Deka ran as fast as her feeble legs could manage.

Magic coursed through her veins like the percussive wave ripping a musketball free of its barrel; granting her strength enough to shatter any human joints that tried to exert it. A pathetic power.

One to carry her glacially by mystic standards, weakened by the lack of potency she dedicated to it, then weakened further still by the natural imperfection of a luminar’s body at letting their faculties grow strong by gorging on the arcane.

That Deka could feel as much magic slipping from her grip as was remaining in it only worsened matters.

Something scraped against stone in an alleyway to her side, out of sight yet rendered obvious as the smooth walls practically hurled the sound at her. Deka froze, turning to eye the area as she prepared for a fight.

She stood amid an ancient Yuyaran city. Pale grey stones bleached by a sun; carved crudely by hand and iron rather than magic, but sporadically decorated in the precise way only the dedication of generational mysticism could manage.

It was a style already dead thousands of years prior, crushed by the ancient Paradisan Empire of Arcane during its conquest of Unix and recorded only thanks to the memory of Immortals. It was a testament to the Alliance’s diligence that memory alone had allowed for such a complete reconstruction.

Typical of Deka’s luck, the Yuyarans had feared the sun as a tyrant and ensured as much of their city was basked in shadow as possible. It made for a terrifying battleground.

Her eyes failed to pick apart the wall of darkness within the alley, though it didn’t stop her from trying. Deka stared long enough for her heart to beat a dozen times before she was confident there was nothing waiting to pounce within.

I’m getting paranoid. It’s only been five minutes.

Taking off into a jog once more, Deka found herself still anticipating an attack from all sides. If nothing else she’d be ready when one came.

Paranoia was not, she supposed, exclusively detrimental.

The air was still around Deka, smelling stale and thin. Abandoned and old. Her pace brought it moving by as a breeze, and she marvelled once more at the skill behind the city.

Yuyaran streets lacked the grand scale of modern architecture, and in under a minute she saw the terrain begin to change once more. Slate giving way to sandstone, Unixian cold to Dewlzian heat.

Buildings were soon replaced by towering plateaus, twice as tall and thrice as wide. Deka recognised the opportunity they presented, keeping her eyes out for one that towered even more.

It didn’t take long to find, and scarcely longer to scale. Gravity made a poor obstacle before the strength of a mystic.

Deka straightened atop the mound of stone, feeling the wind against her body. Redoubled by the altitude, still too feeble to be testing for her balance.

She gazed out over the landscape. From her vantage point, there was no small amount of it to be studied.

The world was an uneven, rocky carpet before her. A mile of yellowed Dewlzian terrain, breaking into watered greenery before, finally, ending as a long, unbroken stretch of desert land.

Far across the pale sands she saw the black spire protruding upward. If Deka’s estimates of her covered ground were accurate, and they were rarely anything but, it was exactly centered in the great stage.

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She smiled, starting back down the plateau.

A mental jolt caught her from the slate around her wrist, and Deka’s heart leapt at the realisation of how much stronger it was becoming. Whether she was moving closer to an ally, or they her, the thought of finding help was one to bring comfort.

It shouldn’t. She thought, the notion sinking into her thoughts like a fang into flesh.

If Deka had her full power to wield, nothing she’d encountered would be any more than child’s play. She’d have cut through the Sieve, not scrambled, and surely found her team already.

Her feet met flat ground, and the jittery descent turned into a wind-conjuring jog without pause. Deka buried her frustration, clearing her mind and preparing herself. There was nothing to gain from agonising over what could be.

Jagged stones protested her run, only to be crushed flat beneath her footfalls. She was making good time.

Good enough that she barely noticed the magic-haemhorrhaging presence closing in at her back.

Deka stumbled to a stop, spinning on her heel as power flooded to the very tips of her fingers. She saw the woman charging at her just a moment before releasing great nets of solidified energy.

Luminox shone deep blue in the air like uncharged arcstock crystals. It formed netting cords, shooting forth perfectly like birds in formation. A dozen feet wide, seven high. Marked by minuscule hooks carefully made to grip clothing and hold the construct in place.

She saw a bald scalp disappear beneath the threaded magic, then reemerge a moment later as it peeked out from between two strands. For a second Deka felt pure elation.

The feeling died a moment later; trapped woman seizing the luminox with caloused fingers and prying it apart. It strained for a moment, then stretched and frayed. An instant later it was but tatters.

Deka stumbled back as the woman emerged from the falling material. Her retreat was sluggish, measured against the rush of her enemy, and it wasn’t even a second before she was caught.

A hand grabbed for Deka’s shoulder faster than she could back away from it, closing with a force that sent pain stabbing deep to the bone and dragged a cry of pain from her. Luminox formed in her fingers almost without thought, and she clutched the quickly-formed shiv as tight as she would a rope holding her over Eclipseum itself.

Before the enemy could do anything with her grip, Deka thrust the edged light into her wrist with all the strength she could muster.

The tip bit deep into flesh, prying the girl’s fingers apart as if they’d tightened around hot iron.

Deka turned and broke out into a sprint, pursued first by a howl of agony. Then the pounding of footsteps just moments later.

Fear spurred her on, keeping her eyes up front and her legs unfailing. Her heart thundered as she ran, barely audible over the howling wind.

Her senses seemed to catch everything around her at once. The softening ground as stone turned to sand, the burn of her lungs, heat of the air. Above all, though, she heard the nearing footfalls behind her.

She’ll be on me in no time, Deka realised, listening carefully for the thunderous pursuit. The sound pushed her mind to work, sending mental gears whirring fast enough that they almost hurt.

The land around her was flat and barren, without even the elevation of rocky mesas to give its level monotony pause. Try as she might, Deka could think of no way to turn it against her foe.

From behind, the crunching of feet against stone and sand grew louder still. Deka dared not look back, fearing the precious moments it would cost her. She was sure her enemy could be no more than thirty paces behind.

Do I really strike you as being worth chasing down? Why bother eliminating an enemy so much weaker than you?

But Deka knew why. Alone she was nothing. A nuisance, at best. Any threat she might pose would be in supporting her teammates.

Frustration burned deep and hot at the knowledge, almost enough to distract her from the screaming of muscle.

But she’s right, in a way. If I find my teammates, I can be far more than just a nuisance.

Deka focused on the mental touches of her slate, still bound to her wrist and quivering as she ran, noticing with a sinking heart that it was growing more feeble with every step she took. Her nearest teammate was behind her, then. And Deka’s flight was increasing the distance between them.

To reach her, whoever she was, Deka would have to stop running. Or slow her pace, at the very least.

Moments of thought were enough to decide on the gamble.