Senya entered the tavern the same way she'd done hundreds of times before, but never had it felt like this. She hadn't come here as a worker, nor as a customer, but as a woman consumed by the thirst for revenge. Cold hatred filled her soul, spiked with rage that needed an outlet, and was about to get one.

When Orm called out for her, she ignored him and instead marched through the taproom towards one of the tables in the back. Kwan was sitting there with two other sketchy-looking men Senya didn't recognize, all of them leaned forward in a whispered discussion.

"We need to talk," she said firmly, tearing through their quiet conversation like a knife.

Kwan, who hadn't seen her approach, looked at her in surprise. Then, his eyes filled with sadness, as he told the other two men to leave them.

"Senya, I'm so —" he began, but she cut him off.

"You knew what my sister was up to," she spat out, not feeling the need to hide her anger.

"I — what do you —" Kwan's confusion was palpable.

"Don't lie to me again. I've had enough of them."

Kwan gulped and stared at her with watery eyes, his lips twitching under his messy beard.

"I don't know what you mean." He offered her a seat, but Senya knocked over the chair and just glared at him.

"Lies!" she hissed like a snake.

People around them started to move away, but not without watching them closely, in case this argument turned into entertainment.

Kwan's eyes darted through the room, his torso hunched over as if that could protect him from unwanted attention.

"Please!" he whispered, his hands extended towards Senya, "I will tell you everything you want to know — but not here, not with all these people watching."

Senya glared at him, but eventually nodded.

"We can talk in the cellar," she rasped, making it clear that this was no offer.

Kwan looked relieved and hastily followed her past the bar and down the stairs, leaving behind a half-empty mug of ale. Orm was shouting behind them, but Senya paid him no attention.

Amidst stacked barrels full of ale and wine, Senya turned around to face the ragged-looking man she'd considered a friend for most of her life. His skin was pale, his hair short and stubby, and his nose red from alcohol, like it had been so many times before. Where she used to see a father figure, she now saw the pitiful image of a drunk.

"Are you alright?" Kwan asked with a concerned voice. His eyebrows formed a smooth arch over his gentle eyes.

Seyna scoffed. "I am not alright. How could I be?"

Kwan lowered his head.

"Look, I'm so sorry about Alva. I wish —"

"Pity is not going to bring her back," Senya snapped, ignoring the pained expression on Kwan's face.

"I … I know," he whispered. "But still. I want you to know I'm sorry."

"Why?" Senya sneered.

Kwan looked at her in confusion.

"What do you —"

"Are you sorry because you could've done something to prevent it?"

"What? No, I just —"

"Like, say, not enlist my sister for the resistance?"

Panic flared in Kwan's eyes like matches in the dark.

"Look," he pleaded, "I don't know what you've heard, but your sister and I … we …" He broke off when he saw Senya's expression harden.

"Go on," she said coldly. "Dish up another lie. We'll make it a full banquet."

Kwan's eyes raced through the room, like a mouse trying to escape a cat, looking for a way out.

"I thought they were after your sister because of that stolen tome."

A hollow smile tugged on Senya's lips.

"Now, how would you know about that? Let me guess, she mentioned that in your little chat the other day?"

Kwan gulped, sweat starting to form around his temples. Mechanically massaging his neck, he squirmed under her relentless gaze.

"She did, yes," he admitted flaccidly.

"Great topic for chit-chat, I reckon?"

Kwan sighed. "Alright, you got me. It was more than that. Your sister has been feeding information to the resistance for a while now. That was her last and probably most important contribution."

"So you are admitting that you are part of the resistance?"

Kwan looked around as if to check whether anyone was eavesdropping. He scanned the barrels and barren walls, then pricked his ears for a moment and gestured for her to stay quiet.

After a moment of silence, he finally spoke, his voice somber but with a hint of pride.

"I am, yes. Always have been, always will be."

He stared into her eyes, patiently waiting for her reaction.

Senya took her time, faking a moderate level of surprise.

"And you dragged Nyu down with you," she concluded, holding Kwan's gaze.

"No, I did not," he protested. "Your sister saw Malvorn's madness, and she made no secret of it. But she never actually joined the resistance, nor did she want to know about our plans. She was content with doing her part as a supporter from the sidelines."

"Her part in what?" Senya sneered.

"Taking our fate into our own hands."

"Your fate? Ironic. Is that your motto?"

Kwan studied her for a long moment.

"What happened to you?"

The innocent question stirred deep-founded anger in her.

"Oh, let's see," she said mockingly, "my sister abandoned me, my friend lied to me — that was you, by the way — and then my mother got stabbed in front of my eyes."

"Senya —"

"No, you're right. I should really chin-up."

Kwan sighed. "I'm sorry. That's not what I meant."

"What did you mean, then? Sorry, I'm getting confused with all the lies."

He bit his lip, his eyes soft and watery.

"It's just … I hate to see you like this. I hate how life has been treating you."

His concern was genuine, but Senya didn't care anymore.

"Yeah, well, here we are."

They fell silent for a moment. A rat squeaked under one of the nearby barrels, then scurried away with hasty steps.

"How did you even figure out that I was part of the resistance?" Kwan asked quietly.

It was a valid but predictable question. Senya didn't want to mention Malvorn, or anything of what he said to her, so she had to act convincingly — and her emotional outburst had laid the groundwork.

"Is that your only concern?" she shot back. "That I saw through your charade? Against common belief, I'm no fool."

"I've never taken you for one," Kwan muttered ruefully.

"Then stop treating me like one."

This story has been stolen from Royal Road. If you read it on Amazon, please report it

Senya could feel the resolve leave Kwan's body. He looked nothing like the wellspring of joy she was used to, just a sad man with droopy eyes framed by dark circles. In the faint light of the staircase behind them, he seemed older than he ever had.

After a moment, Kwan inclined his head and exhaled deeply.

"I'm sorry," he whispered, avoiding eye contact. "I'm sorry for everything. I never wanted things to turn out the way they have. You see … you and Nyu are like the daughters I never had."

A tear started rolling down his soft cheeks before dissolving in the thicket that was his dense beard. He sniffed, then rubbed his bulbous nose with his sleeve.

"When your dad died —" he began, but broke off. His voice was shaky, his snivels echoing through the dark room.

"I wanted to take care of you guys," Kwan muttered, "believe me that I tried. But life has a way of not going the way you want."

"What happened to seeing the good things in life?"

A pained expression took hold of Kwan's features.

"I see them right in front of me," he said quietly.

For a brief moment, Kwan's grief pierced the walls of anger she had constructed around her soul. But it wasn't enough. The part of her that wanted to give in was being shut out by the new Senya — the one that wanted to not feel helpless anymore, even if that meant leaving behind her old self and the people around her with it. But Kwan was the only one left. He was the only one who still cared about her, but he, too, had been dishonest. They all wanted to protect her, to shelter her from the cruel world out there — and in doing so, they only caused more damage.

"I want you to help me," Senya said firmly.

Kwan's watery eyes stared at her in surprise, his beard twitching like grass in the wind.

"I —" he stuttered, then gulped. "I will do whatever I can. Just tell me what it is I can help you with, and we'll find a way."

Senya inhaled deeply. This was it: the moment she would take a different path in life, one that she hadn't expected, but one that would allow her to finally stand up for herself.

"I want revenge," she hissed, "I want to kill Malvorn, like he killed my mother. I want to make him suffer. He needs to feel my pain, and I want to be the one who makes him feel it."

Kwan opened his mouth but didn't speak. Instead, Senya finished the implication.

"I want to join the resistance."

With his spirit worn down from their fight, Kwan barely even tried to talk her out of it. Or maybe, he just started to accept that she was just as stubborn as her sister, and had now reached a point in her life where she made her own decisions.

"You know you will most likely die fighting Malvorn?" Kwan asked eventually.

Senya shrugged. "We all have to die someday."

"You are way too young to say that," Kwan murmured, with the hint of a smile tugging at his lips.

Was that pride she saw in his eyes?

They fell silent for a long moment.

"When do I start?" Senya finally asked.

"Easy there," Kwan chuckled, brushing off the last of his tears from earlier. "It's not that simple. You have to be accepted first."

"Why? I doubt you have people fighting over spots in the resistance."

A bitter smile split Kwan's lips. "No, we don't," he growled. "But still, we can't just let anyone join us. It's too dangerous."

"I'm anyone?" Senya scoffed.

Kwan scratched his neck. "Of course not. But we have to know people are serious."

"My mother got killed by this bastard. I would argue that's a compelling cover letter."

They stared at each other until Kwan's soft eyes gave in.

"You're right, I'm sorry."

#

To say it was already dark when the last customers left the Inn was an understatement — it was always dark in Morathen, and people could just go to bed whenever they wanted. And yet, a certain collective rhythm of day and night had formed, unbound by nature's restraints. It had made their chaotic society more efficient, more productive than individuals doing as they please. And it had made the lives of shops and taverns easier, since they didn't have to be open around the clock anymore. Eventually, all workers would leave to get some sleep before their next shift.

Senya was standing in the glum darkness of a back alley behind Orm's Inn, leaning against a cold stone wall. Pensively massaging her knuckles, she was waiting for Kwan to meet her. The man had insisted on utmost secrecy — as such, he had left the tavern two hours before her, with the promise of picking her up when the streets were less busy. If he kept his word, he would take her to the resistance's hideout, where Senya should join their ranks and henceforth partake in their quest to usurp Malvorn.

A shadow moved in the dark, and Senya's well-adjusted eyes could make out the stern face of the usually so cheerful Kwan.

"Thought you might change your mind," he muttered from the depths of his high collar.

"You should know my stubbornness by now," Senya said and pushed herself off the wall.

With a nod of his head, he gestured for her to follow.

Not speaking a single word, they walked through the streets of Morathen, trying to avoid passers-by and their curious eyes as best they could. Senya had expected them to make their way to the outskirts of town, but instead they were walking right into the center of it, where Malvorn's guards patrolled the streets like clockwork. She concluded that the resistance was actually hiding in plain sight, near the source of power they defied. It made sense, she thought: on top of the logistical advantage, no one would expect them to be this brave, least of all the arrogant leader they were trying to take down.

In one of the well-lit alleys with colorful shopfronts along the sidewalk, they took the unassuming side entrance of a posh-looking store when no one was watching. Past the door was a steep staircase with narrow steps that spat them out in what looked like a dusty storage room, full of boxes and barrels, statues and covered canvases. Amidst them was a wooden hatch, no more than two feet wide, with a metal ring on one side.

Kwan purposefully stepped over and opened the hatch, trying to keep the joints from squeaking as much as possible. A faint glow radiated from below, drawing soft shadows on the ceiling.

"Here we are," Kwan said and chuckled nervously.

Senya raised an eyebrow.

"Don't worry," he added, "it's actually more pleasant than one might expect."

He gestured at the surrounding mess.

Kwan was the first to climb down the fragile ladder, with Senya close behind him. To her surprise, he'd been right — they emerged in a nicely furnished lobby with armchairs and sofas along the walls, and impressive oil paintings of people she didn't recognize. Warm light filled the room, making the red carpet glow and the intricately woven tapestry on the walls shine in all its colors. The beams that framed the whole room and covered the ceiling were dark and old, with a smooth finish to them, almost like they'd been treated with fire. They held rows of oil lamps in ornamental tin housings, that gently rocked with the breeze that came in through the open hatch, until Kwan closed it behind them.

There were people in the room, some sitting, some standing in small discussion groups. But all conversations ceased when they saw the newcomers, and more specifically, Senya.

"Evening," Kwan exclaimed, and a few of them murmured in response.

Their suspicious eyes tracked Senya carefully.

"Don't worry about them," Kwan whispered, and a comforting smile spread across his lips. "We'll just go directly to our leader now, Ayden. He's tough as nails, but kind — you'll see."

Halfway through the room, a tall man in luxurious silk robes cut them off. He was wearing his chin high, with as much dignity as he could muster, given his beaten-up face.

"Halt!" he growled, and extended a manicured palm. "Who is this stranger, Kwan?"

He glared at Senya, and suddenly his expression stiffened.

"You look awfully … familiar," he rasped, his eyes narrowing.

"Orinath!" Kwan exclaimed and put on a smile like a mask. "Good to see you. How have you been?"

His eyes rested on the purple bruises that covered the man's cheeks like lavender fields.

"I've been better," Orinath hissed, "and you can save us the pleasantries. I ask again: Who is that?" He pointed an accusing finger at Senya.

Kwan sighed. "That's Senya, our latest recruit. You might recognize her for the resemblance to her sister."

"Her sister?" Orinath barked. "Is that the lunatic of a thief you sent to rob me?"

Senya raised an eyebrow and glanced at Kwan in search of an explanation.

"I didn't send her, okay?" Kwan began. "And it wasn't a robbery per se."

"No?!" Orinath's voice turned into a shriek. "It most definitely felt like one."

"But it improved your standing with Malvorn, did it not?"

Orinath's expression soured.

"There are easier ways to achieve that!"

An amused smile formed deep within Kwan's bushy beard.

"Would it help if I told you purple's just your color?"

Orinath's throat turned bright red, like a boiling pot over an open fire. His station and etiquette seemed to be the only things keeping him from reverting to unsavory language.

"The audacity to bring her here, into my house," Orinath hissed between gritted teeth.

"Now, now," Kwan soothed, "Senya's not done anything wrong in her life. She is one of the most upstanding people you'll ever meet."

The tall man stared at her with a curled lip, then eventually scoffed and stalked away.

"Don't listen to him," Kwan whispered with a smile. "You know what they say about dogs that only bark."

He winked at her, his cheeks soft and rosy again.

They left the lobby room and walked down a narrow corridor with torches on the gray stone walls and a smooth green carpet lining the cold floor.

"Tell you what," Kwan murmured cheerfully, "once you are initiated, I will —" His words drowned in an ear-shattering explosion coming from behind them. Almost immediately after, a hot gust of air shot down the hallway and slammed into their petrified faces. A sulfurous smell followed soon after, sickening and dense like a cloud of poison.

"What —" he stammered, with panic in his voice.

He put one of his arms in front of Senya as if to shield her, but when his eyes met hers, the expression on his face changed. Panic gave way to shocking realization, followed by pure horror.

"You …" he gasped, his voice thin as string.

Seyna studied him with an emotionless expression. She had expected to waver when the time came, to feel remorse or regret, but her mind was numb like a candle without flame, devoid of any feelings.

She had done the unthinkable, betrayed her only friend in the most brutal way — and yet, she was fine. If anything worried her, it was the absence of emotions itself. Apart from that, things were out of her hands now. Whatever happened next would be on her, and she would be unable to stop it. But then again, she didn't feel compelled to stop it. She was not naive. She knew what Malvorn's soldiers would do to every single person in this lair, maybe even to her. Likewise, she knew Malvorn was a terrible person, but he understood the ways of this world, and he thrived in it. If nothing else, she could learn from him — learn to put herself first, and to survive. At least he had been honest about using her to get what he wanted, in exchange for an opportunity. She didn't exactly know what that opportunity would look like, but she was willing to take it regardless. After all, she didn't have much to lose anymore.

Screams and shouts echoed through the hallway, mixed with the clashing sound of metal on metal. Kwan's harrowed eyes jumped from Senya's cold face to the archway they came through and back. Muscles twitched under his beard, and deep wrinkles carved through his forehead like canyons, filled with dust that had been blown their way.

"Why?" he finally stammered, tears forming in his soft eyes.

The simple question was the only one that made sense, and yet Senya did not have a simple answer for him. Desperation and the urge for revenge had let her here, but Kwan and the resistance had just been a means to an end. Despite Kwan's lies about his involvement in the fight against Malvorn and his dealings with Nyu, she didn't want him to die. At the same time, now that his death was imminent, she didn't care about it either. All she wanted was to take her fortune into her own hands, to not be taken for a fool anymore. And to get revenge, at everyone and no one in particular — at the society that had pushed her to the edge and over.

"Power," she finally said.

Then, she stepped back as Malvorn's soldiers rushed into the hallway and charged at Kwan. He didn't even fight — he just stared at her with empty eyes, like something had broken inside of him.

Senya knew the feeling all too well.

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