### Chen Wei
Chen Wei woke up to darkness and the smell of old straw. The back room of the tavern was cold. His breath fogged in the air. He sat up on the mattress and stretched his arms.
Then he stopped.
His cuts were gone. The gash on his forehead from the forest. The scrapes on his knuckles from punching Gunter. The bruise on his ribs from who knows what. All of it gone. Clean skin. Like nothing ever happened.
He stared at his hands. The golden mark pulsed softly on his right palm. Warm. Alive.
"You healed me," he whispered.
The mark pulsed once, brighter this time. Almost like it was answering him.
He sat there for a long moment, just breathing. Then he stood up and walked to the small cracked mirror hanging on the wall. His face stared back. No cuts. No bruises. Just tired eyes and that strange gold glow reflecting off the glass.
He didn't understand any of this. The mark. The healing. The way his body moved on its own when Gunter swung that knife. None of it made sense.
But he was alive. And hungry again.
He walked out to the main room. Marta was already behind the bar, wiping glasses with that same dirty rag. She grunted when she saw him.
"You look better," she said.
"I feel better."
"Good. Tables need cleaning. Barrels need carrying. Work starts now."
Chen Wei nodded. He grabbed a bucket and a rag and got to work.
The morning passed slowly. He wiped tables. He swept the floor. He carried beer barrels from the cellar. His arms ached, but he didn't stop. The work kept his mind off the mark.
Around noon, the tavern started filling up. Farmers and traders and rough looking men. Chen Wei kept his head down and his hands busy.
That was when he saw her.
A girl walked through the door. Dark hair, dark eyes, maybe sixteen years old. A scar ran from her lip to her ear, white and raised, like someone had cut her a long time ago and the wound never healed right.
She didn't order anything. She didn't sit down. She just stood by the door and watched him.
Chen Wei felt her eyes on his back. He turned. She didn't look away. Just kept staring.
He walked over to her. "Can I help you?"
"You have a Dawn Fargement," she said.
Chen Wei's blood went cold. He pulled back. His hand covered his palm. "How do you know?"
"I can see it." Her voice was quiet, calm. "The glow. Most people can't see it, but I can. My father studied these marks before he died."
"Your father?"
"He was a scholar. He wrote books about the Fargements. The Dawn type. The Phoenix type. All fifty five of them." She paused. "Then the king killed him."
Chen Wei stared at her. "What king?"
"The dark king. Huang Zhen." She said the name like it tasted bad. "He rules Ashfall. He hunts anyone with a Fargement who isn't loyal to him. And right now, he is hunting you."
Chen Wei's heart pounded. "How do you know all this?"
"Because I have been watching you since you walked into this village. And I have been watching his scouts too. They are looking for a young man with a golden mark on his palm." She looked at his hand. "That is you."
Chen Wei wanted to run. His legs twitched. His hands shook. But something in her eyes made him stay. She wasn't lying. He could feel it.
"Why are you telling me this?" he asked.
"Because I can help you hide. I know the forests. I know the caves. I know places where his men will not find you." She stepped closer. "But you have to leave. Now. Right now."
Chen Wei looked at Marta behind the bar. She was watching them, her face unreadable. Then he looked at the girl's scar, the one that ran from her lip to her ear.
"What is your name?" he asked.
"Lin Yue."
He hesitated. His whole body screamed at him to stay. The tavern was warm. The work was steady. He had food and a place to sleep.
But the mark on his palm pulsed hot. Urgent. Warning him.
"Fine," he said. "Lead the way."
Lin Yue nodded. She turned and walked out the door. Chen Wei followed her into the forest.
---
### Huang Zhen
Ashfall was a kingdom built on bones and ash.
Huang Zhen sat on his throne, a black stone chair carved with images of fire and death. The walls of his throne room were dark, lit by torches that never went out. Shadows moved in the corners, but they were just shadows. No one dared come close without permission.
The woman from the tavern knelt before him. The scout who had called the insect a hero. Her face was pale. Her hands trembled. She had heard about the temple. About the dead farmer. About the blind scout crawling through the forest.
She knew why she was here.
Huang looked down at her. His voice was quiet, almost gentle. That made it worse.
"You called an insect a hero," he said. "Your bad information led to a dead prisoner and a blind scout. Two lives wasted because you could not keep your mouth shut."
The woman begged. Tears rolled down her cheeks. "I only reported what I saw, my king. The priests at the temple said he was a hero. I was just passing along their words."
"You were just passing along their words." Huang repeated the sentence slowly. Then he stood up from his throne.
He walked down the steps. His boots echoed on the stone floor. The woman pressed her forehead to the ground.
"Please," she whispered. "Mercy."
Huang knelt in front of her. He grabbed her jaw and forced her head up. Her eyes were wide, wet, terrified.
"I will show you mercy," he said. "You will live. But you will never speak again."
He raised one finger. A small flame danced on his fingertip. The woman tried to pull away, but his grip was iron.
He touched her tongue.
She screamed. The sound was wet and horrible. Blood filled her mouth. The flame burned through flesh, through muscle, through everything. When Huang pulled his hand back, the woman's tongue was a blackened stump.
She collapsed on the floor, choking on her own blood. He watched her for a moment. Then he turned and walked back to his throne.
"Now you will never call anyone a hero again," he said.
The woman crawled away. Blood dripped from her mouth, leaving a red trail on the black stone floor.
Left Hand stepped out from the shadows. His yellow eyes glowed in the torchlight. He bowed low.
"My king, the real insect was spotted near Millbrook. A tavern called The Rusty Nail. A girl was seen with him. She has scars on her face and arm."
Huang leaned back on his throne. "Lin Yue."
"You know her?"
"She is the daughter of a scholar I killed years ago. I burned her village. I marked her arm with hot oil. I thought she would die in a ditch somewhere." He smiled, cold and thin. "She is more stubborn than I expected."
Left Hand waited.
Huang closed his eyes. "Send Right Hand to Millbrook. Tell him to watch the insect. Do not kill him. Do not capture him. Just watch. I want to see what this Dawn mark does. I want to see how fast it heals. I want to see if it can be broken."
Left Hand bowed. "As you command."
He melted back into the shadows.
Huang sat alone on his throne. The torches flickered. The blood on the floor dried to a dark stain.
He looked up at the ceiling. Black stone. No stars. No sky. Just the weight of his kingdom pressing down on him.
"A mark that appears on nobodies," he said to the empty room. "Annoying."
He closed his eyes.
Somewhere out there, in the forests near Millbrook, a boy with a golden mark was running. A girl with scars was leading him deeper into the trees. They thought they were escaping. They thought they were safe.
Huang smiled.
"Run, little insect," he whispered. "I am not even hunting yet."