Arin woke up in the infirmary. Sharp scents of herbs and drugs filled her nose. A mild pain stung her shoulders. Some type of ointment was rubbed across her injuries. A soft pillow under her head, cozy covers tucked over her arms. What was with this nice treatment? Somehow Scor managed to get back alive and convince the Crimsons to take them in?

            Oshwa kept vigil on a wooden stool next to her. He smiled, rubbing her good shoulder delighted. “Good afternoon.”

            “Does Mila know that I’m here?” she asked, clutching her throbbing head. Oshwa nodded, grim.

            “Everyone was startled to see both of you come back basically dead. Mila said to cast you out but your mini dragon convinced everyone to spare you both from a horrible death in the wilderness,” Oshwa explained.

            “I’m just going to be exiled yet again . . .”

            “I think I’ll keep you around until I know what attacked you,” Mila snarled entering the infirmary. “That mini dragon was screaming about ferocious monsters that plan on attacking us. Human or not, I’m not risking another threat during this war.”

            Arin quickly sat up, watching Mila warily. Oshwa stood and stretched his arm out to shield her from him. He shoved Oshwa aside glaring down at her.

            “Tell me who attacked you,” Mila demanded. She began to shake with fear.

            “Back off, Mila!” Oshwa reached out to push him but two lurking Crimsons rushed in, restraining him.

            “You have no idea what she’s capable of. Arin can kill us all and I’m not going to hesitate to destroy her if necessary,” Mila hissed as a different Pure Avillian entered the infirmary. He was larger than Oshwa and covered in snowy feathers. Unlike Oshwa, he wore a general’s uniform.

            “Please! Don’t do this, Mila!” Oshwa pleaded. Arin drew her head back, brow furrowed in anger. “Hawthorne, please do something.”

            Hawthorne was quiet, standing by Mila’s side, taloned hands behind him. She focused back on Mila. “Tell me, Arin, what attacked you and I’ll let the two of you walk away unharmed,” he offered, slowly she shook her head in disbelief.

            “L—liar.” She hoped she sounded brave.

            “Say that again and I’ll slit your throat and then that mini dragon’s,” Mila threatened.

            Do not threaten my friend. I don’t care if you yell at me but you leave Scor alone. Her hands clenched into tight fists.

            “Liar, liar . . . pants on fire,” she drawled, blasting fire at Mila’s cape.

   Covers off. Feet bare. She fled from the infirmary while Mila stomped on the fire. Hawthorne smiled, allowing Arin to flee.

            “You imbecile! Someone grab her!” Crimsons began to chase after her. Arin made a hard right at the end of the hallway. The staircase was nearby.

            She reached the staircase first, the door was already open. Arin bounded up the stone stairs, scratching her feet. Behind her, several Crimsons pursued. Hopefully she would reach the third floor before they caught up.

            Lolling Crimsons cleared the way as she bolted past them. Arin finally reached the third floor. Door shoved up, she sprinted down the hallway as fast as her legs could carry her. Hawthorne was the first to appear, reluctantly he hunted after her. Within seconds he managed to catch her, feathered arms secured around her. They both fell to the floor. Hawthorne was careful not to hurt her, enduring her kicks.

            “Shush, Arin! He won’t kill you and if he shows any sign of it I’ll distract him for you to run. Just stop squirming under me.” She ignored him, shoving at his chest.

            Crimsons surrounded the two, none armed. None encouraged Hawthorne. They simply spectated. Hawthorne released her as Mila entered the ring. He was weaponless.

            “Get up and fight me!” Mila dictated, driving his foot into her ribs. There was only temporary pain, as if he held back. She whimpered scurrying away from him. “Stop hiding and fight me! How dare you use your element against me!”

            She shook her head remaining on the ground. “I don’t want to hurt you—”

            “You should have thought about that before releasing fire at me!”

            “Ms. Holt promised me peace, and—”

            “Otara lied!”

            Silence. No dragons roared. No jubilant laughter. No one spoke up to defend her like Scor said would happen. She clenched her hand into a fist, knuckle pale.

            “I risk myself over and over for you people, and this is how you say thanks? Two meals a day and a life of fear? I thought you were the good guys—”

            He kicked her in the chin, teeth rattling. No one joined in as he hit her. Arin covered her head to protect herself. She was thrown against the smooth stone wall. Things were still. She was going to retch.

            I don’t want to fight. I don’t want to hurt him.

           But if I don’t fight I’ll die.

           Their faces were so close his hot breath was on her. His hand moved from his side to her throat, long fingers curled around it almost completely.

            “Please . . .” she began, “I’m sorry. I’ll never—” His grip tightened, her breath gone. She lifted her leg and began to knee him in the stomach, almost crying. He released her after a few blows. Arin unleashed a stream of fire from her fist, keeping him away. Crimsons gasped avoiding the ember. Worried onlookers still blocked the wide hallways preventing her escape. “Please let me leave—”

            “If you were smart you would’ve answered my question.”

            His hand sparked with a pearl-white fire. Arin pushed herself away from the wall, both of her hands lit. Energy focused, she was ready. Her personal flame never hurt her, if anything it eased her anxiety and pain. It gave her confidence. She threw her palms forward, a stream of fire following her gesture. Mila did the same. At the same time two infernos collided. One desperate to survive the battle, the other eager to extirpate his foe.

            I’m running out of energy, there is no way I can beat him. I don’t want to die . . . Unconsciously her tears began to fall. Crimsons noticed this, a few whispers spread through the crowd.

            Both fires ended abruptly. Arin lit her right fist aflame again preparing to defend herself. His nose wrinkled in disgust. He charged forward, a sphere of light in his hand. It was the thing that put her asleep when she first unlocked her powers. It was the move that Mila used to defeat Coyasko. At the last minute. She evaded, stumbling over herself to get away. The sphere was launched where her stomach used to be; instead it went straight into a wall, causing no damage to it.

            “Stop it, Mila!” Oshawa screeched, “she is just a little girl!”

            “A human child. A human is a human and they aren’t welcome here.”

A case of theft: this story is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.

            “But will you kill her in cold blood? She’s only acting like this because she is afraid. We need to be her caretakers!”

            “Don’t tell me how to treat her! Her kind has done enough damage to me. I refuse for this animal to hurt anyone else.”

            “Mila,” Oshwa reasoned, “the only one who has been negatively involved with her is you and the Others.”

            “Do not compare me with them!”

            “Then stop acting like them,” Kilin interjected folding his arms. Arin just noticed his presence. He pushed his red bangs to the side, glaring at Mila. “I’m tired of watching you hurt this child. At first I thought you were right based on the things that happened to you. Based on our history. But then . . .” he smiled, “I got to know her. Otara would want her safe so I’m going to protect her as well.”

            “I will too. I thought this was just a lecture not an execution.” Hawthorne revealed his great purple sword. “I’m not going to let you hurt her. I don’t care what my punishment is. This is not the Mila we know.”

            More Crimsons readied themselves to fight back, some of their hands lit aflame. Other Crimsons’ fingertips sparked with electricity. Mila was in complete shock of this turn. While he was distracted she began to retreat to the crowd. As soon as Mila caught her escape he bolted to her, a new sphere aimed at her chest. Crimsons joined her side, two managed to hold Mila back while the others blocked his path to her.

            “You traitors! Let me get rid of her!”

            “Arin, get out of here!”

            Arin ran away, heart hammering her weak chest. Once she turned the corner she stopped, doubling over, gasping. She survived this horrible encounter, but not for much longer if she lingered. Shouts emitted from where the battle raged on.

            Sweat dribbled down her forehead as she continued to escape. There was nowhere to go, getting to Scor would be nearly impossible. She turned another corner, oblivious to where she was. Arin collided into someone. The stranger caught her, holding her up. It was Scarlet and Loid.

            “Arin!” Scarlet embraced her relieved. Loid was by her side, holding her up. “A spirit told me everything about what is happening. I can keep you safe in my room.”

            “A spirit? They’re real?” Arin blinked multiple times to make sure she wasn’t going crazy.

           Scarlet rolled her eyes gesturing for the two to follow, “of course they are. I can speak with them!”

   “Um . . .”

            “In Fynne, the dead choose to hang around and make themselves known, to provide comfort to those who mourn.”

            “It’s a slightly uncommon gift to see them naturally. I say a fifty-fifty chance of getting it,” Loid added.

            “Oh, thanks for ruining the specialness of my ability; and for the record it is an eighty-five percent chance you aren’t born with it.” Arin could hardly keep up with the two, her legs were aching in pain. Scarlet turned back to her slow friend. “I guess we missed most of the fight. Loid lend a hand.”

            “As you wish, Your Majesty.” Arin tried to hide her blushing as he wrapped her arm over his shoulder. “It’s only a few rooms down. Scarlet’s roommates are really sweet, they’ll happily welcome you.”

            “But what happens when Mila finds me. He—he’ll kill me!”

            “Friends wouldn’t fight against a king, but true friends will fight and win. We won’t let him get close to you. I’ll take care of Scor, and Scarlet will hide you in her room—”

            “Why help me though? Mila is absolutely evil.”

            “He loves children, and believe me, when Mila starts acting sane again he will show a lot of love to you.”

            “Doubt it.”

            Scarlet opened a door, waving the two inside. Arin’s jaw nearly dropped from envy. There were five sets of bunk beds, only six seemed to be occupied. Above this voluminous room was a chandelier. The walls were a light blue, the dark green carpet had hidden pink designs covering it.

            Loid guided her to the closest bed, helping her sit carefully. These beds are so soft . . . She glanced at Scarlet who was searching for a medical kit. Loid was keeping watch as the “doctor” prepared to treat her patient. I don’t get why they are helping me. Scarlet hates me . . .

            “Where are you hurt?”

            “It just a few bruises, I’ll manage.”

            Loid ducked back inside, “Patrol!”

            Immediately Arin was on her feet searching for a hiding place. Scarlet swung the closet door open. Arin rushed in, hugging her knees. The door shut leaving her in darkness. Shirts hung over her face, they all smelled rather pleasant.           

            “Why is there a boy in a female dormitory?”

            “I was tutoring him.”

            “With bandages?”

            “Medicine,” Loid explained. His voice shook a little as he continued to lie, “she’s . . . um, teaching me how to wrap ankles and feet. I . . . tend to sprain my ankles a lot in training.”

            “Ah, well . . .” Arin could hear him walk away. As she waited, she examined her injured body. Nothing seemed that broken. Was Mila holding back?

            He didn’t seem to break anything, he even tried to put me to sleep instead of kill me . . . That seems very much out of character.

            The closet door opened, Arin shielded her eyes from the sudden light. Loid helped her stand before guiding her to the bed again.

            He closed the door while Scarlet began to dab some ointment on Arin’s bloody leg. Loid joined her side, his expression only showed pity.

            “I just don’t get it . . . I have done nothing wrong. How can I prove myself to him?”

            They were both silent as Scarlet bandaged her arm next. Arin winced in pain. Loid stood up and moved by the window. Arin grunted as more of this special ointment was rubbed across her injuries.

            “You will have to go down to the infirmary. I’m pretty sure you should get a proper examination. I’m only a rookie at this stuff.”

            “Will you please come with me at least? I’m scared of Mila.”

            Scarlet nodded, placing everything back into the bin. “I’m sorry I wasn’t too much help.”

            “Scarlet, they’re out again,” Loid announced waving her over.

            “About time.” She rushed to his side peering outside as well.

            “What?”

            “When Crimsons train in full armor it is either preparation for another offensive attack or it could be a new set of offensive attackers. Basically, we are going to fight offensively.”

            “So . . .?”

            “The Crimsons are finally going to do a full out offensive attack. We are hoping to be allowed to take part in it. A few students from each Rank will be chosen to go and help. Think of it as some sort of test.”

            “Are you crazy? Those Others are going to kill you!”

            “Oh I totally forgot that you don’t know how we attack. We usually attack several times in one month. This is how we destroyed three of their forts already. We are making our way to the capital, which is on the other side of this continent. They may be closer to taking over our capital but . . .”

            “Now that you’re here we can find the Children of Destiny.” Loid turned to face her, smiling. “Well . . . it is your choice who to help. But you’ll help us win, right?”

            Arin lowered her head, trying to avoid eye contact. “Both sides have been awful to me . . .”

            Loid gasped clearly offended, “we are a lot better than those Others! Arin, Mila is the only ‘bad’ one here! Once you prove yourself—”

            “Which I have yet to do.”

            “I know!” Scarlet snapped her fingers as she realized something. “If the two of us are asked you should join us! You can sneak out or something!”

            “Really?” This conversation just went in a full circle. Maybe they’re right, maybe this is for the better. “When do you plan on heading out?”

            Scarlet’s eyes lit up, “you’ll come? It would be six days from now! Oh thank you so much, Arin!”

            “What happens if you aren’t chosen and get caught? Wouldn’t you be expelled?”

            “Nah, other high Rank students have done this before they only lost a few points from their grade. We both managed to get ours to basically perfect so we can manage a slight deduction. Plus with our perfect grades I’m sure that we will be chosen.”

            “Why sneak out if you aren’t chosen? That shows that you clearly aren’t ready.”

            “Revenge. They took everything from me and I won’t stop until my family is avenged. Who knows how long we will be alive for? I want them to pay before I die sitting around this place.”

            “Plus, you won’t have to return to the Crimsons. This is the perfect opportunity for Scor and you to help us attack before running away. You can go to a Province and hide there! We have our elements too, we should be fine.”

            It was tempting and absolutely stupid. Sure, Croun and the Others may kill them but at least it wouldn’t be by Mila’s hands. She looked into Scarlet’s eyes, her friend’s determination was brighter than her fire.

            “Fine,” she sighed, “I’ll help but if we die you two are to blame.”