Windshear dove through the hole in the roof, passing through Fahroul’s shade as Ingrid dived to the side, narrowly avoiding the predator’s claws. The crowd of Skjar in front of it wasn’t so lucky, and the griffon ploughed into them, tossing them aside on its way to Blase. The boar roared another challenge and charged as well, the crowd of soft, squishy humans caught between them. Ferez winced as the predators cut through the press, bodies both whole and parts thereof flying as they crashed together. He hoped most of them didn’t belong to Ingrid’s clan.

But that wasn’t his primary concern right now. He jumped off the podium and ran, shouldering through the panicking crowd as he beelined for Leo. He pulled up short as Windshear and Blase rolled past, locked in a brutal struggle, biting and slashing. As they shot by, Ferez counted six unfortunate warriors crushed under the animals.

Damn, but Leo had really made a mess of things now. As soon as the beasts were gone, he started running again, the path to the water mage now clear. He grabbed the fool by the collar and shook him.

“You fucking idiot! What were you thinking?”

“I was thinking, ‘I’m getting the fuck out of here!’ Come on, let’s help the griffon and leave!”

“Not without Ingrid!”

“For fucks’ sake, Ferez. She’s not going to leave with Fahroul here, let alone when we’re in the middle of a clan war!”

“Which is why we’re going to kill Fahroul and end the fighting,” Ferez said, his eyes boring into Leo’s.

The smuggler cast a glance at the griffon hovering in the air, catching its breath as the boar jumped up, snapping at it. With a screech, it dove back down, the two apex predators crashing together and killing yet more Skjar who were too slow to move.

“But what about Windy?”

“Don’t worry about the fucking bird when my fiancé is fighting for her life, Leo!”

With a single tear rolling down his cheek, Leo nodded and turned to face Fahroul.

Ingrid was on the defensive now, her reserves of Talent already close to spent as her companions entered the fray. Fahroul was too close to her for Ferez to Flash Bomb him, and there was no time to formulate a proper plan. The hall was coming down around them, and what little remained standing had caught alight as the beasts ploughed through the roasting pit. The clans had spilled out onto the surrounding snowfield, returning their full attention to killing each other now they had more space to move, though it was impossible to tell who had the upper hand at a glance.

The snow was soaked with blood, and the violence would only continue.

Ferez roared and leapt at Fahroul, the mage turning at the last second to meet his attack. Ferez swung a flaming fist, aiming for the head. The shadow twisted and caught the attack in an open hand. Ferez grunted and poured power into it, fumbling for the dagger at his belt, but Fahroul returned with an attack of his own, a fist of pure Umbral energy careening towards Ferez’s face. He swore and let go of the dagger, catching the attack at the last safe moment with a hand wrapped in flame.

They poured their wills into the struggle, flame and shadow lashing out around them. An errant strand of night smashed into the ground and tore a path through the melee, barely missing Windshear and Blase, forcing the animals to disengage. There were many others it did not miss.

“A little help here!” Ferez shouted.

Ingrid charged Fahroul’s exposed back, but the shade sensed it, a tendril of smoke lashing out and wrapping around her throat. Ingrid’s eyes widened as it lifted her off the ground and she clawed at the tendril, but it was an extension of Fahroul’s will. Solid enough to keep her trapped, but where her Talent infused hands sought to tear through it, it was no more tangible than mist.

Fuck!

“Leo! Now!” Ferez shouted, still straining to match Fahroul’s assault. The water mage darted into the fray, a halo of mead crystals around his head, but another pool of smoke surged towards him, completely enveloping him. He thrashed around inside, but couldn’t break out of his prison.

Ferez turned his head until his eyes locked onto Fahroul. The shade was vibrating slightly, and it took Ferez a moment to realise the bastard was laughing.

“All three of you together are not enough, fire mage. Soon I will overwhelm your companions, and then I will end you.”

The Umbrian was right. Ingrid’s Talent was dwindling, she probably couldn’t keep the tendril around her neck at bay for much longer. Leo was a surprise most people only had the chance to underestimate once, but he wasn’t on Fahroul’s level in open combat. There was only one thing to do.

And it was going to hurt.

“Let’s test that theory,” he said through clenched teeth.

He pulled one of his hands away from the magical shoving match, Umbral energies flowing over him in an agonising cascade as he formed a Flash Bomb in his free hand. He fought against the current, and pushed it into Fahroul’s body, a scant foot away from his own.

And then he clenched his fist.

The blast threw him back, tumbling through the air to bounce off a table and land heavily on the broken floor. He groaned and struggled to his feet, checking his handiwork. Ingrid had been launched clear of the battle and was lying in the snow. She moved, thank the gods, but it was clear she was in no shape to continue fighting. Leo, meanwhile, was pushing his way clear of the Umbral prison as it petered out, Fahroul’s power no longer feeding it. He locked eyes with Ferez and raised an eyebrow.

What now?

“Leo, get Ingrid clear of the battle. She’s spent.”

“Happy to get away from this prick for a while, but then what?”

“If she’s safe, help her clan. You should be able to tip the balance in their favour.”

Leo’s eyebrows shot together. “While you, what? Take on Fahroul yourself?”

“That’s exactly what I’m going to do,” Ferez replied, iron in his voice.

Leo sucked his teeth for a few seconds, then raised his eyebrows and shrugged. “I assume you know what you’re doing. Have at him!”

As the water mage hurried through the rapidly reforming cloud of smoke to Ingrid, Ferez drew the dagger and prepared to fight. He wasn’t entirely sure if this would even work against Fahroul in his shadow form, but from the speed with which the bastard was regenerating, even Flash Bombs probably wouldn’t dissuade him from it now. It seemed he had learned from their previous encounter.

“As you can see, your little parlour trick is not such an issue for me now,” the shade said as it resumed Fahroul’s form, smugness oozing from his tone.

Until he saw the dagger.

“Where did you get that?” he hissed.

“Oh, this old thing? Gift from the Jarl because he was so happy I’m going to marry his daughter.”

“I’m sure. He must have been over the moon.”

The buzzing drone caused by the Shadow Form made it a little difficult to be sure, but that might have been dry sarcasm. Ferez opened his mouth to say something suitably clever in response when Fahroul blurred.

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And then he was a foot away. Ferez yelped and tried to raise the dagger, but he’d barely begun to move when Fahroul smashed a fist into his chest. It launched him backwards into a table, the fire mage ragdolling as he flipped over it and landed hard on his stomach. Groaning, he pushed himself to his feet, swaying but mostly ready to fight, until an elbow to the back of the head sent him crashing to the ground, stars flashing behind his eyes. He snarled, and a shell of flame burst into life around him, forcing the laughing Fahroul to retreat.

How has he gotten even faster?

“Surprised, Ferez? I think you deserve to know the truth,” the Umbrian said as he returned to his normal form. “I bet you thought Shadow Forms weren’t as fast as Shadow Step? Look angry if I’m right.”

Ferez scowled.

Fahroul chuckled again. “You’re a fucking idiot. It’s literally part of the Shadow Step. Most mages just lack the power and control to maintain it.” He burst into his Shadow Form once again. “In this form I’m literally faster- “

He disappeared, and Ferez felt a slight breeze brush his cheek as Fahroul whispered in his ear. “-than the eye can see.”

Ferez tried to summon the shell again, but a blow to his kidneys lifted his feet off the ground. Before they touched earth again, Fahroul appeared before him and slammed a fist into his gut, the force rocketing him back into the ground. By some miracle, he managed to use the momentum as he bounced to regain his feet, but the Umbrian immediately went on the offense, raining blows on Ferez from every direction within fractions of a second. The fire mage curled up, flooding Talent through his body to absorb the blows, but every hit depleted his reserves further and further. A blow to the gut bent him over, the air escaping from his lips, a sweeping kick to the face putting him on the floor once again. He lay there for a moment, bloodied and exhausted, as Fahroul paced around him, like a cat playing with a captive mouse.

“Do you see now, Ferez? This was never a fair contest. Though I’ll admit, I haven’t needed to remove my self-imposed limits in quite some time, so kudos for that. I’ll remember you for years to come.”

Ferez groaned and coughed up blood. He frowned and felt his ribs, but they weren’t broken yet. Some stray Umbral energies must have gotten through and caused haemorrhaging in his lungs. It was a bad sign, and not just because coughing up blood is usually a bad sign in and of itself, but because it meant the energy from Fahroul’s attacks had started leaking past his defences. He had one last chance to end this fight, or else he was finished.

He clambered to his feet, dagger still clenched tightly in his hand, and faced the gloating hitman.

“You won’t remember me at all, scum. Because you’ll be dead!” he said, charging at the shade, the dagger held above his head.

Gods, let this work!

*

Fahroul shook his head and disappeared, reappearing behind the fire mage with his fist raised, a jagged lance of pure destructive energy protruding from the knuckles.

Then he stopped.

And frowned.

The lance wavered and petered out. He tried to re-summon it, but the shadows refused his call. He tried to move and realised he was rooted to the spot. The only thing left he could control was his eyes. His gaze slid from the back of Ferez’s head, down past his nape and along the outstretched arm to the dagger embedded in Fahroul’s chest, above his heart.

Ferez turned his head, a tired smile on his face.

“I wasn’t sure that would work.”

Fahroul flickered, his shadows being sucked into the weapon. In a panic, he opened the floodgates on his Talent pool, pouring every ounce of strength he had into maintaining his form, but every scrap of Talent was sucked straight into the Resonance Ore.

He could feel it, then. The hunger. He had always thought Resonance Ore a tool, a material to be moulded and used, fundamentally no different from steel or brick or wood. But no, there was something there, beneath the surface. Not a sentient presence, but something primal. A force. And it was feeding on him.

His reserves ran dry. He could feel himself reverting, starting from his extremities. First his fingers and toes, then hands and feet, then limbs. He felt the eerie sensation of the change rippling through his skull, exposing his terrified expression to the smug bastard holding the knife.

“Ferez,” he whispered, his voice weak and ragged. It was all his half-reformed lungs could manage. “Fuck… you…”

The reversion completed with his final syllable, his heart reforming and beating once, then stopping, as though confused by the obstruction splitting it down the centre. The dark surged in from the edges of Fahroul’s vision, his eyes dulling forever as he heard laughter that was definitely not human.

*

Ferez and Ingrid stood beside each other, surveying as the clan rebuilt the shattered hall. The battle had ended quickly after Fahroul’s death. Leo had rallied the clan during the duel and put Harald’s clan to flight with horrendous casualties. For all intents and purposes, they were no more. It had been a bittersweet victory, though. Blase and Windshear had both escaped, scared off by the magic unleashed around them. The Jarl still sobbed into his mead from time to time, and Leo had spent half the day wandering the forest with the whistle, trying to call his griffon back. The two men had bonded over the loss of their precious pets, though Ferez idly wondered if that bond would hold if he ever found out Leo had killed his son.

Worse than the loss of the animals, though, had been the loss of human life. The fighting had been fierce and bloody, and the funeral pyre after had been the largest in the region for centuries. It would take time for Clan Steinhaut to recover, if they could at all.

But! Ferez thought cheerfully. That’s not our problem!

He turned and looked at Ingrid, her features hard, as though chiselled from stone, while she watched her old clan work. A gust of wind tossed her hair back, exposing her perfect face, the flecks of snow caught in her lashes startling against the backdrop of vivid woad.

“You really are the most beautiful woman in the world,” Ferez said, unable to help but smile. Ingrid looked at him, eyes widening and lips parting in her surprise. She regained her composure and turned back to the scene before her.

“Where did that come from?” she asked. Ferez knew her well enough to tell she was forcing the cold tone into her voice.

“I just thought it, so I said it,” he replied, wrapping an arm around her shoulder. “Now we’re to be married, I figured I should let you know more often. Keep the romance alive.” He kissed her head, and she stiffened in his arms before gently pulling away.

“Ferez, I know we needed the dagger- “

“I would marry you in a heartbeat, regardless of the knife,” Ferez interrupted with a smile. She just needed some reassurance that this was genuine, and not because of the dowry.

Ingrid took a deep breath. “But I wouldn’t you.”

Ferez felt his reality shatter, fragmenting into a million tiny pieces.

“What?”

“I’m sorry, Ferez. Believe me when I say I really do love you, but this was never supposed to be permanent.”

“How can you say that? After everything we’ve been through, the years we’ve spent together?”

Ingrid flinched like she’d been struck. “I know. And this breaks my heart too, but being here, seeing this,” she gestured at the village, then dropped her hand limply to her side, staring at the snow-covered ground. “You changed me, Ferez. In one respect, my father was right. You have made me soft. Compassionate and caring. Loving. All things that are enviable traits where you come from, but up here? They must be tempered by strength. I defined myself by my strength, the strength to defy my father, to strike out on my own, to break with the colleges and forge my own fate. To stand on my own. And then you came along, and now I can’t stand without you there by my side.”

She looked at him, that same smile when she asked him to marry her flashing across her face. And then it was gone.

“I will not compromise who I am, Ferez. For anybody. Not even you.”

Ferez’s knees buckled, and he sank to the ground, his eyes glassy and unfocussed. “What… what will you do?”

She looked down at him, contempt and pity warring across her face. “Well, we just killed the man who was to be heir, and the clan has been gutted. Even many of the survivors will never swing an axe in battle again. I will do my duty and assume my birthright as heir apparent. I’ll use my strength to rebuild Clan Luftfaust until we’re the most powerful in Skjar.” She crouched down and cupped his cheek.

“Maybe then, I’ll be me enough to survive being with you.”

She stood up and turned away from him, striding towards the hall with confident, unfaltering steps, leaving Ferez sitting in the cold snow, his heart sinking through his bowels. He barely reacted as a harsh screech filled the air and Windshear slammed into the ground beside him.

“Ferez! Look who I finally found! I knew she didn’t go far!” Leo devolved into baby babble noises as he scratched the bird’s ear hole. He stopped when Ferez didn’t reply.

“Buddy, you alright? What happened?”

He slid off the griffon, his footsteps crunching through the snow until he was standing beside his companion. He sank down onto his haunches, looking back over the hall.

Looking back at Ingrid re-joining her people.

“Break up, huh?”

Ferez didn’t answer. He couldn’t. Pit, he couldn’t even bring himself to move.

“Ah, shit, Ferez,” Leo said, sitting beside the fire mage. He let the silence stretch between them for a few minutes before he started talking again, just letting his friend process what had happened. “You know, we mages live long lives. Our work, hopes, dreams and aspirations can’t be measured by the same metrics as those of mere mortals. It’s the same with our relationships. You’re still young, so you might not understand this yet, but one day you will. We forge bonds that can last centuries. We come together, and break apart and come together again. And sometimes we break apart and don’t come together. But even that pain softens with time, and becomes part of the rich tapestry of our lives that makes for the kind of epic tales that are committed to books by our successors.”

Ferez blinked, his eyes slowly coming back into focus as he turned to Leo.

“Wait… what the fuck was that? It sounded… wise.”

Leo chuckled and leaned back, propping himself up on his elbows. “Wish I could take the credit, but I totally stole it. It’s a piece of advice I got from an old mentor back in the day.”

“That makes a lot more sense. Did he give any advice on what to do while I’m waiting for time’s inexorable march to numb the pain?”

“Na, but don’t worry, I’ve got that covered,” Leo said, climbing to his feet and offering a hand to Ferez. “On your feet, Red Death. Let’s go get drunk!”