One Week ago.

Her sister needed her.

That was the thought that ran relentlessly throughout Fenneth’s mind, driving her to act and fueling an endless amount of anxiety that threatened to crush her fragile heart beneath its weight.

She had to be there for Laurel.

She had to save Laurel.

No, that was wrong. That was completely incorrect.

She had to save her sister so she could apologize to her.

The last time she’d ever spoken to Laurel, she’d lashed out at her out of a frustrated sense of entitlement. She’d blamed Laurel for leaving her behind to seek freedom, forcing Fenneth to take on her sister’s discarded role. To become the new Maiden of the holy blade.

That had been completely unfair of her. Laurel was a kind woman who’d sacrificed her personal happiness for years due to her powerful sense of responsibility. Her commitment to her duty. She’d suffered far more than Fenneth ever had, and yet Fenneth had refused to see things from her perspective and instead driven her away on what had turned out to be the last day they'd ever see each other.

Why had she done that? Why hadn’t she tried to reconcile with her as soon as she’d returned to life? Why had she let herself be distracted by her grievances with Everly and her own selfish urge to play and relax when she knew the harm that Everly was causing?

Why was she such a terrible person?

She and James stood hidden behind the cover of trees outside an old nondescript-looking estate that had been built on the outskirts of the capital. Here was where her companion claimed Everly kept her most valuable prisoners away from the sight and sympathy of the public. This was the place where Laurel awaited her.

I’m coming sister. I promise I won’t let you down this time, she vowed.

Beneath the mail armor that James provided for her, Fenneth could feel nervous sweat trickling down her body, as she impatiently waited to act. What had they been doing to the people in there? Probably torturing them. Taunting them. Breaking their wills through degradation and violence to force them into compliance with the new regime.

Anything was possible in this awful new world.

Anything.

The floor had yet to be discovered when it came to the question of how low Everly could sink.

“James, I’m sorry,” she suddenly decided. “I can’t wait any longer.”

“Huh?” he asked in surprise. “Uh, what?”

“I said I’m not waiting anymore,” she said as she unsheathed the sword he’d given her. “Laurel needs me. I’m not going to let her waste away in that place for another moment.”

“But Lady Fenneth, didn’t we decide to wait until nightfall? So that we could have the element of surprise?”

“I refuse,” she said. “I will not sneak through the dark in order to see justice done. Like my sister before me, I will conduct myself with honor and courage. Let any who dare oppose me do so in the light of day.”

“Lady Fenneth!” James shouted as Fenneth began marching directly towards the manor, weapon in hand. “Lady Fenneth!” he repeated. But she ignored his cries, determined as she was to see Laurel again.

It didn’t take long for her opposition to reveal itself.

“Hey. Hey!” yelled one of the men dressed in the black armor of Everly’s followers. “Put that weapon away and identify yourself at once. State your name and your business!”

Fenneth ignored him and continued walking closer to the entrance, which displeased the guard, who cursed loudly and trotted after her to catch up.

“Hey, I said to identify yourself,” he said in a harder tone of voice as he attempted to grab her arm to halt her. “Are you listening to me—”

His words were cut off immediately when Fenneth spun and swung her sword.

As was his head.

After his body collapsed, Fenneth spared a single moment to look at what she’d done. She regretted it immediately. In her brief career as the holy maiden, she’d successfully exorcised a handful of demons and slain a few monsters as well. But this was the first time she’d ever killed a fellow human being.

Her heart ached at the sight of his ruined body.

He was a child once, she thought. A baby. He was blind, ignorant, and afraid, and the only thing he could do was instinctively seek the safety of his mother’s embrace. He cried, and laughed, and played. Then he grew into adulthood and now I have killed him. All his possibilities are gone forever, all because of me and my sword.

I’m so sorry.

Crying now, she resumed her march as dozens of black armored warriors came pouring out of the estate, shouting at her to toss aside her weapon and surrender. Instead of obeying, she gripped it tighter and ran forth to meet them.

“Arrrghh!” screamed one as the edge of her sword took his eyes. As he sank to his knees, sobbing in pain as blood and viscous fluids leaked from his maimed eyesockets, Fenneth lashed out with a fist and crushed his throat.

A forward thrusting kick was delivered with enough power to smash another man’s spine entirely, killing him where he stood.

A lower wide swing separated another man’s legs from his body at the knees, leaving him to wail miserably as he tried to stop the bleeding. His cries were silenced when Fenneth brought her boot down on his head and smeared it into the grass at her feet.

Each blow she delivered was done with killing intent. But none of them possessed anger. What she did was done out of a tortured need to save others. The feelings of horror and remorse that she now drowned in; these were the reasons she had never wanted to become a warrior.

Not because she feared battle.

But because she knew she’d be too good at it. Better than anyone else at a profession that revolted her to her very core. That filled her with shame and self-hatred.

Fenneth had always wanted to save lives. To preserve them. To bring healing and peace. She wanted to give selflessly of herself to others, she wanted to believe that life was a sacred gift, and that people could learn to accept and trust each other.

She wanted to mend divisions. Not to rend flesh.

But here she was. A bull on parade, covered in the blood of those who couldn’t defend themselves from her onslaught. No different from monsters like her cousin Sara, or even worse…

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…Everly.

More warriors ran to oppose her. More suffered and died. More lives were trampled beneath her feet as she sought her goal.

This is for my sister, she sobbed. And she killed.

This is for my sister, she sobbed. And she killed.

This is for my sister, she sobbed. And she killed.

This is for my sister, she sobbed…

And sobbed…

__

In the midst of Fenneth’s rampage, Discordia tried to calm her mistress. Tried to sooth her fraying spirit, to let her know that she was still a good person despite what she was doing. But most importantly, she tried to urge her to stop.

These actions were against everything that made Fenneth who she was. Even in the name of saving Lady Laurel and reuniting with her, it wouldn’t be worth it if she had to stain herself with blood to do it.

It was no mark against her character to say that. Not everyone was suited for the ravages of battle. Fenneth cared for others too much. She was a gentle soul not meant for the ugly realities of this life. She simply couldn’t take lives and remain herself.

This would have been obvious for anyone who truly knew her.

Discordia had to stop her. She simply had to.

But it was impossible.

Something prevented her words from reaching Fenneth’s mind.

Her mistress couldn’t hear her.

Lady Fenneth, please stop! Discordia tried to say. Lady Fenneth, I’m begging you, please don’t do this anymore! This isn’t what you want! This isn’t who you are!

But despite her pleading, Discordia’s words fell on deaf ears. Fenneth continued to fight, and her opponents continued to die, and no one knew how much her lady suffered for her victories, except her terrified elemental.

“I have to do this,” Fenneth began whispering. “I have to do this.”

Fenneth, why won’t you listen to me? asked the desperate Discordia.

Behind them, walked James. Discordia saw with some surprise that he’d removed his helmet and was quietly watching Fenneth. He offered no assistance nor words of encouragement. He simply stared blankly as she killed and walked silently behind her as she preceded him throughout the building.

Was he struck silent by the ease with which her mistress killed? Had terror muted his voice?

No. That wasn’t the case at all. The expression on his face was faint but Discordia soon recognized it. It was expectation.

He’d expected this to happen! He’d known how Fenneth would react!

But if that was so, then why?

Why was he letting her destroy herself like this?

What was going on?

That was when Discordia realized that some of the black knights were now attempting to avoid Fenneth entirely. Instead, they ran directly to James and began begging him to make her stop. They approached him without fear even though he was supposedly an enemy combatant.

They knew him.

They knew him!

Fenneth, please! Please! I’m begging you to stop, cried Discordia. Can’t you see? He’s betrayed you! This is a trap! Fenneth, use your eyes! Fenneth please hear me!

But Fenneth would not, could not respond. Instead, she killed the knights who pleaded with James. Although he wore a pained expression of regret, Discordia could see his eyes. His gaze held no true emotion. These poor fools had trusted him, and he was discarding them without an ounce of regret.

This was his scheme.

Gods blight your damned soul, you treacherous bastard, Discordia hissed hatefully at him. May you receive what you have delivered, ten times tenfold, while knowing you deserve worse!

“Discordia,” James said. “The only thing I deserve is peace and happiness.”

The elemental couldn’t believe what she’d heard. He could speak to her? He could hear her words? That was impossible! Only a speaker could commune with an elemental. A speaker like Lady Fenneth or Everly.

Who was this man?

“Someone who was wronged,” he said. “Someone who is fighting for his place in this world. Someone who will have what he is due. Now stay quiet, please. If you really love Fenneth, then you’ll stay with her until the end.”

The end? Discordia asked him. What did that mean? What was he talking about? Who’s end? What was about to happen?

Ahead of them ran Fenneth down a long series of hallways, kicking open each door that she passed and staring inside.

Each room contained a single occupant.

All of whom thus far had been dead.

Every single one of them.

“LAUREL!” screamed Fenneth as the panic truly began to set in.

No, no, no, no, Discordia wept as she struggled to keep pace with her.

Behind them, the Ashen Knight clasped his hands together as if in prayer and followed behind them. “I did nothing wrong here. I did nothing wrong here. I did nothing wrong here,” he murmured to himself, as he walked past the remnants of those who’d believed his lies.

None of them had believed those lies as fervently as he had.

He never doubted himself.

“I did nothing wrong here,” he continued with grace and humility.

There at the final door, Fenneth found her.

Laurel looked so peaceful. As though she were sleeping and at any moment might pop awake and playfully tousle Fenneth’s hair like she did when Fenneth was a child.

What did it mean to have a sister like Laurel? Someone who was brave, and compassionate. Someone who followed her duty, but also believed in the strength of her own heart. Someone who loved and was loved, and above all other things, someone who encouraged others to believe in the possibility of a better world.

It meant a lot.

It really meant a lot.

The moment she saw her sister lying on the floor of this darkened cell, something broke inside Fenneth. Something disconnected itself from her and floated away. Something precious that would never return.

It was her fault.

It was all her fault.

She was the one who’d left Everly. Who’d defied her. Who mocked her.

And how had Everly responded?

She taken away Laurel.

Forever.

“I’m sorry,” Fenneth said in an empty, broken voice as she hugged the body. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I did this. I caused this. I made her mad and she did this to you. I’m sorry, Laurel. I love you, Laurel. I’m sorry Laurel. I love you, Laurel.”

“Liar,” said a cruel voice.

Fenneth looked up blankly, and stared at James as he entered the cell.

“James,” Fenneth said, lost, dazed, shattered. A child in a woman’s body, trying to prove her sincerity. “James, I didn’t lie. James, I’m so sorry.”

“Liar,” he repeated. “Murderer.”

“I didn’t want this,” she said pitifully.

“You let it happen,” he said. “You wanted it to happen. You’re grateful that it happened.”

“I’m not,” she said, shaking her head ferociously. “No, I’m not. I’m not. I’m not I’m not I’m not.”

“Everly kept her here for so long. Starving her. Hurting her. Telling her it was because you wouldn’t let her love you,” he said coldly. “Why did you do that, Fenn? Why couldn’t you just accept what you were given? Did you think you were better than her?”

“Noooo,” she said in the miserable whine of a frightened child.

“Yes, you did,” he said. “Look at how easily you killed all those men. Slaughtered them, really. Easy peasy for Lady Fenn. You could have saved Laurel whenever you wanted. But you didn’t. Because this is what you wanted to happen. MURDERER.”

“Noooo,” she wept.

“Yes,” he said again as he knelt and hugged her.

“I’m sorry,” she cried.

“I believe you,” he said as he stroked her hair.

“I didn’t want this to happen.”

“Maybe you didn’t,” he said.

“I’d do anything to make this right,” she said.

“Anything?” he asked her.

“I just want this pain to stop,” she whispered.

James took her hands and stared at her for a time. Then he gently said, “Do you really mean that, Fenn?”

With dazed, honest eyes, and a mind clouded with pain and grief, Fenneth nodded.

“I can help you with that, Fenn. I can make it all go away. But you have to do as I say, first. Exactly as I say. Can you do that?” he asked her softly.

“Please make it stop,” she wept.

“Fenn,” James said quietly. “Listen to me carefully. Can you do that?”

“Yes,” she nodded.

“Fenneth, I want you to repeat after me. I want you to say, Status.”

“Status,” said Fenneth.

“Good,” James said. “Fenneth, I want you to put your hand on the screen that you’re seeing right now. Put your hand right above it, okay? Are you doing it right now?”

“Yes,” said Fenneth as she held her hand out over an object that only she could see. “I see it. I’m doing it. What do I do next?”

“Fenneth,” he continued. “I want you to close your eyes tightly, and I want you to think these two words. Say them in your mind as forcefully as you can, and this will all go away. I promise it will. Are you ready?”

“I’m ready,” she whimpered.

After a moment’s pause, he said, “Say, delete character.”

Fenneth whispered those words and repeated them in her mind.

A moment later, she collapsed. And the air was filled with Discordia’s helpless wailing.

The Ashen Knight caught Fenn’s body as it collapsed and gently held her in his arms. She was now lifeless. An empty vessel. Not even a spirit in the afterlife.

Gone.

Deleted.

“Goodbye, Fenneth,” he said.

Next, he said, “It’s done.”

A wave of light crashed into the room, engulfing them both in its brilliance before being absorbed by Fenneth’s body. A moment after it faded, she opened her eyes and sat up.

She gazed upon the night and smiled warmly. Her eyes had become a radiant hue of blue that nothing human could possibly possess. When she spoke, the reverberations of her voice could be felt in a person’s soul.

When Fenneth stood up, she floated. Her feet would no longer touch the base earth.

Before her, the Ashen Knight knelt.

“Your sacrifice has been received,” said the Hymn of Absolute Virtue.

“It was for the greater good,” he whispered.

“The greatest possible good,” she agreed.

“Can this world be saved?” he asked her.

“I am here. Of course it will be,” she informed him.

“Then I’ve committed no sin,” he said with a lighter heart.

The Hymn said nothing in reply.

END OF BOOK 3