The sound of chaotic footsteps came from every direction, and I couldn’t tell which were friend or foe.

A quick glance over my shoulder showed that the ones following us did not look friendly in the slightest. And they were gaining on us.

Our path quickly lead to a three way split: forward, left or right. I hesitated at the fork, but felt Hazel’s firm grip in my forearm as she pulled me down the path going right. The ground started tipping upward as we ran, leading us closer to the surface.

After a short time, Hazel turned and dipped into an open doorway, pulling me inside with her. It took a moment for my eyes to adjust to the natural light, but I saw that we were in the meeting room where Aaron had brought us not long ago.

Hazel rushed to the other side of the room and started feeling around the wall with her hands.

“Do you think there’s a way out here?” I asked, following after her.

“I’m hoping.” She replied quickly. “And we could always break into the storm drain that the water comes down through.”

Despite all of our searching, we found nothing. Frustrated, Hazel punched against the wall right as the group chasing us exploded into the room. Several people dressed in tight, reddish-brown uniforms stood blocking the door, weapons drawn.

“Hold.” A familiar voice spoke from behind them. They all moved out of the way as Amara Leonte stepped forward. She turned her head back to the door. “You were right. It was them.”

The woman’s nephew, Warner stepped forward, though it took more than a moment for me to recognize him. The only recognizable thing about him was the dung colored hair that clung wetly to his face. His complexion had turned sallow, dark circles had formed around his eyes, his skin sagged unnaturally and he was sweating profusely.

The boy grit his teeth and lurched forward, stopped only as Amara caught onto his collar. She frowned and let go, letting him fall the ground, practically frothing at the mouth.

“What happened to him?” I mumbled just loud enough for others to hear.

“That’s what I wanted to ask.” Amara replied, glaring at the two of us. “This all happened after he visited you in the infirmary.”

She was looking at Hazel as she spoke. Turning, I saw a look of absolute disgust stretched across her face.

“I was too merciful.” Hazel grimaced. “Scum like him don’t learn, even after you beat a lesson into them.”

Dragging himself forward, Warner grumbled and started muttering to himself.

“Fix him. Do that, and I might let you go.” Amara said as the guards readied their weapons.

“Nobody can fix him.” Hazel said with a frightening smile. “We gave him plenty of chances, yet he kept coming back. He’s just showing his true self now: a sniveling wretch worth less than the dirt he eats.”

Amara’s eyes narrowed, and she raised an arm, pointing at me. “Kill him.” She ordered.

“What did you do to him?” I asked, stepping back as my aura flared to life.

Doing the same, Hazel answered. “I forced him to show the world who he truly was. That is his true self.”

The guards all rushed forward, six of them in total. Four of them were coming at me, while the others focused on keeping Hazel occupied. Using Mage’s Hand, I was able to narrowly avoid most of their attacks. Thankfully, Amara had only brought Warriors. I was already struggling to avoid their attacks, feeling their auras graze my body as they attacked, leaving light cuts and burns depending on who had attacked. It would be far worse if they had a Mage.

My small frame allowed me a lot of freedom of movement around the fours’ attacks as I ducked, dodged and moved around them.

Suddenly, my instincts all screamed danger. Turning slightly, I saw a Magic Ring in front of Amara’s hand pointed at Hazel. Forgetting myself, I focused all of the power I’d gathered through Mage’s Hand into my feet and launched myself in her direction.

Flying through the air, I twisted my body and felt my leg crack as my shin exploded against the head of one of her assailants. Ignoring the pain, I was barely able to stand, only to get hit by a fiery explosion, throwing me back against the wall and into one of the streams that fed the plant life in the room.

Face down in the water, I tried to push myself up only to feel something sharp pierce into my back over and over again.

The pain grew worse with every strike until my entire body refused to move.

Someone came and rolled me over, and I was able to draw in a weak breath. I recognized Hazel’s hair fill my vision, but the world had become bleary and unfocused until finally everything went dark.

╚╩╩╩╝ Hazel ╚╩╩╩╝

This tale has been unlawfully obtained from Royal Road. If you discover it on Amazon, kindly report it.

Malcolm went limp in my arms. Blood flowed out of his back and into the water, following the channels all the way to the end of the room where Amara and Warner stood.

In Warner’s hands was a jagged, bloody knife. When Amara’s spell hit Malcolm, it had sent him flying to the boy’s feet. Dropping to his knees, he frantically stabbed him, grinning like a madman the entire time. By the time I could react, the boy had stopped his assault and ran to his aunt’s side.

“This,” she paused, “is what happens when people don’t know their place.” She stepped forward. “He died.” She gestured to Malcolm’s limp body. “Because of your arrogance.”

Warner started laughing to himself. “I did it.” He laughed even louder. “I broke you!”

Holding Malcolm close to my chest, I wept as I pressed his head against mine. We had so much planned, and it’s all over. Everything is my fault. If I hadn’t done what I’d done to Warner. If I hadn’t brought us to this room. If I hadn’t let Amara hit him. If I’d let myself take the hit instead, then Malcolm would still be here.

“I’m sorry.” I whispered, my voice cracking.

Amara was right. I was prideful. I assumed that I would always succeed. That nothing would go wrong anymore. There were so many things that I hadn’t said. Stories I wanted to tell him. I wanted to make a story of our own. We would go north and leave our mark on history.

“I’ll give you one last chance.” Amara said. “Fix Warner, and I’ll let you go.”

Closing my eyes, I softly kissed Malcolm on the head and whispered. “I love you.”

Gently laying him back into the water, I pulled back my hands and stared down at the blood the had covered me.

“Well?”

Standing, I looked down at Malcolm’s body. He looked so peaceful. “We both know that you aren’t going to let me go.” I retorted.

“So you choose death?” Amara asked, sounding disappointed.

Death sounded sort of nice. I couldn’t imagine a life without Malcolm in it. But if I was going to die, then I wouldn’t go alone. I had to make this horrible woman regret this day for as long as she lived. I would tear down this terrible institution that gave her power. Everyone here in this stupid world would feel the pain of loss. I’ll break them all.

I felt something throb inside of my body. It was a familiar feeling at this point. I’d always had Malcolm there to help me suppress it, but now he was gone. And I didn’t want to hold it back.

╚╩╩╩╝

Amara Leonte stood, feeling quite proud of herself.

Her brother-in-law had given her a promise when Warner had enrolled in the College. If she took care of him and let him have whatever he wanted, then she would be folded into the Manasette family and given great power.

That promise seemed to fall apart when she came across Warner earlier this morning. He had missed his classes the day before and refused to leave his room until she arrived there personally.

He was a mess. Far worse than he was right now. His mood and disposition improved when she had promised to help him get revenge on whoever had done this to him. She was quite surprised to find out that it was Hazel, who was supposedly heavily injured.

He had gone to see her with a couple of his friends. His so-called friends abandoned him at the first sign of danger, leaving him alone with her.

After a long session of brainstorming ideas, the boy had rushed to her side, saying that he had seen her go through a secret door with a teacher and her brother. Curious but skeptical, she followed him to where he said he’d seen them go. After searching for a while, she found the opening.

Whatever it was that they were doing, if they were this secretive, it couldn’t be good for her. She gathered as many guards as she could and led them into the secret tunnel. The destination was quite surprising, but she had other things to worry about.

A good distance away, she spotted Hazel and Malcolm and order for them to be followed. They gave chase and were able to corner them after the ran into a dead end.

Looking down at her nephew, Amara couldn’t help but smile. The boy was seemingly recovering, though the look on his face, as well as the creepy grin were deeply unsettling. She had a lot of work to do if she wanted to make him presentable again.

Turning back to Hazel, she mused as she watched her kiss Malcolm on the head and lay him back into the water. The poor girl was covered in blood, she’d even gotten some on her face somehow.

“Well?” Amara asked, feeling some pity for the girl.

Standing, Hazel said. “We both know that you aren’t going to let me go.”

“So you choose death?”

Hazel paused, staring down at Malcolm’s body. Slowly, the blood dripped down from her face, splashing against the wet floor.

“Yes. I choose death.” She muttered, raising her head.

Turning to face them, Amara couldn’t help but take a step back. Two scarlet marbles, cut with jagged, black lines stared at her. Streaks of blood ran down from her eyes, dripping down onto the floor.

Her aura burst into existence. The purple energy wrapped around her body in an instant. The purple slowly changed color as a wave of red swam through it, growing at an extreme rate. In barely a moment, a blood red mist covered her body.

“Kill her!” Amara commanded, losing all the pity she had felt for the girl.

Despite her frantic command, the six guards remained still. Hazel’s eyes filled them with a primal dread. They felt that the slightest movement would get them killed.

Finally, Warner moved. Screaming, he charged at Hazel, swinging the knife that he’d used to kill Malcolm.

Hazel simply stood and watched as the boy ran toward her.

Faster than anyone could recognize, Hazel grabbed Warner by the arm and neck and lifted him into the air.

“To be killed by someone like you.” Hazel muttered. “This world is beyond cruel.”

“P-Please-” Amara started to say, but was stopped as Warner started screaming in pain.

With the slightest twist of her arm, she had ripped the boy’s arm off. Looking past him, she tossed it across the room, landing directly in front of Amara.

The blood red mist that swarmed around Hazel grew more and more dense as the seconds passed until her form became almost completely obscured. The mist then clung to her body, creating a terrifying silhouette.

Watching in terror, Amara began to question her reason for living. She recognized her own greed and all the evil it had caused her to commit.

“Please don’t hurt me!” Amara cried, her guards following her example. “I’m sorry for what I’ve done! I’ll make it right!”

Starting at her head, the blood red mist began to solidify. Reddish black scales formed around her face, framing her frighteningly violent eyes. The scales continued to form around her body, stretching up and down her limbs before extending out as jagged claws. Finally, the mist extended out from her lower back, forming a tail as thick as an arm and as long as she was tall that ended in a barbed arrowhead.

Her clothes were gone, but it didn’t matter since the scales covered everything but her face.

Slapping her tail against the ground, where it left a deep indentation, Hazel spoke in a low voice. “This is what happens when people don’t know their place.”

One of the guards turned and tried to run. Before he could take two steps, though, Hazel’s tail pierced through the back of his head, and yanked him back, dragging him in front of her.

“A world without Malcolm,” she said, placing a clawed foot on his head before ripping the tail out, “is a world that doesn’t need to exist.”