********************

Timemi 'Metal Witch'

I collapse to my knees, the agony in my limbs echoing the torment of the scalding sands beneath. Everything has become hotter, or maybe that's just the sensitivity of my burned flesh talking. Beside me, three figures crumple, their gasps for air harmonizing with the ceaseless howl of the wind. I can't even blame them or look down upon them this time, for I, too, can hardly move.

Our lack of protection from our exhaustion propels the crimson dust into a frenzied dance. The sand dives toward us, but I'm our leader. I have to stand up. If not me, then I will seem weak.

Gritting my teeth, I reach deep, forcing out the metal buried deep into my flesh, even as the burns dug into my flesh, screaming inwardly in horror. I only let a small gasp exit my mouth. The rest is clamped down, and swiftly, I build a dome of steel to protect us.

The dome stops much of the sand from reaching us and devouring us. The rest is an acceptable amount of damage for some rest. I fall back, resting on the backs of my heels while still kneeling.

In the meantime of resting, I check on the three with me.

Natos is the least injured but the most fatigued. His radiance was the literal only thing that could go beyond those... those flames. Great bellows of air fill his lungs as his already scarred flesh is a bit worse. The demon isn't getting off his back anytime soon. At least he was already heat-resistant.

Bemola is hurt, too, but most of her burnt flesh is already being treated by her ice. The female demon should be ready to move in a little while. Her ice was the best protection we had, but it didn't hold very long.

Anodra, however... she is the most vitally injured. She dove back in during the fight to take the scythe of that Virtue we killed. Apparently, she could tell where the Sigils would end for an artifact—a useful ability, but one that almost killed her. She must have an Augur or something of the like hidden from our information. Good to know. I'll be careful on my intentions with her so she doesn't notice them ahead of time.

Unfortunately, the burns reach from her toes to the top of her skull. Had she not been a Nahullo, born with redundant organs and tougher than most bears without bearing a single Sigil, I'm afraid she would have already passed. I wonder... will she recover in time to be useful?

I'll have to see.

I glance down at my own hands after stock of the three with me, but I hardly get a good look at myself before thoughts rage like wildfires in my skull. My mind swirls with the haunting memory of that relentless being. It wasn't human—no, not by any stretch of imagination. Cloaked in black and silver fire, it seemed to be at war with itself. But even with that civil war, the constant cursing and screaming, the thing overpowered us. Sure, we were not at our peaks from the fight with the Virtue, but I don't know if it would have mattered.

The mere recollection sends shivers down my spine, a visceral reminder of the terror that lurks within these desolate sands. The human that left it behind... it must have known the power within it. He left it to kill us after what we did to it. What did it say? Wyatt? Hmm... That's this generation's Graves, right? I believe I'm remembering it correctly. I scarcely misremember.

The grinding of my teeth only becomes noticeable as my jaw seethes with pain from doing it too much.

"Bastard. Wyatt Graves, I'll find you."

I barely expel my promise before a resounding cough wracks my body, and I taste the metallic tang of blood. Opening my hand, I find splatters of crimson with hints of burnt flesh. Not good. The heat reached into my lungs.

My other hand, which rests upon the sand of the wasteland, feels abrupt pain. I rip it back as the heat of it achieves a frightening height. At the same time, Natos and Bemola jump from the floor in fright. Anodra groans in pain as she lies nearly unconscious.

"We need to go now. Bemola, carry Anodra."

Bemola turns and stares at me before shaking her head. The woman then refreezes the cloak of ice around her.

"No."

"What?"

I immediately fire back, confused, but Bemola stands her ground.

"If you want to bring that deadweight, you can carry her yourself."

Bemola stands beside Natos, looking him up and down with the same haughtiness that she gave me. I bite my tongue as we don't have time for in-fighting. Instead, I gaze down at Anodra. I could leave her. I could take the scythe-like cleaver she found that will turn into an Arca.

I could leave her to die, sacrificing herself for my own life.

But... she saved my life.

I'm no demon that cannot understand compassion or a Nahullo bred for war. I am a Pygmy! I am of the First People! We do not let our benefactors die.

We... we are not cowards. We are tiny, we are small, but we have our own pride!

Glaring at Bemola and the cowardly Natos, I crouch, feeling the searing heat on my knees as I wrap my arms around Anodra. I try to lift her, only to realize her vast height comes with a genuine weight.

"I got you, Anodra. Just help me out a little here."

I whisper into her ear, unwilling to merely surrender. Pushing against the pain, I rise, determination etched into every line of my face as her body ascends as well. We cannot afford to linger here. That thing is still after us.

I'd use Ether to manipulate metal to help her move, but her armor is utterly immune to my machinations. At the same time, all my remaining metal is in this dome around us.

"Very well, Bemola. Natos. I will remember this. Let us go. Southbound. Water will be far easier to traverse with a man down."

Neither of the two refutes me, either because they agree or because they don't want to argue when that thing is coming after us. I step forward, burdened by Anodra, as she groans in pain. As I walk, however, the dome collapses, shedding the metal to help lighten my footsteps.

Stolen from Royal Road, this story should be reported if encountered on Amazon.

I think... I think I might be losing my leadership. That cannot happen. Father said I had to remain the premier Candidate. I will take the necessary actions when we reach an island.

While I consider my coming actions, a wave of heat splashes us in our backs, furthering the pace of our escape. Alongside that heat is a howling fury.

"C'MERE!"

*************

Wyatt Graves

I slide over onto my back as we reach the beachy shore of whatever island this is. Dozens of large ships are docked not far away in the water, but everyone has left us alone, which I'm thankful for. I finally have some time to breathe. In and out, fulfilling gasps load my lungs with air, rejuvenating me from the past stressful... year at this point, I presume.

The time I spent in the wasteland is unknown due to how time passed, but I don't think it's August or September anymore. Winter isn't all that far away.

Virgil sits beside me, one knee raised while his arm rests upon it. His eyes are searching all the boats around us. I don't know what he's looking around for, but I could just use a good meal, a soothing drink, and a good night's sleep.

It's been a long while since I've had any of that.

Abraham snores beside me, his sleep without a nightmare. I can't help but smile just a little at seeing it. Typically, or at least, he used to shiver, groan, and moan during every second of his sleep. Now, he's managed to overcome it. At least partially.

As I lie, a question comes to my mind for Virgil. And, as usual, because it's him, I see no reason why not to ask.

"What was that feather? And the voice?"

Virgil glances over at me before returning to the ships. He seems oddly interested in the boats. Is he looking to buy one? But we don't have any money... oh... right.

"A gift from a dying God. Apparently, I found it while on the edge of life and death. It fulfilled my Proof. Not really sure how it all happened, though. Something to do with you, most likely. Now... all I need to do is wait a little and locate a Sigil that I'd want. It will probably just be another Nightowl, though I won't say no to a Rogue."

I nod to him with amazement. He was given a gift by a God? Incredible... I wish I could get one of those. That'd make things way easier. Things aren't supposed to be easy for me, so maybe that's a bad idea. What did Lennon always say?

There are two paths, the easy and the hard. The only reward the easy has is that it is easy.

I think, though... Virgil deserved a little bit of easy after what has been assailing him recently. He still isn't over it, not wholly anyway. Silence reigns for a while longer on the beach as we gradually warm up from the sun. All we needed was to not be in near-freezing waters with our Ether to be perfectly fine. But as time passes, Virgil's eyes still don't leave the boats.

"Is there a problem?"

The way he stares at them is more suspicious than greed or survivalist instincts. And my thoughts are quickly proven correct.

"The ships are anchored, not to the sea floor, but to the island. If you look, the anchors go straight from the ship to a spot on the island. It's like... I don't know. It's so odd."

I shrug, not knowing much about ships or boats.

"Maybe it's just easier that way? Who knows. You got any money for food? I'm starving, man. I had to feed you while you were out that whole time."

Virgil slaps his pockets and checks the insides of Adumbral, the Bulwark I gave him for his own protection, and he shakes his head. Then, he nods to Abraham.

"Check him. I got nothing."

Groaning, I sit up and pat down Abraham's pockets, only to find... a box of matches and a single fucking coin.

Dammit.

"One gold dollar."

Virgil laughs in half-despair and half finding it all funny as I fall back prone. How? How do we have no money?

"How are we so poor?"

My friend slaps my side lightly with his fist.

"We aren't poor. You just don't carry any money with you. I did, but I must have lost it all. Abraham... can probably just get whatever he wants from a normal store with his minor illusions. Plus, that dollar will get us quite the meal, remember? You're used to seeing Johnny buy artifacts and whatnot for absurd prices. I tell you what, I can go get some food when my legs are cleared without that coin. Most of the people around these islands are bandits and thieves anyway."

Virgil calls the men and women around here thieves just as a pair of feet crunch upon the soft and definitely sandy-colored sand beneath us. I had to make the color when we landed here from the raft.

I look behind me at the footsteps, craning my head up and back as I find a pair of long legs leading up to a familiar face cradled by dark blue hair and piercing oceanic eyes.

"Thieves are we? Is that how you greet a friend, Wyatt Graves?"

My arms move on their own as I twist around onto my knees, gazing up at Autumn Adkins, daughter of Maddox Adkins. Her arms are splayed out from her hips, staring down at the three of us. I smile and shake my head at her question.

"Of course not, Autumn. You're not one of those thieves... right?"

Her smile only grows more comprehensive as I speak, and my uncertainty follows. She giggles and places her hand over her mouth before reaching down with an offered hand.

"I am... technically a thief, but I steal from other thieves. Fair is fair, right? Come, let's find you boys some food. I can see how starved you all are. We can catch up there."

I stumble to my feet and behind the woman with dark sea-like hair as I haul Abraham. Our fatigue must be pretty apparent if Autumn noticed it that quickly. I just nod and follow her as Virgil comes along, as silent as a shadow, carrying Abraham with him.

A sudden encounter pauses our journey for food right as we enter the proper streets of this town. Looking for a sign of where we are, I'm surprised as a bold and reckless stranger attempts to seize Autumn's arm.

"C'mere, girly. Wanna have some fun?"

Swift as a sea breeze, she retaliates as I find a watery blade running down her arm that severs the assailant's hand cleanly. The metallic scent of blood mingles with the salty breeze, and I watch, wide-eyed, as she calmly continues our path, as if the act were a mundane part of daily life.

"Come on. Some stupid people always want to die. Really makes me feel at home."

The man falls to the ground, howling in pain as many turn and look at him. But no one helps the man, even as I smell the alcohol in his spilled blood. Is everyone here drinking?

I stare at the fallen man, the blood dribbling in lethal amounts. Don't know if death is an apt punishment, but who is to say it isn't? I've never been here before. Autumn would know the laws better than I do. Shaking my head, I glance around at the rest of the passerbyes or sitting drunks nearby, but they don't meet my eyes.

Virgil pushes me lightly, telling me to stay close to Autumn, so I do. I ignore the scarred and rough-looking Sigiled and Unsigiled as we proceed behind Autumn. Only as we catch up to her do I recall what she said. This is her home? Wait... would that mean?

The bell of a dubious-looking establishment with broken windows boasting a faded sign distracts me. I step inside after Autumn, careful not to hit Abraham's head on the door as I help him through with Virgil. The atmosphere is thick with the murmur of hushed conversations and swarming with the strong smell of liquor.

Autumn guides me to an empty spot at the worn wooden bar, acknowledging the barkeep's wave with a nod. I follow her as before and place Abraham on the seat next to me, his head falling onto the bar.

The fucker is a heavy-ass sleeper when he actually wants to sleep. As we settle in, I lose track of Virgil. But the loss of my friend doesn't worry me. He's good at this whole... thing. I trust him to be on his own. In fact, he's probably hidden to protect me. He can blend into any scene like a chameleon. Pros of being an ex-assassin, I suppose.

"So... Autumn... what happened to you after we reached Bent?"

My words exit the air as Autumn sighs, giving the bartender two raised fingers after sliding two coins onto the bar. Then, she turns to me with those vibrant eyes.

"I... I apologize for running as I did. It was pretty cowardly. But... I do think it was the only correct move I had. Not much gets out here to these waters, but Kingstown has heard of the recent happenings. They are simply too big not to. Had I stayed with you and yours, I reckon I would have died."

I nod to her as I comprehend where we are. Kingstown. Where we were supposed to go. That's... convenient. It's far too convenient. Something has to be up. Way too convenient. Something within me burns to the core. Sigil resonance. It has to be—either Virgil or me. That means some creature or someone has my Sigil here. Could be something, too, I suppose.

"I will admit, it was... a struggle to get here. Many people died. Some... recently. Many more are alive, however, in Gravecross. But why have you come back here, to Kingstown? I thought you never wanted to return."

Autumn shrugs, taking the glass of amber liquid that the barkeep slid her. She only responds to me after downing the entire drink before raising an eyebrow at mine.

"Father has called all the children back. Not that I listened anyway. Ryder... he asked for me to come. I didn't want to, but he said he had something of Rhuger's that he wanted to give me. In truth, I've only been here a few hours. My ship took severe damage from the earthquake waves, and I had to anchor at the moving island."

My lips touch the glass of my drink, but I stop drinking the burning liquid as she finishes talking. One part of it is almost unbelievable to me.

"Moving island?"

Autumn nods to me before cupping her hand to whisper so the barkeep can't hear. Leaning in close, she finally speaks.

"Yes. Don't let anyone know I told you. It's a secret among Maddox's crew—and family. The whole island of Kingstown is upon the back of the Para Ub. Well... a Para Ub. The last of its kind. It's like a giant infant with a turtle shell. Father showed it to me once underwater, but it didn't react. He has it scared so shitless that it won't fight back no matter what, letting us build upon it. Most of those who live here just think it's an artifact that he found long ago, not his actual close friend."

She ends her lengthy whisper as she pulls back, smacking her cup onto the bar again for more alcohol. I consider myself for a moment before joining her as my stomach growls. Autumn smiles at me before shouting to get the barkeep's attention alongside the smacks.

"Some food, Corey! I want... a salmon and get this lad three!"

The barkeep looks at us, both astonished and unsure, as he serves a lone man.

"Four? In total?"

I raise my hand, but a grumble beside me outpaces me.

"Six. No... eight salmon."

Abraham, drooling, calls for food with lidded eyes. I share a pleading glance with Autumn before she laughs and covers her mouth again.

"Of course. I'll pay for it all. You've saved my life, after all, Wyatt."

I lean over and hug her, wrapping my arms tightly around her in thanks, but she quickly pushes me away.

"Ew, you brute! You've been drifting in seawater for days, and your broken metal arm tore my jacket. No closeness until we wash you up. Just because I'm a thief doesn't mean I don't do hygiene."

My eyes fall as I feel hurt by her words, but she quickly slaps my shoulder roughly. Then, she reaches for the fish quickly served, taking a bite of the cooked creature like a starving man with no regard for manners. While dripping grease, she laughs at me.

"I'm fucking with you, Wyatt. Dig in. I couldn't care less about this jacket or how you smell."