Lirem fell backwards into a motionless, bloody-nosed body. Volsten shook his hand free of the sting. Given the situation, force was necessary, but he’d given her a good one, and perhaps it was too much.

“VOLSTEN!” Xyra screamed.

He turned to see what caused her to scream so. She wasn’t in Dees’s grip anymore. She was on the ground, staring in panic, as Dees ran straight for him.

Volsten snatched the sword that Lirem dropped. By the time Dees was upon him, he was ready. One motion, one cut. Dees toppled to the ground like a kneecapped bull. Which he was, for Volsten had stepped aside and let Dees’s legs cut themselves on his partner’s blade.

“Damn it, Dees! Ya got a sword of your own!” Alin shouted.

Dees tried to stand. His huge body lurched and strained. Once brown trousers now dripped red with blood. Volsten hadn’t seen where he cut him, but it was mid-thigh, and quite deep at that.

All with a step? I’ve still got it.

Dees took his sword from its sheath. It was just as Lirem’s, rough and unbalanced. But they were used to it, whereas Volsten would struggle to adjust to its oddness.

Volsten pointed the blade at him. “One motion, Dees. You face the Knight of Camara. It would be best for you to stand down.”

Dees breathed in and out with great breaths. He looked to be in considerable pain. “No one’s gonna hit Little L like that ‘cept R. And even he got a mind to stop when we tell ‘em to.”

“Severe, I know, but you can’t possibly expect me to feel sorry for a woman who tried to rob and kill me!”

“Never seen her like that…she wasn’t gonna do nothin’ after you said that stuff.”

“I’ve certainly made sure of that.”

Dees grunted with pain. He took limping steps forward, each one pushing more blood from his wound.

“Volsten, don’t!” Xyra shouted behind him. “He’s already hurt…”

“If you wish to die, Dees,” Volsten said, “then keep stepping towards me. If you had any brain in that head, you’d sling her over your shoulder and get back into the forest.”

His movement slowed, and Volsten had a hard time believing that it was because of his words.

One more step, and he was on his knees, blood pooling around him.

A breath later, he toppled like a statue long past its prime, his sword falling silently into the grass.

“Shit.” Alin said.

Volsten turned to face the last of the Freemen. Alin had finally left his tree. He had a blade at the ready, and he held it true. Seems he knows a bit more than the others.

“Is…is he dead?” Xyra asked.

Volsten took hold of his sword, still stuck where Lirem had placed it. He pulled it free of the ground and relished in its feel. Light and even. He threw Lirem’s excuse of a sword to the ground. He’d held it for no time at all, but those few moments with it made him long for his own.

Her blade bounced in front of Xyra. She was on hands and knees, clutching the ground beneath her with such force as to have ripped small chunks of grass and dirt from it.

“I had you as the smart one, Alin,” Volsten said.

Alin was still taking reluctant steps towards him. His face was in an odd half-smile. “Well, you’re wrong. I don’t have any mind that I can beat you, but with how you just kinda smashed Lirem’s face in, and you mighta just killed ol’ Dees, I don’t got much of a choice but to do something about it, huh?”

“Volsten,” Xyra said softly. “We can just go…he can’t follow us. And is he dead? Did you kill him, Volsten?”

“Not too terribly sorry about that,” Volsten said, ignoring Xyra’s whining. “You’re bandits. I’m surprised you care this much, especially about the one who seems to enjoy threatening death.”

“We ain’t bandits, I told you.” Alin seemed annoyed. “We’re family. I’ve known L since she was a little brat, you see, and no matter how stupid she is, I can’t let her be done like this. Same goes for Dees. Y’know how family goes.”

No, I don’t. Volsten readied his blade. “Avenge them if you can then, Alin.”

Alin’s mouth made a line. He was only a few feet away. They began to circle each other. Volsten could see the forest, and then the road, with its two bodies laying before it. One was beginning to stir. The other was deathly still.

They circled. Alin’s eyes told him everything.

They circled. He stepped forward. Alin stepped back.

Move, Alin.

They circled. He stepped forward. Alin stepped forward and thrust. Volsten shunted the incoming blade and planted his sword in a gap between chest and pauldron. Alin howled.

Volsten’s blade slid out of the wound with ease and tipped with blood. Alin stumbled back, hand rushing to stem the flow of life escaping him.

“Stop it!” Xyra shouted. “What’s wrong with you people?”

He turned to look at her. “Would you stop screa-“

“Fuckin’ bastard!”

He whirled back to see Alin’s blade raised. Damn it! A backstep, but not enough. The sting of parting flesh radiated through his arm. He grunted, now taking his turn to stumble. The cut hurt badly, and already the white tunic around it was turning red.

Alin grimaced, pale as paper. “I cut a knight, huh?”

Volsten held his blade awkwardly. He’d hit his sword arm with that swing.

Alin still clutched at his wound. “Ya know, you shoulda kept those words up with Lirem.” He looked out to the road. That grimace changed into a grin. “I ain’t dumb enough to believe a single one of ‘em, but maybe she would let you go. And it woulda been nice to have her ridin’ high off of that for the rest of her life. But, now? She’s gonna kill ya.” His sword wobbled as he thrusted.

No step. Lethargic. The air rang as Volsten shunted the blade aside (this did nothing to help the pain of his sliced arm) and buried his blade to the middle in Alin’s throat.

Xyra screamed as he’d never heard before. Alin spit blood that dotted Volsten’s blade with red. Volsten put a foot on Alin’s stomach and kicked, freeing his sword and sending the man into the grass.

“You killed him!” Xyra’s voice was high and shrill.

“Yes, I did.” Volsten kneeled. The cut on his arm wasn’t as deep as he thought, but it still bled something fierce.

Something moved in the distance. Volsten looked up from his gashed arm to see Lirem. She was on her knees, nose held with delicate fingers.

Volsten raised himself. He gave his sword arm a swing. Stiff. The cut made his arm cautious. How long until she realized what he did?

Lirem shouted. She ran to Dees and knelt, struggling to heft the body onto its back. When she saw for herself that he no longer breathed, her head fell.

“This didn’t have to happen,” Volsten yelled across the gap. “You could have been reasonable.”

Lirem rose with Dees’s blade in hand. She walked towards him but stopped for just a moment. That was probably the recognition of Alin, body still in the morning sun.

“I’m gonna kill you,” she said, resuming her walk.

“Your friends tried, Lirem. They’re dead.”

“Dead…” Xyra echoed like a lost spirit.

“I’m gonna enjoy cutting you,” Lirem spat. “I’m gonna make her watch, and when ya can’t move another inch, I’m gonna make her scream until I cut her fuckin’ throat!”

“Please,” Xyra cried. “Why are you doing this? Just go away!”

Goddess she’s crying. “Your anger is misplaced. You killed these men, not I.”

Lirem stopped. She was halfway between him and Dees’s body, staring at him with a snarl of teeth and hate. She stepped again, but this was no normal step. She flickered in purple for but a moment, and then she was next to him, sword already traveling to his side.

Shadowstep!? Volsten gasped and moved just in time to avoid being gutted by her blade.

She flickered again. He heard the ominous sound of reappearance behind him, to Xyra’s terror, and he stepped forward. But this time the blade found purchase. It grazed along his back, cutting a line from shoulder to lower.

He turned to face her.

His ears told him: Too late. Lirem appeared before him and slashed viciously at his stomach. He moved his arm to guard, but stiff as it was, it was far too slow. Lirem’s blade whisked past and sliced his tunic, narrowly missing his stomach.

Volsten stumbled back. Lirem stood where she was, mouth open, taking gulps of air.

“Just…please…stop fighting!” Xyra clutched her head with both hands, as if trying to drown out the noise of death.

“Ah, so that’s why he was so confident,” Volsten said. “You can Shadowstep.”

A wry smile cut through Lirem’s mask of hate. “Aye. Now ya see how fucked ya are, right?”

“Oh, quite the contrary,” Volsten said. He settled himself. “You caught me off guard. I’ll be killing you, now.

“Goddess, I can’t wait to cut that tongue out!” She flickered.

Volsten guarded. A moment later, to his left.

One. He shunted Lirem’s blade to the side. That threw her off balance. He began a thrust but halted before the step.

Lirem flickered. Two. Behind him. He spun. Lirem’s thrust caught nothing, and in the moment before he swung, he saw panic in those eyes. Then she flickered

If he was correct, this was her last step. He was at the ready, waiting for the tell-tale sound of her exiting the shadows. She did, but nowhere within his reach. She stood halfway between him and Xyra, doubled over, heaving in air.

Volsten wasted no time. He sprinted for her, sword pointing outwards, arm protesting with stiff pain. She went on guard, if one could call it that. It was the most pathetic guard he’d ever seen.

He hit something. Hard. It felt like a wall, but there was nothing between him and the bandit. He would have fell had whatever it was not wrapped its arms around him, holding him steady. His eyes traveled downward and found a hooded head buried in his chest.

“Xyra, get out of the way!”

“You can’t kill her!” she said, muffled through his chest. “I…I won’t let you!”

“Are you empty of mind? This woman tried to kill me!”

She looked up at him, tears pooled in her eyes. Such power, in those. “But you won! She’s scared now. You don’t have to kill anyone else.”

“Move!” Volsten growled.

Xyra held him in her iron embrace, with no signs of loosening.

He eyed Lirem. She seemed content to stare at them, trembling in her boots. Her sword was lowered. Perhaps Xyra was right. Without the surprise of Shadowstep, I suppose she's useless.

“Alright, Xyra!” Volsten said. “I’ll let her go. Stop trying to snap me in two!” That, and her grip was causing the long graze on his back to burn.

Her arms dropped away, but still she stood between them. “I just want to leave.”

Volsten looked down again, annoyance and exhaustion replacing the rush of combat. A dragon lectured him on killing. “Goddess, you’re a terrible dragon.”

“Hey!” Xyra said. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

Volsten heard before he saw. He looked up to see Lirem’s blade, and without so much as a thought he brought his to meet it. They clashed; his arm screamed. With his free arm he yanked Xyra to the side.

Lirem flickered.

Tired as he was, he still had no fear of Lirem’s Shadowstep. Behind? Left? Right?

Left!

Then why did the blade enter his stomach? Why was she still in front of him, panting, smiling as if she’d won? It was all so confusing. By the time Xyra screamed “Volsten!”, he still hadn’t figured it out. By the time he’d fallen to one knee, unable to stand with the terrible burning of his insides, he still hadn’t figured it out.

The blade ripped free from his stomach. He fell onto his back, and watched the clouds turn black.

*

Xyra didn’t know how humans saw the world, but to her, colors were vivid and expressive. Each had its own unique voice, and at times, they would sing. In the silent of night, when she would venture from the mountainside to the forests below, she could hear the green of trees whisper. Its voice was pleasant, calming, always intertwined with the hushed deepness of brown tree bark. They didn’t always sing to her; only when they felt comfortable. Xyra never coaxed, never begged, never asked.

Some colors were louder than others. Red was one. If it decided to sing, it was loud and unmistakable. The red on Volsten’s shirt pounded at her ears. It was as if someone beat great hammers against them, trying to crush her with sound.

Her chest sucked in air and spit it out just as quickly. Every breath exhaled wafted smoke into her face.

Through the smoke, Xyra could see Lirem coming closer. Her blade shouted with red. “Heard lots of talk about you being a dragon.”

Xyra stared at the woman. She felt something rising, something she’d not felt since the elves had taken her.

“I don’t care what ya are,” Lirem said. She stood just above her. “I told him what I would do to ya. I ain’t one to lie.”

Xyra remained silent. Sharpness poked against her shoulder.

“Say something. Ya couldn’t stop screamin’ and talkin’ earlier!”

The sounds were quieting. What was rising neared its limit.

Lirem’s face appeared before her, a nasty grin stretching her lips. “Hello? Did ya go deaf?”

Their eyes met.

Lirem’s breath caught. “By the goddess, ya might really be-“

Xyra took hold of Lirem’s throat and squeezed.