Julie awoke as she was being strapped into the passenger seat by her brother. She opened her eyes only to find everything hazy from her memory to her vision. What had happened in New Carlington? The last thing she remembered was shooting eye fiends.

  “Jule?” asked Jack, taking her head in his hands and turning her to look him in the eyes.

  “Yeah…” she said weakly, seeing three of her brother. “Jack…”

  “It’s alright, you’re safe,” he said. “We’re leaving the city and heading back to Cliff Town.”

  “Right Hand…”

  Charlemagne leaned around from the flatbed and poked his head through the door. “I don’t believe we’ve properly had the pleasure. Name’s Charlemagne, but you can call me Charlie.”

  “We did it?”

  Jack smiled at her and she could just about make him out now. “Yes. We found Charlie, Isabella, and Alfonso. Sadly, Logain didn’t make it.”

  “We will tell you the tale when you are less muddled,” said Alfonso as he helped the injured Arc into the driver’s seat. “I am Alfonso, by the way. It is not the shining sun you see, merely my head reflected in it.”

  “Where’s your hair?” Julie asked, not thinking clearly. “Oh…I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to—”

  Alfonso laughed. “Do not worry one bit. I took a bad dose of radiation during a scavenging mission almost a decade ago and it left me looking like this. I am used to it now, as far my friends, so I only get stared at by strangers who I could not care the least bit about.”

  “It suits you,” said Isabella, startling Julie who hadn’t even noticed the beautiful woman sitting between her and Arc.

  “Are you Isabella?” the young girl asked. “Your voice is familiar.”

  “You probably heard me when I was carrying you around or restraining you, Julie. You should close your eyes and rest properly. You took a nasty blow to the head.”

  “Hurry up and climb in,” said Arc to Alfonso and Jack. “The sun is setting and I don’t fancy driving through the night.”

  “I’ve got a pair of thermal goggles in my bag,” said Charlie. “I’ll take over for the night drive and you can sleep off your wounds in the back.”

  Arc sighed. “Alright,” he said to everyone’s surprise. “But if there’s even a hint of trouble, wake me up and I’ll take over again.”

  Once everyone was seated, Arc started up the ignition and drove up the hill. In the rearview mirror, he could see the ruins of New Carlington and thought about what creature would fill the vacuum left in the wake of the Eye of Gra’shiya. He had no doubt there would be another before long, however, he was pleased with himself for having ridded the world of another great evil. Perhaps he had even bought a few decent folks enough time to scavenge in the city for something that could save a few lives.

  Arc passed the crest of the hill and rolled on down the road, slowly descending and leaving the city in his wake. He was very glad to see the back of it, temporarily peaceful as it was. With Jack and Julie having both had near-death experiences from their association with him, he was feeling the weight of being responsible for the two younger ones.

  “Something bothering you?” Isabella asked him, noticing his heavy expression.

  He turned to look into her big blue eyes and gave a cheerful smile. “It’s been a long day, that’s all. How about you?”

  “It’s been a long couple of weeks,” said Isabella, putting her hand on his leg and resting her head on his shoulder. “You mind? I need to sleep too.”

  “Alright, just don’t drool on me.”

  She slapped him playfully in the chest and then closed her eyes. Having a beautiful woman so close to him was a nice feeling; one he missed greatly. Isabella even looked vaguely reminiscent of Evie, but with startling blonde hair rather than fiery red. The two scars on his neck tingled underneath his scarf and his briefly content expression turned to that of anguish as he replayed the memory of how he got them in his mind for the thousandth time.

  *

  The overcast sky followed the pickup truck across the country as though the spectre of the Eye of Gra’shiya was stalking those who had escaped its grasp, seeking vengeance for its death. The clouds exploded into a thunderstorm, making the road slippery in some places and outright flooded in others. On top of that, the way ahead was obscured and the passengers in the back were thoroughly soaked.

  Arc steered towards a protruding cliff, seeking some semblance of shelter. He drove along it until he found a small cave. And small was underselling it, giving just enough room for the six travellers to lie down. It was cramped, but it was at just enough of an incline for it to be dry. If the flooding got worse, it would be another story, but they hoped it wouldn’t come to that.

  As everyone gathered around inside, Arc released the tailgate, making sure that the pool of water that had been building up in the flatbed flowed out. The last thing he wanted was for whoever sat in the back during the next leg of the journey to Cliff Town to be sitting in a cold bath that was sealed shut by rusted hinged. He may have being unnecessarily paranoid, but it had been a while since had travelled in such a large group and he wanted everyone to be at least reasonably comfortable.

  “Get yourself in here, you loon!” called Charlemagne, his voice barely audible through the beating raindrops and howling wind.

  Arc ran inside and shook himself dry with each shake feeling like he was being thumped by a club. He had lost count of the amount of times he had been beaten to a pulp by a foe, but he felt better today than he had yesterday. By the time he reached Cliff Town, he knew he would be right as rain.

  “You should see a doctor as soon as possible,” said Julie, herself feeling considerably better.

  “Nah, I’m fine,” said Arc with a grin. “I’m used to it by now.”

  “You don’t look as bad as that time you were beaten up by the goblins,” remarked Jack, prompting laughter from the three members of the Right Hand.

  “Goblins?” asked Isabella, raising an eyebrow. “You almost single-handedly killed the Eye and you were beaten up by goblins.”

  “He’s left out the context of numbers and limited ammo,” said Arc, leaning over and jabbing Jack on the arm.

  “Ouch!” cried the young man, rubbing his arm while biting his lip. “That was just unnecessary.”

  “Not to give my self-esteem another wallop,” said Arc, ignoring Jack’s irritated stare, “but the Eye of Gra’shiya killed itself, if anything. It was its own hubris that led to its downfall. Had it the sense to stop trying to feed off our negative emotions or put more effort into enthralling us, it would have won.”

  Alfonso smiled pleasantly. “It could have theoretically killed us all, but it did not. We did win. You did kill it. Exploiting an enemy’s arrogance is a perfectly valid tactic.”

  “And one those orcs will soon feel,” said Charlemagne, tapping his nose twice. “Their armour may be able to stop some of our bullets, but it doesn’t make them invincible.”

  “Just be warned that they have quite the arsenal,” said Arc. “I suspect that one I told you about with the bazooka won’t be the only one using tools beyond a simple axe.”

  This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

  Isabella nodded. “We won’t underestimate them as we did the level of danger in New Carlington. If anything, I suspect it will be the orcs underestimating the forces of Cliff Town. Our guards are strong; we are strong. We will drive them away from our land and bolster our defences once they’re but skeletons in the ground.”

  “The only good orc is a dead orc,” said Charlemagne, holding up an imaginary cup to cheers with before laughing.

  “That reminds me,” said Arc, awkwardly climbing to his feet and stiffly staggering to the vehicle.

  Everyone looked at him in confusion as he opened the door and fumbled around for something underneath the seat. He returned shortly after, his legs freshly waterlogged and sat down with a bottle of whiskey in his hand.

  “Red Rust,” he said, unscrewing the lid and passing it over to Charlemagne.

  The scavenger took a swig and coughed. “Damn!” he called, fighting through the burning. “That’s like a hot razorblade.”

  “Is it good?” asked Isabella.

  “Not bad,” said Charlemagne with a look of contentment now that the shock had worn off. He passed it to Isabella who poured a tiny amount into the cap and tossed it down her throat.

  Her eyes looked like they were about to explode. “My goodness,” she said, not coughing, but looking immediately flushed. “Alfonso?”

  “Just a sip,” he said, accepting the bottle and trying a tiny drop. “Hmm, it is quite…potent.”

  “It’s the good stuff, I’m telling you,” said Arc with a smile. “Have another.”

  “I appreciate the offer, but I am careful about what I eat and drink after my radiation accident.”

  “Fair enough,” said Arc with a shrug. “How about you, Jacky Boy? Julie?”

  The twins looked to each other. Julie shook her head, but Jack’s face curled into an intrigued grin. “Alright,” he said, holding his hand out to Alfonso.

  He wanted to prove to the Right Hand that he was not a simple child and could keep up with the adults—something they had given no thought to, having seen how capable he was—and took a long drink. His face scrunched up and he shuddered before his cheeks puffed up.

  “He’s gonna blow!” chortled Charlemagne as Jack shoved the bottle into Arc’s hands and rushed to the edge of the cave.

  He heaved, but managed to avoid vomiting. Shamefully, he returned and sat down. A single glance to the bottle sent a shiver down his spine. Arc waved it in front of his face and Jack shut his eyes tightly, the very thought of the whiskey making him want to be sick. One drink was enough for him.

  “Unbelievable,” tutted Julie, shaking her head.

  Jack wanted to retort but he was afraid of what would happen should he open his mouth. Instead, he tried to think happy thoughts about sleeping in his old house, far removed from death and drink. It worked to a point, but he still felt his stomach bubbling.

  “Tell us, Arc,” said Isabella, looking at him with sultry eyes. How much she had changed her tune from their first meeting astounded him. “Where did you get that fancy gun?”

  Arc pulled out the Golden Hawk and pointed it at the wall, pressing the trigger and the cylinder clicked as it emptily rotated. “This old thing? It was a gift from my old master. He gave each of his students one once he was convinced that we would use it for good. Before that, he only allowed us to use iron guns. They did the job, but they weren’t quite as sleek.”

  “Students?” asked Charlemagne. “What, was this a spellslinging school?”

  “Not quite,” said Arc, spinning his gun around and shoving it in its holster. “We all had our reasons for coming to him, but mine was because I was an orphan and he plucked me out of a bad situation. He was a generous man.”

  Julie was surprised. “You were an orphan too?” she asked, having had no idea. She knew so little about Arc’s past, thinking that he would be reluctant to talk about it should she ask. It was only during the drive to New Carlington that he had voluntarily opened up about himself.

  “Yep,” said Arc. He took a drink of Red Rust and then passed it to Charlemagne. “It was part of the reason I sympathised with the pair of you. I’d been in your shoes before.”

  “I…I’m sorry.”

  “I’m doing just fine now,” said Arc with a smile before looking to the Right Hand. “What about you three? How’d you wind up in Cliff Town working for King Obsidian?”

  “Who wants to start?” asked Charlemagne, looking to the others. Alfonso smiled, while Isabella gestured to him. “Alright, I suppose I’ll go first. It’s a short story, really. I used to roll with a crew of scavvers in Gateshun to the north; a real cold place, if you don’t know it. One day after an exceptionally harsh winter, me and my boys decided we were better to take our chances in the heat of Nuvaria. Most of them couldn’t cope, so they bailed and left me here to fend for myself. Charming friends, of course, but I ended up wandering into Cliff Town and served as a guard for a couple of months before the king saw what a keen eye I was—”

  “Keen eye?” asked Isabella. “I heard it was because he demanded you shave your stupid haircut and you refused.”

  Charlemagne tilted his head back and forth while sneering. “Eh, whatever it was, we got to talking and we became good buds. He asked Lancelot and Logain to take me out on a mission with him as a trial and here I am today. Wouldn’t trade this job for the world…well, maybe a fortified mansion with an unlimited supply of food, water, and electricity.”

  “That’s the dream,” sighed Julie. “How about you, Isabella?”

  “Me?” asked Isabella with a warm smile to the girl. “I was born in Cliff Town before Obsidian’s rule. In fact, Logain and I grew up in the same house.”

  “He was your brother?” asked Arc sympathetically.

  “Cousin, but he might as well have been my brother. I knew him better than anyone.”

  Jack dared to speak. “I’m sorry,” he said, still looking a little off-colour.

  “Thank you,” said Isabella, her voice shaking slightly. She cleared her throat and continued. “The pair of us worked as local mercenaries, taking out anything that took up residence a little too close for comfort. It was a perfect fit when the king took over. He was hesitant at first because we were only sixteen at the time, but we didn’t look back once we were accepted into his inner circle.”

  Alfonso cocked his head to the side. “My story is rather boring in comparison. I’m the king’s brother and have been with him since the day he was born.”

  “You’re part orc?” asked Julie, taken aback.

  “Half-brother, to be precise.”

  “And last but not least,” said Charlemagne, looking to the twins. “It’s not my place to ask about your parents, but how did you end up in the magic man’s company?”

  Arc’s face fell, knowing how this story was going to be spun and Julie’s look of glee confirmed it for him. “We kidnapped him,” she said, her smile so wide it could have torn her cheeks.

  “There’s important context—”

  Arc’s words were drowned out by uproarious laughter from the three. Even Jack started chuckling before shaking his head and resting it on his knees. Arc tried to get a word in, but everyone was too busy enjoying themselves at his expense. Eventually, he started laughing too, knowing just how ridiculous it sounded.

  Charlemagne dried his eyes on the inside lining of his jacket once he had calmed down enough to speak. “You meant to tell me that you can walk into the city all badass, but the two little whippersnappers with you kidnapped you.”

  “I was already unconscious,” said Arc. “After killing a group of bandits single-handedly, might I add.”

  “And the thing with the goblins happened right after we untied him,” said Julie.

  “I untied myself, I think you’ll find.”

  “Oh yes, I forgot about that. Yeah, you could very easily have killed us if you wanted to. I’m glad you weren’t a bandit too.”

  Arc dug his knuckles into her head and then ruffled her hair. “Not so comical now, is it?”

  “Drink up,” said Isabella and passed him the last of the whiskey, her eyes still wet from tears of mirth. Arc finished it off, enjoying the burn very much.

  Not long after the bottle was empty, Jack came around again in no small part due to the smell of alcohol being greatly diminished. He joined in the merriment, listening to the Right Hand’s tales of their scavenging missions, hunts for dangerous beasts that wandered too close to Cliff Town, and all about their exploits in dealing with some of the more troublesome people that strolled into town.

  With tiredness setting in, not aided by the whiskey and the calming, almost static-like buzzing of the consistent rainfall, everyone agreed it was time to get some sleep. They all knew that with New Carlington behind them, the trouble in Cliff Town was drawing closer with each mile covered. A night of laughter and merriment had been exactly what they needed to take their mind off their troubles.

  Arc was just dozing off when he felt a hand upon his chest. He knew rightly that it wasn’t Jack who was snoring like a hog on his other side, that left only one other option and she her blonde curls were brushing against his cheek as she nuzzled into him. Was Isabella awake or dreaming?

  That question was answered when her hand crawled up his chest and onto his cheek. Isabella tilted Arc’s head to face her and then kissed him gently on the lips. Her lips were soft and even with the whiskey on her breath, she had a faint taste of strawberry that he couldn’t explain, but he was not complaining. Why she was kissing him, he could not explain. Was it gratitude for the rescue mission? Was he just the handsome? Again, he was not complaining.

  “What was that for?” he whispered as Isabella finally pulled away and placed her hand back on his chest. He was unable to hide his smile even in the darkness.

  “I thought you needed it,” she said, drumming her fingers lightly. That too, felt nice. “Goodnight, Arc.”

  She rolled over and slept, leaving Arc as the last one awake in the cave. He thought about the last time he’d been kissed like that and how it had rapidly deteriorated. He placed two fingers underneath his scarf and pressed on his scars, reminiscing about both his worst memories and his best memories.

  “Gone,” he whispered, as his thoughts grew darker and darker. “She’s gone. She’s gone. She’s gone.”

  Perhaps if he said it enough times, he would believe it, but he’d been saying it for the last couple of years and he still had yet to convince himself of the truth. He wanted to wipe his mind, leaving him a blank slate, but in doing so he would risk losing his drive and perhaps choosing the quiet life alone in a small town. No, that was not good enough.

  Arc’s hand wandered down to the Golden Hawk and he stroke the smooth gold frame, thinking about how disappointed his former master would be if he gave up on the mission. It was his sworn duty to rid the world of evil and even if he was no longer a student of Dusk, he planned to see it through. Not just for the old man or for his own sense of vengeance, but because humanity deserved a real chance to rebuild.