Southwatch loomed ahead like a slumbering beast—gray walls laced with battlements, towers etched against a smoky sky. But inside, the Crown no longer slept.
The ambush had cost the rebels time, men, and surprise. Yet Elira refused to retreat.
They camped in the ruins of an old vineyard, the rows of dead vines offering poor cover but enough distance to watch the city's movements. Fires burned atop Southwatch's towers now—beacons of alert. The gates were barred. The drawbridge raised.
> "They know we're here," Garran said, kneeling over a scouting map. "And they're not coming out."
> "Then we make them," Elira replied. "Stone walls don't protect a city if its people revolt from the inside."
Auren glanced at her, understanding her plan before she even said it.
> "You're thinking Embermoor again."
> "Not fire," she said. "Not this time. Just truth."
---
By nightfall, Elira moved with a small group of infiltrators—no more than a dozen—through the lower marshes near Southwatch's sewer inlet. The tunnels were old, mostly forgotten, but still intact. Jeren had mapped them before he betrayed them. They had to assume parts were false—but some sections proved accurate.
Sludge, rats, and filth soaked their boots as they crept in. But Elira didn't waver.
> "They'll expect another siege," she whispered. "They won't expect us to walk through their rot."
Hours later, they emerged into the cellar of a grain warehouse near the city's center. From there, the group split—disguised, cloaked, silent.
Elira walked the streets with hood drawn low. And what she saw confirmed her suspicions.
The people of Southwatch weren't loyal. They were afraid. Watchmen stood on every corner. Civilians hurried, eyes lowered. Wanted posters lined the walls—her face, Auren's, Garran's.
A child offered her a wilted flower and whispered:
> "The Flameborn's coming."
Elira smiled faintly.
> "She already has."
---
Meanwhile, back in the vineyard camp, Garran led the second force—keeping the pressure on the outer walls, hurling decoy flares, faking assault preparations.
Auren, however, had taken a separate path.
He'd gone to the eastern trade district alone, where an old contact awaited—a royal steward who once served his mother.
The man was gaunt, tired, his eyes darting to shadows.
> "You shouldn't be here, Prince Auren," he said. "They'll kill you."
> "Then tell me why they're moving troops from the capital," Auren demanded. "What does the Crown fear?"
The steward hesitated, then slipped him a scroll. A royal decree. A secret one.
> "They're not just defending Southwatch," he whispered. "They're preparing to abandon it. The Crown plans to torch the city if it falls—to send a message."
Auren's blood ran cold.
> "They'll burn their own people."
> "To keep power," the steward said. "They always have."
---
Back in the city square, Elira climbed a crumbling tower and lit a single signal flame. Within moments, other small lights flickered to life across the city—from windows, rooftops, doorways.
The people were ready.
Inside the walls, rebellion stirred once more.
But just as Elira turned to descend, a shadow stepped from behind the broken stair.
Jeren.
No disguise now—he wore the Crown's black armor, trimmed in red. His blade was drawn.
> "You should've died in that ambush," he said.
> "And yet," Elira replied, "here I stand."
They clashed in the stairwell, blades scraping stone, each strike laced with memory. Jeren was fast, brutal—but Elira had fought too long, bled too much, to fall now.
A final kick sent him tumbling through the broken railing, crashing into crates below.
She didn't check if he lived.
> "Let him crawl to his masters," she whispered. "And tell them we're already inside."
---
As dawn broke, the gates of Southwatch opened—not to let soldiers in, but to let fear out.
The people flooded the streets. Some guards dropped their weapons. Others fled. Fires burned, but not from destruction—from signal.
The city had turned.
From the highest tower, Elira raised the banner of the rebellion.
Auren arrived an hour later, the decree still clutched in his hand.
> "They were going to destroy this place," he said, breathless. "They still might."
> "Then we hold it," Elira replied. "With shield and fire. If they want to burn Southwatch, they'll have to come through us first."
She turned to the people below.
> "Today we didn't just take a city. We took a stand. And we will not kneel."