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Terror fueled Vir’s breaths. Blood surged through his legs.

Together with Maiya, he tore through the Godshollow faster than he ever had. Gone were any thoughts of exhaustion. What remained was a deep-seated desire to live. To survive.

Barking, Neel leaped to intercept the bandy that had pounced upon his master. Vir didn’t even have the luxury to turn around and stop. He just ran. Vir had no idea where he was going, or even what direction he was headed, but that didn’t matter. He just had to gain as much distance from that knight as possible.

“Vir. Vir!” Maiya yelled.

He finally looked back. Five bandies had beset Neel. He was fighting for his life.

Vir’s heart clenched. He hesitated. To turn back meant throwing himself into danger. To flee meant abandoning his precious friend.

The answer was obvious. He turned back. What use was surviving if he couldn’t live with himself after?

Neel occupied the bandies’ attention, giving Vir and Maiya the element of surprise.

Hold on, Neel. We’re coming!

Vir grasped his knife with both hands and ran, intending to plunge the blade into the unprotected back of one of the bandies.

But the beast had sharp instincts. The bandy turned away at the last moment and Vir’s blade grazed the beast, drawing blood but doing no actual damage.

Arooo! An enemy bandy whimpered. Maiya’s blade had struck true, sinking into her target.

With the attacking bandies temporarily distracted, Neel leaped through their encirclement, taking his spot beside Vir and Maiya. The blood-soaked bandy did not look well. Slash marks covered the beast and one of his eyelids was glued shut. The poor animal whimpered, gasping for breath.

Vir took stock of the situation. The bandy Maiya had hit was down, but not out. The other four were in top condition. And not far behind was the real threat: the knight. If he fled now, the bandies would just catch up again. He couldn’t risk Neel anymore than he already had.

The only option was to put the four bandies out of commission, then flee with Maiya. That might give them a chance to avoid the knight. Or they could hunker down and wait for him to leave. But all routes to success hinged on eliminating the bandies.

His thoughts were cut short by two bandies who leaped at him simultaneously. Vir ducked and guarded with his left arm, while he stabbed the incoming bandy with his right.

This time, guided by the gibberish voices in his head, his knife pierced the animal’s soft underbelly, scoring a deep wound. But he’d taken a hit in return. The left bandy gouged his guarding arm, blinding him with pain. The right bandy crashed into him, disarming him and sending him tumbling to the ground. His back collided with a rock and the world went black.

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When Vir came to, his body throbbed all over and it was suddenly hard to move.

This is bad, he thought hazily, noticing that his hands had been bound.

Slowly, he pieced together what might have happened. Maiya was missing, along with the bandies. He was alone in the woods.

Did the knight tie me up, then chase after Maiya while I was out!?

“Maiya!” He yelled. No response.

Vir searched around and located his knife, hidden under some leaves. He'd never have found it if he hadn't seen where it fell. Shimmying over to it, he propped it up with his feet and worked as fast as he could manage, sawing the rope against the rusted blade. Slowly, agonizingly, the fibers broke one by one. The entire time, scenes of Maiya being skewered by the knight played out in his head.

Finally freeing himself, he retrieved the knife and made his way through the forest, shouting Maiya’s name despite the danger. The knight was surely nearby. Announcing his position like this was a terrible idea. He knew that. But he could barely walk straight, let alone track Maiya’s trail. He had no choice. Getting separated was the worst thing that could’ve happened to them.

Everyone who was dear to him was being plucked away by the goddess of death, one by one. He’d been unable to save Rudvik. Would Maiya and Neel perish, too?

Finally, he heard barking. Neel!

Looking toward the source of the sound, he saw a flash of red, nearby. Red hair. Maiya, hiding under an enormous Godhollow root.

She was well concealed, but the hunting bandies had found her.

Thank Yuma, he breathed. Maiya was ten paces away, fighting off several bandies, and the knight was nowhere in sight.

The knight must've set out looking for her after he tied me up!

Vir tried to piece together the chain of events. It must have taken the knight some time to tie him up. Neel must have distracted the bandies, giving Maiya a chance to escape and hide. The knight must be nearby, searching for her; he would not be far behind.

His relief was short-lived. When he saw what Maiya was up against, the blood in his face drained.

They’re going to kill her!

Maiya raised her knife in defense. A pair of bandies leaped into the air, their hungry eyes locked onto her throat.

Vir sprinted. But he was too far. He wasn’t going to make it.

No. NO! I refuse to accept that! Maiya!!

Something. He needed something. His skills were insufficient. He needed to improve his combat skills, but not gradually. Now!

In desperation, Vir reached out with his will. With his soul. Begging for the means to save his dearest friend.

And something answered.

The world faded away. The trees disappeared, and the bandies’ barks muted. He was no longer in the Godshollow. He now stood in a blighted realm where ash fell eternally. His arms were gangly long things, and sickly gray.

He was no longer Ekavir. Random memories flooded into him. A vast underground city. Scenes of battle. His anger flared: The gall of those Gargans. Invading Jallak Kallol on the eve of my coronation!? The Iksana will not stand for this! Only death awaits those who defy the Akh Nara.

Vir didn’t recognize the names. The memories made no sense to him.

Along with the memories came a torrent of emotions: the smug satisfaction of conquering one’s foes. The overwhelming confidence of one who had fought a thousand battles and won them all.

He was no longer Ekavir. He was Ekanai. The Reaper.

The white tattoo on his chest pulsed. The voices in Vir's head disappeared, as if reaped. In exchange, Vir’s vision burst with a myriad of colors he’d never seen. Strange motes of light swirled and coursed through the bandies who sprung for Maiya.

A transformation came upon Vir. He moved without effort or thought, his injuries forgotten. He knew exactly where the bandies would be. As if executing the steps of a well-rehearsed dance, he lunged at the attackers, twirling through the air with his knife.

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A slice, a twist, a thrust. Within his enemies’ bodies, he saw lines of glowing light, and each of his strikes penetrated precisely where those lights shone brightest. Throat, chest, eyes.

He landed softly on his toes. The two bandies crashed in front of Maiya—dead. They never even saw what had hit them.

Maiya stood stock still. “V-Vir…?” She whispered in disbelief.

Suddenly, out of nowhere, hatred flowed through Vir when he looked at Maiya.

‘Dead weight. A weakness the Fates will undoubtedly exploit. Weakness we cannot afford. I am sorry. She is a hindrance to our mission. End her now, before she becomes a problem.’

Vir slowly approached Maiya, one part of him dead set on killing her, and another part desperately fighting against it. It was as if his mind had broken in two.

His steps slowed and slowed, until he stopped himself.

‘She will only bring us pain and suffering,’ the voice said, confused.

“She's... My… Friend!” Vir growled through clenched teeth.

He stumbled, finally returning to his senses, blessedly alone within his head once again. Then he retched into the dirt, clutching his tattoo, which felt like it had burned a hole through his chest.

What was that? He thought, trembling. He’d experienced nothing like it. It was as if…

“As if I was possessed,” he whispered.

Vir never believed the tales of demons and possession, but now he wondered if he’d been wrong to dismiss them. Was it possession, though? That feeling of overwhelming, absolute confidence… The power!

Wasn’t this exactly the strength he’d longed for so badly? With it, Rudvik would still be alive. With that kind of power, he could protect Maiya.

Protect… Maiya?

Vir shivered. The voice wanted to kill her! Guilt wracked his body, and he found himself unable to look his friend in the eye.

I almost hurt her! The thought sent him puking once again. How could he have even thought that? It was shameful. It was despicable! What use was power if he lost himself in the process?

Awooooo!

There was no time for introspection—enemies were still out there.

The two remaining bandies howled at Neel, who’d leaped into the fray. Two-on-one wasn’t great odds for his friend, but Maiya had already stepped in to help, evening the fight. She swung her knife wildly, only grazing the bandies, but her actions were enough to keep them distracted while Neel attacked.

Vir found his feet again before immediately stumbling. The voices in his head were gone—replaced by strange colors.

Not replaced... shifted? He felt it was the same information, just conveyed differently. Not through hearing, but sight.

Even so, he couldn't make anything of it. The world looked so alien to his eyes that he could hardly walk. Even worse—his usual strength had left him. His legs felt like they would give out at any moment.

C'mon, you're better than this! he thought, forcing himself to muster his strength.

“Vir!” Maiya shrieked.

He froze, thinking that the bandies had gotten to her.

The reality was much, much worse.

The knight had arrived. And his polearm’s ax head was pressed against Maiya’s neck.

“Move, and you die,” the scout said, recalling his bandies to his side.

Neel stood by Maiya, growling at the new threat despite his many injuries. He needed immediate medical attention.

“Y-you’re a mejai?” Maiya said bravely, despite the blade on her throat.

The knight held up a fiery red orb that glowed with power. “Don’t have to be a mejai to use a precharged orb, do I? If you resist, I’ll just burn your friend with this Ember spell. Though I hope you don’t. C Grade magic is wasted on the likes of you.”

He turned to address Vir. “Now, Ashborn. It seems your father’s death wasn’t enough to cow you. My orders are to bring you in alive, but the others are expendable. Obey me, and she lives. Will you cooperate? Or will you really make me kill your girlfriend here? It is your decision, Ashborn.”

Vir ground his teeth. Think! What can you do?

Scenarios raced through his mind. What if he grabbed Maiya and fled? What if he threw his knife as a distraction? But he was merely deluding himself. There was nothing he could do. He could barely even stand, let alone run. Unless…

“What are you doing? Run!” Maiya shouted. Vir couldn’t understand how she was so brave when she was but a hair’s breadth from death.

He had run once, and he’d lost Rudvik. He wasn’t about to lose Maiya, too. Falling to his knees, Vir discreetly rummaged for a pebble.

“I’ll come,” he said. “But only if you swear you won’t harm Maiya. And that you’ll heal Neel.”

The knight chuckled. “You are in no position to make demands, Ashborn. Come with me or she dies. That’s the long and the short of it.”

“No! Stop!”

“Maiya, it’s the only way! I—I’m sorry,” he said, avoiding her gaze.

Vir took a few hesitant steps toward the knight. To his relief, the knight removed his poleax from Maiya’s throat.

“Now, put down that knife and let me bind you,” the knight said, producing a stretch of rope.

Vir crouched as if to comply.

He mustered every last ounce of strength he had, and lunged for the nearest bandy, aiming for the spot that blazed brightest in his new vision. It was the only trick he had left.

The Bandy jerked away at that last instant, but failed to dodge entirely. Vir’s knife sunk deep into its shoulder. The animal’s survival instinct kicked in, and it bolted away before he could retrieve his knife.

Without missing a beat, Vir whirled and flung his pebble at the man’s helm. The lingering nausea degraded his accuracy, but his endless hours of practice prevailed; the pebble clanged against the knight’s eye slit, startling him for a brief moment.

Vir spun and grabbed Maiya’s arm. But as he turned to flee, the knight discharged his orb. He may have been targeting the ground, or Maiya, but Vir's strike threw off the knight’s aim.

Ember leaped out of the orb and barreled towards Vir, smashing into his back.

“AAAAAAGH!” He screamed, crumpling to the ground. He’d never felt pain like this in his entire life. It was all-consuming, as if melting his very soul.

He rolled in a desperate attempt to douse the flames, but the magic fire spread, setting the ground ablaze.

“Vir!!” Maiya screamed, fumbling around for anything to help put out the fire.

Neel bravely seized the opportunity to attack the knight, but was sent flying by his poleax’s hammer. The bandy crashed into a tree and slumped to the ground, unmoving.

No! Can’t… let it end… like this, Vir thought through the veil of his fading consciousness.

The knight readied his weapon for another swing. Vir didn’t need to be an expert to know that the man intended to decapitate Maiya. She wasn’t even aware, her attention too fixed on Vir.

Not like this…

Vir didn’t even have the strength left to warn his friend.

He watched as the gleaming ax head picked up speed, approaching Maiya’s neck with the promise of death. Vir’s mind went into overdrive.

Think! What can you do!? How can you overcome this?

Yet no matter what plans he came up with, his body simply refused to obey his commands. He squeezed his eyes shut, unable to watch his dearest friend meet her end.

Clang!

The sound of the impact wasn’t what he expected. It was the sound of metal on metal. Vir’s eyes shot open. He fought through the haze that plagued his mind and pieced together what he was seeing.

A seric talwar had stopped the devastating poleax in its tracks. The beautiful curved blade was gripped by a tall, broad figure clad in pure white, resisting the knight’s massive weapon with his left arm.

“The Ghost of Godshollow,” Vir whispered. “Why? How?” So Maiya was right. He was real, after all.

The knight aborted his swing and thrust his polearm at the stranger in white, but the Ghost blurred and vanished entirely.

Vir blinked. Were his eyes failing him? Or did the Ghost actually disappear?

But no, he saw true. The new stranger closed the distance in an instant, leaving no time for the knight to react. The warrior lunged and tackled the armored scout, sending both of them tumbling to the ground.

What followed was a frantic ground grapple that Vir could barely follow, with the Ghost of Godshollow eventually gaining the upper hand. The powerfully built man mounted the knight and pinned him down. Vir could feel the knight’s desperation as he wriggled uselessly under his opponent’s immense weight.

The man in white casually drew a seric knife out of his robe and slid it into the gap between the knight’s helm and breastplate. He stopped squirming soon after.

The Ghost of Godshollow’s actions were so elegant and effortless that Vir’s mind took some time to process what had transpired.

The man who had trivially murdered his father had himself been easily dispatched by someone even more powerful.

What kinds of monsters existed in this world?

Maiya kneeled beside Vir and held his head, her tears falling onto his face. “Vir. Don’t die. Please…”

Her efforts had doused the flames on his back, but that still left him badly burned and dying. The only positive was that the searing pain had faded away to blissful numbness, easing his suffering.

The broad-shouldered, black bearded stranger fixed an eagle-like gaze upon him. Vir felt as if the towering man was peering into the depths of his soul, evaluating him. Judging him.

“Struggle. Endure,” the Ghost of Godshollow bellowed in a rich baritone, “In enduring, grow strong…

“Tell me, Ashborn. Do you desire strength?”

Vir’s lips moved, but they carried no sound. Having spent the last of his strength, Vir slipped into darkness.