“Don’t just stand there, kill her!”

Cali had to stop herself from rolling her eyes. Adam was a collection of ideas and stereotypes compiled into a slimy pile, that could be mistaken as a real person. She had already killed three of them in brutal, efficient fashion – spreading a plague of hesitation through the remaining number. She stepped over one of the bodies and tried to avoid splashing the bloody water onto her boots. Cali was silently judging the excitement level that her foes provided. So far, she was unimpressed.

There was a common adage that quantity had a quality all its own, but that wasn’t the case. In every example Cali could think of, the more experienced force in any conflict had a significant advantage. This disbalance only became more pronounced the fewer outside factors were included. In a battle of weapons and skill between individuals, with no logistics, tactics or environmental issues to consider – the more experienced person would almost always win.

Ren had set her standards too high by trying to kill the burrowing monster in Versia. That was a foe that put the fear of god into her bones. A horrifying, slobbering beast that could regenerate from almost any injury. As another thin gang member tried to stab her, she batted him away with the blunt edge of the halberd and knocked him to the ground. He tried to scramble away, but his cries of terror were silenced as she thrust the blade through his neck. Seeing him clutch the bleeding wound and roll around in the mud was an utterly pathetic sight – did they not have the dignity to die quickly and silently?

“This can end now, if you merely surrender yourself to my custody,” she repeated.

“You think I’m letting you get away with doing this?”

“You? You do not appear to be doing anything. It is easy to assign blame when you stand behind the protection of others.” Cali swung the halberd’s wooden shaft around and clattered one of the gang members who tried to sneak up on her. Suddenly a flurry of action. Three more charged with weapons bared. She pulled the trigger on the catalyst. “Ignite!”

The men screamed in agony as their bodies were charred by the magical flame. The violence of the battle has shocked and appalled the people watching through closed windows. Some of the men had turned their attention to the tall woman hiding behind her. She had no intention of joining the fight though. Tahar turned tail and ran as fast as her long legs could carry her. She was used to slaying docile animals, not killing other living people. Despite everything, she was unwilling to bloody her hands in such a way.

They jeered and yelled, but Cali was stopping them from chasing after her. “You’re fighting me,” she demanded.

Tahar didn’t know where she was running. At stressful and dangerous times like these, the only place where she truly felt safe was at a high elevation, away from anyone or anything that was trying to hurt her. Her head snapped to the left as she noticed an awning approaching – connected to the front of one of the many buildings that entrapped her. She leapt atop it, using her incredible upper-body strength to heft her bulk up onto the timber frame.

From there she clambered onto the tiled roof. From there everything would make more sense. She could figure out where she was and calm herself after the outburst of violence that had filled her vision before. She’d never seen anything like it, not even when one of her brothers broke his arm and bled everywhere in the village.

Cali’s words reverberated in her ears; this wasn’t her village. She didn’t know anything.

She navigated between the slopes, using chimneys and leaky holes as handholds to steady herself. Her attention was drawn to the nearest open area, one of the exits out of the poorer district. That seemed as good a place as any to go at that moment. She wandered there, peering down into the dark, confining alleyways to see if anybody was still about. There was not a soul in sight. Everyone had gone to ground when Cali had started her rampage.

Tahar could feel herself being swept away by the tides. What was there for her to hold onto now? She realised then that she was alone – away from her people and home. Was this what Ren had meant to say when he asked if she was sure that she wanted to leave? He was being considerate. He knew that this would happen to her.

“Stupid. Stupid. Stupid.”

Tahar berated herself. How naïve was she? Ren had warned her very clearly that Sull was a different continent to her own. She ignored him, refused to take the way out that he offered because she was meant to be his ‘wife.’ But what good was a wife who didn’t listen? She was so full of blood and thunder that she had never once considered her own needs over his.

This was a foreign place, not just in language, but in culture too. There were no common bonds connecting such a huge number of people. They inflicted violence onto each other and competed for the necessities that were required simply to live. A tangled web of allegiances, motivations and norms that Tahar couldn’t possibly unpick on her own.

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Tahar stared down into the square, the edge of the border between the rich and poor.

Ren was there, he was arguing with someone on his hands and knees. One large man loomed behind with a wooden board clutched in his grip. Ren’s hands were moving. He slammed a piece of paper down onto the ground in front of him, kept them talking, and then set it alight using a match. His actions earned more scorn from the people he was fighting. The man in front of him drew a dagger from his pocket and moved to strike him down.

She didn’t have time to think things through – before she knew it the familiar texture of the wooden bow slipped between her fingers. She retrieved an arrow and pulled back, aiming at the feet of the man who was now trying to murder her husband. Her speed and skill meant that this all happened within seconds.

Thwack!

The snap of the string rang out like a gunshot. The arrow flew straight and true, landing just short of the man’s feet. He staggered back in shock, his head swivelling and looking for the assailant responsible. Ren acted. He leapt to his feet and threw a desperate punch into his jaw, sending him flying away in a trail of blood and teeth. He snatched his dagger from mid-air, spun, and threw it at the thug behind.

The distraction had allowed him to dispatch both of them. Tahar had heard how Cali spoke of Ren, about his remorseless and violent nature. Even so, Ren merely walked past his unconscious body without killing him. Was Cali exaggerating? Tahar turned and slid down the opposite side of the roof to catch her breath.

This was life as they knew it.

Adam coughed and hacked, gripping wet dirt between his bleeding fingernails; “You’re a monster!”

Cali was surrounded on all sides by dozens and dozens of corpses. Mutilated, bisected, burned, decapitated and stabbed. Despite the extraordinarily gruesome sight, there wasn’t a drop of blood on her. She had been holding back. She had intentionally fought them at less than full fervour just to preserve the cleanliness of her clothes.

Cali was indifferent to his insults, “None of this would have happened had you simply surrendered yourself. Was avoiding a few years in a cell worth more than the lives of the people you claim to represent?”

He growled, “Shut the fuck up! This is how all of you scum sucking bastards act, not a loyal bone in your damn body!”

Cali was disappointed. Even though she was seriously outnumbered, there was never any prospect of them posing a threat to her. They were untrained and unrefined, and as the violence escalated more and more of them chose to run and preserve their own lives. Loyalty indeed. She whipped a white cloth out from her belt and cleaned away the gore that had accrued on the well-forged blades of her halberd.

Adam knew that he couldn’t run away. If he did, Cali would end him.

How had everything come undone so quickly? Years of work, struggling against rival gangs, dodging the guards, establishing their turf, gathering weapons. And all it took was one Ashmorn to slaughter a lion’s share of them. This was the inequality of life made manifest, one that Adam had always been acutely aware of. This was a world that defied rational explanation, one that crushed bone and spirit down under the cogs and wheels of an infinitely complex system.

The bounty hunter that stood over him – did she even know the first thing about who he was or what he had done? He grunted as he felt the rough bite of a rope knot being tied around his wrists. Even though she had killed so many with a bloodthirsty madness, she decided to bring him in alive. It wouldn’t make a difference. Adam knew that they’d execute him to try and send a message to his underlings.

“Get up.”

Cali pulled him to his feet and started escorting him back down the road. Adam tried not to look at the cold stares of his dead men as he marched to his own fate. He continued to jab at her with sharpened words, “What kind of fucking monster did they make out of you?”

She looked at him with an ice-cold glare, “They didn’t do anything to me. To assign an individual blame for my condition would be foolish and inaccurate.”

He scoffed, “At least you know that much.”

“I am no more a monster than most. The simple fact is that I am honest, whereas they are dishonest.”

“So what, you came down from that ivory tower of yours just to make everybody else suffer?”

“And you do not?” Cali repeated, turning the question on its head. “The law-abiding people you’ve killed and robbed, the terror you instil in so many. You have industrialised that pain and used it to wrap yourself in comforts that others cannot enjoy.”

“I’m getting my fair share!”

“And I am being fair in capturing you.”

“You and I both know these laws are a bunch of shit. It’s just those damn nobles keep us normal people down.”

“If you wish to argue about fairness – discarding the ‘rules’ will not help your case. Rules are a mortal invention. There would be no ‘fair or unfair’ without them. But the laws we speak of are intended to protect others from infringement and harm. Are they not to be expected or anticipated? The morally righteous have a habit of getting their way, even when they fail to live to their own standards.”

Adam didn’t know how to respond. He felt a real, genuine fear apart from the other emotions swirling inside his psyche.

She punctuated her explanation by pushing him forward with the wooden end of her spear, “My father tried to teach me a lesson a long time ago. Even the things we build to entrap ourselves have importance, and cannot be ignored. He did not recognize the irony in that statement - being an Ashmorn. You cannot ignore the rules and you cannot ignore other people’s will. Belief becomes action, and action will lead to consequences.”

Adam didn’t know if it was the usual bootlicking tripe or something more profound. He had lived a life full of moments like this. Sticking out and taking his share, only to be needlessly hammered back down by bounty hunters and watchmen. She was right about one thing, ignoring the rules had never insulated him from the consequences of them. They were real in all of the worst ways. He just hoped that the companions who remained understood the game like he did.

Take all that you can before they catch you.