Katya moved through the streets quickly and discreetly, managing to avoid the small groups of Terminus members who were seeking her. She ducked out of sight as a group of four sprinted across the street she was on, a few blocks down, and wondered if Vasson had awoken the entire guild to track her down.

He certainly wouldn’t want to broadcast the nature of her sudden exit to the general populace, it was certainly not the kind of thing you’d want being spoken about your guild around town, so she was fairly certain he wouldn’t involve the city guards. With that in mind, though she wasn’t close with any of them, she still didn’t relish the thought of having to cut down any of her guildmates, so she thought it best to keep to the shadows until she could reach her destination.

There was one place she knew that they could not follow her, at least not immediately, but getting there was a whole different story. Still, she had to keep moving.

She was only a few blocks from the plaza when she turned a corner and almost stumbled into a small group wearing the black and gold tabards that marked them as Terminus warriors, but managed to duck back around the corner before they’d realised she was there. She pressed her back to the wall as two of them spun around. Seeing nothing, they turned to one another.

“Did you hear something?” asked a tall man with a silver half-staff and forked beard.

“I thought so,” replied his off-sider, a lean woman with bright red hair.

Katya recognised their voices, but couldn’t remember their names. They were seasoned, though, senior members of the guild, sure to have been deep in preparation for the expedition the following morning when they were summoned to search for her.

“I can’t believe this,” sneered the woman, “we’ve got six hours until we’re supposed to be heading down and we’re hunting a big-noting child who’s run away from home.”

“She’s done more than that,” came the tall man’s reply, “Way I heard it, if we can’t find her we’re not going anywhere tomorrow morning.”

The woman spat on the ground and started to approach the corner, drawing a dagger from her belt and taking careful steps.

“Hey!”

Someone else called to them from off down the street, and the two searchers turned back to the others, spread out along the road.

“Any sign?” the voice enquired.

“Nah,” the man replied, “Nothing down here.”

“Alright,” the voice came back, “Well let’s keep moving, check any inns or taverns that are still open, she’s got to have gone to ground somewhere.”

The bearded man and the lean woman glanced at each other.

“Aye,” chuckled the man, “I could check a tavern. Want to check a tavern?”

“I’m surprised we’re not checking a tavern right now,” the woman replied.

The two hurried off toward the rest of their group, and Katya breathed out a sigh of relief.

Good, she thought, if they’re checking the inns, there’ll be less of them on the streets.

With a quick glance around the corner, she ran across the street and continued along her way.

—

Katya started to relax as she cleared the last abandoned street before her goal. The groups had seemingly vanished, re-targeting their searches elsewhere, and she had a clear run to the plaza that held the entrance to the labyrinth. 

She just had to make it around the next corner and the gates above the entrance would come into view. There were guards posted, but unless Vasson had alerted the entire city she wasn’t expecting any trouble from them. She picked up speed, but only made it a few steps before sliding to a halt.

“Hello, Katya.”

She hadn’t noticed the figure at first, leaning against the closed door of a potion shop in the shadow of an awning.

A young man stepped from the darkness, black and gold Terminus cloak on his back and a set of leather armour, reinforced with panels of silver chainmail, covering him from neck to toe. He was in his early twenties, clean-shaven, hawkish and pointy-featured, with dark brown eyes and a thick mop of curly, brown hair.

“Emir,” she replied, venomous.

He smiled, and she sneered in response.

“I knew you’d be here,” he said, a vaguely amused tone present in his voice, “All I had to do was wait.”

“You came alone?” she asked, glancing behind him.

“Of course,” he offered, “Noone else thinks you’d be foolhardy enough to think that this was a good place to flee to, but we both know just exactly what a fool you are.”

He drew an austere cavalry sabre from the scabbard at his side and pointed it at the leather pouch in her hand.

“Drop it,” came his ultimatum.

Katya smiled, and tucked the pouch into her belt.

“Or what?” she asked, her tone innocent.

By way of response, he swung the sabre left and right, loosening the muscles of his shoulder. He allowed the tip of the blade to drop low in front of him, cradling the handle loosely in his hand.

“Are you sure that’s such a good idea?” Katya offered, “It’s been months since you’ve bested me on the training ground, I wouldn’t want you to get hurt.”

“Training is one thing, girl,” Emir’s tone had an edge to it now, “And the record stands. Two out of three times, I put you on the dirt, and I think you’re overdue. Now, draw that monstrosity.”

Katya reached over her shoulder and pulled her greatsword loose from the scabbard, bringing it down in front of her and pointing it directly at Emir.

“Don’t say anything you can’t take back, Emir.”

Emir looked confident as he brought the tip of his sabre back up, sliding his left foot backwards into an orthodox sword fighter's stance.

“On your guard, Katya,” he said, the traditional duelists welcome on the Terminus grounds.

“On your guard,” she responded.

His feet burst into blue flame as he activated his Quick Step ability, and in what seemed like half a second he was directly in front of Katya, sword held high over his left shoulder. She was ready for this opener though, and rather than retreating, stepped in toward him and brought her greatsword up, turning the flat of the blade to face the diagonal swing of the sabre.

The swords rang as they clashed, and the sabre bounced off the larger weapon. Katya continued to raise the blade, turning it quickly and swinging it in a wild horizontal slash that sent Emir sliding backwards, only able to escape the blow due to the mobility enhancing power of his skill.

He did not pause or back away, instead shooting off the ball of his back foot and lunging the sabre towards Katya’s chest. 

The point of Emir’s sword shone, powerful enough to pierce her armour as he activated his Piercing Thrust ability, but Katya forced the momentum of her swing downward, slamming the tip of the blade into the cobblestones and swung her arm in a backhand motion, pulling herself left and out of the path of the strike, while knocking it aside with the edge of her giant blade.

Emir shot past her, carried by the force of his attack.

Katya was shaken.

“What was that, Emir?!” she asked, accusatorially, “That could have killed me!”

“I told you, girl,” said Emir, turning to face her again, “Training is over. You’ve been excommunicated from Terminus, effective immediately. You stole from the guild, and I’ve been charged with getting back what was taken. I’m not planning to kill you, but if something unfortunate were to happen to you… I think the meister and the city guards would understand.”

Katya’s eyes widened at his callous response, and she brought her blade up again.

“If that’s the way you want it,” she replied, her voice cold, “then, on your guard.”

“On yours!” he half-laughed, and his sabre shimmered, the edge of the blade glowing red as if returned to the forge that created it.

Katya tried to work out what spell or skill he was using. 

Fire Blade? No. Keen Edge? Armour Breaker? Shatter Sword? Something she hadn’t seen before? He was pulling out the stops, and she couldn’t just block and dodge her way through this, not knowing he was willing to cripple or kill her.

Emir threw his left hand up, palm shimmering, and he closed his fist dramatically. Katya cried out as she felt invisible fingers close around her, pulling her arms forcefully against her sides. 

Emir smiled, a predator’s grin, he had her now. He drew back the red edged sabre and -

THWACK!

Emir stopped, allowing the blade to hang at his side.

Behind him, an enormous man in black-tinted armour stood silent with a silver-headed hammer in his hand.

“What in the name of -” Emir mumbled, turning to face the newcomer.

Val looked down at Emir, his face a mixture of righteous anger and disappointment. Though he’d brought the hammer down with vigour on the back of Emir’s head, the invisible mathematics of combat in this world meant he’d basically done little more than tickle the sabre wielding man.

“Who are you?” Emir asked him.

Val didn’t respond.

Emir brought his hand up and touched the back of his head, more out of curiosity than any genuine worry that he was injured.

“Well,” Emir looked at his fingers, but there was no blood to be seen, “If you’re with her, then -”

Emir stopped talking mid-sentence, his face pulling taut into a death’s head grimace. His sabre clattered to the ground and, shortly after, Emir followed it, tumbling sideways with muscles locked in rictus.

Katya’s arms flew outward as Emir’s Phantom Hand dispelled. She looked up at the enormous newcomer. Val looked from Emir’s frozen body to the hammer in his hand.

They stood in silence for a moment.

“What did you do to him?” Katya asked, genuinely concerned, despite Emir’s recent attempts to do her grievous bodily harm.

“Paralysis curse,” Val muttered, matter of fact, noting that one of small white crystal chips embedded in the haft of his hammer had turned black.

A nasty one too, at least from where Katya was standing. Emir’s limbs were contorted and his teeth were gritted, though his eyes darted back and forth from Val to Katya.

“Sorry,” Val said, tucking the hammer back into its belt loop, “I wasn’t sure what was going on, but it looked like you were in trouble.”

“I had it under control,” Katya replied, her tone haughty.

Val eyed her giant sword.

“I’m sure you did,” Val offered, then his eyes widened, “Sorry, I have to…”

Without finishing his sentence, Val turned and hurried back toward the plaza. He came to a sudden stop as he passed the last building and the gate came back into view.

Katya watched him silently curse.

Again she cast her eyes from Val to Emir’s frozen body, his eyes staring daggers at her from within the confines of the curse. She threw Emir a smug smile, shoved her greatsword back into the scabbard, and followed Val toward the labyrinth.

Arriving next to him, she followed his gaze. Two newly arrived guards stood attentive at the gates to the abyss, the horsehair plumes on their helms freshly combed and their armour shining with a recent oiling.

She glanced at Val, whose face was like thunder, taking in again his armour and array of weaponry.

“Are you heading into the labyrinth?” she asked him.

“Not tonight,” he replied, his tone dark.

She looked at him quizzically.

“No guild marks,” he said, simply.

“Oh,” she replied, “Well, if that’s all.”

Val looked over as Katya pulled the stolen pouch from her belt, undid the draw string and revealed the contents. Fifty or so guildmarks of shining opal and steel, the Terminus guild’s entire monthly allocation.

Val gave her a questioning look.

“Well,” she said, pulling two marks from the bag, “Are you coming?”

Val looked up from the bag to her face, then nodded seriously.

“Right,” she held one of the marks out, but held it tight when Val tried to take it, meeting his eyes, “But now we’re even.”

Val nodded, and she let the mark go.