By The Sword - Homepage

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I unsheathed my sword as the world devolved into chaos.

The shouting was just beginning. Even over the oppressive clamor of my roaring pulse and metal boots pounding on the rock below, I could make out far too many of the words.

The first to shout was Kye. When I’d noticed the differences and felt the oncoming battle, she’d looked back at me curiously. I’d ignored her glaring and snapping fingers, though. So when I’d broken out into a sprint at the sight of smoke, she was more than a little bit confused.

“Agil? What the hell are you doing?” she yelled from behind me. I could almost see the bewildered expression on her face. But I didn’t turn around—I didn’t even respond, for that matter. Because the more my ears twitched, the more certain I became that whether I told her or not, she would find out anyway.

The next few shouts came from Fyn. Or, more accurately, they came from the knights in our backing party in general. From what I could see in the corner of my eye, all of them slowed their pace and raised their voices. Mostly in confusion. And mostly directed at either me or Kye as the chaos ramped up in intensity.

I didn’t pay attention to them, either.

My lips twitched as I flicked my eyes over the ridge that rose to our legion’s left. Lionel and Laney were still in their scouting position to the legion’s side, but aside from the tense expressions on their faces, they didn’t seem to know what was coming. Only the surprise that befell Laney’s features betrayed some sort of rising understanding.

So the next shout came from me. “Lionel!” I screamed as my fingers tightened on the hilt of my blade. The steel sliced through the air as I ran with it, pushing out the aches in my bones and preparing for whatever was to come.

Lionel turned, brushing strands of black hair from his forehead. When he saw me running, he only raised an eyebrow. “Agil? What are you—”

I was already shaking my head. “No time. The side path up ahead!”

The raven-haired ranger stiffened. His nose twitching. Then he turned and scoured the ridge ahead of them. From the crumbling side path that cut through the ridge, smoke still rose. It was faint and barely noticeable against the mountainous scenery behind it, but the smell was there.

And Lionel noticed.

He surged, flashing an alarming expression at Laney once before running forward. For them, the rocky side path was only a handful of paces away. For me, it was still dozens. I gritted my teeth and pushed harder, forcing myself faster.

Before I knew it, Lionel had hunched over and crept toward the path’s mouth. The place where it led off from the main road that the rest of the legion was walking on. Almost a dozen paces away, knights were perking up. They were looking between all three of us and starting into positions.

After only another second, Laney was by Lionel’s side. She held as determined of an expression as she could while she took out her bow. As she thumbed through arrows and got ready to put holes in whoever was around the corner.

Darting my eyes up, the smoke only got thicker. And the longer I looked, the more and more the red glow of fire became visible. Though, I didn’t even have the time to alert my fellow rangers before Lionel lurched forward.

With his knife out and a wicked smile sprawled across his lips, he leapt from behind the stone. His eyes flared with energy. He licked his lips. And as his long, ever-sharp knife cut through the air, I was sure whoever had been waiting for our arrival was in for some pain.

“Shit,” Lionel grunted.

Or maybe not.

The raven-haired ranger ducked, gasping as fire flew over his head. My heart nearly stopped when I saw the red tinge lining its flames. As I remembered the sweltering heat and the searing burns from when I’d fought Keris all those months back, I only moved faster.

I watched in terror as Lionel weaved away. He veered from the flames as quickly as he could and covered the distance back to safety with only a little bit of burnt hair. I could hear him swearing from across the entire side lane.

Beside the legion, running as space both for clearance and for scouts watching the sides, was a section that none of the knights were allowed to walk. In our organized marching order, the main force was only delegated a certain area that barely gave them enough room to move. Faster travel was the logic Lady Amelia had used when initially describing it. But now, all it did was hinder the knights’ ability to be battle-ready.

I swore under my breath, weaving over the uneven stone and toward my fellow rangers. As Lionel pressed back to cover, he muttered something to Laney under his breath. She froze for a moment then shook her head. And before I could call out to either of them, she’d already pushed forward with an arrow notched in her bow.

Only to meet more flames.

Laney cursed, her high-pitched voice almost piercing as she moved. Quicker than I’d assumed her to be, she dropped her arrow and swept a hand through the air in front of her. The energy spiraling in her eyes and the lightness that tingled against my skin through the flood of magic told me what I needed to know.

She ducked a second later, barely getting away from the fire. And as the flames split, slowing and dwindling while they moved through the air where her hand had been, I knew she’d done something.

Before she could get seared again, she leapt backward to where Lionel was still standing at the ready. Cursing up a storm, she tried to calm her breath. She tried to steady herself as she pressed into the steep rock of the ridge.

Lionel, however, obviously had more to do. He clenched his jaw and twisted, holding his knife dangerously. His hand flew out to push Laney behind him before he growled and lurched forward.

As soon as he entered the open sightline of the side-path, he ducked. A small tendril of flame missed him easily as he swerved and lunged, his feet pushing into the ground with a firm seriousness I knew only he could muster. He wasn’t intimidated. I had to be thankful for that—for the fact that his magical abilities to have control over his emotions were as useful as they were in a fight.

Although, I reminded myself, sometimes fearlessness had its disadvantages.

Blue cloth streamed through my vision as I passed Laney. She hissed as she drew her bow back up and notched an arrow in it. In the corner of my eye, I saw the struggle to keep her fingers from trembling.

I didn’t get much time to think about it as my body flew into the mouth of the path that Lionel was already fighting in. Disregarding the metallic clamor from knights beside me, I scoured the space. I looked over the narrow, crumbling path that led through the ridge until it turned off behind where I could see. Though, I didn’t spare much attention at things beyond my horizon.

At first, my eyes darted to Lionel. The raven-haired ranger was unflinching as he danced with a cultist in front of him. An actual cultist, I told myself. Because despite the fact that I’d never seen one, I could tell who the grinning person was. In their grey robes covered only in light armor that was lined with red, they weren’t hard to pick out.

As far as I saw, there were half a dozen of them in the narrow mountain pathway. Most held two curved, serrated knives, and wore the same kind of armor as the man fighting Lionel. But aside from only one other cultist who was now rushing toward me, all of the others were stationed further back.

They were watching, I ventured. Or, as was probably more truthful, they were providing support in the form of skin-melting fire. My eyes even focused on one of the cultists in particular—a dark-haired woman in fitting grey robes—who wasn’t wearing armor at all. Though, I was more interested in the scorched metal gauntlets covering her clenched fists.

A shriek of clashing metal accentuated the memory of Keris as it rose. I shook it away as quickly as I could and scrambled backward, forcing the knives off of where I’d caught them on my blade.

I had to stay focused, I reminded myself. There was no time to dwell on the past.

The cultist in front of me blinked in apparent surprise before lunging forward again. His curved knives moved like a whirlwind through the air. And while my keen eyes could track them, I didn’t feel the same way about catching them again. I dodged.

My body lurched out of the way, still twitching with the white flame’s energy. I held onto that and trusted it to protect me. To keep my blood from staining the stone below. The cultist stumbled as his knives met only air.

I took advantage of that in short time. Stepping up, I studied his faulty guard and found an opportunity to attack. Bringing my sword under his arm, I whipped my wrist forward to dart my blade at his chest. He noticed before I could execute, though, and was already bounding away.

That was fine, though. I’d planned for that.

As soon as his feet touched back on the ground, he adjusted his grip. He spent half a second too long with his attention away from me. A time that cost him dearly as I flashed my blade over his palm and knocked the knife away.

He screamed, coughing only an instant later as blood poured out over his hand. The serrated knife clattered uselessly to the stone. He glanced down to it, but I was already moving again.

Forcing myself forward with my muscles tense and my guard up, I swiped the man again. He stumbled. Words died in his throat. And I kicked the knife away.

A grin grew across my lips as I listened to the thunder of my pulse. As I felt my chest rise and fall in a rhythm that felt right. The rhythm of battle, I reminded myself. I’d spent my entire past life getting acquainted with it. It was nice to remember sometimes.

Bright red flashed in my vision.

I gasped, barely even getting a full breath of the burning air before my instincts carried me away. The flame licked my defending arm, scorching through my uniform and leaving a burn in its wake.

My teeth locked together to keep a scream inside. Instead, I tried to steady my breath. I tried to refocus on my target and not get burned again. I pushed away the pain and made sure I was still ready on my toes.

“Shields up!” somebody bellowed behind me. Lady Amelia, I recognized after a muddled moment of thought. At once, a flurry of coordinated metallic movements enveloped my periphery with shining steel.

More flames came a second later.

I moved, steeling myself and avoiding the absolute wave of fire that cascaded through the air. I blinked as the information processed through my brain. It hadn’t come from my enemy, I realized. Not the cultist I’d been fighting, anyway. It had come from further back, and it had been aimed more at the knights than anyone in general.

As the rolling fire dispersed, leaving an orange haze tinged with red, my cultist smiled. He stepped forward and wiped the blood from his wounded hand on cloth. Completely unburned.

Swallowing my surprise, I tightened my grip and stepped up to match the man. I watched him carefully, taking the spare moment of calm to note the locations of my fellow rangers. Lionel was back behind the stone ridge while standing in front of Laney.

And beyond the cultist who was still staring me down, Kye’s form rushed into view.

I smiled.

The wild man in front of me became tired of waiting and lurched. The grin at my lips only grew. I’d baited him into returning to the attack and it had worked. With his arm flailing as it was, the limited range of his knife only became a detriment. As long as I didn’t get forced into defense, I could exploit the weakness with ease.

Which, as the next few seconds washed by, was exactly what I did. The man staggered as his blade missed me by inches. His eyes widened, but I didn’t let them get far. Twisting around, I pushed straight into his chest with my off hand and brought my blade down on his side.

He tumbled backward, skidding across stone while twisting away from his strike. After my blade missed him, he only barely balanced. But as soon as he did, his eyes were back on me. They flared out at the irises, tinging a familiar fiery color at the edges.

I was already skittering away.

The flame came at me like a snake, whipping through the air and darting for my neck. I pushed away with my feet and stumbled back along the sightline of the side-path. The cold shot of fear was the only thing that saved me from the second burst of fire that came hurtling my way.

Smoke filled my nostrils, draping the whole world in a rancid stench. I shook my head, feeling the now-blistering air against my burn. I didn’t mind, however, and I returned focus to my enemy.

The man cackled, his eyes alight with energy. The light, smoky feeling in the air only increased as he went back to casting. But there wasn’t any more fire. Instead, he simply threw himself at me with all of the ferocity he could muster.

I shook off the strike. The clang of metal on metal tore through the air as his arm was wrenched sideways at my deflect. Though, even as he grunted in pain, the man didn’t let up. He just kept moving at me and swiping like he had no regard for his life. Which, as I stared into the fiery, rage-fueled eyes of his, didn’t sound all that implausible.

“Agil!” a voice screamed. I froze, shuffling back a step as the call churned through my mind. It had come from behind me. It was familiar.

And I ducked as soon as I realized who it was.

The arrow came streaking through a second later. A shriek from the savage cultist followed in its wake, along with a dry laugh as Kye relished in her shot. I laughed as well, a sort of strange amusement overtaking my body while I swung my blade.

By the time I’d cut toward him, he’d only just torn the arrow from where it had pierced the hide-like armor on his chest. I struck him exactly at center mass, forcing a muffled scream from his mouth. Then I twisted, my feet moving in perfect rhythm, and sliced the man across his unscathed arm.

The next sound I heard was his body falling to the ground. The curved knife followed, clattering on stone beside him as he writhed in agony. I scowled down at him, taking the moment for myself before cutting his hand again and stabbing right through his leg.

He wailed in pain—a wail I didn’t ever think I’d fully get used to. But I simply turned my attention elsewhere instead of ending his suffering. It was a custom of mine, I slowly remembered. Non-lethal attacks against humans. I’d formed it as a knight back in Credon. These people were… vicious—but they were still people.

Some part of me thought it was important to remember that.

That part of me was silenced as knights screamed right in my ear. Wincing, I whirled around to find the more lightly-armored of the knights rushing past. They were charging at the entrance of the side-path. For a moment, I wondered why, but the sound of crazed growling coming from the narrow passage cleared everything up.

I took a breath and slumped my shoulders, reassured for the time being that I wasn’t about to get cooked alive.

That assumption, however, wasn’t entirely correct.

Flashes of red. A lot of stumbling. Screams, shouts, and a burning pain.

Sensations came in sudden waves as my body moved. Air zipped around my ears. Flame licked against my skin. Balance fled from my spinning form as I desperately tried to move out of the way.

And before I knew it, I was lying on the ground.

Aches crept up my side as I pushed off the stone below. Blinking, I coughed out the bursts of smoke and tried to orient myself. I was on the ground, yes, but not where I’d been standing moments before. I was more than a dozen paces away and surrounded by knights.

“For the world’s—” one knight started. I whipped my head around.

“Rik, if you don’t move I’ll—” came a completely different voice. I blinked and tried to identify it.

“Pick him off the ground, will you?” a third voice asked. I squeezed my eyes shut and shook my head as I tried to find who it had come from. As a knight reached his hand down to my crouching form, though, I figured it wasn’t worth the trouble.

“Thanks,” I said as the plate-covered man pulled me up. He nodded to me once, flashing half a smile before turning back front. Slowly, I remembered our situation and spun around as well.

The side-path that the cultists had ambushed us through sprawled in front of me. After about a dozen paces of flat stone, where there had previously only been Lionel and two cultists, there were now too many people to keep track of. Even as my crystal eyes flicked around, I could only focus on one or two forms at a time. The mass of rangers and knights going against Rath’s robed followers was entirely chaos.

Chaos that, as I was figuring out, was only furthered by the fact that the three knife-wielders who’d been standing further back before were now fighting in the thick of it. The woman wearing scorched gauntlets, however, was not. She still stood on a rocky surface multiple paces back with her eyes scanning the scene.

When they brushed over me, they froze in place.

My breath caught as her eyes met mine. A dim blue lined with that same color again. The color I’d seen in Keris’ eyes all those months ago. One that I could only describe as that of an undying flame.

The dark-haired woman smirked as she saw me. She raised her hands and gritted her teeth, sparking a ball of fire before throwing it my way.

I ducked, cowering near the floor again in hope that the ball would miss me. In hope that I would not have my rematch with the beast while my skin was charred and peeling. The white flame reacted to that thought and brushed the inside of my skull furiously.

After a few seconds, though, the fire never came. The wave of heat that I’d assumed would take me to the grave was stopped in its tracks by a shield.

The knight right ahead of me teetered as her guard broke. But despite the way her armor scorched, she smiled and turned back to me. “Let’s get moving then, alright?”

I nodded briskly and rose back to a stand. Before I knew it, my feet were pounding on the stone again and my eyes were scouring the scene. But I wasn’t watching the anarchic fighting at the side-path’s mouth. I was looking well above that—at the woman who’d tried to end my life.

She sneered as our eyes met. Then the smirk came back and she exploded to life. In movements that shouldn’t have been possible for her scrappy form, she clambered up the rock to her right. She forced hand-holds into the stone simply by cracking it with the force of her fingers. And then she pulled herself up.

My eyes widened. Blood thundered in my ears. The shouting continued around me. But I blocked all of it out. I just tried to keep track of the woman as she sprinted overtop of the ridge and toward the rear of our legion.

In the corner of my eye, Kye let off another arrow with a grin.

“Kye!” I yelled, twisting and pointing at the woman racing over unstable rock. “The woman in grey!”

The huntress froze, her eyes flicking to meet mine. For a second, she curled her lip. But the dead-serious expression on my face stopped that. Instead, she turned on her heel and scoured the ridge to meet the pyromancer still running up there.

“Got it,” Kye yelled back before taking another arrow and aiming at the woman.

I nodded, too breathless to say anything else while I raced forward. The same stone that had flown under my feet only a minute before passed by with barely a thought. Barely a thought other than my fears, that was.

“World’s dammit,” Kye said as I came up to her. Flicking my eyes back out, I saw the form of her arrow sliding down the ridge in a bent and useless state. I cringed, bobbing my head briefly.

“She…” I took a deep breath. The light air scraped through my lungs. “The ringleader. The most powerful—whatever you want to call it.” I pointed at the still-smiling woman who was now sliding down the ridge’s steep slope like it was nothing. Her ash-black boots didn’t even smudge. “She’s priority number one.”

“Right,” Kye spat before circling around. Following her lead, we both moved back to where our backing party was station. Toward where Fyn and the rest of the knights were simply watching the action.

Some part of me wanted to spite them for not helping, but my faded experiences corrected it. We had an oppressive force here on this mountain pass, but that didn’t mean they could all be used. If too many went in to fight, it would only weaken and confuse.

Though, with the threat that was currently blindsiding them all, I almost spited them anyway.

I didn’t get the chance. The woman leapt before she slid to the ground, and her form crashed only a handful of paces away from me.

My muscles screeched to a halt. I turned, meeting the woman’s eyes. This time, she was within my blade’s reach, however. She wasn’t a distant, torturous entity that could cook me alive. I could fight her, I screamed at myself.

But for some reason, that didn’t inspire me to attack. Instead, it got my thoughts moving in another way. It brought up questions about the woman and her power—questions that connected all the way back to when Keris had stolen from Norn.

“Who are you?” I asked through gritted teeth. Kye glared at me in the corner of my vision as she converged on my position.

The woman in front of me only continued to smirk. Then she rubbed the fingers of her metal gauntlet together and locked her gaze with mine.

“Do not ask questions you would rather not hear answered.”

I shuddered, the words worming into my ears. Looking back, I didn’t even know if I’d seen her mouth move. She’d simply translated the words into my mind. It reminded me far too much of a certain pyromancer before—

A bowstring flicked right behind me. I jumped, twisting around to see Kye’s determined expression. She notched another arrow and let that one loose before the first one had even hit.

But as I looked back, I realized the first one was never going to hit. The woman had ducked it easily. And she’d sidestepped the next as well.

The pyromancer tilted her head, her eyes flashing dangerously. The air around her lightened, pulsing as she started to cast. And before I knew it, she’d raised her hand and pointed directly at me.

I dashed, ducking low and throwing myself to the side. My metal boots scraped on the stone as I stabilized and looked back to the crazed woman. I expected to see fire erupting in front of her—some kind of show of magical power. But instead, she just stood stock-still.

After a moment, her head shook slightly. She clenched her jaw and strained her neck as she tried to look over at me. But something was stopping her. Some force was keeping her locked in place.

My eyes widened. I whipped my head around and scanned the area, only stopping at Fyn’s strained face. The knight stepped forward, heaving breaths while he gave the woman a death-stare. She kept resisting, fire sparking in her scorched hands before dying out as Fyn regained control.

He was doing it again, I realized. Somehow, his soul was best attuned for manipulating the energy of other creatures. It was the kind of energy manipulation that was intricate and complex while also difficult because of an organism’s innate resistance. He, however, was able to do it.

Though, not for very long. Casting for even the time that he had been, he was already letting up. His soul was already nearing its limits and the woman was already starting to break free. Every time she tried, the fire in her hand would grow higher. It grew brighter and burned longer.

Kye took advantage of the opportunity.

In the corner of my eye, she notched another arrow and let it loose. Then another. Pained, strangled grunts followed as the arrows both struck right through the woman’s grey robes. She’d had no chance of dodging. But even as blood poured out of her shoulder and her gut, she kept resisting Fyn’s magic.

Her tactics changed, even. Instead of trying to form fire in her hand, she focused her attention to the ground. As she forced herself to step forward, a red flame sparked up on the stone and darted toward where Fyn stood paces away.

“Fyn!” I yelled, surging into action toward the woman. But it was already too late. The red flame jolted from the ground and wrapped around Fyn’s leg.

The knight screamed, relinquishing his attention and letting her magic burn even brighter. As he stumbled sideways and shook his plate-armored leg, the fire only latched on harder.

I growled, flicking my gaze back to the pyromancer who was now cauterizing her wounds. Before my fear could stop me, I raised my sword and slashed at her immobile shoulder. My form was already twisting away before she would be able to strike back.

She didn’t need to strike back, though. Instead of connecting with flesh as I’d intended, my blade only struck on metal. Her gauntlet resisted the force I’d pushed down and threw me back like it was the most natural thing in the world.

My heart hammered against my ribcage as the contact felt all too familiar. As memories of the past streamed back, coated in resentment and disappointment. Keris had done the same thing.

Fyn’s shriek drew me out of my thoughts. I turned, my eyes widening on the normally-cheerful knight. He was still kicking his foot in a desperate attempt to force the red flame away. But it wouldn’t leave. It was seared straight on. And after a while, as the pyromancer’s eyes became narrowed and bloodshot, the flame tore right through the plated metal and burned at his skin.

The dark-haired woman hissed a second later. She smiled, her eyes flashing and her nostrils flaring as she turned back to Kye. The huntress bared her teeth and glanced down at her slowly-emptying quiver before pulling another arrow.

Before Kye could get another shot out, the woman was already moving. She pushed off the ground and ran straight through Kye’s line of sight, confusing the huntress just enough to make her hesitate. And that momentary hesitation was all the cult-woman needed.

She ducked her head low and curled her lip, letting red fire spawn through the air in front of her and explode outward.

“Fucking—” was all I heard Kye say before she threw herself to the ground. After the flames cleared, she continued letting off a slew of curses, but she sat back up.

The pyromancer, however, didn’t even seem to care. She stepped over the huntress without a second thought and walked over toward the rest of the backing party.

I gritted my teeth and pushed after her, the white flame only pouring more fuel into my veins. My feet slammed into the stone and I—

I stopped. A soft whimper broke through the background chaos just loud enough for me to hear. I slowed. My legs relaxed and I skidded to a halt next to where Fyn was still lying on the ground. My heart dropped at the sight of him locking his teeth in pain and trying his best not to wail.

Glancing backward, I saw Kye picking herself up and showing only pure frustration. But she was fine. Fyn, on the other hand…

“Fyn?” I asked, crouching down to the knight while keeping the retreating pyromancer in the corner of my view. “Hey. Are you alright?”

The knight winced, dragging his head off the rock below. “Agil? What are—”

“Are you alright?” I repeated, putting more force into my tone. Fyn’s face changed, dawning a more serious mask before he nodded. A sigh of relief fell from my lips at that. And even though I could see the horrible burn on his leg where the armor had been eaten through, he was aware enough to acknowledge my question. That was good. He would be okay, I told myself. I wouldn’t be giving someone to the beast today.

“World’s fucking dammit,” Kye said next to me.

I turned, glaring at the seething huntress. “What?”

“That bitch,” she spat, already reaching for another arrow. “I…” She coughed. Then shook her head. “She won’t slow down, dammit. I can’t even get—”

“Kye!” Another voice. Distant this time. And without glancing back, I vaguely paired it to Laney’s face.

My companion froze, her head turning slowly. Then she released a round of curses even more foul than before and rushed off. Off toward where Laney had called her, I realized. Not toward the pyromancer who was still moving to wreak havoc on the rest of our party.

Part of me screamed to look back—to see what about the main fight had made Kye move so quickly. But Laney hadn’t called me, I told myself. She had called Kye, and Kye had gone. If she was enough, I would have to trust that she was enough.

I had bigger things to worry about anyway.

“I’ll distract her,” I said, half to Fyn and half to myself. Then I turned to the whimpering knight. “Get to the main group. Don’t make noise—stay out of the way, okay?”

Fyn nodded briskly at that before picking himself up into a hobbled crouch and starting off. I watched him go for only a moment while briefly reminiscing about giving orders to knights back in my home kingdom. Then I shook my head and broke back out into a run.

Once again, I held my sword at the ready. Once again, my feet flew over the stone. Once again, I felt the white flame stoking my battle-fueled fire.

None of my actions were designed to hide my presence. That wasn’t necessary against the woman I was about to face. She knew where I was, and she was more powerful than me regardless. I just had to attack as painfully as I could.

And as she neared the cliff’s edge, I knew exactly how to do it.

The pyromancer turned to me lazily, starting to laugh her amusement straight into my ears as fire sparked in her fingers. She’d known I was coming, but I hadn’t planned on surprise.

I came in head-on.

After pleading with the white flame, I accepted it into my soul. Its presence followed in time, only sharing the briefest of complaints. At once, the air around me felt lighter. It felt full of energy—malleable and shapeable to my will. But I didn’t have time to be creative; I did what I knew.

White sparks erupted over my blade as I swung out.

The woman’s eyes widened a fraction. She took a step back and sent pebbles streaming down the cliff. But she didn’t have the option of doubting herself. So she kept her hands outstretched and ready.

My sword came through like a boulder. In a flash of flaming white, my steel overpowered her red sparks and cut right through her grasp. For a moment, it got caught in her metal gauntlets, but a little more force solved that problem for me.

She cursed as I broke her guard. Except I wasn’t done. Before she could act on her rage, I ducked. I kept my momentum going and slid, pushing upward at the last moment to send her tumbling backward.

A tendril of flame struck past my head, missing me by inches before her body fell over the edge. Before the exclamations leaving her vile tongue were muffled by distance while she plummeted to her death. I almost felt bad as she went to suffer the whole way down, but—

A metallic thud.

I froze, blinking at the air in front of me. In the corner of my vision, I could see the two other members of our backing party gawking at me in shock. But I didn’t care about them. No. I crept forward step by step until I found myself at the cliff’s edge.

And as unluck would have it, there was a shelf less than a dozen paces below me that was shielded by a high jutting rock. The pyromancer was coughing near the center of that shelf and forcing herself to a stand on shaky legs.

I jumped down without a second thought.

I went to end it and get answers before the woman became too dangerous again. The plan of attack formed in my head only seconds before I executed it as my feet slammed into the ground painfully. I shook it off and stepped forward, holding my blade to the woman’s neck.

She stopped, her eyes flicking down to the metal that could end her life in an instant. Then she smirked.

“You must know I could still raze your bones to ash,” she said.

I shook my head and pressed the steel into her skin softly. She raised her chin at that, swallowing carefully.

She was bluffing. I knew that she was. With the blood running out of her nose and the weary look in her eyes, she had to be deep in soul drain. She’d been casting almost the entire battle, and she was wounded on top of that. No, I thought to myself. There were answers to get.

“Who are you?” I asked, my tone cold and sharp. “What are you doing attacking a legion that far outmatches you?”

The woman simply smirked and gestured to the sword against her neck. Gritting my teeth, I pulled it back an inch. She nodded gratefully. “My name is Petra.”

I furrowed my brow. “What? Why are you—”

“You’re a ranger, aren’t you?” she asked while her eyes looked me up and down.

My blood ran a frigid cold. “Yes, but what are you—”

She cackled. A true, sick, crazed cackle that echoed off the mountains for millions of paces around. One that overpowered all sounds of fighting above and distracted me long enough for her to make progress.

Raising her scorch-steel fingers, she whispered something into the wind. And shaking her head in what looked to be extreme struggle, an orange flame grew on her fingertip. It wasn’t tinged with any red this time.

“They’re from Sarin,” she whispered to it before throwing it into the air and letting the thing drift away. Even despite the rolling wind, the small flame continued to burn until it left my sight completely.

My jaw went slack as I stared back at the woman. Petra, she’d called herself. But as the white flame latched onto her previous words and wrapped itself tightly around my neck, I could only feel an urge to call her dead. She’d mentioned Sarin, after all.

Home—the white flame said.

“What did you just do?” I asked as control slipped away from me and the white flame overwhelmed. I tried to fight it down, but it simply kept repeating the same word over and over as it rose.

Home.

Petra stumbled backward, her eyes dropping. She coughed horribly and spat blood onto the stone below before falling to the ground. Not a single grunt of pain slipped between her lips as she went.

“What did you do?” I repeated.

She smirked at me. “Exertion on my soul has taken me already.”

I wanted to ask what she meant—wanted to press further about the message she’d whispered and then thrown into the air. But I didn’t get to. My vision became lined with a bright haze of white and I lost all control.

In the next few seconds, the woman’s death became assured. As the white flame flared out and wrapped my entire body in swirling flame—burning the blood from my blade and exhaustion from my bones—it burned Petra in the same way she had burned me.

Flash after flash, my blade burned white-hot. It burned all blood away and decorated her skin with a series of cuts, stabs, and burns. After only a few seconds of it, I was sure she’d died, but the white flame hadn’t let up. It had erupted in some kind of otherworldly frustration spawning from deep within. Something I had yet to understand.

Eventually though, it did stop. It did give me back control enough to take deep breaths. It gave me enough control to realize I was still on a shelf and I had to climb out.

I did so wordlessly.

By the time I was back on the mountain pass above, my brain was rattled. The white flame had receded away, the headache of soul drain had already pressed in, and my eyes had started burning from the sights I’d exposed them to.

“Agil!” called a familiar voice. I turned lazily as Kye approached. “The rest of the ambushing party was handled.” She took a deep breath. “Minimal injuries on our side—and none of them appear to have any… reason for this.” Then, after a moment, her lips curled into a sneer. “Where’s the bitch?”

“She’s dead,” I said through my headache, making sure there was no room for discussion.

Kye eyed me after that, but she held her tongue. We walked in silence back to the rest of our legion.

If she noticed, she didn’t comment on the fact that my blade didn’t show a drop of blood.