No matter what, I have to save them. There was a time when the thought of dying terrified me—not because of death itself, but what could happen if I did. The fear used to hold me back, used to keep me clinging to life like a coward.
But not anymore.
Fear was just another enemy to cut down.
Flames licked at my fingertips as I stormed forward, blades hungry for blood. The moment I crossed the threshold, something unseen slammed into me. My body whipped back, crashing into the wall with a bone-deep crack that stole the air from my lungs and made my eyes water.
A witch stood poised on the staircase, watching me like I was her personal entertainment. I didn’t recognise her. I didn't care. If she were in my way, she was already dead. I pushed off the wall, rolling my shoulders to shake the ache from my bones. My head pulsed, but I barely blinked, eyes locked on hers.
“Move. Now.” I lick my dry lips. “Or I’ll kill you where you stand.”
Either way, she’s dead.
But instead, she just laughs at me.
Well, fuck her.
Dark skin, long black hair, and burning red eyes that gleamed with arrogance. She was confident—too confident.
“You aren’t strong enough to take me.”
Oh, she was mistaken.
A slow, dangerous grin spreads across my face as the temperature around us plummets. Frost hisses across the floor like a curse. The chandeliers above rattle in protest as the wind howls to life, swirling around her in a tightening spiral. She raises her hand, magic crackling at her fingertips—dark and chaotic—but it's already too late.
I subtly jerked my head, and the wind slammed into her like a fist, dragging her toward me, feet scraping uselessly against the floor. Her mouth opened to scream or curse me, but she's too slow, and that's what you get for underestimating me.
My blade hovered at her throat, feather-light, before driving in with ruthless precision. Her eyes went wide, disbelief twisting her features as a strangled cry tore from her lips. Blood spilt over me. Her magic flared in a desperate, futile burst—but it didn't matter. The dagger drank her soul, ravenous, ripping the life from her with the same feral hunger that churned deep inside me.
I leaned in close just before she dropped to the ground, voice soft and sweet.
“You were saying?”
Her body hit the floor with a sickening thud, and without a backward glance, I stepped over it, the dagger clutched tighter in my hand. My pulse hammered against my ribs, limbs trembling as raw magic leaked from me in ragged waves. I shoved the exhaustion to the side, letting nothing—not fatigue, not pain—touch me.
There was no time. They needed me.
“You’re draining yourself.”Xarothar's voice growled in my mind, annoyed. The usual tone he took when I was being—well, me.
I leaned against the bannister for half a second, forcing a breath past the fire in my lungs.“Yeah, I noticed. Thanks for the update, Captain Obvious.”
“You need to stop.”
I know.
“Relax. I’m fine.”
I wasn’t, but whatever.
“You sound like a dying animal. Fine is not the word I would use.”
I rolled my eyes.“You’re not exactly a ray of encouragement, you know that?”
“I’m not here to encourage. I’m here to keep you from getting yourself killed doing something idiotic. Like this.”
I swept my gaze across the room and over the bannister, up and down, but there was no time to linger.
“You should be able to sense the chatty one.”
