Cylia slowly opened her eyes. She winced, her body screaming from the bruises and broken ribs. She could hardly feel her arms or her legs. Her chest was burning, her head throbbing, and lastly, her stomach growling from hunger.

Cylia couldn’t remember when her last proper meal was. Overexerting her body took a toll, but she had to in order to escape—even if her body broke down along the way. When she jumped at Hessian, she knew that was it. She brawled with Hessian like there was no tomorrow, but he overpowered her easily. All she had left was clinging to his leg to prevent him from getting to the others.

Why she did that, she couldn’t explain.

“Everything hurts,” groaned Cylia, shifting closer to whatever was cushioning her head.

“That can happen if you jump out of a moving wagon.” Recognising Xander’s voice, Cylia tensed up and was about to scream since his lap cushioned her head. “What are you doing-!?” Cylia fell into a coughing fit. Her throat was so dry she could drink a river.

“Not my idea. Kiur asked me to, so you don’t lie on the hot sand,” explained Xander grumpily, sitting uncomfortably on his numb legs with a hand on his knee and the other on his chin.

“Kiur? He’s here too?” Cylia stopped when she turned her head and spotted the groups of Reiszer before them in a wide cluster. She spotted Kiur before the Reiszer leader, who scrutinised him with a curious dip of her head.

“Hessian, wake up Hessian.” Nertha lightly clapped Hessian’s roughed-up face when he rested on her lap. His comrades surrounded Hessian. They were worried about his well-being since he wasn’t waking up.

Kiur never realised this before by how Hessian conducted himself, but people cared for him. There was a genuine worry for him, and not something sprung from fear.

“He’s not waking up. He has a terrible concussion.”

“No surprise, he’s been through a lot worse than we were.” Bjorn walked up to their leader and knelt before her. “1st. Elite Yamamoto Tomoe!” Bjorn shouted. “Please help us. Our friend is in danger here!”

Cylia’s eyes widened. She recognised the name.

Yamamoto Tomoe. It was not a common name for an Eastern Reiszer. Her clothes made Cylia suspicious, but hearing her name made her realise she was a Western Reiszer, one who brought the Eastern regions to their knees decades ago.

They were isolationists who hid their faces and skin when they ever travelled to the East. They viewed the Eastern Reiszer as disposable pawns. Cylia saw them only once, the day her mother was taken.

Their status was absolute, invoking fear in all the Reiszer with their purest martial arts skill the Reiszer used and their mere presence. Yet Bjorn kept his cool before her, which amused Tomoe.

“How are his injuries?” She put a gloved hand at her masked but kept the other on her scabbard, not letting up on her guard for even a second. Not that anyone would be stupid enough to do anything.

“Bruises, broken bones, the entire package,” explained Bjorn. “We can and will keep up, but Hessian is in no position to. He had done more than any of us here. Please, help him.” Bjorn begged and put his head to the ground, presenting his bare neck before her. For a warrior, it was the utmost show of respect by grovelling and accepting death.

“Hmmmm~?” Tomoe hummed and turned away. She put a gloved hand on the hip of her hakama pants. “You,” she pointed at the soldier Xander taunted previously. “Share your recovery potions with him.”

“Ehm, Commander,” the soldier stuttered, eyes to the ground, afraid to look at her superior. “I need them myself.”

“OH, are you injured?” Tomoe cocked her head in surprise and clapped her hands. “I didn’t know you were sooooo badly injured. You don’t look that part.”

“I-it’s not that.” She wrung her hands to stop them from shaking. “He’s but a slave. He doesn’t need a potion-”

Tomoe unsheathed her sword in a blink of an eye. It was barely visible how she moved and cut the soldier’s chain-mail armour into pieces without using magic. It was almost invisible to the naked and untrained eye. Bjorn and Cylia were the only ones able to spot it from their position.

“You look healthy to me. You might have let yourself go a little, though,” commented Tomoe with a dark drawl. “Share all your potions with them. This is an order.” Tomoe sheathed her sword back.

“Y-yes, First Elite.” The soldier bowed her head. Her eyes were glassy as she witnessed her own demise. Her hands were shaking as she handed over her potions to Bjorn.

“Thank you,” said Bjorn, but she waved him away and hid herself between the soldiers.

Tomoe folded her arms before her chest and narrowed her eyes at Kiur. Her gaze looked chipper. “You’re the brother of that man, hm? Stepbrothers, I presume?-”

“Shut up!” shouted Kiur and flared up the sand. Tomoe didn’t bat an eye on his little outburst. She thought it was rather cute. “Where’s my brother?! What did you do to him?”

“That idiot,” Xander nervously bit on his gloved finger. “He’ll get himself killed and us.”

Tomoe put a fist underneath her chin and tilted her head, thinking. Her black hair swayed in the wind. “Why should I tell you? After all, you three are at my mercy. I’m under no obligation to answer anything.”

“Answer me,” growled Kiur. “What did you do to my brother?”

Observing Kiur’s angry expression, Tomoe waited for a few moments. Taking her time to interrupt right before Kiur was to talk again. “Tell me, wasn’t the blood enough for an answer? I put in quite an effort not to wipe it clean so you could see it.”

“You murderer!” Kiur burst out a searing ball of fire out of his arm, though it did nothing but miss his target, blown away by the wind. The flames dissipated alongside the little mana he had left, leaving him panting from over-exertion.

“Cute.” Tomoe smiled underneath her mask. Her eyes softened from Kiur’s defiance. “You’ve got brio, but not as much as your brother. Tell you what, entertain us, and maybe I will change your fate.” Her eyes smiled at Xander and Cylia. “Including that of your little friends.”

“Kiur, think before you say anything.” Xander took off his robe and put Cylia’s head down on it. He carefully approached Kiur and whispered, “Remember, those are Reiszer, and she’s from the far West.”

“What difference does it make?” asked Kiur. He wasn’t sure what Xander meant.

“Quick summary, because they watch us.” Xander came closer to explain, “The Reiszer Nations are split into two major parts. Except that Yamamoto over there, everyone else are Reiszer from the eastern regions. They are more aggressive, stern, unpredictable and vicious. However,” his voice became icy as they locked eyes with the woman with the fox masked woman. She waved at them. “She’s from the Western parts, the far West. They rarely set foot outside their territories. They are elitist, so while we cannot trust the words of the Eastern Reiszer, we might trust her.”

“Are you insane? How can you suggest that? Do you trust her?”

Xander paused. “No, but what else can we do? She’s playing with you, so play along.”

“I don’t plan to humour her! I-”

“We don’t have the whole day,” Tomoe swiped with her finger, separating Xander and Kiur through a clean line she cut into the ground. An icy shiver ran down their spines that cut just was. “If we can’t catch any more of the Escapees, then please entertain us. If not, it would be A. Real. Shame.” Tomoe snarled.

Resentfully, Kiur tightened his hands on his robe and shawl. He was discontent about it all. All the Reiszer stared at him with the supposed murderer of his brother. His anger blossomed. She was mocking him, knowing he couldn’t do anything since she had the upper. And the worst part of it all?

She was right.

—☾—

“Do you think we’ll ever get out of here?”

“Doubt it,” answered Xander, covering his face in his hands. “Oh, I can’t watch this.”

“Yeah, me neither.” Cylia tried to adjust her position to look away from what she saw. She didn’t have the stomach to watch it.

This book was originally published on Royal Road. Check it out there for the real experience.

It was nothing short of bullying someone who had no way of winning. Ganging up in groups of three, they rotated periodically and pestered Kiur. Pushing, hitting, kicking and punching him against his head, abdomen, limbs, throat or sides. Anything was fair game as long as they didn’t kill him. As long as their leader was enjoying it.

And she WAS enjoying it.

“You are nothing but a scribe, huh?” Tomoe laughed, sitting down on a rogue slab of stone. She leaned her head against her fist and crossed a leg over the other. Tomoe hummed. “That explains your constitution. You can’t even use magic without losing control. You’re admirable for even trying, almost cute, but nothing like your older brother.”

Kiur knocked an opponent off the edge, and another one immediately replaced them. They turned it into a game to see how long someone could last. All Kiur had on him for this was a crude makeshift staff he had conjured out of stone, and Tomoe allowed him to use it out of courtesy.

Syphoning the energy from the ground below, Kiur maintained his impromptu fighting form against the Reiszer. Tripping or hitting them with every opportunity that arose.

His arms and legs ached as they became harder and harder to maintain, but he kept moving inexhaustibly. He couldn’t stop.

“It’s strange, you know?” Tomoe leaned closer. “You use your staff as if you’re proficient with it, yet your body can barely keep up.”

Kiur understood what he meant but couldn’t explain it either. Something transmitted into his core and made him move. Muscle Memory he didn’t possess before burnt into his’.

“Whatever it is, keep moving. Keep moving until your body breaks like your brother did.” Tomoe chuckled softly. The other Reiszer joined in the laughter, waiting for their turn to bully Kiur.

“Xander,” Cylia whispered, “please tell me you have a plan. I know your scheming and villainous brain has something in store.” She grimaced as Kiur got kicked in the stomach. “We can’t let them continue.”

A long sigh left Xander’s mouth. He buried his head in his arms as he sat down in defeat. “Nothing,” he shook his head, “we can’t do anything. This situation is outside our control. We can only hope they get satisfied soon, and that we don’t get roped into it too, or that they get another crazy idea. I’m sorry, but I’m out of ideas.”

Cylia slumped her shoulders.

Hopelessness sand into their bodies. They despaired how little they could do, wishing there was something. Three against several dozen. The Reiszer outnumbered them.

Xander and Cylia hung their heads. “There’s nothing we can-”

The clattering of armour against the ground brought them back to reality. They just witnessed how Kiur knocked down all three of his opponents in one falling swoop. “Stop fooling with me here!” he shouted and held on to his staff for support. “What did you do to my brother? Tell me!”

Tomoe chuckled at Kiur’s fierce bravado. Her eyes glistered behind the mask with each wound she received from Archil aching with excitement to keep pushing Kiur.

“Let’s stop this stupid lark,” yet the one to stop it was the barely recovered Hessian and the only one to risk approaching Tomoe without reservation. He towered before her while holding his bruised chest. “I can’t stand how you are bullying those we captured. Stop it at once.”

Hessian’s comrades hesitated to back him up. They didn’t have the gall to stand up with him. Even sitting, her presence was overpowering with confidence. Compared to Tomoe, Hessian was like a beaten-up puppy standing up to a proverbial, sitting giantess.

“You have more bite than the rest.” Tomoe stood up. She clasped Hessian’s shoulder. Everyone watched how she forced Hessian to his knees, keeping him there. It was identical to the way Kiur witnessed him pushing down the little girl Ninda, but now the roles were reversed. He was the helpless one. “I thought slaves threw away their pride to survive,” she whispered in his ear, but the wind carried her voice. “Or am I mistaken?”

“No,” hissed Hessian through his teeth, looking her straight in the eyes. “We threw away our pride long ago, but I have my principles.” He tried to push himself back up against her force. His knees shook as he tried to keep a straight back. “We’ve captured them. There is no need to make a spectacle of them.”

“Hm,” Tomoe closed her eyes and let out a long and monotone sound, exhaling the air for a minute straight. Opening her eyes, she clapped Hessian’s back hard. “One last round. Let’s put this slave on for the last show!”

Discontentedly, the soldiers left the circle. Kiur collapsed to his knees. He had no strength left. Just breathing took everything out of him.

“I can’t do this anymore. Why am I still pushing myself?” Kiur saw dark spots dancing, and his vision swam. He just wanted it all to end.

“What is the end?” he wondered. “Enslavement? Servitude? Death?” Kiur didn’t like any of the answers. He just wanted to know what had happened to his brother? “Will I ever get an answer?”

“Here, drink up,” Hessian surprised Kiur as he stood before him and threw a vial of blue liquid at his feet. “It’s the rest of the recovery potion, take it and-”

“Why do you care?” huffed Kiur, his hazy red eyes meeting Hessian’s hazel sunstone ones. “You are partly to blame for our situation. So why-”

Pulling Kiur’s head back by the hair, Hessian shoved the contents of the potion into Kiur’s mouth, forcing him to swallow it.

“Precisely because I’m responsible for this mess; I’ll-” Kiur slapped away the vial and thrust the staff forward for Hessian to jump away, “see it through the end, no matter what. Even if it leads to your death!”

Hessian lunged at him. It was strange. Kiur could keep up with him. He never wielded a weapon. His body wasn’t trained. His heart was filled with doubt and anger. Something sent Kiur’s mind into overdrive, and the potion only seemed to accelerate the process. His tired limbs rejected the pain and exhaustion, performing with Hessian a macabre dance of violence.

“Keep going, boys, keep going!” Tomoe went around them in circles like a predator. She watched their fight excitingly, but Hessian and Kiur ignored her.

Both blanked out their surroundings and kept their focus on one another while Tomoe kept on circling around them. Everything went dark with the only boundary being the circle they fought inside and the giant black fox prowling outside of it menacingly, blending into the darkness.

“Strange,” started Hessian as they both deflected each other in their blows. Blunt staff against rusted sword. “You’ve changed. Your body is held back by whatever your mind is receiving. Your skills don’t match your body.”

“I can say the same to you,” answered Kiur, redirecting Hessian’s swings and lungs and aiming at his legs or abdomen. “Your body isn’t in shape. You can’t get to the level you possess. It’s like watching a malfunctioning golem attempting to operate the way it was intended to.”

The fight formed a brief connection between the two. Not of hate or respect, it was something alien, yet familiar. They disliked each other with every fibre in their body, but also couldn’t truly hate each other.

When Kiur blocked Hessian’s sword and it got stuck in his staff, they glimpsed something in each of them.

In Hessian, Kiur could see a man devoid of emotion, trying to find purpose in something, but didn’t know where it was or how to find it. He was a man who lost his pursuit and repeated the same old mistakes.

In Kiur, Hessian saw a crying shadow. One shattered to pieces and desperately tried putting themself back together. Their hands were covered in their own blood and marked with cuts and bruises. A shadow that longed for acceptance more than anything.

“You,” Hessian’ voice shook with hesitation. “Who are you? You’re not the same one I met in that city. You changed- no, what did you do? Who are you?”

Kiur’s eyes widened. Hessian’s grip got weaker. What was he feeling sorry for? Why was he crying?

“You boys disappoint me.” A giant fox head appeared between them. Her swirling eyes stared into both of them as her jaw unhinged to reveal a frightening amount of jagged crimson teeth. It wasn’t real, but it could very much be. “You did so well. I expected more. Hah,” The fox vanished, and Tomoe exhaled. “Shall I tell you the truth about your brother?”

Tomoe came closer, so close that Kiur could feel the frigid breath underneath her mask and an impossibly slow heartbeat. His skin ran cold as whispered into his ear with a chuckle.

“He couldn’t keep up with me. He tried so hard. Oh, how he gave his best. It had been a long time since I felt the thrill of battle.” She waited, taking in Kiur’s angry expression, enjoying the despair as she did with Archil when she told him what she would do to his brother. “Dead, swallowed by the desert of your ancestors, trying to save the worthless lives of you all. It’s amusing, you know? He couldn’t save his own brother. May he cry a new oasis for his brother”

Tomoe’s burst of laughter drowned out any voice or sound of foe or friend. She enjoyed playing the villain, painting herself as evil as she wanted nothing more than to plant the seeds of despair—tricking and foiling the heart of the boy before her.

Hoping for the amusement Kiur could give her, she felt disenchanted seeing him break into tears. “That’s not what I wanted to see-”

“Aaaaaargh!” Kiur broke out into a fit, bawling out his eyes as he heard about his brother’s demise. Tomoe received exactly what she wanted to see afterwards.

Pure rage.

His magic went rampant. Kiur connected himself with the ground, breaking down the surface. He made the entire ring spin and ejected Hessian outside its boundaries. “How could you!” Kiur pulled back his staff, sharpened its edge, and swung it like a halberd at the Reiszer leader.

“It felt good, didn’t it?” Pulling the scabbard tightly against her chest, Tomoe unsheathed her sword, redirected the blow and absorbed the momentum to move her sword above her head to swing it at Kiur.

She stopped right before his throat.

“Game over, boy, you did well, but it was not enough. Time to say our goodbyes. You’ll see your brother again. I’m sure of it.” Tomoe’s eyes softened. Her sword sang.

Kiur’s staff fell to the ground. He never stood a chance against Tomoe. Not even his brother could. Just like him, Kiur would die by her scarlet blade.

“I could have done better.” Kiur presented his neck, accepting the outcome.

“Stop it, Kiur! You can’t-” They stopped when they saw Kiur’s appeased smile as he was about to meet his end.

“I’m sorry, but thank you for being around me. If only I was a better person,” Kiur said his farewell. His delusion reappeared. Her figure stared right into his soul as Tomoe readied her sword.

“It’s strange, isn’t it?” Kiur spoke to his delusion, knowing full well her identity. “This is as far as I go. I- we could have done better. I’m so sorry for how I am, how we are, my past.”

The delusion of Lotte crumbled. Kiur finally understood. He was the sad afterimage of a deceased woman who couldn’t be accepted by others or by herself. Eventually, the regret followed her into the new life. She tried to warn him. Communicated with Kiur to make amends, but nothing helped. Now, it was truly their end.

“I hope we’ll do better wherever we go now,” Kiur mumbled under his last breath. The cold steel tingled against his skin, ready to behead him. Tomoe swung.

“Stay away from my brother, you cur!” They heard the hum of the wind soaring and echoing through the sky. A gale picked up the desert and blew away every grain and individual in its way.

Archil intercepted the sword. He came to save his brother.