“Hell” was the only word to describe it. Flames danced around the edges of the room, trapping its inhabitants. The air was thick with heat and smoke. The disgusting stench of burning overpowered everything as a toppled liquor cabinet combusted. As they all cowered, coughing and scrambling for relief as the smoke stifled their lungs, he stood, defiant, his thirst for vengeance burning hotter than everything around him.

  Felhart Dogaria. The dream piercer. The man whose arm had become an instrument to fulfil his desires. Steam evaporated from it as he swung it high, then brought it low, shifting into a stance to charge forward and pierce his foe. The white-hot lance of vengeance burned, flames pouring from it, searching for something to set alight — for him.

  Marinus Roslet. The only man who stood against him. All that was visible through the smoke was his silhouette, which seemed to morph as he stared down his enemy, his friend. Great wings sprouted from his back, dark and bat-like, and beat furiously, wafting the smoke out of the room. As it cleared, he stepped towards Felhart, placing a clawed hand on the steaming lance. The burning metal sizzled at his touch, but did not penetrate the thick scales that now made up the skin of his arm.

  “What is…” Felhart began, brought out of his rage temporarily by confusion, trailing off as he took in the appearance of his foe.

  “The barghest is a beast of folklore. In accordance with this, the one who blessed me with power fittingly gave me mastery over folklore itself.” Marinus had changed. Where once stood an imposing but ultimately human man, there was now a being taller and stronger, with the wings and claw of a dragon.

  He looked at Exon. “It wasn’t you… was it? I remember a girl who looked like you. I need to thank her for the opportunity she gave me.”

  “No, it wasn’t me. You probably mean my sister.” She seemed to recoil from his attitude as he revelled in his strength.

  “No matter. I’ve made up my mind. I knew this day would come, Felhart, old friend. All along, I’ve been waiting for a sign from Grandfather. Something to tell me I’ve been doing the right thing. Well, here you are. I feel so much lighter, truly.”

  His boasting enraged Felhart once more. He wrenched his lance-arm free from Felhart’s claw and suddenly stepped in to attack. Marinus suddenly turned into water, the lance harmlessly passing through his body. “Come now, that’s impolite. You really shouldn’t be involving all these innocent people in our squabble. Ah, but… Egrid, why are you…?”

  He had remained by Riina’s side, watching events play out between his master and Felhart. Being addressed, he suddenly stood up straight, clearing his throat, and attempted to appeal to the younger man.

  “Commander Roslet. This young woman has shown me the error of my ways. I thought that the way to atone for allowing you to stray down this path was to give up my life for someone who could knock some sense into you, but I was mistaken. I see now that my purpose is to mend the rift between you and your former friend.”

  “I couldn’t agree more, Egrid. I have no desire to fight Felhart. His hatred is unrequited.”

  Tanbrae shook his head.

  “No. His grievances with you are justified. You, and I, forsook him. And I forsook you, Commander. No… Marinus. For that, I can only apologise. But you are both young men still. You have the rest of your lives ahead of you in which to be each other’s companion once more.” He addressed Felhart too. “I beg you, both of you. Take your frustrations out on me if you must. I am an old man, after all, with only a few years of life left in me. But do not fight against one another. The one responsible for how your paths diverged… the only one you need to hate is me.”

  “I hate both of you.” Felhart lunged with his lance, the wickedly-sharp tip directed at Tanbrae’s chest. It was interrupted by Marinus’ other hand, which had quickly transformed into a dragon’s claw. The spike plowed through him, searing flesh as it split his right arm in two up to his elbow. Marinus grimaced, but held his position.

  “F-Felhart! This old man’s not your enemy! Actually, I agree with him… We haven’t known each other long, but something doesn’t feel right about this. I don’t think you’ll gain anything from killing Marinus.” Riina spoke out, desperate to avoid pointless bloodshed.

  “Riina…” Luun smiled sadly, giving Riina a look that seemed to say “I know where you’re coming from, but…”

  “Then, are all of you my enemy?” Wrenching his lance free from the wreckage of Marinus’ arm, he whirled around, staring manically at the faces of those he had recruited in his quest for vengeance.

  “… You’re paying us to do a job, so we’ll do it. But are you really sure this is what you want? I know all there is to know about that lance of yours, now. I can see what it means. It exists only to kill this man. I understand why that would make you feel like it’s your destiny. But Riina’s right, it doesn’t have to be.” Haritte boldly declared the group’s intentions, his voice firm as he fixed his gaze on Felhart.

  Felhart stood still for a while, as if calculating his next move. Finally, he brandished his lance once more, surrounding himself, Tanbrae, and Marinus with flames which reached the ceiling, an impenetrable perimeter. The others were shut out, watching helplessly as the stage for the final battle was set.

  “… Luun, can you make some shields? We need to get through that wall of fire. I… I want to keep my promise.”

  “I can’t guarantee how well they’ll withstand that fire. If it’s some kind of Fire Element Magic, my Sigils probably won’t hold up for long. But I’ll do it.” Luun nodded in assent to Riina’s plan and began her preparations. Soon enough, the familiar, intricate patterns of blue light covered Riina and Luun.

  “But what about-“ Exon began, but Haritte pulled her away.

  “We need to find a way to steer this thing. No one’s getting out of here alive if we crash at this speed and angle.”

  He was right. Though it had been unnoticeable over the course of the time they’d been in the room, the Black Barghest tilted at a worrying angle. It was good to know that Orlan had succeeded, but the ship was picking up speed as it flew — no, fell — towards the City below. The impact would almost definitely kill everyone inside, to say nothing of the people living below. Nodding in agreement, Exon followed Haritte as they rushed to find the bridge.

  Unauthorized duplication: this narrative has been taken without consent. Report sightings.

  Mark Reling was a man to whom nothing interesting had ever happened. He had never won the lottery, but he had never been burgled. He had never been in a fight and gotten away with just a scar, and he had never been in a fight and lost something precious. He was an extremely minor member of the City Parliament, with effectively no jurisdiction whatsoever, and spent his time sitting on the back benches, contributing very little and earning a comfortable but not extraordinary wage. In his free time, nothing he did was out of the ordinary. He exercised frequently, ate healthily, and watched the news, as well as whatever TV programme was currently popular.

  As such, when the Sun was blotted out and the section of Ward 1 in which he was taking his lunch break — a flat and open park with benches crowded full of likeminded business and politicians — was cast in shadow, as he looked up to see the source of the disturbance, his first thought was this:

  Finally, something interesting is happening to me.

  He knew it was sensible to run, and maybe even to scream a little in fear like everyone around him was doing, but the idea of narrowly escaping the impact of the ship that fell lazily towards his approximate location, leaving him with some lasting reminder of the incident, filled him with excitement. And so, as the plummeting ship began to fill the sky above him, he strategically positioned himself, running to one corner of the park to await its arrival. As it eclipsed everything, it filled his mind and shut out everything else. He barely registered a motorcade of black vehicles, windows tinted dark, pulling up on the abandoned road behind him.

  As Riina and Luun waded through the wall of fire, desperately hoping they would be protected for long enough to reach the other side, they heard sounds of fighting. Steel clashed with steel, ringing out in the chamber. As they reached the interior of the flame wall, a nightmare unfolded before them.

  It was a three-way battle. As Felhart and Marinus furiously and relentlessly clashed, the lance striking the clawed dragon’s hand, Tanbrae desperately tried to intervene. In one moment, one would catch the other in a vulnerable position and move in for the kill. Tanbrae would divert their attack, his battle-weary katana parrying them over and over again.

  Felhart’s lance aimed for Marinus’ chest, but a summoned draconic wing shielded it. The lance punctured the wing, and the leathery dragonhide began to burn like paper as the heat from the lance continued to intensify. Felhart pulled back, readjusting for another attack as Marinus grimaced in pain.

  Felhart drove his lance forward. As usual, Tanbrae stepped in to intercept. His katana crossed the lance, blocking it. And then… shattered. The overwhelming force of the lance destroyed it entirely, splintering the blade into dozens of pieces and leaving Tanbrae frozen, holding nothing but a broken hilt. Losing no momentum, Felhart continued onward. But an obstacle was in the way. No matter. He went through it.

  The lance screamed with heat as it gouged through the old man’s thin body, pushing through his abdomen with no resistance. The sickening smell of burning flesh filled the air. Marinus stepped backwards, evading the pursuing lance as it became wedged in Tanbrae’s dying form. Blood poured freely from the old man’s mouth as his organs were incinerated. The heat spread through his body and destroyed everything it came across.

  Riina and Luun were frozen. They had been unable to act, too slow to intervene. They were rooted in place, watching, transfixed. A silent scream erupted from Riina’s mouth, and tears poured from her eyes.

  “I ho…pe… this… makes… you… fe…el… bett…er.” Tanbrae struggled to get his last words out, spitting out blood that rushed to replace dripping blood, choking as his body shut down. Felhart retracted his lance from the old man’s body and stared down at him as he collapsed to the floor. At long last, Riina found the words she wanted to say.

  “… Felhart. I don’t know what exactly that man did to you. I won’t tell you you didn’t have the right to hate him. I won’t even say you didn’t have the right to kill him. But at the end there, he was trying to save you from yourself. When we fought, he wanted me to prove I could stop you from going down a path you’d regret. I’m the one who convinced him to stop you himself. … In the end,” Her voice cracked as she choked back a sob. “In the end, it’s my fault he died. So I guess it’s up to me after all. I don’t want to believe that there’s no future where the two of you can heal the trauma that exists between you. I have to make that future. That’s why I’m here.”

  “I honestly wasn’t expecting this. That leader of yours, Orlan. If he were here right now, would he be backing you up or telling you to shut up and put your head down?” Felhart demanded to know.

  “… He’d agree with us. No matter what impression you might have formed of him, he’s someone who cares about the people around him. Even though we’ve only known each other for a few hours, he wouldn’t want to stand by and let you self-destruct like this.” Luun spoke up, putting a hand on her chest and passionately describing her friend.

  “Then I won’t hold back. I mean it this time, I won’t tell you to stay out of my way. I’m going to finish you both quickly and get back to fighting my real enemy.” Felhart turned towards the two girls, brandishing the steaming lance.

  “Spitting in the face of a young woman’s feelings is beyond crass. Haven’t you learned anything in the years we were apart?” Marinus chimed in, sneering.

  “You stay out of this. I’ll get back to you in a moment.” Touching his lance to the floor, Felhart created a second wall of flames, cutting off Marinus and hemming Riina and Luun in with him. “You’re the bigger threat. I’ll start with you.” He said, and suddenly charged towards Luun. Riina stepped in front of her friend just as blue light surrounded the two of them. The flaming lance bounced off the shield of Magic Energy, rebounding and sending Felhart a few paces backwards. However, the impact of that attack was enough. The shield surrounding Riina cracked and shattered, dissipating into the smoky air.

  “Ngh… I’m just about at my limit… Riina, can we really do this?”

  “It’s okay. We just have to knock some sense into him. Don’t worry about protecting me anymore, just focus on yourself.”

  “Haah… I can’t do that, see? Because you’re my friend. I don’t want to stand here and watch you die, even if I know you can come back.” With that, the blue glow surrounded Riina once more. Words were no longer needed. Riina and Luun simply nodded at each other, and prepared to counter Felhart’s next assault.

  He lunged, the barbed tip of the lance cleaving through the smoke like an arrow shot from darkness. Riina was ready. She would take the attack head-on, letting her shield break, and then hit back with all her might.

  However, she never had the opportunity. As the lance approached her, seeming to move in slow motion, a colossal impact knocked her off her feet. Her vision moved sideways as the floor beneath her upended itself. Her head hit something solid, hard, and her vision began to fade. As her consciousness retreated, she saw a beautiful girl with blue and red hair lying a short distance away. Surprisingly, she was able to move her left arm. It was surprising, because her right arm didn’t feel like anything. Tilting her head as much as possible, she figured out why. The roof had caved in and buried it. Still, she moved her left arm, reaching out towards the girl who, now that she thought about it, hadn’t had that colour of dye in her hair before.

  She didn’t reach her. Her fingertips brushed a lock of blue hair, but that was as far as she got. Her vision narrowed to a pinprick, and then disappeared altogether. As her mind followed suit, she cursed herself.

  What a loser. You fucked up.