All Chapters of Where Ashes and Oaths Collide: Chapter 161 - Chapter 170

Mar looked down toward the cabin hatch, wondering if Amelia or Luz were listening. “Emile,” he said, his voice dropping to a low, urgent tone. “The hole. The red flowers. Do you know where they are? Do you know where they are going?” the ship groaned as it hit a patch of rough water. “No but Escuridade will find it. That is her journey,” Emile said calmly. “The… the knight below, uh… Luz, he will go to the mansion of nightmares to see the kind of shadows.” Emile bit her lip as she added. “Our path is different.” The deck went deathly silent. The wind seemed to die down, leaving only the rhythmic slap of waves against the hull. Mar felt a cold sweat break across his brow.“The mansion of nightmares,” Mar whispered, the words feeling heavy and wrong on his tongue. “The kid of shadows.” He looked down at his daughter, seeing her not as a sick girl, but as something far more dangerou

“That sounds amazing,” Estrela said with a light smile. “You are a lucky man.” The ship crested a large wave, sending a spray of seawater against the hull that sounded like gravel thrown against the wall. Luz let out a short, dry laugh– the first real sound of amusement to escape him in years. “Lucky?” he shook his head slow. “No. I am just a man who is tired of running.” He reached up and unbuckled the top clasp of his breastplate, the heavy metal clattering softly as he set it on the floor. The dark veins on his collarbone were more visible now, twisting like ivy in the dim light. He looked at Estrela, his crimson eyes steady. “But if we make it to Cidade dos Escravos… if we actually pull this off…” he paused, the weight of the plan settling between them. “Then maybe we all get that cabin. Maybe we all get to be lucky.”“Maybe…” Estrela trailed off and continued st

“Let him watch,” Estrela murmured to herself, turning her back on the shore. “Let him tell the world of the miracles he sees here.” But as the days turned into weeks, the miracles grew fewer and the cells grew more numerous. The camp was not a sprawling necropolis of wooden cages, filled with people who had been broken by the very thing they thought would save them. A counsellor from the city called Cidade dos Escravos, came to the island. He arrived on a ship built from warm honey brown pine timber; its sails shades of blue, framed by red. The ship was a large, three-masted sailing vessel with a broad, sturdy wooden hull which rose substantially above the water. Heavy wooden beams, railings, ladders, ropes, pulleys, and rigging cover the decks. Numerous ropes run from the masts to the bow and stern, creating an intricate web of lines across the ship. At the front of the ship a bow is projected dramatically forward into an ornate bowsprit

The air inside the tent smelled of old parchment, dried ink, and something faintly metallic– the scent of old blood and dried paint. On the left side of the tent is a large, heavy rough-hewn wooden table covered with papers, maps, books, rolled documents and writing materials. Several sheets have bene spread across the tabletop, including what appears to be a detailed map with lines and markings. There are also several leather-bound books stacked near the front edge, along with rolled parchment. A dark ceramic cup sits near the centre of the table. The table is paired with a sturdy wooden chair with a dark green piece of fabric has been casually draped over its back. Leaning against the wall near the table are several swords and pieces of equipment. Their dark blades and wooden handles contrast against the cream canvas of the tent. Additional wooden chests are stacked near the table, some closed and others apparently used for storing documents or supplies.

“You speak of Cidade dos Escravos’s strength, counsellor. Of its slaves and its alchemists. But tell me– does Cidade dos Escravos also know how to handle a woman who has outlived empires?” Estrela asked. “I can’t speak for the rest of Cidade dos Escravos,” Brian murmured pressing his lips to Estrela’s neck. “But I assure you I am more than capable,” he whispers against her skin. The sensation of his lips against her skin sent a jolt through Estrela’s body– a visceral, panicked shudder that Orgullo suppressed with the practiced ease of a tyrant. The girl’s heart hammered against her ribs, her breath hitching in a way that looked like arousal to any observer but was entirely terror. Estrela’s hands found Brain’s shoulders, her nails digging slightly into the fine wool of his coat. She pulled him closer, her movements fluid and commanding. “Capability is a rare commodity