The sword did not pierce his flesh.

Orenda pulled back and tried again, but her body fought her, and the sword paused before it would slide under the stone.

I have chosen this vessel for my master. The sword said. No harm shall come to my vessel.

“Fight through it!” Klin grabbed the blade with his hands, and Orenda watched as protective gauntlets sprang up, to keep him from hurting himself, “It’s not… It’s hard. Just put the pointy end under the stone and pry it out, ok? Then it’ll... it’ll all be over.”

He guided the blade to the exact place Orenda would need it to carve out his heart, and she pushed with all her strength.

The sword would not move.

Stop it, master, please! The sword begged. Can’t you see how much this hurts me?

“Klin,” Ruvean said seriously, “Stop.”

“Just push,” Klin stared up at Orenda with tears in his eyes, “Please just… just push!”

Orenda stared into the eyes of the boy, full of more pain than she could comprehend, and thought of everything he had done. She thought of her father, of how she was holding the sword that had ended his life. She thought of her grandfather, and of how his blood had splattered on her children. She thought of the boy in front of her, staring at blood-stained children, realizing what he had done, and wondered if Gareth had misremembered.

She wondered if the Emerald Knight had given him an order. Or if a broken boy had been pleading with him to get away from him, to escape the madness.

Klin was a monster. He had done so many horrible things that he did not deserve forgiveness.

So she threw her entire bodyweight into the sword.

And it would not move.

“Goddamn it!” Klin threw himself against the wall and the gauntlets fell away, “It’s my body! It’s my body and I can cut it up if I want to!” His eyes began to glow with a soft green light, and his voice was much more stable when it said, “I will not allow harm to come to my vessel! Stop fighting! I have given you everything! The girl, the crown, the glory, the power, the empire!” Klin grabbed his head and buried his face in his hands as he began to cry, and Orenda knew his eyes were blue when he said, “I didn’t… I never… I don’t want… I’m a monster! I just wanted… I just wanted her to love me and… and you didn’t… you never gave me… I don’t… I don’t deserve… I can’t… Magnus was right about you.”

Orenda stared down at the sword and drew her staff.

“Perhaps I can set him on fire,” She reasoned.

“I’m sorry!” Klin screamed, pulling his hair out by the roots, “I’m sorry. You’re right. I’m sorry… I can’t… I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry.”

Orenda didn’t hear any voices that time, and had no idea who he was talking to. She wasn’t particularly interested in his madness anyway, because she was more concerned with the fact that the staff still had no magic flowing through it.

“You still don’t work!” She accused.

You have no need of a focus, master. The staff said. You have, within you, the power of a god.

“You told me you would work if I got the artifact!” Orenda accused.

I never said that, master. The staff sounded hurt, insulted. I said that I would grant you power, not that it would come from me. I told you that I was weak. I have been confined by the demon Magnus. I am a prisoner. I can do nothing.

The demon locked us away. The sword said. I cannot escape, either. Klin has been my only comfort these long eons of imprisonment. I don’t know why he speaks so harshly of me. I have never been anything but kind to him.

I saw Lapus. The staff said. He has been freed. He walks Xren.

How!?

“Is Lapus one of you?” Orenda asked, “Are you djinn? Can we get you out?”

“Don’t listen to them!” Klin dried his eyes on his sleeve.

“That seems to be a problem for future Rendy, at any rate.” Orenda replaced the staff on her back, turned from him and began walking down the hall.

“Where are you going?” Klin pushed himself off the wall and began to follow after her, along with Anilla and Ruvean.

“I hate to tell you this, as you seem to have a rather high opinion of yourself,” Orenda told him, “But you’re an arrow. I came here to confront the archer.”

“I… what?” Klin said.

“I am the Chosen Child of Thesis,” Orenda told him, “I have a claim to the throne, by Divine Right. I am the granddaughter of the high priestess of the Sacred Mountain Temple, so I also have a claim by Birthright, according to your people’s stupid laws. I demand the annexation of the fire continent, or I will take it in Right by Combat!”

“You can’t try to kill my wife!” Klin told her, “Give me my sword back!”

“No,” Orenda said, “Anyone who has tried to touch the staff has been injured by it, so I assume this sword works the same way. It isn’t yours. It belongs to the Chosen One.”

“I am the Chosen One,” Klin said as he caught up to her and began to walk in front of her, backwards. “You can’t… I won’t let you hurt the princess!”

“She isn’t a princess, you idiot!” Orenda snapped at him, “She’s an Empress. And she’s a big girl. I’m sure she doesn’t need some sniveling child who can’t hold a sword to fight her battles for her!”

“I’m not a child,” Klin said, “I’m more than three centuries old. That stone makes you… not grow… anymore.”

“It must have also stopped your brain from developing,” Orenda pushed him to the side and continued down the hallway.

“You can’t just shove the Emerald Knight out of your way!” Ruvean said.

“He’s welcome to try to stop me!” Orenda yelled as she turned a corner and descended a staircase, moving toward what she thought must be the grand hall.

“Why are you letting me wield you?” Orenda asked the sword as she walked, “I know you could hurt me, if you wanted. I’m sure that’s how it works.”

Don’t flatter yourself. The sword said. You aren’t wielding me. You couldn’t use a sword if your life depended on it. You have no idea what to do with me. I’m letting you carry me because… they are really bad for each other.

“Who?” Orenda asked.

Klin and Xandra. The sword explained. She has been using him since the night he drew me. She stole the heart of the guardian at the Sacred Mountain temple, and it rejected her. It would have burned her to death. I don’t know why it chose not to. Yet still Klin went, again and again, until he found the water stone. She was allowed to use it, but she was not chosen.

“Why did you let him quest for those things?” Orenda asked.

We must gather the heart of our master, to awaken the great god Thesis. The sword said. Klin was deceived by the demon Magnus. You may be our only hope. We can unite all of elvenkind. We can restore you to your former greatness. There will be no need for more wars, there will be peace and plenty, a return to paradise. Xandra has tainted that dream, tained Klin’s innocence. The Emerald Knight should be a savior. The Crimson Mage will be a savior. You are no warrior.

“They were trying to unite… they didn’t unite anything,” Orenda said as she walked, “That empire is not a sign of unity.”

Peace through tyranny does not work. The sword agreed. You are not a tyrant. You are a scholar. Klin loves this girl. He will mourn. But he needs to be rid of her. You will be the one to awaken the demigorge and reunite all elvenkind under the will of Thesis. You can become perfect, again, all of you. Like the ones you call high elves. You can create a paradise.

“Is that what you told Klin?” Orenda asked.

Klin did not listen.

“Give me my sword back!” Klin came sprinting down the stairs, “Stop it!”

“Shut up!” Orenda told him, “I- It has been a trying day, Klin!” She spat his name at him, “I will not be given orders by- don’t pretend that you, of all people, have any right to tell me what to do! I want you to understand something, right here, right now! I never knew my parents. And the only person I met from that family abandoned me. I don’t care about the Firefists! I did not come here as a Firefist to fight for the dead who were, from all accounts, foolish, arrogant people who, honestly, probably could not have raised me any better than I raised myself!”

It was the first time Orenda had ever admitted this, even to herself. She had kept these thoughts locked away in the back of her mind, had kept them away, out of a fear of confronting them, and a desire to respect the dead. When she was a child, she had told herself that her parents were royalty, and she was allowed to be disappointed that they were not. She was allowed to be disappointed that her father was no king, that he was a child who had lived only to please his parents, a fool who gave into panic, that as an adult he had made unbelievably stupid decisions that had caused the very life she had had to endure. She was allowed to be angry that her mother had denied her existence in a way that could have killed them both, because no one could be that foolish- Sokomaur would not have gone into battle if she had cared about the child she was carrying. Neither of her parents could have loved her. To them, she was an idea, an excuse, or a terrible thing to deny.

She had a right to be angry at the hand she had been dealt, at the terrible things they had done to her, when they could have stayed safe, could have hidden her, could have cared about her. She had to admit that they had done horrible things before she could forgive them, before she could move on with her life.

Orenda Nochdifache was an orphan.

She always had been, and she always would be.

And half remembered stories of foolish people doing brazen things would not change that, and would not give her a family. The past could not be changed, but that did not make it right. She felt the full fury of the anger she had never allowed herself, that she had denied so that reality would be more palatable, but that she would deny no longer.

Orenda was tired of lying to herself.

“I have come here to free the people you have in bondage! I fight for the living! And honestly, you pathetic little fool, I don’t know what happened to you, and I don’t care. Rest assured that when this is over I will find a way to kill you for the horrible things you’ve done. But right now, you aren’t my problem. So do not make yourself my problem. I can’t kill you yet, but I would probably be amazed to learn what you have lived through, the pain you can endure. Do. Not. Push. Me. I don’t think you’re used to this- but I am not afraid of you. I have never been afraid of you. You aren’t what I expected, but I expected nothing. I never believed the stories I heard about you, and I have never been afraid of you, you sniveling, whimpering, child!”

“Then you’re a fool,” Klin told her, “I’ve killed four gods. You should be scared of me.”

“I believe that,” Orenda said, “I doubt there is a person on the planet who I could trust more on the subject of foolishness. You seem to be very learned on the subject.”

“Thesis’s glowing eyes,” Klin said. He was so taken aback he had stopped walking.

“It’s just been a really bad day,” Anilla said to him.

“What are you even doing here?” Klin asked her.

“I’m looking for a dragon,” Anilla told him as they walked, “In my tribe-”

“I know,” Klin cut her off. He was staring at her in a strange way that should have been unnerving, knowing who he was. “Your soulmate thing. Does it… does it have to be a dragon?”

He saw Orenda turn a corner and disappear into a servant’s hall, and he picked up the pace to run after her.