“Try again, My Lady.” Estovan tried to sound encouraging. It didn’t work.

  The Godblade was a heavy, rusted weight in my hand. Not a weapon, barely a trinket. Nothing like the peerless sword it should have been.

  I closed my eyes. Focused. The sword wanted Defiance. It would have been simple if all it took was to increase the anger and frustration I felt to draw it out. It would have been less painful.

  Liar.

  The sword would whisper each time. The Godblade was always cryptic, but I could figure out the meaning well enough in this case. The sword needed true resolve, not a fake. I knew how to draw it out. It was just that I’d wanted to try everything else first.

  I closed my eyes. Focused. Resolve, huh?

  I was back in the alley again. I pried open Sere’s mouth. She looked both pained and embarrassed at the same time. I saw the stump where her tongue should have been. A mother did that to her own child, or let it happen. Maybe she wasn't involved at all, and it was just the world's fault. It didn't matter.

  I thought of twenty children just like Sere. Children I’d never seen, would never see. They would live as slaves in some godforsaken underground tunnel. Duke Greenward would dispose of them when they weren’t useful. If Sere was meant to be one such child…then perhaps it made a sick kind of sense why they took her tongue.

  I opened my eyes. In my hands was a blade more brilliant than the sun itself.

  Break.

  I took a step forward, towards Estovan, who stood just a few feet away. It wasn’t me moving. Invisible strings pulled me.

  “Not…him,” I growled, forcing myself to my knees.

  The sword rebelled in my hand. Mana made one want to move. To act. This was that, but much stronger.

  I took a deep breath, forcing myself to stillness. Estovan only looked mildly concerned. At least I’d finally gotten the thing to show its true form, and could somewhat control it, unpleasant as it might have been.

  Now, for the real test.

  Click. Click.

  I flicked two knobs in my head. One diluted my pain. The other my exhaustion.

  YOU. LIAR. TWO. KINGS.

  Pain lanced through me, so sharp and so intense I fell on my side. My entire body convulsed. The sword fell from my hand, turning back into a rusted hunk of iron almost instantly.

  Estovan was at my side, looking at me worriedly.

  My body continued to spasm. My Gift was gone, shrouded over in a way I couldn’t reach. The spasms slowly turned to occasional twitches.

  “My Lady…are you alright?” Estovan looked horrified.

  I weakly nodded. It had hurt like hell, even if I’d known this would happen.

  “I just need a few seconds. I don’t suppose you can help m- help me up?”

  Estovan hurried to obey, getting me back on unsteady feet. The pain had mostly faded now. I could feel the knobs back in my head.

  “That is the problem,” I muttered. “When I try to use the Gift and my blade.”

  Estovan slowly nodded. I turned from him, looked off to the side. Sere sat in a lone folding chair, staring at us with wide eyes. The book she was supposed to be reading was apparently forgotten. I gave her a grin and a thumbs-up. She studiously went back to reading, or at least pretending to read.

  “So, how do I fix this?” I asked Estovan. I willed the sword away. It was as simple as wishing it were gone, and then it was.

  “My lady, I am afraid I’m not sure.” Estovan looked genuinely uncertain. “I’ve never heard or seen such a thing before. A Godblade moves you to its intent. Some Godblades can harm the user depending on the Intent. Even when they do, it doesn’t look like this.”

  I had feared that answer. My own research hadn’t told me much either.

  “This only happens when you try to use your Gift with the blade, yes?” Estovan finally asked.

  "Yes. It said something about I don't suppose you know what that means?"

  He reluctantly shook his head. He didn't question a talking sword either. That was something well known about Heroes and their blades.

  “I see. Well, the experiment was a bit painful.”

  “A bit.” Estovan echoed, deadpan. I blushed.

  “My Lady, someone with a Gift shouldn’t be able to have a Godblade. The fact that you could bond one is already an anomaly. I’m afraid few would have the answers to such a question.” Estovan sighed. “I suspect only someone close to being a God themselves might have an answer.”

  From my rather copious amounts of research, all Gods had once started out as normal Gift users, before ‘ascending’. What ascending was however was a mystery no book I read could answer.

  “If I do run into any Gods, I’ll be sure to ask.”

  “If you do, My Lady,” Estovan said dryly. “I would hope you turned and ran.”

  I raised my hands in a placating gesture. “Noted. I don’t plan on fighting any Divinities any time soon.”

  Estovan smirked slightly, a rare expression from him. He paused, looked at something beyond me. I followed his gaze.

  If it were any ordinary maid or manservant, he would have warned me. Our training was largely kept a secret from anyone but my inner circle, though I was sure there were rumors already. This was just Anias.

  We both stepped off the sparring ring. Anias came and stood at Sere’s side. In front of her floated three cups and a plate that carried a small cake. The plate and one of the cups hovered in front of Sere, the two cups floating and stopping in front of Estovan and me. The more time I spent with Anias, the more I was convinced that Telekinesis was a truly useful Gift for a maid.

  Anias held two letters in her hand.

  “My Lady, you were expecting these. I considered it wise not to wait for you to finish.”

  I smiled. “We were just about done, actually.”

  “Then…have you made any progress, Lady Esra?”

  “Not particularly.” It was hard not to sound deflated.

  Anias nodded smoothly. The two letters in her hand floated in front of me, unsealing themselves. I held the teacup in my hand as I read.

  One carried the seal of the Information Guild, the other carried the seal of House Wardell.

  “It’s just how I like it,” I commented, lightly raising the glass.

  “You are oddly particular about tea, Lady Esra,” Anias said dryly.

  And here I thought I’d done better to hide my expressions.

  The letter from Duke Corin Wardell was frustrating, if not unexpected. House Wardell was stretched thin policing the entire city. Missing children aside, the underworld in general had been more active lately, likely due to the quickly approaching King’s Tournament and then the influx of Artifacts. They didn’t have the men to spare in what would likely be a costly raid, at least not yet.

  Duke Corin advised ‘patience’, and to strike when the ‘time was right’. When would the time be right? In a month, when who knew how many more children were abducted off the streets? Perhaps he simply didn’t want to kick up a stir near such a public event. If that was the case, then I had misjudged the man.

  I took a deep breath. Unclenched my hand around the handle of the cup. It had started to shake.

  The other letter had much better news. It was a coded message that simply said that the Information Guild had looked into the location I had provided, and that it was a base for the Blue Vipers. That woman doubtless knew more than she was sharing.

  “My Lady, is the news that dire?”

  I looked up at Anias. Sighed. “I suppose not.”

  There was logic in Duke Corin’s hesitation, I knew that. Yet, some part of me simply couldn’t accept it.

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  Break.

  The sword whispered.

  I looked over at Sere. The girl had somehow managed to almost devour the overly large slice of cake Anias had gotten for her in the span of a couple of minutes. She blushed when she caught me looking and pointedly looked away.

  “Anias? Estovan?”

  “My Lady?” They both stiffened. Something in my tone was cold.

  I felt like there should have been more to it. A moment of hesitation. An ounce of fear. Wasn’t that what most people felt? All of the stories I had ever read had people agonize over choices like these. Perhaps it’s because I’d made my own mind up back in that alley.

  I didn’t feel it. All I felt was the iciness of my own resolve.

  “If it came down to it, could the two of you destroy one warehouse, and say, thirty or so thugs?” My voice was a whisper, carried only by the gentle breeze.

  They both looked at each other, then back at me. Sere, thankfully, seemed blissfully unaware of the conversation.

  “If My Lady commands it,” Estovan said slowly. “Then it wouldn’t be a difficult matter for either of us. However, a warehouse has alarms. If we are seen, if we did this for no reason….”

  “Then we leave no witnesses,” I said simply. “And there is a reason. Duke Greenward will have a hard time arguing technicality when we find evidence.”

  My Gift had seen through Indri. He had been telling the truth. Otherwise, I might have been more hesitant.

  “The men under House Veyne’s command might be more suited to such a task.” Anias hesitated too. I had come to learn that the woman didn’t actually like combat very much. An odd thing, that. “But if it’s a command….” She trailed off.

  “The men manning the walls have their loyalties split between House Veyne and the city they serve. It’s also not quite their post.” I explained. “And, frankly, I can’t trust them. I can’t trust all of the maids in the manor, let alone men I’ve never seen with my own eyes. The same goes for the guards at this manor.”

  I took a deep breath. “The only people I can trust are here. Right in front of me. Well, and Damian.”

  Damian had gone back to his father’s estate for the day. It was hard to tell if he was glad for the chance to go back home or if he regretted leaving this place. Some odd mix of both, I think.

  “This-” Anias shook her head. “I know how you feel, Lady Esra. But still….this isn’t how-”

  “This is not how my father would have done things.” I finished for her. “Will you follow me anyway?”

  “Quickstep might have.” Anias sighed. “Lord Adrian certainly would not."

  "If you do this, and you are wrong...." Estovan sighed. "The balance between the five Houses is a perilous thing. House Veyne might have to pay a heavy price."

  "I am sure it would." I agreed. "I would shame my ancestors and bring ruin on my descendants. Again, will you do it?"

  "If it's a command," Anias murmured.

  "It's not," I repeated. "It's not. It's a request."

  A part of me really did think they would refuse. I had acted willfully, but never this much.

  “It seems I will get the chance to see you fight once more, Anias.” Estovan’s face had the barest trace of a smile.

  “Aye. It seems that you will.”

  I found myself grinning too.

  I couldn’t sleep.

  This was an annoyingly normal occurrence for me ever since I had been reborn in this body. Quite often, I found myself waking up in a cold sweat, some half-remembered nightmare teasing at the edges of my memory. Most of the time, I went right back to sleep after a decent bit of tossing and turning.

  Today was not one of those days.

  I absently wandered the halls, my feet taking me to the manor’s library. Did I even need to sleep? If the fatigue grew too much, taking away my body’s perception of it made me good as new. There might be a few side effects, but it should be fine every once in a while, right?

  “You’re being stupid,” I mumbled to myself. “It hasn’t been that long with this power, and you’re already becoming too reliant on it.”

  That much was definitely true.

  Technically, it might have been more appropriate for me to sit in bed and have a servant fetch me what I needed.

  This late, the manor was largely asleep. Even the guard stationed in the hall outside my chambers had looked like he was fighting against his own exhaustion. It had been simple enough to sneak right past him.

  As far as I was concerned, Veyne Manor was entirely too large for someone like me. Why did I have to set out on a mini trek just to get to the library?

  Thud. Thud.

  I froze in place, not sure if I’d even heard correctly. Nothing happened for several seconds, and I almost thought I was just hearing things.

  Thud.

  My gaze narrowed as I moved in the direction of the sound. I channeled my mana, focused on the sound, and sharpened my hearing.

  My own heartbeat sounded unusually loud, though the rhythmic beating of my heart didn’t sound much faster than usual. Every breath reverberated through me. Trees rustled outside, the sounds of wind picking up somewhere in the distance.

  Thud.

  Much, much louder this time. I started to move in that direction, the sounds only getting louder as I drew close. I only had to round two corners before I was in front of the right room. I gingerly adjusted my hearing back to normal.

  Wait, wasn’t this one of the spare training rooms? This was the same one Damian had taken to using for some odd reason.

  I stepped closer, nudging the door open.

  In a corner of the small rectangular room, a small shadow threw itself at a punching bag. The punching bag shifted forward under the weight of a few quick punches. The figure moved back, moved clumsily to the side, and then attacked the punching bag from that direction instead. The punching bag rocked in that direction this time.

  The figure pulled back, twisting their body, and swung. The only problem was that they hadn’t quite taken into account the rebound from the dummy itself. It ended up smacking right into them, and with their size, it was enough to knock them right off their feet.

  They let out a gasp as they fell to the floor. The light finally fell just right on top of them for me to make out…blonde hair.

  “Sere?” I asked, stepping inside. “Is that you?”

  The girl froze and turned to me, confirming my suspicions.

  “What are you doing here?” I said, closing the door behind me. I glanced at the punching bag before glancing at the girl. The answer was obvious enough in hindsight.

  Sere looked oddly guilty. Her cheeks puffed, and she stared down at the ground.

  “I’m not upset or anything, if that’s what you’re worried about. I was just wondering just who would be up this late, and doing this of all things.”

  My gaze flicked over to the punching bag. Just how long had she been at this? And…why? There was a knot in my chest that I tried hard to ignore.

  “You don’t have to do something like this. I told you I wouldn’t let anyone hurt you again, didn’t I? Let’s get some sleep. Come on. I’ll walk you back.”

  She emphatically shook her head. Her shoulders slumped, and she wasn’t even looking at me anymore.

  Sere didn’t need to say a word to give off the impression that I’d said the wrong thing.

  “You- you want to do this?”

  Sere quickly nodded her head.

  Well, just what was I supposed to do about this? I’d had Sere sit in on some of my sparring sessions with Damian and even Estovan, but I hadn’t thought anything of it at the time. If I’d known it would lead to this, I might not have allowed it in the first place.

  “Listen, Sere,” I said. “Learning to defend yourself is one thing. It’s even a good thing that everyone should know how to do, but….”

  Sere shook her head hard.

  I stared at her as she opened her mouth, made a few indistinguishable sounds, and sighed. Tears started to cloud her eyes.

  This must have been really important to her.

  “Okay, Sere. I won’t stop you.” I murmured after a long pause. Children never really listened if you ever told them no. I, myself, was a prime example of this.

  I glanced at the punching bag again. “Now, why don’t you show me what you were doing before?”

  Sere looked genuinely surprised. She waited, as if I was going to take away the permission as quickly as I’d given it. She finally grinned, stepped in front of the punching bag, and raised her arms.

  I didn’t focus on her form. I didn’t even see her throw a punch. From this close to her, I felt it. A ripple in the air, a sense of power. Mana. Sere was channeling mana, and no small quantity of it either. I hadn’t felt this before.

  I blinked as the punching bag recoiled back from the punch I’d missed.

  “Sere…wait. You know you’re using mana, right?”

  Sere slowly nodded.

  “Who taught you?” Had Anias been giving her lessons without telling me? Had Estovan? Hell, had Damian? No, maybe this was something she knew even before we found h-

  “Hmm?”

  She was pointing at my chest insistently.

  “I don’t understand,” I admitted.

  She kept prodding me with her finger, looking mildly frustrated now.

  Only one possibility came to mind, but it was ridiculous. Surely not. “Did you learn by watching?”

  She nodded excitedly. I was surprised I hadn't just fallen over. Sere had just learnt by watching us fight? How was that supposed to work? Anias had commented more than once that I’d taken to mana somewhat quickly, but that had been after she and Estovan had helped me.

  “But that shouldn’t be possible,” I swallowed. “How?” I stared at her.

  She looked away again, staring at the floor. Wait, was that?

  Click.

  My gaze sharpened just slightly. I stared at her hands. Small bruises covered her fists. They hadn’t been there when I’d last seen her.

  “You’ve been having Anias heal you?”

  Sere weakly nodded her head.

  Anias could heal cuts easily enough. Bruises were another thing.

  I would ask Anias about this later, though I could guess what had happened. No doubt Anias had stumbled onto Sere doing this herself and had decided to keep this a secret for the time being. She was oddly considerate sometimes.

  “I’m not upset.” I tried to smile. “Did she teach you anything…more?”

  Sere weakly shook her head, before meeting my gaze again.

  Anias felt compelled to heal Sere without telling me, but didn’t feel compelled to actually teach her without permission then. It was an odd kind of balance, that.

  “I’m not going to stop you.” If Sere had been doing this for days, then what right did I have to say anything?

  I smiled at her before gesturing at the punching bag again. “Let me show you something more then.”

  I let the mana flow through me, feeling its familiar power threaten to sweep me right off my feet. I concentrated as I clenched my fist, willing that power into my hand.

  I stepped forward, swung my hips, and punched. My fist rocketed forward, slamming into the punching bag with a mighty thud. It flew back, swinging until I almost thought the chain holding it in place might break. If I was better at this, it probably would have.

  I caught it as it came back, before looking at Sere.

  “Think you can do that? You have to channel the mana into the right part of yourself. If you go a step beyond that and release some mana, it works even better. It’s…a little hard to explain. Let it just flow and flow. It's like...your fist will feel heavier and lighter at the same time.”

  She nodded slowly, though whether she understood me was anyone's guess.

  “Just focus your mana on your hand. Think of it like- like your mana is another muscle. Another hand or foot. Make it go where you want it to.” A little inelegant, but I thought it got the point across well enough.

  Sere closed her eyes. I felt the girl’s mana. It wasn't the pressing sensation I'd felt before. So, she could somewhat control it, huh?

  She moved and punched the bag. It swung far, but only as far as I had seen it go last time.

  It had taken me a while to get this. A few hours, maybe? Even then, my reinforcement was inefficient according to Estovan. Most people couldn’t afford to be inefficient.

  “That’s okay. It takes a bit to get the hang of this.” I said with a smile. “Honestly, even after all this time, I’m still not very good at this. With the mana I have, everyone says I should be so much stronger-”

  Sere punched the bag again. There was a loud creak as the chain holding the bag in place strained under the pressure of the impact. It swung up, twice as far as it had before. It came down again, and I stepped in front of Sere to grab it. Even on the way down, it had more force behind it than I’d expected.

  There was silence for a few seconds.

  “That- that was some punch, kid,” I murmured, staring at the girl. She was looking down at her own hands in something akin to wonder.

  

  The Godblade whispered. It was odd that a sword could sound contemplative, but that was the impression I got.

  It’s too late to change your mind, Godblade.

  I focused on Sere. A knot twisted inside of me. It broke my heart to look at her.

  Even from this demonstration, it was obvious that Sere was a talented girl. Her own mother had never seen it in her, or Sere would have never been in that alley in the first place.

  It made me angry just thinking about it. So angry, I was fuming.

  Click. Click.

  Sere looked up at me, puzzled. More than a little sensitive, too, huh?

  “Let’s do this every day, okay? Preferably when the sun is still up.”