The next morning, I heard the news. Maria had stopped an intruder that attempted to steal Kirill away. Maria refused to eat. Her eyes weakly stared into nothing as she tapped at the same table we’d spoken with Matrie at the day before. I thought to say something, but she had none of it. Her responses were single words, and at no point did she even bother to return a line of conversation. She’d killed others before. Perhaps because of that, her behavior was strange to me. She’d killed again and again in my name, and now was the time that the guilt finally pulled at her heart? Even if she refused to admit it, Matrie meant something to her.

“Would you have called her…a friend of yours?” I asked. It was a weak attempt, but it was something that had bothered me since she spoke of Matrie in the past. Maria had deliberately avoided using the word. It was a small detail, and maybe only reflective of Maria’s coldness towards her peers, but I had to know.

“She sacrificed herself for my sake.” Maria responded.

“There was no world where the three of us could find happiness. But if it was only you and I, it might be possible.” I said.

“Indeed. I felt it, Anastasia. For the first time, mercy.She had the perfect chance to force poison into our hearts and yet she relented. She accepted that fate for herself.”

“She was gentle and kind, in spite of her existence as a doll. Do you know what she did after leaving the academy?” I asked.

“She never left. Emily brought her on as an instructor, so she never saw the battlefield. As for me, other than some choice in the unit I’d serve in, I was still forced into the main force. Becoming an instructor was never a possibility for me, however. I could never match her kindness. It’s become clear to me. I am a hollow shell, made only for causing death.”

“You needn’t speak of yourself that way. Even if you aren’t there for yourself, I am always here. And that should be enough, is it not?”

“I had a thought, when I stared at her laying on the ground-d.” Maria’s last word turned into a stutter, and tears flowed from her eyes, one by one, until they formed a dark stain in the muffler on her neck. “She…she wasn’t strong enough. She wasn’t strong enough to see her dreams come true. But maybe, maybe…”

“It has been so long since I have seen you crying. You should not hide your feelings, as they’ve been frozen for many years.” I reached across the table and grabbed Maria’s hand. It was cold, as if she’d soaked her hand in a pond.

“We can inherit her dream. The Academy can rise again.” Maria sniffled and hid her face from me. She was accustomed to keeping her stony expression, no matter what. Showing her face like this must have been embarrassing. But even as it was buried under her sleeve, I imagined clearly how it looked. Red and vulnerable, wracked with unbearable pain.

“We have been granted power. The thousand-tailed serpent lent us its aid because it wants to see our world created. And that means Matrie’s world as well.” I gripped Maria’s hand strongly. With her free hand, she clumsily attempted to force a spoonful stew into her mouth from under her arm.

—

The throne room was empty. Emily and Akari had been given leave to see Emily’s child, and so Isa sat alone. The Academy dolls were quite adept at handling official matters, and so most of it passed by without her interference. She held all of the power and none of the nuisances that come with dominion over a nation. She was comfortable. Only one thing nagged at her mind, annoying and raring for attention like a hurting tooth. She had not heard news on Matrie’s progress with tracking that exiled emperor. Oum claimed he could feel that man’s every movement, and Matrie had taken a godsteed to make the journey even faster. And yet, no word on her return. The anxiety of the matter bothered Isa, and every few minutes she stood up and paced a few circles before returning to her seat.

A pool of red appeared at the opposite end of the room, behind a pillar. Oum’s figure emerged from the pool, his hideous face showing the same vile smile. The fact that he’d returned alone made Isa’s heart skip a beat.

“My queen.” Oum took a bow. “I am afraid I have some heartbreaking news.”

“I have not asked for you. Where is Matrie?” Isa asked.

“No longer with us, I fear.”

“Hm.” Isa pondered his words. “A shame. She was a gem among a thousand pebbles. Unlike you, who should be honored to even be allowed to live.”

“My queen.”

“Her life had importance. The world lost a valuable woman. Oum, the foul blood sorcerer. How have you returned so quickly? It hasn’t been a fortnight since you left, and I fail to recall you taking a godsteed.” Isa inquired. Oum had seemed a strange existence ever since the two had met. He was never spotted out and about, only appearing to speak, before vanishing again. She suspected something unusual about the way he moved, and this case served to further fuel her unease.

Oum chuckled to himself. “My queen, I am blood and blood is I. Where blood flows, I am. The bloodshed of recent years has…yes! It has widened my domain. All blood serves me, whether fresh or dry. My body is blood, and so I stand above death.”

“Perfect.” Isa pointed a finger at him, but this time no fire spilled from it. “What becomes of the exiled emperor?”

“He roams free. Matrie attempted to capture him unharmed. A grave mistake! It cost her her life!” Oum laughed loudly upon remembering the night.

“So you failed. It was your task too.” Isa’s mind raced as she spoke. It was quickly clear to her that should he turn against her, he could be dangerous. The source of her authority was power. And so, someone who could question that power also held the right to question her authority. Even so, her ideals gripped her heart. If the time came when Isa had to burn down the palace to take Oum with it, she wouldn’t hesitate to light the fire.

“Yes. My greatest apologies, this old fool did not succeed in his task.” Oum held his head low.

“You should have died instead of Matrie. You did not spare even an effort to capture that man, did you. Your old bones sat back and watched as she was killed. Some ally you are.” Isa’s eyes burned with anger. “One last chance, Oum.”

“My queen?”

“One night, when I was lying down to sleep, I thought of Matrie’s dream. There needn’t be any more bloodshed to see the realization of the Academy’s independence. Such an outcome has already come to pass. I need only prevent the void star from returning, and we can rest in our victory. But my heart will not be satisfied from that. The scars of humiliation do not fade so easily. My hunger for blood has been sated, yes, but there is still one man who I must see dead. It is only just. Oum, find me the exiled emperor. But do be warned. Fail again and I will teach you how truly hot my rage can be.”

Matrie’s death left an impact on Isa. The reality that she’d sent a loyal subordinate to their death again nagged at the back of her mind. Not only that, she died for nothing, holding on to the vain thought that Isa might realize her dream. Matrie’s death would not be for naught. It could not be. Oum would be useful for that purpose. Oum’s sloth in preventing the death of his ally further aggravated Isa. He had to pay for his crime eventually. Until she had a chance to dispose of him, she would continue to throw him at her enemies; perhaps his vile tricks could do some good.

—

“Em, it’s been a while.” Lilac curled up in the corner, atop a medium-sized bookshelf. She examined a curious-looking curved glass vial with a stringy, pencil-like mushroom contained within. Every time Lilac blinked, the mushroom bounded up and down, as if following her movements.

“Lilac! How have you been?” Emily ran up to Lilac to give her a hug. Lilac’s tiny body was like a stuffed animal in comparison to Emily, but unlike a stuffed animal she struggled to free herself from Emily’s grip. The two were inside a tower near the palace, a southern pillar of stone shooting into the sky. Nothing was kept here but Lilac and Vivian, as prisoners while Emily fulfilled her duty.

“Not too well, but not badly. At least we’re safe. I managed to save a good number of my specimens too. I’ve made some more, if you’d like to see them.”

“That’s good to hear. Have you been eating well? Can you leave the tower?” Emily patted Lilac’s back, checking for tears and scratches, just like a doting mother. “And Viv, how has she been?”

“They feed us well. I can get whatever I ask for. We can come out once a day, and sometimes I take Viv for a walk around the town. You can ask Viv how she feels about all this, but I haven’t heard any complaints from her.”

“Viv!” Emily called out to her daughter. Vivian was kneeled on her bed, staring out of a barred window. From this height, Emily was thankful that such a precaution existed, even if her daughter was well trained enough to keep herself from falling out of a window. As Vivian looked over, her eyes lit up with joy, and she clumsily fell off the bed as she ran to embrace her mother.

“Lady! I have missed you.”

“Speaking of which, why does your daughter call you ‘Lady’? I’ve been wondering about that ever since you called me over. No ‘ma’, ‘mother’, or anything normal.”

“Oh, that.” Emily smiled as she remembered the years past. “When Viv was very young, everyone around me called me Lady, and she picked it up from them. That is all.”

“Lady is my mother. But she’s always at work, so I call her Lady.” Viv cheerily stated. A wooden doll, crudely cut into a princess with a wide wooden dress and thick curls of hair, sat in Vivian’s tiny hand. Emily hadn’t remembered Vivian holding on to anything of the sort.

“Lilac, did you make that?” Emily asked.

“I did, why?”

“Nothing. It reminded me of a girl I saw not long ago, that’s all. It’s very kind of you.” Emily said.

“If you’re forcing me to babysit your kid, I might as well do my best at it. Not much else to do here, anyways. So? You’ve come here to chat?” Lilac asked. She knew full well what Emily had in store; their younger adventurers had made Lilac all too familiar with Emily’s face when she was plotting something.

“I’m breaking us out.”

“And? What of Akari? You and I both know the thing that inhabits her body.” Lilac eyed her suspiciously.

“We’ll put her captor’s loyalty to the test. Echen is a failed experiment, a relic of an age forgotten. We’d be best to rid the world of him.”

—

A thick fog blanketed the stone-strewn streets of Iralsk. Buildings of wood and brick reduced to rubble and overrun by vegetation adorned empty walkways. The moisture on Canary’s skin soothed his mind. Compared to the sweltering humidity of the prior days, this was a welcome change.

Cracks lined with wild vines and roots ran along every stone path, and if it were not for the captain’s hand tightly gripping his, he surely would have lost his way. Instead, they slowly made their way south. Canary frequently pulled his foot from an inconveniently wide crack, and as Anastasia focused her attention on the compass at the front of the group, progress was slow.

Another swallowed up Canary’s foot. More and more often, the stepstones conveniently avoided his path, staining his boot with a moist mix of dirt and rotting leaves below.

“Look, Canary, wanderers.” the captain pointed to a disheveled garden to the left. Only a low wooden fence, its posts almost all toppled and overtaken by weeds, remained of what was once a well-kept sanctuary of flowers. In their center, a trio of stone wanderers circled a yellow wildflower. They stood only the height of the flower itself, but their legs, made of pebbles and grass clumped together, naturally carried their bodies. Upon noticing Canary’s gaze, they paused their dance, but resumed just as quickly.

“That’s no surprise. This place was the site of a tragedy not long ago.” Canary tossed a pebble in the flower’s direction. Upon its landing nearby, one of the wanderers picked it up and placed it within its own body, again acknowledging Canary briefly before continuing.

Most of the people of Iralsk had been killed. Evacuations were difficult through a dense rainforest and the number of routes north and west of the city were few. The defense had been crushed, as the peacetime garrison found itself unprepared against the onslaught of overgrowths flooding from the southwest. It was difficult for Canary to imagine it. The city was peaceful now. Not even bones remained of most of the victims, only forgotten memories etched into what they left behind.

A quiet sound played ahead, a slight ping of glass against metal. “Canary! Kirill! Come here.” Maria’s voice was authoritative. “Survivors.”

—

Ceramic smashed against a hard floor, the grating sound ringing through my ears. It shook me out of my trance, suddenly it had occurred to me that I’d only been walking forward with Maria’s guidance. I was so engrossed in watching the movements of the key that before I realized it, my feet were wet with mud and my hands damp.

“Maria, I heard something.” I said, placing the key in a pouch.

“As did I.”

Among the collapsed piles of rubble, some formed piles of stone greater than others. Those had been the houses of elaborate construction, indicating the importance of the families that lived within. It was with passing thought that I realized the insignificance of a greater house if it only amounted to a larger pile of rubble as an enemy tore you to pieces and destroyed what remained of your fortune. However, this pile was different. From within, a sound of a smashed piece of ceramic, the potential for a living person to remain in this ghost of a city.

As Canary, Kirill, and Maria went to work, each stone parted further exposed what lay beneath. It was a wooden trapdoor. An underground cellar, seemingly untouched by the carnage above ground. Without hesitation, Kirill lifted the handle with all his might, but it stubbornly refused to budge. Kirill thought for a moment before wedging his shovel into the crack between the hinge and the door, stuffing the metal edge in until the door’s structure itself came apart.

Below was a miserable sight. A father and two daughters, their faces all shrunken from starvation, huddled in a corner. Empty barrels assaulted by a cloud of flies dominated the other. At the father’s feet, shattered shards of a bowl. The father moved his mouth in an attempt to speak, but no words came out. He simply watched us, wide eyed, as we descended the ladder into the cellar below.

“They’ve gone through all their food, and I imagine whatever water they have is wrought with bugs. Give them a bit of something and hope for the best.” the captain instructed.

“T-Thank you. Is it safe outside?” the father asked. He was dressed in a dull yellow overcoat and white undergarments.

“The overgrowths are gone. You can go outside, rebuild your life. Or go north and find a new one. Up to you. If you forage around you should be able to survive.” the captain reassured him. She handed him a pouch of something, and as the man opened it, his eyes glittered with happiness. Then they turned to fear. “Is it…still out there?”

“You don’t know? You came down here not knowing what razed Iralsk to ash?” He asked, wide-eyed again.

An otherworldly screech, as if a thousand disjointed piano strings were pulled all at the same time, sent my mind into a jumble. The sound echoed within my head, a hundred disharmonious notes all playing at the same time. It was followed by a boom, a massive boulder smashing into the ground at full force directly above our heads. The structure of the cellar creaked and groaned, and caked dust rained down into my hair.

“You’ve doomed us all! Fools! It killed the general, it killed…ah, begone! Leave us be!” He tackled the captain to the ground, pressing his hands forward at an attempt to grip the captain’s neck. She sent the sole of her boot into his ribcage, sending him flying backwards. His daughters watched, their eyes dead set on the captain.

“We’ve got no choice then. Maria, Anastasia, are you ready to go out there and fight?” the captain asked.

“My ice won’t form here. It’s a misty day with wanderers about.” Maria said.

“My ribbons are the same.” I answered. Our last encounter with wanderers had returned my horses into piles of wood, and I expected such a thing to happen again. But inside of my ribbons, the serpent stirred. It was daring me to try it. If only for a moment, weaving my ribbons into a weapon to fight a great enemy.

“Regardless, we must get out. And I would prefer to save these poor children before even greater suffering befalls them.”

“Consider it done.” Maria confidently rolled up her sleeves. I recalled how she spoke of her first battle with Matrie. It was won by Maria’s physical strength, her quickness. I doubted whether these skills could be used to defeat an even greater beast, but I trusted my instincts. Maria was not someone to lose a contest of strength.

“I will do what I can to help.” I gave the captain a nod. She climbed up the ladder to the exit, and the two of us did the same.

—

As the man had said, the beast staring us down with hot torrents of air shooting out of its nostrils was indeed a dragon. With porcelain-white scales and claws the size of a man, its size alone would be enough to crush our insignificant bodies. The exposed bones of its wings and claws were expected of a creature that had already died, but the thick white flesh of its head and rage-filled eyes suggested otherwise.

“That…is a stone dragon. I would not have expected to see one here.” Maria said.

“What do you know, Maria? Have you fought one? Some exciting training at the Academy?” the captain asked, with a spot of nervousness in her voice. Among the three of us, she had nothing to rely on but her own arms and legs. Any sane person would have hid in the cellar, but as our leader and superior officer, she took her responsibility to stay at the front seriously.

It didn’t wait for Maria to give a response before sweeping at the ground with its tail. A long, pointed thing plated with white scales, even grazing it would have shattered every bone in my body. To my surprise, my ribbons still held some tension, and I pushed off the ground in a nick of time. The captain wasn’t so fortunate. She ate the tip of the tail straight to the body, and while her arms absorbed much of the blow, the sheer force of the collision sent her onto her back. Her anguished expression at least showed her life had been spared.

Its piano-string roar again sent my head spinning. The dragon’s maw was a pale grey. Its throat was a pulsing cavern of flesh, wet with spit and fleshy bits from past meals. Maria already had her hands on her ears, and as I regained my composure, she sent a single flower petal into the mouth of the dragon. It shook its head and rushed at Maria, its massive body hurtling towards Maria at full speed. Seemingly unmoved, Maria slid gracefully to the side, but it was not enough. The dragon’s scales brushed against Maria, scraping against her flesh…doing nothing. She leapt behind the creature, taking advantage of its forward momentum.

“This is a learning experience for you, Anastasia. Which part of this creature would you like to send a blade?”

“Its…its eyes?”

“Good try, but not quite. I hate to do this with the captain unconscious, but perhaps that will help you focus. Look carefully at the stone dragon.”

I tried to scan along the dragon’s body while ignoring its menacing stare. Its arms were held close to its side, along with its wings. For a beast of destruction at such a scale, its pose seemed strangely defensive, as if it were protecting itself.

“Another round. I doubt it will fall for the same trick twice, so be prepared. This is your last chance, Anastasia.”

“Maria! Just tell me! Where do you want me to strike?”

“You need to know it for yourself or else it won’t work.”

I looked at it again. Of course, any creature would avoid exposing itself to unnecessary weaknesses. But everywhere I could find, armored scales protected that dragon’s hide, a thick plate of bone that I doubted my ribbons could pierce even in their strongest form. But, even its belly? The joints of its shoulders. It was an incomprehensible amount of protection. It was moving far too fast for the amount of bulk it held. A flash of inspiration illuminated my mind for an instant.

“I understand now, Maria.” I smiled at her. If I saw myself in a mirror at the moment, I’m sure I would have looked quite self-confident. I was however satisfied with the twinkle in Maria’s dull golden eyes.

“Prove it to me, Anastasia.”

The dragon rushed forward. Only with its whole body pointed directly at the two of us could I fully appreciate how large it was, and the incredible feat Maria had pulled off to circle it. As it opened its mouth, I fixated on a plate on its neck, a thick shining piece of porcelain bone. My ribbons formed a blade. They created an edge as fine as a blacksmith’s work. While even the smallest of creatures refused to answer my summons in the midst of the wanderers, the hardened ribbon edge held no such prejudice. I barely had to thrust with the sword of ribbons before it pierced the dragon’s armor like water, and buried itself within the dragon’s flesh.

The stone dragon recoiled in pain, and with a final horrible roar, flapped its wings, sending a shockwave of dust into my face. It was nowhere to be found when I opened my eyes.

“I was hoping you’d kill it, but this is also good.” Maria said. As she walked over to the captain and helped her to her feet, I called Maria over.

“How did you know?” I asked.

“Dragons are a blessed race. They command the elements, just like us.” Maria said. “Sometimes, that comes in the form of a breath that burns everyone to ash. Lucky for us, that command was nothing but an illusion, this time. Most of the dragon’s armor is a farce. Many foolish soldiers have been swallowed up trying to hack away at its mouth or eyes.”

“What…happened?” the captain opened her eyes. The scrapes on her body looked manageable, but the limpness of the arm opposite the shoulder Maria carried her from spelled trouble.

“Anastasia defeated the dragon, with her own wit.” Maria said.

“That’s great. Could you put me down? My shoulder is dislocated.”

“I will place it back in.”

“No, it’s quite alright. I can do it myself.” The captain said.

—

The misty morning had cleared. The man and his daughters chose to flee the city. Goodbyes were short. There was little to discuss, after all. We continued on our journey south. As we left the ruined city, the compass shook with more vigor. Our destination approached. The thick forests thinned, tree by tree, until we could soon walk among them with ease.

Farther from the city, the signs of civilization remained. Abandoned fields dotted the landscape, conquered by families of weeds and insects. Their cabins stood in similar disrepair, but at least they provided some shelter. No stone dragon roamed the landscape, no wanderers claiming the land as their own. It was a peaceful place.

We took shelter in one such abandoned cabin. Besides a crack in the roof, to which I paid no concern. It was a suitable place to rest my tired feet. I sat at a game board, an arrangement of squares covered in wooden tiles. Maria’s mind was entranced by the position before her from across the table. It was both subtle and dynamic; my dragons were locked in battle with Maria’s knights as my prince sought to slay the dragons eyeing my princess from across the board.

I made my move. My knights retreated from the front lines, realizing the danger facing their princess. To counterattack, her prince brought his sword down upon my western dragon, sending it off the game board for a time.

“You appear to be on the back foot, Anastasia.”

“Not yet.” My next move placed the dragon back on the board, two tiles and one to the left to where it had been before. And from there, it had a path straight to Maria’s princess. With no prince to guard it, her fate was sealed.

“A clever idea. But those knights can do little in the face of dragons.” Maria’s eastern dragon and the one with its wings spread in the north assaulted the knight’s fortification, and with no room left to run, I handed my princess to Maria. It was her victory.

Maria hated to lose. Defeat was humiliating, and I even understood some of her feelings when she lost. Neither of us had a real advantageI knew, but there was no path forward for either of us. Neither defeat nor victory for either side was an appropriate conclusion. In the end, I made a move, a losing one, to give the game an ending before either of us could consider abandoning it out of boredom.

“Hey, you two. Time to go to sleep. We waste time waiting for you to get up in the morning.” the captain called from the next room over. With Kirill and Canary offering to switch off on the watch, we were offered a full night of sleep if we wanted it.

“Understood, captain.” Maria stood up and prepared to place the pieces back into a compartment inside of their box.

“It’s another long day tomorrow. I suppose ten days from now, we will arrive at Aya’s gate.” I said to Maria. “I am excited to see it.”

“What, the gate? I am sure nothing will come of it. Scholars-what those within the Academy were called before their time with the empire-love to use complicated means for the simplest tasks. The Academy uses a column of air to move from floor to floor when I could just as easily take the stairs.”

“I would love to see this wind tunnel.” I said. The prospect of throwing myself into an empty well and feeling a blast of wind strong enough to send me flying upwards sent my heart skipping.

“When it flares out your dress and shows your undergarments to the whole world you will be thankful there are no men in the Academy.” Maria instinctively reached down and pressed on the fabric beneath her legs, her face turning red.

Before I could think of a response, the door flew open and Canary toppled over and fell on his face in the doorway.

“Trouble. A person in the distance.”

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The two of us rushed outside, followed by a captain who had changed into a set of blue fabric sleepwear and a tiny hat. I thought it was a little odd, but I supposed that Margaret’s Welcome stocked no shortage of interesting garments. She needed to find someplace to sport her new purchases. It was something of a mystery to me where she was finding the space to store such frivolities, but as I hadn’t had to shoulder the burdens of her things, it wasn’t a subject of concern.

Against the grey night sky on the horizon, what Canary said was correct. Someone, or something was there. Moving with a flat stride, the head barely remained at a fixed height as it approached. The darkness hid his figure to a great extent, without Canary’s suggestion I would not have identified such a figure.

“Maria, Anastasia…” the captain tapped on my shoulder. The moon above our heads was a deep crimson, and momentarily the shape of a slowly flying crow obscured it from view.

“All of you! Get back into the cabin!” Kirill yelled. His tone was fearful, afraid. “I have seen this before. Only suffering awaits you.”

“Come on, let’s get back inside. I’m sure he knows something we don’t.”

A drop of red rain touched the curious blue hat on the captain’s head, and it quickly began to smoke and bubble, eating into the fabric. No sooner did Maria open a large flower above our heads, sensing an impending attack. An outpouring of red fell from the sky, coating the ground in a deep red.

“Walk only on my ice, the blood rain is deadly.” Maria said.

—

The captain laid on the floor. She had been commanded to leave her hat outside, as by the time she’d brought it in, the blood-red stain had eaten a fist sized hole in its top. As she curled up and held her knees against her chest, the rest of us sat around the table. An oil lamp dimly lit the otherwise shadow-laden cabin in the midst of the night. Maria’s ice absorbed the rain above our heads, filling the crack and leaving the remaining rain pass harmlessly along the roof of the cabin.

“We cannot keep this up for long. That rain, it’s poison.” Maria said. “Past-emperor, you seem to know something. Share it with us.”

“This is not our first meeting.” Kirill pulled up his sleeve to reveal the bracelet of metal thorns, pulsing with red and black. “I’ve suffered the curse of the blood rain, which turns your flesh to blood until you are nothing but a pile of bones. Avoid contact with it. Even your ice should feel its effects to some degree.”

“Yes, it consumes my ice, and with it, my strength. Our time here is limited.”

“We could try retreating. We could escape it and flee.” I suggested. “I presume my ribbons will also be consumed?”

“Most likely.” Maria said. “Your ribbons are closer to you than my ice to me. Its effects on your body will be dire, should you touch the blood. Past emperor, you were cursed but I see no marks on your body. Would you explain why?”

“It wasn’t I that came into contact with the curse. My dogs were slain, one by one, killed before my eyes. Soon enough I too was blighted, but not before an advisor of mine halted the curse’s effects while also severing my connection to the dogs.”

“I am surprised. It’s not every day the emperor is a scholar, and a male. You’re a rarity.”

“I am aware. It’s fitting for a ruler to hold talents not enjoyed by his subjects.” Kirill said with a hint of satisfaction.

“That advisor, a doll, I presume. Where is she now? I suppose she would know a thing or two about getting us out of this mess.” Maria coughed. It was too dark to tell if my imagination was playing a trick, but I thought I saw a stain or two on the handkerchief she used to wipe her mouth. “We must think of something soon.”

“The knowledge escapes me. She was faithful, however. I trust that she still holds an allegiance to me, if she lives. The last I knew she was fighting the girl who currently hides away in the capital. Emily of the Cold Lightning. She boasted tremendous strength, but lacked confidence. I hope she has grown from her more recent battles.”

“We are trapped. I could go out and find the one responsible for the rain.” Canary suggested.

“The curse will not kill you, abyssal. It will consume you forever, and turn your body into a tomb of eternal pain. Are you prepared for such a fate?”

Canary swallowed. “I suppose not.”

A knock on the door. Within the sound of pouring blood rain, the sound of knuckles against wood stood out to my ears. The knock turned to a bang, fists pounding with all their might against the door. The windows lent us little sight to the intruder outside the door. The night had swallowed up the scenery outside. Darkness stretched endlessly outside our tiny cabin, we were but a single island within a sea of infinite void.

Of course, it was all an illusion. There was one thing we could see, and that was the streaks of red flowing down the sides of the cabin. The sight of a blood-covered head slamming itself against a window made me scream in terror. Flaps of skin had come loose, and bits of muscle could be seen in the hideous complexion, contorted into an eternal scream. Its palms pressed against the sides were similarly frightening, the curled, uncut fingernails wetly scratching against the glass. The thing’s mouth opened and closed, trying to say something, but not a single one of us dared to try and decipher what he said.

“I suppose that’s our enemy, huh.” The captain had sat up, her attention focused fully on the man. “Doesn’t this kind of thing take a lot of energy? He can’t keep it up forever, can he?”

“A useful insight. It will be a question of who can hold out longer, him or Maria. How do you feel, Maria?” I asked.

Maria supported herself with her arm, and the hand outstretched towards the sky wobbled and shook. Her chest moved up and down as she struggled to breathe. The blood was having an effect on her, whether her pride permitted her to admit it or not.

“Your bracelet. Can you give it to Maria?” the captain asked.

“If you want to cause all of our deaths.” Kirill replied. “Maria wears the bracelet and the curse eats my body away. Maria’s connection to ice will be severed, and she will no longer be able to protect us, and we will all be cursed.”

“Damn! Is there no way out of this?” the captain yelled in frustration. We were trapped, like a rat in a hole. We could not leave; no one knew what our attacker had in store for us if we stepped foot outside the cabin, even under Maria’s protection.

—

To Lord Exia, Governor and Protector of Margaret’s Welcome,

The Blood Sorcerer Oum approaches the southern provinces. At this instant, he may be headed there. The purpose of this letter is twofold. First, I will request your aid in prevention of harm to his High Excellency. The blood sorcerer is a bane upon the lives of all who believe in the good. Second, I will provide all the information I have regarding the sorcerer.

We are aware of your support for the rightful heir to the Sveshen Empire. We acknowledge your decision to avoid excessive intrusion into our sovereign territory. The death of his High Excellency would be disastrous to both of our ends, as your efforts would be for naught and the world would be at a loss for a rightful ruler. For this reason, we would humbly request your aid in preventing the blood sorcerer’s advance.

Upon examination of the blood sorcerer himself, he had stated that his death was impossible. This was no exaggeration. His blood magics prevent any permanent destruction of his body. Oum, the man, died long ago. His curses ate away at his body and mind, and his flesh is but an empty shell. What is known as the blood sorcerer today is nothing more than a boiling mass of curses driven forward by hunger and lust. We hope this information will be of use to you.

With reverence to Margaret’s Welcome,

The seventy-eighth Pristine, Lady of the Academy,

Emily Wehrhardt

Exia made haste in his pursuit of the party he’d sent off just two weeks prior. It was a blessing that the godsteeds had been left at the edge of Iralsk; with their travel on foot he stood a chance of catching up to them. As the wind rushed past the scales of his face and the scenery flew past his eyes, he considered how long it had been since he last had the chance to run at full speed.

Sarassin were a curious race of beings from the point of view of felines and humans. Their reptilian appearance limited their association with other intelligent races. One of these peculiar traits was their ability to run. An adult sarassin had no problems keeping up with a horse in full gallop. Even as the hours wore on, their stamina had a robustness that kept them from falling behind.

Before realizing his world-cutting power and entrenching himself as a ruling figure in the Great Tree, Exia was a scout for the sarassin army in fending off the impending Sveshen expansion. Small for his size and colored a fiery red-orange, his speed stood out among his peers. His feats of crossing the southern desert in a mere nine days and his traversal of an entire battlefield in a few short minutes had earned him the name “Shooting-Star Exia”. It was a fitting name for a man who appeared as a streak of fire when running at full speed. It was a pity to him that as the conflict died out he’d lost his reason to run.

The setting sun was a guide to Exia. He was hoping he could clear the rainforests of Iralsk by nightfall; every passing moment heightened the risk to his party of interest. His peacetime scouts had informed him of the curiosities of the uprising almost two years prior. It seemed futile from the beginning. The defiant strongholds of the coast existed only to sacrifice lives to fuel the pride of the Sveshen Emperor. The periodic disintegration of parts of the Sveshen army served to intensify the losses felt by either side and drive the conflict into a bloody stalemate.

Exia had already suspected Oum as some aimless manifestation of chaos. The letter he received served to confirm the idea. He was a beast, a bundle of twisted emotions masquerading as a man. Such an existence would be best snuffed out whenever possible. Exia didn’t view himself as a particularly justice-bound governor. He was a pragmatist, leading a life in response to his needs and the needs of the citizens he cared for. He was an opponent of chaos, of disorder, of unjustified suffering. His fighter’s spirit also flared with life at the opportunity to do battle with an opponent of such caliber, but his sense of danger dampened that particular impulse.

The route Anastasia’s party had taken was fairly obvious. Their cleared trail in and out of Iralsk was clear, and as Exia picked up on that he would not lose their scent.

The crimson moon in the midst of the night struck Exia as peculiar. A blood moon in itself was rare, but the murder of crows circling in the sky was uncharacteristic of such birds. He was close. A cabin was caught in the epicenter with a faint light creeping through the cracks.

Exia was careful to be slow with his approach. His thick hide was insufficient to protect against the curse of blood. Oum himself was also unapproachable. The same tactic he had attempted against Anastasia, to isolate her within a prison of shattered space, would also be useless against a being with no real body. He could simply die from within the shattered space and reappear elsewhere. And so, upon a few moments of consideration, Exia began to sever the blood rain’s connection from the world.

—

Oum himself was prowling along the edges of the cabin, looking inside. He could sense Maria’s desperation, her quickly weakening body. There was nothing left to do but to patiently await her body’s decay, after which he could casually storm into the cabin and devour everyone else inside. Nothing would give him greater pleasure. Isa’s orders were merely a frivolity, an excuse to do what he would have naturally done.

He recoiled in surprise as the soothing red rain running down his face paused momentarily. Then it stopped. The dryness left behind was agonizing. An uncontrollable anger overtook him as he saw the cracked-glass lines running along the sky. The sarassin stood in the distance, weaving a prison from which his rain would never escape.

“You!” Oum rushed at the one who looked to interrupt his feast. Bloody fingers erupted from the ground, but as they sought to sink themselves into the man it was clear that they stood on opposite sides of a barrier of shattered glass. Exia himself was separated into his own world, and it would take no less than Anastasia’s thousand-tailed serpent to build a bridge into it. His presence before Oum was only a taunt, a show of certain victory, and a true exhibition of the superiority of his craft.

“I will not forget this, sarassin.” Oum spat. With a final shudder, Oum sunk into the ground and vanished.

—

Maria’s nearly unconscious body was laid gently on the bed. Blood trickled from her mouth and below her fingernails. Exia turned her body onto its side to avoid blocking her airways.

“I believe it is correct to say she’s been blighted. Her condition is not lost, but we will need to act hastily. I can stave off the decay of her body, but not her ice. Hear me, Maria. Do not use your ice again. The curse will crawl into your heart and kill you.”

Maria’s throat ejected a mouthful of bloody fluid. “Never. I cannot…protect Anastasia then.”

“Then kill the blood sorcerer. Excise the blight from your soul. You too, emperor. If he dies no longer will you need to hide behind the protection of your companions.” Exia motioned to Kirill.

“I don’t need any reminders, lizard.” the emperor said. “Just begin her treatment. Losing a valuable soldier here would be troubling.”

“Acknowledging a companion as valuable, when not long ago you refused to even speak to her. Your heart has grown, emperor. No longer are you caught in the trappings of your own arrogance.” Exia’s smile was not easily recognizable by humans, but it was clear by the way he spoke. Exia gripped Maria’s shoulder with one hand and dug a claw into a space below her collarbone. From there, he closed his eyes. Maria gasped, as if her lungs were filling with a large amount of air, and the viscous sound of congealed blood in her throat grew faint. Her pained expression relaxed, and with a final nod to me, she closed her eyes. The gentle rise and fall of her chest as she slept was a brief respite from the events of the day.

I had remained quite frozen through this affair. Seeing Maria in such a state caused a sinking feeling within my heart, and even with the power of the serpent, I did not have the power to fight the curse of the blood rain. Maria’s protection had allowed me to avoid the fate that befell her. My ribbons, wound tightly around my arms and legs, were little more than a tasteless fashion statement in the face of her sickness. There was one of my ribbons that Maria had kept on her person. It was tied in the braids of her hair, and from that I could feel the warmth of her body even when we were separated. If I concentrated, I could even hear her heartbeat. It was weak but steady, and with every moment, it beat with more vigor than before.

—

Oum’s failure reached Isa’s ears no later than the following morning. Emily had quite gleefully interrupted Isa’s morning to inform her of the news.

“Friedrich, some milk and something to eat.” The old man shuffled away at Isa’s order and returned with a plate of sugar-covered pastries. “Mage woman, why have you told me this? You seem quite happy at the failure of a supposed ally.”

“I mean no harm. I simply wanted to inform you of the state of affairs.” Emily said. She saw little reason to address Isa respectfully, as Isa hadn’t demanded it.

“No matter. The sorcerer should return soon. That is, if he does not disappear forever. It would be best for him to do so, if he knows what awaits him here.”

“Isa, what do you have planned?”

“Wait and see, mage-woman. You might find it quite fascinating. When you killed my assassin in the city of glass, I was upset. Anyone should be upon seeing the death of a subordinate. But it was also inspiring.” Isa said. A white flame sprouted from her hand, of the same color as the crowd on her head. “To forgo the body and target the soul, destroying a being regardless of their physical nature. I sense his approach. Be ready, mage-woman.”

Akari stood silently far behind the two. She wasn’t to do anything else, but her presence around the palace was permitted. Echen preferred to be close to Isa when possible, inexplicably. The rogue spirit of Aya’s automaton had no more master to serve, but Isa was a suitable substitute for what remained of his heart. Those were his thoughts on the matter when he spoke of her.

Oum reappeared behind the same pillar. Perhaps he was uncomfortable with Isa’s gaze as he made his entrance. His expression was pained and angry, unlike his typical self. Evidence of his failure was written all over his slouching stride and inability to look Isa in the eye.

“I have failed…Failed!” Oum screamed. The pool of blood surrounding his footsteps expanded, almost swallowing up the entire throne room. Isa and Emily stood at the edge of it, observing the mad sorcerer’s rage from a distance.

“And you came with full knowledge of the consequences of such failure. Step forward, Oum.”

He took a step forward. White flame erupted from his feet, consuming his body until he appeared as a pyre in the center of the throne room. The pool of blood writhed and squirmed, reacting to the agony of its master.

Oum said nothing. Only when Isa clutched at her chest and winced in pain, did a quiet laugh emanate from the burning pyre. “Ah, the soul-flame. A true beauty. Quite a sight! But you have forgotten something, my precious queen. As you touch my soul, I touch yours. The last to attempt this trick on me was no other than you, long ago. Back when I was still a weakling of flesh and bone.”

Isa said nothing. She increased the intensity of the flame, until it consumed the entire throne room. Nothing was visible but a wall of white fire, with the sorcerer at its center.

“Respect for authority has never been your strong suit. Burn, until there is nothing left. Much has changed in a hundred years, and you will not survive this time.” Isa said.

“Oh, but I will. A thousand curses must be destroyed before I am finished. And yet, what lies within your heart? Nothing but the frail fragments of a broken girl. In a test of tenacity, do you truly believe you can emerge standing?”

Isa fell to her knees. The flame showed no signs of stopping, but the drops of crimson coming from Isa’s nose and mouth fell to the ground and stained the ground red.

Echen could bear it no more. In a rush, Akari felt the side of her body regain full sensation, free of the numbness she felt with Echen’s control. He leapt from her body, leaving so suddenly she stumbled and fell backwards. He dove into Isa’s body, reaching through every artery and vein, taking the burden of Oum’s curse upon himself.

“Knight, stop! I can shoulder this much. I am not so weak.” Isa ordered.

“My friend, I could never allow that.” Echen said in a weakened voice. He too, was a curse. A rogue spirit without a home, he simply wandered the void until Isa found herself beside him. Only with her at his side had his existence been bearable. It held some meaning, long after his creator had cast him aside. Echen’s embrace upon Isa’s tiny body was warm. His hands were firm, and for a moment even his face, fair and innocent, was revealed to Isa’s eyes. He melted away, his existence unable to withstand Oum’s curse any longer. But that was enough. Isa was freed from the blood.

“Isa, I will offer my aid. Just this once.” Emily said. Streaks of gold bloomed among Isa’s ball of white, in a violent torrent of fury. One by one, Oum’s curses burned away, and at last the room was silent. The charred remains of a man, his spine curved and twisted from years of abuse, lay in the center of the throne room.

“Restless spirits, find peace and return from which you came. This is the land of the living.” Isa sent a final message to the sorcerer, who was no more.

—

Isa had changed out of her sheet-like white dress. The approaching fall in the northern capital sent shivers up her spine in the mornings. She chose a lace-laden white gown with gold frills, and her crown had been replaced by a flat cap with a veil to cover the back of her head. If it had been anyone else, Emily would have mistaken this girl for a young noble, or perhaps the daughter of a wealthy traveler. Instead, she was finally wearing something more befitting of a ruler, or at least one of a station as high as hers.

“Sit, Emily. I’ve called you by your name, so please accept my invitation.” Before Isa was a tea set; each cup’s handle was engraved with a handle lined in gold trim. Emily eyed Isa with suspicion before reluctantly sitting down across from her. Behind a wall of dolls acting as Isa’s escort was a normally busy section of the capital’s market district. The scene felt somewhat artificial to Emily, who would have appreciated the view if not for the line of people blocking it. “It has been brought to my attention that you seek to escape.”

“Tch.” Emily gritted her teeth. Her hand cycled from ice to fire, then to a crackle of blue electricity.

“Put away your weapons. I’ve not come here to fight.”

“How did you know?” Emily asked.

“It did not even warrant consideration. Echen is dead. Nothing binds you to me any longer. Leave if you want.” Isa’s expression was downcast. The veil also served to hide her melancholic expression, but it was clear by the slow drawl of her words that even speaking at this moment was painful for Isa.

“What of your dreams? Of your ideals? Does the death of your friend simply erase all of those?” Emily shouted, knocking her teacup to the floor. The cup burst into fragments upon contact with the hard ground. “Do you not understand…the weight you must bear? You destroyed everything…my home, my people, only to throw it aside for nothing?”

“If you desire to take my head in revenge, do it quickly. My guards will not take kindly to such a thing.”

A shard of glass extended from below Emily’s sleeve. She gripped it with such force it dug into her palm, and droplets of blood fell to the ground. But she did not raise her arm to strike down the defeated Isa. “When you set fire to St. Keres and killed everyone within it, did you feel nothing?”

“Such a thing cannot be undone. Make your decision, Emily. Will you strike me down, or will you let me live? I will allow the choice to fall to you.” Isa took a sip from her still-pristine cup.

In Emily’s eyes, Isa was a monster. She had killed thousands without an ounce of remorse, caused untold suffering upon thousands more, and had shown no hesitation in destroying anything in her path for the sake of her goal. Nothing brought more rage to pump through Emily’s heart than the sight of Isa sitting on the throne, without a care in the world. And yet, now, the defeated Isa looked more like a little girl than ever. All the lives she’d taken were now a part of her. If she fell, the dead would surely cry out in their graves.

“Tell me about this Echen.” Emily said.

There was a spark in Isa’s eye. The thought of reminiscing over the past brought some life into her words. “Prepare yourself. It is a lengthy tale.”

—

Being cast into the void was a death sentence of the worst order. As the exhausted Isa traversed the dusk-laden forest, it was clear that it had no end. Void-dwellers, creatures made of haphazard connections of flesh and bone, lurked among the shadows. The feeding orifices, disjointedly located all over their bodies, salivated at the sight of fresh food, yet unblemished by the void. Isa dispatched one after another, her stamina soon failing. She dashed from tree to tree, careful to minimize her time on the ground, but the creatures quickly climbed up their trunks in an effort to pursue their prey. Isa’s then-golden flame and hair was a beacon, signaling to all the void-dwellers that delectable prey was on the loose.

After several long hours of fighting, the fatigue had pushed Isa to the limit. It did not take the void-dweller’s teeth to sink themselves into Isa’s flesh to rob her of her flames. The void itself consumed it. “This is the end.” she thought to herself. Perhaps she would have said it out loud, but her jaw was broken and she could not move her mouth. The void-dwellers closed in, cautiously approaching the defenseless Isa, their slime-covered tentacles slithering along the ground.

It was Echen’s tempered steel fists which beat them back. He took Isa to a shelter, where they began their lives together. Echen was a creation of Aya’s, built to fight the Sveshen army. After going berserk and disobeying Aya’s orders to avoid collateral damage, he was banished into the void star shortly before Isa was. The shelter was a simple cave, blocked off by a pile of wooden logs. Echen appeared as a suit of armor, a saving grace provided to him by his former master.

“That Aya never listened to me when I told her to be careful around making something she couldn’t control.” Isa said. The swelling in her jaw had abated, and with a bit of effort, she could speak full sentences. The two huddled in the back corner of the cave. Isa kindled a small fire, a modest pile of wood which warmed her freezing bones.

“I am grateful. The master gives, and the master takes away. The master has provided me with a companion, even. What could I be wanting?” Echen asked.

“I am unsure she sent me here to be your friend, but I suppose that’s the end that came to pass. I am Isa, of the Golden Flame.” Isa said confidently. Her strength returned rapidly, and after a short rest, she had returned to her normal, energetic self.

“Echen…of the Armor. I have little to say.”

“Well, because you are clad in armor, so I will call you Knight. Will you accept such a title?”

“With pleasure. A strong one, are you? To issue commands at first sight.”

“You flatter me. It’s decided then. Knight, we will survive in this place, and one day, may we find an escape to this prison.”

The days after that blurred into one large tapestry of memories, of the two discovering a river, of the battles against ever greater void monsters, and of searching for a way to leave the void star. Their discussions often meandered around what each of them would do once they escaped. Soon Isa found the ink-like properties of her food dying her hair black. It was largely the carcasses of the void dwellers, as the bark of the trees did not provide much nutrition. Her eyes befell the same fate. One day, when she looked at her reflection in the water, she was looking at a person completely different from herself. Living in the void also slowly robbed her of her age, and over time, she felt as if she was growing just a little younger each day.

She and Echen often discussed what they were to do when they escaped. They would retake the world from their old enemies and establish an order better than the empire that robbed them of their nation. They would bring about a world that Aya would have wanted, a peaceful paradise, rich with the mysteries of magic. Such was the plan the two had in mind.

Many years later, an escape was found. A barrier so close to the real world, separated only by a one-way gate. Isa and Echen eagerly awaited a visitor, and after years of waiting patiently, a hand thrust its way through a crack and forced open the gate. This released the horrors of the void into the world. It also gave the two a path to escape.

—

“So, that is the story of how I met Echen. My one and only friend, a man who I deeply admire.” Isa concluded her story. It left questions to be answered, but Emily was at least satisfied with what she had heard. “Losing him taught me one thing. There is nothing in this world for me. Even if I kill that Sveshen heir, there will be no return to the things I love. There will be no revival of the ones I cherish. What should a wretched, lost soul like I do?”

“You’ve changed, Isa.” Emily said.

“Answer my question. It troubles me.”

Emily thought for a moment. Before her was a girl gripped by an uncompromising solitude, someone whose companions were lost to time and to fate. Isa’s conclusion was correct. Her revenge had no goal lying beyond it. Killing one more man would do nothing to quell her loneliness, nor would it undo the problems of the past. Even with the power to raze whole cities in an instant, Isa was powerless. She was at the mercy of things beyond her control. “Don’t lose your way. Build the world of your dreams, what those before you failed to do. In my time, Aya was a living legend, but in the end was defeated by her own compassion. Giving up now would be a desecration of everyone you’ve killed so far. Those without blood on their hands can afford to lack ambition, to accomplish nothing. You have no such freedom.”

“And, will such a thing sate my loneliness.?”

“I will be at your side. Any less would be a failure of my duty.”

“So, you will betray those you have sworn yourself to? I find it hard to trust one who would switch sides so easily.” Isa said. She was not shocked by Emily’s change of heart, as when they had first met, Isa had her sights on this goal.

“I am no one’s ally, only a Lady of the great glass tower. I will serve you as long as we fight for the same cause.”

—

We arrived at Aya’s gate. The contents of a river relentlessly poured down from the top of a cliff. Clouds shrouded the top of it, but if I stared for a long time, sometimes the summit of the smoky black rock face peered down from above the heavens. The trees below offered ample shelter, and compared to the forests of Iralsk, they left room between them for a group of prospective explorers to settle between them.

On the day of our arrival, we made haste in confronting the object of our quest. Specks of water coming off the waterfall shielding the gate pelted the back of my head as I surveyed the endless stone pillars. Aya’s gate was a fickle thing. Already run full of cracks from its first shattering, it still accepted our key as it flew from my hands into the abyss contained within the stone. We waited. Day over day, the cracks grew wider. The forces holding Aya’s stone pillars together weakened, and the force of her resolve in producing this creation grew faint. The five of us settled nearby, eagerly awaiting the day of the gate’s collapse.

Maria and Kirill, freed from the blood curse, lacked the power they had so enjoyed in the past. It was consumed, never to be returned to them. But, as a section of destroyed flesh mends itself with time, so too would their magic. Maria spent the mornings breathing frosty mist into the grass outside of her tent. After a month, the first bloom of a frozen rose sprouted from the soil. Kirill cradled a nondescript ball of life in his arms whenever I saw him. It was black and featureless, but one day it had been replaced by a pup, with hair and eyes as black as their master. With the rebirth of his first creation, he cast the bracelet given to him into the pool lying below the waterfall.

One day, as I was cleaning some fabrics in the pool of water at the base of the waterfall, I was approached by the captain. She waved to me.

“I suppose this is goodbye.” The captain said, Canary following closely behind her. Her old soldier’s uniform had been long cast aside, and no longer was there anything remaining of her connection with the Sveshen empire. “I’ve got places to be! A life to live. Anyhow, I don’t believe I will be of any use to you all.” she said,with a hint of pain in her words. “One final battle, and you’ll find yourself in my shoes. Do your best.”

I remained standing at the water’s edge, speechless. It was true. She was not someone blessed with strength. The most she could hope for was to accompany someone who was. But I could not bear to see her leave. She had watched over Maria and I, and I longed to see her see us through to the end. It startled me that she would leave so abruptly.

“Did Canary put you up to this?” I asked.

“He didn’t. I wanted to wait until Maria recovered, but it’s been a long time. Unlike you all, there is no future for me in this country any longer. It is the same as Canary.”

“We will find you a post, if you desire. I am the emperor. There is nothing my subjects will not provide if I will it. You’ve aided us well, and will be recognized as such.” Kirill appeared from behind the trees.

“And what good would that be? A life is something to be built, not given. But I suppose that is not something a person of your birthright would understand.” Canary rebutted.

“It is true.” Kirill responded softly. His hardened expression had grown soft, and I fancied to think that maybe their departure saddened him. “It is your choice.”

“Well then, good seeing you.” the captain waved goodbye and turned north.

“Wait! Where are you going?” I called out to her.

“Home. To the Seral Plateau. I am sure my parents have been dying to hear from me. Oh, and, your High Excellency?”

“What is it?” Kirill asked.

“Would you allow us to live in peace, if you believe us deserving?”

“I will make sure no trouble comes to you.”

“I appreciate it. Goodbye then, I wish you the best. Feel free to visit our humble village anytime. We’re always happy to see a traveler visit the hot springs.”

With those final words, the captain was gone. With a pack slung over her shoulder, her figure grew smaller among the trees until she merged into the darkness of the forest. Canary followed her, saying nothing.

—

“I see someone.” Isa said. “Come here, Emily, swordswoman. Have we not seen those girls before?” She peered down at the bottom of the waterfall from the very top. From there, the people at the bottom were nothing more than moving specks of color. And yet they made her uneasy.

“That’s right. The man of the bloodline who’s tormented you so, he is the one clad in black.” Emily said.

“He is.”

“Would you still have his life?” Emily asked.

“Not if he would relinquish his post and abandon his quest to close the rift. The threat to man has been dealt with. The overgrowths are no more. I have no desire to see more bloodshed. I would spare his life. What do you think, Emily?”

“I know one of those girls. She was an impressive doll, the ninety-ninth Pristine. She will be no easy opponent.” Emily grimaced. When Matrie was killed, she suspected it to be the work of another one of her pupils. For such a suspicion to be confirmed caused her heart to constrict painfully, and the thought of being the one to avenge her dead student’s death clouded her mind with darkness.

“I will ask you the same question. Are you ready to take her life?” Isa asked.

Emily was silent. The three of them looked over the forested expanse below. The answer could be found only in the shattered star lurking beneath the waterfall.