Media: determination

Cadence remembered Kashimi Healing her. She heard the deafening cracks as the splintered ends adhered back into one piece, followed by the crippling pain of the bones resetting. Maybe she screamed, she didn't know. She wanted to crawl out of bed and check on Ales. He had fought ten well-trained and well-armed men, equipped with only a Celestium blade, a crossbow, and his Affinity. He had risked his life to save hers.

Is he alive? Did Kashimi save him?

Someone tried to hold her down. She fought with every inch of energy left in her body.

Ales, Ales!

Light exploded behind her eyelids, followed by a wave of drowsiness. How dare Kashimi put her to sleep. She needed to see if her mentor was still alive. If she lost Ales, she didn't know what she would do. She had already lost her father, now she was going to lose another father.

After Kashimi put her under, she slept. She slept like a child rolled in a warm blanket, unaware of the terrors waiting for her out there in the real world. She sank into her own cocoon of comfort, but that piece of faux safety was infested with monsters she couldn't see with the naked eye.

She saw Khazaria fall over and over again, her body smashing against the gargoyles, slid down the tiled roof, then hit the ground. She saw Ales' guts spill all over the floor from the deep slash in his abdomen, then he pitched forward, glassy eyes staring at her.

Your fault, your fault!

When she woke, the only thing that anchored her to reality was the soft, steady breathing of Ales lying on a bed next to her.

"Ales." She tried to get up from the bed but ended up sliding into a messy pile on the floor, bringing down her sheets with her. Her chest was wrapped with thick bandages. Cadence clutched Ales' bed frame and hauled herself to her knees.

Her mentor was lying as still as a corpse on the bed. The sheets were too white, it was blinding. The blanket was drawn up to his chest, his hands limp by his sides. His eyes were closed and his golden hair fanned around his head. He looked...human....vulnerable. It shocked Cadence, for the Ales she remembered was the warrior with a white wolf mask, a Varya who could fling himself into the air and shoot through the night sky like an eagle. He was strong, so strong, Cadence could never imagine him be anything but invincible.

He was so stiff, so quiet. If it wasn't for the gentle rise and fall of his chest, Cadence would have thought him dead.

"Ales?" she tried to speak, but her voice came out as a whisper. "Hey, Ales."

Her mentor stirred. Cadence cried with relief and joy as he opened his eyes and stared blearily at her.

"Hey, little mite," he said.

"How do you feel?" Cadence asked. She gripped his hand tightly, feeling the roughness of his skin from years and years of combat and training. His arm was heavily bandaged as well. Was he so badly injured Kashimi didn't dare risk speeding up his cells to heal the external wounds?

"I've seen better days," he croaked. "I was careless. I should have known the blasted Walker Hunters would turn up. It's a damn party hosted by the Khavarosks!"

In his aggression, he choked on his saliva and started coughing.

There was a pitcher next to Ales' bed stand. Cadence grabbed the handle and tipped it toward the metal cup. It was empty.

"Hold on, I'll get some water for you."

There was a water pump behind the curtain, she had used it for three whole days when she was recuperating from her Awakening. Whenever she ran out of water to drink and there were no Mujarabs around, she would pump her own.

It took a great deal of energy to even walk a step. Her steps were unsteady and her shoulder was still throbbing. Kashimi might have healed her ribs, but the phantom pain was still there, like an unfriendly hand squeezing her chest. She went under the curtain and set the jug down by the water pump, pushed the lever and watched a slow stream of water trickle into the jug. This might take a while.

She listened to the water drip into the jar. The curtains flapped and Ales entered another coughing fit.

Cadence heard the doors of the infirmary open, followed by light footsteps.

"Hello, Ales."

The voice made her seize up, choking her with an invisible hand.

Taras.

Cadence heard Ales' sharp intake of breath, then fumbled around for a weapon, but there was none. Weapons were not allowed in the infirmary. All their clothes, gear, and weapons were tucked away in a cabinet at the other end of the room.

She placed the jug down ever so gently and tried to keep her breathing even. Taras might hear her and come after her. The wounds on her body seared, as if sensing the presence of the person who had inflicted them.

Cadence peeked through the slit between the curtains.

Taras was standing next to Ales with the most disdainful look on his face. His hair was disheveled, his robes covered with dust—the look of a man who had rode non-stop from Mansion Khavarosk to the Hall of Games.

"How did you get in here?" Ales sat up, then winced.

"I have my ways, my contacts," Taras said. "Which most unfortunately, I lost around twenty today."

Ales snarled, flinging a hand at Taras' face. He tried to summon a cut of air but only managed a small breeze that barely mussed Taras' hair. He doubled over, crying out in pain.

"That tickles." Taras bent over Ales, scrutinizing him with his dark, malicious eyes. "Do you know how good it feels to see the Varya with the white wolf mask, lying helpless and exposed on a sick bed? I've waited so long for this day."

The Walker Hunter suddenly lurched forward, pinning Ales down onto the bed with his hands.

"You betrayed us, Ales," Taras ground out. "You had only one job, that is to deliver Walkers to Master. You've been hiding this one for weeks. I sent out our brothers to catch the girl, and you killed them all. You killed your own brothers in arms."

"I was never one of you." Ales hissed. He tried to break free, but Taras only pressed down harder. "You think I didn't realize what you and your filthy Hunters were doing? Yes, we made a deal, but what you are doing is more than wrong. I'd rather gamble my chances than to see Cadence hurt."

Deal? Was Ales working with the people who had tried to kill her? No, he wouldn't. There was no way he would collaborate with the scum who killed his family.

"Did we now?" Taras' eyes glittered. "If I recall correctly, you were supposed to bring all the Walkers in the Hall of Games to Master, but you hid this one from us. Master's terms were simple. You give them the Walker, they'll bring back your beautiful wife and daughter."

"You do not deserve to mention them!" Ales roared. "You murdered them! The only reason I threw myself into such a filthy grounds was because Master promised He could bring them back."

"Well then, what made you change your mind?"

"Cadence," Ales said. There was a spark of pride and affection in his voice. "Is like a daughter to me. What is dead, should stay dead."

Taras made a suckling sound. "That's so sweet it's disgusting. You should have realized that earlier, philosophical boy. Too bad you're a traitor. Twice you have betrayed me, and you know what we do to traitors."

Taras drew a dagger from his belt and slashed Ales across the throat. Ales thrashed and struggled, eyes wide and mouth gaping. Blood spurted from the wound in his neck and splattered all over Taras' robes. Cadence knew she should shout, do anything that would get the attention of the Mujarabs, but shock and fear rooted her to the spot.

No...this couldn't be real, this must be a nightmare, maybe if she closed her eyes and counted to three, she would wake up to find Taras gone and Ales still alive next to her. Her mind was just playing tricks on her.

She stared as Taras raised the dagger for the second time and plunged it deep into Ales' heart.

This isn't real. The Polong is messing with my mind. This is just another dream.

Ales' body jerked, then he went still.

Taras straightened up and patted his blood-sodden robes. He wiped his blade on Ales' shirt and slid it back into the sheath. He turned to leave and saw Cadence's sheet on the floor. His eyes went up to the dent in the mattress and the flattened pillow. He looked up, eyes scanning the infirmary. Cadence held her breath as the Hunter's eyes passed the curtains. He adjusted the collar of his coat and exited the infirmary, letting the doors fall silently back into place.

Ales.

Cadence clambered to Ales' bed, knocking over the pitcher of water. Ales was still alive, but barely. Blood continued to flow from the enormous gash in this throat and the stab wound in his heart. He saw Cadence and he tried to reach for her.

She screamed for the Mujarabs. Kashimi, anyone. This was just temporary, the Mujarabs were powerful, they could save Ales.

No Mujarabs appeared, no one walked in to save the day.

She tore through the curtains, but emptiness greeted her. Cadence ran down to Kashimi's office. The door was ajar but it was empty.

Where in the Underlands are the Mujarabs? Did Taras do something to them?

Frightened, she ran back to Ales' side. Her mentor was clinging to the very last strands of life. His breaths came in rapid, shallow spurts. His hands were trembling.

"Run," he gurgled. It was barely legible, there just was so much blood. "Run."

"Were you really working for Taras?" she whispered. "Did you try to kill me too?"

Was it all just a ploy to earn her trust and then hand her to the Walker Hunters like a ragdoll, just to bring back his wife and daughter? Cadence dropped to her knees and clasped Ales' bloody hand. Was it all he ever viewed her as—just a tool to be used?

A part of her felt betrayed, but the other part of her felt pity. All Ales wanted was to bring back his family. Wasn't that what she was planning to do too?

"I...gurgle...did not...betray...you." Ales' voice grew fainter. "Run."

Cadence watched the life fade from Ales' eyes.

No. NO.

Run. That was Ales' last plea. Run.

She flew to the cabinet holding their clothes and weapons. Ales' cloak, his utility belt, bandolier and her recruit robes were folded neatly on the top shelf. Her twin daggers were bundled up on her torn, red dress. Cadence put on her robes, Ales' utility belt and bandolier before sliding her daggers into both sides of the belt. She reached for Ales' cloak, feeling the dark, velvety fabric under her fingers as she pulled it free and tossed it around her shoulders.

The cloak was too large, and it trailed behind her, but there was no time to worry about clothing size. She threw the window open and climbed onto the sill. She was about to leap when she was a group of recruits laugh and enter the building.

Cole. She needed to tell him why she left the Hall, to tell him she was a Walker. She had hidden so much from him. If she died, he would never know the truth. Yet, if she approached him now, she would be killed.

Run. Ales' eyes were filled with desperation, begging her to flee.

I'll find a way to reach you, Cole, she promised. Until then, take care.

Cadence flung herself off the window. She soared through the air, watching her shadow rush up upon her. Cadence pushed and drew two strips of shadow, looping them around the turrets and swung her around.

The back of the Hall wasn't too far away. She pushed and pulled, wove in between the towers, feeling the wind run its jagged fingers through her cloak. Her cloak trailed behind her as she cut through the air at a terrifying speed.

The well was a speckle of darkness among the wild brambles. Cadence pushed, decreasing her momentum and she landed cat-like in front of the well.

The purple runes gleamed brightly as she neared. There was no external push deterring her from approaching it, or something that would change her mind so she wouldn't locate it. The legends were wrong. This well was not meant for the Murka to escape.

Cadence ran her fingers through Ales' belt pouches and found a flint.

Never let them catch you without light.

Although the evening light was still bright, it was not enough to extend all the way down into well. Cadence angled the shadows, willing it to assume the shape of a metal claw, just like the ones Arik used to secure their ropes when they first came here. She hitched her legs over the well, grasped the shadow and allowed herself to fall.

Halfway down the well, her shadow rope dissolved when the last of the light disappeared. Cadence struck the flint against the walls, dragging it down with her. Sparks flew.

A small light oftentimes cast big shadows. Cadence seized the shadows of the last sparks and cushioned her fall. The shadows dissipated upon landing, drenching her in darkness.

The way to the metal grills was direct. Cadence felt her way through the darkness by placing her hands on the walls. It felt like forever—the crumbling of the moss in her hands, the bits of stone that stuck out from the bricks that cut her palms—but she soon saw the breaking of light over the metal grills. She unbolted the grill and shoved against it with her good shoulder, lifting it and throwing it over her head.

The Hall of Games was now behind her, but the Great Wall loomed like a foreboding giant, casting the mightiest shadow upon the Region of Games. Cadence drew her cloak tighter around her and kept her eyes at her feet as she moved through the marketplace. She could reach the Wall if she shadowran, but it was risky.

The marketplace lacked the tall, twisted spires of the Hall, and was congested with people, since it was still Ishor. Cadence decided to use the business of the Region to her own benefit. She checked Ales' belt again. There was a small pouch of coins hanging next to Celestium slivers.

She brushed through the crowd, ducking to avoid being hit by dancers balancing the most ridiculous hats ever. Her eyes were on a forlorn old woman sitting on a stool far too small for her bottom. There was a make-shift stable next to her with a scrawl of a sign saying—HORSES, FOR SALE.

"How much for a horse?" Cadence approached the old woman.

The old woman rubbed her enormous nose and checked Cadence from head to toe with her tiny eyes.

"Yeh a Kesatria innit?" she said. "Them torn cloaks, them belts, just missin' the creepy masks. Y'all have yer own horses. Don't search for trouble by sneering on mine."

Cadence drew one of the Celestium slivers from her belt and dangled it in front of the woman's face.

"Do you want to sell or not?"

The old woman's eyes widened at the Celestium sliver. It was a small sliver, no bigger than a normal iron nail, but even a small amount would fetch a handsome sum at the right places.

"Yeh serious?" she said. "That's real Celestium, innit?"

"It's real."

The old woman swiped at the Celestium, but Cadence moved it out of her reach. "Horse first," she said. "I need the fastest one."

"Follow me." The woman stood up. She produced a set of rusty keys from her apron pocket and unlocked the door of the second stable.

"Tis' Athos," she said. "She was neglected as a child, but grew into one of the finest steeds I've ever seen. Fit for a Kesatria."

Athos was a beautiful horse with a glossy coat of pure black and mane as dark as the night. She had several white spots on her face which some nobles might scorn as a bastard of a horse, but to Cadence, the horse was a magnificent creature.

"She's saddled." The woman led Athos out of the stable and handed the reins to Cadence. "Now pay up."

Cadence dropped the Celestium into the woman's hands, then clumsily climbed up the horse's back, almost slipping off the stirrup on her first try.

"You don't know how to ride, do you?" The woman frowned. "Get someone to teach you before you break yeh neck, pretty gal."

Too late for that. Cadence tightened her grip on the reins. She squeezed the sides of the horse with her legs. Athos broke into a walk. Cadence leaned forward, praying to the Dewas to keep her from falling. She could either walk an entire day, exposed to every person in the town or reach the walls in an hour on horseback.

Cadence had seen how others rode horses—slight tugging on the reins for the horse to halt, a sideway pull to change directions and a kick in the flank to make it run. She held on tight, trying to ignore the queasy feeling in her stomach as Athos clopped down the lane. Passing through a town thronged with people celebrating the festivities was like trying to cross an ant-infested lane without squashing any of them. Feeling self-conscious, Cadence drew her hood and urged Athos into a trot.

As she advanced toward the Great Wall, the crowd grew thinner and thinner until it disappeared altogether, opening to a convolution of trees. The trees, unlike those in the other parts of the Region, were gnarly, knotted things. Their barks were a dark brown so rich, it looked almost blue. Its leaves were spindly where thick veins ran from the top to bottom. It looked distorted, evil even. Athos whinnied, shaking her mane.

"It's alright," Cadence said. "It's just trees."

Just trees, the Polong said. Trees can kill, you know? When the Founders went to war, Shura used dark magic to breathe life into the trees to fight Kazimir. When the war was over, the trees settled down here in this deformed state. Who knows when they'll rise up again?

"Shut up." She pushed the voice back into her head, but it took more effort than before. She grunted, head pounding.

Soon enough, the Great Wall emerged in her line of sight—a great white monumental structure that overshadowed the woods and everything within its vicinity.

Cadence gripped the reins tightly. What would she say to the guards? She was a recruit wearing the cloak of a Kesatria. The cloak alone would arouse a commensurable amount of suspicion. She could bundle it up, but her recruit robes would be exposed.

Athos drew closer and closer toward the thin line of people waiting in turn to leave the gates. There were several men at the doors; men in red cloaks and carrying crossbows. She spotted the dark vials slung across their bandolier, then her eyes fell on the tallest men of the group. Taras was checking the carriages and wagons as they passed, barking instructions at his men.

He knew. Cadence's insides froze. He knew I would flee the Hall, and he wants to catch me when I deliver myself to the gates.

She tugged Athos' reins to the left, guiding her off the road and back into the woods. Cadence stared at the Great Wall and its glimmering white stones built tightly upon one another.

An idea formed in her head. It was a crazy idea, an idea that would shock Ales to his core if he was still alive. Yes, it was madness, but it was her only way of escape.

Cadence slid off the saddle and stroked Athos' head. "Thank you for bringing me this far," she whispered. "Now go, you deserve freedom."

Athos whinnied and nuzzled her hand. Cadence pushed the horse's head away and slapped it in the rear. "Are you deaf? Go!"

The horse gave her one last look, neighed, and galloped back toward town.

Cadence unsheathed Bahtra and Samudra. She held one in each hand and summoned the shadows around her. The twisted trees cast the longest shadow as the sun crept toward the last horizon. She drew all her Energy from her Core and pulled the shadows into an enormous whirl beneath her.

Down. She forced the shadows into a tight ball, packing them so tightly the shadows rebelled against her, crying to be released.

This is insane, the Polong said. You're going to get us both killed.

Good, Cadence replied. Goodbye, Polong.

The amassed shadows trashed like trapped animals underneath her feet. Cadence drew more, blasting them into the ever-growing, ever-writhing mass of darkness. When she couldn't hold down the shadows anymore, she released everything, letting the roar of shadows propel her into the air, shooting her toward the Great Wall like a stone from a trebuchet.

If she cannot cross the wall, she would climb it.