After a star-lit dinner on a Wishta Mountain bluff, Raul sat at the leader’s fire with Edico, tossing sticks into the flames and watching them pop. His mind was hazy with the events from the last day, and they weighed on him heavily. Emma almost died, and he couldn’t do shit about it. Sara almost died, and he couldn’t do shit about it. Brandon died, and he couldn’t do shit about it. Now, Sara was facing a trial, and he could do something about it, but he didn’t know what he wanted to do.

Sara’s plan was almost perfect. If Brandon hadn’t confessed to Aelia and told her about the God Slayer sword, Sara would’ve been in the clear. No one knew it was there, and now it was all buried under a collapsed mountain. Sara did procure a few weapons in the cavern (Aelia found Telskal’s spatial ring on Brandon’s corpse and verified it), and Sara could claim that she found the spatial ring that killed Brandon with the weapons. If there were an investigation into the array outside the miner’s shaft, Sara could remind them that someone tipped off the location a year ago, an obvious sign of a setup. There would be no evidence to suspect her of foul play.

But Brandon did confess—to Aelia of all people. Now, King Escar would soon learn that Sara went after the God Slayer—and he would want to know where it was. The weapon was apparently a major deal, and with Escar’s open paranoia towards the heroes growing daily, he was certain it would lead to a confrontation.

Now, Raul had to figure out what he would do. Would he stand back as Sara got put on trial? Or would he support her despite her overtly criminal behavior? His heart told him to do the latter, but common sense and basic ethics disagreed.

“Hey.”

Speak of the devil, Raul thought. He turned and saw Sara standing behind him, her blond hair glimmering red in the moonlight. “… Hey.”

“Can I sit down?” she asked.

“Of course.”

“I’ll check in on the other heroes,” Aelia said, standing. “But we’ll need to speak later, Lady Reece.”

“Of course,” Sara said.

“I’ll join you,” Edico said to Aelia. The two walked toward the others, leaving Raul and Sara in a state of awkward silence. For a while, they just sat there, listening to the heroes whispering. Each was a different shade of shaken, and all of them were talking about Sara, even if the topic was something else. It felt like there was a lens over everything, where every word was spoken within context, and the context was Sara Reece’s expedition and how it led to Brandon’s death and Mary’s incarceration.

“I’m sorry,” Sara said.

Raul’s eyes widened. “Sorry” was the last thing he expected to hear from her—on Earth or on Reemada. It wasn’t in her vocabulary.

“For what?” he asked.

“Making you face Brandon. He was running away; I didn’t think he’d return. That was a miscalculation on my part.”

Raul looked at her sternly. “Don’t apologize for that. It’s not your job to solve this world’s problems, let alone fix bad people.”

“That’s not how things work, Raul,” Sara said. “You can sign up to be a ‘hero’ or whatever you people call it. But at the end of the day, you’ll be haunted by your decisions.” She looked him in the eyes. “Killing people. Burning villages to the ground. Watching people die. That’s what being a ‘hero’ really means.”

Raul felt an icy serpent slither down his spine. Her words were chilling to a terrorizing degree.

“There are some people that can handle it,” Sara said. “Born narcissists. Sadists. Psychopaths. But the rest of us? We can say, ‘It was for the good of the people,’ all we want, but it won’t help the guilt or suffering. At the end of the day, the only thing you have to comfort you is hope and a bottle of cheap booze, and both of them run out eventually.”

Raul chuckled. “That’s depressing.”

“That’s reality.”

“I think I’m starting to get it now. The reason you won’t let us join you. It’s because this life sucks, and it only leads to misery.

Sara looked up and then returned to watching the flames dance in silence. “Yeah.”

“I’m not gonna lie—I’ve spent a lot of time thinking about you,” Raul sighed. “I’ve wondered if you’re just as bad as Jason and Mary. I’ve debated whether you’re actually evil or whether you’ll end up that way. Sometimes, I wonder how strong you are and how dangerous you are for this world. But I’m okay with you, regardless. And that makes me feel awful.”

Sara looked back up at him, flames flickering in her eyes. Then she got up and walked away. He thought that she was done with the conversation, and he smiled wryly. Well, that was a disaster, he thought. But to his surprise, she returned with a bottle of teemash, Reemada’s closest equivalent to whiskey. She cracked the bottle and took a swig, then she offered it to Raul. He smiled wryly and shook his head.

“Good. You’re not there yet.” Sara took another swig and shivered, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand. “Keep it that way.”

Raul smiled, looking at the ground. “You’re something.”

“Don’t glorify it. You’re not supposed to agree with anything I do.”

“I can agree with your goals, though, right?”

“I mean, you can, but it’d be a fraud.” The bottle returned to her lips, and she considered another drink. She decided in favor. “To be honest, it’s nothing so virtuous. Call it cynicism or something, but I don’t think that the world will be much better after Agronus is dead. I’m not sure because I woke up the second he died. But I don’t think it’ll make much of a difference.”

Raul reached for the bottle. She gave it to him. “Then why are you going through the trouble?”

“Contractual obligations, I guess,” Sara said, looking at the stars. “I just want to be free, and there’s no freedom in our position. So I’m just getting it over with, I suppose.”

Raul put the bottle to his lips but decided against it. There wasn’t any darkness to meet halfway. For the first time, he felt like she was a career professional who just so happened to specialize in murder. He passed her back the bottle.

“I’m not sure how I feel about that response,” Sara said, looking at the bottle. Then she put it between her crossed legs, both hands wrapped around it. They sat in silence for a while until she sighed. “You don’t want the story?”

“About what was in that cave?”

“Yeah.”

“Of course I do. Who doesn’t? But at the end of the day, it’s none of my business. If I’m not willing to throw myself in this… whatever this clusterfuck is… I don’t deserve to know.”

Sara looked into the fire. “Good choice.”

“There is something I need to know, though.”

Sara looked into his eyes. “What?”

“Did you frame Mary?”

Sara opened the bottle and brought it to her lips. “Yeah.” She took a drink.

Raul was appalled by the nonchalance of her answer. But that told a story in it of itself. So he came out and asked the logical question with the same ease: “Was it the right thing to do?”

She took a drink and shivered. “Yeah.”

“Good enough.”

Sara stood up like a salesperson, leaving before he could change his mind. But before she left, she offered him the bottle.

Raul waved his hand. “I’m good.”

“Trust me, you’ll need it.” Her voice was dead serious. He accepted it. “Good night, Raul.”

With those words, Sara disappeared into the night, leaving him with his thoughts. Neither her harrowing warnings nor blatant confessions eased his mental space. That said, he now felt empathy for Sara, understanding the mental prison she lived in. If Raul always felt as conflicted as he did at that moment, he would’ve been far worse with people than she was.This tale has been pilfered from Royal Road. If found on Amazon, kindly file a report.

Raul looked at the bottle, deciding whether to drink. This time, he accepted.

The ride back to Lemora felt exponentially longer yet infinitely shorter. The hours passed quickly, but the emotional processing made every second drag on into oblivion. No one was groaning about chafing anymore, but they didn’t want to talk regardless. Too much had happened; life had gotten too real.

Sara was grateful for the silence. Even though they were approaching twenty, they were all still naive children, freed from the shackles of adult responsibilities to play hero—and that got on her nerves. This life wasn’t a game—it was work—and it was meant to be spent quietly, keeping focus on one’s surroundings. Talking didn’t start until the bottle got passed around the fire—and even then, it wasn’t to complain. This was a hard life, and now they were living the truth about it. Someone died, Sara almost got killed, Mary ended up in shackles, and this was the norm that they would have to learn to accept. Now that everyone was, Sara could live life the way that was most natural to her.

During the nights, Emma healed her, and in return, Sara eased her anxieties. Raul drank with her in silence around the fire, and then she went off alone.

Twice, Edico and Aelia asked her what happened. Sara told them “the truth,” which was that Mary pushed her into the cavern. Sara broke her fall with wind magic and looked for an exit. She found one behind a massive basilisk that was lying on a pile of weapons and armor. They battled, and the basilisk shot an energy blast from its mouth, slamming into the cavern wall and causing it to collapse, killing it. Sara ran into the miner’s tunnel to escape, where she found the weapons she saved as well as the ring. Once she got out of the miner’s shaft, Brandon confronted her, demanding the “God Slayer” sword. She gave him the rings, and the rest was history.

Neither of them bought it.

Brandon had confessed everything like a fucking idiot, and now she was facing scrutiny. At least they didn’t lock her in chains. Either way, things would get ugly in the capital, and it was time for her to dethrone King Escar and earn her freedom. It would be risky, but with him out of the way, she could mount a true force to bring down Agronus, and she would be one step closer to securing the protection of her family.

When Sara got back to the capital, she enjoyed the grand banquet that King Escar welcomed them to. Telskal talked to her about the weapons she brought back, and she gave a report to King Escar about the events that transpired. Edico locked up Jason and Mary, pending a decision from King Escar, and then she was free to roam around. The heroes wanted to go drinking in Lemora; Sara wanted to drink alone. So she snatched a bottle of helshma from the banquet table and went back to her bedroom. Raul knocked on her door—she ignored him. Servants offered her tea—she declined. Tamon offered her Tilly and Reck—and she yanked open the door, allowing the two fluffy leetas to swarm her on her bed, sassing and reeahing that Sara left them for too long. Unfortunately, the reunion was short-lived. Things would get dicey, and she didn’t want the leetas in her room, so she sent them away.

Once her reception was finished, Sara lay in bed, hands laced behind her head, considering her situation. He’s going to act soon, she thought. Am I ready?

That was the constant question. Sara had prepared for almost a year for this day—and now she succeeded. Fishing into her pocket, she pulled out a silver ring that had a white spatial array light-etched into it. It was a plain band, but she stared at it like Gandalf looking at Sauron’s ring. There was so much power inside. With Qualth and her core, she could seize Lemora by force—that night if she wanted to. That was the power she held in her hands. Yet….

Sara clenched her fist around it, hiding it from her gaze. She had a code. Sara was a hypocrite to the furthest degree possible, but she had a code. Everything she did served a purpose that wasn’t oriented around wealth, prestige, or power. That was the difference between her, Jason, and Mary. If she went any further than what she was doing, by the time she reached the point that she could live her happy life—

—there would be nothing left.

I’ll just have to place trust in my plans, Sara thought, grimacing. With a strained heart and a fluttering stomach, she popped the clean ring into her mouth again. But she didn’t swallow it. Not yet. Once it hit her stomach, she couldn’t guarantee success. She wouldn’t be defenseless; she wouldn’t put herself into a position of absolute weakness. Yet she was risking her life. Be someone you can be proud of, Sara, she thought. Not for others, but for yourself.

Sara swallowed the ring.

King Escar sat on the throne of his audience chamber, staring at Aelia Twilix under the glow of mana crystals. It was late in the night, and he had spared no delay in summoning everyone to give their testimony. Now, it fell on Aelia, who was mediocre in her talents as a Sycount but was loyal to a suicidal degree, speaking candidly without restraint. And as expected, she recounted the story of what happened in great detail. She explained how Lady Jansen pushed Lady Reece into the cavern and how Lord Torres tried to trap her once she exited. She recounted Lord Torres’s confession about how he and Lady Reece were time travelers and how Lady Reece was going after Qualth, Rinus Kemot’s “God Slayer” sword and hid it. Lastly, she explained that the actual cavern was destroyed in a massive blast that caused the cavern to collapse—burying the evidence. It was a very different account than the one Edico gave to him—and he planned to lock the man up for withholding critical details. This was a matter of national security, and his general didn’t give him the facts.

“How large was the cavern?” King Escar asked.

“It was at least three hundred feet deep, and the mine shaft was over a mile away,” Aelia said.

“And you’re saying that a mile-long mountain collapsed after Lady Reece entered it?”

Aelia’s body stiffened. “That’s correct. There was also a massive crevasse that separated the area to the east.”

“Do you think that ‘Qualth’ has that type of power?” he asked.

Aelia swallowed. “It’s possible. According to historical accounts, it has arrays that attract mana from the environment to create powerful strikes. But….”

“But what?”

“The mountain was on a mana vein. So if the accounts are true, it would make sense why the attack was so big. It’s also possible that her claim that the basilisk—”

“Killed itself?” King Escar snorted. “Don’t waste my time. Where is the sword?”

“We didn’t find it on her. The ring Lord Torres stole from her leads to a hang nest. Mages burned the nest but found nothing inside.”

King Escar’s face twitched at the thought that they had burned a nest containing valuable artifacts. “And she didn’t mention the sword?”

“No,” Aelia said. “She said there was a nest of weapons, but they were covered when the cavern collapsed.”

“Convenient.”

Aelia nodded.

“What of Torres’s claims that she was from the future?”

Aelia hesitated, making him narrow his eyes. “I’m not sure how to interpret his claims. But I do believe that it’s likely that she’s from the future.”

“Why?”

“Lady Reece had a three-layer array below her belly button that connects to a mana crystal she had hidden on her belt buckle,” Aelia said. “I copied down the pattern and submitted it to Mournings. From what he said, it bears the signature of Telia Sayon.”

King Escar’s shoulders tensed, and he leaned back into his throne. Telia Sayon was the legendary mage who sealed Agronus in his castle three centuries ago. “You don’t think it’s a possibility that Lady Reece is her reincarnation, do you?” If the answer was yes, he wouldn’t act—he couldn’t act. He might as well concede his throne.

“I don’t,” Aelia said. “The array is clearly an imitation. It’s more likely that she acquired Sayon’s legacy in the future and returned with the knowledge. We’ve sent messengers to Elscalore to see whether the Sayon Crypt has been cleared, just to make sure. Either way, we can’t confirm.”

King Escar’s expression turned grave. It was customary for legendary mages like Telia Sayon and Halkon Tine to prepare crypts that challenged aspiring mages, opening their secrets and life work only to those who were worthy—and the Sayon Crypt was the most notorious. It was over the city of Tronlam, and thousands flocked there each year to see it. And, each year, hundreds of mages tried to pass the trials—

—and died. It had been that way for three hundred years. If Lady Reece had cleared the trials…. It just proved that Lady Reece was far stronger than they had imagined—even without Qualth or Telia Sayon’s magic.

King Escar gripped his armrests. He was frustrated that the only person with insights into Lady Reece was Lord Torres—and she killed him. No, not just him. All of her enemies—and dozens of nobles—had gone down in flames since she had arrived. She did not shy away from destroying her enemies, and if she wielded her strength, knowledge, and power against him….

“Do you think that Lady Reece would massacre us if we confronted her?” King Escar asked.

Aelia bit her lip and looked away. “I don’t.”

“Then ask her to turn herself into custody until we have finished our investigation. If she has nothing to hide, she’ll submit willingly.”

“And if she doesn’t?”

“Make sure that she leaves on friendly terms. I don’t care what you do. Just make it happen.”

“Yes, My Liege.” She stood to walk away but paused. “What if she does submit?”

“I want her in the strongest mana deprivation chains possible,” King Escar said. “We will act once she’s weakened.”

Aelia’s eyes widened. “You mean—“

“Yes, that’s exactly what I mean.” King Escar stood up. “Lady Reece is an existential threat. If we can act, we will. If we can’t act, we won’t make an enemy of her. Is that clear?”

Aelia swallowed hard, staring at him with wide eyes. That look made him sick. Lady Reece could take over the entire kingdom—alone—at any moment. Yet the woman couldn’t see the need to do what needed to be done.

“Understood,” Aelia bowed and left the room, leaving King Escar in miserable silence. On nights like these, he wished that his Royal Guards spoke to him—even impertinently if necessary. Tonight would determine the fate of the entire kingdom, and he couldn’t trust anyone. Even if Lady Reece didn’t have visions about his advisors, she knew about them. Intimate details. At any point in time, she could exploit them—and they would fall. The situation could blow up in his face at any moment.

And yet… if she were a time traveler, that meant that she didn’t actually know the future.

I dreamt that I was in a prison cell, shackled in mana deprivation handcuffs, Lady Reece had said. Care to explain that? It was so convincing at the time, but now he could see it:

She anticipated this, King Escar thought. Not because she could see the future, but because she planned this….

King Escar swallowed hard. He was convinced that his strategy to lock her up if she was willing or let her go on friendly terms was the best option. But it felt like neither would play out. Lady Reece had plans, and he didn’t know what to prepare for.

Sara awoke around midnight, bathed in the light of the red moon. She didn’t need to release a divination pulse to know that they brought an army for her. Hundreds of soldiers filed out into the courtyard underneath her window, and the clack of dozens of iron shoes clacked through the halls. He’s decisive, I’ll give him that, she chuckled wryly.

Sara released the God’s Eyes divination pulse, and the soldiers stopped. She wasn’t holding back anymore—and neither were they. The entire sycount squadron was in the halls, keeping at a distance that would allow fighting.

Fight or flight, Sara thought, throwing on her clothing. Or stay…. There were pitch-black spots in her Divine Eyes that showcased mana deprivation shackles. At one point in her life, they would’ve been a death sentence. Even though they weren’t an existential threat anymore, just seeing them wrenched her organs, and made it hard to breathe. Even though she understood and planned for what would happen, Sara still felt a strong desire to go on a bone-breaking rampage just to send King Escar a message—

—depending on how things played out, she still very well could.