The city of Draith Hollow shimmered beneath the dusk like a mirage made of daggers.
Built between razorstone cliffs and crimson dunes, it was a place where thieves ruled, secrets thrived, and trust was sold in weighted coin purses. It wasn’t on any official Dominion map. That’s because the Dominion didn’t own it.
The Desert Guilds did.
Ryker Vance adjusted the ragged scarf around his neck as he stepped through the crooked archway into the lower slums of Draith Hollow, with Kaen Rook beside him—arms crossed, eyes sharp, chain-link still looped loosely around his wrist like a serpent waiting to strike.
They were being watched.
“You sure she’s here?” Kaen asked, low.
Ryker didn’t answer with words.
He stopped walking.
The moment he did, five cloaked figures dropped from the balconies above, blades already drawn.
Kaen cracked his neck. “I hate polite welcomes.”
But Ryker raised a hand.
“No killing unless they deserve it.”
Kaen’s smirk curled. “Then let’s make ‘em earn it.”
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---
The first attacker lunged—dagger gleaming.
Ryker moved in a blur—dodging sideways, hand twisting the air in front of him. A gust of spiraling wind sent the assailant crashing into a spice vendor's stall.
Kaen snapped a chain outward like a whip—shattering a sword mid-swing before elbowing its wielder into a pile of sandstone bricks.
But it wasn’t the attackers Ryker was focused on.
It was the girl watching from the rooftop.
Cloaked. Barefoot. With a silver eye-patch and a hood that didn’t quite cover the smirk on her face.
She wasn’t panicking.
She was studying them.
And she was testing them.
“I know who you are!” she called from above. “You’re the bounty boys everyone’s whispering about. The Emberbrand and his Chain Dog.”
Kaen growled.
Ryker just tilted his head. “And you?”
She pulled back her hood.
Freckles. Sun-browned skin. A streak of crimson braided through black hair.
And one glowing eye.
“Kess Lira. Desert ghost. Best thief this side of the Emberline.”
She whistled, and the remaining attackers vanished like smoke—disappearing into the alleys.
Ryker raised a brow. “Fancy entrance.”
Kess grinned. “Only way to meet a legend is to rob one first.”
---
They met again under moonlight.
A crumbling rooftop near the center of Draith Hollow, where desert winds hummed through the stone like distant whispers.
Kess dangled her legs off the ledge, one hand spinning a stolen Dominion coin between her fingers.
“You wanna recruit me,” she said. “That’s what this is, isn’t it?”
Ryker nodded. “I need someone who knows the underworld. Someone who can get us places most can’t.”
Kaen stood behind them, arms folded.
“You just want her because she has pretty eyes.”
Kess smirked. “Damn right he does.”
Ryker ignored both of them. “I’ve seen the Dominion’s real face. And I’m going to burn it down, piece by piece. I want you on my crew. Not just for your skills. But because you hate them, too.”
The coin in her hand stopped spinning.
Her voice dropped.
“They killed my brother,” she whispered. “He was just a smuggler. Didn’t bend the knee. They chained him to the Flame Pillars. I watched from a vent as he… screamed.”
Silence. Wind. Dust.
Then:
“I’m in,” she said. “But I’m not joining your revolution.”
Ryker’s eyes narrowed. “Then what are you joining?”
Kess stood, wind tousling her hair.
“I’m joining a chance to steal from every bastard who ever thought they owned this world.”
---
[ – In the Shadows of a Watchtower]
A tall man in black and gold robes watched through a spyglass, his lips twisted into a knowing sneer. Beside him, a Dominion priest adjusted his lenses.
“The Emberbrand now travels with the Chain... and the Ghost?”
The robed man nodded.
“Raise their bounties. Double the surveillance. And prepare the Blight Hounds. We’ll let them build their little rebellion...”
His fingers curled into a fist.
“...so we can crush it ourselves.”
