Paragon of Destruction

When they awoke in the morning, Arran felt some shock when he saw Negin.

Her skin was bright red all over, and in some places, it was beginning to blister. Even with the pills, it seemed that she was already close to reaching her limit.

And yet, he knew that they still had a long way to go. Because as his sword’s Sense told him, the area they were in was completely devoid of treasure.

"You look like you’ve slept well," she said, casting a look at Arran that held suspicion and envy in equal parts.

And no wonder. Even without the pills, Arran’s skin was only barely beginning to show signs of the barrage of violent Essence. While the feeling had become mildly unpleasant by now, the environment was no more than a small nuisance to him — certainly not the threat it was to Negin.

Arran shugged. "I’m ahead of you in Body Refinement."

There was some truth to the answer. With Arran’s strength in Body Refinement, his body would heal small injuries far faster than Negin’s would. Yet so far, his resistance to magic meant that there weren’t any injuries to heal in the first place.

Negin looked at him with barely veiled incredulity. "How did you become so strong without the Imperium’s methods?"

It was a question she’d asked at least a dozen times since they met, and none of Arran’s answers had satisfied her curiosity. But telling her the truth wasn’t an option, and he responded with another shrug.

"I’ve already told you," he said. "Hard work and good fortune. But we should get moving. The sooner we’re out of here, the better."

"Are you sure we should be moving further?" Negin looked at him uncomfortably, obviously fearful of the environment growing even harsher.

"I am," Arran replied. "If we want a chance at finding weapons, we’ll have to head deeper into the battlefield."

Negin sighed, then gave him a small nod. Although she said nothing, the worry in her eyes was as clear as the burns on her skin.

They set off again only moments later, traveling further into the wasteland as the sun began its ascent into the sky. And as twilight faded, the light of day illuminated a landscape that spoke only of ruin and devastation.

This far into the battlefield, the remnants of battle still looked fresh, as if the battle had been fought months rather than decades ago. The ground around them was rough, torn asunder by magic the likes of which Arran could only barely imagine.

It looked as if mile-high giants had descended from the heavens and plowed the earth until not a single spot of ground remained untouched. There were gorges running haphazardly through the area, tens of paces deep, and gaping craters riddled the earth like giant pockmarks.

Had Arran not know it was a battlefield, he might have thought it was the site of some great natural disaster — a cataclysm beyond human comprehension, with the earth itself rising up against those who dwelt its surface.

Yet he knew that the devastation before him had been wrought by mages. And for all their power, mages were ultimately just humans.

The sight made it easy to understand why commoners would distrust mages. The power to unleash destruction on such a scale caused even Arran to feel uneasy.

They navigated the forbidding landscape as best they could, clambering across gorges and craters for half the morning. And the further they traveled, the stronger the effects of the Essence on Negin grew.

By now, much of her body held burns and blisters, and although the wounds were still superficial, Arran knew that would not last much longer. This close to the center of the battlefield, the pressure of Essence grew stronger with every step.

Then, he Sensed something through his sword — starmetal, barely half a mile away.

"We should search over there," he said, pointing in the direction of the treasure his sword had found.

"Why there?" Negin asked, somehow still curious despite her obvious suffering.

"The damage is heavier over there," Arran said. "That could mean there was heavier fighting in that area — and perhaps more casualties."

He’d invented the explanation on the spot, but with a closer look, he saw it might not be far from the truth. While the devastation was near-complete wherever he looked, the area his sword had indicated seemed particularly ravaged.

Negin agreed without any further questions or objections. Even if the hostile environment hadn’t shaken her wits just yet, every second on the battlefield was an effort to her, and she had little energy to spare for argument.

When they reached the area that held the piece of starmetal, Arran searched for half an hour, curious to see if there would be something his sword had missed. Yet he found nothing, and eventually, he moved to the spot his sword had Sensed.

There, buried under some crumbling pieces of rock, he found a weapon — a long, curved dagger, exquisitely crafted and made completely from starmetal.

He took the weapon in his hand, then called out, "I found something!"

Negin came running instantly. While the pressure of Essence had slowed her earlier, the excitement of a discovery reinvigorated her in an instant.

When she arrived, Arran made a disappointed face, then handed her the weapon.

"It’s just a dagger," he said. "You can have it."

"Are you sure?" Negin looked at him with astonishment, shocked that he’d give up the treasure so easily.

Arran feigned a sigh. "It’s no use to me," he said. "I need a proper weapon. But this should help you, shouldn’t it? With this, you can head back."

Yet as he spoke, a frown crossed her face. Then, she shook her head. "I can’t," she said. "Like you said, it’s not a proper weapon. Returning with this..." She sighed deeply. "It would bring me honor, but not nearly as much as a real weapon would."

Arran frowned at her words. He’d expected that the dagger would be enough for her to leave the battlefield, especially in her current condition.

In truth, he’d long wanted to be rid of her. It was clear that her body wouldn’t withstand the pressure much longer, and her presence was an obstacle to his real search.

"But you can’t go much further," Arran said. "At most, you’ll last another day or two, and that’s if you’re lucky."

"I have to," she replied sharply, her expression determined despite the burns on her face. "This is a chance I won’t get again. I can’t give up now. Not when we’re this close..."

Arran realized that arguing would achieve nothing, so he gave her a nod. "Then let’s hurry."

They set off again without delay, though Negin left her sword behind. Instead, she held the dagger in her hand, gripping it so tightly her knuckles were left white from the effort.

By midday, they still hadn’t found anything else, and Arran was beginning to grow increasingly worried about his companion.

He could see that the girl was struggling with every step she took, and she looked as if she’d fallen into a blacksmith’s forge. In several places, her skin was cracked and bleeding, and he worried that she could fall at any moment, never to get up again.

Yet each time he urged her to return, she merely clenched her jaw and refused. Even now, with her body on the brink of failure, she was determined to achieve her goal.

Arran wasn’t sure whether to be impressed with her perseverance or disappointed at her stupidity. It was clear that she was determined to succeed even if it cost her her life — which, if they didn’t find something soon, it most likely would.

Just after midday, however, Arran’s sword Sensed something that instantly caused the girl to slip to the back of his mind. Just under a mile away, there was something he could not have dreamed to find in the battlefield — a shard of Living Shadow.

At once, Arran pointed in the direction of the treasure. "There," he said, unable to fully keep the excitement from his voice. "We have to go there. Immediately."

Negin did not reply, but she followed a few paces behind Arran as he hurried toward the treasure ahead.

While Arran had no idea how he’d use another shard of Living Shadow, his heart was filled with excitement as he made his way toward the treasure. If a Living Shadow weapon lay ahead, someone truly powerful would have died there — and they would have carried more than just a weapon.

He hurried across the rough terrain, clambering through two deep gorges and past a misshapen hill as he approached the treasure.

But then, as he finally laid eyes on the area where he expected to find the treasure, his heart nearly stopped.

The treasure was there, just as his sword had Sensed. Yet it did not lie buried beneath the rubble. Rather, it hung at the belt of a woman who was still very much alive. And she was looking straight at him.

As Arran stared at the woman in the distance, Negin caught up with him. And when she saw the woman ahead, her reaction was wholly different from Arran’s.

"Kneel!" she hissed, falling to her knees next to Arran. "That’s a Knight!"

He hesitated, but only for an instant. Then, he fell to his knees at Negin’s side. And as he glanced up, he saw that the woman was approaching them.