Brannoc grabbed Maeve from his arms without a word, lowering her to the ground and hovering his hands over her body slowly. A dark blue glow spread over her from his palms, but the elf’s eyes were closed.

  “Tell me what happened?” Brannoc said without looking up.

  Seeing his mentor naked, waving his hands over his best friend would have been means for endless ridicule in any other situation, but she was dying. Now was not the time. “Kael Vireth. He’s the one that’s been employing the alchemists. I think he is working for someone though. He…” Greg swallowed hard and gestured at Maeve.

  “What son? He what?” The sharp, unforgiving tone he’d expected didn’t come. Instead, he found calm and understanding in Brannoc’s voice.

  “He dosed her. He’s got an army of abominations out in the forest. All of them made with Frost. The good stuff.” He looked over his shoulder at the way he’d come. Autumn was still out there. “I have to go back.”

  Brannoc’s eyes opened, brows furrowing at him. “To the horde of abominations? Why?” he asked as he called over the lizardfolk who was carrying a bag for him.

  “I..” Greg took a shuddering breath. “Tell me you can save her.”

  “Do what I can,” Brannoc said, opening Maeve’s mouth and dumping a clear, frothy liquid into her mouth.

  Greg nodded and knelt down again. He gently kissed Maeve’s forehead and whispered to her. “I believe in you. You’re stronger than this shit.” Swallowing hard, he glanced up at Brannoc, seeing far more of the man than he’d ever wanted to see. “Take care of her.”

  Brannoc gave him a nod. “Be careful, son.”

  He nodded back as he took a few short steps backward, eyes lingering on Maeve, before turning and sprinting back for the docks.

  “I’m on my way back. Are you alright?” He wasn’t sure how the chat feature worked exactly, but if she could hear Isabella in his head, he imagined just thinking the words at her would get his message across.

  “I’d suggest against it. I’m running.” Autumn said.

  “Do you know where the portal is? Just take that.”

  “Yeah, that’s not going to happen. The fight brought in the predators. I might be able to double back, but when I left a pack of drakes were fighting those Frost abominations.”

  Greg frowned, but kept running. “I’ll be back in five minutes. Meet me at the portal.”

  ###

  Greg stepped through the portal and found the landscape around him completely changed. Felled trees, including the one that once housed the portal, now cluttered the mossy ground, leaving the sun beating down on him. To his left, four ten foot long lizards were ripping apart the Frost abominations, sending goo and tentacles flying in all directions.

  He took in the rest of the carnage. A dying drake lay beneath a fallen tree near him, making a terrible crying noise that tugged at something inside him. What looked like hundreds of abominations lay in pieces around the portal as he trudged over to the suffering drake. Delivering a swift stab, Light Drinker buried into the beast, and the crying stopped.

  The other drakes had finished off the remaining abominations, one of them turning in his direction as shadow covered the now clearing. A violent gust pushed the air downward, and Greg finally looked up. Each wing of the butterfly above him was at least as large as one of the drakes, sporting the beautiful yellow and black patter of the monarch’s of earth. Its body was a dark purple, and extending from it were dozens of spiny tentacles. Two of them shot out, wrapping around the drake. Blood rose from the spots the spines protruded, and it was hoisted into the air.

  “Incoming!” Autumn called out from behind him, tearing his vision from the grotesque beauty above him to the drake that was scurrying in his direction.

  Greg vanished from his spot, landing on the back of the drag and driving his rapier down into its neck with a flame strike. Autumn had three more drakes running after her, but she drew her sword as she ran at the drake trying to buck him off and drove its emerald blade into its chest.

  Leaping off its back, Greg started to run toward the drakes she’d pulled toward them. The shadow of the enormous monarch had shrunk, but not disappeared. As the fight went on, Greg doing his damndest to not look like a scrub in front of Autumn, the only thing that reminded him it was still there was the occasional gust from its wings. Then it started raining blood.

  After stacking up numerous burning blood stacks on the next drake, he took a moment to look up. It was just high enough that he couldn’t make it out perfectly, but the purple body had a large red section in the center. Judging by the enormous drake slowly disappearing into it and showering them in its bodily fluids, he was assuming it was a mouth.

  It wasn’t going to take long for that meal to be devoured, and Greg didn’t particularly want to be the next one. Time to pull out all the stops and get the hell out of here. He took a look at his volatility and resonance bars, noting that he could now see Autumn’s name in the top left of his vision with two bars that he didn’t recognize.

  Volatility: 30 of 100

  Divine Resonance: 60 of 100

  Demonic Resonance: 61 of 100

  Ruin Edict

  Level 1: 99 of 100

  Execute the will of the gods at any cost

  After eclipsing forty resonance, you may choose to convert all resonance into volatility after a delay. This will heal any non-lethal wounds and temporarily double your strength, dexterity, constitution, and luck for a limited time. Dominant resonance at the time of using Ruin Edict determines additional effects.

  Cooldown: Long rest (minimum eight hours)

  Demonic activation:

  -Wounds cauterize with infernal fire

  -Radiate oppressive heat and shadow

  -Attacks apply burning effect

  Decrease all Resonance to 0

  Lasts 1 second per 1 resonance

  If you find this story on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the infringement.

  After the effect ends, increase volatility by half the amount of total purged resonance.

  His strength, dexterity, constitution, and luck all doubled, leaving them at twelve, thirty-six, sixteen, and fourteen respectively. Using the sudden burst of power, Greg flickered across the field. He never lingered on one of the drakes long enough for it to focus on him, laying in as many alternating strikes as he could in the minute he had before the edict ran out. His focus was on stacking as much burning blood as possible, but he had to keep the resonance in check.

  Every time he hit thirty resonance, he used a volatile step immediately, often times landing atop another drake to drive his rapier between the scales of its neck and skull. His fingers gripped a cluster of scales, the increased strength allowing him to rip them from the neck of the lizard. The beat of wings got closer, disturbing the ground with heavy gusts.

  “Think it’s about time we get out of here.” Autumn spoke through her chat feature directly into his mind.

  He drove the Light Drinker into the neck of the beast he sat on a few more times before jumping off. It thrashed, smacking him with its tail and sending him sailing in the opposite direction of the portal. One of the monarch’s spiked limbs unfurled from its enormous thorax, whipping in his direction. He vanished from his spot on the ground, appearing next to Autumn mid sprint.

  “Let’s go!”

  The two of them dove through the portal, landing in a heap in the dusty warehouse. Greg leaned back against the shelves, taking deep gasping breaths as he look up at Autumn. Questions raced through his mind. How had she gotten here? How long had she been here? She’d not been a fighter on Earth, so what had she been doing to learn?

  “Is your friend alright?” She silenced his questions with one of her own as she pushed herself to her feet.

  “I don’t know.” He frowned, looking down at the swirling opalescent pool. “I got her to our friend. He’s a healer…I hope he was able to do something.”

  “Me too.” She said offering her hand to help him up. “Why is there a portal in this warehouse? And who was talking through my chat?”

  “Good question…and would you believe it’s really complicated?” Greg pursed his lips, nostrils flaring and eyebrows going up.

  “My name is Isabella. Greg has told me a lot about you.”

  The tiny white pupils in Autumn’s violet eyes shot back and forth, looking for the source of the voice. When it became obvious no one was there, she gave Greg a quizzical look.

  He shrugged. “I told you. It’s complicated.”

  “Explain then.” Autumn crossed her arms, one hip jutting out in a stance he’d seen countless times before.

  “I don’t..” Greg started.

  “It’s fine. She already knows I’m here, best to quell the curiosity before it gets out of hand.” Isabella spoke into his mind, which made it even weirder that Autumn could hear it. “Strictly speaking I am dead. I was a soul drifting in the astral sea, when the gods were pulling Greg here and putting his body back together I snuck aboard.”

  Autumn stared at him, silent for long enough for his stomach to start churning.

  Greg cupped the back of his neck, massaging it between his fingers. “That’s pretty much the gist of it, I guess.”

  “Uhuh…” She still stared at him incredulously, but her full lips closed into a slight smile. “You’re not dead then?”

  He opened his mouth to answer, but after a beat of nothing coming out, all his mouth could generate was a snort as he started to laugh. She joined in, though it didn’t last long before ending in a quiet heaviness.

  “We should probably get out here before the owners show up…” Greg glanced from the ground up into her eyes. “I need to go check on Maeve. Wanna come with me?”

  Autumn lifted her head to the heavy fog, then gave a slight shrug. “I suppose I can spare a few minutes.” She gave him a teasing wink as they turned to start walking away from the docks. “So are you two…”

  “Me and Maeve?” Greg’s eyes went wide. “Gross. No. Absolutely not.”

  “Wow. That’s rude.”

  “No, not like that.” Greg let out a breathy laugh. “She’s more like a big sister. She was the first person I met when I got here…kinda guided me through everything. Her and Brannoc.”

  “Brannoc Stroud?” Autumn raised an eyebrow at him.

  “Yeah, you know him?”

  “Only by reputation. He’s the one that trained you?” She asked, looking off toward the wall in the distance.

  “Yeah. It was a little rough at first, but eventually I fell into a groove, I guess.”

  “There has been no groove. It’s been an uphill battle of near death scrapes for almost a year.” Isabella corrected him.

  “Near death scrapes?” Autumn smirked, looking him up and down. “From you?”

  Greg felt heat rise in his cheeks and tried to rub the blush away. “That’s an exaggeration. A couple rough spots, maybe.” He cleared his throat and quickly changed the subject. “How did you get here? Did those Deva kill you too?”

  Autumn pushed her thumbs into the front of the padded leather pants and shook her head. “No, it sounds like my transition was a little less chaotic.”

  “Less chaotic was an option? I got shanked in a bathroom…”

  As they walked and talked, Greg found it oddly comforting how easy it was to fall back into a rhythm with her. He thought about the letters he’d written to his brother, and how many times he’d sat down to write one to her, but could never get the words out. He’d noted she didn’t expand on her transition being less chaotic, but he didn’t push. As curious as he was, it didn’t matter.

  She’d just finished telling him about how she’d been fighting in the arena since she arrived as they neared Brannoc’s house. Greg felt his stomach roil with nerves and her voice fade into background noise. He jumped slightly as warm fingers curled into the hair at the nape of his neck.

  “I can wait out here…if you want?” Autumn spoke just barely above a whisper.

  “No…no, it’s alright.” He swallowed hard and led her up the steps, knocking on the door firmly. It opened unassisted, and he called in. “I’ve got a guest!” He looked over his shoulder at her. “He’s got some kind of security enchantment thing… just take a minute.”

  “Hurry up.” Brannoc’s coarse grumble wasn’t loud, but felt like it came from all around them.

  Greg led her inside, down the short hallway, and left into the den where Brannoc sat in his chair with Maeve laid out on a pile of blankets a couple of feet from the fire. She wasn’t a disgusting monster, so there was that at least.

  “Brannoc, this is Autumn. Autumn, Brannoc Stroud.” Greg said, obviously distracted, before dropping to his knees near Maeve’s head. They exchanged niceties behind him. Were he not otherwise occupied, he would likely have commented on how nice he was being to her and how much of an asshole he was when they first met…but Maeve was the priority. “How is she?”

  The rocking chair creaked as Brannoc leaned forward over his shoulder. “Purged the Frost toxin. Still in bad shape, though.”

  Greg looked back at him, searching the elf’s blood-red eyes for some semblance of hope and coming up lacking. “She’ll be okay though, right? She’ll recover?”

  Brannoc’s lips formed a thin, tight line. He gave the slightest shrug and shake of his head. “With the gods now, son.”

  Greg ground his teeth, and his eyes welled. “No… that’s not right. They brought that stupid fucking Rillon kid back to life. Maeve’s not even dead. You’ve gotta be able to do something.”

  “Done all I can,” Brannoc spoke softly, pushing herbs into his pipe. “All we can do now is wait.”

  “Wait?” Greg scoffed and turned to face him, still on his knees. “Wait for what? The fucking gods? They were trying to bargain with me to help her! There has to be something else.”

  Brannoc eyes shifted down, hiding under heavy lids. “Sorry, son. I wish there was more I could…”

  Greg slapped the pipe out of his hand, sending it sailing across the room as loose herbs drifted to the carpet like fall leaves. He shot to his feet. “No! You don’t get to give up on her!” His breathing became ragged and vision blurred. “Her father died on your watch! You’re all she has left!”

  “Greg!” Isabella snapped at him.

  He felt Autumn reach for his hand, but he pushed it away. Brannoc’s expression had not changed, though his eyes had shifted from Maeve up to Greg’s. A single stream of moisture tracked from the inner corner of his eye along his nose and got lost in his facial hair.

  His throat tightened as he blinked away tears. “I-it’s my fault.” Greg choked out. “She should’ve never been there. If she dies…”

  Brannoc slowly stood, and Greg braced for what was certainly going to be the beating of a lifetime. He took one step closer to him, and then wrapped his arms around his shoulders. Greg struggled to push him away, but the difference in their strength made it feel like trying to escape from gravity itself. If gravity were warm…and leaking tears on his shoulder.

  He wrapped his arms around the man’s torso as best he could…and wept.