TITLE:ASHES OF THE BLACKAN:

Episode 5:WHISPERS AND WARNINGS

Episode 5** of **"Ashes of the Blackan"**:

# Episode 5: **Whispers and Warnings**

The morning after the feast dawned grim and grey, clouds hanging low over the manor like a shroud.

Inside the House of Maevryn, tension coiled tighter with each passing hour. Servants whispered behind sleeves; nobles avoided each other's gazes; even the guards shifted nervously at their posts.

Everyone had seen the poisoned cup. Everyone knew something was coming.

But no one knew when — or from where.

Kalen Dravik stood at the edge of the manor's inner courtyard, shrouded in his black cloak, his sharp eyes scanning every movement.

He hated this feeling. This *waiting*.

He was a blade forged to strike, not to linger.

And yet...

His mind kept drifting to Mira.

The girl he should have left to die. The girl he had *saved*.

Why?

He didn’t know.

Or rather, he refused to admit it.

He found Mira later that day, sitting alone on a stone bench in the abandoned herb garden, picking at the torn sleeve of her rough tunic.

The bruises from the tournament still darkened her skin. Her hands — raw from work and battle — trembled slightly in her lap.

For a long moment, Kalen simply watched her.

Then he stepped forward.

Mira flinched at the sound of his boots crunching gravel, but didn’t run. She lifted her chin, defiant despite the fear flickering in her dark eyes.

"What do you want?" she asked, voice hoarse but steady.

Kalen said nothing.

He sat down beside her, leaving a respectful distance between them.

The silence stretched, thick and uncomfortable.

Finally, Mira spoke again, more softly.

"You didn't have to save me."

Kalen shrugged, staring out at the overgrown garden. "You would have died."

"I know," she whispered. A beat passed. "People like me always die."

Kalen turned his head slightly, studying her.

There was no self-pity in her voice. No plea for sympathy. Just a weary, brutal acceptance.

"You fought well," he said.

Mira blinked, clearly not expecting praise.

"You have strength," Kalen continued, his voice quiet, almost reluctant. "But strength without purpose is just... noise."

Mira's brow furrowed. "And what's *your* purpose?"

Kalen was silent for so long she thought he might not answer.

Then he said, low and bitter:

"I was raised to destroy."

The words tasted like ashes in his mouth.

Meanwhile, across the manor, **Vera Moonfall** laid her trap.

In a forgotten wing of the estate, hidden beneath false walls and secret staircases, she had prepared a *gift* for Kalen Dravik.

A puzzle tailored to his instincts. A threat he couldn’t ignore. A choice he couldn't walk away from.

She whispered enchantments over silver daggers dipped in a potion that blurred the mind, twisted the will. She summoned shadows that whispered doubts, stirred old memories, clawed at the mind’s weakest places.

And at the heart of it all, she placed *him* — a figure from Kalen’s past — bound, broken, and baited.

An old friend. An old ghost.

Someone Kalen had once sworn to protect — before the Blackan Order stole his soul.

Back in the garden, Mira hesitated before speaking again.

"You don't have to destroy everything," she said quietly. "You can choose."

Kalen laughed bitterly, a sound with no real humor.

"Choice is a luxury the weak believe they have."

Mira turned to him, fierce and trembling.

"You're wrong," she said. "Choice is the only power we really have."

For a moment, their eyes locked — a flash of something raw, something *true* sparking between them.

Kalen stood abruptly, his cloak swirling around him.

He couldn't afford this. Couldn’t afford feelings. Couldn’t afford *hope*.

Without another word, he disappeared into the manor’s shadows, leaving Mira alone in the dying garden.

But her words haunted him, chasing him down every darkened corridor.

That night, Kalen found the first clue to Vera’s trap: a scrap of bloodstained cloth tucked into his chambers. A sigil burned into it — a mark from his past. A memory he could not escape.

Vera watched from afar, smiling like a spider watching a fly edge closer to the web.

The pieces were moving. The storm was gathering. And Kalen Dravik was about to be tested in ways he could not imagine.

**[End of Episode 5]**