“Well? I asked a question.”

The words wriggled in Mono’s mind. They tried to worm their way into his thoughts and pass as just another part of his internal monologue. What’s the harm in talking for a bit? Perhaps the conversation could be used to stall for time and come up with a plan, they said. Just tell Kade what he wants to know. The twisty words were compelling, even though the question hadn't even been directed at him.

“The carts from the accident were the first warning,” Vivian said. “They ‘fell’ too far away to be physically possible.”

Kade smiled, showing off normal white teeth. “I suppose I was a bit lazy with making that accident look believable. What else made you suspicious? I’ll make sure to learn from my mistakes when dealing with the next group.”

Deal with the next group? Mono looked at the yellow-eyed thing with horror. How many times had Kade ambushed travellers?

If the words bothered Vivian, she didn’t show it, continuing to answer Kade in a monotone voice. “When Ad fell, he gave us a warning.”

“In what way?”

She raised her right arm in imitation of what her brother had done, the outstretched hand glowing green. “He didn’t have time to write words, but he used red light to—”

Mid-speech, the Weaver used all five of her fingers to rapidly write a phrase in the air. A ball of flames formed on the ground in front of Kade and expanded outwards to cover the cave’s width, forcing him to retreat from the heat.

“Mono, get your bow,” Vivian ordered.

Scrambling to his feet, Mono ran several yards to the wagon and threw back the covers. As he grabbed the still strung bow and quiver, he noticed Adamas’ sword laying underneath the leather satchel full of medical supplies. He also took the four foot long blade and turned around.

In the short time it took him to reach the wagon and equip himself, a thin veneer of steam had already begun to form around Vivian. “I can’t keep the fire going,” she said in a strained voice. The glow surrounding her raised hand petered out. “Get ready.”

Without the support of Vivian’s aether or the presence of any fuel, the magical fire quickly extinguished.

Even though there was no longer a barrier between him and the duo, Kade made no move to close the distance. His smile widened further as he watched Mono sling the sword over his back and strap the quiver to his side. “You think you can fight me?”

“There’s no other option,” Mono replied as he pulled an arrow from the quiver. He tried his best not to let his voice or body shake from the adrenaline. It took too much time to get into the wagon to get away and running on foot seemed suicidal. Fight or flight, his body screamed, and there was no fleeing from this thing in front of him.

“I suppose not,” Kade said with a sigh. “Let’s get this over with. I’m getting hungry and waiting for my food to thaw out is the worst.”

Mono’s stomach roiled at the feelings the stone in his right palm gave him from that casual statement. The meaning behind the words was crystallized in his mind. A hunger both literal and for power; devouring flesh of the highest taboo in order to sate the desire for strength.

Even without the stone, Vivian seemed to understand the implication. “You can’t mean…”

Kade was beaming now, a wide smile of perfectly normal, white teeth. “It’s a shame that your brother got buried. I’ll have to dig up his corpse to partake of his talents.”

The horrifying words pushed Mono over the edge, causing him to fire an arrow at the monster.

Kade dodged by disappearing and reappearing several feet to the side. “Oh, that is useful,” the sickly-eyed man said with a laugh. He had anticipated the attack — probably even goaded Mono into shooting.

Vivian raised her arms, both hands glowing, and began to Weave separate phrases with each.

Before she could finish, however, Kade closed the distance between them with another blink. He sent her crashing into the wall with a casual swipe of his right arm. She crumpled from the force. “No more fire, please.”

Mono dropped the arrow he had just pulled out and tried to draw Adamas’ sword. The blade was far longer than he had accounted for when pulling, and was caught in the scabbard for a moment. That moment was all Kade needed to turn and appear in front of Mono.

The sickly-eyed man grabbed the now-drawn sword by the blade and twisted it out of Mono’s grip, sending Mono sprawling to the ground. “You have no idea how to use this, do you?”

Before he could reply, Mono felt a pain shoot through his side from something hitting him. His vision blacked out as he was sent flying into the air for several seconds before crashing back onto the ground.

Rolling from the force of Kade’s kick, Mono hardly registered the crack of Emre’s bow breaking underneath him or the tiny rocks digging into his skin. There was nothing else but the pain. Gasping for air, he was unable to move. God, it hurt, he thought. It hurt so bad.

“You know, when I said no more fire, this is not exactly what I had in mind,” a faraway voice said.

The words were meaningless to Mono as he lay there. Several moments passed before the pain subsided to a bearable level, and he was able to reorientate himself. He had been kicked so far that he was by the entrance of the cave. Outside, the sun had begun to rise and thaw out the frozen trail. There were loud crackling sounds as the ice melted.

No, he realized, that wasn’t the sound of ice melting. Painstakingly pushing himself onto his feet, he turned to look back into the grotto. Inside, Kade was hacking away at a small dome of ice with the sword. Vivian’s outline could be seen through the ice, there was green light from her Weaving as she tried to maintain the dome and keep out the sickly-eyed monster.

After several more swings, there was a loud snap as Adamas’ sword broke on the ice. Snarling, Kade threw aside the broken blade and began to beat on the dome with his fists. It was like watching a stop motion with missing frames as his arms pulled back before skipping to his fists crashing into the ice. As the punches sped up into a flurry of sporadic, stop-motion blows, cracks began to appear.

Mono watched the scene unfold before his eyes. In a panic, he tried to come up with a plan to help Vivian. Both the bow and sword were damaged beyond use and there was no way he could match a monster capable of cracking solid ice in strength. They were going to die, he realized. His chest tightened at the realization. They were going to die. Vivian was going to die. He was going to die. He was going to—

“Hey, coward,” the sickly-eyed man stopped punching to turn to Mono. His breaths were ragged but he was smiling as he spoke. “I can feel your fear. Why haven’t you run away? I can’t control you like the horses.”

Looking between the man and the horses, Mono saw that the beasts were unmoving, frozen in fear. Run away? Flee, his body screamed.

“Do you think I’m tricking you or something?” Kade asked. He flicked his hand in a dismissive motion. “I have no interest in someone as weak as you. Get going; consider it recompense for that story you told me.” He turned back towards the ice and resumed striking it.

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Shaking from the fear and adrenaline, Mono tried to find a reason to stay. He couldn’t just abandon his friend to this monster. But what was he going to do? What could he do? As the thoughts raced through his mind, a chilling wind blew through the mouth of the cave. The biting cold contrasted with the warmth in his right hand, the one that had kept Sojourn’s stone tightly grasped through all of this. The warm stone reminded him of his resolution. Everything was secondary to survival.

Taking a step backwards, Mono moved to run. In his mind, he had already begun to push away the memories and emotions that his next actions would bring.

But, before he could begin to turn and flee, someone rushed past him. In a blur, the person charged at Kade and landed a heavy blow on the sickly-eyed man’s head before hopping several feet back to escape any retaliation.

Unable to see his face, Mono could still tell who it was by the torn clothing and the man’s demeanor.

It was Adamas.

_____________________________________________________________________________

Adamas’ weariness was bone deep. His body was cold from being buried in the snow, in pain from pulling several muscles in order to force his way out, and exhausted from the climb up the cliff and the sprint to save his sister as well as his friend. He had not been this tired in years. Mentally and physically, he was stretched so thin. But there would be no rest for a while longer, as the biggest obstacle was yet overcome.

“How kind of you to join us,” Kade said in Common.

No, not Kade, Adamas decided. It was just a monster undeserving of a name or recognition as a person.

“This saves me a lot of work,” it continued.

He disregarded the words and their attempts to get underneath his skin. His eyes flicked between the thing and his surroundings. From the shockingly deep hole punched into the stone wall, to the burns on the monster’s body, to his broken sword laying several steps away on the relatively debris free floor, he took in each piece of information. He would need every advantage he could get, especially since he was too tired to grasp the feelings needed for him to Weave.

“Are you ignoring me? I’m talking here!” The thing in front of him was beginning to get irritated. “Answer!”

It kept on speaking for a bit longer. Words, words, words, pointed yet pointless words; this thing’s failure to realize that the fight had already begun indicated that it was an amateur at combat. He did not allow himself to become overconfident and relax his guard, however. His opponent had become one of the short-sighted, a Myopic. While these human-turned-monsters were so rare that most believed them myths, he had seen one once before. And it had taken at least seven experienced fighters to subdue the thing. The one in front of him would be strong, it would be fast, and it would have no qualms about attacking with the intent to kill.

“Talk!” It demanded, now furious. Disappearing and reappearing in sporadic intervals, the Myopic closed the distance to throw a punch.

Adamas was already on the move before the Myopic had even taken a step, diving into a roll towards his sword and breaking the momentum to kneel next to it. He reached out to grab it.

As his grip tightened around the broken blade’s hilt, he realized that his hands were shaking. Not from the cold, or the exhaustion, or the pain, but from anger. This thing was using Kai’s talent. Images flashed through his head of what he had seen inside the fallen carts: broken bodies and grey, lifeless faces. Worst of all was seeing the gashes on his friend’s legs from something that had taken bites out of the corpses.

The edges of his vision began to take on a bluish hue as the rage built up. It had not been an accident, but this selfish, arrogant monster. Because of it, he would no longer be able to see Kai, to accept his apology and go on more adventures with his friend. This thing would pay. There would be no mercy. It would suffer a worse fate than his friend.

Friend. The word made Adamas take a deep breath and calm himself, the blue tint disappearing as he did so. He still had Vivian and a living friend to protect. He could not afford to let the anger and desire for revenge control his actions. If he did so, he could become lost, short-sighted himself. He would be no better than the monster in front of him.

“You think that broken thing is going to help you?” It asked with a sneer as it looked at the now less than a foot long blade.

He said nothing. Straightening up from his kneeling position, he moved into a complete iron gate position: left foot forward, weight balanced on both legs, and the sword tilted downward towards the right. Come and find out, he made his body language convey.

Like he had hoped, his wordless message incensed the monster and it lunged forward while using its stolen ability, vanishing when preparing to attack and reappearing to land the blow. Quickly switching his grip on the sword to an underhand one, Adamas sidestepped the thing’s first swing when it came, and used the shattered blade like a knife to make small cuts along the monster’s right forearm, arm, and abdomen. He made sure to press hard enough to cause bleeding, but light enough to prevent the steel from getting stuck on the tough muscle underneath so he could quickly dance away from any possible retaliation.

Turning, the thing snarled and pushed forward with more attacks. Swipes, punches, kicks, lunges, everything was met with the same response and resulted in similar effects.

Ribbons of red began to trick down and around the monster’s limbs after several minutes of exchange.“How are you doing this?” It asked through its ragged breathing. “You shouldn’t be able to see me.”

The answer was simple: fighting the monster was nothing compared to the matches against Kai, especially after he had replayed their last tournament match over and over in his mind for so long. With each telegraphed attack the thing made, Adamas was able to read its body language and Flow to predict its move.

He did not verbally respond to the sickly-eyed thing’s question, of course. He would give no answer, no information to his enemy.

Adamas moved back into the complete iron gate position.

Seeing him silently return to that stance, the Myopic went mad, furiously rushing forward to try to hurt Adamas. Its strikes were far wilder than before and more predictable. Better still, its periodic disappearances were becoming less and less frequent as the thing tired out, just like he had planned. Using Kai’s talent was taxing and exposing the monster’s blood had caused its Flow to disperse into the thin air, further exacerbating the fatigue. With the thing now exhausted, he moved to safely finish it off.

Ducking under the latest of many overextending swings that no longer blinked forwards, he stepped in, only to notice a wide smile on the monster’s face. With hardly any time to react, Adamas managed to move his right arm to block the perfectly timed backhand strike.

The force of the solid blow propelled him backwards and onto the ground. He lost his hold on the sword as he rolled with the momentum to try to put distance between him and the Myopic. Allowing it to get a hold on him and use its inhuman strength was the last thing he wanted. On his knees, he looked up at the thing, trying to figure out why his plan had failed.

It noticed his searching stare and was only happy to oblige. “Did you think those cuts would do anything to me?” It asked as it showed off its right arm.

Even with the small amounts of drying blood, it was easy to tell that all of the wounds had healed. That was something Adamas had never seen or heard of before. He tried to get onto his feet and put distance between them, to come up with a new course of action.

The Myopic was one step ahead this time, however. It blinked forward and tackled him. The two tumbled to the ground, a scramble of limbs as the thing tried to pummel him with its fists while he tried to survive. Gritting his teeth, Adamas fought through the dull but forceful pain in his left arm from a pulled muscle and the throbbing pain from his right arm to grapple with the monster.

There would be no mounting, no pinning or locking of the limbs. Any attempts at matching his strength against this thing would fail horribly. Instead, he tried to disorientate his opponent until it chose to disengage itself. Everytime the monster tried to find balance, he threw it off by applying just the right amount of force one way or another. Whenever it tried to throw a punch, he squirmed to make the blow awkward, to prevent the thing from putting any power behind the attack.

Feel the Flow. Use it. Make it. Break it.

Controlling the movements of the struggle with his irregular rhythm, he was eventually able to find an opening to land a blow to the Myopic’s head without retaliation. He took it. When the thing did not react, he also took the next one. Then another. And another. On the fifth one, however, as he was pulling his right arm back slightly to strike harder, the monster bucked while simultaneously pushing with both of its arms as hard as it could.

He was sent flying into the wall, hitting his own head on the tough stone. Unable to shrug off the trauma like his opponent, he fell to the ground on his hands and knees. Stars in his eyes, he was unable to move as he heard the Myopic get up.

“Not so confident now, are you?” It asked.

Adamas did not reply. He could not, even if he wanted to. He was just so out of breath, so tired.

There was a moment of silence as the thing waited for a response. When it realized that none was forthcoming, the Myopic began to laugh. “Gods, look at you. You’re so weak it’s pathetic. I don’t know why you ran here instead of running away.” It bent down to taunt Adamas more. “That decision wasn’t one of bravery, Ad, it was arrogance.”

He shook his head in disagreement, still gasping for air.

“Still no words? Come on, you have to have something to say.”

He looked up at the monster with a defiant glare, getting off of his hands and straightening up to do so.

That action infuriated it. “Say something!” The Myopic screamed. “You have no right to look down on me. Stop being overconfident, you—”

Finally feeling some semblance of functionality, Adamas struck out with the knife he had kept hidden at his side, piercing through his opponent’s breastbone and into the windpipe. “You talk too much,” he said as he forced Flow into the phrase engraved on the blade without forming any imagery in his mind.

Improperly used, the Weaving began to function inefficiently, converting most of the Flow into heat instead of the image behind the phrase. The blade smoked as it burned, cauterizing everything it touched.

Howling in pain, the thing quickly tore the knife out and threw it aside. “Adamas!” It began to attack in frenzied anger.

Now on his feet, he realized that there was no way to escape with the wall behind him and the Myopic right in front of him. So, he met the flurry of inhuman blows with everything he had left. Left, right, down, right, he dodged every blow he could. Of the ones that he could not, he tried to deflect or block with his arms. Of those ones that got through, he tried to minimize their impact and prevent them from hitting vital areas.

Bones creaked and ribs cracked, but he held on. With its air supply cut off, this would not go on forever. The obstacle was almost overcome, and Adamas would not break.

After what felt like an eternity, the first hints of the end were finally in sight. The monster was slowing down, the talent-induced time skipping assault becoming less frequent and more sporadic.

Finally, as if reality had at last caught up with the insane, arrogant thing, the Myopic threw its last punch, a shaky tap, and fell over. The sickly-eyed thing would no longer be able to hurt anyone else.

Shaking from the pain, the dreadful pain, he stepped over the body and stumbled towards the cast away knife. It was the long-ago joke gift to Kai and now the only memento he had left of his friend. After taking it with him, he had not wanted to use it in fear of breaking the ceremonial blade, but in the end there was no other option.

Picking it up, he read the inscription on the still glowing-hot blade as it cracked from the stress of the sudden heat and subsequent cooling.

Kai a damas esquer etern. Sea and Water, friends forever.

With a quiet ping, the knife shattered, leaving only the wooden handle in his hand.

“Goodbye, Kai.”