When Nyu and Elara finally reached the main atrium, Malvorn was standing in front of a large statue with his hands crossed behind his broad back. He was studying a small bronze plaque with superficial interest and kept glancing up at the marble Elder as if looking for a challenge. His golden fists were glistening in the light of flickering torches that some of the surrounding guards held up at his request, and his open hair flowed down his neck like the mane of a horse. He was not clad in a blue robe like the other soldiers, but instead wore his golden armor openly atop a dark sleeveless tunic, exposing his muscle-packed arms. Dark veins bulged under his pale skin, weaving their way all the way down to where his fists disappeared inside his armored gloves.

The soldiers around Malvorn stood at a respectful distance, watching their leader as he examined this unscathed display of Fateweaver culture. It wouldn't have surprised Nyu if he'd smashed the statue with his reinforced fists the very next moment. But he appeared calm despite the raging battle in the buildings around him, blending out the many screams that resonated in the atrium like they would in one of Morathen's many caves.

Making their way down here had been anything but easy. There was no clear frontline to follow — instead, every single hallway was its own battlefield, with attackers and defenders fighting for every inch of control. They had helped push back the enemy on several occasions, but also took detours where the fight seemed hopeless. What they'd seen along the way would be enough to traumatize even a sane person for decades, and Nyu didn't consider herself sane to begin with.

Now, they were standing underneath an archway at the edge of the large atrium, which she'd been told was usually full of students enjoying the warm sun on a cozy afternoon. But tonight, it was crowded with Malvorn's goons and those he deemed worthy to be in his inner circle.

They had dispatched some of the guards on their way down here, and the staircase behind them was cluttered with their sorry remains. Between Nyu's quick daggers and Elara's relentless poles, there was little they could do to survive their combined strength. Despite never having fought together, they harmonized well in battle. Covering each other's backs and blocking right when they were supposed to, they managed to make it this far without major injuries. Nyu had taken a blow to the elbow, and Elara added another cut to her growing collection, but those were just petty injuries compared to the ones they were inflicting on their enemies. It felt like they'd been doing this forever, and Nyu actually found enjoyment in their joined fury. The irony wasn't lost on her that, against all odds, a Fateweaver and a Fateless made for a pretty good team. Of course, she would've preferred different circumstances for this revolutionary discovery.

Unfortunately, Nyu could tell that the guards around Malvorn were tougher than the average soldiers they'd fought so far. These were Malvorn's finest, trained warriors with unwavering morale. They would not make their lives easy, or be easily intimidated — chances were, they feared their master a lot more than any harm Nyu and Elara could inflict on them. And there were plenty of them. Not to mention, they'd still have to fight Malvorn himself at the end of this, and he surely wouldn't go down easily either. Watching the raw muscles bulge around his neck and shoulders, Nyu could only imagine what his gold fists would do to her bones if they landed a clean blow.

They only had a moment to take in the scene before one of the guards between the pillars that held the surrounding roof noticed them.

"Intruders!" he shouted and pointed his sword at them.

Ironic, Nyu thought, since they had just invaded someone else's home.

In a chiming orchestra of metal, everyone in the atrium drew their weapon — except for Malvorn, who didn't even turn to look at them.

Nyu glanced at Elara. She could tell the other woman was fighting with exhaustion, but the expression on her face was one of cold determination. They wouldn't leave this atrium without putting Malvorn down for good — or die trying. They had a bad hand and were risking it all, hoping for the luck of the draw once they got close to the big man.

"Here it goes," Nyu whispered and flicked her blades to the side.

Elara widened her stance and framed her battered face with her poles, ready to break the bones of those who underestimated her.

The soldiers guarding the archway were the first to charge at them. Nyu could tell they were wearing better armor than the ones they'd fought so far, made from sturdy metal that flashed underneath their dark blue robes. Their helmets were all uniform, which was rare for anything made in Morathen, and they were armed with long swords and halberds.

They round them up like a street gang, seeking strength in numbers before attacking, which was unpleasantly smart of them, Nyu thought. As the forest of blades around them grew thicker, she instinctively pressed her back against Elara's. The warm touch felt comforting in these dire times, and she found strength in it.

The soldier who'd spotted them cracked a malicious smile.

"Sorry, girls, but play time is over."

Nyu grinned. She'd enjoy this one.

Still trying to understand what caused her amusement, the man was too slow to react when Nyu broke into their circle formation and punctured the soft spot underneath his right armpit with her one dagger. Blood gushed over her hand, and the man let out a pitiful scream as his sword arm went limp. His other arm started flailing, trying to push Nyu away with panicked movements, but his bare fingers did little to stop her other dagger from disappearing in his exposed neck. As he dropped to the ground, Nyu stepped backwards.

And with that, their little crowd erupted into a wild frenzy of whirling blades and poles, with Nyu and Elara in the heart of it all. They kept switching up positions, like they were dancing together, ducking underneath each other's blows as they found their mark. Sometimes, they would strike the same person within a split second of each other, other times they would leave them weakened for a few moments, only for their counterpart to finish them off. Their movements matched perfectly, their weapons becoming one, and the moaning and bleeding bodies piling up around them bore witness to that.

As the sharp end of a halberd whirred past Nyu's ear, she caught a glimpse of Malvorn. He was still studying the statue in front of him, unfazed by the commotion a few steps behind him. A handful of men and women in finer robes and armor were still standing around him, watching the melee but not joining it. The expression on their faces was one of curiosity, maybe even amusement. It dawned on Nyu that they were just waiting for the two of them to be exhausted, and for their moves to become sluggish and slow. But before that happened, they would long be done with the two remaining guards that stood scattered in the human shambles of their initial circle.

Both of them were women, equipped with a pair of shorter swords each. They glared at their counterparts with biting contempt, their eyes filled with the desire to avenge their comrades. To them, Nyu and Elara represented all that was evil in this world, dressed in the orange robes of their oppressors. They didn't know Nyu was Fateless, and they likely wouldn't have cared at this point. Consumed by the lust for revenge, their sole focus appeared to be on granting them a painful death. But what they thought mattered little to Nyu — after all, their minds would cease functioning in a matter of seconds anyway.

As the two Fateless soldiers lunged at them, Nyu and Elara spread apart like opening scissors, making room in between them for their opponents to stumble into. Caught off guard by the swift movement, the attackers were forced to turn their backs to each other. Taking advantage of their temporary confusion, Nyu and Elara started attacking their opponents from both sides, forcing their elbows to ram into each other as they tried to parry their coordinated strikes. The woman Nyu was fighting groaned in pain while crossing her blades right in front of her face. With no more space to divert the power of Nyu's dagger, she could hear the soldier's left wrist crack awkwardly just before her hand snapped to the side, allowing her blade to slice into her now exposed chest, cutting through the straps that held her armor and into her flesh. The woman winced in pain, letting her guard drop with a pitiful moan. Her counterpart felt the loss of pressure in her back and glanced over her shoulder just long enough for Elara's poles to smash into the back of her helmet. Her eyes started spinning as she stumbled backward, falling onto her wailing comrade. Together, they dropped to the floor as a pile of black and blue.

Elara triumphantly looked down at them, then glanced at Nyu. Their eyes interlocked for only a moment, and Nyu could see the hint of a smile tugging at Elara's cracking lips.

By now, the group of men and women around Malvorn had stopped gloating and were forming a ring around their leader with weapons drawn. Their equipment was flawless, their body language strong and confident. These were no ordinary soldiers, but Malvorn's military officers, Nyu realized. Their blades were sharp, their armor thick, and their urge to wreak havoc was what had gotten them their status in the first place.

Nyu and Elara stepped over twitching bodies and scattered weapons to leave the cover of the archway. As the dark night sky appeared above them, a cold gust brushed against their sweaty faces, carrying the scent of blood, sulfur, and salt.

Finally, when they approached the circle of personal guards that had formed around Malvorn and the statue pedestal, the Fateless leader could be bothered to turn around. His dark eyes examined the pile of fallen soldiers in the distance, then took in the two orange robes and their wearers. He only briefly glanced at Elara, but when his gaze fell on Nyu's shaggy orange hair, his expression hardened.

"You," he snarled, and his voice echoed through the surrounding archways.

Nyu blew back a strand of hair that was dangling over her left eyebrow and defiantly raised her chin. She held Malvorn's stare, even when his blazing gaze seemed to burn through her skull like a drop of molten iron.

Then, suddenly, his lips split and exposed a row of sharp teeth that formed an ugly grin. His black and silver hair whirled through the air when he started to laugh like a maniac, shaking his entire muscular body.

Nyu felt scowled. She could've gone without ever seeing the man again, but she always knew it would happen eventually. Now, she'd come to put him down for good — an opportunity she'd long since been waiting for. And yet, now that the moment was finally upon her, she couldn't help but feel a certain unease spread through her body. Over the years, she'd come to know Malvorn well, but only the side of him he was willing to show. She'd never seen him in armor, for starters, and the sight of it was not a comforting one. He looked like he was finally in his element, like all the shiny silk gowns he'd worn back in his palace had simply been costumes he put on to appear stately.

She was used to knowing her opponent before entering a fight — or at least being sure she was superior in battle. This time, for the first time, she felt unprepared. And worse yet, she felt like Malvorn could sense it.

Just when his guards were taking the first step towards the newcomers, Malvorn finally stopped laughing.

"Stand down," he ordered them, with tears of amusement still forming in the corners of his eyes.

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A few of the officers looked surprised, but didn't dare to voice their bewilderment openly. They were fierce and brave — as long as they didn't have to go up against their own leader.

"This one is an old friend," Malvorn continued with a honeyed voice. "Even if you might not be able to tell."

He gestured at her orange robes with a bittersweet smile on his lips.

"I knew you never believed in our cause, but I didn't think you would go so far as to join our enemy." He shook his head. "You truly have lost your way, child."

"Stop the waffling and bring it on already," Nyu growled.

She was glad to see a hint of annoyance cross Malvorn's face. But when he spoke, his voice was surprisingly calm.

"In due time," he said after studying her for a moment.

Then, he turned his attention to Elara.

"I see you brought a friend."

There was an uncomfortable gleam in his eyes, like a predator taking a first look at its lunch.

Nyu bit her lip. She hadn't wanted Elara to join her on what would most likely end up being a one-way trip, yet here she was, precious like a diamond. Nyu could feel her emotions cloud her judgment as she watched Malvorn's eyes run down Elara's orange robes. She wanted to leap at him, cut the smile out of his smug face, do anything to keep him from causing the other woman harm. But she knew it was too soon — it was like they were performing a play with set parts, and the main act had yet to start.

"We share a common interest," Nyu said slowly, trying to keep her voice neutral.

"Oh yeah?" Malvorn asked with false interest. "And what interest would that be?"

"To stop you from setting the world on fire."

Malvorn smirked, then chuckled.

"How sweet," he sneered and inclined his head. "But I have to admit I'm surprised to hear you say that. Was it not the Fateweavers who forced us into hiding? Into a prison of darkness, where we should rot until the skin spreads from our crumbling bones?" He extended his arms, and his voice gained in volume, reverberating through the atrium.

"Was it not the Fateweavers who sought to destroy our people for generations? And are still trying to do so even to this day? Are you so blind in the face of history to assume their side?"

Malvorn took a step forward. Tight pale skin stretched over his prominent cheekbones like a linen sail, and thick veins started to trace his neck and throat. His temper was shifting, slowly but surely, like it always did when he talked himself into a rage.

She could sense Elara's body stiffening, and the heat of her unsaid words started radiating like a furnace.

"I didn't say they are perfect," Nyu hissed between gritted teeth. "I didn't even say I'm on their side — I'm simply not on yours anymore."

Malvorn's expression darkened, and his gravely voice rumbled through the rich night air.

"Oh, but were you ever?"

The level of introspection surprised Nyu. He wasn't wrong — at best, she'd been indifferent to his cause, and even that only in the very beginning. But she'd never been convinced that his plans were anything other than ludicrous. Had it not been for the money, she would've turned her back on Malvorn long ago, way before he sent her to the Great Library to set this whole ordeal in motion.

Nyu scowled as the memories of what she'd done in the name of Malvorn's conquest loomed over her mental horizon. She could feel a sting in her side, but not one caused by any physical ailment. Deep down, somewhere in that thing people called a soul, she felt responsible for Malvorn's success, and it was gnawing on her. Once again, she missed the careless version of herself that she seemingly had left behind — regrettably so, she thought.

"Talk all you want," Nyu finally said, when Malvorn's stare became unbearable, "but we both know how this little get-together ends. One of us will not live to see the sun rise. Let's not waste more time than we already have."

Malvorn's guards twitched, and Nyu could hear the grinding noise of blades being unsheathed. But again, Malvorn signaled them not to interfere with a quick motion of his palm.

"I'm just trying to be civilized," he rasped. "But I can tell my good manners are lost on you."

He rolled his shoulders one after the other, and his joints popped like snapping twigs.

"If it's a fight you want, I shall grant you the privilege."

"Do not fight him alone," Elara hissed next to Nyu and firmly grabbed her arm. "I've seen him in battle. He's dangerous, trust me."

She tried to keep her voice down, but the smile on Malvorn's face told Nyu he'd heard every word of it.

"Oh, by all means," he purred, fainting a courteous bow. "Have your friend join us. I'm sure that will make it all the more interesting."

An ugly grin split his lips as he spread his armored hands in an inviting gesture.

Nyu glanced at Elara. One of the wounds on her forehead had opened up again and was leaking blood onto her porcelain skin.

"Stay out of this," Nyu whispered sharply. She didn't mean to hurt Elara's feelings, but if that's what it took to keep her safe, she'd do it.

"I think it's a little too late for that," Elara hissed back, not taking her eyes off of Malvorn.

Nyu curled her lips and muttered a quiet curse. She was right. Their only chance of survival was to take out Malvorn — if Nyu took him on alone and failed, Elara would most likely follow her to the grave soon after anyway. Their best option was to stack their advantage, and that meant fighting him together.

"Excellent!" Malvorn exclaimed and made his guards step aside with a flick of his golden hand.

They did as he asked and formed a wide corridor between the two of them and the leader of the Fateless, who still looked like he was getting ready for a friendly spar. He didn't assume any particular stance, but instead simply joined his fists in front of his body and lowered his head. Through the curtain of silver and black hair, he was watching them with casual interest.

"Don't do anything fancy," Nyu growled in Elara's direction.

The other woman scoffed. "I don't think it's me you have to worry about on that front."

Nyu frowned. "Just … don't die."

She glanced over at Elara, and their eyes met for only a brief moment. A layer of grime had formed on Elara's face, giving her a feral appearance. Still, Nyu could see the concern underneath her mask of battle wounds. She was a skilled fighter, maybe even on Nyu's level, and she'd do her very best. But would it be enough? Would both of them be enough?

Elara nodded stiffly, and Nyu turned her attention back to Malvorn.

"I go left, you go right," Nyu whispered through gritted teeth.

She took a deep breath, tightened the grip around her daggers, and dug the tips of her shoes into the soft dirt underneath them. When her mind was sharp and focused like an arrow, she lunged forward, flying through the courtyard like a bat in the night. She almost brushed the guards on her left, too fast for even their facial features to catch up, then caught a glimpse of Elara as she made her way along the right side of the human corridor. Like the claws of a crab, they came at Malvorn from both sides, and still he made no move to prepare himself for their attack. His body remained still, just like the statue that towered above him.

Nyu extended her arms to the side and let her blades slice through the air. She would aim for Malvorn's legs, trying to hinder his movement right from the get-go. Her plan was to go in and out quickly, only ever place precise stings, like a hornet taking down a large animal. The rest of the time, she would try to keep her distance, trying to avoid the fatal blows of his armored fists. Malvorn was a large man, but his strength would also be his weakness when confronted with speed and agility.

Or so she thought.

When her daggers were only a foot away from their mark, with Elara following her lead on the opposite side, Malvorn finally moved. What should have been a sluggish attempt at evasion, way too late and clumsy at best, turned out to be a swift sidestep at breathtaking speed. With one smooth motion, he pulled his massive body backwards, while at the same time raising his golden fists. Nyu's daggers cut through nothing but air, and she watched in slow-motion as Malvorn blocked both of Elara's poles with a casual swipe of his armored gloves, sending the tremoring sticks backwards and one of them flying.

As Nyu hung mid-air and tried to wrap her head around what she was seeing, Malvorn was already onto her. His head swung around, and she could see his dark eyes beam with evil excitement. Before she could even stop her own momentum, his right hand lashed out and flattened her chest, pressing all the air out of her lungs and sending her stumbling backwards.

Nyu wheezed in pain, grabbing her chest with both hands and almost cutting herself with her own weapons. As she tried to regain her footing, she saw Elara swing her remaining pole around to land a frontal blow on Malvorn's chest, but he grabbed her arm like a thin twig, the links of his armored fingers wrapping around her orange sleeve like golden snakes. Elara tried to break free of his tight grip, but her struggle was in vain. All the while, Malvorn stared at her with malicious eyes, soaking in her pain and growing panic.

Rushing to Elara's aid, Nyu raised her daggers and tried to come at Malvorn from his blind spot, but again, the tall man was quick to react. He extended his other hand and wrapped his cold fingers around her throat before she could do anything to stop them. He didn't even bother to look over. She could feel her feet slowly lift off the ground, and her vision soon got blurry. Instinctively, she dropped her daggers and reached for her throat, her fingernails desperately trying to penetrate Malvorn's thick armor or move his massive palms. When any attempt at that seemed futile, her trembling fingers went looking for exposed skin, and they found it around his elbows. But when she dug her claws deep into his flesh, Malvorn didn't even seem to notice. The gurgling sounds escaping her esophagus mixed with the clinking of Elara's remaining pole as it fell to the ground, when her bloodless fingers had failed to hold on to it any longer.

There they were, in the middle of their hopeless struggle to fight a beast of a man, frozen in motion like yet another statue displaying heroic feats. Only this was as clear a loss as it could have been, soon to be a mere afterthought in the history of this battle. Malvorn had toyed with them, not even breaking a sweat, while rendering both of them unable to fight. And as his cruel laughter joined their wincing and wheezing, Nyu could feel the end was nearing. They were at Malvorn's mercy now — if such a thing even existed.

He could have just crushed her windpipe with a gentle squeeze, broken Elara's arm with the flick of his wrist — but instead, he tossed both of them to the muddy ground, where they landed with squelching thuds.

Moaning in pain, they glanced at each other, their eyes sharing regret and desperation. Nyu's throat was throbbing as she struggled to breathe, filling her lungs with air that seemed to send raging pain through her entire body. Elara clutched her limp arm against her chest, cradling it like an infant. Her skin was even paler than usual, despite all the dried blood and dirt covering her face and hands. The sleeve of her robe had been shredded by Malvorn's gloves, and the tears and holes exposed crimson cuts and scratches along her forearm that slowly drenched the surrounding fabric in the darkest red.

All the while, Malvorn's bellowing laughter echoed through the atrium, and the surrounding officers smirked with relish.

"Pathetic," Malvorn spat at them.

His features were dark against the night sky as he towered above them.

Nyu could only see him as a blurry mass of flesh and hatred, like an evil spirit of old.

"I would've killed you myself right there and then, if only to save yourself the trouble of pretending you have any chance of winning this battle," he continued, and his voice was ripe with contempt, "but, alas, I made a promise."

He extended his glistening hands above them, like two suns wandering across the horizon.

"You see, contrary to what you might believe, I'm a man of honor."

He lifted his chin to the point where they could barely see his beaming eyes.

"And so you may live for a moment longer, for there is someone who's been eager to speak with you."

Following an inaudible command, Nyu and Elara were rudely picked up by two of the guards and forced to stand up straight, with sharp blades a hair's width away from their throats.

An evil grin split Malvorn's lips as he gestured at someone in the far corner of the atrium. By the looks of it, it was a woman, probably about their age. She was casually leaning against a pillar of the archway, playing with her slender fingers while glancing over underneath the cover of a dark blue hood. Like an annoyed teenager, she pushed herself away from the pillar and started walking over, her stride one of indifference and pride.

When she came into the light cone of the spitting torches, she smoothly tossed back her hood, exposing shoulder-length orange hair and sharp, angry features.

Even through the haze that still clouded her vision, Nyu knew immediately who she was looking at — and the knot in her stomach almost made her gag.

"Oh, how I love family reunions," Malvorn sneered.

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