“There’s a way to lower your chaos," Jack said.

Sara pulled vines from her hair as she hopped across the mossy stones. A few feet below, a small stream bubbled through a gap between overhanging roots, giving her the first taste of fresh water in two days.

“Tell me,” she said, cupping her hands under the stream.

“You’ll have to do something for me first.”

“That’s not how this works.”

“That is how everything works,” Jack sighed. “Even the Calamity Dragon, in all its power, pulled us back only because it deemed us worthy.”

Sara lapped up the water, then splashed it over her face. “Some worthy hero you turned out to be.”

Jack wriggled against her thigh. “I just want a drink.”

“But you’re a skull.”

“I am aware,” said Jack flatly. “I just like the feeling of water through my bones.”

Sara sighed loudly to let him know what an inconvenience this was. She slid down the slope and landed feet first in the river. The stones were smooth and cold. Downstream, fish leaped out into the light, their silver bodies gleaming like knives. Sara held Jack’s face in the water, counted to five, then pulled him out again.

“My goodness,” Jack gasped. “I feel like a new man.”

Sara fastened him back on her waist. She gave him a pat on the head and then climbed out of the water.

They continued on like this for three days. Sara drank from the river and hunted the local wildlife with her bare hands. She didn’t have a fire to cook them so ate them raw, at first worrying she might contact some disease and get sick. But after two days of feeling nothing out of the ordinary, she realized her body could take it.

Jack was quiet for most of the journey. He answered whatever questions Sara had, but never offered any details by himself. He seemed lost in thought most of the time, and on the occasions Sara tried to chat to him, he wasn’t much of a conversationalist. Eventually, Sara took the hint and fell into silence herself.

By sundown of the third day, Sara broke out of the woods covered in grime and dirt. She stank. She was half-naked and dressed in underwear she weaved from palm leaves, but her stomach was full of meat and she had found the road, so she had nothing to complain about. In fact, she could barely contain her excitement.

Following the dirt path, she soon came upon trash and busted gear littering the side bushes. She salvaged what she could, managing to turn a snapped shoulder strap into a belt which she fastened Jack to.

The skull surprised her by suddenly asking, “Do they still have horse-drawn carriages back in the world?”

“You mean the real world?” Sara took a second to find her voice. She hadn’t used it in days. “Not really. Why the interest?”

“Before I left,” said Jack. “There was something called an automobile. My father said it would never work but I thought it had potential.”

“Well,” said Sara. “You’ll be glad to know we drive those things all the time now.”

“That so?”

“You’d have to ride miles from my house just to see a horse, in fact.”

Jack’s laugh was bitter. “What a way to make a man feel old.”

They spent that night in a tree. Sara picked a spot between two sturdy branches and settled herself in. She wasn’t afraid of falling. Her body was different now and could handle a little roughness. Not only that, it was as if her nerves had been upgraded, giving her control over every twitch and tick. She only had to close her eyes, and feel the exact shape of her heart, hear the rushing of her blood beneath her skin, and even adjust the tension of her muscles as easily as turning a dial.

You could be reading stolen content. Head to the original site for the genuine story.

She’d never imagined she could reach such mastery over her own body. And this was only at 50 points in most of her attributes. She couldn’t imagine what might happen if she got more, if perhaps someday she could reach 100.

She slept, thinking of that.

It took one more day for Sara to reach the gates of Bronzehaven. But long before that, she started running into other people. They all gave her the same reactions - disgust, shock, horror. A few tried to approach her, but a closer look at the wild girl with a half-eaten rabbit in one hand and a skull dangling from her hip was enough to deter even the bravest souls.

Sara made it to the city entrance without anyone stopping her. Pillars of brown metal stood on either side of a drawbridge, the links in the chains rusted with age. The walls were equally worn, sprouting lines of ivy down into the chasm below. Across the top, mounted on spears, were spherical lumps covered in rags.

Four armored soldiers stood guard by the first set of pillars. One of them strode up to Sara as she approached.

“Who goes there?”

“Someone in need of a long bath,” she replied.

The guard lifted his visor and squinted down at her, his nose wrinkling. “Smells like you do,” he agreed. “But I can’t let you through. The King’s Right Hand has given the command to hold all suspicious people outside the gates for questioning.”

Sara glanced past the guard. The bridge was down and throngs of people were going in and out of the gate. She saw wings and tails, and many creatures that looked like the fantasy characters inside her brother’s computer games.

Below them was a moat that stretched around the city walls. It was dry and Sara could see the whites of skeletons peeking through the soil.

“Is that a human skull?” The guard suddenly reached for Sara waist. “Did you get that from the wall?”

“Get your filthy hands off me, human!”

Jack exploded into animation, causing the guard to leap back in fright.

“A talking skull!” the guard gasped, aiming his spear at Sara. “Explain yourself. Who are you?”

Watching the situation unfolding, two more soldiers from the gate started to come over.

“The wall?” Sara looked up. What she thought were balls were actually severed heads. The pieces she mistook as rags were in fact bits of decaying flesh. As she stared, a few crows landed on one and started to peck at its face, tearing off pieces to reveal the bone underneath.

The guard’s comrades joined him. All four men towered over Sara, their faces hidden behind their steel helms.

Sara regarded each man in turn. In her mind, she imagined a hundred different ways to slaughter them. She took a slow bite of her rabbit, ripping the raw flesh between her teeth.

But then one of the guards shifted, and Sara caught a glimpse of herself in his chest plate.

She looked haggard. Her eyes were crazed and bloodshot, her hair standing on ends. Mud caked her cheeks and blood was dripping from her lips.

Sara swallowed. Was this who she was now? Half-mad and bloodthirsty, able to massacre entire camps of people without feeling a shred of guilt? What would her parents say if they saw her in this state? What would Yuzuru say?

At that moment, Sara made a promise to herself. She wouldn’t kill any more people. She had other means to get to her goal. No more blood needs to be shed.

It was going to be difficult, but some voice deep inside Sara told her that if she didn't at least try now, she would never get the chance to again.

Which meant there was only one way through these four guards. Sara knew what she had to do. She drew herself up, then sat down and started to cry.

Heads turned as everyone gawked at the little girl balling in front of the four grown men. The guards stood like tin soldiers, confusion mounting on top of their awkwardness.

“This isn’t fair,” Sara sobbed. “I just want to see my brother.”

One of the guards reached out but his hand hovered in space. “But I told you-”

Sara threw her rabbit, bouncing its carcass off the guard’s chest plate with a hollow thwonk and leaving behind a bloody splatter.

“We got lost in the woods,” she said. “We were attacked. He told me to find him here. But you’re not letting me through!”

The crowd got bigger.

Sara kept up the show, rubbing her eyes and discreetly wiping away the blood on her face.

People started to whisper.

“How could they do this to a little girl?”

“Heartless Sarraves men. Bastards just like King Rychard.”

The guards turned their anger at the crowd. “Get back to your lives!” one of them shouted, waving his spear like a fly swatter. “This is none of your business!”

The people surged.

“Let her in.”

“You’re abusing your power.”

“Bastard Sarraves!” someone yelled. He was soon joined by more until the shouts became a chant.

“Bastard Sarraves!”

Stones lobbing over their heads, the guards backed towards the railing, closer to the empty moat below. The mob pushed forward.

“Bastard Sarraves!”

The guard with the rabbit-stain on his chest lunged forward, his spear disappearing into the belly of a man.

The chants turned into screams. The guard yanked out his weapon and struck it forward. “Treason, all of you! I shall have your heads mounted on the wall spikes above us.”

The crowd dispersed, save for the man who was stabbed. He curled up on the ground gasping, his commoner clothing stained by the pool growing around him.

Sara bit back the rest of her tears. She waited, dreading the ping of another attribute point and the 100th point in her chaos.

It never came. Even after the man died, Sara didn’t get credit for it.

When it was quiet again, the guards stood over her once more.

“Take her to Lady Chanser’s Orphanage,” said the rabbit guard. “Let the city deal with her. We’ve done our part. I'm getting sick of the smell.” He turned and strode away, spitting over the side of the railing. The other three guards growled their displeasure, but soon, Sara found herself being led through the stone gates on the tip of a spear.

She glanced behind her, and saw the last guard kicking the dead man’s body over the side.