III

  Millicent the Crimson

  Turned out returning from the garden was as simple as imagining the real world.

  Summoning Ashwing was more complex.

  Breathing deep from the fresh air in the woods outside our estate, I let instincts guide my hand. Searing energy crawled from the shard. Up my veins. Out of my skin so it hovered above my finger.

  The marble-sized ball was like a miniature sun. Air warped around it and depressed like paper underneath a pencil tip. I pushed. Paper tore, and the ball of flame ripped into the fabric of the world.

  Fire lingered behind my stroke as if I was painting. Trailing fire connected into a circle, through the centre of which one could glimpse a raging sea of flames.

  For a moment, there was only the crackling. Then came a shrill cry.

  Ashwing shot out into the sky.

  My spiritual senses remained on the shard. Summoning her emptied half of the energy inside the shard. Energy which returned if I sent her back into the garden.

  I glanced up at Ashwing flicking between the treetops.

  “Ashwing, come here.”

  Wings struck the sky as the summon dove.

  “Agility.”

  Her dive remained at the same speed. She touched down in front of me and tilted her head. Her gaze was one of a toddler discovering an interesting object.

  I sighed. ‘This is as far as I can take it for now.’

  “Ashe! Are you there?!” came Uncle’s voice.

  I drew on the canvas that was the world. Ashwing disappeared inside the gate.

  Uncle Gerald stepped from behind a tree just as the fires near my head dissipated. He eyed the fading flames but didn’t comment.

  “It’s time,” he said.

  I sighed. More training would’ve gone a long way but mastering the summoning had taken me too long.

  Uncle tapped me on the shoulder. “It’ll be alright. I believe in you.”

  “Thank you, Uncle.”

  I stood and fell in step with him. A quaint silence settled between us. One which Uncle filled quickly. He was never one to keep his mouth shut.

  “Whatever you’re planning,” he said, “it better be good. I caught wind of what Millicent was up to.”

  My brow raised. It may be cheating but I’d take any advantage I could get.

  He leaned closer. “She spent the last two weeks dousing herself in annulant.”

  “Annulant?”

  He nodded. “A medicine used to weaken the body temporarily. Doctors use it on higher realm cultivators when they need to surgically remove parts too tough for their tools. It’s not a pleasant experience.”

  I frowned. “Doesn’t that make it easier for me?”

  “That’s the point.”

  “I don’t follow.”

  “No disciple over lvl. 25 can enter Everwinter. The chosen of the Pillars will all be level 24. Their cores will already be saturated and ready for them to step into the Adept stage. By dousing herself in annulant she can control her strength as if she’s one them.”

  He stopped and fixed me with a stare. “She’s not going to hold back, Ashe.”

  I swallowed.

  Uncle shook his head. “Yeah…I hope that new class of yours has a trick or two up its sleeve.”

  “Just one,” I said, my legs suddenly wobbling.

  “Then you better make it count.”

  “What do you recommend?”

  “Take her by surprise. You only need to land a single hit on her.”

  Easier said than done. Yet I had no other choice.

  The spar was to take place where Mother and I always did our training, a sandy ground the size of a living room in the centre of the yard.

  Mother was already present. Rays of sunlight beamed down on the red cloak shielding her figure and cascaded off her sharp features—ones I thought for the longest time I’d inherited from her. They were not the most striking part of her appearance. During the second war with the Emberweavers, the way her hair didn’t change colour despite being coated in her enemies’s blood gave rise to her moniker:

  Millicent the Crimson.

  A heavy hand resting on her knees supported her as she rose. The movement was a far cry from the freedom she moved with normally.

  ‘She won’t hold back, Ashe.’

  When her glare pinned me in place, the truth of Uncle’s words settled into my bones. I realised then that the woman in front of me was not the mother I’d grown up with.

  Millicent the Crimson didn’t speak. Didn’t offer me any salute or greeting. She merely watched.

  How many seconds passed with me just standing there?

  Soft hands digging into my shoulders loosened my muscles.

  “Calm down, child,” Uncle said.

  I exhaled deep, my chest finally responding to my commands.

  “Remember,” he whispered, “Just one.”

  He moved towards the sideline where a single maid waited, carrying a rectangular box covered in cloth.

  I came to stand opposite Millicent and unsheathed my blade.

  Uncle cleared his throat. “To reiterate the rules: Millicent will limit herself solely to martial arts. Using any technique for whatever reason will proclaim Ashe the victor. Similarly, should Millicent incur a clean hit—regardless of the damage said blow does—Ashe will be victorious. Is that clear?”

  You could be reading stolen content. Head to the original site for the genuine story.

  “Yes,” I murmured.

  Millicent inclined her head.

  “Then prepare yourselves,” Uncle called. “On the count of five. One…Two…”

  I squared my stance. The medicine had clogged her pores, making her dense to my spiritual senses. But it was also why I could feel the power rippling underneath her skin. I wasn’t in doubt: she would rush me.

  Three. Uncle’s deep voice faded into the background.

  The edges of my sight blurred, vision honing in on a single location. A haze of warm breath exited my nostrils. I spun the small amount of essence in my core through my meridians to strengthen my body—the energy was like a cold wind coursing through me.

  Four.

  Reach. Distance. Keep her at the edge of my range. Tire her out. And when the moment was right…

  Five.

  I cleaved the space in front of me without thought. Metal struck steel, the clash ringing over the clearing. I leaned into the attack and shoved Millicent back. Drops of blood curved through the air from the shallow cut on her forearm which she’d used to block the attack.

  My lips pressed together. ‘I didn’t even see her move.’

  So don’t give her room to do so.

  A sharp intake of breath propelled me forwards. She ducked so my first strike cut nothing but a few untruly strands of hair, then swept for my feet when I tried to come around and continue my assault.

  I lifted my foot and planted my heel in her face.

  Jubilation rose inside me, sharp and roaring. Only for me to realise I hadn’t hit her face but her arms again. She jumped back before I could press any further.

  I grimaced. There was her space. But Millicent didn’t rush me.

  Her hands moved to her shoulders. “I feared you’d let up on your sword training but your movements are sharp.”

  Slender but calloused fingers unclasped her cloak. A black, buttoned tunic with flame patterns running from the waist up to the chest revealed itself. Dense muscles poked out of the sleeveless arms. Millicent cracked her neck and pulled one of her arms across her body into a stretch.

  “I wouldn’t dare, Mother. You’d kill me if I slacked on my swordsmanship.”

  “Good that you know,” she hummed, leaning low onto one leg to loosen her inner thighs. “From what the maids told me, you spent your time hiding in the woods. You must have something prepared. I suggest you use it before this next exchange is over.”

  I swallowed. Uncle was right. The one thing I had going for me was surprise. No matter how much I wanted to see Ashwing in action, she would not stand a chance against Millicent. My best bet was the moment I summoned her. I’d need to use the instant that bought me to end the fight. If I didn’t…

  ‘Don’t think about it.’

  Energy left my shard. I kept the essence at the ready right below the skin of my index finger, then raised my blade high over my head.

  Millicent straightened. I blinked. By the time my sight returned, she was in my face. A quick pirouette made the punch bite air instead of my jaw. The blowback of the strike broke on my face. My eyes widened. If that connected—

  My stomach fell, which was more warning than I needed. Her elbow whistled through the space my face occupied an instant before. I jumped away, scrambling to hold onto the energy of the shard.

  But the connection was slipping.

  ‘I have to do it now!’

  Her heel kicked the ground. The force launched a gout of sand and got my feet off the floor. For a moment, I was weightless.

  Knuckles lined up with my face.

  One hand released my blade and drew the circle. Fire trailed and connected like a snake biting its own tail.

  Her gaze wrenched to the side as Ashwing tore through. Even unprepared as she was, she swung her arm at the summon like a club.

  Ashwing curved mid-air but the difference in stats was too much. The glancing blow sent my familiar careening to the floor, kicking up a mound of sand in the process.

  I didn’t look to see what became of her. Ashwing had done her job. Aborting her attack mid-way had gotten Millicent off-centre. Her feet were shifting back into position but I touched the ground first.

  Her hands weren’t in a position to deflect so she was wide open. Where to strike—

  ‘Always go for the head,’ Mother’s voice reverberated in my mind.

  My blade flashed…

  And the decision to pick a different target happened in an instant. The point angled towards her abdominal, which was equally as unprotected.

  ‘I win.’

  Millicent’s gaze narrowed. She leaned backwards and raised her leg so the blade carved through her shins instead of her gut. Only the blade didn’t carve through. Whatever the annulment had done to her, it didn’t soften the bones enough. My blade got stuck.

  Heart exploding in my chest, I yanked back—

  I caught a glimpse of her elbow, then my mouth exploded and something gave. I stumbled backwards. Whatever had broken shot into my throat. I coughed but couldn’t get it out of my airway.

  “Let me help you with that.”

  My stomach caved. Four white, glistening objects smeared with blood shot out my mouth. Darkness swallowed the relief I should’ve felt as my vision went dark. Something hooked my foot out from under me causing me to trip. Water sloshed inside my head. I looked up through bleary eyes at the silhouette standing over me.

  Shadows blocked the sight of her face as did the tears. In that temporary darkness, Millicent was like a dark angel covered in blood.

  “You didn’t go for the head.”

  A vise grip yanked me up by the hair.

  “Do you know why? Because you’re a good girl, Ashe. A kind, sheltered soul who doesn’t have what it takes to hurt others.” The shadowy deity leaned closer. Her breath warmed my ears as she whispered: “The kind with no business in a mystic realm where nothing will spare her a second thought before killing her.”

  I wheezed. A clot of blood forced its way out my throat. No other response managed to.

  My head hung suspended for another moment, then crashed to the floor.

  “You’ll stay down if you know what’s good for you.”

  Then Millicent the Crimson walked away.

  Unable to look at the damage she’d done to her poor girl, Millicent gently lowered Ashe’s face, then walked off. Limped, really.

  Even with but a split second to find her footing again, Ashe had managed to cleave through her flesh.

  ‘Damned monster.’

  She’d trained her too well. And if that abdominal strike had landed? Well, the burns shooting up her leg were but a grain in the sandbox of pain she’d suffered from a similar strike in the past.

  At least her womb was no longer there to be infected.

  Still, though her wounds burned, the blood clinging to her knuckles seared Millicent more than anything. Beside herself, she glanced towards the sideline, where Gerald minutely shook his head at her. She wrenched her sight away.

  “I had to do it,” she whispered. Though she knew he could hear her, she spoke more to herself than anyone else. It’s the type of girl Ashe was—headstrong and stubborn just like her father. Beating the lesson into her was the only option.

  ‘Just make her stay down, Roland. That’s all I ask. Please.’

  He was ever the better of the two of them at convincing their little girl.

  But perhaps Roland hadn’t heard her.

  Cloth shoes shuffled over sand. Stomach dropping, Millicent cast a look over her shoulder.

  Loose, sweat-matted hair covered the majority of Ashe’s face (thank the heavens), but the strands couldn’t hide the red ichor gushing from her mouth. Swelling flaps of skin around her eye sockets threatened to consume her fiery gaze. Her little girl swayed once before catching herself and getting into her stance.

  Millicent’s head sagged. “Are you really going to force me to do this, Ashe? Do you think I enjoy hurting you?”

  Her daughter’s ragged breathing paused. “…Yesh…” came the sad whistle through the gap in Ashe’s teeth.

  ‘Just like her damned father.’

  Despite the pain, Millicent planted her feet and ate the distance between them. Though the annulment had sapped her physical strength, her senses remained intact, so she felt the essence gathering in Ashe’s finger clear as day.

  No chosen of the Pillars, genius or not, would be able to sense the essence in another this clearly. Therefore, this could be considered cheating.

  But Millicent would do anything to keep her daughter home.

  The crack inside Ashe’s chest shot up Millicent’s knuckles into her heart. She’d overdone it. But she’d stopped the flow of energy.

  Millicent caught her toppling daughter and pulled Ashe into an embrace.

  “The recovery pill!” Millicent yelled at the maid.

  But when the girl scrambled to do her bidding, Gerald held her back.

  “What are you doing?!” Millicent snarled.

  A chuckle in her ear made her freeze.

  “Nowww whoseee…bein’..sentimental…”

  Millicent turned to the side just in time to catch the red blur of feathers shooting for her face. She let go of Ashe and leaned back so the beast passed in front of her nose.

  ‘I didn’t kill it?’

  To think it could withstand a blow from her…

  A burst of energy brought her attention back to the front. Ashe was in the middle of falling forward but had somehow drawn another portal.

  She didn’t give whatever was coming out the opportunity and kicked through the gate. It was her bad foot she used and landed on, which was why she sagged through her knees.

  The gate went up in smoke.

  ‘Nothing came out?’ Millicent frowned.

  No, wait. That was a diversion—

  A faint sting in her neck made her act on reflex. Essence shot through her entire body as if from a bursting dam.

  Pieces of iron clattered to the floor. Joining it was the wailing cry of a bird turning to fumes.

  Millicent reached for her neck. There wasn’t a lot. Yet her digits came away flecked by a warm, sticky substance.

  If she’d been any slower with calling on her art…

  Laboured breathing drew her gaze. Ashe’s knuckles were white around the hilt of the broken blade in her hand. Her eyes, however, were relaxed. As if she was contemplating what she’d have for dinner.

  The last echoes of the falling pieces of iron faded and morphed into the wrathful strike of rain on a stormy night a long time ago. The estate hadn’t been back then. But Millicent was standing right here, having rushed over after Roland issued a distress call. Instead of finding him surrounded by enemies, she found the man—with his shaggy head of dark red hair and pale, stern face—smiling and cradling an oversized child in his arms.

  ‘She’s a gift from the heavens, Millicent,’ Roland had said as he made to hand her the girl.

  Millicent had hesitated. How could a woman like her, with her hands so bloodied, hold onto a being so vulnerable?

  The clattering rains faded. Millicent closed her eyes.

  But this was no vulnerable child. No longer. And so, though everything inside her rebelled against the idea, Millicent rose with a sigh.

  “You win,” she said, a warm feeling rising in her chest.

  Her sentence had barely finished when Ashe collapsed.

  Smiling, she draped her daughter over her shoulder.

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