Piyumi loved her friends, she really did. They’d helped her in ways she couldn’t even begin to explain, and she’d be the first to admit she was wholly undeserving of their kindness. That didn’t stop her from feeling irritated, however. She didn’t need them to tell her that she was just loafing around with no future in mind. She was already painfully aware of that fact. They merely didn’t understand that not everyone was lucky enough to just know what they wanted to do, to come out of the womb with a purpose ingrained into their very existence. It took all that Piyumi had to even get out of bed some mornings. How could she even begin to think about what was next? The truth of the matter was, she simply didn’t have the energy to care. 

And she couldn’t blame her indifference on the events of the year prior, not really. Even before that, she’d felt apathy hanging over her like a cloud, on the verge of engulfing her completely. She saw it in the way she hadn’t had anything to say when people asked her about life after high-school, in the way she’d felt nothing when she was informed that her grades weren’t good enough for some of the most sought-after universities, in the way she’d purposefully neglected to apply to any sort of further education before it was too late. What had happened a couple of years ago was just the straw that broke the camel’s back. It was far from being the catalyst. 

Piyumi sighed, using the cold smoothness of Morrell’s handlebars beneath her bare fingers to centre herself. No. Now was not the time to think about that. Besides, what she was about to do should bring her closer to getting her life back on track. 

“Hah,” she snorted to herself as she coaxed Morrell to a stop at a narrow, dark alleyway and dismounted from the motorbike. That wasn’t quite right. Her life had been off the rails from the very beginning. This could be a step closer to her actually having a life. 

“About time you showed up, Perera.”  

Piyumi took off her helmet to better see the woman leaning against the wall a few paces away. In the flickering glow of the street lamp nearby, she could make out her honey-blonde hair, the black ink cascading up and down her crossed arms and the swirls of acrid smoke rising up from the cigarette she had pressed to her lips. Perhaps what was most prominent though, was the infamous white trench coat the woman wore over her shoulders like a cape. Piyumi couldn’t help but grin at the sight of it.

“You haven’t changed a lick, Mylene,” she said. “Dare I say, you look better than ever.” 

Mylene Carter hummed noncommittally, taking a long drag of her cigarette as hooded, discerning eyes ran down Piyumi’s form in one fell swoop. “Can’t say the same about you,” she drawled after a beat. “Look at you. Seven years later, and you’re all smiles and giggles. Glad to see that your red hair remains intact, though.” 

Piyumi scratched at her cheek, giving Mylene a sheepish smile. “You bring the goods?” 

Mylene retrieved an envelope from the back pocket of her jeans, only to snatch it away when Piyumi was about to grab it. “Not so fast,” she said flatly. “Give me the money first.” 

“Aw, even after all these years, you still don’t trust me?” 

 Mylene said nothing, opting to stare at Piyumi blankly as she held out an expectant hand. 

Ouch. 

“Okay, okay, here’s your precious money,” Piyumi pouted as she took out a bundle of hundred dollar bills from her purse and slapped them down onto Mylene’s palm. “Five thousand bucks. Be happy, that was like four months worth of- are you seriously counting it?!” 

Ignoring her indignant cries, Mylene nestled her cigarette between her teeth as she flicked through the notes. Seemingly satisfied that she was indeed given the correct amount of money, she moved to offer the envelope to Piyumi once more, but then she suddenly stopped. Hesitant.

“Listen, things have changed a lot since you left.” Her face was still perfectly expressionless but her hazel eyes burned into Piyumi’s dark brown ones. “I’m unaware who the new boss is, but I know they’re ruthless. I’m warning you, this will not end well. They’re not someone you should cross.”

A coy smile played on Piyumi’s lips. “Oh Mylene. You, of all people, should know that their ruthlessness is exactly what has led me to this.” 

Mylene eyed her for a moment longer, before she sighed and finally handed her the envelope. “As expected of the Red Rage.” 

“Huh?” 

“Well, can’t say I didn’t try.” Mylene turned on her heel and held up her hand in a wave. “I’ll see you around, Perera.” 

Piyumi watched Mylene stroll down the alleyway until she had been completely engulfed by the shadows. Even after almost a decade, she didn’t know what to quite make of the woman. Mylene was just as unflinching and immovable now as she’d been in her teenage years. In any case, Piyumi was grateful as she leafed through the papers in the envelope. With her mother on the force, Mylene had access to police documents, which meant that Piyumi had access to those same documents. It wasn’t as if Piyumi could just Google what she wanted to know. She doubted the information she needed on the most notorious gang in the city was freely available on Wikipedia.

But what will you do when this is all over?

She groaned, shaking the unwanted thought from her head as she stuffed the envelope into her coat pocket. The future was a problem for another day. Besides, once this matter was settled, things would surely fall into place-

Click. 

“Turn around.”

Heart thudding against her chest, Piyumi did as she was told. Bizarrely enough, the gun aimed at her face wasn't the strangest thing about the scene before her. That title belonged to the military style uniform her attacker donned. The stark white ensemble was broken up by the splashes of teal that lined the lapels and sleeves of the coat, laced the thigh-high boots and made up the swan-shaped brooch affixed to the breast pocket.

Piyumi relaxed slightly. For an awful moment, she’d thought Mylene had set up an ambush of some sort, but she doubted the gang would send someone in bad cosplay to do her in. Besides, as hard to read as she was, Piyumi knew Mylene wouldn’t betray her like this. 

“You can’t just wave a gun around like it’s a flag at Pride,” she said, keeping her tone light. The thought of bolting to Morrell crossed her mind but the steely look in the gun-wielding woman’s eyes made her discard the idea. “This is Australia, you know.” 

The woman ignored Piyumi’s quip, her amber eyes widening as she let out a stunned chuckle. “It really is true. That hair...you look so much like Her Highness.” 

Piyumi’s heart stopped, and her cheery demeanour dropped like a tonne of lead. Somewhere, in the back of her mind, she was aware that what she was doing stupid. But she didn’t care. Because, suddenly, there was a  ringing in her ears and nothing else mattered. “Are you telling me,” her voice was dangerously low as she glowered at the woman, “that this...is all because of her?” 

The woman seemed to catch herself as seriousness washed over her features again. “Sorry, darling. Nothing personal.” 

The gun fired. Piyumi’s squeezed her eyes shut, arms flying up instinctively to shield her face from the bullet that...that…

Wasn’t coming? 

She tentatively opened her eyes and gasped. There, right in front of her, was the bullet, so close her eyelashes would brush up against it if she blinked. It would have cleaved through her brain if not for the jagged shards of ice jutting out from the ground to capture the tiny projectile just before it reached its target. 

“What the-” 

An arm snaked around Piyumi’s waist to yank her out of the way as the gun fired again and shattered the wall of ice. Piyumi whipped her head over her shoulder. Her saviour had long, lacquered hair that came to a stop in a small bun just below her chest. The wind fluttered the cape clipped around her neck, a dark red thing like the sleek opera gloves that came up to her elbows. The shade was both a contrast and compliment to her asymmetrical black jacket that had a higher hem in the front, allowing the crimson shirt she had tucked into her high-waisted pants to peek through underneath.

“Are you alright, Your Highness?” the mystery woman asked as she stepped away from Piyumi, her cat-like eyes darting over the redhead’s form.

Piyumi’s mouth fell open and shut several times, and when it became evident that she wasn’t capable of forming any words, she gave a stiff nod instead.

“Hisa…” Piyumi’s attacker breathed out, before she regained her composure and fixed the raven-haired rescuer with a glare. “Lieutenant Hisa Hirayuki of the Lotus Guard of Palaedia.” 

Hisa positioned herself in front of Piyumi protectively. She reached behind her and unsheathed the twin swords mounted to her back in a single deft movement. The metal of the curved blades gleamed dangerously in the thin streaks of moonlight creeping into the narrow alleyway. 

“Get back!” Hisa yelled over her shoulder, before kicking off the ground and charging forward. 

Piyumi didn’t need to be told twice. She bolted around the corner of a nearby building and peered over the edge. The gun fired a few more times, but Hisa had darkness on her side as the bullets whizzed past, missing her completely. Piyumi winced at the harsh clang that rang through the air as her attacker raised her gun to block the sword swinging towards her chest in the nick of time. The woman yanked her gun up to toss Hisa’s blade off, but then the second blade flying at her throat forced her to jump back. 

“Tch,” Piyumi’s attacker clicked her tongue. “Fine! If it’s a sword fight you want-” 

The woman took a step back and raised her gun over her head. 

“-then it’s a sword fight you’ll get!” 

Hisa quickly leapt out of the gun’s purview as it came crashing down to where her head had been. Piyumi looked on in horror as her attacker used the opening to aim her weapon at Hisa. 

“Look out-” 

It happened so quickly, so without warning, Piyumi would’ve thought she was going crazy if the evidence wasn’t right before her eyes. Light burst from Hisa’s outstretched fingers and suddenly, a shining cobalt blue circle with an intricate snowflake design at its centre was hovering in front of her hands. The circle — the glyph — washed the entire alleyway with an ethereal glow and gave off a low rumbling hum that almost electrified the surrounding air. And then…

And then. 

A stream of ice, sharp and fast, shot out from the middle of the glyph to encase the entire gun in glittering, clear spikes in a matter of seconds. Piyumi’s attacker only had a moment to gape at her now-useless weapon when blurs of crescent silver came whistling towards her chest. She hissed in frustration, the cold ice no doubt biting into her fingers as she struggled to intercept the continuous blows coming her way with her much heavier gun. Every movement Hisa made, every swing of her sword, was precise and calculated, not a single action gratuitous or unnecessary as they flowed seamlessly from one to the next. It was as if she and her swords were one in the same, as if the blades were simply a part of her body she could bend at will. It was like she was...she was-

“Dancing,” Piyumi said breathlessly as her eyes followed the way Hisa weaved her swords to a rhythm she couldn’t hear. “It’s like she’s dancing.”

No sooner than the words had left her mouth, twin flashes of metal came hurtling up from underneath the gun. The firearm was knocked out of the woman’s grip, and Hisa quickly used the moment to arch her body around and deliver a forceful kick to her opponent’s chest. 

“Oof,” the woman grunted as she staggered back. Hand held to her chest, her eyes flickered towards her gun, which had landed on the ground somewhere behind Hisa. 

Piyumi saw her attacker make the decision to retreat on her face a split-second before the woman actually turned around and began to sprint down the alleyway. Hisa took a step forward as if to pursue, but she suddenly flinched to a stop. New glyphs springing from her palms, a wall of ice, much like the one she’d made to stop the bullet, started to emerge from the ground where she aimed her hands. The glyphs vanished once the ice wall was a good three metres high.

“You’re not going after her?” Piyumi asked, stepping out from her hiding place.

Hisa’s eyes were planted on the icy barrier as if she could see the woman hightailing it away on the other side. “No. No, I am not. There could be others. I have to keep you safe.” 

“Keep me safe from what? What’s going on?” 

Hisa finally turned around. Piyumi’s breath caught in her throat. With the fight over, she now had the chance to see just how stunning Hisa’s eyes were. They were a shade of blue so light, they were almost white. Sharp and glistening, as if they were chiselled out of the very ice she wielded. 

“Queen Piyumi of Palaedia is dead.”