Hundreds of people pass through the vaunted gates of Venos every single day. Some come from the country itself, while others arrive from beyond Venosian borders, visiting from far flung lands like Andapa, Zealeth and even the United Duchies of Uldin to the west.

The man watched their comings and goings as he walked among them. The sun had recently reached its peak and the entrance to Myrin was at its busiest. Caravans packed with goods mixed with travellers of every conceivable distinction, all hoping to gain entry to the Venosian seat of power.

The man's eyes examined the hectic crowd with the smallest of smiles on his face. He enjoyed the pure chaos of it, the barely contained energy within each and every person, the excitement he could hear in every breath. It was a simple joy, he supposed, but it was one of the few pleasures his constant travelling afforded him.

He would often create stories about the strangers that surrounded him. They became friends in the depths of his mind as he puzzled over their pasts. The first he spotted closer to the gate. A young man of about seventeen, his eyes wide and wandering as he stared up at the Spires in disbelief. All to his name was a small sack, most likely filled with the few treasures the young lad had managed to accumulate over his few years of life. He was here for a better life, the man thought, here to make a name for himself in the bright and shining beacon of Myrin. Perhaps he would, but knowing the city as the man did, he believed that the innocence in the boy's eyes was his weakness. It was one that the seedier elements of Myrin would take advantage of. Most likely the boy would return to his home with the dawn, heartbroken and bereft of coin. His little adventure coming to an end before it even had a beginning.

He then spotted a woman further ahead, a merchant going by her dress sense and the way she clung onto one of the smaller caravans like her life depended on it. This was important to her. She was not a successful seller, that much was clear. Her clothes, though fine to commoners, was threadbare and looked to have been repaired many times. This trip to the market would make or break her, he realised. Should she succeed, a great purse and greater smile was in her near future. Should she fail, well, it would be the end of her coin and career.

The line moved along as yet another person was admitted into the city. The guards were unusually alert, but the man had expected as much. He had heard of Myrin's recent troubles, ones which would cause any competent government to tighten the reigns on assets under their purview. An attack on the crown Princess was a hard thing to hide from the outside world. The man wouldn't be surprised if every ruling body in Ouros knew of it by now. More importantly, they knew of who prevented it.

“Out of my way!” The man was nudged, pushed aside like so much trash. He frowned at the large and entitled fellow who brushed by him. Dressed in gaudy finery and enough gold to sink a ship, the Nobleman shoved his way to the front of the line and was immediately allowed entry by the guards after a brief show of some papers. Little had changed on that front it seemed, much to the man's disappointment. Venos was still a thrall to the caste system: The Nobles ruled while those not born to power scrounged beneath them.

Patience was a virtue they had never learned. It was lucky that the man allowed himself to be moved. He had no need to hide who he was, of course, but it would be better not to accidentally injure a Nobleman here. It might cause some of the braver guards to do something foolish and the man so hated to take life without need.

An hour later and he found himself at the front of the queue, smiling at the many guards who stood watch. They looked him up and down, their expressions not impressed by what they saw. The man couldn't say that he blamed them. He had been on the road for some time and his clothes bared clear signs of it. He was dressed in a patched tunic, once elegant but now so covered in dirt and grime it might as well have been made of sackcloth. His hose, breeches and boots were in a similar state of disrepair. He had made sure to shave and clean his face at least, which should make him somewhat presentable. His hair remained much the same, neatly cut close to the scalp. It had once been the rich gold of straw but time had leached the life from it most successfully, leaving it grey. His age had yet to touch him physically, however, with his body and face looking like those of a man who had seen only thirty winters. An aspect of his Knightly powers was the cause and it was one he couldn't complain about in the least. He remained the same while the world around him was in a constant state of change. There was some strange poetry to that.

“Name?” The guard who asked the question was female and abrasive, but the man did not take offence. It was difficult to man the gates to a busy city like Myrin and rarely was the work very rewarding.

“Samuel,” He said simply and with a small bow, hoping to make this as painless as possible for them both.

“Just Samuel, I suppose? No House name?”

“Unfortunately not. I have been offered several times but I never found the need to have so grand a thing.”

The guard looked at him with her head slightly askew for a moment before rolling her eyes and continuing, “Business in Myrin?”

“I am here to meet with someone. I should be leaving within the day.” Samuel was always honest. He despised the lies of the deceitful. Venos was a cesspool for such things, for honeyed words that sounded pleasing to the ear but were in fact poison that infected all who heard them. Having said that, omitting certain details was encouraged in situations like these, when the full truth would only hinder him in his quest and cause pain to others.

“Uh huh, and where are you coming from?” The guard asked after writing down his reason.

“Ingemar.” Samuel replied shortly as he examined the great entrance to Myrin and beyond into the Commons, “To the south of the country to be specific.”

“Long way just to meet someone,” The guard said in a gruff tone. Samuel knew she spoke the words just to have something to say rather than for the sake of any suspicions she may harbour.

“Oh, but this person is quite special indeed,” Samuel smiled then, his dark eyes shining.

“Ah, a lover then,” The guard nodded as though that was enough to sate her curiosity and Samuel made no move to correct her. He found himself wondering what her story was. He also wondered if he might have to kill her later. He hoped not, but mortals did tend to get involved where it was not their business. He would make it quick should the worst come to pass.

With a hurried gesture to move him along the guard moved from Samuel to the next person in line. The poorly dressed man walked into the Commons with the confidence of one who had been there before. It'd been nearly ten years since his last visit, he was unsure if even the King and Queen knew of it. He had been hunting a man who managed to coerce a Smith into Bonding with him. Said man had then proceeded to rob travellers on the roads of Venos, taking their hard earned coin for himself and spending it lavishly. Samuel eventually cornered the man in Myrin, his extravagant taste and inability to avoid telling anyone he met that he was a Knight making it almost painfully easy.

He had begged and pleaded like the rest, then he tried to fight. It was always the same, with no variation. For some reason those he hunted always believed if they caught him off guard they would be able to win. He took some small amount of enjoyment when they realised that they were wrong. It remained on their faces even after they died.

He had researched Myrin again at the Hall, pulling up updated maps of the city. He knew the route to his destination by heart and walked with purpose as he made his way there. He had not lied to the guard: He would be leaving today. The manner of his leaving was entirely up to his quarry.

He arrived at his destination after only twenty minutes of stalking the cracked cobbles. More than once he caught eyes staring at him from a darkened alley, but it appeared that cutthroats were wary of trying to rob him in the light of day. They should be thankful, their cowardice saved their lives.

The building was large and looked to have been recently renovated. It was far more impressive than the dilapidated structures surrounding it which was another sign he was in the right place. He'd heard the Princess of Venos had taken special care of the orphanage and it appeared that the information gleaned from the Hall's spies was correct. He smiled brightly at that, pleased that the first step had proceeded as expected. It was a good omen for his mission.

He felt a stirring within him as he reached the steps. He paused and waited to see if anything would come from it, head cocked to the side as he awaited her word. When the silence persisted he nodded to himself and continued onwards. She must have shifted in her sleep, as she was wont to do. Another good sign for things to come.

He did not stop to knock. While it would have been the polite thing to do, he had too many experiences where people thought they could flee if they saw him coming. It was futile in every instance and always ended the same way. He admired the tenacity, the need to survive, but there were also times when one must accept fate. Running was not intelligent, nor would it result in a stay of execution. It just caused him a minor headache.

He was pleased to note that the door swung open without a sound. Samuel walked inside with his hands clasped behind his back, his posture low and deferential. It wouldn't do to scare the children, after all.

Unfortunately, there were no children to greet him. Nor did he detect a Wife of the Great Spirit. With a frown, Samuel reached out with his Spiritual Sense, combing the hallways, bedrooms, kitchen and dining room of the orphanage with a thought. He discovered nothing.

They had known he was coming.

With an aggravated sigh, Samuel tapped a finger against his leg in consternation. He had expected them to know, of course. One must always plan for the worst case scenario, but even knowing that, he could not help but find their absence somewhat inconvenient. He still had options. The King and Queen were up in their palace, but that came with complications. He would much rather avoid combat but it seemed they weren't giving him much of choice. Making a decision, he turned to the door.

“Leaving so soon?” A voice echoed down the hallway. The tone was filled with snide overconfidence, one he had heard in a thousand different men and women who believed they held the upper hand. That wasn't what caught his attention, however. He was sure that he had examined the entirety of the orphanage, from the roof on down to the foundations, and yet he had sensed nothing beyond a few rats.

Interesting.

Samuel continued to walk down the hallway towards the voice's source. He suddenly felt a little more invigorated. Who would be able to hide from his Spiritual Sense? He could only name one and she never left Tyra's borders. How very strange.

It was a trap, of course, or perhaps a distraction. Either way mattered little. What did matter was that Samuel's curiosity was piqued and he needed to see it eased. He felt a small smile form on his lips as he glanced about at random, his Senses still active and searching for the invisible voice.

“The King knew you would come here,” The voice continued, its smugness completely justified in Samuel's opinion, “We moved the Sister and the children to a safe location. We couldn't have the family of our future King being killed now, could we?”

“I avoid the killing of children whenever possible,” Samuel replied as he walked, his pace even, “I abhor the taking of life without need.”

The Knight of the Hall frowned as he caught sight of something out of the corner of his eye. It was carved into the wall, subtle and meant to be overlooked, but very little could hide from his eyes. He examined the small symbol, an Inscribed rune of a like that Samuel had never seen before. He recognised it as Desew, or 'contain'. It was a potent rune and would have only reinforced his theory of a trap had it not been for the strangeness of the meaning behind the glyph. It seemed to be focused on something else, or someone else. There was another rune hidden beneath Desew, a small thing and barely noticeable. Kratovar, 'Beast'.

Stranger and stranger still. Samuel continued onwards.

“Ah, but if you found the need you would? A risk we were not willing to take, I'm afraid.”

Samuel chuckled, “No matter. I will find them soon enough. Even if I do not, I can always visit the palace. Better still, you could tell me where the Heir is.”

“I doubt you are that persuasive. As for the King and Queen, they are expecting you,” The voice said, “But they thought it would be best if we spoke first. I've heard tales about you, Samuel of the Hall. Your very name, and the name of your Smith, terrifies people.”

“Most make me seem far more grand than I am,” Samuel replied modestly with a shrug, “I wouldn't take them too seriously.”

“Yet so many people do,” The voice said curiously, “You know the expression: In every legend there lies a single grain of truth.”

Samuel emerged into a courtyard with an open view of the sky above. A large tree stood at its centre, surrounded by a bountiful array of flowers. Samuel noticed that the grass was scorched in places, almost as though it had been set aflame and was blackened as a result. He put the concern of the gardening to the back of his mind as he caught sight of the man sitting on a small bench beneath the tree.

He seemed to be a rather forgettable fellow. His brown hair was scraped tight against his skull, his eyes a duller shade of the same lacklustre colour. He looked to be a warrior, though more of a shadowy rogue with sinuous and compact muscle than a hulking berserker. He had an easygoing smile plastered on his lips as he leaned back on the bench without a care in the world, his legs folded as he stared at Samuel from across the green.

“Interesting,” Samuel said quietly. He examined the man thoroughly, searching for any sign of Knighthood and yet coming up empty. More than that, his senses seemed to brush over the stranger as if he wasn't even really there to begin with. Even his soul was absent. He was well dressed, impeccably so, and yet not to the point that he seemed to draw the eye. He almost seemed to fade into the background.

“Isn't it?” The man smiled, relaxed as he was, “I'm sorry for being so mysterious, but I have been known to be a touch dramatic at times.”

“Please, there is no need,” Samuel waved a hand dismissively as he walked closer, “It is rare that I am surprised.”

The man shifted on his seat, looking rather pleased with himself, “You know, I thought you would look older. I work with Duke Brynyar, Lord High Chamberlain of the House of Hymns. He said he trained you for a time when you were both younger men.”

“Ah, Brynyar,” Samuel smiled at the mention of his old mentor, “A good teacher, one with as many lessons for the mind as the body. I heard about Utmand. A terrible lose for the continent. Please convey my sympathies when next you see him. As for my age, well, I won't comment on it. I'm sure you understand.”

“I do and I will,” The man nodded contritely, “I heard you never tell a lie. Is that true?”

“So it is said,” Samuel replied as he examined the flowers at the base of the tree, “I omit certain details at times, but it is as you say. I believe that deception breeds contempt in men.”

“You're not wrong there, but I believe that view of the world conflicts rather heavily with my own line of work.”

“Speaking of, you still have me at a disadvantage,” Samuel said, “Your name is...?

“Yale. Spymaster Royal for Venos and a close personal friend of their Majesties. They send their regrets for not being here. I believe they will join us presently.”

“That is a lie.” Samuel's reply was immediate and without the slightest hint of doubt as he plucked a flower free from its home. It was wasteful, but he wished to partake of its scent.

Yale laughed and clapped his hands, his grin only growing wider, “You are good. I heard you could do that. I would kill for that kind of power. The ability to tell when someone is lying must be quite the boon.”

“It has its advantages, like anything else,” Samuel said with a sigh, “Of course, it also comes with its share of drawbacks. Being able to tell when someone is lying makes everyone terribly predictable.”

“I can only imagine,” Yale said with a smirk.

Samuel focused again on the man, trying to see through whatever power enveloped him but still coming up empty. It was among the most bizarre things he had ever seen. Such a useful and specific power, hiding his soul from a Knight's sight. Quite something and yet the man himself did not give off the impression of a scribe, a master of Inscription. The mages of the Hall may be capable of such a feat given enough time, but this man was the furthest thing from those old men and women huddled over their precious tomes.

“How are you doing that?” Samuel asked politely.

“I'm sorry?”

“How are you hiding yourself from me? I understand that this is some kind of distraction orchestrated by the King and Queen, but I must know the trick to it. You are not a Knight, I would be able to sense it if you were. Though why they would send a mortal is quite beyond me.”

“True, I am not a Knight,” Yale said as he stretched, “And yes, this is a distraction. Well, more of a trap really, but I'm sure you already came to that conclusion.”

“I did,” Samuel nodded sagely, “But you are aware it is futile, yes? I will find the Heir. It is inevitable.”

“Maybe it is,” Yale's eyes furrowed and his jaw clenched, “But I'll be damned if I don't at least try to stop you. You seem a smart man, Samuel, so let me ask you a question.”

“Please.”

“I am told your ability to sense souls is quite prodigious. Even from this distance, I'm sure you are able to sense Gida and Julian. Please, tell me where they are.”

Samuel decided to play along with the man's request, for the sake of amusement if nothing else. It was becoming abundantly clear that Orin and Elora were no longer in the city. He had never sensed their souls before but he was positive they wouldn't sit still and wait for him since they clearly had prior knowledge of his arrival. No matter, though. Patience was a virtue he had in spades. He would find them. Not a force on Ouros could stop him. Well, that wasn't quite true. One could. Possibly two, but he would have to wait for the conclusion of his investigation into the young Heir to know definitively.

He frowned as he searched for Gida and Julian. He had briefly glanced at them when he caught sight of the Spires on his approach of the city. They had been in the palace then and he doubted very much that Julian had suddenly gained the incredible power needed to feel Samuel looking. Yet they weren't in the palace. In fact, they were no longer in the city.

“Ah,” Samuel said, shaking his head at the simplicity of it, “They are currently making their way west. That is clever. Make me curious enough about your strange ability to keep me talking while they leave the city. Simple enough, but the best plans usually are. Well played, Spymaster.”

“Thank you,” Yale said with a sigh of content, “The idea was mine.”

“Though I do not think they are naive enough to believe that it will do more than delay me,” Samuel smiled knowingly as he glanced at Yale, “Gida plans to release Sgread. Is that right?”

“She does. The Queen just didn't want any of her own people to suffer her Weapon's awakening,” Yale smirked, “You on the other hand, she is more than happy to harm. You seek to hurt her daughter and my Queen is quite protective of the little sprout.”

“I do not seek to harm your Princess, Yale,” Samuel replied as he turned on the man and began to make his way towards the entrance, “As long as the Heir cooperates, there will be no need.”

“As long as he rolls over and dies, you mean?”

“If that is what the Hall demands, then yes,” Samuel spoke absolutely, his conviction undeniable, “He is marked and will die, as is decreed by the Hall. To believe you know better than them is folly, but there are those that still try. Better men than you have stood in defiance of me, Yale. All have fallen. I suggest you make no move to stop me. You are a curiosity, true, but one that I will-”

“Did you know we had a wedding here only two weeks ago?” Yale interrupted Samuel impetuously, his eyes dancing with amusement as he stared at the impassive face of the Knight, “Orin and Elora were married here before they left, fleeing you. I have known that girl since she was knee high and I can honestly say that watching her grow up from afar has been one of the great joys of my position.”

Samuel said nothing. He only stared.

“She will make a great Queen one day and, Spirit willing, Orin will be her match as King,” Yale got to his feet then. He rotated his neck as though stretching, his eyes closed as he moved with an easy grace born of years dancing with the shadow of death. He stretched his hands, his fingers spreading wide before he drew them into fists, the bones cracking as he did so. “I am devoted to this Kingdom, Samuel of the Hall. Like you, I believe in something larger than myself. Also like you, I believe that the ends justify the means. We are not too dissimilar, you and I. But I am more. I am committed to Elora, to Gida, to Julian and to Orin. He will be my King. You, Samuel, just threatened my King!”

Something was happening and Samuel was unsure what. He frowned as the world seemed to darken. It was noon, the sun reaching its highest point, and yet cold emerged from his lungs in a fog of breath. The shadows seemed to reach outwards, fingers of encroaching doom that sought him with a desperate need.

Fascinating.

“You asked why Gida and Julian would send a mortal to entrap you, Samuel.”

Yale began to change. His tan skin lost its lustre, the blood seemingly seeping from the Spymaster's body. Cracks, like the imperfections of porcelain, appeared on his flesh and spread as he smiled. His pupils seemed to explode, spreading outwards over his irises in a chaotic pattern as he stared at Samuel with unrestrained hunger. The need for the runes suddenly became very clear to the Knight of the Hall.

“They didn't!”

* * *

“How long do you think Yale will keep him occupied?”

The Queen did not sound panicked, but she was hardly calm either. Julian could feel the heavy beat of her heart as it rung through her body like a cathedral bell, matching the steady rhythm of her wings as they struck the air.

They had left Myrin when they confirmed that both Yale and Samuel were within the orphanage. The Spymaster was free to act as he wished. With the orphanage having been carefully Inscribed over the past week, Yale could show the fullness of his self without worry.

Julian had lied to Orin. He had known that the orphanage would be Samuel's first stop. At least, he had strongly suspected that would be the case. As soon as he and Elora left, Julian had the Sister and children moved to a secluded location outside the city where they would remain until Samuel departed. He had spared no expense in keeping them hidden. It would do little to deter Samuel in his search, but it would make him focus on them for the time being. That was the hope, anyway. He would always take the easiest path. With Orin's family removed he would be forced to deal with the King and Queen of Venos.

In the end, it made little difference to him.

“Ten minutes, as he promised,” Julian replied doubtfully, though he tried to hide his fears from his wife. He couldn't help but feel the Spymaster was being overly confident in his abilities, but then even they didn't know quite what Yale was capable of. They had an idea, of course, but one could never be too sure when it came to the man they counted among their oldest friends. “I am not worried about Yale. He has never let us down before.”

“He has never faced an opponent like this,” Gida replied, worry clear in her voice.

“True,” Julian replied grimly, “But Yale always returns, even when we think him dead.”

“We should have just left days ago and waited for him in a secluded location.”

Julian grimaced but said nothing in response. His wife had made the same point over the past few days, since the three of them had come up with this plan, but she knew why they needed to leave when he was in the city. Their hope was that Samuel wouldn't be able to resist following them should he catch them fleeing. The fear that he may miss them entirely and tear Myrin apart in his search for Orin was another reason for this gambit. They had discussed the idea of simply fleeing with those who knew of Orin's destination but that presented the same problem. Samuel's mind was known only to himself, his strange code allowing for any manner of horrors to be inflicted on innocents in their absence. It was better to be safe than sorry. If all went as planned, the only thing damaged would be the orphanage. Julian just hoped that Yale wouldn't be a casualty when the dust settled.

They continued onwards at a blistering pace, with Julian feeding Gida's wings through the Forge even as his mind touched upon Sgread, preparing himself to let her loose when the moment came. She slept still, wrapped in chains of Inscription that had taken the King months to create. They were the latest in a long line of efforts to keep the Cursed Weapon from accidentally destroying everything around them with her aura. They worked for the most part but she had still managed to let some semblance of herself through to look upon Orin. It seemed she approved of him, though Julian knew that feeling her attentions had scared the young warrior half to death. The King couldn't blame him for that. He still felt the same way at times and he had Forged the blasted thing.

Help support creative writers by finding and reading their stories on the original site.

He thought back to that moment now. The terror, the pain, the flash of silver and the rush of rage. He pushed the memory away before it could consume him. Thinking of her Forging may cause Sgread to stir. Something which needed to be avoided until the opportune moment.

They soared over the trees of Estalin and Julian felt hope burgeon within his heart. They were well out of range now which made him sigh in relief. The empty plains beyond the forest were already in sight. The first part of their plan had gone off without a hitch, but they were burning through far too much Aurum. Going long distances like this was possible because of their huge well of power, but the significant drain it was causing would soon leave them unable to put up any kind of resistance when Samuel caught up.

“Land, Gida,” Julian whispered into his wife's mind, “We're far enough away now. We need to conserve our strength to handle Sgread.”

Julian could feel his Queen's hesitance, but she did as he recommended, pulling her wings in tight and plummeting towards the earth below. The moment before they landed, she snapped them open, landing as lightly as a feather and her gauntleted hands clenched into tight fists as she continued walking out into the plains. She turned then and stared at the treeline as Julian reached out with their Spiritual Senses, keeping a weather eye as they prepared for the coming of their opponent.

Gida paced, the energy running through her body making her unable to remain still, “What if he doesn't settle for the orphanage? What if he and Yale take their battle to the streets?”

“He won't,” Julian replied idly, “The orphanage is warded well, it can put up with a significant amount of damage before it crumbles. I don't think things will go that far. Yale isn't strong enough to make Samuel fight with everything he has.”

“Nor are we.” Gida grumbled uneasily.

“Yes, I know,” Julian replied, his tone matching his wife's, “But with Sgread we can at least last a little longer.”

It was a strange thing to go into a battle you knew you would lose. Julian had felt it before, long ago, but it was a hard feeling to forget. He and Gida would employ every ability they had at their disposal. Knowing it wasn't enough was a bitter medicine to swallow, but it was made sweeter by knowing that it served a greater purpose. It had all become a game of delay. That was why Yale was the first to fight, to hold Samuel's attention. It didn't matter if it was by hours, minutes or seconds, any time they gave to Elora was worth the sacrifice. Thankfully, that was something that Yale believed as well. He had been the one who had concocted this plan and it was him that was at the most amount of risk. After all, for all of Samuel's authority and power, he couldn't just kill the leaders of a nation without consequence.

Unfortunately, he didn't need to kill them to get the answers he sought. All he had to do was ask.

“Greetings, King and Queen of Venos, from the Hall of Tyra!”

Gida swung to her left and jumped to the side, her wings snapping out to accelerate her brief flight as she slid across the earth. Julian immediately threw everything they had into Strength and Speed, his hold on the chains of Sgread loosening as he looked through his wife's eyes and spied the figure walking from the treeline. Despite his senses, he hadn't felt the man's approach at all.

Samuel hadn't changed much. In fact, Julian believed he hadn't changed at all.

His hair was the only outward sign of his advanced years, while his body and face remained younger than even Julian himself. He was dressed in clothes that were threadbare and falling apart at the seams, yet there still remained a nobility to the man despite his dress. His hands were clasped easily behind his back and he seemed completely at ease, almost as though he was going on a quiet stroll. His smile was kind and yet Julian could not help but think of it as patronizing, the shake of his head and chuckle of laughter at his approach doing little to dispel that notion.

“I have to say that was interesting. Fascinating, really. What a creature you have under your control!”

Gida said nothing in response, the tension in her body so great that Julian was half afraid her bones would snap if she moved suddenly. He continued to put his Gifts into her body and send his support over the Bond. His time speaking was done now, they had to be prepared for anything.

“Oh, have no fear,” Samuel said with a dismissive wave of his hand, “The beast yet lives. Its ability to regenerate is quite something. I'm afraid that was what took me so long to catch up, the thing just didn't know when to stay down.”

Julian felt relief flood his system. Samuel never lied. It did trouble Julian that the man thought he'd taken a long time to catch up considering he had arrived only seconds after they themselves did.

“He is in several pieces, however. I'm afraid he may require some help in pulling himself back together,” Samuel chortled at his own joke as he examined his surroundings, breathing in the fresh air deeply and without a care in the world. “I will of course have to inform the Hall of this. This Yale is a curious specimen to be sure, and one which seems quite committed to you. I would love to know how you earned the loyalty of such a monster. He also resisted my attempts at prying the truth of the Heir's location from him. Perhaps it has something to do with his soul? Quite something, indeed. I would take him with me, but we both know my purpose for being here takes precedence. The mission always comes first.”

“The crown of Venos welcomes the Hall's emissary,” Gida said shortly, “I would say it's a pleasure, Samuel, but that would be a lie.”

“Ah, Gida, just as fiery as I remember,” Samuel said fondly, “This needn't be difficult and you have no way of lying to me unless I allow it, but I would rather not force you. You know that I have a dislike of extracting the truth from the unwilling.”

“I do, but you also never shy away from it. Excuse me for being prepared for the worst,” Gida replied sarcastically, as ready as ever to accept Samuel's assault.

“Where is Orin of Myrin, Gida?” Samuel said with a sigh, “These games you play; the orphanage, the beast, hiding the Sister and the children. It does nothing but prolong the inevitable. I will find him and your daughter. It is simply a matter of time and patience.”

“Time you don't have, considering I'm going to cut your head off and put it on a spike!” Gida snapped at the man, her rage at Samuel mentioning Elora matching the King's own.

“Bluster and empty threats. We both know this fight is already over, Gida. Just tell me where he is and I will be on my way. If all goes well, I will have Elora returned to you unharmed. You have my word.”

“We both know that is a very conditional promise, Samuel,” Gida replied with a shake of her head, “My Elora loves Orin and she will die in his defence. If you think I'll just give you what you ask, you're more insane than I thought, 'Saint of the Hall'.”

Samuel became quiet then, his smile dropping away along with his casual demeanour. A flash of anger crossed his face at the mention of his given name. It sounded nice enough, but not to those who knew its true meaning, the heavy history of how he had earned such a vaunted title.

“You are getting dangerously close to being impertinent, Gida of Myrin,” Samuel said quietly, “I would choose your next words wisely.”

“Even you don't have the balls to kill a sitting monarch, Samuel,” Gida grinned, though it was hidden behind her helm and a good thing it was too. It also hid the fear that Julian felt flowing through his wife. “Does your name trouble you so? Perhaps the Harlot in your soul likes hers better?”

Samuel stared, tension rising as the air between he and Gida became suddenly charged. Julian felt a tremble run through his spiritual body, but he suppressed it with a thought and concentrated on Samuel to the exclusion of all else. This sudden increase of pressure wasn't coming from the man himself, but from she who dwelt within him. Sif had stirred at her name, at the insult behind it.

Julian had only heard rumours of Samuel's Smith, but the tales were enough to cause his stomach to turn. She rarely left her Knight's inner soul, only doing so when the chance of their personalities melding became too great a risk to bear. It was said that she had a hatred of reality, of the physical realm, and that the inner soul gave her solace. She spent much of her time sleeping, a monster lulled into a difficult slumber by the calm of her partner's soul. Her emergence into the real world was usually followed by destruction and death, her temper only quelled by her Knight.

Their relationship was unlike any other Bonded pair that Julian had ever heard of. If he and Gida had a Cursed Weapon, then Samuel and Sif had a Cursed Bond. One which was as unstable and corrupt as Sgread herself.

That was Julian's opponent in the fight to come. A half mad Smith who was beyond prodigious. She was not Samuel's first Smith, nor was he her first Knight, but the two were perfectly suited to each other. The King didn't know quite how much Aurum they had at their disposal, but it was far beyond the comprehension of either him or Gida.

“Now that was impertinent,” Samuel said with a sigh as the threat faded with Sif's return to sleep, “Aggravating Sif and I will bring you nothing but pain, Gida. Surely you know this? I cannot kill you, this is true. The Hall has enough problems in Venos without adding to it by killing off the ruling family, but I can still hurt you.”

“And that is how I know you have no children, Samuel,” Gida smiled sadly as her wings extended to their full span, black and glittering in the light of day, “For I would suffer a thousand lifetimes of agony before I allowed you anywhere near my daughter!”

“So be it.” Samuel said resolutely.

Reality seemed to fold in on itself. The physical realm came undone as Sif opened her eyes and stared upon the world of mere mortals once more. Samuel's own gaze glimmered with a hint of his terrifying strength, two shining orbs of dark intent. He cleared his throat with a subtle swallow before opening his mouth to speak.

“Tell me-”

“Julian!” Gida roared.

“Sgread!” The King hissed at his Weapon, calling to her even as he tore through the Inscribed chains, his hands ripping apart months and years of work with the pure power of his will. He felt her tremble beneath his touch. The fingers of her creator causing the blade to stir in her deep artificial sleep.

“Wake up!”

* * *

Sgread screamed. Everything died.

The sky turned red, the air shook and the earth cracked. A cacophony of sound roared across the plains as the horrible power of Gida's Weapon tore apart all in sight; Grass, trees, animals, all fell at the sound of Sgread's awakening. Death tore into the land and shaped it anew, turning once fertile fields teeming with the promise of life into a barren waste devoid of anything that even resembled what once was.

Gida trembled as Sgread formed, her muscles screaming as Julian threw as much Aurum as he could into her body to stop the sheer force of her Weapon's formation from tearing her apart. She felt the fingers of Sgread in her mind, the corrupted influence moving with a vengeance through her psyche and causing visions of a fractured past to rise to the fore, threatening to destroy her completely.

'She lay on the ground, unmoving and wings broken. Zelato was near, standing over the body of her father. The old man had fought valiantly, but he had fallen like the rest had. She had hated him. All her life she hated him but he had stepped into the way of a blow meant for her. He watched her father bleed out. A smile on his twisted lips and madness in his golden eyes.'

“Gida!”

'She clutched the bundle to her chest. She was screaming, unable to see through the veil of tears pouring down her cheeks. Blood seeped from between her legs as Julian tried to hold her. She couldn't look at him, couldn't see the despair she knew was the mirror of her own. She had lost another, it had been her fault. He was a boy. His name was to be Rico, after her husband's brother who had passed years before. She had failed again. Why couldn't she give the man she loved children? They buried him in the Gardens next to Tomas and Alexander. The others she had failed to protect.'

“Gida!”

'Another had passed, gone before he had even drawn breath. She and Julian barely spoke any more. Talking had become difficult. Each saw those they lost in each other. Her heart was nothing but a shadow, empty and devoid of all emotion. Julian tried to speak with her, tried to rekindle their love, but it was failing like her useless body.'

“Gida! Look to Elora!”

The Queen of Venos heard her husband's words and felt Sgread retreat as that memory rose up in her mind. The greatest day of her life, when all things were right in the world and she had felt like a person again.

'Elora. That's what they would call her. Gida held her gently, her hands trembling, almost unable to breathe. So scared was she of hurting the innocent in her arms. The girl looked back her calmly, open mouth smiling without teeth, giggling and babbling into the air. A single tuft of blonde hair on her small head, her eyes glimmering with a golden light that matched Gida's own. She was the most beautiful thing in the world. Elora was her name. She had saved them and she didn't even realise it.'

“You won't touch my daughter!” Gida screamed and Sgread matched her as they became as one, the sword finally appearing as the darkness surrounding it dissipated.

A cracked thing, a broken thing, a hateful thing. The blade of Sgread was chipped along its length, weeping abyssal ichor into the air that became smoke before fading away. The dull steel of the blade looked to be as common as muck but shook with the overwhelming power of perdition, the promise of a life lived in unrelenting agony. The crossguard had been whole once, but the battle with Zelato years ago had severed one side clean off. The drip of black blood still poured from the wounded soul steel, never to heal. The hilt was jagged, the metal wires sharp and cutting into the Queen's hand through her gauntlet, punishing her for the act of holding such a disgusting blade.

Gida's eyes found Samuel, the only one untouched by the destruction that heralded Sgread's coming. His eyes were narrowed, but he was without Weapon or Armour. He didn't believe he needed it and he was right.

Gida would prove him wrong regardless.

Her feet sunk into the cracked, dry earth beneath her, the dead grass snapping as she exploded forward in an eruption of fury, her wings speeding her along in her flight. She led with her Cursed Weapon, thrusting forward with everything in her as she attacked.

“Third Circle Release.” Julian intoned and everything became sharper.

Gida took a breath as restraints on her soul were lifted. Yet more power poured into her limbs, the kind of strength that would have made even Vera tremble in unrestrained fear. She and Julian moved closer to the One, their minds intertwining as their thoughts operated with a single purpose.

The destruction of Samuel.

The blade smashed against the torso of the man known as the Saint and carried on through to the other side without resistance. Blood exploded from the wound on Samuel's chest. It was almost like he had been struck by a cannon. A hole nearly three times as large as Sgread herself had appeared, the sheer destructive aura of the blade eviscerating his flesh, his heart disappearing in a burst of vile viscera.

He had managed to shrug off Sgread's emergence, but the closer one was to the Weapon the stronger her aura became. She was the personification of annihilation.

But it wasn't enough and Gida knew it. If it was that easy to kill this man he would have died years ago, after the massacre in Wellind or after he had slaughtered those children in the Duchies simply for getting in his way. He had more than his share of enemies, many of whom hated him for reasons that went beyond justified.

Gida roared again and moved as a blur beyond the perception of mere Knights and into the realm of Masters. Her wings cut into the man's stationary body even as Sgread did, each wrapped in a blanket of Darkness that added yet more slicing power to her blows. They sheared into his flesh with abandon, each strike accompanied by a shock wave that made the dead land around them tremble and shake, made the hollowed out trees explode into showers of splinters and even caused the bones of small animals to break apart from the sheer undeniable force of it.

Then, as Gida prepared herself to renew her assault, Samuel moved.

He punched her. It was a simplistic attack and done in the same way she had seen a million times before. It was just too fast for her to see.

Samuel's gentle fist collided with her Armoured chest and the plate was destroyed. There was nothing more to be said. In that one attack, Gida felt all of his strength, all of the power she had so feared ever since she had heard of his coming. But there was one thought that caused terror to settle in her soul and make her husband shake. One thought above all others that shouted its way to the front of her mind.

He was holding back.

She soared backwards, skittering off the ground like a stone. Her bones broke, legs snapping first before being swiftly followed by her arms. Her ribs pierced her lungs and blood spewed out into her helmet as she desperately tried to clear her throat. Sgread was ripped from her grasp and went tumbling off into her blurring surroundings. The broken shells of tree trunks caused her spine to shatter, but they at least managed to slow her down some.

She came to a stop in a battered heap of twisted flesh, broken Armour and crushed bone. She immediately felt the soothing coolness of their Healing Gift as Julian worked to repair the damage. Gida's anger was not quelled in the slightest. If anything it was only invigorated. She clawed herself to her feet as soon as she was able and snapped her fingers. Sgread reformed in her hand and she wrapped the blade in an iron fist, the razor sharp wires reminding her she was alive as they cut through her gauntlet with ease and into the soft skin beneath. The Queen of Venos turned to look at the path of destruction that had followed her tumbling through the earth.

Samuel, with his simple blow, had sent her a mile away from their initial battle, through the partly destroyed area of Estalin. She was so far away from where she had summoned Sgread that she could see green again, though distantly. Monstrous power beyond the pale. Too much for any one person to hold.

“Why do you do this, Gida?” Samuel was standing beside her and she swiped at him with Sgread. He was suddenly standing ten feet away, his hands still clasped behind his back and expression troubled. His wounds had healed and his clothes were untouched by any blood. “Do you think this brings me pleasure? Do you think your defiance proves anything beyond the fact that you are stubborn and can't see beyond yourself?”

Gida didn't answer, she attacked. She reached for everything she had, the dregs of will that still remained after that single, earth-shattering strike and pushed forward. Sgread screamed, begging for the blood of their opponent. The Queen was of a mind to give it to her.

“Pointless,” Samuel sighed as he avoided each of the blows with ease, moving slightly out of their way instead of taking them like he had before, “You are no better than a novice to me, Gida. Everyone is.”

He punched her again, though lighter this time. The crippling strike caused several of her organs to burst but only sent her around a hundred feet back. Julian healed her again and she charged once more into the fray. This was for Elora, she told herself, If it was for her then Gida was capable of anything.

Even killing a God!

Gida reached for the Dark and it came at her call. She smashed her gauntleted fist into the dead earth beneath her and send the Darkness deep into the barren soil left by Sgread's emergence. Tendrils scattered as she exerted her will. They moved through the ground and exploded out next to Samuel, their journey causing them to grow in size until they were as thick as tree trunks.

They smashed against the undefended body of the Saint who barely reacted as he knocked them away with ease. One managed to wrap itself around his torso, the tendril making a sound similar to that of some hideous beast which had finally managed to corner its unsuspecting prey. It was the opportunity the others were waiting for as they each constricted around one of Samuel's limbs. Gida threw more Aurum into the Technique, making the tendrils as strong as possible, commanding them to crush the man to pulp.

Samuel simply walked forward, his ever present smile not changing and the the tendrils just... disappeared. They were destroyed so completely that not a single trace of the Dark remained. The backlash caused the Queen's head to spin, almost making her stumble. Gida's Technique had barely slowed him down at all. If anything, the man looked disappointed. She had once used the very same Technique to completely incapacitate Vera and yet Samuel treated it as nothing better than the attack of a child.

Gida reached for the Dark again and this time pulled it into her own body, flooding herself with the undeniable power of shadow. Her Armour rippled as her Strength grew. Her wings extended further than ever as she whipped them towards the Saint. A dozen feathers leapt from her constructed appendages, increasing in number as they went. A dozen became a hundred, became a thousand and soon the sky was cluttered with daggers of such sharpness they would cut through steel.

Gida felt her nose begin to bleed as her vision swam. The combination of her healing, using her wings, Techniques and summoning Sgread had already drained her significantly. She had never used this particular Technique in battle before. It was still experimental, her and Julian's attempt to gain further use from their wings. She just hoped it managed to put a dent in the man's defences so she could strike with Sgread and end this.

With a roar of defiance, Gida sent the storm of feathers at the man, watching as he was turned into a human pincushion. The blades hammered into his face, torso, arms and legs with such force that he shook with every impact.

“This is becoming tiresome.” Samuel sounded bored.

The feathers turned to dust and fell away, revealing the Saint just as he was, unmarked and without a single flaw on his young looking face. What was new was the tinge of annoyance Gida now saw there, something that wasn't present before.

The small victories had to be celebrated.

Gida drew in her Element once more, ignoring the pain it was causing her. She knew few Techniques that could be used at a distance. Her tendrils being one of only three. The others would do nothing against him if the feather storm she summoned had no effect. No, she had to fall back on what she was best at, fighting in close and ready to trade blow for blow. Against Samuel it was near suicide, but she had little choice. She was running dangerously low on Aurum and only had enough for maybe a handful of Techniques before she was dry and Julian was cast out of her inner soul.

She looked to him now, feeling the resolve of her husband bolster her own. He was ready for this fight and would help her in any way he could. The Third Circle had brought them yet closer and his love for her, his love for Elora, steadied Gida and calmed her aching body.

“This is it, my love,” Gida whispered into her mind as she settled into a stance, her grip on her Weapon tightening, “Let's show him why we named her Sgread.”

“Yes!” Julian's answering shout was like a Ferosian battle-horn, the sound resonating throughout her body as they leapt forward, two becoming one as Gida used her Element to increase her already incredible dexterity. She whipped through the air on wings that had suddenly grown lighter, her Armour feeling like a second skin as she pushed herself to move faster and faster. She flew with tight control, each of her passes coming close enough to dig Sgread into Samuel without him being able to catch her.

”Faster!” She roared and her husband answered, throwing everything they had left into Speed, their Aurum dipping to near empty as they soared like the birds Gida had watched out of the window as a little girl, back when she had been alone and afraid. Without hope.

“Faster!” Julian pulled whatever he could from Thought, Strength and any other active Gifts, throwing it all into Speed. Soon, it felt like Gida could see nothing but Samuel. The world around her began to lose colour, light beginning to retreat as she passed her limits for the sake of the one person on this world she loved more than any other.

“Scream for me!” The voice was an amalgamation of Gida, Julian and Sgread. The sword spoke with a hiss, like poison dipping from hungry fangs.

Gida appeared in front of Samuel, wings spread like an angel of death ready to reap her prey. Sgread's vile influence once more affected her mind as she let the blade take a hold, let its bloodlust and hunger seep into her very being. It made her stronger. Strong enough to weather any pain, any foe. This was what made her Queen, what had sent Zelato fleeing like the coward he was.

She brought Sgread down. She was moving so fast, the descending blade of her Weapon almost appeared slow. But like the terrible vengeance of an Old God, it could not be ignored. Samuel looked at her, unaffected by the display. He still looked bored, still looked frustrated.

Then his eyes widened. He felt it.

Sgread collided.

Great swathes of rock flew into the sky as what was left of their surroundings was obliterated. The earth beneath the two combatants caved in as a colossal crater formed, Sgread's merciless aura forcing everything to bend beneath her.

For a moment, silence reigned over the broken and bloodied battleground of the Queen and the Saint. Then the dust settled, the smoke cleared and revealed a sight that would have been thought a daydream to Gida had she not been the one who'd done it.

Samuel had summoned his Armour.

His arm was covered in a crystalline substance up to the shoulder. A shining material that caught the light and set it dancing about the hole they both rested within. His gauntlet was firmly wrapped around Sgread's blade, the surprise easy to see in the Saint's eyes as he examined the Cursed Weapon with raised brows.

Gida herself was dumbstruck. Her body ached, her Armour was shattered and her attack had failed spectacularly. But she had made him summon his Armour. She had, just for a moment, made him take her seriously. She couldn't help herself. She laughed.

Samuel frowned at her as she did, his face slowly darkening. Turning from irritated annoyance to unbridled fury.

She still had Aurum left. She and Julian could still-

Gida didn't know what happened next. She blinked and she was on her back, a horrible pain running through her entire body. She couldn't feel Sgread anymore. In fact, she could barely feel anything at all.

“-da! Gida!” Julian's voice was like the first coming of spring after a long winter. She winced, realising that she could feel the wind on her face. Her Armour was gone and given the fact that she could feel familiar hands on her skin, she knew Julian had left her inner soul. Panic suddenly took her as she desperately tried to focus her eyes, tried to find Samuel and push Julian behind her as she did so.

She caught sight of the Saint standing nearby. His smile had returned, the kind one he had worn at the beginning of their battle. He didn't have a scratch on him. Gida had tried everything, thrown her entire being into that fight and she hadn't hurt him even once. Worse still, when he had finally begun to take her seriously, she had been completely unable to stop him

“Gida, my love!” Julian's dirt streaked face appeared above her, tears leaving track marks through the filth. Gida thought him the most handsome man in the world, “Oh, thank the Spirit. Thank you, thank you.”

Julian clutched his Queen to him with shaking hands, his prayers continuing as he buried his head in her hair, crying as he stroked her cheek. Gida could barely hold back her own emotions but she did so anyway. Relief at seeing her husband alive was tempered by the thought of the nearby Samuel. She would be damned if she let that bastard see her spill tears.

“I did tell you that it was pointless,” Samuel sighed as he walked forward, “But you surprise me, Gida and Julian of Myrin. I did not expect such a ferocious assault. It appears the stories about your mythical Weapon were true after all. I am glad I allowed the fight to go on for as long as it did. Alas, it was not enough.”

“G-go fuck yourself!” Gida spat and pushed herself up until she was sitting, Julian's hands on her as he supported her rise. “I can still fight!”

“While it would be rather amusing to see that, I must be leaving. You have wasted quite enough of my time.”

Julian glared at the Saint, arms protectively wrapped around his wife, “We won't tell you anything, Samuel.”

“Oh, but you will, my friend. They always do.”

Samuel stared at them and Gida felt her soul succumb to the intensity of his stare. She could almost feel the eyes of Sif upon her, the coward hiding within her Knight and so afraid of the world that she would prefer to exist in a state of semi-existence. A half-life.

“Where did your daughter and Orin go?” The question was asked and it could not go unanswered. Gida felt her soul twist in on itself as she brought of all of her being to bear. She saw Julian stiffen next to her. He tried to resist as hard as she did but it was almost like the compulsion became stronger the more you pushed against it. She grabbed Julian's hand and held it tight, taking comfort from the contact, but it was not enough. She broke before long.

“Ragora!” Gida spat viciously, trying to stand, trying to go on the offensive only for Julian to hold her back with a shake of his head. His jaw was clenched and his eyes filled with tears. He looked about ready to tear Samuel apart with his bare hands, but he knew the end result as well as Gida herself did.

“Ragora... Mastan, then,” Samuel said, looking strangely dissatisfied, “I suppose I will have to move quickly before they reach him.”

“At least tell us why, Samuel!” Julian shouted at the man as he turned to leave, “All this for a young man who didn't even know he was an Heir until a few weeks ago? Orin is a good person, one our daughter loves. What has he done to deserve such a fate? What has he done to deserve you?”

“He is a threat.”

“That's bullshit and you know it!” Gida laughed bitterly, “I would be the first to say I don't like the boy, but a threat to the Hall? Not a chance.”

“Maybe, maybe not. It is not my place to judge the will of the Hall.” Samuel intoned with a hand

clasped to his chest.

“Of course it isn't,” Gida snarled at the man, “You're just a dog for them to give instructions to. You and Sif both.”

“That might be true as well,” Samuel said with a sad smile, not taking offence at Gida's insult, “I am not perfect, Gida, but I have purpose. That is more than most men can claim.”

“But why you?” Julian pushed, getting to his feet with difficulty. It was only then that Gida noticed that her husband looked beyond exhausted. It was almost as if he could barely stand. She realised that the last does of Healing he had performed must have forcibly ejected him from her soul, “Orin is yet to come into his true powers. He is no threat to even the most newly initiated of Masters. The Hall has many they could have sent. Why you?”

Samuel hesitated, turning to look at the paired King and Queen with an expression of thought on his face. Gida knew he wasn't talking to Sif, the woman had probably already returned to her turbulent rest. No, for a second Samuel looked...conflicted.

“I tell you this now because of the respect I have for you as Knight and Smith,” The Saint bowed to them both, “I have been surprised twice in one day and that does not happen often. In exchange, I will tell you a truth: Orin of Myrin has a protector.”

“We know,” Julian replied immediately, “Tessaraina D'viritazi, Mastan's daughter.”

Samuel was already shaking his head before the King had finished speaking, “No. I am aware of Mastan's involvement with the Heir. It was the reason he was not asked to attend the meeting that sent me here. There is someone else. Someone far more powerful. A true threat.”

Gida watched the man with narrowed eyes. She believed him because she knew he didn't lie, but nor did he always tell the whole truth. Samuel's hatred of deception was legendary, but he was not afraid to omit details if it was convenient for him.

“A true threat?” Julian asked.

“Yes, one which I have been told to eliminate with extreme prejudice. The Heir will die and his protector along with him. Whoever it is has been deemed an opponent too great for any Master of the Hall besides myself.”

“How do you know of this?”

“One truth, Julian. I will say no more.

“Yet you look unsure,” Gida said, blood dribbling down her chin as she pondered Samuel's expression before it hit her like a bolt of lightning. She didn't understand the look on his face because she had never once seen such an emotion grace it, despite knowing the man in passing for many years. Gida laughed, suspecting what she'd gleaned was true, “You don't know if you can beat this 'protector'. You're afraid!”

Samuel grimaced and Gida knew she had reached the heart of the issue, “There you have it. A truth for your impressive display. I must be on my way.”

“I hope whatever it is kills you, Samuel!” Gida shouted at the man's back as she clawed herself to her feet, Julian coming back to help her. “And even if it doesn't, know this: If you harm my daughter in any way, I will.”

“Strange,” Samuel replied wistfully, “At the beginning of our fight I would have believed such a thing impossible. Yet now I almost believe you, Gida of Myrin. That makes three. Farewell.”

Gida blinked. He was gone.

The Queen of Myrin fell to her knees as soon as Samuel disappeared, her hands coming up to her face as she clutched at her hair. She let herself feel it then. The pain of the battle, the shocking nature of Samuel's power, all of it. The tears came swiftly and Gida cried. She cried because she had failed.

“Have we... Have I lost her, Julian?” Gida sobbed, her thoughts travelling to places best left untouched, “Have I lost my baby girl?”

Julian swept the Queen into his arms, holding her tightly and with all the strength he had left. He trembled and wept with her even as he spoke, “Not at all, my love. You were spectacular, Gida. Truly spectacular.”

“But it wasn't enough,” Gida stared into space in horror, “Oh, Spirit, Julian. Have I killed her!?”

“No!” Julian pulled her closer still, “We did all we could. It's up to them now. Vera and Annabelle will protect her. Orin would never let any harm befall Elora.

Gida didn't like the boy. She had always believed something like this would happen and it had come to pass just as she had foreseen. But she knew that Elora would never leave him, would never abandon him. She had also seen the look in Orin's eye when he gazed at Elora. The care she saw there, the love in his heart for her daughter. Gida knew that Vera and Annabelle wouldn't be enough to stop such a being as Samuel, but Orin had proven once before that he would not be contained by the rules that Gida had so long believed infallible. Maybe he could do what no other before him had ever dreamed possible.

“Rage, Orin,” Gida whispered, “He will come for you now and you must rage. Fight with everything you have and more. Do not let him harm her. You have done the impossible before. I fear you must do so again.”

Gida's words were a prayer and one she sent with the Spirit on the wings of fate. The thought was insane, the idea of the young man actually standing a chance against the monster that was Samuel was laughable. Yet Gida dared to hope regardless.

She closed her eyes, swaying in the arms of her husband and trying to keep her guilt contained as they sat in the wasteland created by her Cursed Weapon.

Hope was a powerful thing. Gida relied on it more than she was likely to admit.

“Rage!”