Finally satisfied with the shape of the treeline, Rosalia put down her tube of green icing and fished in her candy pouch. When Rosalia drew on children’s birthday cakes, she always put down the eyes first. Online tutorials seemed to advise otherwise - to each their own, Rosalia supposed. But when she put down the eyes, she felt like she already knew how to draw Annabel’s smile. The children always laughed at her clumsy drawings of them - but by the way they saved pictures of them, it seemed a fond thing, so she kept up the tradition. She was glad the cakes were received so well at all - before Rosalia had started in the KEY Program kitchen, the children didn’t get birthday cakes at all - this, of course, could not be allowed to continue.

“Hello!” Came the young prince’s voice. “Um, I’m here to pick up the stoneroot special? If it’s not ready, of course, that’s not a problem at all-”

“You’re all set, Your Highness,” Akari said, cutting off the prince.

“Ah! Right, I didn’t want to assume… thank you.” Rosalia glanced up as the boy grabbed the box, started to leave, then clumsily fished out some bills and handed them to Akari. Sweet little dear - he was a sheltered thing, and had only learned about tipping as a convention recently. A touch misplaced to tip the chef, but Rosalia fought it endearing.

Since she’d been working on the cake for a little while, she glanced up and around, taking a moment to check on the rich ramen broth and take in its smell. She’d gone deep into the spice vault to make it something special, and the smell was rich and strong, with a bit of a kick. Content, she returned to her three-layer cake - it came up to Rosalia’s neck from its place on the table, forcing her to use a stool to get proper ergonomics. She’d started on the repetitive task of drawing the Promethean Maples native to the area around Annabel’s hometown, but it would be perfect once she added the river. Oh, she couldn’t wait to see what little Anna would think!

“Rosalia? The broth’s boiling over.”

Rosalia started, then checked the pot. It was still simmering.

“Akari, that’s mean. The broth’s just fine!”

Akari scratched her head, frowning. Akari did that a lot - and Rosalia immediately felt bad for scolding her new coworker.

“Sorry,” Akari said, although it seemed like she wanted to say more. “Can you help me with Vaere’s to-go order? It’s quite a lot.”

“Oh my goodness, I was meant to have started that already, wasn’t I? I’m so sorry,” Rosalia said, shaking her head and hurrying towards one of the several stovetops.

“You and Luke,” Akari said, “and he’s nowhere to be seen. Funny how he always takes an extra day on rare ingredient runs.”

Akari had been on top of things from the day she’d first walked through the door. She also seemed anxious often, but Rosalia couldn’t tell what she might be worried about.

“Not to worry, I’ll take care it,” Rosalia said, sorting through meats. She pulled out bird covered in razor-sharp feathers - deepnight myrde, an apex predator that could kill anything with those feathers under the cover the deepnight forests. Working carefully with thick gloves, Rosalia started to shear the feathers off. They could be boiled into a broth, but you’d have to be very careful or they’d take off your finger. Rosalia always used a color-code with her pots for this reason, and with myrde feathers she’d add a special warning label besides. Soon, she had thin fillets of lean meat. With its beige going to deep purple coloration, it looked almost poisonous, but it was rich beyond belief once you cooked it up.

“He’ll be here in less than an hour - you’ll never make it,” Akari said. “Here - pass me a knife, miss.”

Rosalia complied with a grateful smile, and they worked alongside each other.

“No need to be so formal. Oh! You’re usually not so coarse, Akari. Is it that boy again?” Rosalia asked.

“That boy is the prince,” Akari retorted.

“Don’t worry so much. Of course I’ll show the ‘proper respect’ in public,” Rosalia giggled.

“I just think he should know to disregard us properly. Then, everyone can go on with their lives without worrying about what to do with random tips.”

“Miss Vale’s already said there’s no rule against taking tips, and it’s a small amount besides,” Rosalia said brightly. “I think he’s a sweet little thing. Besides, you know all the boys are just a little extra flustered around you.” Akari was perhaps the prettiest woman Rosalia knew. She had slightly curved black hair with a fine sheen, delicate features, confident composure, and the sort of curves boys seemed to obsess over. Akari was strong too, unlike her. With her twenties gone, Rosalia wasn’t as worried about watching her figure, and she felt delightfully comfortable in her own skin. Still, anyone who managed to stay in shape surrounded by decadent food had her respect.

Akari shrugged. She seemed to agree - probably, there was something else making Akari sensitive. She worked so very hard… Rosalia wasn’t quite sure what to do for her. Her birthday wasn’t for a while, but perhaps she could bake her a cake anyway.

“It’s not a big deal,” Akari said, already starting to make the marinade as she’d shown the girl just days ago. “You should be careful with that cake, though. If you set that as the standard for Annabel’s birthday, you’ll have a bunch of jealous little gossips on your hands when you can’t do three layers every time.”

“Why wouldn’t I do it for everyone? Cakes aren’t my specialty, but now that I’ve done it, this isn’t so hard…”

The little darlings didn’t have anyone else to make them a birthday cake. Their parents usually lived far away, especially for an out-of-province girl like Anna. If they were going to be protecting her - protecting everyone - when they served in the military, the least Rosalia could do was show them a little love now.

“Just make sure you have enough time in the day,” Akari said.

“Isn’t that a fun little pipe-dream,” Rosalia laughed lightly.

As Rosalia filleted, seasoned, and seared the bird, Akari took care of the sides. For Rosalia, it was companionable silence. But she misread the situation, sadly. When they were almost finished, Rosalia caught a look at Akari’s face - her skin was always a lighter peach shade, but now she was sickly pallid and sweating.

“Sit down, please. Oh, I’m so sorry I didn’t notice. Here, I’ll get you something to drink. Do you have any medications you need?”

Rosalia quieted down when she realized the attention only seemed to mortify Akari, who only apologized for her state but wouldn’t look her senior in the eye. Poor dear. She seems so distant, despite being a thoughtful young woman. How can I earn her trust?

Once she was convinced Akari would be alright, Rosalia finished up the meals - there wasn’t much left to do, thanks to Akari - and then, the two of them finished out the day. Her thoughts were more focused - completing the cake was easy, at this juncture, so now she had to think of what she could do for the peer right in front of her. No thought could be more worthwhile.

***

Here a few months, and already, Akari was soft. Her master had taught her better. And yet, she had been caught up in circular thoughts and worries that took her nowhere. She had finally landed a good job in the capital. She would excel here, meet everyone’s expectations, and bring her whole family to this place of safety and abundance. She thought this all wearily, without enthusiasm. It was an absurd long shot - just getting herself here had been difficult, and the cost of living in the capital city, Neveus, was exorbitant. Comparing to the wages of a laborer in the remote mining town where she grew up, the numbers didn’t add up. She’d need to have quite the savings to get her family started here - let alone ensure they could get good jobs and stay.

Her father wanted her to marry into one of the great families. Even a minor connection might pull them, siblings and aunts and uncles and cousins all, out of poverty. She’d hoped she’d be able to do it, but based on what she’d seen from the nobles so far, they were a conceited and hateful lot - and anyone who wasn’t that way probably had more important things to do than take an interest in her. The idea of a loveless marriage had worked Akari into such a fit of nausea that Rosalia started fussing over her. She wanted to be grateful - she wanted to talk about how much she admired Rosalia’s kindness towards everyone around her. However, thoughts of marriage sobered her. Akari felt that once she started talking honestly, all her feelings would come pouring out. She didn’t want to marry for money - she wanted Rosalia, or at least someone who was kind like her.

With this on her mind, Akari was at least two stages away from worrying about people like His Highness. If she thought about him too long, he’d really become a proper child in her mind. And if she saw that next to the bruises he wearily staggered in with all the time, Akari didn’t like the picture it painted.

She didn’t know what tormented the boy. Either he was unable to defend himself from his peers, or His Majesty pushed him too far in training. Either way, what good could it do to wear the prince down like that? Her darkest theory was that the boy was a sacrifice - an heir-to-be in name only, meant to attract assassins and reveal the King’s enemies. But she didn’t properly know - all this political maneuvering was beyond Akari. She really hoped she was wrong. Her peers didn’t seem to think much either way about the prince.

Besides her buried concern for the boy, Akari wanted things to be stable. The current king, despite being the Mad King’s heir, was… aggressively average. He could be counted on to show up for important events and give generic speeches, and while he was currently off fighting some war, he at least seemed to have enough presence t0 keep other important people from killing each other en-masse. Averting civil war was a low bar, but it was Akari’s only real concern. She knew better than expect a person with power to freely give anything. That said, if he didn’t know what he was doing and was unseated, the Xexens could do a lot worse than average. She did wonder, distantly, what happened to King Verox’s passion as the brilliant hero who had rebelled against the Mad King. But she did not have much time to daydreaming.

Akari’s head was still spinning when she left the restricted floors of the castle, headed for her flat on the lower floors. She passed the security gate on the ninth floor, then decided to take the stairs and ended up wandering the lower commons. A dazzling shopping mall, food court, augmented reality movies and all kinds of clubs - it was everything that she’d imagined it to be in her school days. And it was all hollow, as she walked through with no one to enjoy it with.

At this point I’m doing it to myself. Her loneliness was her own fault and she wasn’t going to meet her lofty financial goals by stressing herself to death. Sure, she’d left the comforts of home behind, but that was no excuse not to start anew. Hell, I could start by not giving the kid a hard time about his tips. If he wants to help me out, who am I to say no? She could think of 2nd jobs, marriages, and her cousin’s drug problem later. If she could just work up to the guts to ask Rosalia along for a show… well, the woman didn’t have a cruel bone in her body. If nothing else, Rosalia would come along and get excited on account of Akari’s own interest in the sights. Hell, even Luke and Meredith would be welcome company. Allan too, if he ever stopped working. Maybe she should text them? Luke might be back in a little while.

Reaching into her pants pocket, Akari didn’t feel her phone. Crap.

Unlawfully taken from Royal Road, this story should be reported if seen on Amazon.

She sighed, then turned and walked back to the security checkpoint. It wasn’t all bad, she reminded herself. She didn’t have Rosalia’s number yet, but maybe she could ask for it if her senior was still finishing up the cake. Reaching in her pocket, she fortunately did have her security badge, and she absentmindedly pulled it out and scanned it before walking through the gate.

Then, as she kept walking, she noticed in a mirror overhead that she was being followed. Two men she hadn’t seen before, walking nonchalantly, wearing suits as if as on a business trip. Their steps were quiet. She hadn’t heard them behind her. Hadn’t heard their ID badges scan.

Akari was probably just imaging things. She started to turn down the hall. A few steps away from the duo, though, and her mind was swimming with the possibilities. Annoying HR training that she’d just gotten a couple of months ago. Social engineering. Tailgating. Bypassing defenses. It wasn’t like HR really cared about security - and even the security team didn’t have anyone at the checkpoint, even though they were meant to. She really shouldn’t worry about it this much. She knew her therapist would tell her that. Akari turned around anyway - and swore under her breath when the duo was already out of sight.

This put her anxious mind in a tough spot. She didn’t want to speak up and lose her job over nothing. But if it was her fault that something horrible happened…

The camera room! It’d been mentioned during her orientation. If she just headed there, they could confirm whether the two had badged in. Allan should be on shift by now - Akari didn’t know him that well, but he didn’t seem like the kind of person to report her over something like this.

Anxious energy pushing her on, Akari climbed a couple of flights of stairs and knocked on the office door. She didn’t have badge access. But with her hard knock, the door swung open.

“Allan?” Akari asked, stepping inside. Right there were the two men, the two intruders, standing beside a limp Allen with their eyes fixed on her.

Somehow, the first thing Akari felt was relief. For once, she didn’t feel crazy. For once, what she had to do was clear. And while she wasn’t some super prodigy like the children she served, her master had taught her everything - how to cook, how to live, how to fight.

Her body erupted with an aura of green flames as she rushed in to protect her coworker - and the room was enveloped in a haze of magical darkness.

***

Akari was engulfed in thick, inky darkness, but it didn’t quite reach her skin. Her fire gave her around a meter of visibility. She would only have a moment to react to attacks, so she readied her gear.

A shaft of vaguely violet darkness shot through where her head had just been, defensive flames incinerating what would have split her cheek - leaving her unharmed but for the mana cost. At the same moment, both enemies lunged, their suited forms swinging a longsword and two knives.

“Vaporize!”

Heat flowed out of her hand and into a glass pod - a self-defense compression storage tool. It shattered, shooting out a wave of pressurized steam. As she moved in the sudden cloud, immune to its heat, the blades went wide. The knife-user passed to the far side of the cloud, but before he could retreat back to the darkness, she snapped her fingers and a bluish glow flew towards him.

“Cobalt Spark,” Akari said with rage.

Primal power rushed through her and stabilized her rushed spell as she called its name. As soon as the almost imperceptible bead of light touched the man, he erupted in blue flames, roaring with pain as he retreated back into the darkness. His partner was already gone, but that was fine. Akari had to get to Allan before they thought to use him as a hostage. She closed the distance in a moment, but just as she reached him, the swordsman struck. No matter - she’d already been chanting a spell.

“Spell: Oxygen Updraft. Expand Area. Double velocity.”

Akari used her master’s casting syntax, sacrificing a little bit of efficiency for speed. As the man’s sword rushed into view, she finished, “Close spellcast.”

Heat surged through the floor, forcing the air in the room up in an audible rush. The sword, lifting by the rush, missed her by a hair. At the same time, the blue flames eating away at the coward in the shadows surged, consuming him. “Flame Lance!” Forcing her limits with repeated casts, Akari forged a spear of pure flame and thrust at the swordsman. It pierced him heart - but the moment it did, the figure exploded into a cacophany of disfigured men wailing and impossible lights and geometries. The Chaotic Illusion spell? Damn! Akari disregarded the chaos the best she could, closing the last of the distance as a bright monitor came into view - with Allan laying on the ground under his workstation. Akari draped Allan over one arm, relief at his breathing a small balm to her increasing panic.

Ordinarily, a crude illusion would be easy to discern, but the low light made that more difficult since she could only see her enemy in the moment they attacked. The combination was terrifying - even though she’d already incinerated his companion, the swordsman was clearly the deadlier of the two. The conclusion was simple - she had to get out of the room, out of the darkness, immediately. Then she could call for help, and everyone would be okay. Akari didn’t consider herself a patriot. If she was honest with herself, she thought taking a bunch of children and grooming them to be soldiers was unforgivable. She trained because it was a choice to help herself and her family survive, not because some noble had an ambition for her. There was dignity in that. But while she wouldn’t be caught dead in some invasion force on another world, Akari did have some vague sense of loyalty to this castle. People she liked - people she cared about - lived here - and surely there were plenty more like them throughout the floors and throughout the city. Whatever these psychopaths wanted here, she wouldn’t let them have it. Not a damn chance.

It was that fire that kept her strong as she ran for the door, watching for attacks. The first came as another swordsman. Real or fake - she had a moment to decide. She let its sword pass right through her head, her breath nearly catching. She’d read him right. He didn’t want to take a chance of getting burned like his partner. The next attack was the knife user, not a single burn on him. The illusion was obvious, and she…!

Akari twisted at the last moment, catching the knife on her arm’s green flame. Blood. Pain. The wound was shallow thanks to defensive aura of green flames, but her vision swam, and she fought to keep her footing. Poison - and a resilient one, to not be burned up in Pyreheart immediately. Gritting her teeth, Akari punched with the other arm, sending the man sailing into the darkness. A physical illusion? No, more likely a clone technique… This was exactly what dark mages wanted. To keep their opponent in suspense, guessing, confused, coming to the wrong conclusions. Too many possibilities, too little time. Akari ran for the door, crossing the last of the distance. Once she exited the cloud -

The light of a wide monitor entered her vision. After a moment’s hesitation, she realized where she was - back where she’d picked up Allan. Dimensional distortion? Delirium? She didn’t have the time - or mental bandwidth - to figure out what had gone wrong. In this moment, her mind was shockingly calm. Leaving was no longer an option. Really, she probably should have run in the first place. But she had decided to protect Allan. Her poured her mana aggressively into Pyreheart, giving herself an expanded line of sight as green flames raged. She would see her decision through - and kill these two here. Then, as they lunged out of the darkess again, she realized something. She could still feel her Cobalt Spark’s fire burning through her connection to the spell. So, the knife-user was certainly using a clone technique. But the other implication was far more important.

Akari threw another dimensionally compressed water pod, superheating it with Vaporize. The steam cloud forced the two in opposite directions, and Akari flickered towards the knife user. Break the nose. Knock the wind out of him. Grab the weapon. Stab through the neck. The clones had form, but were weak. Then, his ally was upon her. Backfist through the head. Illusion! Another swordsman darted out of the shadows, blade flashing. It passed through her harmlessly. Akari only had to wait another moment for the real one to emerge - he was unmistakably solid, with sword held in one hand and the blackheart spell glimmering with inverse light in the other. They moved at the same time. Akari parried the sword with her stolen knife, then sent the man flying with a punch at the same time her Blackheart grazed her neck. Pyreheart kept her mostly safe, but the same couldn’t be said for the swordsman as he landed where the original clone was still burning with blue fire in the darkness. It was too easy - but she wasn’t about to question a boon as the flames resonated with Akari’s strongest spell.

“Fireworks!”

The blue flame sucked in all the air in the area and detonated with power, blue flames burning away the darkness all around them for a moment. She could see the exit - and both the clone and the swordsman were annihilated in that single moment. Now, to find the one making clones -

How?

Akari saw the blade of dark energy coming out of her chest from behind before she felt any pain from it. That clone user was weak - he couldn’t have moved that quickly. Even as a moment passed, the pain didn’t come. All she felt was shocked. Shocked, but also tired. So very, very tired. It was like Rosalia said. She had worked… so hard. Maybe it was… time for some rest. Akari closed heavy eyes, sinking into the darkness.

***

Alven dispelled his Blackheart, allowing the woman to slump to the ground. He gave her a small nod of acknowledgement. She clearly didn’t have any overpowering bloodline abilities, yet she’d still made an absolute mess of things for him.

“Nice try,” he said with amusement, “but this is the limit for those of us without talent in this world.” Alven looked down to the back of Akari’s head as she lay prone, as if conversing with her. He knelt down, a conspiratorial grin on his face as he whispered in her ear. “Unless you cheat. That’s my trick.”

Virus walked out of the cloud of shadow into the small pocket of light Alven allowed, a deep grimace over his face.

“Quit fucking around. Do you realize the kind of trouble we’re in? We’re in the middle of the Keep’s secure floors. Anyone walks in? We’re dead. Anyone sees this shit? We’re dead.”

Alven held up a single finger to forestall Virus’ objections. He really did take the fun out of being a villain.

“Don’t you know to be quiet when a writer is working on his story? Don’t you realize how easy it is for a perfect idea to lapse out of the mind?” Alven said, tapping his head.

“You shouldn’t be so cozy just because the Void spell covers up sound and light. Anyone looking at the mess of that explosion will know something went down here, and even if we’re far away when they find it, they’ll look at cameras and timestamps. It’ll be a shitstorm.”

Alven held his nonexistent beard for a long, contemplative moment. The hacker could get into any building and take down any system. Alven had thought working with the man would be a delight - he certainly didn’t think he’d be this dull. Alven would have to enlighten him.

“My good man,” Alven said, standing and gesturing expensively, “I’m surprised an infiltrator like you isn’t acquainted with the fine art of telling stories. I’ve been thinking, despite your distractions, and now I’ve got it. You see, the star of our story is this lovely dear-” almost reverently, Alven turned Akari over and found the badge hanging from her belt, “Akari! Akari is the star of the show - and the sole person responsible for this unfortunate, wanton destruction of property.”

“And they’re going to believe that when they find a corpse?” Virus said, tapping his foot impatiently. Alven could tell for certain, then, that the real Virus wasn’t here at all. If he was, he’d be running at this point. As it was, the only person who faced the worst-case-scenario was Alven. That was fine. Alven had the perfect story.

“A corpse?” Alven said with a small laugh. “Surely you don’t think I’m that sloppy. No, I used a thin blade - and a little trick. She’s just unconscious. I wasn’t going to kill her after you gave me the perfect opening.”

“It’s just common sense,” Virus said with a bored expression. “Make a clone that looks like the strong guy and they’ll put too much focus on it. Layer that with the two fakes you sent in at the end? No one’s going to figure it out fast enough.”

“And it’ll be the same with this scene,” Alven said, pulling out a short syringe from his jacket pocket. “Poor Akari wasn’t doing so well at work. You can see the bags under her eyes. So like so many of her generation, she turned to a little… chemical encouragement. Unfortunately, the drug that she purchased was a little bit… compromised, as it so often is.” Alven gestured to the poison on Virus’ knife as he said this, and the man grunted his acknowledgment. It was good cover for the otherwise hard to explain poison in her veins. As Alven gave Akari the injection, he continued explaining.

“Then, in a manic state, she came to try to fetch one of her colleagues, hoping he might know what she could do. But the effects were already upon her. Delirium, an additive to many party drugs, has been known to make people lose control of their magical abilities temporarily. The worst cases have been… catastrophic. When her superiors discover this scene, they won’t be worrying about perpetrators; they’ll be worrying about liability and lawsuits. Where did she get the drugs from? That sort of thing. At that point they’ll chalk the other wounds up to domestic abuse or self-harm - I’ll let them have their pick,” Alven said. The deed done, Alven put away the syringe. “All I need from you is to erase us both from the footage several minutes ago, so that we never walked into this room. Put in a backdoor so you can clean up the footage of the way out later.”

“You know an awful lot about my tricks,” Virus grumbled, but he set to work on the terminal.

“I’ve got a good network,” Alven said fondly. “Now, for an alibi - care for a drink in Lower Commons after this?”

“Eyes on the prize, clown. We got distracted - I’ve still got a lot to do. For your part - I can bump you way up and guarantee an interview for a gig up here in the secure floors, but actually getting the job is up to you.”

“Yes, yes, I read my emails,” Alven said with a shrug. “Don’t you worry - I can be very persuasive when I need to be.” And Alven did need to be. He would drag the King to hell.