Vilivian

by cmk

Vilivian
[Vilivian] Reference
[Vilivian]: Audition
[Vilivian] Round 1: Parallel Regrets
[Vilivian] Round 2: Good Fun
[Vilivian]: Round 3: The Allegory Between Instances of Aptitude and Practice

Vilivian

Reference Sheet
Audition	Passed
Round 1	Won
Round 2	Won
Round 3	Lost to Piano & Forte
Tournament Status:	Lost in R3

CMK

Aliases/Nickname(s)

cmk

Pronouns/Gender/Sex

[entry/entry/entry]

Vocation

writer

Discord:

cmk#1730

[Vilivian] Reference

Original Doc - Vilivian's reference sheet.pdf

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-- [Quote source]

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Table of Contents

Backstory
Personality
Abilities
Strengths
Weaknesses
Gallery
Author's Notes

Backstory

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Personality

NAME

Aliases/Nickname(s)

[entry]

Profile Data

Race

[entry]

Pronouns/Gender/Sex

[entry/entry/entry]

Age

[entry]

Weight/Height/Build

[entry/entry/entry]

B/W/H Size

[entry]

Hair/Eye/Skin Colour

[entry/entry/entry]

Distinguishing Marks

[entry 1]
[entry 2]

Abilities

[entry 1]
[entry 2]

Strengths

[entry]

Weaknesses

[entry]

Preferences

Weapon(s)

[entry 1]
[entry 2]

Likes

[entry]

Dislikes

[entry]

Creator

[Link to Creator's sheet]

Abilities

Ability 1

Ability 2

Ability 3

Strengths

Weaknesses

Gallery


Competitor headshot - by Vashle	Finals portrait - by Vashle	Prize - by Vashle

Author's Notes

[Vilivian]: Audition

Original doc

Vilivian listened intently to the distant sounds of battle. A few dozen men descended into the treacherous depths, and after several hours only a handful heartbeats remained slowly closing in on the penultimate room – where she resided.

Surrounded by stone, with a river flowing in the tunnel on her right side, Vilivian was sitting in the middle of the chamber with her legs crossed, holding on tightly to the large sword sheathed in a dark blue scabbard.

Behind her lied the stone door to the inner sanctum where the end goal for all that ventured into the maze-like complex of caves and caverns was hidden - a holy artefact capable of granting eternal youth.

Vilivian closed her eyes and prepared her psyche for combat. It’s been over a century since someone managed to venture all the way down here. Several, since someone forced her out of her human form.

Single mistake can lead to her fall. She can’t allow herself to die. Not yet. Not until she keeps her promise.

She clutched on tighter to the sword.

As she descended into tranquil meditation, she suddenly sensed a movement. She opened her eyes but saw no one at the entrance.

Instead, she lowered her gaze and rested at a small fox with white fur and strange markings on both its head and puffy tail. It sat in front of her, staring her down, slightly wagging its tail.

Nixen? No, it’s two tails short. She doesn’t remember any fox-like creatures belonging to her clan either. Perhaps it belongs to the humans upstairs?

It mattered not, she concluded quickly. She couldn’t allow her thoughts to stray like that right before combat . . .

Then again, some sustenance before battle would do well for her right about now.

Vilivian’s calm demeanour turned ravenous as she launched her hand forward trying to reach the fox's neck and then snap it in one motion, but not a blink could pass before the animal disappeared from her sight and all she managed to grasp was an envelope of some kind.

Perplexed and calm again, she looked over a beautiful red letter with a golden seal protecting its contents.

A message? For me?

The seal carried a sigil she didn’t recognize, but she could sense some manner of magic surrounding it. She unsealed it, and inside she found a plain note that read a few largely written words.

Reach the Crossroads and claim your wish.

Vilivian slowly mouthed every word while following along with her finger. When she finally managed to fully read the passage and comprehend its meaning she found herself more dumbfounded than before.

“Crossroads?” “Wish?” She frowned in disappointment that the first written message she’s gotten in her life spoke rubbish.

Suddenly, Vilivian felt a jolt of excitement as the smell of blood filled her nostrils. She cast the letter aside and fixated her attention on the new arrivals in her chamber.

Three in total; the bald one in the middle had his otherwise turquoise tunic shredded at left shoulder and completely soaked with his blood. He carried a longsword in his right, bandaged arm. He was clearly exhausted, but his eyes remained determined. Same was true for his companions.

On his right, the blonde archer had his hairs near his face stuck together with blood. Though his bow fastened on his back remained nothing but a fancy stick with a string at this moment; the quiver at his side was empty and all he wielded was a small hatchet.

The last man, on the bald man’s other side, managed to carry only a leftover of his heater shield. His left arm was lost; all that remained was a stump, freshly bandaged and blood-soaked. He was on the verge of falling down and it showed but remained steadfast standing near his companions, stubborn as an oak of a man that he was.

Vilivian stood up with her Friend’s sword in hands and fixed it into place.

‘Shite.’ Said the archer quietly as he saw her force the sheath into the ground through the cold stone floor.

‘I say,’ the bald man’s voice echoed in the chamber, ‘You’re no ordinary waif, are you?’

‘On the whole, I fare far differently from your kind.’ Vilivian positioned herself between the sheath and the men. ‘I wouldn’t take me lightly, if I were you.’

‘We won’t be threatened away, wench.’ Said the disarmed shield man. ‘We may have lost many men-at-arms on our way down here, but we still outnumber you three to one.’

‘A notion made redundant given your state. And my “threat” was merely a fact for you to consider, should you attempt to challenge me.’

‘Do we have a choice in that matter?’

‘Few can make it through the half-point of this dungeon. Fewer reach this very chamber. I conscript the strongest and most vicious of the beasts roaming the world above. Retrace your steps, and claim their heads. Return topside with bagged glory at your side and most importantly – your lives.’

Bald man chuckled through pain, perplexing the otherwise stone-faced Vilivian.

He raised his sword and pointed at her.

‘I am the Prince of England. The future ruler of the lands this dungeon’s adjacent to. My family’s been looking for it for several generations and I’m fully aware that it will relocate the moment we exit onto the surface. It will take two ages to find it. It’s now or never.’

His retainers remained unflinching; posing battle-readiness and determination.

Centuries ago, she wouldn’t have thought twice about facing someone like the Prince. Her duty as a guardian and ignorance of an outside world compelled her to throw hands at the throat of any guest in this dreaded chamber.

She would kill and feel jubilant, but not because she took life but because she was satisfied and proud of fulfilling her duty.

However, oft happened that the challengers would only descend down here to die. Spent by battles above; hoping to find refuge, but finding only their tomb.

Sometimes she’d talk them up, right before they bled out. They’d tell her of the tales and views above. Other times they’d ask her to pass along their last message to their loved ones. Though she had no means to do that herself she employed the courier when she was able to.

She saw the same men standing in front of her. She wondered how many dominions fell apart because heirs apparent were killed by her.

But abstaining from this fight would be insulting. Least she could do was honour their valour.

‘Your titles and lands have no value here, Prince. Only strength. Your resolve, however, has been noted.’ She brushed back the streak of her fire-red hair. ‘Show me what you can do.’

‘Will you not reach for the sword behind you?’ Prince asked.

‘I shan’t. It’s not for me to wield.’ She clenched her hands into fists and leaned into a fighting stance. ‘As you were.’

***

Vilivian stared at the contents of the letter whilst standing among the fallen bodies of the prince and his retainers. She couldn’t help herself. Ever since she read that message her thoughts have been partially occupied by the implications and possibilities.

My wish, she clutched the letter, crumbling its edges with her fingers. She doesn’t possess such a thing. Only a millennium of duty, isolation and unkept promise.

Crossroads . . . She’d like to at least investigate the matter of this wish, but did it even exist?

She hid the letter in her ragged knickers. She noticed that Prince breathed and managed to muster enough strength to crawl away while she was preoccupied with her thoughts. She cursed her own negligence. Or was it a blessing?

Vilivian approached and crouched in front of the prince that desperately tried to scutter away using only his elbows. She broke his legs after all. Or was it ribs? She lost herself in thought halfway through that fight.

‘Are you wise?’ she asked.

Prince hissed and answered through gritted teeth.

‘You mock me.’ He stopped and looked at her straight into her emerald eyes. His glare remained defiant. ‘I lay a broken man and you lavish in your superiority. At least have some decency to finish me off!’

‘I’ve no contact with the topside world, Prince. I hear very few tales down here. Answer my questions, and I might be able to grant you a new purpose.’

‘I will not be pitied!’ He shouted angrily.

She waited out the echo.

‘Think of it as an opportunity, Prince.’ She pressed on relentlessly. ‘No heirs apparent should die pointless deaths.’

Prince was clearly agitated by hearing her call his expedition “pointless.” Vilivian knew exactly how these humans that came down here felt. They did not appreciate their short lifespans enough. They were too attached to their lives. And that’s why she knew he was going to cooperate.

‘Fine.’ He said at last. ‘What do you want to know?’

‘Do you know of a place called “Crossroads?”’

Prince scoffed. ‘An old wives’ tale?’

‘So, you know of it?’

‘“A place where dreams come true” or so they say, but you need a very exclusive invitation apparently. And no one knows how to get there.’

Invitation. Vilivian was already in possession of one. All that remained was the means of transportation. She left the Prince and approached the blade she stuck in the floor. Without any trouble she pulled it out.

Her right side of torso ached as she clutched it close, but it was one painful memory amidst the sea of soothing ones.

She was not unattracted to the idea of leaving this place. Her mind often considered the possibilities and it was as simple as leaving through the front door.

Yet, it was difficult. She felt guilty over the prospect of abandoning duty she performed her whole life. Defending the artefact was the only thing she knew for most of her time spent here.

She gave a glance to the door to the inner sanctum and with a heavy heart turned her back.

For the sake of her impossible promise, she was willing to abandon her integrity as the vanguard of this place.

With the scabbard in one hand she approached the Prince and grabbed the wounded royal by his collar.

‘What are you doing?!’ he shouted as he tried to push Vilivian’s grip away.

‘Thank you, Prince.’ She said as she dragged him to the river. ‘Allow me to repay your kindness.’

‘You said you’d let me go!’

‘No. I said I’d give you a new purpose.’

‘You deceived me!’

She grabbed his throat and hung him above the water. Underneath the surface a mirage of green colours hinted at a presence of the spirits of the drowned; awaiting their next meal.

Slimy, dark arms reached out of the water, trying to reach the prince by his ankles. Two dozen of them, ravenous for the fresh blood of the living. It’s been too long since their last meal.

‘I don’t do tricks, Prince. It’s your kind that’s renowned for it. All who challenge me resign their life and only through victory can they claim it back. I gave you a chance. You didn’t take it and it’s time for you to die. All I can do now is to make sure your blue blood doesn’t go to waste. The Ferryman must be paid his toll; be it blood or gold.’

She dropped him into the waters and the Drowned immediately reached his body. Prince struggled, desperately pleading for her help as the arms reached around him and slowly dragged him down. Vilivian patiently waited for him to be taken, unbothered by his distress.

Finally, he disappeared in the deep river and the water returned to its original colour. The old magic made its leave.

A bell sounded in the darkness of a tunnel to the right of Vilivian. From it emerged a small wooden boat. The golden bell was hanging at the end of the curved post on the rear.

The vehicle was manned by the Ferryman; a humanoid, robed in tatters much like hers. Its face was completely unseen under the hood; not a shadow but a glimpse of darkness impossible to illuminate. Its rowing hands – the only visible part of its body - were bandaged by a white cloth. On its hip, tied to a cincture was a small lamp – its glass walls emanating a blue hue of light.

The boat stopped next to Vilivian. Ferryman pulled out its oar and stared at her with its darkness.

‘Can you take me to a place called “Crossroads?”’ she asked. ‘“Where dreams come true?’”

Ferryman brandished an oar affirmatively.

‘Let us be off then.’

Vilivian stepped onto the boat and took a seat, clutching her keepsake. She felt her stomach turning. She was abandoning her duty. Shame washed over her like a cold shower.

She rejected her mantle as the Sentinel of Graal, and all that remained was Matriarch Vilivian.

Thick, white fog enveloped the boat and moved alongside the underground river. It was like moving through a white puff.

Suddenly, Vilivian was blinded by a light. She, who spent her whole life in a dark cave barely lit by glowing fungi, was unaccustomed to the overwhelming shine of the sun.

All at once she experienced completely new sensations. Smell of the river mixed with the fragrance of flowers blooming on a nearby meadow. Distant sounds of creatures she never heard before and people. She could sense so many of them and not one was near expiring.

Ferryman stopped the boat at the nearest suitable bank and Vilivian got out sword in hand. She was so used to the cold feeling of stone in her chamber that the sensation of grass underneath her naked feet fascinated her.

‘Thank you, Ferryman.’ She said back to the ghastly figure. The Ferryman tipped its eternal darkness-holding hood and rowed away upstream.

She turned back again and saw a person staring at her. Clad in black and white attire which was antonymous to her wild and abundant hair, not to mention her horns and ears like knives.

Her skin was as if covered in light burns. Unsurprisingly so; Vilivian could sense that woman’s blood carried scalding levels of ardour for destruction.

Holding a basket full of mushrooms in her right hand and a lone mushroom in her left, she stared Vilivian down.

Former sentinel scrambled trying to remember good manners her Friend taught her a long time ago.

‘Good afternoon,’ she said rather awkwardly.

‘It’s morning,’ retorted the woman. She approached Vilivian. ‘Where’d you come from?’

Vilivian realized that it’s better not to mention the specifics of her former abode.

‘A cave.’ She answered.

‘Don’t be a smartass.’

‘I do not lie,’ Vilivian said sternly. ‘I received a letter mentioning this place.’ She thought for a second. ‘This is the Crossroads, right?’

‘Letter?’ Her face warmed up. ‘And yes, that’s the place.’

‘The letter mentioned coming here to “claim my wish”,’ Vilivian pulled out a crumpled piece of paper from her knickers. ‘Therefore, I employed the Ferryman’s services to have me brought here, to the Crossroads.’

‘The Ferryman? You mean the chap that just rowed his boat up the waterfall like it’s nobody’s business?’

‘The very same. I find them to be a very reliable and competent entity.’

‘Right, right. Say, wasn’t there a fox attached to this letter?’

‘Fox?’

‘Yes. White and fluffy little fella with strange markings.’

‘Well, there was a fox . . .’

‘“Was?”’

‘I tried to eat it. I think it might’ve sensed my intentions and . . . ran away. Very quickly, I might add.’

There was a moment of silence while the mushroom-picking woman grinned ear-to-ear, baring her fangs.

‘Oh, this I have to hear.’

‘Sorry?’ Vilivian was confused.

‘Don’t worry, you’ve come to the right place.’ She took a glance at Vilivian’s back and frowned. ‘Anyhow, my name is Saki. I am the owner and bartender at the Fox Den. A local tavern.’

‘I am Vilivian, Sentinel of—’ she bit her lip and started again. ‘I am Vilivian of Lilith. I’m a Matriarch. It’s good to meet you, Bartender.’

They shook hands. Vilivian was impressed how much control Saki had over her strength despite her destructive ambitions.

‘You can call me Saki.’

‘I won’t. But thank you.’

‘. . . Sure. Let’s get to Fox Den. We’re going to get you some clean clothes and a meal first.’

Vilivian was, again, dumbfounded by that proposal.

‘Why, what is wrong with my current outfit?’

Vilivian looked down. True, her tunic was barely holding on and had myriad holes in it, but the lower garments were in good enough condition. They can certainly last at least another half a century.

‘You need to look decent if you’re going to take part in the tournament. There’ll be children watching, you know?’

‘Tournament?’

‘Not to mention, it’s rather breezy in these, innit?’

‘Quite windy, true. Very well, lead on.’

***

Several patrons occupied some of the Fox Den’s tables at this time of the day. They were regulars apparently. Humbly tending to their drinks while Saki helped Vilivian get clean and dressed up.

Vilivian was bewildered by the showering apparatus. Hot water flowing at command without any use of magic. And people use it every day. Every day! Vilivian had confidence in her fiendish endurance, but wouldn’t bathing that often be detrimental to ordinary human’s skin?

Afterwards she was given a set of new clothes along with the fitting undergarments. Vilivian was attired in a red blouse along with black trousers and leather boots. Saki even tied Vilivian’s long hair into a braid, finished off with a colourful ribbon, much to latter’s dismay.

Keeper of the Fox Den observed as Vilivian clumsily used a knife and fork to cut the meat.

‘So, you didn’t even notice the letter?’

‘No.’ Vilivian tried to pin down the elusive pea with her fork. ‘It wasn’t after I failed to grab the fox that I realized there was one.’

Vilivian managed to nail the pea and triumphantly ate it. The silverware lightly stung the insides of her mouth.

‘I see. And why exactly did you want to eat that fox? Did it tempt you somehow? Appeal to you?’

Vilivian made a really confused expression.

‘I was hungry.’

Saki nodded. ‘Seconds?’ she asked.

Vilivian pushed away her plate.

‘I’d like you to tell me about the wish instead.’

‘Right. See—’

Door to the tavern opened with a slam.

‘SAKI!’ shouted the arrival. ‘A terrible atrocity had occurred!’

‘. . . Perfect timing.’

Saki sighed and reached for a pint mug. Rest of patrons turned back to their drinks once they realized who the newcomer was.

She approached the counter. Jingling of bells accompanied her every step. She was just slightly taller than Vilivian, thanks to her heels.

Woman carried herself with elegance matching the dark dress despite the sudden outburst. She sat down at the counter next to Vilivian and crossed her legs. Saki had already put a pint of ale in front of hair.

Woman drank it all and put it down in one motion after which she let out a satisfied giggle. Vilivian watched in fascination.

‘She drank it all in one go . . .’

‘It’s Chifu. She does that.’

Chifu turned to Vilivian. She just noticed that she had two irises.

‘Why, hello there, cutie,’ Chifu giggled as Saki poured another filling of ale.

‘Good morning.’

‘It’s afternoon. My name’s Chifu. I’m your friendly neighbourhood kitsune. How do you do?’

‘I am Matriarch Vilivian of Lilith. It’s good to meet you, Kitsune.’

‘“Matriarch?” Now that’s some strong title. Oh, and please, call me Chifu. Everyone else does.’

‘Thank you, but I won’t.’

‘Why not?

‘My kind uses names only for our friends or family.’

Chifu laughed.

‘Well, why didn’t you say so from the start?! Let’s become friends! The best of friends!’

Vilivian watched in disgust as the kitsune wrapped her left arm around her and took the pint into her other hand.

‘Don’t touch me.’ Said Vilivian coldly. ‘Please.’

‘Nuh-uh. How else are we going to become friends, Viliv? Saki! Best ale for my best gal!’

Vilivian cringed. She had no intention of getting pulled into the fox’s drinking games, but she felt as if she was losing control of the situation.

‘I don’t like ale.’ She mumbled out.

‘Make it wine, then!’ Chifu shouted with unrelenting fervour.

‘I don’t—’

But there already was a glass of wine standing in front of her. Vilivian looked at Saki pleadingly, but the bartender only shook her head.

‘Just let it happen, lass. She won’t let up.’

Resigned, Vilivian picked up the glass. She sensed the fruity fragrance as she put it up to her lips. The combined sensation of multiple flavours lingered when she swallowed the sip.

Wine was good and she hated herself for enjoying it.

She put down the glass and Chifu squealed quietly.

‘Yay~’ she drank her ale. She put down her ale.

Then her gaze wandered lower.

‘Oh, wow, what’s this?’

She reached for an item resting on Vilivian’s lap – her keepsake sword sheathed.

All Vilivian’s monstrous instincts lit up the moment she noticed Chifu’s hand. She instantly grabbed her wrist and didn’t let go.

‘Handssss. Offff.’ Vilivian growled. She was barely keeping herself from transforming.

But Chifu didn’t seem to be bothered by the hostility showcased by the Matriarch.

‘Goodness me!’ Chifu said surprised and turned to the bartender. ‘Saki, I think her grip rivals yours!’

‘Cease your elaborate trickery, Vixen.’

Chifu grinned.

‘Trickery! That’s good! That’s fitting! You may call me Trickster, then! Until you inevitably become my best friend, of course.’

Saki decided to finally interject.

‘Wasn’t there some terrible atrocity occurring, Chifu?’

Chifu looked at her horned friend, and thought for a while. Her expression changed to that of indifference. ‘Oh, right. That.’ She said in a bored tone and turned back to Vilivian with her mischievous smile back on her face.

‘Mind letting me go, love? It’s hard to drink when you’re grasping my hand as if I was your first love. Unless . . .?’ she tilted her head, exposing her neck.

Vilivian released her hold. She turned forward to her glass of wine and sipped it.

‘Your culture confounds me.’

‘I think that’s just Chifu,’ Saki smiled and turned to kitsune. ‘So, what happened?’

Chifu downed the rest of her ale in one go again and put the mug down. Saki was already on the refilling duty.

‘Oh, Saki, my dearest friend!’ she cried out. ‘The most horrifying occurrence had occurred! I was up, in my humble abode, meditating . . .’

‘Napping.’ Saki decided to storm through Chifu’s rant by cleaning the glassware.

‘Meditating,’ Chifu insisted. ‘While all of a sudden one of my familiars – you know them, you love them – appeared before me! Strung out and exhausted, terrified and shaking! Oh, I could only wonder what kind of monster would terrify one of my cute little foxes like that!’

To Vilivian, Chifu’s voice started grating on her. It was increasingly more vexing to listen to her, so the matriarch decided to mute herself out of conversation completely and focus on the drink. She decided to wait for the kitsune to leave the tavern before she asks Saki about the wish.

‘Argh, the things I would do to the scoundrel that endangered my kin! The things I’d do to make them regret it! Argh, I will find them and make them pay and . . . and . . .’ Chifu yawned and leaned on the counter. ‘Eh, this is boring. I wanted to make you feel all bad so that you’d try and make it up for me and I’d have you become my friend, but no. Boring You’re boring, Viliv.’

Vilivian looked at her in shock.

‘You knew?’

‘Duh. What do you think I came here for?’

Saki and Vilivian answered simultaneously.

‘To drink.’

Chifu pouted. ‘I could’ve come for something different! Like tax collection!’

‘You don’t do that.’ Said Saki.

‘Well, maybe I should start!’ she exclaimed and went back to her melted and comfortable self. She sipped her ale. ‘Who gets an invite is often a lottery. You’re not the first food stamper who tried getting her claws on one of my familiars. But most often they manage to escape intact along with the letter. You’ve some quick hands if you managed to get that scrap of paper before my familiar jolted away.’

‘Thank you.’

‘You’re welcome. Foxes can transport their recipients here after they agree to come. Letters also wield that power though I suppose you weren’t resolved enough to join us, were you?’

‘I was resolved enough to abandon my duty – have been for a few centuries. This invitation of yours was the kind of push I needed to make my final decision. And the circumstances allowed me to use Ferryman’s services, too. As for the wish . . .’ she grasped the sheath. Memory of received injury coursed through her body. ‘I’m old enough to know that nothing comes without a cost.’

‘You’re not the only one who’s interested in that wish. There’re many people . . . with many desires they’d like to fulfil. That’s why we’re organizing a tournament. Three rounds. The champion gets a wish. Simple, isn’t it?’

‘Too simple. What do you get from all of this?’

‘Fun.’

Vilivian frowned, taken aback.

‘You might’ve enjoyed a millennium staring at the stone wall, Viliv, but I bore very easily. I can’t handle an afternoon without something happening, much less three hundred sixty-five thousand. So yes; the invites and the tournament? All for my personal indulgence.’

She finished the remaining ale.

Vilivian shook her head.

‘It can’t be that simple.’

‘It is. As simple as saying “Very well. I will participate in this tournament, Chifu.”’

Vilivian hesitated.

‘I’ve come this far . . .’

Chifu yet again burst out in almost hysterical laughter.

‘Far? Darling, you’re barely done with the formalities. Those rounds will not be your typical knight-errands, warlords or princes wishing to prove themselves a little more than bland stereotypes. No. They’re all as determined as they are unique. Variety being the spice of life and all that. Well then,’ Chifu raised her refilled mug. ‘What say you, Matriarch?’

Vilivian knew that she wasn’t going to just be handed over the wish. But perhaps it is for the better. She had finally done what her Friend been telling her to do for so many years. She left that accursed place. She was now in the same spot as her sisters. A vagabond.

She felt as if she had committed a grave sin. It was hard to let go of her sense of duty after so many years, stubbornly clutching to it. Ideally, she’d envision herself going back to that chamber after fulfilling her promise, but it didn’t matter.

Vilivian could sense that Chifu was not just some beastfolk with a talent for the arcane. There was certainly a great power within her and if the spatial magic she uses is any indicator of her other talents then she just might be able to grant Vilivian her wish.

At this point, Vilivian is willing to take any chance to keep her promise.

‘Very well,’ Vilivian looked at Chifu. Vixen raised her eyebrow curiously. ‘I will participate in this tournament,’ she paused for a second. Chifu smiled. ‘Trickster.’

Chifu cliqued her tongue. ‘Oh, you teasing minx!’ she laughed. ‘I promise you, by the end of this tournament, I will have you call me by my name.’

‘Your tail also appeared,’ said Saki.

‘My tail?!’ Vilivian panicked and turned around. There was indeed a tail – but it wasn’t her own, but was instead a piece of giant fluff sticking out from above her buttocks. ‘Huh?’

‘Cute, isn’t it? Consider it a sign of status as a participant. It shouldn’t hinder any of your abilities, so you needn’t to worry about it affecting you.’

‘Its size is distracting.’

‘Just ignore it.’ Said Saki.

Vilivian did as told and turned back to her refilled glass of wine.

‘It’s on the house,’ said the bartender. ‘Good luck.’

Saki tended to rest of the patrons. Vilivian was left to her own drink. Chifu seemed to have lost any interest in talking as well. She sipped her ale and giggled to herself occasionally.

Vilivian never expected that her first contact with a civilized world would be in Crossroads of all places. She could’ve gone anywhere, but she hired the Ferryman to take her here. It was refreshing; meeting people without any killing intent.

Yet, she couldn’t help but have this gnawing feeling in the back of her head. She knew she didn’t really belong here. She didn’t really belong anywhere but that place.

‘. . . What will happen if I lose?’

She directed the question to herself rather than to anyone in particular, but Chifu answered nonetheless.

‘Well, you’re free to spectate until the end of the tournament, of course. After that, you can do whatever. I’m not going to just throw you out like some rubbish. If you’d really wanted I could bring you back to your world. Even that cave of yours if you really want.’

Vilivian glanced at the Trickster. Chifu was playing with her white, gold-embellished pipe; balancing it and spinning atop of her finger.

‘Frankly, I don’t know why you’d ever bother protecting that little cup.’ Chifu said mockingly. ‘I say, let the people find out on their own that their age is the least of their problems.’

‘Short lifespans lead them to desperate measures,’ Vilivian recalled the Prince. ‘They fear they won’t meet their ambitions in their lives.’

‘They’ll reach them all in a century or two. Then there will be nothing for them to do.’

She inhaled from her pipe and exhaled to the side. Even on the other side, Vilivian could smell the tobacco.

‘Eternal life is boring,’ said Chifu.

Vilivian nodded.

‘Isn’t it?’

***

[Vilivian] Round 1: Parallel Regrets

Original doc

Sunset over the Ume Bay painted the sky orange. The alleys of Phoenix Coast were filled with people. Day and night workers exchanging shifts, patrons going to and from taverns and few merchants closing up their stalls and shops for the day.

Vilivian walked through the streets as she usually would ever since she arrived in the Crossroads. The fresh air in her lungs, the warm sunlight teasing her skin. Novelties of the outside have yet to wear off on her.

And yet, she had a hard time suppressing the sheer anxiety stemming from her inexperience in dealing with crowds. She couldn’t help glancing back every several seconds and would reflexively hold on to her keepsake sword, tied at her back, every time someone would come close to her; anyone a potential thief. Each look directed at her felt judgmental. She felt cornered like an animal in a maze with her humanity barely holding her back.

A wolf in sheep’s clothing. A fitting metaphor in Vilivian’s opinion. One she did not fully understand until she set out on her first trudge through the Crossroads.

Some would presume her fears exaggerated. True enough, but while the crime is at its lowest whether it’s because the residents here are a decent bunch or because the would-be offenders know better than to cross guards and their benefactor remains a fact unknown.

Whatever the answer to that query was, Vilivian opted for vigilance even it was mentally taxing.

And it was on her usual route towards the docks that she broke that concentration and allowed herself to be mesmerized.

A mural painting on the side of the gate that led down the docks compelled her to approach it.

The depiction presented a village at the night time. Comically large stars illuminated the straw shacks and wooden houses, placed atop the gardens of flowers just above the running river that mirrored the sky at the bottom of the painting.

She approached the mural and touched it.

‘Hey.’

Sensation of memories flowed from within, but they were not of the place like the one pictured. There was no fragrance of flowers. No chirping of night time creatures and no wind whistling through the grass.

‘Hey!’

There was only cold and damp confinement barely illuminated by the cave fungi accompanied by the sound of water dripping from the deeps and a voice that sounded just like—

‘HEY!’

Vilivian snapped back to reality and let go of the wet mural. She looked to the side.

Young and red-skinned oni glared at her. Two small horns stuck out of his unkempt short black hair and a tail was tied around his waist. His white t-shirt and cargo shorts were stained with a plethora of colours. In his right hand he was holding a paintbrush whilst his left was stained with paint much like his shirt. He appeared upset as he glared at Vilivian through his bushy eyebrows. She had no idea how to react.

‘Sorry?’ she guessed.

‘Well, you better be,’ he exclaimed. ‘What’d you touch the wet pain for, eh? Look at your hand, be all dirty now!’

Vilivian looked at her hand. Indeed, wet paint from the mural lingered on her fingers. She wiped it off on her black pants.

Much to the oni’s dismay.

‘AAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHH!!!’ he yelled out. ‘What are you doing?! Do you have any idea how hard it is to wash it off? And it’s such a nice pair of pants, too!’

‘It’s fine.’ Vilivian still had a hard time comprehending the whims of fashion. ‘It’s wasted on me.’

‘Well, that doesn’t mean you should waste it! What did denim ever do to you?!’

‘Hypocrite.’ Vilivian argued, strangely irritated at the audacity of the child. ‘You’re stained as well.’

‘Duh. I painted this whole thing. It’s a given I’d get dirty in the process.’ He said proudly.

Vilivian’s irritation momentarily subsided. She looked at the youth in shock.

‘You made this?’

The boy chuckled and crossed his arms with confidence. Some of the paint from the brush splattered on the mural.

‘A masterpiece, isn’t it?’ he said with a smug smile.

‘It’s certainly inspiring . . . I think I’ve seen a picture similar to this in a book before?’ She hesitated. While she was still compelled to touch the mural again, in order to relieve the memories out of curiosity, she restrained herself from doing so.

‘Hah. To think somebody else would paint that dump.’

‘Still, this artwork must’ve been a great undertaking . . .’

‘Hah. Well, you know me . . .’

‘I do not.’

But the boy had already started talking.

‘T’was like any other morning, see. I get out of my room and think, wow, what a grand day it is, so I go out into town and take my usual stroll looking for fun and trouble and I find this wicked good waffle place. I take a couple for a road as my elevenses and keep on going on towards the beach, because let me tell you that place is smashing in the mornings and that’s when I come across this wall. Yes, this exact wall and I think to myself “Now that’s the least piss-reeking wall in this town I’ve come across so far!” and with me not being able to pass this chance to celebrate my finding I decided to paint on it. I leg it back to the tavern and ask Chiefu if I can do my artwork. She was on the lash last night, so she vomited, and I took that as a yes. As I was dashing back here I realized that I think better when I’m running so I did two laps around the town and planned out the painting in the meantime. When I was about to get to work I realized I had no paint so I started running again, looking for someplace to get me some and wouldn’t you know it, there’s a whole cargo boat down in the docks with crates filled with cans of the stuff just waiting to be used! I nicked a couple of them brought them here and let me tell you – the beginnings? They’re the hardest. Especially when you’re holding a waffle in one hand and try to paint with the other. I finished my food and went looking for a brush but the morning was ending so pressed for time I thought – Who has the bushiest hair in the town? Answer? My aunt! So, I go pick it up and come back here and then,’ he presented with his arms the painting. ‘My magnum opus.’

Vilivian was staring. She’d never hear someone talk so much, in such a short time and yet to manage to convey all the information so earnestly.

The boy grinned at her before he blinked and looked up at the sky.

‘It’s getting really late, innit? Oh, well, off the clock to get some grub. Name’s Volley, by the way.’

With a smile he extended his arm. Vilivian looked at him and then at it.

“Volley” didn’t seem to be aware of the effect the painting had on her. She wondered if the sensations she encountered really stemmed from the mural and wasn’t but a hallucination caused by recent stress and anxiety.

However, nothing like that ever happened. For now, she crossed it off as a mental fluke caused by her inability to properly adjust to a new environment.

‘I am Vilivian. It's a pleasure to make your acquaintance, Child.’ She ignored his hand.

He retracted it anyway, indignant.

‘Child?! You could be my sister!’

‘I am not one.’

‘Yeah, no crap, that doesn’t change a fact you’re no older than twenty-five!’

‘I’m . . . much older than that.’

‘What? Thirty-five?’

‘Much more.’

Volley scratched his head and grinned, showing off his fangs.

‘Good for you! You’re looking very well for your age!’

‘Thank you?’ Vilivian was still uncertain about compliments. People in Crossroads carried honesty completely differently from the people Vilivian faced while she was still a Sentinel.

The oni boy smiled again.

‘You’re welcome.’ He discarded the paintbrush to the side and stretched. ‘I am going to take my leave now, if you don’t mind. I’ve been at it all day and that got me real hungry. My aunt’s probably getting pissed, too.’ He turned around to leave before he waved. ‘Good night, Miss Viliv!’

‘. . . Good night.’ Vilivian waved back, slightly surprised.

Their parting was a given, but she couldn’t help but feel a little sad. It was entertaining talking to Volley. Or at least, listening to him talk. His enthusiasm was certainly unmatched by anyone at Crossroads.

And yet, strangely familiar.

She looked at the mural again. The village shown in all its rural splendour. She meant to ask him if it was where he came from, but she doubted she’d manage to get a word in with that boy.

She contemplated touching it again, but out of respect for the young artist she refrained. At least, until the paint dries off.

‘Excuse me, Miss?’

Vilivian turned around to see two dock-workers approach her. They were relatively familiar people. She’d often see the likes of them working with the boats down in the docks. At times, she’d stop and observe. Sea life was a complete unknown and she showed great curiosity regarding life in the waters.

But the men in front of her didn’t seem to be keen on the idea of exchanging cultural differences and the inner workings of marine life-style. In fact, the man in front seemed to be profusely agitated to the point where his monobrow resembled the letter V.

Vilivian might’ve been socially inept, but she wasn’t a fool. The tension in the air was almost tangible. She needn’t use her sensing abilities to realize that men in front of her were a potential threat, and as with any threat, she decided to face it head on.

‘Gentlemen.’

Worker in the back appeared more reluctant and hesitant than his colleague. One in front immediately pointed his finger low behind Vilivian. She followed with her eyes and found empty cans of paint.

She looked at her fingers, still slightly stained with the river’s blue, same as her pants she tried wiping off with earlier. Her foot touched something. She looked down and noticed a brush Volley left. The hairs painted the side of her boot with white colour.

Implication was obvious and her opinion of the oni boy dropped significantly.

‘There’s a misunderstanding.’

‘It always is.’

‘I’m not a thief.’

‘It’s hard to tell, Miss. Come with us down to the docks and we’ll figure it out with the guard. If you’re innocent, you’ll be on your way.’

‘No.’ Vilivian frowned and stepped back. ‘This has nothing to do with me.’

‘Listen,’ he reached out his hand to try and grab her.

And for a brief moment all Vilivian saw was a red flash as her instincts took over. When she regained her self-control, the painting on the mural had a slight human-sized indent and the man who reached out to her was lying on his back, with some of the paint and pieces of the wall stuck to him.

Vilivian’s body went on full alert. As she heard voices of shock from the few passers-by behind her with right hand she clutched onto her keepsake, fearing for thieves. Her left arm’s veins were glowing with blue light, ready to cast magic at any moment.

In her extreme anxiety, the stares of strangers burned more than any silver. She was a foul beast, unleashed in the middle of the town and her human side struggled to keep her beastly instincts in check.

Surrounded. Cornered. A scenario so very familiar to her. She sensed fear and tension and her own body mimicked that. She needed to get out and the only possible way was to slaughter through them. She fixed her eyes on the knocked-out worker’s friend. Meek in stature, fearful, but refused to abandon his friend. He wouldn’t struggle . . .

Suddenly, from the direction of the docks appeared a new figure. Vilivian focused her eyes on the silhouette boldly approaching her. Clad in elegant dark clothes and a black hat, the arrival had crimson skin and carried a bag on his side.

It wasn’t until he was but a few meters away from her when his presence caused her to take on a defensive stance and step back.

The beast within cried louder as it reflected what she sensed in his blood. It was marked with alien taint. Searing and aggressive.

‘Stop,’ she growled. And so, he did. He retracted his last step and raised his hands to the level of his neck and held them there. She managed to get a good look on his face. It was sharp and attractive and the man didn’t carry any sign of apprehension on his expression.

‘I’m not here to melee, Miss.’ He proclaimed loudly. ‘Though, I suppose you could say I’m here regarding that unfortunate thieving accident.’

‘I’m not a thief!’

‘I never claimed you are,’ he said calmly. ‘Alas, your reaction leaves little in your defence. Then again, I know just how fraught with distress those kinds of events can be for some people,’ he looked to the side and muttered out, as if to himself, ‘I truly do.’ He then turned back to Vilivian. ‘The matter of thievery was handled. The guard was called and they found the receipt. If you follow me down to the docks, we will be able to resolve the matter appropriately, without any further injuries.’ He glanced at the man lying on the floor. ‘Why, I believe even this little incident can be easily swept under the rug.’

‘And if I don’t come along?’

The negotiator thought for a while.

‘Then, I will try, albeit reluctantly, do my best to drag you by myself and will most likely be brutally savaged in the process.’

‘That,’ Vilivian started sharply, but saw reason. The man was speaking with reason, and though his words clashed with the ferocity of his blood, his confidence instilled calmness. ‘Is an accurate assessment.’

‘Forsooth? Would you kindly come with me, then? For my sake?’

Vilivian’s instincts were still on edge, but she relented from her fighting stance. Veins on her arm stopped glowing and she relaxed her expression.

The elegant man lowered his arms and bowed his head with a thankful smile.

‘Thank you, Miss. I knew you’d come around. I am a travelling writer.’ He bowed, ‘I go by Forte. It’s a pleasure.’

‘I am Vilivian. It is likewise a pleasure to meet you, Wordsmith.’

‘“Wordsmith?”’ he said, amazed.

‘Is something wrong?’

‘On the contrary, I’m intrigued! But,’ he clapped his hands. Vilivian flinched. ‘Why don’t we go down the docks and have this whole misunderstanding sorted out, shall we?’

***

Vilivian followed the self-proclaimed author down the docks whilst carrying the unconscious worker on her shoulder.

In black and red uniform, a singular the guard was overseeing the movement of the cargo, partially stolen. When they arrived, Vilivian was met with cold stares from the workers, even though the Forte explained that she wasn’t involved with it at all.

And all should’ve ended then, but it didn’t as Forte wouldn’t stop talking.

She had never seen talk so much about anything. Even the oni boy – a real culprit – didn’t move his lips nearly as much, probably because Forte was talking nonsense throughout most of his speech.

And yet, somehow, two of the workers teared up, the now conscious unconscious man verbally apologized to her and the guard took off his hat out of solemn respect. It even got to a point where Vilivian was offered a job of moving the cargo. Given that the man she threw at the wall had suffered a concussion and she felt a little bad about this whole ordeal, she accepted the offer and without any struggle helped to move out the cargo for the day.

She was even paid a bag of coins for her effort. And it was a fat one, unlike the ones the nobles who challenged her tried to buy their lives with. Vilivian finally had a chance to repay for the generosity the Bartender of the Fox Den showed her as she sponsored not only meals, but also a room in her tavern.

By the time the sun set completely, Vilivian was walking back to the tavern, holding the pouch in her hand, thinking about today’s encounters, the last of which was yet to end.

Though she could only hear her own boots’ footsteps, Forte the Writer was following closely behind her with a smile on his face and hands behind his back. At first, she thought they were going in the same direction, but the more turns they took the more suspicious she became.

‘What do you want, Wordsmith?’ she asked as they walked finally. Forte laughed, whether at the nickname or her question she couldn’t tell.

‘Why, it’d be unsightly of me to let a lady wander around alone late at night, wouldn’t it?’

‘You approached me with your hands up in the air. Weren’t you afraid?’

‘Afraid? Hardly. Cautious? Most certainly. Indentation in that wall is sure to spawn several urban legends in the future. Some might even start praying to it.’

She stopped in the middle of an empty alley lit by the street lights and turned around. She stared into his heterochronic eyes. His grin remained unwavering.

‘Answer my question.’

‘Is it really that hard to believe that I simply wanted to appear gentlemanly to the good people of Crossroads?’

‘Kindness conceals blades no worse than the shadow of a cloak.’

‘Train of thought heading straight on towards extinction! Surely you realize that my efforts here are a result of your charm and beauty?’

‘I faced men singing exaggerated praises only for me to get distracted with their rabble before they tried to slide a dagger into my back. You are good at what you do, Wordsmith, yet, when I see your lips move all I hear is rubbish.’

‘You needn’t be so reserved, Miss Vilivian. You shan’t find a dagger in my hands lest you consider a glass of wine at the dinner table a suitable tool of carnage. I won’t kill you.’

‘Will you try?’

Forte chuckled.

‘I swear on my honour as an author, Miss Vilivian!’

‘The issue I take with that, Wordsmith, is I’ve had dozens of individuals swear on their supposedly renowned reverence and most, save one, showed nothing but a cowardice oft accompanied by a glint of silver. What say you to that?’

He shrugged.

‘That they’re amateurs? I take pride in preparation, Miss Vilivian. Unlike them, I am fully aware that the person I’m dealing with is capable of tearing the limbs of a man as if they were petals of a flower.’

‘You’re done with the gallantry, then?’

‘I shan’t ever. But I won’t continue to insult your intelligence with unnecessary flattery. You’re clearly a woman who knows her own worth.’

‘And what am I worth to you? Why, pray tell, despite having no intentions in harming me, have you designed to assist me against your better judgement?’

She realized she must’ve slighted him in some way as he began scowling and smiling at the same time.

‘Your beastly short-sightedness is apparent, Miss Vilivian.’ His courtesy coated in venom. ‘While to you it might’ve appeared as if I pulled you out of the worst mistake of your life, to those people I was a saviour who rescued them from a wild animal about to break loose from its chain to gut them. And now they owe me their lives.’

‘You planned this whole ordeal?’

‘I’m good, Miss Vilivian, but not that good. It was by absolute chance that we met then and there. And as for why I’m following you, Miss Vilivian, it is to see whether you are the person of integrity you make out yourself to be with your eloquent disposition or whether you’re nothing, but an animal in dire need of caging.’

‘You think I owe you.’

‘You do owe me, Miss Vilivian. How many would you be able to cut through before you even started to calm down? How many before the God Eater brought down the hammer?’

‘And by the boats? When you had me help these workers?’

‘I simply wanted to warm you up to myself. I intended to subtly indicate your obligation towards me as we talked by the dinner, but I recognize now that you’re no fool. Consider the sack of coins as your introduction to civilization. I, however, must know whether or not you have enough human decency to pay off your tally.’

It hurt her pride to be called beastly by that individual. The man certainly carried his supposed superiority on his sleeve and didn’t hide the fact that he was out for himself more than for anyone else. Still, he was right. Her anxiety and her inexperience in dealing with people would have resulted in a massacre had he not arrived to talk her out of it.

‘I’ve my pride, Wordsmith. I’ll repay that debt, so long as your request is reasonable. I give you my word.’

Forte laughed mischievously.

‘Ah. But that is the word of a monster, isn’t it?’ That one statement hurt the most. ‘No matter as for now it will suffice. Should anything arise, Miss Vilivian, I’ll be certain to find you. We’ll meet in due time I’m confident. Good night.’

She watched as the self-proclaimed author disappeared in the darkness of the alley. With his words still resounding in her head she turned heel and left for the Fox Den.

***

With the witching hour slowly approaching the tavern was ripping apart in chaos as the patrons of the establishment were nearing dangerous levels of intoxication. Still, the waiters and waitresses have managed to wrangle them by skilfully subduing the rowdier customers whilst still handling the drinks.

Vilivian pushed through to the bar where the Fox Den’s oni owner and barkeeper – Saki - filled the glass pints with beer straight from the tap and handed them over to waiters.

‘You’re returned rather late this evening,’ Saki spoke to her once Vilivian sat down on the barstool. ‘Took your time taking in the sights?’ she signalled something to one of the waiters.

‘A series of strange happenstance had me occupied for the latter part of the day.’

‘Oh? Do tell.’

As Vilivian was about to explain she noticed someone familiar sitting on a stool next to her. Wearing the same familiar white shirt with the same unkempt black hair and red skin, an oni boy was chewing on some manner of red fruit or vegetable.

‘It’s you.’ She said in mild shock.

He turned to her with his mouth full. He frowned in thought as he swallowed and then he grinned widely, baring his fangs.

‘Miss Viliv! What a coincidence to meet you here! How do you do?’ said Volley with pieces of food on the sides of his mouth.

‘You’ve met my nephew, I take it?’ said Saki as she put a plate of food in front of Vilivian.

‘That child is your kin?’ Vilivian looked in disbelief.

She then proceeded to inform them about the events beginning from meeting Volley to her helping out the dock workers with their cargo. Throughout her retelling she noticed Saki’s glare towards her nephew turn sterner and colder.

As she finished, Volley laughed and shrugged.

‘Oh, wow.’ He said. ‘Good thing all’s well that ends well, eh? YEOWCH!’

He was smacked with a boot Saki took off.

‘You thieving little tyke!’ she scolded him.

‘I left receipts!

‘With MY name on them!’

‘Come on! It’s not like you ever spend money on anything!’

‘I pay taxes!’

‘Do you, though? Ack!’ She struck his head again.

‘I’m sorry for him, Vilivian.’ Saki sighed and put her shoe back on. ‘He got you in the worst kind of trouble possible and was gotten out of it by the worst kind of person too I imagine.’

‘The aftermath was less than ideal, but I hold no grudge. I was a victim of a circumstance more than your nephew’s folly.’

‘Yeah, Auntie, I meant no harm to her.’ Said Volley and pushed his plate towards Vilivian. ‘Here, Miss Viliv, have some of my watermelon as my plea for forgiveness.’

Vilivian took in hand the red “watery melon” and put a bite-sized piece in her mouth.

The sweet and juicy piece exploded in her mouth.

‘. . . It’s been many years since I had such an exemplary vegetable.’ She stated.

Volley frowned, a little confused, but continued to smile nonetheless.

‘It’s a fruit.’

‘Still, Vilivian, I thought you could tell when someone’s related through your sensing abilities?’ Saki asked.

‘I do,’ Vilivian admitted. ‘But I have toned it down ever since I arrived here. Sensing too many creatures at once makes this ability a hindrance to my mind.’

‘I didn’t know you could just “tone down”.’

‘Neither did I. I suppose I adapted to my environment. With so many beasts and monsters around, the mating seasons in the dungeon were . . . unbearable.’

Volley opened his mouth in amazement and his eyes started to shine with excitement.

‘Did you say “dungeon?” he asked.

‘Yes.’ She answered, slightly taken aback.

‘What kind?!’

Vilivian wasn’t sure on how to answer that question.

‘The underground and magical kind?’ she guessed. ‘It was built and used by my clan back when we still considered it a home.’ She tried to recall its layout back when she still used to frequent the higher floors. ‘It has several levels and they’re mostly occupied by the beasts and monsters.’

‘Is there any treasure?!’

‘Just one.’ She said dryly. ‘You’ve the spirit of an adventurer, don’t you, Child?’

‘Dungeons, monsters, treasures, good fights and survival! I live for those things. This place is the first one in a while where I stayed for so long since leaving home.’

‘Why did you leave? I find it curious to see a child like you on the road unattended.’

He pouted.

‘I’m sixteen.’

Vilivian looked at Saki askingly.

‘Is that a lot for an oni?’

Saki smirked as she cleaned the glasses.

‘Even humans would consider him a pretentious brat. But he’s always been an odd one out even amongst the oni. Much wilder than other children. Much stronger too, which is why I recommended him for the tournament.’

Vilivian glared shocked at the oni teenager.

‘You’re a contestant, too?’

‘Wow, and you?!’ he exclaimed excitedly. ‘That’s great! Oh, I can’t wait to see you fight! Hey, is that sword your weapon? It looks so imposing!’

He pointed at the sword Vilivian carried. The sheath didn’t look much like anything with the cloth wrapped around it.

‘It’s not mine.’

‘Does it have a name?!’ he seemed to ignore her.

‘It’s a keepsake.’ She fruitlessly tried to explain.

He frowned.

‘“Keepsake.” That doesn’t fit at all! Imposing swords should have cool names like Shadowbringer or Chaos Shard or Excalibur!’

Vilivian froze up.

‘Truly.’ She said weakly.

‘Ignore him, Vilivian. He’s the type to name a hairbrush. That being said, I need to get a new one. I seem to have misplaced mine . . .’

‘Wow, Auntie.’ Said Volley. ‘That’s crazy.’

She looked at him. He looked at her. She was glaring coldly. He was grinning.

Vilivian barely dodged the incoming swing aimed at Volley’s side of the head, but he managed to duck below it.

‘Ha! Missed m—’

He didn’t dodge the returning strike.

Saki massaged the back of her fist as Volley lay knocked out on the floor.

‘Still . . .’ Vilivian said, watching the knocked out boy. He started snoring. ‘I am rather surprised to see how different the two of you are.’

‘It’s not like I was the one to raise him. He could use a little more tough love during his upbringing, but I suppose he wouldn’t grow to be such an empathetic young man as he is.’

‘He has a certain charm, that’s for certain. I feel like I lower my guard when I’m around him.’

‘That’s the effect he has on people. Someone so good-natured and innocently naïve makes it unbelievably easy for people to endear themselves to him. You think Chifu would let just anyone see her swimming in her own sick? He’s just as good at making friends just as Wendy is at turning any ordinary tea party into an alchemical experiment.’

‘I find it curious that both of you carry the same passion for havoc, but the way each of you wield it is vastly different.’

‘How so?’

‘You, Bartender, are like a river of magma. Calm and mesmerizing, but you’ll relentlessly destroy anything that’s in your path.’

‘Poetic.’

‘Thank you. I’ve been reading a lot lately.’

‘And my nephew?’

‘He’s like . . . What did you call that orange-haired vixen with a metal stick the other day?’

‘Unhinged?’

‘No, no. You used a metaphor.’

‘Ah. “Powder keg.”’

‘Indeed. He’s brimming with energy and yearning for conflict to an extent that any manner of provocation, no matter how miniscule, is enough to set him off exploding.’

‘He’s got a tendency of getting into trouble uninvited.’

‘I can’t help but feel jealous. Merely sixteen, but he’s been striding the world for a few years by now.’

‘I get that blues sometimes, too. I start reminiscing and remind myself that I wasn’t always a hag and had a childhood.’

Vilivian scowled. She tried reaching back into her memory, to the point her head started hurting. She could recall her combat training, her sisters and the lessons her Mother taught her, but other than that . . .

‘I can’t recall much from my childhood, sadly.’

‘It’s been over a thousand years for you, right? It’s a given you’d forget some things.’

Vilivian spent the rest of the evening in wistfulness. She never really thought much about her past, especially so far-reaching one. She still thought she ought to remember some events from that time, but she couldn’t really come up with anything of substance. There was only darkness and fighting, much like throughout most of the rest of her life.

After finishing the meal Saki prepared for her, Vilivian was proud to finally pay for her stay. Though the Fox Den’s bartender insisted on those meals being on the house as a way to repay for Volley’s mischief.

Saki eventually gave in and took some of the Vilivian’s money after which the Matriarch retreated to her room to sleep.

***

Vilivian rarely slept before coming to Crossroads. As her life was to be in constant challenge, she developed a meditating technique that allowed her to stay on guard whilst receiving the much-needed rest.

It wasn’t until she arrived at Crossroads that she for the first time in her life slept in a bed on a soft mattress underneath a clean sheet. It has been so very long since she slept so soundly that the tiniest sounds didn’t manage to wake her up.

She, however, had to suffer through her dreams.

And tonight she had trouble falling asleep. Her conversation with Forte the Wordsmith was still haunting her thoughts. Her uncertainty in regards to her own humanity stressed her out.

She struggled in her sleep; sounds of water drops dripping and dripping inside her head were either very distant or oddly close and its direction swayed and Vilivian swayed with it, trying to struggle out of darkness while the volume of the noises steadily increased.

She’d finally make out an image and see herself in a dark room. She was holding a book. One that showed an artwork she recognized as the very same she saw painted on the mural in the city. The picture then shifted into an unrecognizable mess of colours as her heart sunk. Her vision faltered and turned to intangible darkness that started spinning and she felt the ground beneath her fail and disappear. She clutched onto the book hanging in the space, terrified of letting, of slipping and falling down. The sounds came into the crescendo when they suddenly turned into a sound of knocking on a door and Vilivian came awake in bewilderment.

Her head was hurting, her limbs stiff and she tasted blood in her mouth. She had lost her sense of time, but the light coming through the window drapes signified the start of the next morning which meant she slept some hours.

She briefly tried to remember her dream, but her head was in too much pain to focus properly.

Somebody knocked on the door.

‘Vilivian?’ Saki's voice sounded from outside. ‘Are you decent yet?’

She sat on the side of her bed and started picking up her clothes. When she was attired, Saki entered and helped her do her hair as well point out which articles Vilivian put on wrongly.

With her hair tied into a braid they exited her room and made their way down to the tavern. In the mornings, only a few patrons populated the Fox Den. Once down in the tavern, they were welcomed by a cheerful screech of the town’s favourite drunkard.

‘Ayy, Vilivian! How are you doing, Best Friend?’ Chifu the self-proclaimed “friendly neighbourhood kitsune” raised her mug at the sight of Vilivian.

‘Our relationship is not that of friends, Trickster,’ said Vilivian as she sat down on a bar stool next to Chifu’s. ‘I must say, not seeing you yesterday evening here at the bar had my mind—’

‘Worried?’ Chifu teased.

‘Otherwise occupied.’

‘Curious what I was doing, aren’t you?’

‘I wouldn’t want people to make wrong assumptions about me.’

‘That you’re my friend?’

‘That I care.’

‘I heard that you got into a little trouble yesterday.’

‘Yes. I apologize about your wall.’ Vilivian automatically assumed that the Trickster knew everything about everything.

‘Don’t worry. At least the drunkards have got something to admire while they piss at it.’

‘Viliv wouldn’t be in this mess in the first place if you weren’t black out drunk yesterday and didn’t agree to Volley’s whim, y’know?’ Saki said as she placed scrambled eggs and sausage in front of Vilivian and took Chifu’s mug to refill it.

‘Are you really going to chastise me for filling your coffers?’

‘When it comes to discipline of my nephew? Yes. He’s a self-proclaimed “pilgrim,” travelling ‘round the world and he’s got a tendency for getting into trouble and beating his way out of it. That’s why I wanted him to come here; to learn that there’s always someone stronger than him, because otherwise, at one point, if he doesn’t come to conclusion that not everything will go his way, he’s going to get himself into a fight he won’t win and any last-minute epiphanies aren’t going to be of any help.’

‘Saki, please. It’s ten in the bloody morning. Volley’s a child. Let him be and eventually he’ll learn responsibility on his own.’

‘I don’t want him to take advice from a woman who ignores most of her work only to go drinking. How about some water?’

‘I’ll start drinking water when marine life starts taking bathroom breaks, but thanks nonetheless.’

***

Feeling better, as she ate the meal prepared by Fox Den’s owner, Vilivian thought back to her dream. She remembered the book picturing the very same village that Volley painted on the mural in the city. It was hard to tell the accuracy of the vision. Ever since she started sleeping properly in the Crossroads she had a hard time differentiating between dreams and memories resurfacing from her long life-span.

Vilivian finished her meal and paid for it, still much to Saki’s chagrin, but at least this time she didn’t complain as she was busy arguing with Chifu about the intricacies of parenthood.

Vilivian realized that she lacked proper skills and knowledge about the subject at hand and made herself scarce.

With the keepsake sword tied behind her back as usual, she intended to go into plains, find a nice meadow and meditate until late afternoon. This time, however, nearly as soon as she crossed the door out of tavern Volley appeared in her immediate vision, wearing his signature fang-baring smile.

The oni boy saluted with his two fingers and other arm on his hip and clicked his heels.

‘Tally-ho and pip-pip, Miss Viliv!’ Volley greeted her. At least that’s what she thought he did. Confused, made her best guess.

‘Good morning?’

‘Couldn’t be finer, could it?’ he looked up at the clear sky.

‘I wouldn’t know.’

‘Right. The thing is, Miss Vilivian.’ He took a deep breath. He then bowed his head. ‘I’m really sorry!’

Vilivian blinked.

‘Sorry?’

‘Yeah, that’s what I’m saying, Miss Viliv.’ He tried to look into Vilivian’s eyes, but turned away embarrassed. ‘Thing is, I completely brushed off the trouble I caused you yesterday, y’know. I never really think about that kind of stuff because the consequences usually just catch up to me and me only, but t’was the first time something happened to someone else, and well, I can’t help but feel guilty about it, y’know? I pretended that it didn’t bother me, but I honestly just didn’t want to admit my mistake and, well . . .’ Volley kicked the ground. He looked up at her again and bowed his head. ‘I am really sorry.’

Vilivian stood impressed. Both Bartender and the Trickster acted as if Volley was an irresponsible child, but he showed a great level of responsibility for his actions. The most mature humans she met had trouble as much as to admit defeat; something they claimed to be their pride and while she could understand that sentiment there’s only so much one can do with only two limbs.

‘Raise your head, Child. Sole fact you recognize your mistake speaks volumes.’

‘So . . .’ he said as he slowly raised his head. ‘You’re not holding a grudge?’

‘No.’

Volley glared.

‘Oh, wow. Yeah, OK. That’s good.’ He then burst out laughing. ‘Oh, that’s good! Very good, Miss Viliv, I was terrified, you know?’

‘Were you?’

‘See, Auntie told me a little about you. You spent many years alone and that you weren’t used to the outside world and stuff, so I kind of assumed you’d be a stick in the mud since you also didn’t shake my hand back then . . .’

‘It’s not a custom I’m used to.’

‘Eh, that’s fine, let bygones be bygones, y’know? I’m not mad. But there is one thing I’d like to ask you.’

‘That being?’

‘So, I heard from Auntie that you fought a lot of people, right? Whilst protecting that treasure in your dungeon?’

Vilivian grew sceptical.

‘I have.’

‘Truth being, Miss Viliv, I need advice! The tournament’s going to have strong people and I need some kind of weapon. Something cool to beat people with, like your sword!’

‘As I said it’s not my—’

‘And you probably saw a lot of weapons considering your experience, so would you please come with me to the shop and help me pick one out? Please?’

‘Well . . .’

‘Please? Pretty please? Pretty please with a cherry on top?’

Vilivian wouldn’t answer a mere beggary so easily. Usually. But something in Volley’s pleads called out to her.

‘I don’t mind,’ she said finally. ‘But most of the weapons I know of were used on me rather than by me.’

‘Yesss!’ Volley exclaimed happily. ‘Thanks, Miss Viliv! Come, follow me, we have to go to the Business District.’

‘Wait, do you have means of procuring equipment or are you going to misuse your aunt’s wealth again?’

‘Yes and no? She gave me some allowance to spend. There’s enough for something to slice and dice the peeps with.’ He pulled out a small purse from his pocket. ‘Now, come on! I’ll show you some cool stuff on the way there!’

He grabbed her hand and started pulling her towards the district. She was certainly startled, but didn’t resist. Instead, an old feeling resurfaced from within.

That of a sisterly affection.

***

Vilivian couldn’t help but hold onto the sword. The Business District was bursting with people, much worse than in the streets the evening prior. She’d usually be out in the plains at this time, but as she stuck around with Volley she had no choice.

Still, she followed him and realized again just how much more endearing and good-natured the oni boy is.

‘You’ve eaten breakfast already, haven’t you? I know Auntie made you some, I ate the same thing. After we’re done shopping let’s go to that waffle place I was telling you about yesterday. They were SO worth forging Auntie’s signature and now that I can pay for it we can get some completely fairly and without hassle. Oh, and let’s go check out the mural, too. I’m actually curious about the dent you made, believe it or not. I just hope it won’t be too uncomfortable for you, you know? We can stay away if you’d like, no pressure, wouldn’t want to jinx the day, eh? Oh, I’ve been meaning to ask; do you fish? Because I’d like— Oh, excuse me.’ Volley bumped into an elderly man and spilled his groceries. He quickly picked up the bag and whatever fell out of it and handed it over. ‘Apologies, my good sir. Here. Be safe! Right. What was I talking about?’

‘Fishing.’

‘Right! Thanks. So, I’ve been by the riverside lately and I saw a fish. This big! And I thought to myself . . .’

It was a joy to listen to Volley talk so enthusiastically about every little thing. The energy this Child emanated almost made Vilivian want to start skipping in rhythm to his words. She never had such impulses, but perhaps it was a given. Here, she could be carefree and with Volley around she didn’t worry about her beastly instinct arising.

When was the last time she thought of her siblings? When she felt a sting in her blood that signified that her last sibling passed away? She certainly didn’t think of them during her lonely stay in the dungeon. For the most part she forgot that she even had siblings . . .

Her head suddenly started hurting. It was the same pain she felt when she awakened this morning after having that dream. She resolved herself to ask Volley about his home village later, as she suspected some manner of connection.

‘Here we are, Miss Viliv!’

Volley pointed at the sign above the stone workshop. Smoke emerged from a chimney at the top of the building and from the inside one could hear the sound of metal being struck. The door was wide open for anyone to enter.

She followed him inside and saw the blacksmith at work, hammering a piece of metal on the anvil; blue-haired and clad in black; the smith had his whole right arm covered in metal and his legs resembled a pair of blades. He was certainly young, though he appeared much older, when comparing his height to Volley’s.

Smithy looked up with his one uncovered eye and let out an exasperated sigh at the sight of Volley.

‘What do you want again, kid?’ he asked.

‘Kid?!’ Volley repeated, indignant. ‘We’re just a year apart, Nephy!’

‘It’s Nephro, if you must. Leave. I have work to do and I don’t accept payment in forged IOUs for my goods.’

‘How about I pull out that stick that’s stuck up your ass? It’s a win-win; I get something to bludgeon people with and you stop being an insufferable prat. And besides, I’ve got my own dosh this time.’ He pulled out the small purse and shook it. Coins sounded from the inside.

Nephro’s face expressed nothing but doubt. He looked at Vilivian.

‘Should I call the guards?’

‘As far as I know it’s his to spend.’ Said Vilivian. ‘Good to meet you, Meister.’

‘Likewise, Miss,’ Blacksmith said, slightly taken aback, but he didn’t let that expression linger. He turned to Volley. ‘Fine. What do you want? That baseball bat from yesterday is up for grabs if you’re still interested.’

‘Now, now. Since I’ve brought an expert here,’ he pointed at Vilivian with his smile. Nephro raised an eyebrow. ‘I want to get an opinion. What do you think, Miss Viliv?’

She hesitated.

‘The spear had always caused me a lot of trouble.’ Claimed Vilivian the Expert.

‘Spear it is! Blacksmith! Where to?’

Nephro pointed towards a neat row of spears and spear-like weapons. Volley approached it and picked one.

The result was comical to say the least. Volley was much too short to use that spear in the most efficient way.

‘I’m not feeling it, boss.’

‘You look like a monkey with bamboo.’ Nephro said without missing a beat.

‘Wanna go, blueberry-boy?!’ Volley pointed the spear at the smug blacksmith.

‘I think,’ Vilivian interjected. ‘That you should use something that’s best for close combat. Like a mace.’

‘I’ve got plenty of those.’ Said Nephro and pointed at another pile. ‘Take your pick.’

Volley put away the spear back to its place and reached for one of the maces.

He took a few swings with one hand. ‘Now that feels good, I’ll admit.’

‘Great.’ Nephro said. ‘That’ll be—’

‘Oh, right. Miss Viliv! Since we’re here, why don’t you let Nephy check up on your sword?’ Volley smiled. ‘I’d like to test this thing up against you and I wouldn’t want to do some otherwise mitigatable damage.’

‘No.’ Vilivian clutched the sword. ‘That won’t be necessary.’

‘I have to agree with Volley, as a blacksmith.’ Said Nephro. ‘You’re a contestant and the tournament’s right around the corner. You wouldn’t want it to falter at the most important moment.’

‘I. Said. No.’ she growled.

Silence befell the workshop. Volley and Nephro stared in shock at Vilivian’s angry grimace.

Her scowl was finally interrupted by the loud crack of coal in the furnace. She let go of her blade and looked down, ashamed of her outburst.

‘That sword doesn’t belong to me,’ she explained. ‘It’s a keepsake that my Friend entrusted to me. And until I can give it back to him I won’t let anyone touch it.’

‘I understand,’ said Nephro apologetically.

‘Wait, Miss Viliv. Don’t you use any weapon at all then?’

‘I used to. But I had no reliable way to maintain it so unarmed combat remained my only way of dealing with my adversaries.’

‘Then why don’t you get a weapon for yourself, too, Miss Viliv?’ Volley smiled earnestly. ‘I think a cool sword would be a great fit for you! Like a sabre, or a rapier, or . . .’

‘No. I’m far too experienced in unarmed combat to make a switch like that so suddenly. You shouldn’t look at a weapon as merely a tool for combat, but as an extension of your skill and abilities.’

Volley stared with his mouth open before he suddenly threw the mace back onto the pile.

‘That’s so COOL!’ he exclaimed. ‘You’re right, Miss Viliv. I don’t need no weapons! I’ve been fighting, kicking and punching and biting my whole life. There’s no reason to change it up now!’

‘I’m . . . glad?’

‘Come on, Miss Viliv. Let’s go to that waffle place.’

Volley practically ran out of the workshop, leaving both the Meister and Vilivian confused.

‘You know,’ said Nephro after a while. ‘I’m selling some knuckle dusters if you’d like. Good for punching. Some real proper brass and silver.’

‘No, thank you. I am allergic to brass.’

***

Vilivian caught up to Volley and then he did as he said they would.

Firstly, he led her to the waffle house he mentioned earlier. A neat, not too large parlour that served food through a window. They were delighted by the delicious taste of soft cake and whipped cream. At a certain point she confessed that she never had any dessert before in her life and that most of her meals consisted of raw meat.

‘Whaaaaaat?! That’s crazy, Miss Viliv! Listen, we gotta re-educate you, because food is one of the best parts of life! Let’s go, there’s this shed by the docks where some old guy is selling meat-filled buns to kill for, believe it!’

And so, they went towards the docks. They found the restaurant owned by a cute elderly couple. Each of them got a hefty serving of strangely named foods like pasztecik, gołąbki and barszcz.

After resting a while, Volley took a few meat buns to go and headed towards the riverbank.

There, Volley presented to her how to make a fishing rod.

‘You need a good base, so take for example this cool stick I found here. It has to be sturdy and long, but not too long so that it would break under the weight of the fish. Then, you attach a string. Make the knot nice and tight and we still have to attach this smaller string here to the end of the other string. Watch . . . And there. Now, the hook. Having a nice, specialized hook would be fine and dandy, but sometimes all life gives you are lemons so I gotta make do with this very small rock here. So long as the bait hangs on to it anything works. Now, see here . . . Done. Alright, give me one of those meat buns.’

He tied the meat bun to the makeshift hook.

‘There’s this fish in this river, see. A fat piece of work. I saw it when I first arrived here and have been hunting for it ever since, with no luck. Bastard’s smart enough to not get caught by any ordinary means, but today will be different.’

‘You’re strangely determined for this.’

‘Of course, I am! Nothing tastes better than a meal you’ve caught and gutted on your own!’

‘I agree with that. Still, I saw how much you ate. Are you hungry, still?’

‘Are you not?’

‘I didn’t say that.’

Volley laughed out loud as he handed the fishing rod to Vilivian.

‘Alright, Miss Viliv, here’s the plan.’

She panicked.

‘You want me to hold this?’

‘Duh? It takes two to catch this big of a game. Don’t worry, all you have to do is to pull upwards when the big shadow appears underneath the line. I’ll even shout when.’ He took off his shirt and went a few meters away from the river. ‘OK, Miss Viliv! Throw the bun into water.’

With a quiet splash the bun landed in the water and fully submerged itself. Few quiet seconds passed.

‘Gently, Miss Viliv. We are hunters and that fish is the prey. We must exercise a great deal of patience if we want to— NOW, MISS VILIV, THERE’S THE FISH BASTARD!!’

Shadow appeared where the string was submerged and Vilivian immediately pulled upwards. The bun went flying into the air and following it graciously was a very large catfish.

As Vilivian stood flabbergasted by the sheer majesty of such an animal, Volley took a running start and at the very edge of the bank jumped into the air.

With two legs he kicked the Fish Bastard out of the air, knocking it out in one hit and sending it to the land on the opposite side of the river while Volley himself plummeted down into the waters below.

‘Child?!’ Vilivian shouted in distress.

After a few seconds, Volley emerged from the water and a huge weight lifted off Vilivian’s shoulders. She sighed as the boy laughed wholeheartedly.

‘Wow, Miss Viliv! You will not believe . . . How strong . . . This current is . . .!’ he laughed and swam to the other side where the catfish landed.

Vilivian smiled. She experienced a completely new feeling, seeing Volley raise the fish triumphantly signifying his success. She felt pride in someone else.

And all he did was catch some fish.

***

With the fish in tow they went towards the forest. On the way there they gathered some wood and rocks and made a fireplace surrounded with stones to roast the fish on.

‘Bastard,’ Volley cursed. ‘My matches are completely wet.’

‘Is that bad?’

‘I’ve got no means to start a fire now, Miss Viliv. Guess I’ll have to do this the old-fashioned way.’ He reached for a few sticks and a rock.

‘Allow me.’

Vilivian extended her arm and pointed her palm at the prepared firewood.

‘Enkindle.’ She chanted, her voice echoing. Veins on her arm flashed with blue light and the wood suddenly burst into flames.

Volley’s eyes and mouth opened wide in amazement.

‘THAT’S SO COOOOOL!! Was that magic?!’

‘Yes. It’s not my area of expertise, but I can command it reliably enough.’

They roasted the fish and ate it, all the while Volley continued to question Vilivian about her magical abilities. Queries, to most of which Vilivian couldn’t find appropriate answers.

Once done with the fish they rested a while and decided to return to the town.

They went to the last point of their schedule; the mural where Volley painted his artwork on and where Vilivian got into a fight.

There were more people than yesterday, but no one seemed to pay any attention to the village showcased on the wall. The indentation remained and Volley investigated it with fascination.

‘Blimey, Miss Viliv, that’s a big hole. I’ve got to say that seeing my work like this? Pretty damn impactful. Damn, I’m good, aren’t I, Miss Viliv? Miss Viliv?’

Vilivian stared intensely at the work. The painting was exactly the same as in her dream, but it didn’t cause any reflections or remembrance to her. She touched it, to the same lack of effect.

‘I’ve seen a picture such as this before. In a book I read . . . a really long time ago.’

‘I remember. Not that surprising.’ Volley leaned on the mural. ‘There’s been plenty of people going in and out of the village. Adventurers, scholars, merchants. Someone’s been bound to make a painting of it.’

Vilivian nodded.

‘What’s it like?’ she asked.

‘The village? It’s great. Lovely, really. Kind of suffocating, though.’

‘I see . . .’

‘Ah, but I don’t mean it in a bad way! It’s just . . .’ Volley scratched his head. ‘It wasn’t for me, you know? I love my home, really. Ma’ and Pa’s there, and all the guys and gals, and I loved the plains out there as well as fishing in the river, but . . . Everything was the same. Same people, same fish, same food and also school . . .’ he grimaced. ‘The world is just way too beautiful to not enjoy it, you know?’

She didn’t answer.

‘It has been like that for you too, right, Miss Viliv?’

She turned to him.

‘I mean, I know you spent a long time in that dungeon . . . Like, a really long time, like holy moly, I wouldn’t be able to sit a day in the same place . . . Isn’t this . . .’ he pointed at the sea that could be seen from the gate next to the mural. ‘So much worth leaving that place behind?’

Vilivian stood next to him and looked out onto the sea as well.

‘When I was younger,’ she started. ‘I would often fantasize about leaving the confinement of my sanctuary. Things like sea, rivers, forests, towns and cities were nothing but my delusions in the few times I managed to dream. And now that I am free to explore more of the wide world, that desire is certainly much stronger.’ She clutched the keepsake. ‘But I have a promise to keep. And this tournament . . . That wish. It’s the only means through which I can achieve that.’

There was a pause of silence, as they wistfully admired the view.

‘Well, then,’ Volley said finally. ‘How about you come travelling with me?

She looked at him, perplexed.

‘After you’re done with your promise, of course.’ He smiled. ‘I mean, it’s not like you’ll cease to live after you’re done with it, right? The worst part about travelling alone is that there’s nobody to share your experiences and adventures with you. So, if you’re willing, I’d be one to show you what the world has to offer! What do you say?’

Vilivian smiled, but before she could answer, she was struck with a splitting headache. Her ears started ringing and the pain was so intense that her vision faltered for a moment.

‘Miss Viliv?’ Volley panicked.

‘My head hurts . . .’ she massaged her temple.

‘Auntie Saki probably has some medicine at her place, Miss Viliv! Come, let’s go!’

Volley wasted no time pulling her behind him, and she allowed herself to be escorted as the pain didn’t seem to cease anytime soon.

At Fox Den, Saki immediately gave Vilivian some sour-tasting medicine and told her to sleep on it.

Vilivian did as recommended and bid farewell to Volley before going to her room. There, she fell into the bed immediately, taken by sudden exhaustion.

She struggled to fall asleep. The pain wasn’t going away and she felt as if the world was spinning around her.

Eventually, she’d be drawn into spiralling darkness; not into a dream or a nightmare, but rather a conscious glimpse into her past.

***

In the lower levels of the Graal Sanctuary she walked through the empty halls lit by golden candelabras. At the crossroads, she turned right and opened a heavy wooden door.

Inside the room, even rows of bookcases surrounded a long stone table in the middle. There, a lone figure studied a tome by the light of a candle.

‘Can you afford to read those volumes considering your current predicament?’

She asked as she sat down on the opposite side of the table. He raised his head. His hair, curly and short, was of fiery-red colour. The candlelight reflected in his emerald eyes.

‘On the contrary, Sister, I find my studies to be reinforcing my strength required for the challenge ahead.’

‘What strength could you possibly garner from those?’

‘That of knowledge.’

‘And what wisdom have you acquired so far?’

‘That of magic.

‘What ludicrous notion. We are half-human, Brother. We are resistant to magic.’

‘Resistant doesn’t mean immune, Sister. I may not be able to influence your mind, but I may be able to shatter the earth underneath your feet.’

‘It won’t stop me.’

‘It will threaten your footing. Perhaps just enough for my spear to find your heart.’

He grinned and she answered with a smile on her own.

‘There may be truth to your preaching, Brother. Fine then, enlighten me. What arcane advantage have you acquired from this volume?’

‘This one? None to speak of.’

‘You jest?’

‘No. This book is nothing but a recollection of the travels of a certain human. It provides no advantage that could be utilized in combat.

‘Why study it then?’

‘For inspiration, Sister. Unlike you, I have something to look forward to if I leave this place. Much like arcane grimoires and the combat bouts we perform are nourishments for mind and body respectively, inspiration nourishes the soul. I must have a goal to strive for, otherwise, what am I fighting for?’

He turned the book around and pushed it towards her.

‘It describes the world. The locations, geography, the all kinds of people and even food, that is more than just a roasted piece of flesh of whatever meat our sisters managed to hunt. Read it, Sister. Stars only know, you might use some inspiration and perhaps, I’d be one to show you what the World has to offer, someday?’

She took the book in hand. The painted sketch showcased a tall waterfall at midday. She turned the pages and admired the pictures. Manned garrison at noon. A forest during a storm. A village at night.

‘These places may lie in your future, Brother. But to me they are but fantastical delusions. My place is here in the Graal. You, too, Brother, shouldn’t take the privilege of training with me and my sisters for granted.’

‘Alas, you’re the only one who’s willing to spar with me. Only one, in fact, who shows me any sign of affection.’

‘You’re my Brother.’

‘Our sisters don’t consider me such.’

‘They hide their fear of your strength and potential through mockery, but I know what lies within you. You can overcome the challenge, and become our equal.’

‘Even though I’m a male?’

‘A notion overruled by your bloodline. They don’t realize that, but I do. You’re of Lilith’s brood just like we are.’

‘Thank you, Sister.’ He smiled. ‘Mother was right when she said that out of all her daughters there’s the most human in you.’

‘That fragment of my person won’t make me go easy on you.’

‘I wouldn’t slight you by insinuating that. It’d be an honour to face you at your full strength, Vilivian.’

‘Be careful what you wish for, Cassius. You won’t be able to achieve your dreams if you fall to me.’

His laughter echoed in the chamber, startling her.

‘Then, all I have to do is make sure I don’t lose, right?’

***

She wasn’t aware when she woke up from the backdrop of her mind. At some point she realized that she was lying in the darkness of her room.

Once her eyes adjusted she noticed the dim light of the moon and stars shining through drapes, barely illuminating her room.

Her headache was gone, and though she felt sluggish she was strangely energized. After ensuring the safety of her keepsake, she left.

Loud singing, violent cackling and overall debauchery in Fox Den remained a constant of Crossroads’ nightlife. The priest was drinking with the devil, a teapot dealt in the cards for a horseman, a kitsune and a Polish migrant. The masked vagabonds were the quietest, sitting in the corner slowly sipping their drinks.

Vilivian approached the bar where Saki was tirelessly working the tap.

‘How’s your head?’

‘The pain is gone, Bartender. Thank you.’ She noticed the empty bar stool. ‘Is the Trickster away for tonight?’

‘She’s hard at work actually. Or, as hard as she can work, I suppose. Tournament brackets are out tomorrow, so she’s making sure nothing’s confusing.’

‘Turns out the Trickster is not a slouch she makes herself out to be, then?’

‘Just because you see her drunk in the ditch all the time doesn’t mean that’s her only quality.’

‘It’s certainly her least endearing one.’

‘She would take that as a compliment.’

‘She would.’ Vilivian sighed.

‘Aren’t you famished?’ Saki asked. ‘I can cook you something up if you’d like.’

‘No.’ Vilivian turned towards the exit. ‘I’m going to take a walk.’

Vilivian was caressed by the night time breeze upon exiting the tavern and let her legs naturally gravitate towards the plains.

She couldn’t stop thinking about her . . . vision? It was certainly not a nightmare, as it was too real to be a simple dream. Perhaps her own mind, influenced by her magic, began to uncover memories buried deep inside her heart. The parallels regarding her past were apparent and she feared the next time she’d fall asleep. She was afraid she’d be reminded of the savagery she had committed in the flashes of beastly fury. What she did as a Matriarch was nothing but a tradition, but as a human she committed grave atrocities.

“The most human” of her sisters; Vilivian. She used to take it as an insult, then became indifferent and now she considered herself to be cursed with it. Her human nature is what made all of those feelings and memories resurface after all this time and effort to bury them.

When she left the artificial lights of Crossroads and walked out the gate leading towards the river she could finally see the moon and the stars above this land.

She looked up, unconvinced. The beauty was there, but she couldn’t shake off the feeling that it was merely an illusion created by the Trickster considering her spatial abilities.

Vilivian herself wondered just how much of “human” was she showing. She nearly lost control simply by being falsely accused. She’s agitated any time someone even implies touching the keepsake. She wasn’t cut out for being a human, but she didn’t want to return to the beast either.

She reached the bridge crossing the river when she noticed a character sitting at the riverbank. Volley was sitting with his legs crossed and his tail tied around his waist. He was fishing in the river with a bucket on his side. The source of her woes happily humming in the rhythm of cricketing coming from nearby grass fields.

She approached the Child. He turned to her, very happy to see her.

‘Miss Viliv! Is your headache gone?’

‘Yes, completely.’

‘That’s great to hear! Auntie’s a pro alchemist with grand deal of medical skill so it was satisfaction guaranteed. Would you like to take a seat?’

He moved the empty bucket out of the way and Vilivian sat down.

‘Not biting, I take it?’

‘Oh, they do bite, Miss Viliv, the bucket was for all the meat buns I bought for myself. I’m letting the fish go as I catch them.’

‘What? Why?’

‘Live and let live, Miss Viliv! Besides, we’ve eaten that Fish Bastard earlier, and the smaller ones are barely nourishing. It's good fun!’

‘Is it now? I’m rather surprised you can still have so much energy at this hour.’

‘I’m giddy with anticipation, Miss Viliv!’ he said excitedly. ‘The brackets are out tomorrow and I just can’t wait to see who’s going to be my opponent! There’s so many contestants and they’re all kinds of fun people! There’s a talking rabbit! And a witch! Miss Viliv, I haven’t been this excited in a long time! I see that smirk, Miss Viliv, it’s true! So many strange and strong contestants all in one place just to . . . er . . . I’m sorry.’ He said suddenly.

Vilivian frowned, concerned.

‘What for?’

‘Well,’ he hesitated. ‘You’ve had this headache earlier, right? And I thought that may be because of me. I’ve got quite the mouth, I know, people tell me but sometimes I simply can’t stop talking and so I wouldn’t want to upset and bore you at a time like this and—’

‘Child,’ she interrupted. ‘I am well enough acquainted with you to know that I cannot ever be inconvenienced or bored by conversing with you, even should I wish it.’

He was slightly shocked at her statement, but smiled and turned away, flustered.

‘Thank you, Miss Viliv.’ He then pouted. ‘Though I’d like it if you would cease to call me a child. I have a name, you know?’

‘My people don’t use names lest it’s for our friends or family.’

He caught a fish and then released it.

‘Am I not your friend?’

‘Were I too deem you as such, a certain someone would be very upset.’

Especially since she’d probably learn of it somehow.

‘What about your friend?’ he asked. ‘The one who’s sword you’re guarding? Did you call him by his name?’

‘Sometimes. It was hard to get used to it.’

He caught another fish and then released it.

‘What was he like?’

Vilivian stared into the water, quietly watching the tackle bob at the surface of water. Volley got flustered again.

‘Sorry, was I out of line . . .?’

‘No. I was never asked that question, that’s all.’ She thought a little more. ‘He was one of a kind. When challengers approached me in my sanctuary there was always one trait they shared in common. Their injuries. There always was a bloodied bandage hanging off their body, or a broken rib or missing eye or other limb. But the only blood spilled that he brought was that of the monsters he killed without much effort. That’s how I knew, that he’d be the most powerful adversary I’d face.’ She smiled faintly. ‘While the others brought magic, wrath, armies and trickery, all he brought was his sword and conviction – that he wouldn’t yield until he claimed the treasure.’

He caught yet another fish and then released it.

‘So that’s when you decided to become friends, right? Because of his unique resolve?’

‘We fought. I was defeated.’ She touched the scarf tied around her left arm. ‘He removed my shoulder and I would’ve succumbed to my injury had he not removed some of his blood and fed it to me.’

‘Ew.’

‘I get that a lot.’

‘How does that work . . .?’

‘My species feeds on blood. In our true forms we can use it to regenerate parts of our bodies.’

‘Why, that’s convenie— Wait, true forms? Miss Viliv, you have a second form?!’

‘Yes?’

‘THAT’S SO COOOOL!’ he shouted.

‘. . . Is it?’

‘Hell yes! What’s it like? Do you have wings? A tail? Do you get stronger?’

‘I do have a tail, yes. And I suppose I gain prowess in my abilities.’

‘Can you show me?’

‘I’d rather not.’

‘Right, sorry!’ Volley turned back to fishing. He shook his head happily, baffled. ‘So cool. So, hey, he claimed your treasure, right? What was it?!’

‘It was—’

‘Wait!! Don’t tell me, let me guess . . . A large diamond!’

‘How is that a treasure?’

‘Seriously? To three! Let me to three guesses . . . mmm . . . An imperial regalia! Or a magical sceptre!’

‘Neither. It’s a cup and a fountain. Together capable of granting eternal youth.’

Volley frowned in disappointment. Again, he turned towards the fishes.

‘That’s so boring.’

Vilivian giggled.

‘Isn’t it?’ she said remembering her conversation with the Trickster. When she looked at Volley again, he had his mouth open and eyes fixated on her in amazement. ‘Is something wrong?’ she asked.

‘Oh. Sorry. I didn’t hear you laugh before, that’s all . . .’

‘Well,’ she smiled wryly. ‘I am not the type and I never had a reason to. Even the moments I spent with my Friend have become soured when he left me his sword.’

‘Did he . . . die?’

‘He made such an implication. He made no promises when prompted about his return, but I in my naïve stubbornness promised him that one day I’d return it to him. And I spent the next several centuries hoping that he would be the one to come to me. How pitiful I was.’

‘I think you were exemplary, Miss Viliv.’ She raised her eyebrow. ‘The whole time you spent waiting you never let go of that hope. There was a wish - a goal that you want to achieve, and despite knowing how far-fetched it was you never gave up. And now, against all the odds you’ve got that chance to make your wish come true. Why, you even stayed true to your vow and guarded that treasure even though you were probably tempted the whole time to just up and leave, Miss Viliv, I know I would! That kind of persistence takes guts, Miss Viliv! And I say you’ve got a whole lot of ‘em!’

‘Do I?’ she smiled.

He caught a fish. He released it.

‘Since arriving here I’ve been thinking that if I fail I’ll go back to that sanctuary to continue protecting it.’ Volley looked at her with concern. ‘Though this time not to abide by a thousand years old vow, but to protect the artefact of my own accord, from those undeserving.’

‘Don’t even think like that, Miss Viliv!’ Volley scolded her. ‘You need to approach a fight with confidence! Like I do! Though, usually I get my ass handed over to me in the first few seconds . . . but I bounce back. Sometimes literally!’

He laughed and Vilivian couldn’t help but smile at the boy’s positive attitude.

‘And besides,’ he continued. ‘Even if you fail and go back to that dungeon I’ll make sure to visit you. Hell, I’ll even challenge you for that treasure of yours.’

‘If you lose, you will die.’ She said out of habit and before she could stop herself.

Unbothered, Volley smiled as he wrestled with his fishing rod.

‘Then, all I have to do is make sure I don’t lose, right?’

She stared, at loss for words. She wanted to say something, but all she managed to do was to sadly look down to the waters below.

‘. . . Right.’

***

One man once said to Vilivian, that when gods decide whom to grant their favour they do so by throwing a dice. She never paid much heed to that claim nor did she care much for any deities that would look down upon her, even if they exist, because even the almighty must succumb to the whims of fate.

But Fate wasn’t whimsical nor did it play dice. It played chess. And for her stay in Crossroads, Vilivian thought she was going to stand some chance going against the grain trying to attain the unachievable in a reality completely different from her own. Even though her memories have been pried open by the presence of an extremely familiar oni child, she thought it as nothing but a slight setback.

It was as she stared at the promotional posters for the tournament and saw her match-up in the first round to be against Volley was when she found out that Fate was playing using two queens all along. Fate won.

The Child was bursting with excitement once the news reached him and though Vilivian smiled along with his jubilation she was dreading the fighting day.

Though his appearance was very lacking, his behaviour and attitude reminded her so much of her late brother that she was certain if she could bring herself to hurting him.

Thus, she prepared the best she could. She avoided sleep as in to not allow any more of sour memories to come to light and instead meditated. Tried to see Volley not as her brother, but as an adversary that she’d revel in every opportunity to defeat.

And up until the very last moment, she thought herself to be prepared.

***

‘Welcome back, Crossroads!’

X’s voice exploded in the colosseum amongst the cheers of a few thousand spectators.

Large screens both inside and outside the arena showed the pink-haired host and announcer of the tournament floating on her platform hyping up the viewers to the sound of extremely mediocre rock music.

On the balcony in-between the stands, on a chair as grand as the God Eater’s appearance sat the deity herself, overlooking the tournament with a glass of wine in her right hand.

Next to her, for some reason and on a slightly smaller chair, sat Saki.

‘I understand it’s your nephew fighting and that’s why I allowed you to sit here. But did you have to come in dressed like this?’

Saki was wearing a cap and a white shirt, both depicting Volley’s face.

‘I brought you my best wine. Stop complaining.’

‘I know you’re biased, but couldn’t you spare some love for our lovely Matriarch? I thought you were so much closer than that. You put so much effort in that braid, after all’

Saki turned to her and expressionlessly raised a small flag that had Vilivian’s face on it.

‘Who even sells these?’

X’s voice resounded once more after the music ended.

‘This is your best girl Miss X coming at you from the Cross Colosseum! With the first semi-final decided and we’re now about to see who will take the first spot in the second round of the other side of the bracket! Ladies, gentlemen and variations thereupon! Please, welcome: Volley, the Oni Traveller!’

Wearing a white shirt and cargo pants Volley exited onto the arena amidst the loud ovations. Screens showed as he cheerfully waved back, revelling in the energy of the stadium, most likely the most excited of all the contestants.

When he arrived in the middle the screens focused on X once again.

‘His opponent is nothing to scoff at, however. Give the warmest welcomes to our second contender! Vilivian of Lilith!’

Vilivian entered the arena. Her tag – the scarf around her left arm – was gently fondled by the wind as she made her way to the middle to join Volley. She held her keepsake in her right arm.

They stood in the middle, several feet apart. Vilivian stared as Volley did his last-minute stretches. Carefree. Eager. She could sense in his blood that the call to start the fight will be the call for him to unleash all of his strength and energy against her.

‘You know what’s boring?’ X put an arm on her hip. ‘An empty stage. So, why don’t we put some green up on this canvas!’

She raised her finger up to the sky and, as if with a snap of a finger, the stage began being covered in wild forestry.

Trees and grass started emerging and cracking from the tiled stage. Lush bushes and trees grew thicker and closer towards the outer ends of the arena while area close to the centre remained mostly grass field and only small circle around Volley and Vilivian remained tiled.

While Volley and rest of the arena watched the spectacle in amazement, in her mind everything quieted down. She tried to diverge her focus to the spatial magic, but her mind was already lost and all she could see were the parallels of her regrets.

She remembered how over a thousand years ago, just like Volley now, against her stood her own brother. With the same carefree attitude and boundless energy and skill. She remembered him and what happened afterwards. The flash of red, the monstrous savagery, blood on her hands and the taste of flesh.

She winced and looked at her keepsake. For the first time in her life she prayed. She prayed to her Friend to help her find her resolve and overcome this challenge.

For she couldn’t do it by herself.

***

With his boots tied up and the tag jingling in rhythm to his movements Volley was more than ever prepared to face his first opponent. Past twenty-four hours all he could think of was this fight and he was aching with anticipation. His legs and arms were ready to swing by themselves. He bumped his fist.

‘What are you going to do about this sword, Miss Viliv?’ he asked, barely containing his happiness.

Silently, Vilivian took the sword in both arms and firmly planted it into the stage next to her.

‘Listen, Child,’ she said in her usual stern but this time kind of sad voice. ‘Fight as if you were to fight for your life. Anything less than that will be nothing short of disrespectful.’

Volley grinned ear to ear showing off his fangs. His tail flailed wildly with excitement.

‘You’ve got it, Miss Viliv.’ He bumped his fists.

‘Are the fighters ready?!’ X’s asked as the screens showed the fighters from her perspective.

Vilivian brushed off some of her fire-red hair to the side and clenched her fists.

Volley leaned into a fighting stance and bared his fangs.

‘Alright, Miss Viliv!’ he shouted. ‘Let’s make this a good one!’

‘BEGIN!’

The ground shattered underneath Volley’s step due to his unshackled strength. He jumped legs first into a dropkick and flew towards Vilivian.

Just barely, the Matriarch managed to block by crossing her arms but was staggered backwards, barely maintaining balance as she stepped onto the grass whereas Volley landed beautifully and started running at Vilivian full throttle.

She readjusted herself in time and with her right arm tried to strike an upcoming oni. He knee-slid underneath her swing and tied his leg around her leg and tripped her.

Yelling, she fell face first into grass, spawning laughter from the audience.

‘Come on, Miss Viliv! Show me what you can do!’

Whilst getting up she turned around swiftly. Her right arm was glowing blue.

‘Sink.’ she chanted and swung her open palm at his feet. Volley’s eyes opened wide as he noticed the ground underneath him to wobble and drop. He looked up and saw Vilivian approaching with malicious intent.

He launched his right fist that was caught easily by her. Her grip was painful and Volley winced in pain. Volley tried to grab her side and throw her, but she quickly proceeded to strike the side of his neck with the edge of her other hand.

He felt a powerful torrent of pain course through his body. He still managed to hold on to her, but he momentarily lost all strength in his grip.

She struck again. This time he couldn’t hold out and all his limbs went soft. She grabbed him by his arms properly and started spinning him.

The audience cheered louder with each full spin she performed and concluded at the crescendo when she let go of Volley and threw him head first into a tree.

He regained some air control during his one-second long flight and managed to turn his back towards it. He crashed into a mighty oak with it, shaking the tree and causing some branches and leaves to fall.

His Oni endurance came in clutch as he recovered from that toss. As he got up, he noticed Vilivian raising forward her glowing arm.

‘Break.’ She chanted and pulled her clenched fist to herself. There was a short sound, as if something simmering, behind him.

He ducked, and the small piece of bark that was precisely behind his head exploded into sharp pieces. He covered himself when he noticed that Vilivian approaching was much closer than he first anticipated.

She reached to grab him and he barely ducked under her arm and rolled behind her. He grabbed her braid and Vilivian tried to reach him with her back turned but he stood at the hair’s full length. He pulled and kicked her back, smashing her onto the tree.

She bounced off. Her nose started bleeding with purple blood, but she remained firm on her feet as she tried to regain her composure.

Volley, meanwhile, took a running start and tried to dropkick her yet again. She moved out of the way, but Volley bounced upwards and turned in the air.

As he was falling, he extended his leg as much as he could and Vilivian watched in shock as she was clobbered in the face with his boot.

Audience roared in excitement as both fighters fell to the ground. Volley gathered himself much faster and immediately reached for a nearby branch that fell off the tree.

He took a heavy swing at Vilivian’s head who was just standing up.

The branch broke. The upper half simply fell off while Vilivian barely flinched.

Volley looked at the broken branch. He then looked at Vilivian’s unamused expression.

‘Bollocks.’

‘Quite.’

Audience gasped as he was sent flying across the field by Vilivian’s powerful punch to his chest. He rolled on the ground and when he stopped he lied for a few seconds before he got on all fours. He coughed violently and when he stood up he held onto his chest. Vilivian wiped the blood off her face and she, too, was panting her lungs out. Both fighters decided to catch a breather.

‘Finally, my dear viewers!’ X’s voice resounded throughout the stadium. ‘We get to catch a small respite from the non-stop action ever since the start! Both fighters took on some heavy hits but neither are willing to waver just yet!’

Volley’s thoughts raced through the various plans on how to improve his defences. Though they went about even when it came to their respective assaults, Volley had an inkling that Vilivian wasn’t nearly as spent as he was. There’s only so far, an oni stamina can take you when you take on an opponent of that level.

He realized, from her ground-shaking spell as well as her fire spell she used couple days earlier, that she has, to some extent, to aim where she casts magic. She seemed reliant on it, likely because Volley made himself too evasive to her direct strikes.

There was also something else bothering him in the way she battled. He felt as if she wasn’t fighting to the best of her abilities.

He wanted to hit himself for thinking that. Miss Vilivian had her pride and for her to hold back would be hypocritical, but . . .

Volley cracked his knuckles.

‘Alright, Miss Viliv! Here I come!’

He started running and he did not intend to stop at any moment. He carefully watched Vilivian’s mouth and arms. As he saw her clench her fist at the ground he jumped immediately.

‘Shatter!’ she chanted, and the ground erupted upwards, but wasn’t even close to Volley.

She instead raised her arm and chanted again. ‘Rise!’

From the ground between them emerged a thin earthly wall, but Volley did not care. He smashed his whole body through it much to Vilivian’s surprise and audience’s enjoyment.

‘Ward!’ Vilivian chanted once more as stepped back since Volley was right in their face.

A blue and very thin translucent wall appeared between them, but the oni was already in full swing.

The barrier was much tougher than the earth wall, but Volley shattered right through it; the barrier disappeared into sparkling dust. His fist maintained its velocity and struck her right in the face.

As she was sent flying, again, the audience roared once more, but Volley felt no satisfaction from that strike.

Vilivian gathered herself just as quickly as before, and while the exhaustion started showing, it didn’t seem like the fight would end anytime soon.

‘You know what, Miss Viliv?’ Volley grimaced. ‘You aren’t that strong, at all.’

She looked at him, surprised.

‘I mean, logically speaking, you can’t be, right? Unless you’re holding back, but I don’t believe that to be the case, Miss Vilivian. That would make you a hypocrite, wouldn’t it?’

She scowled.

‘Don’t lecture me, Child.’ Her right arm shined as she waved it.

He just barely escaped from the exploding ground. He got taken by surprise by her chantless magic. But that wasn’t enough.

He evaded her next two spells and delivered a punch to her stomach and as she bent forward he elbowed the side of her head.

Vilivian was once more lying on the ground, and once more, stood up as of nothing had occurred to her. It was so frustrating to see her like this.

‘How about you stop treating me like a child, eh, Miss Viliv?’

‘Fine.’ She said coldly.

Vilivian crossed her arms in front of her. All veins on her body shined with blue light. Arms, neck and the light even pierced through the clothes.

She then spread out her arms to the sides unleashing a powerful shockwave.

‘Destroy.’ She commanded.

Earth trembled underneath them, and after a moment cracks started appearing in the ground around where Vilivian was, expanding further around her.

Volley realized that there was nowhere to dodge and so he started running away, but the tremors caught up. With a yell he started falling down.

A large part of the stadium collapsed underground. Trees and bushes were pulled into the ravine, breaking and crashing into pieces. The foundation of the stage itself crumbled to dust and collapsed into the deep.

X was floating around on her platform transmitting everything that had occurred to the arena. From above it was as if someone cut the circle in half and furthermore, both fighters disappeared from view.

***

Volley was half-covered in dirt when he came to. He opened his eyes to the aftermath of what could only be described as a cataclysm. At the bottom of the large ravine, he stood on a rubble that was probably lying on top of another rubble. He looked up. It was about fifty feet to the topside. He could also make out the keepsake Vilivian stuck into the stage. The piece of ground surrounding the sword was hanging on a prayer. It seemed as if it were to collapse at any second, but somehow remained unmoving.

Volley decided to walk forward along the concrete wall, limping slightly. There was dirt everywhere. In his shoes, in his shirt, in his pockets . . .

The concrete rubble from the foundation the stage was built upon along with collapsed trees and bushes made this giant hole into a labyrinth.

He smiled proudly. Miss Vilivian could really make a mess if she really wanted to. He wondered, however, where is she now? Is she hiding? How did that magic affect her?

He felt a sudden pinch in his leg. He looked down to see that he cut his leg on a sharp tree branch.

‘Man . . .’ he sighed, exasperated. The wound wasn’t big, but it was going to be a pain later if it gets infected.

There was a lot of random stuff lying around. He wouldn’t be surprised if Vilivian were looking to ambush him.

And immediately as he though that, a pair of arms broke through the concrete wall behind him and pulled him against the wall by his neck.

He struggled with her arms and realized that she was going for the bell hanging on his neck. The tag.

Quick, Volley! He thought to himself. Use your head!

And he did.

He rammed the concrete wall with the back of his head. He had to do this twice before the wall collapsed and behind it Vilivian yelled out as the rubble struck her.

He would turn to strike her whilst he had the advantage of surprise but . . .

Volley couldn’t help but look at her in disappointment.

Exhausted and spent, Vilivian stood weakly. Gone vestigial, once a stoic woman did not seem so threatening to him anymore.

‘You don’t intend to fight me seriously, are you?’ Volley asked disappointed.

She didn’t answer.

‘Are you quiet because you know you’ll lie?’

No answer, still.

‘So, I figured. You won’t fight me seriously, and won’t tell me why . . .’ He looked down.

And then smirked

‘Fine.’ He said. ‘If you won’t get serious, I will make you get serious.’

He glanced back and upwards at the keepsake still stuck in the ground. Vilivian eyes followed.

‘Don’t try it.’ She said coldly with a scowl. She took a step forward.

But Volley already had a mischievous grin painted across his face.

‘Oh, yeah? Check this out.’ He reached into his pocket and took out some of the dirt and threw it into Vilivian’s face. The woman coughed and spit as it got into her mouth and eyes while Volley sprinted towards the wall.

Out of nowhere, X floated in on a platform and started commentating on the climb

‘Looks like contestant Volley decided to take on this Olympic climb! Will he manage to reach the figurative gold in the shape of the sword?! Or is Vilivian going to reach him first?!’

It was at least fifty feet tall. Steep and littered with obstacles like large trunks or pipes and other rubble. Volley could see the path even before he started climbing.

It did require a little focus. The trees were wobbling, ready to fall at any time, but he reached almost the half-way point confidently and without much issue. He looked down to see where Vilivian was and she, too, had already started climbing. Despite her exhausted appearance, she was swiftly albeit carefully climbing several feet behind him.

He didn’t really care for the keepsake itself. But if it would make Miss Vilivian take this fight seriously then he wasn’t going to pass up the opportunity.

He was but fifteen feet away from the top. He made a risky jump from a large tree brunch onto a fallen tree. The tree moved and fell down. He barely jumped to a next platform before the tree pummeled down and almost hit Vilivian. She clung to the wall and the falling debris landed below her creating a make-shift bridge between two concrete platforms.

‘Heads up, Miss Viliv!’ Volley shouted cockishly. ‘The sword’s almost within my reach!’ He jumped to another platform and when he looked below he noticed Vilivian stretching her arm out. He braced himself. There was no time to dodge.

‘Shatter!’ Vilivian commanded, but nothing expected happened.

Unbeknownst to most of Crossroads, magic that Vilivian uses, while very flexible it’s also very petty. It’s not merely a tool, but a living entity. It reacts according to emotions, needs to be mastered by its user and can get just as well get exhausted. The spell Vilivian used to destroy the arena took as much toll on her body as it did on the magic within her. It required rest and forcing it to work while in that state was akin to slavery. And Magic was very harsh about that. It refused to obey Vilivian and punished her accordingly.

Vilivian screamed in pain as the veins on her right arm snapped one after another, purple blood gushing out. She lost balance and started falling until she stopped on the tree that Volley knocked out earlier, having her stomach impaled on a broken bough.

Under her weight the tree fell off further down and when it struck the ground with a loud thud, Vilivian rolled off to the side. She lied on her back, motionless as she slowly bled out.

‘Miss Vilivian!’ Volley shouted in terror as the audience gasped.

He started climbing down, his heart hammering and a sense of guilt setting in. At half-point he jumped without any care for his well-being. The landing numbed his legs for a second, but he ran up to Vilivian immediately.

‘Miss Viliv?’ he asked weakly.

He quickly studied her body. Her eyes were closed, her right arm was covered in purple blood. The wound on the side of her stomach was the size of a tennis ball. But despite that, he could tell that she was merely pretending to be unconscious.

‘Looks like we have a winner!’

Volley looked up to see Miss X floating down the hole.

‘What? No, stop!’

The audience cheered loudly. Their laughter further sunk Volley’s heart. He was utterly confused by their reaction. He couldn’t understand why they cheer when a person is in such a condition. He, who had never taken a life and who treated fighting like sport, did not understand that greatest audiences are brought out by public executions.

‘Contestant Vilivian has fallen victim to her own overconfidence and was knocked out by the environment!’

‘She’s still conscious!’ he said, but his voice was muffled. He was no match to the audience in that regard.

Miss X flew out the hole and announced to the audience:

‘And thus, the winner of the third fight is the Contestant Vo—’

‘I TOLD YOU TO STOP!!!’

Volley’s roar silenced the stadium. He reminded everyone that he was an oni.

Miss X looked askingly at Chifu up on the balcony. The God Eater nodded.

‘Miss Vilivian.’ Said Volley. ‘I know you’re awake.’

She opened her eyes, likely out of respect for Volley’s instinct. She stared into the sky over the arena. Volley thought about the words he should speak to her, but before he could settle on something Vilivian spoke up.

‘. . . Why won’t you just take the scarf?’

Her voice was quiet and spent. Volley looked at her tag – the white scarf and thought a while.

‘I don’t want to win by accident, Miss Viliv! Not like . . . this. Why did you hold back?’

There was a pause that for Volley felt like an eternity. Vilivian took a long breath and spoke truthfully.

‘. . . I had a brother once. But the Fate willed us both born into a brood of a Matriarch. I was the eldest and strongest. One to become the Sentinel of Graal and guard our home. And my brothers . . . A nourishment. Means for the daughters to increase in strength as flesh empowers flesh . . .’ she paused and took another breath. ‘My brother was given a choice by our broodmother – to fight for his freedom against the strongest. I . . .’ she hesitated. She was holding back tears. ‘I saw a spear coming towards my heart and in fear I allowed my monstrous instincts to take over. I shattered the spear and his windpipe. I felt him die in my blood as I consumed his. Every bite was like silver, stabbing at my heart. Painful and burning guilt, that I hid away deep in my soul and you . . . You are a walking irony that unearthed it. Fate's constant reminder of my fragile humanity and the nature of a beast. You look nothing alike. You’re shorter. You’re an oni. Your hair’s black while his was flames and his eyes resembled mine, not yours . . . Then why . . . Why is your attitude . . . Your behaviour. Your words and this boundless positivity no matter the situation . . . Why do you remind me of him so much? I don’t want to relive those regrets. I don’t want to lose control . . . I don’t want to . . . kill . . . Cassius . . . again.’

Tears were falling down her cheeks onto the concrete. Volley watched as the woman he thought impervious cried for her brother. He never would’ve expected himself to be the cause of her worries. He wasn’t surprised at all at her reluctance. He was disgusted at the audience’s reaction earlier, and now comparing himself to her he saw in just how different the world Miss Vilivian lived in.

But they were sharing this one and whatever Vilivian’s thoughts on their relationship were, Volley considered her a friend. And he refused to leave her in that state.

‘Miss Vilivian, I don’t think you’re not giving yourself enough credit. There’s no reason for me to believe you’d ever lose control.’

‘I almost killed the man in the docks, that one day. I almost spilled the blood of innocent people. I am a monster, proven by my actions and the people who saw me.’

‘Miss Viliv, you spent a thousand years in a cave! Everyone would be as cautious as you were! And whoever called you a monster he better put a sock in it before he says something he really shouldn’t. You fought me, Miss Viliv. Even though you were holding back I did push you to your limits. There were plenty of occasions for you to lose control, but you didn’t. You’re no monster. You're decisive and unyielding. I saw the flash in your eyes when I threatened to take away your keepsake. I know that your pride and your promise didn’t allow you to forfeit the fight outright. I’m not going to imply that I know your brother, but if he really was anything like me then I’m certain he wouldn’t hold a grudge.’

‘How can you be so sure . . .?’

‘Because I’m incapable of holding one.’ Volley laughed. ‘Just like I believe you’re incapable of evil. I say, after a thousand years, people ought to change. And I’d like to believe that you’re no longer the same Vilivian you were back then.’

‘I don’t understand . . . You could simply take the win. Be one step closer to your wish. Why . . .?’

‘There’s only two things I want right now, Miss Viliv. The first one is a good fight, which only you can grant me at the very moment even despite your injuries. The second, is for you to recognize your own ability, Miss Viliv. As you can see, you’re the only person qualified for granting them. So, why don’t you hurry up and get up, eh? Don’t you have a promise to keep?’

After a few moments of silence Vilivian smiled slightly. She then let out a short scoff and raised her arm.

‘Do you mind helping me up, Volley?’ she asked.

And with a grand smile he did. Her right arm was slightly numb, but it was functional and the pain ceased. With her other hand she held her wound in the stomach.

‘Are you alright, Miss Viliv?’ he asked worriedly.

‘I’m fine.’ She said, ‘It’s hardly the severest wound I was dealt in my life. And it will most likely be rendered unworthy of consideration later.’ She smiled.

‘Oh?’ he smiled excitedly.

They moved towards the large climbing wall and though Volley was worried whether or not Vilivian would be able to beat the large obstacle; to his surprise she managed to climb up just fine by following behind Volley and listening to his directions.

It took them about ten minutes due to Vilivian’s injuries, but they eventually reached the top and were met with both cheers and jeers.

They went towards the middle of the half of the arena that wasn’t destroyed by Vilivian’s spell. Just like at the start, they stood several feet apart. To one side, a large hole and Vilivian’s keepsake stuck as it was, and on the other a thick forest, untouched by Matriarch’s arcane.

‘My dear Crossroads!’ Miss X tried to get a hold of the audience's mood. ‘The fighters’ truce is about to come to an end! Are you ready for the continuation of the greatest show on heaven and earth?!’

Members of the audience were swept away by X’s call to hype and answered with loud cheers.

‘. . . It’s not surprising they’d treat us with disdain, though aren’t they a little too gullible?’ Vilivian said in regards to the audience.

‘If a person dying is what makes them cheer they can piss right off.’ Volley said then smirked. ‘Hell, I just might and go to the town to grab some food just to rile ‘em up a little more.’

‘That certainly sounds like something you’d do.’

‘Doesn’t it? I reckon we both acted largely out of character today, eh, Miss Viliv?’

‘For better or for worse I suppose.’ She chuckled. ‘I have to thank you, Volley.’

‘Come now, Miss Viliv, let’s not get all sappy here . . .’

‘Truly. Thank you.’ She smiled wryly. ‘The promise I made to my Friend means the world to me and you reminded me of that. I had forgotten my resolve that allowed me to abandon my duty to pursue the wish and to tackle this completely new world head-on. You reminded me of that . . . I do not believe that my regret will pass in many, many years, but thanks to you I also remembered that I shared more with Cassius than just blood. He dreamed of travelling the world. The very same dream you and I have. And once it’s all over I intend to live out my life for the sake of this dream.’

Volley laughed cheerfully.

‘Glad to hear it, Miss Viliv! Why don’t I show you some of my favourite places, eh? There are few that have some really good food.’

‘I’d love to.’ She laughed, shortly. ‘I must also apologize to you.’

‘Apologize?’

‘Yes. Imploring you to fight for your life whilst holding back myself was unfair and disrespectful. I wanted for you to stay on your guard in an event that the worst should come. It never would and I understand that now. I disregarded my own humanity that I attained during the years I spent interacting with. I truly apologize.’

‘You needn’t, Miss Viliv, but I’m glad you see it that way. I guess I can consider one of the two wishes granted, then.’

‘Ha. Then all that remains is for me to make up for my lack of courtesy. I won’t delude myself, Volley. Wounded, in this form I cannot possibly hold a candle to your strength and endurance.’

‘Does that mean . . .?’

‘The audience is getting impatient.’

She clenched her fists. All veins on her body lit up with a bright purple light.

‘Only handful pushed me to this point. Just one lived to tell the tale.’ She smiled, almost ravenously. ‘It’s been too long.’

Her torso grew in size exponentially, ripping through her blouse. The flesh morphed; her wound healed, her breasts disappeared and her skin changed to a dark, coal-like colour. Her arms grew in length and her fingers turned to claws.

Her legs and feet grew in size tearing through trousers and boots respectively. Her feet turned to talons and from her back she started growing a tail.

Her head had lost all its hair; falling off and withering away in a sparkling dust. Her head turned white in colour and grew in both size and length, starting to resemble a calf skull. Her eyes and nose disappeared inside the skull-like flesh

And, with a loud thud as Vilivian’s newly grown tail – long, bone-like and segmented – crashed onto the floor, the transformation was complete.

Cross Colosseum stood silent as Vilivian towered over the oni warrior, at least triple his size.

Most if not all were disturbed by the terrible spectacle of flesh and bones. Her body continued to twitch and stretch a little as it accommodated its new size. Her purple heart could be faintly seen beating underneath her thin chest. Her long arms housed her vile claws that reached her knees and her pointy tail scraped the floor. There were no eyeballs though there were eye sockets. No mouth to speak of. The only article of clothing that remained intact was her tag. The white scarf adapted to new body and was snugly tied around Vilivian’s left arm.

She was a creature accommodated solely for hunting. A cryptid horror. And as Volley watched in an expression that was somewhere between terror and amazement, he could only utter two words.

‘. . . So cool.’

It was Miss X’s voice that broke the silence.

‘What is this?! It looks like Contestant Vilivian who seemed to be in a lot of trouble had an ace up her (now torn to shreds) sleeve! She’s turned into a bona-fide monster!’

I AM A DEMON.

Everyone flinched as they heard Vilivian’s morphed voice resound in their heads. It was echoing, almost hollow. Her telepathy reached all the living beings in the stadium.

Miss X looked around confused. ‘What’s going on?’ she asked.

Volley took a few steps back and put up fists. His destructive nature of an oni was at an all time high, but at the same time there was this feeling in the back of his mind that his fighting spirit won’t be enough to topple Vilivian in that form. She had an advantage in every aspect.

‘That’s it, Miss Viliv. No more holding back, got it?!’ he shouted.

I SHALL GIVE YOU YOUR GOOD FIGHT, she said and then immediately got on all fours, ready to pounce at any moment. THOUGH IT MAY BE TURN OUT TO BE TOO GOOD FOR YOU.

‘And I wouldn’t have it any other way!’

GOOD! FEAST YOUR EYES ON THE MIGHT OF THE MATRIARCH!!!

She rushed him on all fours and though Volley barely reacted and managed to jump to the side, he was caught by Vilivian’s right hand and was carried a distance. She ran on her two legs at ludicrous speed with her tail wailing around in the wind.

With her one arm, she crushed him into a tree, scraping off the bark with his body. His shirt was torn and his back was bleeding as she then planted him into the ground like a tree.

He gasped out for air as his body was crushed by her hand. She raised her fists into the air and cast them down at him.

Perhaps it was the impending doom that granted Volley a second wind, but he managed to crawl underneath her legs as she attacked.

Her fists quaked the earth and Volley lost balance for a moment. He turned to see her tail coming to stab him and he grabbed it.

He fruitlessly tried to wrestle with it. Perhaps to topple her to the ground. Anything to gain him advantage.

But instead, she lifted the tail and Volley along with it and through a quick fling crashed him into yet another tree.

Bark and leaves fell on knocked out Volley, who struggled to maintain steadfastness in the situation, but he was certain that something was broken. Before he managed to even notice Vilivian she had lifted him with her left arm.

‘You know,’ he said weakly. ‘Despite what I said, I wouldn’t mind if you held back a little.’

I AM HOLDING BACK.

‘Ah. Bully for you, then.’

He was tossed at the ground and rolled on towards the thicket.

Yep. Something’s broken, alright.

But at this point pain was a minor inconvenience. Thankfully, he realized that brute force wasn’t going to cut it when he did.

YOUR RESILIENCE IS ADMIRABLE, VOLLEY, Vilivian’s voice reached him as she trudged towards his direction. Her talons crashed the ground beneath with ease. BUT YOU WON’T BE ABLE TO HOLD OUT FOR LONG.

Volley laughed

‘Yeah, well . . .’ he raised his tail. It was holding onto a white scarf. ‘I don’t have to.’

Vilivian looked at her left arm. Her tag was gone.

HOW . . .? Her hollow voice for the first time sounded confused.

‘I snatched it when you grabbed me. And now . . .’

He shoved the white scarf into his mouth and tried to swallow it.

FOOL OF AN ONI! Her voice echoed strongly in his head, almost dazing him.

She rushed towards him in all fours, but Volley had already jumped into the thicket, trying to hide himself and escape.

‘I simply cannot believe it! Contestant Volley who was on his backfoot since Vilivian’s transformation had managed to snatch away his adversary’s tag and then ATE it! Will he be able to overcome this challenge?! Find out in THIRTY SECONDS!’

Thirty seconds. That’s all he had to run around for. He had hoped he’d be able to swallow this thing whole, but it was too thick to go down his throat and was actually choking on it. So, he simply held it in his mouth, opening it just enough to get air when he needed.

He crawled on his stomach through the grass as Vilivian desperately rampaged just behind him. His small frame actually allowed him to remain somewhat stealthy.

He knew that it wasn’t the most “honourable” way of settling things, especially after all the big talk he did earlier, but that woman was capable of using his body as a lumberjacking tool. He was never as thankful for his oni heritage as he was now as it allowed him to survive her first onslaught.

Suddenly, the sounds stopped and so did he as to not give away his position.

I CAN SENSE YOU.

His heart almost jumped out when Vilivian broke through a nearby tree and lunged for him.

‘Ten seconds!’

X’s voice resounded as Vilivian grabbed him and started slamming his back into the ground.

‘Nine!’

Thud! She slammed him again, but he valiantly kept his mouth shut and the scarf safe.

‘Eight!’

Thud!

‘Seven!’

Thud!

‘Six!’

RELINQUISH IT.

‘Nuh-uh!’ he uttered.

‘Five!!’

THUD!!! and Volley felt something break.

He opened his mouth to scream and the scarf fell out. Vilivian snatched it with her own tongue – long and red and as flexible as her tail.

She then threw him out of the forest like a baseball. He rolled on the ground and the audience gasped as he almost fell down to the ravine.

‘She did! Contestant Vilivian retrieved the tag!’

Yeah, I know, he thought. He stood up, somehow. He had a rib broken. Maybe two. Perhaps three. There was also something sloshing inside him and it couldn’t be good. Also, he was getting hungry.

He turned back and saw Vilivian slowly walking out of the forest. Her tongue out holding her own scarf. She put it all inside her mouth.

Yeah, he deserved it. Good on her, he laughed in spirit, because laughing physically hurt him.

He was in a predicament. What else was there for him to do? The only good idea he had just went down her stomach. Ask her nicely to surrender? It had the biggest chance for success!

He didn’t intend to go down without a fight. As long as he could stand, as long as there was an oni blood coursing through his veins, he was willing to fight. He was going to fight.

Volley then looked to the side and saw it.

The keepsake.

She said that her friend used it to cut her in half. If he could use it. Just one good swing.

He looked at her and she stopped moving. She waited.

She knows, doesn’t she? He thought.

Of course. She can easily stop him from reaching for it. Hell, she’s probably daring him to go for it. “Piss around and find out” is what she’s probably thinking, he guessed.

Well, I just might piss around and potentially find out! I will piss around and fight until I drop dead!

He laughed weakly.

As if . . . Yeah, maybe yesterday. Or a week ago, he would’ve. But Miss Vilivian wouldn’t want him to do that. She’s gone through enough already. And there was also Auntie watching . . . and the creeps in the audience would get turned on by that.

No. He got what he wanted. His good fight. He wasn’t keen on dying during it. So laughable, his attitude was. Ah . . .

But all he needs . . . is one good swing.

Volley smiled.

Then sat down on the floor.

‘I can’t keep this up anymore.’ He laughed happily and took off his tag. ‘I surrender.’

There was a brief silence and then an explosion of applause.

‘And that’s it! Contestant Volley forfeits his tag! Everyone! Please! Warm ovations to the winner of today’s third fight and the third semi-finalist: Vilivian of Lilith!’

Volley lied on his back. Exhausted, spent and hungry. He laughed as much as he could without feeling too much pain.

ARE YOU SATISFIED WITH THIS? Vilivian’s tender voice echoed in his mind.

‘Aye,’ he said, unsure if she could even hear him. ‘T’was a bloody good fight.’

***

Sunset over the Ume Bay painted the sky orange and Vilivian watched it from a distance; from over a calmness of the Zo River to be exact, as rare as it happened. She was leisurely spending her time fishing. Her keepsake sword was stuck in the ground next to her and an empty bucket on the other. She was given a new set of clothes after her fight. A loose white blouse and short pants along with “sneakers”. Her right arm was bandaged and her wound on the stomach treated as there was a scar left.

‘Poor haul?’

She looked up. Chifu was standing above her holding a large bottle, probably of some alcohol.

‘It’d be great. If I was slightly better at it.’ She waved her fishing rod.

There was a bite. It escaped.

‘You weren’t there to see the last fight of the day.’

Chifu sat down next to her.

‘No.’

‘Aren’t you interested in who you will go up against?’

‘I’ll see tomorrow.’

‘Taking it easy at last, hm?’

Vilivian smiled briefly.

‘Yes.’

‘You know, that was some fight. Saki was literally at the edge of the seat the whole time. Frankly, I was thinking that I’d have to hold her back from jumping into the arena when you started mauling the poor boy down.’

‘I would never hurt him.’

‘Yes. I’m glad to see you understand that yourself now.’

Vilivian smiled again.

‘That being said, where is Volley?’

‘He’s resting. I might’ve broken several of his ribs and also caused heavy internal and external bleeding. But he’ll be fine.’

‘I’d expect him to be with you. He’s your friend after all, you know? Since you used his first name and all.’

There was a bite. It escaped.

‘Isn’t jealousy generally frowned upon in deities?’

‘There are gods much pettier than I, Viliv, trust me.’ Chifu sighed. ‘And to think that I even sent for a bottle of your local delicacy.’

Vilivian glanced at the bottle. ‘What is it?’

‘Mushroom Juice. I have to say, Viliv, if the mages of your world were as competent at magic as they are at making alcohols from deep-dwelling magical mushrooms then maybe they wouldn’t lose almost a thousand years’ worth of history.’

‘What?’

‘Nothing. Why don’t you have a sip?’

Vilivian took the bottle and uncorked it. She took a sip and moved it around in her mouth then swallowed it.

‘How is it?’

‘Bloody.’ She handed back the bottle and Chifu took a sip.

‘I’d say it tastes kind of like a sweet tomato.’

‘I never had a tomato.’

‘Goodness me! what does Saki feed you, then?’

‘Meat.’

‘Right. Birds of a feather . . . You know, that bottle was really difficult to obtain.’

There was a bite. It escaped.

‘I doubt that.’

‘Alright, it wasn’t that hard, but I had to go certain lengths, you know?’

‘I appreciate it, Trickster.’

‘I just feel like our friendship isn’t moving anywhere . . .’

‘Our relationship is progressing just fine, Trickster.’

‘I’m just worried that you’ll start calling Saki by her name before me . . .’

‘Your fears are understandable, Trickster.’

‘Now, you’re just mocking me, aren’t you?’

‘I would never.’ Vilivian said deadpan.

There was a bite. It escaped.

And then they both laughed.

‘Ah, Viliv, your melodic laughter is a cure for the soul. Judging by your attempts at humour, is it alright to assume that you’ve let go of all your regrets and are now ready to lead a carefree life in pursuit of happiness?’

That caused Vilivian to ponder.

Where would she be if she had lost the first round? If she succumbed to her depression and guilt? Would she return to her home world and join her sisters in the Pendulum? Or would she return to Graal to try and wait until someone kills her.

It was difficult to not cling onto the past. The regrets and traumas were a part of her experience. She wondered even, for a little while, whether or not she should change her wish.

Though, knowing him, he would be much angrier than happy if she brought him back. And besides, she wanted to live out their dream for the both of them.

Crossroads proved that there are worlds worthy of travelling to, but if she were to leave now, she’d like to walk hers. Visit the places that she and her brother would read about the volumes in their library.

It wouldn’t be anytime soon that she’d come to forgive herself for what she did, but that way she could at least exercise some of his will.

Vilivian smiled at the river.

‘If only it were so easy.’

There was a bite.

She caught the fish.

[Vilivian] Round 2: Good Fun

Original doc

It was a couple hours before midnight in Crossroads – the greatest melting pot of cultures on that side of nowhere and also there. A thin rain drizzled from the dark empty sky, barely visible in the streetlight, spilling from rooftops into small crevices in the concrete and created a tiny river that coiled around town’s streets. Night’s damp cloak caused even the most nocturnal of residents to seek refuge from the drizzle with few exceptions.

One of the semi-finalists of the Crossroads Tournament – Pembrooke Artysup – was one of those exceptions. Alone, he staggered slalom down the alleys of Crossroads, unbothered by the rain falling on his exposed head.

Pembrooke wasn’t the kind of person to drink a lot. He liked to but never pushed himself beyond a certain limit. Tonight, however, was a cause for jubilation – he won! The moment he entered the Fox Den the drinks started pouring and as a semi-finalist he had no other option but to indulge himself along with some other patrons. He was eventually advised by the barkeep to get out and get some fresh air – true, he might’ve become very noticeably ill from too much drinking. Either that or she told him to leave because he called another patron a cunt.

But that’s how it is sometimes. For every couple dozen people celebrating your victory there’s always that one person who will undermine your achievements. A natural thing would be to ignore such individuals and get on with the drinking, but at the time the natural thing seemed to be mouthing them off.

Yes, Pembrooke might’ve achieved his victory through very underhanded means. Yes, he might’ve abused the naivete of his opponent, but that’s life. And life is like a . . . like a . . .

He almost walked into a lamp post, but he managed to (through drunken grace) avoid it at the last second. He grabbed it, did a full spin and continued walking down.

He breathed in the air and started humming as he continued his line of thought.

Life is like an animal. A mammal. Female mammal. Think chicken. Hen. That’s poultry. Think pets. Puppies. Dog. Bitch. Life’s a bitch. It’s perfect, in the beginning – you care for it and in exchange it smothers you with love and affection. But then it grows up. It starts biting when you try to pet it. You go out on a walk and it pulls the leash. You collapse into mud and then it starts pissing on you. So, you decide to train it and it takes years of hard work and commitment to teach it one trick, but you’re done and are proud of it so you take it to the park to let it play with the other dogs and all the other dogs are much younger and far more talented and disciplined and you get jealous, but you still care for your dog because, well, it’s your dog and you only get one so you stick by it and when, just when, it finally opens its bitter heart to you, starts caring about you . . . then you realize that it’s dying and miserable and you start thinking about putting it down but you don’t because despite everything it never let you go and after all this time you’ve grown so attached that despite all of its flaws you hold onto it because it’s yours. Even when laying stuck in a gutter, with everything lost or gone, your life . . . that bitch . . . It’s all you’ve ever had.

His world started spinning so he crouched down by the nearby wall and belched. He stared down the water moving through the street into the drainage. After he calmed down he decided to call it a day. He stood up and decided to find his way onto the beach.

Pembrooke took a few steps before a character emerged from darkness. She was a shorter woman. Her red hair glittered, wet from the rain and her sharp emerald eyes drilled into him intensely, like a hunter analysing their prey.

‘What’s that smell?’ he asked.

The woman raised a bucket in her two hands showing him the insides. A few small fish were gathered at the bottom. They were a rather miserable haul.

‘I see.’ He said and got a closer look at the woman. Her right arm was bandaged and through her shirt he could see that so was her stomach. He took a long and good look before he sobered up and realized that her white blouse was completely see-through.

‘Ma’am, your shirt!’ He turned away shyly.

‘What about it?’ she asked, slightly startled by his reaction.

‘It’s wet! Completely see-through!’

‘Indeed. The rain caught me off-guard.’ She looked up and blinked quickly as some drops got into her eyes.

Pembrooke took off his bomber jacket and handed it over to the woman.

‘Please, cover yourself with it!’

‘I’m not cold though . . .’ The woman frowned but she did put down the bucket and took the jacket nonetheless.

He looked at her finally. He was so confused. Why was he more worried about it than she was? He felt like a fool. They stared at each other for some reason. He was expecting some sort of thanks, but he realized that there wasn’t any coming further cementing his foolishness. Perhaps she caught him staring?

‘I’ve gotta go!’ he said quickly and excused himself, not even bothering to glance back. He felt his ears redden from alcohol. Yes, alcohol. Must be.

He arrived at the beach where the almighty Axelion was parked.

Metal; a humanoid machine, was kneeling in the sand – with its one eye it watched the horizon. It’s now become a landmark in the Crossroads. During daytime, folks would come to admire it; children play with it – use it as a large and unique jungle gym.

Pembrooke didn’t mind so long as no one got in. He was willing to trust that the guards were doing their jobs keeping it somewhat safe.

He climbed up into the cockpit. Stale air vented out and let in some fresh rainy fragrance. He didn’t mind some of the rain getting in.

He closed the cockpit doors and made himself comfortable. The inside was snug although a little dirty. There were empty bags after snacks lying around, a few loose bullets and even a grenade hanging from the ceiling. For luck.

He contemplated briefly connecting himself to the Axelion, but decided against it ultimately. He’s had enough of the world for now. The magic that was there at the start perished rather quickly. It’s more of the same – just with more flavours.

He closed his eyes and dozed off. It was an eventful day. He’s won his first round. And while Pembrooke didn’t really consider it satisfying he at least ended the day on an altruistic note.

Pembrooke had a feeling that he knew that woman from somewhere, though. He tried his hardest to remember, but he kept going back to that . . . another memory.

He listened to the rain battering the Axelion. He was slightly chilly without his jacket, but he quickly began snoring anyway.

***

Vilivian arrived at the Fox Den, bucket in hand. It was still packed, but it was relatively quiet. A couple of laughs from every other table, many guests eating or drinking alone or just people seeking temporary refuge from the rain.

As she walked towards the bar she noticed a few anxious glances thrown her way. Ever since her showing at the colosseum some people haven’t been reacting very well to her presence. Thanks to her experiences during the first round, she’s learned to accept her demon side and not allow it to overshadow her humanity, but most of the population didn’t know that.

Their affection wasn’t her goal, though it did sting a bit, but at least she didn’t have to pretend to be more human than she already was.

The customers she walked next to recoiled; perhaps out of apprehension held towards her or the repugnant smell coming from the fish bucket.

She put the bucket on the bar in front of Saki – the Fox Den’s owner and bartender.

‘I’ve brought the fish.’ Vilivian announced.

Saki peered down the bucket and witnessed three fish, two of which resembled a half-decay fish corpse and calling the third one “a fish” was an overstatement of the century.

Despite their sorry state the oni bartender nodded seriously.

‘I can make this work.’ She picked up the bucket and went towards the kitchen.

Vilivian sat down at the barstool and tried to somewhat fix her wet hair.

‘Cute jacket.’

Vilivian looked to the side. Next to her, Chifu was smiling with a mug of beer in one hand and a pipe in the other.

‘Trickster,’ she nodded her head and looked down at her brown jacket. ‘I received it from a stranger. He expressed . . . strange concerns over apparently lacklustre attire.’

‘You wouldn’t want to catch a cold before your fight tomorrow, would you?’

The Crossroads’ Madame laughed happily and drank her beer. From the seat next to her leaned out a teenage oni.

‘G’day, Miss Viliv!’ he said. He wasn’t wearing any top. His torso was almost fully bandaged save for a few spots.

‘Hello, Volley.’ Vilivian smiled warmly. ‘How are your wounds?’

‘Bloody excruciating!’ he bared his fangs in a wide grin.

‘Oh . . .’

‘Don’t fret, Miss Viliv. Auntie gave me some good ointment and now it only hurts my ribs a little when I have a giggle!’ he laughed. ‘Ack!’ he scowled through a smile and returned to his meal.

‘I thought seeing her nephew beaten into a pulp would get Saki to go all soft and bring out her best potions brews in order to bring her baby back into fighting shape.’ Chifu chucked.

‘I’mh nhot ha bhaby!’ Volley said with a mouthful of food.

‘I think she made it a point that Volley cannot handle her strongest potions. Then again, I am surprised to see you here at this hour, Trickster. Doesn’t that kind of festivity spawn an immense amount of work to the benefactor of the event?’

‘You overestimate how organized this place really is. Besides, I have a very efficient Clean Desk policy.’ She said smugly.

‘Why don’t you enlighten us about your Fireplace policy then?’ Saki emerged from the kitchen and put a glass of white wine in front of Vilivian. ‘Far as I know that’s where most of the paperwork ends up.’

‘. . . It’s a work in progress.’

‘By the way, isn’t that Pembrooke’s jacket?’ Saki pointed out.

‘I don’t know, they didn’t introduce themselves. Who is he?’

‘That’d be your opponent tomorrow..’ Chifu smoked from a pipe. ‘Cute kid, if a little jaded.’

‘He was rather flushed when we met. He’d turned his eyes away and told me to cover myself with this.’ Vilivian looked at Chifu askingly. ‘Should I try and repay his kindness?’

‘It’s been raining, eh?’ Chifu smiled. ‘He is a teenager, so he’s already got his due, but why not?’

‘He’s twenty-one.’ Said Saki.

‘So, a teenager that can drink. Big difference.’

‘Rather significant.’ She let out a sigh. ‘I had to ask him to leave my establishment.’

‘Gotten rowdy?’

‘Hecklers. And he’s the type that fights back. I think some fresh air did him good considering he wanted to help out Viliv.’

‘Or maybe he just remembered her fight. How do you find your new reputation, Vilivian?’

‘Not as constraining.’

‘Isn’t freedom wonderful? Don’t be afraid to make use of it. Some shopkeepers wouldn’t dare to stop you in fear of seeing your other half.’

Vilivian frowned.

‘. . . Are you telling me to rob shops in your own town?’

‘Sure, just don’t get caught. Or else I’ll have to punish you.’ She drank the beer. ‘Oh, don’t make that face, Viliv. It’s not like I’m greenlighting breaking windows and burning down the restaurants. All I mean is that a simple suggestion that you may transform at any given moment may make people more amiable.’

‘Chi!’ Saki scolded her.

‘No.’ Vilivian shook her head. ‘I’ve reconciled my natures. I am a demon, but I won’t let that part of me forfeit the law and customs of a civilized world.’

‘Pragmatic.’ Said Chifu with a hint of disappointment in her voice. ‘And ultimately dull and boring.’

‘I don’t require my life to be constantly entertained, Trickster.’

‘But after a thousand years you don’t want it to be bland either, do you? Life’s like a drink, Viliv. There’re myriad recipes, but everyone’s got their favourite one. And everyone’s fixing their drinks by adding in their own personal touches. Change up the ratio of order and chaos a little, sprinkle in some love or add in a touch of adventure. However, there are many who try and experiment and they just can’t get it to taste perfect, because they lack that. The one secret ingredient. And some go through their lives supposedly fulfilled and content yet lacking that something.’

‘What’s your ingredient?’

‘Fun!’ Chifu answered without hesitation.

‘I don’t believe I can make my life revolve around “fun”.’

‘Maybe you shouldn’t though it would be entertaining to watch you pull pranks on people. You’ve centuries ahead of you, you know? As your friend I’d be pained to see you constrain yourself by a single-mindedness.’

‘I know what my purpose is, Trickster. I’ll win your tournament and after that . . . I might travel. And I’ll be satisfied by simply adhering to the rules instated wherever I end up.’

‘Of course! Nothing wrong abiding by the laws of the land you walk. However, abiding by them is one thing completely separate from letting your mind be influenced . . . No, policed by those laws. Even the greatest dimwit can find purpose through the freedom of their own thoughts. And some worlds . . . want to take away even that.’

‘I find that hard to believe.’

‘Why, Pembrooke’s world particularity regarding martial prowess may spawn some comments should you ask him about it. Then again, you wouldn’t want to be so easily influenced; your beliefs may fall in with the lies his world tells tales of whilst the truth is stranger than fiction – at least it would be from your point of view.’

‘What should I do then?’

‘Ah, see. That’s the question you shouldn’t ask. You ought to ask “what would you do” or “how would you approach this”. Do not imply your mind to be a grade-schooler’s notebook; anyone can scribble whatever rubbish comes across. Treat it as a canvas. A creation of inspiration collected from the people you desire so much to emulate . . . That being said – if I were in your place I’d ask myself: what would make me happy?’

Vilivian frowned.

‘Bringing back my friend, of course.’

‘And then?’

‘Well . . . Without pondering I can say that . . . this question’s not as easy to answer as I’d think.’

‘Indeed. Let’s drink to that. To the pursuit of happiness!’

Chifu clinked Vilivian’s glass of wine with her own mug of beer. Two women then downed their drinks.

‘What would my drink of life be?’ Volley asked.

‘Grape juice.’ Chifu answered without looking at him.

Saki approached to refill Chifu’s drink and looked sternly at Vilivian.

‘Long-term goals aside, let's talk right now. I think you should take a shower, Vilivian. You reek of fish.’

Vilivian frowned like a scalded cat.

‘I already bathed twice today.’ She argued. ‘Once in the morning and once post-fight.’

‘Yes, but you reek of fish right now.’

Saki’s cold glare sent chills down the Matriarch’s spine. Both Chifu and Volley instinctively turned away from Vilivian’s pleading glances, knowing fully well that the thousand-year-old half-demon was fighting the inevitable.

‘. . . I was out in the rain though . . .’

‘Shower. Now.’

***

Pembrooke woke up in the dimness of his Axelion. He tried to stretch his numb legs; he looked at his wristwatch – he’s been napping for almost an hour though it felt like days.

Energized, he stumbled out of the cockpit onto the sand and relieved himself at the end of the dock. As if in trance he watched the sea reflect the moonlight behind him, his shadow malformed in the water; the ocean fragrance was a fine cure for his headache.

The smell of the marine reminded him of the encounter with the red-haired woman earlier. He remembered remembering her, but he couldn’t remember what exactly he was not remembering. Was she on stands perhaps? He could’ve sworn he’s seen her earlier, maybe in the tavern? A chill ran through his body and he sneezed. Hard. The kind of sneeze that’s as loud as a jet engine and shakes the earth as much as the body.

Pembrooke recoiled, the pain in his head worsened for a moment and he remembered.

There was a woman – and that woman then changed into a monster. A very scary monster. And then that monster beat the ever-loving crap out of some kid.

There was also a lot happening beforehand, but Pembrooke spent most of his time during that fight standing in the line for beer which wasn’t even worth the wait. The swivel they served was so watered down it didn’t matter if it was the finest ale in the town.

That woman is his next opponent. What was her name? Vena . . . Veli . . . Vili . . . Not important right now. His approach to the battle is a priority.

He sighed, resigned. That sounded like tomorrow’s Pembrooke’s problem, not his.

Fancying himself a drink he left for town.

As he walked, he thought about the tournament. His rich imagination considered the possibilities regarding the wish. He fancied himself a new bike. That would make him happy, wouldn’t it?

As he asked himself that the inner voice almost immediately answered with a resounding “No.”

That’s the problem. Nothing he did or worked towards carried a single prospect of satisfaction or happiness. It’s as if he biked fifty kilometres uphill only to find out that the pancake shop he strived to eat at was mediocre at best.

Yes, he made a good workout. Yes, he did eat an ultimately nourishing and tasty meal, but it wasn’t fulfilling enough to justify the effort put in.

Not to mention, that the biker he passed at the foot of the mountain somehow managed to get up there faster, enjoyed his meal much more and went down the hill being ultimately satisfied.

It was just so vexing. All the effort he puts in, all the little satisfaction he gets from a job well done is snuffed out by a prick with less brains than a comatose snail who happens to be slightly more talented than he is. It’s all so tiresome.

He arrived at the Fox Den. At that point all he had on his mind was a drink. He reached for the door and it opened suddenly.

‘You!’ Pembrooke pointed finger at the familiar red-haired woman. She was wearing a red jacket and blue jeans. Sword was tied behind her back and her hair shined in the dim light.

‘Me, indeed.’ She tilted her head. ‘You’re . . .’

‘Pembrooke. Pembrooke Artysup. It’s a pleasure.’

‘We’ve met. I’m Vilivian.’

‘Yeah, we have I . . .’ he flushed at the memory. ‘I gave you my jacket.’

‘Indeed.’ She handed over the folded cloth to him. ‘And now I return it.’

‘Oh. Thank you.’

‘It’s been cleaned and dried by the Bartender.’

He put on his tan jacket and everything seemed right in the world.

‘Right. So, we’re opponents tomorrow, eh?’

‘I’ve been told so by the Trickster. I’ve been on my way to return your jacket to you. You retire to sleep at the beach, correct?’

‘When I don’t feel like rooming at an inn.’ He shrugged. ‘Could’ve come in the morning.’

‘I may . . . have issues when it comes to returning the items lent to me.’ She looked aside and grimaced.

‘Really? Well, I won’t blame you then,’ He chuckled. ‘Sorry for the trouble. Still, it’s awfully considerate of you.’

‘If that’s your impression of me. I’m rather perplexed to actually find you awake at this hour.’

‘I got thirsty. Besides, I could say the same to you.’

‘I don’t need nearly as much sleep as humans do.’

‘Right, because you’re a . . . er . . .’

‘A demon.’

‘I was going to say “a monster”.’

‘They’re synonymous to most, I find.’

‘Sorry! I meant no offense!’ Pembrooke panicked.

‘None taken.’ She smiled slightly.

‘Er, yes, well . . .’ he coughed out. ‘So, what are you doing tonight? I mean, in general. Since you don’t need to sleep. Just out of curiosity.’

‘There’s a meeting for me to attend. I intended to head there after I’d given you back your clothes, so I suppose I’ll go there now.’

‘Right. Right . . .’ Pembrooke was surprised to find himself disappointed. ‘Don’t let me keep you then.’

Vilivian stared at him for a few seconds before she spoke up.

‘Actually. Would you mind accompanying me?’

He raised an eyebrow.

‘If you don’t mind missing out on a drink that is.’

‘Not in particular . . . What kind of meeting is that? Is it shady?’

‘I don’t possess enough knowledge to assess what comes across as “shady” in this town. As far as I can see everything’s legal. It’s nothing endangering though, if that’s what you’re asking.’

‘Well,’ he scratched the back of his head. ‘That’s fine. Where to?’

‘The inn.’

***

The Kit’Inn was a part of the larger building connected to the Colosseum. It had a neatly decorated interior that housed the Crossroads’ travellers as well as a lot of cats.

One could literally trip over one whilst walking in there. Even the receptionist at the desk carried feline ears.

At the second floor of the inn, Vilivian knocked on the door with Pembrooke standing behind her.

There was a sound of something being moved. Then something is being thrown. Then glass breaking. Finally, the clicking sound came from the lock and the door opened slightly and from the dimness of the room half a pair of round glasses emerged.

‘Whomst?’ said the woman.

‘Sorceress. It is I – Vilivian of Lilith. I have come as we agreed.’

The door opened wide and the “sorceress” inside welcomed them with a large smile. She was a young woman; close to Vilivian in age, Pembrooke thought. She was wearing a purple dress fastened by the belt. Large, round glasses covered her green eyes and her vividly green hair was tied into thick twin tails.

‘Viliv! Good to see you! I’ve been worried you wouldn’t make it. Oh?’ she looked at Pembrooke. ‘Who’s this?’

‘He’s—’

‘My name’s Pembrooke.’ He answered. ‘I was asked to come here, though I’m not exactly sure why.’ He looked askingly at Vilivian and the other woman followed suit.

‘Apologies. I’d like to give him something, so I’ve brought him here.’

‘Give me something?’

‘Oh, it’s perfectly fine! My name is Wendy Williams.’ She smiled. ‘It’s nice to meet you, Pembrooke.’

‘The pleasure’s all mine, Wendy. Sorry to bother you unannounced.’

‘Don’t mention it. Please, come in! And mind the glass.’

She let them into the room. A heavy stench of chemicals lingered in the thick air of the room. It was enlightened by a standing lamp in the corner. Strange variety of tools littered the only desk in the room and somewhere underneath the thick layer of parchments one could find a carpet. Wendy’s bed appeared to function as a storing space. Only a fraction of it remained clear and Pembrooke wagered that if Wendy curled up and lied down she’d fit right in.

There was a singular plant on a windowsill. Its colourful leaves led Pembrooke to believe that it was victim of Wendy’s magical experiments. As did most thing in the room.

The curtains were clearly set aflame at some point. The beige ceiling had a large, dark stain in the middle and the only chair in the room appeared strangely ordinary.

They closed the door and stepped in avoiding the broken glass vase. Pembrooke could’ve sworn it crawled.

‘Please, sit whenever!’ Wendy said frantically. ‘Not on the bed though! There’re combustible rosebuds fermenting under the mattress. And try to avoid putting too much pressure on the floor. I had to rent out the room below due to risk . . . You can lean on the wall if you’d like. They’re safe. I think . . . Oh, there’s the chair!’ she pulled up the aforementioned chair.

‘It’s fine. I’ll stand.’ Said Vilivian.

‘I’ll sit. I feel like whatever you’ll talk about might take a while.’ Pembrooke sat down on the chair but almost immediately jolted back up. ‘What did I sit on?’

‘So!’ Wendy clasped her hands. ‘Vilivian. Am I to understand you’re willing to share your knowledge of magic with me?’

Wendy was brimming with excitement. She was the type of gal that got excited about all things scientific and theoretical. On the contrary, Pembrooke yawned as he leaned on the wall. He was partly invested in this meeting. Mainly due a fact Vilivian wanted to give him something. For now, though, he was as useful as pogo stick on a minefield.’

‘Be heeded, that I don’t know all there is about my world’s magic. I’ll only relay what I know in exchange for your own knowledge.’

Vilivian put both her hands behind her and stared at Wendy. Her face was like stone.

‘Fair. We’re here to learn. Where to start . . .’ She pondered for a little. ‘Well. Firstly, the magic in my world is granted by the influence of certain crystals. The magi are gifted with the ability to use an energy called “mana” in order to cast magic.’

‘So, there are those who aren’t gifted with it?’

‘Theoretically. Crystals not only bring the gift of magic, but also vitalize the lands allowing for agriculture. Lands are otherwise left barren and inhabitable. So, yes, most born in our towns are gifted with the ability to use magic. Unless the crystal is at life’s end, but the town usually moves to a new location when that happens.’

Pembrooke looked up.

‘Wait. What’s the lifespan then?’

‘On average, about a hundred years?’ Wendy scoffed sadly. ‘If the fortune favours, that is.’

‘But that’s barely a few human generations.’ Vilivian said mildly distressed.

‘You’re practically nomads.’

‘Yes. It’s troubling.’ Wendy smiled wryly but cheered up immediately. ‘In any case – magic! It’s near impossible to channel mana without some help. In my case - I use glyphs.’

Wendy waved her gloved finger in the air. A rainbow trace followed it and she drew something resembling something resembling spikes. She then picked one edge and pulled it with her finger. The magical painting convened at her fingertip and changed its colour to bright orange. She then locked it in her fist and opened it palm up – a small flame burst above it.

Pembrooke barely held off himself from applauding.

‘Some use staves. Or tomes.’

She closed the flame in her hand and it disappeared. She looked straight into Vilivian’s eyes, barely containing her excitement.

‘Your turn.’

Vilivian raised her right hand. Pembrooke watched as blue light engulfed veins on her hand. She snapped her fingers and a flame appeared above her palm as well.

Wendy’s eyes opened wide and she immediately lunged for a notepad on her desk and started making notes.

‘Magic is in the blood. It runs through every creature in my world.’

‘Fascinating! Then how do you manifest it?’

‘It depends.’ Vilivian extinguished the fire. ‘For most creatures it responds to instinct or emotions like fear and anger. Humans, however, have to train themselves to command by the force of their will.

‘That’s a given. One wouldn’t want to cause mayhem due to angrily thrown magic!’

‘Magic won’t answer to the emotions of a human. Not on a scale you imagine at least.’

‘Why is that?’

‘Humans are . . . resistant to it. Their bodies largely nullify its influence. What a demon learns in a year, a human requires ten. They not only need to adapt themselves to magic, but also bend it to their will.’

‘Interesting . . .’ Wendy noted that down. ‘Then, would you mind if we did some experiments? I have prepared a few trials that should go with any kind of magic . . .’

Wendy reached for something on her desk. Pembrooke was about to groan. He was barely keeping himself from dozing off where he stood.

Thankfully, Vilivian was there to stop Wendy’s relentless pursuit of knowledge.

‘Sorceress, the time for experiments will come later. There’s a question I’d like to ask. Are you capable of any restoration magic?’

Wendy turned around towards the Matriarch immediately, fascinated by that question.

‘Restoration . . . Personally, no. It’s a complex and difficult school of magic to master. Just conjuring up elements is hard work, but skilled healers are far and between. Why the question?’

‘I know restoration magic.’ Vilivian admitted and before Wendy managed to pick up her jaw and express her excitement she continued. ‘But it is an extremely painful process for the recipient.’

‘How come?’

‘The wound is fully healed. The flesh knits, the blood is cleansed and the innards set back into their proper place and form. And the healed one feels all of this. The stretching of a skin, the flushing of a—’

‘We get the point!’ Pembrooke interrupted. Wendy herself was listening with a sickened curiosity, but he wasn’t into the gore dramas.

‘. . .Yes. Most patients die from shock when they’re healed by magic. And using it on myself would be . . .’

‘Akin to performing a surgery on yourself, I understand.’ A chill ran down Pembrooke’s spine as she said that. ‘I have no knowledge of restoration magic, unfortunately. I’m sorry. Besides, I don’t know if I’d be able to teach you the magic I use.’

Wendy looked down sadly, but Vilivian’s face remained focused.

‘Can you enchant items, then?’

Wendy looked up.

‘I do . . .?’

‘What if I enchant an item with my own restoration spell and you could perhaps modify it by using your own spells?’

Wendy adjusted her glasses. Her expression changed to more focused and got enchanted into the conversation.

‘An item wouldn’t be able to contain two spells at the same time. I could sense particular vibrations when you cast spells. I’m not sure if the combined strength of two arcane forces wouldn’t be too much.’

‘Ah. Right you are. However, those are two different kinds of magic. Perhaps an exception may be found.’

‘It still depends on how they’d resonate with each other. They’d be enchanted into one object after all.’

‘We’d know if the repercussions were tragic. Some magic escapes into the atmosphere whenever I command it. If there were to be any consequences I’d sense it and I’m sure you would too.’

‘Don’t tell me you think that such a small magnitude of those spells would be enough to deem their union safe?’ Wendy smirked.

‘It doesn’t have to be strong.’ Vilivian raised her chin proudly. ‘The restoration spell I want to enchant in is effortless to any capable mage of my world. It’s the excruciating pain part that requires amendment.’

Wendy put her hand on her chin and thought awhile.

‘There’s still the issue of what exactly can I do to numb the pain. You’ve described it as excruciating, but I don’t know any pain-relieving spells.’

‘Surely, it wasn’t merely boasting about your intelligence back when you introduced yourself to me at the river.’

‘Well, I wasn’t expecting you to be demanding such feats from me! And while, hypothetically speaking, the idea is plausible it is as I said – without means to reduce the pain it won’t mean anything unless we find another trained enchanter.’

Both women pondered, whilst Pembrooke became one with the third wheel. What the hell are they talking about? He thought.

This ordeal was strange in the weirdest way possible. His opponent was trying to get him a crutch – and he couldn’t fathom why? To mock him? Out of some strange respect? Not only that, but he could notice that every now and then Vilivian would throw glances at him. It flattered him, certainly, but he’s begun getting suspicious. It was as if she was expecting him to pitch in to this madness, but Pembrooke wasn’t too keen on playing those games.

And yet . . .

‘What about electricity?’ he blurted out. The women looked at him. Vilivian was somewhat lost, but there was a flame behind Wendy’s glasses.

‘Electricity . . . It does possess some analgesic capabilities . . .’

Wicked smile appeared on Wendy’s face. She immediately pulled up the chair to her desk and started drawing something on a piece of paper. At first, it resembled something akin to electric current, but then she started adding more and more drawings all the while Wendy laughed and mumbled under her breath.

‘The current needs to be strong enough to numb . . . but not strong enough to kill . . . targeting the nerves? Oh, yes. Yes! That would do. Ah. But it’d shatter, wouldn’t it? Mmm . . . how about crystals . . . they’re pure magic and if I realigned these drawings into something more compact . . . Oh, my, yes. Yes. Yes!’

Wendy started cackling as her pencil burned through the paper. Vilivian and Pembrooke looked at her worryingly.

‘More of a witch than sorceress, isn’t she?’ Pembrooke whispered.

‘Be mindful you don’t repeat my mistake and say that out loud.’ Vilivian said in a pained voice and then she smiled at him. ‘Though I suppose she’d let you let it slide considering you resolved our conundrum.’

‘Might as well contribute.’ He shrugged. ‘Though I can’t say I understand why you’d want me to have such an item. We’re adversaries.’

‘As of tomorrow, I’d like to think. Consider yourself kindly repaid then.’

‘All I did was give you a jacket because I thought you’d be cold! And you want me to have a magical healing thing?’

‘Yes. Is that a problem?’

‘It’s not the kind of repayment I’d have in mind.’

‘What, then?’

‘I, well . . .’

‘EUREKA!’

Chair clattered as Wendy stood up. She held a piece of paper in her hand that showed a drawing so complex that Pembrooke didn’t bother even analysing the piece.

‘It’s a rather complex glyph,’ Wendy looked at her masterpiece. ‘But I believe it will lead us to a satisfying result.’

‘How will that work? I know very little about . . . electricity.’

‘Well, I’m not going to go into detail,’ Wendy reached for her bag and pulled out a few crystals. They were finely cut and the size of a small stone. They each possessed a lustrous, bright lavender-like colour. ‘But to put it as simply as possible – I’d like you to enchant these crystals with the restoration spell. Then, I am going to enchant it with my glyphs. They’re constructed so that they will trigger my spells as a response to any outside interference – in this case trying to use the item by using magic . . . Both, you and I, should be able to use it by channelling our magic.’

‘And what of the pain reduction?’ Vilivian asked.

‘Yes. Well, that’s a complicated part . . .’

‘That’s the complicated part?’ Pembrooke said in disbelief.

‘. . . I believe I could manage to numb the pain by coursing electricity through the nerves. It won’t completely negate the pain, but it should at least make it bearable. There’s also the minor pain that will come with being electrocuted.’

‘How minor?’

‘Ever been struck by lightning?’

‘No.’

‘It’s like that except it's not as deadly. I don’t know how much elemental energy I should pour into it, so for a test drive I’ll have to “wing it” as they say. Here.’

Wendy handed her over one of the crystals.

‘If you’d be so kind as to infuse it with the spell . . .’

Wendy prepared the notebook as Vilivian looked over the small crystal.

She put it in her palm and covered it with the other. She closed her eyes and focused. Blood veins on her arms started glowing with blue light as she chanted.

‘Mend.’ Her voice echoed. A silent cracking could be heard coming from the crystal. After a few seconds she uncovered the now changed crystal. The lustrous colour was gone. It was dim, carrying a strange gradient of dark green and navy blue making the crystal appear lifeless. The longer Pembrooke stared the more he felt as if the colours moved.

‘Is that it?’ Wendy asked unconvinced.

‘Yes.’ Vilivian handed back the crystal.

‘It doesn’t appear magical at all. Even less so?’

Vilivian shrugged.

‘What you and I consider “magical” may as well be completely different things. Your spells, if you could?’

‘Right! Of course.’

Wendy cleared the table and put the crystal in the middle of it. She placed the drawing she painted on earlier next to it and her fingers traced the lines as if she learned the patterns.

She then painted a glyph above the crystal. A violet circle surrounded it and from the insides of the stone a bright light started fighting off the dark colours brought by Vilivian’s magic.

Wendy visibly struggled with her spells. She raised her other hand and painted another glyph and the lights coming from the stone intensified. It was like a neon party in Wendy’s room right now. The colours reflected from her glasses and the festival of lights made Pembrooke grow more and more wary. He’d glance at Vilivian but he’d find her expression as nothing but stone.

The light show ended abruptly. There was only a simmering sound coming from the crystal and Wendy’s heavy panting. Her hands trembled above the crystals and her face was pale.

‘Is it done?’ Vilivian said almost heartlessly.

‘Done?’ Wendy said weakly. ‘It is. Should be. Wasn’t easy though. I felt as if your magic tried to push me away from changing the crystal to the point I thought it was going to attack me . . .’

‘Of course, it did. It’s magic.’

‘Well, my magic can’t do that! Most of the time . . . Oh, the cultural differences are more and more apparent.’ She then smiled content. ‘Ah, but the experience will make it worth it, even if it’s a dud.’

‘Is it?’

‘One way to find out, right?’ Wendy stood up and reached for her bag and pulled out a large knife. ‘Would you kindly stab yourself with that knife?’ she handed it over to Vilivian.

Pembrooke frowned.

‘Of course,’ Vilivian answered.

Pembrooke realized he was the straight man here.

‘Hold the freaking phone!’ he interrupted before Vilivian had a chance to shove the blade into her stomach. ‘Don’t you see there’s an issue with this!’

Wendy and Vilivian exchanged looks and then both made a silent “ah”.

‘You’re right. I’m sorry, Vilivian.’

‘Don’t worry, it happens to the best of us.’ She started taking off her top. ‘The Bartender wouldn’t be pleased if I bloodied my clothes again.’

‘That’s not what I meant!’ Pembrooke stopped her quickly. ‘The knife! Don’t you think that’s going a little too far?’

‘We need to test, don’t we?’ Vilivian asked.

‘Can’t we test it on animals?’

‘I thought Vilivian was fine with wounds.’ Wendy said. ‘After I watched your fight it almost seemed as if you were having fun . . .’

‘Far from it.’

‘Oh.’ Wendy’s face’s suddenly been overcome with guilt.

‘But there was a time in my youth when I enjoyed pain.’ Vilivian said with a soured expression.’

‘Youth? I thought you were my age!’ Wendy said, surprised.

‘I’m really not.’

‘Then shall we find another test subject?’ Pembrooke asked.

‘No.’ Vilivian shook her head decisively. ‘Dawn will startle us sooner should we begin to look for an animal in the darkness. It’s the fastest way.’

‘Well . . . Could you at least not do it in the stomach?’ Pembrooke asked.

‘Does it matter?’

‘It does to me.’ Pembrooke said sternly and looked her in the eyes. A difficult feat. Vilivian’s glare would turn away most predators. She observed him for a while before she finally conceded.

‘Fine.’

She sat down on the chair and uncovered her thighs.

‘That’s still a little—’

‘You complain too much.’ She said irritatedly and plunged the blade into her leg. Wendy jumped terrified and Pembrooke’s eyes widened in shock.

Vilivian gritted her teeth as she reached as deep as she could with the knife. She then with one swift motion tried to pull it out, but it caught on the skin and she slit it apart.

He could hardly watch her do it to herself, but it was difficult for him to look away. He was simply staggered by the length that woman was willing to go.

If Wendy’s face was pale before, now she could serve as a fairly good lighthouse. She covered her mouth and he suspected she must’ve forced herself to stay put. That girl didn’t appear to be very good with blood or injuries of any kind.

Vilivian groaned in pain as she threw the blade aside and reached for the crystal. She merely put it close to the wound when it lit up.

And then shattered.

Pembrooke was about to jump in order to tend to her injury, but then Vilivian groaned loudly and jumped in place as electricity coursed through her body. The wound itself started healing.

Both Wendy and Pembrooke couldn’t believe their eyes. The flesh knit itself as what blood poured out onto her leg was cleaned and returned back inside. As morbid as the process was, the end result didn’t even leave a scar. Vilivian smiled, satisfied.

‘How are you feeling?’ Wendy was first to break the silence.

‘Good. Marvellous work, Sorceress.’ Vilivian’s lips frown the other way into something resembling a smile.

‘And how was the numbness?’ Wendy had already forgotten all the blood and injuries and returned into the Scholar Mode. She picked up her notepad and started noting the experiences which Vilivian was very happy to share.

‘The jolt may have been a little too strong. I can’t exactly feel most of my body yet, and I’ll need to when I use it mid-combat. My legs recovered faster – my spell must’ve diminished some of that numbness in the process. In general, the initial shock was the most painful, but it was short. I couldn’t feel the mending of my flesh at all.’

‘That’s great. Greater than great. Very great, I’d say. There’s a word for it, isn’t there? Not important. I believe that I can reduce the strength of electricity. The pain from restoration may be more distinguished, but it should allow for more mobility during combat.’

‘Good. How many crystals do you have left?’

‘Three!’ She pulled them out of her bag.

Vilivian proceeded to enchant every single one of them with her Mend spell. Wendy put them evenly on the table and looked them over ravenously.

‘Oh, this is going to be exciting! The possibilities!’

‘One for each of us, correct?’ Vilivian stood up. Her legs still seemed a little numb.

‘Yes. Oh, yes! And do you mind if I take some of your blood for analysing?’

Wendy pointed at the bloodied knife lying on the floor.

‘. . . Help yourself. Shall we come by in the morning to get our crystals then?’

‘You can come back in an hour! No, not an hour. Forty minutes. I’ll be done in forty minutes. Give or take.’

‘Are you certain?’ Vilivian frowned. ‘It seemed as if enchanting that one stone took a lot of strength out of you.’

‘Oh, yes! It did! And I might die if I’m not careful. But I’m just too excited! It’s the risk I’m willing to take. Consider it a friend’s favour.’

Wendy grinned at Vilivian and the demoness returned the warm smile.

‘Then . . . I appreciate your sacrifice.’

‘Me too. For whatever it’s worth.’ Pembrooke added.

‘Don’t mention it.’ Wendy laughed cheerfully and then turned serious. ‘Now, shoo. I have glyphs to do, magic to cast. I need to focus.’

‘Very well,’ Vilivian nodded and turned to Pembrooke. ‘Shall we take a walk then?’

From her expression, Pembrooke deduced she didn’t expect anything else but an affirmative answer.

He shrugged and followed her out of the room, leaving Wendy to her own cackling and devices.

A strange smoke moved away from the window.

***

Crossroads night was deep and old by now. For Pembrooke, nights like these were nostalgic, and not always in the positive sense of that word. Too often, he’d walk down the dark streets in the secret hours and felt the night stretching away. Unlike day, it remained the same. The menace lurking in the velvet shadows may have changed its talons, but it would never change its nature.

Pembrooke wondered which one was Vilivian as he followed her, hypnotized by the tiny sway of her red braid. Was she the fiend lurking in the shadows or was she the mere visitor to the aeon-old world of darkness?

Their steps were the only sound echoing among the alleys of Crossroads. “A walk” she called it, but the way she led told him there was a destination.

He decided to break the half-silence by asking a question.

‘Why are you giving me that stone?’

‘To repay your kindness.’ She answered without stopping.

‘And what’s the real reason? What's the ploy?’

‘Ploy?’ She stopped and turned around.

‘What’s use do I have for a stone if I don’t possess any magic. I wasn’t born in Wendy's world so I can’t use her magic to activate it nor was I born with the same kind of magic you do, not to mention I’m a human which also complicates things, doesn’t it?’

Vilivian smirked.

‘You’re very attentive.’ She complimented him.

‘Not like I had a choice but to listen to you.’

‘You always had a choice. You chose to stay and listen instead of dozing off like any ordinary dullard would I’d wager.’

‘You’re quite the flatterer. Now, answer my question.’

Her smirk turned into a genuine smile. As if she appreciated the fact that he didn’t sway from his pursuit of an answer.

‘Magic isn’t required to use the enchanted items, at least in my world. As I’ve said, humans are trained to bend magic to their will. And that includes the objects as well.’

‘So, I’d just have to think very hard about wanting to have that rock heal me?’

‘Most likely. Humans of my world may have difficulties, but you haven’t evolved the same way they did. It stands to reason you wouldn’t have much issue if any.’

‘That does make sense. Though, If I hadn't seen you stab yourself in the leg I probably would’ve remained sceptical.’

‘Well, I’m glad that showing did manage to also alleviate your doubts. Or do you have something else to complain about which, I found, you very much enjoy doing?’

That last quip Vilivian spoke out in a somewhat soured voice even though she persisted through with her smile.

There was some funny retort he could muster up. But he spent enough time with Vilivian by now to know she’s the kind of person that’s fully capable of stabbing themselves with a knife and thus needs to be watched. Preferably from a safe distance.

‘Sorry . . . Where’re we going?’ he uttered.

‘The beach.’ Vilivian answered and turned around.

‘The beach? But that’s where the . . .’

Axelion stood as he were; dormant, watching the horizon. Pembrooke watched Vilivian approach it. The woman walked around it, curious, studying its every aspect.

‘A giant, statue-like machine.’ Vilivian said in awe. ‘Trickster told me. It belongs to you. How do you control it?’

She’s literally just checking out my secret weapon, and I’m not in the slightest concerned with that, he thought.

Vilivian appeared truly enchanted by the old technology. She looked like a giddy schoolgirl at her party. He couldn’t find her less charming if he wanted to, though she certainly made that difficult at times.

She walked around it, studying it, but not touching; drilling it into her memory. Pembrooke stood a little further away.

‘It’s named Axelion. I control it from the inside. It’s a rather complex piece of technology that requires unique training to pilot.’

‘So wondrous, how far has humankind gone with technology. I can scarcely imagine the way wars changed with these on the battlefields. Not that I’d experienced any proper prior to this, mind you. But what I’ve learned simply doesn’t compare to something like this.’

‘I don’t believe the ways have changed very much through the times.’ He crossed his arms. ‘Merely the means.’

His expression soured. He didn’t really like talking about anything regarding his homeland and when it came to warfare it was pretty much that.

He felt a tiny pebble hitting his shoulder. He looked to the side, but nothing was there.

‘I remember the first time I faced crossbowmen. Such speed for such simplicity. I came very close to dying that day and without even transforming. Few inches to the side and I would’ve met my final death by a silver bolt to my heart.’

‘Crossbowmen?’ Pembrooke scoffed condescendingly. ‘Wait until you learn about guns.’

‘Gonnes?’ she turned around.

‘Guns. You’ll see tomorrow.’

She smirked slightly and got back to observing Axelion’s only eye. Pembrooke was once again struck by a tiny pebble. He looked around a little more, but nothing caught his eye.

Distracted, he’s spontaneously decided to muster some courage.

‘Would you like to eat dinner tonight?’ His voice cracked.

‘I’d like to eat dinner every night.’ Vilivian answered.

‘Right, er . . . Same.’

His stomach turned from the embarrassment that quickly turned into irritation once he was attacked with a pebble again.

Angered, he moved towards the direction the pebble came from, but was stopped by Vilivian’s question.

‘Are you going to use it?’

Expression of her voice was devoid of any tone or emotion. He looked at her back, slightly perplexed, but he answered honestly.

‘No, I don’t think I will.’

‘Why?’ she asked immediately.

‘Well,’ he smiled confidently. ‘Since you’re giving me a crutch in the shape of the healing item I believe using Axelion in tomorrow’s fight would be a little too much. Besides, I didn’t use it in my first fight, so . . .’

‘I on the other hand believe that you should use it.’ she turned around and glared at him. ‘Nobody said it’s going to get easier.’

‘Maybe,’ he said, irritated. He’s been strung along by that woman until now, but telling him how to do his job was a line he wouldn’t let her cross. ‘But that’s not up for you to decide.’

‘No, it isn’t.’ she started approaching him and her each step made him more inclined to reach for his sidearm. ‘But as a soldier you should take all options into consideration.’

‘I’m not a soldier.’ He scowled.

‘You were trained as one, though, weren’t you?’

‘I’m not one.’

‘Then, what are you, Male?’ she stopped a few inches short of his face. ‘You’re no Soldier. You’re no Warrior, either. What are you?’ she repeated.

‘Who said I have to be anything? For all I care I just might remain strider forever.’

‘You feign ignorance, but your blood says otherwise. It reeks of hesitation despite your otherwise insurmountable confidence.’

‘How do you even—’

He was hit with another pebble. At this point, Pembrooke snapped.

‘That’s it!’ he shouted out and pulled out his sidearm. Vilivian took a step back. ‘Who the hell is chucking those freaking rocks at me?!’

Suddenly, a pale spectre appeared in front of them.

‘It’s me.’

‘A GHOST!’

A gunshot resounded throughout the town.

Vilivian was in pain, crouching on the ground and holding her ears. Pembrooke watched as the bullet he fired into the spectre stopped at his chest and unceremoniously fell to the ground.

‘Oh. Ow.’ The spectre’s expression was seething with sarcasm.

‘Huh.’ Pembrooke sheathed his weapon, slightly surprised. ‘Frankly, I thought it’d go through you.’

‘Depends on my mood, really.’

‘Funny that.’

‘Innit?’

‘. . . What . . . was . . . that?’

Vilivian asked meekly as she slowly stood up, still agonized.

‘That, Viliv, was a gun. A main lead in our performance tomorrowe’ Pembrooke patted his sidearm cockishly.

‘Ah, the two of you are contestants in tomorrow’s second round! Delighted to make your acquaintances. My name is Armel.’ he introduced himself cheerfully.

The spectre put one arm behind him and bowed his head slightly. His pale everything could hardly be seen through the pale everything else. Armel was a ghost quite literally through and through.

‘I’m Pembrooke.’

‘Vilivian of Lilith.’ She returned the bow. ‘You’re of regal descent, I take it?’

Armel let out a short laugh.

‘It’s the crown, isn’t it?’ he pointed at his head. ‘I was a prince once, indeed.’

‘Once?’

‘Well, I am dead now, aren’t I?’

‘Rather content for a dead man, aren’t you?’ Pembrooke scoffed. ‘Have you been here the whole time?’

‘Throughout your conversation and longer. Including Pembrooke’s pitiful attempts at romance.’

‘Bog off. Why the hell were you throwing rocks at me?’

Armel turned away slightly abashed.

‘. . . Because I’m jealous of happy couples that come here.’

‘Hypocrite!’

‘I beg to differ! Unlike you, my woes go beyond awful pick-up lines!’

‘What? Was the soup too salty, Your Highness?’ Pembrooke said mockingly. ‘Or did one of your concubines run away?’

‘Don’t call me that, please.’ Armel frowned.

‘How’d you die, Spectre,’ Vilivian asked. ‘If you don’t mind my asking.’

‘Not at all.’ He said and turned around. He pointed at his back.

‘Goodness,’ she said. ‘Those wounds . . .’

‘Bullet wounds.’ Pembrooke clarified. ‘There’s one . . . five . . .’

‘Seventeen.’ She counted.

‘Someone must’ve really wanted you dead, eh?’

‘I’m quite tenacious, too.’ Armel turned back.

‘So, what’s the woman problem you're having, Your Highness?’ Pembrooke smirked.

The dead prince gave him a cold glare.

‘It’s certainly far more elaborate than your attempts at “romance”, lad.’

‘You made attempts?’ Vilivian looked at Pembrooke.

‘That’s . . .’

‘Well, an “attempt”. Singular. I wager he barely mustered up the courage to ask—’

‘Vilivian, shouldn’t we go to Wendy’s?’ Pembrooke interrupted as his cheeks flushed.

‘Have forty minutes passed already?’

‘Yes!’ he said desperately. ‘We wouldn’t want to keep her waiting, would we?’

‘No . . . No, we wouldn’t.’ Vilivian gave them both a very calculated look.

‘Now, then, let’s go and . . .’

‘Spectre, how would you like to accompany us for a while?’

‘Why?!’ Pembrooke exclaimed.

‘I don’t mind,’ Armel said, slightly amused by Pembrooke’s reaction. ‘Is there anything specific you’d like of me?’

‘Yes, I’d like to speak to you later. For now, we ought to make our way back to the Sorceress.’

‘Oh, joyous night.’ Armel laughed. ‘We can talk on the way there.’

‘How about we don’t?’ Pembrooke grumbled.

***

Vilivian listened to the men’s bickering on the way back to the inn. Armel and Pembrooke made a surprisingly animated duo despite one being an aloof loner and the other being, well, dead.

The once a prince would constantly try to bring up Pembrooke’s folly and give him wayward advice regarding romance, whilst Pembroke tried to get the prince to open up about his own trouble.

She wasn’t exactly listening to them. She was rather troubled by the fact that she couldn’t sense the Spectre, but he made an appearance of a decent sort despite being a prince, but that’s what they’re really good at, aren’t they? Appearing.

When they arrived at Wendy’s door, Vilivian was about to knock but she stopped herself. She sensed two people inside. One was obviously Wendy; she’s gotten accustomed to her smell. But the other one . . . It was tainted.

‘Vilivian?’

‘Is something wrong?’

‘We’re about to see.’ She answered them and knocked on the door. Wendy’s voice answered from the inside.

‘Come in.’

Vilivian entered and the boys followed behind her.

Inside, Wendy was sitting by the desk, a bottle of grape wine was sitting next to her and the glass. Standing in the middle of the room, as if waiting for an audience, was Forte.

Red-skinned gentleman in a fine white dress shirt and black pants almost danced as he noticed Vilivian coming in.

‘Miss Vilivian!’ Forte applauded. His heterochromatic eyes showed youthful enthusiasm and his wide smile could charm almost anyone.

And yet, when Vilivian glanced at Wendy, she could easily notice Sorceress’ exhaustion.

‘Wordsmith,’ she said dryly. ‘I did not expect to find you here.’

‘Quite the happenstance I must say, wouldn’t you, Miss Williams? I was visiting another friend at the inn when I happened to overhear a voice of struggle here. I knocked and when there was no answer I entered fearing some harm would’ve come to Miss Williams!’

‘Struggle?’

Wendy looked down in shame. Her face was pale and her legs and hands were trembling.

‘I used too much magic and I couldn’t move my body.’ She confessed. ‘I fell off the chair and tried to crawl onto the bed, but . . .’

‘Thankfully, I was here otherwise you might’ve found her unconscious on the floor.’

‘Aren’t you the hero?’ said Pembrooke wryly.

Forte looked at him and then at Armel and smiled.

‘Miss Vilivian! Are these per chance friends of yours? I’m delighted to see you’ve managed to form relationships that go beyond the prey-hunter dynamic.’ He took off his hat and bowed. ‘Forte is my name; I’m a researcher, traveller and a wordsmith, as Miss Vilivian put it. Delighted to make your acquaintance.’

‘Name’s Pembrooke. Pleasure’s all mine.’

Armel stayed silent.

‘I’m more than a demon, Wordsmith, I’ll have you know.’ Said Vilivian.

‘You make a good case, that much I’ll admit. Your showing on the colosseum, however, left a lot to ponder still. Just what part of you is speaking right now?’

‘Both.’

‘And your eyes did not ease up one bit. Your guard is still up and those with keen eyes can tell that there’s something . . . savage about you.’

‘You won’t be shocked if I kill you right here and now, then?’ she allowed herself a slight smirk.

‘Vilivian . . .!’ Wendy exclaimed, shocked.

‘You wouldn’t, would you?’ said Armel, uncertainly.

Pembrooke just laughed.

‘Spare me not death, but the empty threats. I fully know you wouldn’t kill an innocent man.’

‘Innocent?’ Pembrooke interjected before Vilivian could answer. ‘In Crossroads? We ought to lock you up based solely on rarity value alone.’

‘What do you want, Wordsmith?’ Vilivian asked. ‘Tell me, before you give me an actual reason to spite you.’

‘After I helped Miss Williams sit up and treated her to some of the wine I had on hand,’ he pointed at the bottle lying on the table. Wendy turned away in disgust from it.

‘You just happened to have a bottle of wine on your person?’

Forte made a very offended expression.

‘There's a great deal of people who know me and rely on me. The bottle of the finest pinot noir was a gift from one such person.’

‘I understand that this bottle is one of a kind, then?’

‘As priceless as it is difficult to make,’ said Armel. ‘Few vineyards can cultivate the grapes for it, and fewer are capable of developing the complex taste the pinot noir is highly regarded for.’

‘A fellow connoisseur! I don’t believe we’ve met! May I have your name?’ Forte asked, grinning.

‘Names are for friends.’ Armel said coldly.

Vilivian could barely notice Forte’s lip twitching.

‘Dead men tell no tales, indeed. In any case, Miss Williams informed me of the crystal she’s been enchanting and their restorative capabilities. I, of course, found great interest in them as a fellow researcher.’

‘You want one, don’t you?’

‘You owe me, after all.’

‘Indeed. Wendy, are you able to . . .?’

‘No,’ she shook her head. ‘Those three are my last! I could order them, but . . .’

‘I reckon you want it today?’

‘My sister is taking part in the semi-final, Miss Vilivian.’

Vilivian sighed.

‘Considering your sister’s skill, I doubt she’ll have any difficulties with the Speedster, but fine. Take it, it’s yours.’ She nodded at the table.

Everyone, including Forte, looked at her surprised.

‘Are you sure, Vilivian?’ Wendy asked.

‘What the hell?’ Pembrooke bolted forward angrily and stood between her and Forte. ‘You don’t owe that pusher anything!’

‘I do, actually.’ She ignored Pembrooke’s glare. ‘But that equals my debt being repaid.’ She said urgently.

‘I’m not one to slander my own words, but I must say I expected more resistance from you. Glad to see you still manage to carry yourself with some sense of rationality.’

‘Aren’t you giving it up too easily?’ Pembrooke argued.

‘I’d rather not remain in his debt any longer. I’d rather give up a healing item now than face some impossible demand later. Besides, he’ll likely ask his sister to steal it away should I withhold it.’

‘Do go on, I love eavesdropping!’ Forte said, indignant.

‘Shut up! You’re the most at fault here!’ Pembrooke snapped at him.

‘Ah, Mr Pembrooke, your words wound my very soul.’

‘Colour me surprised, I didn’t know you had it in you.’

‘Oof, nothing like a satirical quip from a person who covets his lacking intelligence through sarcasm!’

Pembrooke glared daggers at him before turning back to Vilivian.

‘It’ll be hardly fair if I have means to heal myself and you don’t, you know?’

Vilivian raised her eyebrow.

‘There is some integrity to you after all.’

‘What is that supposed to mean?’

‘I could always give up my crystal . . .’ Wendy proposed, but both Vilivian and Pembrooke rejected that idea immediately.

‘Out of question.’

‘HELL NO!’

‘Sorry.’ Wendy said meekly.

‘Both you and the Sorceress need the stones more than I do. I’ll survive.’

‘You know,’ Pembrooke hissed. ‘I’ve a feeling you’ve been underestimating me this whole time. Ever since we talked at the beach . . . No, ever since you first offered me the crystal.’

‘I never underestimated you.’

‘And yet I have a feeling you think you’re stronger than me.’

‘Of that, I am guilty. I am stronger than you. By a lot.’

Silence befell the room. Vilivian did not elaborate as this was no boast nor a threat. Simply a statement. Forte chuckled in the background as Pembrooke grimaced. Armel and Wendy watched the tension rise.

‘To be completely honest, I don’t care much how you intend to resolve this conundrum though I’m convinced the result will be at least somewhat comical.’ Said Forte and grabbed one of the crystals from the table. ‘That said, I did not expect you to have a playful side. My sister painted you as someone who doesn’t play with their food.’ He glanced at Pembrooke.

‘Ah, you mean the scuffle the Blackblood and I participated in when we met?’ Vilivian shrugged. ‘I admit, the way people of Crossroads belittle their mortality is astounding.’

‘You’ve enjoyed it.’

‘As much as you could enjoy swatting flies.’

‘Which for you are most encounters.’ He shook his head and turned to Wendy. ‘My thanks for your hard work, Miss Williams. Please, consider the wine a gift for your efforts.’

Wendy gave the bottle of wine a glance of disdain.

‘Thank you . . .’

‘Miss Vilivian. Gentlemen.’ He bowed. ‘So long.’

Forte whistled his way out of the room, juggling the crystal in his hand. Wendy and Armel followed him out with their gazes, whilst Pembrooke stared at the floor with his arms crossed. Vilivian simply stared forward. She hoped that the crystal would prove useful to Forte’s sister. Meeting her in the final would be the only positive consequence of this ordeal.

‘Of all the bloody brands,’ Wendy broke the silence by cursing the bottle. ‘He had to pick that one.’

‘Will you be getting rid of it?’ Armel asked.

‘It is rather expensive, isn’t it? Eh, maybe I’ll use it for potions or give it to Saki.’ She sighed and picked up the remaining crystals from the table. She handed one to Pembrooke.

‘This one’s yours . . .’

He looked over the dimmed stone and then asked Vilivian.

‘Why are you so adamant on giving it to me?’

‘What answer are you expecting?’

‘A truthful one.’

‘I don’t have one like that.’

‘You don’t?’

She shook her head.

‘I’m positive that I’m not sure that I have an answer that will satisfy your query.’

He looked at her confused. She remained stoic, as always. He sighed resigned and hid the crystal in his pocket.

‘I need a drink.’

And then he left. They heard him walking down the hallway.

‘. . . This one’s for you, Viliv.’ Wendy handed over her crystal.

‘Your. Not mine.’ Vilivian said.

‘You’ll need it for tomorrow’s fight, won’t you?’ Wendy smiled.

‘But your research . . .’

‘Won’t go anywhere. It’s not like we can’t make more once I get more crystals, right?’

‘Yes, but it’s rightfully yours. You don’t have to compensate me for my debts.’

‘Then, I’m giving it to you as a gift. From a friend.’ She smiled.

Vilivian looked at Wendy’s tired expression then at the crystal and returned the smile.

‘Thank you, Wendy.’

The Sorceress giggled happily. ‘You’re welcome.’

‘This may not be my place to ask, Vilivian,’ Armel started carefully. ‘But what exactly do you make of Pembrooke?’

‘Mediocrity.’ She answered bluntly.

‘You’re harsh . . .’ said Wendy.

‘I’m generous.’

‘He wouldn’t take kindly to that comment judging by his reaction to what you said earlier.’ Armel pointed out. He may have bickered with Pembrooke, but he couldn’t help but express worry over the soldier's reaction.

‘It’s a fact. He’s the one who’s overcomplicating this.’

‘He may be overcomplicating because he doesn’t like the truth.’

‘Yes. But nothing has to stay true forever.’

‘If you say so . . . By the way, didn’t you want something from me?’

‘Hm? Ah, yes.’ She stretched. ‘I do fancy a drink, however. Mind joining me in the Fox Den, Spectre?’

‘Well, I can technically drink . . . I don’t mind.’

‘And you, Wendy? We’d love to have you.’

‘I am tired, but . . . Well, I can have a cup or two.’

‘Let’s go then.’

***

They would catch up to Pembrooke rather quickly and despite the boy’s grumblings he didn’t mind accompanying him to the Fox Den with some conversation, though he didn’t exchange a word with Vilivian. On the way they discovered that all but Pembrooke had a mutual acquaintance in Aude – a vixen friend of Armel.

Fox Den in the middle of the night was like any other bar in the multiverse. It was like this almost everywhere.

Night time bars were solemn, calm and slow – perfect for the people who want to just be without interruption. It was too easy to get into an argument or a brawl earlier in the day, but now there were few people – all of them brooding or drinking wistfully with an exception of that one man who ate the ceiling once and now everyone’s too scared to get rid of him.

The group sat at the counter and Saki counted on her fingers.

‘Alright, to get the orders right. That's a pint of lager for Pembrooke, glass of rum for Armel . . .’

‘Make it double.’

‘I’ll just charge you a whole bottle.’

‘Aye, fair enough.’

‘. . . hot chocolate for Wendy . . .’

‘Oh! With extra whipped cream and marshmallows, please!’ Wendy asked excitedly.

‘. . . and a glass of pinot noir for Vilivian.’

‘Please.’

‘You know, I could give you that bottle . . .’ Wendy said.

‘I refuse to acknowledge any gift coming from that man.’ Said Vilivian, soured.

‘So, you are upset.’ Pembrooke gave half a mocking smile.

‘Yes. That’s part of the reason I’m drinking now.’

The drinks were put in front of them. They looked at their drinks. They drank their drinks.

‘. . . You know what gets me?’ Wendy started, after a while. ‘The fact that the first thing he did after helping me up was putting down that bottle, as if it were a boon of some deity and then had the audacity to ask me about the crystals. Researcher. Pah!’ she sipped her chocolate. The whipped cream formed a moustache on her mouth.

‘. . . What gets me,’ said Armel. ‘Is how pretentious he was the whole time.’

‘The way he speaks is also annoying.’ Added Pembrooke.

Everyone nodded. They drank their drinks.

‘So, Princeboy,’ said Pembrooke. ‘Who’s the gal?’

‘Subtle as a brick.’ Armel sighed. ‘You might know her . . .’

‘It’s probably Aude.’ Said Saki.

‘It’s likely Aude.’ Wendy added.

‘Must be the Vixen.’ Vilivian settled.

Armel groaned as Pembrooke chuckled happily.

‘There’s the subtlety you wanted so much. I take it you’re breaking up?’

‘We’re hardly a couple.’ Armel admitted. ‘“Partners” is more like . . . It’s complex. Frankly, I’m shocked it took me this long to realize the feelings I have for her . . .’

They drank their drinks. Saki knew her customers better than anyone so she silently refilled them, including Wendy’s hot chocolate and the whipped cream.

‘I’d worry about the health of any relationship involving Aude. And I mean the literal, physical health.’

‘He isn’t really risking much considering he’s dead.’ Said Vilivian.

‘Well, each to their own, I suppose . . .’ Wendy whistled.

‘You people are a little unfair. Listen, I know that Aude may be . . .’

‘Unnecessarily violent?’ Saki observed.

‘A sociopath?’ Wendy deduced.

‘Mad.’ Vilivian stated.

‘All of the above?’ Pembrooke finished.

‘You’re . . .’ Armel sighed loudly. ‘All correct.’

They drank their drinks. Armel turned to Wendy.

‘So, Wendy. Let’s say you’re a woman.’

Pembrooke’s beer stopped midway to his lips. Saki almost dropped a glass she was cleaning.

Wendy looked at him, uncertain.

‘. . . I am a woman, Armel, but fine. It shouldn’t be too hard.’

‘Another woman. And someone told you that they loved you. How would you react?’

‘Before or after they questioned my sex?’

‘I was setting up a scenario. You know what I mean!’

‘That depends. Have they just blurted it out? Have I known them for a long time? I lack some context. Why? Are you scared things won’t proceed naturally?’

‘I am, since we’ve had an argument. When we . . . if we manage to make up, I'd like to push things forward, but I’m not sure how to consider Aude’s . . . unpredictability.’

‘It will certainly take time.’

‘And I’ve nothing but that, but we’ve been practically joined at the hip ever since we met!’

‘In every sense except literal, I’d wager.’ Pembrooke snorted.

‘I would never think of her that way! I’d look to her for support and guidance, and . . .’

‘And what support and guidance did you find in the sway of her tail?’ Vilivian asked.

‘That’s not what I— I wouldn’t—’ Armel’s ghastly visage was mottled with red. ‘What about you, Vilivian? What would you do if someone were to profess their passion for you?’

‘Most men that did tried to deceive me. The one man whose feelings were genuine hesitated in the most important moment and watched his companions be slaughtered by my hand before I killed him as well.’

They listened in shocked curiosity.

‘Love is ethereal.’ She drank her wine. ‘But don’t take my thoughts at face-value. Demons like me can’t feel love beyond familial camaraderie.’

‘You can’t?’ Wendy asked. ‘Then how are you . . .’

‘Do you really want to know?’

‘. . . Yes.’ she answered, uncertainly.

‘No. You don’t. This once, I’ll spare you the burden of knowledge.’

‘Burden of knowledge . . . Funny. I came here seeking exactly that. Means to save my home and at the same time I was running away from it. I’m scared that one day I might find out that there's no such means.’

They looked at their drinks. They drank their drinks. Armel immediately downed the glass of rum and refilled it from the bottle.

‘The last memory I have of home is of it being in a civil war.’ The ghost stared at his drink wistfully. ‘How many years have passed since it ended . . .? What has become of that nation, I wonder sometimes . . .’

‘My home’s a stone cave deep underground I spent a millennium in.’ Vilivian said. ‘You certainly have much more freedom of guessing.’

‘Yeah. Well, we most likely have lost and once the new order established itself they moved on to the things proper nations do, like preparing to wage another war.’ He scoffed. ‘What of you, Pembrooke? What’s your home like?’

‘Quiet.’ He answered. ‘Content. Nothing ever happens aside from vandalism and occasional mariticide.’

‘Mariticide?’

Pembrooke laughed gravely. ‘It’s a cheaper alternative to a divorce.’

‘Sounds almost dystopian.’ Wendy commented.

‘And yet it isn’t. Everything works properly. Attend education. Attend mandatory military service. Finish education. Serve the nation. Sometimes fight for the nation. It’s a cycle that works. I hate it, but it works. Not everyone’s a farmer, but everyone’s a soldier.’

‘So, you say.’ Vilivian said. ‘Yet, you don’t behave like one.’

‘Oh? And how would a soldier behave then, Lady Vilivian? Enlighten us, please!’ Pembrooke raved.

‘Thorough, unburdened by morality but proud to serve..’

‘Proud to serve, she says . . .! Proud of fucking what? Do you want to know what being a soldier is really like?!’

The chair cluttered as Pembrooke stood back up and drunkenly stumbled towards Vilivian and glared at her. She looked back at him

‘Do tell.’

‘Ever been on a farm outside the town? They’ve got animals there – cows, to be specific. And you know how it is, sometimes a cow will take a steaming pile of shit in the middle of the field and do you know who has to clean it up? Not the owner, not even the bloody farmhands, but disposable schmucks trained and dedicated to flip the dung over the fence. That’s what being a soldier is like. What use is my pride for?’

‘You don’t need to be proud of the flag you serve, Pembrooke.’ Armel said. ‘Be proud of the strength you can achieve by yourself – of the obstacles you can overcome . . .’

‘Shut it. I received the harshest training my nation can offer. I am one of the most skilled to pass the boot camp. And I still know that pretending to be a “good soldier” is nothing short of lying to myself.’

‘Like you are right now?’ Vilivian asked. ‘Your insecurities regarding your abilities are apparent.’

‘What do you know? Why do you care? Was that thing,’ he pulled out a crystal and showed it to them. ‘Supposed to be a pity gift from you to me?’

‘You’ll die without it.’

‘Is that a threat?’

‘Prediction, Male. You may have your training, but without the tools that don’t at least match up to my abilities you remain just a human. The crystal will spare you a single mistake.’

‘For all of that talk of overconfidence you’re awfully full of it, aren’t you?’

‘I have experience to back it up. Do you?’

‘I am in a semi-final, am I not?’

‘And what is that supposed to indicate?’

‘. . . That “just a human” is going to emerge victorious against you tomorrow.’ He said quietly.

Pembrooke scowled and left the Fox Den. Wendy and Armel, who had no idea how to include themselves in that argument, exchanged looks. The prince especially bearing a very unsatisfied grimace.

‘Vilivian,’ he started. ‘I don’t think there is anything in particular you wanted with me.’

‘You had a strangely friendly dynamic with him back on the beach,’ she confessed. ‘I was curious to see how it would develop.’

‘I tend to get along with other people.’ He said. ‘But much less so when they treat me as an unaware part of an experiment.’

‘I’m sorry.’

He shook his head, resigned.

‘You’re not the most socially adept person, are you?’

‘No,’ she gave a half-smile.

‘Who am I to judge? I can hardly make up my mind about a girl I love. Oh, well.’ He stood up. ‘No hard feelings so long as you don’t do it again. I take it you agitated Pembrooke in order to make him bring out his best in your fight?’

‘I simply spoke the truth. He’s the one who’s incapable of facing it.’

‘Sure.’ He smiled smugly. ‘Well, I’ll be taking my leave. Good luck in your fight.’

‘Thank you.’

‘See you around, Wendy.’

‘Good bye, Armel.’ She smiled back and after he left she turned towards Vilivian. ‘I should probably get back too, Vilivian. It’s been . . . a very long night.’

Vilivian smiled warmly at the sorceress. ‘It most certainly has, Wendy. Your work will not go underappreciated.’

‘No, please, don’t mention it. As much as I want to see my work be put in practice I hope none of you come to any grave harm.’

‘Will you come to watch?’

‘Of course!’ she said happily. ‘After spending time with both you and Pembrooke I’d be a fool not to root for either of you. Make sure you give it your best, alright?’

‘Naturally. Thank you, Wendy.’

Wendy smiled, bowed and left.

Vilivian was left alone with her drink and Saki. Their attention was suddenly brought to the very familiar jingle of bells coming from the stairs leading up to the VIP area of the Fox Den.

‘Wendy, Armel, Pembrooke . . .’ Chifu approached them and sat down next to Vilivian. ‘You keep making friends, Viliv, but you won’t call me by my given name. What gives, she pouted.’

‘Apologies, Trickster,’ Vilivian turned to her drink. ‘I’ll make sure to compensate you eventually.’

‘I didn’t expect you to be awake at this hour, Chifu.’ Said Saki.

‘Oh, I woke up with a hangover so I thought I’d get some medicine from my bestie!’

‘I’d like to get some sleep sometimes too, you know?’

‘I know.’

Saki sighed.

‘The usual, then?’ She approached the tap. ‘And you Viliv? A refill?’

‘If you’d be so kind, Saki. Thank you.’

‘Anytime.’ Saki smiled smugly and looked at Chifu who pouted at them both.

‘That is just rude is what that is!’

Saki put the drinks in front of them. In one swing Chifu downed half her pint while Vilivian gently sipped her wine.

‘Ah. So, Viliv. Mind enlightening us what was the purpose of this whole charade you put up with Pembrooke?’

Vilivian gave her a single glance, but nothing beyond that.

‘You know, at first I thought there was some infatuation on your part. A handsome man through a simple act of kindness enkindles the cold, cold heart of a demon . . .’

‘I’d sooner lay with a woman.’ Vilivian said emotionlessly.

‘. . . Then you take him to Wendy’s. “Bold”, I thought to myself back then, but you started talking about magical rocks and I kind of lost interest. But then you kept . . . pushing him. Trying to bring out a reaction – not that difficult, mind you - I just didn’t paint you as someone who would willingly spark a conflict. So, truthfully speaking, Viliv – why did you anger him?’

‘For fun.’ Vilivian drank her wine.

Chifu and Saki looked at her surprised.

‘Oh. My. Me.’ Chifu said. ‘I’ll tear up. Our little demon’s all grown up now!’

‘You did inspire me, Trickster.’

‘You hear that, Saki?’

‘Let’s hope she won’t take up your drinking habits.’ Saki mumbled and left for the kitchen.

‘The first time I encountered that Male I didn’t know who he was. Aside from the random act of altruism and the stench of alcohol I could sense his self-doubt and diffidence. I took him as just another average human of the Crossroads. Plenty of people like him in this place. The second time, I knew that he was my opponent. And I was . . . intrigued. How could someone so mediocre pass on to the next round? I was told he’s a soldier, of course, but his adversary was an immortal, which means that the technology and skills he boasted were, to some extent, truthful. Led by curiosity, I offered him the healing crystal expecting him to either accept it– as a soldier should use every tool, or reject it due to his pride as a warrior. He took it, but treated it as an offering of pity from me.’

‘And what’s the conclusion you draw from this?’

‘That his first victory weakened him. He’s not used to feeling empowered, and any slight or doubt made towards his ability invokes anger within him because deep down he believes it. He’s lying to himself.’

‘Sounds about right.’ Chifu drank.

‘You knew?’

‘Plenty of people doubt themselves. Plenty of people get on a success high. Pembrooke is, well, just an average guy with pretty good skills. Your expectations of him may simply be too high.’

‘They may be. But I did provoke him deliberately. I want him to fight to his fullest strength tomorrow.’

‘Why is that?’ Chifu asked. ‘You realize that him not holding anything back may result in your loss?’

‘I do, but I can’t help it. I want to have fun.’

Chifu raised her eyebrows. Vilivian smiled ravenously.

‘You were right. Emulating civilized society will be . . . boring. I realized that as I sat down with Wendy and the Spectre. I could pretend to be a human, hide away my demonic nature and abilities, but they didn’t pretend to be someone they aren’t. Wendy openly experiments in her own room at the inn and even rented the room below her just to be safe. She’s willing to knock on Death's door in order to pursue her scientific research . . . and the Spectre is probably the only person capable of out drinking you. How long will I last, pretending to be something I’m not?’ She giggled. ‘Not to mention . . . when I fought Volley I realized that I really like a good fight.’

‘. . . Careful, Viliv. Your Matriarch is showing.’ Chifu said.

‘I’m glad. I don’t want people to mistake me for a simple human.’

‘Good show tomorrow, then?’

‘If that Male manages to live up to his potential, yes. Definitely.’

‘Will he?’

‘One way or another, Trickster, I will have my fun. And you will have yours.’

Vilivian smiled mischievously.

‘Well then,’ Chifu raised her glass. ‘To good fun.’

***

Crowds have gathered at the Colosseum shoving in the seemingly unending lines. The semi-finals attracted many more spectators than the first rounds despite it being seemingly the hottest day of the month.

Pembrooke was sweltering in his black and white modular slim suit awaiting his turn in Colosseum by the bathrooms in Fighters’ Area. It provided little durability, but the manoeuvrability provided by the attached air-pack in the back was too valuable to pass on.

He had second thoughts on leaving Axelion behind, however. He was rather drunk when he declared himself self-sufficient. Still, he believed he had something to prove – and that was that he was a little more than just a pilot of a giant fighting robot.

He looked over the equipment. Pembrooke had his knife sharpened at the shop and he checked his handgun twice. Other than that, he only had the healing crystal. He considered throwing it away in fit of rage last night, but some notion deep in his mind prevented him from doing so. Common sense, most likely.

He felt really bad about shouting at Vilivian like that, but it’s not like she wasn’t at fault either. Her perception of some things was very old-fashioned. She needed to be enlightened about some things and . . .

He shook his head and took a deep breath. No point. It’s now or never in a few minutes. All he could do was to prepare himself mentally.

Chifu smiled content as the second semi-final was a few minutes away. She watched over the Colosseum from her balcony, alone.

She got rather excited yesterday night and that excitement persisted through to the current moment, as rare as it happens. Vilivian’s little epiphany might just be the spice this tournament needs.

‘Humph.’

She heard and turned her head towards the sound. Volley was climbing the wall of her balcony. He had a bag tied around his neck and in his hands, he was holding a folding chair and Vilivian’s keepsake.

‘G’day, Miss God Eater. Today’s a scorcher, innit?’

‘Why are you here?’

‘Duh, to watch the fight. Miss Viliv asked to watch over her keepsake here, see?’ he showed the sheathed Excalibur. He then unfolded the chair and put it next to Chifu’s throne.

‘You’re joking.’

‘‘Course not. Here,’ he reached in the bag and pulled out a cold can of beer. ‘My Auntie said to give this to you.’

Chifu took the beer.

‘I’ll allow it. What are these?’ she pointed at the box Volley opened.

‘Animal crackers.’

‘. . . Can I have some?’

‘Fine. But the elephant-shaped ones are mine.’

‘Is there a fox one?’

‘Welcome back, Crossroads!’

X’s voice exploded throughout the arena. The filled stands cheered in excitement as the screens showed her floating above the colosseum.

‘Guys, gals and pals, it is nigh time for us to settle for the second finalist of the Crossroads Tournament! Both fighters gave us a grand showing yesterday, but who will manage to emerge victorious?! Please, welcome – Vilivian of Lilith!’

Jeers mixed in with the ovations. Obnoxiously energetic music accompanied Vilivian as she exited onto the arena as calm as ever. She was clothed in a red blouse and black pants and kept her left arm behind her back.

Once stopped in the middle of the arena Miss X continued to speak.

‘Her opponent is considered an underdog, but he’s known to bring an upset! Please, welcome – Pembrooke Artysup!’

Pembrooke exhaled and put on his sunglasses. He made sure his watch was tightly fit and entered the arena.

The sun scorched the arena and Pembrooke was already getting high on the atmosphere amongst the ovations, the loud music and the heat.

He made it to the middle where Vilivian was waiting. The argument was still fresh; Pembrooke feared that she may try and press on his psyche. Any word coming from her lips could become a means to weaken his morale.

‘Hot day, isn’t it?’ she smiled softly as she watched a butterfly fly by.

‘Ah. Yeah.’ He answered, uncertainly.

Miss X’s voice resounded yet again.

‘What a weather, am I right?’ her laughter echoed. ‘Let’s heat up the atmosphere even more by making the arena a little more fitting!’

A sudden and powerful gust of wind kicked up around them. Dust rose up, confusing them and blocking off view. Pembrooke covered his head with his arms and after several seconds of violent winds he witnessed the arena change.

Golden sand surrounded him, including the footing. He could barely make out the stands, peeking from in-between the dunes. Vilivian was as perplexed as he was, but she did not allow that expression to linger for long.

She chased away some of her hair in the front. ‘Shall we?’

‘Are the fighters ready?!’ Miss X exclaimed loudly.

Pembrooke put his hand on his handgun as Vilivian clenched her fists and took a stance.

Melee? Yeah. No.

‘Begin!’

Before Vilivian could take one step in his direction he pulled out his gun and shot her shoulder. The bullet went in and blood dripped into the sand. She groaned and collapsed on one knee, and Pembrooke hesitated. A quick thought said; is that it? Which was immediately replaced by “hell no”, but before he could double-tap he noticed Vilivian smirk smugly.

‘Ah. That surprised me.’

Her words, and that smirk, somehow maddened him immensely.

‘Ward.’ She chanted and stood up – quickly and effortlessly.

Pembrooke moved back as he fired three more bullets, but only one managed to graze her shoulder until the translucent magical shield was put up in front of her.

She ran towards him with her arm extended and the shield covering most of her front. He lowered his weapon and shot at her leg just as she was jumping and proceeding to dropkick him in the chest.

They both collapsed with his handgun falling out of his hand and sunglasses off his head. He gathered himself as quickly as he could and reached for it, but Vilivian was already swinging at him.

He reached for the combat knife strapped to his hip and ducked down avoiding her swing. He immediately stabbed to counter, but his arm was grabbed and that’s where he realized Vilivian’s inhuman strength.

She raised his arm effortlessly despite his opposition and with her other fist she struck his ribs. The audience yelled out in shock.

Pembrooke coughed out, stunned in grave pain as he collapsed onto the sand along with the knife. He looked up at Vilivian who merely glared at him from above. Her shoulder wound was dripping with blood, but she didn’t seem to mind.

‘Get up.’ She said stone-faced as the spectators jeered at her.

He tried to, truly, but as he took breath to gather strength a sharp pain coursed through his chest and he fell back again.

‘I must’ve fractured a rib or two. Pardon me,’ she said in a scarily sweet voice. ‘I tend to forget how fragile humans really are.’

He grimaced. She had that expectant look on her face and he had no choice. He reached for his pocket and took out the healing crystal. He put the crystal near to where he was struck and focused.

Heal me, he thought. Heal me and let me kill this bitch before she kills me.

The crystal shined then shattered. Pembrooke felt a painful current run through his body.

He could feel his insides put themselves back together. His ribs returned to their form, the blood getting cleansed and the pain that came with it. He would scream if it weren’t even more painful, so he gritted his teeth and focused on staying conscious.

It passed eventually and all he felt was slight numbness in the chest and voltage jolting him every few seconds.

He stood up, Vilivian standing calmly a few feet away. It was incredible how quick he got better. The healing spell was truly something to behold.

‘Again?’ she asked smugly. She glanced over at the knife to his right and at the gun to his left. He’s had about enough of her toying with him.

He leaned forward and pressed a button on his modular suit and the sudden burst propelled him forward knee first into Vilivian’s head.

The Matriarch collapsed shocked, but still conscious whilst Pembrooke managed to stick the landing perfectly. He rushed to recover his gun, sand not making it any easier and when he reached it he turned immediately and fired upon Vilivian.

The woman had already created a barrier with her one hand that blocked his shots. With the other hand she raised it into a fist, glowing blue.

‘Burst.’ She chanted and the ground beneath Pembrooke trembled.

‘Fuckin’ magics!’ he cursed as the sand around him exploded violently and pushed him back. Course and rough on his eyes he could barely notice Vilivian approaching him yet again.

He tried to aim, but she grabbed the handgun and wrestled it away as she headbutted him. Pembrooke staggered backwards, his nose bleeding, he wheezed in pain.

Vilivian stood with a gun in her hand. She rotated it around in her hand, studying it like the most diligent scholar.

‘Technology is incredible,’ she said in awe. ‘Such simple concept; aim and fire. And you can’t even see the projectile. If it were made of silver I might’ve died.’

She aimed it at him and pulled the trigger.

Strange, thought Pembrooke. He’s been so used to the sound of gunfire he’s learned to ignore it most of the time. And yet, that single gunshot echoed in his mind, hollowing out everything else.

He looked down and saw blood pour out the side of his stomach.

‘Ah.’ He finally heard himself gasp as he grabbed his wound and fell sitting down on the sand. His head bobbing up and down as he realized his own mortality.

Miss X floated above them, showing them on screens as the audience was made spectacularly silent.

‘Well,’ Vilivian said, disappointed as she snapped the handgun in two and threw the pieces away. ‘It seems rather efficient on you, however.’

‘Don’t compare average humans to monsters like you.’ He uttered.

‘You think you're average?’

‘Shut up!’ he snapped and winced. He was struggling for breath. ‘You’ve made your point yet? You beat me. I was wrong. I lost. I couldn’t do anything.’

‘You’ve already had everything you needed to defeat me,’ she crooked her head observing his wound. ‘You simply chose to not do it.’

‘What use would that thing be?’ he cried. ‘Against witches? Ghosts? You?’ he coughed violently and then said in a weak voice. ‘What kind of training or equipment was supposed to prepare me for the supernatural? For things that were simply born better?’

Vilivian pressed her lips, vexed.

‘Don’t blame your own incompetence on birth rights or the unknown. I am over a thousand years old. Not all my victories were decisive and I have suffered losses as well. But I got stronger. I trained and learned.’

‘My world was at peace – I had no reason to put in any effort!’

‘Then why fight in this tournament?’

‘Because . . . I wanted to prove to myself that I am more than I thought!’

He coughed, but Vilivian remained impassive.

‘Whether I should consider your fallacy a consequence of your inflated ego or sheer stupidity is hard to say.’ She approached and picked up the knife he dropped earlier. ‘You could’ve been more but you were content with a single victory. You saw yourself invulnerable enough to stop trying. Here, Male.’ she stabbed the knife into the sand in front of him. ‘Kill yourself with it and prove that you at least posses the bravery of a soldier you were trained to be. Or surrender. At this point that’s what I’d expect from you.’

He looked at his reflection in the blade. Damn it, he thought. That’s not how it was supposed to go. A quick, maybe fun tournament. Maybe a prize; some means for him to realize that his life isn’t pointless. That there is more to it. And what did he find? Death.

With a trembling hand, he grabbed the handle. He never thought to end up this way. He looked up at Vilivian. Anger numbed the pain as he slowly stood up, groaning.

He’s lost a lot of blood and Vilivian looked in surprise at his endurance. It was as if he sustained himself on hatred alone.

‘Is that your last breath?’ she asked.

‘If I surrender now, I’ll just prove myself wrong.’ He pointed a knife at her. ‘That way, I can at least go out in blazes of damned glory.’

Vilivian scoffed.

‘You can’t even do it yourself, so you need me to kill you for you? Pathetic. Why not prove me right and show me that there is some semblance of warrior spirit within you?’

‘You’re still on about that?’ he smiled wryly. ‘I didn’t even bring the fucking thing to the arena. And with this wound . . .’

Vilivian threw something at him. He managed to grab it in his bloodied hand and he could feel the healing crystal tremble in reaction to his blood.

She smiled at his flabbergasted expression.

‘You . . .’

‘Don’t need it.’

He glared at her mocking grin and then he put the crystal next to his bullet wound.

‘I hate you.’ He stated.

‘I know.’

He writhed in pain and fell on his knees as the electric current stunned him. He felt slight discomfort as his insides twisted back to their proper form and the bullet got expelled from his body.

Not even a scar remained and aside from a slight numbness he was feeling good. The pain subsided and his breathing stabilized.

‘It doesn’t change the fact that Axelion isn’t here, you know?’ he said, happy that he managed to avoid death for now, but still aware that Vilivian may change the fact relatively effortlessly.

‘Oh!’ Vilivian exclaimed rather loudly. ‘I’m certain that some dramatic convenience would be nothing but a trivial matter for someone who treats spatial magic as a hobby!’

She made a quick glance at God Eater’s balcony; someone chuckled from that direction.

A powerful wind picked up into a sandstorm around them. Pembrooke got near-sighted very quickly as the sand had gotten seemingly everywhere. A sudden burst of wind from behind him dispersed the sand and when he turned around he saw Axelion.

Twelve-metre-tall machine, slightly covered in sand; the knight kneeling before Pembrooke, as ever as it could be to fight – awaiting orders.

He turned to Vilivian who pushed away some of her hair.

‘You’ll regret it, you know?’ For the first time during this fight he exuded confidence.

‘Show me, then. And in exchange,’ she clenched her fists. The veins on her body lit up with purple. ‘I’ll show you.’

The audience cheered on loudly as Miss X commented colourfully.

‘What is happening?! Contestant Vilivian willingly helped her adversary! And what is that machine and where could it have POSSIBLY come from?!’

Pembrooke climbed onto Axelion’s cockpit in the back as Vilivian’s body changed.

Her clothes were torn apart as her torso and legs grew in size. Skin turned hard, into a dark colour as her limbs grew in length and fingers turned into claws. From her back a tail started emerging – long, segmented and flexible its point was sharp.

Anything resembling humanity disappeared – even her face. The eyes, lips and nose were gone and her head turned white and morphed to resemble a calf skull.

Inside Axelion, Pembrooke immediately connected himself to the machine. The mecha came to life as its senses became Pembrooke and vice versa.

+++ Reactor Outputs NORMAL +++

+++ Ammunition Systems NORMAL +++

+++ Missile Systems NORMAL +++

+++ Limbic Systems NORMAL +++

+++ Sensors NORMAL +++

+++ Welcome Back INSERT YOUR NAME HERE +++

‘Alright, Axelion. We’ve got ourselves a demon to kill!’ Pembrooke high-fived the grenade hanging from the ceiling. For luck.

+++ Acknowledged +++

The Axelion stood up; the noise of the engine drowned the sounds of the colosseum as the mighty goliath stood up ready for a fight. They watched Vilivian finish her transformation; the purple light within her glowed for a little before dying out. Her hollow eye sockets observing him.

‘Let’s dance.’

The autocannons mounted on its head took aim and fired before Vilivian managed to move. The projectiles pushed her back, but didn’t manage to even put a dent in her skin.

She charged toward him brushing off the projectiles that managed to hit her and once she was close enough she jumped.

Axelion’s right arm moved quickly, but with very mechanical motion and Vilivian was swatted out of the air like a fly. She collapsed into a dune and was partially covered by sand.

Mecha’s right arm equipped itself with a beam saber and the mechanical knight charged forward. Vilivian dug herself out of sand and with her enhanced agility and speed dodging the strike wasn’t difficult. She jumped up on the Axelion’s arm, wrapping her extended tail around it and climbing atop towards the head. The autocannons took aim and fired at her, but Vilivian persisted through. Once she reached the head she smashed in the eye.

+++ WARNING! Damage to Main Sensor Detected +++

‘I can see that!’

She then tried to rip out the autocannons and though they still managed to open fire at Vilivian which caused her to recoil; she jumped behind them onto Axelion’s neck and tore them out from there.

+++ WARNING! Damage To External Cannons Detected +++

‘I fucking know! Grab her!’

Axelion’s free hand managed to pluck Vilivian and threw her into the sand at its feet just after she tore the cannons out. The saber came down to pierce her, but Vilivian moved aside and tried climbing the arm once more, but Axelion moved back and instead kicked her.

+++ External Cannons Not Detected. Would You Like To Send Report? +++

‘Do not send the fucking report!’

Vilivian was sent flying, but neither the kick nor landing on sand didn’t cause her any damage either.

Though Axelion lost two weapons he was glad to retain the main eye’s functionality. Relying on auxiliary sensors, while possible, was difficult especially with something so fast moving.

Pembrooke had another beam saber fire up in Axelion’s other arm and he charged her. The heat coming from exhausts in the back burned the sand into glass as Axelion took swings at Vilivian. She ducked under and climbed on its leg from behind.

‘Again?! Fly up!’

The thrusters pointed downwards as Vilivian climbed the leg. She saw flame appearing in one of the exhausts and barely jumped away towards the middle where the door to the cockpit was. Axelion launched into the air and Pembrooke decided to let gravity do the work.

Axelion rose through the air and Pembrooke started hearing pounding.

‘What—’

Another loud bang and a dent appeared in the door to the cockpit.

‘Shit!’

Axelion sped up its Ascend. Vilivian could barely hold on.

‘Pleasefalloffpleasefalloffpleasefalloff!!’

They were slightly above the stands when Vilivian fell off and dove to the sand below. She helplessly flailed in the air and landed in the dune kicking up the dust.

Axelion landed as well, blowing away the desert.

‘Where is she?’ Pembrooke asked.

+++ Unidentified Lifeform Detected Approximately FIVE Meters Below This Unit +++

‘Below? What is she—’

The Axelion started sinking into the ground. The sand gave out beneath it and started falling into the ravine from which Vilivian emerged. She quickly climbed the back of Axelion and started attacking the thrusters. Pembrooke surrendered his sabers and desperately commanded the giant to grab her, but the Matriarch deftly avoided capture whilst removing mecha’s flight ability all the while it sunk deeper into the underground.

+++ WARNING! Thrusters ONE and TWO Capability At Minimum. +++

+++ WARNING! BOTTOM LIMBS Functionality Obstructed +++

+++ Would You Like To Troubleshoot For Help? +++

‘Fuck!’

He looked at Vilivian. She placed herself a safe distance from his hands. Her blood veins started glowing with purple light. He could see her heart light up like a star.

‘What’s she doing?’

+++ DATA NOT FOUND +++

Vilivian opened her mouth. The insides were dark as the abyss. A purple light appeared within.

‘She’s using magic!’

+++ DATA NOT FOUND +++

‘Fire the rockets!’

+++ PREPARING MISS—

ERASE. Vilivian’s voice echoed in Pembrooke’s head.

Energy gathered in Vilivian’s body was unleashed through her mouth. Magic at its purest took the form of a pink beam as it was launched at the Axelion with a singular purpose – to remove everything it meets.

The Axelion was cut in half separating its torso from legs. Pembrooke was just above when the beam struck and it continued going towards the stands – the spectators tried running away, but the beam dispersed ceremonially just as it was about to hit.

Axelion’s torso collapsed onto the sand with Pembrooke still inside. He cried in pain as he was thrown around the walls inside.

‘A giant, fucking, robot . . . Fuck!’ He noticed Vilivian slowly approaching him. Her tail waved from one side to another. She relished in it, he just knew. That monstrous expression didn’t show anything but he knew she was being smug.

But then, a glimmer of hope.

+++ MISSILES PREPARED +++

+++ TARGET LOCKED +++

+++ FIRE? +++

‘Yes! YES!’ he shouted.

+++ FIRING MISSILES +++

From the back of his torso Axelion launched four rockets into the air. They quickly set course onto Vilivian and the Matriarch didn’t even react when they struck her.

The explosion would’ve levelled the buildings, but on this makeshift desert all it did was create a temporary sandstorm.

Pembrooke wasn’t ready to throw in the towel just yet. He’s come too far. He grabbed the rifle and a spare magazine and took off the grenade that was hanging and hid it in his pocket – for luck.

He had to kick the hatch open. The wind immediately got into his mouth. Why was it so freaking hard to see anything?

He slowly walked up to where Vilivian was standing; his rifle up, squinting eyes to see as much as he could without being bothered. And then he saw her. Oh, what a beautiful view it was.

She was kneeling. With a large wound on her stomach, that showed her pink flesh beneath the coal skin. Her tail was gone as well as her right arm was completely gone, a bleeding pink spot was there instead. The left one had an elbow become a piece of meat barely connecting two parts of her arm. Her mouth was open wide with her tongue sticking out.

The tag, on her left arm, was slightly dirtied, but was left otherwise undamaged.

‘I told you you would regret it.’

INDEED, Vilivian’s weak voice echoed in his mind. SEEMS I WAS . . . CARELESS.

‘It’s over. I’m not going to make the same mistake as you did. I won’t kill you though. That will make us even.’

He heard her chuckle.

IS THAT SO? CLAIM MY TAG THEN. YOU’VE EARNED IT.

‘You could just surrender.’

YOU DIDN’T. WHY SHOULD I? COME NOW, I CAN BARELY MOVE.

He looked at her barely attached arm then looked at her unmoving expression. He aimed his rifle and fired. He shot off the piece of meat and the lower arm fell to the ground. ‘There. Now, I can take the tag.’

CLEVER.

‘Well, I hope you will remember this lesson.’

LESSON?

He approached her, close enough to snag away the tag and spoke softly near where he thought her ears would be.

‘Don’t tell me what to do. Because I just might do it.’

It felt cathartic. For a moment.

THERE IT IS.

‘What is?’

PRIDE.

Tail emerged from beneath the sand and stabbed him in the right shoulder. She’s buried it! That bitch!

He wailed in pain holding his shoulder. He then watched his terror as the bloodied tip of the tail drips his blood onto her tongue. It wiped his blood clean and when it retracted back inside her mouth all of her visible veins, outside or inside lit up.

A red flash occurred in her hollow eyes. Her flesh started moving, growing and then suddenly burst as her arms grew back. The wound on her stomach healed impeccably fast and she stood up – fit as a fiddle.

He grabbed his rifle despite the wound and reached for the grenade. He pulled the pin and threw the grenade at the feet of the Matriarch as he made his distance.

He fired off bullets as the explosion consumed Vilivian who covered herself with her arms. All forty-five rounds went into the cloud of smoke and sand. He exchanged the magazine as quickly as he could with the wound in his arm and just in time as he saw silhouette emerging from the cloud. He aimed his weapon.

And hesitated.

Vilivian emerged – in her human form. Naked. Her emerald eyes glaring with determination and her fiery red hair flowing loose in the wind. He couldn’t take a very good look as she immediately struck him in the abdomen. His eyes open wide as he dropped his weapon and fell to his knees.

‘Damn . . . it.’

Pembrooke fainted, finally.

‘Sleep, Warrior.’ She said and took off his wristwatch and not long after Miss X announced her victory.

***

A post semi-final Fox Den was filled to the brim, though this time it felt even more so as people actively avoided being in Vilivian’s vicinity.

Pembrooke was considered an underdog and was rather well known in the town, whilst all people knew about Vilivian is that she sometimes is a monster. Her cruelty towards her opponent in the semi-final also hadn’t gone unnoticed and resulted in spawning several unkind rumours about her.

Vilivian didn’t mind. It was to be expected. She fully embraced her demonic nature and decided to live both as a human and a Matriarch. She was rather happy about that resolution – the only thing between her and the wish was the final – and she just couldn’t wait for the next day.

‘Congratulations on victory, Viliv.’ Saki gave her wine. ‘This one’s on the house.’

‘Thank you, Saki.’ Vilivian smiled and tasted her sweet and mellow strawberry-flavoured drink. She was clothed in the red blouse and black pants – courtesy of Saki, yet again.

Uncouth conversations could be heard from other tables. Words like “brutal”, “savage” and “bloodthirsty” seemed to epiteph her name the most.

‘Sorry about that.’ Said Saki.

‘It’s fine. It’s natural to fear.’

‘And if that fear turns to anger?’

‘That would be very entertaining, indeed.’ Vilivian smirked.

‘Ah,’ Saki shook her head. ‘What has become of that well-mannered lass who sought no conflict?’

‘Oh, I’m still here, don’t worry.’ Vilivian gave her a comforting smile. ‘I simply know my limits a little better.’

‘Mhm. You know, I could put you in a waitress uniform if you’d like. That may disperse some of those rumours.’

‘You don’t have to bother, really. And I can help you anytime, should you ask.’

‘I might take you up on that offer sometime.’

‘But not the dress, please. I don’t really . . . feel comfortable wearing that.’

‘But you do feel comfortable being naked in front of thousands of people?’

‘Well—’

‘Did you have to turn back human? I’m pretty sure you could’ve flicked his head and won.’

‘Yes, but . . . When I drink blood as a demon I get into a frenzy. Going back human allows me to better control my urges. Otherwise he might’ve ended up dead. I didn’t want that.’

‘You shot him!’

‘I encouraged him! Otherwise he’d wallow in his self-pity until the end of times.’

‘Well . . . For what it’s worth I think he got better thanks to that fight. I saw him at the beach screaming profanities at the ocean. He’s more upset with the fact he forgot about the tail than that he lost.’

‘He’s a young male with great potential. It’d be a shame if the human race lost him.

‘So . . . Only one more round left. Are you ready?’

‘I cannot wait.’

‘What will you do if you win? I mean, after you make your wish? I remember you being rather stuck up on that.’

‘I just might return to my home world satisfied with a job well done and a promise kept. I might travel. Why, staying here doesn’t seem that bad of an option. So much freedom . . . so many consequences to deal with. Or maybe I’ll do all of it. Being a timeless creature is an advantage in this situation.’

‘That does sound like good fun.’

‘Doesn’t it?’

She drank her drink.

***

[Vilivian]: Round 3: The Allegory Between Instances of Aptitude and Practice

Original doc

“No creature found on Britannia is as vile and monstrous as a Matriarch – a devil-spawned demon borne of gluttony, and lust given physical form. These vile shapeshifters take on forms of fair maidens while they lie in wait for their victims and change into grotesque monsters while they prowl. Fortunate few are killed immediately but damned are the souls of men spared to be taken away into servitude as means of sustenance or reproduction. Despite their sex, their strength rivals two dozen hardened battalions and possess endurance of a Goliath. They are heartless, without virtue, conscience, and scruple. Matriarch experiences an absolute ecstasy as she inflicts suffering and death. They are wicked and filthy monsters, existing contrary to nature and it takes several a holy knight – equipped with silver blades, indomitable wills, and zealous purpose to face down that immoral breed of chaos.”

Dust kicked up as, with a heavy thump, Piano closed the encyclopaedia. Fiends, Demons and Devils: Pious Guide to Extermination was the long title of one of the very few books that possessed information on Matriarchs. Not one, however, had any information regarding their weaknesses and mentioned only their affinity to silver.

Volumes were dated and inaccurate – transcribed by the members of piety recollecting the stories they’d hear from the survivors of Matriarchs’ onslaught. There was little wisdom compared to the amount of sheer bafflement at the sex of the demons, right next to the common religious gibberish that made Piano roll her eyes every two sentences.

Piano had utmost confidence in her own abilities. She was a fantastic duellist and was great at improvising, but none of her talents were capable of mending broken ribs. Vilivian will not play into feints and other tricks. She’ll punch every opportunity she sees and Piano saw how durable that woman is. Even with her ki she’ll need to land several good hits to wound the Matriarch. Vilivian needs only one good hit.

Piano sighed and put away the book on the shelf. Strange, she thought as she looked around. The library seemed desolate though even in the late afternoon it was still occupied by several people, but the reading tables were emptied, with some books remaining open.

She received her answer once she sensed a familiar energy approaching her. She turned to face Vilivian walk up with solemn expression. Clothed in red and black, the long braid swaying slightly and her sword hanging on her back.

‘Blackblood.’ Vilivian nodded slightly. Her emerald eyes seemed to drill into Piano’s gold and purple.

‘Vilivian,’ Piano reciprocated with a nod of her own. ‘Rare to find you in here.’

‘Indeed? I find myself spending most of my free time in here, though, I suppose it is curious to find a literate monster.’

Piano could only look away in slight embarrassment. It was not the assumption she wanted to make, but it was difficult to disagree with the masses.

After her second round against Pembrooke, Vilivian’s reputation took a large dive. She toyed with the man. She effectively defeated him thrice; twice was he brought back from the brink of death thanks to the magical stones they brought. It was hard to find method in that madness and thus she was dubbed as such. People were afraid.

Piano empathized with Vilivian to an extent. There was almost no history documented on Matriarchs. So little was known about them – only guesswork and spite from survivors as few as they were. Matriarch’s life seemed to be only about fear.

Vilivian passed her and reached for the book Piano just put away.

‘Studying us?’ Matriarch asked.

‘I tried to.’ Piano admitted.

‘It is a deathly profession – to study Matriarchs. We have no history. No civilizations, no cities built.’

‘You have traditions.’ Piano argued. ‘Otherwise, you wouldn’t call me by that moniker.’

Vilivian browsed the same pages Piano did.

‘Perhaps. But my understanding is different from others’. Even among the Matriarchs there seems to be lack of common history.’

‘Your name implies some form of society.’

‘They are short-lived and redundant after the brood reaches maturity.’

‘None tried to unite?’

‘Unity! Do you know what we call a gathering of clans?’

Piano shrugged.

‘A massacre. We fight each other because the blood demands it. The only reason that mothers aren’t killed by the children is out of respect.’

Vilivian put away the book.

‘You won’t find victory in the past, Blackblood. There’s only present. Only me.’

‘Is that supposed to be an advice of some sort?’

‘In a way,’ She thought a while. ‘A little more silver couldn’t hurt you.’

Vilivian smiled at her. Piano was taken aback by how composed the Matriarch was. In all their other interactions, Vilivian spoke as if their duel was a prophecy long-time coming; an event to decide the fate of the universe. Now, she was almost tranquil. Even her ki seemed to be . . . settled.

‘You’re different today,’ Piano said finally. ‘Very . . . glad.’

‘I am very glad indeed. To find you trying to fight your own battles by yourself is but one of the reasons.’

‘. . . What are you trying to say?’

‘Do not pretend as if Quan’s performance today wasn’t subpar compared to his previous showing.’

‘It’s his fault he didn’t take himself into consideration before our fight.’

‘I don’t care for the games your brother plays with other contestants. I appreciate the fact that I’ll face you instead of the speedster, but right now I’m a bundle of suppressed instincts held together by the realization that a single day is insignificant in a life of a Matriarch.’ She bared her teeth and smiled; for a second, Piano could see a ravenous glint in her eyes. ‘Not fighting you right now is not as easy as it would be to render your brother deceased. Do make certain he realizes I’ll suffer him no longer, Blackblood.’

With a final smile, Vilivian excused herself to another section of library while Piano exited the building in a hurried walk.

Outside, Piano stopped to calm her quickened heartbeat. She did not realize how stuffy it was in the library until she took a heap of fresh air.

Sun was setting and the people were leaving to bars and homes in preparation for the final day of the tournament.

Piano wasn’t expecting Vilivian to openly threaten her brother like that. It was to be expected. The Matriarch suffered no fools indeed, something Piano learned first-hand the first time they met, and if Forte managed to prove himself cumbersome enough Piano felt justified about forewarning her brother. She must protect him.

But before that she had to fully prepare for the fight with Vilivian. There was plenty of options to defeat her in her human form, but once she transforms all the advantages, that Piano may have, are made obsolete.

Silver. The best tool for killing magical beasts in Vilivian’s world. Piano possessed a set of silver blades, but would the Matriarch feel anything more than a slight prickle?

A proper weapon was required. She made her way to the smithy. Its chimney puffed smoke and she could hear a voice coming from the inside.

Inside, the resident blacksmith – Nephros, blue-haired and clad in black, quietly worked on an arrangement of metal components welding them together. On a chair next to him, with a basket full of walnuts at his legs, an oni youth – Volley – was cracking nuts and eating them whilst conversing with Nephros.

‘. . . So, this sword, eh? Miss Viliv been asking me to hold it sometimes when she’s busy and that thing is like, super heavy. In two hands, it feels as if I were carrying several barrels for my auntie and more. And there ain’t no power coming from it, it’s just so heavy you get blisters by carrying it around and when I tried to tie it behind my back like Miss Viliv does I had to constantly fight off the gravity from pulling me backwards and when I asked her about it she said that there’s nothing special about this sword and that it’s really just a long piece of metal with very sharp edges and I’m like, well, yeah, clunky things like that don’t have destiny written all over them, y’know and I just— Miss Piano!’

Volley bared his fangs, but unlike Vilivian there was nothing but childish happiness emitting from it. He still had bandages wrapped around his chest, but his strength found no issue breaking the nuts.

Nephros looked up from the table and glared at her. His weary eyes told her story of his unsuccessful attempts to rid himself of the talkative guest and he looked at her wondering whether she’s here to bother him or to make an order.

She had no intention of holding him any longer than she had to. He couldn’t be older than eighteen, but in cynicism and world weariness he was about fifty.

‘Are you here to take him home or to make an order?’ Nephros said sternly. ‘I’ll settle for one or the other, please.’

‘Come on, Nephy, that’s now how you greet a customer!’ Volley said and extended his hand towards Piano. ‘A nut?’ he offered.

‘No, thank you. I need something made.’ She said to the blacksmith.

Nephros let out a sigh of relief and looked at Volley but the oni boy spoke out first.

‘I’m not leaving, yet.’ Volley shoved a nut into his mouth.

That was the end of it. Nephros let out an exasperated groan and looked at Piano, trying to look as accommodating as he possibly could.

‘How can I help?’

‘I need a silver blade. And it needs to be light to use.’

Nephros groaned again and hid his eyes in his one non-crabby hand, and Volley chuckled.

‘Not you alone, Miss Piano.’ Said oni.

‘What do you mean?’

‘Ever since Vilivian’s fight with Pembrooke people have been lining up orders for anything silver. I’ll tell you what I told all of them. I can’t make the blades out silver that will be good for combat. The material’s simply too bad; you’ll find more luck trying to bludgeon her with a rock.’

‘Are people that scared of her?’ Piano asked, slightly surprised. She was fully aware the effect Vilivian had on people, but she wouldn’t think it would lead them to arm.

Volley looked down at his nuts.

‘Thinks have gone beyond fear.’ Nephros’s expression turned sour. ‘It’s borderline anger. I put out few blades before I caught on to it and stopped. I won’t be responsible for their deaths.’

‘People like underdogs, Miss Piano.’ Said Volley in a sad voice. ‘Pembrooke was kind of liked by the spectators. Just a guy who knows how to do stuff – has no inhuman powers and such so people wanted him to succeed, but Miss Viliv . . .’

‘Went too far.’ Nephros finished.

Volley couldn’t find words refute this and looked pleadingly at Piano. She opened her mouth to answer, but she couldn’t. It’s not that she wanted Vilivian burnt at the stake. What she felt towards the Matriarch was contrary to everyone else’s opinion, but she couldn’t openly condemn their anger. Her ability to evoke those feelings was what drove her to the blacksmith in the first place.

She ignored Volley and focused her eyes on Nephros; trying to avoid oni’s puppy eyes as much as possible.

‘I still need that blade.’

‘And I will make an exception. But, as a professional, I refuse to give you a blade made of pure silver. I don’t care that it works in other worlds – the metals I have don’t work that way.’

‘What can you do, then?’

‘Carbon steel plated in silver. Maintenance-heavy if you want that silver to be effective, but considering your many talents, you’ll do fine. The price, however, . . .’

‘Doesn’t matter.’

‘Any other specifics?’

‘Yes. Forty inches at most. Light, double-edged and capable of both thrusting and slashing.’

‘Got it. Now leave,’ he pointed his crab-hand at Volley and snipped. ‘You, too. I need to be alone for this.’

‘Fine, fine!’ Volley showed him the tongue and put some of the remaining walnuts in his pockets for the road.

They left Nephros to his work. Piano’s mind ran through strategies, but she couldn’t put anything together as the teenager’s presence was so unusually timid it was almost frightening.

She didn’t mind his company as she knew it was short lived. Then again, she felt as if he was expecting her to ask him about his rather obvious worries, but it was difficult for Piano to even pretend to be empathetic. Vilivian brewed her beer and now had to drink it.

They reached a plaza in a business district – right between the Golden Fox Gate and long street leading straight to the Cross Colosseum. Plaza’s landmark was the slaughterhouse. It was, in large part, a windowless building, save for a few small windows near the flat roof.

They looked in the direction of the mob gathered alongside slaughterhouse’s bricked wall. The mob listened to a heckler – a relatively short man standing on a plywood beer crate. His dark and greasy hair poked out from underneath his black hat and the red blush across his unshaved face told story of where the contents of the crate disappeared to.

‘Gather and listen, my friends!’ the heckler cried. His voice, while uneven, was resolute in message. ‘The last day of the tournaments draws near! And with it, the God Eater’s elaborate joke closes in on its final reckoning! The Matriarch!! A wolf in human’s clothing . . . Brought in here by the God Eater as a courtesy to the unwashed beast of the unscoured depths! I know you hurt for unlike that thing you have a heart! You may feign ignorance, but I know better. You’re afraid . . . I hear you utter prayers; I saw you turn your purses inside out seeking solace in trinkets and offerings, but she won’t save us! She would see us tear each other apart for her entertainment! No! We must stand together! Turn our fear into anger! Drive the fiend back to its lair!’

Most of the listeners were amused by the madman’s spouts, but Piano was terrified the few people that listened intently. Their faces might have betrayed no deep interest, but their eyes reflected his zealousness.

She looked at Volley. His breathing was short and rapid He clenched and unclenched his fists and his lip trembled. She wasn’t surprised that the youth had trouble holding back his anger.

‘In this trying time, we must rally behind the ones capable of vanquishing such evils! And who, but the monster’s equal? The other side of the bracket! Yes, the Crimson Dancer! The shining star of the tournament! Kind, graceful and beautiful! She’s the one we need to follow. Grant her our support! We must prove a point that things like Matriarchs have no place in our town!’

Piano cringed hard. She instinctively took a step back and was about to run in the opposite direction. She noticed the speaker glancing in her direction and her heart stopped for a bit but was saved by the crossguard entering the scene.

‘That’s enough of this!’

The mob split as the beast-woman walked in and crossed her arms in front of the madman. She was almost reaching his head despite him standing on a box.

‘You know the rules – no stirring up shit during the tournament!’ Her beastly eyes drilled into him, but the heckler remained undeterred.

‘What rule am I breaking, officer?’

‘Sowing of discord among the populace and public disturbance, firstly and secondly.’

‘I am merely conveying the truth that everyone is aware of but too afraid to act upon! If my words cause them to act on their just hearts, then I pray they’ll be able to overcome whatever obstacles they face!’

‘That’s fantastic,’ the beast-woman sounded exhausted. ‘Now, get off the box and stop the show or I’ll bring you in.’

‘Crossroads is a place of freedom and understanding, first and foremost. You have no right to arrest me!’

‘Perhaps not, but I can still bring you in under article 54, section 1 that stands for “Pissing Off An Officer That Is About To Go Off Duty And Is Too Tired To Deal With The Legislature.” Now, relinquish the box and I won’t have to put you in one for the night.’

The madman mumbled, but he conceded and gave back the crate and drunkenly stumbled out of the area. The guard scattered the on-lookers with one more shout and left as well. The mob returned to their daily lives.

Piano and Volley got out of the view. Well, Piano did. Volley just kind of followed her.

‘This is mad.’ She stated.

‘Innit?’ Volley agreed. ‘Day’s barely ending and there’s people like him already. It’s like someone’s had a vendetta against her since day one . . .’

Piano couldn’t agree more. Too little time passed since Vilivian’s fight ended. Even if there a movement against her – it turned into an audible spite a little too fast. And she had an idea who was behind it.

‘Glad to see the guards doing their work, though, I suppose.’ Volley said.

‘Quite. I feel like you were about to do something incredibly stupid there.’

‘I wanted to steal his box. Without the height advantage no one would hear him.’

‘Nigh impossible to argue with this reasoning.’

They continued to walk together for a little while. She felt a slight comfort seeing Volley a little cheerier. At some point, they separated. Volley returned to the Fox Den and Piano made her way to the room she shared with her brother in the inn.

Did Piano feel anger? Yes, naturally, albeit seldom. She couldn’t quite say if she were ever angry with her brother. Upset or slightly inconvenienced by his methods? At most.

She was aware that he focused on his meeting with the God Eater during their stay in Crossroads but knew little else about his actions. Piano thought herself a woman of integrity willing to fight on equal terms so long as they remain as such.

The thought of being unknowingly assisted from behind the scenes maddened her somewhat.

She entered the room and saw her brother sitting on his bed. He had unusually matted hair and was wearing only his dress shirt. He appeared as if he had just woken up and opened the window to let some air in.

‘. . . Victories mount as fame blooms like a petal,’ he stood up, smiling. ‘Fantastic work out there, Sister.’

‘Brother. You look . . .’ she raised eyebrow.

‘Unkempt?’ he laughed at his appearance. ‘I’ve had a long night. After your fight I needed a little nap. I just came to.’

‘I take it you didn’t see the second semi-final then?’

‘There was no point.’

‘Vilivian won.’

‘As was expected. Miss Vilivian would have to play her hand extremely poorly to come out that scuffle defeated.’ He frowned. ‘Is something wrong?’

Piano sighed and closed the door. She paced around the room before she finally stopped and turned to him.

‘People are afraid of her.’

‘They were before.’

‘Not to that extreme. People are actively avoiding her, exiting the rooms she’s in, whispering behind her back . . . There were few like that before, but now there’s even an angry mob gathering! The progress is not natural. Fear turned into anger way too quickly.’

‘That does seem extreme.’ Forte remained nonchalant.

‘So?’

‘So, what?’

‘You didn’t have anything to do with it?’

Forte made surprised expression.

‘The brew of her errs is for her taste only! Why would I bother with that she-beast?’

‘You interfered with Quan.’

He glanced to the side for a split second.

‘Come now, we talked a little but that’s about it!’

‘I wasn’t born yesterday, Forte.’ She said exasperated. ‘For how long?’

‘. . . Larger part of the night. I, truly, had nothing to do with that hatred towards Miss Vilivian, though. I’ve been asleep ever since your fight ended.’

‘And . . . do you intend on doing anything to her?’

‘Now, the magic won’t work if I do tell you.’ He smiled confidently, but Piano was slightly panicking.

‘I’d urge you to reconsider, Brother. I talked to Vilivian . . .’

‘That must’ve been detrimental to your intelligence quotient.’ He said apologetically.

‘She warned me . . . To warn you that if you try interfering, she’ll . . . she won’t take it in stride.’

‘I can fend for myself, Sister.’ He patted her on her shoulder. She grasped it with pained expression.

‘I don’t think she cares for that.’

‘And then you’ll find an opening . . .’

‘Just this once,’ she interrupted. ‘Just this once let me fight by myself. I can handle her.’

Piano herself wasn’t certain of that, but she’d anything if that meant keeping her brother away from harm.

Forte frowned and thought a while. He smiled finally and said:

‘I was just looking out for you.’

‘And I appreciate that, truly. But you go great lengths to help me. I don’t want you to go too far.’

‘You don’t have to convince me that hard, Sister. Very well. I shall leave Vilivian in your capable hands.’

‘Promise.’ She insisted as she didn’t let go of his hand.

He smiled and opened his mouth. He then closed it quickly.

‘Before I do that,’ he reached for his dress shirt pocket and pulled out a stone – crystal, devoid of any glimmer or light. ‘This is for you.’

She recognized it instantly.

‘Isn’t it . . .?’

‘Miss Williams’ fine craftmanship, yes. A rejuvenation crystal, though I’m yet to see it action . . .’

‘I saw,’ Piano took it in her hand. ‘Vilivian made Pembrooke use two of those. They proved fruitless in the end . . . How did you get this?’

‘Vilivian owed me a favour.’

She gritted her teeth.

‘So, you did provoke her after all!’ she pushed his hand away.

‘That was before she threatened us!’

‘She threatened you! And she wouldn’t have if you just trusted me to win!’

‘My trust in you is unmatched, Piano! But even something as incorporeal as luck requires certain modicum of skill involved. All I wish is to slightly sway the scales your way.’

‘And if you sway too far, you’ll fall and die!’ she shook her head. Her expression was mix of fear and defiance. She hated these thoughts, but she couldn’t run from that very simple truth. ‘I want to protect you. My wish is to be able to protect you! But I can’t do it if you carelessly put yourself in those kinds of dangers!’

‘We only have each other, Piano. Quis curat ipsos curantis? Who shall care for the caretaker? I shall.’

‘And what if that’s not enough? What if I’m too weak, and you come to my aid and you get pointlessly hurt because of me?’

‘You are not weak!’ He reassured her as he put his hands on her shoulders, but she stepped back immediately.

‘That . . . I must see to myself.’

Piano turned around and left the room. As she went down the stairs, she cursed herself for running away like that, but she knew that if she had stayed and continued to argue with him, she’d eventually concede.

She looked at the darkening sky and sighed. She had to defeat Vilivian to prove to herself – and to Forte – that she’s reliable enough to protect them both.

Question remained, however, how?

Forte stood astounded for a second before he slicked back his hair and fixed his dress shirt.

‘Now, that’s comedy.’

‘You listened?’ Forte turned around towards the window. His voice carried a heavy hint of disdain.

A piece of porcelain pottery flew in with dark wings emerging from underneath the lid. It landed on the floor and the smoke emerged taking form of a character old and emaciated. Blue-skinned with knives for ears, bloody sclera, and red irises. His torso was stuck to the smoke emerging from the porcelain pottery.

The demon stroked his white beard with perverted satisfaction.

‘It’s what I do.’

‘Our business concluded the moment I paid you for the information.’

‘Then you best hope she doesn’t give that stone back. You’ve paid a lot.’

Forte sat back down on his bed.

‘My sister’s no fool. And Vilivian would have mocked her if she did. What do you want?’

‘Come now, a rupture in your seemingly steadfast relationship? A day before the final? Textbook dramaturgy that would sell like hotcakes given the right crowd.’

‘Am I being blackmailed?’ Forte gave a hearty laugh. ‘I’m not sure what to feel! Intimidated? Amused?’

‘Laugh it up, deviling. I know the right people.’

‘Who? Vilivian? She has nothing to pay you with and will most likely throw up in disgust before you as much as utter a word. Yes! Disgusted! That’s what I feel like.’

Camio’s wicked smile persisted.

‘Now, now. We wouldn’t want Piano to cry her heart out once they find her darling brother’s body with a shattered ribcage tomorrow morning, would we?’

Forte grimaced, but what disgusted him even more was the fact that Camio had the audacity to threaten him like that.

He approached the desk and opened a drawer. Underneath the clothes, in-between golden scarf, and black vest a pouch of coins. He grabbed it and threw it Camio’s way.

‘Take it and leave us alone.’

Camio cackled as he caught the pouch and started counting coins. He was a demon forced to live in a piece of teaware for all eternity. Lifetime of humiliation turned the demon into an ill-tempered and spiteful wretch, but the old hand knows how to make a living. He works as an informant who likes to charge Forte ludicrously large amount of money and though Forte doesn’t hold Camio in high regard he understands that this shapeshifting teapot is a valuable “ally” to have in Crossroads. At least, for times he feels like it.

‘See? Nothing wrong with showing a little respect for the elderly every now and then.’

‘You sicken me.’ Forte said.

‘Flatterer. Bet you say that to all yer informants, eh?’

Forte generally found people who deal with subtlety to be far more dangerous than people who exercise their physical prowess.

Vilivian, for instance, was simple. She’s strong and has no way how the world works. If you piss her off, all you must do is run in the opposite direction. People like Camio were guile; possessed wisdom and could probably think in italics. Such people needed to be watched.

Preferably from distance.

Forte decided to pull out his notebook. Camio was certainly one of the smarter residents seeing as he was yet to reveal his full name.

‘If you’re done, leave.’

‘So, are you going to interfere?’ demon asked instead.

Forte leaned forward and spoke quietly. ‘Can you keep a secret?’

‘Of course.’ Camio assured him.

‘So, can I.’ Forte smiled at the demon’s grimace. ‘Point is – you don’t need to know. Now, leave,’ he opened his notebook at the page where Vilivian’s name was written. Directly interfering? That depends. He’ll do as he always does. Listen and watch. ‘I have some catching up to do.’

***

Vilivian entered the Fox Den, the now so very familiar bar to her and one of very few places she felt safe, though it seemed as if she’d have to try to find herself in any real danger.

As she made her way to the counter most patrons quickly got up from their seats, their drinks unfinished and left the bar in a hurry, toppling against each other and the furniture leaving the establishment mostly deserted save for those who know better.

Saki shook her head in disappointment as Vilivian approached with a frown on her face.

‘I keep scaring off your customers.’ She said with remorse as she watched Saki clean glasses.

‘They’ll come crawling back once they tire of the hog swill they serve at the other bars. Besides, it makes space for more civilized clientele. It’s a nice change of pace, especially during tournament season. What about you, though?’

‘I’m alright.’ Vilivian sat down and rested her arms on the counter.

‘There’s nothing wrong with feeling hurt, you know.’

‘I’m a Matriarch. As far as I know humanity has hated me since the dawn of time.’

‘Crossroads is more than just humanity, Viliv. Anyone that saw or heard about your fight with Pembrooke has it out for you and most of them are in it through herd mentality. It can be very overbearing.’

‘I’m a thousand years old, Saki.’

‘A thousand spent in a cave without interaction with any society, Viliv. Civilizations, and people, can turn hateful for the pettiest of reasons. You might have had your “good fun”, but from the outside you were sadistic and monstrous.’

‘The same people spiting me are the same people that cheered when I was bleeding out during my fight with Volley. Problem seems rooted elsewhere.’ Vilivian tried to justify herself.

‘Hypocrisy, thy name is Crossroads . . .’

‘If it really is such an issue why the Crossguard isn’t doing anything to prevent these rumours?’

‘Not exactly dissentious enough for the guard to get involved. Either that, or Chifu’s holding them back. That woman would see this whole town burning if it meant getting a kick out of it. That doesn’t change the fact that you should look out for your reputation . . .’

‘My reputation is apparently a consequence of actions I made even before the tournament started. I’ll deal with them myself.’

‘I’ve no doubt you will. But know, that it’s natural to get mad. Get even. Don’t pretend to be something you’re not.’

‘I know that.’

‘Good, because—’

Saki was interrupted by the sound of shattering glass. They turned around to see that someone threw a brick through the window. They heard footsteps running away.

‘Oh, hell no!’ Saki’s face twisted into rage making Vilivian’s hairs stand up. She threw the rug away and gave chase. ‘Watch the counter, will you?’

She quickly ran out of the shop. Her heavy steps shook the remaining glass.

At the same time, from upstairs, a faint jingle and Chifu walked down, sleepy and yawning. She looked towards the exit with annoyed grimace.

‘Just my luck.’

‘Hello, Trickster.’ Vilivian bowed her head very slightly.

‘Viliv!’ Chifu’s expression lightened up instantly. She briskly walked over to the counter and sat next to Vilivian. ‘Fantastic fight today. How are you holding up?’

‘Good.’

‘Bully. Mind working the tap and pouring me a pint? It might be a while before Saki catches up. That guy’s pretty fast despite his height.’ She turned on her seat and leaned her back on the counter.

‘You know of him?’ Vilivian stood up and walked around the counter.

She’s acquired certain degree of experience working as a waitress for Saki – though she had a feeling that the oni gaslighted her into wearing a rather revealing waitress uniform. Vilivian noticed that other waiters had much less frills and didn’t have their legs as exposed. Nonetheless, the Matriarch welcomed the experience, though it was strange that there were much fewer problematic customers whenever she was taking a shift.

She filled a pint with Chifu’s favourite as the Trickster continued to speak.

‘Vito is an obnoxious contrarian with drinking problem and strange fixation on knives and revolvers.’

‘Is he the one that started these rumours about me?’

‘Please. He’s just a loudmouth. The first word people would use to describe him is “idiot” if the word “gross” didn’t stick out its greasy hand.’

‘Saki won’t encounter any issues apprehending him, then?’

Vilivian put the pint on the bar and Chifu turned around, grabbing it, and taking a deep sip.

‘Aside from spewing spit and vomit on her clothes? None. Be as it may, the angry mob is very empowering. Besides, not that Saki should bother. For all your supposed responsibility she’s the one dealing with the consequences.’

‘If she hadn’t gone, I would have.’

‘You ought to be glad she did. I don’t think chasing a random man through the streets of Crossroads would do any good to your reputation.’

‘There’s no pleasing you, is there?’

‘Au contraire.’ She raised her glass. ‘Don’t take it wrong way. It’s just that listening to you and then watching you gives off the impression of you being rather hypocritical.’

‘The point, Trickster.’ Vilivian gritted her teeth.

‘Take your wish. Does it remain the same?’

‘Of course.’

‘You want to resurrect your friend. Why?’

‘So that I may keep my promise. I want to give him another chance in life. I want to give him a chance to once more see the world he used to cherish and so much.’

‘Very selfish of you, isn’t it?’

‘How is that selfish?’

‘Oh, Vilivian, darling. What’s the world against the cruel passage of time?’

‘What do you mean?’

‘You and I know how painful living for centuries can be. But unlike humans, gods and Matriarchs are solitary creatures. We’re used to this. But your friend? He was the only human to ever drink from the Grail. The only human to acquire eternal youth.’

‘Humans covet immortality when it’s offered to them. Why would he shun away a gift the most of his kind sacrificed so much for?’

‘Was he like the most of his kind, though?’

‘No.’

‘He met you when he was in his early twenties. He’s known you and visited you for about . . .’

‘I can’t recall—’

‘One hundred and eighty-seven years. He lived through a dozen of human generations, Vilivian. He saw his friends and family expire as the youth never abandoned him. We may have learned to cope but he was never meant for immortality. When he gave up that blade, he resigned himself to death. Do you truly want to torment him with prospect of another eternity?’

‘He won’t be alone.’

‘Don’t you think it’s too late for that? He’s been dead for centuries.’

‘I made the promise—’

‘Yes, you did. Do you think he went along with it because he expected to survive? Or because he hoped it would encourage you to leave that cave instead of waiting for him like a hopeless housewife?’

Vilivian opened her mouth to retort, but she stopped short of cursing Chifu. A seed of doubt took hold in her mind, and she began to slowly realize her own stupidity until a wash of wrath took over.

‘We’re done here.’ She said deadpan.

‘I figured we would.’

Vilivian walked out of the Fox Den leaving Chifu to her pint.

Trickster hummed a melody as she drank her beer with satisfaction.

***

Piano walked the dozing-off streets of Crossroads. Like a phantom, she inconspicuously avoided anyone who would stumble upon her and if anyone called out to her, she’d disappear from plain sight. She clutched the rejuvenation stone in her hand. She didn’t want to use it, but she knew she needed it. It allowed her one single mistake.

What about the second and the third?

She took a deep breath and tried analysing their match-up once more.

Vilivian could shatter a concrete wall without putting much thought into it. Piano could do the same, though not without help of her reinforcement abilities. She would rather avoid fisticuffs even if it meant using her sword to fight. She thought that ordering that silver blade would put her mind at ease, but she could shake doubt off her mind. There was an advantage to be found, depending on how the arena would change. Vilivian spent most of her life in secluded cave unlike Piano who travelled with her brother and fought in a variety of different environments. But the Matriarch had magic and her heightened senses to combat any attempts at subterfuge . . .

Piano was agitated. Her head hurt and it was clear she was still reeling after today’s fight. It was time for a break.

She stepped into the first bar she noticed and almost immediately regretted her decision.

The plaster seemed to be coming off the walls and the grey tiled floor was dirtied with muddy footsteps. There was no free table and nearly all seats by the counter were taken. And the worst part?

They all noticed Piano as she entered. Two dozen mouths went silent as they watched her cheeks blush. The only sound remaining being music coming from a beat-up radio standing atop of a refrigerator behind the bar.

It was a different kind of pressure. It wasn’t like they were expecting a performance. More like call to arms.

She slowly approached the bartender, ignoring the spectators.

‘. . . Excuse me, may I have some cocoa, please?’ she asked shyly.

Silver-haired bartender took a mug from a rack behind him.

‘Would you like it cold or hot?’

‘Cold, please.’

He nodded and she watched him prepare it. Firstly, he put in the cocoa mix in the mug, poured in some milk, whisked it, and handed it over. It’s not like she expected to be made with cream milk, chocolate flakes and a straw, but she expected there be some effort.

‘Err, how much do I . . .?’

‘For you, lass? Not a dime. It’s on the house.’

Piano was getting stressed.

‘I can’t accept it.’

‘It’s fine, don’t mention—’ The bartender tried to insist but Piano leaned forward with the mug clutched in her two hands.

‘Please, let me pay.’ She begged which could be paraphrased as “Let me be normal.”, but that gathered even more cheers from other patrons that saw that as a showcase of Piano’s humility. That wasn’t her goal, but for now she decided to ignore the unwarranted attention.

She felt like sitting by the counter would gather too much of it, so she looked around the tables. It was surreal to see that poor excuse of a restaurant to be this filled. Was it the alcohol? Or the food? If the cocoa was anything to go by, the fish and chips, advertised above the entrance, must be raw and uncooked.

Piano took her cocoa and looked around the free tables. There were none, of course. Each had one or two customers eyeing her.

Except one.

Piano took a deep breath and with a beverage in her hands she sat down opposite of the lone blonde girl, slowly sipping on a tea. The girl looked at Piano with disdain.

‘Must you?’ Angelique asked.

Piano mouthed a silent “Please” as the stares intensified. Angelique looked back to her drink without a word. Both ladies sipped silently as the usual murmur and life returned to the tavern. Seemed like everybody knew the value of a solitary drink.

Cocoa was delicious, despite its simplicity, and calming, but the situation wasn’t exactly relaxing. Piano just had the luck to run into the opponent she defeated in the first round of the tournament. Angelique was aloof and cold towards her, even more so. She was wearing a thick, black hoodie, hiding her arms.

It was all very awkward. Piano was used to those, and she’d think nothing of them, but it was slightly unsettling how detached Angelique was.

‘. . . I never knew there was bar like this in Crossroads.’ She said after she took a sip.

‘As is the case with most folk.’ Angelique didn’t look up from her beverage. ‘But ever since people realized where Vilivian spends most of her time they’ve been looking for someplace else.’

‘Are you here because of her as well?’

‘No.’ Angelique smiled wryly and drank from her cup. ‘I can simply appreciate a little irony.’

‘Irony?’

Angelique rolled her eyes.

‘This bar’s name is “Losers’ Bracket”.’ She explained.

‘Oooh . . . How did you find her fight?’

‘A one-sided beatdown. I’ve seen better.’

‘That’s all?’

Angelique squinted sceptical.

‘What is more to say?’

‘Seems everyone has a few sentences to say about what happened to Pembrooke . . .’

‘You really know how to make me feel special. Thing is I don’t care, Piano. I’m not really stocking up on pity these days. Why’d you pay any heed to these rumours? Say, are you scared she’ll do to your arms what you did to mine?’

Piano bit her lip.

‘I’m sorry.’

‘I know.’ Angelique shrugged. ‘Then, are you?’

‘I’m not scared. She unsettles people and—’

‘She did that before and that didn’t stop them from gawking while she was in her maid uniform.’

‘Maid uniform?’

‘If anything, I’d bet your brother had something to do with riling them up so much. You know, given she’s your next opponent.’

Piano quickly snapped away from trying to imagine Vilivian in a maid outfit performing maid duties.

‘My brother wouldn’t do—’ She hesitated. ‘My brother had nothing to do with it.’

‘You’d trust him on that?’

‘Yes. You and my brother have started on a very wrong foot, I get that, but he doesn’t deserve—’

‘Yes, he fucking does.’ The now empty cup of tea shattered underneath her force. Despite her new arms, Angelique still had a hard time grasping their strength. ‘Some things are ought to stay hidden. Ought to be . . . forgotten,’ Angelique shivered as sad grimace flashed her face before it turned back to anger. ‘What right does he have to glimpse into my past? What selfishness drives him to do that?!’

‘It wasn’t selfishness.’

‘What then?’

‘I cannot say.’

‘Why not?’

‘I just can’t!’

Piano almost shouted. Customers turned to watch but Angelique scared them off with a glare. She then turned back to Piano and spoke quietly.

‘I pity you. You’re an earnest person who means well, most of the time, but you’re blindsided by your sentiment. It’s a shame you’re the one competing. I’d pay double to see Vilivian make him suffer.’

Piano could hardly hold back anger anymore. That hostility towards her brother was exhausting. She could understand and she wished people looked at him from her perspective. She wanted to make amends to Angelique, but so long as their feelings on Forte conflicted there wasn’t much for her to do.

She stood up leaving her cold cocoa half-empty.

‘I don’t believe there’s anything else for us to discuss.’

‘There never was.’

Piano left frustrated even more so than before. So much for a relaxing mug of cocoa. She thought of simply going back to her room and retiring for the day, but she didn’t want to confront Forte. Few people followed her out, but she quickly lost them moving through alleyways and taking quick turns.

It’s all so tiresome, she thought. She stood in a dark alleyway watching the residents turning in for the night as the sun was almost set.

Her victories and talents. They all seemed so hollow, now. The anger and grief directed at her brother ricocheted and struck her instead. Between Angelique and Vilivian, how many people should she feel responsible for? How many wounds has her bias cause? She always considered hers and Forte’s abilities as means of preservation; to be an invasive but necessary process toward a greater cause, but what worth were they, really?

Was the way she utilized the talents she stole truly the extension of their potential? Or was she merely imitating those who perfected them with their honed wisdom? Could she truly shine better than her victims who were bolstered by their experience? How much of what Forte learns truly serves the greater good if there are people who spite him afterwards? Is it worth it?

‘How are you doing?’

She turned back to see a familiar youth standing behind her in an alley.

Her today’s adversary – Quan – was standing with a cheery grin on his face. He waved happily. He was wearing baggy pants that were torn at knees and just a sleeveless puffer jacket on his torso.

‘Hello, Quan, I’m . . . Doing okay, how are you? Your wounds . . .’

‘Healed. People here know their stuff.’

‘And they even gave you a new jacket . . .’ She looked him over.

‘Gave? Sure, let’s go with that.’ He chuckled. ‘So, what you’re up to, Piano? Looking for trouble or hiding from trouble? I could use some of that latter.’

‘No, I’m just . . . resting.’ She admitted and leaned on the wall.

‘Wack. Let me get some of that, too.’ He said coolly and leaned on an opposite wall. Something squished and he crossed his arms and stood upright instead. ‘So, get this, Piano. Couple alleys away there’s this bar named “Losers’ Bracket” and I thought to myself “Perfect”, because I like some of that good irony. I go in, order some milk, drink it up, and it turns out you can’t take it on tab and that’s just a downright downgrade from the Fox Den, ain’t it?’

‘So, you ran away from paying.’

‘No. Of course not. Well, not exactly . . . Okay, I didn’t want to pay, but not because I’m a penny pincher that won’t pay for a glass of milk it’s just don’t have any money and I wanted some milk.’ He frowned. ‘You alright, Piano? You don’t look too good.’

‘I’m fine.’ She lied and then immediately came clean. ‘I’m not. I’m scared. Or anxious. Or both.’

Quan nodded seriously and put his hands in his pockets.

‘Yeah, I’d be too if I were fighting Vilivian tomorrow. I’m glad I lost the semi-final.’

She looked at him in shock.

‘You are?’

‘Have you seen her fights, Piano? I would get my shit ROCKED if I got through. No joke, she’d kill me with her glare five seconds into the match, you know?’

‘. . . It’s weird.’

‘My self-preservation instinct?’

‘You lost your chance at wish. I’ve hurt you and you gained nothing in return.’

‘What are you talking about? I got these awesome scars!’ he unzipped his jacket and showed his scars. Piano winced. ‘It would’ve looked much cooler if I had few more on the front, but you know, it’s all good.’

‘Is that really not a concern to you?’ Piano turned away until Quan closed his jacket.

‘I’m a fast healer, Piano. Besides, you don’t join a tournament without expecting to get hurt even a little.’

‘You still wouldn’t fight Vilivian.’

‘The odds aren’t really in my favour even if I played the hit’n’run game. Chicks like her have experience and the only thing attracted to me are rats. I wouldn’t have to worry about good night’s sleep, though it’d be pushing it if I said it would help my chances.’

Piano looked down in shame.

‘I’m sorry about that. You may have stood a better chance if you were rested. My brother may have cheated you out of victory.’

‘Played, certainly, but hardly cheated! I’m not a saint myself, Piano, I’d say he got me fair and square all things considered.’

‘Others don’t seem to view that way.’

‘Nah, I wouldn’t think so. He’s going to get himself killed if you don’t watch out for him, though.’

‘And how should I do that?’ she asked seriously.

Quan shrugged. ‘I dunno. Beat Vilivian before your brother does something stupid? You have to relax, Piano.’

‘I can’t relax!’ she exclaimed frustrated. ‘I can’t take a walk; I can’t drink at any bar. Everyone’s treating me like some sort of idol! It’s too much!’

‘Well,’ Quan said after a while. ‘There is a spot . . .’

***

Sun drowned in the dark clouds setting in the horizon. Day was coming to an end and the residential area of the town had bustled, with people preparing to rest before the final day of the tournament. Vilivian walked these streets without any care for the citizens’ dismay towards her. She was lost in her thoughts, hardly paying attention to where she was as her legs were simply given command to “walk away”.

The keepsake was strung on her back, but no one would be stupid enough to try Vilivian’s patience as they even moved to sides when she walked.

Compassion and consideration were never her strong suits. She was a Matriarch. The very perversion of those emotions.

She wallowed in her immortality blind to the fact that she wanted to impose the very same thing to the person she held the dearest. If such feeling was real.

Ever since coming to Crossroads she changed; with her speech patterns trivialized and her demeanour softened she thought that her humanity would be accepted. Alas, the truth was the opposite.

Was the hate she received justified? Was the change in her character merely a play; was the ability to mimic human behaviour and habits that is attributed to Matriarchs the reason she found herself content in this place? Was she truly changing, embracing her human nature or was she merely biding her time, much like her violent sisters, to spring a trap and devour her victims in a brutal fashion so distinctive to her kind?

She considered herself above every other member of her race. She outlived most if not all and her honour and duty made her believe to be much more than just a vile monster, but wouldn’t her violent habits overrule such notions? Things like honour, mercy found had place during a bloodbath; and though being spared by her Friend showed that there may be the place for that, was it really a good course of action? What guarantee was there that she wouldn’t become an unshackled beast, left free to prey on the innocent?

Despite her calmness, Vilivian had to strain herself to ignore such abundance of people. Their fears and anxieties, passions and desires reflected on her and fuelled her instincts. And no matter how hard she tried she couldn’t stop herself from getting giddy from sensing Piano’s blood.

Why did she start calling her Blackblood? It was a moniker for a naïve tale the passive Matriarchs told themselves off about a representative of their kind that would lead them from hiding into the conquest of the wide world.

Was it because she wanted to remain respectful to the symbolism of her race? Or was it a desperate attempt to clutch onto her true nature.

Was the wish to bring back Arthur truly what she desired? Or was she merely paying heed to the “Honourable Matriarch” she envisioned herself as? Would she cause him gladness, or would she sentence him to the life in the world he doesn’t recognize anymore?

Wouldn’t it be better for her to get rid of her beastly instinct and fully commit to the humanity she so desperately tries to imitate?

She stopped in the gate atop of the stairs going down towards the docks. A very familiar spot, she turned her head to the mural painted on the wall nearby.

An artistic talent was showcased wonderfully in the picture of a village at the night-time. It was that very image that caused her memories to resurface - the memories and regret of possessing such volatile nature which was later proved and exploited by the Blackblood’s twin brother.

She looked closer at the mural. It was as beautiful as it was, and still retained the shape of a man dented into it. She noticed a figure sitting down by it.

‘Volley?’ she said in surprise as she approached the boy – the very author of this image.

The oni looked up with a spent expression on his face. He mustered a smile and looked at her. There was a crate sitting next to him.

‘Oh. Good afternoon, Miss Vilivian!’ as he raised his head, she noticed it was bruised.

‘It’s evening. Stars above, Child, what happened to you?’

‘Ah, this? Yeah, there was some guy slandering you in the plaza. I stole this box, he was standing on it to look taller than he is, and then, uh, well . . .’

‘He did this to you?’ Vilivian gasped out bitterly.

‘What? No! He chased me, but I couldn’t see the bloody staircase and I fell down several flights . . . Well, at least I lost him. Are you okay, Miss Viliv?’

She sat down next to him.

‘I feel awful.’ She answered.

‘Aye, that was a stupid question. I’m sorry, Miss Vilivian.’

‘It doesn’t bother me, Volley. My reputation is the least of my concerns.’

‘I’ll come cheer you on tomorrow, OK, Miss Vilivian? I’ll be yelling the loudest out of them, no matter how much they try to outperform me!’

‘Thank you.’ She smiled faintly but it quickly disappeared.

‘Miss Viliv?’ Volley’s voice was quiet, full of concern.

Vilivian frowned.

‘I don’t know what to do, Volley. Should I attain victory tomorrow, I will be able to ask Trickster of any wish I desire.’

‘You want to bring back your friend back to life, right? Or has something changed . . .?’

‘I’m scared.’ She admitted. ‘I thought that humans cherished their lives to the point they would risk attaining immortality. That’s how most of the challengers I faced acted. They had families, kingdoms, friends . . . but they would come seeking what I understand is perceived as a fairy tale in my world. But he lived his life fully and I understand that the reason he left me his sword was because he was content with leaving the mortal plane. I’m scared that if I bring him back, he’ll turn it away. He’ll shun me for bringing him back to the world there is nothing waiting for him anymore.’

Volley put his hands between his knees and curled up as he listened.

‘It’s difficult to keep suppressing my instinct. To keep being civil and calm. I am content being friends with you, your aunt and Wendy. To just pass time amongst people who aren’t afraid of me. But the only time I feel like myself is when I’m fighting. When I’m being a Matriarch . . . I’m scared of realizing that those feelings may be fake – an aftereffect of some instinct that compels me to camouflage myself as a human.’ She took a deep breath. ‘I keep wondering if that side of me was gone. If I were to stop being a Matriarch and was just . . . Vilivian. Then, I think I could finally realize what I really am.’

It was first time since she’s met him that Vilivian saw Volley carry such a judgemental look on his face.

‘Don’t you have a promise to keep?’

Her eyes widened in surprise.

‘Miss Vilivian that I got to know keeps her word. She is trustworthy and proud of her heritage. I don’t understand why you would think that ridding yourself of that part of you would do you any good.’

‘Because I can’t live among humans otherwise. Volley, Matriarchs are—’

‘You know what, Miss Viliv? I keep hearing about how terrible Matriarchs are. How vicious and bloodthirsty of a species are you, but honestly, not once have I seen you prove those rumours right. You can be ruthless, yes, but you were never cruel! I find you constantly composed!’

‘I restrain myself. The day I met you I nearly lost control—’

‘You got angry! So, what? I get angry all the time! When there’s beans in my food, when I tug my shirt on a door handle, how stupid the people cheered on you dying during our fight were. And the same people are now flocking to ignorance because it smells familiar!’ His expression turned spiteful for a moment, but then relaxed as he looked at her. ‘If you became a human, Miss Vilivian, then you wouldn’t be yourself, but somebody completely different. It’s just,’ he made a pained expression. ‘There’s nothing wrong with being who you are, right?’

She turned her gaze away from him and pondered.

‘I never took other people into consideration. I’m inclined to lose some parts of myself if it means I’ll never have to hurt anyone needlessly.’ She scoffed weakly. ‘I’m not even sure if that’s what I really feel like.’

‘You do!’ Volley stood up. ‘And I believe that. But you must believe in yourself, Miss Viliv! You can change! What’s all that time for if you’re not going to put it to good use? You don’t need a wish to become a better person; all you have to do is to try. And if your friend is really as great as you described him then I’m sure he’ll be fine being alive again.’

‘He’ll be alone.’ She lamented.

‘What? Do you intend to drop dead the moment you make a wish? There’ll be a whole world for the both of you explore! A new time! Doesn’t that sound like a grand adventure?’

‘Well . . .’

He grabbed her hands and helped her stand up.

‘You need to relax, Miss Viliv. All that stress and overthinking isn’t going to help you in tomorrow’s fight. Better get to it with clear head, I know what I’m saying, let me tell you. Follow me. I know where you can rest without any interruption or hindrance from those zealous buggers.’

***

The night had already set by the time Piano got into the hot spring that was the part of the inn she stayed at. It was a small, enclosed area, partitioned off by tall wooden fences. Water poured from in-between the grey stones surrounding the bath. Moon illuminated the open-air bath as the breeze rustled the trees planted around.

Piano shivered and submerged herself in the water up to her neck. Her hair was tied into up and a towel rested on her head. She felt her anxiety evaporate as she was soothed by the warmth. Following Quan’s recommendation paid off even, though his interest was to raid the inn’s pantry while she bothered the staff to let her use the baths.

Nonetheless, it was a nice change of pace. Here, she could relax before the final fight. Gather her thoughts and go into tomorrow with a clear head. She breathed a sigh of relief.

Then the door slid open and Vilivian entered the area. Were Piano completely indecent she would’ve climbed up the fence and ran away. Instead, she nodded her head slightly, trying to hide her nervousness albeit pointlessly.

‘Vilivian.’

‘Blackblood.’ The Matriarch answered with a nod of her own. Her hair was relatively bunched up atop her head, but it looked to be soon coming down once she got into water.

She was holding a towel in her right hand and calmly entered the spring, moving next to Piano whilst throwing the towel on the side. After few seconds in her red hair let loose and fallen gently into the water. She relaxed almost immediately. Piano wondered if it was due to the spring or because nobody bothered Vilivian about the dress code here.

Vilivian closed her eyes and breathed out.

They sat in complete silence, interrupted only by the buzz of waking nature’s night life.

Piano took that opportunity to look over her opponent. Such small but well-toned build, no visible scars despite her age and despite being naked and relaxed she could sense she still had her guard up. To some extent, that flattered Piano.

‘Nervous?’ Vilivian asked suddenly.

Piano turned her head. Her neighbour opened her eyes and looked at her. Piano turned away again, shyly.

‘It’s not like I have to tell you.’

‘I was being courteous.’

‘How dignified.’

‘It is written all over your face, by the way.’

‘I’m anxious.’ She snapped. ‘Fearful, maybe. Today’s been strangely long.’

Vilivian closed her eyes again and leaned back her head.

‘You’re concerned and uncertain. A little agitated but that may be because of me. Not fearful, though. It’s different from how you were yesterday. Resolute. Determined. What changed?’

‘Why is that your concern now?’

‘I’ve been looking forward to our fight for quite a while, Blackblood. I would rather face you at your best. Besides, if you’re here with your concerns that means you haven’t talked with your brother about them. This may be your only chance to address your troubles.’

‘You threatened my brother.’

‘Everybody gets one. As you well know.’

Piano nodded begrudgingly. In the first encounter with Vilivian they were both attacked by a few alley goons right after the Matriarch gave them a very clear warning. Apparently, the Crossguard realized that cause of death of those who ignore it should be considered as a “suicide”.

‘It’s because of you.’ Piano confessed.

‘Me?’ Vilivian raised her head and looked, surprised.

‘I was determined before and after my fight with Quan. I radiated confidence. But after I saw you fight, I started having doubts. I started researching your people. Your habits, weaknesses, abilities. As you saw, results were less than satisfactory.’

‘What did I do?’

‘It’s just . . . All worked out way too good for you, you know?’ Piano smiled wryly and looked at her. ‘All the setbacks you encountered were basically self-inflicted; you hardly struggled when fighting Volley and Pembrooke. Your victories were ultimately decisive and even if I managed to gain an upper hand at some point there’s still that blasted transformation of yours that seems to throw all the enemy advantages to the side.’

‘I—’

‘I was confident. I was resolved to meet your expectations, but then,’ Piano took a deep breath. She was getting unnecessarily heated. ‘You threatened my brother. And that made me realize my wish. I want to protect him. My only family. But different kinds of doubts raised in my mind. Would I able to stop you if you focused on him? What would I do if I were in danger, and he came to my rescue and got hurt in the process? How can I be certain that whatever he may plan on doing doesn’t backfire terribly? You have a powerful resolve, Vilivian, and I don’t know if I can match it with my skills.’

Vilivian waited for a moment. She looked up into the sky and finally said:

‘I’m one thousand one hundred sixty-two years old. I spent all those years in seclusion of sanctuary, protecting the artefact from those who would want to obtain it. I fought and killed warlords, kings, knights, rogues, and mages. I had no means of retreating, and no means of surrender as my pride would not allow it. Every fight could’ve been my last and I had to learn, to adapt. My exposure to the outside world was limited to those encounters. At one point, I went centuries without transforming because no one could stand to challenge me. Until I was about five hundred years old when I suffered my first defeat. Would you like to know how I lost?’

Piano nodded.

‘I made a mistake.’ Vilivian smiled and even chuckled. ‘He feinted a low cut but struck low and had me carved up neck down, off with my shoulder completely.’ She drew a line with her finger on her body. ‘I would’ve bled out had he not fed me his own blood allowing me to heal myself. Which means that the only reason I’m here is because I got lucky. Lucky, that the person who nearly killed me saw as more than the monster I am.’ She grimaced, and for a second Piano thought Vilivian was going to start crying. ‘I went centuries undefeated. And then the man that had beaten me perished himself.’ She lowered her head. ‘Nobody is impervious.’

‘The man that bested you . . . Is he why . . .?’

‘That was the initial idea. Now, I fear he may reject me if I brought him back. And that would mean returning to the prison I spent millennium in.’

‘Why must you?’

‘Because what else should I do? Suicide? Or trying to integrate into society as a human?’

‘Would that be so difficult?’ Piano asked.

‘All it takes is one moment of intense stress. A slight lapse in my ability is enough for my instincts to take over. Then it’s just . . . red.’

‘It can’t be easy.’

‘It isn’t. Your brother took an advantage of that.’

Piano bit her lip and looked away in shame. Noise stopped and the air was filled with the metallic clang of sudden silence. Two women just sat there as if they weren’t going to tear each other apart tomorrow. They both hated how their minds worked. One of them should probably leave the room and slam the door as a sign of disapproving argument, but she was too shy to do that, and they just sat there giving the situation one more chance to be resolved on somewhat peaceful terms.

‘I know you don’t believe it now, but you already possess all the skills you need to prove that you can protect your brother.’

Piano smiled cheekily.

‘Is that supposed to be up-lifting?’

Vilivian frowned slightly distraught.

‘I find empathy to not be my strongest suit.’

‘I appreciate the thought. You know, I’m a good learner . . . I pride myself in a fact that I possess a lot of talents, but I don’t know if they’ll be of any use.’

‘Back up your gifts with your experience. Talent is good motivator, but without practice they will get you only so far.’

‘Speaking from your own circumstances?’

‘I killed many talented people.’

‘Say, what qualities of a Blackblood do I have? Aside from my blood being what it is?’

‘I don’t know.’ Vilivian answered deadpan.

‘You don’t?

Matriarch shrugged.

‘At first it may have been my instinct. As I said, the name has different meaning depending on the clan. Mine believed Blackblood to be the fate-defying leader of great prowess, whose blood burned with rage and vice.’ Vilivian looked at her with awe. ‘It’s a title of respect.’

Piano nodded.

‘I respect you, too, Vilivian.’

‘I appreciate it.’

They sat in silence for some time. Then, in silence, each of them left without uttering as much as a word of good luck – for they realized that skill, not luck, will bring about the culmination of their duel.

Or so they presume.

***

The skies above Crossroads were grey with rain clouds. Despite that, the gates of Cross Colosseum were swarmed with people carrying raincoats and umbrellas.

The attendance was the tournament’s highest. Nearly all of Crossroads intended to watch the final fight between Piano and Vilivian be it on stands or on one of the jumbotrons placed outside the arena.

Just as ubiquitous as the attendance was the spectators’ favour towards Piano. There were those who admired Vilivian and intended to cheer for her although they were in relative minority.

Wearing a red jacket and a black hat, Vito was in the front of the queue to the beer stand inside the arena. He rubbed his hands as he approached the seller.

‘Give me twelve of those, boss.’ he ordered.

The seller poured twelve cups, each containing less than half a litre of beer and put them in a carrier. Vito paid and already reached and downed one of the cups.

The beer was expensive, awful, and watered down, but that’s why he bought twelve cups and HE WAS going to get his fix. He finished, belched, and threw the empty cup away.

‘Starting out strong, eh?’

‘Fuck!’ he yelled out in surprise.

Vito turned towards tall, red-skinned stranger in a black coat. He was wearing black-rimmed glasses and had a friendly smile on his face.

‘Who’re you?’

‘Apologies for the scare, good man! I go by Bandoneon. Might I have your name?’

‘What’s it to you?’ Vito asked suspiciously.

‘I’m a writer! Traveling journalist! Take your pick, friend.’ Bandoneon pulled out a small journal and a pen. ‘Am I to understand that you’re responsible for the movement supporting the efforts of contestant Piano?’

‘Aye!’ Vito unzipped his jacket and showed his shirt with Piano’s visage on it. ‘That’d be me!’

‘My, my! I have heard great things about you, friend! Are you alone in your endeavour?’

‘Nay!’ He spun around showing the people, mainly pointing at the queue to the beer stand. ‘We’re all here because we support Lady Piano! Two dozen good lads and ladies and some things I don’t entirely understand, but I don’t judge, you know. Any fan of Piano’s is a friend of mine and all that stuff.’

‘Such following! Such heart! May I have your name, then?’

‘Eh . . .’ Vito said uncertain. The journalist was cheerful. Too cheerful. The kind of cheerfulness that was kind of vague that sober men should learn to dread. But Vito wasn’t sober.

‘Friend, I believe you’re making history! You’ll be the star of my article! Please, friend, do it for me!’ Bandoneon insisted.

Vito hesitated but eventually gave up. ‘Aight, mate. Name’s Vito. Remember that name!’

‘Oh, I most definitely shall!’ Bandoneon chuckled as he wrote Vito’s name in his notebook. ‘And what, if I may ask, are your thoughts on contestant Vilivian?’

‘Wretch and a loser. Not worth facing off against Lady Piano!’

‘Such passion! You’re assured of her victory, but what will you do otherwise?’

‘Won’t happen. Not with our cheering. Not with our support. Piano’s too powerful, see?’

‘Well, but there’s always that chance, isn’t there?’

‘Listen, Brandon . . .’

‘Bandoneon.’

‘Lady Piano’s the most graceful there is. She’s the Empress of Eloquence, the Mistress of Morality, the Princess of Passion, the Duchess of Domination, the—’

‘I get it.’

‘Ain’t no way in hell she loses to that she-beast Vilivian, you get it? There’s just too big of a difference in class. Too grand of a gap in their levels. Lady Piano can do everything and Vilivian can do . . . much less. We’re going to support Lady Piano in any way we can. And I mean any way.’ He patted his holster.

‘Goodness! And how will you handle the Crossguard? The God Eater herself?’

Vito grimaced heavily.

‘Pah! It’s clear that the God Eater’s losing a grip on her town. Why else would she invite something like Vilivian to her tournament? She’s padding the tournament with rubbish and the good people, like Pembrooke, suffer as a consequence! She’s a monster, both of ‘em! Hear, hear!’ Vito shouted suddenly. He walked up to an empty crate lying nearby and stood up on it.

He called people to hither around him and they did – few dozens of them, more than Bandoneon expected and much more than Vito expected. Nonetheless, he took a cup in his hand, as if readying a toast, and spoke:

‘Ruin is upon us, comrades! And only the flame of passion carried by Lady Piano can save us from the darkness spread by the plague-bearing demonic fiend that goes by Vilivian!’ he spit on the floor. ‘She may have the strength and endurance, but it’s our support that will bring glory to Lady Piano! We shall proudly gaze from the stands of the arena; we will be watchful for any foul play the demon may put into practice! We shall show the God Eater and her lackeys, fattened by decadence and luxury, that we – the people – are the hope and the future of Crossroads!’ he downed the cup in one go. ‘Walk with me! Let’s show the true spirit of Truth! Freedom! Justice! Hurrah!’

The crowd cheered twice as loud, and the few dozen went towards the stands. Vito stepped of the box and looked at Bandoneon who was slowly clapping, with a flabbergasted expression. Vito showed him thumbs up and followed his fellow compatriots.

‘This is amazing.’

Forte stopped clapping and let out a hearty chuckle of disbelief. It was obvious to him from the very beginning that knowing how to operate a doorknob was enough to be considered savvy in Crossroads, but this was incredible. He didn’t have to resort to any tricks or convincing. These idiots talked themselves into their crusade against Vilivian by themselves and fuelled it with alcohol.

He checked his notebook. He didn’t even have to write Vito’s name. That cretin’s face was an open book, albeit banned in several countries. His hatred and zealotry stemmed from his disdain for the Crossroads’ deity more than towards Vilivian’s demonic nature.

No matter. It was less work for him. He now regretted not waking up early enough to wish his sister good luck.

She was already asleep by the time he returned from Fox Den day prior. And this morning, she was already gone along with some of their money.

Nonetheless, he was confident he could enjoy himself today. Everybody deserves a day of, right? He smiled in spirit as he walked towards the stands.

***

Nephros yawned. He was sitting in front of the table in his smithy as Piano walked in.

‘Is it ready?’ she asked. Nephros pointed his crab hand at the blade resting in a black scabbard on the white cloth on the table.

‘See for yourself. A colichemarde. Blade is thirty-two inches carbon steel plated in silver brought from Vilivian’s home world. Steel, oval grip, wrapped with wood should make for easy handling even if it gets wet, bloody, or otherwise. The pommel and guard are steel, simple as.’

Piano put a sack of coins on the table and unsheathed the rapier. The blade was fully white, but no light reflected from it.

‘So, pure . . . It’s silver?’

‘Yes. Might be some strange variant due to all the weird stuff in her world. I thought using it would make it easier to cut through that demonic hide of hers.’ He started counting the coins. ‘I also wanted to use absite – a unique ore that exists in her world. Apparently, it’s used in smithing and construction in her world, but the bloody thing’s one of the very few things prohibited to import.’

‘Why is that?’

‘“Hazardous to the environment and the people.” Which is funny considering half the population is just that. When I asked Vilivian if she knew she just told me that the unpredictability and instability of raw magic is too dangerous to handle and . . .’ he waved hand. ‘Bleh.’

Piano slashed the air few times. She looked at the blade uncertain.

‘Do you mind if I sharpen it?’

‘I already did, but . . . it’s all yours.’

‘Thank you.’ Piano instead picked up a file and sharpened her rapier. She went at it for few minutes before she looked at it.

‘You done?’ Nephros asked.

‘Not quite.’ She reached to her pocket and took out a silk handkerchief. She very precisely made sure to sharpen the edges by almost cutting it in half. Nephros looked up curiously when she was done.

Piano slashed the air once more and was still not satisfied. She looked around the shop and then went to the corner. She started picking up cobweb.

‘Now, you’re just pretentious.’ he commented.

She rubbed the webs on the blade. She did so for a full minute before she was done.

She swung twice in the air.

‘Come now, there’s no way it’s going to/ /better.’

/cut any/

He went silent.

She swung again.

‘What/ /the/ /damn?’/

/in/ /god/

She smiled satisfied.

‘Now, it’s sharp.’ She put it back in the scabbard and fastened it to her right side. ‘Is the money sufficient?’

Nephros blinked twice.

‘Yeah. It is.’ He quickly returned to his usual deadpan self.

‘Then I’ll be off.’

She exited the smithy and took a deep breath. She looked up to the sky.

‘It’s going to rain.’

She turned her towards the arena and headed there. She couldn’t be more equipped than she was now. Armed with new-found confidence, perhaps spawned by Vilivian’s words day prior, or maybe due to the fact that she couldn’t avoid the inevitable anymore.

A devil-blade for Vilivian’s human half, and the silver blade for the monstrous one. It was almost poetic. In addition, she’s equipped with a set of six silver knives hidden throughout her body. Just in case.

And, of course, the rejuvenation stone she got from her brother. Hopefully, she won’t have to use it, but she wanted it more as a “good luck” charm more than anything.

The approach to the arena was much denser with people, but it’s not like the whole town was eager to watch two women fight each other. It was certainly the attraction of the year – but there were still those who didn’t care much for it. Piano still saw families and small groups of people hanging out and treating the day as usual.

Still, she was astonished to see so many people in front of the arena cheering on her as she approached the entrance. The Crossguard had to hold back some of the spectators.

On that note, Piano noticed that despite much larger attendance the number of guards stayed the same as day before if not decreased.

She shook her head. No more distractions. No more doubt. She entered the dark corridor, waiting to be announced.

***

‘Hello, Crossroads!’

The Colosseum erupted in loud cheer following X’s call. The announcer was wearing a cute, pink raincoat as she flew above the arena.

The stands were brimming with people wearing raincoats. Some spectators spelled out Piano’s name with coloured plates. There were few eager fans of Vilivian and naturally the God Eater in her own private sector. Dully swirling her wine, waiting for the fight to begin.

‘This is the day we’ve all been waiting for, oh, so patiently! And finally, after two days of awesome fights and incredible stakes we are at the penultimate stage of the Cross Tournament! You all know what’s coming after the next two announcements. The weather may be damp, but we’re all burning hot with anticipation for the final encounter of the tournament! The Silent Shadow against the Matriarch! Devil versus Demon! Ladies and Gentlemen, please welcome our contestants – Piano and Vilivian!’

They entered the arena from two opposite sides. There were cheers and jeers, the latter directed towards Vilivian, but they were quickly subdued by the sheer fanbase of Piano’s.

They met at the middle and as she did in the first round, Vilivian pierced the sheath of her keepsake into the ground.

‘You took it with you today?’ Piano asked.

‘I couldn’t find Volley all morning,’ Vilivian looked at the stands. ‘I hope I hadn’t slighted him somehow.’

X’s voice resounded.

‘What is going to be their wish? What is it that they’re fighting for?! We’re all about to learn and you know what? Today’s arena doesn’t change! No more deserts! No more sewers! Today, our contestants will rely on their own abilities and resourcefulness!’

An open fight with Vilivian wasn’t exactly what Piano envisioned in today’s fight. She had hoped for some nice advantage coming from the change of environment. Nonetheless, she was confident in her own ability to improvise.

‘And now, without further ado, let us begin the final of the Cross Tournament! Begin!’

X’s voice quieted down and all that remained was the hubbub in the stands. Women stared at each other.

‘You appear to be more confident than yesterday.’ Vilivian noticed.

‘Indeed,’ Piano admitted. ‘Perhaps it’s the talk we had yesterday. Or maybe it was just a stage-fright, as seldom as they happen. You look awfully pleased as well.’

‘I reckon I should start enjoying the moments more. No point worrying about the future until it happens, right?’

‘Indeed.’

Both women smiled warmly.

Vilivian brushed some of her hair to the side and clenched her fists.

‘Shall we begin?’

‘May I?’

‘After you.’

Piano readied her fists as well. She put her left foot behind. She then put her right even further behind. On the third step, Piano turned around fully and sprinted towards the exit to the town.

The Colosseum went silent in astonishment as they saw Piano leave. Only the God Eater herself was barely holding in the laughter.

And it was Vilivian’s laughter that broke that silence. She grabbed the keepsake and tied it to her back.

‘You’re wise beyond your years, Blackblood!’

With a brisk walk she followed Piano out of the arena.

The arena remained stupefied.

‘Ladies?’ X said in a confused voice. ‘What about the tournament?’

***

Piano exited the colosseum and quickly scouted her surroundings. She felt Vilivian’s ki approaching dangerously fast.

It was the gate of the Golden Fox that brought her attention. It was on the other end of the long street, but she had an inkling – an idea to gain an advantage over Vilivian and it was on that plaza.

She ran up to the beer stand and jumped up on its frail roof. From there she climbed onto the roof of the taller building.

The tiles were wet and angled; she had to focus to not fall. She turned around and saw Vilivian emerging outside. The Matriarch looked up and smiled slyly.

Piano wasted no time in moving through from one end of the roof to the other. She stepped carefully as Vilivian observed and followed from below.

She leaped to another building. A tile slid off, and Piano barely held on.

‘Bloody heels!’ she cursed as she gathered up and continued moving swiftly. She had to sacrifice speed to maintain the safety should she fall off.

‘My sisters would often tell tales of the thrilling chases they experienced while hunting their prey.’ Vilivian spoke loudly from below as Piano continued moving. ‘I wonder how many of them died in an ambush. Would they fall to you? Will I?’

There was a chant in those last syllables and Piano noticed blue light enveloping the tiles in front of her. They exploded violently, throwing debris in her face, but in one swift motion she dexterously avoided the attack and leaped to the next roof. Her moves were cat-like, except she didn’t spray urine at every other wall.

It’s exactly an ambush, Piano thought. More of a change of scenery.

She finally reached her destination and took a turn to the roof of a bakery that went parallel to the slaughterhouse the heckler was standing under the day before.

She jumped off onto the street and backed away towards the door inside; she watched the turn, expecting Vilivian to appear suddenly. And as her back touched the metal door to the building, the Matriarch appeared, destroying the corner of the bakery, and picking up a brick she immediately threw at Piano.

She ducked and elbowed open the metal door and ran inside as the brick shattered above her head.

Vilivian entered the slaughterhouse after her opponent. As she passed the threshold her senses were immediately overtaken by the intense smell of blood and death. She walked forward, but the building was in complete darkness – it was out of use for today. There were few windows near the high ceiling, but they didn’t illuminate much, nor did the open door.

‘Clever,’ she said. ‘Trying to disorient my senses while also staying hidden. I understand there’s no means of convincing you to come out into the view?’

‘The first rule of subterfuge,’ Piano’s voice echoed. ‘Is to shy away from the light.’

‘Then I’ll bring the light to you.’ Vilivian’s arms lit up with blue light. A flame appeared above her palms. She threw the first towards one edge of the large rectangular room and the second to the other.

Flames sparked something a lot as they travelled and when they exploded so did a now visible machinery. The flesh of the carrion lit up; the dust exploded. Floor, crates, and tools susceptible to flames burned relentlessly and now most of the building was visible to Vilivian.

She readied another flame but was struck into the shoulder with a blade. Her veins ached as silver dug into the magic, but Vilivian pulled it out quickly and tossed the fireball towards the direction the knife was thrown from.

High above, the flame illuminated Piano’s silhouette that dodged the flame that struck the office at the end of a long metal walkway that went along the wall near the ceiling.

‘I see you.’ Vilivian said and noticed the metal staircase leading up to her.

She climbed as fire spread on the ground floor. She didn’t take her eyes off from her.

Piano didn’t just stand waiting. She tossed two more knives Vilivian’s way, both of which the Matriarch scarcely evaded. Annoyed, she tore out a piece of railing and tossed it as a makeshift spear. Piano ducked, backing away towards the office. Vilivian continued to climb and readied another fireball she tossed towards the office. The bricks collapsed and flames spread inside. Piano stopped and turned around.

Vilivian climbed onto the bridge and with malicious intent she started approaching Piano.

‘No more running.’

‘I’ll take a five.’ Piano grabbed the left hilt with her right hand.

On the approach, Vilivian raised her left arm and chanted:

‘Shatter.’

Wall next to Piano exploded, sudden daylight distracting her, and allowing Vilivian to close the gap. Just barely, Piano managed to slash upwards straight out of her scabbard. Vilivian evaded as the blood splattered and ate through metal and masonry. She grabbed Piano’s sword hand and launched her fist at her, but it was caught by Piano’s other hand.

Piano immediately pulled Matriarch onto herself and headbutted her; Vilivian was concussed and shocked to find so much strength in that strike.

She let go of the Blackblood and was put on backfoot, retreating towards the staircase as Piano slashed at her with her short weapon.

‘Perhaps it’s about time to use that blade of yours!’

‘It’s not mine to wield!’

Vilivian’s arms lit up. Flame appeared in her right hand which she threw from below, whilst her left pulled the bricks from the wall onto Piano. She blocked the fireball with her blade; the explosion was tiny, burning her clothes ever so slightly, but the falling debris caused her to lose balance. Seeing the approaching Matriarch forced her to slash on a cumbersome angle.

But they were both stopped dead in tracks as the walkway swayed and creaked. It was supported by steel beams, but the floor they were placed on was burning down – the whole bridge was on a time limit.

They both realized this.

‘Break!’ Vilivian chanted immediately and the ceiling would’ve fallen on Piano had she not dashed blade-first ready to thrust.

Vilivian tried to duck underneath the coming blade but Piano read her like a book. She feigned a strike and instead Vilivian was met with a knee to the face.

She grabbed Vilivian’s braid and pushed her onto the railing and stabbed her face. Matriarch barely managed to stop the blade with her hands. She wrestled Piano, trying to turn her blade against her.

Piano reinforced her strength with ki, but Vilivian still just barely managed to turn the blade against the aggressor. It was halfway turned towards Piano’s neck when the walkway trembled heavily. They both lost balance. Vilivian collapsed on all fours letting go of the blade. Piano held onto it but was pushed back against the wall.

The support wouldn’t hold out much longer. It was Piano’s cue. She ran towards the hole in the wall Vilivian made and escaped.

Vilivian tried to follow her, but the beams collapsed, and she fell along with them into the flames.

Piano jumped into a lush greenery of bushes in a small alley between the slaughterhouse and a tailor shop. She looked up. Dark smoke was leaving from the holes Vilivian made with her magic. The skies were dark, she noticed and a slight drizzle seemed to be coming down.

Piano sheathed her crimson ninjato and breathed out. She didn’t realize she was getting suffocated towards the end there. She moved around the building and returned to the plaza.

Cheers erupted when she came into view. On the main street and in the little alleys, in the windows of houses and shops people were watching and cheering for her. They were not in the slightest concerned with the burning building right in front of them.

She turned around in the middle of a plaza and looked at the slaughterhouse. Were the flames capable of defeating a Matriarch?

‘The Matriarch’s fallen! Long live Lady Piano!’ she heard a familiar drunken voice. ‘Hip-hip—’

Suddenly, the wall broke down and along with smoke and flames exited Vilivian.

The cheers quieted down, and Piano smiled slightly. I wouldn’t think so, she thought.

Aside from a few scorches on her clothes, Vilivian was seemingly without any serious injury.

‘I saw you fall into flames. How are you so pristine?’

Vilivian spread her arms slightly and they lit up with blue light. A translucent barrier surrounded her.

‘It will falter against any above-average attack, but it’s effective against flames.’ The barrier disappeared. ‘Were you hoping for an easy win?’

‘Victory is a victory, though it would be a little anticlimactic should you perish in a self-inflicted fire. Were you at least satisfied with our little skirmish?’

‘It was a sufficient enough warm-up, but I am hungry for more. Shall we continue, or will you run again?’

‘I merely wanted to gain an upper hand by luring you into an environment you had no experience fighting within. You’ve proven yourself more than capable of turning the tide, even if for a rather chaotic outcome.’

‘I didn’t mean it to explode if that’s what you mean.’

‘I believe it. In any case, I don’t suppose you’ll allow me to escape again?’

‘A correct assessment.’

‘You won’t mind if I get serious, then?’

‘By all means.’ She took a stance.

Piano unsheathed her ninjato and held it low in her right hand.

In but blink of an eye she approached Vilivian, catching her off guard and by feigning an upward slash threw her blade high into the air.

Matriarch was unsure whether to follow the blade's owner and she instead chanted a barrier while Piano reached for her rapier and immediately slashed at the arcane shield.

The silver and magic clashed, a loud metallic sound erupted in the plaza and the spell was broken. Vilivian watched in astonishment as then, Piano performed a somersault and kicked the now falling ninjato straight into Vilivian’s shoulder.

She screamed as the blade sank and burned her from inside; pain comparable to the scorching of a silver and before she could fully register what happened, Piano was already near her to pull out the blade and went behind her to slash the back of her knees with it.

Vilivian fell forward as Piano returned to the front and sheathed her blades. The crowd cheered as the Matriarch was on her knees, panting in pain and holding onto her wounded shoulder. Piano allowed herself a smirk of pride of a job well done.

She glanced at Vilivian’s tag. The scarf on her left shoulder. She could snatch it and win so easily, but she was elated with the realisation that Vilivian can be felled. Piano can protect herself and her brother. That was her true talent. And Vilivian’s martial arts? They were soon to become hers as well.

‘Serious enough for you?’

Vilivian laughed through pain as she let go of the shoulder and barely stood up. Her struggle was accompanied by the jeers and calls for Piano to kill her.

Piano couldn’t help but feel slight shame and guilt over the behaviour of the spectators. She doesn’t like being in the centre of attention herself but putting her on the spot like that disgusted her to an extent. Perhaps she should’ve ended it right then and there.

‘Seems your talents took me by surprise.’ Vilivian said. Her wound was dark, and purple blood had stained her red blouse. ‘Truly, I didn’t expect those kinds of feats.’

‘I’m rather surprised. If I knew direct confrontation would end like that, I wouldn’t insist on the change of scenery.’

‘So much for that mutual respect. Now, let’s try that again, shall we? I won’t be caught off guard again.’ Vilivian’s face turned deadpan, and her eyes seemed to drill into Piano to the very core.

The Devil-blooded woman turned serious as well. Losing focus against Vilivian was what she was afraid of before – she can’t allow herself to simply get lost in premature jubilation.

She dashed and with her crimson blade at the ready.

‘Rise!’ Vilivian used her right arm to cast a spell and from ground emerged a wall that blocked off, but frontal assault was never Piano’s plan. She bounced off to the left and intended to strike Vilivian’s right shoulder from behind, but the Matriarch seemed to have expected this and Piano was welcomed by Vilivian’s Elbow.

She collapsed on the ground in pain, losing her blade. She felt Vilivian’s grip tighten around her neck as she was picked up with minimal effort and turned around. Piano tried to free herself from the grasp to no avail and was consequently ran into the wall of the bakery they were passing earlier. Her ki reinforcement and adrenaline made the pain bearable once Vilivian used her body to repurpose the mason-work. She then used the Vilivian Knee to push her in further.

‘Thing about speed, Blackblood.’ Vilivian said as she held her opponent in the air. ‘Is that past a certain point it becomes very predictable.’

Piano flicked her sleeve and a knife appeared in her hand. She stabbed Vilivian’s forearm. Matriarch had to let her go and Piano kicked her away mid-air and managed to land on her feet. Vilivian pulled out the knife from her arm and tossed it away. She took guard.

Piano pulled another knife from her other sleeve and charged the Matriarch and the two women engaged in a very scrappy melee.

Piano evaded and slashed, though made of silver, her knife didn’t seem to make nearly as much impact as her ninjato did. Vilivian grunted in pain, but she toughened out all of Piano’s strikes. Her knife was eventually knocked out and it turned into full-on fisticuffs. She would evade most of Matriarchs attacks, proceed with counters and land a good hit or several. She used her martial arts to their full extent, but Vilivian was so pent up on magical adrenaline she was basically a punching bag that hits back.

Forte watched the fight anxiously in the crowd gathered on the plaza. The rain intensified as two women exchanged blows, but he wasn’t at all happy with how it proceeded.

It was very clear who was winning in those trades. Piano might’ve appeared deadpan and focused, and her moves struck precisely and powerfully, but she was having trouble matching Vilivian’s endurance. She needed to retreat, and take a breather, but Vilivian closed the gap each time she tried to do just that. She was like an annoying hamster. Hamster that hit like a sledgehammer.

Piano was trapped and forced to fight on until her endurance gives. He kept hoping she would start running but she kept pushing. Why didn’t you just take the bloody tag, Sister?! What talent could that woman possibly have that is worth all this pain?

He noticed Vito standing near the front in his stupid hat. All these zealots were strangely quiet ever since they found out Vilivian’s doing fine work being Piano’s equal. They all stood frozen and just watched the beating.

He approached the drunkard.

‘You,’ he grabbed Vito by the shoulder.

‘Huh?’ disgusting smell erupted from his mouth. ‘Oh, it’s you, Brandon.’

‘Brandon? Right, whatever. Say, don’t you think that the Matriarch’s having an advantage?’ Forte asked even though it caused him no end of frustration.

‘Eh, yeah, well, she’s got the momentum, but I bet Lady Piano will get it back any moment now . . .’

‘Well, it’s better safe than sorry, right? Didn’t you say you were going to make sure she wins, and all that?’

‘Yeah, but that was on the colosseum you know. Here it’s just . . . too intimate, you know what I mean?’

‘I don’t.’ Forte hissed and then his heart sunk when he saw his sister fall to the ground by receiving Vilivian’s left hook to the temple and was consequently kicked in the ribs. He watched in terror as the crowd moved back away from her body.

Rage started overtaking his body and mind.

Cowards. The lot of them are nothing, but cowards! Of course, they are! What did I expect from a bunch of drunkards! They boast, they sing, they HATE, but they will not act on it, no. The reason they’re not cheering for Vilivian now is because it would be too embarrassing, wouldn’t it? I despise them. This can’t stand. This WILL NOT stand!

Piano held onto her head. A slight concussion. Nothing a good headshake won’t fix.

Oh, she needed a plan. She didn’t want to use her silver sword – not yet – she couldn’t risk losing it like she did with her other blade.

Her martial arts were impeccable, but Vilivian was a literal wall. Low sweeps? She’ll jump on you and pummel you down. High kicks? She’ll grab the leg and break it in two. Haymakers? She’s seen it so many times she could write an essay. Anything melee that remotely worked were defensive moves or random acrobatics. Vilivian learned as she fought and wasn’t afraid of taking a heavy hit. She was—

Piano’s thought process was interrupted by a heavy kick to the ribs. She was prepared for it, but she had hoped to at least finish the thought.

‘Get up.’ Said Vilivian harshly.

Piano felt more embarrassed than she was in pain now, but she liked to think it was Vilivian’s way of showing affection. A motivation of sort. For all she knows, she might’ve just bludgeoned her head in with her boot.

‘Is kicking down the fallen all you can do?!’ Someone shouted from the crowd.

Both Vilivian and Piano turned towards the source. Piano felt something unpleasant swell in her chest. The murmur started arising amongst the spectators. It became louder with each second.

‘Monster!’ someone shouted.

‘Back to England with you!’

Vilivian listened in confusion when the first voice spoke again.

‘Vane! Cassius! Arthur! Do you think they will forgive something as monstrous as you? You’re not a human, you’re a vile beast!’

‘How do you know these names?’ Vilivian asked coldly as she scouted the crowd for the source of voice.

The crowd got agitated, instantly coming to defence of their member.

‘What’s it to you, bitch?!’

‘Stay off, and keel over already, demon!’

‘Kinslayer!’ shouted the first voice, once again.

Piano noticed Vilivian clenching her fists.

‘I know your scent.’ Vilivian was livid.

I do, too, Piano’s fears were realized. She couldn’t let him get hurt. She needed to get Vilivian’s attention.

She lunged quickly for Matriarch’s tag while she was distracted, but her right arm was intercepted and Vilivian fell on her with her hand on her throat.

‘Is that how you intended to win, Blackblood?’ Vilivian’s voice carried nothing but spite. ‘By breaking my mind?’

Vilivian’s iron grip was incredible, but at least the pressure was off Forte. All she needed to do now is to . . . get . . . free . . .

Vilivian wouldn’t budge – not to kicks or punches or anything. She crushed her chest slowly choking her with cold and ruthless expression. She could not reach her blade, nor could she cut herself to burn her. Her vision blurred as life slowly ebbed away.

And then they heard the gunshot howl.

Piano breathed out as Vilivian collapsed on her back – purple blood oozing from hole in her chest. The Matriarch touched it in disbelief, as if hoping it’s just an illusion.

Piano turned around and saw her Forte in a raincoat, holding a revolver.

‘Oi, that’s my gun!’ shouted the man Piano saw giving speech the day before.

Forte’s hand trembled and dropped the handgun, as if he himself couldn’t believe what he had just done. They looked at each other and with terrified expression, Forte escaped through the crowd.

‘Is that how I perish . . .?’

Piano turned stood up and looked at Vilivian. She was kneeling, watching her own blood on her hands.

‘Vilivian, listen . . .’ Piano was interrupted.

‘That’s exactly what happens, Monster!’

The man in red jacket picked up his handgun and raised it to the sky.

‘Wait, you don’t understand—’

‘We understand everything perfectly, Lady Piano!’ his perverted zeal sent shivers down her spine. ‘We may have faltered, but we retrieved our vigour! We shall not be intimidated neither by the Matriarch nor by the God Eater! Finish her now, Champion! Send her back to rotting hell that spewed her out!’

The large crowd joined in the call for murder. It was a horror. So much hatred and spite, without a reason. It couldn’t be real – it was too unnatural. It must’ve been a ploy. A trick? It couldn’t be her brother’s but who’s then? They all wanted blood – and Piano was sure they didn’t even know why. She wanted to stop them, but she found herself speechless. Too scared, too shy.

Vilivian listened as her already bleeding heart broke. Though not in any immediate danger her mind was reeling in fear – her instinct slowly taking over, and she couldn’t rein them in.

Her thoughts rushed from one point to another; the yesterday’s conversations, the today’s events, and all that the people of Crossroads talked about her started taking its toll.

A fiend. A monster. Called as such by the people she thought admirable. Their ability to persevere, their ingenuity; the compassion Vilivian envied and could only dream of conferring to someone. She wanted to be on equal terms with them.

She feared hurting them. She feared taking away a life without a reason. Her promises. Her friends. She dreaded losing those things, because they were the closest, she ever was to being humane. But those fears were redundant. Volley, Saki, Arthur, Wendy . . . Whether they indulged her pitiful fantasies or sought solace from her anger and angst didn’t matter anymore.

She was full of anger. And if you’re full of anger, there’s no more room left for fear.

Vilivian placed her hands on ground. Her blood sinking into the cold, wet stone. Rain battered her back, and her wound dripped with purple.

‘You’re all scum.’ Vilivian’s quiet voice escaped; her seething rage quieting the rowdy crowd down. Piano took step backward, grabbing the hilt of her sword. ‘Your veins are more mud than blood. Decadent in your pretentious mediocrity you refuse to acknowledge your innate weaknesses. You assume your high perch, dictating and fearmongering as if you know what I’m like – why my kind are like! You are cowards, willing to lie, deceive and kill when it’s convenient. You claim I exist to bring naught but murder, but I am more. And You. Will. Learn.’

Her arms lit up with blue light and the cobblestones in the plaza did as well. Somebody shouted “Run!” and the ground started collapsing. It consumed whole plaza into the depths, along with part of the warehouse and other nearby buildings including the bakery, two houses and a donut shop.

And of course, people.

Piano turned around the moment she saw Vilivian’s arms light up. She turned on a heel and started running as earth was consumed along the way. She jumped to grab the roof and climbed, just barely making it on top as the building she was on top of collapsed as well. She jumped to another building, further down the street whose part also collapsed.

With ground finally certain underneath her feet she looked over the scene. The giant hole in what was once a plaza was being filled with rainwater and sewage. There was chaos, there was blood there was almost certainly death.

‘. . . Fetch me the rope . . .!’

‘. . . Use the soap I say . . .!’

‘. . . Guards! Guards! Where’s the bloody guard . . .!’

She couldn’t see Vilivian anywhere nor could she sense her. Did the Matriarch die? If she had, she would have known about it, right?

It was a complete pandemonium. She saw Volley climbing down the hole to look for people. Couple of mages and witches came out to tend to the wounded and help with bringing out the victims.

Piano noticed a silhouette of a man deep in the crater. His lower body was crushed by debris. The broken sewer pipe was slowly flooding him down. She thought him dead, but she could still sense his ki albeit very faintly.

She jumped onto the street and then into the crater. Dark dirt was unstable, and she had to squeeze in-between two large pieces of concrete to get to him. She dropped even lower, and her feet submerged in the water.

She approached the man – he was unconscious. Piano moved the concrete block aside and saw the man’s bruised and bleeding legs. She pulled him up and put him on her back and at the same time someone shouted and threw a rope.

With a lot of effort and a lot of reinforcing she managed to climb the rope with the man weighing her down. She was sweating and struggling near the top with her hands and body trembling she was panicking about dropping the man.

At the very top three residents grabbed him off her shoulders and pulled him away while Saki helped appeared and pulled her up.

‘You alright?’ the oni asked.

‘Where’s Vilivian?’

‘Wasn’t she down there?’

‘I can’t sense her!’

‘Well, she’s somewhere, then, otherwise you’d have her tails attached to you! Blast it, Chifu, where are you? And where are the damned guards?!’

Saki went to reinforce the rescue missions, while Piano looked to the other end of the chasm. If Vilivian’s alive she needs to find her. Before she finds Forte.

***

Forte discarded his raincoat and glasses and jogged frantically through the streets. He was running for two minutes but he tired rather quickly was eventually brough down to a brisk walk.

His body trembled with excitement and adrenaline. Despite rain, his agitated blood warmed him up. He breathed in and out trying to put together the events that had occurred.

‘I shot her.’ He mumbled. ‘I shot her!’

He was willing anything to save his sister and he did. There was nothing to regret except for missing the head. The tremors he felt a few minutes ago must’ve been Vilivian’s doing.

He walked, he took turns into alleyways, sometimes he looped but every twelve seconds or so he looked behind his shoulder.

‘Oi, mate. Over here.’

He turned towards the alleyway. A familiar and disgusting sight awaited him there; Camio, in his form of a porcelain spider called out to him.

Forte looked around before he entered the narrow alleyway. ‘What do you want?’ he asked. ‘I’m slightly peeved and in a hurry.’

‘Calm down,’ said Camio emerging from his porcelain pot. ‘Thing is that I’ve been paid to keep you out of harm’s way.’

‘You were? Why you?’

‘I know this town just as well if not better than the God Eater herself, lad. Every nook and cranny; black markets, clubs, smuggling dens . . . I know where she can find you, and where she can’t. Be honest, do you think there’s anyone willing to melee with that thing?’

‘She is chasing me then?’

‘She sure as shit ain’t dead. And you did get the warning.’

‘You still haven’t told me who is it that employed you.’

‘A little bird that goes by “Not Your Bloody Business”. I’m a professional, guv. Not exactly willing to spill the beans on who pays my bills.’

‘You’re being strangely conscientious.’

‘I take an offense to that.’

‘What of my sister?’

‘Last time I saw her she was saving some schmuck from the chasm Vilivian made. She’s probably looking for her right now. Probably scared of what Vilivian might do to you should she catch you. She was looking pretty pissed right before she turned everything to shitter.’

Forte smiled smugly.

‘Well, I always wondered what her breakdown would be like. Had few theories on it.’

‘I am open to ideas.’

Forte froze up. His brain spanned all manner of wild and incoherent fantasies as he tried to provide a rational reason on why Vilivian was standing behind him. It all came down to Camio’s insufferable smirk.

‘You stalled me. You betrayed me.’ He said to the lesser demon.

‘Technically, I betrayed my employer. I’m so glad I took the payment upfront.’

‘Why?’

‘Remember when you called me disgusting?’

Forte grimaced into anger.

‘Are you that petty?’

‘I’m worse. Truth being, I just really don’t like you. Welcome to the real world, kid.’

‘You—’

‘Enough.’ Vilivian spoke out. ‘Leave, Demon. Your sole existence is an affront to your kind.’

‘Yes, ma’am.’ Camio said quickly and hid inside his pot. He then emerged wings and flew away.

Forte finally turned away to Vilivian. She was much closer than she expected. A few meters at most.

The Matriarch was standing upright, with cold, but focused expression. Her red blouse was dirtied by earth and soaked with rain and her own blood. There were scrapes in her black pants and her braid was dishevelled and wet. The sword remained fixated to her back.

He looked over the shoulder. If he ran quickly enough . . .

He fixed his shirt and took a deep breath.

‘Say, are you giving me a chance to escape?’

‘An illusion of one, at most.’ Vilivian spoke softly.

‘I remember wounding you,’ he looked at her chest.

‘I healed it.’

‘I recall the process being rather excruciating without any anaesthesia.’

‘I endured it.’

Her calmness agitated him. He expected her to be furious, quippy and ready to murder him on the spot, which she probably is but she doesn’t feel like it.

She was glaring at him, like a predator stalks their prey. Well, I hope you choke on it.

‘I hope you at least understand why I did it.’

‘I do.’

‘No way for us to settle it peacefully, then?’

‘No.’

‘And yet, you don’t seem as wrathful, contrary to the evidence in the plaza.’

‘I’m past the age of temper tantrums dictating my actions and feelings. I came, however, to an epiphany that I am a monster. And nothing will change that.’

‘You ceded to some tavern banter?’ Forte scoffed. ‘I thought you better than that, Miss Vilivian.’

‘You haven’t, but that aside, I simply realized that there’s no point pretending to be something I’m not. I’ll do what I want. And I still have a promise to keep.’

‘A promise, forsooth! To teach me the ultimate lesson! I am to die in the name of your principles?’

‘No.’

‘No?’

‘I killed a lot of people, Male. Mainly in defence. I have never had any significant connection to my victims. Until now, however. Revenge is a novel concept to me.’

She cocked her head and gave him a sadistic grin.

Oh, dear. What have I unleashed onto the world?

‘Now, then. What happens now?’

‘That depends on you.’ She said. ‘Will you run? Use one of your tricks? Talk?’

He scratched his chin.

‘Myriad choices equal myriad outcomes. Without delay, I say, it would be impudent of me to be disillusioned with the promise of safety and health, alas I can’t help but to conceal my true intentions for as you see—’

He then turned around and started running in the opposite direction. He sprinted, as fast as Forte could sprint which wasn’t very fast, but it did cause Vilivian to give a hearty laugh.

She then reached out her arm and grabbed air. She tightened her grip and the spell broke.

“Forte” that was running away dissolved into particles while the real one appeared in her hand, held by the throat. He tried to swing his legs at her and punched her arm, but she didn’t budge.

‘All at once. You really are an entertainer!’ Vilivian laughed cheerfully and threw him out onto the street. He landed in the puddle of rain, his body aching from impact.

‘You carry yourself expertly when it comes to illusions. But your scent is unmistakeable.’

She walked up and straddled him. She grabbed his hair and held it against the puddle. With her other hand she ripped open his shirt and vest revealing his crimson chest. She caressed it before cracking her fingers and raising her hand high.

‘Killing you would be cathartic, but ultimately wasteful. And ripping your tongue, while satisfying is pointless if you’re going to die anyway.’

Forte looked to the side, hoping for the rescue. If this were a story, a thunder would strike Vilivian down. Piano would come just in time to save him. But this wasn’t that kind of story.

She pierced his skin with her nails and buried her fingers in it. He groaned as she pushed deeper, and his blood burned her fingers.

‘I will make sure that every word— no, every breath you take; every time you grasp for life will cause you the same pain you caused when you shot me. It will be a very slow nightmare.’ In the instant she pierced his lung she pulled out as he twitched in agony. She looked at her burned fingers and smiled in blissful contentment.

She stood up, as he lied half-unconscious in the intensifying rain. His life slowly expiring.

Vilivian felt weight on her back. She had trouble standing and she glanced over at the keepsake tied to her back. Once, the blade’s weight would concern her, but now she frowned in disdain and untied the useless piece of metal. It fell on the ground; a thud muffled by the rain.

‘Vilivian!’ she heard shouting. About fifteen meters, she saw Piano standing in shock and disbelief. She looked at Forte and then at Vilivian. Matriarch smiled as she met Piano’s glare. Heavy rain splashing on top of their heads.

‘What did you do?’ Piano shouted out.

‘I always considered my seemingly endless lifespan a curse, Blackblood. Let’s just say that this once,’ she looked at Forte over her shoulder and smiled as he let out a slight groan with each attempt to breath. ‘I will enjoy time’s relentless flow.’ She looked back at Piano and took a fighting stance. Piano discarded the scabbard she used to store her crimson blade in and took a stance as well.

‘You’re going to pay for that.’

Matriarch could sense wrath slowly taking hold in the young woman. Yet, she retained a magnificent control. Fear, anger, anxiety. . . Piano had suppressed them all and focused on the task ahead. Vilivian scoffed and her expression turned serious.

‘I’ll hold you to that.’

Both women started running at each other and met in the middle. Vilivian met a haymaker which Piano quickly kicked away and struck her chest twice with her fists, before Vilivian managed to swing wide. Piano evaded low and struck into stomach and face in two quick moves. As Matriarch recoiled her face slightly her right hand came down with a chop. Piano leaned left and attacked her head with two quick strikes which were evaded and countered by Vilivian’s left arm coming down like a hammer.

Piano defended herself with her right forearm. Vilivian gathered some of the rain in her palm and threw it in her face, blurring her vision.

Despite that, Piano predicted Vilivian’s next two strikes and deflected them. It was Vilivian’s habit to always go for the chest. Piano was finally getting a read on her opponent’s moves.

She followed up with a strong kick with her left leg to Vilivian’s ribs. Matriarch answered with another wide swing Piano dodged and then deflected oncoming chop from below.

Yet another kick to the ribs and Matriarch made pained expression. Piano continued with a strike to the cheek, then another to the chest and went for a kick with a right leg.

Matriarch, unsuspecting a kick from the other side, didn’t have a choice but to finally be toppled down by Piano’s strength and was effectively, albeit very briefly, moved out of the way.

Piano wasted on time and rushed towards her bleeding brother. The tournament was secondary. The safety of her brother was paramount.

‘You’re as predictable as sunrise!’ Vilivian’s arm lit up when she raised it.

Cobble wall erupted right between Forte and her. She could’ve jumped it or destroyed it, but she was afraid of the rubble hurting her brother should the wall be destroyed either by her or Vilivian.

She turned around to see the Matriarch charging her with her fist ready to strike. Piano put her hand on the hilt of her silver rapier.

She needed to disable her. When Vilivian was close enough, Piano ducked unsheathing the blade aiming to slash Vilivian’s side.

But as Piano did to her before now Vilivian did to her. Matriarch feinted, and instead kicked Piano’s head, felling the young devil and her blade.

Reeling from hit, Piano saw Vilivian take the blade in her hand and approached her. Before she could react, it was sunk in her gut.

She yelled out in pain as Vilivian twisted the blade. She knew exactly where to strike to inflict as much suffering without killing her victim and yet, she didn’t seem to enjoy it one bit. Rather, she was very indifferent.

Devil blood ate away the silver coating as she pulled it out, and Piano held onto her wound as it ate through her clothes. Gasping for air, enduring the pain, and trying to maintain consciousness.

‘It’s time to choose, Blackblood.’ Vilivian said deadpan. ‘I know you have the stone. I know you must realize that your brother is holding you back. Choose. Your life . . . or his.’

Piano reached for her pocket and pulled out the rejuvenation stone. The seemingly empty crystal was heavy and capable of healing one fatal injury. She clutched it in her hand.

It was the easiest choice of her life.

Determined, she crawled towards her brother. Her wish. Her life. It didn’t matter anymore. He had to survive. It was pointless to go on trying without him.

She managed to get to him, whilst holding onto her wound. She raised her trembling hand holding the crystal over his wound. It was fine. He was going to resent her for that, but it was OK. Those were the consequences. And she was willing to pay them. She wanted to win, and she wanted to live. But if the price was to be left alone in this world, if the price was to fill a grave with his body . . . then it was too high.

She saw shadow, and then was kicked away by Vilivian. Crystal rolled on the ground as she recoiled in pain. ‘Why . . .?’ she asked. Her eyes swell up.

‘I expected you to hold some sentiment,’ Vilivian picked up the crystal. ‘But I didn’t expect you to choose poorly. Your potential, your innate abilities are far too great to be discarded in exchange for this male. In this adversity, you will find anger – and anger will give you strength.’

‘I don’t want it! I want him to live!’

‘I’m afraid I’ve already made my choice.’

‘It isn’t yours to make!’

‘I’m glad you get the point.’

Piano tried to crawl away as Vilivian grabbed her and held her down with one hand. Devil kicked and flailed trying to escape. ‘Stop!’ she screamed. ‘NO!’ tears started falling from her eyes. She was sedated as the crystal shimmered with magic and her wound started healing.

The electric current numbed the pain of the mending spell and Piano’s cries became quieter. She was finally let go as the crystal crumbled from her hand. Piano looked in despair as slowly subsiding rain swept away the dust.

‘No, no, no!’ she collapsed on all four as her body was still numb from the spell. Vilivian took a step back. She sensed fear and anxiety; desire for revenge, to get even. Perpetual wrath stirred in Blackblood’s veins, fuelled by her loss. Vilivian expected her to explode; to attack.

But Piano broke down in despair instead. Her tears abundant and consumed in the rain. She crawled up to her brother. ‘Please,’ she begged. ‘Please, heal him!’

Vilivian stood astonished.

Piano leaned above Forte. She gently grabbed his hair. ‘Forte?’ she said weakly. ‘Brother, can you hear me? Please talk to me!’

His eyes were shut. There was no answer.

‘Please! Please . . . Don’t leave me.’ She sobbed quietly.

He’s barely alive, Vilivian thought. You should be able to tell, WHY can’t you tell?

That vortex of emotions she sensed inside was gone. Naught but grief and guilt remained. What Vilivian once saw as a penultimate to great power now devolved into emotions of no value. Despair brought no benefits; it sowed nothing but self-doubt and Vilivian recoiled in disgust sensing those things in her opponent.

Livid, Vilivian grabbed Piano’s hair and pulled her back on her knees.

‘Explain to me, Devil. Why?!’ she yelled. ‘Why do you care so much for this male? He’s a wretch! He’s been holding you back your whole life! He demeaned your victories; he halted your growth by interfering into fights he had no business doing so! He brings misery to all he talks to, possesses no respect for anything but his own desires and you revere him, deluding yourself that you must depend on him like human must depend on air, or fish on water! Why, why, why?! What is so special about him that you abandon what you are and forsake all that you could be?!’

‘He’s my brother!’ she cried. ‘He’s all I have!’

Vilivian’s face turned from wrath to guilt back to wrath in a span of two seconds.

‘“All you have?” You have talent! Your skills are supreme! There is so much potential waiting to be unlocked! Why are all those things suddenly made redundant when that deadweight is removed from the equation? Why? Is it pity? What poison did he give you that made you so reliant on him?! Do you understand where you would be if he were dead? Do you understand where you would be if . . . if . . .

Where would I be if my brother were still alive?

Still stuck in a cave, most likely. Though perhaps with more reliable company than wild beasts and creatures. With loneliness never infecting her sense of duty she would remain as the Sentinel of Graal. Fated for eternity to guard the artefact until she was killed and beaten.

There was a time in her life that her siblings were all she had. Her sisters, as crude as they were, still acknowledged the bonds of the brood and would visit every so often. She felt their deaths through the blood – it was like the very last conversation she’s had – a storm of emotions they experienced as they perished, and it was usually just . . . anger.

Vilivian desperately sought some sort of sense of belonging, whether it was by softening up to some of the challengers or insisting on a promise to a dead man. She opened herself to the idea that the outside world may not be so terrible after all.

She yearned for the place of belonging – a place where she could be herself and be accepted for who she truly was – a Matriarch. The invitation to the tournament was a chance – a hope for her to finally find her place.

But she’s committed fratricide and felt she had no right to be anything but an outcast. And the more she acted as one, the more people despised her; turning the circle where she would become even more withdrawn and forgetting the people who did reach out to her and gave her place.

Piano’s twin may be the only reason for her to walk the earth. Should she really take the only solace she has in the world. Was his sin truly so grave? He almost killed me. And he’s teetering on the edge himself. What if he didn’t learn his lesson? He’ll learn again.

Vilivian was proud of the experience she accumulated throughout the centuries. But some of these experiences, she would rather never pass on.

She let go of Piano’s hair as anger within herself came to a sudden halt. She walked around Forte’s body and leaned on the other side.

Piano stared, uncertain, afraid, but said nothing.

‘It’s going to hurt.’ Vilivian hovered her hand above the wound in Forte’s chest. ‘Mend.’

Forte groaned in pain as light appeared in Vilivian’s veins. Piano grabbed her brother’s hand and tried to soothe him as the flesh knit and grew inside his body. He writhed, and as he moaned and coughed when his lung was being returned to its health.

After nearly full minute, the last tissue was healed back, and Forte finally breathed out uninterrupted. Piano was elated to see her brother turn his head towards her. He tried to speak to her but struggled to get even a word out.

Vilivian stood up and Piano followed suit.

‘Why?’ the young devil asked.

‘Because you wanted me to.’ Vilivian picked up the silver rapier from the ground.

‘And you very clearly didn’t. Was it one of your games?’

‘I don’t play games. You failed, Blackblood.’ She threw the rapier hilt first towards Piano who caught it without an issue and then sheathed it. Vilivian then approached the keepsake and picked it up in her two hands. Its weight became manageable. ‘You couldn’t protect your brother. I simply allowed you to improve on that.’

‘I am not the Blackblood you think me to be, Vilivian!’

‘No, you’re exactly what I think Blackblood should be. You were willing to die for him. To beg me to help him. I couldn’t even protect my own brother from myself.’

‘I thought your clan view Blackblood differently . . .’

‘My family is dead, Piano. I endangered the people of Crossroads thus betraying those who thought me decent.’ Vilivian frowned sadly. ‘I’m the last one. All I have left is a promise.’ She clutched the keepsake closer to her.

She looked at Piano with newfound resolve.

‘I don’t want your forgiveness, Blackblood. Merely a fitting finale for this pitiful parable.’

Piano looked back at her brother.

‘Someone will come and get him, I’m certain.’ Vilivian reassured her.

‘I know.’ Piano dried off her tears with her sleeve. ‘He’s come that far he won’t die now. Our fight has been prolonged enough. I’m willing to finish it.’

‘Good.’ Vilivian smiled then exclaimed out. ‘I know you can hear us Trickster! Move us somewhere where we can finish it uninterrupted!’

There was a silent pause during which the rain subsided. Then, the world moved while Piano and Vilivian stayed in place. They saw all of Crossroads move next to them until finally they found themselves in the middle of Cross Colosseum.

The arena, now emptied, was wet. The dark clouds were still hanging above in the sky, but there was nothing that would interrupt them anymore. No crowds. No brothers. No rain.

With trembling hand, Vilivian unsheathed the keepsake. Piano swallowed. The glint shined in the middle of the arena as the legendary blade saw daylight for the first time in four hundred years.

And though the blade shined, it didn’t appear to be anything special. It was a sword. A long piece of metal with very sharp edges. There was truly nothing out of ordinary in its appearance other than the blade’s blueish colour with silver spots.

But she noticed that it didn’t quite fit the scabbard. The blade was longer and the hilt much more suitable for wielding with two hands size of someone exactly like Vilivian.

‘Excalibur.’ Vilivian presented the weapon as she discarded the scabbard. ‘Legendary blade forged in times where function preceded over form. Its weight depending on the wielder’s guilt, balanced out by their resolve.’ She swung the air a few times. She had no trouble carrying the blade almost the same length as her. ‘I had hoped for it to not see daylight until I can present it to him. I’d kill anyone that dared to show any interest in it and now I’m the one wielding it. What’s one more broken principle, however? I must keep my promise. I will bring back Arthur. And it’s only fitting that his sword would help me achieve that.’

Piano untied her black scabbard and unsheathed the silver blade. She discarded the sheath and looked over the rapier’s blade. Its tip was slightly charred due to her devil blood, but she swung it confidently as well.

She put her left hand behind her back and positioned her blade low, slightly to the side.

‘Excalibur or not.’ Piano spoke confidently. ‘After I defeat you, I will claim my wish. And I’ll make sure that the events of today never happen again.’

‘Well said,’ Vilivian said and started circling around Piano whilst holding Excalibur high. ‘There will be no more interruptions in this venture, Blackblood! Now show me what you CAN do!’

Both women may have been wounded and spent but were still unwilling to compromise anything other than a decisive victory. With the only witness to their battle being the God Eater herself.

Vilivian slashed vertically. Piano parried it to the side and counter with a slash on her own that the Matriarch evaded. They struck relentlessly, each unwilling to give up an inch of advantage. Every time Piano’s silver blade struck Excalibur’s, a bright light of magic gleamed and a sound of corrupted, metallic sounds echoed in the empty arena.

***

Crossroads was covered with a blanket of mist. The sound of several dozen was heard walking through the main street towards the colosseum.

Men, women, humans, beastfolk, demons and devils; elves and dwarves; they were all armed with weaponry and prejudice. In their eyes a feverous zeal; in some uncertainty. On the very front, leading was Vito. He was holding his handgun high in the air.

‘Step up, ladies and gentlemen! A little bird just told me where we can find the Matriarch! Follow me!’ he shouted. ‘And we’ll bring that demon to justice for what she’s done to our beautiful town! It is now the time for mortals to take hold!’

Cheers erupted behind him. Towards the back there wasn’t as much commotion. It was rather difficult to hear him and even then, some of those people didn’t really share his mad ideas. They really were there just for the drama and any excuse to beat up someone else was good enough.

‘STOP!!’ somebody shouted.

And they did. Short of twenty meters away from him.

The saw an oni boy standing on a wooden box in front of the entrance to the colosseum.

He was wearing a white shirt and his shorts. He was raising his arms as if trying to fully block the entrance.

‘What’s the idea, brat?’ Vito shouted.

‘I can’t let you interrupt Miss Vilivian’s fight! Turn around and leave!’

‘Or what?’

‘I’ll beat you up!’ he jumped off the box and cracked his knuckles.

‘Are you daft?’

‘I’m not daft! I’m Volley! Miss Vilivian’s my friend and—’

‘Ah, a fiend sympathizer! Your statements are already made redundant. We don’t have to fight you, kid. We’ll just walk you over!’

‘It’s the quality that matters, not quantity.’

A woman exited the arena. She was carrying an umbrella in her left hand. She was wearing purple dress and large witch hat.

‘Hello, Miss Wendy!’ said Volley. ‘What are you doing here?’

‘Good afternoon, Volley.’ The mage smiled at the boy. ‘I was worried about Vilivian after she destroyed the plaza. I’ve been all over Crossroads looking for her. I’m glad I finally found her . . .’

‘Are you another sympathizer?!’ Vito was spitting everywhere.

‘I am her friend.’ Wendy said firmly.

‘You saw what she did to the town! Homes destroyed; families shattered! She has to pay!’

‘I am perfectly aware of what she’s done. I don’t believe, however, that’s done that out of malice or ill intent towards any resident of Crossroads. Even you. She was desperate.’

‘Desperate to kill.’ Vito growled. ‘Enough! Two against an army what possibly do you hope to—’

‘Three.’ Another person came from the direction of a side street. She was wearing a black sweatshirt with her hoodie on and was hiding her hands in her pockets.

‘Hello, Miss Angie!’ Volley waved at her as if there wasn’t a horde of angry people waiting to slaughter them.

Angelique waved back, slightly taken aback by his innocent friendliness.

Vito snarled.

‘Will you fight us to spite Piano? So regretful of your loss—’

‘Shut up.’ Angelique exclaimed and pulled her hands out of her pocket. ‘I don’t care for Piano. But I saw Forte getting carried away by Fox Den’s barkeep and it made me feel all warm and fuzzy inside. I feel inclined to return a favour to Vilivian for making my day.’

Crowd behind Vito grumbled. The voices of uncertainty gained volume.

‘That’s it!’ Vito raised handgun. ‘It’s time for you to—’

They were once more interrupted. A young man wandered in-between two groups, gathering their attention with his nonchalant biting of a chicken sandwich. He munched, carefree, as everybody stared at him.

Once he realized where he was, he looked at the mob then looked at Volley’s group.

‘What?’

‘You there, Quan boy!’ Vito shouted. ‘Come join us and let’s trample these pathetic collaborators!’

‘Do not listen to them! Help us if anything!’ Volley shouted.

‘Why?’

‘It’s the right thing to do!’

‘Eh.’ Quan turned to Vito ‘What’s your offer?’ Quan asked suspiciously.

‘Freedom! Truth! Justice!’ Vito claimed and the mob behind him cheered.

‘Hard pass. You can’t fill your stomach on those, y’know? I tried.’

‘Of course, there shall be a feast fitting for champions once we’re done!’

‘See, now, that’s an offer.’

‘Food?! Really?!’ Volley shouted in disbelief.

‘Fine choice, comrade!’ Vito said to approaching Quan. ‘Let us trample these fools and after that we shall teach Matriarch a lesson she’ll never forget!’

Quan stopped.

‘You mean to fight Vilivian?’

‘Of course!’

‘Oh, you’re capping if you think I’m going to fight her. I’m with them!’ Quan said and like a blur appeared next to Volley. He smiled at Wendy. ‘What’s up? Name’s Quan.’

‘What? Coward! Why would you choose the losing side?!’

‘Listen, mate. Even if we lose, I at least won’t have to fight Vilivian. I like my limbs as they are, thank you very much!’

Angelique scoffed.

Vito was red with fury.

‘You idiots! Fools! Buffoons! What do you think it will give you, hiding underneath that demon’s skirt?! You all will suffer, punished for your ignorance! And the God Eater?! She, too, shall know . . .’

He rumbled on as Volley and the gang watched him impressed.

‘The lungs on this man.’ Quan said.

‘So, do we have any plan or are we just going to wing it in hopes they forget who the enemy is and start beating each other up?’ Angelique asked.

‘We need to huddle up. The numbers aren’t quite in our favour.’ Wendy advised.

‘Fear not, for I have the strength of ten!’ Volley remained undeterred.

‘And there’s a hundred of them.’ Angelique noticed.

‘Fortune favours the bold!’

‘And they favour themselves.’

‘Despite the impossible odds you’re still here, aren’t you?’ Wendy said.

‘Difficult, not impossible.’

‘Why don’t we have some fun, eh? One who knocks the most knuckleheads out, wins. You up for it, Volley?’ Quan smiled.

‘Any time, any day!’

‘Can we focus? We’re still outnumbered.’ Wendy stepped behind the group.

Vito was still screeching while the small group bickered. Even the mob itself started getting uncomfortable with the man’s fanaticism.

His words were finally cut short when someone from the crowd behind him pulled him by the collar and threw him to the ground.

‘Who dares—’

‘Me.’ Said the orange-haired vixen. She was wearing a golden crown. ‘Now shut your mouth before I make you swallow your teeth.’

Vito thin-lipped as she brandished her bat onto her shoulder. He trembled, pinned under her condescending glare. She walked towards Volley’s group. There was slight excitement in her step.

‘I followed this cavalcade hoping for a shot at Vilivian, but here I found something more interesting. A fight that happens only once in a lifetime. Some of the best Crossroads can muster team up to go against the impossible odds. I simply cannot miss a chance like this.’

‘Aude?’ Wendy spoke softly.

Volley matched her glare and as he put up fist, ready to throw down with her. He was stupefied when she turned around and stood next to him, ready to fight. She gave him a cocky grin as took a fighting stance; her bat ready to swing at the mob at any moment.

Now, the five of them stood stalwart against the mob.

‘Oh, for the love of . . .’ Vito shouted as he struggled to get up. ‘JUST KILL THEM ALREADY!’

The mob was waiting for that command. With their battle cries they charged toward the group of five people.

‘So, what’s the plan?’ Wendy shouted, slightly concerned.

‘Bash their bloody heads in!’ Aude shouted, bloodthirsty.

‘I’m not really physically capable all that much!’

‘Play to your strengths,’ Armel appeared next to Aude. Slight glow appeared around both. ‘Let Aude and Volley take the point. Don’t let Wendy get overwhelmed and stick together!’

‘There’s ghost fighting with us, hah!’ Quan laughed as he brandished his knives.

‘Oh, Angie, what have you got yourself into now . . .’ Angelique lamented quietly as she positioned herself behind Volley.

The crowd was about to run into them – a large bull beastman led the charge. The ground quaked underneath their boots.

‘Let’s do this, Armel!’ Aude shouted.

‘Naturally.’

Aura surrounding her and Armel intensified giving them, as if covering them in white flames. Armel disappeared into Aude’s crown.

The vixen met beastman head on. She crushed her baseball into his torso and flung him away. Laughing, she proceeded onto the next opponent, focusing her bat on their heads and knees.

From the outside, the battle in front of the arena’s gates was a complete havoc, but a more focused eye could discern how well the defenders have divided up their roles in battle.

Aude and Volley were the vanguard – both could easily handle several enemies at once, though Aude’s opponents had lower chance of getting back up due to their more severe injuries.

Wendy stood in the back, using her elements of lightning, fire, and ice to disrupt the enemy advance. Nothing overly damaging, but she preferred to save her more powerful spells in case of emergencies.

Not that any occurred. Angelique and Quan both took on more supportive roles. She used her magic to immobilize and disrupt much like Wendy did but in addition knocked out anything that wasn’t worth wasting magic on.

Quan was like a fly. He was everywhere in battle at once being more of a nuisance than an actual threat, but he performed his duty of cleaning up anything Volley, Aude or Angelique missed very well.

Wendy was focused on spell-weaving. As she completed casting spell in one hand, she casted another with her other hand. She tried to be very economical with her magic. She noticed that the mob started surrounding them; more coming from the sides, giving Quan and Angelique more to work with than they could handle at once.

As Wendy focused on trying to support Volley’s onslaught, she noticed a handgun emerging from the crowd. Vito got closer and took aim at her. She was about to shout when a blur passed through, and revolver fell out Vito’s hand. He was then tackled by Angelique, causing his hat to fall and show off his receding hairline that might’ve blinded few members of the mob. He consequently had his face rearranged into a pulp which was an impressive feat on its own.

Wendy then noticed someone pick up the revolver. A black-haired youth, with tired eyes aimed it at her.

‘Pembrooke . . .!’ she said in shock.

‘Focus, Wendy,’ he said.

He fired twice. She felt bullets swing next to her head and then two bodies collapse. She unleashed a spell, and a shower of ice pelleted the man trying to blindside Aude. He lost balance and fell. He struck his head on a small stone, losing consciousness and ultimately being saved from vixen brutally savaging him.

Wendy looked at Pembrooke as he walked up to Vito’s rearranged body and started taking out bullets from his pockets.

‘If it weren’t for your magic, I might’ve not survived my round with Vilivian, Wendy. Consider this a favour returned.’ He grabbed the revolver in two hands and started picking off anything that would try to get into the backline.

Gunshots, magic, and screams caused due to fracture were the most prominent sounds now.

Aude’s playful laughter didn’t exactly fit with the sound of bones breaking, but it didn’t stop her from enjoying every moment of the fight.

‘Oh, this is hardly a hallmark of my career, but it’s so much fun!’

‘I told you it would be interesting.’ Armel appeared, sitting on one of the larger bodies. Someone tried to hit him, but the fist phased through.

‘Oh, Armel. You know me so well . . .’ She said in sultry voice. He smiled as the assailant who tried hitting him was dropkicked into the group of five other men by Volley.

‘How about dinner later? There are few places I saw last time I was on a walk.’

‘You guys want dinner?’ Quan blurred after he tripped up the man trying to charge at Angelique. ‘There’s a nice restaurant by the warehouse in business district. Hardly any rats, and let me tell you—’

‘Can we focus!’ Angelique shouted as her shadows stopped three men in place that were then beaten by Aude.

Wendy was preparing another spell when Pembrooke walked up a little closer to her.

‘So . . . Armel is a ghost, right?’

‘Pembrooke, I am trying my best to focus so that my spells don’t blow us up to kingdom come. Do NOT ask me that question.’

‘How do you think they—’

‘I said don’t!’

***

As the fight raged on outside the arena, there was one in the very centre of it, with much higher stakes.

Vilivian’s style was quick and aggressive. Not willing to give Piano room to breathe and despite most of her attacks being evaded or parried, she succeeded in putting on a pressure.

Piano, however, was much more confident in her sword skills than Vilivian was. Matriarch wasn’t using techniques she was familiar with, but the swordplay was very unrefined and poor. All she need was a single opening and when she’d get one . . .

Piano led the Excalibur to the ground and when Vilivian tried to lift it up she was forced to defend herself against Piano’s attacks. Series of unrelenting strikes pushed the Matriarch back as she tried to gain distance so that she could launch and offensive once more. She would finally try to get her with a thrust.

Piano parried and led the legendary blade in a circle and unarmed the Matriarch. They watched Excalibur fly away and land on the ground.

Piano aimed her charred blade at Vilivian’s throat who looked at her blade in disbelief.

‘It’s a fantastic work, this blade of yours,’ she said. ‘You could use a bit practice, though.’

Vilivian smirked.

‘Well, it’s been a little over a thousand years.’

Her veins started shining turning purple.

‘I won’t let you!’ Piano shouted and slashed at her. Matriarch ducked under and grabbed Piano’s arm. She broke her wrist on her own shoulder disarming the young woman. Rapier fell to the floor. Vilivian delivered a powerful strike to Piano’s chest sending her flying.

Vilivian’s veins turned purple once more. She began transforming. Desperate to stop her, Piano picked up the Excalibur and threw it without any effort.

Vilivian just barely managed to fall to the ground avoiding the flying blade. The magic finally started working and her body changed.

Her clothes torn apart as she increased in size; Piano watched in horror. She saw it twice already, but it was completely different feeling seeing it from that close.

Her hair fell out and instead gained tail. Her limbs and body morphed into caricatures of their human forms gaining reach and sharpness. Her head was like a white skull, with her eyes hollow and devoid of any light. And there she was in all her Matriarchal glory. Vilivian’s tail flailed on the ground. She stood upright. Only her tag remained – a scarf on her left arm.

Piano had to defeat her in that form. Form, that she prepared for by buying that rapier. But now, she lost it and she had just thrown away her only weapon, by trying to avoid the situation she prepared for.

Vilivian spoke no words. She instantly got on all four and charged.

Piano’s body was overcome with extreme anxiety. She just in time managed to decide to dodge-roll to the side as Vilivian’s tail barely missed her legs.

Piano stood up and sprinted towards the sword. She didn’t turn around. She heard the Matriarch slide and turn and chase further. Piano felt her hairs standing up and chills running on her back with apprehension.

She reached the Excalibur when the steps were at their loudest. She grabbed it and instantly slashed around her, trying to strike the Matriarch.

Vilivian instantly dodged back and ploughed the ground, tossing the debris at Piano, trying to distract her. Piano jumped back avoiding it, keeping a close eye on the Matriarch.

They circled around each other.

YOU WIELD EXCALIBUR EFFORTLESSLY, there was sense of awe and admiration in Vilivian’s voice. EVEN ARTHUR FELT ITS WEIGHT AT SOME POINT.

Piano hadn’t realized it by herself, but indeed, the blade wasn’t as heavy as Vilivian made it out to be. She could lift it very easily. It also fit perfectly in her hand, though she felt as if the sword itself changed its form to allow her to use it one handed.

YOUR RESOLVE MUST ADAMANT, OR YOU STILL POSSESS THE INNOCENCE OF AN INFANT.

‘It doesn’t matter.’

INDEED.

She struck with point of her tail and Piano blocked with the broad side. She then attacked with her claw and Piano managed to parry it as Vilivian withdrew her arm the moment it made contact.

For some reason, Vilivian wasn’t keen on clashing with that blade. Did it have some effect on the Matriarch? Or did Vilivian simply not want to dilapidate it any further?

It was an opportunity, nonetheless. A reason for Piano to go on offensive. Matriarch tried to toss and throw rubble at her, but Piano would push through and try and strike either at heart or any limb.

Piano used the fact that Vilivian didn’t want to destroy the sword patiently. She waited for the Matriarch to slip up. Vilivian finally struck with her tail trying to trip her up. Piano reinforced the strength in her leg and stepped on it and then proceeded to cut it at its thinnest part.

Vilivian let out a screech of agony as her tail bled purple after being cut off at half-point. Piano pressed the advantage and thrust at Vilivian’s heart. She covered herself with her left arm and the blade pierced right through the onyx skin, just barely missing the chest because the guard got stuck on the arm.

Piano cursed when Vilivian grabbed her with her right hand. The grip was too powerful for Piano to wiggle her way out and her skin too tough to be broken by Piano’s fists. Excalibur fell out of her bleeding wound onto the ground.

Piano refused to submit. She raised her knees and reached for her boot. She took out her last throwing knife and slashed open her forearm. The devil blood splashed onto Vilivian’s face and burned her.

Matriarch recoiled in pain, as the acid slowly ate away her face. Piano fell onto the ground. She quickly picked up the Excalibur and charged the Matriarch once more.

Vilivian’s veins lit up with purple light. Her heart could be very clearly seen beating inside her chest. She looked straight at Piano.

She knew what Vilivian was doing, and she refused to stop. She’s put all her faith in the ability of the ancient sword.

Vilivian opened her mouth. A wave of pure magical energy was fired at Piano who swung the Excalibur just at the right moment.

There was a loud sound – the colour of magic filled the arena. Both finalists were consumed by the explosion of fantastic light.

***

Wendy struggled to put up any more glyphs. Not because she was exhausted, but because she had to prioritize her targets very well.

Pembrooke has run out of ammunition and has been picking off single strugglers. He was a decent fighter, but the moment he’d get outnumbered he was done for. Angelique scarcely used her magic anymore and only picked fight nobody else could. Likewise, Quan’s blurs and appearances became scarcer.

Aude and Volley managed to keep up, though the vixen started showing signs of exhaustion as well. Her aura dissipated some time ago as well. Volley was seemingly the only one that was as brisk now as he was in the beginning.

Their opponents had a very large number advantage. And despite group’s best efforts – some of them stood back up again (unless they were handled by Aude) for more. They kept coming, and Wendy has decided to give in to desperation – before they get seriously hurt.

This is going to hurt, she thought. She wasn’t big on inflicting pain. She really wished she could just knock them out, but to win immediately she had to use all her strength and magic. Frankly, it was going to hurt her more than it would them.

Orange glyph appeared in her right hand and violet in left. She put them closer together and focused, connecting both magics.

Taking from experience while working with Vilivian she tried to create something extraordinary. Something massive, but subtle and yet extremely efficient.

He felt energy being sapped from her very being. Two glyphs connected into one as she ran through the concepts and ideas in her head on how to handle the literal bomb in her hand.

The result was an unstable sphere of fire and lightning. She could sense the energy expanding - demanding to be let out.

She threw it high up. It flew into the air before exploding just above the end of colosseum walls.

The few dozen red-blue bolts fell freely, before suddenly sharpening and turning towards their targets.

Lightning fast, all still-standing members of the angry mob were hit with exploding surge of energy, sometimes even jumping to next targets. In few blinks of an eye, all their opponents were knocked to the floor, with members of Wendy’s party being omitted.

They looked at the battlefield, now littered with bodies.

Wendy collapsed on her knees.

‘Eureka . . .?’ she said slightly perplexed.

Her body was numb. She had never exhausted herself so much with magic. Thunder and fire. But what allowed her to use such combination was . . .?

‘THAT WAS SO COOL!’ Volley shouted in excitement.

Aude’s ears were flat.

‘And slightly . . .’

‘Unclimactic?’ Armel finished with a sigh of relief. ‘Good. It started getting a little dire towards the end.’

‘You mean it started getting good.’

‘But it was fun while it lasted, right?’ Quan said as he pulled out a bin bag from his pocket.

‘I want a beer.’ Said Pembrooke as he holstered Vito’s handgun behind his belt, claiming it for himself.

‘I think I might a beer.’ Angelique massaged her forehead through her sleeve.

‘Fox Den?’

‘Maybe later. I have to find Vivi, first. She was probably helping people out near that crater.’

‘Quan?’ Aude asked. ‘What are you doing?’

‘Getting my pay,’ he said as he pulled off shoes off Vito. ‘Do you know how much a good pair goes?’

‘That’s rather . . . gross.’ Aude grimaced.

‘No, no,’ Armel argued. ‘He has a point. See, back in the day . . .’

From a nearby alley, a pair of eyes watched them.

Well, shit, thought Camio from underneath the lid of his pot. I didn’t expect them to turn that around.

He’s been observing how Vito’s mob endeavour was going since the beginning. It was entertaining to see them all fall like dominoes; it was just as entertaining to see the smaller group struggle more and more. Until the witch turned serious that is.

‘I’d rather skedaddle before they notice me . . .’ and as he said that he noticed a large shadow loom over him. He was then picked up and turned and his eyes met Saki’s.

She was furious.

‘Blimey,’ he said.

‘Hello, Camio.’ She said scornfully. ‘You know that I don’t appreciate you betraying me. Why must you pick the worst moments to do that?’

‘Wait, Saki, I can explain! I’m a demon! That’s what I do!’

Saki shook her head disappointed.

‘Well, I hope that you know what that entails. It’s back to Closet of Comeuppance for you.’

Camio’s ethereal face turned dreadful.

‘No. Saki, no! Please not the Closet of—’

But she closed the lid shut and then duct taped all around the pot. She put it underneath her arm and whilst humming returned to Fox Den.

‘Are you alright?’ Aude asked.

‘Yes,’ Wendy smiled. Her muscles ached, but she recognized that she wasn’t in any danger. ‘I just need a little rest and I’ll be fine.’

‘You know, that was some fantastic magic.’ Armel said.

‘And volatile,’ Angelique added.

‘I thought I should’ve done something sooner rather than later. We weren’t exactly in the best positions.’

‘I still would’ve rather fought it out till the end.’ Aude said irritated and then turned to Armel. ‘Whatever. What about that dinner—’

Then they all felt a large wave of energy coming from the arena. A great pillar of rainbow light shot up to the sky dispersing the clouds. It persisted for few seconds before it dissipated.

Pembrooke looked at Wendy.

‘Did you do that?’

‘Gods, I hope not.’

***

Vilivian felt the warmth of the sun on her naked skin. She was lying on the ground, returned to her human form. She recognized the smell of after-rain breeze. She tried standing up but was too weak. The resonance of silver and magic had sapped nearly all her strength.

The wound in her right forearm remained and she felt that part of her face was scarred after being struck with Piano’s black blood. Her fingers were also scarred from the time she wounded Forte. Her hand instinctively reached for the tag. The scarf was still there, unscathed.

She mustered whatever strength she had and stood up. The clouds above the arena were gone, sun illuminated the colosseum.

She looked forward and noticed Piano standing up in the distance. Her clothes were in tatters; she was bruised and burned. Her hair had come undone. She, too, noticed Vilivian standing.

They both started approaching each other. Slowly stumbling along the way, exhausted and spent. Walking hurt, but they would not deter.

Vilivian passed Piano’s silver rapier, but she ignored it, while Piano passed Excalibur and chose to ignore it as well. What little strength they had left could not be wasted on wielding weapons.

Vilivian was the first to throw the first punch and she missed. Piano stumbled to the side and countered with right hook. It was a very weak strike, but Vilivian nonetheless fell down.

She was panting. She finally felt her age. But she refused to back down. Not yet, she thought.

Through the pain, she stood up and swung again. Piano dodged, despite being just as spent as she was. There was another counter; Vilivian endured it and took yet another swing.

Piano shoved it away and struck Vilivian in the cheek with her fist. Vilivian tried to reach with her other fist to trade, but Piano moved her torso back, barely evading it.

She was then struck by Piano’s left fist while she blocked Vilivian’s with her right and struck again with her left. Vilivian took a wide swing, but Piano crouched and struck her chest.

When Vilivian tried to uppercut, Piano once again dodged it and hit her chest again. No matter what Vilivian did, Piano read her every move. She found counter to every strike. An opening in every stance. She had answer for every one of Vilivian’s moves.

And while she stumbled backwards under the strength of Piano’s attack, she refused to give. She planted her foot as firmly and leaned forward. Piano went for another direct attack with her fist. Vilivian stood – and took it straight to the face.

Though the sheer force should’ve toppled her and knock her out, she persevered. She grabbed Piano’s armed and pulled the Blackblood closer. Vilivian’s right fist went forward and struck her rival’s shocked face with every ounce of power.

Piano fell backwards and Vilivian fell forward along with her. She landed on all fours and Piano’s body fell on the side. With all her energy gone, Vilivian could only muster a glance in her direction.

The four tails on Piano’s back glimmered for a moment before they disappeared and Vilivian felt them appearing on hers giving her the collective eight.

She couldn’t laugh, cry tears of joy. She could barely breathe, but she managed to utter last couple words.

‘Well fought.’

She stared at the ground, doing her best not to pass out, when she saw a glimmering light appear before her.

She raised her head to see the Trickster in all her God Eater glory.

Her pure, shining white hair and the nine tails contrasted her magnificent attire. She crouched in front of Vilivian and reached out her hand.

She looked into her golden eyes and her soft, satisfied smile. Vilivian grabbed the hand and stood up.

They looked at each other silently. Vilivian was the first to speak.

‘I’m sorry.’ She said sadly. ‘About your city.’

‘It’s fine. I expected this.’ God Eater spoke calmly.

‘I hurt a lot of innocent people.’

‘We’re in Crossroads, Viliv. They’ll get better.’

There was a short silence during which Vilivian came to realization.

‘It was you, wasn’t it?’

God Eater smiled proudly.

‘You were the one who incited hate towards me,’ Vilivian continued. ‘You’re the one that had that lesser demon betray the Wordsmith. You’re the one who had would . . .’ Vilivian shook her head in disbelief. ‘See her city burn if she’d get a kick out of it.’

God Eater cliqued her tongue.

‘Not quite. Believe it or not, I had very little to do with Camio’s interference.’ Pipe appeared in her hand. ‘I had hand in inciting the mob and I did give my guards a little vacation for the duration of that brief . . . Well, let’s call that “revolution”. Camio, however, was on Saki’s payroll and decision to betray Forte was his own. The old coot is just extremely petty, and Forte was the perfect occasion to teach a lesson to the “whippersnapper.”’ God Eater chuckled. ‘Saki knew that Forte would somehow bring your wrath on himself, so she tried to at least delay his demise until after the fight. Unfortunately, in that dire situation the only person Forte would show any semblance of trust other than his sister would be his former associate.’

‘But why would you put your people against me?’ Vilivian said hurtful.

‘Two reasons,’ God Eater raised her finger and smoked her pipe. ‘Firstly, every so often there happens a person coming to Crossroads that has dreams of deicide and revolution for the sake of “the people”. They usually try to raise up a mob and I need to gently swipe them into the river so that they don’t spread it to ordinary folk. It’s quite effective, but since I do it as a deity there’s always one or two that slips away and continues to spread the poison until it’s time for cleansing. This year, I decided to have the people of this very town handle it for me. Not in my name, but in the name of their friend.’

‘Me?’

‘You were perfect,’ God Eater smoked again. ‘An unknown. Unashamed of her demonic heritage and ruthless, but also honest and respectful. You incited fear and hate in people who only saw you in the arena, but you made comrades of people who earned your trust. You lured out the masses, who through you wanted to hate me, against the few people who had some sort of faith in you.’

‘The townspeople won’t forget.’

‘Not outright, no. But town will be rebuilt, and the wounded healed. In a year’s time they’ll be treating you like another regular at Fox Den.’

Vilivian pondered that in silence.

‘What was the second reason?’

‘I wanted you to think about yourself.’ God Eater smoked her pipe.

‘What do you mean?’

‘The reason we had that conversation yesterday, after your fight was because I wanted you to decide on a wish that would be yours.’

‘Mine?’

‘If you wish for the Holy Grail to be destroyed, I will grant it. If you wish for your demonic half to cease, allowing your humanity to finally grow, I will do it. If you wish for your Friend to be brought back . . . I’d like to do it because you want to, not because you think you need to.’

God Eater smoked again and looked up. The clouds were drifting away from the Crossroads. Summer shining once again above the town.

‘If you lost, would you be able to live with that failure? Despite all you said about travelling the world with Volley, or on your own, or even returning to guarding the grail? Would you spend time in Crossroads, drinking and working at Saki’s, visiting Wendy, and partaking in all her deadly experiments?’

‘. . . I don’t think I could.’

‘Me either. Thus, I sowed that doubt.’

‘Why go that far for me? I never held you in high regard.’ Vilivian said with regret.

God Eater shrugged.

‘Empathy, maybe. Longing for companionship? I appreciated the few evenings we spent together at the bar, just drinking. I spend a lot of time with the residents there, but it’s rare to find someone who understands eternity.’

Vilivian couldn’t help but laugh.

‘So, even the God Eater has a human side.’

‘You’d develop yours too if you spent a millennium talking with humans instead of killing them.’

They both laughed shortly. Vilivian took a deep breath and turned around. She went to pick up Excalibur. It felt so light. Though the blade’s gone blunt it still retained its power.

She went for the scabbard and sheathed her keepsake safely and then returned to the God Eater. The deity looked at the sheathed sword and smoked.

‘Are you sure?’ she asked.

‘You already know.’

‘Sometimes, I like being surprised.’

‘So, you haven’t seen anything beyond my victory?’

‘I haven’t seen anything beyond your coming here.’

‘I see.’ Vilivian took one last glance at Piano. ‘I can wish for anything, right?’

‘I’ll grant you any wish, Vilivian. I can free you from your duty forever. I can allow you to be human. And I can, and will, bring your Friend back if you wish so.’

‘No matter my feelings?’

‘No matter.’

Vilivian thought for a moment.

‘There are many possibilities for me. To walk the world free would be . . . fun, I reckon. And becoming human would certainly be a fascinating experience. But I know what I am. And I have a promise to keep.’

God Eater sighed.

‘Of course, but before that,’ she snapped her fingers. Vilivian’s wounds healed, her clothing reappeared, and her hair was tied into a braid once more. There was still exhaustion, but she felt energized. ‘We need you to be looking your best at your long-awaited reunion, right?’

‘Thank you.’

‘Sure. Now, I know your wish, but the satisfaction should be yours.’

‘No, truly,’ Vilivian smiled brightly at the God Eater. ‘Thank you for everything, Chifu.’

The God Eater stared, deadpan. But then her lip trembled. She averted her gaze as she teared up slightly and Chifu started pouring out.

‘Piss it all,’ she complained. ‘Do you know how much effort goes into being a serious and earnest god?’ she wiped her eyes with her sleeve. ‘Brace yourself because I’m coming in for a hug.’

Chifu did as she said and wrapped tightly around Vilivian. The Matriarch hugged her back with one arm.

‘How does it feel hugging someone for the first time in your life?’ Chifu asked.

‘. . . Fluffy.’

‘You got that right.’ Chifu let go of her. ‘Now. Go ahead.’ Chifu said with earnest smile.

Vilivian nodded and swallowed. Her heart was beating fast. She was afraid of stuttering or mis-saying her wish. She could feel her eyes welling up.

She clutched Excalibur closely to her chest and finally took a deep breath.

‘Please,’ her voice cracked. Tears started pouring out. ‘Please, bring Arthur back to life.’

Chifu smiled warmly and raised her fingers, ready to snap.

‘Gladly.’

***

Vilivian

Vilivian

Vilivian

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[Vilivian] Reference

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Author's Notes

[Vilivian]: Audition

Reach the Crossroads and claim your wish.

[Vilivian] Round 1: Parallel Regrets

[Vilivian] Round 2: Good Fun

[Vilivian]: Round 3: The Allegory Between Instances of Aptitude and Practice