A thin young man with a haggard face stepped from the cargo hold of a heavily damaged ship into open air. Snow fell in thick, slow curtains, settling upon his shoulders, upon the chains crossing his wrists, and upon the back of his neck where a metal collar sat flush against bare skin. The cold of it burned, and Ash hissed through his teeth in kind.
'So... cold.'
Each chain link, from neck to ankle, clinked in weary sequence as one of the captain's men hauled him forward by the lead. The ramp was steep, and his legs had forgotten their purpose after weeks of disuse; Ash nearly went down on one knee against the metal grating before the chain corrected him with characteristic indifference.
Then, at last, his boots found snow-covered ground. Ash looked up.
The sky was white and low, the kind that held more snow behind it. Wind moved through in short, impatient bursts, driving flakes sideways across his face. Between the structures of the settlement ahead, it whistled at a pitch that was thin and unrelenting and entirely without comfort.
Ash turned his gaze and took stock.
The first thing he noted was a line of people, similarly chained, arranged ahead of him in the snow. But unlike Ash, who was gaunt-faced and visibly diminished, the others appeared entirely hale. Their clothing was layered and respectable for commoners. They stood straight. None of them wore the particular expression of someone who had not slept properly in weeks.
That distinction, however, was entirely deliberate. Ash had not eaten in days, and sleep had been eluding him with something approaching personal conviction.
All of that was behind him now. He was finally here. One of Apex's settlements. His objective could continue.
Ash shifted his gaze toward the front of the group.
Two factions stood facing one another in the snow, their breath rising in pale clouds. The tension between them was legible even at this distance. Their weapons were drawn, bodies angled forward and voices elevated well past any threshold of civility.
The leader of the first faction was a broad-shouldered man with a thick neck and a jagged scar that had divided his left eyebrow into two unequal halves. He wore a long charcoal duster over tactical gear. Knives hung from his belt with casual abundance. A pistol sat in its holster. The men behind him were rough-looking in the manner that ships like this one reliably produced.
The other faction's leader was a woman in her forties. Blonde hair drawn back with military precision. A crisp black tactical suit. She stood quite still, and the troopers at her back stood the same way, though unlike their leader, they wore matching black helmets that concealed their faces entirely.
Both groups had their weapons trained on each other.
The scarred man ground his teeth. Then his head turned, and when his eyes found Ash, something in his expression rearranged itself and with it came a smile that made Ash profoundly uncomfortable.
'Weird bastard.'
The scarred man turned sharply to the men behind him.
"Oi... lower your weapons, the lot of you. You think we'd last five seconds against Apex's finest? Put them down before someone does something irreversible. More irreversible than usual."
One of his crew edged forward.
"But Captain, they drew first—"
The captain regarded him with a flat expression.
"Did I ask? Did I put a question to you just now?"
The man closed his mouth. Slowly, one by one, the crew lowered their weapons.
The captain rolled his shoulders and turned back to the woman with a pleasant expression, as though the preceding thirty seconds had simply not occurred.
"Commander Joane. Lovely as ever. Any chance you might persuade your people to stand down as well? I'd rather conduct this conversation without someone putting a hole in me by accident."
Commander Joane held still for a moment. Then she glanced behind her and gave a small, economical nod. Her troopers lowered their rifles in unison.
The captain exhaled at length.
"There we go. This is precisely why I've always held you in some esteem. A reasonable woman."
He clasped his hands together.
"Now. All I required was repair money for my ship, a perfectly reasonable request, as I trust you'll agree. You won't meet my price, which is entirely your prerogative. Fine. I'll accept your rate for the captives. I am, at my core, a flexible man. But..."
He paused, his gaze already drifting sideways.
Commander Joane's eyes narrowed.
"But what, Matthew."
The captain did not answer. He simply looked at the man standing beside Ash and gave a small tilt of his head. The chain at Ash's neck jerked, and Ash was hauled forward into the open space between them.
He stood there rather awkwardly as snow accumulated on his head. Ash looked at one, then the other. Then he composed himself and knelt. His head dropped slightly forward and his black hair fell across his face.
The captain grinned. There was something in it that was not entirely steady.
"This one was never part of the arrangement. He was never intended for sale to Apex. But life is generous with its surprises, and I'm afraid he'll cost you a little extra."
Commander Joane frowned and studied Ash from above.
"Extra. For this."
She looked back up.
"Matthew, he looks as though he hasn't eaten in days. Give me one compelling reason to pay extra for that."
The captain grinned.
"Because he is not merely some unremarkable captive, Commander."
His grin widened.
"That, right there, is a very important person. There is a substantial reward attached to him, and I have it on excellent authority that the individuals occupying the upper echelons of Apex will be extremely interested in his arrival."
He let the pause settle.
Commander Joane crouched before Ash and tilted her head. Her eyes moved across his face with care and found nothing she recognised.
"He's just a boy."
She rose again.
"Even so, I don't know what I'm supposed to be seeing. What are you actually talking about?"
The captain gave a short laugh.
"You looked directly at his face and still don't recognise him. Well, can't be helped, I suppose. You've been buried out here in the snow for what, five years? Six? The world has moved along considerably in your absence."
"Out with it."
Matthew nodded and pointed down at Ash.
"This is Ashley Burns. Youngest of the Burns family. One of Flame's sons."
He paused to let that settle.
"And yes. That Flame."
Murmuring erupted immediately behind Commander Joane. She straightened sharply and replied in a controlled tone.
"Are you out of your mind? You expect me to stand here in the cold and accept that you, of all people, managed to capture one of Flame's sons?"
She glanced at Ash.
"Look at him. His hair is black. Every Burns I have ever encountered has had red hair. Every single one."
Matthew nodded slowly.
"As expected. You really have missed quite a lot."
Commander Joane frowned. Matthew smiled as though her frown were something he was privately savouring.
"Years ago there were reports of a young boy carrying three soul cores. I trust that even this far out you heard something of that. Well. That boy is this boy, who is kneeling in the snow before you at this very moment. The hair is black because it came from his mother's side. As for what he is, he is a tier five Ascended with a Hybrid soul core."
Commander Joane was genuinely surprised, but remained composed.
"And how, exactly, did you come to capture him?"
Matthew's smile softened into something almost fond.
"Ah. That part is actually a rather good story."
Commander Joane looked at him.
"Then tell it."
Matthew nodded.
"It was easy. Genuinely, embarrassingly easy."
She laughed, a short, sharp sound, entirely without warmth.
Matthew blinked. The laugh had caught him off guard. His eyes narrowed slightly.
Joane composed herself.
"Right. So you want me to believe you simply, easily captured a tier five Ascended carrying three soul cores. Matthew. Do you have any appreciation for what that means? That would make him one of the most formidable Ascended alive. And you, a tier 3.4 ascended, brought him in chains and breathing."
She gestured at Ash.
"And you want me to pay extra for him."
Matthew's grin had vanished.
"What exactly are you implying? That a boy like this could best me?"
He paused. Something shifted in his expression.
"Ah. I see the difficulty. I keep forgetting how much you've actually missed."
He waved a hand.
"The boy is tier five, yes. But he remains at the first stage of his soul and has been sitting there for some considerable time. Something is wrong with him, he cannot ascend to stage two. Marooned there, by all appearances, indefinitely. So what you are actually dealing with is a tier 5.1 ascended."
Matthew raised an eyebrow.
"Do you genuinely believe I would lose to a tier 5.1?"
Commander Joane said nothing.
The captain cleared his throat.
"You still don't believe me. Fine. You want to know exactly how we came to have Flame's son in our possession? Here is the truth and I give you my word this is the truth, we did not capture him. Not in any meaningful sense."
He paused.
"The boy simply walked onto one of my ships in the middle of the night. Unassisted. He descended to the cargo hold, located an empty cell, and locked himself inside it. Voluntarily."
Another pause.
"We didn't even know he was aboard for the first two days."
Silence held for a few seconds as Commander Joane stared at him.
"What."
"I know."
"He locked himself in?"
"That's what I said."
"On your ship."
"On my ship. Yes."
Matthew's voice had gone quieter.
"I have transported some genuinely appalling people in my time. Murderers. Warlords. Men who unsettled my crew simply by breathing in their general vicinity. And every last one of them behaved strangely around this boy and I noticed it, I simply hadn't understood why at the time. But here is what truly gave me pause."
He looked down at Ash.
"He sat in that cell for forty-three days. He ate almost nothing. He slept very little, by all appearances. He made no requests, offered no complaints, caused no disruption of any kind."
He paused.
"And he did not speak a single word. Not once. He simply sat there staring at the wall as though he were awaiting something that only he had been informed of."
Matthew looked back up.
"There is something genuinely wrong with that boy, Commander. I say this as someone with extensive and hard-won experience in the matter of troubled souls."
Commander Joane's hand moved slowly to her sidearm and came to rest there.
"Matthew. If this is some manner of game..."
She stopped. Her hand moved to her earpiece. Her expression shifted entirely.
"Sir."
A slight pause.
"His eyes, sir?"
A shorter pause.
"Understood."
She lowered her hand and turned to one of her troopers.
"Check his eyes. Now."
The trooper approached Ash with due caution. Commander Joane kept her gaze fixed on Matthew.
"I've just received word from above. If he is genuinely one of Flame's sons, it will be evident in his eyes, they should be crimson. The Burns bloodline marker."
She let that settle for a moment.
"And Matthew, I want to be entirely clear. If you are wasting our time, I have been authorised to execute you and your entire crew on the spot. Right here. In this snow."
The captain spread his arms wide, entirely unmoved.
"Joane. Honestly. Have I ever lied to you?"
Commander Joane did not answer. She fixed her gaze on Ash and the trooper. The trooper reached Ash, gripped his chin, and tilted his face up toward the flat, pale sky.
Ash permitted this without resistance as torchlight found his eyes.
The trooper's breath caught.
"...Crimson red, Commander. His eyes are crimson red."
The settlement went quiet. Even the wind relented for a moment, though the snow, indifferent to occasion, continued falling regardless.
Commander Joane closed her eyes. When they opened again, her posture had reorganised itself entirely. She spoke in a quiet, measured tone.
"Matthew."
A pause.
"I will be candid with you. I am genuinely surprised. This is the most significant thing you have ever brought in. Quite possibly the most significant thing anyone has ever brought in."
The captain smiled at that, the smile of a man who had been waiting a considerable while to hear precisely those words.
Commander Joane straightened.
"I've been authorised to pay triple our standard rate for all captives, plus a separate and substantial sum for the Burns boy."
She extended her hand.
"Do we have a deal?"
The captain stepped forward and took it without deliberation.
"Yes. That will do just fine."