The world seemed to be moving on for all manner of persons. In a distant city, Sir Nodure had taken to preparing himself for a party in his honor where only the grandest of the nobles would be allowed to attend—as if he’d planned it himself. Another society to the north felt the gradual shift in the air as whispers filled tunnels and underground streets. Sashro and Jeseph had taken a few souls from the roads or work for treatment in the Chamber of Stars.

They couldn’t gather them all. Some broke the laws of The Spire and were punished for it. Others lost their path for some reason or another and needed a bit of alone time to understand themselves; hidden away in solitude to stare into the reflective jewels of the metallic walls. Others were questioned on the unthinkable concept of treason…

All other punishments were merely the route to best containing The Spire’s inhabitants. They, as any society, need laws. It wasn’t always with malice that Jeseph and Sashro instructed their teams to correct wrongdoers. Many times, they did so with a sense of compassion to better the individual to better the whole.

Treason was another matter. There was one or two of those that whispered too loudly in the shadows. They were turned in or caught on their own, but now came the time to find out the reason. Different tactics, magics, or even devices were used to extract the information, but they weren’t getting what they needed. The treacherous minds of those that turned on Lord Gohdin had to be punished, and the original seed of doubt had to be plucked from the garden.

Just as the Captains, many were loyal. Many were loyal to a fault. Two of such people were with Gohdin on his travels. One was hidden over the distance around the corner of a building.

Gorging herself, I imagine. Calzion Dreadleaf leaned against the locked door in the larger gate on the northern side of town. It was slightly off center of the main road, so the dirt path jutted to the side where entry or escape would be possible. The smaller door, one could much more easily flee through, was tightly secured and now supported the half-elf.

He exhaled at the sights and sounds with a breath of content. Not being one to applaud or even endure humanity, he listened to the distant chaos. A huff of air was accompanied by a smirk pulling up one side of his slender lips. He closed his eyes and listened.

Lord Gohdin must be putting on a great show. It wasn’t that far away, but the humans between him and his master did make viewing the spectacle more difficult. Even his elven eyes couldn’t make out much of specifics, so he’d given up and waited patiently. Surely, one or two would try to run. Gohdin did say he wanted to handle it himself. Only those that might escape, right? I’ll guard this side.

He thought of his companion at the other gate. If they see her, they’ll definitely run my way. He had a bit of a chuckle at the idea of humans seeing the intelligent monster for what she truly was. Calzion didn’t much mind her or other horrors like her; at least the more natural kind. They had their place in the world, too. Humans weren’t the only species trying to get by.

A click came from his tongue as he began to ruin his own relaxation. His ears weren’t picking up anyone close by, but he could hear the distant sounds of screams and running feet. They were pretty far off yet, so he couldn’t go killing what Lord Gohdin had claimed. He wasn’t foolish enough to put himself into that position.

“That aura.” He could feel a shiver run down his spine. The screams he heard and the lifelessness of the wind that blew across his face confirmed it. “That damned aura.” It was spoken with awe. True power had been shown to him, and now he knew those barbarians were caught within it.

Trying to move away from the thought, he considered how he’d handle someone making it to him. That hopelessness of the aura forced him off the door as he grabbed a dagger out from beneath his cloak and threw it into the wood of a nearby post. It stuck in about eight centimeters; perfectly horizontal. He moved over to it and took a quick glance down the road. There were some coming toward him, but they weren’t moving very fast. They were still a hundred or more meters away, and the wave of bodies falling behind them told Calzion that his master was making quick work of them.

“This was a lot easier than I thought.” He yanked his blade free. Smiling, he shrugged to himself, “I didn’t get to have much fun though.” It wasn’t a need to kill he was looking for, but a desire to prove himself to his master. By showing his skills in combat or even in assassinations, he dreamt of Gohdin’s praise. “Just one or two wouldn’t be too bad, but I can’t do anything unless they make it here.” He ignored the fleeing barbarians, still a distance away, to look at the gate that had two metal latches and a wooden bar across it.

It’ll slow them at least, he thought. Just enough for our Lord to catch them.

At least, he believed, he might see the power he’d never achieve for himself. But still, the memory of that aura filled him with dread. This forced him to turn toward the spreading battle. It didn’t seem any remained foolish enough to try attacking. Their only hope was to scatter like vermin and find a hole to escape through. That was the only option left.

“Frost Ray!” Calzion heard his master’s voice like divine thunder on the wind. A sudden sparkle of blue and white energies flashed over the running humans. A shockwave of freezing air tore through the street. Calzion froze in place, unaffected physically by the spell, as the powerful blast found its end at the front of a building to his left. Though it wasn’t close to him, the cooled air that funneled through the town sunk into his bones.

A thin sheet of ice spread over the wooden walls and the columns that held up an overhang above the walkway. Sparkling ice glistened in the sunlight as the cold air spread throughout the area. Glancing back to the battle, Calzion saw the true effects of the spell.

A line had been drawn in the street as though it were paint. Warmed dirt now had a spreading of frozen moisture over it, and three people were encased in ice. Two humans had been hit by the spell, but they were trying to pull themselves away. Even through the upset in the street, he could see two people dragging themselves as best they could. Wounded and frightened.

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“Oh dear.” Calzion smiled as the fight continued.

There were only ten people left. It had only been a minute or so since this fight truly began. Calzion already saw his master easily taking life after life. Gohdin was landing punches that shattered bones, he was throwing discarded weapons with wild intentions, and he was casting “Frost Ray” exclusively.

He might not have hit with every weapon or spell, but the wild attacks and brute force was astounding.

They aren’t even worth higher tiered magic. The weakness of these people made him laugh quietly to himself. “He must be having fun to not wipe them out in one blast.” The idea of his master being bloodthirsty did unsettle him, but it was far better to Calzion than living under the insufferable rule of similarly corrupted humans.

Gohdin was one.

Humans were many.

So, he waited patiently for someone to make it to his door. One of the final people, a woman with eyes opened wide with fear, had made it within fifty meters of the gate. Calzion would have let her get there, let her struggle with the door, and at that final moment she stepped through the gate… a dagger to the back of the head.

But, he never got the chance.

She nearly fell once after a blade came down as if thrown by the gods. It sunk into the dirt a few centimeters from her. Then an axe flew by her legs and began skidding and bouncing. Finally, as she neared Calzion—her eyes screaming louder than her voice ever could—an iron sword meant for someone using both hands plunged through her stomach. Pinning her to the dirt road, blood began to trickle down the iron weapon. The force of the attack bent her forward slightly so she could watch as the sudden pain became physically visible.

Calzion watched her as she examined the wound, looked to him, and began to cry. Somewhere, he wanted to hate her. The tears that fell down her cheeks were disgusting to him, yet he felt something akin to pity.

“You shouldn’t have made an enemy of Master Gohdin.” He spoke gently to the poor creature as if soothing a dying rat in a trap.

Her lips quivered as she chittered unintelligible words at him. She stuttered and choked several times, but he couldn’t understand her language. Her pathetic eyes called out to him. She drew him in with those pleading eyes.

Calzion watched her try to steady herself on the blade. To him, this time passed by with an excruciating pace not dictated by gears ticking away but by the sharp gasps of a dying woman. She tried to reach out to him, but her arm would fail and fall to her side. She’d have to catch her footing or she’d continue to rub against the edges of the weapon. Blood was coming out faster because of her shifting, but it wasn’t enough to end her.

“Seems he missed the spine.” Calzion looked beyond her to see his master finishing a few of the other barbarians that had exited the buildings.

“Frost Ray!” Another blast of cold air swept through the town. He sighed upon noticing his master’s ignoring of this human female.

“Ba-ba-ba,” she tried to find words that the half-elf could understand.

“What?” He was becoming annoyed. She was the enemy. What could she possibly want of him? “What do you want?”

“Bwease,” she choked out some spit and a bit of blood that had pooled in the back of her throat, “Gillma.”

Calzion tried to remain still, but he began to understand as the tears fell to mix with the blood. He stepped in front of her. They were slow and short steps, but he found his way to her in silence—only the sounds of her gasping for air and freedom passed the time.

Calzion took another look at the carnage down the street. His master was laying waste to them.

Just as he said. Calzion smiled again. He knew his master was powerful, but he noticed something else. Even those that had survived his magic were the first to be attacked next. There were bodies strewn across the road, but none that had been his target still moved. He’d been thorough. He’d brought them death.

“Seems he’s forgotten you. No. He’s sure of your end.” Calzion kept his eyes on his rampaging master that roared and ran about; dealing death as he moved. “Do you want it to end?”

Without looking down, he heard her give a moan and gurgle as if she couldn’t comprehend. His cloak shifted to the side and one slender finger tapped at the hilt of one of his daggers. Paying close attention to his master’s movements, he offered her this one chance. If he moves this way, I will let him have it. Of course, I will. It is rightfully his.

The half-elf watched as his master mercifully executed each before moving to the next. It was almost enough to help him forget about the aura of absolute dread.

“Des.” Her lips parted for more of the gathered liquids to flow out.

Without looking down… without looking into those teary eyes… Calzion stuck a blade into the base of her neck as quick as lightning. The blade was gone and back beneath his cloak. He’d cleaned it across the fabric before tucking it back into the scabbard, and the woman slumped against the blade.

She collapsed on the ground as gravity tugged at the corpse. Calzion took several steps back until he found himself pushed against the post he’d thrown his dagger at. He’d been gifted a single kill since the battle started, yet it didn’t feel the way he’d hoped.

No glory. No congratulations. His master hadn’t even seen it… but that was the point. He’d done it to end the tears and whimpering. He’d done it as he believed his master would have preferred—a merciful death… but death all the same.

Calzion sighed heavily through a half-smile. He’d be proud.