“Don’t charge!” I yelled in opposition to the King. But I was too late, and they didn’t listen to me. Only Samira, Aster, and Crick remained. Not overly surprising, considering the King is, well, the King. They sound like a stampede as they trample forward.

Gritting my teeth, I glare at the King, who is eyeing me. “The numbers are nearly one to one! We had plans in place! But, hells, you should have at least sent in the manifestations as a vanguard!”

“Such are the actions of cowards! Our duty is to fight beside those we manifest!”

Taking a step toward him, I wrap a hand around the hilt of my sword. It’s a foolish action, he’d cut me down in seconds, but I don’t back down. “All you’ve done is sent many more to die than needed.”

The charging cry redoubled, and the chittering grew louder. I slap a hand to my ears, grit my teeth, and turn toward the battle. Those at the front have already fallen to the ground clutching their heads. Those with more fortitude were swinging their weapons through the pain of the noise, of the rabbits ripping at their flesh. They didn’t last much longer.

“This is all you’ve done!”

Golden energy sweeps from him, forming Piety even as he draws his sword. His breaths are ragged and fogging the air around his face. “Fool boy! If you think yourself more capable than your KING, stand ready!”

Snorting, I rip one of the final pouches I have and heave it into the sands at his feet before looking back to the battle. “The battle would already be done.”

His face takes on a plum hue, and he levels his sword at me. “I should—”

“Just shut up. I’ve got to minimize the damage. Suppose you want to go at it later, fine. I don’t care.”

Taking a step forward, Piety grabs me by the front of my shirt and lifts me into the air. “Petulant little pustule.”

{Growl. Target the King}

Desperation complied. With both heads held low, he bared his teeth, growled, and started for the King one step at a time.

“You who’s master talks of honor has so little that you’d attack me? I have already attacked the enemy and spent my Endurance on an assault whose only purpose was to dwindle the enemies’ numbers.”

The King snorts. “Release him. He still has a duty to do.”

He drops me. It may have only been a few feet, but I nearly lose my footing. Piety chortles and my blood feels like it’s about to boil.

That manifestation needs to go. While it may have been a minor problem, now it’s a major nuisance.

“Well, isn’t he a summer breeze?”

Pausing, I look over at Crick, who looks like he’d had a lemon squeezed into his mouth.

There’s no keeping the small smile from my face, so I don’t. “You can say that.”

“Someone, not my mind, but someone ought to tell him that being a giant wad doesn’t make him a good leader.”

I chuckle. It’s all I can manage amongst the screams echoing from the field ahead.

The smell of blood burns in my nose. They’re screaming. They’re dying.

Worse, I did this.

“Look, just be ready to discharge everything you’ve got.”

He grabs my arm. “You’re kidding, right? Your people are out there! They’d get fried just as quick as the rabbits.”

Jerking my arm away, I offer him a hard look. “Just be ready.”

I fitted my feet once more into the straps on the board and took up the reins. I snap at Desperation. “Let’s go.”

{Rush the center. We’re cutting a path.}

“Wooooo,” Desperation didn’t need to be told twice, and we jerk into motion. I’m starting to think he just loved to run. Then again, with seven legs and the ability to travel at around thirty miles an hour for about half a day, I can’t say I blame him. It must be exhilarating to go that fast.

In just a few seconds, we’re carving through the battlefield. Rabbits are flying this way and that. At least that was the case for those that Desperation didn’t just eat. Turning, I send another bomb into a friendly free area blasting a handful of the creatures to pieces.

Pulling out my sword, I swung toward the rabbits as I passed. They fall in a gout of blood.

Curving around to make another pass, I close my eyes as another of the warriors falls. There’s no saving her either, her screams of pain cut out as quickly as they began. She’s not the only one either. I know it’s not just the enemy I’ve been driving over.

May their spirits if they exist, no, they exist. They live, and now they’re dying. May they forgive me.

Leaning to the side, I swing again and duck beneath a descending rabbit. Pain. Dropping my sword, I grab my side. I don’t need to look to see what happened. That’s as simple as feeling the hot liquid slipping between my fingers.

My wound had reopened. Today is just not my day.

” Get away from the wires!” I yelled at the warriors. Two warriors, both of the red, die as they turn to me. Blood spurting from their legs as they fall, and the hare’s stampede over them.

A short way off, a warrior raises her hand into the air. “The Chosen is here!”

“You can stay here!”

She looks confused but keeps her hand in the air, so I doubt she understood—a pity.

[Begin to circle wide.]

As Desperation begins to curve around, I bury my sword into the sand and flick it up, sending the wire atop the sands further away. One wire after another, they were slung away. With each pass, more sand flew into the air.

“Get away from the wires!” I yelled again, though most were already in the process of retreating.

A screaming hare surges at me from below. It dies as I strike it with the round of my sword, its head caved in. More dive at me from above. My swing is more of a backhand, but the rabbits fall on either side of me.

Ahead of me, Desperation snags two out of the air, their bones breaking amidst the canines closing jaws even as he stops. I slide by, ducking beneath another of the incoming predators.

Plunging my sword into the sand, I grimace as my arms jerk violently. The pain is immediate.

[HOWL]

I also yell as I send the message via the mental tether to Desperation and Tenacity.

“HOWL!”

Both heads take up the call. It’s loud, deep, and ignites some primal fear in me that nearly had me stepping back even though I’m in motion.

The world around me ignites in an almost bright orange and yellow light.

Screams belonging to both warrior and rabbit alike rend the air, accompanied by the smell of burning hair and cooking flesh.

A dark form appears from the light and hurtles down into my chest. Dropping my sword, I grab it as recognition comes. It’s a fried rabbit. The smell of its burnt coat twists my stomach.

The contents forcefully make their escape.

Wiping my mouth, I take my sword in hand and kick the carapace from my feet.

The light fades, and I concentrate on the sound or lack of it. There’s not the slightest bit of chittering. Instead, I allow my eyes to close and laugh out loud. It’s a laugh of a person relieved to be alive.

Desperation growls. My laughter stops.

“Are you the one laughing? You’re scaring the piss out of your soldiers.”

My laughter begins all over again.

“Hey, did I get you? Euphoria can be a side effect of a large enough shock!”

I just laughed all the harder right up to the point where Desperation whined and lay its head down on my face. Then, the euphoria raced away faster than shadows from a flipped light switch.

“Get off. You giant pain.”

Despite shouting, my words are little more than a garbled mess. To top it off, Desperation doesn’t move in the slightest. A brief chuckle starts a round of laughter.

Grasping at Desperation’s snout, I shove the canine off of me. “I’m going to stuff you!”

The second of his head replaced the first.

[Get off!]

Desperation rumbled deep in his throat as he raised himself to his feet. That they’re not wrapped in the ropes is more than a little bit of a surprise. One glance toward its feet and the shredded remains of the braided tethers explains it all, however.

Climbing to my feet, I give him a scratch on the neck and grin as its back leg begins to jump and scratch wildly at the sand.

“If you’re going to stay down there all night, I will head back to the Inn and celebrate without you.”

“You do tha-” I pause, seeing Cola circling about her feet before starting again. “You do that. I’ve things to take a look at before I can make it out to celebrate.”

The sand burst outward. At its center was a vampiric hare. Not the average vampiric hare either, but one capable of fitting my skull into its mouth. Something about the way it closed the distance makes me think that just so happened to be its goal. Maybe it’s how it’s angled or the ravenous look in its eyes.

The sand opposite me exploded outwards as well. However, it wasn’t another hare but Tenacity.

The weasel-like creature buried its shovel-like claws into the rabbit in a spray of blood. The two tumbled through the air and crashed. Limbs are flailing, but there are no screams of pain, only soft gurgling.

I’m on the move before I realize it.

As I reach into the tangled mass of limbs, Tenacity rounds on me, its orange eyes glowing amid the moonlight. She buries her claws into the furry form, tilts her head skyward, and screeches her victory.

“Well, seems like lady luck favors you, Prince.”

I regard him with a shrug. “All I know is right now. I need a drink.”

He laughs. “Come on; I know a place. It’s pretty nice too.”

I nod and catch Samira’s eye. “Can you see to the hares in the cages?”

She bows. “Of course Highness.”

— —

There’s something off about his Highness. I know it. His befriending of the Trinniel soldier is only further proof.

As the two of them move off back toward the City, I motion to Aster. “You’ll see to it that he’s fine?”

I know there’s no need to order her or even ask. She’d do it even if I said nothing.

But she bows her head and answers nonetheless. “I will not disappoint you, Samira.”

I nod and clap her on the shoulder. “If I thought you would, I wouldn’t have asked, girl,” I answer with a laugh.

I believe you would. A poor shield is better than no shield.

A true statement, but Aster is a fine warrior. Between the beasts that have found their way to him and her, his Highness will be fine.

Perhaps, but as you are the Lady Prime should he not have indicated she stay behind?

Natalia is the lady prime. And the title of crown prince has not been given.

I start to chuckle.

Said laugh catches in my throat as the light on her stabilizer goes out. As she turns to run off after the two.

“Aster, wait.”

She stops and turns. The light’s on.

Did I imagine it? It wouldn’t be a stretch considering the amount of people who’d had their stabilizers fail recently.

“Samira?”

I wave off her question. “Never mind, be off. I’ll be along as soon as I’m able.”

She doesn’t seem sure at first but hightails it a moment later. If there just so happened to be something wrong with Aster’s stabilizer, his Highness is the only one with a chance to fix it.

For a time, I watched her, half expecting her to stop and drop to the sands like a puppet that’s had its strings cut.

Love, follow her and make certain she makes it to his Highness.

Of course.

As she begins to form it feels as if someone placed a cool cloth on my face. It hardly takes a few moments before she is rushing off into the distance a small cloud of sand at her heels.

I turn my attention to my task. Why the Prince wants to collect these creatures, I don’t know, but it doesn’t matter either.

I break into a jog to cross the distance as quickly as possible, putting intent to action.

The green looks up as I approach.

“How many cages do we have that aren’t filled?”

She answers with a shake of her head and gestures to the cages around her. “All of them are filled, Lady Prime.”

Indeed they are, and many are in perfect health and fully intent on attaining freedom by clawing and gnawing on the iron bars, but according to the blood seeping from the cages, several of them are dying. A handful have already passed.

“You, replace the ones that won’t survive the night. His Highness has a purpose for living creatures.”

“Are you certain, Lady?”

She recoils as I narrow my eyes. “I am quite sure.”

She jumps and scrambles to replace them while I point at the red, looking about helplessly just a few feet away.

“What are you doing?”

She looks at me pleadingly. “His Majesty has ordered me to collect the blast pouches that didn’t detonate during the battle.”

Ah. Offering the red an understanding nod, I scan the ground and pause—there are no blast pouches in sight. The entirety of their number likely detonated when Crick discharged his electricity.

A glint in the sand pulls my attention, and I sweep away the sands to find the cable the battery-man had used. It was wrapped in glass.

Impressive. I doubt more than a handful of Crick’s people could safely discharge such a large amount, let alone contain it.

“Did you find any lady prime?”

“Afraid not. Keep searching. I’ll send a few purples to aid you.”

The sand shifts beneath my feet, and I rush to get out of the way. I flip backward and draw my sword. The vampiric hare is airborne even as I land and swing. It squeals in pain as it catches the rounded edge of the blade to its ribs.

“Everyone be wary. There are stragglers.”

“Damn Subterror’s.” A red spat.

I can’t help but nod in agreement, but I’m glad the Prince is gone.

Clamping down on the nape of the hare’s neck, I grimace at the tiny creature. “I hope his Highness can truly find a use for you things.”

A sigh escapes me.

“Without Tolwren, we’ll need him.”

I wouldn’t have believed it before. That the Prince I’d hated the thought of serving changed so much. Even if he seemed to be lacking something, like part of him was missing. Ever since his head injury, however, he’s been different.

More aggressive.

More decisive.

More intelligent.

Just more.

And with the two creatures that have taken up residence beside him, I find I believe Lady Rue.

A howl echos across the distance.

His Highness Prince Vandal is genuinely one who the Goddess has chosen.

— —

I don’t know if it’s because of the way he said it or some other factor I’m too tired to think about right now, but I should’ve known better. There’s only one place to drink in the City outside a personal residence.

Moon Rise.

The City’s only inn was designed and built for any visiting diplomats, and not many ever did.

Considering they rarely came, it’d become a popular place for those celebrating their Friday night.

Crick opened the door.

Clang.

A bell rang.

Burnt bread, searing meat, a medley of spices, a strange funk that I can’t quite place, laughter, the clinking of glass, a haze of smoke that hovered chest high and stretched to the ceiling, yeah, it smells a lot like what I thought it would.

“I told you it’s great.”

“You call this great?”

Pinching my nose, I glare at him. “It might be great if they scoured this place with some cleanser.”

Crick laughed, took a seat at the bar, and raised a hand. “The usual, please.”

A large woman clad in green answered with a nod and lifted a cask onto the counter.

He then proceeded to pull a flask from his side and a pouch of water. Next, the Barkeeper placed half a dozen shot glasses in front of him. They weren’t anything to write home about save the fact they were in different colors. The same colors that marked the classes in the City. Purple, green and red, and white.

Crick began filling the glasses in alternating order. Flask, waterskin, an amber liquid filled by the bartender, two more from the water skin, and one more from the flask.

Said flask contained only a fruity tea that aided in iron and copper chelation, a necessary tool to assist in the iron and copper chelation that came with holding and discharging electricity. Neglecting it often leads to side effects such as headaches, copious amounts of pain, stiffness, vomiting, diarrhea, and death. Death is the worst side effect.

“Take a seat. Barkeep, you want to pour my friend a glass of the good stuff you keep hidden. You know the stuff for important people.”

“And what makes you thi—”She starts to sneer and freezes like a deer caught in the headlights upon seeing me. Or Aster, who is likely wearing a thunderous expression, trying to keep the other patrons at a distance.

A silly thing as the bar was filled with celebrating warriors or those drowning their woes in alcohol.

As if there’s salvation at the bottom of a glass.

“Hello,” I wave at her.

“Highness! Uh- Right away!” She dropped to her knees and rifled through her shelves until she came away with three very dusty shot glasses and a large tankard.

“Just let me clean these, and I’ll be right back, sir.”

She charges her way into the back, and a moment later, there’s a crash of glass.

“Everything alright back there?”

Crick starts chortling into his hand as he holds the first of the glasses deftly, keeping it from spilling a drop.

“Oh, yes. Of course. I’ll be right back.”

The sound of shattering glass erupted.

Crick’s laughter which had been subsiding, began all over again. Or it started too before he suddenly took a deep breath and grabbed at his head. He downed the first glass, then the second and third in quick succession.

He places his head in one of his hands and looks at me grimly.

“Methinks she’s been hoping to use those glasses for a very long time and had given up.”

It seemed pretty likely I’d give her a trait like that. It hit the major marks, at least. A dream that would never be fulfilled because the royal line had never entered the building before. Or, as far as they knew, hadn’t. About twenty years ago, the current King’s older brother used to frequent the inn in disguise. Course, he went as green, so no one looked twice at him.

With a roll of my eyes, I respond. “Well, I’m happy to make her day.”

“Such a stiff response from the one everyone claims as to the sage! Why even Ama has spoken of not but the molten quality of your eyes.” He said as he took a pull from his flask before resetting the glasses for another pass.

“Methinks she might even have a bit of want for you.”

“Is that what you think, Crick?”

Somehow her words found a moment of silence amidst the celebration so that she didn’t have to yell. Yet, despite its low volume, its effect on the room was massive.

Those partying stopped, the barmaids once busy bussing tables, and even the Barkeeper stopped what they were doing to pay attention to Ama.

As for Crick…

The look on his face as Ama spoke was a thing of absolute surprise and no small amount of regret. Craning my neck, I found Ama looking down on us from the railing above.

“Weren’t you talking just the other day about how beautiful his eyes were, Lady?”

Ama nodded, holding her glass of wine up to gaze into it. “So I was, and his rump as well. I just didn’t think you the sort to gossip.”

Crick’s mouth snapped shut as I stood and moved toward the middle of the room, avoiding Aster’s reaching hands. The crowd splits around me, choosing to all but stand atop one another in their effort to give me sufficient space.

I slapped on a smile I can only hope was apologetic and began. “Sorry, he’s seemed a bit off since frying all of the rabbits.”

Her eyes narrowed. “Is that so?”

I nod.

“Mayhaps he should retire for the night then?”

Stiffly Crick stood and began making his way through the now-silent crowd toward the stairs, clapping me on the shoulder.

“Of course Lady,” he said.