Madoc was a man who disliked surprises.
No, scratch that, he hated them.
He was not a spontaneous man. Neither the kind of person who could look at a situation and instantly know what to do. Quite the opposite, in fact.
It was the reason he liked to paint. It was just him, a canvas, and all the time in the world. No pressure, no danger. No one would die if he hesitated for a second. No one would get hurt if he did not know how to act. Sadly, it was just a dream. One that, with every passing day, seemed more and more distant.
His brother needed him. Bastion needed him. As did every single person under his watch. Besides, his hands had been painted red for far too long to put the blade down any more. And yet… little Nephis' words had…
No, this was not the time nor the place.
Madoc preferred preparation. He would happily spent years studying an enemy before drawing his sword. Anvil had once told him that, if permitted, he would research an opponent until the man died of old age.
"I wish," Madoc had answered, without shame.
Sadly, in the age of the Nightmare Spell, that was not an option, as their father had said many times. You did not have the benefit of time, nor of choosing your battles. When something happened, you reacted and then thought about what you could have done better if you survived.
For that reason, he had spent countless hours training. Drilling tactics, reactions, and a thousand other things deep into his bones so that they would come out instinctively. He had made plans in his mind for every single thing that could happen under the sun.
He did not have one for a situation like this.
Madoc had been there, watching over his brother when he returned from the third nightmare. He could still remember the overwhelming pressure that crashed onto his shoulders, the way the air itself seemed to turn to steel, sharp and deadly. Like a blade poised at his throat.
But this? It was far worse.
The pressure was heavier by a whole order of magnitude. And the way everything seemed to have darkened? Like a shadow had covered the sun? It gave him goosebumps.
A man appeared between the two sides. One who could not be confused for anything but a Saint.
He did not know what to do, how to react, or what to even think. And so, he defaulted to what he knew, to what he had trained himself to do when surprised.
There was a Saint before him, Sunless, if he remembered correctly. Her niece had forced him to read his file, along with that of every single person who could be expected to be present within Changing Star's manor. He had even watched the movie about the Forgotten Shores. Though he wouldn't admit to having liked it. If Sunless' relation to little Nephis was anything like how it was portrayed in it, the side the newly born Saint would pick was obvious.
So he lunged at the young man who had done something that was thought impossible. Idly, he noted that while still short, he was nowhere near as small as he had been portrayed in the movie.
"Has the way to greet people changed while I was away?" Sunless asked, his voice perfectly flat.
It was at odds with his madly beating heart. He had put everything into that lunge, all of his speed, all of his strength. A good fight was one in which his opponent was dead before they knew they were in one, in his opinion.
And yet, despite not looking at him, the young man had reacted instantly. His hand had shot out and caught his blade with petrifying ease. Even more terrifying, what should have resulted in the hand being cut had only delivered a thin red line to the pristine skin of the man before him. He had not even drawn a drop of blood.
Pools of darkness turned to stare at him, and he felt as if he were looking at death's visage. "I asked a question."
Madoc let go of his blade and went invisible, stepping back to reassess the situation. Except that, instead of air, his back collided with a towering wall of shadows.
Black chains erupted from it and pounced at him. Rattled as he was, he was not one to be caught so easily. He danced between them with a grace that he had only achieved through years of experience and pitting his life in endless battles.
Another sword finished taking shape in his hand, and he returned to the offensive, cutting down the chains that were still chasing him. The wall fell in another slash, and he finally returned to the safety of his compatriots.
Sunless had not pursued. In fact, it did not even seem like he was staring at him anymore. There was an expression of concentration on his face as he stared at a black tendril dancing in his palm. "It is similar, but not quite like in the dreams," he heard him whisper.
He was distracted for a second longer, but then he shook his head and turned his eyes back to him. His eyes drifted to the other knights beside him, studying them before returning to stare at him once more. It almost looked like a hunter counting the number of carcasses he would bring home.
"You know, I am extremely vexed right now," he said in a casual tone, like he was commenting on the weather. "I have just arrived in the Waking World after what? Three years? I am hungry, cold, and more tired than you can quantify." His voice did not rise, it did not even change tone. It made it worse. "I was not expecting much. Some warm food. Staring at the sun for a while. A nice bed to sleep in for a few weeks." The shadows at his feet bubbled angrily. "What do I get instead? I wake up in an unknown place, right beneath an ongoing battle. Some idiots are attacking my friends. And then, one of them proceeds to attack me too."
Sunless took a deep breath and the shadows seemed to calm down. Maybe it was her imagination, but the head of the Serpent in Sunless' tattoo had just turned to stare at him.
"Sorry, did I say vexed?" He tilted his head, the pools of darkness he had for eyes growing ever more sinister. "I meant to say furious."
-------------------------------------------
Morgan was having a bad day.
Though it would be more accurate to say that she had been having one for a long, long time already. Ever since the day in which Father had ordered her to bring an end to Changing Star's ambitions.
She had accepted it like any other order he gave. He willed, and she obeyed. That was the whole basis of their relation, as far as she could tell. In the eyes of her father, she might as well have been another of his blades.
It had been like that since she was born, and she did not think it would change any time soon.
She could remember in vivid detail the day she had realized it. She was no older than five and had just returned from the day's lesson with other legacy children. One of them, when her parents arrived to retrieve her, made a little sprint and jumped straight into their arms. Something inside her stirred at the way the parents caught their daughter and then laughed, their expressions so soft and loving it awakened a craving she did not know she had until she saw it.
Later, accompanied by Uncle Madoc, she had gone to visit Father, who had just returned from battling the Nightmare Creatures creeping on their territory. Spurred on by the image she had seen earlier in the day, she broke into a run of her own and jumped at him with open arms, hoping that maybe his cold expression would melt, that he would smile, laugh just as those parents had done. Hoping that for once he would treat her as his daughter.
Father stepped aside as if she were a plague.
She faceplanted on the ground, scratching herself quite badly as well. Uncle Madoc was by her side instantly, fussing over the minor injuries and the state of her clothes.
Father? The cold stare he sent her was enough to give her goosebumps to this very day. In those cold, steely eyes, she saw herself reflected. Not as the child she was, but as a blade that was not worth the materials it was forged from.
She had cried that day, and Father's disappointment only seemed to increase.
Ever since that moment, she had tried her best. Trained until her hands bled, until every muscle burned, until she could barely stand. Studied until her mind refused to take in any more information. Learned about economics, politics, warfare, culture, and any other topic she thought could be of use.
To this day, she had yet to see anything but cold apathy in his eyes. Would this time be different? Would killing Changing Star finally satisfy him, or would he find another reason to be disappointed in her?
She did not know. What she did know was the well of resentment building up inside her.
And still, she did as ordered. She was Morgan of Valor, the heiress of a grand clan. Perfection was not merely expected from her. It was demanded.
So she faced the challenge as she did with any other that was put before her. With unrelenting conviction and a refusal to even contemplate failure.
From that day on, her life had become a long, arduous, and mind-numbingly boring sequence of research and planning.
She had poured over every report that Valor held on Changing Star. Battle style, Aspect, theories about her flaw, preference in weapons. She had watched every single recording that existed of her fights and seared them into memory. Then she dove further into habits, likes, dislikes. She even knew her foot size.
Morgan had gone so far as to watch that aberration of a movie about the Forgotten Shores over a dozen times just to be sure she was not missing anything. At this point, she could recite every line by heart. The damn thing had started showing up in her nightmares.
Then, when she gathered as much about Changing Star as she reasonably could, she moved on to do the same about every single member of her Cohort and the Firekeepers. No one was spared, from the strongest of her followers to the weakest and most inconsequential.
After that, it became a matter of finding the right place and the right time.
When their agent in the Government found out about the Gate opening right in Changing Star's backyard, she felt like the dead Gods were smiling at her for once. She considered it carefully, and then went ahead with the idea.
It was simply too perfect a chance to pass. Besides, she did not think she could wait much longer. Father was yet to say anything, but she could sense his growing impatience in the way his will would linger at the edges of her conscience. Like a silent pressure that could turn crushing at any time if she continued failing to provide results.
Morgan made the proper preparations. Ensured that no one but her clan would arrive to aid. Carefully built a perimeter around the area so that no one could get in or get out. Drilled everything she had learned into the heads of every single one of the knights who would participate in the battle.
They would battle the Gate along with Changing Star's forces, all the while ensuring to cull her followers wherever they could, and once the guardian was dealt with, they would immediately strike.
It was perfect. The heiress of the Immortal Flame would be drained by the battle. Her followers dwindled in numbers. The ever present call of the Gate would make it almost impossible to escape safely into the Dream World. Aside from her Knights and Uncle Madoc and Jest, she had dozens of Echos prepared to fight, many of whom were of the Transcendent rank.
It was as simple as it was perfect.
All of that perfect planning was ruined by a single sentence.
"Are you going to kill us now, or when the Gate is dealt with?"
After that, everything became a blur. She feigned confidence she did not feel, engaged in battle under suboptimal conditions, and, most annoyingly of all, failed to cut down the Seer who had ruined it all.
And then, as if the dead Gods had not mocked her enough, a Saint of all things showed up.
Sunless. A man who, as early as two weeks ago -buying that information from Changing Star's medical staff had been incredibly expensive- was still just a Sleeper, had just returned. Just in the nick of time at that.
If this were a novel, she would have called bullshit. Sadly, it was real life, and she had to deal with it.
For some reason, he was nude too.
...did Raised by Wolves and Changing Star just lick their lips?
She cast the thought out of her mind. There were more important matters at hand. She had to come up with a way to deal with the situation.
And yet, because the Gods had not laughed enough at her misfortune, Madoc, cautious, reserved Uncle Madoc, lunged at the newly born Saint before she could come up with a plan.
A pity, she thought. A Sleeper capable of defeating the third nightmare would make for a great recruit if they could smooth things out, as unlikely as that was.
Then again, he also posed too much of a danger to allow to live, so she could not blame her uncle too much.
Except that, instead of being cut down, Sunless defended himself with insulting ease and even made her uncle retreat. It made no sense. How could he have such a good handle on his enhanced physique already?
It had taken her days to get used to her new strength when she became a Master. And that was a jump from an Awakened to an Ascended. The madman had jumped straight from a Sleeper to a Transcendent. She would call it a miracle if he could walk properly.
Except that he was doing it, and as if that were not enough, he also seemed proficient with the new abilities granted by his Aspect.
Morgan was tempted to pinch herself, if only to make sure she was not having a nightmare. She did. Still here.
"I meant to say furious," she heard him say.
A shower of sparks covered Sunless as Memories took shape.
First, a silvery ring took place in his right hand. Ascended.
An armor next, dark and foreboding, made of what looked like onyx. Transcendent. How the Spell did a Sleeper kill a Transcendent being!?
Sunless extended his arm, and the shadows answered, an Odachi materializing in his hand. It was of the Transcendent rank too.
A crown. It was little more than a band of metal, painted in red and covered in rust, engraved with runes she could not recognize from this distance. It was of the Transcendent rank too. She could feel wrath bubbling up in her chest at the mere sight of the Memory.
On his back, a cape took shape, looking as if it were made of pure darkness. It was of the... of the supreme rank.
...a Sleeper had killed a Great one.
They were dead.
He had not attacked, had not taken a step forward, had not even moved yet, but she was certain of it.
They were dead.
Could the situation get any worse?
The Gods answered her immediately. In the distance, the Gate pulsed, and a wave of Corrupted beasts started pouring out.
Yes, yes it could.
-------------------------------------------
Effie was a simple woman.
A good meal, some exercise, the company of friends, and kicking Nightmare Creature butt were the only things she needed to be happy.
The day had started well enough. Her burger was great. Teasing Princess and Rainy was always a pleasure. And while the prospect of fighting against a Gate and the Valor clan at the same time was daunting, she was eager for it.
She was a little less eager to get her butt kicked by the creepy old man with the worst sense of humor she had ever seen, but life could not be solely good. The fight had been going well enough, in her opinion. And by well, she meant that they had not died in the first minute. Though poor Gorn did not seem to share her optimism. Getting your arms ripped does that to a man, she guessed.
Then an incredible weight landed on her shoulders, and the world dimmed. What followed was an entrance so dramatic she was sure Doofus had been practicing it. She barked a laugh, though everyone seemed too shocked to notice.
Eh, who cared if he was a Saint now? He was still a midget.
A very tasty-looking one. Damn, Princess was lucky. If they were not friends, she might have given it a try herself.
Ah well, such was life. It did not stop her from taking out her communicator and snapping a few photos. She was never letting Doofus live this down. Besides, Princess would surely thank her later.
What followed was a short but shocking skirmish between the invisible guy and Doofus. One that the latter handled rather easily. Impressive. The speech he gave was great too. Ten out of ten on the 'you fucked around and are about to find out' scale. Or at least it was in her humble opinion.
The Valor Princess seemed to agree, judging by the way her face had paled and looked like she had aged a century in seconds. She took a photo too.
Then the Gate pulsed, expelling Corrupted Beasts, and the lull that had fallen over both sides was broken. The last thing she saw before turning away and running toward the incoming wave was Doofus engaging the invisible guy and the creepy old guy.
What followed was a struggle oddly reminiscent of the raid against the Crimson Spire. The creatures fell upon her like a living tide, Awakened and Fallen creatures alike pouncing madly on her, spurred on by their bigger and uglier cousins that were not far behind. She killed dozes of them, and yet, dozens more always seemed to be there to replace them.
Effie's spear found the neck of an avian Fallen Beast, and the thing died on the spot. She let go of her shield for a moment and snapped up her fist to crush the windpipe of a Valor Master who thought she was not watching. Feeling the attention of another abomination on her, she retrieved her shield and turned around just in time.
She bashed her shield against the flank of a Corrupted Beast before it could pounce on her. Except that where most creatures would have been sent flying, the massive vulture-like thing had barely been pushed back before diving at her again, its beak opening grotesquely to reveal rows of serrated teeth. Vultures did not even have teeth! Honestly, these Nightmare Creatures cheated.
The tip of her spear met the charge and halted its advance for a moment. Sadly, the Ascended memory did nothing but scratch the damn thing before it resumed charging. She rolled away just in time, but the damn thing still managed to swipe at her with one of its wings.
She allowed herself a moment to check the gash left on her armor and determined that if it had not been a Transcendent Memory, she would be dead. Her heart pounded at the thought, and she dived right back in. A dance of steel and feathers unfolded, one in which she found herself on the losing side.
The creature was strong, extremely fast, and most annoying of all, far too durable to be killed with her current weapon.
"If only I had a Transcendent weapon," she muttered under her breath as she stepped aside from another wing swipe.
"Here."
"Thank you," she said automatically, letting go of her spear while taking hold of the offered pitch black one. It looked like a perfect replica. Its balance and weight were perfect. More importantly, it was of the Transcendent rank.
She blinked and stared to her right, where Doofus was looking at her with open amusement. When had he...?
Effie looked farther and saw him still battling Invisiguy and the old man, except that there were two of them now. She looked back and there was also one by her side. She took a look around and spotted him in more places.
One was up in the air, right beside Kai, dropping dark javelins on Nightmare Creatures and Valor knights while protecting the handsome archer.
Three were right before the gate, cutting down every creature that came before they could even gather their bearings.
Finally, there was one more guarding the battered Firekeepers from danger. Cassie was there too, directing those who were still capable of fighting and organizing the retreat of those who could not. She did not miss the fact that Doofus refused to stare at the Seer.
Effie shrugged, impressed despite herself but unwilling to let it show, and turned back to the Corrupted Beast. It had been bound by black chains, but the moment she returned her attention to it, they dissipated.
"Can you cover me?" she asked, winking at him.
Sunny snorted. "I can do better, but sure. Have fun."
Effie laughed and dashed forward, the spear finding purchase in the neck of the Beast where her previous one could barely scratch it. This was shaping up to be a great day.
Eight bodies...
Princess had all the luck.
-------------------------------------------
Kai's day had started like any other. He had woken up, taken a shower, brushed his teeth, done some light exercise followed by his skin care routine and a healthy breakfast. It was a known quantity, safe and comforting. He had done it countless times and he would do it countless more.
There was no fear to be had in the quiet of a routine that had been ingrained in his bones. No uncertainty. And best of all, no stakes.
All of that quiet comfort and reassurance disappeared the moment he left his home and drove to Lady Nephis' manor. His blood already ran cold at the idea of facing a category three Gate, but with the addition of an attack by Clan Valor on top of that, he felt like he was shaking so strongly he would vibrate out of his clothes. It had happened in one of his nightmares.
Could they not run away? There was still time. Except that no, they could not. Lady Nephis would not abandon her home, and neither would the others abandon her. He would not either.
So he swallowed his fear, the ever present sense of inadequacy, and smiled as confidently as he could.
The battle had unfolded as he expected. They were woefully unprepared to face such a challenge. Two Saints were too much. Even one would have been an extreme danger. The only reason they were even alive was because Saint Jest did not take them seriously.
And then, he arrived and all of his fears and uncertainty vanished.
Sunny was back.
Sunny was back.
Tears had almost started falling from Kai's eyes, but he managed to wipe them away before they could. He had foolishly thought that Sunny had merely challenged a second Nightmare, but of course his friend would not be content with just that. No, he had gone ahead and challenged a third one.
A challenge that he was not even sure any of the cohort, aside from Lady Nephis, could overcome, defeated just like that by a Sleeper.
Honestly? He was not even that surprised. Kai was both eager and terrified of the tales his friend would have to tell after all of this was done.
Then the Gate pulsed, releasing countless Nightmare Creatures, and he banished those thoughts for later. The future was the future, but the present was here, and he still had to survive this.
Kai ducked beneath a hammer strike and unleashed an arrow against the flank of the Awakened woman. She would survive.
He took to the air and unleashed a barrage of arrows, nailing every single target. The Nightmare Creatures would die, while the humans would have a chance to survive if they received medical treatment. He could only hope that the Valor forces would do the wise thing and retreat, now that it was clear the tide had turned against them.
A soft breeze was all the warning he got before the strike arrived. It was enough. He dodged to the right, just in time to avoid an overly long tongue that seemed made of fire. It belonged to what looked like an unholy union between a sparrow and a toad. The tongue lashed out once more, and he dodged back, an arrow being nocked and shot before it had time to retract.
The arrow landed on the tip, and while the creature shuddered in pain, the damage was not even close to what he had hoped for. If only he had stronger arrows, maybe a stronger bow too. His kit was not fit for dealing with what looked like a Corrupted Devil.
A hand patted his back softly and he almost leapt out of his skin, completely frightened. He turned around and saw Sunny's smiling face. It was such an overwhelmingly honest and confident smile that he was almost blinded. Then he blinked in confusion, quite sure that they were hundreds of meters above the ground. He checked, and yes, they were.
"You good?" Sunny asked him casually, the shadowy wings on his back beating lazily.
He swallowed the lump that had formed in his throat and fought back the urge to embrace the smiling man with all his strength. This was neither the place nor the time, no matter how much he wished it were.
From the corner of his eye, he spotted the Spoad rearing for another attack and flinched, ready to dodge at any moment. A colossal spear of darkness erupted out of the ground far below and impaled the creature before it could act.
It died so fast that Kai felt whiplash.
"Here." Sunny offered him a quiver filled with dark arrows as well as a black bow, all of them of the Transcendent rank.
Kai felt deja vu hit him, suddenly brought back to a memory he had thought lost. They had just escaped the catacombs of the Dark City, and Sunny had performed another of his impossible feats. Right after, he had offered him an arrow Memory with the same ease he was showing now.
He swallowed the lump in his throat once more and stared him right in the eye.
"Will we win?" he asked.
Sunny stared at him for a moment and then smiled confidently. "Yes."
It was not a lie.
His lips arched into a smile that reflected Sunny's own. Suddenly, he had the certainty that they would win, that no matter what happened, they would live to see another day.
Arrow after arrow was unleashed on the world below, each one landing with unerring precision. It did not matter how many he used. More always seemed to be there, replenishing faster than he could loose them. Beside him, Sunny was not idle either, barraging the ground with a rain of javelins that was far more lethal than his own onslaught.
Kai laughed without even realizing it.
Everything was right in the world.
-------------------------------------------
Aiko was not paid enough to deal with this.
When Kai retired from singing, she had found herself at a complete loss. Being an Awakened did not offer many career paths outside of murdering abominations, and she preferred to remain among the living, thank you very much. So when a job offer arrived from Changing Star's right hand, she had practically kissed the envelope.
It had sounded simple.
Act as Nephis' agent. Manage public appearances. Organize events. Handle merchandise. Coordinate a thousand tiny details that, on paper, involved absolutely no life threatening danger whatsoever.
Simple, right?
Except Nephis' idea of a PR stunt was crashing the opening of a Gate and handling it almost single handedly. Or personally hunting down some corrupted horror that had been terrorizing other Awakened. Or any of a thousand other mildly suicidal activities she treated as casual networking opportunities.
At this rate, her hair would go white before she turned thirty. An actor in a slasher movie had better job security than she did.
The worst part? She could not even blame her boss for this particular disaster.
It had looked like the perfect publicity spectacle. Changing Star and the Valor clan, united against the tides of darkness. The headlines practically wrote themselves. So Aiko had ignored the vague warning suggesting she might not want to come to work that day.
Nowhere in that warning had it mentioned that the Valor clan might attack them too.
What in the world had Nephis done to offend them this badly? Was Aiko about to lose another job? More importantly, was she about to lose her life!?
All she could do now was cower inside the manor and pray that whoever emerged victorious between her boss, the Valor clan, or the Nightmare Creatures, would not feel like killing her too. On the bright side, the livestream numbers were phenomenal.
Well. If she was going to die, at least she would die trending.
Then a Saint arrived out of nowhere. A very naked Saint.
The viewer count practically doubled.
Aiko did not even blink. The boss was crazy. Of course her boyfriend was too.
The good news? It looked like she might survive the day.
The bad news? She might not survive her boss finding out that, thanks to Aiko's impeccable event management, the entire world had just seen her boyfriend in all his divine, unclothed glory.
Forget thirty. Her hair was going white right now!
-------------------------------------------
What the hell is wrong with this kid!? was the thought running through his mind.
Jest dropped low, elegant shoes skidding across broken asphalt as the odachi whispered over his head. Whispered was a euphemism. The damn thing howled, a slab of blackened steel carving through the air. One of his goat like horns clattered away in a neat spiral, so cleanly cut he did not even have time to feel pain before it was gone.
"I always thought I would look better with an asymmetrical aesthetic," he joked.
The kid did not answer. Rude.
The odachi came again, a black blur that held none of the flourishes that people the age of the crazy kid usually employed. It was just a clean, brutal descent meant to halve him.
Jest snapped his cane up with both hands. Wood met steel with a crack that ran up his arms and into his teeth. The cane groaned in his hands, threatening to come undone under the relentless assault. For a heartbeat they were evenly matched, but the superior strength of his transformation allowed him to kick the kid back.
He stumbled but regained his balance too fast for Jest to attack.
The kid did not pursue immediately, choosing instead to stare at him with those dark, creepy eyes of his. Then the world shifted.
Shadows writhed, coming out of the rubble and cracked cement, stretching long and thin before rising like dark monoliths. They hardened mid motion, flattening into blades, splitting into barbed chains that lashed for Jest's limbs. He spun, cane whirling in a tight circle, batting them aside.
"Now, now," he called, forcing a grin he did not feel. "We can talk about this. Perhaps a stern letter? A mildly worded complaint?"
How was the kid doing this? How was he learning so fast? The gaps between his mistakes were closing so fast it was dizzying. It was like the crazy kid had years of experience as a Saint.
"No and no."
The kid had finally deigned to speak to him!
Now, if only he could crack a joke back so that he could stop feeling like he was sorely out of his depth, he would appreciate it.
No such thing happened. It seemed like he was in a really dark mood.
Get it?
He would have laughed at his own joke if he had not been forced to desperately step back to avoid a spear that had erupted out of the ground.
He reached for the kid's emotions again. He could feel his rage, the bone deep exhaustion, hope, fear, and so many other things. Normally it was child's play to pluck at those threads, to tug and weave until men tore themselves apart or fell sobbing at his feet.
But this boy… this boy was crazy! The emotions were there. Oh, they were there. Too many of them. They flickered and collided, spiking from cold calculation to incandescent fury and back again so fast they burned his senses. It was like trying to catch lightning in a bottle.
He grasped at the anger. It slipped. He lunged for hesitation. It shattered. He pleaded with confusion. He was the one who ended up confused.
A chain of shadow whipped around his ankle and yanked. He toppled, barely twisting in time to avoid being skewered as the odachi speared down where his chest had been. The blade punched into cement as if it were cloth.
The kid was already moving before Jest could recover his bearings. He stepped into a shadow that had not been there a second ago and vanished.
Jest's stomach dropped. He rolled on instinct, cane snapping up behind him just as steel screamed against wood. The impact numbed his hands. A second strike followed from his left, though the boy stood to his right. Another shadow split open, and another version of that merciless blade emerged.
"You're cheating," Jest gasped, scrambling upright.
The boy's face remained infuriatingly calm, eyes like pits where starlight went to die. Around him, shadows blossomed into form. Spears, hooks, grasping hands.
Some detached and shot across the field, snaring the Firekeepers he had been influencing to attack him. Chains coiled around them with surgical precision, binding without crushing, dragging them back to where Elegy of the End waited, directing her forces with terrifying precision.
How could he control them all? The chains keeping his thralls bound, those clones of himself all over the battlefield, the endless weapons he seemed to conjure out of nothing and direct like a maestro leading an orchestra. Jest could not even begin to fathom the prodigious mind required for such a task. Each construct was crisp and deliberate. There was no flicker of strain, no tremor. Hell, he did not even know how the kid had enough essence to do all this.
Jest could not even disengage or retreat to regroup with the others. He found himself unable to.
The moment he went more than ten meters away from the kid, a sudden, crushing wrath would fall over him, destroying all signs of rationality. The only way he had found to deal with it was to go back and fight the kid, which, as the last few minutes had proven, was not the easiest of things.
It was the crown the kid was wearing. He was sure of that. Destroying it had been his objective for a while now. Pity the creepy kid was far too strong to get close enough to do that. Not doing it was not an option either.
Do or die. Either he died or the kid did.
"Well," he panted as another shadow blade split the air near his ribs, "I suppose I have always struggled with commitment."
The joke fell flat, even to his own ears.
He ducked under a sweeping arc and drove his cane toward the boy's knee. He hit, but it was only a grazing blow, one from which the kid recovered so fast that Jest barely had time to block the next strike. The kid dived into the shadows once more. A flicker from the corner of his eye made him turn and lash out, only to find nothing. The real one stepped out from a shadow cast by Jest's own cane and slammed a boot into his back.
He hit the ground hard enough to see stars, his transformation coming undone. Before he could breathe, shadows pinned his wrists so tightly he could already feel them going numb from the cut of blood flow. He saw the kid's face right above his own, staring at him with calm focus.
Up close, the boy looked young. So damn young. His own had been just a little younger before he died.
Jest tried one last time. He grasped at the exhaustion he could feel from the kid and increased it as much as he could. For the briefest instant, he felt it. A flicker. His shoulders sagged, his eyes drooped, the overbearing wrath emitted by the crown grew faint and then disappeared completely. His attempt had landed, if only for a second. Then the second was gone, and the kid lifted his odachi into the air.
Jest laughed, feeling death's cold hands grasp at his heart.
"Here we were," he said lightly, though his pulse thundered in his ears. "Ready to put an end to the Immortal Flame clan, and yet it is us who are going to end instead."
If the kid cared about his words, he did not show it.
"There's a joke in this," he murmured, staring at the blade poised above him. "There has to be."
Pity he was still trying to find it.
Jest closed his eyes, woefully unprepared to meet whatever hell awaited him in the afterlife.
The wind whispered, something extremely sharp passing right by his arms and legs, and before he knew it he had been lifted and dragged away by a strong arm.
He opened his eyes in disbelief to see Madoc's bloodied face. Whispering Blade was not in much better shape than he was. In fact, he was worse. Wounds covered him from head to toe, and Jest belatedly realized that he was missing an arm.
Behind them, he spotted the kid, the crown already starting to emit waves of wrath once more, ready to pursue along with the clone that had been battling Madoc. But before he could, there was another wave of pressure coming from the Gate, and an even bigger wave of Corrupted poured out. The kid stared at them for one terrifying moment longer before refocusing his attention on the Gate, joining the other clones in battling the waves of Nightmare Creatures.
"Still alive," Jest whispered, then laughed uproariously. He shuddered right after at the agonizing pain that wracked his body. "Remind me not to accept the invitation to the wedding."
Madoc, still running away and straight toward little Morgan, snorted. "You too."
-------------------------------------------
Morgan's day kept getting worse.
She rolled away from the incoming flaming sword. It passed so close to her face that the heat blistered her skin, the air itself screaming as it split. The smell of burning flesh followed her as she hit the ground. Another arc of blinding white light carved toward her. She barely managed to parry this one; the impact rattled through her arms and down her spine. Before she could recover, a kick crashed into her armored stomach and tore the air from her lungs.
Morgan hit the ground hard. The world shrank to pain and ringing ears. She forced herself up just in time to block another slash from Changing Star. The woman was monstrous. Flames that destroyed. Flames that healed. Flames that enhanced her body into something faster and stronger, something that rivaled Morgan's own monstrous physique.
The Spell must have been drunk the day it granted her Aspect.
Steel shrieked against fire. Another strike. Morgan stepped aside and countered, her blade biting into Changing Star's ear. A clean cut. For a heartbeat, triumph flared. The flesh regrew before the severed piece even touched the ground, and the triumph was gone.
Morgan heard the silver haired woman murmur something under her breath, and the flames answered. They surged forward in a tidal wave of white fire, one she had no hope of avoiding.
There was no avoiding it, no blocking, no surviving. She realized this in a fraction of a second.
She was going to die.
As she stared at her own demise, time slowed.
Morgan saw her life pass before her eyes in cruel, perfect clarity.
A childhood spent chasing expectations she never fully understood. Every lesson mastered. Every trial conquered. Every bruise hidden. She had succeeded again and again. And still it had never been enough. Not with the way her father looked at her. Not with that cool, distant appraisal in his eyes, as if measuring the sharpness of a blade.
She had not been a daughter. She had been a weapon.
Mordret's face surfaced next. She had expected to see him here, smiling that infuriating smile, orchestrating her ruin beside Changing Star. If what Elegy of the End had told her was true, he was already dead, killed by the woman about to end Morgan's life.
She might have thanked her, if she were not about to die by the same hand.
More memories rose. Endless training. Endless battles. Endless pressure.
And beneath it all… nothing.
There was no warmth. No joy. No moment she could cling to and say that she had been truly happy.
Morgan searched desperately, as if rummaging through the wreckage of her life for something worth keeping.
She found nothing.
Rage ignited, hotter than the flames rushing toward her.
Not at Changing Star. Well, maybe a little.
At Anvil of Valor. A man who had forged her into a blade and never once cared whether the steel cracked in the process. Who had sharpened her on impossible expectations and withheld even the smallest kindness.
Then the rage twisted inward. He had treated her like a tool, that was true. But she had allowed it.
She had lived for his approval. Bled for it. Broken for it.
And now she would die for it.
The white inferno swallowed her vision, and in that final suspended second, clarity came.
Morgan wanted to live.
The realization struck harder than any blow. She wanted to live. Not as Anvil's blade, not as her clan's shield, not as a weapon honed for someone else's war.
She wanted to live for herself.
To choose what she wanted to do with her own life.
The ache of that realization was worse than any wound she had ever received.
It was too late.
She had wasted her life pursuing something she would never reach, and only now, at the edge of annihilation, did she understand that she had never truly lived.
A broken laugh almost escaped her. Of all the times to realize that.
The flames closed in. The heat pressed against her skin, searing and suffocating.
Morgan closed her eyes.
She was not ready.
She was not ready to die. The thought pounded through her skull, raw and terrified.
I want to live, she almost screamed.
However, before the fire could consume her, arms wrapped around her and wrenched her away. The world lurched. The suffocating heat vanished.
When Morgan opened her eyes, Uncle Jest's battered face hovered above her, bruised and bloodied, wearing a crooked, sheepish expression. Behind him, Uncle Madoc carried them both in his single remaining arm, teeth clenched with effort.
They must have made for a ridiculous sight. In any other moment, she might have laughed. In this one, she only wanted to cry.
As the battlefield shrank behind them, as what little remained of her forces was abandoned to die, Morgan lay limp in their grasp.
Her armor felt too heavy. Her chest hurt. Her skin still burned. And beneath it all, the same thought roared in her mind.
She wanted to live.
-------------------------------------------
Cassie regarded the battlefield through countless points of view.
No detail escaped her. No battle went unwitnessed, nor did any death happen in solitude.
As far as she could tell, everything was going according to plan.
She had doubted. She had been afraid. She had almost crumbled under the pressure and asked Nephis to order a retreat before the Valor forces arrived. It would have been hard to convince her, hellishly so, but she knew how to do it.
And yet she carried on, if only because if she faltered now, then she would always do so. Far greater dangers awaited them, and if she could not handle this, then she could not handle those either. So she steeled her will and carried on, nudging things here and there, making small deviations that would lead to the outcome she was looking for.
For once, everything was going according to plan. It felt almost surreal. A thousand things could have gone wrong, yet they had not. It was not reassuring. Quite the contrary, in fact. She did not summon her runes; she did not need to. She could recall the details with perfect clarity.
[Beloved child of Fate].
It had appeared among her attributes the same day the Crimson Spire fell, along with other things.
It had not taken long before she learned firsthand just how cruel the being calling itself her parent could be.
Cassie shook her head, forcing away the stray thoughts, and returned her focus to reality.
In the distance, she saw Sunny's bodies converge into a single one, battling the guardian of the Gate, a gargantuan, scaled, three headed eagle. A Corrupted Terror whose Aspect seemed related to dreams. It might have posed a harrowing challenge, had it not been facing someone who had just returned from dealing with the same thing in the form of a Sacred Titan.
She exhaled sadly. Cassie would have liked to meet the woman.
"Is he going to be okay?"
Cassie turned toward Rain. It was not something she needed to do, but it always seemed to set people at ease when she still acted as though she could see.
She smiled reassuringly. "Your brother is strong. Of course he will."
Rain nodded shakily and turned back to the battle, watching with rapt attention.
It was winding down. Two of the eagle's heads were already gone, its left wing had been broken, and deep gashes covered its body.
A minute passed, and the remaining head fell to the ground, closely followed by the rest of its body.
Cassie exhaled slowly, feeling exhaustion leave her as she did, replaced instead by the dull headache that always pursued her when she was low on essence. In the distance, she saw the others converge around Sunny. Effie was cheering loudly. Kai was smiling so brightly it hurt to look at him. She spotted Nephis approaching too and decided that it was time.
She patted Rain's back softly, nudging her toward the others. The girl was frozen for a moment, caught between teenage nerves and the wish to meet her long lost brother. Cassie nudged her once more, and she finally overcame it, choosing to dash straight toward Sunny.
Cassie exhaled once more. Just in time.
-------------------------------------------
Nephis did not know what to say. She did not know what to do.
She had pictured this very moment in her mind countless times. Elaborate speeches, heartfelt words, actions that would prove just how much she regretted what she had done. She had made plans, hundreds if not thousands of them, each measured to the millimeter.
All of that preparation eluded her now. The words had evaporated like mist. The actions seemed ridiculous and pointless. The plans were all but forgotten.
Her feet carried her toward the trio in the distance, and she had no idea what she was going to do or say.
"Sorry, did I say vexed?" she heard Effie quote, her voice dripping with glee. "Chills. Absolute chills."
She had an arm draped around Sunny's shoulder, pushing him against her side. Nephis was not proud to admit how jealous it made her to see that he made no effort to break the hold.
He looked at the Huntress for an impossibly long moment and then laughed so hard his chest shook.
"I missed you too, you thug," he muttered with fond exasperation.
"Are you all right, Sunny?" Kai asked, his eyes carefully tracing his form, looking for any wounds.
Sunny rolled his eyes, but there was no missing the smile on his face and the wink that followed. "Of course I am. They were just some Saints and Corrupted."
There was a moment of silence as the ridiculous statement hung in the air, and then all three laughed, tension seemingly leaving their bodies. It was amid that joyful atmosphere that she arrived.
Three pairs of eyes landed on her immediately. Effie smiled mischievously and pushed Sunny harder against her side before letting go of him. Kai smiled too, looking relieved to see her in good shape. The final pair settled on her, and in those bottomless pits of shadow she saw countless emotions pass. Fear. Relief. Rage. Hope, shining brighter than the others.
At his feet, the shadows writhed outward, flowing through countless shapes without settling on one.
Nephis took a step forward and opened her mouth, but nothing came out. Sunny took a step forward and opened his mouth too. Yet nothing came from him either.
For a moment there was silence between them, one that felt so tense it could snap at any second.
In that silence, she heard a pair of feet striding across the ground, quickly revealing their owner as Rain, who ran straight past her and jumped into Sunny's arms.
"Big Brother!" she cried happily, her arms coiling around him.
Sunny looked down at the girl in his arms and blinked, looking more lost than Nephis had ever seen him.
"Rain?"
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High above, perched on the roof of one of the few houses left standing after the battle, a two headed crow stared with interest at the reunion taking place.
It was cute, heartwarming even. Two siblings long separated, reunited at last. Had her current vessel possessed the required anatomy, she would have smiled.
From the corner of her eyes, she spotted the fleeing Saints and the heiress of Valor. Briefly, she considered striking them down at that very moment but discarded the idea. It would push dear Anvil into a dangerous situation, one to which she was sure he would respond poorly.
It was not worth the headache, not so soon.
Her focus returned to the family reunion below, and she felt amusement spread through her mind.
"The new generation sure is terrifying," she croaked, impressed despite herself.
Should she kill them all right now?
Little Nephis had become a Master faster than anyone could have predicted. That was not all. She might have been badly losing, but the fact that she had battled a Saint of Madoc's caliber on her own and survived was a feat that could not be understated.
And that boy, Sunless… he was terrifying. A Sleeper conquering the Third Nightmare. It was so absurd she did not even have words to describe it. And yet there he was, still alive, still standing.
Killing them was the right choice. Sensible, wise, practical. A threat was better smothered in the cradle, after all.
And yet, Ki Song could admit that she had always been greedy. Why destroy something when you could own it? She wanted them, wanted them so badly it was taking all of her self control not to sweep them off their feet and drag them back to Ravenheart at that very moment. She reined in her urges. It would not do to tip her hand so early.
She was going to make an offer, one that could not be denied.
If they accepted, her clan would welcome a new princess and its first prince.
And if they refused? Well, her domain would welcome them instead.
-------------------------------------------
Rain's heart felt so full it seemed as though it might burst.
There had been so much emotion in the day. So many things had happened that she did not even know which one to focus on.
Wait. No, she did.
It was currently holding her hand. Sunny was walking right beside her, glancing at her from time to time as if she might disappear if he looked away for too long.
They entered the manor behind the others, the structure largely intact. Her brother had defended it flawlessly, both from the Valor forces and the Nightmare Creatures. She pouted a little. Had he glanced even once in Cassie's direction, he would have seen her too and could have approached on his own instead of forcing her to do it.
Rain spotted Aiko as they walked toward the hall. The girl froze upon catching sight of Nephis and then bolted faster than Rain had ever seen someone move. What was wrong with her?
She shrugged. Probably nothing important.
When they arrived, everyone started taking a seat. She did too, though she regretted having to let go of her brother's hand to do so.
One of the noncombatants among the Firekeepers arrived shortly after, looking ragged and seconds away from a panic attack. The poor man asked if they wanted a drink and, after getting an answer, bolted straight out of the room at a speed that rivaled Aiko's.
A moment of silence followed. Rain took the chance to look around the room.
Effie was lounging against the couch, the very image of relaxation. She was already munching on the snacks the Firekeeper had brought.
Kai was sitting properly by her side, exuding elegance with every movement. He was staring at her brother, smiling so brightly she was almost blinded.
Cassie was seated alone in a chair, looking just as elegant as Kai, though she seemed extremely tense whenever her sightless gaze landed on Sunny.
Nephis was sitting on a chair as well, reclining slightly against its high back. She kept stealing glances at Sunny but had yet to say anything.
Finally, there was Sunny, still standing and staring anywhere but at the last two women.
"Aren't you going to sit?" Rain asked curiously.
Sunny turned to her, and his dark eyes held so many emotions that she was almost overwhelmed. High above all of them was a fondness that made a lump form in her throat.
He laughed awkwardly, rubbing the back of his head. "I can't do that."
"Why?" Kai asked, worry shining on his face.
Sunny shook his head. "If I sit down, I won't get up in weeks."
Only then did Rain realize what she had been failing to notice. The way his shoulders sagged, as if they had been carrying an impossible weight for too long. His fingers trembled with exhaustion, moving erratically. His eyes drooped, barely staying open. His legs shook as though they were about to give out beneath him.
He was standing not because he wanted to, but because the moment he released the tension keeping him upright, he would collapse.
"You can sleep if you want to," Nephis said at last.
Her brother's eyes snapped to her, and for a moment something dangerous shone in them, something that made Rain feel as if the room had grown dimmer. The moment passed, and the exhaustion clinging to him returned, twice as oppressive.
"I wish I could do that," he said slowly, his eyes never leaving Nephis'. "Sadly, I cannot let my guard down in this place."
Was he afraid that more Nightmare Creatures would come? The guardian had been dealt with, and the Firekeepers in good enough shape were standing watch over the Gate while the Government arrived to seal it.
"If something were going to happen, it would have already happened," Nephis answered.
Sunny smiled bitterly. "Or maybe it will the moment I let my guard down."
Nephis stared at him for a long moment, trying to find an answer. In the end, she rose from her chair and crossed the room so swiftly that none of them had the chance to react before they were face to face.
A silence followed, tense and fragile. They merely looked at each other. Rain did not dare make a sound, and neither did the others. It felt as though they were intruding on a moment not meant for them.
"I'm sorry," Nephis said, her eyes never leaving his.
The shadows at his feet convulsed violently for a moment before settling back under his control.
"I have been thinking of this moment for a long time. Drafted speeches, planned grand gestures. But now that you are here before me…" Nephis stopped and took a deep breath. "I can recall none of it." She let out a hollow chuckle that made Rain's heart ache. "I'm sorry. That's all I can say."
Sunny looked at her for a long moment, his eyes just as steadily fixed on hers. "It's funny. I can't recall any of the things I had prepared to say or do either."
"Then you know this won't be solved today," she said, and Rain could not help feeling that she was missing something in their exchange. "So please, stop hurting yourself and rest, if you want."
Nephis' hand rose slowly toward his right arm. He looked at it as if it were a coiled snake, yet he did not move away. Gently, when her hand touched his arm, she nudged him toward the chair behind him.
"We will still be here when you wake up," she said softly, gesturing to the seat. "Please, you have done more than enough. You can leave the rest to us, if you wish."
Sunny stared at the comfortable chair as though it were made of fire. His expression making clear that he did not even consider accepting.
Another tense moment followed, broken when Effie rose and marched over to them. A hand landed on Sunny's shoulder and pushed him down so abruptly that he had no time to resist before he was already seated.
"I have no idea what is going on between you two, but enough is enough," the Huntress said. "Sleep. Rest. If anyone has earned it, it's you."
Kai joined them, smiling softly. "You have done enough, Sunny." His hand rested on Sunny's other shoulder. "I promise that no harm will come to you while we are here."
Sunny chuckled weakly, his eyes drooping dangerously as he fought to stay awake. "I can't do that," he murmured so faintly she barely heard him.
Rain rose as well. When his exhausted eyes landed on her, she did not hesitate to approach and take his hand. It was colder than she remembered. Colder and shaking.
"I will still be here when you wake up."
He blinked slowly, staring at her without understanding for a moment before squeezing her hand almost desperately, as if anchoring himself to the world through her.
"Do you promise?"
His voice was small, fragile in a way she had never heard before. As if the simple act of closing his eyes required faith he was not sure he possessed.
"I do."
For a heartbeat, he continued to fight it. Rain could see it: the stubborn tension in his jaw, the faint tightening of his fingers around hers, the shadows at his feet stirring restlessly as though they too refused to let their master fall. His gaze flickered once, almost involuntarily, to Nephis. Something unspoken passed between them. Something heavy, unresolved, painful.
Then it was gone.
The strength drained out of him all at once. His fingers slackened, though he did not let go. His head tilted back against the chair, and his eyes closed.
His breathing deepened. Slow. Even. Each inhale steadier than the last. The rigid lines of his face softened, the constant sharpness fading into something almost boyish. The tension that had held his body upright for who knew how long unraveled thread by thread. His shoulders sank. The faint crease between his brows smoothed.
He looked younger like this. Smaller.
Human.
Rain tightened her grip on his hand, afraid that if she let go he might vanish, as if he were only visiting them and would return to whatever nightmare he had crawled out of. He had said he could not let his guard down in this place. But in the end, he had. Not because it was safe, but because she had asked him to.
Around the room, no one spoke. Effie stepped back quietly. Kai withdrew his hand. Cassie smiled from her chair. Even Nephis did not move, her gaze fixed on his sleeping face with an intensity that made Rain's chest ache.
Years of peril. Countless nightmares. Battles no one here had witnessed.
And yet, what had finally defeated him was the sincere promise of a sister to not leave his side.