Slicing through him with a [Back Stab], she only somewhat expected to have the shaman-like garule at her mercy, but as the drumming sound echoed along with the sharp crashing of the bells through the growing mist, she realized she only sliced through his image. The colors of his wrappings swam like a mirage before fading into nothing before her eyes. Annoyed, Guin fell back and watched as mist flooded in from the pools where the Death Moss grew.

She cursed aloud as she searched the endless white. It was hard to see through the mist as it was, but the white of the marble made it seem even thicker—but as she watched the glow of the inscription dim, obscured by the fog, she held her spear tighter. Knowing that most of Ibraxis’s power was yet unknown, there was no telling, just what was out there waiting for her to make the first move.

But she wasn’t wholly impaired. Guin closed her eyes and focused. She still had her nose and her ears, if nothing else.

Sploosh, sploosh, came from the right. Sploosh, sploosh, came from the left. From behind her. From in front of her. Gentle lapping of water came from either side—but as she focused on the drums and the bells, she headed in the direction that she felt they were most likely to come from.

And she was not disappointed.

She opened her eyes only to see white. White—but bright, intelligent golden eyes peered through, almost glowing in the distance. How she missed that before, she did not know but sent a [Wind Blade] towards them. It cut the mist away, carving a path in front of her as it flew through. When she saw his clothes tatter, she confirmed that he wasn’t just a mirage—but the playing then stopped, followed by loud, steady claps.

“Not bad,” Ibraxis told her as the mist fell away from him. “See? I told you your instincts weren’t bad.”

“What the hell is going on, Ibraxis?” Guin demanded to know, her anger bubbling up. “Why are you attacking me?”

“We were always fated to clash, Candidate,” he said in a low voice. Guin went cold as his words sunk in. Of course, he would know that she was a Candidate—she told him as much herself—but she should have guessed from the start that he had been one, too. The white garule smirked as he continued, “I had just hoped to wait till you were strong enough to really battle me on an even keel. Fate, it would seem, would not have it that way. But it is better this way. The sooner you stop playing, the better.”

“What the hell is that supposed to mean? Stop playing the game?” she shouted as he started to play his bones again.

Instead of answering, he nudged his chin in the air, chanting as he looked up. Guin’s eyes shot up in time to catch a glimpse of a half dozen fireballs speeding at her from above.

“Crap—” she muttered, diving out of the way, but the flames still caught her legs as she shuffled, taking off a good 10% of her health at once. Tsk... Had she taken a direct hit she would have been in trouble—if she had walked away at all. In shock, she scrambled to her feet. “I—you—-”

“Don’t lose focus now, little fox,” his smirk turned cruel, causing a shiver to run down her spine. “You’ll never beat me that way.”

The pattern of his drumming changed as he banged his tail against the ground, causing the bells to crash violently. Guin slammed her hands against her ears as the air was filled with the dizzying sound of his song.

The mist started to fade as droplets of water appeared, forming mid-air. Guin watched as they spun and spun, growing into large orbs of water, similar to those that he had used against the wraiths—though obviously used in a different fashion. Her heart sank. He’s going to hurl those at me, isn’t he? But her ears twitched as the sound of hope galloped up through the hall.

“Goodb—” Ibraxis started, but a great roar accompanied thunderous paws as BronzePaw launched herself at him through the fog.

The balls of water that hung around Guin shattered, crashing to the ground as Ibraxis’s song staggered to a halt as he dodged. BronzePaw slid on the slick rounded skulls—slicker now with the added water. She roared at him again as she backed up towards Guin, her tail lashing back and forth angrily.

Enjoying this book? Seek out the original to ensure the author gets credit.

“What is this now?” BronzePaw spoke with a voice that came from deep within her belly.

Guin pulled herself up. “Thanks,” she said, brushing herself off. “Know anything about fighting an Undying? ‘Cause I’m kind of at a loss here.”

“Not really,” BronzePaw admitted. “But I do know a few things about fighting him.”

The look on Ibraxis’s face was one of sheer disbelief. “Of course it would be you,” he said, standing on all fours, his tail lashing back and forth in the same way that BronzePaw’s was. His eyes glanced between Guin and BronzePaw as they stood together. “You were the other party member. I should have known,” he murmured.

“This unruly fool, against what enemy do you take your stand? One who defended you? This is unlike you, Sathuren,” BronzePaw spat at him. Guin snapped her head to look at the garule woman in surprise as she continued, “Am I spoiling your fun? I must say, I never thought you’d be the one I’d find picking on those weaker than yourself. Is that how you get off in this game, then? Am I to be disappointed in you?”

“That is not what this is,” Ibraxis said tiredly, standing up. “Get out of the way, Bahena. This has nothing to do with you.”

“Bu-Sa-Ba,” Guin stuttered, not sure what part of this she wanted to question first.

BronzePaw snorted. “Nothing to do with me? I don’t think that’s really the case,” she said. “And you will explain it to me, even if I have to beat it out of you. I must say, though, you’re looking decidedly white, dear brother. It’s been a long time since I’ve seen your feathers in their natural state. I almost didn’t recognize you. Run out of scale dye, going around terrorizing people? Or are you trying to be clever in case one of us caught you?”

“Oh, shove off,” he growled, his eyes narrowing.

“What’s wrong?” she chided. “You seem crankier than usual. The other professors pick on you again? Just bite their heads off, and then they won’t say anything to you anymore. You don’t need to take it out on my little friend here. Or me, for that matter.”

“'Friend', is it,” he muttered as if he were almost offended by the concept. “One thing has nothing to do with the other—”

“What the hell is going on here?” Guin snapped as the two large garule gave each other leveling glares. “Are you two serious?” She pointed at Ibraxis and turned to BronzePaw. “This jerk is Sathuren?”

Giving Guin a very apologetic look, BronzePaw nodded. “Unfortunately, in this circumstance,” she said, then added, “I promise he’s not usually quite... like this...”

“You do not need to make excuses for me,” Ibraxis said. Guin saw as his fists clenched. “You couldn’t have possibly thought to know anything about me after meeting just one or two times, could you? Never mind,” he shook his head. “Bahena! You need to leave and let me do what I need to do. Now.”

“I will not,” BronzePaw told him with an offended look. “Since when have I ever taken orders from you, you unruly male? And besides that, did you really think I’d look the other way as you hurt my teammate? Really?”

Ibraxis sighed and put his hands on his hips. “It was worth a shot,” he grumbled.

“...Your dedication to fight my roommate is more than a little disconcerting, brother,” BronzePaw pointed out. “Also, why are you talking like that? It’s... unsettling.”

Guin looked at Ibraxis with new eyes as he stared at BronzePaw in annoyance. “That’s Sathuren? The one I met when you moved in? The one I’ve met and that you’ve been talking about this whole time?”

“It is.”

“All I did was dye my feathers; I’m not that unrecognizable—and why the hell are you talking about me?” Ibraxis growled, taking up a more aggressive stance.

“People talk about their families, Sav,” BronzePaw said and rolled her eyes. “Honestly, what are you so riled up about?”

“It’s none of their business!” he shouted at her. This was obviously not going in his favor the way he seemed to think it would before.

Sighing, BronzePaw crossed her arms. “Yes, that is the Sathuren. A bit childish, today, but he’s normally pretty level-headed. Also, he’s using a rather grating form of archaic garuli language at the moment, but he’s fluent in Isoli-Valkyrian. He’s both a scientist and a professor at the university we go to for our classes—it’s just that he’s usually a lot nicer. And more... gray.”

Guin blinked, and she felt her jaw open involuntarily. “Gray...?” she managed to stutter. “White... or gray?” Her whole body felt numb as she looked Ibraxis over again. “A white garule...”