“That’s another one down.”

“Seriously, they are just too weak. Just a bunch of wannabes.”

“Tell me, are we perhaps killing merely for the sake of pleasure now?”

“Can you cut your blabbering?”

The triplets looked at their new victims, a group of well-trained, perhaps even moderately wealthy mercenaries. The mercenaries were already heavily armed, each having an expensive chestplate that protected their torsos with shin and arm guards that protected their limbs. Each was armed with a weapon of their choice, some with spears, some with crossbows, some with shortswords, some with an array of knives. It seemed that they were well prepared, clearly gathering ample information about their opponents beforehand. Except the mercenaries had expected just one warrior, not three identical-looking ones.

To the people who had heard of them, they were simply known as Elethien, a young woman blessed with incredible talents, a feared legend in the declining, fractured kingdom of Trelven. She was a forester, part of a small tribe of people known for their height and strength compared to the two great races of people in the world of Parvilien: the Staegondians and Smarinians. Even in their chaotic era, where roads often fell into disrepair and news spread at agonizing speeds, the name of Elethien was spread far and wide, with nations even putting large bounties on her head from the pure fear that she may one day lead the foresters and overpower them all.

Yet to the remaining foresters still residing in the Tarevuen, a patch of woods far from any town or city, the nearest being the small town of Tecullia, the name Elethien only belonged to one of their beloved, popular triplets, the others being Aletha and Enaien. They were the daughters of Akena, a forester whose family had migrated to Tecullia generations earlier, and only returned to the forest to give birth to the triplets. Their father was unknown, but it was assumed that he was a Smarinian, for the triplets had eyes like autumn leaves, a blend between the dark brown of Smarinian eyes and the strange, emerald green eyes of the foresters. They were completely identical in appearance, with only minor differences in their features separating them from each other. The eldest, Elethien, had a small mole under her right eye. The second, Aletha, had a birthmark at her nape. The youngest, Enaien, had eyes of a slightly different shade, like the flames of a fire.

Their personalities, however, were completely different worlds. Elethien was the softest, her voice like a noblewoman living in their pretty palaces. Aletha emulated one with uncontrolled pride and sarcasm, mocking her enemies before she slaughtered them. Enaien, meanwhile, was like the average forester: loud, straightforward, and eager for combat.

The three of them were poor, unable to afford any armor other than a wrist guard on their right hand, yet they were untouchable. They were weak in physical strength for their race, yet their mastery of magic, an art of utilizing the energy around them, was unmatched. They never received any education, yet they could articulate themselves better than most leaders, their charisma easily rallying their fellow foresters if they so wished to. Their invincibility lay in one fact: they would always fight together, as the singular persona of Elethien rather than the individuals of Elethien, Aletha, and Enaien. “We are Elethien.” That was their motto.

“Let’s see what we have here,” Elethien said, inspecting the corpses. The weapons and armor were largely broken, but within the mercenaries’ pouches, she could find some snacks, enough to serve as their next meal. “Looks like our lunch today will be a filling one.”

“There’s nothing useful,” Aletha complained. “None of their tools are even remotely useful compared to our Anapa. Just look!” She grabbed the Anapa, the only weapon the three of them possessed, raised it high before it plunged into the stomach of an enemy. Although the dead mercenary was armored, the blade cleanly stabbed through the metal, the insides giving a satisfying sound to her ears. “See? Useless.”

“Don’t compare it with the Anapa,” Enaien said. “It’s the strongest sword around, isn’t it? The number one!”

Elethien grabbed a few unspoiled crackers, the food only slightly dirtied by the soil on her hands. Without a word, she tossed them to Aletha and Enaien, leaving only the crumbs and some of the already soggy ones to herself.

“Aren’t you hungry, Elethien?” Enaien asked.

“I’m fine,” she answered. “The leftovers are enough to fill my stomach for the day.”

Aletha walked up to Elethien, shoving a cracker in her mouth. “The enemy’s rations are disgusting. I’m not going to eat them, so you better finish them for me.”

“She means you should eat up,” Enaien translated.

“Shut your mouth!” Aletha shouted, her cheeks flushed.

“If you insist,” Elethien thanked, nibbling on the crackers. Although she tried to keep a dignified face, she was simply too hungry, and before she even realized, she had already devoured a person’s portion of crackers.

They were all hungry. Their last meal contained only some leaves and a small bird boiled in water, a large pot feeding a total of ten people, which included them along with their neighbors. It was fancily called a soup, but they all knew it would not be enough for their young bodies. Even these rough rations were a luxurious consumable to them, and they would never even fathom what the wealthy could consume on a daily basis.

“What day is it today?” Enaien asked, her mouth dry from eating the crackers.

“Should be the sixteenth day of Summer,” Elethien answered.

“That’s our birthday!” Enaien exclaimed. “We should have a good dinner tonight!”

“Didn’t expect to survive till twenty two years of age,” Aletha commented. “At least in our state.”

“It would be nice if we were born in some noble household,” Elethien imagined. “Being pampered every day, eating rare, exotic foods on a daily basis without having to worry about the essentials.”

“The only one who would even sound the part is you,” Enaien said. “Me? I’d want to hunt and fight every day. What more fun than to eat what you’ve hunted?”

“One thing’s for sure: we aren’t fit to be one,” Aletha added. “Not like I want to please some fat guy’s mouth and be married off at the age of twenty.”

“Those stupid fat nobles!” Enaien laughed in agreement. “But, say… Wouldn’t it be nice if we fought and made our own kingdom, where we make the rules? Then we make those idiots listen to us instead of following their rules! Wouldn’t that be amazing!”

“Just the thought of toying with their feelings, having them on a leash… Certainly better than our miserable lives here!” Aletha laughed at the mere imagination of such a situation.

“You wish!” Enaien poked Aletha jokingly.

“Anything is better than what we have experienced so far, to be frank,” Elethien said. “Our income from our jobs are barely enough to feed ourselves, we have to venture so far just to kill someone we have never met before, and yet our name is enough to make people simultaneously fear and want to kill us.”

“What a world,” Enaien sighed.

“All the reason to build our own,” Aletha added.

They departed from the site, leaving the corpses behind. Nature will soon reclaim the bodies, decomposing them until they are nothing but nutrients for new life to grow. They felt no remorse, being no different from an average day. For how long this life will last, they do not know. But as long as they were together, it was enough.

“We have a job later tonight, don’t we?” Enaien asked as they stroll in the woods. “Looks like we won’t be able to enjoy our birthdays as much as we want.”

“Our target is a man named Vaklen,” Elethien answered. “The hirer promised to pay a heavy sum if the target were to be killed, possibly enough for us to acquire new gear, feed the entire village for a year, and still with some money left over.”

“We must be killing an important figure, then,” Enaien guessed.

“Another classical example of the violent feuds of the rich,” Aletha snorted.

“Perhaps,” Elethien said. “But that’s none of our business, is it?”

“We kill, we hide the body, and we collect our rewards,” Enaien summarized.

“It’s merely the same with our other missions, so there’s no need to fret,” Elethien emphasized. “As long as we utilize our weapon well, we will have success.”

She stared at the Anapa, currently in the hands of Aletha. If it weren’t for the sword, they would’ve died long ago. They had known bits of magic before she accidentally came upon the Anapa, but with the loyal weapon by their side, they were invincible. Whether it be barriers, materialization, pure energy output, the Anapa allowed them to do so much more.

It looked like a weapon someone important had dropped or lost, being made with such fine metals and allowing them to dominate the area. They do not care. Whoever it had belonged to, it was theirs now, and theirs for many years to come.

By the time the Elyfesta dipped below the horizon, they had returned to the settlement in the Tarevuen, just enough time for a meal before they head out again. It was, for them, just another day.

The settlement was small, but it had the essentials offered to every forester that resided there. The houses, organized into a loose ring, were tall, made from wood cut from the trees in the forest. Although they were crude builds, they often survived for almost a decade before major renovations were needed. Illuminating the exteriors of the houses was a single central bonfire, offering comfort and warmth. Although it was too big for any practical cooking purpose, the bonfire was the centerpiece, the “spirit” of the settlement, per se.

“Aletha!” They heard a voice shout from one of the houses, the door rapidly opening and shutting as a young man ran out, his lean legs leaping in great strides as he approached their direction. Aletha immediately backed off, but it was too late as she found herself in the embrace of the man, her sweaty clothing contacting his clean, fragrant tunic. Despite that, the man only hugged her tighter, as if welcoming back a long lost partner.

“Tarigen, how many times have I told you not to do this?” She complained, freeing herself with some difficulty.

“You are as beautiful as the moment I last saw you!” Tarigen praised.

“Which was just last night,” Aletha stated.

Tarigen took a light sniff of her shoulder. “But far more smelly.” He pinched his nose, almost bouncing off away from Aletha.

“Your humor is a pain,” Aletha hissed harshly.

As unlikely as they seemed, Tarigen and Aletha were childhood friends, exchanging coarse remarks ever since they first met. Tarigen was the only one who could consistently decipher the meaning behind Aletha’s words, responding to her in a similarly unique fashion. Being only a year younger, he saw Aletha never as an elder sister, but a dear friend on equal footing. Aletha, meanwhile, also highly treasured the companionship of Tarigen, enjoying his cheerful presence despite any of her own open claims to the contrary. In fact, she secretly enjoyed his embrace earlier, being the first friendly contact she received since yesterday, with the exception of her sisters.

“Hello, Tarigen,” Elethien greeted. “Glad to see your eagerness to welcome us.”

“Hello, Elethien!” Tarigen responded, giving her a friendly hug as well.

“Hey!” Enaien followed, her arms wide awaiting for a hug.

“No,” Tarigen said, refusing her hug and walking away.

“Wait!”

Tarigen suddenly turned around before also giving a hug to Enaien. “I was joking!” he laughed.

“Idiot,” Enaien responded.

Unlike the other foresters, as Enaien noticed, Tarigen wasn’t a fighter. Instead, he would take on odd jobs, temporarily replacing someone else’s post until they returned. Whether being a farmer, a messenger, an artisan of some sort, there was no job he couldn’t do. With the various experiences he had, he also became very adept at reading the mood and thus made many friends. Despite his weaker physicality, he was already being considered a candidate for the next head, the elders hoping he would become the bridge between the foresters and the outside world. Well, not that Enaien cared much about that. In her eyes, Tarigen was just a nice friend, a warm hearth away from the violence in her life.

“How was your day?” Tarigen asked as they made their way to his home.

“It isn’t much from the usual,” Elethien answered. “We decided to take a stroll today, but as you know about our jobs, we got ambushed of sorts. Not that it was beyond our expectations, however. The ambushers were ill-prepared.”

“Were you hurt?”

“Nothing serious, only a little shallow cut on my leg.”

Tarigen noticed that Elethien’s left leg had been hastily wrapped, bandaged with fabric, possibly torn from the enemies she faced. The bandage was crude, traces of blood already seeping through the cloth. As they approached his home, her footsteps became uneven, the color on her face pale, sweat trickling down to her chin.

“Elethien, stop,” Tarigen ordered.

Suddenly kneeling down, he removed the bandages, revealing a crimson gash running across the entire calf. As Elethien had said, it was a shallow wound, but it was as if her entire calf had been cut open, the twitching of the flesh clearly noticeable to the eye. She winced as her wound was exposed to the mildly humid air, the strength of her entire leg suddenly departing from her.

“This is no shallow cut.”

“Were you mute earlier?” Aletha scolded in anger, shoving Elethien onto the worn-down porch.

There were tales of infected wounds, where even a minor cut on the finger would eventually cause the entire hand to be amputated. Or perhaps of a parasite-infested wound that eventually killed the host. They had heard tales like those far too often, and for a wound as exposed as Elethien’s, Aletha could only burst in rage, disguising her powerlessness within.

“I’m alright. It’ll recover in time,” Elethien calmly said even as she began to breathe heavily, lightening her pain as much as she could. She tried to stand up with her good leg, but Tarigen promptly setted her down, motioning for her to stay.

“Elethien, you aren’t alright,” Tarigen said in concern. “Please don’t move for a moment.” Carefully, he lifted her up, setting her against the wall. “I’ll go get a pair of crutches or something of the sort.”

“N-No, it’ll be fine,” Elethien protested, but he had already headed inside the house.

This was how Tarigen naturally acted when someone was injured. He would suddenly be overcome by concern, immediately searching for ways to treat the injured. If she could, she’d rather treat the wound herself, but this was Tarigen, one who would help anyone out in any way he could, even at his own inconvenience. He was simply too caring and kind towards everyone, to the point where she could see his exhaustion from helping others alone. His eyes, although filled with concern for her, were also hiding an unspeakable sense of tiredness, as if he couldn’t afford to let others know that even he would have moments of exhaustion. Even now, where they should’ve had a moment of rest and peace, her injury was causing further trouble for him.

She only hoped that he wouldn’t tire himself so frequently. At least he should allow himself to be selfish at times.

After a while, he reappeared, his sturdy arms wrapped around a straw mattress, which inside it was a strong wooden board. Elethien was slightly embarrassed at this sight, understanding the usage of such a clean, soft platform.

Without a word, Tarigen placed down the mattress before he went to Elethien, lifting her up with much struggle. To assist him, Aletha and Enaien supported Elethien’s legs, and carefully, the three of them set her down on the mattress, paying particular attention to her injured leg.

“Just stay put,” Enaien said.

“One… two!” In unison, they lift the mattress up, slowly shuffling into the house, the interior already mostly cleared away, the furniture shoved aside, leaving only the bare floorboards.

“Slowly, carefully…” Tarigen muttered as they placed the mattress down. Elethien could feel her leg becoming numb, and as she ran her fingers across the skin, she felt no sensation or response.

Tarigen reached for a bottle, the surface opaque, and as he brought it to his side, there was a sandy sound, like fine grains scraping against each other. He shook the bottle several times, the granules inside rattling around, before he opened the cap, releasing a faint metallic smell.

“This might hurt a little.” With steady hands, he poured the contents of the bottle onto Elethien’s wound. Before they made contact, Elethien saw clearly that they were finely-grinded sands of metal, their surfaces reflecting the natural light into her eyes like thousands of stars. However, as soon as the first grain touched her flesh, a sharp pain coursed through her body, and instinctively, her teeth bit firmly onto her lips to prevent a scream.

“Just hold on a little more.” He lightly pressed his right hand onto the gash, the metal pushed deeper into the flesh. As Elethien hissed in pain, he placed his other hand on her forehead, calming her as the fingers massaged her head, distracting her from the process of healing.

Gradually, the wound began to close, the tissue rapidly regenerating and coming together. The metal dissolved, melted into the flesh as the wound was healed. Elethien breathed heavily, the pain dissipating away from her body. She could feel the air again, not as thousands of painful needles, but as a cool, soft breeze ruffling her hair, congratulating her for persevering through.

“Please be careful, Elethien,” Tarigen sighed. “Your wound won’t be completely healed until tomorrow. It may even reopen if you overexert yourself.” His face was one of relief, his hands released from Elethien. Smiling, he stood up, taking a few small steps to a nearby chair before he promptly sat on it. It was evident that he was tired, in need of rest after such an energy-consuming activity. “I was planning to cook a good meal for your birthdays too…”

“Don’t worry,” Enaien reassured. “We’ll handle the meal. After all, you already have the ingredients prepared, don’t you?”

“It’s not as if your cooking is irreplaceable,” Aletha added.

“It’s not as if you can cook better than me,” Tarigen laughed, pretending to be mildly annoyed.

“Just you wait!” Aletha declared, marching into the small but well-furnished kitchen, her eyes alive with determination.

“I’ll hope that this meal will be a special one,” Elethien said. “Please wait. I’ll be helping as well.”

“No, you won’t,” Enaien refused. “Sit down. Who knows if your wound will reopen and trouble Tarigen again?”

“We are Elethien, aren’t we?” Elethien emphasized. “Whatever we do, it is as one.” She forces herself up, her left leg still slightly unstable.

“Fine, fine, whatever,” Aletha said dismissively. “But if you get yourself injured, it will all be your fault.”

Tarigen vomited the food into a dented metal bucket, his taste buds completely overwhelmed and shocked by such a disaster of a meal.

“What is this?” he exclaimed in horror. His carefully selected ingredients, the moderately fancy meal that it was supposed to be, all ruined by the combined efforts of the triplets who apparently cannot cook properly. For a young man without much money, it was a terrible waste.

“What do you mean? It’s perfectly fine to me.” Enaien gorged on the grub, her mouth moving as if it encountered the food from the heavens.

“Messy as always.” Although Aletha looked at her in slight disgust, she too was devouring the meal with great fervour, a few unrecognizable crumbs scattered around her lips.

Only Elethien ate her food quietly, carefully biting an overcooked slice of meat as not to burn her tongue. It was rare to have any sort of meat in a meal, and despite, admittedly, that their cooking was terrible and had ruined the food, she still treated it as a rare, delicious meal, one she may never have another chance to encounter.

“I-I can’t believe you three,” Tarigen said shakily, completely shocked by the varying attitudes of the triplets. He knew they weren’t particularly picky on food, but to treat this disaster as a delicacy was out of his comprehension.

“Thank you for preparing such fine ingredients,” Elethien said. “Although we did ruin it somewhat.”

“Well… Fine,” Tarigen sighed. “It is, after all, your birthdays. As long as you enjoy the food, then I have nothing to be unhappy about.” He smiled. The three of them were vastly different, but at their core, they were one. They sometimes sounded, and definitely looked as adults, but they were just overgrown children, that albeit older than him, acted immaturely at times, as if they were seeking to reclaim the childhood they never had.

Or perhaps they were merely seeking an escape from the death they witnessed every day, someday becoming one of the dead themselves.

“To us three, turning twenty two years of age today!” Enaien raised her ceramic cup in jubilation, the water within nearly spilling out in the excitement.

“To our bodies, having survived twenty two years of torture on this world!” Aletha responded, also raising her cup.

“To our sanities, preserved for so long by the grace and gift of the Elyfesta!” Elethien exclaimed in a rare moment of loudness.

“To these three, Elethien, Aletha, Enaien!” Tarigen finished, and as his voice reached a climax, they slammed their cups down onto the table in unison, the weak wooden furniture nearly buckling under the combined strength of the four.

The night went by relatively quickly, the four of them lost in their conversations. It was certainly not the most glamorous celebration, but they, naturally, didn’t care. Whether it be Enaien’s antics, Tarigen’s laughs, Aletha’s sarcastic jokes, or Elethien’s subtle remarks, they all enjoyed themselves, the house dimly lit by the sparse candlelight, giving off a warm, homely feeling.

Alas, as many people say, all good things must come to an end, and it was time for their job. Laughter still echoing in their mouths, Aletha and Enaien began to prepare themselves, changing into a set of dark clothing prepared earlier in their bag, tying their hair into a bun. Aletha grabbed the Anapa, her veins on her arms glowing slightly as she came into contact with the sword’s handle. Enaien’s arms were the same. Slightly disappointed, Elethien sat at her chair, looking at her sisters. Her veins were also glowing, in fact brighter than Aletha and Enaien, but they mean nothing at her current state.

“Stay safe,” she said. “I apologize for being such a burden.”

“Don’t worry,” Enaien reassured. “We will return. As always.”

Aletha opened the door, immediately being pelted by a shower of rain. “Just great,” she groaned. “The summer rain had to hit now.”

“Then we’ll simply pretend there is none,” Enaien declared as she stepped out, her hair immediately soaked. “Come on, Aletha!”

“Some days, Enaien, you are just too optimistic,” Aletha muttered, following Enaien into the rain, closing the door behind her. Soon, they were gone, with only the pitter-patter of rain covering their traces.

“It’s hard to imagine sometimes that you three are triplets,” Tarigen joked as he began cleaning up the table. “And all in one persona as well.”

“Perhaps that is why our tales are spread so far,” Elethien replied in seriousness. “The existence of a person with three split personalities would be shocking, if not unheard of for our isolated worlds.”

“Sometimes, you need to relax,” Tarigen said. “Enaien and Aletha have their moments of jokes and fun. Why don’t you try the same?”

“I did joke a bit during the meal, didn’t I?”

“How about laughing? You aren’t one to laugh a lot, but a laugh can help you relax.”

“Do you mean that I should try laughing more often?” Despite her words, Elethien remained relatively emotionless, her mouth naturally arched in an elegant smile.

“Yes… How about this? Try a laugh right now,” Tarigen suggested. “Just laugh as if you heard a great joke. Maybe when you practice more, eventually you’ll find laughing to be a natural part of your life.”

“Alright.” Elethien took a deep breath, her mouth wide open. Perhaps she could imitate Enaien’s laugh, so joyful and energetic. She laughed.

It wasn’t a laugh, really. More like a person choking on their own saliva, coarse and dry, almost to the point of a hacking cough. Compared to her usual gentle voice, the forced laugh was almost hellish to the ears, like some kind of crazed creature.

“That… wasn’t as good as I had imagined,” Tarigen gasped, reeling from the noise.

“I deeply apologize if that was hard on your ears,” Elethien said meekly, her own ears unbelieving of the sounds from her throat. “Maybe we should take a rest now. It’s already late into the night.”

Tarigen blew out the candles one by one, gradually dimming the house. “I’m sorry I didn’t prepare a bed for you, so you’ll have to rest on some chairs,” he apologized. He was already on the verge of collapsing on the spot as he wasn’t used to staying up this late. The rain still ricocheted off the roof, the sounds rapping against the wood.

“Don’t worry,” Elethien said. “I’ll just sit here, waiting for them to return. No need to blow out all the candles.”

“Are you not going to sleep?”

“I’ll sleep when they return.”

“Alright then. Good night, Elethien. And happy birthday.”

“Have a good rest.”

Elethien leaned back on her chair, the wood creaking as her weight relaxed against it. It was her first moment of true alone time in quite a while, actually, the first time being unable to participate in a mission. Being paid with only meager amounts of money meant that, most of the time, she couldn’t afford breaks, and sleep was merely a period of recuperation before the next mission.

She rubbed her fatigued eyes with her tender hands. Despite being one who worked her hands to their limits, they were still thin and graceful, albeit a little bony. The three of them were the same in that way, yet somehow, they could all wield the Anapa with ease, the weight of a sword almost like a feather.

She remembered passing the sword around to each other as a game. At first, they would be cut, squealing in pain as they clutched their hands. Gradually, they could handle it better, increasing the speeds until they reached their limit. Their reflexes and teamwork became unparalleled, being able to, with the assistance of magic, understand each other’s minds to an extent. Perhaps it was that which led to their greatness.

Even now, she could sense the arms of her sisters vibrating, pulsing with energy, the lights on her veins shining bright. She pictured the Anapa appearing at her left, and immediately, a replica of the sword itself, limited only by the energy of one to keep it in capacity. But it was merely to entertain herself. She was tired, a little too tired, and if she could sneak a doze, then perhaps it’ll be…

A shock jolted her awake and alert. The former connection, that intimate relationship between her and her sisters, was nowhere to be sensed. The veins on her hand were now back to their metallic greenish-grey color, no longer the radiant yellow she enjoyed.

Certainly they were pranking him. It was merely a bait when she was supposed to wake up in the morning.

There were no signs of any rejuvenation of action. It felt… strange. There was a sense of worry boiling inside, urging her to go. She looked at her wound. It wasn’t much now, almost fully healed, with only a minor scar remaining.

Worry overtook her. She ran out into the rain, not even bothering to change into some other set of clothes. Her hair was immediately dampened by the rain, her clothes soaked, sticking closely to her skin. But those were beyond her thoughts. There was only Aletha and Enaien in her mind, their safety perhaps in jeopardy.

The raindrops whipped her face, but she continued onward. The leaves, tossed around, flew past her. She does not know where they have gone, but she shall start with the rendezvous point.

It was situated in a dark alley in some town she had never bothered to read the name of, the roads branching out, dividing itself into narrower paths. Here was where she would usually collect her income from her greedy benefactor, representing the three of them as the persona of “Elethien”. It was a long way to arrive there, naturally, but those were beyond her thoughts.

She arrived. The rain had stopped, the Elyfesta’s light barely beginning to show its glory. Through the minimal lighting, she could make out two figures lying on their stomachs, their bodies still twitching, still persevering, or so she thought. The blood, diluted with the water, soaked their tattered clothing. Their damp hair was sprawling everywhere, so messy, so chaotic. To the side of one of them was a sword, the blade coated with blood.

“H-Have you r-returned to finish… us?”

The voice was Aletha’s.

Elethien rushed over, turning the body of her dear sister. Aletha’s torso was peppered with arrowheads lodged inside her flesh and bones, her shirt a metallic smell of weapons and blood, that although diluted by the humid air, still found its way to Elethien’s nose, overwhelming her. Her back was cleanly slashed with a bladed weapon, exposing her formerly powerful muscles. One of her calves was bending in the wrong position, as if it was crushed and broken. She was pale, her eyes not even having the strength to fully open, only barely able to see Elethien’s expression of shock.

Aletha pointed shakily to the other figure with a violently thrashed arm, pieces of flesh still clinging to the rest of the body. “En… aien,” she barely whispered.

As Elethien looked closely at the heap that was Enaien, she dared not to even approach her. Enaien’s forearms were connected by merely a thread of muscle, a hand nailed to the ground by an arrow. An axe was lodged deep in her femur, the wooden handle snapped apart, the splinters instead scattered across the ground. Her head was limp, a mess of blackish-reddish liquid oozing out from her eye sockets. A short spear skewered her waist from the side, the spearhead just poking out of her body. She was already unmoving, silent, a repulsive corpse in a town yet to be awakened to the new day.

“Betrayal… ambush… arrows…” Aletha tried to explain, fighting her rapidly failing lungs.

“Please save your words for later,” Elethien hurriedly said, suppressing her storm of emotions.

She should’ve expected. With such a high ransom on their heads, it was only natural for them to eventually face their deserved retribution. As mercenaries, this was their life. Disposed. Manipulated. Killed. Those were the last stages of many of their occupations. They will soon be forgotten, their wretched lives barely a scratch on the wheels of history.

If only there was some way to change it. Someone to change it. Something to set everything off.

“K… Kill me,” Aletha muttered weakly. She would be dead soon anyway.

Elethien silently placed Aletha on the ground before picking up the Anapa.

They were three, but they were one. They killed, only to be killed in return. They were Elethien, Aletha, and Enaien. They are Elethien.

Elethien placed Aletha’s hand on her cheek, a last intimate touch before her death. Instead of her usual coarse remarks, Aletha smiled. In that smile Elethien saw herself, so peaceful, so graceful.

“We are Elethien,” Aletha managed to muster her strength to say the words. Not a goodbye, not some last wish, but a simple statement for who they were and who they are.

“We are Elethien.” The Anapa plunged into Aletha’s heart, immediately killing her. Even as the sword pierced her, Aletha smiled.

The memories flooded in. Elethien felt as if she was seeing her life played out in front of her, only from a different perspective. She saw her own beautiful face in the memories, a mature girl acting as an anchor to her sisters.

She felt the pride, the scorn, the confidence rush in. She was truly one. She is Elethien.

She removed the Anapa from Aletha and walked to the corpse of Enaien. Touching Enaien’s hair, she repeated the phrase again. “We are Elethien.” An identical stab through the heart, already silenced for so long.

The energy filled her. The emotions were bursting at the seams. The childlike innocence and straightforwardness etched deep into her consciousness. She was truly one. She is Elethien.

No, they… They are Elethien.

She laughed. First only a few bits interspersed with sobs, slowly increasing in volume and intensity, until at last, she howled and screamed, shrieked and roared with laughter. So great, so indescribable was this feeling to her. It was as if she was finally complete.

Alas, they are one.

Alas, they are Elethien.