousands had suffered at Edward's hands—men and women reduced to shadows of themselves, families torn apart by his cruelty and he had just saved some.

Compelled by desperation, I drank my illusion potion, a bitter concoction that sent a shiver down my spine, igniting the magic within me. I sprinted toward my target, adrenaline coursing through my veins.

"Come on!" I shouted, grasping his wrist and pulling him along as we dashed through the bustling marketplace. The scent of baked bread and spices hung in the air, mingling with the acrid smoke from a nearby forge. I could feel the eyes of countless onlookers, some filled with fear, others with curiosity, tracking our frantic escape.

We veered toward a dirt path, overgrown with weeds—a place even the police hesitated to enter, shrouded in shadows and uncertainty.

As the potion took hold, I wove an illusion, creating a shimmering veil that masked our presence, guiding us through hidden shortcuts. Finally, we stopped at the Crimson Graveyard, our secret sanctuary—a place where the past whispered through the wind and the twisted trees seemed to understand our plight.

"And like always, my pub manager saves me. Scarlet, you're too clever for your own good," he chuckled, removing his mask, the relief washing over him like a balm.

Sharon was in his early twenties, with striking blue eyes that sparkled even in the dim light, and a smile that could charm the fiercest of foes. But to me, he was the clumsiest and most reckless person I'd ever met. I'd become his pub manager a year ago, drawn in by his charisma and my desire to protect him, especially after I'd first saved him from a similar chase.

"Trust me and agree to my plan, and you won't find yourself in this mess again", I said, my voice steady, a seriousness settling over me like a cloak.

His playful glint dimmed as he met my gaze. "What do you have in mind?"

"Revenge for Edward's sins, including the murder of my family. For that, I need your help," I replied, the weight of my words heavy in the air. "You've seen my abilities; now it's time to put them to use."

Sharon hesitated, the burden of his family's status in Edward's court pressing down on him. The stakes were perilously high, and I could see the conflict etched on his face.

After months of planning and persuasion, I finally convinced him.

"Alright, Madame Scarlet. I'll join you", he said one night, determination threading through his voice. "But I need results."

"You'll get them", I promised, a mix of hope and fear swirling in my chest. "I'll lead, and you'll use your resources. We need to act quickly before the king catches wind of our plans."

"Very well, my pub manager and leader. Let's join forces," he agreed, a resigned sigh escaping him as he accepted his fate.

Thus, the Rebel was born that night, a defiant stand against the trials and torment Evan and I had endured for six long years at the hands of my uncle, King Edward. Orphaned through no fault of our own, I had turned my pain into purpose, determined to overthrow him and find Evan, my best friend.

Each morning in Redelvrid hence, Edward's letters threatened dire consequences for the Rebels, inked with fury and disdain. Yet, despite his plans being foiled time and again, he remained oblivious to the source of his people's newfound hope and courage—all thanks to me, his own niece, lurking in the shadows.

As the months turned into years, our movement grew stronger, a flickering flame of defiance against the suffocating darkness of Edward's reign. And before I knew it, three years had passed- years filled with blood, betrayal, and the relentless pursuit of freedom.