March 17, 2019, 7:22 pm.

With Fethix joining us, I end up levitating her, so she doesn’t slow us down as we ascend. Despite her demands for a throne, I create something more akin to a motorcycle, lacking any functional parts such as wheels or an engine. The trek upward seems shorter than our descent. We reach an exterior door a mere five minutes after starting. There’s no sign of the Queen’s Knights. Or the Taken. Or any other K’tharn for that matter. Then again, it is the middle of the night.

Except… it isn’t. My time sense tells me it should be in the evening. The sun should be setting, not completely blacked out.

“Uh, guys,” I say, looking up at the overwhelming shadows. “It’s not nighttime.”

Beth follows my gaze, then looks around at the empty streets again. “Meet at rendezvous point banana-12. Josh, Roberts… Fethix, with me.” And just like that, it’s me Rufka and Tipan again. And to my slight disgruntlement, Fethix reveals she's perfectly capable of propelling the frame I built for her as she follows them.

While they disappear down a nearby back alley, we adopt our disguises then head down the main thoroughfare on high alert. I can’t even see the Fallen patrols I’m certain are flying overhead. Rufka is even more on edge than I am, her head snapping back and forth at the slightest sound. But everyone is behind closed doors. There’s nothing out here with us.

We’ve only gone half a block when I pull the others close and activate invisibility. There’s no sense making ourselves obvious targets. And with no-one else on the street, that’s exactly what I feel like, even in disguise.

Three city bridges later and we finally get our first clue as to what’s happening, a shadowy form streaking across the sky. It looks like the Dusk Athama are back. And this time it’s a full-scale assault.

As we’re scrambling toward the next bridge, a Dusk Athama the size of a dragon appears. It slams into the bridge, shattering it into a thousand pieces. An entire section of the city bobs and shakes for a second, some of the individual homes breaking loose. I can hear a child crying for help.

Turning to Rufka and Tipan, we reach a silent agreement with a single glance.

Not yet dropping my invisibility, we fly directly toward the rogue homes as a Flight responds, most of their members made up of Fallen. Did the Aetherium get more? They don’t appear to be helping the civilians but are instead attacking other dark shapes. Though they’re not faring well.

An entire squad is sent hurtling into the pit below when a single Athama explodes in their midst. Only their dragon-rider support seems unhindered, though they dash after their comrades.

We reach the spinning house, only to find that the door is barricaded. The crying from within is hushed by another voice. Instead of bothering them more, I fasten it to a nearby market with a few metal supports.

After another bridge is destroyed, I realize the city is drifting around in separate pieces. There’s no way of finding our way to the rendezvous.

“Well, this is cool,” Tipan says, though the word cool is in English.

“I don’t think you’re using ‘cool’ right,” I inform her.

“We should head to Betheryne. It’ll be safe,” Rufka suggests. Neither Tipan nor I have a better idea, so we drift to the South, avoiding battle as much as possible. It’s impossible to know how long the assault has been underway, but it seems like only the infrastructure is being targeted.

Well, and the Fallen.

Another patrol with Fallen is blown out of the air in front of us as we reach the outer city, making me wince. Surprisingly, the bridges here are more intact. It seems the M’tari have been prioritizing the inner city.

“Damn,” Tipan mutters. I follow her gaze to where a broken sphere is hanging listlessly, slowly slipping lower. It’s the same arena where we once watched Desh’mersa, the familiar logo of Tipan’s favourite Desh’mersa team, the Southern Tribunes, emblazoned on its sides. Except now it has a large jagged crack nearly splitting the dome in half, with several more scattered across the surface.

A cry from inside causes Tipan to twist in the air, zooming towards the building. We follow as she pushes herself through a partially open door, jamming the normally automatic mechanism to get through.

Inside the lights are flickering, the once steady enchantments disrupted by the damage. It only takes a moment for me to summon a ball of fire, but Tipan’s already nearly out of sight, flying down the corridor towards the cry for help. When Rufka pushes in behind me, I follow Tipan, attempting to reinforce the walls as we travel. I can’t repair the enchantments, but I can at least create steel reinforcements for the hallway.

Tipan is leaned over a dark-furred K’tharn when we enter the room, a group of other K’tharn standing around, some whispering to each other when we enter. They all look familiar. Tipan’s running her hand over her patient’s head, careful not to jostle them. The K’tharn has no obvious injuries, but Tipan remains still as the glowing circle pulses.

“Okay, I think she’ll be alright. Might take her a while to wake,” Tipan says, turning to one of the K’tharn hovering over her.

The K’tharn nods, her larger than average arms crossed, squeezing herself as she keeps her attention focused on the injured K’tharn. Another of the K’tharn, steps forward; She’s shorter than an average K’tharn, the top of her head not even coming up to my chin. Despite that, she radiates a ‘I’m in charge here’ sort of energy. Not unlike Beth. She places a hand on the burly K’tharn’s shoulders as she looks at Rufka and I. “Tipan tells us you’re all fans. Nice to meet you. I’m Advitha.”

She offers her hand, and I carefully take it, worried she might see through my new K’tharn facade. I’m still pretty infamous.

“Alexis,” I respond automatically, almost clapping myself on the forehead when I realize I forgot to give out my ‘K’tharn’ name. “What happened here?” I ask, trying to divert her attention using my most powerful weapon. Concern for something else. Their team seems mostly intact despite the structural damage, and there isn’t any debris in the room, so I’m a little surprised any of them are hurt.

“Same thing that’s happening everywhere. The depths-cursed squids have gone mad. We were fine until a couple minutes ago. Then a swarm of little shades showed up chasing one of those matted furs. We managed to barricade ourselves in here, but not before Kythee was hit,” she says, indicating the K’tharn Tipan was still balanced over. “And I still don’t know what happened to Jetho.”

“There’s someone else out there?” Rufka asks, turning back to the narrow opening.

“It was… It was the shadows,” the K’tharn Tipan’s been attending coughs out. “They took her. The shadows took Jetho.”

“Ukila above, that’s horrible,” the burly K’tharn groans. “Who’re we gonna get to play lower defence without Jetho?”

I stare at the burly K’tharn, but Advitha just sighs, “Baska, we’ve got more important problems. Like what’re the squids gonna do to Jetho.”

“Oh? You think they’re gonna hurt her?” Baska asks. “They’re always so nice when we visit.”

“Yesterday I would’ve agreed with you. But they’re destroying our home, Baska. And they hurt Kythee.” I’m feeling a little out of place, so while they continue talking, I pull Rufka into the hall. We check the rest of the building, but it looks like their team are the only people here.

Once we return, Kythee is back on her feet, talking in low tones with Tipan and her teammates. When we enter, I see Tipan glance up, before her ears fold back as she tucks away a Desh’mersa theet.

Tipan offers us a half-smile as she says, “Oh good. You’re back. Advitha was just telling me about the initial attack.”

“I was? Oh right, before we got side-tracked with the autographs,” Advitha nods, causing Tipan’s ears to practically hug her head. I choose to store that away for a more appropriate time to tease Tipan with while focusing on Advitha as she continues, “Well, it started a few hours ago with a small explosion at the south end of town. Didn’t seem important. Not even as much of a lightshow as when a mana-storm rolls up against the shield.”

“It was very pretty,” Kythee notes.

“Sure, the way the shadows crawled up the shield was definitely pretty. Not a sight you see everyday. But then the shadows disappeared and I thought it was the end of it.”

“But it wasn’t,” Rufka states, leaning against the narrow door while keeping watch outside.

Advitha shakes her head. “No. About an hour ago, the shield winked out and the city started shaking. Then the explosions hit. Thought it’d be safer to stay inside.”

Kythee nods. “Would’ve been fine if we could’ve gotten the doors to close. But the enchantments aren’t working right.”

Rufka taps my shoulder, indicating the hallway. I switch places with her as she studies the runework inside, retrieving a narrow tool before tracing it along a flickering rune. Even as I take her place, I hear Tipan ask, “What about the emplacements? They should’ve been firing.”

Baska shrugs. “Hard to tell. Defence department made a big announcement about upgrades a few years back, about how the emplacements were going to be quieter now. They’re probably working, but you’d need to be near one to find out. And I don’t know about you, but I’d rather not be next to a two-hundred-tonne ball of death-enchantment.”

Rufka scoffs, “I doubt there are any death enchantments built into the emplacements. Too narrow a focus. More likely lightning and fire.”

“I don’t think she meant literal… nevermind,” Advitha says as light flashes across the sky outside.

I speak through the doorway, my eyes still watching for moving shadows, “Looks like lightning.”

Any response is drowned out by a crack of thunder. That had to be close.

“Uh, Rufka, you might want to hurry,” I suggest as I float closer to the exterior, another bolt of lightning splitting the sky. But it’s not coming from within the city. The most turbulent mana-storm I’ve ever seen is descending on us.

“Almost…” Rufka mumbles. I’m barely able to discern her words as the next wave of thunder rolls over us, shaking loose the far side of the hall. So much for my attempt to keep it together. As the hide and bone wall floats away, it loses any semblance of rigidity, floating into the abyss like a loose plastic bag.

“Got it!” With a thunk, the door slides shut behind me. A second later it slides open, revealing Rufka with a smile that stretches to her ears. Her smile falters when she sees the open sky and the mana-storm above us. “Well, that’s not good. It’s going to get rough.”

“Think we should stay?” I ask. The nearby buildings are enduring the storm, but the infrastructure connecting them is now completely obliterated.

“What’s the issue?” Tipan asks, staring over Rufka’s shoulder. “Oh. That could be a problem.”

I glance at the team who’re standing at the far end of the room, talking in hushed whispers then back at Tipan’s ‘disguise’. “Yeah. We should probably wait out the storm. It’s-“

There’s a cry from outside, and I barely think before jutting forward to look. There’s a falling K’tharn, their leg trapped inside a piece of bridge that’s definitely not floating.

The storm dominates the sky, flashes of lightning in every direction. “There’s someone out there,” I say, floating out as I Pause time. Then I move forward, pulling the K’tharn free. She’s barely breathing as I bring her up to the shelter. Rufka tries to wave me in, but I push the K’tharn in first, turning back to take one last look, searching for anyone else.

I’m turning back to the door-

Everything goes white.

There’s a ringing in my ears as my vision starts to clear. The first thing I see is more white, tinged with black. Tipan has me in her arms. I watch Tipan’s lips moving and I can’t hear her. Which prompts me to shake with laughter. It shouldn’t be funny, but it’s just so… silly.

She glances down at me, her eyes wide. Probably at my inane laughter. I try to wave it off, but my arm ends just below my elbow. When I see the stump of my arm, I only laugh harder.

I spend minutes laughing before I’m jerked out of it by a wave of pain.

Blurry vision but I can briefly hear Tipan muttering above me. “I can’t do anything else, something’s-” Emptiness then, “-more mana.”

“We need to get her inside.” Rufka’s voice sounds rough. Like she’s been eating too many sugared meats again. I try to reach out to her, to chastise her. But my arm’s still missing, so I miss her completely. Then her voice again. “Keep her still. She’s going to hurt herself.”

Tipan’s response is lost as I’m wrapped in a cocoon of warmth.

When I next open my eyes, my view is filled with Rufka’s tawny-brown fur. So pretty.

“Thanks,” Rufka responds, running a hand over my face. Her cheeks are matted. I’ve only seen her fur like that a couple times after she loses our water wars. Rufka doesn’t cry.

“You’ve been crying.” I’m not actually sure I say it. I can’t really hear my own voice. Which is weird. Should I be… Oh shiny.

Flailing around, I try to snatch a flashing light that’s passing between mine and Rufka’s face. It’s a shiny little snowflake. A gleaming remnant of beauty. It’s just like Rufka, but not as perfect.

“She’s really sweet when she’s…” I hear a voice. Tipan? Sounded like Tipan. But I can’t concentrate. On the voice. Or anything. The world’s getting dark again.

Pressure on my chest as the world goes black.

…TPWM…

Uthica opened her eyes. She was in her tent, fading light filtering in through the clear-silk. That meant it was either morning or evening. Last she remembered she’d been fighting in her sister spirit’s body. The power had been intoxicating. Different. More pure. Uthica pet the rumbling furball on her chest idly as she tried to understand what had happened.

Uthica? I can’t… I can’t concentrate.

Wait. Furball? Glancing down, Uthica discovered a powerful mana-hare. She knew its name was Smoulder, knowledge shared by Lex when she last visited. Smoulder nestled on Uthica’s chest in a manner that indicated a great deal of familiarity and comfort.

“Uthica?” Pern asks, rushing forward, dropping to his knees next to Uthica’s bed as he rested his hand against her head.

“Father? What happened? One second, I was visiting with the Stranger, the next… Pelthin!” Uthica sat up with a start as her eyes sought out the traitor. Uthica’d grind her up and feed her to her dragon. No, that was too good for her. She’d have her stripped of her System, then fed to the plants the herd beasts fed upon.

“Do not be too harsh with her. She saved your life as much as she endangered it,” Pern informed her, his frown informing her that he wasn’t pleased with his own words. Uthica stared at him.

“She stabbed me, Father.”

“I know.”

“She stabbed her queen. She must be punished.”

“I know.” His frown deepened, but he didn’t add anything else. Still, Uthica knew him.

“But you would advise against it? How long have I been recovering?” Uthica asked, looking for her tablet. Her chambers were empty of the usual clutter, her maps and artifact designs conspicuously absent.

“Nearly a week.”

“A week? Jethico?” Uthica asked, her fur ruffling with worry.

“Forestalled. Your friend Alexis helped convince them you were recovering.” Pern sat on her bed as Uthica paced the room, Smoulder jumping onto his lap.

I… Fuzzy bunny!

“Good. And the Beltain Clan? And the Kalpese?”

“They’re moving. Your aunt… she’s made moves to replace you.”

Uthica hung her head. It’d been a risk to contact Alexis, but she’d thought she’d mitigated them. Clearly, she’d been worried about the wrong person. She’d been certain Pelthin was loyal. At this point, Uthica was used to betrayal, but she’d hoped. She’d truly hoped that this time would be different.

Hugs Uthica. Hugs!

Uthica stopped pacing, a warm feeling washing over her as her eyes locked on the empty table before looking to her father.

“Stored away.” Pern pulled open one of the large pockets at his hip, withdrawing a book with careful motions. It bore a unique enchantment, one Uthica had developed after nearly a decade of work with spatial enchantments. With special runes to bind the space to only the book, it was a secret only her father knew of. A storage space untouched by the System.

Taking the book from her father, she set it on the table, pulling forth a single sheet at a time. A necessary compromise to maintain the spatial field without the System’s influence. And yet… just a taste of her sister's power had given her… ideas.

Before she could start going through the reports stored on top, Pern cleared his throat, causing her to look up.

“About Pelthin…” He started, pausing when Uthica clenched her fists, crumpling the reports in her hand. When she’d released her hands, smoothing the paper on the table, he continued, “She’s the only one we can trust.”

Uthica stared at her father, wondering if her latest near-death experience had been the pebble to send his mind into an avalanche of madness.

“She thought she was helping,” Pern noted as Uthica was inspecting him. “Your aunt had convinced her you were possessed, and the spear would free you.”

Uthica rubbed between her eyes, before shaking her head. “Why? Why would she believe that?”

“I… it’s my fault. She believed the facade I established that Jethico is to be trusted.”

Uthica couldn’t help but laugh at that. Despite the fact Uthica had pushed for the ruse, her father wanted to claim the guilt. “You know better than that. She’s the one who stabbed me through the chest!”

Chest. Hurts. Still hurts.

“Yes. Well, she wasn’t the only one concerned about your ‘secret stashes’ and the resources you were putting into them. I underestimated the concern.”

Uthica sighed as she turned to the reports. Pelthin was a problem for later. She’d have to deal with her, but if her father was certain she could be trusted. Well, Uthica would be increasing Pelthin’s training regimen. And it would be less than pleasant. Still, her father trusted less often than Uthica did herself…

Uthica started questioning him about other less personal, but potentially far more disastrous issues. They were discussing clan Beltain’s sudden change in meat pricing when Pelthin stepped into the tent with a tray loaded with steaming bowls.

“My-my queen,” Pelthin stuttered, nearly dropping the tray as Uthica turned towards her. Pelthin used a short burst of wind-manipulation to right the bowls before bowing all the way to the floor. In that moment it occurred to Uthica that Pelthin was going to be even more obsequious. Which seemed eminently unfair. Why did Uthica getting stabbed result in greater suffering for her. If anything, Pelthin should have to stand and face her without the ‘my queen’s’. In fact…

“Pelthin.” Uthica schooled her face, not allowing a single flick of her ear to show.

“Yes, my queen?” Pelthin asked, still bowed low, the tray held parallel to the floor in front of her.

“I’ve decided on your punishment.”

“Anything you command, my queen.” Pelthin gushed, her shoulders sagging in relief, the tray dipping perilously close to the floor. Pelthin’s reaction helped convince Uthica that her father was correct.

“You are hereforth forbidden to refer to me as ‘my queen’ while in private counsel. Furthermore, you are forbidden to bow or avert your eyes unless directed to do so.”

“My- I- but…” Pelthin rasped out, dropping the tray the short distance to the floor as she attempted to keep her head bowed and meet Uthica’s gaze at the same time. Spotting the spilled stew, Pelthin immediately gasped, “Oh no. I’ll get refills.”

With a wave of her hand, she cleansed the stew from the floor and raced out of the room.

When Uthica turned back to the reports, her father was staring at her, only a single eyebrow raised. He didn’t say anything, but his reaction still caused her to chuckle as she returned to their work. When Pelthin returned several minutes later, Uthica couldn’t hold in her laughter at Pelthin’s attempts to say her name instead of the traditional ‘my queen’. It almost made getting stabbed in the gut worth it.

Almost?

Almost. Stabbing was not pleasant.

The night passed in relative peace, the only sound the buzz-like snoring of the camp’s lone mud-thorpe. And the gentle rumble of Smoulder’s purring where she was nestled on Uthica’s chest. Despite her father technically being a pet under the System, Uthica hadn’t had a pet in decades. There was never time for one. But her father assured her that the little mana-hare was entirely self-sufficient. Which had caused a couple incidents with the camp’s quartermaster until her father had stepped in.

Uthica found herself rubbing the little hare between the ears as she drifted off to sleep.

Night night!

…TPWM…

When I wake, pain asserts itself along my arm, the blinding flash almost causing me to pass out again. What… Uthica’s memories of waking are still fresh in my mind, but I can barely remember what happened before I joined her. We were talking with the Desh’mersa team. There was a mana-storm and then…

Sitting up slowly, I stare down at the stump of my arm. It’s not even the cause of the searing pain. It takes me far too long to realize I’m only looking out of one eye. Closing my eyes, dulls the pain, so I leave them closed as I open my status to check my conditions. Instead of activating instantly, my status flickers several times before finally listing my conditions.

That’s not a good sign.

In addition to the flickering System which isn’t listed, I have over a dozen conditions. Missing right hand, three months. Melted right eye, six months. Collapsed right lung, two months. Intermittent deafness, only one. Then there are several conditions related to burns on the right side of my body all with over a week. All together, my conditions decrease my maximum health by over half and my stamina by two-thirds. Then my system glitches and half the durations change, some increasing and others decreasing. And it does it again.

A bitter laugh leaves my lips as I realize the healing items we carry won’t be able to handle these injuries. Which means I’m a cripple until we find Roberts. I certainly don’t want to attempt a Restoration while the System is glitching, even if it says I haven’t used a charge.

Even if it worked, I doubt I’d be able to return to Akilo. Besides, after Beth’s reaction, I’m not certain I want to experience dying. Guess I should’ve thought of that before flying around in a mana-storm. All the storms we’ve passed through lately made me complacent.

At least I completed the quest to immerse myself in a mana-storm. No reward, but I now have a quest to enter five more. I’ll get right on that; I chuckle to myself.

My laugh turns into a coughing fit, the wheezing of my single lung struggling for air aided when I force more air through with wind-manipulation. Inspired, I attempt to restore my collapsed lung in a similar manner, but it leads to another coughing and wheezing session.

Does inflate it though.

It’s at this point that I realize I must be alone. I’ve made more noise than Rufka when she’s launching a ‘sneak’ attack on Tipan at three in the morning. Either of them would normally have at least greeted me. Oh, right. Maybe they did and I just didn’t hear them. Stupid deafness.

[Alexis] “Hey Wyonna, what’d I miss?”

[Alexis] “Wyonna?”

Okay, that’s weird. Checking my throat with my intact hand, I don’t feel a collar, so hopefully I wasn’t arrested in the middle of the battle. I double check my conditions, but there’s no clue there. Next, I focus on my connections, but there’s nothing but static. I can’t even tell what time it is. Freaking hell, I swear everything is broken.

Pushing myself up, I crack my single working eye open, inspecting my surroundings. I’m not in the stadium anymore. In fact, I don’t appear to be in any of the familiar buildings of Aethire. My current residence consists of wood-slat flooring, walls I can’t see, knick-knacks along the side hiding them away. I haven’t been here in nearly a month. I can’t begin to guess what we’re doing at Genitha’s cabin, but at least it means I’m safe.

I shuffle across the room, glancing out the small window. No sign of anyone on the lawn. When I reach the door, I glare at the wooden bar holding the door closed. Enchanted against elemental disruption. Not normally a problem when I have two hands. If I was a better enchanter, it would be a simple matter of using a keyed item to open it. But nope.

I wrestle the bar up with my single cramping hand, stopping to curse and let my vision clear each time I bump a burn. For the first time, I’m grateful for the experience of enduring the intense conditions of the first dungeon’s hidden training scenarios. Despite my grotesque injuries, I’m somewhat familiar with using my body when it's partially mangled. Which I’m not certain is a good thing, but it is what it is.

Eventually I work the bar free. Instead of putting it to the side in its normal resting place, I let it fall to the floor with a thud. As it hits the floor, my stomach rumbles, informing me I should've stopped for a meal before going exploring. But I can eat whenever. I’ve only been awake for a few minutes but not having anyone around is starting to get to me. There’s a far greater pit than my empty stomach threatening to swallow me.

I pull the door open with a pained grunt.

With the door open, I float around the cabin, practically bumping against it. It takes me less than a minute to confirm my suspicion. I’ve been left here, alone.

Okay, Alexis. Clearly someone brought you here. You weren’t abandoned. They’re coming back, they’re coming back. I barely register the flash of pain as I collapse on the porch, my skin surprisingly loud as it cracks. Of all the sounds to hear. I spend long enough on the porch rocking back and forth that the sun peeks into the clearing from overhead.

But still, no one shows up.

And despite telling myself otherwise, I can’t help but have the same thought run through my mind on repeat.

I’m alone.