Arin waited impatiently on the marble stairs for Mila to come. She kept craning her neck behind her to look up at the polished throne. The chandelier emitted an abstract light, focused on the throne.

           Her foot drummed against the polished floor. Where was he?

           To ease her anxiety, she surveyed the grand room. It was so wide, perhaps a few dragons could fit. Columns stood in parallel rows, perfect for little kids to hide behind if they were to play.

           Chandeliers hung above the white tiles and red rug, running from the door to the throne. The lights were surrounded in purified jewels, casting abstract shapes around the room. Banners were draped on the walls, each bearing the logo of a diamond Rainbow Shard. Along the walls were weapon racks equipped with a few swords and shields.

            Is he coming? He better, I would never be able to find him in a castle!

            She continued to wait, planning what she was going to say to him. He would walk in, she would run up to him and talk about ways to fulfill her destiny. They would sit, or walk around, and he would be incredibly nice to her.

           Arin’s plan was perfect.

           Mila entered the throne room, dressed in armor and holding his lance and shield. Arin stood, approaching him confused. Was something happening?

            “Sir, what’s going on?”

            “I had to change our plans today. The fort is open for capture and I cannot miss this opportunity. I wish to know if you would like to come with me?”

            “Well, um—”

            “Are you well? You have healed since your last encounter, right?”

            “Um, yes, but I don’t know if I can do it. After last night—I’m still shaking.” She gestured to her trembling knee. “I’m sorry.”

            “Don’t worry, I just wanted you to raise morale that’s all. I should be going, feel free to do whatever.”

            “O—okay, sir.”

           Mila stretched his hand out to shake Arin’s clenched fist. “I will be seeing you at dinner maybe?”

            “Unless you plan on attacking another fort,” Arin giggled, shaking his hand.

           In their moment of peace, something rumbled outside. Synchronized, the two faced the golden doors. Arin’s heart began to race, quivering more. It could have been a mere accident. Scarlet said that everyone would be working with fire today.

            “That sounded bad, shall we go see if everyone is okay?”

            “What do you think it was?”

            “Someone probably got a hold of a canabiz grape again. If they experience enough pressure they explode.”

            “But it sounded much worse than a piece of—”

            Spirits entered the throne room from several hallways. None focused on Arin as they rushed outside.

            “Mila, I think we’re being attacked.”

            “The bell would be ringing, relax Arin.”

            “Sir, I’m really nervous.”

            Mila gripped Arin’s shoulders, kneeling so they were eye-to-eye. “Child, you know I would never let Croun hurt you. Not anymore. I can guarantee that it was a canabiz—”

            Above, the bell began its warning toll. Arin began to panic even more, arms and legs twitching. Was anyone going to die? Would any suffer?

            “Mila . . .”

           He embraced her in a tight hug, pressing her forehead against his armored chest. “Calm yourself. We have to focus now. Let’s go get Scor and Gage, merge, and fight. Let’s save our home, okay?” She nodded, taking in a deep breath. “Focus, just for a little while.”

            “You’re right. What do you want me to do?”

            “Follow and stay close.”

            The two began to walk to the entrance, hand in hand.

            Shadows skulked into the throne room, the purple and black void quickly began to spread against the walls. It did not stop until it surrounded the two. Mila could see it, he backed to the center of the room.

            “What is this . . .”

            “Croun must be responsible. Mila, we have to go.”

            “Grab a sword and shield off of a rack, I’ll try to break through this wall.”

            Arin darted to the closest rack, gaze set on a sword and shield lying next to each other. Mila followed, pulling out his lance. While he stabbed at the shadow, Arin equipped herself, slipping the heavy shield over her forearm and unsheathing a light blade.

            “By some magic I can’t cut through! Arin, I hope you’re ready. We have to fight this out.”

            “Will we win?”

            “If we don’t we’ll be dead, and this castle will fall.”

           Arin trembled, was this the moment her destiny was fulfilled? Was this the moment the war would end? Where were the other Children of Destiny? They should be helping her!

            “Are you ready?”

            She faced Mila, her calm friend. He gave her confidence. Although her heart was racing, his gentle stare gave her hope. “I am.”

            “Good. Stay by my side and do as I say.”

            “Yes, sir.”

           The main entrance to the throne room opened. Mila and Arin hid behind a column. He pulled her close to his side. “Don’t say a word.”

            “Today, is the day!” Croun announced. “Today this war ends with me sitting upon the throne. Today our hard work pays off, right?”

            “The first thing I’m going to do is make sure these Crimsons recognize their crimes!” Scolo snarled. “They’ll pay. I’ll make them!”

            “Easy now, something could go wrong,” Kin reasoned. “Arin may be dead, but Mila isn’t. We must find him first.”

            “Correct, Kin. Abyssals, sniff him out, bring him to me dead or alive, I don’t care.”

           Mila’s grip around Arin tightened, she could practically hear his heart beating inside his armored chest.

            “You’re highnesssss. I sense that he is here. Watching, preparing something.”

            “I see. Anyone else?”

            “I believe sooooo, the spirits block some of our powers.”

This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road. If you spot it on Amazon, please report it.

            “You’ve done enough.” There was silence. “Mila, if you’re in here, show yourself! You and your little cowering friend.”

           Mila left the hiding place, gesturing for Arin to follow. She stayed close by his side, head hanging low. How would Croun react to seeing her alive?

            “T—that can’t be!” Kin gasped.

            “I don’t know which is more of a shock, Mila being here or that pyromaniac still being alive!” Croun unsheathed his blade. “Tell me, before I kill you both, how did you survive? I electrocuted you, Arin. How did you survive?”

           Arin faced Mila, unsure if she should cooperate. He shook his head. “Don’t tell them anything, Arin. They’ll kill you either way. Others are ruthless like that.”

            “And Crimsons are a bunch of abominations, monsters, monsters that send their own children to die.” Arin switched her gaze between the two armored kings.

            “Can’t we just . . . talk this out?”

            “No, Arin, we cannot talk this out.” Croun spat. “What does a lowborn orphan know about our war?”

            “Sir, we are ready to attack whenever you wish,” Kin said.

            “I see no use in words. Don’t kill them, I must be the one to do it.”

            “As you wish.” Kin, Scolo, and the two gigantic Abyssals said in unison.

            The first Abyssal reminded Arin of a scorpion. Two tails and four pincers, ready to rip through armor. The second mimicked the form of a centipede. Black goo dripped from both.

            “Fight well, Arin. Take death, don’t surrender.”

            “I—I—”

           The two Abyssals and Croun charged to the two Crimsons. Mila advanced to the Others, lance and shield ready. Kin and Scolo shifted into their own monstrous form, focused on Arin. Spider and fire monster, her two enemies since the beginning.

           Shield raised, sword by her side, Arin braced herself. Kin reached Arin first, pouncing on top of her. Claws outstretched, mouth open to release a roar. She dove to the side, as Kin barely missed piercing her with his tusks.

           Arin forgot about Scolo. He shifted into a wolf, ramming his side into Arin. She stumbled back, swinging her sword wildly, missing both enemies. Kin ignited his body in flame, releasing combustion from his mouth. Arin threw her shield up, popping her shoulder in the process.

            “How do we go about this, Kin?” Scolo questioned.

            “We just have to knock her down. It can’t be too hard; the brat must still be recovering from the battle.”

           Arin attacked Scolo, thrusting her sword at his neck. As the shapeshifter backpedaled, he slipped. Arin fell on top of him, plunging her blade into his shoulder. Kin pulled her off Scolo, throwing her aside.

           She released the sword, screaming as her back slammed into the stone floor. Mila called to her, but released a cry of pain as well. Scolo and Kin approached her carefully as she struggled to stand. Her arms barely cooperated.

           Arin hid behind her shield, making her way to her sword. The Others halted, assessing her movement. As Arin knelt down for her blade, Kin barreled forward. She backed away from her sword, cowering behind her shield.

           Screeeeech.

           Kin dragged a tusk across her metal shield. Arin managed to hold her ground, slightly sliding on the tile. The general retreated to Scolo, snarling.

           Arin examined her shield, there was a giant gash across the gray circle. She ran to her sword again, fumbled for it, and managed to grab it. She probably looked like a klutz to the two.

           Scolo bounded forward in his wolf form, mouth open to seize Arin. Instead of dodging, she decided to attack. Before Scolo reached Arin she shuffled aside, slicing her sword across his jaw. He fell over, nose slamming into the tile floor.

           Kin lunged again, throwing his tusk at Arin once more. Gasping, she tried to run away. Legs tangled, Arin fell. Kin’s ivory tusk shredded her right arm, cutting it open.

           She let out a shriek, hoping someone would come save her. Arin slipped the shield off, grabbing her sword. Scolo changed his form again, now a black and gold bull. Scolo’s gait was so heavy, he was likely to slip at any time. Arin stepped out of the way, clutching her arm, forming a plan to defeat the Others in her mind.

           Scolo and Kin circled her. While they planned out their next attack, Arin watched Mila. He struggled against the two Abyssals, barely able to keep them back. She had to help.

            “Surrender, Arin!” Kin barked, snorting embers out of his nostrils.

            “I can’t.”

            “Then you’ll pay the price for your ignorance!”

            Scolo and Kin attacked together. Arin dropped her sword, focusing on her fire. There must be some technique. She stretched her hands at the two, releasing red fire.

           Regular fire would not do in this fight, she would need her white flame.

           Scolo and Kin continued their run through the ember. Arin escaped the two’s path, diving forward, bruising her bleeding arms. They collided into each other, cursing. Their tusks and horns locked.

           Arin faced Mila, the Abyssals, and Croun. He let his monsters do the work for him. The scorpion knocked Mila over, slamming its black claw onto his chest.

           She hurried to the battle, lighting her hands.

           White fire, white fire, white fire. C’mon, c’mon . . .

           Her legs ached as she ran, it would all be worth it if she could go faster. Arin stood between Mila and the Abyssals, stretching her arms wide. The Abyssals snarled, backing away for a moment.

            “Knock her aside, don’t hesitate!” Croun bellowed.  Arin kept her gaze upwards, at the monsters above her.

           The centipede dove at Arin, exposing its chest. Arin aimed her palms at the Abyssal, releasing her fire. It was red and orange, showing no sign of white.

           The Abyssal retreated from its dive, hiding in the shadows. The other backed away, slightly frightened by Arin.

           Croun aimed a hand at Arin. Mila gasped, pushing Arin aside as lightning exploded from his fingertips. The bolt struck Mila, Arin tensed as he screamed.

           No . . .

           Mila fell to his knees, holding his chest.

            “You two have been such a nuisance.” Croun raised his hand to the ceiling. Was he summoning something? From behind, something coiled around Arin’s body, crushing her. As she let out a cry, she was lifted off of the ground. What was holding her?!

            “N—no! Release her!” Mila begged. “Please!”

           Arin opened her eyes, watching Mila beg for her life. Another shadowy hand rose from the ground, seizing his neck. Mila was pinned against the stone floor, writhing in the shadow’s grip. Arin lit her hands aflame, kicked, squirmed, but it was all futile.

            “Now this is better, don’t you all think?”

            “Let them experience a slow and painful death!” Scolo sneered.

            “Not yet. I require something from Arin.”

            She was brought to the ground, hanging in front of Croun. She stared into his brown eyes, trying to figure out what he wanted. He slipped his helmet off, revealing his identity to her. A firm jawline like Mila, some freckles, and thin nose.

            “How,” he began, “how did you survive? How do you know so much about Abyssals?”

           Arin remained silent, she would not disobey Mila. Her king let out a cry as the shadowy hand suffocated him. Croun pulled his gloved fist back, then drove it into Arin’s throat. Her head was thrown back, she gagged and coughed.

            “That is what Mila is going through right now. Talk, and instead of killing you I’ll make you prisoners instead.”

            “He’s lying!” Mila croaked, “don’t talk—” He kicked at the open air, clearly suffering.

            The grip around Arin tightened, crushing her arms. She bit her lip trying not to scream. “I don’t care if you don’t talk. I’ll just end up with you two dead and no more problems.”

           Mila let out another pained cry, he didn’t have much longer. Arin faced Croun, “I’ll talk! I’ll talk!”

            “Well?”

            “After the battle, Dargon and some spirits came and healed me! In my dreams they teach me things! They taught me how to summon white fire. I learned about Abyssals because at the Sparks of Truth one nearly killed me! Let Mila go!”

           The shadow holding Mila disappeared. He coughed, holding his throat. “Fool . . .” he croaked.

           Croun laughed, throwing his head back. “Now that you’ve cooperated, I have no use for you. I can kill you no with no regrets.”

           Arin gasped, trying to wiggle free. “N—no!” She was lifted high off the floor. Arin panicked, chest heaving. Please have mercy . . .

           The shadow slammed her into the stone. Bones cracked, blood rushed to the surface of her skin. Nose dislocated, probably. Breath gone. Croun lifted her into the air again, continuing to slam her against the floor. Blood splattered where she kept landing. There was no pain, everything felt broken.

           Mila cried, begging for Croun to stop.

           Over.

           And over.

           Her body kept contacting the red tile. Vision blurred, mind numb. Croun threw her body towards the throne. The moment she crashed everything faded into black.

           Darkness swirled around her. Time faster than a blink, but more drawn out.

           Was she dead? Dying?

           Where was Mila?

           Was the fight still happening?

           Did Mila defeat Croun?

           Did Croun take over?

           Arin opened her eyes, lying in a puddle of blood. Someone was behind her.

           Everything began to focus. Mila was lying on his back nearby. Croun stood above him, sword lifted high. The two were talking, but their words inaudible to Arin’s ringing ears.

           Mila . . . Croun . . . stop. You’re friends . . . Croun lifted it another inch higher before thrusting it down.

           Straight into Mila’s chest.