The Fool’s Ascension

Jarek's legs ached, his arms burned, and his lungs begged for rest. Yet, none of that compared to the feeling of being completely out of his depth.

Sylva, the assassin who had just tried to kill him five minutes ago, now stood before him with an eerie calm.

"You're worthy," she had said.

Jarek's instincts screamed bad sign.

Lena, still gripping her sword, didn't bother hiding her distrust. "Worthy of what?"

Sylva's piercing gaze locked onto Jarek. "Of the power you hold. And of the danger it brings."

Jarek swallowed. "Right. That's… vague."

Sylva gave a small, knowing smile. "It is. But so is your understanding of the Heart of Ruin."

Jarek tensed.

Every time he used that cursed artifact, something shifted inside him. It made him faster, stronger—but it also whispered things he didn't want to hear. Dark things.

Lena wasn't convinced. "Why should we trust you?"

Sylva tilted her head. "You shouldn't."

Jarek sighed. "Wow. That's reassuring."

Sylva's expression remained unreadable. "What I will say is this: your power will soon attract more than just my kind. Forces are already moving. And when they find you, it won't be for conversation."

Jarek ran a hand through his messy hair. "So, let me guess. You'll help us… for a price?"

Sylva smirked. "Of course."

Lena scowled. "Why am I not surprised?"

Jarek exhaled. "Alright. What's the deal?"

Sylva's expression turned serious. "We have a common enemy. One that sent another assassin after you last night. I need them eliminated. You need to stay alive. Our goals align—for now."

Jarek blinked. "You want us to kill an assassin?"

Sylva's smirk returned. "I want you to kill one of the best assassins in the world."

Jarek groaned, already regretting his life choices.

Lena folded her arms. "And if we refuse?"

Sylva's expression darkened. "Then you'll be dead within the week."

Silence filled the cavern.

Jarek exchanged a look with Lena.

Then, reluctantly, he grinned.

"Well," he muttered. "Guess we're hunting an assassin."