text: Mikel stood on the rooftop, chest heaving as he realized there was nowhere else to go. Overhead, the fireworks lit the sky up in a series of magnificent colors. Shades of blue and red and green seemed to add millions of sparkling new stars to the sky. Past the celebration, Mikel could hear the screams and mad rush of people as the city panicked. Listening further, he could hear the pounding feet of his assailants as they raced up the stairs after him. Any minute now and they’d be upon him. For the hundredth time Mikel pondered if he had done the right thing. He wracked his brain for all the possible choices and all the potential outcomes. Maybe he should have said something. Maybe he should have told Darius he knew where the blast would come from. Maybe then the Baron would still be alive, and the city wouldn’t be burning while it celebrated. The pounding was closer now. Any second Darius himself would be up those stairs, Kull and Sarina flanking him. Bartholomew would come soon after. Mikel would try to explain it to them, that he believed he made the right choice. He doubted they would hear him though. Blood had been spilt, and some things aren’t so easily forgiven. So Mikel prepared for a fight. He drew his sword with his right hand and concentrated his magic through the rune symbols etched on his left. His last rune mark began to glow just as they arrived. Darius was first, followed by Kull and Sarina. They were panting from hunting him across the city. Blades had been drawn a long time ago, their rune arms primed and enchanted. All of them were killers and fighters who knew the business well. Mikel considered trying to strike before they could catch their breath. In the end he decided against it, needing them to try and listen. He thought about his choice again. He needed it to be the right one. Darius and Mikel locked eyes, Darius’s own glowing bright like the moon. Mikel saw fury there, but also to his surprise a deep sadness likely stemming from betrayal. Mikel tried to steel himself from it. He couldn’t block it all though, and Mikel’s heart grew heavier still. Mikel started to open his mouth but found it drier than anticipated. He tried to clear his throat so he could speak, but before he could get a word out Darius beat him to it. “How long did you know?” He leveled the question with venom, not caring to mince words. “Does it matter?” Mikel asked. Darius glared his answer, and Mikel sighed heavily. “Since last week.” Darius fumed. He gripped his sword tighter. “Why? Why let that bomb go off?” The silence stretched for an eternity. Mikel found himself asking that same question, wondering why he’d let everything change. He decided to go with the simple answer. “He was a tyrant Darius.” “HE WAS KEEPING THE PEACE!” Darius bellowed as a massive firework brought a red dragon to life in the sky. Only Darius seemed more bristled with rage. “He needed to die.” Mikel said the words softly, seeming to almost be trying to convince himself as much as the three in front of him. “And my brother...did he need to die?” Sarina leveled the question with a cold fury poorly hidden behind chopped purple hair. Mikel had never seen her angry before. Now he saw nothing but hate in her eyes, and it made him shudder. “I tried to warn Daniel. I tried to tell him to get away before-” “But you didn’t.” She cut him off, not wanting to hear anymore. “He’s dead.” Mikel paused, his face failing to mask the pain and guilt he felt. “I’m sorry Sarina. I really am.” “Sorry doesn’t bring him back.” There was nothing for a long moment other than their furious stares. Fireworks exploded overhead. They painted the rooftop in celebratory colors before fading and becoming washed with the dark. City lights extended long shadows, Mikel’s being the longest of all. “You ready?” Darius growled. Mikel met the gaze of his once dear friend with red rimmed eyes. He was already so tired in every facet of the word. He thought again, as he would for his remainder, if he should have said something, should have stopped the Red Sons from killing the Baron and all his men. He could have saved Daniel. He would still be able to call those in front of him his companions, his family. But it was too late, and now he could only hope that there would be some better future from the chaos and flames below. Another firework. Another brilliant flash. Mikel’s runes glowed. “No. But let’s do this anyway,” He muttered sadly. His three assailants’ runes glowed ready. Their feet pivoted and tensed. A barrage of distant screams signaled the start of the show’s finale. And then they were off. The trio burned towards Mikel faster than possible. Mikel was faster. A flash of purple and a flick of his rune arm sent needle crystals so dark they were almost night itself towards the three killers. Darius turned them to dust and Kull slid under. Sarina was not as quick, and caught several to her side. Her veins glowed purple all the way to her eyes, and she crumbled to the ground. Darius heard her screams all the way to Mikel. Their blades moved so fast it could be lost in the mirage of colors exploding in the sky. They were perfectly matched, even with Darius’s moon eyes seeing everything and predicting Mikel’s every move. Neither were better enough to score a blow. The fireball from Kull threw Mikel off enough for Darius to land the first cut to Mikel’s cheek. Mikel recovered a second later only for Kull to continue his barrage. The masked, silent man whipped knives at Mikel so fast they streaked beams of light behind them as they went. Mikel knocked Darius back with a gust of wind and parried all but the last knife, which sunk deep into his side. He had time to flinch, but nothing more. A half second later Kull was on Mikel, swinging with precision and fighting like a rabid dog. More than anyone on that roof Kull was a killer, hallow dark eyes staring unblinking from behind a crudely painted skull mask. Kull whipped his short sword with an expert ruggedness. He had no proper training, no real finesse, and yet Mikel still struggled all the same. Kull even used his magic crudely. An icicle formed in his rune hand, aimed for Mikel’s throat. Mikel side stepped roughly back, so Kull whipped the icicle at blinding speed low to Mikel’s calf. Mikel shifted his leg just in time to avoid being impaled. He barely righted himself before Kull and Darius were on him again. Swords swung and magic slanged at desperate speed, each of the men trying their utmost best to kill one another. As Mikel back stepped, Darius made his first off footed move with an overextended thrust. He tried to correct, but it was too late. Mikel slashed Darius’s left arm’s outer tendon, and his sword clattered to the ground. Kull tried to correct the loss, throwing fire at close range. But Mikel deflected, and the fire swung onto Darius’s face. Darius howled in pain. The left half of his face instantly blistered, one glowing eye already damaged to a crisp as it was lost to the inferno. Mikel focused all his energy on Kull whose dark eyes continued to remain ever stagnant. Kull slung more ice and fire Mikel’s way, but the shifting purple field around Mikel’s runes consumed it all. Their blades danced a moment longer until Mikel threw the field like a net, catching and paralyzing Kull’s left side. A few swipes later, and Kull’s sword lay on the ground and he was on his knees with a slash across his chest. There was a measure of stillness just before Kull collapsed bleeding onto the rooftop. Those dark eyes never betrayed a thing, and he didn’t make a sound as he lay dying. Mikel turned when he felt something slash his back and his whole body screamed misery. He found Sarina free of the crystals and whipping a purple tendril at him for a second time. It connected and Mikel’s shoulder exploded in pain. He barely got his rune hand up in time to block the third strike as Darius barreled into him from the side and knocked Mikel to the ground. Howling like a mad man, Darius began to beat Mikel. Blow after blow came to Mikel’s head and body, and his world began to fade to black. Darius only paused when Sarina arrived to take Mikel’s head. She hefted her sword. For a moment Mikel thought this was fate. He deserved to die. He was a traitor. He’d allowed many to die. He’d killed many more with his own hands. He knew Sarina deserved her revenge. And still his guilt piled higher as his rune hand glowed and his paralyzing aura expanded and launched Darius and Sarina back with a furious yell. The fireworks were gone. Mikel lay there crying while the other two just lay still, frozen by the pain of the magic. Mikel was so spent and so tired, but he knew he had to keep moving. He crawled to a rise, hobbling over to his sword and stooping to pick it up while his thundering head clouded the world. Mikel looked at the two assailants struggling to untangle themselves from the magic. He knew he’d have to kill them. The road he now walked deemed it so. He tried to convince himself he could let them live, but in his mind he knew it couldn’t be. Maybe in another life , he concluded. Mikel took three steps toward his a dark fate, and that’s when Bartholomew crashed down from the sky. Mikel turned as the roof shook, trying to stand as tall as he could against the imposing figure before him. Bartholomew’s snow white wings folded back behind his midnight black garb. He stared Mikel down, golden spear in hand. Then Bartholomew looked past Mikel to his fallen companions, and a calm fury rested in his eyes. “All this blood...was it worth it Mikel?” “I didn’t want this part. I didn’t want to fight them.” “And yet here we are and here they lie.” The roof was silent aside from a slight gust of the wind and the distant sounds of the riots below. “Did you not think this chaos would happen?” Bartholomew accused rather than asked. “I saw it as necessary.” Bartholomew leveled a hard look. “Necessary? Daniel is dead. The Baron is dead. People are savaging each other in this chaos.” Mikel tried to level a hard look. “I did what I had to.” Bartholomew for a moment revealed a pensive sadness before hiding himself before Mikel. “Then those deaths and the ones happening now are on you.” Mikel grew into a rage at the arrogance of the words, of the judgement Bartholomew leveled down from his high seat heading the Agency. Mikel’s rune hand pulsed, and with a roar he tossed a mass of chaotic magic at his former mentor and friend. Bartholomew caught it as easy as if it were a child’s toy. The magic that had so easily bound and tortured Mikel’s other three assailants slid gently off Bartholomew’s hand and fell to the ground were it burned with a purple haze. As he watched in a mixture of sadness and horror, Mikel finally accepted he was going to die. The spear came so fast that even if Mikel had tried to react it would have been fruitless. The force was so great it carried him over the roof and he began to fall to the ground below, spear pushing him the whole way. He thought for the thousandth time if he’d made the right choice not telling Darius of the Red Sons’ plot. A single tear came to his eye as he began to grasp all the death he had caused to end one life. He wasn’t sure if he could lie to himself anymore. He hoped he would be forgiven. He knew deep down he would not. Bartholomew got to edge of the roof to see Mikel impaled on the ground below. All around him people fought and looted and burned the city to the ground. The Duke was dead and the Red Sons had gotten what they wanted. Now it was Bartholomew’s turn to wonder what could have been different. Maybe he could have prepared Mikel better, could have guarded the boy’s heart further. He sighed deep and choked back the well of emotions. Now wasn’t the time. There was no going back. He looked to his other students as they slowly unwound the magic from their bodies. Then Bartholomew spread his wings and descended into the abyss.