“If you want peace, you don’t talk to your friends. You talk to your enemies.”

  Desmond Tutu, Nobel Peace laureate and Archbishop of Cape Town

  Milly finished the last of her eggs, soaking up the runny yolk with the last remnants of sourdough. Seated at her side, Rocky’s palms were pressed against her stomach as he healed her remaining injuries.

  “I thought I told you to take it easy last night,” Rocky grumbled as his magic cascaded over her cuts and bruises. She sighed in relief as the healing drove away the ache. “What you did was not taking it easy.”

  “I didn’t expect it,” Bethany protested, embarrassed. “Elias was there, and I was full of anger, and I needed a way to blow off steam. Emily’s advice kept popping into my head and it just, sort of, well, happened.”

  “What?” Rocky asked, confused, until her meaning suddenly dawned on him. He awkwardly looked away as his magic flickered with his lapse concentration. “No, not… I meant what happened with Becka. Not… that.”

  Bethany stared extra hard at her plate, wishing she could go invisible, which just reminded her of the stolen notes and the fight they were headed for.

  As an awkward silence fell over them, a plate clinked down on the table across from her. Bethany lifted her head from her own breakfast, and into Becka’s eyes.

  The woman’s nose was still askew and there was a faint bruise on her cheek, though Zee’s healing had repaired most of the damage caused by Bethany’s blows. Bethany could see the tension in Becka’s muscles and the contained fire behind her eyes.

  “I’m… sorry,” Becka muttered before Bethany could get in the first word.

  Bethany’s blood boiled.

  “You’re sorry?” Bethany spat, not bothering to hide her hatred. “You’re sorry you tried to kill me?”

  Rocky’s hand moved from her stomach to her arm, urging caution.

  I know, Rocky. We need her, and we need Zee and Abigail. But I’m not going to just roll over for this woman either.

  “I was desperate,” Becka elaborated, her eyes fixed on her uneaten breakfast. “I wasn’t in my right mind. I would have done anything to get out of that bathroom.”

  “Oh, well, is that so?” Bethany said with a mocking laugh. “Well then, I guess that makes everything all right then, doesn’t it? We can be the best of friends now.”

  “Bethany…,” Rocky whispered in warning.

  “You don’t know what it was like…,” Becka started to explain, but Bethany interrupted her.

  “I escaped my old life, only to be thrown straight back into hell,” Bethany shouted, drawing the attention of everyone in the room. She didn’t care. “And when I needed help, you held me down against a concrete floor and forced wine down my throat. You poisoned my new life – my chance to finally be happy.”

  Bethany thrust herself up from the table, swiping away Rocky’s arm. “You’re sorry,” she repeated, her words filled with venom. “I’m sorry I ever met you.”

  Bethany stalked out of the lunchroom, slamming the door behind her. Marching out the front entrance, she leaned against the wall beside the burned-out husk of their truck. She could still smell the smoke in the air – a reminder of last night’s attack.

  “Aaaaah!” Bethany screamed in frustration. She kicked the truck’s charred tire as hard as she could. The force of her blow ripped the tire off the truck’s frame and sent it flying fifty feet down the driveway.

  “You’ve gotten stronger,” came a voice from behind.

  Abigail walked up beside Bethany and watched the tire crash down and roll until it struck the chain link fence and fell over.

  “Much stronger,” Abigail affirmed.

  “Not strong enough,” Bethany murmured.

  Not even close. The Weapon of Eternity isn’t going to survive by kicking a tire down the road.

  This book was originally published on Royal Road. Check it out there for the real experience.

  “None of us are strong enough,” Abigail agreed. “We’ve seen things out there that makes the blood run cold. We watched a family of four get torn apart by massive geese along the southern shore of Wascana Lake. A man being skinned alive by tiny pixies with razor sharp teeth. A woman who tried to scale the perimeter wall to escape, only for the stones themselves to hold her tight while demonic falcons fed on her. I could hear her screams from the hotel we’d crashed in as they ripped her apart, piece by piece.”

  “I saw a woman in a wheelchair who killed herself rather than burden her family,” Bethany added sadly. “It didn’t matter. Her family was already dead.”

  Abigail rolled up her right pant leg, showing off a scar on her ankle. “A pack of rapid dogs made from plastic.”

  Bethany lifted her shirt to her belly button, revealing her nearly-healed cuts and bruises. “A pack of shadow wolves. And a man who sold his soul to the shadows to stay alive.”

  “Damn,” chuckled Abigail, impressed. “I like your hammer.”

  “I like your… um, blood sword. Does it hurt?”

  “Every time,” Abigail admitted, clutching her palm. “But sometimes we do things we don’t like to survive, don’t we.”

  Bethany grew silent.

  “My husband died in the Arena of Ares,” Abigail said without emotion. “It was Rocky’s plan to defend against those Spartans by building a base. It was that plan that resulted in my husband’s death. I could resent Rocky for that. I could spend the rest of my short life clinging to that grudge, out of a false sense of loyalty to my husband. But I don’t. He was just another casualty of war.”

  “It’s not the same thing,” Bethany murmured, though Abigail’s words poured water over her hot anger.

  “Nothing is the same. This place is hell, and hell plays by different rules.” Abigail placed a supportive hand on Bethany’s shoulder. “You don’t need to like her. Lord knows I don’t. But she is, undeniably, a strong ally. And right now, we need all the strength we can get.”

  Abigail tapped Bethany’s shoulder once and returned to the lunchroom, the exterior doors clicking shut behind her.

  Bethany was silent until the first light of dawn broke through night’s darkness. The great wall rose imposingly over them, and flocks of great winged beasts soared over the downtown. A howl of some unseen enemy carried on the wind, quickly answered by two more in the distance.

  I’ve been betrayed by whole life. My father. My grandmother. Everyone who was supposed to protect me ended up hurting me. And I survived their betrayal. How is this one any different?

  Jitters drifted down from the roof of the building and landed atop the remains of Rocky’s truck. Bethany reached over and scratched the joint where wing met eyeball, and Jitters leaned into her touch.

  “Hell plays by different rules,” Bethany sighed, steeling her resolve. “I guess it does.”

  Before she could change her mind, she marched back into the lunchroom. Becka was still seated at the corner table, her breakfast half-finished. She absentmindedly moved her remaining egg across her plate, her face twisted with worry.

  Bethany sat down across from her and stared her in the eyes.

  “I don’t forgive you,” Bethany spoke, fingernails digging into her palms to keep her anger at bay. “You don’t deserve to be gifted such kindness. But I will give you the chance to earn it.”

  Becka perked up, as if Bethany had just thrown her a lifeline.

  “Thank you, Bethany. I…” Becka started, but Bethany left the table before she had a chance to finish.

  Becka watched her leave, and then polished off the rest of her breakfast, humming a haunting little tune.

  *                    *                     *

  Twelve players gathered outside the office, their backpacks laden with supplies. A tense silence had fallen over the group.

  Elias grasped Brandon and Harmony’s hands, Harmony’s paper birds soaring around her head. Brandon tried to snatch one out of the air, but Harmony slapped his hand away. They quietly laughed, and Harmony send a purple one to land on his head.

  Priyanka, her displeasure evident, struggled to corral the hyper Jaya so she wouldn’t run off. Her granddaughter, who now had the body and memories of a five-year-old, had aged another year overnight, as if being prepared for what was to come. Jaya bumped into her mother’s legs, who gazed down at the strange creature. The child burst into a grin and shouted ‘Maa’, lifting her arms high. Anjali ignored her daughter and resumed staring at the road beyond the fence, and her daughter’s smile faded away.

  Zee paced anxiously back and forth as he juggled his daggers into the air, until an irritated Abigail swatted one out of the air and sent it hurling across the courtyard.

  Becka’s rested her hand on the hilt of her black blade, her eyes darting towards the shadows beneath the endless pipes that ran throughout the refinery. The morning sun made a shadow shift, and Becka flinched.

  A sharp click echoed across the yard as Rocky locked the doors of the refinery. This was the first time since they’d arrived at their new home that it would lay empty, their scavenged treasures left unguarded.

  “We don’t know what we’re walking into,” Rocky announced as he joined Bethany and Emily at the head of the group. “All we know is it’ll be dangerous, and we won’t be alone.”

  “We know we can do this,” jumped in Emily. “We’ve fought beside each other before and emerged the victors. We survived the Arena of Ares. We solved Omoikane’s Maze. We’ve fought monster after monster, and each time we’ve returned home, more powerful than ever and ready to fight again.”

  Bethany gazed across the courtyard, where dozens of winged eyes were perched, broadcasting their exodus to their godly audience.

  How many gods are watching us? Do they lick their lips at the thought of the energy that’ll be collected from the battle for the Key of Fire? Oracle’s right. This horror needs to end.

  “This is just another arena,” Bethany bellowed. “Just another battle in the war. A war we intend to win.”

  With that, Rocky opened the refinery gate – the creaking metal a call to battle – and the twelve players marched out of the refinery.

  Into the war.