Najeem woke up feeling awful.

 

The mattress under him was lumpy and stiff. And his bones ached as though they were overly stuffed with marrow. His mind was as fuzzy as his vision and his limbs screamed with pain as he tried to push himself up.

 

He fell back, soaked in sweat and staring at the yellowed ceiling of whatever chamber he’d been dragged to.

 

He smelled the air and listened closely to his surroundings.

 

He was in an unfamiliar place. The noise of shouting and bartering told him he was near a marketplace. The scent of fish meant he was in a port city of some kind.

 

He heard faint bits of music come through the floor, accompanied by...laughter. When Najeem really tried, he could smell the bitter scent of wine. Alcohol was prohibited by Qahtan’s state religion, but ports could always get away with things other places couldn’t.

 

Najeem was in a tavern.

 

“Najeem?” a soft voice came from the end of the room closer to the foot of Najeem’s bed. “You’re awake.”

 

Najeem tilted his head up and saw her. Princess Shahla, wrapped in the dress of a common woman.

 

“P-Princess?” the Asasiyun groaned. “Where are we? What happened?”

 

“You got shot by those crossbowmen!” Shahla hissed. She wore a scarf that covered her face just enough to hide the evidence of her Plague Scars. Najeem remembered she’d gotten those.

 

“Crossbowmen? I didn’t even know Ali employed crossbowmen.”

 

“That’s your reaction?” Shahla asked.

 

“How long was I out?”

 

“You lost a lot of blood. You’ve been asleep for nearly a week.”

 

“A week?” Najeem exclaimed.

 

“It’s alright, though,” Shahla promised. “I managed to join a merchant caravan. They’d been picking up refugees and escorting them for a small fee to Marizz. Which is...here. I plan to get us a ferry through the canal into the Mesogeonian, then to Koinelia.”

 

“Hold on, princess. What’s the end goal with all this? Why go all the way to Koinelia? We should go to the Al-Kubra and your tribe,” Najeem asked.

 

“Prince Ahmed is personal friends with a Senator there. Florentius, I think his name is,” Shahla said. “He’ll lend us the power we need to rescue the Prince.”

 

“But why are we going south? Has Ali captured the whole of the north?”

 

Shahla nodded. “I feel it may be too risky to even try the canal. In that case, we will have to go through Nikan to go West. But, outside of Qahtan, no one important knows our faces.”

 

Najeem sighed. That trip into Nikan would also add almost a year to their journey, depending on where they landed. “This entire experience has been a humiliation of me as an Asasiyun. I apologize, my lady. If you wish to punish me or let me go, I understand.”

 

“Oh, please. You have nothing to apologize for. You did everything you could,” Shahla said. “Also, I won’t be able to make it out there without you.”

 

“Now that I think about it, how did you escape, Lady Shahla?”

 

“I...I’m not sure myself. I used some kind of power or magic connected to the moon. I have tried to do the same thing other nights, but I haven’t been able to. Perhaps because it wasn’t a full moon…” Shahla muttered.

 

“You have Plague Scars, but you don’t seem sick to me, Princess," Najeem mentioned.

 

Shahla shrugged, “I haven’t felt the least bit off aside from the pain I felt that night.”

 

“What do you make of this, my lady?” Najeem asked. He studied magic during his years training to become an Asasiyun so he could counter it in combat. But he’d never heard of any sort of lunar magic before, as there was no such thing as a lunar Shedim.

 

Shahla shook her head, “I’m not quite sure, as I’ve never seen...anything resembling this. And you’ll have to stop calling me ‘my lady’ or ‘princess’ eventually. I don’t want anyone knowing I might be someone of influence.”

 

Najeem nodded, “Yes, my...er...what should I call you, then?”

 

“Just Shahla is fine.”

 

“As you wish, Shahla…”

 

It felt...improper. Formality and professionalism was a requirement to be an Asasiyun. Especially to one’s monarch.

 

“Still too formal, but we can work on it," Shahla shrugged.

 

“I must say, my l-er, Shahla, I am genuinely impressed you made it this far on your own and lugged me around as dead weight," Najeem chuckled.

 

“That almost sounded like an insult. But thank you," Shahla smiled.

 

Najeem took a deep breath and pushed himself up again, fighting through the pain of his wounds. He looked down at his bare chest and saw that they were actually bandaged and well treated. “Did you have a doctor come in and see me?”

 

“I actually handled your injuries myself," Shahla grinned, a hint of pride on her lips. “How do they feel?”

 

“For three bolt wounds, not bad," Najeem said. “Do you have my armor still?”

 

“Oh, yes!” Shahla ran over to a table in their room and grabbed his brigandine vest and bracers.

 

Najeem took one of the bracers and reached into a hidden pocket sewn within the underside, producing a small metal badge shaped like the head of a falcon. “You said something about getting a ferry through the canal, yes?”

 

Shahla nodded, “Though, the canal does run right through what is currently Ali’s territory. I’ve heard tell that they’re getting ruthless with their checks at the border.”

 

“Well, whether or not we take the canal, the Asasiyun still have some influence here. I suspect my badge will come in handy," Najeem said. “If we don’t want to take the canal, we could go to Jambudvipa.”

 

“I think they’ve fallen off as a trade destination since the war,” Shahla scratched the back of her head. “It may be difficult to find a willing ship.”

 

“But it’s better to have to travel a few additional months rather than an additional year," Najeem said.

 

Shahla nodded, “That is true.”

 

Najeem forced himself up and out of his bed, stumbling for a second, but catching himself before he fell.

 

“Are you sure you’re well enough to walk?” Shahla asked.

 

“I’d rather suffer some aches while we still have time rather than have Ali breathing down our necks," Najeem said, grabbing his white shirt from the room’s desk and tying his armor on. He opted to simply enshroud his face like a hood with his turban rather than tying it. “Come. Let’s hire a boat.”

 

“With what money?” Shahla asked. “I sold off all my jewelry already.”

 

“I don’t need money. The implicit threat of steel that comes with this badge will be enough," Najeem said.

______________________________________________________________________

 

Marizz, being closer to the sea, was far more naturally wet than the typical Qahtanad town. While they used common Water Shedim to wet their crops and such, the already present rainfall allowed the city to be populated by palm trees and other various flora. The combination of verdant colors with Qahtanad stonework was a beauty to behold. If they weren’t in a hurry to get to Koinelia, Najeem would have wanted to stay here for a while.

 

He loved the charm of coastal towns and was dead set on living out his last years in one.

 

That is, if he ever grew old enough.

 

The city streets were far more packed than other settlements, thanks to the sense of security the city’s governors had provided. People shopped in the Souq as though there wasn’t a plague spreading around.

 

Life carried on as usual. Merchants from all over the east sold their goods in makeshift stalls all up and down the dirt roads.

 

But he could see that Shahla was disturbed.

 

“I agree with your sense of caution, Shahla," Najeem muttered just loud enough for her to hear. He could see many guard patrols around. More than were needed. Likely to stop anyone with Plague from spreading it. “Perhaps we should leave today, now that I’m up. Not as though we have much in the way of belongings.”

 

The two of them made their way through the marketplace, which drew Shahla’s attention.

 

“Should we get supplies?” she asked.

 

“I can’t go around flashing this badge to every lowly merchant," Najeem asked. “If we need food, I’ll steal some for us.”

 

Shahla looked about ready to protest his willingness to steal before seemingly recognizing her hypocrisy in doing so.

 

The harbor of Marizz was a small sliver of docking in comparison to the city at large, that contrasted the city’s skyline with unvaried flatness. Fishing boats and merchant vessels occupied most of the docks, with more coming and leaving constantly.

 

A dock house made of stone sat on the edge of the harbor.

 

Najeem and Shahla entered the building through the arched doorway, met with a man reading a small pocket book.

 

A short exchange with Najeem got the man to run through his ledgers for a Jambudvipi ship. Fortunately, there was one on dock thirteen.

 

They counted the docks until they reached thirteen. The boat docked there was a long, narrow wooden ship with three masts and Jambudvipi roofing over the deck to shield it from the sun.

 

“This is perfect," Shahla said.

 

“Can I help you two?” a voice speaking heavily accented Qahtanad asked.

 

Najeem whirled around, nearly tripping. The man behind them was a head taller than anyone Najeem had seen before. He had a skin tone very much similar to Qahtanads, but his eyes were narrower. He wore simple linens and pointed shoes.

 

“Hello, sir," Shahla said cheerfully. “We were wondering if you would be so kind as to allow us onto your boat as you sail back to Jambudvipa.”

 

“Two pounds of gold and silver," the man growled.

 

Shahla looked at Najeem, a plea for help in her eyes.

 

The Asasiyun sighed and drew his emblem. “We’re on official business of the Order of Asasiyun. I suggest you waive that fee.”

 

The man scoffed, “Or what, you’ll kill me? If they confiscate my boat for bringing two stowaways, I might as well be dead. I have a family to feed, you know.”

 

“O-of course!” Shahla shoved Najeem’s arm down. “We’re sorry. We’ll get you the gold, just-”

 

“Trust me. It’s not worth it.”

 

Najeem glanced to the right, finding a figure leaning against the stairs that led down to the harbor.

 

It was a woman with very dark skin, big brown eyes and silky black hair. She wore a bright orange mantle over a black tunic, a style common from northern Jambudvipa. Her crossed arms and tilted chin gave an air of aloofness, but certainty in any of its forms seemed like an attractive quality to Najeem right now.

 

“Piss off, Shakti!” the man bellowed.

 

“He pays the dock house extra to send travelers over to his boat and makes them pay way too much to sail with him," Shakti said, ignoring the man.

 

The man gritted his teeth, “Why, you…”

 

“Come with me if you two wanna find a fair price,” she beckoned to them.

 

“I’ll let you pay just a pound!” the man said.

 

Najeem looked to Shahla, “I say we go with her.”

 

Shahla nodded. They followed Shakti as she started up the steps.

 

“Half a pound!” the man’s voice echoed behind them.

 

Shakti led the two back into the town and towards the bustling Souq, through the slow-moving crowd and into a doorway on the left.

 

Inside, was a lounge, fogged up by smoked hashish and formatted like a claustrophobic labyrinth of wooden screens and bright colored pillows. People of all nationalities laid on the pillows or in small private nooks, enjoying beer and Qahtanad prostitutes.

 

Najeem frowned. He didn’t like the look of this place. The sheer degeneracy might cause him to be damned just by being near them.

 

They were led up the stairs to a floor of private rooms, completely closed off from the rest of the building.

 

Then one of the doors slammed open. A furious, nude Qahtanad woman stomped out, covering herself with a sheet.

 

“I don’t know what kind of back alley hellhole you come from, but that is not okay here!” she screeched before rushing past them.

 

“Gods damnit," Shakti sighed.

 

“What do you mean it doesn’t happen here? It happens everywhere!” A rather plump man with light brown skin and a head of long, curly black hair stepped out of the door frame, dressed in nothing but a loincloth.

 

“Vai, what the hell?” Shakti hissed.

 

“What?” the man asked. “Sodomy happens everywhere whether they want it to or not.”

 

Shahla let out a small gasp. Najeem wanted to laugh at this man’s matter-of-factness.

 

“Vai!” Shakti gritted her teeth. “Can you not see the two Qahtanads right next to me?”

 

“Oh! Uh, sorry. But I mean...it does," Vai shrugged. “Why’d you bring them?”

 

“They need a ferry," Shakti said. “And I want something from that one," she pointed at Najeem, “I saw that badge in your hand, Asasiyun.”

 

Najeem’s finger rested on a hidden dagger in his vest.

 

“Shakti, you can’t just keep going around asking all the interesting people you see if they want a boat ride. The last one you brought tried to mug us and the time before that, I almost lost Hokule’a to arsonists!”

 

“Oh come on, do these two look like criminals to you?” Shakti asked.

 

“I guarantee you that the Asasiyun has fifty more blades on him than what you can see. Criminal isn’t the point. Danger to me and my boat is.”

 

“Excuse me, but who are you two exactly?” Najeem asked. “As in, what do you do or where are you from?”

 

Shakti sighed. “I’m an artist. He’s an asshole.”

 

“I’m not an asshole. Not all the time," Vai said bitterly. He put on an enthusiastic smile for Najeem. “How are you? I’m Vai, an Aotearoan navigator.”

 

“Aotearoan?” Shahla asked.

 

“They’re an island people who managed to sail the Eastern Sea and populate all its islands before anyone else knew they existed," Najeem explained. “They can navigate the sea without a compass, I hear.”

 

“That’s right," Vai grinned pridefully. “And I’m the best navigator of them all. I sailed here all the way from Moatihe’a.”

 

“Is that far?” Shahla asked.

 

“Further than you could imagine, sweetie.”

 

Shahla frowned at Vai.

 

“Vai knows his stuff," Shakti said. “And he’ll take you for free.”

 

“He will?” Najeem raised his eyebrows.

 

“I will?” Vai frowned.

 

“Yes, because you owe me for the incident in Lehia," Shakti said firmly.

 

“Fine, fine," Vai rolled his eyes.“But I have things to do aside from ferrying people.”

 

“You? You have things to do?” Shakti raised an eyebrow.

 

Vai did not look amused. “I have to stop by one of the islands at least once within these next two weeks. Aotearoa is in the middle of an important festival and if I miss it, the gods will capsize my boat.”

 

“Aotearoa is always having an important festival," Shakti sighed. “Can’t you just make this run first? It’s just a quick trip over to Jambudvipa.”

 

“No," Vai said firmly.

 

“Quick trip?” Najeem asked. “The gulf takes weeks to sail.”

 

“That’s quick in naval time, unfortunately," Vai said.

 

“We can afford a small stop, can’t we?” Shahla asked.

 

Najeem sighed, “I mean...I guess a week or two isn’t really going to matter that much in the long run. Whatever. Fine with me. Though I do have to ask. You claimed you would take us free of charge and I chose to pass over the comment when you claimed to want something of me. What else do you want, then?”

 

“Oh, uh...well, it’s a bit complex-”

 

“We can digest it," Najeem said.

 

“Alright, well you’re an Asasiyun. I thought maybe you could do me a favor in exchange?” Shakti made her request into an uncertain question.

 

Najeem sighed, “Who do you want dead?”

 

“No one!” Shakti quickly replied. “I just need you to check on someone when we get to Jambudvipa. She’s really good at keeping trespassers out.”

 

“Najeem, your injuries…” Shahla said.

 

“It’s fine, m-Shahla. I’ll be better by the time we get there," Najeem assured her. “I can handle some basic reconnaissance.”

 

“You sure?”

 

Najeem nodded.

 

“Then we accept your offer," Shahla turned to Shakti and Vai.

 

“Good. We leave at sun up tomorrow," Vai said. “Now, if you all don’t mind, I’m going to find another whore who doesn’t delude herself into being a prude at the same time.”

 

“Gross, Vai," Shakti muttered.

 

If nothing else, Najeem mused to himself, these two would make for some decent entertainment during their journey.

__________________________________________________________________

 

It took less than a week to build the longship. That had to be some kind of record.

 

Bjorn had tirelessly cut planks from the wood and riveted them together with some scavenged supplies. He built the whole boat from the keel up more or less on his own, with marginal help from the others.

 

Peng was allowed out of his bonds, but Ruhak and Taya always kept a close eye on him.

 

Bjorn tossed the finished oars into the boat. They would only have four rowers, but that would have to do. He didn’t like relying on wind power, but he didn’t have much choice.

 

All the supplies they intended to take with them were already in the boat. All he needed now was-

 

A powerful gust of wind blew against Bjorn’s back. Then another.

 

“We have wind!” Bjorn shouted. “Get in the boat!”

 

Ruhak, Taya, Cecile and Peng ran from their campsite. Bjorn joined Cecile, Ruhak and Peng in jumping into the boat as Taya used her magical strength to shove the boat off its stand and into the sea.

 

She joined them on the deck as Bjorn hurriedly let down the sail. Wind caught in the cloth like a tackle into a shield and powered the ship forward. Bjorn sighed in relief as the island grew smaller and smaller.

 

Ruhak unloaded an unrestrained whoop of excitement, which Taya was quick to join in on.

 

“Where are we headed?” Cecile asked.

 

Bjorn looked up at the sky, “North. To south Sklava.”

 

“Home!” Taya exclaimed. “Finally! My mother is probably worried sick.”

 

“Aren’t you at all concerned about the Nikan? You said they were fighting with your people," Bjorn said.

 

Taya scoffed, “No need, Stormtamer. Sklava never even fell to Koinelia. Nikan is like a minor annoyance compared to them. Their emperor is only... thirty or some years old.”

 

Bjorn felt a pang in his side as Taya used his title. He didn’t want it anymore.

 

“Thirty? No he has to be at least forty," Ruhak asked. “Doesn’t he have something like twenty children?”

 

“What does it matter?” Cecile asked. “Thirty or forty, the Emperor’s children are some of the scariest Bane Knights in the world.”

 

Bjorn frowned, recalling stories about the raids his village’s men went on to Sarfait. Bane Knights were warriors who put common Shedim into specially made weapons, giving them access to supernatural powers. The Ascomanni could only match them with raving mad berserkirs and exceptionally skilled drengr.

 

“Rumors going around the army actually say the royals Banebend Elder Shedim," Peng said.

 

Taya frowned. “That’s absurd. Elder Shedim are far too powerful to be Banebended.”

 

“Just a rumor," Peng shrugged. “I’m sure it’s just the empire trying to make itself look good in front of its people. Though I can confirm that Nikan has been training a far greater quantity of Bane Knights. I think they just hit two thousand.”

 

“Two thousand?” Ruhak exclaimed. He cupped his chin. “With that many, you’d think they’d have already taken over the world. I’ve always wanted to try wielding a Baneblade.”

 

“Maybe you’ll manifest a Shedim and have one of your own," Bjorn mused.

 

“Wouldn’t that be great?” Ruhak shrugged. “But...I’d hesitate. I’m not too keen on going into any wars right now.”

 

“Don’t worry yourself, Ruhak. Wars are for the Wojewodas," Taya shrugged. “Too dense, full of tactics and opaque strategies. Duels are more my style.”

 

“A warrior without tact is no more than a wolf with an axe in his mouth," Bjorn said. “Every little motion on the battlefield relies on tactics, down to the individual warrior. But I guess it’s different when you rely on special powers to make you invincible.”

 

Taya scoffed, “You come up with that line yourself?”

 

“I’m no Skald, but I dabble in the arts," Bjorn grinned.

 

It was then Bjorn caught sight of a small dot in the distance. He narrowed his eyes. It was a Nikan junk. Just the one.

 

“Uh...Do you think someone from the empire didn’t get the news about attacking the island?” Bjorn asked.

 

“What do you mean?” Taya asked.

 

Bjorn pointed straight ahead. Taya shadowed her eyes with her hand as she peered out. The others followed Bjorn’s finger to the vessel.

 

“Yeah...that is weird," Taya muttered.

 

As they drew closer, Peng joined them in looking at the junk.

 

“Oh shit.”

 

“Oh shit?” Taya asked. “Why ‘oh shit’?”

 

“That’s the banner of the 17th Prince, Gongsun Guanyu. Also known as the Hunter," Peng said. “The only reason for him to be out here is to hunt someone like you.”

 

Bjorn ran to the back of the longship and pushed the steerboard. The boat started to turn outwards, giving the junk plenty of personal space.

 

“What are you doing?” Taya asked.

 

“Sailing around the prince," Bjorn said. “We’re fast enough to do it.”

 

“Turn this ship straight towards them," Taya ordered.

 

“What?” Ruhak asked. “Are you crazy?”

 

“If we just leave them be, they won’t stop chasing us until we lead them all the way to my village. I’m not letting them touch my home," Taya said. “Now turn the boat around.”

 

“How are we going to fight them? You’re the only one with powers. Who knows how many people are on that ship? We’ll be overwhelmed!” Bjorn argued.

 

“We’ll make it out!” Taya said.

 

Bjorn’s eyes were drawn away from Taya and to the cloud of arrows that soared through the air towards them.

 

“Sail! Get the sail down!” Bjorn screamed. He grabbed his shield, pulled his helmet down and covered himself and Ruhak as he brought the sail down. The arrows pelted them, sinking into Bjorn’s shield and glancing off his armor. Arrows simply shattered upon contact with Taya’s skin.

 

Cecile and Peng ducked behind the hull, the wood protecting them.

 

“Too late to run, Bjorn," Taya said.

 

Bjorn cursed in his native language as the junk drew up right beside their longship, lamellar-clad soldiers ready to board.

 

Taya boarded them first.

 

“I’m gonna go help her," Bjorn said, breaking the arrow shafts off his shield. “You three be ready to leave once we...well whatever Taya plans to do.”

 

The Ascomanni pulled himself up onto the Nikan junk’s deck and didn’t hesitate to sink a throwing axe into a poor fellow’s neck.

 

Taya had cleared most of the archers, either throwing them overboard in a wide arc of her sword or just dismembering them into human fillets.

 

Bjorn began to advance on the few spearmen on the deck, but stopped when their attention was directed towards the back of the ship. He followed their gaze to the deck above the cabin.

 

“So, you’re the one the fleet was talking about, huh?” A man clad in shining lamellar armor and a decorated helmet stood on the upper deck, looking down on them alongside a young woman in similar form-fitting armor. “The one they were actually supposed to kill.”

 

“I hear you’re called the Hunter,” Taya said. “Because you apparently kill people like us for fun. But tell me, have you ever faced a Shedim Master who was little more than a whelp?”

 

“I’ve killed those of your wretched kind who could control time itself. Do not take me lightly, girl," the prince growled.

 

“Not the question I asked, Gongsun," Taya said before launching herself off the deck towards him. Their clash erupted in a blast of green and violet light.

 

“Ascomanni.”

 

Bjorn looked to the right as the woman nimbly leapt down to the lower deck. She drew a long and thin one-handed sword from her hip.

 

“Are you like her?” the woman asked. “A Shedim Master?”

 

“Who knows?” Bjorn muttered. “Who’s asking?”

 

“Just a poor fellow soldier," the woman flourished her blade. “I am Gongsun Yahui, 3rd imperial princess. What is it you call yourself.”

 

“Bjorn Olafsson," Bjorn said, slowly starting to circle her. Despite being armed for battle, the princess didn’t look as though she would make any kind of aggressive movement, which was arguably more disconcerting to Bjorn than if she’d attacked him outright.

 

“Bjorn, Son of Olaf. It is rare that I would get to meet someone from lands as far off as your own. Now tell me...may I have this dance with you? I am eager to see the skill of a mighty Ascomanni warrior.”

 

“Not like I have much of a choice," Bjorn raised his shield.

 

Yahui attacked with the quickness of a lightning bolt. There it was.

 

Bjorn knocked her arm away with his shield and swung at her with his axe. The blade sparked off her armor, but she was stunned nonetheless. She clearly thought there was enough of a gap in their agility to exploit speed.

 

Just because I’m big doesn’t mean I’m slow, princess.

 

Yahui found her resolve again and rushed in, attempting to use his size against him. She’d get in too close for him to effectively maneuver.

 

Bjorn put his shield between her and that coveted position.

 

She kicked off his shield, flipping into the air and landing behind him in that same worrisome proximity. Bjorn twisted himself around and kicked himself back in time to parry an underhanded thrust of her blade. The blade circled back around into an overhead strike.

 

Bjorn’s axe head sparked off the sword as he knocked it aside again, before shoving his foot into her gut.

 

The woman slid back, but didn’t fall over. She met his eyes with an excited glare.

 

Bjorn’s mind was racing, but it was methodical in a way. His mind entered a state of hyper focus, like it always did in combat. He’d trained himself to channel his adrenaline into rapid thought rather than panic. Doing so made the world, save for himself and his opponent seem to slow down by the slightest bit.

 

She swung her blade from the side. Bjorn allowed the metal to sink into the side of his shield. He tried to rip the sword away from her, but she jumped with his flailing arm, almost as though she were flying to keep hold of her weapon.

 

Before Bjorn realized it, the woman hopped onto his shield and leapt back, pulling her weapon out and shoving him back with her feet. She landed and quickly dove in for another attack as Bjorn was stumbling.

 

The thrusting sword barely missed the tip of his nose. Bjorn hooked the blade in his axe’s beard, throwing her to the ground and using the momentum to get himself back on his feet.

 

The woman pressed her palm to the deck and launched herself back into a sturdy stance.

 

They stared at each other, both taking labored breaths.

 

Bjorn hadn’t expected a princess to be this ferocious. The princess was equally surprised by Bjorn’s refined fighting style.

 

The two of them clashed again, one never letting the other get too much of an upperhand before the encounter was over and they separated to rest.

 

During one of their rests, the prince landed next to them and struggled to push the shaft of his glaive against Taya’s claymore. He shouted something in Nikan before leaping away.

 

Yahui sighed, “Little brothers. Always ruining the fun.”

 

Yahui cast her blade aside, causing Bjorn to frown. Rather than dropping his guard, he lifted his shield.

 

Her eyes glowed bright orange like a burning fire. Metal blades the size of daggers materialized attached to her fingers from nothing, glowing red with heat.

 

Bjorn swore he saw the outline of a collection of fox tails behind her, made from red-orange light.

 

Yahui huffed, “Forgive me, but think I’m going to tip the odds a little.”

 

Yahui vanished and reappeared in front of Bjorn almost instantly before slamming her foot into his chest. He went flying, crashing into the upper cabin of the junk.

 

Bjorn groaned.

 

Taya slid to a stop next to him, “You will die like that, Ascommani! Get up and fight! Your Shedim! Call it to you!”

 

Bjorn stared, dumbfounded partially in pain and partially in confusion as Taya re-engaged with the prince. Was it some kind of on-demand thing? Didn’t much feel like it. In fact, there was no evidence at all for its existence, except for the black marks on his arm.

 

But maybe it was worth a try. She sounded like she would bet her life on him having access to her power. And Bjorn was quickly reminded about how deadly that newfound speed of the princess’s was as she closed the distance between them in an instant.

 

Bjorn threw himself out of the way as Yahui nearly crushed his skull with her knee. He needed to match her power. Whatever Taya believed he could do, he needed it right now.

 

Bjorn held both his arms up in a guard as Yahui’s leg smashed into his shield, snapping it in half. The Ascommani tumbled to the ground, but got to his feet quickly.

 

Come on! He didn’t know what to do except yell at himself in his mind.

 

He ducked out of the path of Yahui’s dagger-like claws. He could feel the immense heat on his skin as they passed over his face.

 

She unleashed a flurry of attacks.

 

By some luck of the Weavers, Bjorn escaped with nothing but some singes on his clothing, but only to be met by another spinning kick from the princess. The deck seemed to crumple beneath him as he was smashed into the wood.

 

She leapt up, determined to pummel him through the deck with a final blow, but when Bjorn instinctively held out his arms to protect himself, a flash of light filled his vision and an explosion deafened him.

 

The thump on the deck was the first sign he had to the fact that Yahui had been knocked prone. Ears ringing and vision blurring, he staggered to his feet.

 

His Plague Scars were alight with bright azure energy, while his hand crackled with lightning.

 

He could feel power flowing through his veins, like icy blood running through his body.

 

Yahui dragged herself to her feet and wiped a bit of blood from the corner of her lips. A large smoldering mark was left in her chest, her armor destroyed as though...well...had lightning struck it? But the blast had merely blackened her skin with soot. No evidence of injury was on her. What the hell kind of power did she wield?

 

Yahui chuckled, “Impressive. I sense a great deal of power coming from you. Too bad you’ll never have the chance to learn it.”

 

The junk shook, distracting both of them from their opponent as Taya’s battle with the prince had carved a giant hole into the middle of their boat.

 

“Gods damnit,” Yahui hissed.

 

“Too bad our battlefield is about to sink,” Bjorn forced a smirk. “Next time, then.”

 

Bjorn leapt off the deck and landed in the nearby longship, followed by Taya.

 

“Let’s move before they decide to hitch a ride!” Bjorn shouted.

 

Using their oars, the escapees pushed off the sinking junk and rowed away until they could pull the sail up once more.

 

Bjorn couldn’t take his eyes off the sinking junk until the wind carried them far enough to lose sight of the Nikan rowboats.

 

Still, Bjorn’s neck remained craned, his eyes focused on nothing in particular but a dreadful implication.

 

The Nikan empire was hunting them. Bjorn didn’t much care why, but...would they trek all the way up to Ascomarch to find him? Even if he found another place to stay, would they find him? If they did, this power coursing through his veins acted as the perfect way to keep Bjorn from returning home.