They wound their way deeper into the city, weaving through throngs of merchants shouting over one another to hawk their goods. The architecture here was modest but charming — stone and timber constructions with sloping roofs and painted shutters. Essence lanterns were beginning to light up, casting a soft golden glow over the streets and making the city feel like a haven in the growing twilight.

  As they went through the second wall, the transition to the middle ring was subtle but palpable. The streets widened, and the buildings grew more ornate, if a little more functional. The crowd here was a little less dense, and occupations were more field-specific. Artisans like stonemasons, blacksmiths, goldsmiths, carpenters, tailors, and so much more, dominated the middle ring. The rowdiness and chaos of the first ring was non-existent here, though it was a bit noisy, the noise couldn’t be compared to the first ring.

  “This is nice,” Sheela said. Her tone was softer than the expression she was wearing. So Jerome took it that everyone was calming down. The last rays of the sun gleamed off polished glass. The clamor all around them was a lot more… ordered, cultured. Jerome could hear the occasional conversation and thrill of a lute. A pair of young musicians were playing a lively tune on the corner, their instruments —a fiddle, a tambourine, and a lute — added a playful rhythm to the evening.

  “What a stark difference from the first ring,” Nyx said.

  “A reminder of the social divide that the walls symbolize,” the dragonkin added.

  Jerome grabbed Ms. Tara’s hand and spun her into an impromptu dance to the tune of the lute, drawing amused smiles from passers-by. She yelped and protested but her protests soon dissolved into laughter as she twirled about.

  “We’re here to have a good time, hmm,” he said. “So let’s do just that.”

  They found a tavern nestled at the base of the second wall, its sign depicting a bear holding a frothing mug. The Bear’s Den was an inviting name as it suggests. The warmth of a roaring hearth enveloped them as they walked in, chasing away the cold of the fall, and the scent of roasted game and spiced cider filled the air. Wooden beams stretched across the ceiling, carved with intricate designs of vines and flowers.

  Jerome could see, though, that this was meant to hide some scripts whose offensive functions were to protect the owner and staff of the tavern. Everyone in the tavern turned to look at them and their voices quieted.

  “Beautiful and deadly,” Jerome said, scanning the crowd, even though his eyes never left the ceiling.

  “Deadly for a Sprout, you mean,” someone said from within the crowd, drawing everyone’s attention. “A normal Sprout. But you… are far from normal.”

  His gaze turned to face the direction of the voice. Sitting in a corner of the tavern was a lone figure covered from head to boots in black leather — a Nediti, he was sure. Slight in stature, so a woman.

  “You must be Milena. Layla’s mother.”

  She gulped down her mug of frothing beer and slammed the mug against the table. Her big black hood, which hid her face completely, didn’t so much as shake with her movement.

  “I am,” she said, still seated. “And I’m here to find out how much pain you can bear!” She vanished. Jerome sensed her behind him an instant later and put up a barrier. The scripts in the beams above lit up, readying for their altercation.

  Jerome turned to face her. Looking at her up close to get her measure, he could see she was slightly shorter than her daughter, slimmer too. Layla had, for the lack of a better word, ‘filled out’, since the gemming. “Let’s take this outside—”

  She attacked, punching the barrier and shattering it. Jerome held his ground but the resulting shockwave blasted everything away from them, destroying tables and chairs. Glass bottles on shelves behind the counter shattered, pouring out their contents. The air quickly filled with the strong scent of alcohol. Kegs of ale and beer shattered, the scent of their contents also joining the mix of scents in the air.

  Jerome wanted to match her blows but noticed a dagger in her hand.

  “Be careful, Xerae. That dagger is the same as Ivar’s. It was crafted using Authority.”

  The scripts above them fired at them but those were just glancing shots that bounced off their bodies. Someone cursed behind the counter. Another snorted. “A lot of good that did.”

  Jerome vanished, appearing a few hundred feet above the tavern. The moment she appeared a few feet beside him, he teleported away again. He appeared three hundred feet away but she followed. He knew he couldn’t run from her forever. She was dead set on having her way and he couldn’t blame her. No one would wish what he did to her daughter upon their own. But he had hoped she would at least listen. It didn’t seem like that was an option anymore though.

  The moment she appeared, she stabbed at him. Her arms became a blur as they hovered midair, creating ripples of shockwaves around her. Jerome dodged but he wasn’t as fast as her in making such minute movements. She punched him in the jaw more times than he could count in a single second. Her movements were too precise and he couldn’t follow it.

  She used the blade crafted from Authority a few times and he felt his strength drain away like it was gulping it. His own punches were blocked or slapped out of the way. He didn’t have much to depend on except essence and magic, but he didn’t want to kill her. Jerome commanded the essence in the air, as sparse as it was, and slammed it into her. She grunted as she was hurled away from him. But not as far as he expected.

  She laughed. “This is going to be interesting!” she said as she shot back toward him. “A Sprout who can wield ambient essence? Now I’m glad I came looking for you!”

  Jerome cursed as he shot away. They danced around each other as they traded blows. Thankfully, she had kept that powerful blade of hers. Maybe she didn’t intend to kill him as well.

  “Don’t get your hopes up, Xerae,” Achilleia said.

  “Listen to me, Milena,” he called. “Alvion won’t survive a fight between us. Let’s take this somewhere else!”

  Her response was a punch toward the ground. Jerome felt his stomach lurch with an unnatural force as gravity took over. Before he hit the ground, she punched him again. He heard the screams of people an instant before he hit the side of a building, obliterating it to pieces. Milena was there a moment later, hurling him out of the debris.

  “In the name of the lord of the city, stop your destruction!”

  Jerome looked up to see Illan Ullysius, hovering in the air above the destruction. “Stay out of this, Illan.”

  A blur hit him with the force of a freight train and three buildings collapsed as he was hurled into them. It hurt like hell. Screams resounded all around him and he could even hear children weeping.

  “I said, stop!” Illan roared.

  A shadow blocked his view. Jerome blinked out the blurriness in his eyes to see Milena standing over him. She looked up and unleashed the power of her aura. It enveloped the whole of their surroundings and Illan fell out of the sky. She turned to him.

  “I always knew you were bad news.” She punched him in the ribs, shattering a few. The blow felt so heavy that it bounced him off the ground and shattered the surface he was lying on.

  “You should’ve just stuck to your lane.” She punched him again. “No one would’ve gotten hurt.” Another punch. “And in a few decades or so.” Another punch again. “You’d be gone, just like the rest of your predecessors.”

  “I am not like them,” Jerome said. His voice was so weak. “I will never be like them.”

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  She grabbed him by his lapels. “Then Vorthe would have to find a new Dark One.” She hurled him into the air.

  Jerome tried to control his trajectory in the air, but he felt too weak. He was spinning out of control and the force of it was causing his broken ribs to pierce his internal organs. Those blows had been so heavy, they had shattered all his ribs. He was finding it very hard to breathe and he hurt all over. But the wind as it breezed past him felt so good that he wanted to just shut his eyes and sleep. The call to relax was so strong; the call to give in. He wheezed, coughing up blood. Even that was as painful as hell.

  He sensed her the moment she closed the distance between them; saw her fist closing the gap to his face but he couldn’t raise his arm fast enough to block. He tried willing the ambient essence in the air but it was too weak against such a powerful foe. Jerome took a deep painful breath and readied himself for the impact. But just before her fist connected with his face, the beast took over.

  He felt all of its rage, twisted as it was. Its hunger for death and destruction overshadowed his intent. The beast drowned his consciousness underneath a haze of powerful emotions: rage, the need for vengeance, lust, hunger for the blood of his foes, to name a few. Milena grunted. Jerome heard more blows but he didn’t feel them. Even though he could feel adrenaline pumping through his veins, and strength coming upon him like he had never experienced before.

  He fought, fought to take back control of his body, pushed against the immaterial will holding him bound, but to no avail. His senses began to weaken and the sounds of the battle began to lessen. He floated in darkness for a long time going in and out of consciousness from time to time.

  ~~~

  Layla

  “Stop them!” she screamed at Jerome’s teammates who were hovering in the air above the city wall. Guards were converging to shoot them out of the sky but they crashed through buildings, destroying properties that may have been worth thousands in mids.

  Her mother began punching Jerome. She could hear the blows from more than five hundred yards away.

  “Please, stop her,” she cried out to Nyx. “Don’t you care that he’ll die.”

  Nyx turned to her as she joined them in the sky. Fierce golden eyes seemed to bore into her soul and paralyze her body. “This fight is Jerome’s alone. We can help but will your mother stop?”

  She looked away and Layla felt the force holding her mind paralyzed subside. She looked on as her mother kept punching Jerome in the ribs. He was going to break a lot of ribs like that. What could she do? If she tried to help, her mother would just teleport him somewhere else. She still hadn’t gotten over the fact that her mother had used her dream aura to manipulate her mind into forgetting how to fly. If not she would have gotten to the city faster and maybe she could have stopped this battle.

  Her mother hurled Jerome into the air and shot after him. The moment she closed the gap between them, Jerome retaliated. He punched her so hard that she hit the ground faster than Layla could blink, causing an explosion that rippled through the ground and air.

  “That’s not Jerome anymore,” Nyx said. The team shot forward.

  “What’s going on?” Layla asked, trailing them. “Do you mean to tell me that’s… that’s?”

  “Yes, Layla,” Sheela said. “It has taken over and we need to do something about it.”

  “You should have done something before it took over!” she screamed in frustration.

  The beast seemed to sense them. One moment it was ahead of them, the next, it was behind them. It felt like days passed trying to turn around. In that short moment, her mother shot upward, disheveled and pissed off. She and the beast exchanged numerous blows. But this wasn’t like before. It was faster and more vicious than Jerome. It had black claws tinted red, growing out of the ends of its fingers and the Sword Force emanating from each of them was beyond anything she had ever witnessed — except for Blade’s Edge Canyon.

  “Run!” her mother whispered into her ears. They clashed again, their blows causing shockwaves that destroyed buildings down below. There was so much panic and chaos below them, she didn’t know if Alvion would recover from this.

  “We have to help the people below,” Ash said.

  “I agree,” she said. “We should get the wounded out of harm’s way.

  “You, Sheela, and Ash should take care of it. We’ll help your mother.”

  “Thanks,” Layla said, trying and failing to look Nyx in the eyes. “For everything. I know I’ve not been a team player but I really want to be.”

  “Just go, Layla,” the other lady said. Layla glanced her way curiously. She had never met her before but she guessed Jerome had friends she didn’t know. And this one, like Nyx, wasn’t putting on the flying boots, or a skysail. She nodded and shot after her friends to go help as many of the denizens of the middle ring as possible.

  ~~~

  Nyx

  The battle between Jerome and Milena would draw the attention of the power houses of Vorthe if they didn’t do anything. But they had stirred up the essence and forces in the air that a storm of mixed energies had formed. It was hard to also track their movements as they were moving too fast.

  “We have to enter the fray,” she said.

  “You could get yourself killed, Nyx,” the dragonkin said, still wearing her disguise.

  Nyx snorted. “It’s hard to take you seriously looking like that. But I’ll be fine. If you get the opportunity—” Jerome punched Milena in the jaw with a fist made out of pure, rock hard ambient essence. Blood and teeth flew out of her mouth and she spun through the air. Before she could steady herself, he punched her downward.

  “Get her out of here!” Nyx said. The dragonkin shot after the bleeding Sage. Nyx faced Jerome. She tried reaching him through their connection but he felt unreachable. His eyes were glowing red and his face was twisted into a feral rage.

  “Jerome, can you hear me?” she called out but he snarled at her. It felt more like a growl and a hiss mixed in one. His neck and fingers were twitching constantly and he was bleeding from about a dozen orifices. But he didn’t notice it.

  “Jerome, try to calm—” he came at her. Nyx did the only thing she knew to put distance between them. She shot blackflame at him.

  That was a big mistake. He absorbed it like it was pure essence and right before her eyes his wounds healed. His sclera darkened from white to black, making him look even more monstrous with the glowing red irises. He roared into the air. A shockwave emanated from his voice, piercing her head like pin pricks in her skull.

  “Fuck! When did you learn to use mental attacks?!” She shot after him, but he was faster. He kicked her away like she was a piece of wood and she found herself hurtling away from the city.

  Jerome chased after Milena, destroying houses in the city as he went.

  Hey, she reached out to the dragonkin through the Common Path. Even that felt murky. It was as if she was wandering through a storm-ridden wasteland or a stormy, murky swampland, to connect with the dragonkin. Couldn’t stop him. He’s too powerful, and he’s coming after you…

  It took a while for the dragonkin’s reply to get to her. Got it. We best not communicate through the Common Path for now. The beast seems to be affecting it too.

  Nyx finally slowed herself and shot after Jerome — no, the beast. That wasn’t Jerome. The Jerome she knew wouldn’t hit her like that. And that kick had hurt. A lot!

  She caught up with him but not before he caught and pummeled Milena into the ground. She bounced off the earth and Jerome caught her in the air again. Nyx tried to push him off her, to separate them but to no avail. The dragonkin tried to pull the Sage out of his hands but she also wasn’t getting any results. Milena was barely conscious but he kept pummeling her with heavy blows. Just before they hit the ground again, he teleported them all away.

  “He can teleport?! And with three people?!” the dragonkin said. “How is that possible? I thought Achilleia said he wouldn’t have the frame of mind to use Jerome’s artifacts. And even Jerome couldn’t teleport this many people without his ring.”

  “Talking about rings—” Jerome blew them all apart in the air — “catch!” Nyx spat one of the rings Jerome had gifted her to the dragonkin. “Bond with it as quickly as possible.” The dragonkin caught the ring and Nyx concentrated on Jerome.

  What was he doing? She watched him hold Milena to himself, face hidden by her neck. He kept twitching, shaking his head, grunting, and huffing, and moving his head away from her only to move closer to her neck again. It was like he was struggling with himself. The knowledge of what he wanted to stop himself from doing — stop the beast from doing — came to her like light was turned on in darkness.

  “Fight it, Jerome!” she screamed. “Fight it! Don’t let it take control of you!”

  She closed the distance between them, put her arms around his neck to pull him off, or asphyxiate him if possible. Jerome was still too strong. It was like trying to pull an older, stronger dragon. The dragonkin joined her, trying to pull the Sage out of his arms. They struggled and struggled in the air, grunting from exertion but they couldn’t do it. Jerome was just too powerful in this state.

  “Jerome, you can do this,” she said. “You can stop it. Don’t let it take control of you, don’t let it destroy everything you’ve worked so hard to build.”

  “Think about your friends, Jerome,” the dragonkin said. “Think about Csala, Sheela, Ash” — his head whipped up to face her.

  “Continue,” Nyx whispered to her.

  “Think about Ms. Tara,” the dragonkin went on. “What would they want? Is this what they would want for you?”

  A booming sound came from one of the eight towers and a shot of fire essence blasted them out of the sky, separating them all. When Nyx righted herself in the air, she sighted Milena falling towards the earth. But Jerome was gone.