As Caelia stepped off the small fishing boat, the salty sea breeze greeted her, carrying with it a familiar scent of decay. Ashenport loomed before her, a town wrapped in an eternal shroud of darkness and despair. The sun seemed to hide behind the thick layer of ash that hung in the air, casting a pale and blue light upon the desolate streets.

The worn cobblestone path stretched out before Caelia, echoing with the sound of her footsteps as she walked deeper into the heart of Ashenport. Broken-down buildings leaned dangerously, their walls covered in soot and filth, their windows cracked and broken. The town's atmosphere weighed heavy on her shoulders, as if the weight of the world itself had settled upon this forsaken place.

People passed by, their faces etched with weariness and abandonment. They moved with a certain heaviness, their steps lacking the spring of hope. Caelia's gaze swept across their faces, searching for any sign of life or flicker of spirit. But all she found were hollow eyes, lacking of joy or purpose.

The streets were lined with the remains of a forgotten past, the abandoned market stalls stood like forgotten sentinels with their twisted wooden frames. Tattered banners, once vibrant and proud, now hung in tatters, their colors faded and threadbare. The very essence of Ashenport seemed to be caught in a constant state of decay.

Ashenport, once her home, held memories that were far from pleasant. It was a place of hardship and struggle, an environment that shaped her into the person she had become today, The town's bleakness had left its mark in her very being, an unforgettable mark on her history.

Growing up in Ashenport, dreaming was a luxury she couldn't afford. The town's dreary ambiance, with its grey color scheme and lack of life, seemed to sap away any trace of hope. It was an existence that suffocated the spirit, leaving little room for dreams.

That's why she made the difficult decision to leave. She yearned for something beyond the gray shackles of Ashenport, seeking a life where dreams could be reached and possibilities explored. She needed to break free from the suffocating grip of the town that had shaped her, a place that held memories both bitter and harsh.

But now, as she returned to Ashenport, a mixture of emotions welled up inside her. It was a bittersweet homecoming, a part of her was tied to this place. She knew that her history was a part of Ashenports, and she couldn't deny the sense of belonging that she still felt within her.

But her return was not fueled by nostalgia or sentimental longing. There was a purpose that drove her back to this desolate place.

Whispers had reached her ears, rumours were circulating the underground, about a mysterious figure known as the Guardian. The tales spoke of a savior who protected those brave enough to venture into the treacherous wastelands that surrounded the town.

The ash, a constant presence in Ashenport, acted as a deterrent, keeping at bay the menacing creatures and dangers that lurked beyond. It was a harsh and unforgiving environment where only the strongest survived, and those who dared explore too far were rarely seen again. But now, amidst the tales, a glimmer of hope emerged, a belief that this Guardian had the power to challenge the wasteland's threats.

The rumours spoke of the Guardian's strength and ability to confront the dangers head-on. They painted a picture of a formidable protector, capable of facing the very horrors that had made Ashenport a forsaken place. It was a beacon of hope in a land shrouded in darkness and despair.

The knowledge of the Guardian's existence had not only reached the underground, but surely the ears of the Royal faction as well. This realization quickened her steps, igniting a sense of urgency within her. She couldn't bear the thought of Ashenport losing its only glimmer of hope, the one thing that kept the town from descending further into darkness.

If the Guardian possessed the power she believed he did, he would soon find himself caught in a web of conflict. Those who wielded great power were both respected and feared, sought after by those who desired their abilities for their own gain. Caelia understood that the Guardian's life hung in the balance, threatened by forces that wished to control or eliminate him.

Caelia pressed forward through the streets, her senses keenly aware of to the lonely atmosphere that clung to Ashenport. The air was heavy with the weight of despair, and every step seemed to echo with a haunting whisper. Each shadow felt like it had eyes, staring into her soul. She knew that in a place like this, the underbelly held the key to the hidden truths.

Following the twisting alleys, she navigated her way to the heart of Ashenport, where the Squeaks lurked. These shadowy informants were the rats of society, Moving around in the darkness to collect crumbs of secrets and sell them to the desperate and the curious.

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Caelia's footsteps echoed through the dimly lit alleyway as she made her way towards her destination. The narrow passage was painted in shadow staring back at her, the gloom matching the somber atmosphere of Ashenport. Ash swirled at her feet, a constant reminder of the town's bleakness.

Her eyes scanned the alley, searching for any sign of movement.  At last, she spotted a solitary figure huddled in the corner, cloaked in shadow.

The Squeak. Caelia approached cautiously, her senses on high alert. Trust was a luxury she couldn't afford, especially in a place like Ashenport. But for now, she needed the Squeak's knowledge.

As she drew nearer, the figure straightened up, revealing a thin frame and eyes that gleamed with a mix of cunning and desperation. It was a face she recognized, one that had been lurking in the shadows for as long as she could remember. Staying alive for that long was impressive, and proof of this Squeaks capabilities.

The figure, draped in tattered garments, turned its gaze towards her with a glint of cunning in its eyes. A smirk curled upon the Squeak's lips, revealing a mouth full of yellowed teeth.

"You're Caelia, aren't you? It has been a while" the Squeak muttered, his voice barely above a whisper. "What brings you to my little corner of Ashenport?"

Caelia nodded, her expression guarded. "I'm in need of information."

A crooked smile crept across the Squeak's face, revealing yellowed teeth. "Well, I know a thing or two, for the right price, of course. But I might give a discount to a previous colleague."

Caelia frowned, remembering something unpleasant for a moment, but she shook it off. She reached into her pocket and pulled out a small pouch, the clinking sound of coins filling the air. She held it out, her eyes never leaving the Squeak's face. "Tell me everything you know about the Guardian."

The Squeak's eyes widened at the sight of the coins, greed overcoming any doubt he may have had. He eagerly snatched the pouch from her hand, his fingers fumbling to open it. "The Guardian, huh? That's a dangerous game you're playing, miss. But lucky for you, I've got a few tidbits of information that might satisfy your curiosity."

Caelia leaned in closer, her voice low and intense. "I need to find him. I need to know who he is and what he's capable of. Can you help me or can you not?"

The Squeak's grin widened, revealing a glimmer of excitement. "Oh, I can help you, miss. But be warned, even I can see that things happen soon."

Caelia's closed her fist. "I'm well aware, Just tell me what you know."

The Squeak leaned in, his voice dropping to a whisper. "Head towards the old abandoned church on the eastern outskirts of town. That's where the Guardian is said to be hiding. But be careful, miss. He's not one to be trifled with."

Caelia nodded, her mind already calculating her next move. "Thank you, Squeak. You've been helpful."

As she turned to leave, the Squeak's voice trailed after her. "Remember, miss, the Guardian isn't the only danger lurking in Ashenport. Someone as pretty as you draws all kinds of attention. Things have changed since you left."

Caelia's steps quickened.

The houses blurred past as Caelia quickened her pace, a frown creasing her forehead. The words of the Squeak lingered in her mind and it left a bitter taste in her mouth. She had returned to Ashenport knowing that memories would resurface, but it was still disheartening to have them forcefully recalled by someone else.

Growing up in this town had shaped her, leaving both scars and a deep understanding of her own limits and strengths. She felt confident as she kept moving. She knew that few within Ashenport could match her in combat, as long as she remained vigilant and aware.

The church she was headed to held memories of her childhood. It used to be a place where leftovers were distributed, a lifeline for the struggling kids. But now, as she approached it, she couldn't help but wonder if its purpose had changed in the years she had been away.

More houses passed by, faces half-remembered from her past. Yet she paid them no attention, staying focused on her destination. Her hood concealed her features, blending her into the backdrop of the town. The long cloak she wore, sleeveless and flowing, provided ample concealment for any hidden weapons. It was a necessity, a lesson learned from countless encounters in the underground business.

Those experienced in such dealings knew better than to approach someone wearing loose-fitting attire. Caelia had been taught that lesson early on, as she thought back she subconsciously tightened her grip around the dagger that was strapped to her thigh.

As the church came into view, its towering presence a stark contrast against the bleak surroundings. It was the second highest building in Ashenport. Only the local Lord was allowed to build higher. Caelia cast a backward glance. Her gaze fixated on a cluster of closely huddled towers, a clear indication of the local lord's expanding influence since her departure.

It seemed that somebody had been living rather prosperous at least.

The church loomed larger as Caelia approached, its presence towering over the landscape. It stood just slightly outside the town, proof of the necessity of remaining close to the ever-present ash that enveloped Ashenport.

Silently, Caelia ascended the few steps that led to the once grand entrance of the church. The building stood as a solemn reminder of the town's past glory, now faded and worn by the passage of time. Its stone facade, once proud and majestic, now bore the scars of neglect and decay. Cracks marred the weathered walls and ash had found its way into every crack.

As Caelia approached, she noticed that the heavy wooden door was slightly ajar, hanging precariously on its hinges. The neglect of the church was evident in this small detail, as if the passage of time had loosened the grip that once held the door tightly shut. Through the gap, a sliver of dim light spilled out, casting eerie shadows on the worn stone floor inside.

Caelia reached out from the protective confines of her cloak and pushed the door open just enough to slip inside. The creak of the hinges echoed through the empty space, a haunting sound that seemed to reverberate through the stillness of the church.