“Wanna see!” Delithia's shout was shrill and sweet, wrapped up in a package of curly blonde ringlets and rosy red cheeks that gleamed in the cold of the night. Winter was ending, I remembered. The snowy season coming to a close and with its end came the promise of new life in the spring. The nights were still long, but the lethality of the frost that followed had long since been dulled, “Wanna see, Orin! Higher!”

I could feel the burn on my shoulders and back from carrying Delithia. I said not a word of protest despite the pain I was in. I didn't want to disappoint her. She had so few chances to smile as it was, I didn't want to rob her of the brief glimmer of happiness that the festivities afforded her.

Delithia had just turned four the week before. I recalled the cake, a burnt thing that came from a time before the Sister had mastered the art of cooking. It tasted about as good as it looked, but you wouldn't have known it from the way my little sister savoured every bite and complimented the Sister for the effort. Even then, her kindness shone like a star, touching the darkest reaches of all our hearts, brightening what it found there. I couldn't remember how many times Pater and I returned to the orphanage, hands empty of both food and coin. But seeing that smile made it all worthwhile.

So I struggled on without a word. Because if a little girl can put so much effort into ensuring that the people she loved most were happy, how could I not match her and call myself her brother?

“She's coming, Delithia!” Pater said from beside me, his grin the match of my own as we met eyes. He was just as taken up in the excitement as she was. He pointed south, further down the Old Road and towards the market, where the Princess would pass first.

I could hear the roar of the common folk, all straining to catch sight of the Princess of the Realm for the very first time. She'd been hiding up in the palace since she was born, but the way the old-timers talked about her you would believe she was already living among us. They spoke of her fondly, as though she was a member of their own family. It was a strange thing and, to my young mind, didn't make much sense. I didn't really care for the royals. They'd never put food in the bellies of my brothers and sisters. I doubted they were gonna start now.

But today wasn't about me and my cynicism.

The crowd pressed in around us. Any other day would see Pater and I jumping for joy at so many gathered people as we moved through the mob like wraiths. A shove here, a muttered apology there and we would leave laden with coin. But we couldn't do that now, not with Delithia. She was too innocent, had yet to see the other side of Myrin, the second face that hid within the shadows of day and the darkest of nights. I wanted to spare her that, to spare her the fate that had befallen Leila. Even the thought of it made my heart constrict and my eyes water before I sniffed it all away.

'Wake up, my love.'

“Princess!” Delithia was already waving, despite the fact that Elora was too far away for her to see, eyes sparkling with anticipation as she did so. I concentrated on facing forward, on the feel of her feet striking my chest. It let me ignore the pain carrying her was causing me.

I'd never been a large lad. At ten, I looked closer to eight. Years of pushing my own meals on my brothers and sisters taking their toll. But I was strong, deceptively so despite my small size. I could put up with this for a little longer, just until the Princess passed.

We do anything for our family.

The image of a broken young man filled my mind then, so large he made Boldrin look small. For some reason, the picture filled me with both anger and regret.

The thought alone startled me, making me frown into space. Who was Boldrin? The name stirred the image of a kind, grizzled face, but it wasn't one that I could place. The same was true with the young man.

“She's passing!” Pater said, ripping me free from my strangely troubled thoughts as he shook my arm. He climbed onto a small crate, which was just big enough to let him stare over the crowd, “Wow, is she pretty!”

I envied him the opportunity. I couldn't see shit, only the back of some threadbare tunic as I pushed myself anew to make sure Delithia caught sight of the Princess of Venos. This was probably going to be the last time she ever had the chance and little grabbed the attention of little girls like Princesses.

“Hello, Princess!” Delithia laughed as she waved her little flower over her head, trying with all her might to appear bigger than she actually was. She was squirming quite a bit on my shoulders, making me swing precariously to the side, but I just about managed to maintain my balance. I wondered if the Sister and the others managed to see much? They'd stayed behind, closer to the back and out of the way. Sasta was so very small, the risk of taking her deeper into the clustered bodies was too great, “Orin! She's waving back at me, Orin! She's waving!”

I could hear the smile on her lips and laughed aloud, joining her as I strained all the more. I could hear the trumpets, could hear the music as the float carried the royal family on by. I bet it was something to see, but I was alright with living vicariously through my brother and sister. Pater worked hard for our family and getting to see his grin without the bitterness was worth almost as much as hearing Delithia's laugh.

“Princess! My flower! Take it!” Delithia yelled, but her little voice was lost to the roaring cheers around us, “Please! I picked it for you!”

And she had. Gertrand and I went with her when she did, walking around the Commons as though she was on a mission. Finally, next to the eastern wall and after hours of searching, she found a bundle of weeds growing from between two ill-fitting pieces of dull stone. Within was a single shining bloom. The Sister had called it a Venosian Lily, said it was very special and had magical powers. I'd only really been half-listening as she was explaining it. I was too jaded for children's stories. I'd seen too much, done too much.

“Don't worry, Delithia,” Pater said as he jumped off his crate with a sad smile. The crowd around us had began to die down, the people talking amongst themselves, each sharing in the joy of the moment, “Maybe you can give it to her next time?”

I winced. That was the wrong thing to say. Delithia would most likely never see her again. They'd never let the Princess of all of Venos walk the streets of the Commons and, even if they did, what were the chances that the royal guard would allow an orphan to talk to her?

Delithia knew it, too. She may have only been four, but she was wise beyond her years, “You can put me down now, Orin.”

I did as the little lady requested with a barely contained sigh of relief. As I was carefully placing her onto the cobbles, she kissed my cheek with a grin, as though trying to convince us both that she was alright, “Was I too heavy?”

“No, course not,” I grumbled as though offended as I winked at my sister, “You're light as a feather!”

Delithia giggled as she lifted the flower, staring at it forlornly. She had been so excited to give it to the Princess. This was my own fault. I should have told her that it wouldn't be possible, but I felt I would be shattering her fragile hopes before they'd even be raised. She whispered words that weren't meant for me to hear, yet I did, “But the flower will die soon.”

Well... Fuck.

I don't know how Pater knew what I was going to do. But the look he gave me wasn't one which could be interpreted any other way, “You won't do it. I dare you.”

I scowled at my brother. He knew what those words meant. Whenever Pater dared you to do something, you do the exact opposite. It's what the Sister always said, only half in jest, yet I found my hands moving to the flower regardless. Pater was trying to look out for me, this I knew, but I couldn't just do nothing. I sighed and took a knee, wincing as something cricked in my small back, “Do you mind giving me the flower, Delithia? I'll go give it to the Princess for you.”

Delithia's eyes shot open, wide and near consuming her small face, rosy cheeks bouncing as she clutched the flower like it was a lifeline, “You promise?”

“I promise,” I said with a smile. I didn't think about the consequences too much. I reasoned that I was hardly going to be executed in front of the whole of Myrin. I was mostly positive, anyway.

“Orin, you're crazy!” Pater hissed desperately, as I took the flower carefully from Delithia. My brother reached out to grab my arm, to stop me, but I danced out of his grasp, already running through the people gathered around us, “The Sister's gonna be so mad!”

“You dared me! I have to do it. Make sure Delithia can see!” I yelled over my shoulder as I ducked low, slipping between bodies as I attempted to catch the float before it entered the inner city. I felt like something was compelling me, pushing me. I wasn't just doing it for Delithia, I realised. I wanted to see the Princess as well. Like her, this was probably my only chance.

I was so consumed with my own thoughts that I didn't catch sight of the burly bruiser before me until it was too late. I smashed into him head first, yelping as I hit the cobbles with a wince, pain dancing through my left arm. The flower tumbled from my grasp and I immediately scrambled after it, clutching it close. I tried to stand only to have my hand kicked out from under me. I did what you always did in these situations: I curled into a ball and played dead as the first kick struck my ribs. I wasn't particularly surprised that I was being beaten. It was a pretty common occurrence in the Commons for street kids like me.

“Fucking rat!” I glanced up at my attacker, at the ink on his arm. I felt my heart drop. It was a Common Dog, if the tattoos could be trusted. His surly face stared down at me, his mouth twisted into a sneer of utter contempt. Of course I had to run into a gangster while trying to be a noble brother. I really did have the worst luck, “I'm gonna fucking-”

A crack sounded as something hit against the side of the man's head. He cried out, raising a hand to touch against the spot of blood that had formed on his temple. He swung his eyes about, his already livid face turning all the redder as glared at the people around him. They all shied away. No one would help me, I had known and accepted that for years. In the Commons, the only person you could truly rely on was yourself.

I took the chance I was afforded and jumped to my feet, ignoring the sharp signal of agony that my ribs sent screaming to my brain. I had a job to do and I needed to move. If I hurried, if I didn't stop for anything, I could still make it.

I glanced back when I was few feet away and the sight brought me to a dead stop. My breathing became heavy, my heart hammered inside my chest and I clutched the flower in my hand so hard it was a miracle that it didn't fall to pieces.

My assailant was yelling, screaming bloody murder as he stormed after a young girl, one who was of about an age with me. The fact that I was saved by another street kid wasn't lost on me, but all I felt was a fleeting gratitude. I would've ignored girl, would've moved on without a second thought. I don't know why she did what she did and, honestly, I couldn't have cared less. But I knew her.

She turned around, her eyes meeting mine for a fleeting moment. They were the colour of steel, shining, bright and sharper than they had any right to be for one so young. Those eyes widened when they met mine, a crown of rough-cut auburn hair that she'd clearly cut herself whipping about her head in an unseen wind.

I clenched my teeth, anger surging through me like nothing I had ever felt before. The roar of thunder in my ears went unnoticed by the cheering people around me even as the smell of rain filled the air. A fierce breeze began to blow, one which I knew too well, for I always felt it before the coming of a Storm.

I took a step in the direction of the girl, the effort making my body feel like it was screaming. I carried on anyway. The cobbles fractured beneath every step, the vibrations causing the earth beneath to ripple and roil like a living thing. Black clouds began to fill the sky above me, angry and vengeful, as I pushed against the unseen force that was holding me back with just as much fervour. I heard something, like the cracking of glass as the world shimmered.

“Tessa! I'm coming!” I roared, but it wasn't in a voice I recognised. It sounded older, stronger, more suited to one grown than someone small like me. I took another step, then another. My eyes began to bleed but I scoffed as I blinked them away. My bones began to shake but I laughed as they cracked, shattering even within my skin. Nothing could stop me. The Spirit itself could try. I would call to the Lightning and reduce it to fucking dust.

'Wake up, Orin!'

I blinked.

The roar of the crowd once more filled my ears as I glanced around me, confused. The people were still staring after the disappearing float, their enthusiastic shouts a bombastic chorus to accompany the sounds of the musicians following after the royal family. I shook my head, a hand rising up to touch against my nose, pulling my fingers away to reveal a deep crimson. Strange, I thought. I must have hit my head harder than I thought when the thug knocked me down.

Speaking of, I turned in the direction of my one time attacker, watching as he chased some unseen figure around a corner and out of sight. I didn't know who my saviour was, but I didn't have time to ponder the mystery. My sister wanted a flower delivered.

I pounded the stone as I slipped between shaking arms and under congratulatory pats on the back. The smell of ale and wine was heavy on the air, as was the sickly sweet scent of tobacco. The city would celebrate long into the night, a rare reprieve from the hard life of the Commons and deserved by many. I just hoped that I would wake up with them when the grim reality of the following day set in.

I caught sight of the float ahead, a small break the crowd allowing me to spy a small figure in a white dress, waving for all she was worth. I poured on the speed, the lanterns on the edge of the gaudy, gleaming platform the Princess stood on blinding me. I would need to act in an instant, when my opening revealed itself.

I ran up a pile of crates stacked outside of Nerev's Smithy, ignoring the gasps of surprise as panicked faces passed me by. I reached the apex and I jumped, my heart leaping in time with my feet as I soared into the air. I had one clear thought as I was airborne, as I skimmed over the heads of those assembled below.

I am a fucking idiot.

I landed hard, greeted by even harder wood on my fast moving descent. I groaned, barely feeling my fingers as I pressed themselves against the painted surface of the float. I barely felt the pain at all, the sound I made was more one of relief than anything else. I was just thankful that I hadn't smashed against stone. I had reached my goal, I could give the flower to-

“Now what do we have here?”

I realised, very quickly, my mistake. The Princess wasn't alone on the float.

A dozen swords were drawn, many of them aimed towards my chest. Gleaming guard, all female and all dressed in shining plate with deep blue cloaks gently moving with the subtle, southern breeze. I froze, unable to move and unable to think. The guard themselves were not what had given me pause, nor had they caused the whisper of fear to stir within my heart. No, that would be the figure of the woman before me.

She was young, her hair around her shoulders and framing her beautiful face. It was white in colour, like the snows that had only recently fled Myrin. Her eyes were two gleaming chips of ice, staring down at me with the interest one might show an insect or some other similar, lesser life form. I knew who she was, for who didn't?

The First Knight of Venos frowned down at me, the beginnings of a smile on her lips, but there was no humour to be found there. The Knight of the Frozen River was a being that I couldn't quite fathom, my young mind so caught up with fulfilling my little sister's wishes that I hadn't stopped to think, for a moment, that I'd have to get through an obstacle to reach my goal. And so great an obstacle, I had no hope of overcoming.

I'd heard the stories, the rumours that ran rampant through Myrin. They spoke of Vera and her sister, Annabelle. How they were the reason for why we had such cruel winters, why so many died with the coming of the frost. They said that Vera slept on a bed of ice and that her sister's heart was still, frozen so long enough by the tremendous power they wielded.

My knees trembled as I shook. Even being this near to the feared First Knight, I could feel a sliver of her cold embrace. I wished to be anywhere but there, but my stubbornness won out as I shakily raised the flower in my hand. I was only now aware of the fact that music had long since stopped. The eyes of Myrin were upon me, all watching with bated breath to know my fate.

“I have a-”

“No one gave you leave to speak, boy,” The cold voice made my trembling seize and my breathing as well. I craned my head and saw the slightly older twin of the First Knight, clearly her sister, though dressed more finely and with her hair severely tied behind her head, “You would be wise to hold your tongue.”

I growled, my fear dwarfed by my sudden fury. I'd just lobbed myself half-way across the Old Road to deliver this damn flower and by the fucking Spirit, I would see it done, “I have a flower for the Princess!”

“What did I just say?” Annabelle said, a raised eyebrow more devastating than any steel-toed boot to the ribs.

“Allow us to remove his hands, Lady,” One of the guard growled under her breath, grip on her sword tightening, “That should teach him some respect.”

My shaking became all the more pronounced, drawing some cruel laughs from the guard but unable to draw a reaction from Vera or Annabelle, who both continued to stare at me with calculating stares.

“I don't think today is the day for flowers, young man,” Vera said, almost kindly as she glanced at her sister, “Perhaps another day.”

“P-Please,” I should have counted my blessings. I had met the First Knight and Smith of Venos, living to tell the tale to my brothers and sisters. But it wasn't enough. Not to make Delithia smile, “Just let me give this to her.”

Vera's eyes hardened, “I said-”

“Wait!” Jostling startled the blue garbed guard, who each turned to stare at the figure who walked forward, pushing her way through the warriors as though they were nothing at all. Each of them moved for her, stepping aside and bowing deeply as they did so.

That's when I saw her for the very first time.

“Princess, I think-”

“It's fine, Vera,” The Princess smiled shyly in her small voice as she came to a stop behind the First Knight, peering at me from behind her protector. Her eyes were so kind, filled with a warmth that almost reminded me of Delithia, though it was different. I felt at peace under that golden stare, in a way that I never had before. My aches from holding up my sister, the pain in my side from the vicious kick, all of it faded away completely, as though it was never there to begin with, “It's just a flower.”

She stepped around the First Knight hesitantly. I noticed a young boy standing back with the guard, slightly older than the Princess. He watched me with a wary glare, his black hair and blue eyes a startling combination. Two figures stood behind even him, though I didn't glance at them for too long. The crowns on their heads were more than enough to know exactly who they were.

I tried to still my beating heart, sure the Princess of Venos would hear the sound.

“Hello, Princess,” I said dumbly. I had no clue what to say. In truth, this whole venture was a spur of the moment idea that should have ended with my head on a spike. I didn't actually believe I'd be able to pull it off.

“Hello,” She replied just as awkwardly, though you would have thought she was having the time of her life considering the smile on her face, “Is that for me?”

“Yes,” I muttered, suddenly feeling uncomfortable as I lifted the flower in my hand, the shining bloom near glowing in the lamplight that lit the float, “From my sister.”

I wanted to point at Delithia, wanted to draw Elora's attention to her, but I couldn't. I was far too transfixed on the girl before me. She reached out to pluck the lily from my fingers, our hands touching as she did so and time seemed to come to a pause.

The shadows grew longer, reaching out for the both of us. I felt the Dark, felt its warm touch and gentle embrace, cradling me as though I was a lost child in need of comfort. The stars above our heads began to shine all the brighter, a brilliant silver that painted the world around us in an incredible, otherworldly hue. The colour was both beautiful and terrifying, carrying with it a hunger that made everything around us tremble.

“This is where I made you mine,” I said in my small, young voice, glancing around. Everyone turned to stare at me at once. A thousand stares, all blank and without emotion, aiming their eyes at me. Only Elora's remained the same, wearing that smile that I knew I would one day love the sight of more than anything else in the world, “Though I don't quite remember it happening like this.”

“I was always yours, Orin,” Elora said softly, taking the flower from my grasp, “I just wished we realised it sooner.”

“I forgot that I spoke with Vera and Annabelle,” I muttered with a small smile, “But then, all I could see was you.”

Elora grinned, flushing as she lifted the flower to her nose and sniffed it gently, “You always know what to say, my Knight.”

I frowned at my Princess, looking at her anew, my vision cleared as I looked at her, “Why am I here? This isn't real. This all already happened.”

“I know, my love,” Elora suddenly looked so sad, so afraid. Tears began to run down her cheeks as her breathing became heavy. Her eyes were aimed at something over my shoulder, though for the life of me I couldn't turn around to see what it was, “You have to wake up, Orin. You must.”

My eye widened. Suddenly, we weren't two children standing on a float. In the blink of an eye we were grown, my Princess garbed in a dress that was stained with blood, but it wasn't her own.

It was mine.

The lily in Elora's hand was no longer a flower at all. No, it was a blade, shining black and silver, the wisps drifting off of it fading into the vast void that surrounded us. She held it out towards me, her hands shaking and the fear in her eyes causing my heart to break, because I know she wasn't scared for herself. It was for me.

“Wake up, Orin!” Elora shouted and the abyss trembled. Silver stars surrounded us, seeming more like a million eyes, staring at me, as though wondering what I was about to do. Their cold curiosity somehow both curious and mocking.

The sound of singing pricked my ears as I turned to my left, seeing a woman dancing amidst the black and amongst the stars. Her long hair was a tumbling waterfall that spun around her as she moved. The bone white of her dress was a stark contrast to the world around us as her bare feet pressed against unseen surfaces, leaving ripples in her wake as she danced without a care. Her smile evolved into a laugh as the shaking of the void became all the more pronounced, moving in time with the disruptions around us.

I had seen her before. I could feel it in my bones. Memories, half covered in fog appeared from within the deepest recesses of my mind. Images of a rain soaked street, my arms wrapped around my shivering legs with my head bowed, trying with all my might to stifle my sobs. A hand reaching out, a smile as she picked me up and held me close. The very thought of that time summoned feelings of warmth and safety.

But there were others. Many more. Buried deep, drenched in blood and pain. Stark, biting visions of death that I could barely understand, let alone put into context.

I kept my eye on the dancing woman, not daring to look away for an instant. You didn't turn your back on a predator, never showed weakness. That's what this woman was, if she was a woman at all. Her ethereal beauty was only a face for what lay beneath, hiding her true nature behind a veil of innocence. Many things about the appearance of this figure were still shrouded in mystery, but one thing was abundantly clear to me, made all the more prominent by my screaming instincts.

Craven, Gida, Zelato. None of them had made me feel like this.

None of them made me feel so afraid.

I reached for the hand of my Princess, for the comfort that her only her touch could provide, but she was gone, lost to the void. Panic filled me as I spun around to find my wife, calling her name out into the ether, hearing the echo of my voice continue onwards into infinity. No reply came.

“She was never really here, Orin. That was just her reaching for you. Your Princess awaits you in the waking world. She is scared. So very scared.”

I spun back to face the woman, finding she had finally stopped her dance. Pale hands were clasped across her chest as her long hair swirled around her, moving as though through water. I growled and prepared myself, “Who are you?”

“That isn't the answer you're looking for.” The woman said sadly, a sorrowful expression etched into her too perfect face, “Not yet.”

“Did you bring me here?”

She nodded, “To show you the way. The piece that you are missing. To take a step forward, you must look back. You almost broke it for a moment there. I needed to play through the whole memory, I didn't think you'd recognise Tessa. That was a mistake. The next will be easier.”

“I don't understand.” I replied honestly, turning from left to right, expecting some kind of trap.

“No, but you will,” The young woman stated as she bowed her head as though in prayer, “There is one more thing you need to see.”

Her hair began to move erratically, swimming though the air as if it were a living thing. The colour lightened, black no longer as it turned to the deep hue of spilt blood. Tears of crimson rolled down the woman's scalp, staining her porcelain skin as her smile became sickly... wrong.

I blinked and the world changed once more. Gone was the black of the void interspersed with silver stars and the dancing woman, now replaced by a familiar camp ground. A sea of tents as far as the eye could see. In the distance, a fortress rose. Its stone walls seeming impregnable and intimidating even from so far away.

This was Dunwellen.

The heady scent of combat filled the air, a potent mix of steel and smoke. The tang was a fragrance I knew well and the scene before me I knew better still. I kneeled in the dirt, breathing heavy as I leaned on a chipped and near broken sword. The small pieces of armour that I wore were all but in tatters and my wounds were great, staining the earth beneath me. I turned and caught sight of Boldrin, of Tessa. Both of them fought with their lives on the line against the forces of Dunhold, their battle cries echoing out as they met the enemy with a fierce fervour. I spotted Dumas and Padma as well, their efforts the match of my mentor and Smith.

I turned back once more, gazing at my one time enemy that stood a few feet away from me. The Water Knight, for I had never learned her name, stood as a blazing beacon of power. Aurum poured from her every pore as teal light, her ferocious Element on display to all. The shine of madness in her gaze and lips twisted into a cruel sneer.

She aimed to end my life. I couldn't allow that. I wouldn't. Not for myself, but for Elora, who had placed her trust in me. For the band, who had followed me without a word of complaint, who offered their lives for my sake. For Tessa, who would have died to see me safe.

I raised the sword and called to the Element within me. Once more, I saw that all-encompassing silver eye, the embodiment of Space staring down at me with derision and dismissal. I was beneath its notice. Inconsequential next to its awesome power.

The author's tale has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.

Terror cut through me like a blade, but desperation and purpose drove me to take what was mine. I ripped the power free of its grasp and pushed it into my sword, slowly rising to my feet and ignoring the pain of my wounds. The common steel, unable to withstand the strain, turned to dust even as I slashed into the air. A silvery flash followed my swing as an identical one appeared on the chest of the Water Knight, cutting through her Armour and flesh as if it wasn't there at all.

That was when I saw it. Something I had missed. The answer to the question I hadn't known to ask.

For the last day, I'd been feeling something well up inside of me. I had thought it a recent development, but that couldn't have been further from the truth. This was where it had begun, when the mystery of the new Technique had first made itself known to me. I'd just been too blind to see it.

I'd thought it was only raw power I had used, without focus and without real direction. The desperate act of a desperate man. But that wasn't so.

Vera's voice spoke in my mind, “Your Smith has just as much say in the creation of Techniques as you do yourself. Sometimes more, in fact.”

For once, Vera had actually given me a straight answer. I'd thought it was another half-truth, that I had to find the deeper meaning within, but I was wrong. Elora was as much a part of the Technique as I was. It was influenced by her, moulded by her. I had called to Space for many reasons, but the first and most important was her.

An image of my Princess appeared once more, replacing the scene of carnage before me in an instant. She stood in a silent city, atop the very same float where I'd handed her the flower. The Venosian lily was in her hands as she stared down at it fondly, cradling the bloom in hand before she looked up and smiled. In that smile was all the love she felt for me. My heart nearly stopped when faced with that sight.

“First Sword,” She said, and behind her, a woman of silver formed, swimming through the air like a siren from the old tales told by sailors. Her liquid skin was in constant motion as she whooped, flowing through the air with mischief on her lips and merriment in her eyes as she swam around the woman who Forged her. Her laugh was like Elora's, infectious and ringing through my ears like small bells that soothed my soul, “Rionna.”

“First Sword,” I whispered, “Of course. I wasn't fighting alone.”

I didn't draw on Space without help. I remembered Elora's scream of encouragement, remembered her lips at my ear as she cheered me on. She'd shaped it without even knowing. We were a pair, two parts of a whole. Of course it would take both of us to make full use of the power within me. The power that I had drawn from her.

The woman of silver cheered and dove towards my outstretched hand as realisation struck. She changed even as she went, transforming and condensing into a blade of black and silver. I caught her easily, Rionna's grip made for me in a way no other sword was.

“I understand,” I laughed, tapping on the hilt fondly, which prompted a response as a woman poked her tiny head out of a the river of silver, waving at me enthusiastically before diving down and deep, disappearing once more.

“It was her, Orin. It was always her.”

I gasped as the world once again turned black and studded with stars. The dancing woman reappeared, though absent the blood and her hair now returned to its deep, unfathomable black. She was smiling at me sadly, a pain her eyes that reminded me of Tessa in some ways. As if there was a secret there that I wasn't seeing, something so dark that it consumed her from the inside out, “Tell me who you are.”

The woman shook her head, her hair dancing with every movement, “I won't do that to myself. Not again.”

“What are you-”

The shaking began once more, making the first initial event seem paltry in comparison. If I hadn't been standing on nothing at all, I'm sure the tremors would have knocked me to my knees. The stars around us dimmed even as cracks appeared across the impossible void.

“We're out of time,” The woman said gently, “I can only delay so long. You are needed above. Time to fight, Orin. Show them who you are.”

I saw something then, a flicker of light on the voids distant horizon. A doorway that led into a maelstrom of sand, of wind, of death.

Then it hit me. I remembered how I'd come to be here. Berthold, the disk, the arena. Elora's hand reaching out to me, the tears streaming down her cheeks as she strained with everything in her to Bond, then nothing as I flew across the arena.

A pair of lips touched my ear, the whisper that emerged from them final and fading. By the time the last syllable was uttered, I couldn't even remember if I'd heard anything all, “Your Princess is in danger.”

I roared and the world screamed in time with my fury. Rage flowed through my body The cracks grew wider, light spilling through as the stars once more gleamed at the fullness of their potential, nearly blinding me as they beat in time with my heart.

I opened my Eye and broke free of the spiritual world, dragging myself into the light.

*

“Orin, wake up!”

The roar came from within me, from my wife who even at that very moment sat at the very centre of my soul. She sounded exhausted, her breathing heavy as she continued to push all she could into our Gift of Healing. I could feel her desperation over the Bond. It cut through me like cold water, bringing back fully into the world of the living. What I'd just seen was a fading dream, already half gone, but the lesson remained.

The first thing I noticed was Tessa's Bond. It writhed like a snake within me, exuding a stark madness and a rage that was the match of my own. I didn't have the time to soothe her and I was unsure if it would work even if I did. I sensed through our connection that she had given into her emotions in the same way I'd done not so long ago, though at a level that went beyond what I'd experienced in the gazebo. What I needed to do was let her see me, let her know I was alright.

To do that, I had to beat a hurricane.

Elora and I were encased in a towering torrent of wind. The razor sharp blades of air sliced into my flesh on all sides. In some cases, nearly to the bone. Blood churned in the swirling sands around me even as that same sand stung my open wounds, adding all the more to my agony.

I ignored the pain and focused on the problem, focused on Storm.

The wind made it nearly impossible to sense beyond the tornado. Even my Resonant Gift unable to pierce the tremendous amount of Elemental energy and foreign Aurum. But the fact that I could sense the wind gave me an idea. One which appeared fully formed in my mind, a result of words spoken by Tessa upon the creation of my Gift.

While using my Eye, I could manipulate the wind to a certain extent, focus it so that I could see something specific and with more detail. It was essentially useless at the moment, with my range being so limited.

But right now, it was proving itself to be life saving.

I could feel the wind, the way it moved. I watched as it danced about the air, seemingly at random. I banished Elora's voice to the back of my mind, touching the Bond briefly to let her know I was alright as I continued to peer into the hurricane, feeling its violent ebb and flow.

Within seconds I knew it wasn't controlled. It was acting as wind should and had done the only thing it could when released by Berthold. That told me this wasn't a Technique, nothing about it felt shaped or focused. This was a burst of raw power. Something on the scale of what a Master could summon, true, but power was only one side of the coin for a Knight. Skill was just as important, if not more so. I'd proved that when I'd defeated the Fire Knight at Dunwellen.

I winced as yet more blades drank deep of my flesh. My vision swam momentarily as I looked down and spotted blood that had peppered the sands beneath my feet. I shook my head to regain my focus and felt Elora's touch.

“I'm with you, my love,” Her voice sounded sure and confident, bolstering my own spirits immensely as I grinned against the pain and brought my will to bear.

If Berthold had control of the Wind, what I was about to do wouldn't work. Shit, even now I was unsure if I'd be able to pull it off, but if I didn't try, I would die in an arena of Yelmora and my wife would be sure to follow.

Hardly a very fitting fate for the fucking chosen one. I wouldn't allow myself to be killed by a boy who couldn't stand to lose in front of his own father. I refused that destiny and picked another.

I reached out with my hand, feeling the glow of Storm within my skull growing all the brighter as I expanded my mind. I felt for the Wind, held onto it with a tenuous grip. It felt much like compression in a way, but more difficult on a scale that I could scarcely define.

After all, how do you catch the air itself?

“Stop!” I barked, my voice sounding hoarse. I was suddenly aware of my desperate need for water as I coughed, speckles of blood appearing on my hand as I covered my mouth to stop sand from blowing into my lungs.

Nothing happened. The Wind continued to swirl and strike unabated. I felt despair well up inside me as I fell to my hands and knees once more. I couldn't take much more of this, I knew that. A Knight could take a fair amount of punishment. That fact I was aware of better than most, but our Gift of Healing wasn't Resonant, nor were our Aurum supplies infinite. We would run out sooner rather later. If the hurricane had been a Technique instead of just raw Aurum on a rampage, we would already be dead.

“I'm here, Orin!” Elora called out inside my head. I could hear her stubbornness, her refusal to give in, “Always.”

Spirit, but did I love her.

“STOP!” I shouted and reached out with both hands as though to wrangle a dangerous serpent. The Eye of the Storm began to burn inside of my skull as I smelled thunder on the air. Wind and Water are the lesser Elements of Lightning, are subject to its greater will.

I refused to be ignored.

It started slow. The whole hurricane rippled, shivering as I pressed my will against it. I slid away more than once, but managed to re-establish my fragile control before it managed to fully break my hold. Finally, mercifully, after what felt like hours of fighting, I managed to secure my connection.

I gritted my teeth and pushed the wind away from me. The occasional blade still managed to get through, but it had lost most of its bite, leaving bare lines of red on my skin as they struck. I slowly began to break down the hurricane, letting the winds disperse as they willed.

I could have brought it to a complete stop, but I was unsure how that would have presented itself. If the Aurum still contained within reacted violently, then Tessa could be at risk, not to mention the other members of my group and the people in the stands.

As soon as it was completely gone, I collapsed onto my front without bothering to soften my landing. Never before had I felt so exhausted, even after fighting Craven. My Storm Eye flickered, as though letting me know that it too was approaching the end of what it could take. I tried to laugh in relief, but nothing emerged from my dried and cracked throat. As soon as I had the thought, Elora was already healing it, allowing me to speak once more.

“S-Sorry, Princess. I should have seen this coming,”

“Shut up, idiot,” My wife sobbed even as she continued her work. Every wound she closed making me almost euphoric at the sudden absence of pain, “I thought I'd lost you.”

I couldn't hold her. If she returned to the physical world at that moment, the chances of me dying were pretty fucking high at a guess. I smiled at hearing her voice, enjoying its gentle cadence as I closed both of my eyes, “I had a dream about you, you know? About the day we met.”

For some reason, the memory felt fuzzy now. It was almost as if there was something missing, like pieces had been purposely cut away. I didn't have the willpower to focus on the why of it, too consumed by the exhaustion that sank right into my bones.

“Your brain was bleeding, Orin,” Elora was crying. Spirit, I wished I could hold her, “I had to fix it, but you were being cut and I-I couldn't-”

“Hush now,” I smiled softly as I rolled onto my back, staring up above me. The sands were still moving through the air, still following the path of the now absent hurricane. At the peak I could see a clear blue sky, could feel the sun on my face, “You saved me, Elora.”

Elora chuckled through her tears, “Luck was on our side, it seems. How did you stop the Wind?”

“Storm,” I said, “Tess told me that Wind could be controlled by Lightning and I knew Storm could do something similar when I used the Eye. Honestly, it was a guess.”

“Sounds like you,” Elora said softly before she began speaking in a hurried tone, “We have to reach Vera. Whatever Berthold used, it gave him the Aurum of a Master. He nearly killed us both, Orin.”

“Aye,” I said calmly and with a sigh as I opened my eyes again, keeping Storm active as I pushed myself heavily to my feet, “But I won't be going to Vera. Ready for another fight, Princess?”

“Orin, you can barely stand!” Elora yelled, her concern for me as clear as the purest water.

“I know,” I said as I began to rip at the remnants of my tunic, “But I'll be damned if I let the little prick walk away from this.”

I reached out with Storm. The absence of the Wind allowed me to see unfettered as a gentle breeze touched the arena around me. I could finally hear again, though all that reached my ears were the screams of the spectators as they attempted to flee the arena, to escape the horror that Berthold had unleashed upon them all.

I could sense three people on the arena sands. Two of them were Masters, that much was as clear as day to me. I could feel the power inside of them, see it through the Storm. It felt condensed, powerful and one felt familiar. Vera had arrived and seemed to be speaking with the second Master who was holding someone suspended in the air.

Berthold.

I walked through the sands, the floating motes stinging every open wound but I ignored all of it in favour of the Storm, gazing through it as I emerged into the warm sun of Yelmora once more. My eyes went to Tessa first, gazing at her as I touched upon our connection. She was staring at me with a smile on her face, a familiar look in her eye that I hadn't seen in quite some time. Her cheeks were streaked with tears. I took a firm grasp of our Bond, sending all the comfort I could across, to let her know that I was fine. Her smile grew predatory, as she turned to look at Berthold.

I ignored him.

Instead I examined the box in which Tessa sat. It seems that Alden was just finishing a fight with some Knights. The Ragoran leaned on his flaming Weapon and breathed heavily as he stood with his back to Tess, ready to defend her against all comers. His opponents stood nearly, looking far worse off than Alden. Their hands were absent Weapons, instead facing palm up as if to show they weren't a threat, but I knew the former captain of my Smith's guard wouldn't let his guard down as long as there was even a hint of danger.

I quickly took in the rest of my surroundings. The destroyed stands, the scrambling people, the rest of my companions all staring down at me with relieved eyes. I noted Sara August, who was being held by two officials, attempting with all her might to reach Berthold. Her eyes met mine for the briefest of instants. What she saw there must have frightened her, because her own blue eyes widened with terror as she struggled all the harder to break free of the officials hold.

I dismissed Sara August and looked to Vera, seeing her own small smile as she inclined her head. She tried to hide it, but I saw the worry in her frozen eyes. In her hands was her legendary glaive and behind her were strewn the bodies of those that had tried to stop her from jumping into the arena. They were all yet living, if barely. Their injuries touched at the edges by frost.

“Orin of Myrin, I am Ursula Magnus of the Republic,” The last woman, the Master, finally spoke. Her hair was black and her eyes blacker still. She looked like some sort of giant crow, garbed in blackened steel Armour that glowed with an otherworldly hue. She seemed to be of an age with Vera and the way she kept looking at the First Knight spoke to their familiarity.

A question for later.

Ursula continued to speak but I ignored her completely, too focused on the fragments that lay on the sand near the opposite end of the arena. I wouldn't have seen them at all if it hadn't been for the Storm, which drew my attention to the Aurum that was swirling around it. It disrupted the air with bursts of colour. I narrowed my eyes as realisation struck.

It was still active.

Despite being shattered, the strange disk still exuded a tremendous amount of energy. So much so, in fact, that it very nearly blinded me. What was stranger still was the line of pure, white Aurum that left the remnants of Berthold Gaius' weapon. It spun through the air, tangling and twisting, but definitely moving with purpose.

More intriguing still was that it wasn't going to Berthold.

I followed it through the Storm, tracking it back to the connection's origin. I hoped that it stopped before it reached the end of my rather meagre range. Thankfully, it did. Directly into the chest of the man who sat in the box above all our heads.

I didn't look at Roman Gaius. I didn't need to. I could see his expression as clear as day through the power of my Eye. His jaw was slack, his body trembling. I could almost feel his fear at my arrival, at my survival. I could see his tumultuous soul shake and shiver as though begging for him to run.

I nodded as though in satisfaction. I had expected him to be behind his son's attempt to kill me. At least, that was what I assumed his plan was. I wondered for a moment why. What could he possibly gain by having me killed? Or was that the plan at all? The shock on his face spoke to him being unaware of what was going to happen. Perhaps he didn't. Either way, his fate was fucking sealed. I knew he was behind it. That was enough.

Roman Gaius got to his feet, my appearance clearly shaking him as he made a beeline for the stairs leading out of the arena. I hadn't let on that I'd noticed him. My Eye let me see without looking, but he would leave the edge of my range soon and be gone. He hardly seemed the most compassionate father, I doubted he planned to stay in Yelmora much longer. He certainly had the wealth to start over if Lencel was to be believed. His attempt to flee only solidified my decision.

I recalled the memories I'd just relived. Dunwellen in particular. I saw myself raise the broken sword, calling to Space and demanding its power. The last time I'd communed with the entity, it had very early ended in my defeat. But I had been weaker then, unsure of Space's nature. Shit, I hadn't even known its name.

But now I had so much more.

“It was her. It's always been her.” I whispered the words like mantra. I couldn't remember where I'd heard them, but I felt it needed to be said, as though in tribute. I began to raise my hand into the sky.

“Orin?” Elora spoke from within me, confused, “What are you doing.”

“It was you, Elora,” I replied into the quiet of my mind, “You remember the attack I used in Dunwellen?”

“Of course, I do,” Elora replied quietly, “You used Space.”

“No,” I mentally shook my head as my eyes met Berthold's for the first time. Surprisingly, I didn't see fear. No, nothing but resignation dwelt within the young man as he stared up at me, his large body exhausted and ravaged by the power he'd used. His father's power, I now realised, “We used Space.”

“Orin, I don't understand!”

“Neither do I, not really,” I fought to keep the mad grin off my face, fought to keep the bloodlust I felt well up inside me contained. Neither was helped by Savage Smith, who was sending a font of violent intent aimed at Berthold over the Bond, “I have an idea. But I can't do it alone.”

Elora's resolve strengthened at that, “You are never alone, my love.”

“Do whatever you did at Dunwellen, Elora,” I said as I called to Rionna, feeling her well up inside of me, begging to be put to task, to be used, “You shape the power, I only send it out.”

“Shape what!?”

“Our first Technique as Knight and Smith.”

“Orin,” Elora called out desperately, “What if I can't?”

“I know you can,” I said, sending a wave of love over the Bond, “Because it's you.”

I dove down with my spiritual self, soon emerging within my void. I could feel Elora's presence radiating from my towering inferno of black flames, a beacon of golden light shining in the Dark. They roiled with the emotions I was keeping contained, spitting into the ether even as they twisted back amongst themselves, covering the entrance to my soul, almost as though they were trying to protect Elora on my behalf. I looked around me, seeking the entity that embodied my elusive Element.

But this time I did something different. At Dunwellen, I had went in search of Space and that had been a mistake. Space touched all things, moving through the spiritual as well as the physical. All Elements were moved by it, all aspects of the world. I knew that now. Just because I couldn't see it, didn't mean it wasn't there.

I extended one of my constructed hands, bringing my will to bear on the void around me. I had been leery of approaching my own Element since I had learned the effects it had on the mind of Zelato from the King. Before that even. I'd been terrified during that first meeting, with only my stubbornness allowing me to draw the necessary energy I needed before my terror and awe got the best of me.

Things were different now. I was different.

I sensed it. It was there, right over the horizon. Both close enough to touch and so far beyond my reach that it would take an eternity to cross the distance. I looked in its direction, fixing it with a stare as a flash of silver struck the air. I could feel the Dark around me, so eager to help as it flowed in one direction, pointing the way. I grinned and continued to look even as my mind reached out.

“I know you're there,” I spoke with confidence, with authority, “You are my power. I'm done begging for help.”

With a suddenness that took me aback, I found myself once more standing before that silver eye.

Again the vastness of it struck me. So large that the Dark could no longer be seen while also seeming simultaneously small beyond measure. It was an impossible thing, a chaotic and writhing mass of pure, shapeless energy. I felt the consciousness touch against my own, seeking as it once had to dominate and control me.

The temptation was great. The strength it promised was incalculable. It was a monarch of all it surveyed. If I only gave in, accepted its embrace, I would receive all I wanted and more besides. Berthold, Gida, Zelato and even the Mentor, none would be able to stand before me. If I only gave in, if I only bowed my head.

I wonder if that was the source of Zelato's madness?

I staggered as the pressure struck against my very soul. I could feel my black flames in the distance, could feel them flounder before the might of the being that was arrayed against us. The iris of that silver eye fixed itself to me, the colour growing darker as it reached the central, pinprick of pure light. In it I saw the endlessness of all things. Its ageless wisdom and complete lack of empathy for the physical world. The Dark felt warm, cared for those under its purview, but Space had been alive for long before the Dark and the Light even existed. It believed itself a God and perhaps that wasn't far from the truth.

I felt something then. A touch on the shoulder, a kiss upon my cheek. My Princess. I saw the same image I had before, of Elora standing alone on the float in Myrin. Though this time, things were different.

Thousands stood on the edges of the Old Road. All were on their knees, all kneeled in supplication to my wife. Their heads bowed in respect, their deference unquestioning and their loyalty absolute. An obsidian crown speckled with silver stars sat amidst Elora's golden hair, her black eyes set with the same. In her hands she held our Weapon. Rionna's voice was childish and mischievous as she cried out with joy inside my mind.

Yes, Space was a monarch of all it surveyed.

But the Element came from Elora. What was my Princess, if she wasn't a Queen? I'd known that since I was boy, the memory of how we met just putting it into perspective.

“And what are you, but a King?”

I reached out and grasped a hold of Space, feeling Elora behind me, feeling her love, her support, her compassion. I recalled her head in my lap as she slept in that shitty wagon, thought back to how I gazed down at her. It was the first time I'd ever felt something so real, so pure.

“First Sword.”

I spoke in the real world as well as the spiritual, Elora's voice joining my own as our minds became closer than they ever had before. I saw myself through her memories, felt her fear in Paldrum, her desperation to protect me during the Severance. I saw her wake up in the night at the orphanage, watched her creep through the silent halls to check on me as I slept. She would just sit near my bed and watch me as I breathed, taking comfort in my presence.

Space roared, screaming and thrashing as it tried to escape the bindings that Elora and I had placed upon it, but we couldn't be denied. The Dark was warm, Lighting was wild. Each Element had their own personalities, their own way of viewing the world.

Space sought to dominate and so must be dominated in turn.

I drew the power into my hand, taking just enough to make what I wished to do a reality. It wasn't as much as I'd taken during Dunwellen, but it was enough for the moment. I called to Rionna and she disappeared from Elora's hand, reappearing in my own. I held her tightly as reality began to bend in both realms of existence.

“This sword lets us strive for better,” I smiled as I was suddenly facing Elora, who stared up at me, absent her crown and with a matching expression. We only had eyes for each other as Space thrashed around us.

“Go get him, Orin,” My Princess grinned, a hint of violent intent to her smile. I think Tess might have been rubbing off on her.

I laughed into the void as I returned to the physical world, staring down at Berthold, who had closed his eyes, murmuring something to himself under his breath as he trembled. I pushed the sliver of Space I had taken into my blade, feeling everything compress and expand simultaneously.

Roman Gaius was in the stands now, trying to lose himself in the crowd. I focused, taking a breath and exhaling as all sound suddenly faded away. The people, the heat, all of it was resigned to the background as I tightened my grip on Rionna's hilt, feeling tiny hands press themselves into my thumb as though in support of my actions.

“Rionna.”

Rionna was her name and this attack belonged to her as much as to Elora and I. It felt fitting that this first attack should be named after her. I swung the sword down. A flash of silvery light followed my cut as I did so.

Then the world returned to normal.

There was no great explosions, no massive expulsion of energy or blasts of Aurum. No, this first Technique was subtle and absolute, much like the Element itself was.

Berthold opened his eyes hesitantly, confused as he stared up at me, then moving his gaze to the sword held lightly in my hands. Vera and Ursula looked equally unsure, the First Knight of Venos staring at me with a quizzical expression on her face.

I sighed with relief, my body covered with sweat as I banished Rionna, placing my hands on my knees as I fought to stay conscious. I shook my head and grinned, satisfaction filling me. It was then that I spotted a gleaming spot of gold in the sand at my feet. I frowned at it, wondering as to why it was so familiar as I leaned down, picking it up in a shower of shining particles.

It was Tessa's favour, intact and completely whole. The soft fabric soothed my very soul as I reached out to Tess' Bond, tugging on it to let her know to look as I turned to face her. My mercenary looked just as confused as the others did. Surprised that Berthold was still breathing after my attack. I shrugged, winking at my savage Smith as I made a show of securely tying the favour around my bare arm, using my teeth to fasten it securely. Tessa flushed and rolled her eyes at me even as she chuckled under her breath.

A sudden wash of panic ran through me as I hurriedly reached up to my hair. It seemed that the piece of Elora's dress I kept was still whole as well. I chuckled, making sure that, too, was securely fastened.

There was something comforting about having a piece of each of them so close

“Count Orin of Myrin,” The Republican Master, Ursula, was the first to speak. Her tone was measured, earnest and considerate, though I noticed she hadn't exactly let her guard down as her black Armour was still firmly in place, “May I ask what you just did?”

“Killed one of the men responsible for all this madness,” I replied with a yawn. Spirit, but did I feel tired. I could only imagine how Elora felt. She hadn't stopped to rest after we'd used First Sword, her focus still very much fixed on Healing as she sought to repair my wounds, “You're welcome.”

Ursula frowned, “I believe I'm missing something.”

“You should have listened when I tried to explain, Ursula,” Vera said with a shake of her head, “I had no part of what took place here.”

“I wasn't accusing you, Lady Vera, I just-”

“But you didn't exactly trust me, either. Your people panicked and you joined them,” Vera shook her hand as though dismissing the woman, banishing Illithin as she did so, “It matters not. Orin has seen to it.”

“Besides, Vera's Element is Ice, not Wind,” I said with a frown as I raised a brow at the First Knight, “She really think you were the one behind all this?”

Vera shook her head, “No, it was a misunderstanding. Not helped by Alden summoning his Weapon as soon as they appeared. Ursula couldn't sense the source of the Aurum. I wouldn't have been able to either if I hadn't been here to see it. Whatever Berthold did it threw everything into disarray. The device he used made it nearly impossible to pinpoint the source. It was too chaotic and wild. Ursula saw me and made assumptions. Her people attacked, believing us the threat.”

“I apologise for that, Lady Vera, Count Orin,” The Master said as she bowed her head to Vera. It seemed their was another hierarchy amongst the Masters themselves, considering the deference that one of the same rank was showing to the First Knight, “I didn't know Berthold Gaius was the source until after he launched his attack. My foolishness, and that of my Knights, very nearly cost us.”

“Think no more of it,” Vera said, “It's done now.”

I turned to Berthold Gaius, who was looking between all of us with a confused expression on his face, “Not quite yet.”

A blood-curdling scream caught the attention of all around me. I kept staring at the man on his knees. I already saw what was happening through the Storm.

A woman was staggering backwards from the dead body of Roman Gaius. His head was gone, sitting a dozen feet away from him and fixed in an expression of abject terror. He hadn't seen the blow coming and how could he? The strike had hit him from over twenty feet away.

Berthold's expression filled with pain, with sorrowful loss, as he caught sight of his father's body. He sobbed into the air, closing his eyes and clenching them along with his fists, his teeth gritting. Realisation quickly set in after that as he looked up at me with rage in his eyes, taking in my impassive expression, in my disgust. With a desperate cry he jumped to his feet and threw a clumsy punch. I caught it easily and held him there.

He brought his other fist to bear, slamming hooks into my side with reckless abandon, but they lacked the weight they had once held. Whatever he had done to himself with that disk, it had damaged his Gifts, it seemed. That, or his Smith just wasn't helping him anymore.

He continued to futilely pound on my chest. I could barely feel his strikes but he continued regardless, tears pouring down his face as his attacks grew weaker and weaker. He looked pathetic, weak.

I pitied him.

Fuck. I knew what I needed to do.

I squeezed, crushing his hand within my own. His scream of pain filled the arena as he tried harder to free himself, finding it all for naught. I pulled back a fist of my own as Elora filled me with Strength.

Something slammed into my side, separating Berthold and I. The large man fell onto his back, clutching his hand and gasping with pain. I snarled at the invader, Ursula Magnus, who now stood protectively over Berthold, her eyes fixed upon my own, “Calm yourself, Orin of Myrin. Enough blood has been spilt today. Better heads must prevail.”

“Is that a fact?” I replied hoarsely as I rolled my shoulders, “Roman Gaius was the man who filled whatever that thing was with power. He gave it to his son with the intention of killing me, or defeating me at the least, since Berthold didn't have the stomach to face me with honour. His fate is sealed, Ursula Magnus. Stand aside.”

Ursula's mouth fixed into a line, “I cannot do that. Berthold Gaius is already a hero to many in Yeles. I cannot have him killed in the sands of the arena. Your claims as to Roman's involvement will be investigated, you have my word. For now, I will have to take you into custody, for his murder, as well as Berthold for the attempt on yours. This isn't Venos, Count Orin, and you will adhere to the laws of the Republic.”

I laughed bitterly as I shook my head, “Vera-”

Ursula suddenly disappeared.

A shock wave rang out into the arena, the sandy ground rippling as an explosion of stone signalled the Yelesi Master's reappearance. Ursula Magnus' Armour was cracked and broken, her face cut and bleeding from a dozen wounds. Her wide eyes were a font of pain and surprise as she coughed blood. The wall she was embedded in was almost completely destroyed.

The First Knight of Venos stood between the Master and I, her eyes staring down at the broken and beaten Ursula with a glare that was as cold as her Element, “You will not touch the Lord again, Ursula of Yeles. Your people started this fight and we will see it through. You can complain to the Senate you serve at a later date. Until then, you will stay down. If you rise or make any attempt to stop Orin, you will be dead in the next instant. Do I make myself clear?”

Ursula didn't respond. Fuck, I doubt she'd heard anything that had been said. Her eyes seemed slightly glazed over, as though she hadn't quite understood what had just happened. Vera turned to me and nodded in support. I returned the gesture, though I was more than a little surprised. I was going to ask her to talk Ursula down, not throw her into a fucking wall.

But you couldn't argue with results.

“Get up, Berthold,” I said to the shivering form of the giant, who still lay on the ground at my feet, “Our fight is not over.”

The giant glared up at me, but most of his fight was already gone. Seeing his father's body had given him a second wind but reality had quickly cut the legs from under him. He couldn't hope to win against me on his best day and this was hardly that. Unfortunately for him, I wasn't willing to give him the chance to recover. Berthold pushed himself painfully to his feet, clutching his crushed and mulched right hand to his chest.

“Kidis, leave your brother,” I spoke into the air, my words aimed for the Smith within Berthold's chest.

A second ticked by, then another and another. Nothing happened. Berthold began to look terrified. I knew they were speaking but I had no way of knowing what was being said. Hopefully, Berthold managed to convince his sister to leave before I lost my patience.

Mercifully, less than a minute later, light emerged from Berthold's chest. His body sagged with his sister's leaving, almost though she was the only thing that kept him suspended. He gasped as the pain in his hand returned anew. Kidis formed next to him, her eyes aimed at the sand beneath her feet, the shame on her face all encompassing and complete.

“Elora.” I whispered to my wife.

“No,” My Princess replied stubbornly, “You're still bleeding from a dozen wounds.”

“Please, my love,” I said softly, “Just for a few moments.”

Elora hesitated, but I knew she would do as I asked. Light emerged from my chest and I felt my own exhaustion hit me a hundred times harder, but I ignored it in favour of the sight of my wife. Elora looked beautiful even with her hair and dress all but ruined by the vicious winds that struck her before she could reach me. Before she'd even fully formed, I took her into my arms, holding her close and taking comfort from her embrace. My Princess buried her head into my shoulder. I closed my right eye, careful to hide the secret of Storm.

“I thought I'd lost you.” She said again, her voice cracking as I felt a quake run through her body.

“Never,” I murmured as I pulled away to look her in the eye. She had a small cut on her cheek, the only visible wound that I could see. I pressed a finger under it gently as she winced, “Are you alright?”

“I'm fine, Orin,” Elora sighed as she leaned back into me, “This is nothing compared to what you went through.”

“What, all this?” I snorted sarcastically as I looked down at my bare torso, “This is standard fare since I met you, Princess.”

Elora laughed as she kissed me, “It really is, isn't it? You must hate me.”

“No,” I replied with a wry smile, “It was all worth it.”

“We did it, Orin,” Elora grinned up at me enthusiastically, her golden eyes alive with excitement, “Our first Technique.”

“I know.” I said, still slightly bewildered that we'd managed to pull it off.

“Orin of Myrin,” Kidis spoke up in her small voice, “Please-”

“Be silent, Kidis Gaius,” I said dangerously, turning my gaze to fix my eye upon the young woman before me. More than a little annoyed that she'd ruined the moment between Elora and I, “Nothing you say will change what is about to happen. Nothing.”

“Please, Count,” Berthold grumbled, “Don't hurt Kidis. This was all my fault. The device... it distorted my mind, made me see things that weren't there. I-”

“Am a coward? Eager to excuse your actions?” I finished as I stepped away from Elora. I glanced over her shoulder and saw that Tessa, Boldrin and the others had made it to the arena. My Smith looked more than ready to join the coming fight, but I shook my head at her softly, to let her know to stand away, “Elora, go to Tess.”

My Princess nodded and made her way over to her Sister-Smith, the two standing side by side as they watched on from a safe distance.

“I wanted to see what type of man you were, Berthold,” I said as I brushed my hands, smiling at my two Smiths, “In my experience, people are rarely what they present to those around them. But in a fight, you can't hide. You reveal a lot about yourself in battle. Initially I believed you a doting brother, one who wished to keep his sister safe above all other things.”

“I do.” Berthold said quietly, but I was already shaking my head.

“No, you don't,” I said with a sigh, “You're a coward who hides behind that lie so you can justify listening to your father. In truth, you are nothing at all, Berthold Gaius. Not a warrior, not a brother, nor a son. You are as empty as the husk that once contained your father's soul.”

I waved a hand in the direction of Roman Gaius' dead body, watched the pain flash across Berthold's eyes once more.

“I'm going to teach you a lesson, Berthold,” I said, still not looking at the man, “In front of your sister and your people. You'll learn it in this arena, not as a fighter, but as a snivelling boy. That is how you will be remembered.”

“Please, Sir Orin,” Kidis cried as she looked on, “I know he has done wrong, but he is a good man. He can be good again.”

“I thought so, Kidis, I truly did,” I turned to the youngest Gaius sibling, “But my kindness was returned with blood. I will offer the same.

I turned to him then and finally let my fury rise to the fore. I let my soul out, let it bleed into my body and fill me with righteous anger as I gritted my teeth and hands, “Prepare yourself,”

“No!” Kidis and Sara shouted together as I ran to Berthold pulling back my fist and ready to take his head off with a single, terrible blow.

The man closed his eyes, resigned to his fate and ready to meet it.

But the strike never came.

Berthold opened his eyes after a few seconds of pregnant silence. He was greeted with my fist before his eyes, a hair's length away from crushing his skull. He held his breath as he looked past my outstretched hand to my furious face.

I took a deep breath, taking control of my anger and squashing it completely. After this most recent bout with Space, my soul held little power over the way I saw the world. I'd said I wouldn't allow my emotions to rule me any longer and I had meant it. My rage was just, was right, but killing Berthold wasn't something I could allow myself to do. In the end, it was no punishment for him at all. It gave him what he wanted and damned those he loved, “Did you truly think I would do it?”

The giant said nothing, staring at me with wide eyes, “I don't understand.”

“If I killed you, Berthold of Yelmora, your sister would pay the price,” I said, nodding my head to the demure form of Kidis, who had crumpled into Sara's arms, “If I killed you, there's a chance she would follow you into the Infinite. Once again, hiding behind Kidis has served you well.”

Sara collapsed with Kidis in her arms, tears pouring down both of the girls faces as they wept with relief. Berthold looked to them with nothing on his face but shame.

“I... I can't live like this,” Berthold sobbed as he turned to me once more, “Not after what I've done. Please... Please, kill me.”

I punched him in the temple, the blow shocking all present and Berthold most of all as he crumpled to the ground, clutching at his head with a sob as I growled, “Do not fucking tempt me. The last man who threatened Elora is rotting in a ditch somewhere. I'm barely containing myself as it is. This is not what I wish to do, but it is the right thing.”

I looked to my Princess then, seeing her smile with affection as she nodded in my direction earnestly. I knew I'd made the right choice. Tessa's expression was the opposite, still glaring at Berthold with the promise of death in her eyes. I'd have to put a stop to that before she actually attempted it.

This was only real solution. When I'd exited the remnants of the vision in my mind all I wanted was the blood of Berthold, to snap his neck with my hands and feel the life leave his body for daring to even think of hurting Elora. But that ended in nothing but pain for all involved. Rig may lose Kidis, Sara would lose Berthold. That was no victory.

It didn't help that the young lass reminded me of Delithia with her delicate innocence. Killing her brother in front of her would have replaced my rage with something hollow. Berthold himself was so pathetically weak that killing him would the equivalent of taking the life of a child. I wasn't like him. I still had my honour.

I walked up to Kidis and Sara, already banishing the broken giant from my mind, to fight the temptation to turn around and cave in his skull, “You are not without blame either, Kidis. You were too weak willed to even attempt stopping your brother. There are a dozen things you could have said or done and this fight would never have taken place.”

“I didn't-”

“No fucking excuses,” I growled, “Everyone you've met may treat you like a child, but I won't. Own your mistakes. I saved your life for Rig's sake not for yours. If it wasn't for him, for the kindness of the Augusts, you and Berthold would be on your way to meet the fucking Spirit and I wouldn't bat an eye.”

Kidis trembled beneath my stare before she lowered her eyes, unable to even meet my own. It was a lie, but a good one. I hoped it would push her to become stronger, to yank herself free from the yolke of her brother.

“Kill me!” Berthold stumbled to his feet, his voice cracking and betraying his young age, “Please! Orin! K-Kill me!”

I turned and looked to Berthold Gaius one last time, “Look around you, Berthold. Look at the faces in the stands. I may not have taken your life but I didn't need to. There is more than one way to end someone. I'd say you'll learn that better than most in the coming days.”

Without another word, I walked towards my waiting party, taking in the warming sight that was the faces of my two Smiths who each took a hold of me as I approached. Elora immediately turned to light and entered my body to finish tending to my wounds as Tessa helped keep me upright, her head digging into my shoulder as I slung an arm over hers.

“Should've killed him,” Tessa growled under breath as she drew herself as close to me as she physically could, “He deserves it.”

“He's already dead, Tess,” I said as I wiped at the tears under her eyes, making her cheeks flush with the contact, “I killed his father, destroyed his reputation. I couldn't punish the girl for his mistakes.”

Tessa sighed and leaned her head against me, “You're too soft, Orin. One day, that'll get you killed.”

“No, it won't,” I grinned down at my savage Smith, “Because you'll save me.”

Tessa snorted but said nothing. I did note she had a small smile on her face.

I left the arena to silence instead of applause. The only sound reaching me being the gentle crying of the giant as he fell to his knees. His despair a keening note that filled the air and marked the end of the Festival of Chivalry.