Do not continue.

Turn back and leave them to their own devices.

They are not worth this amount of danger.

All these thoughts swirled in her core, but none managed to stretch far enough out of her thoughts to stop her ascent up the stairs. The chill in the air quickened her breath and with each step it became more difficult to force herself forward. The self-preservation was pushing its way through the fear, but most of her was stalled by a far more physical matter. The cold weakened her limbs, her fire recoiling on instinct to protect her core.

Again, her hand went to Veselin, taking hold of his long vest. His jaw clenched at first, but feeling the weakness in her grasp, he softened, sighed, and took the hand that had seeked out the nearest comfort it could find.

His warmth was less than her own, but in contrast to what was building around their group, it was both inviting and appreciated.

What was less appreciated though, was the fact that, with him holding onto her, she had little choice aside from following him up.

The stairs near the top were coated by a layer of frost, glittering in the magelights that made up for the thick curtains placed in increments along the stairwell. They'd not opened these to avoid the attention of those nearest, as Valya still had a few escape routes. But Tya was beginning to think that said routes had already been taken- that they were found out long before they had even entered.

Whatever décor had once been placed on the third floor was now covered. The frost-sheeted area glinted and sparkled against magelights hovering in sconces along the wide, curving walls. Their destination lay on the far wall, closed and blocked by a thick slab of ice that streaked up the wall, breaking into graceful frosty veins.

The room itself was a large semicircle. The peak of its curve branched off for the stairwell, and it was cut in the middle by the outer walls of the High Queen’s own territory; the places in the castle off limits to all but herself and her advisors. This part, Nisaki had not seen. The maps he’d drawn dulled in detail there, and all the information he had given was what Lillia had told him.

The majority of the party had noticed the fact that all the windows on this floor were uncovered. Dense red velvet curtains were pulled separate on bars capped at the ends with bright red jewels. Tya’s attention however, had been firmly fixed on the ice itself since they stepped foot on the third floor. Similarly to everything else up there, she was frozen in place, the only difference being that hers was fear rather than magic.

An unsteady breath escaped her, her body clenching as she struggled to inhale and fuel the fire within. Her entirety shook, and some may assume this was her shivering, but in fact it was a result of the growing flames beneath her skin. Similar to the way a real body instinctively sends adrenaline to assist with the ‘fight or flight’ response, her fire had begun to rage. She still had the control to keep her body from breaking under the pressure, but she could only hold so much. Despite how fixed her gaze had been on the ice, no movement went unnoticed. At first, the wonder of her companions had been ignored, but soon enough there was something that didn’t belong to them. The Elemental’s attention flicked up quickly.

The long red draperies, pulled over the floor-to-ceiling windows rustled, then twisted. They began to turn, and as they did, lightly armored legs wrapped around the cloth, fixing into it with a firmness that appeared effortless to the onlookers. With a graceful magnificence, two arms stretched outward as a man bent back to hang from the curtains by his legs. He so fluidly remained latched there, the only sign of his performance being difficult, the way his muscles flexed, visible beneath skin-tight black fabric.

Solid eyes of a color Tya could not identify stared down at them from his odd, acrobatic position. His hands had been left to freely hang, but he then clasped them together and let out a huff, though she was unsure of why.

“You’ve made it!” He spoke, and even if he’d yet to make a move, Tya, and all the rest, could tell that his amiable tone greatly contrasted his intentions. “I guess it was easy. Valya only left a few morons to guard the halls, in hopes of downing you,” he continued to say, his fingers waving in small circles with each needless emphasis. His hands pulled up to take hold of the fabric he clung to once more. His legs released, and maintaining every ounce of his elegance, he adjusted to be right side up while he slid to set his feet on the floor. The action was accompanied by a satisfying click of his heeled sabatons. “Our Queen doesn’t have the people to spare, with all her top-secret-oh-so-important research.”

He sighed once more, one hand moving up first to adjust the amusing black and gray collar on his neck, that lay over a large piece of triangular metal that protected his chest, then to brush through the long, thin black hair he’d ruffled with his limber movements.

When his hair was fixed, and the jester collar settled, his hand dropped to return to his side and weight shifted to one hip. He looked to be in thought, as if he intended to carry on, but he was given no chance.

The fine shriek of an arrow pierced the air, aimed up, but not quite at his head. When Tya realized the sound, she’d whipped to look at Melody. Before she could even think, there was another burst of impact, but this one was far different than the last. It was as if her arrow had struck glass and the sound echoed.

Melody wasted no time in nocking her next arrow, but she couldn’t move nearly as fast as their foe’s magic. A spike shot up from the ground, very nearly impaling the arm that held the bow itself. At that time, it was unfortunate, but the way it simply sliced through the leather of her arm-guard and her skin was likely something she’d be thankful for in the future, because it would heal, whereas his intended attack likely would have destroyed her arm beyond repair.

A squeal of both surprise and pain left her, and then her bow hit the ground, a loud clank bouncing from wall to wall as it did.

“Oh dear, I missed.” The man seemed truly troubled by this, as he stepped back into plain view, leaning to examine his new work and leaving behind the jagged, arrow-pierced spike that had leapt up to his defense before. He said nothing more, only offered a smile to the fox that had stumbled back and taken hold of her bloodied arm.

Veselin started to rush to her, but another spike shot up just under his feet, sending him onto his back. The impact ripped his breath from his lungs and sent his spiked staff clattering to the floor. It slid a short distance from him with a sharp metallic sound lingering in the air.

The smile that had been etched on the man’s face faded to a more stern expression, and he stepped forward. “No healing!” he practically whined, pointing out to Veselin. “That makes the fight unfair!” He then indicated Skye. “You too, potion boy, keep it in mind.”

Skye neither spoke nor moved, his green eyes narrowed at the other. He seemed stunned, but only let that be evident for a moment before he moved to help Veselin off the ground.

Veselin struggled to his feet, a hand on his chest while he swept forward a few steps to grab the rod he’d dropped when knocked down. He drew in a deep breath, finally regained what was knocked out of him, and he cast a glare toward the limber man.

With the source of the ice now known, Tya’s eyes hadn’t left the cryomancer. Melody had earned herself a few sideway glances with the first arrow, leaving Tya horrified that she’d dare to attack a man wielding such a dangerous weapon. Had she the moment to think, she would have realized that she’d never told them she was anything other than human, so it was likely just assumed that she was no weaker to his magic than the next person.

With her focus so firm, she had not noticed that the soft-footed Sindor seemingly melded away into the shadows and took precise steps across the ice. One of two crescent knives was held in front of her, prepared to defend her if the need arose. The other was held somewhat behind her, readied with the intention of following the first blade when she made her attack.

Sarobie got in close in a matter of moments, but as she pulled back to bring down the blade she held forward, Valya’s minion turned and swiftly swept aside her strike, the metal of an intricately decorated purple and silver bracer protecting him entirely from receiving any damage.

Sarobie responded by drawing forth the other blade, but much like with Melody, she wasn’t fast enough. Her skills were far more honed than the huntress’ seemed to be, and not even she was enough. He grabbed her arm before she could make contact.

Having only pushed aside her first strike, she still had her free hand, but it meant little. She started to lift it, but he grabbed that wrist as well.

His chin tilted upward, an arrogant smirk on his lips as he peered down to the smaller woman. “I am so far out of your league, dear,” he hissed in a whisper just before shoving her back. The floors being coated as they were, she struggled to get her balance to no avail. She caught herself on the ground only for ice to curl between her fingers, reaching up her arm and sealing her in place. A pained whimper left her as she tried to jerk from her icy binds, but the man dismissed her as he turned back to the remaining three.

“Is that all? Are we done?” Again, his hands moved in needlessly grand gestures. He paused, a feigned pout puckering his bottom lip. “You all look so disappointed. Had you thought you could just march in here with ease and defeat our lovely High Queen?'' The inflection of the title was laced with a hint of spite that showed through in a disgusted curl of his lips. "Certainly not. And even less so now that I have been deigned secondary antagonist."

His disgust by no means faded, though he tried to move in by letting his gaze rove over those not incapacitated. Melody had crumpled to the floor, holding her arm to her chest as if that would stifle either the pain or the trickle of blood spilling through her fingers. With the way both Skye and Veselin kept glancing in her direction, they both wanted to help her, but feared the attempt.

Skye stepped back, grabbing Tya’s arm, to which she responded by quickly taking a tight hold of his wrist. She gripped him, teeth bared at him, but this hostile response was lost on him as he didn't take his gaze off their foe. She didn't trust Skye, not in the least, but his grasp was a comfort in comparison to this situation. Her faltering tenseness revealed a shake in her hands worse than that of the normal one, and she resorted to holding onto him just as he did her. It took quite a bit for her to restrain herself, but she redirected it and tried to take solace in the feel of his touch.

She had begun to, at least for a moment. And then he spoke. “You’ve got to do something, Veselin and I are not fighters; we are defense.” He pulled at her lightly, and in response, she pulled back.

“I can’t,” her voice broke. She shook her head as she tried to wrench her arm from his grip.

“Tya, you have to.”

“I don’t have to do anything—“ she protested, pulling harder only for her attempt to be rendered useless. It was broken as a column of spikes shot up between both of them. He took the brunt of it, gasping, falling back a few steps and holding tightly onto his arm.

“Have you never been in a fight? This is not how they work!” The Jester stepped forward, stamping his foot angrily, and with the force another flare of ice speared forward.

Tya slid away, avoiding the attack but falling against the wall.

"You all attack one by one," he scoffed. "Horrible form, your defense was crippled on a single order, and battle planning a two year old could best." He spat through gritted teeth all toward Tya as she had now become his target.

Her panic surged. Her palms instinctively hit the ground in an attempt to give her leverage to stand, but the shock of cold in her shell broke a squeak from her lips. Her hands crossed over her chest, and she looked up at him, pleading "please let me go."

“Oh, certainly not!” he growled. Ice cracked beneath his sabatons with every approaching step, and as his sentence cut, fading into animalistic cruelty, some of it spiked forward. Tya scrambled on her hands and knees to avoid the attack, yet he paid no mind to himself or her. “If I let you leave, I’ve got to let everyone else leave!” He motioned to the two he’d already downed. “And as fun as a hunt sounds, Her Majesty gave me orders,” his vicious smile faded once more to a grimace, and he waved a hand dismissively. “That usual boring spiel—“ his voice went up an octave to try and mimic the femininity of Valya's voice. Something which had actually not been there at all when Tya heard her speak the first time. Womanly, yes, but still deep and smooth, much like her own. “Get rid of the intruders and make it quick, I haven’t time for their games”.

His sentence trailed off and he exhaustedly dropped his hands to his sides. He mouthed ‘whatever’, before both raised again and thrust upward. Sharp spikes mimicked the movements in waves on either side of Tya.

She didn’t notice it, having closed in on herself, but she was left in a small valley-like structure, with Sarobie, still in her frozen binds at the far, open end, the man in the middle, and herself against the wall.

“Tya, fight!” Veselin snapped from her left, pulling forth the rod-like weapon once more.

Tya did not acknowledge Veselin’s command.

She slid to the ground, having barely managed footing a moment prior. Her arms hugging tight over her chest to better guard herself.

“You can’t make her fight,” the jester mocked, stepping closer to her, at that point only feet in front of her. “Didn’t you hear her?”

“Tya, please,” Skye tried a more gentle approach moving closer to the spikes but wary not to touch them. The sharp edges jutted outward in their direction.

“He’s going to kill us if you don’t,” Melody sobbed, her voice calling Skye to turn back toward her. He had taken a step in her direction, but as he did the ice formed around her in something like a bowl, with needle-like edges so no one could get in to her without tearing themselves up.

The Jester sauntered along the smooth aisle, paying no mind to the curses leaving Skye and instead keeping lifeless eyes locked on Tya.

“What were you even supposed to bring to the table?” He almost whispered, head tilting dramatically to one side as he examined her. She flinched when she heard how close his voice had become. Her arms stiffened over her weak point, and she bowed her head, her eyes closing tighter as if that would make him and the ice disappear.

“The fox was the archer, the brunette was the—I don’t know, rogue? The healer, the apothecary—“ he stopped to look at Skye “you’re useless in battle, aren’t you?” but he dismissed his own question and any answer that may have been given to look back down to Tya.

He crouched and a hand outstretched, tapping her leg to get her attention. “Are you the fire mage? I was told they ripped you right from Valya’s dungeons, oh, she was mad. They said you killed one of them in the city as well. And yet here you are, unable to so much as stand. They talked you up so much I expected a fight.”

She opened her eyes, looking up at him though her head still remained down. Her shoulders were raised, her knees were pulled to her chest where her arms were still protectively crossed He was right. She’d shown herself to be pathetic, but where she would normally fight such an accusation, all she could manage were pleas.

“I do not want to fight you”. The words came so naturally, she almost didn’t realize they were her own.

He leaned forward, knelt on one knee and with a hand placed just next to her thigh to keep himself up as he did. She shrunk away from his studying gaze, pressing back into the frigid wall though the sensation made her core ache.

When he spoke next, it was in a manner she hadn’t expected given his entire display. Quiet, soft, and in a way that seemed just as natural as what she’d said; like it wasn't entirely on purpose. “I don’t want to fight either”.

Just after he spoke, he got to his feet once more and stepped away from her. He began down the valley, a hand extending out toward Veselin just to encase the Amaloran’s feet and weapon in the same manner he had Sarobie.

“But we don’t have a choice,” he proceeded to say, turning back toward her after having put distance between them. Her breathing elevated once again, and her eyes followed as a hand rose in the direction of the stairwell. Ice formed over it much like what was already over the entry to the set of rooms they needed to get to.

“Either I kill you, or you kill me,” he spoke through bared teeth, “so get on your feet and at the very least make it honorable.” With that, both hands thrust outward again.

The jagged ice sprung up, snaking in her direction, and just as it reached her with the intention of shredding the body she made, she closed in on herself once more, her arms flinging out and crossing in front of her. Heat poured out in a corresponding ‘x’, filling out in walls that traced over his ice.

All she had time to do was doubt she’d be safe before the fire and ice proved her wrong and died to pools of boiling steam between her and her for.

He barely took any time to be stunned by her reaction before kicking into motion with another devilish smile on his lips. Again he swung a hand forward, another chain heading for her. With it being just the one, she was able to scurry out of the way on her hands and knees. Not that the man allowed such, because the moment she seemed to evade his attack his free hand made a similar movement and another was made.

“Get up!” Skye’s voice came from the sidelines, but Tya paid little mind to it—she couldn’t acknowledge him. With each movement she made, ice darted upward toward her, and even as she got to her feet and melted the floor so she had room to move, she was becoming more and more closed in.

From the end of the partially melted valley, Sarobie called down to her: “Tya, you can’t stay on defense!”

She didn’t respond, and didn’t visibly acknowledge that she knew Sarobie was right. She didn’t have the time to form a plan, nor the time to execute a proper attack. Her aim was terrible, and even if it wasn’t, anything she could muster in the moments between the cryomancer’s attacks would be much too weak and slow to do significant damage, if it could even land.

He was quick and had complete control of their battlefield.

On impulse, Tya’s knees buckled, hands slamming flat onto the ground. Fire exploded outward with her force, further melting down the frost along the floor, and working at the ice at the walls on either side of her. The spikes had been greatly dulled by the sudden heat, but she hadn’t looked to see what it was Skye and Veselin had chosen to do with that fact.

That ice blue gaze of hers remained firmly locked on the ravenette before her, and she watched as he slowly paced to one side. His half-cocked smile had faded, and he let out a very soft, shaking breath, though at her distance, Tya didn’t see it. From her side, she heard Skye mutter something, then saw him begin to move, but elected to ignore him.

She struggled to her feet once more, falling back against the wall, which at that point was much more comfortable to the touch. Still, she would have preferred not to be near it.

She watched, braced for his next move, but it didn’t come. Instead he seemed to be doing what she wished to do—analyzing. In that time, she acted once more on impulse, swiping forward imitating him in both movement and attack. Her fire blazed across the floor, not striking him but instead exploding at him in some sort of warning, which admittedly was not her intention. She had meant to hit him, but depth perception was also not a strong suit.

He marched forward when the flames calmed, his hands raised with the intention of launching another attack, but everything was halted and disarmed in one swift movement from behind him.

There was a metallic click, and a quiet unexpecting hiss from him. He was shoved forward, then onto his knees, but unable to fall onto his chest. He was held up by some sort of metal collar, which Tya quickly identified to be the strange contraption at the top of Veselin’s rod-like weapon.

Two springed metal bars were angled outward inside the loop, so the ice mage couldn’t pull forward and escape the trap without first pushing them in, and as he fell to his knees, Tya could see spikes pressing through his hair and digging into the back of his neck so he could not move back. The fit was too tight for him to slip down, and therefore he was completely caught.

Veselin huffed, a lip curled upward with annoyance as he dug the spikes into the other’s flesh.

He could have easily speared him with the weapon, and yet he refrained from doing so. Tya saw Veselin’s eyes flicker to Melody, and then he asked simply “do you surrender?” in a tone that was forceful, aggravated, and like he was hoping for his prisoner to deny him.

Silence lay over them then, and the jester closed his eyes, head tilting back so he could lean into the spikes. The quiet broke when he said “If you say you have defeated me.”

“We have defeated you,” Veselin confirmed with annoyance as if that fact shouldn’t have to be said.

“To Valya, you dunce.” At the insult, Veselin pulled back on the rod, digging the spring doors into the man’s throat and causing him to emit an unpleasant choking sound.

“Melt the ice.” Veselin ordered.

“You realize I could kill you even in this trap, right?” But Veselin paid no mind to that, only drug him to the side so he faced Melody. Rolling his eyes, or at least making an expression like he did so—with no visible pupil it was hard to tell, the man did as told, then before he was forced in Sarobie’s direction, did the same for her.

When Melody was out, Skye rushed to her, helping her off the floor and looking at her arm. The fox leaned over on him, ears flat against her hair and tears streaming down her face from the pain.

“Will you kill me, then?” He asked, shifting as much as he could to look back at Veselin.

“You surrendered,” before Veselin could speak up, Melody answered for him, sniffling as she did. “There’s not a reason to.”

“And if you choose to release me, I could just turn and betray you.” He remarked.

Sarobie approached, rubbing her hands in hopes that friction would help warm her slightly discolored fingers. “Are you stupid enough to say that to us if you’re going to do it?”

“Maybe,” he replied casually.

“Press the bars on the front and you can get out.” Veselin practically spat at him, nodding his head toward the end of the rod.

He raised his hands and did as told, slipping out and rubbing the back of his neck. He pulled his hand forward, looking at the dark blood that had smeared on it with the action, then grimaced once more.

“You’re not a Sékan?” Sarobie commented from behind, brow furrowing at the color on his hands.

“I figured the grey skin and dead eyes gave that away,”

Sarobie’s look of curiosity shifted to one of displeasure. “Excuse me for not paying much attention to your appearance when you’re trying to kill us.”

“But my appearance is wonderful, you really missed out—“ he stopped himself, shaking his head and dismissing her entirely. He looked toward the stairwell he had sealed off to avoid Tya escaping. At his command, both that as well as the large doors to the next hall were uncovered as the ice shattered into glittering shards.

“Tell her I’m defeated. I prefer not to lie but you’re not me. So if you say ‘dead’, make up something fun to do with my body, will you?” The man's casual demeanor was hard to ignore, only contradicted by the fact that he practically ran for the exit. He had tried to steady himself it seemed, to look as if he wasn't rushing, but he wanted out and that much was clear.

He was gone. Just that easily. No trick, no betrayal of his surrender. He was gone.

Then the eyes turned onto Tya. She shifted her gaze downward, shoulders raising once more and an expression that made her look like a puppy that just pissed on the carpet.