The sun was reaching for the horizon when Alec finally showed up at the tower. Iago did not reveal any outward sign of relief, but Scorpius was certain he must have felt it. They needed every pair of hands if they wanted to make it through. Something he was still doubtful about.

It was easy to say they were going for it, and a whole another to actually succeed.

He was glad they were making the attempt, but that did not make him happy about their chances. They were abysmal in the most positive light. Utterly impossible in any other. They were trying to subdue a forest fire with a match.

At least they were doing it. Since Iago was adamant on not backing out and running away, this was the best solution. Win or loss, they wouldn’t have to live in constant terror. Scorpius was sick of worry of the last night alone. He couldn’t sleep for a moment, knowing that Mistress must be plotting another way to kill Iago.

It was better to just deal with it.

“Are you ready?” Iago asked softly.

Scorpius checked for the item in his pocket and nodded. His heart beat faster as he thought about what awaited everyone. Him too. Maybe most of all. If he failed… No, he wouldn’t think of it. They were going to win. Or die in the trying.

“Ready for what?” Alec asked, looking around the silent room.

Following his gaze, Scorpius noted the hunched shapes by the door. Lyra and Denni were standing by the entrance, leaning next to each other. They looked like they were whispering to one another, but neither opened her mouth to speak. Words had run out some time ago.

Before Iago could answer, a person burst through the door. Grey grinned at them, flashing his white teeth. “I knew I was going to find you here! No way you were just going to accept it!” His look was reserved for Iago alone.

“You!” Alec burst out. “What are you doing here? No, I don’t care! Leave now! Go back!”

He tried to forcefully push the youth out of the room, but Grey evaded his grasping hands and darted towards Iago.

“Grey…” Alec growled, his voice thick with fury.

“No!” the young soldier replied, standing his ground. He glanced at Iago and not seeing any reprimand there, plunged on. “No, I won’t! I won’t go back! If Master is going, I will follow him!”

“That-”

Iago cut Alec off. “It doesn’t matter,” he said with a faint shake of his head. “It’s not gonna be any safer with the other survivors. It might even be better with us.”

“What do you mean?”

“Cyana is going to send her nobles to quell the rebellion. They might all be idiots but they’ve been trained with the sword. It won’t be easy for the survivors to resist them.”

Alec jumped from the news, dashing towards the doors. “Then we must go and help them! What are you thinking leaving everyone to fight trained swordsman with nothing but wooden stakes, stones and metal bars!”

“You’re overreacting,” Iago said in a dismissing tone. “They have Mark and his gang, there’s no need to worry. Us on the other hand, we’re going to face Commander. He’s the greatest disgrace of the kingdom, but his swordsmanship has never come into question.”

“Commander?” Lyra asked, her face going pale.

The shaper inclined his head, a thoughtful expression on his face. “I’m certain you four will be able to hold him back for long enough.”

“What about you two?” Denni asked, pointing at Iago and Scorpius.

“I’ll have Mistress to contend with. Don’t think for a moment I’ll have any attention to spare for you.”

That was easily accepted by everyone. They were more than aware how inferior his power was to hers. The mere fact that he dared to challenge her was a sign of great courage.

Or stupidity.

But Scorpius wasn’t here to judge. He checked himself to make sure he had everything and went to the door. “Shall we start?” he asked, his throat dry. Embarrassed, he noticed that his hand on the door was quivering slightly.

He quickly pulled it back and hid within the folds of his thick cloak. Out of sight, out of mind, he told himself the old saying. It was going to be fine.

Iago glanced through the window and noting the sun’s position agreed. “Yeah, let’s move out.”

“What’s the plan?” Alec asked Lyra quietly. Since the moment he entered, no one had explaining to him what exactly they were doing and they were already moving out.

His friend shrugged. “I don’t know. He just told us to wait for you.”

“He thought I will come?”

“He was certain of it,” she answered, with her head bent. She walked without raising it.

Alec left her alone and fell back a few steps. He looked at the front where Iago was striding forward with confident steps. Grey was right behind him, his blade already out. It caught the setting sun’s light, and Alec shut his eyes to protect them from the flash.

Right before him were the two girls. They walked quickly and without a word shared.

Wait, that meant they were missing one. He turned his head backwards but there was no one there either. Where did Scorpius go? He was here just a moment ago!

A strangely familiar sound distracted him. It were the shouts of people, a certified roaring from a square ahead of them. Rounding a corner, he saw all kinds of makeshift weapons raised in anger. The survivors were waving wooden furniture legs and metal staves. A few had found real weapons and those shined brilliantly in the sun’s light.

Alec was sure a few screams were from injured people from all that brandishing of weapons. But before he could ascertain the fact and rush to help the hurt person, the crowd had moved and hidden him from sight. Previously, he’d have never thought that around 30 people were many, but he was quickly changing his beliefs.

This amount was more than enough. When his group reached the survivors, they had come up with a new tactic. Since the gates were locked, the stronger ones started battering them while the rest picked up stones to throw. Their power was nowhere near enough to reach the mansion with the projectiles but it was enough to enrage the inhabitants.

Soon, the well-dressed servant came out to shout at the mob to disperse. He said it in a formal, absolutely certain of himself manner. A stone landed straight on his forehead for the effort. The man staggered, clutching his head, and fell.

Other stones followed after, and the man crawled away with his face and hands red. Jeers and hoots pushed him onwards once the stones could no longer reach. The crowd was in an ecstasy. Everyone was congratulating one another and shouting at the top of their lungs, waving whatever weapons they had in joy.

But their celebration did not last long. Commander opened the mansion’s doors and his large frame silenced the riot like a smothering hand. Suddenly the people remembered who they were facing. This giant master swordsman, how exactly were they planning to defeat him?

Before the whole drive could be lost, Mark went forward with his small squad. “Come with me, my friends! It’s our day today! Or will you let them slaughter your children just like that?”

It was completely out of the man’s character, but the crowd did not pay attention to it. His words reignited their anger, reminding them why they were fighting. That there was no choice of backing out for them. They would succeed or they would all die.

Alec wanted to follow after, but Iago held him back. “Wait.”

“What for? We need to help them!”

The shaper shook his head. “No. Wait for now. We’ll go once they’re fully entangled in the melee.”

As he said that, more people came to join Commander. They were the servants of the house. They were untrained, no better than the survivors in a fight, but they kept Commander from being surrounded and picked at from all sides.

Two minutes later, Iago motioned for them to proceed. He led them slightly to the side, avoiding the thickness of the battle.

People were screaming there. Out of pain, rather than anger or joy this time. Commander was named the best fighter for a reason. Even though Mark and his group were good, they could only barely control him. Anyone that got in the way were cut down without consideration. By either side.

Choking down the disgust, Alec turned away. This was the right choice, he told himself. He had to help Iago defeat Mistress. Even if they won against Commander, but Mistress remained, they’d have no peace. She’ll kill them all for raising up against her. He was fully aware of her volatile temper from his visits to the mansion with Iago.

No one blocked their way and they entered through the main doors of the mansion. The place was eerily quiet, only their boots and the echo of outside fighting disturbing the silence.

Late evening sun coloured everything in shades of red. It forced Alec to think of the blood that was going to be spilt this day. Just how many would make it through today?

Iago led them with a sure step. There was no way to tell if he felt the fear and apprehension drowning Alec. Probably not. This was the man’s choice. The shaper had come up with this plan himself. Where others raised up because of emotion, or being pushed into it, Iago had chosen this for himself.

Mistress hadn’t dared to attack him after all. Alec had no idea why she was so furious for the leech being killed, but she didn’t care that Iago was part of it. She only wanted to teach the survivors a lesson. Not her precious friend, possibly the only male shaper left alive.

Why did Iago do this then? Alec tried to recall all he knew about Iago but could not figure it out. Sure the man was weaker than Mistress, and disliked that fact. He found her dangerous and unstable. But was that enough to risk everything just like this? Wouldn’t it be safer for him to just wait for a better chance?

When he at least would be in full strength.

Although Iago faked being fine, there was no way to hide his diminishing strength. His body betrayed him. The sunken cheeks, hollowed eyes. Papery thin skin. He was disappearing right in front of everyone’s eyes.

They were close. Alec recognised the corridor leading into the dining hall. He put his hand on the blade and gripped it tightly. This was it. The final showdown.

Iago stepped through the doors, a wooden stick held in a death grip. His body trembled from excitement and fear. He was such a fool. What was he thinking, challenging the greatest shaper in the world’s history with his meagre power?

He smiled wryly. Last time he had nothing, and that hadn’t stopped him. So why was this that much different?

Cyana sat in her place at the head of the table on the other side of the room. She wore a deep crimson dress that hugged her in a way that revealed her perfect physique. In a court she would have never dared to wear something as outrageous, but here? Why not?

He walked closer to her, his ragtag bunch behind him. Would they be able to hold back the nobles? There were ten of those, and only three of them. Terrible odds. But his die was cast. He resisted the urge to glance back and assure them that it was going to be all right.

Like hell it was going to be. This was Cyana they were facing.

“It’s nice to see you’ve prepared a welcoming party,” he said, motioning at the food on the table and the restless nobles around it. They were eyeing him with open disgust and revulsion. Not that keen on his dirty and used sandy cloak, apparently.

“What are you wearing?” Mistress herself asked, puckering her lips. “Couldn’t you find something more fitting?”

“I wished to come as I am. Thought you’d appreciate the sincerity.”

Her lips curled in disdain. “So you’ve lied. You’re a filthy commoner.”

Iago laughed. Deep and throaty. He shook with mirth, holding himself up only with the help of the staff. Filthy commoner. Now that was a good joke.

He straightened after some time, still chuckling slightly. Uncaring of the glare piercing him like a blade.

“What’s so funny?” she breathed out through clenched teeth, furious. Her face twisted with the emotion into an undignified scowl.

“Just your words,” Iago answered, a bright grin on his face. Time to end this masquerade. With every minute it was more likely that Mark would lose, or let Commander escape and it would be all over. Alec with his few helpers could never hold back the nobles along with that trained warrior.

They were just too weak. Lacking years of training and experience.

“Kill them!” Mistress shouted out, pointing a finger at Iago’s group. Then she added, “Try to leave him alive. But if he resists… its his own fault.” She smiled sweetly.

Iago returned her smile and blasted most of his power forward. The currents surged, refusing then following. They were attracted to Mistress but her hold over them was non-existent. She did not practise the use of wild currents. It was too dangerous and risky.

So Iago’s attack killed five nobles before she could retaliate. It wasn’t exactly fighting back but sending a killing wave towards him. It clashed against the ones he’d sent out and exploded. Almost right into his face.

He staggered and would have fallen if Alec hadn’t caught him. “You okay?” the young soldier asked with worry in his voice.

It mattered not if he was all right. Iago pushed himself up, wavered, then caught his balance. The remaining nobles were almost upon them, having regained their bearings much faster than Iago. He cursed and waved for his group to intercept them.

“Go!” he ordered them, then jumped in front of the fighting men. Right into Mistress’ attack. She tried to redirect her power at the last moment but that wasn’t how shaping worked. There was no recalling your order from the current that was already sent out to do your bidding.

He watched the upcoming death and right before it touched him, activated his pendant. Wind rose around him in a howling rage. He only hoped he was far enough away from everyone that it didn’t clip them. There was no controlling this ancient artefact once it was activated. It shaped to dust everything that came into contact with him and that was it. No fine control here.

Holding onto the pendant, he walked forward. It was almost impossible to see through the raging wind about him but he thought he glimpsed wide-eyed horror on Cyana’s face. Then insurmountable power smashed into him.

His step faltered. Just how strong was she?

The pendant in his hand vibrated, and he noticed a small crack appearing on the side. Now it was time for his eyes to jump out of their sockets. If the artefact broke… This couldn’t happen!

Iago steadied himself and started moving forward against the onslaught of power. One painful step at a time.

It was lucky that the pendant didn’t use his shaping ability, or he’d be dead by now. A sobering thought.

Then again, previously he had no shaping, couldn’t even see the currents so it was only normal that his trinket didn’t require the talent to be activated. He wondered for a second where Kallum had found it.

Cyana’s power rammed into him, stronger than before, and he had to forgo his idle musings. This was no time to dwell on the past. The pendant was turning his life force into the power protecting him, but it wouldn’t last for long.

Not with his diminished energy. If he was at his best… But that was not the case now. He had to hurry.

But pushing against Cyana’s power was similar to walking against a storm. You could move. Slightly. If you were using everything you had. But was that really enough?

He had no idea how to judge his life force, but he was weakening. Quickly. There was still a third of the room left towards Cyana, but he was no longer moving. Half a step forwards, and a minute of rest. By the time he reached her, he’d be dead from exhaustion. Literary.

Yet there was nothing he could do. Just clenching his teeth and pushing forwards. Millimetre after millimetre.

This was his life goal. He couldn’t just drop down and give up. It wasn’t a choice. Not for him. Not after what he had done. It was too horrible to comprehend.

He shut his mind and took another half step forwards. Then got pushed back. Farther than he had went forwards.

“No!” he screamed out, collecting the residue of his power and ramming forwards. He took two steps. Another. And fell. Exhausted beyond the point of comprehension. All he could think of was lying down and closing his eyes. It would be so easy.

But he couldn’t do that. Not now. Not when she was so close.

How does one stands up?

The winds raged around him, draining more and more. Should he call them back? The pendant was about to break into pieces anyway. Another few moments and it would shatter, unable to hold against the insistent power.

“It’s over!” came a gleeful voice from outside the wind cocoon. Was he that close? Or was the defensive shield so thin already? Latter more likely. Iago smiled wryly to himself. In the end, he wasn’t strong enough. Not back then, not now. His calculations were always just one step short of reality.

And so many people paid the price. Last time… And now… The amounts were different but what did it matter? Since when could life be calculated in numbers? Was one worthier than the other? He was a shitty leader and that was it. Those who followed him only ever ended up dead.

There was a strange sound. A short scuffle and then silence. A terrible shriek.

Unable to hold the shield active, Iago cut off the power supply and painfully raised his head. Before him stood Cyana, staring at him with pure undiluted terror into his face. For a moment he didn’t understand what was wrong with her. Then he noticed the gleam of something green on her.

The green metal choker was tightly secured around her neck. She tugged at it with desperation born of fear but it only burned her fingers. No shaper could take it off by himself. Only another person, shaper or not could free the victim from its power.

Scorpius had done it! Iago couldn’t believe his own eyes. It was done! He had done it! Cyana was locked, no powers to call upon. She was even weaker than a normal person for having been relying on her shaping for so long. A hundred year old hag.

The shaping didn’t disappear, what’s done couldn’t be returned to what it once was so she looked as young as ever. But Iago knew better. He knew her since childhood. He’d been around for that hundred years when she hired the best shapers to renew her appearance. Afraid to use her own powers as she lacked precision.

Grinning, he slowly pulled himself upwards and staggered towards Cyana. She retreated form his advance until her back hit the wall. Iago ignored her actions and pushed himself to go forth. In the corner of his eyes, he saw Scorpius watching him with concern.

He shook his head to keep him back and finally reached Cyana. She cowered before him, not even able to put on an act of bravery. Without her power - she was nothing. Absolutely nothing.

Poor little girl. Iago drew up his staff and slammed it sideways beneath her chin, raising her head. Met her terrified stare. There were tears in her eyes.

She choked on her breath, then found her voice. No more than a whisper. “Why? Why?” It was a whine. And grated on his nerves.

Iago’s hand shook as he pulled the staff higher, forcing her to go on her tiptoes to not break the jaw. “You ask why?” he said with a slight smile. But there was nothing happy or kind about it. Venom dripped from his voice in torrents. “Don’t you recognise me?”

Her eyes quickly took in his appearance: dishevelled greying red hair, green eyes, a crystal earring in one ear, but none of these feature brought a moment of realisation. She had no idea who this stranger before her was, and what he wanted.

“Haha!” he laughed like a madman, head raised upwards. She really didn’t know. Didn’t have the slightest inkling. “Dear sister,” he whispered in her ear, “is it that easy to forget me? I thought you’d remember your favourite toy for a bit longer.”

He laughed again when her face twisted with recognition mixed with disbelief.

“Impossible! You cannot be him! You don’t look anything alike!”

“Don’t I?” he asked, with mirth in his voice. But before he could add more, a voice from below caught his attention.

“Release Lady Cyana or this trash dies!”

It was one of the nobles. He was holding Scorpius’ kid to himself, a sharp sword to his neck. The boy struggled at first and the man hit him strongly to shut him up. Scorpius screamed in fury, ready to dash forwards but the noble shouted out, “Stop! One step and he dies!” The nosferatu could do nothing but freeze mid-motion. He might be fast, but the noble stood on the other side of the hall. There would be just enough time for him to slit the boy’s throat before being killed.

“Now release Lady Cyana! I won’t repeat it again! Release her or this brat will die!”

Iago watched the man with an indifferent heart. What did another sacrifice mean in the grand scheme of things? He’d probably killed a dozen people already with his scheme today. And before? He destroyed the whole world to clean it from his family. What did another innocent life matter with numbers like his?

The path to the deepest and darkest pits of hell had been paved for him ages ago. No, not paved for him. He’d done it himself. One innocent soul at a time. How many people where there in the world? Hard to count? Well that’s how deep his sins went. It didn’t matter if he added one more.

At least he’d do what he should have done long ago.

He turned away from the noble, back to Cyana, and grinned at her flabbergasted face. She hadn’t thought he’d do that. Disbelief shone clear on her young face. The b*tch.

He rammed his staff into her neck, and she choked, grabbing his staff in an attempt to push him back. Unsurprisingly, she succeeded. She stared at herself, amazed. Was about to smile triumphantly.

Iago shaped her arteries closed. “It’s only right that you die from you own power, wouldn’t you think so?” he asked.

Her face betrayed her utter shock. “Elecar…” she whispered, reaching for him but her hands lacked the strength. Her legs faltered beneath her and she fell. Face first.

The heavy thump echoed through the stunned silence in the hall.

Then voices rose. Someone screamed, another cried out in pain. Or was it sorrow?

Iago couldn’t care less. He crumpled to the ground after his sister, his life’s work finished. He could finally sleep now. Rest after all those years of torture and suffering. The last member of his family was finally dead.

For the first time that day, a genuine smile touched his lips.

It was all over.