Fear burned at the back of the Vaela’s throat. Kaverlna was cold, but to order someone’s death so callously…

She spun back to Adyr and retrieved the knife from the ground. No time to waste–they had to get out now. She slid the knife between Adyr’s hands and sawed at the rope that bound them.

Cut through this, then drag Adyr out without being noticed. Maybe they could slip under the flap somehow. Or cut through the tent wall. It wasn’t ideal, since it’d leave a trail, but she didn’t have time to work it all out right now.

Timara’s voice barked out and Vaela froze. “Gerad is too weak. Would you trust him to do what he has to against that woman? His former friend?”

Vaela’s blood ran cold. The disdain in Timura’s voice. She wouldn’t really…?

She dug the knife into the rope and redoubled her efforts. The threads frayed as she cut through the middle of the rope. Almost there. Just a little more and Adyr would be free.

Kaverlna’s voice rang out, at a different angle–directed towards where Timura’s voice had come from. “And you, young disciple?”

Despite herself, Vaela slowed to a stop once again. She wouldn’t…

“Anything in the service of the Created, my lord.”

“You do well to serve us. And you shall be rewarded. Those faithful to me, to the salvation of Dome against the Twisted, shall be rewarded in the Peaks.”

Vaela’s breath hitched and she jerked the blade into the rope, ripping through another few fibers. My lord? Timura had told her she didn’t believe in any of this–the Twisted, the Created. Had that been a lie?

What was the act? Timura with the Church of Blood or Timura with her in the woods?

Vaela’s heart throbbed and she tightened her grip on the knife. No. The sweet girl that came into her shop every week–who just wanted to get stronger and go on adventures–she wasn’t gone. This was the lie. She had to believe that. That Timura wasn’t the cold-blooded killer the Church mistook her for.

Vaela grit her teeth and pulled the knife into the thinning rope. It released with a jerk as the knife cut through the last of it. Yes!

Adyr grunted as her hands were released. Vaela shoved the knife into its sheath on her belt. Timura had to know she was already in the camp somewhere. This offer to go into the tent, it was just a perfectly disguised deception. One last protection, one last sacrifice. Go in and hide Vaela’s presence. But what did Timura think Vaela would do?

She wouldn’t abandon Adyr and she wouldn’t run for herself. Regardless of who came in, she had to get out. Vaela grabbed Adyr’s arm and pulled her towards the tent wall furthest from the entrance. “Come on.”

Adyr didn’t budge, jerking back to lean against the post. “It’s too late–we’ll never make it. Leave before they catch you.” She pulled her arm away, shoulders set with resolve.

Vaela’s hand slid down the dried blood coating Adyr’s arm and caught the bloodied sleeve. It tore from Adyr’s wrist and Vaela threw it to the ground. They didn’t have time for this. She loved her, dammit!

The commotion outside drifted away, the voices and heavy footsteps of the priests and priestesses marching off to confront Hermit and the others. Vaela forced her way under Adyr’s arm and wrapped a hand around her waist. She heaved Adyr off-balance, something she’d never be able to do to Adyr at full strength. They stumbled to the side and Vaela dragged her towards the back wall.

“Stop!”

Vaela froze at the order, barked at her from behind. They’d been too slow. She turned, her heart throbbing, Adyr supported against her. Timura stood in the entrance, staff pointed at them. Her eyes danced between Vaela and Adyr and the tip of the staff shook. Her neck had dark bruises and her eyes were red from burst vessels. Shadow Swirled from her feet and clawed up her body to coat her. It was less like armor and more like something clinging to her–hugging her, desperate to comfort her. The Shadow wrapped around her until it reached her throat, blending with the bruises that marked Vaela’s betrayal. Timura jerked her staff back and stabbed the butt into the ground. “I-I want to help you. Go, Vaela. Leave Adyr and they’ll never know you were here.”

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Vaela stood rooted, gripping Adyr’s arm. It was too late–and they all knew it. Vaela released Adyr and raised her shield up. She lifted her stick, blood pulsing desperation through her body. If only Timura would let them go…

But it was too late.

Timura’s hands tightened on the staff as her eyes bounced between Vaela and Adyr. Her shoulders heaved–her breathing labored–and she shook her head. “All I’ve ever wanted was to protect you. That you, that we, could travel the world. Maybe even grow old together, happy and safe. Is that so wrong?”

Vaela’s chest constricted and she swallowed the lump in her throat. Was it so wrong? No. But it wasn’t right. Because Adyr already had a dream for her–to be old and angry. She slid back into a fighting stance, clenching her stick. “I’m leaving. And I’m taking Adyr with me.”

Adyr wavered on her feet and pulled Vaela’s arm. Vaela shook her off, her eyes blazing with determination. Timura lowered her staff, eyes narrowing, and Adyr jerked her attention to Timura staff. She released Vaela’s arm and Vaela faced Timura fully.

Timura prowled forward, closing the distance between them. Vaela pushed Adyr back towards the wall of the tent. She stepped forward to meet Timura in the center. The Shadow that clung to Timura sank into her skin, swirling for a moment just beneath the surface, before fading completely into her body. “You won’t catch me off guard this time.”

Vaela sank into her stance, distributing her weight evenly between her feet, and she extended the stick in front of her. Her thumb grazed the familiar notch and her other hand sank to the vials on her belt. Timura’s eyes tracked her hand and she hissed. She darted forward and her staff lashed out before Vaela could retrieve a vial. Vaela blocked the strike with her shield and Timura released a flurry of attacks. Vaela fended them off, pivoting as Timura tried to rotate around her.

No time to get to her vials. She had to beat Timura on her own.

The staff rang off of Vaela’s shield and she snapped back with her stick. Timura twisted, blocking the strike between her hands. She slid back and leveled the tip at Vaela’s head.

Vaela peered at her over the rim of the shield. “This isn’t you. A disciple of the Church? Let us go. You can still come with us.”

Timura gazed past Vaela to Adyr. Her face hardened and she refocused on Vaela. “Say what you want about the Church, but Kaverlna accepted me. I won’t go where I’m not wanted. Not by Hermit. And not by you.”

Timura stepped forward again and Vaela danced to the side. She beat Timura back, driving her towards the entrance of the tent. “Then respect my choice, like you did before.”

Tamara’s eyes flashed and she batted Vaela’s stick away with a snarl. “You made a choice for me once–the right one. But I was unconscious.” She jumped forward and Vaela jabbed at her torso. Timura dropped her arm from her staff and Vaela’s stick smashed into her ribs. Without flinching, she flung Vaela’s shield to the side with her free hand. Her foot slammed into Vaela’s chest with a fleshy thud. Vaela reeled backwards and fell to one knee. Timura leapt forward, bringing her staff down with both hands in an overhand strike. Vaela flung her shield overhead and the staff battered into it, clashing off with colossal force. Vaela braced for another impact, but the staff whipped under the shield and thwacked into her side. She cringed with a pained grunt and the tip of Timura’s staff appeared in front of her face. Timura stood above her, eyes raging with Shadow, and she leaned over Vaela. “I’ll return the favor. Make the right choice for you. When you wake up, you’ll realize this was for your own good.”

She raised her staff overhead in a backswing. From behind, Adyr limped forward with a shout. Timura spun towards Adyr as Vaela fell back. Adyr reeled, still unsteady on her feet, and the staff cracked into her side, eliciting a shout. The other end of the staff struck Adyr’s thigh, sending her crashing to the ground. Timura aimed the butt of her staff at Adyr’s temple and Vaela jolted to her feet. She wrangling the last of Hermit’s blood and released a Burst of Shadow from her hand. The Veil obscured Adyr’s face and Timura flinched in surprise. Vaela grabbed Adyr’s arm and heaved her backwards. Timura recovered and slammed her staff through the Veil. Vaela threw Adyr back–the staff snapping just short of her face–and Adyr stumbled to the wall of the tent. Vaela rose to her feet and snatched the vial of Alnea’s blood from her belt. The Veil faded to a haze, leaving her facing Timura.

In one motion, Vaela popped the cork with her thumb and raised the vial to her lips. So this was it.

No sparring, no stopping before one would hurt the other. As the Veil withered away, so too, did the illusion of hope for Timura. This wasn’t a match of could outmaneuver the other or to learn a new technique.

Blood sloshed into Vaela’s mouth, bitter with Power. She swallowed it and Sight flooded through her body. Timura resumed her stance. Shadow swirled around her in a phantom wind. Vaela tossed the vial near where Adyr’s bloodied sleeve had been thrown as Shadow seeped into Timura’s skin.

No, this was no sparring match. Here, there was only one objective: beat the other person senseless. Hit them until they stopped moving, until the one still standing could make the decisions–for themselves and the other. Whoever won this fight would see their will enacted. Upon the world and upon the other person.

Vaela raised her shield and stick into fighting position. This was more than a fight with weapons.

It was a test.

To see whose Power was stronger. To see who would break the other.