The stars of Twilight’s sky held a strange allure. Vin had never found the time to appreciate them before. For him, moonless nights meant battle, blood and slaughter. Men struggled against one another endlessly, fighting for money, glory or status. Vin always thought himself one of them. He desired all three and sought after them. Yet at this most crucial moment he caught himself looking up at the stars. They stood still. Artificial lights pinned to the sky, beautiful in their imperfection and uncaring of the world below. It simply wasn’t fair.

He forced himself to focus on the fight. Death gnawed at the back of his mind, threatening to claim the last thing that brought him joy. If he suffered the penalties of death here, it’d be the end of his journey. A system message flashed red, demanding his attention.

[Affected by Death’s Weakness. Dexterity reduced by 315. Stacks: 63]

Vin willed the information away instead. Skeletal fingers wrapped around his vambrace and froze him to the bone, numbing his arm. He grunted, shoving the skeleton away with a shoulder.

“Just a while longer,” he muttered to himself. He was under no delusion that he could survive. They were all losing. Badly. The battlefield had grown silent. No spells were fired through the sky, and only the pained echoes of the wounded filled the darkness.

Help would not come, and he had seen none of the guild members since coming to his senses. Still, he yearned so much for these fights. Not because of the time he had invested or the need for money. His legs trembled rebelliously, and he let himself fall to his knees. No, it was something else entirely. As he knelt there, as the dead closed in on him, he could hear the wild beats of his heart. In his moments closest to death, Vin felt something he never thought he’d feel again. He felt alive.

A skeleton lunged for him but Vin dropped to the side and rolled, mingling with the soot of the burned. Should he die, it wouldn’t be the end. The sponsors would pressure him into PvE, along with the rest of his guild. What he feared most was not death, but himself. How long could he last without this thrill, this feeling?

The dead flocked around him, hands of white reaching for his flesh and tearing pieces of warmth and life from his body. He tried to stand, to get away, but faltered and fell. The last bastion of hope in his heart surrendered to the cold, so he just lay there, looking up at the stars. What would the others think of tonight? He had trained some of his Marshalls to lead, but even Toshimir had died. Perhaps they would blame him for failing. Perhaps they should.

This story has been stolen from Royal Road. If you read it on Amazon, please report it

The skeletons that loomed over him parted and the necromancer revealed herself. She moved her body through the battlefield with grace, as if it were an open field. A bony hand removed Vin’s helm, violently, and his head jerked back. Her smell reached him now, the sweet scent of roses mixed with the tang of copper.

“Poor Vin,” she said. Her voice sounded velvety and rich, like she had met a lost lover instead of an enemy.

“You know me?” Vin whispered through his dry, frozen throat.

She stepped closer and reached out to touch his cheek. Heat spread from her fingers, the kind he had nearly forgotten. “Many people do,” she said and stood back up. “One perk of fame.”

Vin tried to glimpse her face, but she forced his head back down.

“Eager as always.” She giggled, and the skeletons pinning Vin down crumbled back into bones, the fires within them gone. “It might cost you.”

“You’re letting me go?” Bits of strength resurfaced, and he leaned against the pile of bones.

The necromancer had her back turned. Black hair, straight and thin, ran along her back. Leather covered her sinful figure. “You can’t die yet. Or we won’t have the chance to be… friends.” Sex oozed from her voice. Sweet, charming… vile.

Vin couldn’t understand what she meant. Had the haze of battle muddled his senses? “Why would we ever be friends?” he demanded. “The fact that you spared me changes nothing. Don’t expect the same kindness next time I see you.”

“Aren’t you cold?” She made her voice childish. Innocent. “Perhaps I can warm you.”

Vin caught himself tracing her body. “You can warm me with your blood.” His voice came out shaky and weak. “If you come closer I’ll cut you right now.”

She laughed at him and inched away, skipping over the dead until the night took her. Vin was left staring at the darkness of her absence. The light of the stars he loved so much proved too feeble to break it.

[The battle of Dusk is over. You will be logged out.]