Dakkar Nevin stared at the limestone wall in front of him in a delirious haze, spurred on to breathe by a mixture of sleep deprivation, dehydration, heatstroke, and starvation.

How many days had it been since he’d last been fed? What was the point of keeping track? So he could waste water and complain to deaf Alazarite ears?

“Dak. You still...alive? Awake?” Dreya’s hoarse voice echoed through the iron bars to his left.

Dakkar parted his crusted lips. “Yep.”

“Good.” Dreya muttered, “Still waiting?”

“Nope. Just rotting.”

“And so he sees the light!” Aram’s voice scraped his throat from three cells over.

It had taken three years and seven months for Dakkar to give up on waiting for Mattiew to come rescue them. Dreya was more obsessed with him. Not so the Witch Hunter could free them. But rather, to make a gory mess of his innards if she ever got her hands on him.

Assuming she even had the strength to tackle him.

Alazarite prison was the worst in Dakkar’s professional opinion. In addition to the food issue, they had access to water every three days, just so the mercy of death would never come. The prison had been engineered with the worst possible ventilation that didn’t work at all during the blazing desert days and operated as smooth as a healer's balm during the frigid nights.

When had the Scourgers gotten so greedy as to think they could rob a high Vizier?

Probably around the time Mattiew settled down. The Black Tongue’s heir had always been the glue that kept the disparate fleets of the Sea Scourgers together and kept the head fleet’s ego in check.

Mattiew only let in those who stood for something with as much passion as himself. Those who were failed by the systems they were born into and tried to be better than the people who had labeled them as outcasts. But being kind of decent doesn’t make one exempt from error.

All these young and eager vagabonds blamed Nikoliades for their downfall. But a Captain’s fleet incapable of operating without its Captain is pretty pathetic in and of itself.

Still, Dakkar understood them. When Mattiew left them for greener pastures, he took it the hardest. He’d tried to be a similar leader in the Witch Hunter’s absence, but...no man could simply replicate the heir to the Black Tongue.

Dakkar wished for those days on occasion. When there was heroism in being a mercenary. When the stealing and sabotage had a point to make.

But...it was hopeless now. The sorcerers trapped humanity and the Nightborn. The Scourger fleets cared about no one but themselves. You either put up with the systems of the Empires, suffered the wrath of the Wildlands, or joined a fleet only to get captured by a young glory-seeking noble.

Most weren’t in a position to defy the kings keeping them safe from the horrors outside humanity’s borders. Those who could had no reason to. None except the Sea Scourgers. But their golden age was over. Dakkar didn’t hold it against Mattiew for drifting away to settle down.

If Dakkar’s family was still with him, he’d do the same.

To some degree, Dakkar thought the younger Scourgers had a right to be upset. But their spite did nothing for them. What good would Mattiew’s return be if the Scourgers told him to go shove it up his ass?

Two pairs of footsteps marched down the halls of the prison. Was it a feeding day?

Keys jangled outside the metal-reinforced door of his cell. An Alazarite guard accompanied by a man with a lion’s mane of black hair and olive Cudean skin stepped through.

“Ancient Kings, that’s a stench.” Mattiew gagged.

Dakkar stared at Mattiew, dumbfounded.

“Dakkar.” Mattiew squatted down next to him. After a few moments, the Witch Hunter snapped his fingers a few times. “What, did you finally go senile?”

“Is that Mattiew fucking Nikoliades?” Dreya’s muffled voice screamed through the walls.

Scourgers in the other cells started chatting and commenting in response.

“Quiet!” the guard snapped, silencing them.

“You can try to kill me later, Dreya. Same goes for any of you fucks. But if you want me to pay off your sentence, you’d better calm down.” Mattiew responded.

“You...you came back.” Dakkar still couldn’t process it. They hadn’t met face to face in almost seven years.

“‘Course I did. I’m not gonna let you morons die in prison. But I came back on a condition.” Mattiew sighed, “I couldn’t get all the money to get you guys out on my own. So I made a deal. One last job in exchange for your freedom.”

“I thought you were a family man now! Too good for us!” Dreya’s voice mocked.

“Think what you want, Dreya…” Mattiew hesitated, “Fact is, I’m here. I’m doing this job, then I’m going straight back to where I came from. Only difference is that you guys aren’t rotting in prison. So what do you say?”

“What’s the job?” Dakkar asked.

Mattiew’s lip took on that mixture of purse and grimace whenever he knew how stupid his next words were going to be. “I...I need to win the Bellirex.”

Dreya burst into a loud fit of laughter.

“The client wants you to...what?” Dakkar asked.

“Win the Bellirex. I need to become a king. Or rather, make him a king.”

“You’re an idiot.” Dakkar could think of no other response.

“That’s putting it lightly!” Sedis shouted.

“Either you guys help me fight in the Bellirex or you get to rot.” Mattiew raised his voice for the rest of the Scourgers. “Even if you die, you’ll at least have a chance to save your own skins.”

“Who said we weren’t gonna save our own skins here?” Dreya asked.

“Four years and an eavesdropping guard.” Mattiew turned back to Dakkar, “I can’t back out of this deal, Dak. I already got the gold. I need you guys to do this with me. Whatever you choose, the others will follow. One last hurrah. Maybe even show those sorcerer assholes what us Scourgers are made of.”

Mattiew wasn’t a sorcerer. And he certainly didn’t have a Kingmaker. This job involved a con on top of winning the actual tournament.

“Who’s paying our debts?” Dakkar asked.

“Andar Callione.”

“Your in-laws?” Dakkar frowned, “Weren’t they-”

“Absolute lunatics? Yes.” Mattiew said, “But they want to be royals. And they made me do it.”

“I’m not helping crown that piece of shit.” Dakkar said. “I want my freedom. But if I have to put that Nightborn trafficking bastard on a throne, I’d rather serve my sentence.”

Mattiew looked down at the floor before opening his mouth again. “I...I thought you might say that. Which is why I have a plan. We still go and win the Bellirex. But then one of us takes the crown.”

Dakkar frowned.

“We always talked about it, Dak. A whole kingdom for you and yours. For me and mine. For every person that’s been failed by the Empires. A place where sorcerers are equal to commoners. No bureaucrats or caste systems.”

Dakkar hesitated. Mattiew was pulling on every bit of charisma he had, like a Siren trying to lure a young noble lady back home. But it was hard for him to not believe Mattiew. And for that promise? It was insane, but it would be more insane for Mattiew not to be suggesting it seriously.

“You and every one of the Scourgers would be free to make their own living instead of having to steal. Just like we wanted for Kwarsika.”

“What do you think, Dreya?” Dakkar asked.

“I think you should stick his head on a spike!” Dreya snapped, “This is a stupid, stupid, stupid, stupid plan. But it’s up to you, Dak...”

The other Scourgers murmured in half-hearted agreement.

Mattiew smirked.

Dakkar sighed, “So...you still believe in that stupid old dream.”

Dakkar cut off Mattiew’s response with a wave.

“I...I do too. As stupid and hopeless as it may be. Fuck it. Let’s win the Bellirex.”

***

Adriana didn’t have much to do but wait on the ship as Mattiew and her father went to bail out her husband’s former allies.

They’d docked on the northern shores of Alazar. Even here along the Central Sea, the land’s arid climate persisted through the sparse greenery.

Adriana moved her gaze back to the Callione boat, unintentionally locking eyes with her mother, Reina Callione. She maintained her gaze rather than looking away. She refused to submit to that woman.

Reina stood taller than most women, a trait passed down to Adriana. She was nearing her fiftieth year, but looked as though she’d just turned forty, thanks to a vain attempt to keep herself youthful through sorcerous and medicinal means.

Though if anyone was to be blamed for said vanity, Andar and his cold disregard for Reina took the top spot. Her face lacked any form of blemishes and her black hair was unnaturally jet.

The matriarch of the Callione house wore the most exquisite gowns and linens money could buy, dyed black and stitched with the gold, white, and red accents to fit in with the color schemes the Calliones had an affinity for.

“Come to gloat about the curse?” Adriana asked. “Do you consider it your latest masterpiece?”

“I take no pleasure in this.” Reina walked down to Adriana and Mattiew’s portion of the deck.

Adriana leaned against the edge of the boat with a scoff. “Please. We both know you’ve always been a better caster than Father. I know you take pride in that.”

Reina gave Adriana a glare as she smoothed out her linens.

“That doesn’t mean I had to enjoy it.” Reina muttered. “That’s your problem. You only assume the worst in people. Unless they’re a poor street rat you can take pity on.”

“Don’t come to me with insights about my character after seven years of no contact, Mother. It’s unseemly.” Adriana crossed her arms. “And even if that were the case, it might do you well to consider that my assumptions aren’t baseless. Especially factoring in all the time you and father spent ‘teaching’ me sorcery.”

“I don’t need your judgement.” Reina sneered.

“Then consider it a gift.” Adriana refused to look her mother in the eye. It would just bring the stirring cauldron in her chest to a troublesome boil she didn’t want to deal with.

“Why did you run off with that...mongrel? Certainly you could’ve found a better suitor than him.” Reina’s stare demanded her reciprocation. “Were you that eager to leave?”

Adriana considered for a moment.

When he took a mistress, Andar had called Reina a failure of a wife. It seemed that now, she believed herself to be a failure of a mother as well.

This pitiful chase for a drop of validation, made Adriana squirm. Like a woman caught in this very Alazarite desert scrambling for a single drop of water.

But as much as Adriana wanted to scorn her mother, it wouldn’t help anyone. She wouldn’t lie either.

“No…” Adriana said. “I left when I did because I love Mattiew. It’s as simple as that.”

Reina scoffed with hollowness. “I’m impressed that you still do. Take it from someone who knows the game. That won’t be the case for much longer. Love is temporary. It’s a fire that burns up the passion of its victims before even a decade passes. Once it’s gone, it’s gone.”

“Are you telling me that it’s wrong to marry for love?”

How dare she regard Adriana’s mercy with such coldness?

“Why would it be right? Affairs are much better ways of handling love. You should marry for wealth. Prestige. Those things last. And they’re actually worth a damn. Look at what love has gotten you.”

Adriana waited for a sorely missed ounce of self-awareness in Reina’s eyes until it was clear it would never come. “Well, perhaps my personal experience just happens to find love fulfills me more than creature comforts and the opinions of others.”

“You sound like a Rajgarhi hack. Going on about how the journey is more important than the destination.” Reina leaned against the railing with Adriana. “Perhaps men have that luxury of finding fulfillment in what they do. But that is not a choice noblewomen have. Our lives are predetermined. The journey has already been decided. Results are all that we have control over.”

Adriana raised an eyebrow. “Is there a reason you chose this moment to offer a life lesson to me?”

“Your mongrel will die in the Bellirex.” Reina pushed off the railing, lingering near the center of the deck. “When he does, I’m asking you to please come back home. We can help you get on the right path. I can set you up with any of the most powerful and influential nobles in the world. I can-”

Adriana clicked her tongue in annoyance. “You won’t buy my obedience, Mother. It’s not for sale. I killed the perfect little follower you and Father raised years before I left the house.”

“I’m not asking for your obedience, Adriana!” Reina raised her voice. “I’m just asking for you to grow up a little and see the things that matter in this world.”

Any pity Adriana had left evacuated the recesses of her mind. She scrunched her nose up at her mother before storming past her.

Adriana muttered under her breath, “If anyone needs to grow up, it’s you.”

***

Mattiew stared out at the sea, as Scourger ships wove around the Calliones’ craft with the same patterns of gulls and seabirds. He had his eyes glued to the Peacemaker, the state of the art warship he’d stolen before the Black Tongue had abdicated his position.

His chest was heavy with tar and venom. As though lead weights were hooked onto every organ.

Mattiew didn’t believe in sin, purely on principle. The sacred always seemed like an outdated and inefficient concept that was there to get in the way. The oaths, the Eightfold Pact, all of it.

Still, there were two things he held as truly sacred to himself. First were his vows of marriage to Adriana. The second was the promise of creating a better world for vagabonds like himself.

So many times, had the powers that be torn hope out from under the feet of common folk. So many times, the Eightfold Pact, that was meant to serve all humanity, betrayed his heart. For him to then string along his dear friends by their noses...it was unforgivable.

To let Adriana die, however, would be as disgusting a violation as the first option. In a moment of rashness, he’d gone and done it. He’d used the hopes and dreams of his Scourgers as mere bait.

“I...I can’t believe I said that.” Mattiew muttered.

“Hm?” Adriana lifted her head off his shoulder as they laid together under the Callione ship’s front tent.

“I tried to get them to come without using it. But…”

“Darling...what’s wrong?” Adriana gently moved his gaze to her. Her concern, rather than lifting the weight, only made it more intense.

Mattiew shifted his eyes away. “I told them we were...we were going to make our...thing. Our idea for a government.”

“Ancient Kings…Mattiew...I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be.” Mattiew said. “I...I lied to them. I did the same exact thing the Empires did to us.”

“Mattiew.” Adriana forced his face to look at her. “Don’t say that. If all goes well, you won’t have lied to them. You’ll be able to win that crown for the Scourgers in truth. I promise.”

“You can’t know that, Adriana. If I-”

“If, if, if. Who cares about if’s, sweetheart?” Adriana stroked his hair, her fingers soothing him. “Everything, everything, we’re doing right now is a risk just as big. We dove into murky waters long ago. What’s hating yourself going to do about that? I understand how big of a deal this is for you, Mattiew. But we’re already here. Let’s just try to make the best of it.”

Mattiew sighed. “My...my life feels like a tower, balanced all on a single brick. With every moment, your father chips away at that brick, causing everything to just...collapse. I can’t help but dwell on the if’s.” He let out a quivering breath.

Adriana slapped a weak hand on his chest. “Your name is Mattiew Nikoliades. You are the Witch Hunter of Diodes. Captain of the Sea Scourgers. You have fought tooth and nail for everything you have. What’s a few more weeks?”

Mattiew hung on Adriana’s words as she paused.

“If you won’t trust in yourself...trust in me, Mattiew. And believe that I’m right when I say you will come out of this stronger.”

Mattiew let himself crack a half smile as warmth spread through his body. “Well, there’s no arguing with that, is there?”

“However things turn out, you’ll do just fine.” Adriana kissed him.

Mattiew took her hands in his and held her gaze. “Only because I have you. You’re the most incredible, intelligent, and wonderful person in the world.”

Adriana looked away, her face burning up. “W-Well, I know all that.”

A lopsided grin appeared on his face. “My eloquence doesn’t follow me into sincerity.”

“Then why don’t you show me how much you love me as you spoil me tonight?” Adriana donned a mischievous smirk and dragged Mattiew down to the deck with her.

***

Mattiew woke up with a snort, immediately assaulted by the glare of the sun. The cries of sea birds didn’t help the vertigo.

As his ears cleared up, Adriana’s words finally reached his skull.

“Mattiew? Look! Out there!” Adriana pointed excitedly out in front of them.

The breath that fled his lungs failed to replace itself as Mattiew’s eyes laid upon the city of Veyshtar.

“Ancient Emperors…” Mattiew gasped.

As the Calliones’ boat drew closer to the golden city, Mattiew could take in everything the origin of humanity had to offer. The skyline was dotted with massive temples dedicated to each of the eight ancient kings, casting giant trapezoidal shadows in the dawn.

The sunlight reflected off every bare stone in the city and gave it a shine like gold. The gold contrasted the vibrantly stained blues and verdant flora with impeccable taste.

If nothing else, the city lived up to the stories. Mattiew assumed the descriptions were always inflated.

Even from this far out, Mattiew could note the Palace of Tiamat atop Mount Zagras, the ancient temple to the queen of the dead gods. Its throne now belonged to the Queen of Veyshtar and was a popular place to declare one’s hatred for the gods.

Mattiew had spent much of his childhood in Cudea learning the stories and histories of humanity’s rise from the Wildlands and massacre of the gods. Though he didn’t care much for history, it was incredible to think that he approached the actual place where the gods were slain and the sacred oaths were taken. The site of the very last war that was ever fought.

Before this marvel, humans weren’t much more than the animals and monsters that surrounded them. They were primitive, nomadic, and at the mercy of the Wildlands. Humans were regularly hunted as prey, eaten alive, or forced by Nightdwellers to help ‘create’ their Nightborn.

The humans, enraged by their bleak fate, pointed to the gods as the ones to blame for their plights. They united under eight empires, each of which took sacred oaths to humankind and signed a blood pact.

The whole system of no war must’ve seemed nice. But it had become evident that without armed conflict, finding solutions to corrupt monarchs, ethnic and class prejudice, systemic poverty, overbearing regulation, exorbitant taxes, and other injustices was far more difficult.

Without the Mandate of Peace, the noble powerbase was fragile. Any sorcerer could easily be outmatched with enough strategy and numbers.

Still, while Mattiew opposed the system, he could appreciate the ideals that the Ancient Kings stood for when they forged the Eightfold Pact. But like most systems, selfish people found ways to abuse it.

“You said you always wanted to go to Veyshtar as a child.” Adriana offered him a smile. “Is it everything you hoped for?”

Mattiew grinned. “Not until you take me out to see it for real. Though...I wish it were under better circumstances.”

“Hey.” Adriana cupped his cheek. He gazed into her beautiful blue eyes, “Shut up and enjoy this, you ass.”

Mattiew held his wife’s hand to his face, reveling in the softness of her skin, “You’re right. Still have a few days to sightsee before the tournament.”

“One other thing before my parents wake up.” Adriana whispered into his ear, “Your wife still has a toe dipped in her father’s spy network. It turns out almost every noble family who can afford a spy has their own networks crawling all over the city.”

“You think one of them might leak information about our...plan to your father?”

Adriana shook her head. “No. They’re operating on behalf of the other contestants. The more chaos within our ranks, the better for them. This is a good thing. I can open the doors to let them stir up some trouble, cause a bit of discord on my own, and give us a few advantages.”

“You’ll be managing everything behind the scenes?” Mattiew asked.

Adriana nodded, “My parents’ network is too big for its own good. The people I have among them should be able to get you good information, if nothing else.”

“Does anyone else know?”

“No,” Adriana muttered, “But you can tell Dakkar. He’ll keep his lips tight. And...maybe that false Kingmaker of yours, Alo’aharu, if they prove to be trustworthy in the future. They'll be close by throughout the tournament. It might become more trouble than it’s worth to hide from them.”

“I never knew there would be that many people working as covert operatives.” Mattiew stroked his beard. “Seems like a breeding ground for chaos.”

“The Bellirex is the closest humanity’s ever gotten to war for...well, who knows how long? Every tactic, save battle itself will be put to use here. Everyone wants that crown.” Adriana warned. “Right now, we need to deal with pre-BellirexVeyshtar.”

“Pre-Bellirex Veyshtar?” Mattiew asked. “And by that you mean…”

“All those people who leave everywhere else empty and are hyped up on the tournament have to go somewhere. Our first trial is finding a place to dock.”

Mattiew understood what she meant as the docks became visible. They were all full to the brim. Gods, some boats were using other boats as docks. Everything from dingy canoes to triremes tried to squeeze into the harbor.

“Ancient Emperors, imagine being a merchant.” Mattiew muttered.

“Veyshtar has no sea trade during Bellirex season.” Adriana said, “Every space needs to be reserved for travelers for the Bellirex. I hear some people just abandon their boats and swim to the harbor once it all fills up.”

“Not to worry about our docking situation, Miss Adriana.”

Mattiew whirled around to face a slim human man with a scruffy beard but finely trimmed black hair in servant linens bowing to them.

“Uh...do we know you?” Mattiew asked.

“Mattiew, this is Lagopis, an old friend of mine and not that big a fan of my parents. He’s helping me with the whole...you know.” Adriana said before turning to her servant, “Lagopis, this is my husband, Lord Nikoliades. And I’m not a child anymore. If you’re going to be formal, call me Lady Nikoliades.”

Even seven years later, Adriana demanding to be recognized as part of his family sent a giddy shiver through Mattiew.

“Of course, Lady Nikoliades.” Lagopis said, “Forgive me. As I was saying, we need not worry about being overcrowded. Lord Callione has reserved a dock in the West harbor.”

Adriana scoffed, “Really? How much did that cost him?”

“Fifty-five pounds of gold.”

Mattiew choked and would’ve fallen over, had he not grabbed on to the railings on the boat.

“That much? Kings and gods, you could build a small town with fifty-five pounds.” Mattiew’s voice went higher than it had any right to go.

“High demand makes high prices, my lord.” Lagopis’s lips twitched as he tried to hold back laughter.

Mattiew shook his head. “That’s...absurd.”

Adriana entwined her fingers with his. “Come, darling. Let’s get ready to dock. I want to show you our vacation home before my parents’ existence spoils it all.”