“C’mon, c’mon, c’mon,” Gwil said, gritting his teeth.

  “We’re too heavy!” Challe shouted.

  The little boat was struggling to climb a steep slope of the waterway. They’d raced down to the bottom and started ascending with a ton of built-up speed, but their momentum was faltering, and they were far from the top.

  “We’re not going to make it, you mindless monster!” Challe cried.

  “Yeah.”

  The boat stopped, held in place for a heartbeat, and then started sliding downward. With a pulse of Nirva, Gwil threw Challe up onto the dock above and then jumped himself. The force of his legs kicked the boat out of its channel and sent it plummeting down five levels to the ground floor of the atrium.

  Gwil landed on the ledge beside Challe. The woman covered her face with two hands and tugged at her braids with the other two.

  “Goddess, it fills me with despair to learn that our great enemy does not possess even a single modicum of intelligence. Is this all a game to you? Stop having fun!”

  “Maybe it’s ‘cause I’m not a demon,” Gwil said. He helped her to her feet, looked around, and then smiled. “Aha! Don’t even try to tell me this isn’t the place.”

  The waterways had delivered them to a platform near the very top of the grand atrium. Some three stories overhead was the natural rock ceiling of this immense cavern, its surface riddled with jagged stalactites.

  Gwil and Challe stood before the threshold of a torch-lit passage lined with ornamental archways. At its end stood a temple that matched the style of the atrium. Gwil could only see its foot from where they stood—a wide-based pyramid with stairs running up the face.

  “Damn. Too bad Cort didn’t just smash through right here. That’s where Warren lives?”

  “Warden.”

  “Cool. Is he strong?”

  Challe’s face darkened—though her eyes, and the jadestones in her arms, flickered with light—as a nasty grin split her lips. “He rules the last bastion of humanity, and he has done so for five centuries. I, and by extension the Jade Goddess herself, are servants to his cause. What do you think?”

  “That he’s a coward,” Gwil said. “Hiding here from the World. Lying to all of you; filling you with fear. Someone strong wouldn’t act so desperate.”

  Challe caught Gwil’s arm as he started down the tunnel. “Let’s pretend that I believe you’re not a demon, Gwil. Tell me… Tell me of this thriving World that you claim exists? Is it a place of peace and plenty?”

  Gwil puffed up his cheeks and then exhaled, fluttering his lips. “I don’t know very much about the World either. Just like you, I lived my whole life trapped in one place. But, uh, from what I’ve seen and heard, the World sucks. It’s dangerous and shitty.”

  “Then why-”

  “Wait, I’m not done. But after only like a week, I’ve seen so many amazing things. I met friends right away. And even though we’ve been dealing with messy shit the whole time, and I wouldn’t trade it for anything.

  “I met people who were enslaved and had their bodies poisoned, but they still took care of each other. And I met rocks that could walk and a man who breathed fire. And I saw a mountain vanish into thin air.

  “That all makes me think maybe there’s enough people in the World who want to help that things could get better.”

  Challe blinked twice. “Here in Malikau, under cover of the Gracestorm, we are safe. We want for nothing. Our children get to learn and grow. What is it you think you’re saving us from? What great evil do you think you’ll be confronting if you challenge the Warden Tezca?”

  Gwil shrugged. “Depends why he’s lying to you all.”

  Challe sighed. “I promised myself that I would not fall victim to your trickery. Your attempt to corrupt me, while fumbling, has been so unorthodox that I found myself drawn in. But Gwil, you speak of destroying my home. And you act as if you’d be giving us a gift. There is cunning beneath your bald idiocy.”

  Gwil put his hands up. “Woah, I don’t wanna destroy anything. I love this place. It’s awesome. Especially the waterslides. But you’re prisoners and you don’t even know it. Isn’t it hard? And scary? To believe that you’re all alone in the World.”

  Challe’s jaw stiffened. “It is our burden.”

  Gwil put his hand on her shoulder. “It’s not true. That’s all I’m trying to tell you.”

  “You should leave,” Challe said. “Please, just leave. Go find your friends and escape. We don’t want your help.” She tugged at her braids and laughed. “I feel like I’ve been dunked in freezing water. I don’t know if you’re a demon or not. I look at you and see a monster. I blink and see a benevolent young man. It doesn’t matter what you are. This truth that you offer is more curse than blessing. A World full of dangers?” She shook her head. “You’re asking me to shatter the lives of my people. I will not do that.”

  Gwil scratched at his beard while looking into Challe’s pleading eyes. “No. Sorry. I know that I don’t know anything about your people or what’s going on here. But no. I won’t allow you to make that decision by yourself. I won’t leave until every single person in Milwauki knows that the World has not ended. Everyone needs to decide for themselves. I hope they all stay here and keep living safe and happy, but not if they’re being choked by fear.”

  Stolen from Royal Road, this story should be reported if encountered on Amazon.

  “Why? Why does it matter?” Challe shrieked as she shoved Gwil in the chest. His Nirva flashed, and he did not move an inch.

  Gwil thought about it. “I don’t know. I just can’t stand it. Your lives are being stolen.”

  Challe stared at him for a moment. "The Warden will kill you. He has defended us from the demons since the Apocalypse, and you intend to stroll into his abode.”

  “Yup.”

  “You will not even enter his temple. The Jaguar Council will butcher you before you knock on the door.”

  “We’re just standing here,” Gwil said. “Why don’t they come right now?”

  Challe sneered. “I suspect they’ve just finished killing your friends.”

  Gwil pointed down the passage at the temple. “Have you ever been inside?”

  She glanced at him. “No.”

  “You’re a goddess or something and you’ve never been in the house of your leader?” Gwil asked.

  Challe threw all her hands up. “Oh, excuse me! See, I was never supposed to leave that crucifix, you idiot. I was there for twenty years, and I’d have had a hundred more before I passed on.”

  “What?” Gwil laughed. “I like you, Challe, but you’re way too gullible. Nailed to a post, until you die… That’s not a life. That’s not good enough. Not nearly good enough.”

  ***

  Quez, Sworn Guardian to Challe’Jade and commander of the Malikauan warrior sect, squeezed the limp hand of his dying comrade. Blood gurgled from the man’s mouth as he gagged and wheezed his final breaths.

  Unseeing eyes. Skin so pale, already a corpse. Why did the body continue to struggle? Why was the color of his blood so vivid?

  Quez glimpsed the writhing organs in the gaping gut wound. He squeezed his eyes shut, ground his teeth.

  If Quez had anything like courage or honor, he would’ve already put this man out of his misery.

  That small mercy was the only thing that could be given. But Quez could not bring himself to do it, could not even raise his weapon. Too heavy, too numb. I’m sorry. You must suffer because I am weak and foolish.

  Every single one of these deaths was his fault.

  Failure. Unworthy. Unforgiveable.

  The blood stopped gushing. Quez held the hand until it went cold. He did not know how much time passed. Too much, considering their dire circumstances.

  A realization washed over him, brutal and blatant. He did not have the heart for battle. Some warrior I am. Some Sworn Guardian.

  The dead man’s name was Mok. Less than a year since he’d earned his feathers. A kid.

  A hundred more just like him. Scattered all around the Stormwomb, ripped to pieces. Many of the faces were unrecognizable. Goddess, what a rotten fate.

  A jolt snapped through Quez’s body, driving him to his feet. He stood so rigidly that it put a crick in his neck. His fists balled so tight that his finger bones ached.

  “Dammit,” he whimpered through his clenched teeth. Butchered by furniture, of all things. A mockery. A nightmare.

  For Quez and all his warriors, this was their first taste of real battle. It had been over two centuries since the enemy last attacked Malikau.

  The taste was poisonous. Nothing like their wargames. All those years of training, worthless.

  Crushed faces swimming in a pool of blood. The death cries of their brothers and sisters hung in the air, choking the survivors.

  Nothing like their games.

  The Jaguars had observed Quez and his warriors and proclaimed them strong. Warden Tezca had personally placed the Guardian’s headdress on Quez’s head. Worthy of the Malikauans warriors of old, they’d said.

  Just two demons had annihilated their force with ease. More than a quarter of their number, massacred by chairs. Quez had never imagined such cold, careless savagery. The demons shredded men and women in the playful manner that a cat kills a mouse.

  Demons.

  He’d been hiding from that truth. It struck him dumb, like a club to the back of the head. Quez took off his ancestral headdress and hugged it to his chest.

  The demons are upon us. They are here. Inside our haven. And against them, we are weaker than children.

  Teary-eyed, Quez looked upward. Goddess. What can we do?

  “Guardian!” called a voice from behind. The sound was grating in the way it pierced the ambient moaning of the dying.

  Quez turned. His response died in his too-dry throat. He was a moment in registering the woman who stood in front of him despite her green hair and his fondness for her. It was Lall, Speaker of the warrior sect, and his right hand.

  “I completed my task,” she said.

  A lump formed in Quez’s throat at the way Lall forced her voice to remain steady. He nodded, but he’d forgotten what he’d asked of her.

  Lall cleared her throat. “Challe’Jade has been taken by one of the demons. I assigned several wings to search the temple. We will find her.”

  Her eyes were so hard that Quez closed his, just for a heartbeat. Then he replaced his headdress on his head. He would not disgrace himself further. Not while Challe’Jade still lived.

  “Thank you, sister. And you assigned guards to all the exits?”

  “You ordered the on-duty wings who were guarding the exits at the time of the invasion to remain at their posts, Guardian. They did not join this fight.”

  Quez blinked. “Yes, of course. I forgot. Forgive me.”

  Lall smiled. “I believe in you, Quez. I believe in the Goddess. This is a trial by fire. Hear the Gracestorm, brother! It still rages. Challe’Jade is fighting.”

  Thunder boomed as if in answer to Lall’s claim.

  Quez wiped away the tears that streaked his cheeks and felt terrible shame that he’d allowed them to fall.

  “What else, Speaker Lall?”

  “I gathered as much information as I could. All reports indicate that there are three demons in total. It seems that they each wield unique magical powers. The one who stabbed you outside the Shrine of the Oubliette is the one who took Challe’Jade.”

  “Yes,” Quez said. His hand went to the wound on his shoulder.

  Lall continued. “Before the battle…”

  Battle? Is that what we should call this slaughter?

  “…I sent a runner to the Elder Warden. He has returned with a message. The Warden and the Jaguars are entering the Oubliette to investigate the breach. Despite the runner’s pleas, they refused to allow an accompanying force. The Warden offers us these words as guidance: Keep faith, my brave warriors. The Goddess loves Malikau.”

  Quez’s cheeks flushed hot. “Will they not-” He stopped himself.

  Five hundred years ago, Warden Tezca and his five Jaguars fought off untold hordes of demons during the Apocalypse in defense of their village, Malikau. It was said that they warred for nine hundred and ninety-nine days and nine hundred and ninety-nine nights, and on the thousandth day, at dawn, the demons fled.

  Tezca and the Jaguars and the Malikauans celebrated their victory. And then the Jade Goddess descended and knelt before them. She put an end to their revelry with a brutal truth. Humanity had perished from the World. Only the village had survived.

  In penance, the Goddess declared she would offer them sanctuary and protect the people of Malikau for as long as she could. She granted Tezca and the Jaguars immortality in recognition for their miraculous feat.

  If those legendary warriors had been here, how many men and women would have been saved? They could have killed three demons with ease. Where were they?

  Quez swallowed against the bitter taste in his mouth. It was not his place to question the Warden and his Jaguars. Every single Malikauan owed them their lives. Blasphemer, he scolded himself. But…

  “How will they enter the Oubliette?” he asked Lall. “The trap blocked the hidden entrance.”

  Lall shook her head. “I don’t know, Guardian.”

  “Very well.” Quez straightened his posture. “I will join the search for Challe’Jade. Scouts were sent after the two demons who fled from here?”

  “Yes,” Lall said. “They did not engage. But they stopped pursuing.”

  Quez tilted his head.

  “They found something. Something you need to see, brother.”