Not the Hero, Not the Villain — Just the One Who Wins

The stillness of the Obsidian Forest was oppressive, suffocating even. As the sun began its descent behind the jagged, claw-like trees, casting the world in an eerie, blood-red twilight, my mind raced, a whirlwind of strategies, contingencies, and calculated risks. My shadow army—twenty strong—lay quietly in the dense undergrowth, each member a silent, patient instrument of death waiting to be unleashed at my command. The beasts I'd hunted, their souls now bound to my will, had provided the necessary strength to carry out the first phase of my plan, but it was not enough yet. One more beast remained, a final, crucial piece that would secure my dominance over this cursed forest. But for now, my attention was elsewhere.

I had given my faction the tools to succeed, a simple yet effective strategy designed to exploit their strengths and Rayne's arrogance: provoke, isolate, exhaust. They believed they were preparing for a defensive siege, a battle of attrition. They had no idea that the real war was already being fought, here in the shadows, by me. Rayne's faction would fall into my trap, and by the time they realized it, it would be too late.

But there was one thing that lingered in my mind, a gnawing, unwelcome complication—Cecilia Thorne. Her eyes, the color of a frozen sea, had burned with a desperate fury and something else—perhaps a longing for revenge, but also a deep-seated need for closure. It was a vulnerability I understood all too well.

I had made her a promise, one tied to the ghost of a mother from another lifetime, a story I had twisted into a tool to gain her trust. But promises were fragile things, easily broken in the pursuit of greater power. And yet, as I stood in the depths of the forest, my pulse steady and controlled, I couldn't shake the weight of the mana oath I had sworn. It was a chain, a bond I had willingly forged, and its consequences were yet to be seen.

The forest around me seemed to grow darker, the shadows pulling in closer, as if anticipating what was to come. Volkin, my silver-furred spectral wolf, paced restlessly nearby, his golden eyes glowing in the gloom, sensing the growing tension in the air. The bond between us was undeniable—two predators, bound by a shared understanding of the world's cruelty. We both knew what was at stake.

A rustling sound, a whisper of displaced leaves, cut through the quiet. My senses, honed by weeks of relentless training, sharpened. I turned slowly, my hand resting on the hilt of my shadow-forged blade, as a figure emerged from the gloom. The air seemed to crackle with the presence of an adversary, a rival, an unwilling ally. A smile, cold and calculating, tugged at my lips as the figure stepped forward, her ice-blue eyes glinting in the faint moonlight.

Cecilia Thorne.

The tension between us was palpable, a live wire charged with both animosity and something far more dangerous—a fragile, unspoken trust. I had delivered on my promise, offering her the truth about her mother's death, a truth I had gleaned from the fragmented memories of the original Ashen's life. And now, the moment had arrived to collect on her debt.

She didn't speak at first, but I could see the storm raging within her—the raw, desperate need for justice that had driven her this far. Her hand rested on the hilt of her rapier, the delicate grace of her posture betraying none of the fire that simmered beneath the surface.

"You took longer than expected," I said, breaking the silence, my voice cold yet laced with a faint, mocking amusement.

Cecilia's jaw tightened imperceptibly, but she kept her composure. "Rayne is cautious. He suspects betrayal."

"Smart of him," I replied, my eyes narrowing slightly as I studied her, cataloging every subtle shift in her posture, every flicker of emotion in her icy gaze. "And yet, here you are."

Her fingers twitched, not in fear, but in readiness, the muscles of her body coiling like a spring, waiting for the right moment to strike. I felt a flicker of admiration for her—she was every bit the warrior her lineage promised her to be.

"You promised me answers," Cecilia said, her voice laced with the bitterness of a decade of unanswered questions.

"I did," my voice softened for a moment, the façade slipping just slightly. "Your mother didn't die in battle. She was assassinated. And the blade that killed her?" I let the silence linger for a moment, watching as Cecilia's breath hitched, her carefully constructed composure beginning to crack. "I know who gave the order. But you have to cooperate."

Cecilia's hand was at her rapier before I could blink, but it stopped short, her resolve wavering. "Prove it."

I stepped closer, closing the gap between us, my voice dropping to a whisper that was for her alone. "I swear on my mana," I said, each word carrying the heavy, unbreakable weight of an ancient oath. "If I lie, let my power be stripped from me forever."

The forest itself seemed to recoil at the vow, the shadows beneath my feet stirring and writhing as if alive. Cecilia froze, her breath catching in her throat, the seriousness of the promise resonating in the air between us. A mana oath was not a light thing to swear—not even a monster like me would dare break it.

"I know who did it," I repeated, my gaze unflinching. "Now, tell me everything. Rayne's battle plans, his movements, his weaknesses. I need them all."

Cecilia's lips thinned, her eyes cold but calculating. "And if I refuse?"

My smile was slow and cruel, the kind of smile that promised nothing but pain and regret. "Then you'll never know who ordered your mother's death."

The silence that followed stretched longer than either of us wanted, a tense, suffocating stillness that was broken only by the sound of our own breathing. Then, with a deep, shuddering breath, Cecilia spoke.

"Rayne plans to strike at dawn. He's sending Seraphina and Rin to scout your fortress tonight. The rest of the faction will follow at first light."

I nodded, storing the information away, my mind already moving to the next step in the plan. "And Kali?"

"His failsafe," Cecilia replied, her voice clipped, her disgust palpable. "If the assault fails, she has orders to burn the forest down with everyone in it."

My smile faded, replaced by a look of cold calculation. Of course, Rayne would have a contingency. A scorched-earth policy. It only made the game more interesting. When the time came, I would deal with Kali. But for now, I had to play my part, keep my own faction in the dark, and continue to feed Rayne's sense of false confidence.

I stepped forward, close enough that my breath whispered against her ear. "When the time comes," I said softly, "you'll know what to do."

Cecilia didn't ask for clarification—she didn't need to. There was no mistaking the implication. She nodded once, her eyes burning with an intensity that promised retribution. Then, without another word, she disappeared into the forest, her figure swallowed by the darkness. Brought to you by the folks at MV|LEMPYR.

I stood in silence for a moment, the weight of our conversation settling heavily on my shoulders. The pieces were moving. My trap was set.

And soon, Rayne would walk right into it.

But not yet.

I turned away, my shadow army already moving to their designated spots, a silent, deadly net closing around the forest. The hunt had been successful, but there was still one more beast to catch—the final piece to complete my plan. It would be the strongest, the most dangerous, but I was ready. The forest would be my playground, and Rayne would be the prey.

With Volkin by my side, I knew it was only a matter of time before my strategy bore fruit. The shadows were growing stronger, the trap tightening around my enemies. Now, all that remained was blood—and the sweet, intoxicating taste of victory.

The war was on. And Ashen Crimson would be the one to rewrite the rules.