Mestendi should have panicked when her angel’s eyes slowly slid closed. The foamy blood on Ana’s chin and the ragged way she was breathing should have been terrifying. The fact that her wings vanished shortly thereafter should have made things worse. Only two things kept Messy from screaming and trying to shake Ana awake, or picking her up and carrying her to Touanne herself.

  The first was that the System had notified her that, as Ana was incapacitated, Messy was now the new Party leader. Not dead; incapacitated. That was good. It didn't mean that everything was fine, but Ana was still alive, and Messy knew that some people had gone to fetch the Healer. Trying to move her while she was coughing up blood seemed like more risk than it was worth.

  The other was that she felt numb. That was probably the best word. Ever since that man opened the door to the common room of The Master’s Mistress, it was like there had been a thick blanket between what she felt and what she thought. Though it was getting better she still couldn't make herself feel properly. It had made some things easier — accepting Ana’s offer of devotion was one; slamming that fancy dagger into the Ascender's heart was another — but she knew that it was wrong, and she didn't like it.

  So, Messy sat there, waiting for help to arrive as she sang softly and ran her bloody hands over and through what remained of Ana's hair, the soft fuzz on the rest of her head, and the beautiful, fiery bird that covered most of her back. And as she did, she tried to process what had just happened.

  An Ascender had forced himself into the Splinter somehow, probably through the Waystone. That must have been what the thunderclap was. Was he alone? Messy couldn't guess. He’d come for Ana unerringly, and had done something that made everyone obey him, Ana included.

  And then he must have tried to kill her. To hurt her, at the very least. It was the only explanation. Messy knew all about Ana’s Class and Abilities, and only her bonuses becoming active could explain her shaking his influence off so she could fight.

  When Messy had calmly walked outside along with the other patrons, when she'd seen Ana on her back, straining to keep her knee bent around the Ascender's throat, she'd been immensely conflicted. There had been a sense of deep wrongness about the scene. Ana, strong as she was, should not have been so arrogant as to even try to fight a superior being like the Ascender. Much less should she have had a chance of success. It went against the natural order. Yet, at the same time Messy knew that Ana must win. There would be no purpose to anything if she didn't. But Messy had been unable to do as much as speak up. It would not have been right to interfere.

  Not even when she saw and heard Ana’s leg break did she do anything to help. It took a minute before she could will her feet to move; another before she managed to pick up the discarded dagger from where it lay on the cobbles.

  The Ascender had managed to shift Ana’s leg enough to take a single, wheezing breath before Messy slammed the dagger into his heart. It had been that close.

  Messy wished that she could enjoy the pride she knew was being smothered by that blanket. A weaker person might have been ashamed of not acting faster. Messy knew that would be ridiculous. She was proud of having acted at all, proud to have helped Ana— perhaps even saved her, and how amazing was that? Her, a Jeweler, saving someone like Ana! Yes, she'd seen Ana fighting for her life, and she'd hesitated. She'd stood there and watched her Angel spit blood as she desperately held her own against a demigod, and she’d had to fight herself to do what she did. But the Ascender's will had made it almost impossible to do anything — to even want to do anything. She suspected that she and the other patrons had only gone outside because he had wanted them to see Ana die. And yet Messy had willed herself to move, to pick up that dagger, and to drive it into his heart.

  It had taken three damn tries before she pierced his flesh, too, and he’d kicked her away after the second, sending her rolling across the street. Praise be to Critical Strike for letting her strike true at the same point each time. She, a Level 15 social Classer, had killed an Ascender. And she couldn’t even enjoy the awe and pride she knew was there, just out of reach.

  Besides that pride, and though she had no real claim to it, Messy was also just so damn proud of Ana. She’d truly looked like an angel there on the cobbles. A divine warrior. She’d been incredible; her wings spread across the street, her torso almost bare, every muscle standing out and defined by a sheen of sweat as she slowly choked the life out of a demigod. The furious determination on her face, the way she didn't even flinch when her leg bent. The sheer will that must have taken. The power.

  An Ascender had dragged Ana into the street, and she would be the one to see the morning. Messy may have been the one to pierce his heart, but Ana was the one who’d wrestled him into submission. And, oh, gods beyond, Messy did not regret that she couldn’t feel the inferno that her attraction to Ana had become. There would be time enough for that later, after Touanne fixed what was broken in her angel.

  Still, even if Ana had been the one to disable him, Messy had been the one to pierce the Ascender's heart. The System had recognized her contribution fully, giving her an Ascendant Growth Crystal, and an Achievement: Hagiocide. She'd never heard of it. She may be one of only a handful of people who had it. She'd never heard of Ascension Points, either, but there it was on her Summary, an entirely new row between her Storage and her Attributes. She hadn't been forced to spend it immediately, which was a relief. She wanted to talk to Ana about it first. But she had queried the System about what it was and what it could be used for, and what it told her only contributed to the numbness she felt — in a good way.

  3 Points or an Enhancement to any Attribute? That was enormous! So was a Perk. A Step to any Multiplier was worth almost as much as a Class Level! But the first two alternatives were what had her stunned. Being able to Evolve her Class to the next Tier — from Journeyman to Master Tier in her case — even if she didn’t meet the requirements was huge. Her Jewelery Making Skill had many Levels to go before she’d qualify for the Master Jeweler Class normally. And as for translating a Class, she hadn’t even known that translating was a thing! She’d never heard the term before! She’d queried the System, and what it told her amazed her as much as the other options.

  It was no less than Switching without the grind. Messy wasn’t sure if she was willing or ready to give up on being a Jeweler, but it opened up so many possibilities!

  Messy would most likely never gain another Ascension Point. She didn’t want to waste it — if that was even possible. She needed to talk to Ana about it. She needed Ana to wake up.

  She needed Ana to be okay.

  She hoped that Touanne would get there before the numbness went away, because she was pretty sure that she’d start screaming and crying once it did.

  “Mestendi?”

  Messy heard the voice distantly. It was anxious, male, and familiar, but with the numbness and everything on her mind it was hard to place. Then Tor knelt beside her, and she connected the voice to the face. Of course! How could she not have known that immediately?

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  “Mestendi?” he asked again, and he sounded even more anxious this time.

  She stopped singing. “Hmm?” she hummed calmly.

  “Are you alright?” he asked.

  “Oh, no,” she said. “Ana’s hurt. I don’t think I can be alright until she is safe. Where’s Touanne?”

  “No idea. I just came from the stockade. There was… Gods, Ana’s going to go spare when she hears. Did you get her a potion?”

  “No. I asked, but nobody’s brought her one yet, and I can’t leave her.”

  “Okay. Listen, Mestendi, there was an attack, okay? Not just here. I’m guessing… the dead guy came for Ana, and she won?”

  Mestendi smiled softly, though it was entirely mechanical. She knew it should make her smile, so she did, even if the desire to do so was smothered. “Yes. He was an Ascender. She almost choked the life out of him, but he was getting loose, so I had to stab him.”

  “An Ascender?!” Tor’s eyes widened, his voice rising in shock. “Are you sure? No, wait, of course you are. You’d have a notification and everything. Shit, this is worse than we thought. Okay, Messy, here’s what you need to know, okay? There’s been an attack. From what I know, a bunch of people came through the Waystone. They tried to free the prisoners, and I don’t know what else they may have done. We need to get off the street, okay? I don’t know that it’s safe here. And I don’t know if we’re in control of the square, or if we’ll have to sneak or fight our way past to get to Mistress Touanne. I can hear some raised voices from there, and it doesn’t sound like fighting, but that doesn’t mean that whoever’s there is friendly. So I need you to get up, okay? Can you carry Ana?”

  “I can,” Messy said. Ana, whatever else she was, was small. And Messy might have been a Jeweler, but her Multipliers were well rounded. And Ana had a strict exercise regimen, which Messy joined in religiously — half as an excuse to ogle her girlfriend, but it had done her some good. She’d gained a point of Base Strength a few weeks back and her Effective value was 15. Still, she heard the doubt in her own voice. “Is that safe? She’s been bringing up blood when she breathes.”

  Tor sighed heavily. “Yeah, judging by the color of her side she’ll have some broken ribs. But she’s tough, right? The toughest woman— hell, the toughest person I know. And it’s safer than sitting here, if there are more of the bastards and they come this way.”

  “Oh. Yeah. Yeah, that makes sense. We should move quickly then, before I start to feel things again.”

  Tor made a questioning sound, but Messy ignored him. “Take her for a moment, please,” she said, and Tor lifted Ana off her, careful to avoid putting any pressure on her injured side.

  Messy stood. Then she took two steps over to the dead Ascender, whose eyes stared at the darkening sky full of bafflement, as though he’d never even considered that this might be a possible outcome. “Arrogant bastard,” Mestendi said evenly, looking down at him. “How dare you underestimate my angel?”

  Then she put her foot on his chest, grabbed the hilt of the dagger in both hands, and pulled it out. She wiped the blade on a clean patch of his white trousers, admiring the ornate pattern on the blade — an Engraving, she was sure. Then she undid its sheath from the corpse’s belt and slid the dagger in before fixing it to the braided leather cord she’d used to cinch her dress at the waist. That would have to do.

  “There,” she said to Tor, who was staring at her like he’d never seen her before. “Give her here. You’ll need your hands free in case there’s a fight.”

  Tor did as she asked, but he still had that uncomfortable look as she laid Ana in Messy’s waiting arms. He wasn’t even trying to hide it. “Look around,” she said, indicating the people still in the street. Some were becoming emotional, but most were like Messy: calm. Even. “The Ascender did something to us. It’s very hard to feel anything, and that’s useful right now, but I think it’s passing. We should move before everything catches up with me, and I start either crying or laughing hysterically. Possibly both.”

  “Right,” Tor said decisively. “Probably makes sense. Goddamn Ascender bullshit. Who even knows what they can do? Let’s move!”

  Rather than risk checking the square, they went dawnward along smaller streets before turning south. The sounds of angry shouting grew louder by the moment, but they couldn’t worry about that. They had to get to Touanne. To get Ana healing, or to make sure that the Healer was safe, it made little difference — both were important, and the first hinged on the second.

  Ana was so light in Messy’s arms. It was almost unbelievable that someone so strong, in body and in spirit, could be so small and light. Messy had known that, of course, but manhandling her angel in a very different and much more pleasant context was not at all the same as carrying her in her arms. She’d only done that once or twice before, and then she’d been much too excited to really reflect on it. Now… Well, Messy couldn’t quite run with Ana in her arms, but she could manage a light jog without jostling her too much.

  Goddess, she thought as they moved through a small garden between a group of houses three streets away from the square, forgive me for any harm I might cause her in my haste to get her to safety. And please, if there is anything you can do for her, do it. She killed an Ascender for you. That has to count for something. Please. Please!

  As Tor turned them duskward, taking them toward the southern part of Main Street, Messy felt the cool trails of tears on her face. The blanket was fraying, the fear and anger and pride and everything else straining to tear through it, and gods only knew what would happen to Messy when they did. Still, it was better than she’d feared. They’d almost made it. Now, if she could only hold out for a little longer…

  Close ahead, three men Messy didn’t recognize rounded a corner. They were carrying weapons, and the leader, a brown-haired man with a smith’s build, pointed in their direction, shouting, “There! With the white hair! That must be her!”

  “Shit!” Tor spat as the three men approached. His sword was already in his hand. “Can you run with her?”

  “No,” Messy said, her voice trembling as she knelt to lay Ana on the packed dirt of the side street. She drew the dagger from its sheath and stepped between her angel and the men who would no doubt kill her if they could. “Are you in a Party?” she asked Tor as calmly as she could.

  “Yes,” he confirmed.

  “Leave it, and join mine. You’ll get her bonuses.”

  Tor didn’t question it. He staggered as the Vitality and Endurance bonuses hit him, then stood firm.

  The men approached carefully, spreading out. They all had swords, and there were three of them against Tor and Messy with just a sword and a dagger. And the men were all combat Classers, two Fighters and a Brawler, in the mid to high teens. Things looked grim. Everyone could see it. But no matter the odds, Tor and Messy did have that sword and that dagger, and the men didn’t want a fight if they could avoid it. That was just human nature.

  “Give us the woman,” the apparent leader of the group said. Messy didn’t listen. She was busy. “That’s all we want. There’s people looking for her and a few others all throughout the outpost. Once they’re dead, this all ends. Give us her, and there’s no need to fight. You don’t need to die here.”

  “Can’t do that,” Tor said, “She’s a friend, and a goddamn hero. We’ll take our chances.” Then he flourished his sword. It was very smooth, but Messy barely saw it. She was busy.

  She really had wanted to talk to Ana about it, but sometimes, decisions were forced upon you. They had to fight. It was that simple. And so, Messy knew what to do with her Ascension point.

  Goddess, I beg you, she prayed silently as the leader of the small group made his offer. Let this be the right decision.

  Then Messy Reset her Class. She went into her Class menu, and chose Fighter.

  “Shit,” said the Brawler, who hadn’t spoken yet. “The Jeweler just became a Fighter. Looks like we’re done talking.”

  “Dammit,” the leader spat. “I really did want this to end with as little blood spilled as possible.”

  Messy barely heard them. She spent her Ascension Point, choosing to Evolve her Class to a higher-Tier one, and prayed.

  That was promising, but she didn't even look. Instead she immediately spent every Growth Crystal she had. It took her to Level 10 in an instant. She’d been saving to reach Level 16 in Jeweler, but… well. Only then did she quickly glance at the descriptions for her new Class and Abilities.

  Messy smiled grimly. Maybe, she thought. Goddess willing. Then she deftly snatched one of Tor’s daggers from his belt, twirled the two blades, and prepared to die.

  and read 8 chapters ahead of both Splinter Angel and Draka! You also get to read anything else I’m trying out — which is how Splinter Angel got started.

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