Alek was thankful to have returned to her friends, in case she made a fool of herself in front of the woman who claimed to be kin. She broke the news to them quietly, repeating herself when she had stumbled over her words. She gained sorrowful looks and well-meaning yet hollow apologies.

She sighed as she sank against a pillar in what seemed to be a throne room of sorts. It contained the large chair, as would be expected, but none of the decor that was always shown in books and stories. It had been quite bleak in comparison, shades of beige and white from the bones that had decorated the room. Alek couldn’t be sure if they had been real or impressive fakes, but couldn’t get her hopes up. She was sure they had been genuine people once, not mass-produced in some Shalian factory to decorate homes for Saint’s Night.

Queen Valdis had summoned them upon Alek’s return from the cryptling chasm. Her guards came to fetch them and asked sternly for them to stay put until the Queen arrived. It had been almost an hour since then, and Alek was sick of waiting for one day. So had Raelyn, who paced the large room, kicking at the walls in order to not face the truth of her own family. If it had even been the truth. She had no choice but to take the words of a murderer over her own family. Artemis had been the source and had lived through the events after all.

They had yet to hear a word of Sir Barnaby; the wait getting worse on Finn by the minute. He scratched at his skin, picking and rubbing until his pale flesh was raw, red and bloody. He sat leaning against a pillar at the opposite side of the room, keeping to himself and refusing eye contact.

By the time Queen Valdis had arrived, the trio had been worn out and wallowing in their own thoughts. She arrived, not with the grace of a royal, but with the saunter of a famed warrior returning from a perilous quest. She reclined on her throne as if they already bored her with the meeting that she herself brought upon. She breathed out a long sigh, leaning her head against her upright fist, watching over the trio who slowly came together by her feet. Her flamelike eyes regarded each of them stopping on Alek who’s regular upright posture had been replaced with a defeated slouch.

“So, you’re my mother’s champion,” she spat out the word as if it were poison on her tongue, “you don’t look like much.”

“I’m not, really,” Alek shrugged with a nervous grin. She had yet to learn what that had entailed, but despised the sound of it. She only hoped that the Queen would take pity on her.

“Do you understand what that means?”

Alek shook her head, fighting the sudden need to avert her gaze. The young Queen pinched the bridge of her nose, scrunching her face in annoyance.

“You’re going to have to fight me to the death.”

“Well, I’m not going to. Artemis doesn’t control me.”

Valdis looked at her as if she was a helpless creature caught in a trap. “I’m afraid that you have no choice in the matter. You are fighting in my mother’s place, and even then to step down from the fight dishonours not only you, but me as well. She’s trying to throw me out again, I can’t afford to look weak.”

“Then what do you expect me to do?”

“Fight me.”

Alek hesitated, then nodded reluctantly. “As you wish. If I could ask a… off-topic question?”

“I suppose this is about your friend, the faun?”

“Yes.”

“I’ll have my guards take you to him. I can’t promise what shape he’s in, he’s Artemis’ prisoner, not one of mine.”

Finn had jumped at the chance to see Sir Barnaby again. He walked in front of the two women, keeping up with the footsteps of the two heavily armoured guards. Alek trailed far behind, the reality of her situation weighing her down, the likelihood that she would die again. It didn’t phase her as much as she thought it would, now that she had time to think about it. Perhaps she had been on borrowed time for the past few months, and this was ultimately the Gods taking what was rightfully theirs.

She dragged her feet, scrapping up the soles of borrowed shoes, leaving long marks in the rock dust. Her hand wandered to the ring that still sat against her hammering chest, warm and damp with sweat and grime. The only thing she had left of the woman she was sure she loved. She wasn’t sure how she felt any more. She had been gone so long with no contact. It must have been close to a year from when she left Stykes Academy till now.

Guards lead them into a large room that looked like it had once been a church, or something close to it. The walls stood half crumbled, torches hung from the remaining walls. The stone slabs that made up the floor were cracked and uneven, causing Alek to stumble as they wobbled under her feet. In the centre of the room stood a small marble pillar that may have been an altar, split in half, barely holding together.

Tied to the altar was the broken kneeling form of Sir Barnaby Daniels. Finn rushed over, sliding to his knees in front of the older man, struggling to untie the rope that held him captive.

“Finn, my boy,” he rasped, his chapped lips breaking and bleeding, “it’s good to see you.”

“Save your strength, old man, we need to get you out of here.”

“Not before we find that relic, I’ll survive until then.”

“You’re half dead,” deadpanned Alek, “do you really want to continue?”

“It’s my life’s work, Cooke, I can’t give up.”

Sir Barnaby’s search for the Darkblade would be the death of him, but Alek wouldn’t discourage him, much like she never discouraged him from using the wrong name for her. It was somewhat endearing, to an extent.

Finn untied the man’s wrists, steadily helping Sir Barnaby to his feet. The old man leant heavily on Finn, legs shaking under his own weight. A pained smile tugged on his face, presumably happy to be reunited with Finn.

As they led him from his holding area, slowly but surely, they recounted everything he had missed. From Alek and Finn being arrested to Alek meeting Val, who turned out to be Artemis Valcari; the ex princen of Mabristan, to their journey down to the Sanguine Peaks. Sir Barnaby seemed impressed, and excitedly asked questions in a husky tone, and lamenting how he missed out on such adventures. Alek filled him in on the current events, reluctantly how she’s allegedly a Valcari, and how she must fight in Artemis’ name.

Sir Barnaby hummed in response. “You have my condolences, but it may be in your best interest to fight.”

“It’s not like I can weasel my way out of this,” said Alek, “there are too many people here who know about me now. Bloodline or not, there’s no way out.”

Sir Barnaby weakly patted her on the back, unsure how to comfort the young marwaid over her impending death. Alek gave him a stiff nod. Feeding herself returning to her military habits she hadn’t needed to rely on in the many months she’s been stuck in Shales.

In a dilapidated stone room deep within the forgotten quarters, Artemis reclined in her chair, goblet in hand and gloating at the sight before her. Alek ran through the training exercises alongside Raelyn, who pushed her harder than she ever had before. Alek winced and hissed as she took another jab to the ribcage.

“Wake up, Alek,” panted Raelyn, swiping at her again only to be blocked, “you used to be faster than this. Now hit me.”

“I didn’t use to be on the bring of death,” huffed Alek in return, throwing a punch only for it to be caught in Raelyn’s hand and twisted roughly behind her back, pinning her.

“That only means you should try harder,” Raelyn shoved her away, “now, again.”

“Raelyn I’ll be fine-”

Raelyn shoved her, eyes blazing as they bore into her.

“I fucking love you, Alek,” Raelyn hissed. Alek looked at her in a strange array of hope and confusion. She opened her mouth to say something - anything - but Raelyn cut her off, “By Luka, I think I have for a while. But we both have people to go home to, and I’m not letting you die here.”

“I love you too,” she replied earnestly despite herself. Perhaps she always had. But it didn’t matter, couldn’t matter, not now or ever, “but maybe it’s for the best things worked out this way. For me to end up here.”

“No,” Raelyn’s serious expression broke briefly, revealing her worry before her walls snapped back up. “Don’t be like this, not now.”

“I’m a danger to society,” said Alek softly, ignoring Artemis’ watchful gaze. She may never get the chance to confess her fears again. “I’ve killed three people already. Maybe it’s best if I’m put down.”

“I’m not letting you,” snapped Raelyn, “now come on. Again.”

She got back in position, facing Alek sideways with her fists up. Alek rolled her shoulders, bones crunching and sweat pouring off of her face and dripping onto the stone floor. They grappled again, fists connecting with jaws, feet swiping legs, messy and coordinated. Their bodies moved with ease, familiarity in their violent waltz. Alek felt faster, lighter on her feet as she twirled out of blows with the grace of a dancer, striking back quickly and efficiently. Raelyn hit back just as rapidly, jabbing at Alek’s weak spots with memorised ease, pushing her back out of their makeshift arena.

The two broke apart, panting and damp with sweat, clothes clinging to their body like an extra layer of skin. Artemis rose slowly, clapping in a deliberate rhythm.

“Nicely done, Aleksilkandrin,” she grinned, “I knew I hadn’t made a mistake in choosing you.”

Alek gritted her teeth, chest rising and falling rapidly as she tried to regain her breath. “Why are you even doing this?”

“My daughter has taken my rightful place. I want it back.”

“To what end? What will that even achieve?”

“They made me for the throne, Aleksilkandrin. I was meant to be Queen, but that was ripped away from me.”

“You took that away from yourself,” argued Raelyn, “you commit treason against your own father and brother, don’t drag Alek into your mess.”

“I tried to stay out of your family drama, now keep your business out of mine.”

“Stop,” huffed Alek, “I’ll fight. But I won’t fight for you, Val. Gods, I’ll fight you myself if it means this is all over.”

Artemis blinked. “Fight me? You know who I am-?”

“I know you’re a coward if you won’t claim your so-called birthright yourself.”

“Of course you’re a fiery one,” said Artemis, seemingly both taken aback and proud, “you are of my blood after all. So, what, you’re my daughter’s champion now? Interesting.”

“If that’s what it takes,” Alek shrugged, the motion sluggish as she looked at her ancestor with tired eyes, “if you really want to be Queen, do it on your own, because I’m not going to be a pawn ever again.”