Anxiety ran rampant inside Quin.

  To his right, an unconscious Onyl, and in front of him, three hostile Sentar’i with an axe to grind. He had to deal with one but couldn’t leave the other alone. He remained paralyzed.

  “You cloaks think y’all can do wha’eva you want, huh?” their brutish leader asked. “Y’all think since you have the Deckuson in y’all corner, you can go ‘round ‘n’ tell folks how to live their lives.”

  In the periphery of Quin’s vision, he saw Onyl hoisted off the ground and pulled out of sight, likely a result of Conon and his [Ghost Chain].

  “It’s ‘Dequsan’,” he corrected with Onyl over his shoulder. “And yur right, they are ‘n our corner. They support us so we can stop thugs like you from runnin’ roughshod.

  “Now you up ‘n’ attack us after we let you off? You know what’s gonna happen right?”

  “We do don’ we?” she answered. “We ‘bout to beat y’all bloody, then if wer ‘n a good mood, we’ll return you back to y’all ownas for a good price. How’sat for ya?”

  Silence took over as the two groups looked at one another. The narrow rocky paths brought them all close, too close. In the distance, varied trees jutted out over nearby hills.

  The groups waited for their moments to act. Quin, who wanted to get closer to safety, took a small step back.

  The ruffians pounced. Quin and Conon jumped back to give themselves some space, their opponents had none of it.

  They pressed up against the two Tyrovivs and kept on the offensive. Their female leader went after Quin, her two male relatives jumped after Conon.

  Quin for his part, kept up with the large lady. Her attacks were continuously deflected or blocked.

  He even set himself up to dodge her strikes and force her to hit the rock walls. With every miss, the woman gritted her teeth in irritation.

  Conon however had a harder time on his end. He tried to fend off two attackers with one arm. It proved unsuccessful.

  He tried to use his [Chain] to keep them at bay, but his luck dropped when one of them grabbed it and tried to yank him to them.

  The chain faded away when Conon negated it, but now he left himself at the mercy of the two brothers.

  With Onyl on his shoulder, Conon became virtually helpless. He was struck back and forth from both sides. His two opponents took turns to kick or punch him until a hook kick sent him off his feet.

  Both he and Onyl landed on the sloped earth as they rolled down into a small crevice effectively taken out of the fight.

  It turned into a completely different scenario compared to their first meeting. Before, the Tyrovivs were able to handle the three brutes with relative ease.

  Now, things appeared dicey with Quin left to himself.

  The situation wasn’t entirely bad though. With no allies nearby, he could unleash his wind arts without friendly fire.

  As his opponents surrounded him, he had the perfect chance to shove them all away.

  He brought his arms up to his chest, felt the aura that charged within him. He mentally dared them to step closer as he saw light smoke flow out of him.

  Once they closed in, he popped his arms out and let his gust attacks clear the area. Just a light breeze emerged from his hands however.

  The only movement made by his enemies were the clothes on their bodies.

  Shocked, Quin tried again, and again, and again. Only small flurries came out of his hands. It couldn’t have been a worse time for his powers to betray him.

  The woman produced a smug smile. “Did you stan’ out yesterday or sump’in? Or maybe yur just that dumb. Wind arts won’ do you any good ‘n tight spaces.”

  Quin didn’t believe her as he continued to produce small whiffs of air. Soon, he stopped and concern started to creep into his head.

  Out of the three Tyrovivs, he had the least experience. He couldn’t hold his own in a spar with more opponents. Worst of all, the one weapon he had in his pocket suddenly became dull. What could he do?

  He could try to talk his way to a resolution, he thought, but the brutes had all the leverage, he realized. He could hold them off til his teammates returned, he imagined, but how long would he last, especially without his wind arts, he wondered.

  As the ruffians slowly approached, one solution remained in his head.

  With his wind arts ineffective, Quin used his legs. He charged toward the two brothers. His foes just stood there, perfectly content to let Quin run into their fists.

  Right when they lunged at him however, he dropped down.

  Underneath their swung arms, Quin slid knees first between his enemies. No longer surrounded, he skipped up the rock wall and bolted up the heights. No one followed.

  “What are y’all doin’?! Go afta him!” the woman barked as she approached the crevice Onyl and Conon fell into. “The price won’ be as high if we don’ have all of ‘em. Now GO!”

  The two brothers complied and rushed up the hill.

  Quin wanted to prove he could contribute to the team, his flight proved anything but. If he stayed though, he would very likely lose and him as well as his teammates would face a huge humiliation.

  As much as he didn’t want to, he had no choice but to find Ythan. If anyone could salvage this disaster, surely the blue cloak could. Quin just had to reach him.

  Even with his head start, the gap between Quin and his pursuers closed fast. If he could reach the top of the hill in time, he’ll be able to reach the Neraviv, whose help would be gladly needed. Far from a preferable option, he had no other.

  His opponents caught up to him and matched his speed. They flanked him on both sides, yet neither man attacked. Finally, to his left, the long haired man made a move.

  Quin prepared himself to defend but it was a fake out. It left him wide open on the other side.

  He felt a foot plant itself across his back. Quin’s rapid climb up the hill became a quick tumble down.

  When it came to fights, the Cosondera were at their best thanks to their skillful teamwork and focus on defense.

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  With those two tools, they could make quick work out of any aggressor, even with stark differences in experience.

  If those tools were out of the equation, the fight could quickly devolve and turn into a struggle. Quin became a witness to such a dilemma. He had no answers. He had no fix.

  Gravity finally done with him, Quin dropped into a heavily forested area. He couldn’t move let alone get up; he struggled and crawled before he could return to his feet.

  As he tried to reorient himself, he made a quick observation of his surroundings.

  The trees, though skinny were packed practically right next to one another. The branches clawed at each another in his attempt to open a path.

  He barely had enough space to pass by. It sort of reminded him of the stacked rocks from the previous day with how little he could maneuver. That’s when he had an idea.

  The brothers descended from the hills and swam through the sea of trees to reach Quin. He kept himself away for as long as he could until they caught up to him.

  Their assault began but as much as they targeted Quin, they struck everything else.

  His close quarters training came into play. Just like his spar with Conon, Quin used graceful movements to get around his opponents.

  He turned and pivoted around the small tress whenever one enemy went for an attack. All the dodges lead the aggressors to strike other trees or even the wrong person.

  The bearded man kept his eyes on Quin when a fist met his face.

  “G’ahh! Stop hittin’ me!” he demanded of his brother.

  Quin weaved between the trees as if he engaged in a dance routine all while his chasers continued to assail each other with every miss.

  “Damnit! I told you, Stop!”

  As much as they aimed for him, their punches went to the other by accident. More and more, the brothers inadvertently struck each other. Soon, accidents became intentions.

  The bearded man, visibly agitated, turned red in the face. After one jab too many at the nose, he recovered and went after his relative.

  He grabbed the long hair of his brother and used his free hand to swing wildly. “I. Said. Stop. HITTIN’ ME!” he lashed between wallops until his brother flumped down, unable to get back up.

  The two pursuers became one momentarily as he resumed his chase after Quin.

  Just ahead of the mini trees laid an open field. If Quin could make it out, he would be free from the restrictive area and make his next move.

  The two were about to reach their respective destinations at the same time. Neither could bolt across like they would without several trees to hinder them; they had to make use of small but rapid steps.

  Quin hurried as much as he could to the field, but the man behind him followed his trail. He felt the nails of a desperate hand behind him as it tried to grab him.

  The stretched arm clasped a tree instead and he made it out of the heavy woods.

  With the hills to his left, a large boulder to his right, and open field before his eyes, Quin at last had his chance.

  He took three steps out before he made an abrupt stop and charged his aura. More smoke flowed out this time.

  He felt that heat of energy as it surged to his arm. He readied himself against his chaser.

  As soon as the man made it out of the forest, Quin jutted out his arm and gave the fullest degree of his [Gust Attack].

  The man had nowhere to dodge with trees to his left and right. His forward movement was violently knocked back, he and several trees behind him toppled over in the storm.

  Caught in a tangle of fallen arbor, Quin’s opponent couldn’t get up.

  Down went the two pursuers while Quin remained upright. On this occasion, he found a way to get the better of multiple foes. He couldn’t help but celebrate the moment.

  It was the briefest of moments.

  Out of nowhere, Quin was shoved aside by another [Gust].

  He turned into a projectile until he crashed side first onto the boulder.

  In the clash between body and rock, rock prevailed. Quin’s body thudded the boulder with such force that he flipped over before he hit the ground.

  From shin to shoulder, Quin’s entire side was engulfed in pain.

  The experience reminded him of his leg injury years ago. Much like then, he couldn’t move his affected limb while any slight movement created excruciating pain.

  All his brain received were the wails of his nerves. He clenched his arm, the only movement he could make as agony took control of his other senses.

  Yards away strolled the large woman who looked over at the mess of trees to see her brothers gingerly approach her.

  “Will y’all hurry up ‘n’ get ova here!” she commanded.

  “Wh...what happened to the utha two?” asked her bearded relative.

  “Neva mind those two, how ‘bout y’all two? I told y’all to git one guy. I hafta come ova here and carry y’all again...like always.” She sighed. “Well, we’ll jus’ get this one ‘n’ see what we’ll make.”

  Quin finally managed to move, but pain was still the only feeling he recognized. His body brushed up the grass beneath him as he slowly dragged away.

  He tried to create distance between himself and the ruffians who leisurely inched toward him.

  “I kno’ you cloaks ‘n masks don’ really matta much when it’s all said ‘n’ done, but maybe yur friends’ll care enough to pay up ‘n’ git you back,” the woman proposed with curled lips.

  “If not, well, I guess that means they don’ care ‘bout you ‘n’ we can do pretty much whateva we want to ya. I wonder which’ll happen?”

  The humiliation would never end for Quin if he ended up as a hostage. It would never end for his teammates either, even after the obvious break up.

  Whatever challenge awaited them, they seemed determined to meet it head on. No matter the test, they’d give it their best.

  How devastated would they be if they failed before that test even began? Quin could never face them again after such a blunder.

  Half circled by the ruffians, his own fate appeared uncertain. His first week as a Cosondere shaped up to be his worst week ever.

  The brothers leaned in to grab Quin when they each had a [Ghost Chain] wrapped around their torsos.

  Before they could react, the brothers were yanked off the ground and up to the sky before those same chains snagged them out of the air.

  Their leader’s eyes widened in fear, she recognized trouble when she felt it. She turned to face her opponents. Trouble confronted her hard and it had a name: Onyl.

  Surprisingly, no signs of rage could be seen on her face. In fact, her face remained largely devoid of emotion. That expression was offset by relentless aggression.

  Onyl swung her fists with precision and tenacity. Her enemy couldn’t keep up with the hands and became overwhelmed.

  Onyl’s puppet joined the pummel party as it constantly protruded out the ground to bash the woman.

  A staccato of strikes it was. Each shot came immediately after the other. Even when the woman became defenseless, Onyl gave no slack.

  Finally, she spaced herself back, slightly bent her front leg, then snapped her back leg at the leader’s jaw to launch her into the air.

  She barreled right to her brothers, already down on the ground. They were all slow to move.

  The advantage they enjoyed earlier came to an end. Their chances of victory plummeted now that the Tyrovivs reunited. Once more, The Cosondera showed their mettle.

  Conon rummaged the inside of his cloak until he found a small ball. He lightly tossed it and upon contact with the ground, it exuded a purple gas that traveled to the sky.

  Quin managed to make it to one knee when his allies surrounded him instead of his enemies.

  “How you feelin’?” asked Conon.

  “I feel like something broke,” Quin replied as he slowly rose. “Ahh, I’m just glad you showed up. How’d you find me?”

  “We saw a bunch of trees fall ‘n’ we thought that’s where the action was.”

  “This was my fault,” said Onyl. “Had I not dropped my guard, there would have been no ambush. I put you in a bad position and I apologize for the oversight.”

  Quin’s mask hid his surprise. The interactions he had with her gave an impression that she’d pick people apart for their flaws. While mostly true, it seemed that also included herself.

  “Mistakes’ll happen,” Conon said. “It’s what you do after that shows who you are. Onyl, you know yur alright wit’ me. We work together, we pick each other up.

  “As for you Quin, I think you held yer own pretty good all things considered. You gave yer best efforts ‘n’ at the end of the day, that’s what a team needs most of all.

  “We need a lil more polish, but I’m startin’ to think this squad can go places. Hopefully, we actually will.”

  The team bondship came to an end when the three ruffians started to get up.

  “Nah, it’s too late to leave now,” Conon told them before he pointed at the smoke signal. “I asked if you knew what would happen. Yur gonna find out.”

  “We ain’t interested ‘n waitin’ fer that,” their leader said. “We’ll neva be interested ‘n what you cloaks do.”

  “Your opinions are meaningless,” Onyl interjected with dagger eyes. “You will be apprehended and dealt with...effectually.”

  “Y’all haven’t ‘dealt wit’ anything. Wer still here. Wer still ready.”

  The fight looked prime for a round two. Quin’s side still smarted but he now had his teammates beside him.

  The two groups stood across from one another ready to go when a small black dot appeared over the ruffians head. Then it gradually widened.

  As soon as their heads turned to the sky, their bodies smashed against the earth. A great force crashed into them from above and brought the fight to a sudden end.

  Dust and an echoing thud filled the air in front of the Tyrovivs. Once it cleared, a lone figure could be seen over the troublemakers.

  With his blue cloak drooped over him from the fall, Ythan rose from his crouch.

  Crushed under his sheer presence, the band of brutes laid immobile and unresponsive. He paid them no mind as he focused on his three subordinates.

  “Let’s go,” he told them. “We have a mission.”