VENGEFUL SPIRIT

The moon was high, a silver coin in the black velvet sky, when Asher slipped through the corridors of the estate. 

His target: Lord Devran Kael, the man who had orchestrated the slaughter of his family. Tonight, another name would be crossed off his list.

The estate was well-guarded, but Asher had spent the past week studying its patrol routes, its blind spots. 

The walls were high, lined with jagged shards of glass, but he scaled them with ease, his gloved hands gripping the rough stone. Dropping silently into the garden, he crouched behind a row of manicured hedges.

A guard passed just feet away. Asher watched him move, noting the sluggish gait, the boredom in his stance. A professional mistake. Asher slipped behind him, wrapped an arm around his throat, and pressed a dagger to the soft spot behind his ear.

"Make a sound, and you die now," he whispered. "Stay quiet, and I'll make it painless."

The man tensed but didn't struggle. Asher's blade found its mark, and he eased the body down into the grass. One down.

Moving like a shadow, he reached the main house. Inside, opulence dripped from every surface—gilded chandeliers, velvet drapes, marble floors polished until they gleamed. A stark contrast to the bloodstained memories that haunted Asher's mind.

He made his way through the halls, counting his steps, avoiding the squeaky floorboards he had identified days earlier. He knew exactly where Kael's bedroom was.

Two more guards stood at the double doors, their postures stiff, alert. These weren't common hirelings—they were professionals. Asher assessed them in an instant. One was tall, broad-shouldered, his stance betraying a background in military discipline. The other was lean, his sharp eyes darting, looking for movement. A tracker.

Asher exhaled. This wouldn't be easy.

He reached into his belt and pulled out a small vial, uncorking it just enough to let a single drop of the liquid inside drip onto his dagger. The poison would act fast.

Then, he moved.

A flick of his wrist sent a throwing knife spinning through the air, sinking deep into the tracker's throat. Before the second guard could react, Asher was on him. A slash to the tendons behind his knee brought him down, and Asher's poisoned blade kissed his skin. The man shuddered and went still.

The doors to Kael's chamber loomed before him.

Inside, the nobleman slept, sprawled across silk sheets, his face serene. Asher stepped forward, gripping his dagger so tightly his knuckles went white. He had imagined this moment a thousand times.

Kael stirred, his eyes fluttering open.

"You," he whispered, his voice thick with fear. "No… impossible."

"You don't remember me, do you?" Asher said softly. "But I remember you."

Kael scrambled back, his hands reaching for the dagger under his pillow. Asher was faster. His blade sliced across the man's palm, making him cry out.

"My father begged for our lives," Asher continued. "You laughed. My mother shielded me with her body. You set her on fire." His voice was calm, detached, but his heart pounded. "I was just a child. I was supposed to die that night too."

Kael's breath came in ragged gasps. "It… it wasn't personal. Business. Just business."

A bitter smile curled Asher's lips. "And so is this."

The dagger found its mark.

Kael choked on his own blood, eyes wide, hands grasping weakly at Asher's wrist. A moment later, he went still.

Asher exhaled. Another name crossed off his list. But the blood debt was not yet paid in full.

He had more work to do.

Let me know if you'd like any revisions or if you want the next chapter!