The fact that it made sense was the worst part.

Keris was here. Of course he was. We all should have expected it.

The cocky pyromancer walked out of the left hallway at the back of the temple through a cloud of smoke. His steps echoed lightly against the stone walls. His cackle, however, still rang through my head. Through all of our heads, I had to imagine. In this case, the shared experience didn’t make it any easier to deal with.

I twitched, my fingers tightening with each moment. Keris strolled over whatever empty space there was in the temple and over to the body of the knight. His metal-clad fingers danced with sparks. It made me sick. The only thing that made it worse was the abhorrent smirk on his face.

He was back. The realization crashed over my shoulders with a force I should’ve been ready for. I wasn’t, though. It cut me deep. And the tension in each and every one of my muscles rattled up with each step he took.

My gaze was transfixed. Stuck in place on the man who had burned me so many months ago. The man who had stolen from me—who was the reason I’d been forced to fight my own lord.

And he was back.

As hard as it was to accept, it made sense. The logical section of my brain that was still working knew it. He was important to the cult. One of the more powerful members—he had to be. The arrogant, revolting smile on his face while knights stared in horror was one that had to be earned.

Whether or not he deserved it was another question.

But no matter how much I wanted to think on it until I had all the answers in the world, time didn’t work that way. It didn’t freeze to let me walk across the room and tear the fire-crazed lunatic to shreds. The world marched on whether I liked it or not.

Keris kept walking, even as his cackle died back down. The cultists in the temple who had stopped at his entrance all went back to their vicious fighting. The knights went back to defending their lives—only this time, they were pushed on by the visceral death of one of their own.

The only knights who didn’t move were the ones in Lady Amelia’s group. Even the Lady herself stood stock-still with eyes wide on the man in dark grey robes. From across the room and through blurred eyes, my view wasn’t pristine. Still, I could’ve sworn I saw Keris flash a grin at her.

All thought on that observation, however, was sent screaming to a halt as the cultist behind me moved again.

The first hint I got was heat tickling my back. I heeled, pushing forward and spinning as quickly as I could. I stared, harsh as nails, at the pyromancer who now looked far too much like a cheap, battered imitation of the man I wanted to stab through the heart. He raised his hand and sent the red flame that was floating in the air streaming in my direction.

My eyes widened a fraction. My pulse roared in my ears. My instincts took full control.

I’d had enough, though. My body was aching and exhaustion was weighing down on me no matter what I wanted to believe. That didn’t even account for the toll soul drain was taking on me. I was tired. I didn’t even have it in me to dodge the ball of flame.

As the fiery presence in my head reminded me, though, that wasn’t an issue. From the latent, malleable air that felt hotter every moment, I grasped at energy. I tore it from its lodging and forced it to do what I wanted.

Before my heart could beat again, my blade swept through the incoming flame and my power ate away at that of the cultist. Red gave way to white until the heat had all but vanished.

My patience with the man vanished just as quickly.

“Keris…” a voice started before trailing off. It registered in my mind—Kye, I remembered. Blinking, I turned to her. “Him again…” She clenched a fist. “World’s dammit, he really—”

She didn’t get to finish her sentence as light flashed in front of my eyes. My surprised, halted legs could do nothing to stop the fire from burning through the sleeve of my companion. For a moment, my heart stopped before I heard her voice again.

“Motherfucker,” she hissed, leaping backward and wheeling around. Before I could even process the curse, an arrow had lodged itself in the man’s chest.

Kye made sure to cut his scream short.

In comparison to the assured, confident, and unnatural dexterity of the other cultists who wore their robes without armor, this man was slow. Watching him, I still caught the speed and capability in his movements, but it wasn’t enough. Kye was pissed, and her body moved like a blur.

The stream of light air that floated over didn’t bother me this time.

Like a whirlwind of blue cloth, Kye kicked the man in the gut. She was back on him before the pain could even register. Her open hand moved to his wrist and twisted while pushing it against his chest. He stumbled. She stumbled with him and kept up the pressure.

Then she looked back at me. Pure fury flashed between swirling energy in her eyes.

I didn’t even spare a smile as I moved. Noting the wince on his face and the way his other hand flailed out, my attack became clear. The edge of my sword tore through the air and slashed down the entire side of the man’s arm.

As soon as he yelled, Kye took his legs out from under him.

Gritting my teeth, I watched the man slam onto the ground and cough. He wailed and grunted in pain, but I didn’t care. Even with him writhing on the stone floor, my anger stayed.

The violent sounds ringing in my ears weren’t dampening any longer. They were rising.

Keris’ distinct, demonic cackle didn’t help in the slightest

“World’s damned asshole,” Kye said. I blinked and looked over at where her metal boot was crushing the man’s wrist. She flicked eyes down to her quiver. “Made me waste more than one arrow on his—”

Movement flickered in the corner of my vision. Kye continued, but I didn’t hear.

I twisted, letting a breath slip between my lips and preparing for my next adversary. The crackle of red flame told me what they were, but that flame didn’t even get within a pace of me. A broad-shouldered wall of metal armor stood in the way instead.

Fyn let out a laugh as he caught the woman who’d been running in my direction. Over his shoulder, I caught the shocked look on her face and the desperation flashing in her eyes while her fingers struggled around two curved knives. Watching her, she didn’t seem ready for a fight. Another that wasn’t a warrior, I guessed.

Though, now it felt a little harder to care.

Especially because Fyn’s smile didn’t fade. I had no doubt he’d be alright. There was still more to do, I reminded myself. So I turned back toward the middle of the room—toward the mass of knights, scouts, and cultists all working each other to blood and bone. On the far side, I saw Lady Amelia and her knights running. At Keris, I guessed but didn’t bother to confirm.

Two far more confident cultists danced with a knight. The tall, breathless woman dodged under one swipe of a knife only to counter another with the force of her blade. She was keeping up with them, even as the sweat dripping from her brow increased.

A flash of red light flew from one of the cultist’s hands.

She was keeping up, but I didn’t know for how long.

I moved, my body tearing through the air like it was silk as I raised my blade. Taking full advantage of the white flame’s energy, I noted their strengths and weaknesses. The deft, short-haired woman who kept the knight on her toes as well as the angry, cumbersome man who did little more than stretch my ally’s attention a little too thin.

Narrowing my eyes, I adjusted my grip and went to choose a target. The tall, plate-armored knight decided to pick for me.

Ducking below the short-haired cultist, the woman gritted her teeth and slashed at the larger man. He grunted as blood spilled over his chest, but the knight wasn’t done. Still moving, she slammed her forearm into his neck and sent him reeling backward multiple paces.

Right into me.

In an instant, I twisted, locking my blade in the air to meet the man mid-stumble. In the corner of my eye, I saw him turning, but a scream from his throat ended that focus.

His blood joined the charred splotches on the edge of my steel. I allowed myself a thin grin and stepped forward, an attack already clear in my mind. With speed, strength, and finesse that was all too rare in the body I currently possessed, I retracted my arm and whipped my sword down.

Steel collided with the hide armor covering his legs. He bent, stifling a yell and tilting as he tried to save himself.

The rest of my attack came a moment later.

In an act of magic that I barely recognized, white flame slashed through the air. It took the energy floating around me and formed it to my instincts.

I forced him to his knees while using the air itself as a hammer.

The man wailed, no longer trying to hide the pain. I stepped forward with my own determination, crushed his hand under my boot, and stabbed him through the gut so that he wouldn’t retain enough blood to stand up anytime soon.

A smile crept onto my lips despite the increasing headache.

I shook myself and turned again. I sifted through the chaotic scene in search of the man I hated most. The most powerful pyromancer in the room, I had to assume. Our top priority.

The sharp, warping wave of red flame was a pretty decent giveaway.

Keris pushed backward from his battle across the room. He retracted his arms and sneered, watching the two knights who had been on him a moment before stagger away to pat out the fire. They coughed smoke straight out of their lungs and looked barely able to stand.

That didn’t mean they were ready to give up, though. Another two members of Lady Amelia’s group surged past and charged the vile man. Even Lady Amelia herself, I realized. She was—

I noticed the motion at the corner of my eye a second too late.

Hauling myself to the side, I missed the brunt of a new ball of fire being flung my way. The edges of it still burned hot enough to sear through my uniform, though.

Skin evaporated off my body and only left a hot, horrible section of flesh that I wished I could’ve torn out myself.

Anger spiked in my mind. I clenched my jaw. The white flame smoldered its frustration. I struggled to stabilize. Pain lanced deep into my muscle and morphed into an unworldly itch. One that sat between the shifting temperatures of my flesh and stewed under my skin if only to increase the agony.

A powerful scream died in my throat as I blinked myself back to reality. I took hold of my fury by the throat and directed it toward the cultist who’d burned me. More than a dozen paces away, a blonde woman glared heinously at me while more fire spawned in her fingers. Her metal-clad fingers, I realized.

“Another one!” I called, hoping somebody would hear me. Hoping somebody would understand. “Grey robes. Metal gloves. Right over—” A grimace cut through my words before they could come out.

But fortunately, my calls had been heard. The woman glaring in my vision stopped producing her ball of flame and instead ripped out an arrow that had found its way into her shoulder. Alongside me, I could hear Kye stifling a satisfied grunt as she ran forward.

A shallow breath slipped between my lips. The tension eased in my muscles a sliver and I slumped back onto my heels. The solid stone ground felt uneven under my feet.

I cursed. The burning pain crawling over my side didn’t let up. Thoughts still swirled in my head, and I didn’t bother trying to catch any of them. It hurt, dammit. I hadn’t meant to get burned so quickly. I was supposed to keep going—to continue helping my allies. There was still more to do.

The idea of doing any of it hurt me. Even draped in anger, it seemed hard for my agonizing muscles. Too difficult to consider.

But we had a responsibility. We’d already lost too many; I couldn’t afford to be out of the fight.

Briefly, the blurred visage of my old body rose up. It brought with it the doubts I’d carried for months and the shriveled ideas of how useless I was. Of how much my new, incapable body was a curse that the beast had saddled me with. I’d improved it—or so I thought.

It wasn’t enough.

No—the white flame said.

I blinked, processing its existence and straightening up. Horrifying violence filled my ears with noise and my nostrils with smoke as moments bled on. Narrowing my eyes, I implored the flame.

Heal—it said.

My eyes shot down to the flashing red burn on my side. They widened a moment later as its meaning became more obvious. And before I knew what was happening, the air was once again shaping to my will.

Except this time, instead of forming into fire that would lash out with savage intent, I moved it into my own muscles. I let the white flame guide my will, let it use my soul. I allowed it to help my body rebuild.

A familiar warm sensation spread over my side as my headache increased. The extra dull pain was a small price to pay for the relief of so much. In short time, the pain faded and the itch followed. My skin smoothed over with barely any scarring to show.

I heaved a breath as my body straightened. The weight of my sword dragged my hand to the ground as a familiar weight. I cherished it. Scrunching my face and narrowing my eyes, I stepped back to join the fight around me.

To my side, the tall knight who’d shoved a brute on me smiled. She stood over the short-haired cultist and stabbed her through the neck. I didn’t even watch for the blood; instead, a small smile sprouted across my lips.

Turning my attention forward again, I searched for the woman Kye had run to engage with. She wasn’t where I’d last seen her—and through the chaos, I couldn’t find my companion either. The absence of her familiar smirk and chestnut hair forced my heart pounding faster than I wanted.

The mystery, however, was solved rather quickly.

“Nuisances,” a voice said from across the room. The fact that I recognized it as Keris made me want to spit out my tongue. But I flicked my eyes over to the man anyway.

He stumbled back, barely throwing the sword of one knight away from slicing his face. His eyes tightening, I could almost see the gears turning in his head. Instead of stepping to retaliate with fire, he twisted.

“New order,” he said, his voice slithering through the air like a dissonant snake. “All kilnsiri must retreat.” I winced in mental pain at the unfamiliar and terrifying word. Keris’ smirk radiated through the room. “Allow a dara to solve these issues for us...”

More pain translated with the syllables of his voice. I shook it away and stored the terms with the rest of the ones Anath had mentioned weeks back. Ones that I could barely recall more than the terror they’d caused.

But while most of the knights and mundane cultists in the room had the same reaction to the terms as I did, some moved. Some responded as if they had actual meaning and retreated to where Keris stood at the back of the temple.

None of them wore armor, I noticed. Not other than metal gauntlets covered in char.

A more familiar form took my attention as the woman who’d given me a burn across my side backpedaled rapidly. Her smile was gone and her face had paled, but the crazed look stayed fixed in her eyes.

I didn’t get time to stew on it, though. The effect of Keris’ order was wearing off quickly throughout the room, and the fighting was starting anew. Beside me, the tall knight was rushing back off toward the main group. She even passed En, who was clutching his hip as he parried strike after strike.

Looking past them, the sights were even more horrible. Where I stood near the outskirts of the temple, the bloodshed and the burning were considerable. But it was puny compared to the horror some of my allies endured. Two or three cultists were nothing when faced with more than half a dozen—especially ones that weren’t shy at all with their fire.

I swore, shaking my head and starting to run forward. Not even the sound of Kye’s voice behind me stopped my advance. It slowed my steps, sure, but that was only to make sure she was alright. Which, from the annoyed curses streaming out of her mouth, appeared to be the case.

We had a responsibility, though. All of us—as a group and as individuals. I had a responsibility to win as much as any of the knights did. A responsibility to protect those that would protect me. Those that were risking their lives.

Discipline scratched at the innermost chambers of my soul. It brought along with it the camaraderie and brotherhood that I’d forced myself never to forget.

A conveniently-placed cultist let me take out my anger a little more.

I ran straight on and then stepped to the side. The cultist adjusted, turning with me, but he’d calculated wrong. His arm shot out wide and sliced the air instead of my skin. I would make sure that the mistaken hand didn’t have an opportunity to mess up again.

Before I execute, an arrow slammed into the man’s forehead.

His eyes widened and his lips twitched. Fire danced from his fingertips, but it dwindled and crackled away. He teetered for only a moment before collapsing onto the stone and forcing me to move my foot out of the way.

My eyebrows dropped. Despite my surroundings, I found a way to be frustrated. Glaring, my gaze fell upon the beautiful, soot-covered huntress running toward me. The thin smirk she flashed was only missing a sliver of the life it normally had.

“Way to steal it,” I muttered, trying to let the sarcasm lighten my mood. It didn’t work. Neither of us minded the attempt, though.

Kye approached, breathless. She flicked her eyes to meet mine only once before scanning the room. The energy in her eyes spun at a rate I’d never seen. But for all it was worth, Kye didn’t do much to let on about the strain.

“Won’t be doing much more of that,” she finally said. Her shoulders shook as she took a shaky breath and angled her head away from the burns on her arm. Instead, she looked down at her quiver. “Almost out… Two more is not enough for this environment. I stocked up in Ord, but—”

The rest of her sentence registered in my ear, but I didn’t translate the words. Movement in the corner of my eye stopped me. My instincts took over and spun me around with my sword raised.

A cultist charged. A shaggy man who looked more excited than he did prepared.

The anger I directed toward him felt unparalleled in the moment. Kye faded from my peripheral vision, robbing me of the sight as I pushed toward him. I’d been listening to her, dammit. I’d been able to hear her lovely, familiar voice. Then he had come to interrupt.

The swipe he took with his dagger was useless. I ducked it and came up under him to force steel through his chest. I ripped it out before he could even yell. My foot slammed into the side of his knee and I threw his flailing form sideways by the time he’d started to react.

I was tired of dealing with them.

Turning, I didn’t even listen for his last screams. I just looked back at my companion and felt my soul lighten at the dry smile breaching her lips. Only the bright red fire behind her got some of the heaviness to return.

At once, the events of the past minute crashed down on me. Blinking, I remembered Keris’ call, even if I couldn’t recall some of the words. He’d given a new order. He’d called some of the cultists to retreat—the important ones with metal gloves.

“Kye,” I said and pushed air through my teeth. Angling my head, I watched the patterns of fire growing in the hands of the elite cultists on the other side of the room.

The huntress spun, glaring at me. “What? I’m low on arrows, and I don’t—”

“There,” I said and cocked my head forward. “Keris called the unarmored cultists back for… something. They’re—”

“Preparing something,” Kye completed. I nodded as her face contorted and she reached for the dagger she kept sheathed on her waist. “What do you think it is?”

“I…” Eyelids flitted uselessly. “I don’t know. But it won’t be good for us, I’d imagine.”

“Yeah,” she said. “No shit.”

Then the huntress stepped forward and twirled the dagger. She turned left and right, noting the positions of whatever danger was immediately near us, and started toward where Keris was still fighting on the other side of the room.

“Kye!” I called, blinking and forcing myself to move. Even the loud sound of my own voice picked at my aching head.

“What is it now?” she hissed.

“What do you think you’re doing?” I hissed right back without even hiding the concern in my tone. I tried not to glare at the cuts and scrapes on her hands or the burn she already had across the arm.

Keris was preparing something, but we didn’t know what it was. There was no reason to end up dead before we even got a better idea.

“I’m—” Kye started but bit her words off. Her face scrunched as she looked back over toward Lady Amelia. “I don’t know, but I’m going to do something.”

My eyes widened as she went to move again. Without thinking, I grabbed her wrist. “Something like what?”

She twisted and glowered, tearing away from my grip. She stopped, though, and that was good enough for me. Even if we’d marched into the temple willingly, there was no way I was letting her fall to the beast like this.

“I don’t know,” she said, her voice softening. Her doubt was punctuated by a scream of pain from the fighting groups alongside us. “I can’t just let—”

“Watch,” I found myself saying as my eyes moved past her. They studied the way Keris ducked attack after attack while pushing the knights back inch by inch. “At least… watch first.”

Furrowing her brow, Kye nodded. She turned around.

But as a hammer came down on Keris, my advice turned out to be useful. The knight who’d struck him—Rik, I remembered from months back—pushed tremors through his very bones. Just like last time, though, Keris was strong enough to endure.

When he did so this time, however, he didn’t run back into the fray. He didn’t move to push back his enemies any farther. Instead, he flicked his eyes over the half dozen gauntlet-clad cultists and forced a smirk on his face.

Red fire sparked from his fingers seemingly without effort. It swirled among metal fingertips and formed into twisting, elegant patterns. Patterns that mirrored the fiery shapes that the cultists he’d called back had been making the entire time.

My fingers relaxed on the hilt of my blade. Dread set in over my mind—and it seemed I wasn’t the only one. Once again, fighting started to die off as more people looked forward. More of the room became simply… entranced by what Keris was doing.

Blood started trickling from the arrogant pyromancer’s nose, but he didn’t mind. He just kept pouring energy into whatever he was preparing to do.

The white flame burned hot in my head, pushing back on soul drain for a moment as though trying to clear my mind for the better. But I could only stare at the ritual as it started.

I blinked.

Ritual?

At once, I felt my pounding pulse again. I felt the thoughts in my head—ones both from me and that had origin in the back of my mind. I treated all of them equally and sifted between them to try and decipher what Keris was trying to do.

One idea stood out. By the time I figured it out, it was already too late.

A form of incomprehensible terror shaped out of the flames.

Then it burned out.

All the cultists that Keris had called back slumped. At the same time, immense soul drain set in and they crumpled to the floor.

Keris, however, was different. The color in his eyes deepened into that which could only be described as an undying flame. It flared, burning hotter and hotter as his cackling picked back up.

I froze, blood roaring in my ears. The idea of a ritual stuck out, but it was useless by now. I tried to work through it mentally, to figure out what the ritual had been for.

But that was useless, too.

It didn’t matter what they’d been working to summon. For it had already arrived.