A single drop of rain struck Cedric’s cheek, ran down, fell beyond the pyre. His eyes trailed after it.

Then he looked up.

The black sky suddenly exploded into a frenzied rainstorm, soaked through his robes, flattened and darkened his hair. That smell of damp clothes, of wet, slick mud, that cool refreshment… it brought back all those years of hell as a traveling Sylvet merc. It brought back hardness to his gaze.

He looked back to Faunia—icicles were growing all over her body in sharpened crystals as the rain hit and became her armor.

She’s so much more utilitarian than me… she knows Tirolith a hell of a lot more than I know Serkukan. I wouldn’t be able to convert blood into armor so quickly…

Then he looked down to the spiraling green gateway, that which blocked the grand opening of the palace.

A hand leapt through, bloody, tensed, grasping at the air. Then followed the rest of a man, fell limp into the dirt. He lay there for a long moment, raised his head like a dying animal, screamed out as if victim to a thousand lashes.

He's sunburnt. The rain isn’t cooling him, it must hurt—

Faunia leapt off the obsidian pyre toward him, carried down by a hovering Tirolith.

Be careful.

Then a brown robe emerged from the vortex, stood tall and proud over the writhing man. The ley immediately grew tight all over, both once and twice, in a way that was immediately familiar.

And not in a pleasant way.

…Jirtu!

Cedric leapt onto his crimson wings. He launched past Faunia at immense speed, raced with his Sylvet sword at the ready…

Jirtu looked up, his bulging bug eyes going wider yet at the sight. Then he threw a hand up at Cedric—”Stay back!”

Cedric spiraled in anticipation of a magic attack, landed carefully some dozen feet away. He looked to the sunburnt man suffering on the ground—Ivalié!

“Fucking move!” Jirtu flung himself at Cedric, but fell through to the other side like the boy wasn’t even there. Cedric looked back at him upon the ground, clicked his tongue dejectedly.

Then came a loud, muddy stomp from the portal—Cedric darted back to see—

KRCK!

There was a crack in his mind. Then a shatter of glass. Cedric held his mouth as his mind began to dizzily swim and grow distant. His chest began to hurt like a fist was lodged in the center of it. He clutched at his robes, felt his thousand-beat heart rate accelerate.

Then he saw the weapon that had hit him and his anxiety swelled: a long and sleek black blade, curved like a weapon from the east. Grivonym. The Dragonrend...!

Faunia landed behind him.

“Stay back!” Cedric repeated the desperate command, vomit chasing the words into the dirt as he violently hunched over.

Jirtu rolled his eyes from the ground, brushed himself off as he stood. “So now you fucking listen…”

A shirtless, sweat-slick man emerged from the portal. Purple-skinned, long-haired… Cedric was sure he recognized him.

“I killed you already.” he groaned, wiping bile away.

The man reared his head back. “If only that were true. You’d have saved yourself from the nightmare which now begins.”

Cedric fell to his knees. He could no longer see clearly. He touched his nose, retracted his fingers to see the blood which had leaked. Is this… poison? Is this Throkos’ ability?

Writhing Ivalié was there, just at the edge of his gaze. He reached a hand out toward Cedric.

Cedric tried to reach it, but it was too far. His eyes became blurry and dark, his head hit the dirt… Then their hands touched, and a long, cool object fell into Cedric’s grasp.

“Your suture…” mumbled Ivalié. Then his own head fell limp.

…You want me to use magic? That’s not possible. I can’t do that.

He prodded the ley. He could barely feel it, it was so distant.

…Is Faunia okay?

A tendril of ice sprung out from Faunia’s armor at Elos. A crimson shield shimmered into existence and deflected the attack before exploding into a spray of blood.

“You’ve taken something that isn’t yours.”

“I won’t hear that from you, Etherian Knight. Your kind thrive off theft.”

“I implore you to reconsider.” Faunia began to hover up from the ground. Her spiky icicle armor shone platinum.

Then she groaned out: “Augh—” And she fell limp to the dirt.

Elos stepped forward, calmly spun Grivonym in his hand. “Poison is pretty effective. Isn’t it, Akhilesti?”

The tip of the blade touched Faunia’s chin. Water dribbled down her skin from her melting armor.

“And if it doesn’t work, the demon I've supplanted tells me I control reality, is that right? Well—what am I waiting for?”

And he plunged Grivonym into her flesh.

Jirtu grit his teeth as he watched Faunia fall unconscious, flat on the muddy ground.

He looked to the wincing Ivalié in disgust. “Once, only once will I repay my debt through saving your worthless lives.”

And he clapped his hands together. The impact sounded like a gong, and immediately Faunia’s, Ivalié’s, Cedric’s bodies were all surrounded in vibrating gray auras.

Elos glanced between them questioningly.

“Stasis. They’re unafflicted by your poisons.”

Elos swept a kick at Faunia’s head like it was a child's ball. She didn’t budge.

Jirtu’s eyes narrowed. “Hand over Grivonym and I’ll consider sparing your life.”

Elos burst at him in a fiery rush, swept the sword…

But Jirtu was unphased. He grinned like a madman when it sliced him halfway, left him completely unmarked and undamaged. Elos carried his momentum past the mage...

Then he brandished his glistening rings, each shining with a differently colored gem in intricate design. “My power lies in other sources.”

Jirtu swung his hand up into the air. The obsidian pyre behind them suddenly rumbled and shifted, black dust sprayed into the air. The whole world began to shake as it began to slowly, slowly tilt over them. The dark shadow it cast stretched across them all.

“Grivonym, now, or the pyre kills us all.”

Taken from Royal Road, this narrative should be reported if found on Amazon.

Elos lifted his own hand to the pyre. It vanished immediately. His brow tensed as though the blood loss had made him light-headed.

This fucker’s better than Cedric already. I’ll need to be smarter than that.

Elos cracked his neck in either direction. “The red demon tells me that your rings protect you from my reality magic.”

“That’s right.”

“Then I’ll just break every one of your fingers, one by one, until there’s no magic left to protect you.”

“You won’t even get close to me—”

BRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRR…

…Antithesis… the bane of my power… but not my most absolute power.

Jirtu’s hands began to glow.

“You know natural magic as well? I’m impressed.”

“And you’ve just left yourself without a single Etherian.”

Jirtu flung a red bolt.

And a black shadow dropped down from above—

THOOOOOOOOOOOM!

“What the fuck!?” Jirtu recoiled through the storm of dust which the blast swept up. “What was—oh… Fuck.”

Seven feathers unfolded like curtains to reveal that centipedal demon, writhing inhumanly. The voices hissed out: “So sorry to cut in on your fun, Jirtu. I’ll just be borrowing your friend.”

The wings collapsed around the confused Elos. He struggled to get Grivonym into an offensive position, but six hand-sized imps of bone climbed down Rykaedi’s stature and held the blade fast.

Then Rykaedi skittered back like a bug from hell, thrust herself through the giant obsidian doors of her palace, and slammed them shut behind herself.

In only a second, it was all as good as over.

Jirtu clicked his tongue dejectedly and turned back to his ensemble.

“Release.”

Ivalié began to writhe again. Cedric vomited blood and mush onto the ground. Faunia did not move still.

He took a deep sigh. “Well, this’ll fucking hurt—let thick and thin become the same,

and may my mind take their insane,

let scarce and scattered become profane,

and may their blood become my rain.”

Faunia’s eyes shot open and she hissed in a gasped breath, immediately sat up looking for her opponent.

Cedric struggled to glance left and right for the same adversary.

Ivalié rolled into his back and breathed heavily. His red skin was becoming pale again.

The rain stopped.

“Is he gone?” asked Cedric.

And then—thud—Jirtu landed face-first into the mud.

“Jirtu!”

Ivalié shuddered in a breath. “He… he took upon our ailments! What a fucking bastard!”

Cedric stood upright and stretched, lumbered over to Jirtu. “You mean…?”

“I think he’s…”

Faunia interjected through her drool, “He’s still breathing. Look, his chest.”

Then Ivalié remembered: “That’s right, his devices! As soon as Antithesis wanes, he’ll be healed!”

“…Smart.”

“But still,” added Cedric, “for him to do this for us… he must’ve gone through some kind of hell after what I did to him.”

They all took a moment to breathe, to take it all in. The black sky was becoming gray, some clouds had parted to reveal rays of glistening sunshine. The smell of sulfur was ripe on the wind. To the north, they could now see the grand city of Harth. The same place he’d woken up. The same place they’d fought Rykaedi...

The place where he’d died.

“Where’s Tir? Tir!?” Faunia grabbed at her chest.

Cedric felt his own chest. His whole body felt lighter. His heart rate was slow, steady. “Serkukan, too. Fuck…”

Ivalié asked, “What about Ithlo’vatis? Is he—?”

Faunia looked dejected. Cedric shook his head.

“I see… He’d always speculated that he wouldn’t make it far. He thought—if I’m not mistaken—that he would be the one to kill Tartys. He said he had the perfect counter… he said…”

Cedric’s eyes lit up in surprise when a teardrop fell from Ivalié’s eye, hit his hand. He stifled a sob. “To think I’ll never see him again… Just like that. One day you have everything, you know everything… and the next…”

Faunia looked at Cedric, brushed his shoulder with her palm. He said, “Ivalié, we—”

“I know. I know, we have to keep moving.” He stood and feigned a smile, picked up his staff. “I’ll see him again. In the deadworld.”

“You’re not going there just yet,” affirmed Faunia. “I still have an idea."

Cedric was taken aback. “Faunia, we can’t go against Rykaedi like this. Maybe if we had Ozzod, maybe, and Grivonym, and…”

But Ivalié whistled sharply. He pulled something from within his jacket.

“A…?”

Ivalié shushed them before they could say what it was. A small plate, palm-sized. Reflective, like a mirror. A pocket mirror?

But Cedric still began to protest, “Even so, Faunia, I—

But he lost that thought as he saw the oversized Dragonsail suddenly emerge from behind the distant visage of Harth, pull up high into the sky.

“Looks like they knew.” Faunia affirmed. She couldn’t hide her smirk.

Even in defeat… how is she so defiant? Is this how I used to be? So carefree?

They tracked the massive ship the whole time it approached. It wasn’t long before they could see the pale-faced arbiter waving with a sly smirk, and Arobella next to him with her hands tucked into her robe and tired, glazed eyes.

Then Marisol threw herself at the railing beside Arobella and nearly knocked her over, waving desperately for Cedric and Faunia to see.

Cedric lifted his own hand for a dull wave. He could no longer hide his own smile as it grew. His eyes landed on Faunia’s smirking face, lit up golden by the growing sunlight.

He felt his heart flutter like it never had before.

The three dozen soldiers cheered as Faunia and Cedric boarded the massive draconian ship. Cedric was immediately bashful, though Faunia was unfazed by their praise. She walked forward through the crowd toward the beaming Marisol with only a glance toward the arbiter. “I’d ask how you knew we needed help, but…”

Then the arbiter approached, “Apologies for my intervention, Miss Vleren. It came to my attention that you’re without Tirolith?”

Marisol gasped.

Faunia lowered her head toward the ground. “…Yeah. But that isn’t going to stop us. We still have Dyosius.”

Cedric sighed, “Serkukan is gone, too. We’re left defenseless except for a prayer that Dyosius will work when we need it to.” Then his eyes landed on the arbiter. “I’m not going to ask which way Fate is headed; I know you won’t answer. Can you at least tell me if the Hierarchy is still in order?”

“It is.” The arbiter smiled his narrow-eyed, sickening smile, thin like a serpent’s. “For now.”

Then it won’t be once the fight begins. Dyosius will disrupt it. Dyosius, the sole amplifier of indomitable human will itself. Human Will is the antithesis of Fate. The equation solidified itself in his mind.

“We’ve got a whole handful of men to charge in with us.” said Faunia from behind his shoulder, seeking a slightly more private conversation.”

“Cannon fodder,” he added in a whisper.

Faunia looked glum. “They’ll probably all die.”

“Are you asking me if I can stomach the cost of winning this battle?”

She nodded.

“I suppose I’ll have to. If we rush in there undefended and unprepared, I doubt she’d have to even move to mind control us and destroy us at once.”

“This feels so much like the last time we fought her. Except—last time, we fought Jirtu outside. Ozzod was there to help with that fight. Then we got into the fortress, and…”

“And?”

She smiled. Over his shoulder, he could see tears welling up in her eyes. “Well, you did die.”

“Are we more or less prepared than that time?”

“…I don’t know.”

Cedric smirked slightly. “Nothing we can do but fight until our bodies betray us. Until the last breath we’ve got.”

Faunia nodded.

Then Marisol interjected—“I’m coming too.” And her fiery-haired Etherian appeared over her shoulders.

Cedric raised his eyebrows. “I’d forgotten about her. Then we still have one.”

“And Dyosius,” said Faunia. “We have two.”

“—And me,” said the dragon whose back they were mounted upon. “King Lorik, I would ask that you take me into battle. I’m not as powerful as Serkukan, but my control over reality is not to be besmirched.”

Cedric nodded. “Three, then.”

Faunia said, “And three is enough.”

"Three is enough."