Ingrid was at a loss for words. It wasn’t like she could say any even if she had them. She couldn’t even swallow out of fear that the movement would cause Berith’s thumb to pierce her windpipe. Her neck screamed in pain from holding her entire body weight up. It all paled in comparison to the agonized wails that came from Malori. Now it was the third time she’d heard it. The second was with Alice, when the dark elf thought that Ingrid was going to die. The sheer terror that gripped her wasn’t something that could’ve been described with words. The fear of having her world teetering on a knife’s edge, the slightest breeze threatening to come crumbling down.

This was much closer to the first. The screams of someone who’d just had their entire world ripped away from them without being able to do a damn thing about it. It wasn’t screaming that stopped. It just kept going, barely even taking a moment to breathe. Malori clutched the dead Archmage’s robes, head against her chest, shrieking like nothing was ever going to be okay again. Listening to it hurt more than the pressure on her neck.

She’d barely even noticed when Colette had gone down during the fight. Out of the corner of her eye, she remembered Kallen rushing over to her, attacking, then being forced away by Berith. She certainly hadn’t noticed Malori move over there. Why hadn’t she tried to do anything to heal her? She couldn’t condemn Kallen’s actions, not in a situation like this. Allowing Colette time to get her footing could have meant the entire room itself being turned against them. They were barely dealing with Berith and Lilith. Letting Colette go unchecked could have been catastrophic. And yet, she couldn’t help but feel some sort of anguish to match Malori’s. The Archmage may have been her captor, but they clearly had some sort of bond. It had seemed like the poor esper had even found a friend. A friend that now lay dead in a puddle of her own blood.

The cries continued until they began to quiet not from stopping, but how horribly torn Malori’s throat was. Gradually, they became more like forced rasping noises as she sobbed into Colette’s bloodstained robes. Even the dark elf siblings seemed taken aback by all of it. Momentarily.

“Hey Ingrid?”

She could hear the fiendish grin on Berith’s face as he looked at her. Actually being turned to see it from the corner of her eye was worse.

“You didn’t forget that little promise I made, did you?” he was calm. Far too calm. It was scarier than seeing him angry. He raised his voice. “You know, what I said I’d do to your esper friend if you acted up?”

The screams didn’t stop, but they quieted a bit. Malori turned to look at them, a disgusting mix of anguish, fear, depression, and confusion on her tear and bloodstained face. Berith started making his way over to her, dragging Ingrid by the neck as he hopped down from the balcony.

“Well, I think, given the last time we met, it’s fair to say you weren’t keen on my end of that deal,” he joked, reaching into his armor and pulling something out. “But, I did say that if you used those little mental links, it wouldn’t be you paying for it. I think I’m comfortable with saying that you probably used one. Maybe two. Who knows! Who cares? Probably you. That sucks.”

Malori took in a desperate, shaky gasp. She looked at Ingrid with eyes of terror, begging and pleading for something she couldn’t understand. “I-I-Ingrid?” it was like listening to a kicked puppy. Ingrid winced. “Ingrid, w-w-what is he talking about?”

The last word was punctuated with another pathetic sob. The poor girl could barely even move. Her arms were limp as she sat in a heap next to the other esper. It made Ingrid want to cry too. How was she supposed to look at someone in this much pain and not want to help them?

“Oh! You mean she didn’t tell you?” Berith exclaimed in mock surprise. He looked at Ingrid, pretending to be offended. “Ingrid! You would keep such a thing from this poor, pitiful girl? For shame!”

Malori sobbed. “Ingrid!” she whined, desperation in her voice, “I-Ingrid, what is he talking about? Ingrid please tell me what he’s t-talking about!” she cried, tears making plopping noises as they splashed into the puddle of blood.

Ingrid opened her mouth, but the words refused to come out. She shook her head frantically.

“Oh, oh Malori,” Berith chuckled, lowering himself into a squat in front of the broken esper. Ingrid could see what was in his other hand. A knife. A knife with a strange, iridescent sheen on it that she’d never seen before. He ran the flat of the blade up Malori’s throat, using the tip to hold up her chin. “Y’see, I was underfunded at my last gig. I didn’t have the resources to block someone like you from sending messages in and out. I figured you guys might try that, so I gave her a simple ultimatum.”

Horror spread across Ingrid’s face as the realization dawned on her. She struggled against Berith’s grip, but not even a single finger would so much as budge. He laughed at her failed attempts.

“Ah? Now someone remembers!” he laughed. “I can’t believe you forgot! But Malori, I told her that if you lot used one of them, the one I’d take it out on was you!” he gave her a boop on the nose with his free middle finger. She sobbed again. Ingrid opened her mouth to say something, but was cut off by a yelp from the smaller girl. With a flick of his wrist, Berith left a small cut on her left cheek. Her hand shot up to cover it at the pain.

Berith slowly rose to his feet as Malori felt the wound, confusion on her face. Sheathing the knife, he bent back over, scooping up a small gem from its place next to her.

“So this is what you’ve been using instead of the staff, huh?” he sighed. She didn’t seem to know how to respond. He held it between his pointer finger and thumb, holding it up as though examining the layer of blood coating it. As soon as he’d started, he crushed it. “Shame.”

Ingrid looked down at Malori, making eye contact. Her eyes went wide. The gash left by Berith’s knife had begun to darken, like it was scabbing over. Something was very, very wrong though. The veins around it began to darken as well, until a spider web of black blood vessels began to spread from the cut. The same thing that had happened to her in Lhanbryde. Poison.

Malori looked around at the room. All eyes were on her. Some in horror, others with neutrality, and one set with a sadistic glee. She looked up at Ingrid. Her voice was a pathetic rasp.

“I-Ingrid… Am I going to die?”

Ingrid wanted to respond, but more pressure applied to her throat prevented it. Malori started laughing. It was a laugh that shifted to sobbing and back again as though she couldn’t decide which she should be doing.

“I-I’m going to die…” she trailed off. Her bloody hands gripped at her hair as she let out another scream, finally deciding upon crying. “No one listened… N-No one ever listened. Not Kallen, not Alice, not you, not Carys! Not a single person ever listened or cared the entire time!”

Ingrid couldn’t tell if a lump was building in her throat or if it was just Berith. It may have been both.

“All I e-ever wanted was a friend… N-Not even many, I just wanted to be cared about,” she choked, the black veins spreading further. She held the wound, nearly clawing at it. “Alice and Natalia hated me… Kallen barely even realized I existed… I can read emotions, Ingrid. I told you that. So why? W-Why did you call me your friend when all you ever felt when you looked at me was pity?”

The words hit harder than any of Berith’s punches. She tried so hard to say something, anything, but her captor simply squeezed harder, cutting off all words. Tears welled in her eyes. She wanted so badly to tell Malori that she was wrong, that she was panicking, just like Ingrid did. Even if Berith would let her speak, she couldn’t have. Because she knew that Malori was right.

“I tried so, s-so hard to pretend I didn’t notice. I lied to myself, b-blocked it out. I lied to Colette. I l-lied to everyone. Even after fighting Berith the first time, I p-pretended I didn’t hear what you’d thought about me, but I–” she was cut off by a violent sob as she fell, holding herself up with her hands. Tears rained into the drying puddle of blood, swirling and mixing with it.

Berith’s grin widened. He was enjoying this.

“C-Carys never responded. N-Not even once. I didn’t worship her out of belief… I w-worshiped her because I thought that maybe, j-just maybe, that she’d send someone else to love me. I-I couldn’t do it myself. And I finally found her.”

She turned to look at Colette’s corpse, half lidded eyes staring blankly into the distance. There was no light behind them.

“Everything I’d ever wanted. A home, a family, a-a place where I could almost forget about how much I hated myself! I had a friend! I had a real friend! One that cared about me and wanted me to be happy, who helped me laugh and read with me and held me and made me feel like I wasn’t a burden! I finally thought that maybe I had a chance to learn what it was like to actually be happy and you FUCKING KILLED IT WITHOUT A SECOND THOUGHT!”

Malori gripped her hair as she shrieked the last few words. Her face was buried in her forearms, entire body jerking with every sob. Everything else in the room was silent. Neither Alice nor Kallen said a word, both staring in awe at Malori as she cried. Slowly, she lifted herself up, kneeling as she gazed out at the three people she’d tried to befriend.

“Did you all really hate me that much?”

No one had a chance to respond as the little esper slumped over in the puddle of Colette’s blood, a pained and exhausted expression still etched on her face.

She didn’t move.

The black veins spread further.

She still didn’t move.

Tears began to roll freely down Ingrid’s face. She was the one that brought this poor, lonely girl along for the most ill-thought out journey she’d ever heard of. They’d spoken of death as a prospect, but it never felt real. This? This was real. It was real and it was her fault. It was her fault the girl was dead.

“Well, well, well, if it isn’t the consequences of your own actions,” Berith sighed fondly. He dragged Ingrid over to Lilith. She didn’t try to fight it anymore. How could she? She’d just watch Malori realize in her final moments how horribly alone she was. Natalia was going to die, only kept alive by either supernatural forces or sheer rage. Neither seemed to be healing her broken body. Neither seemed to be keeping her life force from slowly fading into nothingness. Technically Malori was still alive. It made it worse. It forced her to confront the fact that there was nothing she could do even if they managed to get out of this.

“Ingrid…” Alice trailed off, a hand held out anxiously. Ingrid couldn’t meet her eyes. Her lover had treated Malori terribly, and she’d been too scared of causing a problem to do anything about it. It was the exact problem Alice had been so furious with her for having, and yet when it benefited her, she’d been silent. Why hadn’t she talked to her about it? Why hadn’t she noticed how miserable Malori was? How happy she was with Colette? Because she was too focused on trying to figure out what the hell was going on with her girlfriend? She wanted to scream. Given how much he seemed to enjoy Malori’s breakdown, Berith might have even let her.

“It’s kinda funny, really,” Berith chuckled, crouching down to look at Ingrid. “We wanted to frame you guys for killing Ivar. You know, major political figure. But you guys really gave us a treat didn’t you? What better way to frame someone for something than to actually have them do it?”

“What the fuck do you even gain by–”

“Quiet, Adelheidis, the adults are talking,” he tutted. “But if you must know... Oh what's the harm. Y'see, as much as I hate to admit it, you girls had us on the back foot! Credit is given where credit is due, and I'd say you've earned it."

"Get to the point, asshat."

Berith placed a hand on his chest, looking offended. "Language! Did daddy really teach you to have such a foul mouth? Don't answer that, I don't actually care. The point is that I'm a simple man who wants a simple thing: war."

Ingrid froze. War? How did this accomplish that? Surely such a thing would benefit from having Colette alive and well? He didn't give anyone a chance to question him further before speaking again.

"Lilith, how long you think we have?”

“If I were to venture a guess? No more than a couple of minutes,” she said flatly, pressing the inside of her pointer finger to her mouth. She blew, and a shrill whistle echoed throughout the chamber. “I recommend you get on your knees, Adelheidis.”

This narrative has been purloined without the author's approval. Report any appearances on Amazon.

Alice moved to say something. Berith pressed his thumb harder against Ingrid’s throat. A trickle of blood began to mix with the ink of his gauntlets. She shut her mouth and slowly lowered to her knees.

Before she even made it fully down, the doors swung open. Immediately, the throne room was swarming with guards. Ingrid watched in anguish as her lover was shoved to the ground, two spear tips held to the back of her neck. Kallen wasn’t in much condition to fight back either. She could likely overpower the guards even in her injured state, but doing so without Berith killing her? Out of the question. Mattias was sitting against a piece of rubble, completely dumbfounded as he stared at the carnage. He barely seemed to notice as the spears were pointed at him.

“The remaining assailants have been apprehended!” Lilith boomed. The guards made a guttural noise of affirmation. She grimaced. “It appears a lapse in judgment was made, letting these worms into our halls.”

“Oh, that’s rich coming fro–” Alice was cut off as Lilith put a boot on her head, slamming it into the ground.

“I’m fairly certain you were told not to talk, cretin,” she growled, “Two of your number are dead. Don’t think I’ll hesitate to offer you the same fate.”

Alice spat. “Why aren’tcha then, huh?”

Lilith gave her an unamused look. “Because your life is not in my hands. As it was before, you are in the hands of King Gertrud. Your friends however…” she pressed her middle finger and thumb together, aiming them at Ingrid. Berith held her away from him as though she was about to explode. The threat was clear. Alice bit her lip, not saying anything. Lilith huffed as she lifted her foot from her head.

“Fan out! There may be more!” the armored woman commanded. “The situation is under control here. We can mourn the loss of Archmage Colette when the Prince’s safety is assured! And I trust you all know better than to worry for our King!”

“Yes Shadow!” a chorus of voices boomed. A man and woman in slightly fancier armor decorated with seals and shoulder capes began shouting commands to the host of guards. The soldiers began filing out of the room, though a not insignificant amount were left with the dark elf siblings. A solemn pair of women in mage’s robes slowly approached Colette’s body. They gently closed her eyes before moving her body to a small, floating slab of ornately carved stone. They paid no mind to Malori.

No… please don’t separate them, Ingrid thought, her heart aching. They’d failed the little esper. Ingrid failed her. At least let them be together at the end…

She was no esper. She couldn’t transmit her thoughts to the mages as Colette’s corpse was taken from the room, leaving Malori behind. Leaving her alone. Ingrid wanted to cry again. Her body jolted at a sudden sensation. She didn’t even care as Berith’s thumb dug deeper. There was a surge of life from the corner of the room. It wasn’t all at once, it came in bounds. It was like someone was clawing at the ground, dragging themselves forward in sharp, jerky movements.

The room was too crowded, her mental state too compromised, she couldn’t find it immediately. She parsed through the guards and her companions, searching for the source. It didn’t take long. With each stride, it called out to her, like a beacon. Her eyes went wide as she looked to its source.

No one else had noticed, her ability to sense life working as an early warning system. Then she started to feel the heat. Guards cast glances at the crater where Natalia lay stationery. One turned, pointing at the crater and opening her mouth to say something. She didn’t get the chance. A burst of white flames exploded from the crater. Ingrid covered her eyes to prevent the light from blinding her. There weren’t even screams. In the blink of an eye she felt six living creatures erased from the room. Berith’s grip loosened slightly, and the next moment, it was gone. She’d been teleported. She opened her eyes to see a terrified Mattias at her side. He’d brought them to one of the balconies, a pile of rubble giving them cover from the crowd below. The guards didn’t seem too concerned with their disappearance. Even Berith was focused on the flaming mass dragging itself out of the crater. Six scorched husks littered the ground around it.

Mattias looked over the edge of the balcony. “Is that… Natalia?”

Ingrid gulped, wiping away leftover tears. “I don’t know.”

Anger.

Natalia had always heard intense anger be described as burning. It was fitting, in a way. The same way a hearth burned wood, she burned anger. It was fuel. It kept her going when she wanted nothing more than to just give up. She’d tried her best, she really did. But she was only one woman. For years she was pulled by two halves of her own heart. She wanted to be small. Insignificant. She wanted to throw away the responsibility and expectations that came with her blood, her birth, everything. Live her life as a normal person, not be seen as a beacon. The other half was driven by anger. Anger and the desires that came with it. Two diametrically opposed goals, yet she clung to both like a desperate child.

She felt like she was floating. Weightless. Weightless, but being pulled downward as she hung over a precipice. For ten years she’d hung over it, the tension of being dragged in two opposite directions keeping her suspended over nothingness. She didn’t know how long she intended to cling to them. It was always a question that she put out of her mind, unwilling to answer it. But here she was. The ropes that held her up were reaching their end. If she stayed where she was, she’d fall. Plunge into the nothingness knowing that she couldn’t do either. If she could move, she would have gritted her teeth. She cast a longing glance at what the future could hold.

A simple home, maybe in the riverside district of Baile Cothrom. Maybe even in the countryside, away from the crowds of the city. She could picture herself going about her daily life, unfettered by the weight of her blood. Maybe a carpenter, or blacksmith. Something where she could work with her hands. Maybe even a spouse, a child or two. People she could love, wrap her wings around and pull close on a cold night, warmed by their embrace. The way her mothers would hug her. She wanted to cry. If she’d felt like a child before, it was nothing compared to this. She closed her eyes.

I just want my mothers.

“Hey, you doin’ okay?”

Her eyes snapped open. The precipice was gone, replaced with a cacophony of sensations. The railing she leaned against, the creaking of wood, splashing of waves, the sea breeze in her hair…

Home.

The thought was involuntary. A statement from her heart, not her mind. She looked up to see who was speaking to her. The answer she already knew caused her breath to catch in her throat. The gaudy, long crimson coat. The triangle hat held in place by the horns poking through. The bright red skin and yellow eyes of a mephelos. The broad, devil-like wings that expanded from his back.

Lewin.

Father.

“You’re up late. More flying practice?” he mused, leaning his back against the railing beside her. His smile was brighter than the stars reflected on the water.

She could feel her wings. Small, not long after they’d grown in. She must have been only seventeen or eighteen. Her heart ached. Her eyes still would have had color if she could see them.

“Couldn’t sleep,” she mumbled in a voice that used to be hers. She leaned on the railing.

Lewin looked at her for a moment, then sighed. He gently placed a hand on her back, scratching at the base of one of her wings. The wing began to twitch, then flap in time with the scratches. She pressed her face into her arms. It was an annoying reaction that never truly left. When she realized she was growing wings, what she hadn’t thought of was how sore the surrounding area would get. The things she would have done for a proper massage.

Lewin dropped his hand away, letting the wing retract. “Still getting used to ‘em, huh?”

“When did yours grow in?”

“I was born with mine,” he grinned, “Same thing though. Hell, one time my brother did it while we were racing. Wing spazzed out, landed flat on my face.”

“That seems dangerous,” she frowned.

“Obviously. I got him back though. Grabbed his ankle and he came down with me,” he leaned further against the railing, staring up at the stars. “So, what’dja see this time?”

Natalia gave him a confused look.

“Said you couldn’t sleep. I’m guessing nightmares again. Am I off the mark?”

She shook her head. “Momma.”

He nodded. “Penelope, right?”

Having two moms came with some confusion. For her, it had always been mother, and momma. The latter being just ‘mom’ as she grew older.

“Gotcha.”

There was a long pause between them. Natalia closed her eyes. The cold wind on her face had a way of calming her down. Her home. Here with Lewin, and the rest of the Stowaways. A random group of people who took her in when she’d lost everything. Yet they became her family. Strangers that went from friends to siblings, a man who went from captain to father. Gods, how she wished her mothers could have seen her. To know that she was okay. For her mom to know that she hadn’t failed, that she managed to get her daughter to safety. A hand drifted up to her cheek and wiped away a tear that she didn’t even realize had fallen.

“You wanna talk about it?”

She wiped away more tears. “Momma died trying to save me.”

Another pause. Lewin nodded, but he didn’t say anything.

“The house was burning,” there wasn’t much she could do to keep her voice from wobbling. There was too much emotion. “Priscilla, my big sister, she died in front of us. Momma grabbed me and started running. There was a secret exit. When we were running… Part of the roof collapsed. She threw me forward. It hurt, but I was okay. She wasn’t. She wasn’t trapped, but part of it landed on her head. She said to keep going, and that she’d catch up, and… I listened.”

“You sound pretty pissed at yourself there, Tali.”

“I am. I guess you could say I was angry at both of us.”

“Why’s that?”

“She told me that she’d never lie to me. That was the only time she ever did,” she stopped herself, her shoulders sagging. “I should have stayed. Insisted that she come with me. Dragged her, even. I don’t know, I just–”

“You wish you could’ve done something.”

She nodded.

“Was this before or after you killed the guard?”

“Before.”

“I see.”

Another long pause.

“Survivor’s guilt hurts, Tali,” he said gently, patting her on the head. “It will hurt. It’s gonna suck like nothing else for a long ass time. You know what the good part about that is though?”

She looked at him.

“You’re alive to feel it.”

She frowned.

“We can’t change what happened in the past, as much as we want to. But we gotta keep moving forward.”

More tears rolled down her cheeks. “I miss them.”

“I know.”

“I should have stayed.”

“Tali, she’d just lost her daughter,” he said, “You got out. She wanted that for you. Enough to risk everything. You wanna know the best way to pay that forward?”

She looked at him.

He smiled. “Live a good life.”

She slid across the railing, leaning her bodyweight against her father. He wrapped an arm around her in a hug.

“I’m angry.”

“You’re angry?”

“In the morning, when I don’t want to get up, I get up because I’m angry. I’m angry at the people who would hurt my family. I… I want to find them. I want them to hurt like I did.”

He gave her a curious look. It was a mix of concern and acceptance. “Is that what keeps you going?”

“Yeah.”

“Not the healthiest, but that can be a work in progress,” he smiled, “I’m a pirate. Not exactly my place to judge you for your coping mechanisms. We can look for other ones, but until then… Stay angry, Tali. If it keeps you going, then that’s the important part, right?”

She buried her face in his coat. “I love you, father.”

“I love you too, Tali.”

Another tear ran down her cheek. She couldn’t tell if it was real, or just the memory.

Once again she hung over the precipice, her grip slipping. She cast one more glance at what the future could have held for her. How overjoyed would her mothers or her father have been if she could have lived a life like that? One that was never meant to be.

There wasn’t a choice to be made here. She knew that even if she held on, that road would lead her to oblivion. The choice had been made long, long ago, before she even knew it was in front of her. She let the corpse of those dreams go, latching onto the only thing that was left.

Lilith’s face flashed through her mind. The woman who had torn everything from her was right in front of her, and she was lying in a broken mess of blood and bone. Everything felt like it was burning. Not from the pain, but the same burn that she felt when using her magic. Every beat of her heart was like a thunderclap. She refused to die here. She wouldn’t allow it. If she died here, she could never face her family. The burning sensation intensified in her lower back, spreading through her entire body.

Her broken bones scraped and snapped against each other, forcing themselves back into place. Agonizing waves of pain wracked her body as her sternum rose up, binding itself back to her ribs. Air once again coursed through her lungs and blood ceased its incessant leaking from her form. She placed a hand under herself. It took her a moment to remember she wasn’t supposed to have fingers there anymore.

Rolling over, she tried and failed to rise to her feet. The pain worsened in her lower back. Her wings weren’t responding. The leg that was supposed to be missing managed to force itself under her, giving a modicum of support. She stumbled, crumpling to her hands and knees. Slowly, delicately, she placed her left foot flat on the ground beneath her. The pain was so bad she wanted to scream, but no sound came out. Had Lilith’s magic destroyed her ear drums? No, there would have been much more pain. There was some left over though. They had been destroyed, but her body was putting itself back together.

She steeled herself. It didn’t matter what her body was doing. It didn’t matter what anyone was doing. There was only one thing that mattered. Lilith was going to die, and she was going to be the one to kill her.

When she screamed, she heard herself.

Natalia forced herself to her feet. The pain in her back exploded outwards, like two holes were blown through her. A burst of magic erupted from her as she rose to her feet, spreading wings that finally listened to her. She grasped at where she knew the edge of the crater was. Heaving herself up over the side, she managed to find balance. Finally, she opened her eyes.

She didn’t give a damn about anyone else in sight, or even the corpses that scattered into ash as she kicked them getting her feet under her. The only person she gave any thought to was the dark elf in the silent armor.

“You…” the voice that spoke wasn’t hers. Maybe one of them was. There were multiple. They layered on top of each other like a chorus as Lilith took a step back, fingers together to blast her with sound once more.

Natalia brought a hand up, pointing at Lilith. She realized that fingers hadn’t returned to her hand. In their place were flickering yellow lights that took the shape of her digits. It didn’t matter.

“You don’t remember me… I don’t care. The axe forgets, but the tree remembers,” she growled, voices shifting and changing pitch. “Ten years ago, you made the worst mistake of your life.”

Lilith rolled her eyes. “Am I supposed to see killing them as a mistake?”

Natalia shook her head.

“Then enlighten me, feral mutt. What horrific mistake would be worse than any I’ve made in the past?”

Natalia gritted her teeth.

“You didn’t kill me first.”