Ash clung to everything, a perpetual shroud over Veridia. Even the Cinder-Kin, hardy survivors, bore its grey kiss. Kael watched the quartet from the dust-choked periphery, their forms silhouetted against the bruised sky, stark against the unending plains of fallen dust. Torvin, the party leader, moved with a brutal grace. He was a force, a Cinder-Kin of the Martial path, his massive, ash-forged blade appearing an extension of his own grim will. Ash swirled around its edge, a dark echo of his power. Lysandra, her hair the color of glacial ice, held a chilling stillness. She’d momentarily quelled the scorching, abrasive ash underfoot with a delicate frost, a rare sight in this desolate world. Hers was the way of the frigid elemental. Jarek, Torvin’s second, carried a watchful intelligence in his eyes. He’d sent ripples of unseen force through the ground, a subtle, disorienting tremor that had crumbled the Ash-Ghoul’s advance. Vibration was his domain. Last came Gorok, a hulking mass of muscle. He’d delivered the killing blow to the monstrous Ash-Ghoul, crushing its chitinous head with bare, ash-stained hands. His ferocity was legend, whispered even in the farthest reaches of Aethelburg’s desolate outskirts. Torvin’s gaze, sharp as obsidian shards, cut through the settling dust. It pinned Kael, who stood alone, a solitary figure amidst the recent carnage. “How did you survive?” Torvin’s voice grated, rough as grinding stone. “Everyone else became ash-food. How did you walk away, unmarked?” Kael stammered, his throat dry. “I… I don’t know. When I woke, I was just… on the surface.” A lie. He’d been very aware. The ash had cradled him, drawn him up. Torvin’s eyes narrowed, suspicion hardening his features. “Did you Awaken, perhaps?” He flicked a hand at Lysandra. “Check his arm, Ice-Heart.” Lysandra moved, a whisper of cold air. Her slender fingers closed around Kael’s wrist, twisting it with surprising strength. A jolt of discomfort ran through him, but he held his breath, kept his face placid. She examined his skin, tracing invisible lines. Then, a shake of her head. “Nothing, Leader. Clean.” She presented his wrist to Torvin, a canvas of unblemished skin. Torvin grunted. “Just luck, then. Unbelievable.” Kael knew better. Cinder-Kin bore marks, the visible proof of their Awakening. Seven thin lines, like faded tribal tattoos, would appear on the wrist. Each line that glowed indicated rank: F-rank for the lowest, up to C-rank for four glowing lines. The color, too, was telling: blue for elementalists like Lysandra, crimson for martial adepts like Torvin, obsidian for those who bonded with the ancient mechanisms unearthed from the buried cities. Even the rare Irregulars, those with aberrant abilities, bore a Cinder-Mark. Torvin’s own wrist pulsed with a fierce crimson, four lines alight, declaring him a formidable C-rank martial Cinder-Kin. Lysandra’s mark shimmered with a pale cerulean, Jarek’s a flickering slate, Gorok’s a deep, smoldering crimson. All plain to see, proof of their power. Kael’s wrist, to their eyes, was bare. “Just a stray dog, lucky to crawl from the grave,” Gorok rumbled, his voice like rocks shifting. Jarek, ever practical, added, “Still, that’s more than mere fortune. Ash-Ghouls don’t leave survivors.” Torvin sighed, a cloud of dust exhaled. “No matter. We still need to reach the Cinder Veins. Toss him in the Crawler.” Lysandra let out a small, mirthless laugh. “A lucky man, indeed.” Kael swallowed the bitter taste in his mouth. They saw nothing. But he saw it. A faint glow, like embers deep within rock. The lowest line, F-rank, a dim pulse against his skin. Its color, though. Not crimson, not blue, not obsidian. It was a deep, muted orange, like sand catching the last, dying light of a crimson sunset. He had never heard of a Cinder-Mark like his. Stories of such an anomaly were unheard of, lost to the Ash-Loom weavers of old. His Awakening, his connection, was to the ash itself. In that moment of crushing terror, when the Ash-Ghoul had surged, the ash had answered. It had coiled, pushed, moved at his will. Not with great force, not yet. But it moved. The entire Ashen Expanse, a desolate ocean of fine particulate matter, became his unwitting stage. Kael had understood then. His ability was far from ordinary. Living in the forgotten settlements, among the desperate, had taught him one brutal truth: anything that deviated from the norm became an experiment, a sacrifice. If his power were known, he would be a specimen, not a survivor. ‘Dissected and forgotten,’ he thought, a shiver running down his spine. He was F-rank, a nobody in their hierarchy, but his power was a secret weapon, a terrifying gift. He needed to grow stronger, to understand this ash-link. Survival depended on it. Gorok’s shadow fell over him. “Hey, kid. Onto the cargo bed.” Kael nodded quickly. “No argument from me.” He clambered onto the rear of the Ash-Crawler, finding a cramped space among heavy crates and discarded equipment. The engine rumbled to life, powered by Cinder Shards, and the vehicle lurched forward, kicking up plumes of grey. Kael hunkered down, watching the desolate expanse bleed from dull grey to shades of violet and bruised orange as the sun dipped towards the horizon. Dusk in the Ashen Expanse was not a gentle transition. It was a deepening of menace, an invitation for the things that lurked beneath the dust. --- No matter the strength of a Cinder-Kin party, the Ash-Expanse at night was a death sentence. Torvin drove them hard, pushing the Ash-Crawler towards the Cinder Veins. They reached the massive rocky hill just as the last sliver of sun vanished. “The Cinder Veins,” Kael breathed, pushing himself up to gaze at the colossal structure. It rose from the ash plains like a petrified beast, its flanks pockmarked with dark entrances. A fortress wall, crude yet imposing, circled the main entry, designed to deter the hungry Ash-Ghouls. Cinder-Kin guards, their silhouettes stark, stood vigil atop the ramparts. A single gate, thick and reinforced, was the only passage inward. As Torvin’s Ash-Crawler approached, the gate groaned open. They slipped inside, the grinding of ancient mechanisms echoing in the twilight. Within the fortress walls, a makeshift city sprawled. A vital hub for the extraction of Cinder Shards, the place pulsed with a grim energy. Rough shacks huddled beside fortified buildings, Cinder-Kin and un-marked laborers moving like ghosts through the dusty lanes. It was a far cry from the majestic Citadels, but it was a refuge nonetheless. Torvin’s vehicle shuddered to a halt. A mine overseer, a burly Cinder-Kin with a grizzled beard, approached. Recognition flared in his eyes, twisting his mouth into a sneer. “The Ash-Butcher. Long time, Torvin. What brings your foul presence here?” His voice was laced with open contempt. Torvin merely snorted. “None of your damned business, Overseer. Keep your nose clean.” “I asked what brings you here.” The Overseer’s hands clenched into fists, his face reddening with indignation. Kael tensed, sensing the fragile peace. Gorok stepped forward, his immense bulk eclipsing the Overseer. “You want to test that?” he growled, a low, dangerous sound. The Overseer, though a Cinder-Kin himself, visibly recoiled, his fists loosening, shoulders slumping. Gorok was a force of nature, too powerful for a mere overseer to challenge. The Overseer stepped back, his glare unwavering. “Just don’t cause trouble while you’re here.” “The mines aren’t my concern,” Torvin said, a dark chuckle escaping him. “My quarry lies out there.” He gestured vaguely at the desolate expanse beyond the walls. “This is just a stop.” Then Torvin pointed at Kael. “Oh, and take him. The caravan heading here was hit by an Ash-Ghoul. He’s the sole survivor.” “The miner transport?” The Overseer’s brow furrowed deeper. “Ash-dammit. The manpower shortage is already a blight.” He squinted at Kael. Torvin shrugged. “By the time we got there, everyone else was gone. This one just… walked away.” Kael slid from the cargo bed. He gave Torvin a polite, if terse, nod. “My thanks for the rescue.” He made sure his expression was neutral, devoid of the simmering dread. He turned and followed the Overseer. Torvin’s sharp eyes tracked Kael’s retreating back, a flicker of something unreadable in their depths. “What’s bothering you, Leader?” Lysandra asked, her voice a low murmur. “He’s nothing. We checked.” “Something feels off, Ice-Heart. Everyone else devoured, but him? An Ash-Ghoul leaves nothing to chance.” “But no Cinder-Mark,” Lysandra mumbled, a sigh escaping her lips. She watched Kael disappear into the gloom of the settlement, a fleeting expression of frustration crossing her face. ‘If it weren’t for that Butcher’s watchful eye, I would have seen the truth of it.’ The Overseer led Kael through narrow, smoke-hazed alleys to a long, low barracks. He gestured to a large, empty room, devoid of any comfort or furniture. “Your lodging,” the Overseer announced, his voice flat. Kael glanced around the bare space. “It’s… spacious. How many share this room?” “Twenty. Or so.” The Overseer’s lips twitched. “Not all of them return each cycle, of course. Accidents happen, deep in the dust.” Kael’s stomach churned. Twenty men, packed into this barren space, reeking of sweat and ash. The thought was suffocating. His gaze drifted to the grime coating the walls, the dust motes dancing in the dim light. “Is the mining work truly that dangerous?” he asked, a tremor in his voice. The Overseer chuckled, a dry, humorless sound. “Why else do you think we take the likes of you? The un-marked. The desperate.” Kael’s hands clenched at his sides. He fought the urge to lash out, to show this man a sliver of the power he contained. But that would be madness. He needed to be invisible, to survive. “Keep your head down,” the Overseer warned, his tone suddenly cold. “Cause trouble, and I’ll have you cut into pieces, left outside for the hungry ones.” “Many monsters around here?” Kael asked, his voice low. “Abundant,” the Overseer confirmed, a grim satisfaction in his eyes. “If this rock wasn’t here, the whole place would be a paradise for them.” The words weren’t just a threat. They were a stark reality. Kael was truly alone, at the mercy of the mines, and the beasts that prowled Veridia. He had to learn, and fast. The ash was waiting.

Echoes in Ash