Memories. What good were memories if one couldn’t remember them? What defined a person if the memories that shaped them suddenly vanished and they were left with merely an inkling of their true purpose and no idea why any of it was unfolding before their eyes? What happened when those same memories came back in a rush of fiery anguish with no time to reconcile with the truth?

Mayor Undrey Penh sat alone in his large chair in the main room of the mansion. The visitors from Asyrema City had gone to check their horses and carriage atop the lift that was tethered to the edge of town. Those same visitors—one in particular—strode about as if they had nothing to do with the demise of Mayor Penh’s family only three years prior: Tamerond Blake—a liar, a snake, a backstabbing, arrogant, privileged son of a wretch. The mayor had thought about vengeance ever since his life back in Blokravn came back to him. How he’d forgotten was beyond him. His wife, his children. They’d been taken from him not once, but twice.

He’d pondered the best way to kill Tamerond. The deputy commander wore full armor from head to toe. A blade would not pierce the thick metal unless it were made of dragonsteel or heated by a battery, or he took him by surprise. None of which were possible since he didn’t have dragonsteel or a battery-blade nor was he the stealthiest of men. Buckshot wouldn’t do either, not even at close range. It was enough to deter the crocodile man, but the small pellets had been more of an annoyance than anything. That was when he recalled how the mapmaker had killed the beast, the weapon that had tore through its thick hide like a pen through paper.

Water spilled down from the hole in the ceiling in uneven splashes as the entire mansion bobbed to either side ever so slightly. The great storm had once again brought the flood that had nearly killed them all a year ago. ‘Tis the season, he thought to himself over and over again. Several solar lamps were ensconced about the room, giving off a soft glow. Their batteries were fully charged, but he’d dimmed them to the point where his eyes still needed to adjust in order to see properly. He waited.

After an eternity, the front door opened and William Yitlin strode in, wiping his eyes and speaking to Tamerond who stalked in behind him, his boots thudding against the wood floor, his sword clinking upon his metal hip.

“I cannot believe this place. The amount of water is simply astonishing. I’ve never seen anything like it. Brings back fond memories of when I wasn’t behind a desk all day. Are you sure you don’t want to invite your men inside? I doubt the mayor would mind.”

“They have their orders, William. A little water won’t kill them,” Tamerond said. He walked through the hall and into the main room to peer out of a window and didn’t see Mayor Penh sitting in his chair, or if he did, he didn’t show it.

“I just feel bad is all. They’re here on my behalf. I feel somewhat responsible for their well-being.”

“Just like you feel responsible for this Ian Merstellar,” Tamerond mocked. “The sooner you realize that people make their own beds to sleep in, the sooner you’ll overcome the unnecessary burden of worrying over what you can’t control. Worry about your own well-being, William, because when you reach for a falling man, they pull you down with them.”

“Well, that’s not very sympathetic, now is it? Aren’t you in charge of an entire battalion, or something?” William asked.

“Almost,” Tamerond said.

Cursing, William fumbled around in the hall. “Why is it so dark in here? Where are the dials for these lamps? I can’t find—”

A low hum whirred to life in the main room and the subsequent glow emanated from the back wall where the large chair was positioned. Tamerond turned to see the illuminated mayor pointing a lightbow at him. Casting long shadows upward, the trophies mounted above him snarled, their teeth a shining unnatural white.

“What in the Emperor's name do you think you’re doing?” William asked.

“What I should’ve done years ago,” the mayor said.

“Mayor Penh, if you put down that weapon now, I’m sure whatever’s troubling you can be deliberated and any charges for threatening an Empyrean officer can be dropped, aren’t I right, Tamerond? No one has to know—”

“Shut up, William,” Tamerond Blake said.

Penh scowled. “Take off that helmet and let me see your smug face before I kill you, Tamerond.”

Tamerond hesitated, then did as instructed, removing the helmet and letting it drop to the floor with a heavy thud. Underneath was not the face of the man that led the troops in Blokravn, but a new face, warped beyond recognition. Mayor Penh wasn’t sure if he’d seen this face, or if he had, the memory of it had been erased along with the deaths of his family.

“Almighty, I had no idea,” William whispered.

“Is this what you wanted to see?”

“You’ll get no sympathy from me, murderer,” Mayor Penh growled.

“Your sympathy is the last thing I want,” Tamerond spat, stepping forward. Undrey Penh raised the weapon, halting Tamerond next to the shredded sofa. “When William reached out and mentioned that the Undrey Penh was begging for help down in the swamps, I couldn’t resist. I just had to see how far the mighty investor of Blokravn had fallen. And my, oh, my, have you hit rock bottom. At first, I thought you’d gone raving mad when you didn’t recognize me. But something must have clicked. Tell me, what changed?”

“I remember everything you did. That’s what changed,” Penh growled.

“You expect me to believe that. What’s really going on here, Penh? Why do my men complain of headaches? Why do I feel like my mind is being scrambled from the inside out? Small details seem to evade my recollection, and I’ll have you know that small details are my specialty. Do you even know what you’ve stumbled into down here in the swamp? You don’t. Because you’re not a critical thinker. As soon as I saw that hooded woman, I knew she wasn’t one of yours. She and the fugitive boy are a part of this. What are you hiding?”

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“You do know I’m going to kill you, right?” Penh said. “These are your last chosen words? Babbling out a bunch of meaningless questions as if I’d want to engage in scholarly debate with the likes of you.”

William Yitlin eyed the front door in preparation for an escape. He wanted to stay, but just long enough to see how this would play out. It was partly why he’d traveled all this way. He’d received the accusatory letters from Undrey Penh detailing Tamerond Blake’s involvement in the terrorist attack on Blokravn over two years ago, and had wondered ever since if they held any merit. Then the letters from Penh devolved into drivel about supplies for the establishment of Yonledo and never made further mention of the Blokravn incident. So when the opportunity arose to send Ian Merstellar down to investigate, he took it, not anticipating the events that would follow that put the young boy’s life in harm’s way. Tamerond was his first pick when seeking out an armed escort, the drama between him and Undrey Penh too much of an enticing opportunity to let slip by.

“You’re going to kill me? In front of an eye witness? Doubt it, Penh. Just like I doubt you even know why you’re upset in the first place.”

“The blood of my entire family is on your hands. You knew the terrorists were plotting an attack, and you did nothing to stop them. You let them go through with it. I know this because Richta told me everything. He was there in the room when you made the decision to stand down, when you derailed the operation to squash them in the foothills of Tyvandoll.”

“Richta Ohvlan?! That man has conspired against me since the beginning. He’s here in Yonledo, isn’t he? Filling your head with conspiracies and half-truths. I bet he didn’t tell you that he disobeyed a direct order and was the one that initially put us all in the crosshairs of those nihilistic bombers. More of us would have died if it were not for my decision to keep my troops safe first and foremost.”

Mayor Penh stood from the chair, keeping the lightbow leveled on Tamerond. The mansion swayed to the side and he made sure to offset his weight to accommodate the wave passing underneath them. He noticed the deputy commander had placed a hand on the hilt of his blade, anticipating the need to strike. Rain water from the hole fell at an angle as the mansion swayed, pinging Tamerond’s metallic shoulder plate like drops hitting the bottom of a tin can. He didn’t seem to notice.

“Don’t spin the truth to fit whatever story is inside your head,” the mayor yelled. “You know you're guilty just like everyone else knows it. Just like everyone knows that crocodiles attack people in the swamp.” William nodded at that. “Whether you knew about the blasts or not, you were in charge. You were supposed to keep us safe. I paid you to keep us safe. I needed you to keep us safe. Why did you let them kill my family?!”

“I needed them to attack first, you blasted idiot,” Tamerond Blake shouted. “If I’d led a thousand troops into the wilderness to hunt them down, don’t you think more people would’ve joined their cause? The terrorists would’ve been the victims. Don’t you see? The story is the truth. It always has been and it always will be. But people like you are too blind to see the bigger picture, too naïve to see that sacrifices need to be made in order to maintain the Empire. Without the backing of Asyrema City, the Stewards would still be picking us off one by one with no end in sight.” Tamerond remembered William was still listening from the shadows, but it no longer mattered. He’d made up his mind several hours ago. He just hadn’t been sure of how it would all play out. Grinning at the thought of it finally coming to pass, he leaned in to Undrey Penh and pointed at his own face. “A few burns was worth it. I regret none of it. Honestly, I relish it. You should be thanking me for what it made you, mayor. Otherwise, you wouldn’t be the man you are today.”

Mayor Penh was shaking with rage. His palms were sweaty and his finger tightened on the trigger. His mouth hung open and when he yelled, spittle shot out. “Thanking you?! I-I can’t believe—”

The mansion rocked to the side with a great crash sending all of the furnishings sliding across the floor. Cracks split the floorboards and water pulsed up through the crevices like blood pumping through an open chest wound. Whatever hit them must’ve been big, but Penh only saw red and cared not for the damage to his mansion. Once he regained his balance, he aimed the lightbow and fired.

Tamerond leaned hard to the side when he saw the flash of hot steel rocket toward him. A loud sound of metal on metal rang out. Warmth filled the inside of his armor on the right side, but he was still alive, still breathing. It had merely grazed the top of his shoulder, or so he thought at the time. He felt no pain, likely due to the rush of shock and excitement. The gold-hilted blade left its sheath almost as fast as the bolt shot from the lightbow.

Mayor Penh had no time to react. Tamerond Blake closed the short distance between them like a man who’d trained all his life for this very thing, and Tamerond very well had. The blade struck true. William looked away, then fled from the mansion out into the rain. The mayor looked down at his midsection. He didn’t feel anything. Just empty inside. He saw the faces of his wife and two children and remembered all the moments he’d spent with them. He cherished those moments as he wobbled back into his massive chair and sat down hard, the framework slightly protesting his weight. Two children? He had three, did he not? Then he saw another face in his mind’s eye, the face of a young man who’d been his scribe for well over a year. Tyvno Marsden-Penh. The mayor had forgotten his wife’s son. He’d been killed by a crocodile and Penh hadn’t even batted an eye at his loss.

“Tyvno? How could I have forgotten him?” Mayor Penh said, looking up at Tamerond. “I forgot him. I forgot our son. I’m…a monster.”

“Yeah, yeah, aren’t we all,” Tamerond said, pulling his sword out of the mayor’s stomach. Mayor Undrey Penh’s head lulled to the side. Tamerond turned to deal with the only other witness, but William was gone, the front door flapping open in the wind.

The deputy commander searched through the jumbled mess of the shaken room and found his helmet, placing it on once more. When he straightened and could see out of the eye slit, he noticed one of his men standing motionless in the hall.

“You there, find William Yitlin. I need to speak with him,” Tamerond said.

The man didn’t respond. Had he seen his face? Or was he surprised to see the mayor dead upon his false throne? “Don’t make me repeat myself, soldier. That’s an order.”

The soldier snapped out of whatever trance he’d been in. He spoke slowly, “I saw someone run upstairs. They could be the one you’re looking for.”

Tamerond gritted his teeth as he sheathed his sword, the pain from his shoulder wound flaring up for the first time. He craned his neck in order to assess the severity of it, but could only make out the hole where the bolt had melted through. “Go on ahead. I need to take care of something real quick. I’ll be right behind you.”

The soldier nodded and left the deputy commander to tend to his wound in the presence of his small victory. No more threats from afar. No more sleepless nights fraught with looping nightmares of mobs tearing him limb from limb. No more Undrey Penh. Tamerond smiled at that thought, then immediately frowned when he remembered Richta Ohvlan and William Yitlin.

“Cut one thread and two more unravel,” he growled. “I’ll have my peace yet.”