The Tower vibrated so violently Araan thought the room would shatter. The sudden heat worsened every injury he'd gotten. It hurt to even breathe and the air... The burning Tualankir blood corrupted every bit of it.

  Araan stand up, he said to himself. They were words he had never told himself before. The gas, the burning blood, Araan felt like he was next to a delacite field.

  You can't fall where the common soldier falls. Stand up!

  He lifted his head first. The room was consumed in a green fire. Screaming everywhere. Bodies burned, living and dead alike; Soldier and Scavenger. Both Tualankir, even Araan burned.

  The Tualankir wouldn't be hurt, it thrived in moments like these, the Second Tualankir was already preparing for another orb. With no riders, it would stop only when it wanted. There would truly be no one to save then. He tried to stand a second time and his body obeyed.

  Running came easier than standing up. Right before the explosion, the soldiers and guards had fought closer to Tisiryk's throne, the dying Tualankir blocking the side where the transparent wall had been. The active Tualankir was by Araan's throne. It took a moment but he formed a plan as he charged at the creature with a swelling sac in its mouth.

  The fire wasn't waning as the blocked entrances stopped the gases and blood fumes from escaping. It would take moments he didn't have to push the dead Tualankir out of the way. The only way was to ride the active Tualankir and push the other one out of the room.

  Being on fire in a burning room still didn't mask Araan from the Tualankir. It surged its tail forward, swatting at him as he ran. With the orb forming taking its attention, the attacks lacked coordination. It didn't even notice when he escaped the tail's range.

  Unfortunately, his hotter, burning armour meant the creature could tell exactly where he was on its back. To that effect, it shook itself violently, jerked and collided against the walls. Araan fell off and landed on a wing which the Tualankir partially stretched and flapped. He held on, latching onto one of the rippings in the wing, then he timed it. At the upstroke, he leaped off aiming for the neck.

  Araan landed, missing the target. He'd expected the strips of skin to be there like before but there weren't any. Like the non- metallic sections of his armour, they had burned off.

  He grabbed onto a protrusion in the neck shell just in time to avoid sliding off it completely. The Tualankir didn't like him being there but it was difficult to shake him off while the flesh orb was still attached. That was when Araan realized how close he was to the orb. It was already double his height in its width. If, for some reason, it exploded prematurely... It wouldn't just be his armour burning.

  Nothing could be achieved dwelling on that thought, no way he could be careful enough to avoid it if it happened. The only way was to get it to listen and move where he wanted.

  Tearing its skin didn't make it obey, pain did, Araan thought in the heat of it. He moved toward the back, off the neck shell and tried to find the spots the riders had used. He couldn't, so he estimated.

  He stood on the central portion of its neck and stomped on it. No reaction. He stooped and punched, hard. The Tualankir jerked downward, screeched loudly and moved forward through the fire.

  Moving it once was one thing, controlling it was another. Araan sprinted three times across its surface and punched each time at the very edge to get it to face the transparent wall. Each time he punched, he did it harder than the last time. He didn't know if more pain meant more speed, he didn't care either. Watching the bulging orb swell was enough.

  With the Tualankir in the direction he wanted, Araan ran for the center of its neck, hitting it multiple times the moment he got there. It drove the creature into a frenzy but it move forward like he wanted. It moved so fast, Araan barely the had the time to prepare for the collision with the other Tualankir.

  The flesh orb exploded. It went right through its center of mass, the neck shell of the other Tualankir shattering simultaneously.

  Heavy, fast moving, chunks of gray flesh and shell slammed into Araan, pushing him past the blast's range. Araan tumbled down the length of the creature and crashed into another body part. He grabbed onto it and didn't let go.

  The collision did what he wanted. Mostly. Both bodies fell out of the tower but Araan had no chance to get off and they pulled him with them. Worse, the second Tualankir was still moving despite lacking its head and neck shell.

  Its actions felt like its last spark of life than a conscious action from the creature but it was a wild one. It flew forward, then upwards sharply, colliding with other Tualankir every time it turned.

  There was no pattern to study here, Araan either did something or died along with it whenever the creature was ready to fall.

  He climbed the tail of the Tualankir, as he heard the booming sound of the first one's collapse with the ground. On its level back, he charged towards its neck, breaking into a slide as he got to the spot the neck shell had once started from. He fell through the thick cluster of lifeless, cylindrical heads. He grabbed onto as many of them as he could while falling. He tugged with all the strength he could muster, roaring loudly as he did.

  The body obeyed and they both went down.

  ■

  “Tika Mehre!”

  In the midst of the chaos and the fighting, Saebith still heard it clearly. It was a painful sound, a fearful voice—a mother searching for her daughter. She shut her eyes, tried to push it out but there was nothing she could about what she heard.

  Saebith sat with her back against a wall. Another body leaned into her, pinning her against it. She wasn't a small cyperan but it was a heavy, lifeless body. The body belonged to a noble, Irakha Vinid, a stubborn youngling who only wanted to watch the Burial Games up close.

  Maybe it wasn't just his weight.

  Saebith was supposed to keep him safe. The wall her back was against was a pillar two paces away from the Oath Tower's entrance. Her mind replayed the moment the Scavengers got to them. The guards that tried to protect her and how both got killed, how Irakha pushed her out of the way so she wasn't next.

  His scream when they got to him, the sound of half his face being torn off—all that still tormented her. Then there was this mother.

  The second scream forced her eyes open.

  Saebith didn't search long. She found her by the foot of the giant steps in the Tower's walls west of her. The mother was losing a fight to a scavenger nearly twice her size. She pulled most of the mother's head-askora in one direction and pressed her down with a boot to her back. The more pain she showed, the harder the Scavenger pulled. The daughter she kept calling out to was too frightened to move.

  Tika Mehre. 'My daughter' was all she could say in that state but it was a plea to run away.

  She was surrounded by soldiers but they were all occupied fighting; most for their own lives. It had to be her.

  “Don't hate me, Irakha,” she whispered as she started to push him off, “she is still alive, don't hate me.”

  It hurt to move, she had hurt her arms and legs during her first run in with the Scavengers, right after the chaos started. The wounds in her arms were deepest and they bled. She hadn't noticed it with Iraka laying against her but standing alone, running towards the daughter, she had a faint cloud of yellow about her.

  Stolen from its rightful author, this tale is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

  A tackle. Even in a better state, it would have been the best attack she had but against a Scavenger, it meant nothing. She ran towards the daughter instead, grabbing the youngling in stride. She fought against leaving her mother but Saebith held her tightly as she ran to the Tower.

  The Scavenger got to her quicker this time. She hit Saebith's side so hard, she thought she snapped in two. Saebith landed close to the spiral inscriptions in the ground, far away from where she needed to be.

  Saebith had held the daughter through most of it until she landed. She tried to run back to her mother but Saebith grabbed her hand quickly while trying to stand. She tugged at Saebith's grip so hard, the older cyperan stumbled forward.

  Saebith wanted to say something—words were her power—but it was too chaotic for a youngling like her to listen. The explosions, roaring and screeching were so constant, so intense, she doubted even a grown cyperan would listen. She chose to hold the girl tighter and run, regardless of her protest. Apologies were always possible as long as she was alive to hear it.

  She knew the Scavenger was still after them. Saebith caught her flanking them as they ran toward the Tower. Saebith was scared. She didn't want to have left Irakha alone for nothing, but it was starting to seem that way. With her injuries, the resistant youngling she had to pull along with her, she couldn't move as fast as she wanted.

  The raider got to them soon enough. At first, she disappeared from the corner of her eye until Saebith caught sight of her again when there was less of a crowd of combatants in the area. Her new running form was deliberate; head and torso lowered so she would be unexpected when she speared them down.

  It was a move she had seen several versions of since the attack started. They were final. Everytime. Still holding the youngling tight, Saebith forced herself to stop just in time to avoid getting hit by the attack. They stumbled into a roll in the ground while the Scavenger roared and twisted its body, changing course.

  Back towards her.

  “...Steals from me!” Saebith heard the Scavenger say as she charged at them. They had only gotten up by then. All she could manage was push the youngling out the way.

  Don't stand still this time. She didn't know if she spoke the words as well but she hoped the youngling heard her.

  Saebith didn't wait for her death, even as the Scavenger grabbed her face roughly and lifted her off the ground. There was a startled look on her face when Saebith grabbed the large hand around her face with both hands, and tried to pry it off. When that didn't work, she kicked at the Scavenger's chest with all her strength. It wasn't enough to do damage but Saebith didn't care. She wouldn't give the damned raider the fear she wanted.

  Saebith knew what all this was for, she was there with the Redinan Generals when it was decided, allowed to happen. She accepted it wholly, and her death? It only meant she did what she was trained to do. There was no doubt in her mind that Lord Araan Vinid would do what was necessary after this. It hurt, more than her injury and the Scavenger's grip, to admit that even Irakha's death didn't shake that resolve.

  Maybe that was the reason this death had come for her. No one who was a part of bringing this much pain and chaos deserved to see the end of it.

  She had gotten ready for it. Didn't matter what the Scavenger wanted or how painful it was going to be, she was prepared for it. But suddenly the Scavenger lost her grip on her and Saebith fell to the ground. The Scavenger herself retreated quickly and an armoured figure blurred past, chasing after her.

  Two part armour. Gas tubes sprouting from the collar to its helmet. Twin rifles hooked on mounts in the upper back of the Jacket Section. Trigad.

  The soldier was quick and violent, too much for even a Scavenger. She constantly stumbled backwards while trying to avoid the soldier's attacks. So many chances to kill her but none were taken. Suddenly, just at the edge of Saebith's line of sight, the scavenger stumbled.

  The soldier punched her chest hard and she dropped to a knee, clutching her chest. The soldier walked around her, gripped both handfuls of askoras and tugged. There was barely time to react before the scavenger was stomped in the back. The body that dropped was headless.

  The soldier faced Saebith, unhooking one of the rifles.

  He fired and a Scavenger fell beside her.

  She had forgotten where she was for a moment, the battle was still going on, people still dying. She looked for the little daughter she had been protecting. She couldn't find her, not even by her mother who never moved from where the Scavenger had left her.

  The Trigad soldier continued protecting her, moving closer to where she was. She couldn't tell who it was under that armour, being one who always knew things she found it upsetting. How could a Trigad soldier in full gear happen to be at the Burial Games? The armour was famous, it wasn't something that would have gone unnoticed.

  Unless... she thought as the realization hit her. She suddenly felt less thankful.

  “Dirakh,” she said as he got to her. Anyone could hear the anger.

  “Get up,” he replied, curtly, not even breaking his stride.

  It didn't surprise her. Dirakh knew he was wrong for this, he just didn't care. There had been no clear order from the Generals to not bring his armour to the Tower so he did. She hated that the most. He wasn't the only one who cared about people dying, he wasn't the only one who hated that they had allowed this raid to happen—he wasn't even from Kolvak—but he still acted that way. There was no logic to it.

  Shouting at him was what felt logical right now, but Saebith decided to follow him instead. She wasn't in the right state of mind, she could say what she didn't mean to and someone could hear and then there would be more chaos. She was willing to be quiet for that.

  With Dirakh shooting down enemies in their path, she didn't have to defend herself from anyone as they walked back to the Tower. It somehow made her process other thoughts she had about Dirakh. In the midst of it, was a surge of that gratitude she hadn't let herself express. She didn't like who it was for but it felt better than worrying about the missing youngling or the guilt from Irakha—from all of this.

  Getting to the Tower's crystal pillars, he placed her behind him. There were people there now—younglings, mothers, the old. Some carried rifles—smaller than Trigad grade— firing at any approaching enemy. Others paused for a moment to watch Dirakh and her. They had been waiting for him.

  “Can you open the Tower door?” he asked.

  That was why he came for me? She wondered.

  “I can.”

  “Get to it, then.”

  She left him for the door. At first, Saebith had to force her way through the crowd but some recognized her and started to give way. The door was no different from the rest of the Tower: Tipine crystal save for etchings made from blackstone around it forming it's post. Getting there, she pulled out a tiny crystal out of a left compartment next to the engine of her Life Armour. She scraped it against the etchings on one side and the door, a solid rectangular block of the crystal, vibrated, moving backwards and then toward the side Saebith scraped.

  The crowd forced its way in before the door could open fully. She managed to get out of the way of being crushed by the body but that wasn't the end of it.

  Irakha's corpse was still out there. By the pillar right in front of the tower's entrance.

  “No!” she shouted, fighting her way to him.

  Pointless.

  “A royal one!” she said, to no one in particular. “Stand aside for the royal one! A royal one! A royal...”

  No one listened.

  She was forced to wait for everyone to go in. It felt like a whole cycle passed before it was cleared. Saebith ran to him the moment she could.

  There was hardly anything to return to.

  She wanted to mourn him but she didn't dare it. It was all her fault, what right did she have to mourn?

  She heard heavy boots coming up behind her.

  “Help me carry him, Dirakh,” she said.

  When he didn't move, she turned to face him. His helmeted faced was turned and focused on Irakha. It felt like torture as he continued to stare.

  "I don't have the time for your judgement," she blurted.

  In response, he carried Irakha and walked forward to the entrance.

  "I don't need to judge you, not after this," he said as he moved past her. "We both see it the same way now."

  She trailed behind him to the entrance. It wasn't safe to stay by the pillar or anywhere else outside, even now when everyone seemed only interested in fighting the person in front of them. She looked around again, searching for the the dead mother's daughter. She couldn't find her and with the plasma flying in every direction, the flying creatures attacking anything and everyone, she was either in the Tower with the others or dead. She trembled at the thought.

  “You are going with them, Saebith,” Dirakh said, pulling her out of her thoughts before she walked the path of self punishment.

  “What? No. I am more helpful here.” She wasn't going to hide from any of this.

  “How?” he asked. She looked away facing the battle. If she left now, she wouldn't get to see Araan put an end to all of this. She wouldn't be able to guide his actions to ensure all this death meant something.

  “You are wounded and you can't use a rifle,” Dirakh argued, his tone was hard to tell with his helmet on. “You're useless here, Saebith, but in there you can guide the people to safety and keep them so. Araan will show up soon.”

  She took her eyes of the fray when he said that bit. “How do you know that?”

  “Because I have fought alongside him. He will do what is expected of him because that is all he knows. Now you need to do your duty and save as many as you can.”

  She shook her head, agreeing.

  “While we wait, I will bring as many people as I can here and you take them to where you keep the others. Scavengers may follow so this door can only be opened when I come here.”

  “I can manage that.”

  “All that's left is—”

  The was a loud booming sound from the battlefield and violent gusts of air followed. Dirakh reacted quickly, grabbing her and shielding with his back against the wind. Another boom followed, this one louder and more forceful. She shut her eyes hiding as the winds worsened.

  Saebith could hear a roar amidst all of it. It was different from the screeching. It sounded like the roar of a cyperan but it was loud, too loud. She could hear it even as the wind blew and the winged creatures screeched. No cyperan roar had that much power.

  The winds and roars gave way to utter silence. Saebith opened her eyes and Dirakh let go and straightened, both turning to see what caused all of it.

  There were two dead winged creatures in the ground.

  Both were dead.

  The Scavengers were silent. Weary of the second body that was furthest from Saebith and the Tower. A cyperan climbed out of that second body and stood on it like a cyperan claiming a rock. He wore a ruined red Life Armour with gold highlights and on his forearms were the famous vambraces. He was aflame in bits of green fire but didn't seem to care.

  The Scavengers pulled back. The soldiers and people gathered behind him.

  Dirakh let out a laugh.

  He's here, Saebith thought.

  “Forget the plan, get in and seal the doors.” Dirakh said as he started jogging towards Araan Vinid.

  “We're about to put an end to this.”