Rafe had not seen Celene in a long time, at least on his end. It turned out something weird had happened, but he stopped questioning it the moment he had confirmation.

  “How long's it been since I killed all those people that one night?” he asked Cynthia.

  She frowned, and Celene did as well. He had called out her name, but then he'd said nothing else as he waited for the others to arrive. Then he'd spoken to Cynthia even though Celene had been there too.

  “A little over five years,” Cynthia replied, the others joining them quietly.

  Rafe did not let himself frown. He just looked up to the sky, closed his eyes, and breathed heavily.

  “What, how can that surprise you? Did you have no idea how long you've been traveling? What did that Noid fella do? Where is that —”

  “Doesn't matter,” he interrupted her tirade. “All that matters now is that Annie and Sylpha are in trouble. Tell me what you know.”

  “Jonathan and Kayle left Hossford three days ago to storm the capital,” Cynthia said.

  “Maria went with them too, and her sister, and my master, and a couple of the more experienced mercenaries,” Celene said, continuing for her. “The village was evacuated, everyone and their families put up in reputable inns in Hossford city, spread out enough to make it hard to pick them off if it came to that.”

  Rafe looked at her with what he hoped was an obvious question in his eyes.

  “She received a letter inviting her to my home in the merchant district,” Jasmine stated. “Same with Cynthia. Don't know how we got close enough to be inviting each other to our homes without notice, but here we are. It was an obvious trap. The Ellans had waited for the guild master and his friend to leave the city before they made a move on us.”

  Rafe nodded, allowed himself to process all the information given, then turned to face the road he'd been following. He addressed Cynthia.

  “I don't know the road to Grayward City. I've made do with following caravans and the like for a while, but I need a better guide if I'm to make good time.”

  “Sure, we'll go with you,” it was Celene who offered.

  Rafe battled his instinct to reject her offer. If anything, it was safer for her at his side. He nodded and started to trudge off.

  “Do you have a horse?” Cynthia asked, eyeing some of the surviving raptors that were edging into the woods and further away.

  “Don't need one.”

  And he didn't. When his stamina was almost depleted, when he felt his body was on the verge of breakdown, it somehow always found the energy to go on. It was almost like the lower his stamina got, the higher his stamina recovery was. He just might have a skill that turned him into some kind of endurance warrior if he could train it right. This was an opportunity.

  “Let's go. I'll shadow you from the woods,” he said.

  ****

  Jonathan Wilde knew he was in trouble the moment the shadows had started to move. He wasn't afraid for his own life, he was sure he could survive. His friends though, with the exception of Kayle.

  But none of them died. The knives were held to their throats, threats, but nothing more.

  “If you lower your weapons and allow yourselves to be captured like good little boys, I'll allow your companions to survive.”

  Jonathan wasn't sure Kayle would comply, and he didn't know if he should tackle the man or join him. These were his friends, but on the other hand, his daughters.

  There was nowhere to hide really, in this long stretch of underground tunnel. It was dark, like an underground entrance or escape route ought to be. Jonathan only knew about it from his time as the vice-captain of the House Ellan guard.

  “I can see some of you still considering an attack. Be warned that by companions I mean everyone you brought to this city, not just those here. I cannot speak to those in Hossford, but the ones you're hiding here, in my city, are under my power.”

  The knives moved a bit, enough to show her. The shadows were her home, her hands, her soldiers. The emerald adventurer known as the queen of shadows stepped into the light. Jonathan hesitated. To save his daughters but lose their mother. He lowered his sword, and to his surprise, Kayle lowered his spear.

  “There. That wasn't so difficult, now was it? I'm not interested in taking any of your blood. I just want the boy. Word is, he managed to not only survive the jade-rankers but chase them off like puppies with their tails between their legs. I'm sure he'll be here anon.”

  And then she laughed, low, cutting, cruel. It was a fact that most shadow wielders were not right in the head.

  ****

  On a rise, a few leagues away from a body of reflective red, Rafael Kingsley shaded his eyes as he surveyed the city beside the lake. It was huge, forbidding, intimidating.

  The Royal castle was placed on a plot of land almost three times the size of the Wilde village, and it had a central spire so long it competed with some of the skyscrapers of his home planet. The nobles who'd built just around the keep weren't to be outdone too although it was against the law for them to have houses bigger than the royal family's.

  Still, around all that, a city had grown. Hossford city was maybe a tenth, a twentieth the size of this colossus. It had taken him weeks to explore the lower district of Hossford. It would take him years to explore a city this size, though he had seen a bigger one once, in a vision, a planet-sized city with buildings piercing the clouds and higher still.

  He did not have years to explore. He just needed to storm the noble district and destroy the Ellan family.

  “Which castle is theirs?” he asked.

  “I don't know,” Cynthia answered. “It's one of the five nearest the central palace, that's for sure, but beyond that…”

  “Their guards!” Celene said, excited. “Their guards used to dress in a sky blue tunic and brown breeches. They rarely used armour, but they should have breastplates and the like now that they expect an attack imminently. There is a crest, I think, a prancing pony or the like.”

  “It's a war horse,” Jasmine commented.

  They sounded like the same thing to Rafe. He nodded, hyping himself up to approach the damn city.

  “Do you have a plan?” Rhea asked.

  Rafe looked at her, then shrugged. “Charge in guns blazing.”

  Celene laughed awkwardly, misunderstanding his nonchalant answer. He only stared her down, not blinking in the slightest.

  “While I don't know what guns blazing means, surely you don't intend to just charge in. We need a plan to enter the city, enter the castle, avoid notice until the last second. We have to—”

  “We?” Rafe questioned Cynthia with a raised brow.

  She stared at him, her eyes pinched in confusion.

  “Do you…intend to go in alone?”

  “Naturally.”

  “But then, why did you have us escort you here?”

  “I did not have you escort me here. I simply had you show me the way to the city. Did you think I'd force you to fight my battle?”

  “You had no trouble forcing me to betray the guild before,” Cynthia responded quietly.

  A case of literary theft: this tale is not rightfully on Amazon; if you see it, report the violation.

  Rafe sighed. “I know, and I'm sorry. I'm sorry for how I acted back then. I was…in a dark place, still am, to be honest. That's why it has to be this way.”

  He looked her up and down, then surveyed the half-elf and elemenoid woman.

  “In another life, we could have been friends. Maybe even a team.”

  “And me? What about me, Guy? You've been avoiding me this whole trip and for ten years before that. I need closure. And you what, decide to sacrifice yourself in a bid to…”

  She seemed to be struggling for words. Rafe didn't know what to do, he really didn't. On the one hand, he still had a thing for Celene. On the other, now he knew exactly why Noid had done what he did when he did. If Rafe had decided to settle down with Celene all those years ago, he could see himself loving her, her fiery nature, her strong will, her red hair, her freckles.

  The way she'd confronted him that day, today. The way her face had heated up then and today. Her eyes were watery too, then and now. He would have been devastated if he had to leave her, and the trial. Still was, to be honest, but would he have been able to move forward with a heartbreak twice what he was feeling, let alone ten times?

  Not to mention, there might have been children involved. There was no denying it, this trial had irrevocably affected him, and it would continue to do so long after he'd left it. Noid had done his best to make sure it didn't affect him too much, affect his future path. He wasn't sure the god had succeeded.

  He walked to her, wrapped his arms around her. She was tiny compared to his current frame. He had grown taller than her, and even though he favoured a more slick build, was heavily muscled. She collapsed in his embrace. And there broke down.

  He stayed like that for minutes, letting her weep, letting his heart settle, and his body too. Whatever ability he had that let him move with almost zero stamina left his muscles feeling like wet noodles once he stopped.

  “You're not coming back, are you?” she asked, and the pang of de javu hit him so hard he took a step back and almost fell on his ass.

  She didn't let him. Just like Su’Arian, she jumped on him, kissed him deeply. Unlike the mountain woman though, Celene fell on her knees after and stayed there, crying. Her tears streaked down Rafe's cheeks now. He looked at her. He backed away a step, turned around.

  “My name, my real name, is Rafael Kingsley.”

  He stormed into the city.

  ****

  “He comes,” the shadow queen said.

  Jonathan wondered how Guy would arrive. The woman had let her shadows communicate to her, but she didn't seem inclined to move from her throne of shadows. Everything was shadow themed, it was disorienting. Whatever the woman had planned for Guy, it would happen here. And Maria was here too, and she was holding the kids and cowering in a corner of the cell.

  “I dare say, this arena is big enough for whatever trap you have lain for the piece of scum boy, wise mistress,” that sniveling old bastard Duke said. “But wouldn't it be more prudent to have the children come out, so we can distract the boy at the very least.”

  “Watch your tongue, little noble. I'm an emerald, a mythical existence. A mere child cannot hope to rival me. I shall not cower, I shall face him in direct combat and claim that which is awed me. I am the shadow monarch. I will not hide behind petty tricks.”

  Jonathan wanted to snort. She was a shadow wielder. All she knew to do was hide.

  “Oh, what is this?”

  The shadow wielder shook her head, clicking her tongue in disappointment.

  “Is he just charging in like a raging bull? He will be too injured by the time he gets here. Our legendary battle will not be legendary at all. Mr Wilde, I'm disappointed. Did you not teach your charge restraint? He cannot simply mow through the city like that unless he… Oh, he is very evasive. And fast too. He's trying to avoid engagement if he can avoid it. Still, doesn't he know about the secret routes you tried to use to get here? Tsk, how disappointing.”

  Guy indeed didn't know about the secret routes or any of that. Jonathan didn't know why he'd expected the boy would know, but now that he remembered, Guy had been a very simplistic person.

  He wasn't subtle, he wasn't interested in a lot of things. He liked to ask about swords, techniques, maybe stories of epic battles. He'd never been interested in the nuances of managing a mercenary company, or in Jonathan's secrets or whatever. He liked the kids well enough, and he always had a smile or a head pat for them, and he liked Celene, and he liked sparring. Ask him to cook though, and even though he had a knack for it, he'd grumble the whole night away. He hadn't even taken camping gear to his first adventurer quest, as far as Jonathan had heard, and his party members had had to bring the gear on the rest of their expeditions.

  Yes, Guy would charge in head first. That was the kind of man he was. Jonathan hoped whatever Noid had taken Guy to accomplish had been enough. He was sure the boy was about to meet a true monster.

  ****

  Rafe only had eyes for the giant buildings in the distance. The neighborhood he was in was cramped, and he was hemmed in. The open-ended alley he was in was blocked off on both ends. Maybe it was a little too early, but this had been the plan all along anyway. He aimed for a small shed, perhaps a kennel leaning against the wall to his left, he jumped, and landing on it with only his toes launched himself skyward. He'd already withdrawn his twin blades and used them to get a grip on a wall. Even without using an insight, the knives broke through plaster. He was glad he wasn't sent bouncing off.

  Without a hint of hesitation, he started to climb, watching his back all the while. He let go of one of the blades so he was hanging with only one hand and looking back with wide eyes. A crossbow bolt clanged off his former position. He cursed. He got a dagger from a hidden sheath and started to speed up. He looked regretfully at his abandoned blade, but more city guards were arriving by the second. When he'd gotten high enough. He used the dagger to hold all his weight. It bent, on the verge of cracking but he only needed a moment to swing himself. He vaulted into the air, aimed, and landed in a roll.

  He was up a second later and running. A group of guards had wised up to his plan and were waiting from a rooftop ahead. They expected him to stop, as the building ahead of them was on a higher level and should have acted as an obstacle. That was why Rafe had planned on using the rooftops only when he'd reached deeper into the city where the roofs were higher. It wasn't impossible though, just a little harder. And what was hard? He was Rafael fucking Kingsley, a Wilde mercenary at least in his heart. He would not lose.

  He launched himself three metres before he would have crashed into the human wall. A little behind his comrades, a crossbowman shot a bolt at him from close range. He couldn't dodge it. He could only grab it, a few inches from his throat, slowing it down and moving his neck just a little out of the way. He did not let it go though. With all its momentum, it spun him around in the air as he grappled to redirect it to the wall he was aiming for. With a twang, it landed on the wall with both his hands holding on.

  “Hughes, burn him!”

  Rafe grabbed another dagger and was already starting the climb again, evading crossbow bolts like no one's business.

  “But sir, using such spells in the city is—”

  “Burn him, soldier! We cannot let the menace get past us. Use every spell. Mages, bring that freak down!”

  Why hadn't he just paid the toll and waited in line like everyone else? He kind of regretted his decision to bolt into the open gate the way he had, but only a little. For this moment, as the biggest fireball he'd ever seen huddled toward his position very close to the top of the wall where he was getting ready to vault upwards, Rafe forgot all the troubles in his mind. All that mattered was surviving in the moment.

  He swung himself, the fireball neared, he watched it. He moved through the air, slowly, so very slowly. It hit, an explosion rocked the city, debris flew.

  He had this image in his mind, of walking on the debris, using its upward momentum to keep him stable as he moved from one flying rock to the next. He'd done something very similar a long time ago when he'd fought a hobgoblin. But that had mostly been his desperation, him trying his best to evade them. Now, he hoped he would be more skilled when he did it, graceful.

  The explosion sent him flying further than he'd intended though. He flailed as he tried to right himself in the air. He landed with all the grace of a falling truck, stressing the already weak roof. He fell through.

  There were people in bed, scrambling and shouting and trying to cover their nudity. It was just the middle of the day, Rafe couldn't help but think as he got to his feet, trying to test the integrity of his body. He had probably fractured something, he thought. The pain was nothing. He could still go against a whole city.

  He ran towards the door but it burst open before he reached it. Without pausing, he grabbed an oil lamp on a bedstand as he ran by, and rammed it straight onto a guard's head. He kicked him back to increase the momentum, and the guard bowled into his fellows behind him. He jumped, using the fallen guards as his carpet as he aimed for the stairs to the roof.

  And then he was running again. Only now the guards were getting more desperate, trying to use magic to stop his rampage. The guards deeper in the city had been signaled already and were waiting for him. He was out in the open, and he didn't intend it to be any other way. Today the House of Ellan would fall, and the whole capital would watch.

  The city was quiet now since the bells had tolled an emergency when he first entered. Most people had taken refuge in their homes, and a few who were still out and about rushed to escape once the guards came storming down their streets. Off-duty guards put on their uniforms in a rush, and the adventurer's guild roused their best. A few of the jades had returned, but when they had the description of the terrorist, they escaped back into the guild hall and wished the golds good luck.

  Rafe watched as the sun began to set. He'd run through the city for hours, leaving ruins of buildings and broken bodies in his wake. He hoped no one had died, but he wasn't too broken up about that. The towers were close now, maybe a few minutes away. He was exhausted, and he wouldn't be able to swing his sword with any proficiency just then. Not that he needed long to get back in form.

  He stopped running, let himself catch his breath as he waited for the persistent worms to catch up. He bent over, hands on knees, muscles shaking, quivering.

  “Young man, you are under arrest on account of attempted terrorism. You ruined a whole bunch of buildings, destroyed a whole quarter of the market, and caused general unrest for most of a day. Not to mention injuring several city guardsmen. Do you hav—”

  “I just wanted to test a new skill,” Rafe said with the most straight face.

  “Really?” someone in a different getup, probably an adventurer, said. “Me and the boys had a running bet it was just a new skill gone to your head. No one can be mad enough to—”

  “No, not really. Which of these belongs to house Ellan?”

  He knew what they thought when they exchanged glances. They had numbers, overwhelming numbers. He couldn't hope to escape them. And they were surrounding him.

  The guard captain, or at least the highest-ranked one here shrugged.

  “Not that it will do you any good, but it's that one on the South. They are even flying their banner today. I wonder why that is?” he said with a smirk.

  Rafe did not wonder. He knew. They knew. The higher-ups among the guards had probably been bribed to keep him occupied. They knew nothing. Nothing could stop him. Not even a decidedly impressive prancing pony.

  They had him encircled, thought him exhausted. They were also trying to catch their breaths but he was one, they were legion. Oh, how wrong they were. He charged in the indicated direction, and he swam through the press of bodies like a fish swimming through water. They were too shocked, all their blows missing him and instead tripping up a comrade. Just like that, he was past the encirclement. He had tried not to waste the lives of the city guards.

  The guards of house Ellan though, the ones who were more armoured than even Celene had thought, standing there armed to the teeth, barring his way. These he would reap.