Flames punctuated the silence. Their intense heat, the midnight glow of the burning lodge, the inferno raging in the gelubor downhill, the bonfire, and even Matyxal herself cast the night in orange-red and set Zyryxa to an uncomfortable sweat. She clutched her greataxe, praying that Matyxal’s new Volqor didn’t leave them as ashes too.

“Y-you d-d-don’t w-want to fight us,” Lexyn managed, bow drawn on the bard.

“No, darling,” Matyxal answered, maintaining her fighting stance. “I’d rather sing your songs than take your lives.”

Indignation rose in Zyryxa, bursting through her fear. “Then why are you here, Matyxal? Why become a divinedamned raider?”

She swung her fiery gaze onto Zyryxa. “Zyryxa. You of all people should understand why I would do anything to see the flames of renewal consume the wicked.”

Zyryxa tightened her grip on Zyrthalla’s greataxe, trying not to let the familiarity lower her guard. She knew what drove her, why Saevah haunted her dreams and was never far from her own thoughts. “For vengeance.”

Matyxal frowned, her freckled face falling into a forlorn sadness that further threatened Zyryxa’s resolve. “For love.”

“For love?” Bax spat at Matyxal’s feet. “I loved my people, my wife, my husband, my homestead. You took them from me! For love?” He scoffed.

“Just as love brought you here tonight, warrior. What is vengeance, if not love twisted by sorrow and wrath?”

“My family never did anything to you!” Bax roared. Striqa and Valqa each seized an arm, pulling him back to them before he charged.

“And all I did to your family was let you, the little girl, the woman, and her babe escape. Then I made sure Valqa and Striqa survived.”

“You captured me!” Natazia roared, Zyryxa feeling the dragon lurking within the scarred woman. “Don’t pretend that you’re innocent!”

Matyxal frowned. “I kept you alive. Despite your best efforts to die.”

Natazia gripped her spear, knuckles whitening further. “I should’ve died with my brood!”

“And never get retribution for their deaths? Every man that hurt them is dead now and you’re still alive to carry on their hopes. You can be mad at me for keeping you alive or you can grow stronger and bring battle to the one responsible for the pain we all feel. If you aren’t wise enough to know the right path, I’ll grant you the death you desire.”

Shaking, Natazia stepped toward Matyxal. Zyryxa held her back. “Wait!” Her voice trembled, her fingers struggling to maintain their grip on the axe. She had no doubts the bard’s chances of killing them all were high. Zyryxa clung to the hope that she didn’t want to fight them, that she had a good reason for being here. Zamael’s Hells! Zyryxa didn’t want to die.

“If you want to see Faxiq dead, why are you here?”

“I lost my sun and my moon, sent away a girl that was my pride and joy, and had to bow to the man who stole them from me.”

“Spare us your sob story, bard,” Natazia said, “Nobody will mourn you tomorrow.”

“Aye,” Bax said. “Nothing but silvery lies to ease your own conscience. You could’ve fought for us when our lives burned right in front of you. But you did nothing!”

Pelzyq, standing between Lexyn and the surrounded bard, spat into the snow. “You’re the worst sort of evil. The type that thinks they’re the hero.”

“I’m no hero,” Matyxal said, her ethereal voice ringing over the flames as the bunkhouse collapsed beyond her. “I wish I had the strength to challenge Faxiq, but like you, I must check my pride and recognize my limitations.”

This story has been stolen from Royal Road. If you read it on Amazon, please report it

“You can’t take us all,” Bax roared, his wives holding him back, knowing how wrong he was.

Between Bax, Pelzyq, and Natazia, Zyryxa felt a constant dread that one of them would fuck this up. “Stay your weapons,” she said, glancing at Pelzyq. “I still need an answer, bard.”

“I understand your pain,” Matyxal said to Bax, “for it is my own. Everything I do, is to see Faxiq returned to ash. If I could’ve saved your homestead,” she looked to Natazia, pleading for forgiveness, “or your brood without sabotaging my own plans, I promise I would’ve.”

Zyryxa was maddened with the bard’s circular bard logic. She had no doubt that Matyxal could’ve protected the homestead if she wanted to, could’ve saved every soul that was now ash. “Enough pretty words, bard! I fail to understand how watching innocent folk get slaughtered aids your plans?”

“She needs Faxiq to believe she is loyal,” Lexyn said.

Matyxal grinned at her. “Indeed, precious.”

Pelzyq scoffed. “Keep your bardic charms to yourself, you flaming bitch! Nobody here is falling for your lies!”

“She’s not lying,” Zyryxa said, hoping to lull Pelzyq before he ruined this. It made sense. Even if Matyxal could kill all the raiders on her own, they wouldn’t have lined up for her. All it took was one escaping to sabotage whatever she planned. Now that the raiders were dead, Matyxal was free to work against Faxiq. There was only one reason she would need to get into the heart of southern Volqor. “She needs to get to Vaztyma without Faxiq suspecting her.”

“Very astute, Zyryxa,” Matyxal said, stepping into a fighting stance. “Now, there are three ways this can end. We part ways here.” She glanced at Bax and his wives. “You go home and rebuild your lives.” She shifted to Natazia. “You undergo the Rite of the Dragon Knight and carry on the memory of your brood.” She smiled at Lexyn. “You continue to be a light in the darkness.” To Pelzyq she added, “While you continue to protect her with all your heart.”

Pelzyq growled at her. “And I’ll protect her from you.” He gestured to Taxim’s head smoldering in the bonfire. “We know the treachery you’re capable of, bard.”

“She doesn’t need trickery to fight us!” Zyryxa yelled, so sick of Pelzyq’s persistent stupidity.

“And you, Zyryxa,” Matyxal continued, “can continue on the path to becoming the future Champion of the Ice Tribe.”

Natazia balked, shaking her head. “You just expect us to let you go? Vaztyma would kill us herself if we let someone as dangerous as you go unchecked in the heart of her lands.”

Natazia wasn’t wrong. Vaztyma would be displeased with them, even if she ended up siding with Matyxal. Letting her go wasn’t their choice to make, as appealing as it was to her own fears. Dread stabbed at her core, threatening to break Zyryxa’s composure. She glanced around the fiery scene, noting that everybody recognized the truth. They couldn’t let this demon loose and carry on their lives.

“You s-said there were three options,” Lexyn managed, her bow shaking in her unsteady grip.

“Lower your weapons,” Matyxal said softly. “Help me get to Vaztyma. Work with me to end this folly of a war. Do what needs to be done to see Faxiq consumed by the Flames of Renewal.”

“There is no way we’re letting you keep your weapon,” Natazia said, speaking what everybody else felt. Zyryxa was relieved Natazia had the courage to say it first.

Matyxal hesitated, the spit of the flames surrounding them seeming louder than ever. Notably, she clutched to the hilt of her flaming longsword. “Option three: we fight. I still climb Monzqora, burning through every attempt the Ice makes to stop me.” She stepped into an attack stance. “May Seraxa’s wisdom guide your choice and Qoryxa’s judgment be focused on the one who deserves it.”

Zyryxa clenched her mother’s greataxe, aware that the glistening blue wyrm’s blood gave her, and probably her alone, a chance to break through Matyxal’s hardened flesh. Yet, there was no will to fight in her. Matyxal wasn’t her enemy. Nor should she be. Her hand laxed on the weapon, willing that Bax, Natazia, and Pelzyq could see reason.

Please, she prayed to Qoryxa, please guide them with your judgment.

Bax was tense, his wives steadying him as he stood on the edge. Natazia trembled beside Zyryxa, biting her lip and shaking her head in fury. Lexyn pleaded gently with Pelzyq to stay with her, placing her hand over his.

“She’s a liar!” Pelzyq bellowed. “If she doesn’t give up her weapon, she plans to use it!”

“Just because a dragon doesn’t let you pull out its teeth doesn’t mean it plans to bite you,” Matyxal said, holding her stance. “Swallow your pride, boy. Listen to your Pelianna. She’s by far the wisest one here. If you can’t trust me, trust her.”

“Please, Pelzyq,” Lexyn said, tears rimming her blue eyes.

Pelzyq shook his head. “I won’t be the reason you die.” His jaw tightened; he glanced at Zyryxa. “We can take her.”

Zyryxa and Lexyn screamed for him to stop. Alas, Pelzyq was too stupid and too stubborn and not strong enough to afford either. He charged Matyxal, intent on being the reason they all died amidst the flames of this forlorn homestead.