Five people were present in the chief’s office beside Akunai; Three lieutenants of the Dawn Wardens and two scantily dressed girls. The room stank of alcohol, smoke, and sweat. Empty bottles of wine, butts of cigarettes, and colorful clothing littered the floor. Curtains were drawn, and the only lights present were the photrines glowing at the chandelier.

  The girls shrieked at the sight of him. The wardens rose to their feet scowling. Akunai, lounging alone in the center of a velvet couch, arms spread, lazily turned to glance.

  “What in the Void do you think you’re doing, Illyne?” Sether barked. He was a large man, two heads taller than Dray, with a bald head full of scars and wrinkles that seemed to crawl as he swayed forward, fists clenched. He retrieved his astrum off a nearby table: a waist-high wooden branch, bearing jade floralds like fruit.

  Dray didn’t give him a chance to channel. He punched the staff, channeling into it, and releasing the jewels from their prongs. They clattered to the floor, clanging and rolling away, leaving Sether with a stupefied, surprised expression. A second later, that expression twisted in agony as Dray punched his stomach, sending him crashing against the wall with a thud.

  Screaming, the girls bolted past Dray. The remaining two wardens leaped to fight, but before they reached their astra, Dray was upon them, punching and stomping as he channeled. Buttons were undone, belts came loose, pants sagged, and shoelaces unwrapped themselves. In seconds, the two wardens were floundering on the floor in pain, struggling against their own uniforms.

  Akunai with his smug, self-important attitude remained seated on the couch in the same relaxed position, smoking a cigarette. He must have thought Dray wouldn’t dare lay a finger on his commander, or that there’d be a conversation leading to the fight, or an honorable chance to stand. Dray, by jumping at his midsection knee first then following with a barrage of punches at his skull, proved him wrong.

  Blood spluttered, eyes bulged, and Akunai finally started fighting back, realizing if he didn’t, he’d leave this room on a stretcher.

  The chief fought like a raging elexos. Even after Dray undid the pyrpphires on his rings, Akunai’s punches slammed like boulders. A kick hurled Dray into a wooden table, shattering it on impact.

  He rose at once, but before he could rush at Akunai again, a dozen hands seized him, pulling him back.

  With a snarl, he channeled into their grips, unlocking them, slipping free. He stepped forward, but a single warden jumped to intercept him.

  “Stop! Stop!” Ficar shouted.

  Genma groaned from the floor, struggling to pull up his pants. “Have you gone mad?”.

  “What happened here?” Ficar asked.

  “This lunatic attacked us!” Shyso said, wiping his bloodied mouth.

  “You son of a whore!” Sether said, rushing toward Dray.

  Dray turned to meet the bald man, but again the hands grabbed him. Sether’s punch landed, cracking his jaw and spinning the world. Muscle memory, accumulated through eight years of extensive training, compelled Dray to twist while he channeled, ducking in time to dodge the next blow. Sether struck an unfortunate warden behind, while Dray surged forward, slamming a fist into Sether’s gut. As Sether’s belt and buttons released, the bald man stumbled back, tripping on his falling pants.

  Dray turned toward Akunai, but Ficar obstructed him again, gripping his shoulders. Other wardens poured in behind, catching Dray’s torso and arms. One tried to strangle him, but Dray’s fantasia flowed into the idiot’s arms, loosening his grip.

  “Why are you doing this?” Ficar yelled, locking gazes with him.

  Dray pointed at Akunai. “This man doesn’t deserve the title of chief!” he shouted, fighting against his captors. “He’s forcing the duchess to marry him against her will. You all saw her face at the announcement; she was heartbroken.”

  Whispers and murmurs sparked through the crowd. From the corner, one of the girls whispered, “I heard she’s locked herself in her room since yesterday.”

  Ficar frowned in what could be skepticism or disappointment. Dray didn’t care. Cleora was worth all of this and more.

  Akunai snarled like a fox caught in a henhouse, then spat red phlegm aside. “You come storming here with this nonsense and no proof? Illyne, you’re dead meat.”

  “I don’t need proof,” Dray hissed back. “You know it, I know it. That’s enough for me. Come fight like a man.”

  The moment the challenge left his lips, he knew it was pointless. The wardens would never release him, and this coward of a chief wouldn’t submit himself to another round of humiliation. Dray had to push everyone away and rush again.

  Akunai cracked his neck. “Let him go,” he ordered. “And don’t interfere.”

  Murmurs rose through the crowd. Dray raised his eyebrows, but only for a second, then grinned. Soon, he’d make this arrogant coalson regret this decision. Slowly, the wardens released him and backed away. All except Ficar.

  “Don’t do this,” Ficar pleaded. “You won’t achieve anything here. Come with me and we’ll figure a way to fix this.”

  Dray noticed the changes in his old friend. Ficar’s hair was combed sideways, his shirt buttoned properly, and barely any rings decorated his fingers. He was serious about trying to join Akunai’s group.

  Dray turned to stare at Akunai. “You have your orders, warden.”

  Ficar leaned closer, whispering, “He’s not the chief without reason. He’ll beat you bloody. Your powers are not suitable for combat.”

  Dray felt as if a hot knife had pierced his back. It was one thing having his teachers question his ability. But Ficar knew the efforts Dray had put into training. The sleepless nights, the skipped holidays. Ficar didn’t have to support him, only to let go like the others. But no, here he stood in his way. Doubting him.

  Dray channeled into Ficar’s grip, breaking free, and rushed to meet his chief.

  Akunai twisted a hand, brandishing a red kunai of pure pyrpphire. Of course, the chief had a backup astrum for his lost backup. A whip of fire slashed out, forcing Dray to duck and slide away. Akunai gave no respite, cracking the burning whip in every direction, leaving charred marks against the walls and ceiling, setting the room ablaze. The air shimmered with heat.

  Dray was forced to dodge and retreat. He’d assumed the small crowded room would hinder the chief’s capabilities. But other firedancers stepped forward, snuffing out the flames before they hit anyone.

  Dray grabbed a chair and flung it. Akunai reduced it to cinders midair with a wave of orange flames. Leaping off another chair, Dray dodged a fireball that charred the curtains and smashed the window behind. Wind howled in as gemlight flooded the room.

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  Reaching the chandelier, he channeled into its screws, ripping it free. Spinning, he flung it at the chief, who had the presence of mind not to fire at the photrine-adorned bomb flying in his direction. Akunai ducked, but hadn’t foreseen that Dray had channeled into the sconces, sending the little gems flying all around.

  Several struck him, exploding with bright hot flashes, slamming him against the wall. By the time he regained his balance, Dray was already upon him, pummeling with fists.

  Cornered, Akunai unleashed a curtain of flame that lit the room and drew screams from the onlookers.

  Dray didn’t stop. He fell forward, using his flame-resistant cloak as a shield. Sparks licked him as he channeled to dislodge the flames from his skin. The stunt was difficult, making his head throb, vision blur, but he broke into Akunai’s ineffective range.

  Any firecasting done here would burn them both.

  The kunai fell first with a clank. Then the belt and pants. Dray poured fantasia with every punch, and when he blasted Akunai’s shoulder with a powerful fist, he heard the joint pop.

  Akunai howled in pain, his arm dangling beside him uselessly. Dray smiled. He swung again, aiming at the other shoulder, but the chief stepped on the fallen kunai, piercing his own foot in the act. An eruption burst between them, throwing each towards a side of the room.

  Dray’s head cracked against the wall. His vision blackened for a second. Shouts rose. Someone rushed to his side, but was pulled away. Fire raged all around, burning hot. But they were incomparable to the fury raging inside.

  Groggily, he rose, watching Akunai tear off what remained of his burned shirt with his good hand. Under the light of dancing flames, the chief’s eyes flicked to the kunai embedded in the wall nearby. He lunged for it as Dray rushed to deny him.

  Akunai reached his astrum, but couldn’t pull it out. He managed a single fiery kick, wide and clumsy, then Dray struck his knee midair, channeling.

  Pop.

  Akunai screamed in pain again, falling on his injured shoulder with a painful thud. Gasps rose throughout the room. Feet shuffled. Arguments and threats sounded as some tried to break the chief’s command while others stopped them. Dray paid them no heed.

  “You’ll regret it you coalson! You’ll regret hurting her!” Dray roared as he pummeled the chief underneath him, dislocating his other shoulder.

  His knuckles grew sore but he didn’t stop. His head was about to explode from the contamination, but he didn’t relent. Wounds and burns covered his body, but he ignored them. All he saw was Cleora crying on her bed, and this coalson laughing ear to ear.

  With a sudden twist, Akunai reached up and ripped Dray’s earring astrum from his ear, tearing the lobe. Dray cried out, unable to comprehend how Akunai moved his spoiled arm.

  Before he could theorize, the chief seized him by the hair and slammed his head into the nearby desk.

  They switched positions. Akunai, straddling Dray, struck again and again with his one good fist, screaming with every blow. Dray shielded his face, but the room spun, and he ate more punches than what he could afford. Sometime between the strikes, he realized that Akunai had fixed his shoulder when they fell together, using their added weight to pop it back in.

  What a genius technique! Brutal. Efficient. Too bad the chief hadn’t fixed his knee as well.

  Dray gripped and squeezed the dislocated knee, eliciting an ear-piercing shriek from Akunai. Still, the pained man didn’t retreat, but leaned forward, placing his forearm against Dray’s throat, suffocating him.

  “I’ll kill you here and now, Illyne,” Akunai spat.

  “What in the Void is going on here?!” A voice bellowed from behind.

  Dray hadn’t noticed when half the HQ had gathered outside the chief’s room. The curtain of black-cloaked wardens parted revealing an irate Duke Hishtem accompanied by a pale Emery.

  “Stand up, both of you!” the duke commanded.

  Akunai gave Dray one last punch before sliding off of him. Sether, Genma, and Shyso rushed to help their chief, but he pushed them away. Retrieving his belt from the ground, he bit down on it and pounded his dislocated knee back into place, his eyes rolling to the back of his head with pain. After a few strikes, he was left panting and groaning but with a fixed knee. Then stood on his own.

  Dray meanwhile, needed more time to get up. He remained dizzied, his ears ringing. Only when Sether finished resetting Akunai’s other shoulder did Dray manage to stand, clutching his ribs.

  Akunai wiped blood from his lips and gestured at the wreckage. “This man attacked me and my men in my own office. I took it upon myself to discipline him.”

  The duke looked them over. His gaze lingered on the broken furniture, the half-naked girls cowering in the corner, and the alcohol and cigarettes scattered on the floor.

  “And what were you doing in your office, half-naked at this hour, with this… company?” he asked flatly.

  “The party was my idea my lord,” Sether said. “We were-“

  “Shut it, you. I did not permit you to speak,” the duke barked. He turned to Dray in disgust, no longer interested in his first question. “What’s your name, officer?”

  Dray’s eyes flicked toward his earring, lying a few feet away. If only he could reach it…

  “Dray Illyne,” he replied, standing straighter despite the pain.

  The duke turned to Emery. “Is this the promising recruit you spoke so highly of?”

  “Y-yes, my duke, but there has been a huge misunderstanding,” Emery stammered. “I assure you, warden Dray has never displayed such reckless-“

  “Enough, Emery. Let the man speak,” the duke commanded. “Well, warden Illyne, why did you attack your chief?”

  Dray clutched his pained jaw. He hadn’t considered this previously, but now that he stood before him, he realized that the duke was as guilty as Akunai, if not more. He hated them both. Wanted to hurt them both. But while his fists had reached the chief, the moment he’d step towards the duke, the wardens filling the room would put him down like a rabid dog.

  “This coalsack is making up lies about your family, my duke,” Akunai started. “He’s claiming—”

  “That Duchess Cleora is against her upcoming marriage,” Dray cut in. He wouldn’t give Akunai the satisfaction of making him look the coward. “And that she is being forced into it by Akunai and… by you, my duke.”

  The moment he said it, he felt like a coalbrained idiot. Why had he added that honorary “my duke” at the end? Stupid habit, probably. He wasn’t afraid of the man, nor did he hold any illusions that showing respect would spare him.

  The room fell silent. It seemed everyone was holding their breath. Dray noticed Ficar near the front, eyes shut, jaw clenched. Farther back, Mirio stared with his mouth agape.

  The duke’s face reddened in rage. “That is a preposterous accusation!” he shouted, his voice shaking the room. “I will not be accused of mistreating my daughter in my own city by a lowlife scum like you.”

  Dray held his head high, despite the dizziness. “She was nearly in tears at the announcement.”

  “Because her stupid cat is sick!” the duke snapped. “She’s been nursing the useless creature since yesterday. If I’d known its worthless life would spark such idiotic rumors, I’d have snapped its neck myself!”

  Dray blinked. For a moment, he didn’t know what to believe anymore. He turned to Emery, a thousand questions crowding his mind. The one that burned the hottest was whether he had ruined his life over a joke.

  Emery cleared his throat. “I—I’m afraid I’m responsible for that tasteless rumor,” he surprisingly admitted. “I was jesting with Dray in my office, and he left before I could explain. I never imagined things would… escalate this quickly. I sincerely apologize, my duke.”

  Duke Hishtem exhaled a slow, disappointed sigh.

  “It appears all three of you require punishment,” the duke started. “You, Emery, for spreading falsehoods about my family, even in jest, shall have your pay cut by two-thirds for six months.”

  “Deserved, my lord,” Emery said, bowing his head.

  The duke turned to Akunai, eyes raking over his torn clothes and disheveled appearance. “And you. Your… attire and company are unworthy of a Chief Warden, nor my future son-in-law. You are hereby suspended from duty for one week. Use the time to reflect on how to better represent your station.”

  Akunai said nothing. His nostrils flared and muscles worked in his jaw. Somehow, he managed not to scowl.

  Finally, the duke turned to Dray. “As for you, Illyne. We usually hold court for these cases, but because of the overwhelming evidence against you…” He gestured to the ruined room and the bruised lieutenants. “And your own confession, I’ll make an exception tonight.” He raised his chin, throwing his gut forward, hands behind his back. “For striking your fellow wardens, for attacking your chief, and for slandering my family, you are to be executed tomorrow at dawn.”

  Dray’s jaw dropped. Blood drained from his head, and he swayed on his feet. Gasps and murmurs rose around, but a loud ringing sounded in his ears, silencing the whole world. Dray turned to Ficar and Mirio whose faces were pale as snow. He tried to speak, to protest, to beg, but his mouth felt so dry, and his brain provided no arguments. As the duke commanded the wardens to disperse, Dray’s racing heart felt about to explode.

  “Wipe that stupid look off your face, Illyne,” the duke sneered. “What did you expect to happen when you barged in here and struck your superiors? The wardens are not a mercenary band. They are the guardians of Troqua, and the backbone of my government. Such actions will never be tolerated. Wardens, seize him!”

  Flashing his ugly grin, Sether rushed to oblige.

  **********