I managed maybe five minutes in the infirmary before I had to head out to my match. Thankfully, I heal so much faster than everyone else. Alright, that’s a lie. Nexus energy works extremely slowly on me, and I feel like a sock with a rip at the pinky toe. The war hammer on my back actually feels a little heavy, for once. My head isn’t in an amazing place either. As I wait for my gate to open, I can’t get Autumn’s voice out of my mind. Fight like there are people counting on me. I feel like an idiot. A selfish idiot. I was caught up in the knowledge that I am not particularly special, however some dumbass prophecy wants to portray me. The knowledge that I don’t want to inflate my personal importance when everyone who is left will be able to keep fighting without me. I forgot that, on a personal level, people still need me. I brought the twins here with one other person who holds them in contempt. If I die, I leave them alone in a land that wants them dead. I leave them with no friends, completely vulnerable.

  And that’s not the only way Autumn needs me. She needs me for the same reason I need her. We need someone to grieve with us, for my brother. Neither of us can be alone in it. To share the grief, and to share the guilt. The pain felt so vindicating. All this time I let myself get hurt. Like I was taking it on Henry’s behalf. I felt so cold and deserving of pain, and it made me feel warm again to accept it. But it was just a distraction. A lie. Causing pain in one place to distract my body from another. Punishment for leaving my brother to die? No. It was an indulgence. Self-absorbed indulgence. Nothing more, and Autumn is right. Henry would be horrified by it. So today, I make the decision. As the gate opens, I promise myself. I will fight back from the start. I won’t accept pain I don’t need just to feel better about myself. I will let myself hurt in the right way, for a while. The real way. The hurt that turns me to ice.

  I tune out the announcer as I enter the arena. I’ve become bored with him, as his attempts to rile up the crowd are all the same and I lack interest in aiding him in doing so. Fortunately, ignoring him leans into the ‘Demon Queen’ persona enough that Markus hasn’t complained yet. I do quickly regret my failure to pay attention, however, as I am met with not one opponent but half a dozen. Two of every sapient species I know of. They obviously aren’t seasoned gladiators, but they don’t look untrained either. They all stand near each other, facing me. I’m not getting ‘battle royale’ vibes from this set-up. I suppose watching me tank a bunch of nonlethal hits then beat my opponents with one hit was probably getting boring. No one will make any profitable bets if every fight ends the same way. I did expect they would do something like this eventually but damn. What a day for it. Well, it’s fine. Looks like they aren’t throwing me directly into the deep end. I can beat these guys

  I crack my knuckles while waiting for the fight to start. Maybe if I finish this quickly I can get some rest in the infirmary and recover from the night I had. The announcer marks the beginning of the match and my opponents all run toward me, confirming my suspicions. It’s me against all six of them. The two volu launch into the air, but only a little, flying low and within reach if I put my strength behind a jump. The invisible ceiling of the arena must work both ways, keeping the battle contained and preventing avian combatants from running. The ailur fall to all fours and approach me far more quickly than the human combatants, who brandish what look like machetes. I move my hand to my head and crack my neck, relieving a little tension before my opponents reach me.

  I take the hammer off my back, solid steel prepared to, ever so gently, pummel anyone who gets too close. Except, as the first volu dives at me, I freeze. I see his taloned fingers extending toward me. I can block them easily. I promised myself I would try. I promised Autumn. I was just reminding myself how selfish and self-indulgent I was being before. I see Henry in the old building. Smiling. Joking with me. Left alone to die in a spell I failed to stop. Talons tear into my cheek, leaving an open, bleeding gash and flaps of skin. Why did I take that attack? Claws from an ailur are coming at me now, and I take a step back. Then I see Henry again. The claws burrow into my exposed stomach.

  Get it together Lily, you are better than this. Another swipe. Another cut. All four non-human opponents take turns scoring flesh wounds. Despite seeing each one coming. Despite my resolution to stop letting them, I do nothing. Finally, the humans catch up. A sword swings at me and I side-step it with little effort. Talons rake down my back. The other sword swings toward my neck and I duck it. Claws dig into my left shoulder. When my life is in danger, I avoid it. When my secrets are in danger, I dodge. I am never hit by a machete. My steel limbs always move in time to avoid revealing anything to my enemies.

  I feel pathetic. I know that I can end this now. I know I am making the choice, over and over again, to take the damage when I know I can survive it. A human man’s foot collides with my ribcage, knocking me into the dirt. I roll out of the way of the sword that follows me, leaving it to slash at the dirt. As I do the other man’s boot lands in the same spot on my side, stomping in my ribs and causing several to loudly crack. I can end this. I can end this now. But I don’t. I let the abuse rain down on me. Punishing me exactly as Autumn said. Why? Why am I letting them do this? I wasn’t going to! Why am I so weak? Why am I such an idiot? This continues for far too long. My weak will and self-indulgence leaving me broken, bruised, and bloody.

  I have to stop this. I have to stop it. I need to think of the people who are counting on me. As I taste blood, I clench my fists and force myself to my feet. I will fight back. A talon flies at me and I catch it, swinging the attached volu around and tossing him away, leaving him panicking in the air. An ailur woman swipes again and I let her draw more blood. I block a kick from the sky with my right arm. I scramble to recover my discarded hammer and block a sword strike. I take a punch. I block two attacks. I accept another. I block four the next time before I allow one to hurt me. It’s like I’ve trained myself to take the punishment and I have to consciously deny that instinct. But with every breath, I fight harder. Not against my enemies, but against my own failings. I shouldn’t be hurting for Henry. I should be fighting for him. Finally, although I resemble a cut of meat in a butcher’s shop, I scream and grip my hammer, swinging out with visible force, buying some distance and time to think.

  A case of content theft: this narrative is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.

  I won’t do this anymore. I am fighting back, and I am not going to stop. I grit my teeth and flex my left arm. “This is over,” I whisper. I take exactly one step forward and the world goes dark. Not pitch black, but dark as a summer night. A shroud has filled the sky like the day has just ended and every torch and enchanted light stone in the city has been extinguished. But there are no stars. Just dark. And it’s not the sky. All seven of us freeze as we realize this. The black mantle stops, just where the walls around us end. Whatever this is, it’s cutting us off from the audience. I see no mana. I feel no aura of power. Either this is caused by someone with an aspect like mine, or this is divine magic.

  I relax my grip. This is no longer a fight for an adoring audience. This is something else. Could it be Markus? He did promise to protect me if it looked like I would die, but the timing would be strange for that. Doing this right when I finally pull myself together and rise above my own wallowing. I was obviously just about to fight back, so why would he step in now? It’s also more than a bit conspicuous. Actually, this timing doesn’t make much sense unless the involved sage specifically didn’t want me to win. The moment I realize this, my suspicion is confirmed in the most horrifying way I could imagine.

  I feel the tell tale throbbing of nexus energy trying to control me. Thankfully, even while my grief mana fails to empower me, it still denies external control. Unless I allow or agree with the effects of the nexus magic, it can’t do anything to me directly. It denies external control over me, in any case. The other six combatants aren’t nearly so lucky. The divine mana takes them, and it ruins them. One man rapidly expands, exploding into some fleshy facsimile of a gorilla. Except he lacks skin. His muscles and tendons are on full display, and I can see the entirety of his jaw, now sporting razor sharp teeth. The transformation is sudden and violent. Based on the agonized screams, it is painful as well. And he’s not the only one. The other human man is compressed. Crunched with sickening snaps and spurting blood, until he forms into something like a boar but on the two powerful legs of a rabbit. He is half the size he was a moment ago and the transition wasn’t kind to him.

  The others undergo similar but less drastic changes. The ailur both end up looking something like badly abused panthers while the volu take the form of massive vultures with too many legs. I’m not sure why the humans got unique forms while the others matched each other, but I don’t have time to think about it. I have a familiar and sick feeling rushing through my veins. I have been here before. I have faced this before. The first time I entered the Radiant Woods. Innocent and tortured people, their bodies taken from them, eyes trained on me in desperation. A building tension in the air shatters and suddenly six sources of grief consume me, flooding me with empowered mana. No, this isn’t Markus. This is someone else entirely. Someone I hate far more.

  “Is this the fucking Collector? Turn them back. I swear to Christ if you don’t turn them back this instant I will peel your skin from your skull when I find you!” I demand.

  “The Collector. Am I? I wouldn’t say so, but I suppose that’s a matter of perspective.”

  What’s that supposed to mean? Where is the voice coming from? “I said change them back!” I shout.

  “You want me to change people back. I want you to let go of Sarafyna. Or rather, I want Sarafyna to let go of you.”

  “Oh fuck you. The fuck does Sara have to do with this?” I call out.

  “She. Is. Mine. And you are holding her back.”

  “She is her own, you fucking douchebag! Do you really think you can control her? She’ll hurt you more than I ever could!” I retort.

  “She would, you’re right. She is . . . beautiful that way. Powerful. And you are a weight around her neck. Keeping her weak. Keeping her . . . enslaved. To you. If she could let go of you, she could kill every sage in this world on her own. But she won’t. No matter what I say. No matter what I do. She insists on tying you here. Digging you into the skin of this world like a stubborn splinter, long past your expiration date. That ends here.”

  “The only thing ending here is you,” I snarl, “That is, if you have the balls to show your damn face. If you aren’t too much of a coward.”

  “A coward. A coward indeed. Missing her precious big brother. Shriveling like a snail under salt. Hurting yourself. Hurting your friends. Hurting my Sarafyna. I’ve been watching you. Coward is exactly the word I would use for your pathetic behavior. You are wasting Sarafyna’s power. You are wasting her on your little tantrum.”

  I take a sharp breath through my nose. I hate when assholes say things that are true. I hate it when creeps are right about me. But that’s through no fault of his. It’s my fault. It’s my own whimpering and wallowing that gave that insult teeth. But I am done with that bullshit. There remain people in this world who deserve pain far more than I. “Well. Not anymore. Show your face and I guarantee you, I won’t hold anything back,” I reply.

  “No time for that, I’m afraid. Spend time with my new friends, instead. Good luck surviving them. They aren’t the petty enemies you were fighting a few moments ago. And they aren’t going to hold back.”

  I want to scream at him. Challenge him again. Nail him to the ground and make him explain everything I don’t understand. But he’s right again. I don’t have time. His newest victims are charging me, and I can read my death in their eyes. But I’m not as weak as the creature they were fighting before either.