KGWrites

James

Aaron Trident’s Estate, City Outskirts, Kingdom of Aldiron

“Six guards outside the house, patrolling the grounds in teams of two. Four more at the main gates, and two at the front door.” James whispered as he silently reached the ground from the tree he had been perched in.

“Seems awfully light, considering he knows you’re coming.” Meghan replied from where she crouched, hidden behind a row of grapevines.

“It is.” James replied grimly. “You don’t make the jaws of the trap obvious, you make it seem so easy that the mouse goes straight for the cheese. Trident wants me to get inside. Then I can’t just run away so easily.” He glared down the slope towards the manor.

It had taken some time to reach the estate, but almost no time at all to get within the low wall that surrounded the grounds. While there were guards at the gate, the rest of the surroundings were unwatched, which gave James ample opportunity to find a way across the wall. And considering the small woodland that surrounded Trident’s home, finding trees close enough and tall enough to cross had been a surprisingly easy task.

Now it was all about taking it smart, working out the best approach to getting in so that Trident’s trap didn’t pay off exactly as he wanted it to.

Except that every minute he waited and planned was another minute that Trident held Alyx. James shuddered, shutting out the tormenting visions of what that monster could be doing already.

“So what do we do then?” Meghan asked him, pulling him away from the horrors. James turned to look at her and she gave him a soft, reassuring smile. Despite it all, he felt his heartbeat slow and calm again, the fears fading away. Turning back to the house, he clicked his tongue, watching the moving guards in the fading sunlight carefully.

“The low part at the back of the house there looks like a stable. If we cross over to that, deal with the guard patrol there and then climb up onto the roof of that section, then we can cross to the house and maybe get in through a window.” He said after a while.

“Won’t we be easy to spot on the roof?” Meghan asked and James tilted his head, agreeing wordlessly. He scratched his stubble and sucked his teeth in frustration. Even with only a few guards, Trident’s estate was well covered.

“Yes, but if we pull it off quick and quiet enough then we’ll be on the upper floor. Which wouldn’t be where I’d normally want to enter. Which is why I think we should do it. I’m betting everything on the ground level entrances will be covered, prepared for a thief like me to try and sneak in through.” He explained and Meghan nodded slowly, following his logic.

“So we only need to kill two men completely silently and climb and cross a rooftop unnoticed?” She said, going over the plan again. Then she nodded to herself. “I think I can help with that.”

James leaned back in surprise, following her meaning. He fixed Meghan with a questioning look.

“Meghan. I’m very glad you’ve come here to help me. To help us. But please don’t risk yourself like that for us. You’ve hidden it for so long, don’t reveal yourself just to help some thieves who aren’t worth it.” He told her. Meghan quickly moved up to him, placing her hand on his cheek. Her dark eyes locked to his firmly.

“Don’t ever think like that of yourself again. There are some things more important. Some people that are worth the risk. And that’s my choice.” She told him, her voice strong and steady. For a second, they stayed there, her hand held to his face and eyes locked before James gave a half nod of acceptance and Meghan dropped her hand back to her side.

They didn’t need to speak any further, their plan was made. All they needed to do was wait until the right moment came.

Then it did.

One of the other patrols rounded the corner of the house, losing sight of the one near the stable. Not even a second later, James and Meghan moved.

Sprinting low and fast they moved down the rows of grapevines, moving towards the manor’s stable but making sure to keep out of view of any windows. Then, when they reached the edge of the open gravelled land around the house, they came to a stop, crouching down.

They held for a second, with James slowly moving his hand in a silent countdown.

Three.

Two.

One.

Right on cue, the two-person patrol rounded the end of the stable into sight.

And straight into their ambush.

James loosed an arrow as he moved, an arrow that found its mark perfectly. With a near silent squelch, it pierced through the right hand man’s throat, punching perfectly out the back of his neck. He was dead before he even knew it, unable to scream out as his throat filled with his own blood.

The other man spun, seeing his companion laid low and looking around for the attacker. He opened his mouth to cry out an alarm. And no sound came.

Instead, his eyes bulged as he suddenly realised there was no air with which to take breath around his head as a rush of wind pulled the very breath from his lungs. With his free hand he began to flail at his throat trying to pry away the invisible vice that had closed around him.

Not skipping a beat and with her arm still outstretched, Meghan broke cover and whipped her curved sword across the man’s throat, slicing it open and leaving a small river of scarlet running down his neck. She reacted like lightning, removing her magic from the man’s throat and instead shifting to form a cushion of air that muffled the sound of his corpse hitting the gravel.

One step behind her, James grabbed the man he had shot by the wrist and hauled his body across the gravel, ducking into one of the empty stalls within the stable and rolling the corpse into the hay. Meghan followed suit with her target, pulling the stall door closed behind her and dropping into a crouch.

Barely five seconds had passed.

Panting slightly, the two gave each other an impressed nod. Meghan shifted her sleeve, pulling it tight across the pale white glow from her tattoo that shone from the end of it. After a second without tapping into the magic, the glow faded and Meghan took a long, deep breath. Once he was sure she had steadied herself properly, James moved over to the stall entrance.

Step one done.

No alarms sounded, no feet crunched in the gravel, no-one had noticed at all that two of their fellow guards had just been ambushed.

Breathing a sigh of relief, James turned and nodded to Meghan.

And then they were moving again. Running back out of the stalls and around to the end of the long, low stables building. Moving in harmony with Meghan without needing to voice the plan at all, James braced his back against the stone wall, locking his hands together and cupping them. Then Meghan ran towards him, placing her boot into his hands and jumping off of them at the same moment as he threw her upwards, boosting the jump so that she was able to roll herself onto the low roof.

A second later, she reappeared and hung her arm down, bracing herself against the roof. James took a few steps back from the wall, ready to take a running jump and grab her hand.

But he froze as the quiet murmur of approaching voices pricked his ears. Someone was coming down the far side of the stable, only a moment away from rounding the corner and catching the two of them.

Darting his vision around, James found he was out in the open, with the closest cover being back around the corner in the stall. But if he ran there now, he wasn’t sure he’d make it.

Only one option left.

Sucking breath in through his teeth and praying the patrol was further back than it sounded, James sprinted forwards leapt upwards. His hand locked to Meghan’s wrist, and he felt her grab him in turn. Then, she moved backwards, pulling him up the wall as he braced his foot against it and kicked upwards, driving himself up towards her.

He rolled onto the tiles of the roof right as the footsteps of the patrol below rounded the end of the building.

Lying flat to the roof, James and Meghan held their breath, hoping that the oncoming patrol had managed to hear nothing of their ascent.

The guards walked beneath them, barely an arm’s reach below the roof. But it seemed their conversation with one another had drowned out all the sounds of the two infiltrators as they carried on casually talking as they walked.

A moment later, they rounded the end of the building again, moving back down the other side of the long, low building.

Finally letting out a breath, James motioned to Meghan to keep low and to stay on the opposite side of the roof to the patrol. And then, painfully slowly, he led the way along the tiles.

Every step felt louder than a lightning bolt as he crept along, until eventually, he and Meghan reached the wall of the main house. Passing into the shadow of the structure, James was able to straighten and stretch himself out again, finally blocked from view of anyone not in the stable yard.

Looking along, James could see a balcony that looked out over the stable yard below just a short ways further down the wall from where he was now. Reaching it would be difficult though. The stable roof didn’t reach all the way along to it, so there was no way to walk there. He might be able to make the jump, but it likely wouldn’t be graceful, nor quiet. His face grim, he turned back to Meghan.

“Can you, I don’t know, throw me or something? I can’t reach on my own.” He whispered and Meghan pursed her lips, a sceptical look on her face.

“Throwing someone isn’t quiet or subtle. I’d need to create a lot of wind to do it.” She told him. James chewed his lip in annoyance and turned back towards the balcony.

Maybe if I-

“But,” Meghan continued from behind him, putting a hand on his shoulder and turning him back to face her. “I might be able to create a wind gust behind you as you jump, give you a boost through the air. Would that help?”

James thought about it for a moment. It would still need careful timing, because he’d need to take a run-up across the stable roof and then he’d really be putting his fate in Meghan’s hands. But considering that he’d jumped off a cliff the night before, this felt slightly more reasonable.

“Alright. But what about you? Once I’m across, how will you get there?” He asked.

“Timing the magic to help myself is much easier than on someone else, I’ll follow once I know you’re safely across.” Meghan explained with a smile like she had just described the simplest thing in the world. Despite it all, James smiled back.

Then, after making sure no more patrols were nearby, James backed up to the edge of the roof. Crouching low and ready to sprint, he looked up to Meghan, who gave him a nod, her hands already twisting in practiced motions.

Here goes nothing then.

And then James sprinted across the roof, covering it in just a few quick strides and pushing off with his foot at the very last possible second and leaping forwards towards the balcony.

Just as he reached the apex of the jump, James felt the air around him suddenly push at his back, like wind in a gale. It wasn’t much, more like a hard shove than a constant push, but still it moved him forwards through the air.

He could see the balcony ahead of him, now much closer. Before he would have dropped below it just before reaching it. Now though…

Too much!

He was coming in too high, too fast. He was going to not only land on the balcony but hit the wall beyond it. And at this speed, that hit would hurt.

With no other option, all James could do was tuck his head below his hands and brace for the hit. But then, just as he cleared the edge of the balcony, the air around him seemed to thicken and his momentum suddenly slowed to barely above a walking pace.

Lifting his head, James quickly reached out with his left hand, gripping the stone wall that guarded the balcony edge and pulling himself back. His momentum stopped and he dropped to the balcony, landing nearly silently on the balls of his feet in a crouch.

A couple of seconds later, Meghan joined him, landing in a graceful roll that muffled the sound of her arrival. She looked over apologetically to James and wiped sweat from her brow with her sleeve.

“Sorry, you’re lighter than you look.” She explained, her voice sounding embarrassed.

“I’ll take it as a complement.” James replied with a quick smile to show he wasn’t upset at her nearly smashing him off a wall. Then he looked around the balcony, spotting the door that led into the main house itself.

“Into the monster’s lair then?” He muttered and Meghan nodded, a resolute and steely determination on her face.

Crossing to the door, James reached up and pushed. Miraculously, it was unlocked, swinging inwards to a darkened room beyond. James silently thanked whichever God of the Village had seen fit to bless him with that luck, and then ducked into the darkness.

It took a second to adjust to the darkness of the room but as his vision came to him, James found himself in what looked like a comfortable personal study. A fur rug covered the wooden floor, helping to muffle James and Meghan’s movements as they entered the room, pushing the door closed behind them. A desk stood at one end of the room to the right of the balcony door, which Meghan now moved towards. The wall opposite the balcony held a door that led deeper into the house, and two landscape paintings either side of it. Had James been here to rob the place, they likely would have made excellent targets. To the left of them was a wall with a long low cabinet flanked on either side by tall glass fronted bookshelves. Within them was a combination of books and ledgers along with other oddities and items, like a bizarre trophy cabinet.

But it was what was carefully mounted to the wall between the two bookshelves as a centrepiece to the wall that froze James in place like he had been rooted to the spot.

A suit of armour. In an older style but still noticeably that of an officer in one of Aldiron’s legions. It was the wrong size to be Trident’s, but James didn’t need to wonder at all where it had come from.

He knew that armour well.

He knew seeing that armour had once meant that everything was right in the world.

Because seeing that armour had meant that his mother was home.

He murdered her and strung up her armour on display. Like a trophy for a hunter.

James could only stare, his breath coming shaky and ragged, paralysed by what he saw before him.

He wasn’t sure how long passed while he stood there, staring in shock. But by the time he did manage to shake himself free of it, he realised that Meghan was whisper-calling his name. She had papers strewn across the desk, and had cleared a space in the centre, with a single document sat in it. Seeing him turn, she waved him over, her face grim.

Swallowing the bile that had risen in his throat, James tore his gaze from his mother’s armour and moved over to Meghan. Rage boiled beneath the surface, but he firmly pushed a lid down atop it. Rage here would make him reckless, make him make mistakes, and both Meghan and Alyx’s lives were on the line. Recklessness he couldn’t afford.

He looked down at the letter that Meghan had found. She had placed it in a small shaft of light that meant that by straining his eyes, he could read it without a light source.

Everything is in place for the Falcons’ fall from the sky. The serpents await the Dragon’s word and the way to the nest shall be opened.

A.T

It was a simple message, and written in a strange code, all implications and without direct speak. And yet, the meaning was clear enough.

“Trident’s men are going to let Draconeus into Aldiron. Open the gates for him.” James said quietly and Meghan nodded, still staring down at the paper, her fingers drumming on the hilt of her sword. Her hand kept shifting, changing from the tight, white knuckled grip of rage to a rapid staccato drumming as she chewed her lip, clearly processing the information.

After a second, she gestured to a pile of sealed envelopes on the desk. James began leafing through them, all were unaddressed, blank on the front but sealed with a black wax seal that bore the stylised symbol of a dragon, twisting in flight. He’d seen it in enough historical and political tomes over the past months of research to recognise it instantly.

The black dragon of Shetani, Draconeus’ sigil.

Letters of orders, to be delivered to the people helping Draconeus within the city.

James stared at the letters for a moment, pondering their next move.

This changes nothing!

It changes everything, no-one but Trident knows who the sympathisers are.

He has to die!

If he dies before we know what he knows, the city, all of us, we follow. And then what was the point of coming here to save Alyx in the first place?

But that’s not fair!

He stood still, at war with himself. His breaths were heavy and angry, his eyes squeezed shut and his fist vice like around the grip of his sword.

And then, after a moment, he stopped. His grip released and his eyes slowly opened, seeing Meghan watching him wide eyed, clearly trying to gauge his response.

“Gather those into a pack, we’ll take them with us. Haster’s needed evidence to bring Trident down for years, let’s give it to him. Then let’s get my sister and get out of here.” James said, his voice a low growl.

“And Trident?” Meghan asked.

“Let’s hope he doesn’t get in our way.” James responded coldly. Drawing the shortsword into his left hand, James moved to the door out of the room and carefully opened it a crack.

Beyond, he saw a wooden corridor, art lining the walls and a couple of doors leading off to the sides. This area was lit up by chandeliers hung from the ceiling and James could make out that a little further down the hallway to the left was an open space, likely a staircase that would lead down.

If I were a sick maniac, where would I keep my prisoners?

Despite the question, James knew where Trident would have Alyx.

In the cellar, the same place that he held us before.

Just ahead, two guards, a tall man and a dark-skinned woman, were approaching down the corridor. Clearly Trident had been smart enough to put patrols inside the house too.

Behind him, James heard Meghan slide the satchel she wore at her side back into place, having carefully secured the letters inside it. Then she stepped up next to him, placing one hand on his shoulder, letting him know she was ready.

He waited until the guards were next to the door before he moved, pulling it open in a single swift motion and rushing out, his shortsword arcing perfectly through the tall man’s throat with a whisper.

Then he brought the blade up, stabbing it forwards towards the woman. But she had been quicker on the uptake than he had expected.

She sidestepped quickly, dodging around his blade and preparing to call out an alarm. Again, Meghan’s magic seized around the guard’s throat like a choking fist, but unlike the man she had done it too outside, the woman didn’t immediately panic.

Instead, she stepped backwards, away from Meghan. One hand came up to her throat more out of instinct than anything else.

James moved again, coming at her quickly.

And playing right into her hands.

Dodging again, the woman grabbed James’ wrist and twisted, hooking her leg behind his knee and throwing him through the air. He collided with the wall of the corridor with a crash that sounded so much louder than it was after the silence they’d worked so hard to cultivate.

The air was knocked from James’ lungs, and he dropped to one knee, sliding down the wall as the crash was echoed by another sound further down the corridor.

The horrid, growling barking of angry guard dogs.

So much for surprise.

James picked himself up quickly, turning to see Meghan pulling her bloody sword from the guard’s heart. She didn’t bother to muffle the sound of the body hitting the ground now though as the barking was joined by cries of alarm and rushing feet as guards throughout the estate responded to the intruders.

James quickly pulled his bow from his back, holding both it and his shortsword in his left hand as he nocked an arrow with his right.

A door opened at the far end of the hallway, a guard’s frame filling it. James wasted no time in letting the arrow he had ready fly. It hit the man in his upper chest, and he fell backwards into the room, blocking the door for anyone behind him.

James didn’t stop to see if he was dead, he just kept moving. Meghan was behind him as they both sprinted along the hallway.

A door on the left opened, a guard stepping out with a sword drawn. A quick cut from Meghan sent both the sword and the hand holding it clattering to the ground.

A dog emerged at the top of the stairs, huge, hairy and black. Saliva dripped from its hungry jaws. It didn’t even have time to react in any pain as James released an arrow directly between its eyes, dropping it instantly.

Then James and Meghan were rounding the corner onto the stairs, which led down into a wide entrance hall to the house. The main entrance doors were wide open now and the two guards James had seen posted at them were inside, both aiming crossbows up at James and Meghan.

In a split-second reaction, James rolled sideways, hitting the banister to the stairs and rolling over it, dropping down to the floor below. The crossbow bolt whistled through the air he’d occupied just a second later.

Meghan’s must have missed too because as James rolled out the impact and came back to his feet on the lower floor, she was at the bottom of the stairs, charging into the nearest guard as he tried to reload his crossbow. With a quick cut, Meghan cut him down. As she moved to the other door guard however, another man emerged from a corridor that led deeper into the house and charged her.

His sudden appearance caught Meghan off guard and she stumbled, twisting herself to swing her sword around in a defensive arc. But the move was that bit too wild and swung wide, cutting the air to the guard’s side as he dodged before continuing his charge, colliding with Meghan and lifting her off her feet, slamming her into the wall of the house.

James heard her cry out in response to the hit and turned, nocking an arrow and taking aim at the guard’s back.

But before he could loose the shot another guard charged into his side, knocking him down to the ground and causing the arrow to shoot wide, embedding into the wall with a dull thud.

James felt his grip slacken and his shortsword’s hilt slide between his fingertips as the guard that had tackled him pushed down with their full weight, pinning him.

Need to move, if I’m stuck, I’m dead.

But he couldn’t, the guard atop him was too heavy to shift, and even as he rolled and twisted, trying to wriggle free, James felt his arm holding his bow get stood on by another. The pressure was enough to make James’ grip on his bow slacken and he felt it drop from his grip as his other hand was wrenched painfully around behind his back and pinned there.

Still struggling but getting no closer to freedom, James managed to turn his head to look towards Meghan.

And instantly he realised that they’d failed.

Meghan was pinned to the wall next to the front door of the house, the guard that had tackled her held his arm pressed against her throat and his other hand held her left arm in place. Her right arm was outstretched, her sword still held tight in it, but it too was pinned by the other crossbowman. As James watched, a trickle of blood emerged from beneath Meghan’s hairline, a single ruby tear running down the perfect terracotta skin of her face. She gritted her teeth and struggled, but pinned as she was, there was very little Meghan could do.

James turned his head back, staring down towards the floor as he tried in vain to lift himself up. But when that failed, all he could do was scream out his anger against the wooden boards.

Which is when he heard the applause.

A single, slow clapping, accompanied by footsteps, was approaching his left side, from somewhere deeper in the house. And then the voice came.

A voice that had haunted James since he was a child. Just the sound of it made him stop struggling and freeze.

“Colour me impressed Mr Cobalt.” Aaron Trident said as he strode into James’ view, his hands clasped as he finished applauding. “The passion, the rage, the determination. A truly inspiring performance.”

The devil crouched down into James’ view, reaching out his gloved burned hand to brush away some hair that had fallen into James’ eye, like a caring parent might do a child. James snarled at him.

“Don’t get me wrong, I expected you to make it within the estate. But into the house? Now that takes skill.” Trident continued, grinning down at James like a wolf over a fresh kill. Then he straightened, stepping over James and striding towards Meghan.

As he did so though, James caught sight of the sword that he wore on his belt and the feeling he had felt in the study returned a hundred-fold. The deep blue scabbard and polished silver decorations were burned in his memory.

You display her armour like a hunting trophy, and you wear her sword like it’s yours?

James felt sick as Trident drew his mother’s sword from its scabbard and pointed it towards Meghan’s chest as she struggled against the wall.

“And you brought Lady Meghan Whiteoak to help you. After I expressly told you to come alone.” He admonished, clicking his tongue in an amused tutting sound. The blade inched closer to Meghan’s stomach and she actively tried to shift away beneath the guards’ grips, moving her chest to the left, away from the point of the sword. Her umber-brown eyes, wide with fear, locked with James’. And suddenly he found his voice.

“You told me no guards, no knights and no royals. Meghan’s none of those things. I kept to your fucking rules!” James snarled and Trident turned back to him, lowering the sword from Meghan. He tilted his head, seemingly considering James’ words.

“True. I perhaps wasn’t specific enough. That’s on me. Let me clear it up for you.” He said. Then he nodded to the man on James’ back.

James felt a hand grip his hair and haul his head back fast, another hand pushed against the side of his head, cradling it so he couldn’t turn away.

Then the man slammed James face back down into the wooden floor.

Once. Twice. Three Times.

James’ nose broke and burst on the first hit, splattering the ground and his face with red blood. The crunch echoed in his mind like yelling into an empty room. Slowly, his world became a ringing, scarlet tinted blur.

When the second hit came, a distant, muffled scream reached James’ ears. Somewhere at the back of his mind, James knew that it was Meghan, screaming out his name desperately.

By the third hit, his vision was starting to blacken at the edges and he felt ready to fall asleep.

Then suddenly he was awake again as his head was yanked upwards by the hair, bringing him eye to eye with Aaron Trident. Just as he’d thought the man couldn’t look any more fiendish, the scarlet red of James’ own blood now tinted his vision and stained the burned side of Trident’s face.

“Is that clear enough for you Mr Cobalt?” Trident asked, a sick glee glimmering in his eyes.

James took a ragged breath, his nose was filled with blood and it dripped down as he tried to breath, causing him to choke slightly. Still though he managed to muster the energy to spit a glob of blood into Trident’s face.

Drawing back, Trident wiped the blood from his face with his sleeve.

“Both you and your sister make terrible house guests you know.” He said, before gesturing towards Meghan again.

“Seeing as you’ve brought along your pet, why don’t we let her play with mine?”

The grip on James’ head loosened and he turned to look at Meghan. She was still pinned, her face twisted in fear as she looked at him. A snarling sound came from nearby as a red-haired woman led another black dog on a chain to stand behind the men pinning her to the wall. The monster snarled and drooled, pulling on the chain as it tried to reach Meghan, who watched it, terrified.

James whipped his head back to Trident, ignoring the rush of blood it brought into his throat as he spluttered out words.

“Let her go. She’s not who you want.” He begged and Trident held up his hand, causing the woman to stop with the dog, pulling the animal back from Meghan.

“And what do I want James?” He asked simply, looking down at James as one would an insect in their house.

“Me. You want me, and Alyx, suffering. Because we burned you.” James said hurriedly. He’d been thinking on that a lot, why Trident was going to so much trouble for them. This debt’s been a long time in the settling, the letter had said. And he’d signed it The Burned Man. Vengeance was the only explanation that fit.

Trident looked pleasantly surprised, looking down at James with a strange amount of appreciation.

“Well, that’s surprising. But then I suppose you’re something of an expert in what someone might want after a crippling injury.” He said, waving to something outside of James’ view, beckoning whatever it was over.

“You’re right. Your suffering will be blissful to watch. And considering the recent problems you’ve caused, I’m honestly eager to get started. So…” Trident trailed off, taking a step back and throwing his arm out towards whatever James couldn’t see.

Suddenly James felt cold liquid splash across his side, starting from his left leg and spreading upwards. Then, slowly coming into view as they moved up his side and along his pinned left arm, was a guard, upending a small barrel of wine over James. It took James a moment to understand what he was seeing, but as soon as he did, ice cold dread settled in his heart.

“We’ll start with letting you feel what I’ve felt for the last twelve years. The unimaginable agony of fire eating at your flesh. Once that’s done, I’ll finish taking the fingers I started so long ago. After that… we’ll have to see.” Trident said with a horrific laugh.

From down the corridor that Trident had emerged from, another figure appeared, accompanied by the stench of smoke and the crackling of coals. This man wore a leather glove over his hand, in which he carried a small iron brazier. Bright yellow flames danced within it, wrapping around and up a long metal rod that James could see from where he was pinned was already glowing red hot.

Slowly, the rod was drawn from the brazier. Sparks danced off the metal as the man drew closer to James with it.

Behind James, he could hear Meghan struggle, screaming his name out. He heard the dog bark back at her and Trident begin laughing. But he couldn’t turn his head, he was fixed to the approaching fire.

Closer.

James closed his eyes and prayed it would be quick.

Alyx, Meghan, Lillian, I’m sorry. I failed you. Mother, father, I’m coming home.

And then he waited for the fire.

A second passed.

Two.

And then, where there should have been a rush of flame, there was instead a strange gargling sound and a metallic thud.

James opened his eyes, confused. And what he saw at first didn’t seem to make any sense.

The man with the burning rod had dropped the piece of metal and instead had lifted his hand to his neck, a look of deep confusion on his face. He gripped something, and then with a sickening squelch, he lifted whatever it was from his neck and looked at it.

It was a short handled throwing axe.

And it was soaked in his blood.

Still looking extremely confused, the man dropped forwards, slamming down onto the floor face first and revealing the corridor behind him.

Time stood still.

And now it was James’ turn to be confused.

Stood there, soaked in blood and sweat and gods only knew what else, with one arm still outstretched from throwing the axe and with the other holding a familiar looking iron headed mace, was someone impossible.

Alyxandra Cobalt.