Birmingham – Two Days After the Dockside Conflict
The rain fell heavy over the cobbled streets of Birmingham, turning them into glistening rivers of dark water that shimmered beneath the pale glow of the gas lamps. The city, as always, seemed alive, even as it exhaled its tired, foggy breath into the cold night air. Yet for James Shelby, the weight of the world had grown unbearably heavy in the last few days.
The victory at the docks hadn't settled into his bones the way it should have. There should have been satisfaction, a sense of triumph over their enemies. But all James could feel was the burning pull of Velakar's power coursing through him—like fire beneath his skin, smoldering and crackling.
The Peaky Blinders had crushed their enemies, but the real enemy was still out there—deep within him.
Inside the Garrison Pub – The Meeting
The Blinders gathered once more, their usual meeting at the Garrison pub now clouded with a deeper tension. They had made their move on the docks and secured their place in the city, but there were always more enemies lurking in the shadows. The question now was how they would deal with their next steps.
James stood by the bar, nursing a glass of whiskey. His knuckles were white as he gripped the glass, the warmth of the alcohol not quite enough to push back the cold pressure inside his chest—the weight of Velakar's influence.
Tommy, ever the strategist, was outlining their next move. The conversation swirled around him as he laid out plans to eliminate another rival gang that had begun encroaching on their territory.
But James wasn't listening. His eyes were glazed over, staring into the glass as the fire inside him whispered.
"You're more than this, James. You can be so much more." Velakar's voice, low and insistent, was like a constant hum in the back of his mind. "The Blinders are weak, and you—you—are a force that can reshape this world. Embrace it."
His heart raced as the words wound tighter around him. Every instinct in his body screamed for power, for control, for the destruction that came with Velakar's dark promise. The sensation was intoxicating.
"You know what you want," Velakar purred. "You know what it feels like to burn. To rule."
James's breath caught in his throat, his mind battling against the seductive call of the fire. His vision blurred as memories of the battle at the docks flashed before his eyes—moments where the violence had felt like an extension of his own rage. The thrill, the blood, the power—it had felt right.
"It was meant to be," Velakar whispered. "The world will burn, James, and you will rise from the ashes. All you need to do is say yes."
James shook his head violently, struggling to regain control. He couldn't let it take him—not yet.
But there was no escaping it
.
The Gathering – Tommy's Warning
Tommy's sharp eyes were fixed on James. He had noticed the subtle shift in his brother.
The man who had fought beside them at the docks, ruthless and precise, was not the same person who had walked in this door two days ago. The fire within James was different—something darker, something more dangerous.
"James," Tommy's voice was calm but filled with an edge of concern. "You've been quieter than usual. This isn't like you."
James looked up, meeting his brother's gaze. Tommy's eyes searched his face, studying him the way a hunter studies its prey. "Is there something you want to talk about?"
For a long moment, James said nothing. He wasn't sure how to explain what he felt. How to explain the pull of something ancient and terrible that had latched onto his soul. The desire to wield the power of Velakar, to dominate, to burn it all down.
He gripped the edge of the bar, his fists clenched tightly, his entire body tense. He needed to pull himself together—for them, for his family, for the Blinders.
But the fire was relentless. It wasn't going to go away.
"I'm fine," he finally said, his voice clipped, betraying none of the turmoil inside. "I'm with you, Tom. Whatever the next move is."
Tommy watched him for a moment longer, his instincts telling him something was off. But he didn't push. Not yet.
"Good," Tommy said. "We have a new enemy to deal with. A rival gang, fresh off the boat from Liverpool. They've set up shop near the edge of our territory. I need you with me. We'll burn them out."
James nodded, forcing himself to focus. This was his purpose now. This mission, this fight—it was the only thing that mattered. The Blinders were his family. He wouldn't let Velakar tear him away from them.
The Mission – A Precipice of Chaos
The plan was simple: take the rival gang's compound, send a message, and cripple their operation before it could grow. Tommy, Arthur, and James would lead the charge. Polly had arranged everything—guns, men, the perfect timing.
As they drove to the compound, James could feel the tension growing. His thoughts swirled. Focus, he told himself. He wasn't just fighting for the Blinders. He was fighting for control of his own destiny. He couldn't allow the flames inside him to consume everything.
The compound was a warehouse on the edge of the city, surrounded by rusted fences and low buildings. As they approached, the plan began to unfold—swift, efficient, with the precision that had become the Blinders' trademark.
Arthur led the charge, his booming voice echoing through the night, a war cry that rang with violence. Tommy followed closely, calculating every move, while James moved with them, his every step haunted by the fire threatening to overtake him.
The first wave was quick. The rival gang members didn't even have time to react as the Blinders stormed the compound, guns blazing. James moved with fluidity, cutting through the chaos with ease. The combat felt… natural.
But as the bodies piled up, and the shouts of pain and fear filled the air, the pull of Velakar grew louder. The heat inside him flared, the fire rising in his chest. He could feel it clawing at him, pushing him closer to the edge.
"Let go," Velakar urged him. "They don't matter. The Blinders are nothing. You are everything. You are the flame."
James staggered, the noise of the battle around him dulling as Velakar's presence wrapped around him like a vice. He wanted to give in. Just one step further, one small move, and he could burn it all down—become the power he had always dreamed of.
But then Tommy's voice cut through the fog in his mind.
"James! Focus!"
The world snapped back into clarity.
James inhaled sharply, the fire inside him searing his insides, but he resisted. He had to. For Tommy, for Arthur, for Polly.
He forced himself forward, cutting down another enemy gang member with a brutal, well-placed strike. His mind was clearer now, but the fire was always there, bubbling just beneath the surface, a reminder of what could happen if he let go.
The fight ended quickly. The compound was theirs.
Aftermath – The Struggle
As the Blinders gathered their spoils, James lingered at the back, his body tired but his mind racing. He had kept his focus throughout the fight, but the battle within him raged on. He wasn't sure how long he could keep it up. The fire was too strong.
Tommy caught his eye, his expression unreadable. "You did well," he said, his voice low but approving.
James nodded but said nothing. He couldn't allow himself to speak the truth. Not yet.
Back at the Garrison – The Weight of Power
As they returned to the Garrison, the victory felt cold to James. His brothers celebrated, the usual laughter and clinking of glasses filling the air, but it felt like a distant echo to him.
The fire inside him was still there. Still burning.
And as the night deepened, as the Blinders relaxed in their usual rhythm, James sat in silence, alone with his thoughts. He had won this battle, but the war within him was far from over.