Choosen by Goddess Hela, I became the Silent Death.

"Today, we have gathered to discuss Candidate Ash's request to designate the Order of the Veil as his secondary affiliation," intoned the presiding officer, his voice echoing across the vaulted chamber.

In the heart of the High Command office, beneath banners bearing the sigils of the Four Orders, the assembled leaders sat in solemn judgment. The Head of the Order of the Light regarded Ash with a measured curiosity. Beside him, the masked Master of the Order of the Veil remained silent, studying Ash as though he were a puzzle to be unwrapped.

At the pedestal, Ash stood tall, though a flicker of uncertainty crossed his expression.

One of the senior adjudicators leaned forward."Candidate," he began, voice precise, "you have declared primary allegiance to the Order of the Light. We now ask that you explain why you wish to join the Order of the Veil as a secondary designation—particularly when your stated affinities are Wind and Light, elements that traditionally lie outside the Veil's domain."

Ash hesitated only a moment before answering, his tone calm and matter-of-fact."Your honours," he said evenly, "I hold affinities with all the elements."

A beat of stunned silence met his words.

Then, a ripple of murmurs swept through the chamber as several commanders exchanged sharp, searching looks.

Unaware—or perhaps unconcerned—that he had just marked himself as a curiosity…and a potential threat, Ash lifted his chin, ready to explain further.

"I was a Rivenhart until only a few days ago," Ash began, his voice steady though his heart beat faster under so many watchful eyes. "For most of my life, I was declared void of all magic—without talent for swordsmanship or spellwork."

He let the silence hang for a breath before continuing, his gaze sweeping the assembly.

"But that did not make me give up. I trained in secret and, over time, discovered the truth: I possess affinity with every element."

A murmur rippled through the chamber again, but Ash didn't falter.

"Though I can draw upon all of them," he went on, "my power inclines most strongly toward three: Light, Wind…and Darkness."

The Head of the Order of the Light inclined his head, his expression thoughtful.

"Very well, Ash. Your answer is accepted. You may train with the Order of the Veil—provided they choose to receive you. But know this: the Order of the Light welcomes you with open arms."

With that, the High Command rose, the assembly dispersing in quiet waves of murmured conversation.

Ash exhaled a slow breath, feeling the tension leave his shoulders. He made his way to the outer railing of the high office, the wind cool against his face as he looked out over Ironholt's battlements.

He didn't hear the footsteps behind him—only the soft flutter of a cloak. Instinct made him turn, hand already moving toward the hilt at his side.

A tall figure stood there, robed in layered black and silver, the stylized crescent moon of the Veil emblazoned on his mantle. The Head of the Order of the Veil regarded him with unreadable eyes behind a half-mask.

He stepped closer, voice low enough that only Ash could hear.

"We await you in the Sanctum of the Veil," he murmured. "Be sure you are certain of your choice…if you wish to join, of course."

Before Ash could answer, the figure vanished, leaving only the lingering chill of shadow in the air.

Sir Lance paced back and forth in the corridor outside the head office, his boots echoing sharply against the stone floor.

"I wonder if Lord Ash has been permitted to join the Order of the Veil as a secondary preference," he muttered to himself, rubbing a hand over his jaw.

He was so deep in thought that he didn't hear the soft footsteps approaching behind him.

"Sir Lance," came a calm voice at his shoulder, "who are you talking to?"

Sir Lance nearly jumped out of his armour. He spun around, eyes wide.

"L-Lord Ash!" he stammered, face flushing. "H-how— I mean—welcome back!"

Ash lifted an eyebrow, clearly amused.

Sir Lance laughed nervously, wiping a bead of sweat from his brow. How in all the heavens did he sneak up on me? he wondered. I can sense almost any presence, masked or cloaked. How did this boy manage to frighten me like that?

At the Inn

Ash lay on the bed, exhausted. His body ached, but it was his thoughts that wore him down—the Veil Master's words echoed in his mind like distant thunder. Just as his eyes began to close, a knock came at the door.

He groaned. Seriously? Now?

Dragging himself up, he opened the door.

"Emily?" he blinked, surprised. "What brings you here?"

She stood nervously in the doorway, fidgeting with the hem of her cloak.

"U-uh, Ash…" she stammered, cheeks flushed. "The Order… they've assigned you permanent quarters. It's an independent house—four rooms. It's close to the market… and just a few steps from the Knight's training grounds."

She barely looked at him, her eyes glued to the floor as if eye contact might kill her.

Ash noticed. Gods, he noticed.

There was something about her—so effortlessly beautiful, with the delicate grace of a porcelain doll. Ever since he'd first seen her, she had lingered in his mind. He wanted to talk to her, walk beside her, maybe even hold her hand someday.

"Maybe kiss her too…"

Ash blinked. Wait, what?

He glanced to the side.

Floating beside him in miniature form, arms crossed, was none other than Hela, whispering directly into his ear like the devil on his shoulder.

"Mmm… someone's got a crush," she teased, voice silk and sin. "So soft for someone who just reaped a soul."

Ash gave her a sideways glare. "Not now."

"Why not?" she smirked. "You've got a house now. Four rooms. Privacy. Opportunities..."

Ash coughed awkwardly, trying to focus on Emily again.

"Thanks for letting me know," he said, forcing a smile through the chaos in his head. "I'll check it out in the morning."

Emily nodded hastily, still blushing, then turned and hurried down the hall without another word.

Once the door shut, Ash stared at the ceiling.

Hela floated up to his shoulder, grinning. 

"Am I hopeless now, Goddess?" Ash asked with a tired sigh.

Hela, still hovering at shoulder-height in her miniature form, smirked.

"No, darling. You're just doomed. There's a difference." She twirled lazily in the air, then added, softer, "But don't stop yourself from loving someone. It's what keeps you human."

Ash nodded slowly, letting the weight of those words settle before asking, "So… I'm guessing there's a mission? Something important I need to do?"

Hela's eyes lit up with wicked amusement.

"Straight to business, Reaper. That sharp focus..." she purred, "It's exactly why I want you even more."

Ash rolled his eyes. "Flirting with the guy who does your dirty work. Classy."

Hela grinned wider, then her tone shifted—no longer playful, but grave.

"It's not a mission. It's an order." She hovered directly in front of him now, eyes glowing.

"Reveal your mark to the Order of the Veil. Once they see it, their loyalty will be absolute. They are my faithful—and you, Ash, bear the mark of my chosen."

"You'll need them," she continued, "for the purging of tainted souls. This isn't just revenge anymore. It's judgment."

Ash gave a slow, thoughtful nod.

"Right. Got it. One more thing—did Emily see you just now?"

Hela scoffed.

"Hells no, Reaper." She flipped upside down midair, then righted herself again.

"I can choose who sees me and who doesn't. Emily's sweet, but she's not ready to handle this level of divine hotness."

"Good. I'd rather not explain why a tiny goth goddess is floating in my room whispering about soul-purging and romance."

"Oh please," Hela winked. "That would make one hell of a love story."