Remus jogged leisurely around the bordered perimeter of Gold’s Bane, his jaws hurting from how hard he was smiling.

  Gold’s Bane was what the Talents of the Future called their largest and most bustling base. Nearly one hundred and fifty thousand people strong, the headquarters housed the equivalent of an army — simply one bounded not by blood, but a high code of honour.

  The honour of justice. The place had acquired its nickname with one simple goal in mind: to be a thorn in Damosh’s side.

  The place was the brainchild of the Carpentry Sect, being styled off the three districts of First Rite, and split into thirds. The first portion was miles long in itself: fields after fields of fighting arenas, each with varying terrain, certain magical quirks to keep battles interesting, and a resident champion posted at each fighting ring. With the necessity of training as much as humanly possible before the siege of Remus' birthplace, an intricate procedure had been put in place. The sparring system was simple: when a clansman enlisted in their rebellion, they would be assigned to one of the fighting arenas. This would be detailed on their Progress Calibrator. There was mandatory sparring each and every day, with at least two compulsory fights: one at dusk, and one at dawn. Unless, of course, the individual was incapacitated, which tended to happen a lot, with such a rigorous training regiment implemented.

  A list of your wins and losses would be recorded by the Progress Calibrator, and the highest scoring clansmen at each field was appointed ‘champion’. The title possessed no real purpose other than incentive and glory, but the champions were held with high respect around the outpost, gaining notoriety and regarded with reverence. This was all balanced and made fair, by ensuring each field only contained clansmen at the same Rank.

  As for clansmen from non-combat oriented sects, they had their own competitive system set up, just out of range from the fields. It was a point system, with each clan’s powers being pushed to the limit, evaluated at the end of each day for their effectiveness. The top three of these clans were crowned their own champions. Though, Remus had to admit, keeping track of how many loaves of bread the Feast Clan had made, or the number of battle tactics devised by the Wisdom Clan, was a loss less exciting than seeing two battle-ready clansmen duke it out.

  It was proving to be a tremendously successful operation. Blowing even Remus’ high expectations out of the water. Already, all thirty champions from the combat side of things had arranged a tournament. One that, as Remus did his daily run across Gold’s Bane, was well underway.

  In one arena with floating platforms, controlled by a mechanism provided by the Matter Clan — the biggest backer of the Talents of the Future — a man adorned in pale white robes sang merrily. He had bushy eyebrows that suddenly knotted in concentration, a hand to his chest as he recited a verse of poetry.

  The words had a magical effect, causing the platform that another clansman was standing upon to turn upside down. A man from the Sports Clan anticipated the attack, immediately calling upon an impossible grip strength to hold onto the platform's ledge. He leapt from platform to platform with masterful dexterity, slipping away from each right as the Poetry clansmen sent them tumbling downwards.

  A solid-looking ball swept through the air, bouncing from floating island to island before blasting into the cloaked man’s abdomen.

  Remus winced in sympathy for the man.

  Sprinting ahead, similar displays of superhuman power sent energy billowing through the air, each thrown projectile, or narrowly avoided attack, bringing a deep warmth from the recesses of Remus’ chest.

  Life at Gold’s Bane was busy indeed. Especially seeing how Remus was acting leader.

  After his morning run, and following his first bout with Koa of the day, Remus was open for anyone’s attention. Each day brought a whole new plethora of new problems, or ideas that Remus was required to evaluate. Meetings amongst the leaders of the clan seemed to arrive more often than rain itself, and while their tents were warm and dry, he found them equally bothersome. Today, he couldn’t escape a blabbering Mason, who would talk of nothing but battle tactics and the logistics of their army, for hours.

  Remus nodded, much of the man’s terminology going over his head. He approved all of the general’s plans and battle arrangements. It wasn’t that Remus was neglecting his duty. He simply trusted that Mason's decades of experience over him, and battle-savvy mind, knew exactly what they was doing.

  It felt good to trust in people again. You become quite withdrawn when working the same job, in the same small location, day after the day, with little departure. Those long Passings at Eclipse had only facilitated Remus, allowing him to sink deeper into self pity; into self-inflicted isolation.

  It was an odd juxtaposition. Now all Remus knew was people and more people. All trusting in his crazed hopes and dreams, in his willingness to guide them along a path that others would not dare take.

  Whilst routines made productivity a breeze once you fell into them, they had the unfortunate consequence of shortening days to what felt like moments.

  After Mason finally left to carry out their reached agreement — Remus nodding very sagely at his words like he knew exactly what the man was talking about — the time came for his second bout with Koa. The man had lasted a whopping thirty seconds this time! That might sound disrespectful, but really, a Foot-Soldier withstanding a Splintered Rank for more than ten seconds was nothing short of a miracle. Especially when their Marks were so badly opposed.

  Then came a meeting, followed by Remus taking care of some wandering Unbounded, followed by a second meeting, followed by — Oh! Mason needed something again! Then that was followed by some altercation Remus needed to settle, followed by-

  By the time he finished his third and final bout of the day with Koa, the man always insisting on training with Remus whenever he could spare a moment, Remus lacked the energy to do so much as walk back to his cabin. He collapsed promptly on a nice patch of grass. In his fatigued daze, he could interpret no difference between the grassy carpet and a nice linen blanket.

  He was about to drift asleep right there, trusting in his rebellion to keep his exposed body safe, when a warm presence at his side made Remus jolt up. Several flowers were unearthed as he did so, the beautiful scenery tarnished.

  “Violet, I swear to everything good and holy, if you scare me one more time-”

  She giggled lightly, swatting him on the shoulder. Remus hated how easily he blushed.

  “I need to keep you on your toes.”

  Remus yawned, trying not to overthink the exchange. Nothing in this universe, not even the motivations of Unbounded, or the endless mysteries of Infinity, confused him more than this girl right here.

  For a time, Remus allowed small talk to drag his sleepiness away with each trivial topic. Only when he saw a disgruntled expression on Violet’s face did he sense something was amiss.

  “What is it?”

  “What?” She muttered coyly, glancing away from him.

  “I can tell when something’s on your mind. What is it? You can speak to me if you need to.”

  Violet settled her eyes straight back on Remus, her severeness making his throat constrict.

  “You must have heard about . . . about the Archipelago.”

  Remus’ heart sank. Since Juniper informed Koa Durations ago, they had all been made aware of Ash’s exploits in the Forgotten Isles. It had spurred Koa’s undying thirst to train until he couldn’t move, putting Remus, a servant of the literal Ambition god, to shame.

  But something told Remus Violet wasn’t talking about that.

  “What?” Remus sat up straight. “Has something happened?”

  Violet merely looked at him with a sad glint to her eyes, and that told him everything he needed to know.

  Remus squeezed his fists. No wonder Koa had been so furious during their bouts today, some of his tactics far more aggressive than usual.

  “So Enos now has an entire nation, an entire archipelago under his rule. I don’t even want to know how many men make up his numbers.”

  “Three hundred thousand.” Violet didn’t heed Remus’ words. “Double our forces. Well, at least in this outpost.”

  “Double.” All of the reports Mason had given Remus about the Paladins backed the figure up.

  Remus stood up straighter, Violet still lying in the grass at his side. Through the emerging moonlight, and the few lit candles scattered across Gold’s Bane, the final rounds of the champion’s tournament were illuminated into sharp focus. As Remus watched those men and women sweat and struggle, blades clashing and the stomping of feet reverberating across the camp, a dark cloud thundered over his thoughts.

  “Tell me Violet.” He tapped his knee nervously. “Am I sending these men to their deaths?”

  Violet’s silence was less than reassuring. She put a hand on his arm, drawing closer. “They chose to fight for you, Remus.”

  “So it doesn’t matter if they die for me?” Remus barked back. He sighed, letting his chest drop. “I’m sorry. That was rude of me.” He said quietly, but she didn’t seem to take offence.

  “Remus, this is war. People die. People risk their lives for what they believe in, and whatever we do, no matter how well we fight, or plan, or strategise together, we cannot avoid casualties. We all know that.” Her face inched uncomfortably close to Remus’, her ember eyes swollen with the quiet flames of her conviction. “Your job isn’t to protect everyone from getting hurt. That’s par for the course. Your job is to make sure that their sacrifices aren’t in vain.”

  “So if we fail-”

  “Then we fail! But the fact that we stood up against injustice, that we tried to make a difference, that some people in this world at least care — isn’t that, oh, I don’t know, kind-of beautiful?”

  A chill breeze wafted through the lawn at their feet. Crickets chirped in distant foliage. All clouds vanished from the sky above, and Remus felt goosebumps running up and down his arms. “You mean . . . that there’s beauty in the tragedy?”

  “Beauty in the tragedy.”

  Remus tried to mull that over. Violet was so strange. She either spoke in only simple, stripped back language, or struck him with some poignant perspective. One that he would ruminate on for Durations later.

  “That isn’t to say we’re going to throw away our lives for the hell of it. We’re going to fight, goddammit! And we’re gonna win if it kills me.” Violet’s tone abruptly softened. “But if we fail . . . that doesn’t mean this was all for nothing. Don’t you dare think that. There’ll be infinite meaning behind every life lost on our final battlefield. ”

  Remus sensed that Violet was reassuring not just him with those words, but herself too. He appreciated the sentiment regardless.

  “You always put me at ease.” He admitted. “Thank you . . . “ the words were reluctant to leave his mouth, dragging their heels at the exit. “. . . for sticking with me.”

  That warmth in Remus' chest crackled. The quiet fire he had so desperately attempted to extinguish. So many days in his tiny chambers in Eclipse, praying that the winds of reason and logic would see those emotional fires stamped out. Now here Violet was, holding his hand, staying so close to him, feeding those flames with false hopes and delusions. It was like the woman was trying to torture him.

  “Thank you.” Violet corrected him, putting a hand to his chin, wiping away a streak of dirt. “You don’t know how dark it gets when your home is a place filled with strange faces, and stranger fears fill your head. If it wasn’t for you accompanying me, when I ran from First Rite, ran from that terror, I don’t think I would have lasted. I don’t know what kind of fate would have awaited me. What kind of cruel creature hardship would have moulded me into. I might have become a monster.”

  “Hey, hey.” Remus grasped both of her hands in his. There were tears streaking down Violet’s pretty face, and Remus considered each droplet a mortal enemy. “You’re a good person Violet. Innately good. You would have found your way regardless of whether I was there to annoy you or not. Honestly, I’m surprised you weren’t driven insane by how long it took me to get the hang of all those fighting drills.”

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  She giggled at that, the sound rising the fire inside of Remus to a crescendo.

  Slowly, as if waiting to see his response, Violet drew Remus in closer.

  Remus’ face suddenly became very hot; his palms more water than skin for how sweaty they were. One thousand thoughts entered his mind, before fading altogether. Like a sky full of balloons randomly exploding. A transition from chaotic activity, to the absolute bliss of complete and utter presence. The universe around them fell away, like Remus and Violet were floating in absent space; alone and together.

  He held Violet in his arms. He looked into her eyes, only an inch away, and felt her hot breath against his skin. Against his lips. If he was just a few centimetres closer, they would-

  Violet was holding his hand remarkably tight. Perhaps she had forgotten there was still a Rank’s worth of power between them, for Remus grimaced as his finger bones creaked.

  “I found something, Remus. Something I’ve been meaning to speak to you about.”

  The confession caught him completely off guard. “Huh? What?”

  “One of my Projections was hunting out in the Anarchy Syndicate. I know it’s a long shot for us to receive any supporters in that desolate wasteland, but we need all the people we can get, right? Or maybe that wasn’t the reason I went there at all . . .” Her eyes glanced towards the moon behind Remus’ head, but she didn’t pull away.

  “Did you find something?”

  She nodded. “In the ruins of the Chaos Clan’s base.”

  Where that fire of passion once reigned king in Remus’ stomach, a sudden emptiness hallowed him out, depriving him of all feeling but cold fear. He matched Violet’s tight hold, interlocking their fingers in an unbreakable clutch. So many questions he wanted to ask, but didn’t dare interrupt the woman.

  “That place is so strange Remus, I wish you had seen it. Then I wouldn’t have to struggle so much trying to describe it. A chaotic taint lingers there, like an afterimage of the half-fiends, half-mortals that once inhabited those ancient halls and chambers. Some of the lower rooms survived the fire. Charred out, and certainly not without their damages, but still usable. The arrangement flickers around, changing constantly, so no-one was able to safely navigate those catacombs . . . until my wandering Projection arrived, imbued with some of my Mark’s Chaotic power.”

  “What was down there?”

  “A . . . a diary.” She choked. “A diary left by Violet. By the original Violet.”

  Remus opened his mouth to reply, but it was as if a stone was lodged into his throat. All he could do was splutter nonsensically.

  Tears were running down Violet’s eyes. Too many for Remus to try and wipe her face clear, though he did so anyway.

  “I thought I had moved past this.” She admitted, voice little above a hoarse whisper. “I’m too scared to read it. To read about the life of the little girl, the life girl whose life I stole.”

  Her voice quavered, and Violet choked with every second word.

  Remus held her tear-stricken face with two hands, staring deep in the fires of her eyes. Never in his life would he speak with such conviction again. “You didn’t steal anything Violet. You’re not the actions that have been done to you. You're not. You didn’t choose for Enos to kill Teivel and fuse with him; you didn’t ask Nova and Milap to force Akuji into duplicating all those bodies; you never asked to be made one with that girl and carry her memories. But what you did choose was to help conquer the last generation of Right bearers. What you did choose was to stand for peace and justice; to fight for what you believed in, even when the odds were so astronomically stacked against you. What you did choose was to be the girl I-”

  Remus felt the word slip away from him. “What I mean to say is, whatever you read in that journal — whatever it is that you discover — it doesn’t change a thing. You’re still you. Not that Unbounded, not that girl, but you! Violet. And, to me, at least, that’s amazing.”

  Only when Remus finished speaking did he realise that she was bawling more than ever. He looked at her, utterly bemused, and learned away slightly. Did I . . . did I say something wrong?

  Then, as fast as an ambush, Violet forced Remus into a hug. He felt his back crack, and aching pains flared all across his body. Remus spluttered, but didn’t complain as Violet buried her head into his shoulder.

  There, the two of them remained for several minutes. Him simply holding her, neither uttering a single word. The labours of the day returned to Remus, not helped by the utterly perplexing woman in his arms.

  Violet kissed his cheek, thanked him hastily, before sprinting off. Remus blinked, saw her dashing away for a mere second, before a beam of purple light flooded out.

  And just like that, she was gone.

  Fireworks splintered the skies above Remus like a pane of broken glass. The winning champions were obviously celebrating with great vigour, and though Remus was keen to find out who had emerged victorious, he was truly exhausted. He trudged slowly back towards his own personal camp, set up out of sight, and out of mind, away from the rest of Gold’s Bane. He liked it that way: it kept his work and personal life separate. A personal life that consisted of little more than passing out in his bed.

  “I don’t understand . . .” he mumbled to himself. “I can never-”

  His spiritual senses screamed out at him. Without hesitation, he unveiled the chains tied against his waist, leaping to face the opposite direction.

  Somebody was here.

  It was dark out, but Gold’s Bane had overnight security. A constantly changing rota of sentinels. Not to mention the bajillion defensive, illusionary, and oracular abilities placed on the site, that should have either prevented, or at least forewarned them of an upcoming attack.

  Yet there was definitely someone here, someone looking for him. Remus tried to close in on the spiritual scent he was picking up on, struggling to gauge whether they were human or Unbounded.

  Remus summoned fires to illuminate his surroundings. His eyes roved through the darkness frantically, but didn’t see hide nor hair of the intruder.

  Right when his mind had cooked up a thousand possible explanations for what was unfolding, each one more terrifying than the last, a sound like music notes playing seemed to . . . speak to him.

  “She loves you, you know.”

  Remus jumped five feet into the air. His body deflated with relief when his eyes landed on the Projection.

  It was like a walking pink fire, wisps of heat swirling away from the creature. Like all of Violet’s new Projections, the Unbounded was vaguely humanoid. White abysses set into the face served as eyes, and despite there not being any evident mouth in their diamond-shaped face, the Projection’s head tilted to the side, as if waiting for Remus to respond. Their feminine body didn’t have legs, instead curving into a flickering point, like the end tail of a ghost.

  It wasn’t one of the Projections he recognised, but something about their warm presence put Remus at ease.

  Only when Remus was certain he was safe, did he process the message.

  If there had been any water in Remus’ mouth, he would have spluttered it out. “What?”

  “Violet loves you, Remus.”

  Each word had a musical quality to it. Remus half-expected to spot an acapella band tucked away in the bushes.

  Remus waited for the Projection to say more, but they never did. As if those words alone explained everything.

  “But you’re a Projection . . .” he tried to reason. “How could you know . . . and why . . . who are you?”

  “I’m Blessing. Other Projections personify Violet’s brutality, or protective nature. But me? I’m her heart.”

  Remus tried to digest that. “Her heart?”

  The Projection nodded. Two arm-like tendrils clapped excitedly. “See, you’re getting it already!”

  Remus tried to make sense of the Projection’s previous declaration. A declaration that saw his fire of passion reignited, mirroring the presence that now stood before him. But he couldn’t risk to hope that easily.

  “Then why doesn’t she tell me that herself? Why did she turn me down when I asked her before? Doesn’t Violet know you're here?”

  The questions fell out of his mouth on their own accord.

  “That’s what I’ve come to speak to you about, but we don’t have long.” Blessing put a long stick of a finger to her lips, winking playfully. “Violet has a lot of Projections on hand now. She can’t keep track of them all at once, so she won’t notice if I visit you for a few minutes.”

  They drew closer now, and Remus felt all of his inhibitions dropping. This was definitely Violet’s Projection. He experienced that same comfort he had felt with her only moments ago, holding her close, smelling the perfumed scent of her hair.

  “Violet . . . she doesn’t think it’s right of her to be with you. To date around with a body that isn’t hers, with a life she stole.”

  Remus felt his teeth chattering. “I thought she was past this. I thought she had finally accepted herself. Why can’t she see what I see?”

  “Healing takes a long time, Remus. You can’t expect it to be a linear process. That poor girl. I can feel the pain she feels, the damage done to her aching heart. Finding that book reopened all kinds of past traumas for her.”

  He was pacing around the place, suddenly too agitated to sit still. Remus bit his thumb nail until it drew blood, watching the golden droplet slip down his fingers to reach the grass below.

  “She was going to kiss me, wasn’t she?” He crouched down to his knees, voice tightening to a sad whimper. “Damn it, why didn’t I kiss her when I had the chance?”

  The Projection said nothing. After thirty seconds of silence, Remus noticed they were still there.

  “There's more, isn’t there?”

  Blessing continued.“When an Unbounded reaches Warlord equivalence, they begin to . . . hear voices. In their head. Voices drowning them out with the Unbounded doctrine of justice. Violet’s human side is helping to suppress the instincts, and she’s only a newbie Warlord; she won’t be hearing much yet. But once the girl climbs the final Divine Ranks, or their fiend equivalent . . . she’s scared that those voices will only grow in number. And perusation. ”

  “She can resist, I know she can.”

  “But she doesn’t.”

  Remus clutched bundles of grass in each hand, as if trying to anchor himself to the earth. Like that would stop his thoughts from spiralling away from him.

  Gods above, if only he’d known earlier how badly Violet was struggling. Maybe he could have helped. He was so absorbed in his own suffering, his own misery, that he neglected to think of the pain felt by the ones he loved the most. The one he loved the most.

  “I must go, Remus. Violet will be mortified if she knows I’ve visited you.”

  Remus was a little horrified himself. When Remus and Violet had planned to use Projections as messengers, they had never foreseen the Unbounded becoming quite so independent. Remus wasn’t so sure if he could trust them. Maybe Blessing was only saying all this as part of an intricate plan, intended to backstab Violet. To become the most powerful Unbounded from that branch of fiend. He didn’t need to be told how silly that thought was.

  Without a sound, not even the faintest rustle of a flower to indicate its passing, Blessing vanished.

  Remus stumbled over to a nearby stone, dropping to an uncomfortable seat. All that bodily exhaustion had vanished in face of Blessing’s confession, and now Remus’ own heart wouldn’t start thumping in his chest.

  It was cruel. To be denied his love time after time, for that spark of passion to be extinguished and forcefully relit again. . . and again . . . and again. Remus could fight from dusk till dawn, endure beatings until he was more blood and bruise than flesh and bone. But this . . . he couldn’t take much more of it. His physical self could heal, but the heart was a fragile thing.

  His head began to droop against his shoulder. Remus would have fallen asleep, allowed a brief respite from his worldly troubles, from the tightness that choked his stomach, when it happened.

  Remus’ spiritual senses cried bloody murder.

  He sighed involuntarily. That damn tournament got out of hand, huh?

  Just what he needed — another nauseating task to break him down. To leave even his bones hollowed out of their marrow. Maybe fate had deemed him unworthy of rest tonight. Unworthy of anything.

  In retrospect, a fight getting out of hand was nothing to complain about. Remus would have chosen that any day, over the living nightmare that awaited him.

  “Alright I’m coming, I’m coming.” He muttered, stretching his neck to the side until it cracked.

  Then Remus spasmed, jolting to his feet as the skies overhead seemed to open up. If the skies could be described as a body, a mortal wound had been inflicted upon it. Like the skies were raining Ichor, a solid beam of brilliant golden light poured outward.

  His eyes scanned rapidly for whatever had created the technique. Their defences! Their wards of protection! Remus sensed the atmosphere becoming static around him, as dozens of protective abilities were broken apart. The spiritual equivalent of a psychopath chopping into a door with an axe.

  And, as much as Remus didn’t want to know who was invading his home of Gold’s Bane, it was impossible to miss them.

  Like a dark star that had descended from above, the metallic body of the man shared the same thunderous shade as the light that immersed him. Gone were any traces of cracks or scratches, their bejewelled flesh worth enough to decorate a throne room.

  At his side, a child of light led astray, was a deep abyss of a man. A space within space, swirling planets and ancient galaxies contained within his strange new form. Where a spectacular light basked everything else in sight, the presence was notable for its unrelenting pitch.

  There was no mistaking either of them. Nowhere in Descent, or in the entire universe, for that matter, would you find two beings quite like them.

  Edmar and Ash.

  The golden light parted beneath their hovering bodies. Out of that branching path, a flood of flesh and weaponry flooded out. Remus heard their growls resounding through the hair, a warsong foretelling the spilling of much blood, and the razing of lands to nothing but a fine ash.

  An army of Paladins had arrived.

  Without a word, Remus raised his chains with a solemn conviction. His thoughts turned to Violet. Strangely, he felt no fear. Electric streaks of light bursting away from him, Remus, for the first time in a while, knew exactly what he was fighting for. Something more immediate than simply thirsting for vengeance.

  I can’t die.

  From the darkness above, a bolt of lightning struck Remus, streaking in accordance with his revving Mark.

  “I can’t die,” he stomped the ground in defiance. The hill he crested seemed to buckle in the wake of a Vanguard’s power.

  Until Violet knows just how much she’s loved!