“Well, you certainly took your time, didn’t you?" Ramin? sneered, flipping her brown hair back with her hand. "Making me of all people wait for you ought to be a punishable act.”

  “Everything with you would be a punishable act." Tēlēmid said. "The only difference between you and the Demi-King is he was charismatic enough to grow an army.”

  Ramin? responded with an elbow to his stomach. As he hunched over and clutched at his gut, Tēlēmid sniffed the air and turned to Red.

  “Is that you, Red? What is that?”

  “Um, scent of certine.” Red said sheepishly.

  “Certines are delicious—it suits you, Red.” Tēlēmid smiled and sniffed the air exaggeratedly.

  “Oh thanks.” Red said. Though Tēlēmid often was the exception to such rules, Red wasn’t used to being at the forefront of others’ attention.

  “Certines are the cornerstone of peasant cuisine: it certainly does suit you.” Ramin? smirked.

  “You’re just jealous because nobody cares for that pungent perfume you’re always dousing yourself in.” Tel teased.

  “How could you care for something that exists beyond your lout sensibilities?" Ram retorted. "It’s akin to asking vermin for their opinion on the fine arts.”

  “Can you two settle down? We have more pressing matters to attend to, you know.” Isold? said frankly, leading the party forward with her first step. When the armor came on, Isold? was focused on the mission above all else; it was an admirable trait, if not a little disappointing for Red, considering how they’d spent their night.

  “Finally, one of you is speaking sensibly.” Ram said, following Isold?.

  “What’s your take on it, Iso? Certines or frou-frou fragrance number one?” Tel asked, following the three.

  “My take is that we have the dictator that’s turned all of Alvariche upside-down, cornered and trapped in that tower over there. So let’s table the chatter for after he’s brought to his knees.” Isold? responded plainly once again.

  “Come on, Iso.”

  “Tel,” Isold? hushed Tel and marched onward.

  Just as silence overtook the party, Isold? stopped. “I think Ram’s right in that my simple tastes can’t properly appreciate her complex perfume. That said, I love certines.”

  Isold? muttered as they continued walking. A natural-born leader, her answer satisfied both sides of the discussion with both Ram and Tel quietly basking in their vindication. And beyond them was Red, trailing behind the party so no one might notice her blushing. As the spire grew closer in sight, the chatter picked back up.

  “Do we even know what this guy is supposed to look like?” Tēlēmid asked, checking the count of arrows in his quiver for the umpteenth time.

  “We’ve seen him before, ridinr?.” Ramin? responded, doing her best to avoid mud on the path.

  “I feel like I’d remember that.”

  “Ramin?’s right, Tēlēmid." Isold? said as she marched. "It was back in Kalos, though it was only for a moment.”

  “He was on the galleon, right?" Red chirped in from the rear. "The strange one that lacked flight.”

  “That’s right.” Isold? said.

  “Wow, look at the memory on you, Red. What’d I have for breakfast that day?”

  “The same thing you have every morning, Tel.” Red responded.

  “Right again,” Tēlēmid said with his chipper tone.

  “He didn’t look like anyone significant at the time,” Isold? said. “No special dress or identifying attire: just another faceless Nidia?an in the troop we let retreat. We were merciful.”

  “And now we pay the price.” Ramin? huffed.

  “Senseless slaughter would have done nothing but bolstered his asinine claims. When you cut a bloodletter down, it grows two heads from the stump. One Demi-King would have fallen, sure, only for several others to take his place. No, this was the way it had to end—the people needed to see him beaten at every point. They needed to see him for what he truly is: a charlatan responsible for innumerable deaths that he can never be absolved of.” Isold? said, looking up at the tower before them.

  “How many floors is that, do you think?” Tel asked, whistling at the height before them.

  “It doesn’t matter: we’re not scaling it.” Isold? said matter-of-fact. She looked at Ramin? expectantly.

  “You’re a slave driver, you know that?” Ramin? scoffed.

  She walked over to the side of the tower and extended her arms. Ramin? pulled the livēsēns in with the authority only a noble could command, glowing with a cyan aura like a lit candle. She wrote a sequence along the spire wall and hugged it with both hands.

  “Don’t tell her, but I never get tired of watching Ram do her thing.” Tēlēmid whispered to Red as the trio gave Ram some space to work.

  What was sturdy stone seemed to open up for Ramin?, her hands sinking inside the tower itself.

  “Here comes the part, she’s going to do it.” Tel smirked. Isold? scolded him to silence as Ram’s cyan aura slowly overtook the base of the tower.

  “I am Ramin? az Reza of the House Reza, the part of the sum and equal to none. I command you to fall.” Ramin? roared as the tower groaned, slowly slipping into the ground like an ice cube melting in the sun.

  Ramin?’s work was incomparable, truly. Red watched with fascination as multiple layers of livēsēns worked like separate parts of an airship to accomplish a single task. One sequence pulled the tower, another transmuted the stone into dirt, an additional layer accelerated the first, and the final separated the space around her to ensure her compatriots’ safety from any debris. When it came to the application and utilization of livēsēns and its sequences, Ramin? was truly a genius.

  The tower evaporated before the quartet’s eyes, kicking up dust as it did so. When Ramin?’s efforts were complete, little remained but an excess of dirt and a man—unprepared for the fall he'd just suffered—draped atop it.

  “All hail the king of nothing.” Ramin? sneered, an arm out to present the man like a gift to Isold?.

  “Is that him?” Tel asked, to which Red nodded.

  Isold? snapped her mace free of its holster, pointing it at the man at her feet.

  “My name is Isold? Sch?fer and I am the captain of this squad. We represent the Arms of the People. You are charged with inciting acts of violence, spreading discriminatory propaganda, genocide, and multifarious other crimes. Typically, this would be a matter of detainment until a proper trial would be had. But the powers that be have deemed you too dangerous to stand trial. In lieu of a trial, I have been given express authority to act as judge, jury, and executioner.”

  Isold?’s nose twitched as Red watched her composure slip.

  “Unfortunately for you, I’ve borne witness to many of these crimes and have deemed you guilty. Any last words?”

  “Do you know where we are?”

  His tone wasn’t pleading, vindictive, or anything of the sort: he was sorrowful. He continued speaking after gauging he’d receive no actual response, all the while grabbing fistfuls of what was once a tower, letting it catch the breeze and leave him.

  Stolen from its rightful author, this tale is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

  “This is where it all happened.”

  “Prattling of a mad man.” Ram remarked, hoisting the large shield off her back.

  “Where what happened?” Tel asked.

  “This is where Katima was slain.” The man’s voice shook as his words barely broke the silence. “The progenitor of all we know bled right at our feet and no one remembers a thing. No one weeps for them; we simply suckle at the teet of what once was. And for what? Parlor tricks and breakthroughs in lethargy. It’s a tragedy. One I aim to rectify.”

  “His eyes,” Red noted.

  The group watched as his brown eyes yellowed before them, a book in his hands as he rose from the ground.

  “It matters not. We know what we came here to do.” Isold? said as the group formed a box around him, a warrior in each corner.

  The man waved a hand laced with livēsēns over the book, causing tendrils of paper to rise out from it. Two by two, tendrils upon tendrils sprouted forth, whipping and lashing out at the nearby warriors. Ramin? deflected each strike with ease, providing time for Tēlēmid to fall back and nock an arrow. Tēlēmid stepped forward as he released it, teleporting to a different angle and piercing the Demi King’s shoulder from a blind spot.

  “Parlor tricks.” The Demi King scoffed.

  A tendril pulled the arrow out and broke it while another used its own paper to patch the hole in his flesh. A fleet of tendrils sprouted out from the book, whipping around and forcing the quartet to fall back. Not even Tēlēmid would be effective at the distance of ground they relinquished.

  “Battery formation. Now.” Isold? shouted.

  One by one, the team launched attacks at their quarry. Isold? smashed through tendrils as best she could, Tēlēmid kept some of the tendrils on the defensive as he lobbed arrows at the Demi King, Red sheared away at the corkscrews of paper with her blade, and Ramin? blocked excess strikes to keep everyone safe. The team had been fighting together for the better half of a mark at this point.

  What were once troublesome idiosyncrasies that divided them became atypical advantages under Isold?’s banner. Tēlēmid was flighty and cowardly—his signature livēsēns of teleportation reflected that—so Isold? introduced him to the bow. Tēlēmid wouldn’t need to have courage if he kept his enemies at a distance; Isold? once told Red it was easier to learn a new art than change who you are. And when Tēlēmid had a bow and arrow within his grasp, he was an artist.

  Ramin? was arrogant and headstrong with an aptitude for livēsēns application unrivaled by anyone. Ramin? would be brought to heel by no one, so Isold? didn’t bother trying. Instead, she played into Ramin?’s arrogance and made her the core of their team. Arrogance was a weapon in its own right, Isold? once told Red. Ramin? is indeed filled with hubris, but that same hubris would never let her allies come to harm. After all, what could be a more undignifying scenario?

  As for Red herself…she had no clue. Red suspected Isold? likely had similar conversations in the past with the other two and Red came up in those discussions, but she certainly never came up when Isold? spoke to her directly. Despite that, even Red could see how far they’d come.

  “You don’t stand a chance,” Red roared.

  She sprinted in on the Demi King’s tendrils. He’d grown used to warriors cutting them down or smashing them, but Red’s recklessness was a facet that came in waves, and it overtook his expectations. She brought the edge of her blade inward, close enough to cut her own nose, and ran along the tendril’s body.

  As she bisected the tendril and moved toward her target, the others immediately supported her play.

  “Go, Red, go.” Tel cheered as more of his arrows were launched overhead to divide the Demi King’s attention.

  He was swift, nocking another arrow as the previous one was launched.

  Two whips of paper swung overhead as she closed in, surely taking Red’s head off had she not dropped to her knees. Sparks flickered off her greaves while Red slid with her momentum, slowly decelerating as the unoccupied tendrils conjoined, coming down onto Red as a single drill of paper comparable to the size of the tower Ram had just felled. There was no room for panic in Red’s heart, however. The insecure, nervous girl was left behind in the tent last night, in her place was a reliable warrior who trusted her comrades.

  Red closed her eyes and took a deep breath as Ramin? dove in front of her, bearing the entire brunt of the drill with her shield. The almetal shield groaned and cracked beneath the drill’s might.

  “Don’t you buckle under this.” Ramin? shouted.

  She bolstered her shield with livēsēns, practically gluing the fractures together to withstand the attack. Her nose bled from the inevitable overuse of livēsēns, but she held fast nonetheless.

  “Hurry up, ridinr?.” Ramin? growled, ushering Red forward.

  Red kicked off the ground and kept running, finally closing back in on the Demi King.

  “This story has already been written, child.” The Demi King said as his free hand charged with livēsēns, a cyclone of flames launching out.

  The pillar of fire ignited all the tendrils as Isold? caught up to Red.

  “I was always faster than you, even with the heavier armor.” Isold? mused, despite being out of breath, as she slipped a gauntlet off her hand.

  She pricked her finger on her mace, the cyan hue of livēsēns pulling on the droplet and making it a deluge. The fire, paper, and book was doused in blood as Red leapt through the air, swinging a wide arc downward.

  The blade punctured the Demi King’s shoulder and cleaved all the way through his abdomen, cut the book in half, and stabbed into the dirt as Red’s feet hit the ground. Her heart pounded while she watched the light leave his eyes. He appeared to be gasping for air, but with the contents of his chest cavity on full display, it was clear for Red his lungs weren’t going to be delivering oxygen any time soon.

  “Is that it? It’s over?” Tel asked as the group gathered near Red.

  Red was too immersed in the gravity of their accomplishment to respond. Her eyes went back to the slain Demi King, though. His chest cavity had a strange glint to it—Red wasn’t exactly a master of discernment, but as Ramin?’s eyes traced Red’s sightline to its target, her erudition left little doubt.

  “Get down,” Ramin? shrieked.

  Red snapped her head just in time to witness Ramin? shoving Tel to the ground, an amber chain impaling her through the heart. The chain fired from a void within the Demi King’s chest cavity, which was now exuding an amber miasma. The yellow aura danced along the chain until it reached Ramin?, her audible anguish the end result.

  “No.” Red cried out.

  The very cycle of Kativazch appeared to come to a halt as Red reached for her friend, only for Ramin? to erect transparent walls of livēsēns around her.

  “No, stop. Ram.” Red screamed, tears rolling down her face as she pounded on the wall with all her might.

  Hush, ridinr?, you’re ruining my moment.

  Red’s tear-blurred eyes opened wide as she heard Ramin?’s words in her head.

  I’d meant to give it to Iso, but she’s busy.

  Red looked to her comrades: Tel was in a state of shock and Isold? was swinging her mace relentlessly at the yellow chain.

  I can see it now. What comes next is something big and I doubt you fools can handle it without Ramin? az Reza by your side. So you won’t.

  Ramin?’s words echoed in Red’s mind as she watched Ramin?’s livēsēns wash over her—she felt strong, stronger than she ever had.

  Red, can you do me a favor?

  Red turned and saw her friend’s face beyond the paper-thin, unyielding wall of livēsēns between them: she was scared.

  “Ramin?.” Red whimpered, watching the otherworldly chain cover the jewel of the Reza family in the yellow aura, eroding her before Red’s very eyes. It was as if the chain couldn’t abide the existence of whatever it touched.

  Watch over Tēlēmid, for me. That idiot, he’s lost without a kick in the rear.

  “Ramin?, I—”

  There’s no time.

  Red sobbed as her friend wore away: she was nothing but an upper torso, now.

  You have to keep fighting, Red. For everyone. Take my power and shake the heavens.

  And with those final words, Ramin? az Reza was gone, her walls of livēsēns disappearing as her essence left Kativazch altogether, apart from a flicker of her inside of Red.

  “No, no, no, no.” Tēlēmid stammered, shaking on his knees.

  “Curses, you dastard.” Isold? said, her voice breaking as she extended an arm out to her two remaining comrades.

  “You lot are powerful.” The Demi King’s words echoed around him despite his body lying still. “Rest assured, you hath indeed slain the man before you. But I am beyond death. I am beyond flesh.”

  The Demi King’s corpse slowly rose to his feet, as if the chain from his chest was pulling him up—a puppet on a single string.

  “It’s novel, in a way. I intended to slay the archer first, yet the shieldmaiden inadvertently acted beyond the script I was aware of. No matter.”

  The chain that eradicated Ramin? shot back out toward Tēlēmid.

  “No,” Isold? cried out, reaching out to stop the chain’s momentum, but it was too far.

  Before the chain met the stunned Tēlēmid, however, Red’s palm arched out to meet the master link at the end of the chain. Her body moved before she could even consider what she was doing, yet she felt it inside her soul—Ramin? urged her to meet the chain. If she was given mayhap one second more to act, the genius of the az Reza family would have known how to respond to the chain. Instead, she could only piece together the answer after the fact and pass it on to Red. The chain eroded what it came into contact with, so the solution was to never let the chain touch anything.

  “Repono?” Red muttered.

  It was more of a question than anything, but she’d seen Ramin? do it before. The livēsēns lived in Red, now: Ramin?’s legacy. Her hand was ablaze with Ramin?’s livēsēns as the impact of the chain was redirected back at the Demi King corpse. The corpse did not share an iota of pain as the chain impaled his shoulder, eroding his left arm into nothingness.

  “How did you—”

  “This isn't over.” Red cut Isold? off, grabbing Tel and lifting him to his feet.

  “Red? Ramin?…she….” Tel trailed off, tears finally falling from his eyes.

  “Hush, ridinr?.” Red responded. Tel’s eyes widened. “Ramin? would kick you in the rear if she was here. We can’t let this dastard have his way. We won’t.”

  Tēlēmid nodded, pulling another arrow from his nearly empty quiver. Tēlēmid and Isold? flanked Red as she pointed her blade back at the corpse whose eyes finally reopened and showcased the sickest shade of flaxen she’d ever seen.