Smoke rose lazily over a burning city. Blotting out the sun. A marble square lay before him. An ornate fountain stood proudly in the center of the square. In the center of a fountain a stone carving of a lady gathering water stood. A stream of beautiful translucent water flowed out of the pot the statue held carefully in her hands. Where the water was clean, the statue was not. Soot stained the once bright marble. The remains of the statue's broken left arm lay in pieces in the fountain.

Embers rose. The tiny spots of light illuminated a hideous scene. Blackened bodies laying motionless in pools of blood. The surrounding houses lay shattered. Their flammable parts were replaced by ash that coated the stone of the homes’ foundations liberally. Unnatural fog floated lazily over it all. Seeming to take joy in the carnage that it had brought.

In the sky. Still visible through the smoke that choked the air, was a trail of black clouds that pointed eastward. Not long before, a massive meteor had flown directly over the city, leaving the black trail that hadn’t faded even weeks after the calamity.

The world rocked. Up and down. Up and down. A mane of red hair rubbed against his face. Getting pulled into his nose and tickling him. He sneezed. His tiny head smacked daintily into the side of the neck of the person holding him.

Pain

He let out a cry. His mouth opened to reveal a tiny tongue in a mouth much too young to have grown any teeth. Still it hurt, and he let out another cry.

“Hush,” A lovely voice reverberated around him. Calming. Beautiful. Encapsulating all. “Hush my darling, everything will be alright.”

A gentle patting on his back followed shortly after. He calmed, cooing softly into the woman's neck. The world was warm. Strands of familiar red hair forming a protective blanket over his head. Shrouding him from the hellish light that the fires and the smoke cast.

He raised a chubby hand, reaching forward with childlike determination, and grabbed a tiny fistful of auburn strands. Comforted, he snuggled up into the hollow of the woman’s throat.

A clicking shriek pierced the calm. The world jerked and twisted, then spun once more. The careful bobbing was replaced by desperate oscillations. A warm hand pressed against the back of his head and pushed his face deeper into the hollow of the woman’s neck. Ear pressed tight against her skin, he heard the rapid pulsing of her heart.

Bdum, Bdum, Bdum

A panicked tempo. Frightening. Danger. He lifted his head, pushing against the protective arm to no avail. He opened his toothless maw, to release another cry. Eyes wide, he watched the world as it rocked unpredictably in his view. The only constant was the woman’s red hair waving wildly behind them.

A man tumbled out of the far street, and into the square. Man? No not a man. Its arms were too long. And claws? His skin wasn’t a comfortable shade of brown. Instead it was an unsettling midnight black. Chalky, similar to the wall that Mom wrote on with white rocks. It’s skin glowed hideously with an inner light. Orange veins twisting spasmodically over the surface like they wanted to escape. Escape and infect the rest of the people.

The not man lunged forwards, falling onto all fours as it raced across the destroyed square.

Sparkles? It was on all fours. And it had a big tongue lolling in the wind. But...No. No fur. And not brown. It didn’t look warm and fuzzy either.

The not man raced across the cobblestones. Claws rending the hard stone, leaving a trail of bright white sparks with every step. The world began to rock faster. The rhythmic sound of heavy breathing thrummed around him. The not man accelerated, yet, curiously, with the increased rocking of the world, did not seem to move faster towards them.

Still, the not man was fast approaching. Mere moments after it had appeared it was already halfway to them. They managed to leave the square behind. Bare feet slapped on the cobblestone as his cries were silenced by an even greater pressure that pushed him even deeper into the hollow of her neck.

The not man got close. Close enough for him to see that it wasn’t a man. Rather two lumps on its chest were like what Mom had. A woman then. With big teeth, and glowing orange eyes. Very scary. Yet he couldn’t cry as he was held tightly in the woman’s arms.

The not woman lunged. Arms outstretched, jaw hanging impossibly open, full of rows upon rows of razor sharp teeth.

Before he could see what was hidden in the not woman’s throat, a wall of steel slammed into the not woman. It tumbled away, its rows of teeth ineffectually scraping the cobblestones. Leaving gashes, and white hot sparks.

No. Not a wall. A man. Wearing all silver. A silver stick gripped in his right arm, aimed directly at the not woman.

The man turned towards him. A large silver eye drawn beautifully onto his tabard, it’s vision destroyed by a jagged scar that ran through it vertically. The world spun again. He was a little dizzy, so he focused on the clump of auburn strands he held tightly in his hand. They were familiar. Comfortable. But more importantly they were not spinning with the world. Not part of the world. Mine.

“Run!” A bass voice. Familiar. Strong. But hoarse? Fear? That’s bad. Frightening. Danger. He began crying in earnest, the tight pressure subsided allowing him to lift his head. This was too much. Big fat tears fell, and absorbed into the red strands that were everywhere.

“Go west. The monsters have swarmed the east gate. Run! I will join you later.” The world bobbed, then spun again, revealing the silver man standing proudly. Shrinking slightly as the distance grew. The not woman got up from where it fell. Then it lunged. The silver man spun, drawing his sword over the monster’s neck leaving a trail of sparks, but the black skin resisted the sharp blade.

The world spun again, the not woman and the silver man not visible anymore. Their combat cut short and disappearing from memory.

“Hush, my dear.” A beautiful voice. Calming. Safe. “We are almost there.”

The voice began to hum. A familiar melody. A hand on his back, holding his head steady, keeping him warm. Comforted. He pulled the clump of auburn hair to his lips and felt them with his tongue. Familiar.

Warm and familiar. Gently rocking. Warm and safe.

* * *

Warm and safe.

Ril awoke with a shudder. The nightmare of smoke and ash fading like the wind. The ceiling was white. Soft blankets covered him. Or encapsulated him. He felt warm and protected. More so than he had felt in a long, long time. But something was wrong. He felt stiff. Constrained. His limbs unresponsive, as if he was wrapped in something. Rope? Or was it bandages...

He felt his heart beat strongly in his throat. The sensation was odd and mildly disturbing. Before he could wonder about it, a wave of dull pain washed over him. It faded quickly, only to be replaced by an equally distant wave of pain a moment later when his heart beat again.

What...happened...who did a piss off this time? Ril groaned, twisting vainly to try and dispel the uncomfortable feelings.

“He’s awake, get the princess.” Eren’s voice came from his left, followed quickly by the click of a door and retreating footsteps. “I’m glad you’re awake. How are you feeling?”

“Weird, terrible.” Ril mumbled, groggy. “Thirsty.”

“Here,” Eren said simply, pushing a straw into his mouth and he greedily sucked up the cool liquid.

“What happened? Where am I?” Ril asked, disoriented.

“You fought in the arena, faced a noble Eliminator.” Eren said. Her face moved into Ril’s vision. She looked stressed. Worried. “Got hurt pretty bad. You’re lucky you didn’t get any permanent injuries.”

“Oh,” Ril blinked. The memories flooded back. The arena, the fights, the... failures. Then the utter defeat at the hands of Godric.

The door slammed open with a bang. Evelyn stormed in. Her long hair streaming behind her.

“Ril! You’re awake.” She said, more statement than question. Ril nodded feebly. Then her expression darkened. “What were you thinking? Fighting an Eliminator? And an unranked one at that. What if he was a two thousand? What made you think that you could defeat him?”

“I uh--” Ril started.

“And a noble on top of it all. Didn’t Eren tell you not to fight any nobles? What were you thinking?”

“Yes,” Ril said, “She did. I’m sorry.”

Eve’s expression softened. She sighed. “I’m sorry too. Was just worried. I’m glad you are ok though. Just be careful. I don’t want you to get killed in something as stupid as a ranked duel.”

Ril lifted his hand to his face, and saw that it was bandaged in what looked like a leaf. It felt hard and its edges were curled up, presumably to prevent it from cutting him whenever he curled his elbow.

“How are you feeling?” Evelyn asked.

“Numb,” Ril said, honestly, “What is this thing?”

“Ironwood leaf. It will hold your bone straight as it heals. The salves the healers used should get you up and functioning in no time.”

“How does it harden like this?” Ril mumbled. Evelyn just shrugged. “Where is Felix when you need him...”

Evelyn let out a soft laugh. She pulled up a chair and fell into it with a sigh.

“Why was that even allowed?” Ril asked, wincing as another dull ache passed over him. “The whole system seems stupid. Most people simply aren’t very good at one on one duels, while Eliminators dominate.”

Eve sighed. “You’re right, of course. The system is a holdover from the early part of the calamity. When no one had powers, it made a lot more sense. Now, the system remains because people are used to it, and no one has a better idea.”

Brilliant. There are idiots here too. Or they are doing it on purpose. I mean really. Why does an Empyrean need to be skilled at single combat? They would be much better served by having first aid skills. When would an Empyrean ever not fight in a group? They are simply too valuable to waste on one on one fights. Bruisers, I understand. And it would even be beneficial for them to fight Eliminators, so that they could learn how to battle offensive powder beasts. But Empyreans? Me? Absolutely ridiculous. What about Guardians? With this system they would never be able to join the academy. Even though they have one of the most useful classes.

“No ideas...” Ril scoffed, closing his eyes. His injuries felt distant. Unless he focused directly on a part of his body it felt like it wasn’t there. His limbs felt non-existent, but at the same time stiff and unresponsive.

“Implementing something else would take time, and would require retesting a lot of the members of the Academy. With the war they need to focus resources on the parts that matter.”

It does measure single combat ability pretty well. Ril thought, but honestly, why would I ever fight a powder beast on a fair playing field one on one? Unless I had no choice. And if that’s the case I already messed up pretty bad.

Ril didn’t respond for a couple of breaths. “Thank you for bandaging me up.”

“You’re welcome, Ril.” Eve said. Then she looked at the ceiling and rubbed her face. “I have to get back to work.”

“How are you doing? Did you figure out who hired the assassins?” Ril asked. Eve looked haggard. As if she hadn’t been getting much sleep over the last couple days. And the sleep that she was getting was less than restful.

“Great!” Eve said sarcastically. Then she sighed. “No, we haven’t made any progress with the assassins. Guess that is just going to be a mystery we will never solve.”

“We make a sorry couple.” Ril remarked after a moment. “I’m a mummy, and you look like you haven’t had a good night's rest since the assassin attack at the edge of the Dread Thicket.”

“Indeed,” Eve snorted, “You should see the other guy.”

“So, politics are going well?”

“As well as they can go. Not much new information, but I’m working with what I’ve got. Soon I will be all caught up from my break at Gemma’s. Once that happens Everything will slow down and it will get easier.”

“Is there any way I can help?” Ril asked.

“No. It’ll turn out fine. I’ve got Cato, and he is brilliant at handling such messes. You stay in bed. Get better. There’s no rush. Then get accepted into the academy. Don’t fight any Eliminators. Or nobles.”

“Or noble Eliminators?” Ril grinned.

“Or that.” She smiled. She said goodbye and left the room, leaving Ril alone with Eren.”

* * *

Several days passed as Ril watched Evelyn get more and more haggard. At first he watched her from his bed whenever she visited him as he recovered. But then he watched from the common room as his broken bones and burns healed.

Ril did not go back to the arena during this time. He was still recovering from his injuries. Instead, whenever Eren was free, he explored the city with her. Or more accurately, he hobbled behind her as she led the way through the city. However Ril was distracted. Anduin could no longer retain his focus. It’s winding streets no longer contained the appeal that they had previously carried.

As the monotonous days passed, Ril became more and more frustrated. He wasn’t doing anything. He was still injured and signing up for a ranked duel in the arena was foolhardy. But it was worse than that. Ril understood that he would never succeed in the arena. Perhaps he might get above fifteen hundred, but if the fights were as they had been than even that was not guaranteed.

No, it was unlikely that he would succeed in the arena. Not in its current form. And definitely not with his current set of abilities. Unlike literally every other combatant that he had faced, Ril did not have a single purely offensive ability. And with his measly eight strength, even his shortsword might be useless. The battle with the Bruiser and Empyrean had highlighted this.

He simply was not suited for battles. For the one on one fights that were expected of him in the arena and the Academy. In fights where raw strength and ability power dominated. Ril had technique, which obviously mattered. But technique could only get him so far.

No. Ril’s strength lay in trickery. Misdirection. The first duel showed that no matter how strong the opponent was, if they couldn’t see Ril, then they could not hurt him. The problem was that there is only so much you can do against a foe that is already aware of you. Ril was trapped in a small sandy ring with an opponent that couldn’t be tricked. Not really. And definitely not to the extent necessary to defeat Eliminators.

That wasn’t all, however. Evelyn’s situation grated on him. Seeing a friend struggle and not be able to help, hurt. He knew that it was irrational, and that Evelyn didn’t need his help, but he still felt useless for not being able to offer it in the first place. Especially since as the days passed Ril got less and less convinced that he would end up with a rating above fifteen hundred after ten fights.

Evelyn’s words stuck with him. She had said that she lacked information. That without proof, nothing could be done. There were noble factions that were scheming against her. She had mentioned the Peregrine and the Glotsk families. Ril didn’t know much about the Peregrines, but he had grown up in Elkshire. He had lived everyday in a city controlled by the Glotsks. He had watched as they squeezed their citizens for every last copper.

They are bound to be up to no good.

And so, late on the third day of his recovery, Ril stood alone in front of the Glotsk estate. His injuries hadn’t healed completely. Around his left arm, an ironwood leaf was still tightly wound, preventing him from twisting the still healing bone. But other than that, he felt whole.

He looked up at the mansion. I’ve done this before. How hard could sneaking in be? Especially with abilities like mine? He thought to himself with a grin.