The very first thing, the absolute first thing we were taught as mages was that magic was in all things, all around us.

Magic was in the earth, in the water, in the air, everywhere. We breathed it in, breathed it out, baked it into pies, chopped it down for firewood, smelted it into armor…you name it, magic was there. When we mages used magic, we drew upon the raw elemental forces that surrounded us to give shape to a power we barely understood, to make it do our will. But one thing that we were also taught was that we could use existing power to not only fuel our magic, but enhance it to a degree that no mere human could conjure on his or her own.

Further research eventually led to the discovery of spirits. Even further inquiry into the matter led to the development of incantations, which allowed man to attain immeasurable power by communing with the spirit world. This allowed magic to branch into various forms, from basic attack magic to healing to more advanced subjects like necromancy and puppetry. But as more and more branches opened up, more mages left the fold and left the research of standard elemental attack magic behind, believing it to be a simple field with no need of refinement.

Even as a child, I showed no proficiency in any field of magic other than elemental magic. I couldn’t heal anyone beyond the simplest of wounds or ailments, and my attempts at controlling golems or puppets failed abysmally. I couldn’t manipulate the dreams of sleeping people, or hold a conversation with a ghost or shade that lasted more than a minute. But when it came to manipulating the five elements, I was unparalleled.

Old Farnus always joked that I would get myself killed someday. Now, holding his staff, the only thing I had to remember him by, I reflected on the truth in that statement. I now had the power that I didn’t have back then. I didn’t have the courage, the gumption or the sheer disregard for my personal safety to do it back then.

I did now, and that was all that mattered.

I reflected on my life. It had been short. It had been traumatic. It had been…eventful, to say the least. But it had also been very unfulfilling. I reflected bitterly that I had so much left to do, that I would never get to do so. I’d never know a mother’s loving embrace or a father’s reassuring shoulder. I’d never know what it would be like to amount to something, to achieve something great. To be respected by my peers, or even by my enemies.

Hell. I’d never even know what it was like to kiss a girl.

But my life could at least have some meaning. I’d finally, at least I’d hoped, made peace with myself. I had earned Alverd’s forgiveness. I had earned Alicia’s respect. I’d resolved myself to give my life for a greater cause. It wasn’t about glory, or being remembered, or even about revenge anymore.

I just wanted them to live.

Enough doubt and delay. The longer I dwelled upon it, the more I started to think it was a bad idea. It was a bad idea, of course, but I had to go through with it. I sighed, and pushed myself up. With a great deal of exertion, I stood up and staggered past a stunned Alverd and Alicia. Eliza was still moving forward. I looked ahead, and steeled myself, fighting past the pain in my stomach. With only a slight hesitation, I let my staff fall from my right hand. After a moment, I let my blood-soaked left hand dangle by my side.

What I was about to do had never been attempted, and for good reason. Not even the oldest of mages, with their years of experience and their penchants for experimentation, would have even dared to attempt what I was about to try. There was a good chance I would die before I would even get past the initial stage, much less the part where I could actually do some good. But again, I couldn’t worry about that now.

As Eliza began to charge, I listened to the untamed wind swirling around us, the screaming of a primal force. Such power was meant to be free, uncaged, able to flow like a mighty stream up here in the heights of the arena. I whispered to it, seeking its trust, calling out to it to lend its aid to a humble son of man. The wind hesitated, then rushed to me, heeding my call.

At that moment, I opened my mind to the presence of the spirits around me. This was the dangerous part. While the incantation was the equivalent of a single beacon, the method I was using now was tantamount to lighting dozens of bonfires. I was inviting any spirit within range, regardless of intent or alignment, to share its power with me, through me, to have some impact on my world. Malevolent spirits could just as easily use me as any other in this state, and there was no guarantee that they would quietly return from whence they came after the deed was done.

I anticipated maybe a dozen or so, but instead I was bombarded by the auras of nearly a hundred ambient spirits. Unlike any of the spirits I had seen, though, they were distorted, warped by some unseen force. I called to each of them, beseeching them for their aid, and to my surprise, nearly all of them answered.

Images flooded my head. Centuries upon centuries of barbaric, ritualistic fratricide had taken place in the arena, and the spirits here had borne silent witness to all of it. Through every Succession, they had been slowly tainted by the unmitigated evil perpetrated within the walls of the Castle of Brimstone. More than anything, these spirits sought a release, an end to the cycle they had had no power to end themselves. I whispered a promise to them, and they all flocked to me, calling their brethren to aid me.

Spirit after spirit lent me power. With each spirit, I could feel a rushing sensation, as though the blood in my veins had been set ablaze. It was not a wholly painful experience, but it was unpleasant, as though I would burst at any moment. Yet more and more power swelled into me, each spirit crying out for an end. I could feel their thoughts as they whispered to each other. They summoned their brothers and sisters to me, a mage; at last, they had a conduit through which to express their rage.

Each spirit had a story. They didn’t need to tell me in words. As each lent me its power, I could feel the event that had anchored it to this place. Each one was different, but the theme was the same. They’d been lured here, drawn by the strong emotions of hope and anticipation. But the distortions carved upon the fabric of reality over the Arena were centuries old. Like a giant rabbit trap, it had lured the spirits in and locked shut behind them. Only I, a mage, could open the door for them, to let them leave this supernatural cage.

I could feel their pain as if it were my own. Six hundred years of brothers and sisters murdering each other in this bloodstained place, their lives and ambitions cut short by the blades of their kin. The cheering of the oppressed as they watched their oppressors fall. Each king and queen regarding their fallen children with disgust for not being strong enough. The spirits howled their agony in an unearthly chorus of not-voices that threatened to tear my sanity to shreds.

My feet slowly lifted off the ground as the wind infused me with its power. My hands rose, feeling lighter than air, and I could sense the currents winding over my outstretched arms, gathering at the focal point suspended in front of my chest. I closed my eyes and allowed the wind to wash over me, as gentle as an autumn breeze, to become a raging tempest in the growing orb of power still manifesting in front of me. The power began to flow out from my body and into the focal point. I could feel the magic in my body being drained, every last drop, and push its way out of the wound and into the glowing ball of magic. I wasn’t gonna take any chances. If even one soldier was left standing after this, if Marcus or Eliza remained, then it was all for naught. I’d put every fiber of my being, every ounce of power the spirits could offer me, into saving Alverd and Alicia.

I opened my eyes. Eliza had stopped dead in her tracks, aghast at what she was seeing. Marcus and his escorts were still headed straight toward us, and I could see him seize a lance from one of them, winging his way toward me with murder written across his face. Again I could see the terror in Eliza’s eyes, her mind racing to decide whether her vengeance was worth facing her fear.

This was it. Staff or no staff, there was no way my body would survive the strain of channeling so many spirits. But I needed more power. I had to take them all out. I screamed to the spirits mentally for the power I needed, and they became wary; the spell began to falter, and the spirits glared at me with accusatory eyes shifting like fog. They whispered in their silent voices, echoing in my head; I was no different than those I sought to destroy.

You are no better. One voice, then two, then a dozen, then more. All of them coming together in eerie unison, clear as a bell despite the wind whipping around me. You desire death, you desire killing. Your anger drives you. Your anger fuels you. You are no better. The voices started to blend together, drowning out rational thought as it built to a crescendo in my head.

Just like them. You are just like them. A mortal child with nothing but hate in his heart.

Revenge doesn’t factor into this, I told them. It’s for Alverd and Alicia. There isn’t anything I can do for the dead. The dead are gone. Avenging the dead was for the benefit of the living only. I knew this, now. But if I could save a life that was worth living? It would validate my meaningless existence. It would make my sacrifice worthwhile. Alverd was my friend. I was willing to lay it all on the line for him. And I had come to see that Alicia was a good person. I felt good knowing that my life would buy a future for the two of them, however long it would last.

Closing my eyes, I recalled images from my past. The spirits peered into my mind. They saw my memories: the spiteful boy who’d cursed the world, my decade of happiness with Alverd and Laura, the joy of learning magic from a firm yet fair mentor, the night of the invasion, broken spires and bleeding bodies. They saw me screaming over Laura’s body as I tried to delay the inevitable.

I do have hate. I am guided by anger. I can be a foolish, selfish, arrogant boy. But I don’t have to let that be who I am now. Let me do the right thing. Help me do the right thing. I pleaded with the spirits. I needed them. Do what you want with me. But don’t punish my friends for my failings.

My words struck a chord with the spirits. They saw the resolve, the desire to save my friends, and they surged back. The spirits fed me their power once more, and the spell stabilized and began growing again.

I think I heard Alverd’s voice at that point. It was impossible to make out, since I could barely hear anything over the ruckus that was going on. He was probably trying to tell me to stop before I killed myself. At this point, it was irreversible. Even if half the spirits I was channeling backed out, I still had enough power to burn myself out dozens of times over. Even with my eyes closed, I could see him plain as day, his aura shining amongst the shifting wind currents like a lighthouse. A soul, blazing like a sun, shone next to him. I let a content smile spread out across my face. Even surrounded by spirits who had no tangible presence in our world, I could recognize my friend for what he was. Like ghosts, they tried to reach out to me, but when they saw that there was no chance, I saw Alverd push Alicia to the ground and cover her with his body. He knew what was coming.

Marcus’s dragon and escorts finally came into range. They hovered just over the edge of the railing, and he finally realized exactly what was happening. I could feel the black, sickly aura, like dripping tar, of the First Prince as he tried to take in what was going on. He recovered quickly, however, and charged forward with his spear raised. I lifted my left hand, palm open, and in the firmest voice I could manage, spoke the last words I would ever speak.

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“Oh, damned souls who walk the earth eternal, scream thy anguish that the living may know thy torment. Fill the air with thy lamentations even as you drag the guilty with thee to the grave. Let the wind carry your sorrow to the four corners of the earth. Howl for me now! Bring the gale, the zephyr, the typhoon! Bring the four winds in all their splendor! Howl for me now!”

The wind surged out of me and toward all of my enemies in a visible wave of energy. The blast pooled at Eliza’s feet, lifting her off her feet and tossing her into the railing on the edge of the seating area with brutal force. Eliza stabbed her rapier in the ground, trying desperately to avoid being sucked into the air. I could see her screaming in exertion; at some point she even began clawing at the ground with her armored hand.

Marcus wasn’t so fortunate. The sheer force of the wind at that range not only tore him from his saddle, but buffeted him back with near bone-breaking momentum. His two escorts also suffered the same fate; they were knocked from their mounts. But the wind didn’t stop there. It tore at the dragons, spinning them like tops. The gale-force winds ripped their delicate wings, and they screeched in anguish, loud enough for me to hear even over the unholy din I had unleashed.

The spell carried all of them over the edge of the railing and the entire group fell, still screaming, into the arena below. The last thing I saw was Marcus screaming as his face disappeared from sight. At seven stories, it would mean certain death for him. But somehow, Eliza had managed to remain rooted to the spot, her rapier dug into the ground, gasping for breath. The energy didn’t stop there; it swept up into the air past where the dragons were still fighting in the sky. The clear sky darkened immediately, and then lightning tore across the blackened clouds. The clouds swirled forebodingly.

I should have been dead. Instead, as each spirit withdrew its power from me, one by one, each one ebbing away back into the shadowy other world they called home, I was filled with an overwhelming sense of warmth; it was as though they were expressing their thanks for helping them to undo the wrongs committed in this place. I could sense joy and relief as they crossed back into the spirit world. But I didn’t understand why I was still alive. As the last of the spirits left me, I felt my feet touch back to the ground, and immediately fell to my knees. I felt so utterly empty, as though my soul had vacated its earthly vessel.

As I knelt there, on what surely had to be the paper-thin boundary between life and death, I swore I saw something. A blurred figure materialized in front of me. It looked like it had draped itself over me, like a curtain. Though the shape was too blurry and obscure to fully perceive, it appeared to be almost human shaped, with strands of long hair and smooth clothes. The figure wrapped its arms around my neck, and I could have sworn that it pushed what felt like its lips against my forehead. After it did, any pain I felt vanished completely. The figure seemed to be pleased with what it had done, and its face seemed to suggest that it was smiling.

I heard a shy, feminine voice whisper to me, “You’re safe now. It’s over.”

“You’re safe now! It’s over.”

My eyes jerked open and saw Alverd, who was cradling my body. It looked like he had caught me right before I could tip over. He looked at me with concern. “Kuro, what in the gods’ name was that? I’ve never seen anything like it!” I wasn’t in any condition to answer, and I wasn’t likely to pull any more tricks out of my hat for the rest of the day. But I remembered something. I pulled at the cape-bandage Alverd had used to stop my bleeding earlier; he tried to stop me, but was just as surprised as I was when I removed it, only to reveal smooth, healthy skin. As though I’d never been injured at all.

“Can you stand?” Alverd blurted out. I couldn’t, despite my miraculous recovery; my legs felt like jelly. My head was now swimming and I couldn’t shake the odd tingling sensation on my forehead. Looking past him, I saw that Eliza was no longer where I remembered her being.

I felt Alverd pull my arm over his shoulder, and to my surprise, Alicia moved to my left side to do the same. She grunted with exertion as she did so; she was no longer in the throes of her berserker rage and her injured leg was now giving her trouble. I pulled myself together enough to voice an immediate concern.

“Umm…so now what?” The words tumbled out of my mouth like soup from an overturned bowl.

Alicia steered us in the direction of the kennel entrance. “We need to leave now,” she muttered through gritted teeth. “There’s no telling how many soldiers take orders from Eliza. And the fact that we just took out the rest of the royal family won’t do us any favors either. If we can get to the stable, I might be able to fly us out of here.”

I tried to focus my eyes. A small blood trail led toward the barracks. I guess Eliza had decided that enough was enough, discretion was the better part of valor and blah, blah, blah, and got out while the getting was still good.

I had to admit, fleeing actually sounded like the last thing I wanted to do. Eliza needed to be hunted down. If she escaped, there was no telling what kind of hell she would unleash on innocent people. Not only that, but she’d spread the falsehood that Alicia was responsible for everything that had happened, and with Marcus and the King dead, the citizens of Ishmar were likely to believe her.

Alverd grimaced. I guessed that he was thinking something along similar lines, but there was nothing we could do. Eliza had enough of a head start, and we would only end up being captured or waste valuable time chasing her. He followed Alicia to the kennel entrance. He stopped once to pick up my staff where it had fallen.

I didn’t want to leave things as they were, but we had little choice. I tried to move my feet, but they were stubborn and responded sluggishly. The two continued to carry me until we reached the door to the stables.

Alicia pushed the frail wooden door open brusquely with her foot. The remaining dragons in the stable were all crowing, screeching, straining against their restraints as they sensed their brethren outside in chaos. She dropped my arm to undo the restraints from a medium-sized dragon that could fit the three of us, not much larger than the one that had carried us up to the barracks. Alverd steadied my weight, and laid me down upon the floor. I managed to sit up, and he cradled me as best as he could. I wheezed a bit before breaking out into a fit of laughter. Alverd looked at me incredulously. I tried my damnedest to stop, but our situation was hilarious. We were the bloody good guys, and we were about to run with our tails between our legs; the bad guy had already hightailed it and we were about to do the same damn thing. I regained my breath and grabbed Alverd’s shoulder for support.

“Gods… who would have guessed that we would be here of all places? Your parents would be proud of all you’ve done today, old friend.”

Alverd gave me his reassuring smile. “They would be proud of you too, Kuro. More so, even. But this all just proved my point, really. Vengeance never really accomplishes anything.”

That made me laugh even harder.

“Yeah,” I sputtered, “but it made me feel good.”

He sighed. “Avenging our families and homeland is all well and good, Kuro. But I think what our families would really want is for us to live; we carry their good will with us. More than anything, I think they would want us to do all the living they couldn’t, and make something of our lives. I don’t claim to be an expert on this sort of thing, but I really think they would want that.”

It was my turn to sigh. I looked him straight in the eye. “Is that what you think Laura would’ve wanted?”

He didn’t say anything at first. I admit I’d hit him below the belt. He smacked me over the head with his fist. It wasn’t a hard hit, but it was enough to get my attention.

“You listen to me, Kuro. You know as well as I do that she would not have wanted this; she would never have wanted us to kill for the sake of killing, or to try and get revenge on her behalf. She would have been the first to scream bloody murder if someone committed a slight against someone she cherished, but she would have never stooped to her enemy’s level.”

“But how do you-” I was in the middle of my retort when Alverd cut me off. “Just because I don’t seek revenge for her doesn’t mean that I don’t care about her. If she were still alive, if she were here… she’d tell us to live. I’m not going to throw away my life on a fool’s errand, Kuro. Where there is life, there is always another way. And deep down you know it too. You’re just too scared to let go.”

And there it was again, the ugly truth in my gut that had festered like a bad wound for the past five years. I had always thought that Laura might have left the duty of avenging her death to me, since we both knew Alverd was too much of a softy to kill in cold blood. I also knew that she might never have wanted for me to stain myself in such a way. I’d done a lot of things as a mercenary that I wasn’t proud of, and every time, I wondered if she disapproved of the choices I’d made.

It was too hard to let her go. I thought of her coy smile and gentle laughter. I didn’t want to forget that. But Alverd, damn him, was right. This wasn’t where she would want me to die. I could feel a tear slide down my cheek as the vision of her in my mind began to blur. Alverd saw the tear. I let another loose, and another until I couldn’t control them.

“Alverd… I don’t want to. She was… she was…” Alverd nodded his head. “I know. She was just as important to you as she was to me, old friend. But the best thing we can do now is to keep on living. And when we finally reunite in whatever life awaits beyond this one, we’ll have one hell of a story to tell her.”

I laughed, though it came out more like a hacking cough. He was right. He’d been right all along. Wiping away the rest of my tears on the sleeve of my robe, I said, “I doubt she’ll believe us. But then again, I’m sure she’s watching over us. I guess… I guess I’m not entirely ready to accept all of this. I just need some time. You’re right, Alverd. Let’s get out of here.”

I struggled to my feet, shouldering my pack and tucking my staff securely inside. The dragon ambled over to us, cooing softly. I clumsily threw a saddle on its back, trying to fasten the unwieldy thing. Alverd came over to help me secure the harness on the dragon’s other side, his hands replacing mine. He looked at me and I could see the approval in his face. I hadn’t conquered my anger or mastered my desire for revenge. I put it aside for now. After all, if I died, there would be no one to mourn our dead. There were other ways to avenge the dead than just killing. It made sense to flee now. Our chance had been lost, and if we threw our lives away, they would never rest.

A loud thunderclap from outside drew both Alverd’s and my attention. We looked out the opening where the kennel door had once been to see that a tornado had begun to form. The magic I’d used, backed by the hundred spirits, was completely out of control. The tubular spout was descending from the sky, reaching down towards the ground with alarming speed. The dragons, still tearing at each other, paid the oncoming storm no heed. It was enough, however, to spur both of us into redoubling our efforts.

Alicia finally came back with the secondary harness, as well as a leather pouch slung over her back. She took one look at the tornado forming outside and quickly fastened the harness to the dragon. The three of us climbed aboard its back ready to fly. The sound of clattering metal emanated from the doorway; soon the sound was accompanied by the shouts of men, most likely more soldiers working for Eliza. Indeed, as the kennel door burst open, one of Eliza’s men appeared, demanding that we dismount and surrender. But Alicia would have nothing of it. She leaned back and told us to hold on, and we launched out of the kennel and into the sky.

We shot past the still fighting dragons in midair, but giving them plenty of space turned out to be unnecessary. The three mighty dragons ceased their aerial fight and began what I thought was choking. Blood splattered from their mouths as they roared, and the three titans plummeted from the sky. We watched their unearthly descent, slow and inexorable, until they hit the ground in three separate bloody messes. There was no grace in any of it. Three terrible yet beautiful creatures had just died pointless deaths, added to the weight of the lives already lost in this whole senseless ordeal.

Below us, the two remaining dragons met similar fates. Their heartrending cries shook the very air itself, and then, they began coughing up blood. Their necks wrenched left and right, and they too, fell to the ground, dead. The entire arena was littered with the bodies of the slain, man and dragon alike, a testament to the bloody history of this horrible place.

Alicia began tearing up again, and turned away from the destruction. As if on cue, the tornado touched down in the middle of the arena, and engulfed the ancient structure in its screaming fury. Even from our distance, I could see the corpses of countless people and dragons being hurled to and fro. Our mount turned to the east, and we flew against the wind, leaving the arena behind us. With every beat of the dragon’s wings, the carnage became further and further away, though it didn’t make it any scarring. It was only as the arena faded from my sight that I grasped the true wisdom of fleeing. There was no cowardice in it. Only sense and rationality.

Those who run, live. Those who live, fight another day.