Akisane glanced at the sack drooping at the side of his mount. A trickle of blood worked its way through the cloth and ran down the horse's flank. There’s no turning back now.

Darksun’s steel rang against the sides of the well as it dwindled into the depths. With it, it took all the power and potential promised by the infamous blade. Akisane hadn’t explored anything beyond the ability to drain energy. Was it like the draining ritual? He’d never heard of a soloknight being drained until their body shriveled up, but it must have been similar. It wasn’t much removed from how spirit swords worked. Both pure and corrupted stole energy, but only from spirits. Was it all connected in some way? It didn’t matter; it was outside his purview.

Shank passed a round of wine to the quartet. There was still plenty in the barrel.

“No,” Akisane said. “I’ve had enough. Perhaps some water.”

The twist in Shank’s face told everything he thought about liquid, but he added anyway, “You’ll make yourself sick with that stuff. I’ll take a sip from some mountain stream, but that’s a last resort.”

“Well, I won’t be drinking from mountain streams for a while. I’m heading south. Probably past the mystic forests.”

Bahram’s gold jewelry jangled. “If you find the right group to follow, you don’t have to worry about direction.”

Akisane could count on one hand how many times Bahram spoke straightforwardly. “What does that mean?”

Shank wiped the wine from his mouth. “It means we’re coming with you.”

Akisane pinched his nose, for he felt a pang at the temple. Why the hell would these knaves follow him over the Duke? He had nothing to give them, no riches or lands—well, not after today. Starting now, he was no different from the desperate faces around him. Yet, the air snake promised him a strange title if he stayed for the tournament. What was it to be Shinlemune? He wondered so much that he decided to ask Hawk. The man read scrolls and codices, so surely he’d know something.

Hawk and Lopside must have become friends as they’d spent the last hour talking since the death of the Butcher. When Akisane approached, they went silent, pausing whatever conspiracy they were engaged in. The brown-robed scholar listened to the question and puffed his cheeks. “That must be another name of Thormagne. When the elemental druids disappeared and cast the realm into the Dark Ages, Hundreds of years passed when the realm held nothing but small kings squabbling for power. He briefly ruled the Two Halves and pulled us out of ignorance—a precursor to the Empire, if you will. Some call him the Great King.”

Lopside could lean on his mammoth arm and shoulder as if he were leaning against a building. “Time is a wheel, and it’s time for another bout of chaos. When the King goes, even we peasants won’t stand idle. And now we have you.”

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“I’m nothing without the sword. You don’t need me, but I can give you some advice. Flee into the hills. Duke Akitomo gathers support from the knightly orders to march west. It’ll be war between great powers.”

Hawk furrowed his brow and made a gesture to the city. “You are a great power. There’s a hundred thousand ready to follow you. And your sword has half drawn itself as we speak.”

What sword has half drawn? What was Hawk talking about? Akisane palmed the pummel at his side. It was still there, in the scabbard! But he’d thrown Darksun into the well. He’d rid himself of Thailoc’s quarry. But there was the cold steel in his hand.

The only way to be rid of me is to return me to Thailoc’s prison. Place me back in the stone. But do you dare?

I did it once; I can do it again.

Thailoc has one arm free and thrashes in a lake of fire. Does a rabbit find safety in the fox’s jaws?

“Are you okay?” Lopside asked. He examined Akisane until they met eyes. “Here’s the messenger you asked for.”

Akisane untied the sack and handed it to the messenger, who took it carefully and wrinkled a nose at the blood seeping from the cloth. “Bring this to the Duke and say it’s from me. But don’t stay long. Put it in a box and leave before the Duke opens it and stares down at the severed head.”

Afterward, he wondered why he’d sent the head. It didn’t matter, the Butcher’s men had witnessed the duel. However, sending the head went one step further, and now that he was staying, meant more trouble.

A gold hew lit the city thoroughfare and glinted from metal, and as the sun sank, it turned blood red. A sudden wind tugged at his black cloak and kicked up dust that hazed distant buildings. Instead of fading away, the crowd grew as if the whole city converged.

Darksun loosed itself from the scabbard, and he had to catch it, or it would fly away. He should have let it, but reflex took over. The black steel pointed skyward and drank from the dusk.

For the first time, he saw the moon shine red as well, and the dimness seemed to be a dreamscape.

A chant rose from the crowd of tens of thousands. “Down with the Duke.”

Lopside’s voice somehow cut through the thunder of the masses. “He will fall by his own son!” He knelt and looked up. “I swear my life to you, Akisane.”

Hawk knelt, too, and like the start of an avalanche, so did those all around. It was as if the King himself had walked into Dunaguard.

Akisane should have stopped, but Darksun pulled energy into him from out of nowhere. No spirit had been slain or flesh drained, yet the flow was the same. Did the sword take it from the crowd? He had no idea, but the torrent of power pushed the questions further away, and he felt rings overflow one after another.

Henry (Akisane)

Level: 16

Focus: Telekinesis

Secondary focus: Shadow walker, fire walker

Weapons: Darksun Sword - 85% corrupt, decay+12