As Arax fell to the ground, a blood-curdling scream escaped her mouth. She wreathed around, desperately trying to extinguish the flames, but they seemed strangely persistent. For a brief moment, everyone in the main square froze, watching her in a daze.
The first to make a move was the only remaining wolf. Seeing his master and his companions beaten, his next course of action was clear to him. If he was quick enough, he could take Berla while she was distracted, finally putting an end to the cat and mouse game they were playing. Next he could go for the scripters, who seemed worn out enough that they might collapse any second. They were out of steam and wouldn’t put up a fight anymore. Afterwards, the only ones remaining would be Reurig and Hati, who he believed he could beat. The male wasn’t as quick and evasive as the female, and the wolf was not only young and inexperienced, but also appeared to be weaker than him—especially after Arax had coached them. As a former moderator, that’s what his brain told him to do. Eradicate your enemies at all costs, to bring back order to the world.
However, Arax’s training had also included two very important lessons. The first was that humans, and scripters in particular, were unpredictable. They were told to never approach them unprepared, and not to fight them unless they were certain they had a chance of winning, as they could surprise them at any moment. Arax wanted them to act strategically. Deals were preferable if they got you what you wanted, and if you carefully broke someone’s spirit, they would most likely cooperate.
The other lesson was that the four of them weren’t moderators anymore, and there wouldn’t be any diligence points for throwing your life away. Nobody would thank him, regardless of how many he took out.
Combine the two and he came to the only reasonable conclusion: he had to get out of there. He wasn’t certain he could win, and there was no point in dying in this place.
In a split-second decision, he turned tail and ran towards the southern gate as fast as his legs would carry him, abandoning his master. He would get out of Alarna. He would survive. And he would take what he learned with him. He had seen how strong a simple wolf could become, but also that this level wasn’t enough yet. Arax’s cautiousness had been warranted. It was the last lesson he learned from her.
***
While keeping one eye on her opponent, Berla saw Arax roll on the ground. The attack had not killed her instantly as hoped, but she was heavily wounded, and the fire seemed aggressive, as if actively trying to devour her. Seeing Arax helplessly crawl around on the ground, Berla was confident that even this monster wouldn’t survive this. And she seemed to not be the only one to think so. The wolf she had kept occupied suddenly fled down the main street. She considered giving chase, but when she saw both Miles and Riala collapse, she instead kicked off the ground and immediately headed for the one closest to her.
Berla arrived at Riala in a heartbeat. The young girl’s clothes were in tatters, flames gnawing on her dress. Even her hair was on fire, but strangely, she didn’t seem to have any burns. Her skin was pristine and her hair not actually charred at all. Berla still quickly took off her jacket and patted Riala down, putting out the fire with it, and then wrapping her in it to cover her up.
Hefting the girl into her arms, she stood up and looked back at Arax. She was surrounded by Reurig and Hati and her movements were slowing. Berla assumed the wolf to be at death’s door and decided to head for Miles next. He was lying close to the burning Arax, making this dangerous if there was still some fight left in her after all, but Berla had to check on him. She couldn’t wait, and she trusted the others to keep any eye on Arax.
Another quick sprint brought her to her destination and she crouched down next to her boyfriend. He was bleeding from his neck and one of his arms was bent at an unnatural angle. With trepidation, she put Riala down and rolled Miles over. Watching his chest, she quickly saw that he was breathing though, and relief washed over her. She ripped off part of her top and wrapped it around his neck, in an attempt to somewhat stop the bleeding. She looked between Riala and Miles, not knowing whether they would come out of this unscathed, but hopeful. Suddenly, a voice from behind her brought her attention back to Arax.
“I think... it’s over,” Reurig said.
“Hm, hm,” Hati confirmed.
Berla looked back at them and Arax was lying still on the ground. The flames had somehow disappeared, and all that was left was a black beast. Just like with Riala’s hair though, her fur wasn’t scorched. It just wasn’t white anymore. It was different from the other wolves that had fallen victim to Riala’s flames, who were burned to a crisp. This last attack of her’s was different.
The group had just barely begun to process their accomplishment when upwards of thirty guards surrounded them, pointing spears in their direction. Utterly confused, Berla took in the angry and fearful gazes fixed on them.
“What are you doing?” she asked, but nobody responded.
“Hey, watch it!” Reurig complained as they closed in and pushed him and Hati towards the rest of the group.
One of the guards stayed back and slowly approached Arax’s body, checking for any signs of life. Not finding anything, he gave a signal and proclaimed, “It’s safe, the beast is dead!”
After this confirmation, the Rulers stepped out of the shadows of the stage and walked their way, Grom leading the herd. His head held high and a haughty expression on his face, it didn’t seem like this had changed his stance on them.
“Well, well, well!” he said self-importantly. “Wasn’t that—”
Grom was ready to give them a speech, but was suddenly interrupted when he was pushed to the side by a young woman who proceeded to slip through the cracks in the guards’ ring, who hadn’t paid attention to who might get inside. She rushed towards Berla and the others.
“Wha! What!?” Grom spat, barely able to stop himself from falling over.
“How are they!?” Hayla demanded the moment she arrived at Riala’s and Miles’ side, getting to her knees next to her fiance.
“They’re both still breathing,” Berla said. “I believe they will be okay.”
“What about the beast that ran? And weren’t there two more?” Hayla asked worriedly.
“They will flee the town if they haven’t already,” Hati said. “The wolf didn’t want to take the risk of continuing and the bears fled the moment the fight got serious. They’re notorious for running away if they’re outmatched.”
“Is that so... That’s a relief,” Hayla said.
“Yes. A relief. And all so very convenient,” Grom growled.
The genuine version of this novel can be found on another site. Support the author by reading it there.
The guards opened up a path for him and he walked into the encirclement, glancing angrily at the guards who had let Hayla pass through. Some of the other Rulers followed him, positioning themselves at his sides behind him.
Hayla spun around and glared at Grom. “Convenient? They just risked their lives protecting this town and the lives in it. Including yours! Don’t tell me you’re foolish enough to believe that all this is still some sort of ploy!”
Grom glared back unreasonably. “The fabled category ten that had this town in its sights for weeks,” he mused. “And it decides to make an appearance just as the people start to realize that this boy isn’t who he claimed to be. But of course they are able to just barely beat it! Tell me, Hayla, what about this is not convenient?”
“This monster didn’t have ‘its sights’ set on Alarna, we’ve had an arrangement with it for hundreds of years!”
Grom’s arrogant voice briefly slipped. “We... what?”
“The Varant family has kept it in check for as long as this town has existed properly! And now we’re finally free of it, thanks to them!”
He thought her words over for a moment, and then looked at her with pity. “Oh dear Hayla... You truly believe these lies of him, don’t you? Do not worry, it’s not your fault. We will fix this.”
“What?” Hayla asked, taken aback. “What are you talking about?”
“I believe Grom’s referring to Mister Remor’s apparent ability to influence one’s behavior,” a voice explained from another direction.
All eyes were on another group entering the ring through a path created by the guards. Another group of Rulers, led by Berla’s uncle, Hertar. He was about to continue, when he, too, was interrupted by someone pushing all others aside to approach the group, and one in particular.
“Berla!” Berlotte screamed into her ear as she tackled her daughter into a hug.
“Mom...” Berla whispered, unmoving.
“Are you okay? Did you get hurt?” Her gaze ran down Berla’s body, inspecting it closely.
She drummed out a barrage of questions, not even giving Berla time to answer any of them. “How are you walking around like that?”, “Why didn’t you visit?”, “What have you been doing with these people?” She had been overflowing with questions, and was unable to contain herself, now that she was finally face to face with the person she had waited to meet again after learning that she was alive weeks ago.
“Mom. Stop, please,” Berla eventually commanded and pushed her mother back a little, eliciting a shocked expression from her.
“It’s undeniable, is it not, Hertar?” Grom asked.
“Wait a minute, you think he’s influencing us somehow?” Hayla asked, looking between the two.
“The situation was turbulent, but did you not notice the guards, Hayla?” Hertar asked. “They stood around doing nothing, just as he commanded them to.” He pointed at the guard closest to him. “ You. Why didn’t you move when Lord Grom commanded you to do something?”
The guard looked at Hertar uncomfortably, being put on the spot like this. “I... I couldn’t...” he stammered. “The only thought on my mind was his command. ‘Stay.’ It was impossible for me to act against it. The feeling didn’t go away until he collapsed. My apologies, Your Majesty.”
“Hm, hm. You’re forgiven. We’re dealing with powers outside of our current understanding here. Even the most talented Charmers couldn’t hope for people to simply listen to them like this.”
Hayla and Berla glanced at each other uncertainly. They had of course noticed the guards’ strange behavior. It was fortunate that they had stayed out of it, because such a group entering the fray would’ve only made it more difficult for the others to coordinate, but it wasn’t normal. And if the guard’s account of what happened was anything to go by, Miles had done something to them. They both knew that this was a new development, however.
“I’ll admit that this looks suspicious, but this is unrelated!” Hayla exclaimed. “Regardless of what the guards experienced here today, you know that I’m telling the truth about Arax, Uncle!”
“Arax... Is that its name?” Hertar peered at the dead beast. “I don’t know why you believe me to know anything about it. Hayla, the first time I learned about this monster was when guards sympathetic to us told me about the announcements Tomar made.”
“What...?” Hayla’s shoulders slumped, crestfallen. “W-why are you lying?”
“Think carefully, Hayla,” Hertar urged. “Remember the day they came here. The way they swayed the people in a heartbeat. Was that not suspiciously easy for them? And they threw us all in a cell, without a proper charge or a word about how long we were to be imprisoned. Yet two weeks later you got engaged to him, while your family was still locked away. Does that sound reasonable? No, they must have a special ability.”
“Hold up! Even if any of that were true, you told me about Arax a full year ago, after my ritual! I went to them to tell them about her!”
“Can you say with absolute certainty that this is the truth? That they didn’t come to you and made you believe this fairytale?”
“Did they get Berla as well?” Berlotte asked sadly, turning to her brother.
“That’s very likely,” Hertar said, nodding.
“Poor Hayla... And Berla...” Isona lamented from behind Grom. “My dears, we will do what we can to cure you.”
“Please wait.” Berla interjected carefully. “We aren’t being influenced by anyone. You must believe us.”
“Just listen to yourself,” Berlotte said. “Why would you silently watch your family get thrown in prison if they weren’t controlling you?”
Berla glanced at her mother only for moments at a time. She didn’t feel a strong attachment to the people who ostracized her for becoming a Fighter. And even though her mother still cared about her, she mostly seemed concerned with marrying her daughter to a Ruler in the past, to get her back to good standing. Berla didn’t hate them, but she didn’t mind if they were to spend a couple of days in prison. They would live. Confronted with them, however, Berla felt insecure, feelings of inadequacy bubbling back up inside her.
“I... I didn’t think it was such a big deal...” she muttered.
“That settles it I believe,” Grom said. “It’s really no wonder the citizens indulged them this easily, given this power.”
“Hayla. Berla. Have you taken a moment to look around?” Hertar asked.
““Huh?””
“Please, indulge me. Look at what they have done.”
Hayla and Berla reluctantly stood up as the guards stepped back slightly, to allow the women to peek through the cracks. What they saw was the main square in shambles. The dead bodies of dozens of citizens were strewn around. Blood painted the ground and the walls red. The temple’s front was crumbling, barely holding together, given the large holes in it. Many buildings had collapsed and the remains were burning, including the remains of citizens who had hidden insight. The smell of blood, burned flesh, and death was all around them.
The adrenaline fading, the two were able to truly take in their surroundings, watching citizens carefully peer into the main square, running to or from collapsed buildings, falling to the ground in tears, mourning the dead, trying to find survivors, and attempting to extinguish fires by bringing buckets of water from the nearest water source.
It was a horrific sight. None of the people there had ever seen such a battlefield, and if you asked who was responsible for most of this, the answer would be Miles and Riala. They couldn’t just brush it off. The way the group had fought Arax had undeniably caused pain and suffering.
As the town’s warning bells finally started ringing in the distance, Hertar continued. “You must also ask yourselves, how did this thing even get inside without anyone noticing?” he asked. “I implore you, think about your interactions with these people. Did you ever find yourself unusually agreeable? Did you trust them when you usually wouldn’t?”
Both Hayla and Berla frowned. In the face of this tragedy, and prompted by their family patriarch, they could not refuse. Was there a chance this theory was true? Could Miles have brainwashed them? As Berlotte embraced her daughter once more and Hertar put a hand on Hayla’s shoulder, doubt was starting to take hold in their minds.
I did like him from the start... both of them thought.