Rebol is a festering wound on the edge of Somnia, its docks reeking of rotting fish and dried blood. Beneath the grey sky thick with smoke, rusted lamps flicker like demon eyes, illuminating muddy alleys.
Pazran Baterbane creeps toward the Light headquarters, an underground chamber hidden beneath an abandoned warehouse, its entrance concealed by stacks of barrels and seaweed. Drunken sailors' shouts and creaking ship timbers fill the night, but in Pazran's head, only his mother's screams echo—the night when the Holy Knights massacred his family in the Baterbane territory.
The accusation of "traitor" still burns, the Baterbane name now cursed in Rebol's markets. He grips his knife, knuckles white. *I want to live*, he thinks, the promise that saved him from the gutters of Ziballah.
Two weeks with Light, and Pazran still feels like a fugitive in a wolf's den. Tonight, Reus summons them to headquarters—a damp room with moss-covered stone walls and the sharp scent of salt. The mission: steal from Xuon Gultan, the nobleman who rules the Gultan territory, his castle looming on the hill like a hungry wolf.
Pazran doesn't fully trust Light—Reus is too slippery, Lilia too sharp—but if this mission brings him closer to the truth about his family's slander, he'll risk his life. Under the swaying lantern light, Lilia leans against the wall, her brown eyes appraising like a hawk's. Drexx stands beside her, a short sword tucked at his waist, his face warm like a brother's.
Pazran draws a breath, his voice steady despite the tightness in his chest. "Why do we need to steal from Gultan? What is Light after?"
Lilia snorts, stepping forward with a venomous sneer. "Stupid question, noble brat," she spits, her words like a whip. "You, who grew up in Baterbane's fancy halls, eating from golden plates—how would you know the suffering of common folk? We sweat because we have no choice. You wouldn't understand."
Pazran clenches his fists, flashbacks striking: the modest house in Baterbane, his father sharing bread with neighbors, then Holy Knight swords tearing everything apart. "I'm not a wealthy noble!" he shouts, his voice hoarse and wounded. "Baterbane was destroyed, branded as traitors! You don't know anything!"
Lilia smirks, unmoved. "Oh, really? The Baterbane name is elite, spoiled brat. Don't pretend to be poor. I won't accept you just like that." She turns away, her short hair swaying, leaving Pazran with his jaw clenched.
"Enough, Lilia," Drexx says, his voice gentle but firm, like a brother calming his sibling. He turns to Pazran, his eyes full of apology. "Don't listen to her. Lilia has trouble trusting newcomers." He smiles slightly, trying to comfort. "You look gloomy, Pazran. What's on your mind?"
Pazran looks down, his chest tight. How can he tell? About the blood in Baterbane? About the slander haunting him? He just shakes his head, lips sealed.
Drexx sighs, then explains, his voice low. "You ask why we steal? Look at Rebol. Alleys full of starving children, mothers selling themselves for food. Most of Light comes from places like that—Ziballah, the slum holes. Lilia and Reus, they're siblings, lost their family because of greedy nobles who only care about gold. Stealing from people like Xuon Gultan—that's the fastest way to help our brothers and friends. Maybe it's dirty, but that's life."
Pazran falls silent, his mind spinning. Greedy nobles? He remembers his father, who never oppressed anyone, but also the Holy Knights who burned Baterbane in the name of justice. "Are all nobles that bad?" he asks quietly.
Drexx shrugs. "Not all. But Gultan? You'll see for yourself." His eyes grow serious. "This mission will open your eyes."
Drexx changes the subject. "I know you can do healing magic and basic fire. What else can you do? This mission is dangerous."
Pazran shakes his head honestly. "Just that," he says flatly. He's indeed focused on healing and basic fire since Ziballah, enough to survive.
Drexx nods. "Okay. But a knife alone isn't enough. I'll teach you some sword basics, so you won't get caught. If you get caught, we're all in trouble." He smiles, drawing his short sword. "When the leader returns, ask him to teach you magic. Or Hana, she's skilled."
Lilia snorts from the corner. "Waste of time teaching that kid."
Drexx glares. "If he fails, we all lose. Shut up, Lilia." He turns to Pazran. "Come on, try holding this." He hands over the sword, teaching basic slashes and parries, his voice patient. "Lilia has speed and stealing skills," he says. "I'm just strong. You, Pazran, find your strength."
Pazran nods, thanking him quietly, though his mind remains in Baterbane.
The journey to Gultan territory takes a week, through wet forests and rocky roads. At night, Pazran practices sword with wood, his strikes echoing in the darkness, sweat soaking his face. He runs during breaks, strengthening his body weakened in Ziballah. Lilia watches with raised eyebrows, making no comment. Drexx nods proudly, like a brother watching his sibling struggle.
Gultan territory is a land groaning under a tyrant's heel. Its villages are ramshackle huts with leaking roofs, muddy roads full of holes, thin inhabitants bowing their heads under the gaze of armed guards. Gultan Castle towers on the hill, its white stone towers gleaming, iron gates carved with silver wolves challenging the grey sky.
The smell of rotting fish mixes with forge smoke, castle bells tolling like death sentences. Silver wolf banners of Gultan flutter at every corner, symbols of suffocating power. Tension hangs heavy—merchants whisper about crushing taxes, neighbors suspect each other, afraid of being reported. Gallows creak at roadside, swaying corpses serving as warnings.
Spying from behind a cart in the empty market, they watch Xuon Gultan making his rounds. His blood-red robes flutter, his face hard, eyes cold as ice. He rides a horse-drawn carriage, whip in hand, guards surrounding him.
Suddenly, a man—perhaps a merchant, walking with his lover—accidentally bumps into the carriage. Xuon leaps down, his face crimson with rage. "How dare you!" he roars, cursing viciously. Without mercy, he nods, and a guard's sword strikes, blood spurting, the man's body collapsing. His lover's scream tears the air, raw and broken.
Pazran clenches his fists, rage exploding in his chest. He almost cries out, but Drexx pulls him into the shadows, his grip strong. "Quiet, Pazran," he whispers firmly. "If we're caught now, everything's wasted."
Xuon laughs, then stares at the crying woman. Roughly, he grabs her arm, dragging her to the carriage. "You're coming with me," he says, his voice thick with lust. No one dares stop him—merchants bow their heads, guards smirk, people freeze. Pazran trembles, breath ragged, hand gripping his knife.
Drexx pulls him into an alley, urgent. Pazran turns, his voice growling. "Why did you stop me?! He's a monster!"
Drexx stares at him, unmoved. "I know you're angry. I am too. But if you attack now, the mission fails, we die. You see the true face of nobles like Gultan, right? This is why we steal from them."
Pazran stands rigid, chest heaving. He remembers his father, who was never cruel, but Xuon's face blends with the shadow of Holy Knights. Are all nobles like this? he thinks, doubt gnawing at him.
Lilia drops from a rooftop, landing like a cat, smirking slightly. "Didn't expect a noble brat could get angry for common folk," she says, half mocking, half impressed. "Maybe you're not completely trash."
Drexx sighs, diffusing the tension. "Both of you, focus." He looks at Pazran. "We split up now. Lilia, gather info at the market. Pazran and I head to the castle. The real mission begins." His voice drops. "You understand why Light only takes from people like him, right?"
Pazran nods slowly, his eyes fixed on Xuon's disappearing carriage. Anger burns, but understanding grows. Light aren't heroes, but they fight for the oppressed. Pazran, with his Baterbane wounds, will prove he's not the noble Lilia despises. He will live—and maybe find the truth.