Will

"Handsome left the keep suddenly without notifying me," Brimstone said, coming a little closer, then falling short maybe twenty feet away. His face was all in shadow. "He doesn't usually do that. I had a bad feeling, so I went after him. Then I saw a semblance being used… Was that yours, Will? Were you fighting the Captain? What became of him? And what of Handsome?"

"Handsome is dead," Will replied, "along with Saint Capitaine." He put his back against the wall, let out a long, labored sigh, and jabbed the adrenaline syringe into his thigh. Plunged it down, cringing, then threw the empty injector away. "It's, uh… It's a bit of a long story. Mind if I tell you later? I'm kinda… bleeding out, I think."

"How could this have happened?" Brimstone asked urgently, entirely ignoring Will's request.

"Well… Handsome thought I'd have trouble tonight, so he came along with some of those commandos instead of the regular detail. They backed me up against Saint Capitaine. Didn't think I'd need the help, but I guess he was right in the end… Our guy knew we were coming. Put up quite a fight."

"So many of you against one man, and you're the only one who made it? And if Saint Capitaine did all this, why does it look as though that woman has had her throat cut? He fights with a quarterstaff—everyone knows this."

"That's because he had backup of his own. Some of Winter's people, maybe. They had blades. I know that well enough—got stung pretty bad myself." Will motioned vaguely to the sword jutting from his abdomen.

"Where are the rest of the bodies, then?"

"Swallowed up by my semblance. You won't be seeing them anytime soon, I'm afraid. You'll have to take my word for it."

Brimstone was very still. "This is all very convenient for you."

"Convenient?" Will laughed. "Can you not see that I've been turned into a human skewer? Speaking of which…"

"Yes, speaking of that. The sword you have inside you is quite unmistakable. Of special make, forged by the Toymaker, they were given only to a few of Thorpe's most trusted soldiers."

"Huh." Will was straining his addled mind to keep his increasingly desperate lies straight. "One of the enemies must have picked it up off the ground or something. Look, I'm happy to answer whatever questions you have, but I need a Physician first. You won't get many answers out of a dead man."

"That's true, Will. That's true." Brimstone's voice had dropped to a low, dangerous monotone. "I wonder what Handsome would have told me, if he were here."

"Same as me, I reckon."

"I'm not so sure."

Will sighed deeply. This was going nowhere, and he didn't have time to keep running around in circles with Brimstone. "Fine," he grunted, and with a long, slow pull began withdrawing the sword embedded in his body. There was almost no pain, just a strangely satisfying feeling, like that of pulling out a large splinter. "I killed Handsome. Is that what you want to hear? I killed him, and I killed the commandos."

"Why?" Brimstone asked. "Why would you do that?"

Will cleared the sword, let it clatter to the cobbles, and immediately felt a fresh wave of blood surge out of the open wound, flowing down his bare torso. Still needed to buy a few more seconds.

"I didn't want to say, because I didn't think you'd believe me." He shuffled away from the wall and put himself side-on with Brimstone, left arm covered by his body so his sheet was concealed, as well as the signs he was weaving with his left hand. Difficult with his missing left pinky, leaving only four fingers to work with, but he managed.

[Error. Insufficient AP.]

He kept signing.

"Yes?" Brimstone prompted impatiently.

"I've been suspecting Handsome of working against you for some time. That he's been using his divine vow to win your confidence, while in reality obfuscating facts and telling half-truths to maneuver you against his personal enemies. There is a conspiracy, my lord. A grand conspiracy against you."

Brimstone considered in silence. "If it is as you say, why not come to me?"

"Who would you believe? The man who has made a divine vow to only tell the truth, or a hired killer? No, I knew I would need extraordinary evidence to bring those charges against him. He must have caught on, because he and those commandos attacked me, presumably intending to pass off my death as coming at the hands of my target."

"What you're telling me could be the truth," Brimstone said slowly. "But my intuition tells me that you are lying. There's something… false about you."

Will was too exhausted to keep up the ruse. He just shrugged. "Do you really want to do this, my lord?"

"It's true, then? You're a traitor?"

"Yep. Been meaning to find an opportunity to kill you, actually."

"Winter got to you, then?"

Will laughed. "Fuck Winter. You really think this is about her? Open your fucking eyes, man." One last failed attempt at a signcast, and a sort of built-up pressure inside him finally snapped. Glancing down, he saw one, two, three, four, five of his empty AP crystals fill up with a blood-red light, pulsing softly.

AP exertion. An advanced technique not endorsed by the Concord that involved forcing the body to cannibalize its own energy and convert it into AP. Convenient in a pinch, but it came with a heavy price. He'd have maybe a minute, two max, before he got hit with the recoil.

"If not Lady Winter, then who?" Brimstone asked, still sounding eerily calm. "Tell me now, or I will have to burn it out of you back at the keep. You've seen what that looks like."

"I'll tell you," Will said quietly, almost at a whisper, to urge Brimstone closer. "It's—" He broke into a whirling Dash, hoisting Anathema up over his head for a downward swing.

Brimstone saw him coming. He raised his hand, and for a moment his burn-scarred face was etched in stark light as a flame roared to life in his palm and exploded outward into a giant fireball as wide as the street itself.

Will completed his swing, and felt a small wash of relief when his sword cut into the fire like it was a solid thing and split it clean in two, an invisible cutting edge extending well past the point of the blade. Heat seared his cheeks as the bisected conflagration wheeled past him on either side, producing a terrible roar that blew in the windows of nearby buildings and left facades smoldering as the brightness quickly died away.

Though almost as surprised as the wide-eyed lord that the Cancel effect imbued into Anathema had worked as he'd hoped, Will never broke stride, and followed up his downward stroke with one in the opposite direction. Brimstone scrambled back, narrowly escaping, and Will continued into a furious combination, pressing his advantage.

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Shuffling back, Brimstone launched a wave of billowing fire with a swipe of his hand, but Will leapt high past both it and the lord himself, kicked off a wall, came spinning for the back of Brimstone's neck.

Brimstone ducked without looking back, came up fists blazing. Will cut up another fireball, landed, Dashed away from the second. Always moving to keep Brimstone from pinning him down, and ignoring the steady drip of blood from his midsection. No time to worry about that now.

"You know," Will said as he was trying to make it into an alley, but Brimstone cut him off, moving with disconcerting speed, and Will was forced to jump away again. "Aside maybe from Griff, the only one ever loyal to you was Dawn." He slashed an explosion, and weaved a combination of one, two, three blazing fists as Brimstone leapt into melee, and made some distance between them with a warning swipe of his blade. "Even after you roasted her like a rotisserie chicken, she told me she still loved you. That you had good in you. Such devotion. And how did you repay her?"

Will could tell that struck home. Brimstone faltered, fists dropping for a moment. Will went for his neck, but Brimstone still narrowly swiveled out of the way. He probably had Danger Sense warning him; the best sensory passive available to a Cook-Laborer. Will would have been shocked to find out that a paranoid bastard like Brimstone hadn't invested in it.

Will knew that even by the most optimistic estimate, he had no chance of beating Brimstone, especially if he let the fight draw out long. At this point, every second was vital.

While the lord was still stumbling off-balance, reeling with the emotional blow he had been dealt, Will saw his opening. He took it, and shot into a mad Dash up to the nearest rooftop, and broke into a dead sprint from there. Headed somewhere—anywhere, really. He just needed to move fast enough to lose Brimstone before his adrenaline boost ran out, or exertion recoil caught up with him, or blood loss took him down. A race against the clock on three fronts.

He leapt from one roof across the thoroughfare, starting with a Repel off a street lamp to get some initial momentum, then a Dash once it came off skill lag to get him the rest of the way to the first building on the other side. He skidded across tiles vaguely contoured by moonlight. Although barely able to feel his feet, he found himself strangely sure-footed. A complete clarity of purpose had come over him; his body pulling out every single stop to keep him moving, moving, moving.

Unless he could lose Brimstone somewhere in the city sprawl, maybe his best bet at this point was to aim for the eastern wall. Surely, the lord would not pursue him out into the wilds. Not far, anyway.

Despite himself, Will was beginning to nurture a weak hope that he had shaken his pursuer. Almost instantly, he was jinxed by a distant fiery roar, followed by another a beat later—closer and louder—then a third. Suddenly, Brimstone came jetting past, his tattered robes smoking and afire as he skidded to a stop on a roof ahead and on the right.

With a muttered curse, Will dipped down to street level. A second later, an earthshaking explosion tore the house he'd just left behind to ruin, sent burning wreckage flying everywhere. There were screams.

Will kept going, picking up speed; sticking to a straightaway path so he could aim his Dashes at max range that sent him hurtling almost uncontrollably.

No Brimstone for a while; then he suddenly cannonballed into the next building over, breaking through one end, blowing off the entire far wall with an explosion and coming out the other end at a hard sprint as Will went past, closing up just a few yards behind.

Will switched up his tactic, pivoted sharply with a Dash to take the next right, kept weaving this way and that through side streets and alleyways to obfuscate his passage.

Brimstone was not fooled. He'd fall back just long enough for Will to believe that he might have shaken him, then come rocketing out of nowhere. He appeared to be using controlled explosions as a method of propulsion, seemingly not caring that he was hurting himself in the process as he went ragdolling through buildings and skidding over cobbles, moving with the ferocity of a rabid animal. Only a man as mad as Brimstone could ever conceive of such a self-destructive method of travel.

Will didn't have the time or the presence of mind to figure it, but there was something strange going on. Even in his diminished state, he knew he was leaving a small footprint. He was proficient enough at moving without being seen that he could do it without thinking, and with his Light Touch passive cranked all the way he couldn't be producing much sound, if any.

But Brimstone was still staying on top of him, seemed to have no trouble sniffing him out regardless of how much distance he made between them. How? A Cook-Laborer would not have access to Detect, and Danger Sense wouldn't help the lord at all in sniffing out Will's location. He couldn't think of any relevant sensory abilities Brimstone would have access to.

So how? What was he doing?

Next time Brimstone got close, Will expended one precious AP on a cast of Identify [Skill Use]. It returned invalid.

Figures.

Brimstone probably had Incognito, making him immune to being targeted by such effects. Will continued down one street, two, then amended his cast to Identify [Skill Effects], which did not target Brimstone specifically and therefore might have a better chance of working.

[Active skill effects: Identify, Chill, Rest.]

The first one was his own cast. The other two… An active cast of Chill, probably so Brimstone could keep himself from overheating. But Rest…?

Will took a wrong step, rolled his ankle, upset his balance further when he tried to catch himself, and went staggering into an alleyside refuse heap. By the time he had extricated himself, spitting and cursing, Brimstone was ahead of him, blocking his path.

The lord's robe was a smoldering ruin, smoke rising off him in sheets. His arms dangled limp by his sides, and his chin was down on his chest, head lolling. He really did look half-asleep. Going by his half-exposed left arm, he had hardly used any of his 24 AP. Or maybe that was Brimstone's famous AP regeneration at work, steadily replenishing any energy he expended.

How? Will thought. How is he doing this? But now was not the time to riddle out the answer—if, indeed, such a time would ever come, which was looking increasingly impossible every second.

Will staggered to an intersection just a few feet ahead, tried to Dash left, but found that his body would not cooperate. The skill wouldn't come, even when he snarled the word out loud.

"Just fuck off, man!" Will shouted breathlessly in a pure expression of impotent fury. "Is all this… really worth it? You're the worst fucking ruler this city could possibly have. Just go off into the wilds or something, live as a hermit." He shook his head violently. "You're no good around people. You destroy anyone you come into contact with."

Brimstone came walking toward him, a slight limp in one leg. His head was still bowed low, looking at nothing except maybe his own feet. Almost like he was in a trance.

"If you really value the people of this city…" Will said, trying desperately to catch his breath. "...you should leave. Walk away. If you do, I'll make sure no one comes after you."

But Brimstone evidently wasn't listening. He kept walking, and fire alighted in his hands, dancing between his fingers.

Will braced for the inevitable explosion. He wasn't left waiting long. It rocked the ground, blew good sections of the surrounding buildings to burning shrapnel, sent Brimstone soaring through the air with a comet tail of fiery smoke trailing behind. Will set into a labored run to meet him, tried one last time for a Dash, succeeded. He slid low as Brimstone passed overhead with a loud whoosh, Repelled back to his feet, took off running without looking back.

He hadn't made it more than a block or two when his heart began hammering so hard it made him gasp. The recoil hit him like a rain of blows from every side, had his muscles battered and quivering. His vision doubled, and blinking furiously did nothing to fix it. He missed a step, tried to catch himself against the wall beside him, found nothing but air. Toppled flat, tried to get up, found his arms floppy and limp, all the strength leaked out of them in an instant.

With an extreme effort, he managed to roll onto his back, gasping for air in fast, uneven jolts. Right arm outflung, still gripping Anathema so tight he feared his knuckles might pop out of alignment.

Done for. All done. He stared up at the black sky, trying to reckon the point of it all. So much effort, for what?

A shadow fell over him, and Will felt an odd calm, a last breath escaping him in a long sigh as his muscles went slack.

"You're not easy to keep up with," came a voice that decidedly did not belong to Brimstone. The voice of Henri Saint Capitaine.

"Now… you show up?" Will worked out with a chuckle that turned into a flaccid coughing fit. "You heroes sure have a… a funny sense of timing."

"Be quiet," Henri said, and his big silhouette filled up all that remained of Will's field of view. He was vaguely aware of arms under him, then being lifted up. "Miss Serene is trying to keep him distracted with her Illusions. Pray for all our sakes that she is successful."

Will was at least halfway certain that this was some sort of cruel hallucination on his way out the door to this mortal coil, but when Brimstone's explosions echoed over the city once more, they did sound further away.

"I will find you!" came Brimstone's hoarse voice at a distant, full-throated yell. "Wherever you are hiding, I will find you, and I will burn you to ash! Traitors! All of you, traitors!"

Will could not help but laugh as he slowly slid out of consciousness.

"I will find you!" was the last thing he heard before the dark took him.

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