Akamori and the dark-haired dragon slowly sized each other up. The two duelists prowled in a wide circle around each other. Twice Akamori gestured for others to back off. Amara and Sala each. He had this.

The void flexed in the dragon like a muscle of pure energy and then the dragon rushed forward, black axes blurring. But each attack failed to find purchase with Akamori as Thanaton swiftly darted back and forth, knocking away the axes blades. Akamori’s economy of motion was such that he only moved as much as needed, gauging the enemy’s style and skill.

And that’s how the first stage of the duel carried itself out. One would thrust or lunge, and the other evade or parry. It went on for a few minutes until the two paused once again. This time, though, the air carried with it a deadly tension. Akamori’s aura tightened and contracted to his body. No more the raw malevolent force, but now little more than a sheen above his body. The dragon’s control, while admirable, wasn’t on his level. There was a roughness to it, like a partially domesticated beast. Or more accurately, partially feral dragon.

“You fight like you’ve some skill, but you’re still unsure of yourself.” Feral said. Feral? Let’s call him Feral.

“Yeah, well, I’ve been getting to know myself a lot lately. Turns out there’s more to me than I realized. A lot more.” Akamori said no hint of irony. He could feel Bahumet and Frank’s eyes on him even though they weren’t manifested.

“But will it be enough” The dark warrior said, twirling his vicious axes before charging in to attack again.

Feral combined both axes, which melted together into one large axe that bit down into the deck where Akamori’s foot just was. In response, Thanaton hissed towards Akamori’s opponent’s neck. The sentient blade hissed with dissatisfaction when it only cleaved a few stray hairs as the Feral warrior leaned down to avoid the attack. He responded with a quick palm strike to the inside of Akamori’s ankle, thrusting his foot out and throwing him off balance. A few years ago a move like that might have put him at a disadvantage. But having void magic and being able to tell gravity to go fuck itself put things in a different perspective.

He rolled with the momentum, spinning in the air like a human pin wheel until he landed on his feet again. The move gave his opponent time to recover, split the axes and resume his guard. The two warriors briefly circled each other as the rest of the hanger evacuated to the safety of the entryway in case a hasty barrier needed to be erected. Akamori flicked a quick glance to confirm no one else was at risk and then back to the Feral again with a grin.

“Ok. Looks like we can cut loose now. What say we drop the kid gloves and get serious?”

“You court death with a dragon?” the Feral asked, confusion tinting his voice.

“Death? Pfft. The only thing I’m courting is a good time, and a brief one at that.”

“You would be wise to show respect to your superiors.”

“Not the first time someone’s pointed out my lack of wisdom.” Akamori grinned, twirling Thanaton eagerly.

And yet you still fail to listen. Thanaton hissed, annoyed.

The feral paused, confusion winning out. “I don’t think that means what you-” He stopped talking as soon as Akamori blurred forward in a stream of red of black. Sparks danced off the feral’s axes as Akamori slashed with Thanaton rapidly flowing through several katas. His own movements, mirroring those of Bahumet before him. He channeled his aether, casting Greater Infuse Speed and Greater Infuse Strength spells. He felt a significant chunk of his aether melt into his body.

The feral dragon struggled to keep up, relying only on pure skill alone to keep pace. To his credit, he did a good job. Akamori appraised the feral’s skills as being better than his own, but not by such a wide gulf that the fight was unmanageable. He also possessed more magic than the feral, meaning he had more power. That meant he could leverage certain spell types to his advantage. He craved physical matches like these over spell casting bouts. Letting his body flow freely, riding instinct and training.

An axe blade drifted towards his neck, but his physical enhancements increased his reaction speed, such that the Feral may as well have been moving in slow motion. Akamori tracked the blade’s path as it cleaved a few stray hairs free. He could feel Bahumet and Thanaton grumbling in protest. He knew they felt he wasn’t taking this fight as seriously as he should have been. And they were correct. He was having fun . For the first time in a while, he wasn’t fighting for the fate of a ship, a colony, a planet, or even a system or sector. He was just enjoying the fight. Flashbacks of his bout in the bar tavern brawl flickered through his mind. Addled as they were by the drunk haze he was in.

But now? He was in control. He was alert. And he was enjoying himself.

Only children play games. You should end this threat and be done with it. Thanaton hissed.

“Why? He’s a good fighter, and we could honestly use some more heavy hitters on the team.” He said to his blade. It thrummed in annoyance. The point was taken. Once Akamori decided on something, he didn’t go back on it.

“Um… you do know you’re talking to yourself.”

“Yeah. Spell weapon conversation.”

“It’s sentient?”

“Yes.” Thanaton hissed aloud for the first time in a while.

The Feral lowered his axes, and Akamori lowered his own blade slightly. Still ready to defend himself, but not a complete assumption of his guard. Feral seemed to chew on the words spoken previously and glanced back up.

“You’re thinking of asking me to join you?”

“Actually yeah. You’ve got skill. Sure you’ve got a sketchy past and the whole I’m gonna eat you all thing going, but, eh. We’ve all got things to sort out.”

Feral blinked, clearly dumbfounded. “You can’t be serious?”

Akamori’s head tilted. “Why not? Look, you may not realize it, but we’ve not lacking for enemies, and another set of axes on my side is a good thing I’d say.”

“But you know I’m corrupted by the black blood.”

“Yeah, I know. But you’re in luck. We’re in orbit above the world that specializes in healers and light magic specialists in the sector.”

Unauthorized content usage: if you discover this narrative on Amazon, report the violation.

“You would seek a cleansing ritual?”

“Would you want one?”

A glimmer of hope flickered in the Feral, and he nodded immediately. “Yes. Please, my sister first. I’m a secondary consideration.”

“I’ll see what I can do. We’ve got some things they want that we can probably use to our advantage. But I’ll need some things from you in return, though.”

“Such as?”

“Well, your help, for starters. Like I said, we’re not lacking for enemies, so any help will always be appreciated. The rest we can sort out as we go. Sound fair?”

“For now. Change the balance of fairness, or threaten my sister and I will not hesitate to devour all of you.”

“You’re welcome to press your luck if you want. But we can save the posturing for later.”

Several armed knights approached with spell blades and rifles aimed at the Feral, who raised his hands.

“So what’s your name?” Akamori asked the feral.

“Helios. The last of Shinjo’s Riders.”

Akamori grinned. “Oh, I can tell I’m gonna like this story. Play nice with these guys for now and we’ll get things sorted.”

Before the knights could escort their assailant to the brig though, a spell drive rumbled to life in the hanger. A big. The only one with a sound profile that big was the Indra. A beat later, the arrowhead shaped vessel lifted up and soared out of the hanger at top speed before shimmering out of view. Sirsir strode up to Akamori’s side. They only knew of one illusionist.

“Um Sir?” Sirsir said at Akamori’s side.

“Yeah?”

“Did your friend just jack our ride?”

The two stood there facing the exterior of the hangar as though they could still see the ship flying into the distance.

“Yep. Looks that way.”

Sirsir hissed, kicking the deck. “That’s fucked up, Sir.”

Akamori stared into the black for a while before nodding. “Yeah. Yeah it is.”

#

Amara sat before the primary spell console, teams cascading down her cheeks as she pushed the Indra deeper into space. Her target was the shadow of Eryn’s sister moon. As the starlight from the systems G class star gave way to a blanket of shadow cast by the moon, Amara wove an umbral gate spell. She watched as the void tore itself open, revealing the Umbral Plane. The spell cost her a few AP, with the ship supplying some as well since it held its own void infusion. The gate shut behind her as she plotted a course for the systems held by the Brotherhood of Man.

Soon we’ll have both answers and power, and the Remover will be little more than an annoying obstacle himself.

“You really dislike the guy huh?”

He orchestrated the fall of multiple civilizations. We know little of him, and less still about him. The few that have, speculated that he answers to a power even higher than his dark mistress.

“I still don’t get why he’d risk feeding us power and putting us together. Seems like potentially creating an obstacle. Not removing one.”

I confess to finding the move troublesome to figure out as well. But then, that’s always been a problem where he’s involved. There are always layers to one like him. I dislike layers in anything but chocolate cake.

Amara puzzled on that for a moment. “You know. That’s actually a good point in this case. I don’t mind complicated people. But complicated bad guys? Not as cool.”

We will in the Umbral realm for several days. In that time it would be wise to train. One of the few good habits of your peers.

“This trip. It’s not permanent right? We will be going back to them right?”

Yes. It will take a pantheon to stop the Remover’s mistress.

“Does said mistress have a name?”

Yes. But because of complex erasure spells, the Remover has eliminated any trace of her past existences.

“Odd. Seems like you’d want people to know your big, bad, evil boss was coming back to work.”

Unless it’s allowing her to catch the sector unguarded. One cannot protect against a threat they are unaware of.

Amara eased back in the command chair. The main screen was absolutely black. She can’t see anything, anyway. The Umbral plane lacked any natural light to see with. Even magical light. As the uncomfortable silence and darkness pressed in on her, the lack of crew sounds, the soft hum of the stealth wards and the powered down state of the ship while in Umbral transit, Amara sighed.

Your friend is a traitor to her people. We must find her and bring her to justice.

“It’s not that simple.”

A pause. Then, No. It is not .

She stood up, pacing the bridge of the Indra, weaving loops between all the command chairs and metallic spell control consoles. She was trying to figure out what exactly would have pushed Luffa to stage a rebellion and flee the planet with a company’s worth of other primals. And how? She knew Luffa had void magic, but she didn’t think the primal was powerful enough to open a portal strong enough to flee the planet.

“Something’s not right. Whatever Luffa has gotten into, she might need our help more than our outrage. I want to hear her out. Learn why she left. And maybe we can stop Cenine from killing them all.”

The pensive silence from Nemesis was unsettling. She knew the divine soul shard wouldn’t hesitate to steal control of her body to drive her around if it wanted. If that happened, could she stop herself from doing something she didn’t want to do? She hoped she had the strength later. She wouldn’t kill her friend when she finally found her, would she?

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