‘Another soul departing the battlefield, I wonder whose it is?’ Drac thought. He glanced at where the injured were set up, his eyes following a blue wisp that slowly rose out from the teeth of the open tunnel.

“Focus! Just focus on making sure that its not you who dies,” he shook his head and focused at the corpses before him. The burning corpses needed a culling and he was getting too distracted with what his eyes showed him.

Taking a stance alongside his old enemy, Drac prepared for him to douse the enemy in blue flames before he followed up. The fire quickly spread onto the others and burnt with great fervor until only their blackened husks remained. Those alongside him closed in and continued their decapitation spree, but Drac could see them getting more and more exhausted and battered the further they transvered. Even he, when he unclenched and clenched his hands felt the ach of old wounds return.

It didn’t help that for every step forward they would be forced back with twice the undead to replace the one’s they took care of. Some of the men became desperate, some of the men became fearful, but all men were in chaose; an ordered chaose of the battlefield. Looking over to the Earl Drac realized that he was in similar company.

“Mr. Drac, this is getting frustrating,” the Earl said between gasps. “Hold them off while I-.”

“Bigger thread; stronger spell, got it-ugh,” Drac grunted as pain shot up his arms. His forearm began to shake even though the wounds were in his hand. Blood seeped out of his armor and trickled down its pommel, giving his blade the red hue it lacked.

“MEN! TO ME!” The Blue Fire of Yikensworth commanded.

The small men jumped far too quickly for him, leaving him behind to struggle his way back. The undead swarmed his position and only because of his armor was he able to avoid all the bites and scratches. He could feel his arm grow weary, as if it could unhinge from the elbow and just fall off. Fighting to keep his hands up brought him pain and he needed pain to keep him focused. He held up the sword in an overhand swing and launched it into the masses of corpses. It cut through them like thick butter and eventually stopped when he hit the ground. Just a few more feet.

The swords bore too heavy on his weary arms and there was not enough time to launch another attack so he used it as a shield and knocked back those directly infront of him. His armor protected his back so he let the rest take care of them. Discarding his sword on the ground he brought the other into a two handed grip.

“Hey you! Keep them away!” some one yelled.

Drac twisted around and plunged into the approaching enemy, crushing the decomposing bodies as he took a swing. He spun on the spot, and using the momentum; swung sideways again. But his strike came up short, getting stuck in a corpse’s spine. Drac tried to dislodge the blade from the corpse’s stomach when he spotted an unknown black liquid move up to cover the bone which made it even harder to pull it out. While struggling with his sword he was acutely aware of the undead approaching him. But he couldn’t let go; it was the last thing he had of him and he wasn’t about to lose it here.

The soulless creatures grabbed onto his arm, pulling him down. They swung from the cape to his shoulders while he gave into futile attempts to throw them off.

[Enkindle]

A shiver went up his spine when he saw the threads of flow change around him. The brightest one of a blueish colour, pulsing and spinning around him.

“Dracovich!” someone yelled behind him. He looked back and felt his stomach drop as his fears were made reality. He found himself at the bottom of the slop they’d first started on, surrounded my the undead. They’d left him in the middle of the corpses and the fire was fast spreading his way.

‘Suka, blyad!’ Drac thought as he tried running away. He grabbed his sword off the ground, ignoring the pain and dashed into the undead, knocking them aside. ‘He remembers me.’

“It’s unfortunate we only meet on battlefields, Vlad. In other circumstances, I think we might’ve been friends. But I must do what I must to protect my own and thou threaten their livelihood.”

That was the last thing he heard before he felt his skin scream at him. It felt cold at firest until he realized that was just how hot the flames were, unbearably so. Unable to control himself Drac yelled in pain, thrashing into whatever came his way. He used the pain to swing whichever way he could until the flames would subside or he would hit the wall.

*Shwing*

His arms shook as the vibrations carried up his shoulders and down his back. He could hear the cracking sounds of his bones snapping in place underneath the clacking of his armor. He’d struck a wall…and cornered himself in the sea of charred corpses.

“Haa, haaa, ha,” Drac gasped for air as he looked around him. He was surrounding by fire, burning the undead into a neat little semicircle around him that was diminishing with every passing breath. This kept the undead at bay but it wasn’t long before the fire would diminish and the circle close in. He stumbled around as he tried gripping his sword but his arms were too bruised and lost too much blood to co-operate with him.

‘Maybe I can get back up there?’ Drac thought as he looked up. Sweat kept getting in his eyes but since he had his head covered he couldn’t do anything except accept the salty feeling it brought. The duke looked back at him and seemed to guesture him over, as if inviting him to join. ‘If I could sprint there?’

Unfortunately, when he tried placing pressure in his legs he was forced to kneel. He kept his hands on his remaining sword, but couldn’t move well enough to escape. So with his hand raised on his sword’s grip he used all his might to stand up; grabbing a stone as he did. Staring at the undead before him he murmured; “Come at me, desecrated warriors. I…I shall give you a proper send-off.”

‘This is pathetic,’ he looked at the stone in his hand, ‘this will not be my grave, I’ve suffered too much just for wearing your face brother. I will no die without seeing my own face again. I will not die dishonoring sister’s last wish. I will keep her safe.’

“YAAAAAAH,” Drac yelled.

*BOOM*

A loud explosion from atop the slope forced him to glance just in time to see the entrance of the cavern fly out onto the masses and squish some enemies under their weight. Drac squinted at the cave’s entrance and was able to catch a robed figure standing there before he was pulled back and a bald man wearing the guards’ silver armor replaced him atop the steps.

“Holy Saint Mina!” he yelled. “Now this is a battle! Boys! C’mon out. FOR YIKENSWORTH!!!”

Karl jumped off the steps followed by the robed figure being carried by Strompf before a steady stream of guards of the Black Keep ran out with their swords drawn and axes swinging. Seeing this Drac couldn’t help but smirk ruefully underneath his helm.

‘The fire, the betrayal and the war cries. How ironic.’ he thought. ‘Now all I need is sis to save me and it’ll be just like that mess on Kupala those many years ago.’

Perhaps it was the cavern echoing their cries that made it so loud but eventually, he couldn’t keep his balance and fell to a knee again. Their voices ringing in his ears so loudly that he was sure his ears would bleed. So he focused on the sound of his jaw popping in and out of its joint. It helped to keep his mind off the resurfacing memories of war. He focused on that sound until he was able to stand once more.

Just in time to smash an incoming undead that stepped too close. A ‘crack’ sound rung in his ears, whether of his own hand or the skull was yet to be decided but before he could determine, he had to swing at another one.

Another tried latching onto his arm but Drac was prepared this time. He thrust his elbow into its teeth, making sure to lodge it in its mouth before smashing it into the wall behind him. He was focused, so focused that he didn’t realize it that someone had jumped from above and brought blinding blue light.

…………………………An hour ago……………………………………………………………………………………………

She’d been quick to escape the dungeons, but not as fast to find the cemetery. It was a menial mistake and to anyone other than her; it would’ve been understandable, but she was better, she should’ve been better. She usually kept her emotions hidden behind a thick wall of stone so that she could respond with a level head when others around her were losing it.

‘You’re not suited for the mercenary life…you won’t survive it, if not for your uncle...’

But those accursed words brought chaos to her mind. Everytime she thought about his words she’d take the wrong corner and end up somewhere different. This wasn’t like her, she was supposed to be better than the other maidens, better than a ball of emotion up for manipulation. Yet she’d shown more emotion in at his words than she’d shown the whole trip.

She was frightened. Admitting that unsurprisingly brought a bitter taste in her mouth. Natravi stepped out of the alley she’d found herself in and climbed atop a rooftop. She crouched and hugged her knees, sighing in exasperation.

‘Why does it…affect me so?’

She was a logic driven woman. She’d memorized every book uncle Drac had ever bought her to learn. She had committed everything he’d ever taught her to memory, whether it was on swordsmanship or the flow. Her strengths lay in her intelligence and her mastery of the flow; she couldn’t have messed up. It must have been Luvrit’s fault.

‘He is a stranger at best, yet it makes me so…angry. It makes me want to prove him wrong,’ she thought standing up.

Her mind was clear and she could see her goal in the horizon. If she trumped over his own position and became a ‘Fourth Strike’ mercenary she’d prove him wrong and then he’ll have to acknowledge her ability. So she took her first step towards her goal…and sat down once again.

‘This is so stupid. What would I gain from showing him that he was wrong?’, she reasoned. ‘I could spend my whole life trying to make him eat his words but in the end I would’ve wasted my life, not him. I have duties, responsibilities for god’s sake. I’m supposed to be engaged and going after Luvrit with such intention would be unfair to everyone…Enough of this. I need to focus. I need to find uncle Drac and force him back home…even if we have to fight.’

“That would work well,” She said, sarcastically. “Why not fight him to show how much you care.”

‘He’s just confused. He thinks that because I’m getting married I won’t need him anymore. I just need to show him that I still need him with me…I should’ve made him promise that night.’

“But he never did. That night in the stables, he didn’t promise me…that means he knew he’d leave some time in the future, so it was planned…Argh, why!?,” Natravi rubbed her eyes, trying to wipe away the salty water coming out of her eyes. “I don’t care, I’ll go find him and make him come back. Then we’ll live happily in Kiev.”

She nodded in reassurance and stepped down into the streets. Surprisingly, the whole time she’d been lost in her thoughts no undead had come within sight. It was as if they all had just disappeared, perhaps gone to the cemetary.

‘Makes sense, it seems the flowreader’s pulled all the corpses for a final defense. Should be safe to walk these streets now…but finding my way through these streets would take too long. I need to follow the flow.’

She hid in the alleyway and began seeking the coloured string she needed. Eventually she found the colour she wanted and began to read the jumbled words of different languages that flew out. She read through the words until she came upon the final command, the words she had to speak outloud. The words that made the whole jumble of words she’d spoken have power.

“[Propono; Potentia]”

A small smile etched itself on her lips as she saw the words flying out of the light line up and approach her eyes. When they met the hazel pupils a bright green flash in the alleyway blinded her for a moment before her sight returned. She squinted into the darkness and saw several blue wisps line up in the air, floating towards a particular direction.

‘That must be where the cemetary is,’ Natravi thought as she stepped out of the alley. She glanced back at the dark street and brought out her sword. Smiling bitterly, she thought; ‘If only I’d been this careful when I first started. It would’ve served me well in the past.’

Natravi climbed atop a broken rooftop, and taking advantage of the clear path highlighted before her allowed her thoughts to drift away; towards the otherwise distracting thoughts, back when she first learnt of the ‘Flow’, as she began the long trek. When she first started they’d been living in a little village in northern Chimera as that area’s baron’s servants. She worked alongside the children and Anna while her uncle worked outside or as a guard to the baron’s son. Thinking back now she suspected that he knew she could see the coloured strings.

As soon as they’d settled down at the baron’s house her uncle went out and bought her two books; The FLOW and Language of FLOW. She had to reteach herself how to read because of all the time spent in the forest beforehand and because uncle refused to teach her how. Those were trying times.

In those first few months’ doubts were always running rampant in her head. How was she able to see the flow and Anna or her children couldn’t? How was she able to hold lights in her hands when it didn’t weigh anything? Why did the words change with the colour?

Whenever she’d voiced her questions he’d ignore her and even scold her to never spoke of the ‘flow’ to anyone. It didn’t make anysense, he’d never explain and only later did she realize that he couldn’t. After a particularly embarrassing scolding she’d shut herself out from him and tried researching on the matters herself; however, none of the stalls she’d go to at their local marker ever had any books regarding the flow. She’d always be turned away or glared at until she’d leave.

It went on like this for a few weeks until the new year came and went. It was on the first week of the new year that she realized why no one ever spoke of the flow. Either people didn’t know of it, or they were too afraid to admit it.

It was considered the language of blasphemy, and she’d asked too many questions. She couldn’t remember who’d kidnapped her or even how she’d been kidnapped, probably because of how scared she must’ve been, but she did remember the look on uncle Drac’s face when he found her in that barn. A look she’d last see on the eve of Kupala.

Natravi took off her hood and stared again at the direction of the wisps again. She’d been jumping from the rooftops and could see the cemetery in sight; however, something had drawn her attention. She ducked behind the diagonal roofside and peered over the top, at the men in glinting armor.

“Strompf did you see her yet?” The warden, Karl, asked. He sat stop a horse with a blue coif shining under the light.

“Not yet sir, luckily she’ll be at da cemetary,” Strompf said, standing beside him.

“Hmph, well if you see her tell her to stop, I need to apologize for my behavior from earlier.”

‘This is interesting’ Natravi thought. She debated showing herself but in the end decided not to, she didn’t need to put herself at risk.

“Of course, we’re very sorry we didn’t go with her, if only we could tell her how sorry we are,” Strompf said, making some men laugh.

‘He surely can’t be serious…is he? No, he’s being sarcastic. But why?’ When Natravi saw his head turn in her direction she immediately ducked down and internally cursed. ‘Damn, how did they know?’

*Sigh* “How?” She called out. After a moment of silence, she heard Karl ask; “Is she serious?”

“Aye sir, it seems the nobility doesn’t go out or watch the moon for that matter,” Strompf replied.

‘Moon?’ Natravi looked at the sky. Most of the clouds had disappeared and a clear moon sky stared back at her. ‘They saw me in the light of the moon.’

“Well, my lady, since we’re all down here and you’re up there…we could see you a lot better than you could see us. After all, why does a noble need to see what’s below them.”

‘The shadows…they were hidden in the shadows of the buildings,’she realized. ‘No use hiding now.’

“What do you really want?” She asked, stepping out of her hiding spot.

“Why to apologize of course,” Karl said mockingly. Natravi maintained her expression of indifference as she studied them.

“Apology accepted, anything else?”

“We’re going to cemetary,” the warden cheered. “And my boys here would love to escort a real noble such as yourself to the battle if you’re lost. Are you?”

“No, but it would be best to go together,” Natravi said, climbing down the building. Luckily the building had already collapsed so she didn’t have to stretch too much. “I shall be under your protection until then warden.”

“Boys, how do we greet a noble?!” the warden shouted.

“Wha-” Natravi back up but before she could react a thunderingly loud shout assaulted her eardrums.

“WOO-AAH!”

“…Are you stupid?” Natravi asked. Fortunately, her hood blocked their view of her surprised expression otherwise she was sure that they would’ve laughed-

“So you can take a bit of screaming,” Karl said. “Good, I like those who can handle their screams.”

What followed was an equally loud laughter as they began marching down the street and Natravi was forced to wonder what those words meant. She’d thought Luvrit’s words were irksome but now she found that not knowing the hidden meaning of something annoyed her even more.

“Are you not worried for the undead?” She asked once the laughter had subsided.

Through the rest of the trip she kept to herself and didn’t speak nor listen to them. Soon they’d reached the cemetary gates, or what was left of them. After seeing the mangled gates, Karl and her were pushed behind Strompf and his men as they made their way into the foggy graveyard.

“Wait,” Strompf suddenly whispered, raising a fist to re-enforce his command. “Look.”

“What do you see?” Karl whispered.

“Come see.” The men parted, allowing her and Karl to get a better look. When she saw what Strompf was pointing at made her blood run cold. It looked as if all those spider-like undeads who’d attacked her were combined together to create an even horrible monstrosity. At least it was already incapacitated from the looks of it.

“Follow with caution,” Karl commanded. While they continued Natravi saw the remnants of the battle that had taken place; the blood, the writing, the bodies and the beast. She’d never read about anything like that, infact she hadn’t read of those spider-like creatures before aswell. It was almost as if they were new creations made from the castors knowledge.

‘If you could make your own undead then the possibilities were…innumerable,’ she thought.

As they walked up to the mausoleum she found herself staring down the dark stairway where the green wisps disappeared into.

“C’mon lassie,” the rude man with a mustache said, pushing her away from the ruins.

“They’re down there,” she said pointing into the darkness. That stopped them for a minute as they considered her words. She could see their doubt and knew that if she didn’t say anything to re-enforce her claim they would leave it.

“I-” she hesitated.

‘They’re not like the Chimereans, they accept those with flow,’ she had to remind herself. “I can see the flow.”

“…Okay, men follow after her,” Karl agreed, but Natravi didn’t miss the way his hand gripped over his pommel.

‘There is power in words but silence is most powerful.’

Back then she’d thought he meant that she shouldn’t speak of her ability, but as she grew older and more knowledgable the intricacies of the flow around her began to reveal themselves and she reconsidered what he’d meant. More powerful magic required more words to be spoken, but the more powerful speakers of flow needed not more than a few words to invoke the desired effects from it. Thus she needed only a few words to produce light.

“[luceat, orbis lumen, Illuminare]” She said. A small orb of light began to glow on her open palm, illuminating the area around her. The more she focused her energy on the orb the brighter the light grew, until she could see three steps below her. Although it was from a much simpler thread, alot larger than the rest; it still required a large amount of stamina to maintain. So by the time she’d reached the red carpet she was already sweating.

The guards quickly took over and lit the torches lining the walls on either side. As they approached the rubble and rocks, muffled yells and sounds of battle were heard from beyond.

“Stand back,” she instructed. She needed to blow back the rocks and the brightest thread infront of her was light blue.

‘Blue means Fire,’ she thought, remembering the ‘Languages of FLOW’ she’d memorized. She didn’t like using the flames, it used up too much energy to unnecessarily keep the fire aflame.

‘Perhaps a fire spell isn’t the best idea,’ Natravi thought. She could imagine how easily she would die if she accidently burnt all the air in the narrow passageway. ‘Perhaps blowing these rocks away using wind will be better.’

Wind, like fire, also used up too much energy and stamina to keep it under control, but atleast there was little risk of suffocation. Normally the purple thread for lightening would be her favourite flow thread; it was quick, focused and used up only a small amount of stamina to produce. The moment it would hit it’s mark she could increase the intensity and use up as much energy as she wanted to make it even stronger and then suddenly stop it altogether; however, it wouldn’t work here. She needed to conserve her energy and lightening cost more to maintain than the wind even if the initial amount was less.

She looked for the thread for wind and eventually found the thin string coming out of the spaces between the rocks. She focused on it and the words began to pour out like water.

“… [Ventis Mare]” she murmured. She didn’t like speaking it outloud when there were people around her but since the last words were necessary she settled for just murmuring.

She was pointing her hands towards the rocks to help her focus when suddenly the winds around her picked up and began to move in the direction she focused on. While she kept at it she felt herself being pushed back. She raised her hands and attempted to block the backflow as more winds joined in and the pressure keep increasing and increasing until-

*BOOM*

A deafening sound popped her ears as the rubble flew out, pushing her back and revealing the battlefield before them. Before she could gain her footing she was suddenly pulled back, the warden taking the lead, closely followed by Strompf.

“Damn,” she heard Strompf exclaim. “We gotta lay rest to a lot of our dead.”

The warden walked towards the top of the stairs and yelled;

“Holy Saint Mina! Now this is a battle! Boys! C’mon out. FOR YIKENSWORTH!!!

Natravi felt herself vibrate alongwith the cavern walls as the war cry rose from behind her. The men stomped their feet and yelled in unison.

‘People, fire, the house!’

She quickle gripped the walls and slumped against the rocks. She saw the flashes of images through her mind and felt the walls closing her, her chest got heavier as if she was being asphyxiated. It felt like a large boulder had been placed on her chest.

“Hey!” someone pulled her out of the cavern and carried her out, away from the running men. It took her a moment to realize she was clutching Stromps tabard. Immediately, Natravi pushed him away; causing them both to fall. She quickly jumped up and took her bearings, the weight on her chest suddenly disappearing as she did. There were undead this wasn’t the Kupala. They weren’t the angry men, just undead…a lot of undead. They covered the entire lower grounds and were already more than halfway towards the steps before the men behind her charged forward.

“Oi,” Strompf snarled. When she’d gathered herself, doning her expressionless mask she looked down at him. At first he began to stutter until he gathered himself and spoke through gritted teeth. “I hope yer-arhm…your ladyship has gathered…her bearings.”

“I am fine, Strompf,” Natravi said with a nod. “Thank you for helping me, I was experiencing some…bad memories and I’m sorry for pushing you off.”

“Sure, my lady. Now if yer excuse me,” he said before joining the rest of the men at the bottom of the hill in both yelling and fighting.

‘What was that? Why did I-no, I need to focus!’ Natravi shook her head. She needed to find Drac and dwelling on the things in her head right now meant she could lose him, or her life. Natravi climbed atop the steps and surveyed the cavern in the little light provided by the burning corpses and the green light from the…rocks?

To her left she found a large ledge or balcony of sorts where a few of the mercenaries were resting, guarded by two archers and two swordsmen who gave her scowls. Ignoring them she peered closer, trying to match the dark silhouettes to the people she’d met and soon found Luvrit as the one sitting furthest into the open tunnel. He was propped over a rock and kept bobbing his head in irregular manner.

‘Is he crying? Who died? Peter-no he was with the others…Volvo?’ she thought.

Her attention was suddenly caught by a large wisp of flame that flew over the battlefield easily covering three waves of undead trying to climb atop the slope. The duke was casting the flames from the edge of his staff and when he took rest, the mercenaries surrounding him took over; cutting down the undead.

“Where is he?” She was getting frustrated.

Natravi tried looking deeper into the darkness, somewhere far in the undead legion. But all she could see were the moving heads of god knows what in the darkness. Realizing her futile method, she began squinting at the green illuminated sides.

It wasn’t long before she could make out a commotion to the side, the only place where the green light didn’t illuminate. Squinting hard she looked for any recognizable features and was surprised to see a glint of a large sword.

‘Only he carries swords that big,’ she reasoned. Before she could even formulate a plan, she was already running towards him. ‘I’ll have to make a plan as I go, he’ll be overwhelmed.’

She steered towards the balcony of uneven rocks off to the side when she saw the unbelievable amount of undead before her. She climbed over them with fervent motions, ignoring the scraps and scratches she’d gotten until she was directly above him. She took in a deep breath, letting the pain flow through as quietly as she could. She looked down and realized her mistake; she’d die if she fell from that height.

‘What do I do? WhatdoIdo? WhatdoIdo?’ Natravi, internally, screamed. ‘Fire? Useless; he would get burnt too. Wind? Useless; he would get knocked off too and might puncture something with the rocks. Lighting? Lightening! That guys, Big boss, he could cushion his fall with a lightening web of sorts…I haven’t practiced though. Dammit, I’ll have to use the same thing I did as the time with the midget.’

“……arnea…telarum… [Fulgur telam]!” Natravi yelled as she jumped off. A burning sensation began in her palms and trickled towards her fingers before coming out as tendrils of blue light that spread out into a web. Her fingers ached under the hotness of the lightening and her body began to fall into cold sweats as she controlled the lightening. It pushed her back and almost slowed her descent to a complete standstill. She landed heavily, feeling pain spike up her legs, knees and fingers. Finally, she couldn’t endure it anymore and let loose a shrill cry.

‘Bad idea!’ Natravi immediately regretted it as her uncle spun towards her, grabbing an undead along the way and swinging it at her like a sword. She was knocked off her feet and slammed against the rock wall which illicited another cry of pain from her. Natravi tried to get up but couldn’t feel her legs. She looked at the hulking body hidden away under ashen armor.

“Uncle Drac,” she called out, shakily raising her arm.

‘Can he even see me?’ Her doubts were cleared up when she saw one of his eyes glow red under the helmet. ‘He must be using the flow.’

“Natravi…” When had she ever heard his voice so weak? She cried out in surprise as a hand suddenly grabbed her hood from the side and she came face to face with the decaying face of a corpse. Its eyeball was still in it’s socket but not for long as it popped out and fell down into her robes. “EEEIIIII, DRAAA-!”

“HARUMPH!”

She suddenly felt herself being pulled back as a rock smashed into its face, turning the undead’s face into mush. She felt his hand curl around her and pull her up into a half hug. Although he smelled and although the pain in her stomach told her that her wounds had reopened, she still rested her head against his warm armor, letting him know she was alright.

“Ow,” she couldn’t it hold in. Fortunately, Drac didn’t hear her over the screams of the guards because he was suddenly pulling her behind him and picking his sword off the ground. She slowly leaned against the wall and slumped down. She could feel her eyes getting droopy, she’d used up too much energy and taken too much of a beating; everything seemed out of order. *Blink* Drac was pulled a sword out of a undeads chest as he punched the other with his free hand. *Blink* He was swinging around and cutting over her head. *Blink* The guards had joined him. *Blink* Drac was kneeling before her, behind him the guards had taken over and were pushing back the undead.

“Navi,” he sounded so…sad. “Please don’t do this…don’t…ah, you’re hurt. Where are you hurt? Please tel me what to do……my little girl.”

“I’m fine,” she spoke when she could.

“Don’t lie, your soaked.”

“Not…my blood.” She managed to get out.

‘Wait a minute!’

She traced his hands around her, feeling the dents and punctures of the rocks until her fingers found the holes in his gauntlets.

“Your hurt,” she gasped, the sleep vacating her eyes. Natravi held up his hands and tried inspecting the armor, expecting to find the skin beneath intact…she was wrong. There were holes in his armor that went through to the other side.

“No, I-I’m fine,” he sighed. “You’re more important, your hurt. We need to get you out. You need a healer.”

“I’m fine-ow,” she clutched her side as Drac gingerly traced a finger over her wound.

“There, come on, I need to get you out,” he pulled her up and was going to carry her but she quickly put a stop to it.

“I can walk!” Natravi demonstrated by walkings to the clearing behind the guards, slowly climbing up the steps. She looked back to see him following closely behind as if she would fall over any second. She needed to show him she was fine or else he would beat himself over it being his fault, sometimes she found it nice and other times, like now, she couldn’t think of anything more annoying.

She looked up ahead and saw Karl and the duke speaking at the base of the stairs, both of them hadn’t noticed her.

“Let’s move elsewhere,” Drac suggested and she couldn’t agree more. They walked over to the far side of the cavern where the light didn’t reach until they were well hidden. Drac guided her to a rock and sat himself on the floor next to her. What annoyed her was that despite her sitting on the rock he still managed to reach her eye level from where he sat on the ground. “Show me.”

‘Better get it done quickly,’ she thought, lifting her robes to show her wound. Like before; despite it being bloody the wound had already healed up, it didn’t even scar. He prodded around her belly until he felt the broken ribs again. She hissed at the touch and he quickly pulled back, as if touching a torch.

“We need to get you out of here, we need to find a healer for you,” he said standing up, but she was faster. Natravi reached out and stopped him, pulling him back down.

“No... I know how to take care of this,” she said through gritted teeth. “I-I need you to put them back in place-”

“No. Natravi, I am not cutting you. It’s too risky. What if I cut something I shouldn’t?”

“You’ll just have to cut here; I’ll tell you what to do. I felt it being done before so I can take you through the steps-”

“Natravi!” He hissed, shutting her up. “This isn’t… I thought I’d lost you down there…I can’t take the risk…Argh, gallow me liketh yond again and thee shall regreteth thy actions. This I promise. So prethee listen to what I speaketh.”

He hardly even spoke like that, so it took a moment to respond.

“Whose fault is it that I’m in this state? Who left without a word to his only family? What about the scare you gave me when the guards came to ask about you? Doth what thee preacheth, Uncle!”

She couldn’t understand but at that moment she wanted to cry. But she was stronger than that, she wouldn’t wallow like a maiden with a broken heart. She matched the strength of her aggressors with her intelligence she didn’t feel…feel helpless nor let others…feelings get to her. She was better than this.

However, the silence that followed ensewed doubt and regret; feelings she couldn’t control. She brought her hands up to her mouth, as if that would stop the words from meaning any less than she had. They were already spoken and his silence spoke volumes on how he’d been affected.

“Uncle I’m so-”

“No,” he held up a hand to stop her. “You are right; I am the one who did this. Because I didn’t recognize you. I attacked and almost killed you. Natravi, that is why I left but you had to follow. Don’t you understand?! I am dangerous, I bringeth danger, i shall causeth teen and death wh're I wend. This,” he pointed to the fight below the slope. The guards were slowly advancing on the undead. “and many others events like this, were caused by or because of me!”

“What do you mean? I-” Natravi caught a blue light coming to her side before her uncle grabbed her by her arms and pulled her away from the rock. She couldn’t see anything, but a wave of heat confirmed her suspicions. She grabbed his hands and, fighting through the pain, stood up just time to see a furious looking duke approaching them with a startled Karl running after him.

“What are you doing!?” Karl shouted, pulling the man back.

“Are you alright?” her uncle whispered. She nodded before he pulled her behind him. Drac placed himself between the fuming duke and the warden.

“I am not looking for a fight William,” he said. “You had your shot at me, but there is a child here now. Did you lose your honor after all these years!”

“I could care less about you, Vlad.” He shouted. He pointed his staff at them and fumed. “This child was supposed to protect my daughter! Where is she!?”

‘Darn it, how could I forget about him?’ Natravi said. She didn’t know where to start. This was not a situation where explaining the whole story would diffuse the tension and she hadn’t a story to tell.

“Natravi, everything will be alright,” her uncle whispered. She wanted to believe him but she knew better, he’d used that line before. That meant that he couldn’t win and would create a diversion for her to escape or risk killing himself to save her. He’d done things like that before but everytime it seemed like everything would get better. But not this time. She had picked up on the strain of his voice, he was reaching his limit. But this time she would save him.

“Your words are losing their efficacy uncle,” she whispered back, stroking his back.

‘Come on Natalie, you can stop this. You are supposed to be smart, come on, you just have to calm an angry father…but he told me not lie,’ Natravi frowned up at the back of Drac’s head. His head was slowly nodding, an involuntary action that was a sign of his tiredness. ‘But to save a life…it can be forgiven, right?’

“Natravi, when I say go you-”

“She’s alive!” She shouted, staring off, trying to form a coherent answer.

“Then where is she?!” the duke, spoke up.

“Lord William, last I saw of your daughter was when we had defeated a few undead. She wanted to help you so she left.”

“Do you know where she is or not?”

“I-I know that she will be here,” she immediately regretted her hesitation.

“You insolent, cur!” the duke screamed. In response her uncle took a step forward, getting into a running position. “You were supposed to protect her, where is she!? I’ll kill you, you hear me!”

“Willaim, William stop,” Karl interfered. He wrestled with his staff before he was struck across the jaw. The duke stabbed the staff into the dazed warden’s neck and held him against the wall. “William please-”

“What is the meaning of this Karl,” the man hissed. “I told you the next time you betray me you will die.”

Natravi could feel her skin crawl with how ferocious his response was. However, she didn’t let it show on her face. ‘If they know how they can affect you they will exploit it.’ She reminded herself before stepping out of her uncle’s shadow.

“I never betrayed you back then, William and I’m not betraying you now. You’re making a-a mistake, she’s innocent, Will-urgh” He sputtered.

“I never liked you Karl,” he pressed. “Since I can’t kill you out there, then atleast I can kill you in here. In my mind”

“William, this is real. You’re not dream-”

But before he could finish her uncle dashed towards them, tackling the duke to the ground before he could react. She quickly followed to help but a hand sign from Drac stopped her. For a brief second, his finger flashed towards Karl before he began wrestling with Willaim again.

‘Right, Uncle doesn’t trust anyone.’

“You move, you die.” She stated, bringing a sword to his throat.

“Wha-”

“I know; this is just for show.” When she saw his expression she tried; “Uncle doesn’t trust strangers, even strangers who’ve helped us. He doesn’t know you well so he still might consider you a threat-”

*Sigh*Cough*Cough*“You’re new at this, aren’t you? This fighting, these battles…mercenary work?”

“What makes you say that?” she frowned, trying to keep her annoyance out of her voice.

“You aren’t meant to be on the battlefield, girl. Sure you’re strong but you can’t read the mood of the battlefield,” Karl looked back to see Drac punch the staff out of the duke’s hand. “Otherwise you would be checking to see if I was alright, not holding me hostage.”

“I know that,” she was getting angry. She should’ve stopped, collected herself and then spoken but his patronizing tone, that made it seem like he was talking to a child, was too much. The pain, the sudden outburst of Drac and now this, she couldn’t control herself. “I’m doing this for him! He’s the one who doesn’t get it!”

“Vlad’s smarter than you give him credit for. He’s definitely been in more wars than you so he knows who’s his ally and who isn’t. Think about it yourself; I tried to stop William, I helped you two and now you have a blade held to my throat? Even Vlad wouldn’t be-”

“His name is Drac-”

“Argh!” Their attention was suddenly caught when Drac grunted. He was still on top and had the duke’s hands locked under his knees while he pressed into his chest. Despite fighting with a full armor he struggled to take down the duke and it didn’t help her to see blood seep through the spaces of his armor.

“You burnt me, tried to kill me and now you tried to put your hands on my-on her,” He grunted. “I should-urgh-kill you here right now…” he looked back at her and the duke’s eyes followed. Without a word and as quick as a she was able to see it; Drac punched the man across his jaw, knocking him out.

She saw him get up and slowly make his way over to her.

“I’m alright Natravi and let him go,” he said as he walked past. “Check on his wound…but be cautious.”

She placed the sword back into it’s sheath and began to check his wounds, be as small as they may.

“Told ya,” Karl smirked.

“He said be cautious,” she tried holding it in but failed to keep some of the venom out of her voice. Fortunately, he didn’t annoy her for long because her uncle returned with his sword in hand. He must’ve looked intimidating because that shut him up quick.

“Karl,” he said between puffs.

“Vladimir-urk” His words were cut off when his sword was placed it against his face.

“Explain what that was,” Drac said, getting his breathing under control.

“…Wha-what do you mean-” his words were cut off when Drac pushed his sword closer. Although he blade’s edge was dull Natravi knew that if he wanted her uncle could cut it off in a matter of seconds.

“Explain what that was, I won’t ask a second time.”

“Alright, Alright! Just pull back, please,” he said, raising his hands in surrender. But Drac didn’t move, it was a few seconds of looking up at him when Natravi realized he was waiting for her to move. She quickly stood back and drew her attention to the battle raging behind them.

The men were slowly winning once again and although they were down to half of what they were before it looked like the wave of undead had finally stopped. Soon the battle will be theirs.

“Thank you,” she heard Karl say.

“From the beginning, explain.” Her uncle said with a growl.

*Sigh*“…It started from when we met in the battlefield, out in Chimera. Me, you and old William over there-”

“We are all old Karl I don’t have the patience I had before. Don’t spit out what happened in the past, tell me why he tried to kill us,” She heard him grunt and looked back to see him kneeling down to face Karl. “I know he is an honorable man. You don’t lose your honor and pride that easily, yet he tried to kill me despite what happened during the war. So, tell me Karl, why?”

‘Which war? Uncle wasn’t in any wars. Was he telling the truth?’ Natravi thought.

“You don’t know Drac, he’s changed since the war. He lost his honor a long time ago-”

“You’re not answering my question Karl; what happened? The only reason I haven’t left with her yet is because I owe you from the war and stopping this will make us even-”

“You’re right!”

‘What’s with him?’

The tension she’d previously seen on his face had suddenly vanished, replaced by something she couldn’t quite place.

“If you stop her, Lidia, if you stop her you stop all of this, yes, that will make us even. You’re still a man of honor Vlad, you wouldn’t abandon someone you owe.”

“Hmph,” He grunted. “Tell me what you know. We are short on time as it is.”

“Of course, you promised to stop this right now, you wouldn’t go back on your words,” Karl slowly stood up.

‘This…seems wrong,’ alarm bells began ringing inside Natravi’s head. ‘Something about those words isn’t right; ‘You promised to stop this…that will make us even…you owe me.’’

“No, wait!” she shouted before she could formulate something coherent. Atleast the look on the warden’s face ensured her that she made the right decision.

“Come on, ignore her Vlad, you stop this and all of it won’t matter,” Karl said.

“No Uncle, you’re injured. He’s trying to get you killed,” she shocked even herself when her emotionless mask fell off.

“…I owe him Natravi, a man always pays his-”

“But you don’t owe him not anymore!” She said “He’s lying to you, to us.”

‘You’re not dishonoring your promise’ she reminded herself. ‘You’re saving your family.’

“You stopped the duke from killing him. You saved his life so he wouldn’t have anything to hold over you,” she said, feeling oddly out of place; displaying so many emotions in public. “He is trying to manipulate us, you promised him nothing uncle, you saved his life your debt-.”

“-Is cleared.”

“Y-yes,” she stared, wide-eyed as he slumped his shoulder and nodded. It was not often that she saw him relax so visibly, especially in public.

“Wait, wait, you still owe me from treating her wound-”

“I am indebted to Miss Mina and Strompf for that; to whom I’ve paid it by leading you here and stopping uncle from killing you. Come on, we need to get out of here,” she grabbed Drac’s hand and began walking towards the stairway.

“You’re leaving?”

“…Luvrit?” she gasped.

Natravi was not one for being shocked, in fact; she hated it. It made her feel stupid to be still be overwhelmed despite all she knew. But when faced with the stark contrast to a man she’d seen only hours before she couldn’t help but stare with wide-eyes. The last time she’d seen him he’d seemed almost…noble-like, compared to how he was now.

His eyes were wide and strained red. Two thick lines of dirt streaked his face from his eyes to his chin. His body was bruised and cut; sporting a deep wound similar to her own, except his actually bled through. His armor was now gone and with it so had his charisma. It had diminished like a flame on a candle blowing out into a glowing red thread. His conifdent presence was now gone, leaving behind something akin to ash from smothered flames.

“Is that it?” He said and she realized that she had just been staring all that time. “You’re just leaving like that? Because you don’t owe anyone anything?”

“Luvrit-,” she tried, only to be interrupted.

“You get to leave because what? You’re scared of dying? Look around you for god’s sake. Everyman down here is scared of death.” Luvrit pointed at her angrily, ensewing guilt. “I get why you would leave, you don’t know. But you!” Luvrit growled as he pointed his finger behind her. “You know better, you’re not a coward. You know what will happen if we don’t put a stop to this here and now, yet you let yourself be dragged away; are you a man or what?! I put my hopes on you fer god’s sake, I vouched for you. But I guess you’re just as honorable as she is a merc.”

She wanted to urge him to come with them but one look at Luvrit told her it was futile. It wasn’t her city to protect.

‘But anything is better than suicide,’ she reasoned angrily. She could see him being forced into a corner with no way out. He loved his home and to see it destroyed by something he could not beat he didn’t want to suffer anymore. He wanted to get out, leave as quickly as he could.

‘But it’s the coward’s way out!’ She wanted to scream at him. She wanted to tell him to leave it and come with her but his reasons were all to clear. He feared living a painful life, knowing that he could’ve saved Peter or Fliss and that he had to wait till the end of his life to meet them again, in a better place than the one he was forced to live in. Luvrit was feeling suicidal and was clinging to any hope that could someone would tell him it was alright.

“Luvrit, please come with us,” she forced out. “You shouldn’t do this.”

“Natravi, if I leave then I wouldn’t be able to protect Peter and Fliss, they’re all I have left,” he gestured with his arms. “This is the only way.”

“Luvrit we can go find them, get out of here-”

“Are you kidding?” Luvrit laughed cruelly. “Can’t you see? I’ve got more wounds than can be healed, Drac’s got more than he can bear, we’re not fit to escape this place.”

She didn’t know whether to be frown or laugh. Her situation was strangely similar to the one in the tysyacha i odna noch'. Except the gender roles were reversed; she was the king and her manipulator, the queen, was Luvrit. She hated herself for being so easily controlled. But before she could speak out Luvrit interrupted;

“Drac! You need a debt to stay, right? Then how’s this for one; you owe Brair for helping you take the remaining civilians to the dukes Manor while you were split up. If you don’t help stop this and they get past us, then she dies and you fail at your promise.”

She stared back at her uncle hoping he still wanted to leave, she knew if he tried they could convince Luvrit to leave with them. However, his silence and his gaze told her her hopes were misplaced. Her mind was no longer calm, Luvrit’s gaze broke down her barriers and set off a series of emotions that she’d kept hidden for months. He knew how to manipulate her emotions and that made him dangerous.

“I cannot leave Natravi. My sword is still down there.” Drac said. “Luvrit!”

Natravi clamped down her ear at how loud her uncle shouted. Glancing over, she was surprised to see Luvrit standing unaffected.

“Yeah Drac?”

“Can I trust you to protect her?”

“What do you mean?” He frowned. “I’m going down there-”

“No Luvrit, you’re not.” He interrupted. “You’re going to get out of here, taking Natravi with you.”

“Uncle what about you?” she asked. However, they both ignored her and continued to glare at one another.

“I don’t owe you anything,” He finally said.

“No Luvrit, you don’t. But I ask this not as a mercenary, I ask this as a concerned uncle for his niece. You can do whatever you want after, but until she tells you that she is safe will you promise me to be by her side and protect her? Please.”

“You would die fighting here, do you want that?”

Natravi looked back with wonder, how could he seriously have this conversation with her right infront of him. He was planning to die for…for an acquaintance at best while she stood before him, having just reunited with her.

“…Do you really think I will fall so easily Luvrit? Look me in the eye and tell me if I’m lying when I say that I promise stop these undead from leaving this cavern. They will not reach out of the ground and all this rest on whether you will promise me, on your life, that you will protect my niece. Otherwise I will leave here and then you will die and your friend; Peter and Fliss will die and then your entire city will be destroyed. Choose Luvrit.”

“No! Uncle, wait we can-”

“I’ll do it! I promise to keep her safe Drac.”

“Luvrit, she is the most important thing to me, if I find out that you broke your promise; I’ll be worse than god for you.”

“No need to threaten me Drac; I promise on my life that I will protect Natravi until she’s reached safety and until she says so.” Luvrit gave a nod as he made his way over. “Come one now Natravi, we don’t have much time.”

“Stop! Luvrit, I don’t need you! Uncle, I won’t leave you-” but before she could continue he suddenly pushed her back, knocking the wind out of her and sending her tumbling into Luvrit who fell to the ground.

“RUN!” he shouted.

“[Textus ignis]”

She looked on in shock as the orange flames wrapped around him, engulfing him completely before she could even scream.