“Undoing the illusion is going to achieve nothing but draw this out,” Constance says, looking through me to his brother. “We could have already finished this without anyone having to die.” His gaze slides impassively over to me. “Well, without many people having to die.”


    “Why?” Quell asks, his voice cracking. “I don’t understand. Why would you do this?”


    In the background, the others are clashing. It worries me that Liz still hasn’t moved, but I’ve little time to think about her when I need to keep Quell and myself alive. Darian can handle them.


    Constance ignores his brother’s question; his attention is on me. “It would have been easier if you’d just handed over the Aegis from the start.”


    With the last word, he dashes forward, slashing the Scimitar toward us. I brace for impact, but his blade doesn’t make contact. Instead, a wave of red magic strikes us, shoving me back into the wall.


    The Aegis growls in frustration. It is the ultimate defense. It should never be rebuffed! I should use it to its full potential. I should give it blood so it can do a Blood Ward. Then we will make quick work of them!


    My stomach lurches at the suggestion, summoning nightmarish memories. Its bloody whips burrowed into my arm, forcing me to lose my mind and attack everyone around me. No. I can’t.


    Instead, I focus on Constance, trying to buy myself time as my mind spins a mile a minute. “If you were trying to take care of me somewhere secluded, you had plenty of opportunities to do that when I was back in camp.”


    The red magic that had burst from the Scimitar has now retreated to swirl around Constance’s hand and wrap up his arm. It almost looks like a chain, gripping him tight.


    “Easier said than done with Quell following you around like a lost pup,” Constance remarks.


    “Then why let me come?” Quell demands, staggering to his feet. He leans against the wall, maimed hand still tucked against his chest. “Why invite Liz?” Even as he asks, his face falls. “Because you didn’t get rid of us the first time. Because we escaped the Umbral Blades.”


    Constance smiles, his eyes still on me. “He always was a quick study.”


    He slashes toward us again, and I can feel the Scimitar’s hunger through the Aegis. Likewise, the Aegis craves this fight, desires nothing more than to clash and defeat its counterpart.


    At least on this, we can agree.


    I activate another Repel right as Constance’s blow is about to land, then lurch forward to meet him. I don’t feel the blow, but it’s at least enough to deflect the sword’s strike. I follow it up by spinning my arm to the side, ignoring the burn in my shoulder, and crash the shield into Constance’s arm. He stumbles away, bruised, but largely unharmed.


    “Is that all you’re capable of?” Constance asks. “A month spent training with the weapon, and you’re still using it as if it’s a mundane sheet of metal?” He steps back, pausing to cut the Crimson Scimitar across his opposite arm. The chain of magic eagerly snakes its way from one shoulder to the other, spiraling down the free arm to latch around the newly opened wound. The magic deepens as it makes contact with his blood, turning from a bright red glow to a solid, shimmering crimson.


    “Then again,” Constance says, “I’ve had years to learn the full potential of the Scimitar. It’s a pity we won’t be able to savor this fight.”


    “This isn’t you,” Quell says, shaking his head in disbelief. “You’ve always been ambitious, but never at the cost of your family! You’re better than this, Constance.”


    The prince appears unmoved. Veins of blood climb up the Crimson Scimitar like feelers of a plant, then peel off the blade in dozens of thorny vines. The bloody plant completely obscures his hand and forearm, like the magic itself is consuming him.


    “The only way our family can truly be protected is through complete domination,” Constance says. “Absolute victory ensures the perpetual safety of our country. It’s the only way to keep everyone safe.”


    “That doesn’t make any sense!” Quell cries. “You were going to have Moonfall abduct us. Liz is on the floor bleeding out. How is that keeping us safe?”


    Constance narrows his eyes. There’s a moment where something seems to flicker there. Hesitation? Uncertainty? But just as soon as it appears, it vanishes once more. Constance lets out a growl.


    Something about all this is setting off alarms in my mind. I mean, besides the whole attempted kidnapping and murder thing. But Constance’s words are unnervingly familiar, and Quell’s right; his logic isn’t making any sense. Prince Constance might be power hungry, but he doesn’t strike me as irrational.


    Echo, Check, I think, focusing on his sword.


    [Check,] Echo repeats.


    [Weapon: Crimson Scimitar]


    [Durability: 100%]


    [Mana: 50]


    [Blood: 24%]


    [Influence: 73%]


    “Aw shit,” I mutter. “You’re right, Quell. This isn’t like him. It’s the Scimitar.”


    “The sword?” he repeats, baffled.


    “It’s influencing him,” I say. “Like how the Aegis influenced me after it absorbed magic from the Lifespring.”


    “What are you talking about?” Constance snaps. “The Scimitar isn’t influencing me. Ridiculous! I would know it. These choices are my own. This is for the good of the kingdom!”


    Quell looks at his brother sadly. “Nye, are you sure?”


    “Look,” I say. “I don’t know what your brother was like before. What you expect him to be like. But what I can tell you is that right now, it’s in control. And when it’s like that, you don’t even realize it. Everything it says makes complete sense. Your mind bends over backwards to rationalize what it wants. You can’t disagree. Right, Constance?”


    Constance’s face contorts with rage. “No! You’re wrong. It’s not—It helps me!”


    Quell lets out a breath. “You’re right, Nye. Thank the gods.”


    This only makes Constance angrier. With a cry, he leaps at me again, hammering the Scimitar down on top of us.


    Even with Endure in effect, I stumble under his blow. The shield and sword crackle against one another, their Devours fighting for dominance. The Aegis eagerly presses the attack, desperately trying to absorb the Scimitar’s essence. I can almost feel the materials destabilizing where they’ve made contact, caught in an ethereal tug-of-war. I can feel the Scimitar, too, now that it’s so close, now that it’s attempting to consume the Aegis, its vines of blood grabbing at the shield. It’s angry that we’re standing against it. It’s roiling with rage that we haven’t yet been defeated. It desires victory, but more than that, it desires the satisfaction of crushing us.


    Unauthorized duplication: this tale has been taken without consent. Report sightings.


    The Scimitar is so much like the Aegis, in that way. That instinct for conflict and victory. But while the Aegis is obsessed with appearances—with being seen as superior, with people acknowledging its greatness—the Scimitar is all seething malice. It doesn’t want to win because it desires victory, it wants to win because it hates anything that stands against it. It’s cruel. Cold. Quick to latch onto injustice and despise anything it views as the cause. It’s powered by spite.


    No wonder Constance’s sense of duty has become warped. The Scimitar is a mental poison. One that might have been poisoning him for years.


    On the surface of the shield, something gives. Alarm shoots through the Aegis and into me. I jerk back, ripping the shield away from The Scimitar’s grip.


    Constance laughs. “You might stand against us, but you must see that you can’t win. You don’t even know how to use that shield to its full potential. You’re afraid to. But the Scimitar and I have been training together for years.”


    “If that’s true, then how come you haven’t already won?” I counter. “I only learned how to fight a month ago, but I seem to be holding out alright. What’s your excuse?”


    Constance roars, charging at me once more. I skirt to the side, and he follows, consecutive blows hammering down on the Aegis. I angle my retreat, drawing him away from Quell. That had been a gamble. But knowing the Scimitar is driven by hate, it wasn’t hard to give it something to get mad at.


    Unfortunately, I was bluffing about holding out, and Constance might be right.


    My arms are battered from side to side with every strike, steadily going numb under his barrage. Even the Aegis’s impenetrable confidence is wavering. It still doesn’t believe we can lose. But the way the Scimitar seems to be chipping away at its essence is disconcerting.


    Disconcerting is an understatement. I try to unleash another Repel at Constance, but he disperses the magic with a slash of the Scimitar, and the pulse of energy swirls into his blade, which in turn shines even brighter.


    Shit, we’re just making it stronger, I think at the Aegis, not really expecting a reply.


    But it agrees with me: We can’t use energy attacks like Repel. And Endure isn’t working because it’s cutting through our shock-absorption. Devour is being countered by the Scimitar’s Devour, and since it’s stronger, it’s winning.


    Wow. I wasn’t expecting that level of insight from an inanimate object that usually just wants to bash people into submission. But what options does that leave us?


    I realize it even as I ask: Blood.


    Constance presses his attack, forcing me to stumble away. I circle around the room to avoid getting pinned against a wall, but he only seems to be getting stronger with each strike, more single-minded, more relentless. The next attack slams me down to my knees. Fear lurches up into my throat. We’re going to lose.


    With a flash of metal, Darian collides with Constance from behind. He half turns, as if anticipating the attack, but is still sent careening away. I catch my breath as the captain relentlessly rains blow after blow down on top of the prince. He retreats, deflecting each strike with a clash of steel and sparks.


    I grit my teeth, knees burning, as I shove myself back to my feet. Xamireb and Earnest are at Liz’s side; the two soldiers they had been fighting are disposed of. Quell is still backed into a corner, grimacing and bloody; Darian and Constance’s fight dances around the room, edging dangerously close to him.


    She can’t win. Even if she activates her Bloodlust, Darian’s not strong enough to beat the Scimitar. It will eat through her sword before much longer. But I don’t know that I’ll fare much better. Desperately needing the moment of reprieve, and with the Role Requirement egging me on, I circle back toward Quell, keeping a nervous eye on Darian’s doomed fight.


    I know a Blood Ward would help us here. Keeping people at bay, providing me an offensive attack, is exactly what it’s for. Add in my Attuned blood, and I would have something solid I could use to counter the Scimitar. Maybe even an edge.


    But just the idea makes my chest squeeze with fear, and images of the fight with the Moonfall soldiers flash through my head. The bloodbath. So much death and suffering. Everyone in this room would be in danger. What if the Aegis tried to attack Liz, or Darian, or Quell?


    The Aegis is offended. It knows who to attack and who not to! It is a shield, after all. It was built to protect! Sometimes killing one person is protecting another, but it wouldn’t kill if it served no purpose. When has it ever done that?


    The words surprise me. Is that true? Has it really never attacked anyone except in self-defense? I try to think back. It killed people when we first freed Quell. And when we freed Liz from her captors, it had attacked people—but Quell had been in danger in that fight, too. It’s attacked Darian plenty of times while we were sparing, but only because it was defending me. In fact, the only time it ever proactively tried to kill anyone was when I was struggling with my Sanity Stat. And even then, when it was influencing me during my Bloodlust in the Oasis, we attacked the Moonfall soldiers to buy time for everyone else to flee.


    You were the one that caused that fight, I think. We wouldn’t have been in danger if you hadn’t drawn the attention of the guards.


    The Crimson Aegis is a bit miffed at this accusation. Of course it would draw attention! It is so powerful and great, after all!


    But there’s an undercurrent of doubt there. It hadn’t been entirely in its right mind. The Lifespring had been affecting it; warping and magnifying its desire for recognition.


    And I can almost, almost, detect a hint of regret and fear. It doesn’t understand what it did wrong. But it knows it’s made me upset with it. It doesn’t want people to hate it. It wants to be worshiped! To be praised and loved. The worst thing that could ever happen to it would be for it to be forgotten, discarded, left behind. The bands of magic tighten around my arm.


    I try to remain angry with it. I try to find holes in its reasoning. A time where it had attacked someone not out of a desire to protect me or Quell, but just because it wanted to hurt someone—and I come up with nothing. The Aegis is right. The only unnecessary bloodshed that occurred was done by me, when I was in a Bloodlust.


    And even sending me into a Bloodlust in the Oasis hadn’t been intentional, I now realize. The Aegis thought it was helping me. I said I was worried about losing too much blood, so it gave me more.


    The Crimson Aegis isn’t intentionally malicious, it’s just overly simplistic. It’s been trying to prove its worthiness to me, and instead of directing its pride into something constructive, I’ve been pushing it away—the very fate it fears the most. The realization is a punch to the gut.


    I’ve spent this whole time trying to deny the situation I’m in instead of figuring out how to make the best of it. I tried to distance myself from Quell because I was bitter about my Role—but none of this was his fault. I’ve been seeking a way to break the bond with the Aegis—but I chose to make that pact. Instead of trying to understand the shield, I’ve been shoving it out of sight and out of mind anytime it’s a mild inconvenience.


    Even the Bloodlust I’ve been trying to prevent instead of learning how to control.


    I need to stop swimming against the current and start using it to my advantage. I can’t change the circumstances I’ve been dropped into. But maybe I can make some of them work in my favor.


    Sorry for letting you down, I think. How about we win this fight together?


    The Crimson Aegis buzzes with renewed excitement. Yes! It would like that very much.


    Finally looping back to Quell, I wedge the shield against the two walls, using the Aegis to keep an eye on Constance while I seal the two of us off in the corner. I quickly turn to Quell. His face is worried, tear streaked, smudged with grime. But it’s intense and calculating, too, intently watching the fight unfold. His gaze shifts to me.


    “He’s going to win,” he says. His voice is tight, but not shaking. I don’t think he’s afraid for himself, but rather his siblings and friends. Even bleeding and betrayed, he’s thinking about others first. It makes me want to laugh and shake my head. A warm fondness blooms in my chest.


    “Yes,” I say. “If I don’t beat him with the Aegis.”


    “Can you?” he asks.


    “I think I can.”


    Several emotions play over Quell’s face at once. “Please don’t kill him,” he says. “I know what he’s done is awful. But he’s still my brother. And if this sword really is to blame, then he’s just another victim.”


    “I’ll try,” I promise. But I don’t want to lie to him. “I’m not sure if I can beat Constance without killing him. But I’ll try.”


    Quell’s face is pained, but he nods anyway. “Okay. Thank you.” Then he adds, “And you’re not allowed to die, either.”


    Now I do laugh. “I’ll take that into consideration.”


    He smiles briefly, but it dies just as quick. “I mean it, Nye. Please be careful. If something happened, I couldn’t…”


    “I know.” I hold out my hand, gesturing for his wounded hand. Hesitantly, he holds it out.


    It trembles in my own, caked in blood. The smell lures me in, but I concentrate on the sight, not the smell, and am quickly rewarded with Echo’s confirmation.


    [Healing spell activated.]


    I focus the magic beneath the skin, on the tendons and muscles that were damaged. Quell lets out a relieved breath, and his hand stops shaking.


    I don’t heal it entirely, however. There’s still a bit of blood seeping from the wound.


    I look up at him, still holding his hand. A similar scene between Darian and Liz suddenly comes to mind, and I quirk an ironic smile. “My Prince.”


    “Oh, uh.” Quell stumbles over his words, caught off guard. “My Knight?”


    I huff out a laugh, then bow my head to kiss his hand.


    When I pull back, I can sense the warmth of the blush spreading over his face.


    I turn away, licking my lips, and shoulder the Aegis out of its wedge.


    [Bloodlust activated.]