Rigged from the Start

Chapter 74

The Queen's Gambit

We did not dare venture right into Gra. That would be suicide. Just by observing the city from a distance, I could tell a lot had changed from when Severa and I were last here.

The Grimleal had cracked down hard. Gangrel's banners were not draped from the walls, because he was dead. The Raad's banner also did not flap in the gentle breeze that swept along the savannah-crusted cliffs. Instead, I saw a crest that made my heart sink. Beside me, as we stayed low to the ground, hiding among the tall grass, I heard Cordelia's breath hitch.

The six red eyes of Grima were emblazoned on the walls, the sigil resting on a field of black and purple. Gold trim ran along the borders of each banner. This city did not belong to the crown, or the Raad family anymore. It belonged to the Grimleal.

Gra was Grima's.

"This is bad," Severa whispered, her eyes narrowed as she studied the walls. "I've counted at least half a dozen mages just on the walls."

I flicked my gaze to the walls and towers of Gra. Severa was not wrong. Every other guard wore the Grimleal's robes. There were a few normal city guards, armed with pikes and wearing traditional mail, but they were nearly outnumbered by the mages infecting the city. My gaze then drifted to the city gate, where I saw a sight grotesque enough to make my stomach flip.

At least a dozen heads sat on pikes over the city gate, all of them preserved with magic so everyone entering the city could see exactly who they were. Of all the heads, I recognized one, and my gaze fell.

Lord Raad's head sat on a pike. Carefully, I glanced towards Tharja. She did not react. Her face was as impassive as ever. Not a hint of emotion came from her. It was as if the sight of her father's head did not perturb her in the slightest. That did little to calm my nerves about her joining this mission.

"Well then," Henry snickered. "Lot's of baddies to kill, hm?"

"Please never say that again," Virion sighed. "If you're anxious to kill Grimleal, at least say it with a little gravitas."

Cordelia gulped. "We're not getting in there anytime soon."

"We're not," I nodded in agreement. I turned to Severa. "Cliffs or savannah?"

"Hm?" Severa thought for a moment before puffing out a breath and turning to the one person among us who knew Mustafa best. "Henry?"

I did not hear Henry snicker in reply, which set me on edge right away. Henry always found everything amusing. Even simple questions about someone's location set something off in that insane brain of his. Yet, there he stood near Tharja, icy gaze focused on Gra, and Grima's banner flapping the breeze from the walls.

"Savannah," He replied, voice disturbingly quiet. "The caves are too well mapped anymore."

"Well, great," Severa threw a hand up in exasperation. "So, we've got the entire horizon to comb through now. Fantastic."

I pursed my lips. The Plegian savannah was vast. Not as enormous as the desert that sprawled over the northern end of the country, but still large enough to make searching for Mustafa an impossible task. Finding him would not be like finding a needle in a haystack either. That would imply that searching through the hay was safe. It'd be more like finding some hay in a needlestack, given that if we are caught in Plegia we would be captured, imprisoned, and likely killed. Not to mention we'd kickstart a continuation of the last war, only this time Gangrel isn't in charge of the enemy forces; Grima is.

That's very reassuring.

My lips thinned and I sighed. I glanced at the others. A mixture of frustration and defeat lingered on the faces of my friends. Severa was annoyed, with her brow furrowed, lips curled into a scowl, and arms folded over her chest. Henry was quiet, which told me he was quite pissed. Virion frowned as he remained silent while Cordelia bowed her head and sighed beside Aurora. Tharja glowered at Gra, her hands clenching her spellbook tight.

Where would Mustafa go that he knew was safe? I had no idea. My eyes landed on Tharja again.

An idea hit me. It was probably a very bad idea, but I couldn't think of anything else. If I could not think of where Mustafa would go, then I would have to go to someone who might know where he went. Other than Grima himself, and Validar (who currently had a bad case of death), one other person had their fingers on the pulse of Plegia.

"Tharja, would your mother be in town this time of year?"

Tharja didn't register my question at first. She stared at Gra, jaw tight and eyes burning with anger. Then, my words sank in, and her entire body sagged. The color drained from her face.

"The… the estate is not far from the city, along the cliffs," Tharja muttered. "I'm not sure if Mother is there, but it is secluded, and it could serve as a decent base of operations for us."

"You don't appear enthused about going there," Virion noted.

Tharja closed her eyes, a low breath slipping from her lips. "Just follow me and keep quiet about it."

Cordelia reached out and grabbed Tharja's shoulder. I nearly choked when I saw the look of pure murder that entered Tharja's dark eyes. But, Cordelia either did not notice or did not care, because she spoke anyway. "And if we aren't quiet? What if we need information about what-"

"Any traps or wards around the estate will be voided by my presence," Tharja wrenched her shoulder free from Cordelia's hand. "Stay on the ground though. A Pegasi flying in this area is very much out of the ordinary."

Her black cape swept the ground behind her as she marched further west, taking us on a path that skirted around Gra's outskirts and led towards the sheer cliffs that ran along Plegia's southern coast. As we walked, Severa leaned in close to me.

"Lady Raad?" She hissed, keeping her voice low so the others could not hear. Although, Bill turned his beak in our direction. I had a feeling Henry knew what we were talking about already. "Are you nuts?"

"You ask that every time I come up with a plan."

"Of course I do." Severa rolled her eyes. "Somehow they work out, even if it's barely. But, Lady Raad-"

"Saved my life, with Tharja's help."

"That was due to a debt, Sam. A debt that's been paid in full, as far as I'm concerned," Severa interrupted. "I'd rather not put my life in her's or Tharja's hands."

Bill cawed and ruffled his feathers. Henry didn't look back at us, but I still could not shake the feeling that we were being listened to, despite our low tones and how we trailed back from the rest of the group. Both Severa and I glared at the crow. The crow tilted its head then swung its beak back to the west.

"Henry's listening."

"Yup, he is. Little shit." Severa puffed out a long breath. "I trust you, Sam. I just hope that our trust in Lady Raad isn't misplaced."

"Oh, I don't trust her at all," I replied. "But I don't see any other options for us at the moment."

"And if we are captured?"

I shrugged. "Then we better pray we make a big enough mess for Mustafa to notice."

Severa arched an eyebrow. "You are completely expecting us to be captured."

"Yes."

Severa scoffed and shook her head. "Gawds, you just… sometimes, Samuel."

I chuckled at her disbelief. "Look at the bright side. This way, we get to see Tharja have to deal with her mother." I nodded up ahead. Tharja still looked pale from fear. "From that look, I'd say it's gonna be quite entertaining."

"Oh wonderful, a good show before I'm captured then tortured."

"Only the best experiences for you, Sev."

Severa whipped her eyes to mine. I couldn't help but grin. Her scowl twitched a little as a smirk threatened to wipe it away. She was trying so hard to stay mad.

"If we don't make it out of this, I'm gonna make sure you wind up in your own tent for a while."

My mouth fell open as she marched ahead, choosing to walk alongside Henry, of all people. Probably because he was the furthest away from Cordelia in our little troop.

"Last I check, you've been the one coming to my tent!" I called ahead.

Severa whirled around. "I'll stay in my own then!"

"Ah," Virion drew in a deep breath. "Lover's quarrels. Truly, a hallmark of two people passionately-"

Severa and I said the same thing at once.

"Fuck off, Ruffles!"

I wasn't sure what to expect from the Raad family estate. Back home, in Wisconsin, an estate was a pretty fancy, large place. It typically meant someone had a house that was way too big, on a lot that was bigger than several football fields. If they really had money, then it would also have neatly trimmed hedges managed by a team of lawn care workers hired specifically for that purpose. I worked on plenty of such yards back home during the summertime. Better income and less interaction with people than the wintertime sales for Yardboys.

However, the Raad estate was more like an old-school plantation than an estate. Enormous fields stretched out for miles through the savanna, almost all of them grapes. In the distance, within the fields, I saw a building that I assumed was some sort of distillery. Now I knew how the Raad's became wealthy, beyond being masters at political gamesmanship and inheriting much of their wealth from previous generations.

We did not linger very long in the fields. Tharja quickly guided us through small paths weaving through the grapevines, trellises, and other expensive crops. We darted from one row to the next, avoiding any "workers" (as Tharja referred to them), as we made our way towards cliffs overlooking the Southern Sea.

Standing on the edge of the cliffs, looking out over an angry ocean, was an enormous compound. Tall walls made of carefully placed stone blocks loomed over the vineyard. Beyond those walls stood one of the largest houses I had ever seen, including some of the gargantuan homes I saw on HGTV back home in Appleton.

It was three stories tall, already an impressive feat for medieval construction. The main house itself dominated most of the structure, while two wings flanked it. The wings were smaller in height, only two stories, but were no less impressive. Each building was made of wood, which showed how wealthy the Raads were. Wood was a precious resource in desert ravaged Plegia.

Virion whistled low beside me as we all pressed ourselves against the walls behind Tharja, waiting for her to move forward.

"Cedar," Virion's gaze darted along the house again. "Imported from Valm?"

"Valentian Cedar, admire at your peril," Tharja warned, giving Virion a warning glare over her shoulder.

I bobbed my head. Yes, a very rich family. I couldn't even fathom that much wealth.

Tharja glanced around the corner of the walls again, spying on the lone gateway into the compound. I crept behind her and peeked as well.

Two guards stood rigid, flanking the archway into the compound. Both were armed with steel pikes. Furthermore, they wore mage robes with armor. But, what stood out to me the most, was the lack of a Raad family crest anywhere on their attire. That missing detail made me arch an eyebrow.

"Your people?" I asked Tharja.

Tharja shook her head. "They'd be wearing the family colors if they were. Those are Grimleal colors."

I shrugged behind her. "Is your mother now the high priestess?"

That made Tharja scoff. "Mother is shrewd, but she's made too many enemies, and she doesn't even realize it sometimes. Why do you think my father's head is on a pike over Gra. Someone is moving against my family, and they are doing an effective job neutering us."

"Us?"

Tharja's gaze darkened. "Them," She corrected.

Her jaw tightened as she grabbed her spellbook from her robes, cracked it open, and began muttering an incantation. Behind me; Virion, Cordelia, and Severa all stiffened. I spotted Cordelia subtly reach for her sword, keeping her lance strapped to her back. She did not look comfortable on foot like this. Most of her anxiety was probably due to leaving Aurora behind, where we last camped. A Pegasus isn't the stealthiest of animals, after all. But, I also got the feeling that she was ready to act against Tharja at a moment's notice. Frankly, given what I knew about Tharja, I didn't blame her.

Henry snickered, making me shiver. "Oh, a sleep spell. You're being merciful, Tharja."

"I'm not merciful," Tharja finished her incantation.

A faint, purple mist flowed from her spellbook, crawled along the ground, then shot up into the faces of the guards. Both guards gasped, wiped at their faces, then slumped to the ground, sound asleep.

Tharja closed her spellbook with a loud clap. "I am practical."

"Dead guards means unwanted attention," I nodded.

"And they aren't my family's soldiers so that attention would be even worse," Tharja pointed out as she strode out from our spot along the wall. She glanced to the top of the walls, a frown resting on her lips. "Virion, keep an arrow at the ready in case I miss one. Henry-"

"I'm ready to slaughter when you say the word," Henry grinned.

Tharja gave Henry a withering look. "Tell Bill to keep a lookout."

Henry didn't have to say a word. He stroked Bill's head once, and the bird took off, soaring to the sky then finding a perch on the compound's roof, among a whole other group of blackbirds.

"Oh look at that, Bill found a murder," Henry beamed, face alight with pride.

Cordelia sighed. "You have to say it like that?"

"He's not wrong," Severa shrugged as she moved past Cordelia and got into position behind me. "Ready to move in."

I pursed my lips then returned my attention to Tharja. With a small nod, I signaled we were ready. Tharja kept her spellbook cracked open, one finger slipping between the pages, ready to flick them to whatever spell she might need. Then, she crept into the compound, with me and the others trailing close behind her.

We did not enter through the main door. That would be, to use Tharja's words, suicidal. The Raad residence in Gra was not like the one in Doluna. This was a private residence, only opened to the public on the rare occasion the Raad's decided to entertain a ball within the compound's ornate ballroom. No doubt the main door had some sort of hex on it which would allow only servants and people invited in.

We reached a side door, a small little cedar one embedded a couple of feet below the ground. Through a small window in the door, I saw a low, skinny hallway running beneath the main house. A servant's passage, from the looks of things. I moved to pick the lock only for Tharja to snatch my wrist.

"Hexes," She warned.

My eyes widened. "Here?"

"Especially here. I thought you were a thief. Where would you break-in?"

My lips thinned. "Fair point. Stand back?"

"And get caught?" Tharja gave me a skeptical look. "If we all die here, then we all die."

"That's reassuring," Severa grumbled.

Henry cackled near the rear. "Will it be bloody?"

"No," Tharja hummed as a faint, indigo glow illuminated her fingertips. "But it will be excruciating if I don't get this right. So, all of you, shut up."

She closed her eyes and concentrated harder. Seconds later, a faint, indigo glow outlined the door. Various symbols and runes I could not decipher flashed over the wood, then they winked away. Tharja uttered a ragged gasp as her eyes opened. A dark glare formed on her face.

Carefully, Henry leaned towards her. "I think you got it?"

"Mother… you've become paranoid," Tharja snarled. Then, she marched up to the door and shoved it open. "Follow me. Do not stray, or you may wind up dead."

If that came from Henry, I would not have taken it seriously. But, coming from Tharja, I knew that was a deadly warning. Undoing the hex on the servant's door left the dark mage and ex-Grimleal winded, which made me more than a little anxious. What other traps lay within the halls of the mansion, and would Tharja be able to deal with them? Judging by how carefully she delved through the servants' quarters beneath the main mansion, I guessed even Tharja was wondering the same thing.

It did not take long for us to navigate what turned out to be a mostly empty servants' residence. All of the workers must be either out in the vineyard or working on their duties around the mansion. But, what caught my attention in the halls beneath the main floor was the lack of guards. You'd think, with how paranoid Lady Raad has become, she would have eyes always on her servants.

But, the first time we saw another pair of guards was when we moved up a small flight of stairs and into the main house. A guard was standing watch at the top of the stairs. Tharja easily disposed of him, flicking her wrists and sending him into a deep slumber. Virion caught him before he could fall to the ground, preventing his clanking armor from raising any alarm. After propping him up against the wall, the archer nodded.

Looks like this isn't the first time Virion has done something like this.

I flicked my eyes around the hall we had entered. It was as grand as any palace I had seen, except for the Exalt's. A gold and indigo rug ran the length of the hall, passing between cedar pillars that lead up to a double staircase. At the top of the staircase stood a set of double doors, closed and no doubt hexed to oblivion. That was the direction Tharja was moving, and I already felt a pit entering my gut.

"Main residence?" I asked as I tiptoed after her to the top of the stairs. Virion had drawn his bow and brought up the rear with Severa while Cordelia and Henry remained in the center, ever vigilant.

Tharja nodded.

I grimaced. "Are you sure-"

"Any information mother has on the rebellion will be in her personal residence," Tharja hissed, giving me a sharp glare that silenced me. "We must get there, and this is the only way in."

"There are windows?" Severa remarked.

Tharja scoffed as she flicked through her spellbook while standing in front of the doors. "The glass is hexed to be unbreakable and, for the most part, spell proof. Mother has always been paranoid, even if she puts on a rather confident facade." Tharja's eyes narrowed the doors. "Stand back."

She didn't give me time to even step back. Right as I opened my mouth to ask why I needed to get back, Tharja snarled and shot her hand forward. Both doors flew open, hitting the walls hard and swinging halfway closed again. Splinters shot through the air, shattering from the bronze hinges as they groaned due to strain. I winced from the noise, but Tharja strode forward, unconcerned.

I remained still as Henry eagerly chased after her. Virion and Cordelia moved in next, proceeding with great caution. Severa paused alongside me, her eyes wide and her head shaking in disbelief.

"What was she thinking?" She asked.

I shrugged. "Out of patience?"

"How could she be-" I glanced at Severa as she trailed off. A smirk quivered on my lips. She pointed a finger at me. "Don't."

"Are you about to ask how she could be so impatient while breaking and entering?"

"Not another word."

Severa marched past me. I snickered and brought up the rear, making sure to glance behind me every so often. Still, other than the one guard, we ran into no one. No soldiers stopped us. No Grimleal accosted us. There was nothing except for the lavish rug softening our steps, the cedar beams and pillars keeping the ceiling up, and the occasional piece of expensive furniture with fancy knick-knacks. Several vases looked like they wouldn't be out of place in somewhere like feudal Japan. Which meant they were probably from Chon'sin.

That couldn't have been cheap.

Tharja finally brought us to a stop at a set of double doors. She didn't break these down like the last set. Instead, she furrowed her brow and frowned. With a cautious hand, she reached out and placed her palm on the wood.

"Nothing?" She breathed, puzzled.

Henry's smile evaporated as he studied the door beside her. "Oh… quite nasty."

Cordelia leaned in. "What hex could be so nasty that it makes you frown?"

Henry glanced over his shoulder. "An invitation, of course."

Cordelia blinked, even more confused than Tharja. Virion nodded in understanding though.

"Nobility never leave their private residences unguarded. For someone of Lady Raad's position to do so is-"

"Beyond concerning," Tharja hummed. "Either she already knows we're here and lifted the protections herself, or she's expecting a visitor and is being prepared for them."

Cordelia and Severa furrowed their brows, still puzzled. I shared their confusion but chose to be more focused on our rear. I couldn't help but feel a slight chill crawling up and down my spine. It felt familiar, but I couldn't place my finger on what was causing it.

"So, she's waiting for someone," Severa shrugged.

Tharja glanced at Severa. "Mother waits for no one. They wait for her."

A lump formed in my throat. There is only one person I could think of that would make Lady Raad wait for them. My hands trembled at my sides as I pictured his scarlet gaze, his amused sneer, and his mocking laughter. Cold sweat built on my brow when I heard his voice slithering through my mind again. A slight wince flickered on my face as something scratched in my ear, causing me to pick at it.

A hand touching my shoulder almost made me jump out of my boots.

"Sam?" Severa gave me a concerned look. "You spaced out there. Are you-"

"Tharja, we need to make this quick," I warned, not giving Severa a chance to finish. I did, however, give her a terrified look. One she understood right away.

Severa paled. "You think he's coming here?"

I nodded.

"Who?" Virion asked.

My mouth was dry when I said his name. "Grima."

Tharja froze at the door. She didn't need any further prompting. She grasped the door hands, pale fingers curling around them, then shoved the heavy doors open. They groaned on their hinges, the sound cutting through the air and making me wince. If anyone on the other side didn't know we were here before, they did now.

We walked down a narrow corridor for a minute. The corridor abruptly ended, widening into a spacious study. A fireplace sat in the wall to the left, with no fire burning in it. Bookshelves covered every other inch of the walls. Scrolls, books, tomes, and papers haphazardly littered the shelves. A large desk sat near a window on the far wall from the door. The purple curtains framing the window allowed bright sunlight to filter in from the savannah outside. The chair was turned away from us, looking out the window.

Tharja took one tentative step inside before a hand with blank fingernails raised from the chair, forcing her to freeze.

"I told you not to return until I called."

I blinked. Lady Raad did not sound like herself. She sounded tired… haggard even. I glanced around the study again, surprised by how disorganized it was. Maps and notes were strewn across every surface, some even covering the floor. Candle wax had built up in little spires on tabletops, beneath candelabras covered in the stuff. Empty inkwells were in every nook and cranny, and more than a few pages of paper had hasty scribbles on them.

Something's very wrong here.

Tharja bowed her head, her dark bangs shielding her eyes as she paid reverence to her mother.

"I'm here because I was ordered to."

A scoff came from the chair. The hand fell to the armrest. "A Raad taking orders from House Ylisse. Our ancestors are cursing us from their graves." A croaking sound, almost like a weak laugh, came from Lady Raad. "Gods, how did it all come to this?"

Tharja raised her head, confusion and faint worry etched on her face. Although, I wasn't sure if she was worried about her mother, or worried about the dangerous circumstances we found ourselves in.

"Tharja, are you alone?"

Tharja's throat bobbed. "I am not."

Slowly, the chair turned. What had been fear sitting within me turned to horror when Lady Raad turned all the way around. The once regal woman had been rendered nothing more than a haggard shell. Wrinkles gouged her face where once there had been none. She did not sit tall in her seat, but slouched, hunched, and decrepit. Her midnight hair was completely gray. Part of me wondered if she had used a spell to maintain a youthful appearance when we first met.

But, what truly horrified me were her eyes. They were gone. Gouged out and left as open, unseeing sockets.

Tharja turned white.

"Your friends are quiet. I must commend them."

"M-mother?" Tharja's lips trembled.

Lady Raad raised a hand. "Be silent," She hissed. "There is little time. Time…" Her head titled forward, chin tucking to her chest. "Yes, time… low on time. Grima is alive, Tharja. He lives. Our Lord lives."

Cordelia and Virion's eyes widened. Beside Tharja, Henry's face fell to a deep scowl. Tharja swallowed hard then replaced her emotionless mask, setting her jaw tight to keep her voice from quivering.

"Is he? Mother, we lived in the shadow of his bones-"

"He lives! I have spoken to him." Spittle flew from Lady Raad's mouth. "He… showed me things. Even when he took my eyes, he let me see." A mad, croaking laugh slipped from the old hag's lips. "There is no resisting him, Tharja. There are only two choices. Join him, or suffer." Lady Raad trembled in her seat. "I… I thought I could… but then he- and- damn the Fell God! Damn him!" She shot up from her seat, eyeless face somehow giving us burning glares. "Tharja, his servant is about to arrive. You must leave. Flee back to Ylisse while you can."

"Mother," Tharja's measured tone replied. "We came seeking Mustafa."

"A fool's errand! Don't you see?" Lady Raad growled. "Civil War means nothing to our Lord. Lives? They are a statistic, nothing more. I almost have to admire his shrewd callousness." Any strength Lady Raad's shivering bones had evaporated, forcing her to fall into her seat again. "Leave… now."

"Mother, General Mustafa is-"

"You will not find him," Lady Raad croaked. "He does not wish to be found. Mustafa will find you if that is what he wishes." She sniffed. A snarl cracked her lips. "How a low-born, magicless fool like him outlasted us is beyond me."

I bristled a little at that. Mustafa was the furthest thing from a fool. Lady Raad probably knew that, but she was stewing in her misery. I should feel pity for her, but I also had a feeling that if I did, she'd attempt to hex me to death. The Raad's were a proud family, even in defeat.

"Very well then," Tharja glanced around the room. "Henry, has Bill-"

"Nothing yet," Henry said, voice low and dangerous. "But that doesn't mean we are in the clear. I'll gather what notes seem relevant."

"Do so." Tharja nodded.

"You cannot win," Lady Raad's head fell back against her chair. "He is too powerful, and he is not even at full strength. He-" She stopped and leaned forward in her seat, head craning unnaturally as her eyeless gaze shifted towards Severa. "A fell blood is here." Tharja's eyes widened as Lady Raad cackled. "No wonder my Lord's servant hasn't barged in yet. He's waiting."

My heart stopped in my chest. Severa paled beside me. Cordelia, Virion, Herny, and Tharja's gazes all shot towards her, making her shrink a little beside me. I did not miss the slight twitch in Cordelia's hand as she kept it against her sword's grip.

"For what?" Tharja pressed. "Henry hurry up!" She whipped her gaze back to Lady Raad and stepped forward. "What do you mean, mother?"

Lady Raad's wrinkled, cracked lips parted into a mad grin. "Instruction, of course. Our minds are not our own, Tharja. Grima is everything now." She leaned back, exhausted, but still able to smile at us. "Here he comes now."

A sharp chill shot over me. Every hair on my body stood on end. A deep hiss reverberated through the air, making my ears sting and my heart race with fear. That chill I felt earlier, the familiar one, I knew what was causing it now. Specifically, I knew who was causing it.

Heavy, armored boots hammered against the floor in the hall behind us, each step echoing off the walls. A massive sword slid against a sheath, the shrill sound mixing with harsh breathing; if I could even call whatever noise a Deadlord makes while not talking breathing. Heavy armor clanked through the hall behind us.

Slowly, I turned. A stone dropped in my gut when I saw the hulking mass of black armor marching towards us, greatsword in hand.

Vykrik.

A quiet, mad cackle emanated from Lady Raad.

"I knew you were here, and so he knew," She uttered a wheeze. "As soon as you stepped foot in the vineyard, I knew. Maybe this way, Lord Grima will let me see once again. Maybe this way, our family will survive."

Tharja took a step back as she stared at the Deadlord, too stunned to know what to do. Severa and I moved to the front of our group, our weapons drawn and jaws clenched as we braced ourselves. Virion's bow shuddered over my shoulder as he had it at full draw, arrow trained on the monster. Finally, Cordelia and Henry stood closest to Lady Raad, with Cordelia having drawn her blade and Henry not moving an inch.

"What is this?" Tharja gulped.

I swallowed hard. "Somehow a worse outcome than the worst-case scenario."

"The worst-case scenario being us getting captured," Severa mentioned.

Henry gulped. "He's a bid dead guy, huh?"

"A big Risen, wonderful," Virion grimaced.

"Oh, he's more than that," I muttered.

Vykrik paused in his march a few feet down the hall. Even at this distance, he was a behemoth, standing easily two heads taller than me. His dark helmet held no emotion, no visage. Just two chasms of shadows for eyes and a faceplate that betrayed not a hint of expression. His gauntlets tightened around the grip of his blade when he glowered at me and Severa.

"Resistance is futile." Vykrik's voice cracked like ice, making my ears ache. The scratching returned, making me wince. I shook my head as my grip on my kukri tightened. His dark gaze fell on me and Severa. "My master wants you two alive."

I swallowed hard as I struggled to remain calm. This was the first deadlord I ever encountered. The messenger that delivered us news of Lucina's capture in the future, the deadlord that slew Lon'qu and nearly killed the rest of the party sent to steal Sable. Grima's attack dog was here.

How to get out of this one?

"He wants us, huh?" I gulped. "Well, people in hell want ice water, but we all don't get what we want, right?"

"Sam, ideas?" Severa hissed as we all backed up a step. The Deadlord began his slow march towards us again.

I wasn't given the chance to come up with one. A flash of purple energy shot by my head. Superheated air rippled across my vision. Vykrik's march ground to a sudden halt when the spell smashed against his breastplate. To my shock, the steel bent.

"I care not if he is dead or alive!" Tharja snarled, her eyes blazing with fury. Smoke drifted from her fingertips. "I shall make him bleed!"

I blinked. So that's where Noire gets it from.

Another superheated spell launched from Tharja's fingers. This time, instead of taking the brunt of the spell, Vykrik raised his sword and slashed at it. The spell exploded around the blade, enveloping his hulking form in indigo smoke so dense it looked like a solid wall.

"Now we run!" Henry chirped.

I spun and dashed at Lady Raad's desk. Without thinking twice, I hopped onto it and propelled myself out of the window behind the madwoman. Glass shattered, shards flew through the air, and my gut lurched to my throat as I went into free fall. A few short screams trailed behind me, one of them being Severa as she jumped out the window after me.

The fall was short, and the impact with the ground sharp. But, after all this time working with the Shepherds, I've gotten used to jumping out of windows. I landed on my feet, shifted my momentum, and ducked into a roll. Within seconds, I was back to my feet, breaking into a full sprint towards the Raad estate exit.

The exit was just ahead. It should have been an easy sprint. But, when a deadlord is involved, nothing is easy.

A shadow flew over my head. I flicked my eyes up and skidded to a stop, jaw hanging open, as I watched Vykrik leap from the broken window all the way to the exit. He landed with a loud thud, dust kicking up from his boots, tattered cape flapping in a faint breeze drifting in from the nearby cliffs.

Then, he charged, barreling toward me like an enraged bull. His greatsword hissed through the air towards my neck. With a strangled cry, I bent backward. My eyes bugged from my skull as I watched the tip of Vykrik's massive blade pass mere centimeters from my throat.

I fell backward into Virion. Severa dashed past me and Virion, swinging her sword to parry a savage follow through from Vykrik that would have cleaved both of us in two. I watched her arms shudder as she blocked the enormous swing of his blade. Severa then slid her sword down his. Sparks spat from the steel as she slipped in close and yanked a dagger from her belt.

A harsh snarl shot from Vykrik when Severa's dagger bit into his side, right at the armpit. The deadlord moved to backhand her, only for his hand to be shot nearly off of his limb by another savage spell. Tharja uttered an enraged shriek as she unloaded on the deadlord, not even caring that me, Virion, and Severa were in the line of fire.

Every spell I could think of shot by me, grazing my body with heat and electricity that made my hair stand on end. Dark spells I did not know the names of hammered against Vykrik next, staggering him enough to allow Severa to backpedal away.

I was about to ask Tharja for another way out, but one look at her told me she would not hear. She was completely engrossed in destroying Vykrik, attempting to obliterate him with her magic. But, she was breathing hard. Almost all the color had drained from her face already. Her fingers trembled around the binding of her spellbook. She had pushed herself too far.

She snarled again and launched another black spell at Vyrkrik, managing to bring the behemoth to one knee. That was all she had left. Tharja's knees knocked. Before she could crumble to the ground, Henry hooked his arms under her shoulders. Still, she kept her grip on her spellbook.

That's when the rest of the Grimleal guards joined the fray.

Spellfire screamed towards us. Virion's bow sang. And the rest of us ran towards the section of the estate walls closest to the cliffs.

My mind raced. Where could we go? Vykrik blocked the only exit. We couldn't outlast an entire garrison of dark mages and a deadlord. Tharja may have staggered Vykrik, but that would have managed to just piss him off, not injure him. Besides, you can't exactly hurt what is already dead.

We needed a small break. A little way out that could-

Henry yelled, heaving Tharja over one shoulder before throwing one of the most powerful fire spells I had ever seen at the wall in front of us.

The spell slammed into the walls. Stone exploded all around me. Shrapnel soared through the air, cutting against my cheeks, arms, and hands. The screams of several Grimleal being thrown to their deaths down the cliffs by the explosion hit my ears.

"Over the edge!" I heard Henry cry.

"Are you mad!?" Cordelia bellowed.

"If I wasn't this wouldn't work!"

I didn't question it. Severa and Virion did not either. Henry and Tharja were the first to leap through the gap in the walls and over the sheer, dark cliffs facing the ocean. Virion held his breath as he leaped next. Cordelia hesitated for a split second, but Severa intervened, shoving her over the edge. I skidded to a stop on the edge and dared to take a glance over my shoulder.

Vykrik surged towards us. He'd be on us in seconds.

My eyes darted down. Sharp rocks jutted up from the foamy sea. Waves hammered those rocks. If we didn't land in the exact right spot, the ocean and rocks would crush us.

I looked at Severa, who made the same calculations I had.

They were better odds than the deadlord.

Silently, I took her hand. She nodded once. Then we jumped.

For several terrifying seconds, we were in freefall. A scream tore from my lips right as my feet kissed the top of a large wave. Ice cold water slammed into me. Foam and salt shot through my nose and mouth. My hand slipped from Severa's as the waves rolled me underwater. Through the disorienting foam, murky water, and rolling waves, I noticed I was moving towards the cliffs; caught in a current that was dragging me towards a dark cavern burrowed into the rock beneath the waterline.

I tried to fight the water, but all of my strength managed to only make me exhausted as the current swept me into the darkness. Panic seized my heart. My lungs were burning. Dark rings formed on the edges of my vision as I frantically searched for any way up.

But which way was up? Was I upside down? Right side up? Sideways? Was there even an up or down anymore? My world was filled with dark water and shadows.

I couldn't hold my breath anymore. My brain forced my mouth open. Water surged in. My eyes bulged from my skull as it all rushed into my lungs. I clawed at the seawater around me, desperately seeking some way out with what precious seconds I had left.

Right as my vision was about to go dark, and my struggle was about to end, a hand grasped my wrist from somewhere. The cold water shot past my head. Musty air hit me next, surging into my lungs and forcing the water that had rushed into me out.

The strong hand that grabbed me tossed me onto sharp, slick rocks. I flopped onto my stomach, water spilling from my lips as I coughed and heaved. Every limb burned, my lungs were on fire, and spots filled my vision. But, at least the scratching had stopped enough for me to make out a deep voice that rumbled beside me. Others coughing and heaving mixed with the voice, but I could make out that deep, fatherly, disapproving tone anywhere.

"Even for you, Samwise Baggins, that was a stupid move."

I blinked water from my eyes and glanced up. That's when the smallest of smiles cracked over my lips.

"Oh… hey Mustafa."

And chapter! Things have gone south right out the gate, huh? Vykrik is on the prowl, and he has a pair of targets now. But, our heroes have found Mustafa. It'll be interesting to see where things go from here. Anyways, let me know what you all think of this chapter! As always, I hope you all enjoyed it! Have a nice day!

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