“Come here. I said come here. I promise you'll like it. I'll give you a big hug. Isn't that nice?” Nothing. “Come here or I swear I'll destroy you. No?” Her voice becomes conciliatory. “Ok, ok, I'm sorry I threatened to destroy you. Now will you come here? You won't? But I apologised! What if I said please? Please, please, please come here. I'm begging you.” Ariel watches in disbelief as Salaya drops to her knees. The cat, a fat brown specimen, turns away, its attention captivated by the allure of sun on a warm stone. “No, please come back. I'll do anything!” pleads Salaya, but the cat whisks off, its tail waving carelessly behind it.

“Do we say anything?” asks Eje, leaning against the castle wall. She and Ariel watch as Salaya covers her face in her hands. “If I were on the verge of tears over a stray cat, I wouldn't want anyone to know about it.”

“She's in the open.” says Ariel. “It's fine.” She comes up behind Salaya who's now very obviously pretending to cry and peering through her fingers to see if the cat is noticing. It isn't. “Having a hard time?” says Ariel. Salaya gives a small squeak like a mouse being trod on and leaps to her feet.

“You didn't, um, see all that, did you?” Salaya asks.

“I tried to look away,” says Ariel, “but I couldn't.”

“Aha, how awkward.” If Salaya's face were any redder it might burst. “I like cats, you see, it's just that they don't like me back. I've seen that one around the castle a few times. I think he's kept around to chase mice, so I named him Stalker. He's so fluffy, Ariel, I just can't get near him.” She sighs then lowers her voice and takes Ariel by the shoulder. “Don't tell Eje about this. She'll probably sneer at me.”

“Don't tell me what?” says Eje, joining them.

“Oh, it's nothing, right, Ariel?”

“That's right. Let's go check on the mission board and see if anything's been added.” Salaya beams and when she turns her head, Eje gives Ariel a wink.

Ariel is still trying to get a grip on Eje's personality, but she's always moving. While others stand, Eje shifts from one leg to another, or paces. While others walk, Eje has a stiff stride that belies her short legs, as though always on the verge of running. She occasionally lowers herself as though creeping, or hops from flagstone to flagstone and over flowers. She behaves like she fights: smoky and elusive. She has a sense of humour, but doesn't seem like the sort who appreciates being mocked. She's quick to praise and fast to lose her temper. After their argument, she refused to speak to Octave all the way back to the castle, then she lost her temper when she had no clean laundry and wouldn't go to bed until Ariel lent her a fresh shirt. Eje is what Ariel's mother would call an 'f personality': fast, forceful, and fickle. She hasn't shown her nasty side again like she did after the war game, but Ariel is a little more careful than normal to stay on her good side.

“Still no new missions.” laments Eje. She takes off her cap and fans her face with it. “Are we really the only team back? At least we got a few merit points for smashing those bandits.” Their score has been updated from zero merit now to eight. “Ugh, barely worth it.”

“Looks that way.” says Salaya. “And there is a new mission. Right there, it's to escort a courier to Felsdown then back here for an important shipment. That's the nearest city; should only take the day.”

“I've never done guard work.” says Ariel. “I wonder what it's like.”

“Boring.” says Eje, slapping her cap back on and pushing it over her hair. “Let's take the day off and spar. Or we could work on new spells.”

“It's better than nothing though. It's imperative that we collect as much merit as possible. Do you want to listen to Brant brag about how great he is again?” insists Salaya, her voice rising in pitch, becoming frantic as she does when the thought of being compared to her peers arises.

“No, but I bet you do.” mutters Eje.

“Let's just take the mission.” says Ariel. We should have some time to work on our magic if we can ride in the wagon.”

“Fine, fine. I'll mark it off.”

“Now we need to find Octave.” says Salaya. “I wonder where she sleeps. Does she have a room, or is she in a tent with the temporaries?” They look around, as if expecting to see Octave hiding behind the sundial, or escorting a porter with a sack of apples. Even Eje helps out, though with little enthusiasm. Ariel is just about to suggest they try inside when she spies something in the distance, something ominous in its gait and build. “She's not here. Let's get going.” she urges.

“Alright, what's the rush? We have time before the shipment leaves.”

“Come on, please, I think I see Ridgeway coming.”

“Oh, your friend? Let's greet him.”

“Please, let's just go. Don't joke around like that, Eje. He worries me.”

“If you insist.” They leave, Ariel hurrying Salaya along. In the dining hall they spot Octave immediately. She's sitting alone, apart from the other mages and mercenaries, empty bowls stacked on plates. She must be on her fourth helping of porridge, and the crumbs of countless pastries litter the table around her.

“They're going to start charging us for our meals if you keep that up.” says Eje in that distinct tone of hers between gentle remonstration and mockery. “I fear for your wallet and your waistline.”

Octave shakes her head. “If they do that, they'll have to make their offerings worth buying.” she says. “I don't think it's worth the effort for them, no matter how charitable they feel toward my waistline.”

When she was younger, Ariel's father would sometimes hitch the family mare to a cart and take her on the long journey to the capital, Salkrit City. There he would meet old friends, settle the odd account, and show her the multicoloured trees in the royal park. But most importantly, he would take her to the Cap and Crown, one of the few bars patronized by nobles and commoners. There he would buy a mug of ale and a glass of tangerine juice, and they would sip their drinks under a marble arch overlooking the framed entrance and watch people come and go. In time, they became experts at it. No staring or anything to make it obvious, but subtle glances around the room, following from the corners of the eyes, and pretending to admire the paintings on the wall were all fine techniques. “See that one there?” Her father would say. “What do you think of him?” And Ariel would watch him for a few seconds, lean back in her chair, and gaze at the ceiling as she told her father about how he was a man of noble birth, loved by his parents but not by any woman, and how he yearned only to find a wife. Her father would laugh and then point out the details she had missed, like the fine hemming on the shirt and the brass ring on the finger, and surmise that he was married but not born of any noble family. Another woman walked through, her face obscured by a veil, and Ariel was certain she was meeting a mysterious lover, only for her father to point out it was only one of the barmaids with her hat askew.

Watching Octave and Eje now, Ariel has lost much of the romanticism of her childhood days, but nonetheless wonders how she and her father would interpret these two from beneath the arch of the Cap and Crown. Octave, an assured glutton with placid indifference mistakable for confidence; Eje, small and sardonic, each sentence a cushioned blow intended to what? To establish dominance? To goad Octave into emotion? Perhaps Eje enjoys speaking to someone who speaks back. At least that's what her father would say. He wouldn't notice lingering resentment. He would say that they're old friends.

“We've chosen a mission.” says Salaya. “Can you come?”

“I suppose that's my job.”

Octave gets up. A passing kitchen worker glances over her place with dismay. Ariel expects Eje to say something scathing, but Eje's attention is elsewhere. “Finally.” she says, waving. “Over here.” A woman, older than Eje but younger than Octave comes over. She's in a dark frock carrying a bag over her shoulder. “Have you finally got it, Trila?”

“Yes, the clothes are all washed and dried, miss.” she says.

“Great. Just be a dear and drop them off in my room, would you?” The girl nods and takes her leave.

Salaya looks like she's trying not laugh. “What was that?” she asks as they make their way out.

“What?” asks Eje.

“You have a maid?”

“Don't you?”

“Of course not. Where are you keeping her?”

“Oh, father's renting her a room in Lakeview.” says Eje. “She comes by to do laundry, bring food, and perform other tasks. It's extremely helpful to have a maid, and Trila's been with us for ages. I highly recommend you also get your maids a place in town.”

“Eje,” says Salaya, taking a delicate tone, “I don't think any of us have maids to begin with.”

“Come on. Not even one to help out at home?”

“I certainly don't.” says Ariel. Octave only chuckles.

Eje looks puzzled. “Why not?”

The stables reek of donkey and horse. Straw is piled in one corner for bedding, hay in another for feed. The scents are nothing new to Ariel, however she's used to a slightly smaller and cleaner operation, and soon steps in something she wishes she hadn't. Whimpering, she casts about for a source of water to clean off her calf-skin boot. The courier they've been assigned is a man of at least fifty. He wheezes a cheery greeting at them through a greying beard. “Now then, lasses. You must be my personal escort. I've never had so many pretty bodyguards before.” When he laughs, it sounds as though he's asphyxiating. “By the way, young lass, I wouldn't put my foot in that bucket if I were you. 'Taint water there.” Ariel pulls her foot away so fast she has to grab a post to steady herself. She finally settles on giving her boot a vigorous rub in a pile of straw.

“It's your lucky day.” says Eje. “No harm can befall you with us around. I'll just need you to sign our logbook and it will be official.”

The man obliges, his calloused hands and sunburnt arms scrawling an elegant 'Nobert'. “Now why don't you all hop in the back of the cart. Shouldn't be any problem while it's empty. I'll just get old Buttercup's feedbag sorted out and we'll be able to leave early.” The cart is just beyond the lopsided stable gates, and the team climbs up the side, Eje hopping over the edge like a frog and Ariel needing a hand up. Nobert leads out Buttercup and they exchange looks as if wondering how this bony creature can possibly make the trip. “Now don't you worry about Buttercup none.” chastises Nobert. “He looks like he's about to fall apart like a stack of twigs, but he's a tough old brute is Buttercup. Was hauling carts before any of you were crawling.” He gives Buttercup an affectionate smack on the side, and the horse snorts and stamps his hooves.

“Should we have packed a lunch?” asks Octave. They agree they probably should have, but are unsure of what action to take.

“And we're off!” cries Nobert. He clambers into the coach's seat and gives the reigns a shake. Buttercup snorts in protest, as does an axle, but eventually clops along and the cart fairly zooms out of the castle's front gate. Soon small houses crop up, luscious front gardens sprout, and spindly little tables sit outside of front doors with old men gathered around them playing chess. Larger houses begin to emerge, then halls and businesses.

“I think that's where Trila's renting a room.” says Eje, pointing at red brick building.

“Lakeview is a nice town.” remarks Ariel. “I really want to visit sometime.”

“We can visit together when we get back.” says Salaya. Ariel laughs as though it's a quaint idea, but secretly is thankful to have the company. King's Lake itself lies off to the side, no longer a dark zone in the distance but a murky green reservoir, long and narrow between the flanking mountains, and chillingly deep. It's said that even a water mage would drown before sinking to the bottom. Ariel shudders; no wonder she switched from water to conjuration magic.

Past the town, the cobblestone street becomes packed earth covered by a thin layer of dust that rises and settles behind them like the train of a dress. Eje and Octave take corners of the cart, while Ariel and Salaya sit side by side. Salaya leans back with a sigh of satisfaction. Her long hair hangs over the side of the cart and her hand reaches out to pluck the odd leaf growing too near the road. When she has enough leaves, she overlaps them into a fan. “I've decided,” she beams fanning herself, “that all people are good. We're born that way, and there isn't a person who doesn't intrinsically understand the difference between right and wrong.”

“That's an interesting thought.” says Ariel. “When did you think of it?”

“I've thought it for a long time, but I only decided it this morning.”

“So why do people do wrong then?” asks Eje.

“Selfishness, anger.” says Salaya. “But even a thug knows that hurting others is wrong even if he does it.”

“Some people need hurting.” says Eje. “For example, I didn't see you trying to protect those bandits.”

“We weren't trying to hurt them though.” Salaya has never been so earnest. “We needed to stop them to keep people safe. I never want to hurt people, only protect them. That's why I came to Lakeview. That's why we're all here. Right?”

“Of course.” says Eje. “I know what many people think of me, but I believe that there is a daily struggle between good and evil, be it on the battlefield or in the heart. It's just not orcs either. If we find ourselves at war with Kalipernia, I'll be there too. This neverending struggle is what we all devote our lives to.”

“That's very poetic of you.” says Ariel. “And very convincing. What do you think of good and evil, Octave?”

Octave is gazing up at clouds in the sky. She lowers her head to face them. “I don't.” she says.

“But you are a good person, or strive to be, aren't you?”

“No.”

“Come now, Octave. We're all here for something greater. That should go without saying. For the honour of The King, for the good of the people. Don't tell me you care about money?”

“One cares about money only when one has not enough. I care a great deal about money.”

Ariel looks at her with shock. “And that's why you're here? You're getting paid?”

“Scarcely. But I don't have a say in the matter.”

“How so?”

Octave grimaces. “The guilds sold us out. I finally got into Bladesbury expecting good missions, and the guild masters sold us to the crown and their Branch of Logistics and Organisation like so much cattle. Excellent business for them, unfortunate for us. If you think the mercenaries around here look sullen, it's because they are. You on the other hand, you three are respectable. With some training and experience, you could demand good wages.”

“Fighting here is a privilege.” says Salaya. “I would feel wrong taking money to do it.”

“Without us, who would protect the people?” asks Ariel.

“Protect them from what, exactly? Lord Wolfsong of the Empty Forest?”

“Orcs, Octave. They're everywhere.”

“Orcs are a myth, Ariel. They're what mothers use to scare unruly children.”

“How can you say that when people are being killed by orcs?” demands Salaya. “They burn villages, slaughter caravans. I fought orcs before I came here. I saw them, I incinerated them. They burn like anything burns. Mercenaries are hired to hunt orcs, and we will be too. I believe we'll defeat the orcs sooner or later.”

“I don't.”

“Why not?” asks Eje. “I've seen them. Or their heads at least, rows upon rows of orcs heads displayed on spears. I've seen the soldiers who fought them. They exist, and we will destroy them. Why were you put on our team if not for this purpose?”

“Perhaps it was to teach me a lesson.” speculates Octave.

“I just don't understand why you would say they're not real when everyone says they are.” says Eje. “What do you think is attacking the villages then?”

Octave shrugs. “I don't like to speculate.”

“You can't just give noncommittal answers to everything.” says Salaya. “We'll have an orc hunt soon enough. You'll see it, and then you'll understand why evil must be stopped.”

“Evil? A concept somehow more imaginary than orcs.”

“You think nobody is evil?”

“Evil is a convenient way to denounce the people you dislike. Salaya was nearly right when she said all people are good. It's not true, but it is the case that all people share a common mentality. If one person is good, then all people are good; if one person is evil, we're all evil.”

“Goodness is a trait given to all people by the divine.” says Salaya. “Not everyone acts good, but if one person is a murderer, that doesn't mean that all people are evil.”

“You're conflating evil with murder.” says Octave, “But anyone is capable of murder, and everyone contemplates it at some point. Don't lecture me on good and evil until you've seen the world beyond your gates and walls. A murderer and a pacifist are separated only by circumstance. As for these orcs, think about what people say of them. That they're big and strong, that they speak no language, have no capacity for warding much less magic, that they're evil without justification. Why shouldn't orcs have natural warding? Are they not alive? If they aren't, how can they be evil? They wield weapons and work together but have no language? Even a wolf understands its mate's howl.” She sits up straight and leans forward to look the girls in the eyes. Her voice, always low, becomes menacing, each word measured and enunciated as though drawing a sword. “You may look down on me, and you should! But not for the reasons you think. I am not a good person, but there was a time when I thought I was. I cared about good and evil: no longer. Worry less about my outlook and more about the sort of world that would shape it.” In the silence that follows, Octave leans back against the wall of the cart, eyes following the clouds. Silence descends upon the team.

Located just beyond a rolling cluster of grassy downs, Felsdown stands at an intersection of trade running through the northern reaches of the Upper Realms. To the west, fertile farmland provides crops of wheat and barley. From the warm south, grapes are grown and fermented into wine and velvet brandy. Fish from the nearby King's River are brought to be dried and salted under the sun, attendants with sticks and slings driving away peckish birds. All goods are stored for a time in rows of underground warehouses, their tile roofs poking out of the ground like enormous mushrooms.

At warehouse six, Nobert presents a guard with a smile and a requisition form, and soon workers in patched tunics are loading the cart with oak barrels. “I hate to bring bad tidings, but it looks like you lasses will have to walk the road back.” he says. Ariel groans. “Well, I'll tell you what. There's a bit of room here in the corner. The four of you can take turns resting in the cart, but only if it don't tire Buttercup too much.”

“What's in the barrels?” asks Octave, surprising the girls by starting a conversation.

“It's only the finest wine of Pikis Valley down south, as per an exclusive order by Lakeview Castle.” says Nobert. “Course I won't be tasting it, but they at least give you lot a glass or two, no? Seeing as how you got it back safely.”

“Unlikely.” says Octave. “Pikis wine is for lords and ladies. It's for those who command.”

“Hey, Octave.” says Eje. “Which branch of magic do you think is stronger? Dusk or kinetic?” If anyone here has drunk Pikis wine, it's Eje.

“We may someday find out.” says Octave. They watch as the last barrel rolled up a ramp and dropped with a thud into the cart.

“Well, a quick stop for lunch and we should be back home before midnight.” says Nobert. “Hopefully they'll at least have a cup of ale waiting for your return.” Buttercup strains. His spindly legs tremble, and the cart creaks into movement. Eje walks behind it while Salaya and Ariel take either side. Octave and Nobert are still talking, and she walks up front beside him. “I've taken shipments all over the Upper Realms,” he's telling her, “and I remember every delivery like this dating all the way back to when I couldn't grow hair on my chin. Always a high priority order too. They want expensive wine, they want fine ham, they want cloves. One time I had to load up the cart with, you won't believe this, a single chess set. Custom ordered by some high-up lord who wanted to play chess up at the border past Lakeview. Poor Buttercup had to get it from Three Peaks to the west all the way over there in no more than two days, or I'd be in for it.”

“That's nothing.” says Octave. “I've seen shipments of wine get rejected because the barrels got scuffed along the way.”

“We'd better hope these ones don't slide around too much.” says Nobert. “There's always been something off about the ones born to wealth and power. Real power, you know, the sort with the money to have everything they want. They grow up with everything, and they just assume everything can be got for them whenever they feel like goat's cheese or Pikis wine. The shipments of flour to the castle will be short this week because I went to Felsdown when the other carts were visiting the farms. Without guards, I should point out.”

“They have their own priorities at the top.” says Octave. “Ranim Harki resides at the castle, but no matter how many logisticians they have, nobody will challenge the order because they don't see it as a problem so long as they have enough. Point it out to them, and they'll scratch their heads in confusion.”

“Sounds about right.” agrees Nobert. Ariel has an image of Ranim Harki, Captain Loswel, and other important figures sitting in the officials' dining hall directly above their own, sipping the Pikis wine from crystal cups. She wants nothing more than to look back and see if Eje is taking any of this personally, but she keeps her head forward as she walks.

“You really dislike like Ranim Harki, don't you?” pipes up Salaya.

“Doesn't everyone?” asks Octave. Nobert gives a wheezing laugh.

“Why though? Aren't we all on the same side?”

“That's a pessimistic outlook. You may view him as an ally; he views you as a number whose value he's already determined. Look into the Bridge Manoeuvres where he left an entire battalion to die. He would do the same to us if it were expedient. Logisticians think only in numerical terms. In a sense, I respect it. They've managed to calculate the morality out of their profession.”

More silence follows. Eje shifts to the front of the cart so as to avoid the dust spilling behind. Salaya begins to fall behind, unable to keep up with Buttercup's jerky but untiring pace. She rests for a time in the cart, head against a barrel, hair spilling over its side onto the floor. When the stars peer out in the night sky, she gives up her position so Ariel can have a break. Eje and Octave trudge on, Octave still talking to Nobert and nodding at his stories, Eje staring straight ahead. Ariel relaxes more and more as she grows accustomed to the jerky rolling of the cart. The stars seem to order themselves before her gaze into their constellations: The Knight, Mother and Son, The Crown. And of course her favourite, The Wayfarer. That earnest traveller who wanders through the night sky and folklore, spurred by the choices of others, searching for something to ascribe meaning to. Her mother would point him out to her before bed long ago. Ariel's eyes slowly droop and then close.

“She's out cold, isn't she?”

“Hey, wake up, dozy.” Ariel's eyes snap open. There was something she was supposed to be doing related to guarding, but it's hard to remember.

“We're back.” says Eje. “Good thing we didn't get ambushed, or we'd have had to protect you as well.”

“Oh no.” says Ariel. “I'm so sorry everyone. I really didn't mean to fall asleep there. Salaya, you could have waken me at any time to switch.”

“Don't worry about it.” says Salaya. “I needed the exercise anyway.” The castle stands directly in front of them, a handful of lights still flickering through barred windows.

“Careful now.” cackles Nobert. “Hop down but mind the lashings. There you go. I'll drop off the delivery and report it a success.” He stands up in his coach's seat and gives them a bow. “Thankee kindly for the escort and company, lasses. Best of luck to you all. I'd offer you a glass of wine, but I'm afraid it's against regulation.”

“Next time I see you in town, I'll buy you a drink.” says Octave.

“What time is it?” asks Ariel, watching his cart bump and jerk off toward the cellars in the back, Octave still walking alongside as she discusses the bars in Lakeview with Nobert.

Salaya flops down on the grass and stretches, her arms perpendicular to her body. “Probably around midnight.” she says. “My poor legs are aching. I don't look forward to tomorrow.” Eje sits down next to her, and Ariel stays standing, all too aware that her legs have spent most of the day resting. After a good stretch she climbs back to her feet. “It's actually not as bad as I thought it would be. I must be getting tougher.”

“I need to start getting tougher too.” says Ariel, as they walk back to the front door. They aren't the only ones returning so late. A few teams are trickling in and out, both mages and mercenaries. “I like to think if we were attacked, we could have won easily.”

“Absolutely.” says Salaya. “We're getting stronger by the day.”

“There you are, Ariel. Where have you been all day?” Ariel looks around for the source of the voice. It's right in front of her, emerging from the shadow under the castle parapet.

“I said, where have you been all day?” Ridgeway stands in front of her, face dark but beard still visible against the castle.

“Oh look, Ariel, it's your friend again.”

Ridgeway ignores her. “Why did you run from me this morning?” he demands. “I wanted to greet you, but you left when you saw me.”

“I didn't see you.” says Ariel. “I just had to go on a mission.”

“What mission was it?” he demands.

“Just guarding a shipment.” Ariel pulls on her reserves of confidence. “We don't really know each other, so I don't know why you're so concerned.”

“I care about you.” says Ridgeway. “We've been talking for days now, and I want to ensure your safety. Isn't that commendable? So why are you running when I'm only trying to help?”

“I really wasn't running.” protests Ariel. Salaya and Eje exchange looks. “I have missions to do with my team, and we were perfectly safe.”

“That's not true.” Ridgeway voice rises in agitation. “I saw you. You looked right at me, I looked back, and you ran away before I could say hi. Why did you run away?”

“Alright.” says Eje diplomatically. “It's late and I think we're all tired. Let's just–”

“Shut up, little girl. I'm not talking to you.” Even in the darkness Ariel can see Eje's face contort into a glare. She opens her mouth, but Ridgeway dismisses her with a wave. “Gills, can you take care of the brat?”

“I do like the feisty ones best.” Another man, presumably Gills, is suddenly beside Ridgeway. Whereas Ridgeway is stout and built like a bear, Ridgeway is lanky and clean-shaven. Ridgeway's eyes are dark with bushy eyebrows, but Gill's gleam in the night. He winks one at Eje. “Come along, little girl. And take your friend with you. Ridgeway has to talk to Ariel by himself.”

Ariel tries to speak as well, but Ridgeway cuts her off, his voice comically high in contrast to his powerful body. “You keep running from me, Ariel. I wanted to show you around, but you left again and again. How can we be friends when you avoid me?”

“Have you been drinking?” asks Salaya.

“I haven't started drinking.” screams Ridgeway. Ariel appreciates for the first time that he must be nearly as large as her, Salaya, and Eje combined. He gives Salaya a shove that sends her sprawling on her back.

Eje curses and launches herself at Ridgeway while Salaya is still rolling. Her arm waves like smoke in the breeze as she hurls a blow at Ridgeway, but he catches it like she's nothing more than a child and tosses her aside. Lightning crackles and explodes from Gills's fingers, illuminating his cackling face. It strikes Eje in the legs and they give out. Salaya tries to stand, but another blast of lightning sends her back to the ground whimpering.

“Now you're attacking me.” snarls Ridgeway, his voice low and menacing now. Too late has Ariel even realised that they're under attack from people who are meant to be their allies. She can see people gathering around on the peripheries of her vision, can see them whispering to each other, but nobody speaks up. She's alone against Ridgeway. “You're rude.” he says. “Disrespectful after everything I've tried to do for you.” She backs up, trying to get to the castle, but he's circling, cutting her off at every step.

“Look over there. It's the reject.” says Gills. Octave strides toward them. “We were just dispatching your team. Looks like they picked out members who complement you.” Salaya is trying to stand again. Lightning again explodes from Gill's fingers at her, but Octave steps in front. She swats at it like an insect, and the electricity dissipates, bits deflecting off to away from them. Gills's bright eyes widen in shock and he tries to move back. Octave kicks his legs as he turns, then winds up and buries her foot in his abdomen as he falls by the castle. He curls into a ball. Octave winks at Ridgeway then brings her foot straight down onto the back of Gill's head. A low murmur erupts from the onlookers. Ridgeway snarls and turns to meet her as she stands, back to the castle. He doesn't talk, just lowers his head and charges. He's taller than even Octave, and far broader. Ariel should be using magic, doing something, but her head is still spinning.

Octave tries to sidestep Ridgeway, but bears are faster than their size would appear. He turns with her and lunges. For an instant, Octave vanishes behind his broad back. Then Ridgeway's feet lift into the air and fly. Octave has him, both hands around his neck, swinging him around. He's pummelling her and pulling at her grip, but she keeps swinging his bulk, his momentum never stopping but joining hers, redirecting. Up, around, down.

Octave slams Ridgeway headfirst into the castle wall with a thud like a stone into a rotten stump. Ridgeway's body goes limp and collapses in a heap, arms splayed over each other, legs twitching at different angles. How many seconds have passed since she kicked Gill? Almost none. He's back up now, feet shaky, one hand clutching his side, one hand glowing. Another flash of lightning illuminates the grass. Instead of blasting Octave, it forms a wall of sparks and electrostatic. She advances on him, neither quickly nor slowly. She reaches the wall and extends a hand, sliding it through the crackling wall, then her shoulder, head, neck, torso. Finally she slips through, the electricity sliding off her like water off a canvas.

“Come near me and I'll gut your corpse.” Gill's voice quavers as he reaches into his jacket. The point of a dagger gleams.

“Stick that knife at me and nobody will find your corpse.” Gills looks around. Two other mercenaries, the same from Ridgeway's team that Ariel saw when she first arrived at the castle look away, shaking their heads. The other spectators aren't moving. Gill's eyes shift from them over to Ridgeway's limp body and he runs.

It's over. Octave straightens up and smiles back at them, limbs relaxed as though she was watching the entire time from the comfort of a chair. The spectacle of the fight has ended and the spectators are free to mingle. They talk with each other, exclaiming over the fight, congratulating Octave, checking on Salaya and Eje. They're ignoring Ariel who is unharmed physically, but in shock. Her heart races; she breathes in short spurts.

“I'm fine.” Eje brushes dirt off her clothes. “That was impressive.” she says to Octave, arms crossed.

“Are you fine?” Octave asks Ariel. Ariel nods, unsure of what else to do. “Good. Don't let stalkers like Ridgeway scare you. If you see him so much as look at you again, tell me.”

“Is he still alive?”

“He's probably fine.” Octave looks over at his body. Nobody has moved to help him. “I'm sure a life mage can preserve whatever brain matter he has left. Not you, Ariel. Someone with nothing better to do, like a medic.” She walks off, away from the castle.

Salaya watches as Eje comforts Ariel who's trying unsuccessfully not to cry. She moves to join them, but something's bothering her. Something Octave did feels familiar. Then it clicks. “Wait a minute.” she calls out. Her legs still tremble from the electric shock, but she nonetheless runs after Octave's form as it retreats into the night.