Lyra pushed the table back. It squeaked against the tavern’s hardwood floor.

Everyone heard.

Everyone heard, and everyone knew who it was.

They didn’t turn and stare as she walked out, they weren’t that cruel, but their stupefied silence must’ve stung just as hard.

The projections vanished, cutting off Amaya’s victory speech before it even began.

Lyra’s quiet footsteps echoed around the Celestial Swords. Imprinting themselves into the minds of everyone listening.

She slammed the tavern’s front door behind her, opening the floodgates for speculation in her wake. Jay heard snippets of conversation, but he couldn’t bear to listen. Both he and Akira sat silently, pretending not to notice the furtive glances launched their way by the pub’s nosier patrons.

“I’m gonna go and talk to her.” Said Akira.

Blistering anger radiated from Akira. His fist clenched around his new sword’s handle, knuckles white and twitching. The morning’s playful joy had vanished; Akira looked years older than he had while skipping across rooftops swinging his new sword. He turned to face Jay, his watery green eyes shimmering with volatile fury.

“Don’t. Let’s give her some time alone.” Said Jay. He leant forward, pressing his elbows into the table as he cradled his head in his hands. “What can we even do anyway?”

He wanted to think clearly. He wanted to keep his head straight, to think of the best possible way to help Lyra.

But how could he?

Vega was dead.

She’s fucking dead.

Akira stood up, jolting the table and drawing another round of stares that quickly flicked away.

Jay looked at his friend. He’d released his sword and clenched his fingers into a fist.

When the young samurai looked down at him, Jay couldn’t feel the heat anymore. A single tear rolled down Akira’s cheek, and Jay looked into his friend’s eyes.

All he saw was icy cold resolve.

“Fine.” Said Akira. His single word reply pressed into Jay, like a suffocating weight sinking on his soul. “Let’s go to mine. We can speak there.”

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Akira’s apartment wasn’t too far from Lyra’s, so Jay silently followed his friend through the familiar streets of Reveller’s Octant. They entered a gaudy yellow building and walked up to the sixth floor. Instead of unlocking the door, Akira waved his hand and Jay heard three separate bolts click on the other side.

Akira removed his shoes as soon as he entered. He slotted his new sword onto a wall mounted stand where it joined three others. Although there wasn’t much room, Akira kept his house immaculately tidy, he reached inside a built-in cabinet and handed Jay a cushion before taking one himself and sitting cross legged against one of the walls.

He released a deep breath and looked towards Jay.

“So what do we do?”

“What can we do?” Jay replied.

He slumped against the wall opposite Akira and tried to think. During the fight, he’d managed to stay cool-headed. It was a fight; he knew how to knuckle down and focus on those.

But emotions, subtlety, finding the right words to say? Jay couldn’t punch his way through this puzzle.

She’s just lost her big sister. Fucking hell.

Perhaps last week Jay might’ve been more helpful, but constant thoughts of Julian clouded his mind, raising once forgotten memories from their unmarked graves.

Fucking focus Jay. She’s right where you were. How do we get her out?

“Why’d you tell me not to talk to her?” said Akira, jolting Jay out of his spiral.

Why did I tell him that?

A lump rose in Jay’s throat. He realised why, and realised he had to tell Akira.

“It’s…” Jay raised his fist to his face and scrunched his nose. He pressed his knuckles into his brow and tried to force the words out “It’s what I would’ve wanted.”

He let out a deep breath.

“When… When my… Fuck!” Jay slammed his fist against the floor as his voice cracked. Like his body itself was fighting to keep the words inside.

He wouldn’t let it.

“When my older brother died, people kept coming up to me asking if I was ok, asking what they could do. I hated it. I just wanted to be sad. Was that too much to ask?”

Focus Jay! This isn’t about you. Get it together and try to help.

Reading on Amazon or a pirate site? This novel is from Royal Road. Support the author by reading it there.

“If we walk into Lyra’s house right now, what are we gonna fucking do?” said Jay. Clawing back some resolve as he refocused on Lyra. “Tell her it’s not that bad? But it is! It is that fucking bad. Her sister’s dead Akira. What are we gonna fucking do about it?”

“You want to just leave her alone?” said Akira, not bothering to hide his confusion.

“Yeah.”

…

“You’re a fucking idiot Jay. That’s a stupid idea.”

What?

“Maybe that’s what you thought you felt, but there’s no way it’s true. That’s not how people work. You heal with people Jay, not on your own. If you leave a wound alone it festers, it rots, and it never truly recovers. I can understand not going to her immediately after, but simply making her deal with it alone is insanity. I’m going to speak with her tomorrow, I’ve just got to figure out what to do before then.”

Is he- Focus! Stop being so fucking selfish!

Think about Lyra.

Leave your own bullshit for later.

“Fine. I’ll trust you on that one.” Said Jay, digging his nails further into his palm “You know Lyra way better than me; how do we help her out?”

“That’s where I’m stumped.” Said Akira. “I might be better than you at this, but that doesn’t mean much.” He tried to force out a chuckle but ended up just huffing air.

“Coach used to say you can tell a lot about a man by the way he fights.” Said Jay, almost not believing the words coming out of his mouth.

Man, I really don’t know about anything other than fighting, do I?

“Maybe if we watch some of Lyra’s old fights, we can figure something out?”

Akira stared at Jay, eyes cold and calculating.

Probably wondering if I’m really this stupid.

“Screw it.” A gold shimmer flashed over the young samurai’s eyes. “It’s not like I had any better ideas.”

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After nothing else came to mind, Akira compiled a chronological list of Lyra’s fights. He and Jay watched them from the start, searching for anything that might help.

Lyra hadn’t used essence in her first three fights. She’d defeated two other gladiators and what looked like a winged jackal with nothing but a dagger in her left hand and a rapier in her right.

By her fourth fight, Jay began to see her Harmony.

Lyra’s opponent parried every strike, using his claymore to deflect her slender blade away with ease, not letting her close the distance. He hadn’t landed a hit yet, but he’d completely nullified her offence.

After a minute of struggle, Lyra switched gears. Her movement patterns shifted, and Jay felt almost dizzy following her strikes. Her arms flickered, almost shimmering as they twirled her weapons around her opponent’s guard.

Jay activated Eye of the storm, narrowing his focus on Lyra’s swings. He now saw why Lyra’s attacks had confused him. A faint grey outline of an arm trailed every one of her swings. It repeated her attack, but subtly shifted the angle each time.

Each time her opponent blocked a swing, an ethereal grey outline of it would strike a moment later, learning from the first’s mistakes.

Lyra’s ethereal arms weren’t powerful enough to break through her opponent’s guard, but they were dangerous enough to make him block differently.

Which forced him to make more mistakes.

Lyra thrust at her opponent’s head. He blocked, pushing her sword to his right. He jerked his own sword back, preparing to block the follow up.

Too soon.

Lyra flicked her physical blade aside while her ethereal one sparked against her opponent’s block. She jammed her rapier into her opponent’s shoulder, effectively ending the fight.

As Lyra grew into her career as a gladiator, her ethereal arms grew stronger too. Over her next ten fights they stopped merely trailing her arms. They sometimes attacked first, and occasionally launched completely novel attacks.

Jay had a suspicion about what essence Lyra was using. He considered asking Akira but continued watching silently. Lyra used this technique to dispatch her next ten opponents. None of them could handle her speed and pressure.

The next fight was different.

Akira shuffled against the wall, straightening his back while still looking at the projection.

Lyra had ditched her dagger. Instead, she wielded the same black hand axe as in her most recent fight.

This time, two other gladiators stood across the arena from Lyra.

Her first opponent wore a full suit of armour, plate metal covered every inch of his skin apart from a tiny slit around his eyes. He raised a large tower shield in front of him, barely poking his head over the top, and wielded a Morningstar in his rear hand. Her second opponent held no weapon and wore no armour other than loose, orange monk’s robes. He had a shaved head, and when the camera focused on his face Jay saw that his eyes were completely white.

The announcer called it a free for all, but the nods and glances between Lyra’s opponents told Jay otherwise.

The projection focused on Lyra as the timer hit the final thirty seconds.

In every previous fight, Lyra seemed totally at ease. She’d stood completely still, and the ethereal arms hadn’t appeared once.

Not this time.

Lyra fell to one knee. Her face scrunched in pain. She dropped both her weapons and pounded her fist into the ground.

Grey lines broke off from her arms. Inch by inch, they dragged themselves from Lyra’s physical body until they only connected at her shoulders.

They didn’t stop there.

Both ghostly hands clasped the back of Lyra’s stony head, Ethereal nails pressed into Lyra’s physical body as they pushed against her neck. She let out a muffled cry, but the ethereal hands kept pushing. Instead of merely following her movements, it seemed like they had a mind of their own.

For the first time, Lyra’s ability expanded past her arms. Her spine emerged first. An ethereal grey outline of a hunched back peeked out from Lyra’s armour.

Lyra screamed in pain, but she didn’t stop.

The arms kept pressing. Forcing Lyra’s head to the ground.

When the hunched over spine had pried itself from Lyra, it snapped erect.

A head came with it.

Jay immediately recognised the grey arms as copies of Lyra’s. Even when they launched completely different attacks to their originals, they still followed her cadence and rhythm.

Lyra’s agonizing wails continued. She looked up at the golden countdown while the ghostly head rolled and cracked its neck.

Jay immediately recognised the head too. Just like the arms, it looked identical to Lyra.

But he knew it wasn’t Lyra as soon as the faint grey lines of the clone’s mouth twisted into an excited snarl.

It pulled its legs free from the original and stepped to the side, giving her twin a hand up before turning to face their two opponents. A ghostly axe and rapier formed within its fists.

They dropped to the floor.

She didn’t want them.

Vega didn’t need any stupid fucking weapons to fight.

----------------------------------------

The countdown hit zero, and each twin took one opponent.

Lyra didn’t take long to finish off her opponent. She hooked her axe on top of his tower shield, pulling it closer to her, opening an angle above it to slip her rapier through her opponent’s visor.

The ghostly twin was nowhere near as strong as Lyra, or Vega, but it managed to keep the white eyed monk occupied. Jay saw the spectral Vega seethe at its own weakness. The monk kept her on the back foot, stifling any attack before it began.

Preoccupied with her twin, the monk couldn’t see Lyra’s axe coming. It sliced into his forearm, opening his guard for ghostly Vega to punch him in the jaw. The punch had none of Vega’s explosive power, but it stunned him, and meant he couldn’t dodge the rapier piercing through his gut.

Lyra smiled gently at her twin, seconds before she vanished into thin air.

Fucking hell.

Jay looked across to his friend.

“The essence that Lyra uses… Is it…”

Jay knew the answer.

He just hoped he was wrong.

Akira’s grave expression dashed any of that hope.

Fucking hell.

The essence of the twin.