Piyumi loved her friends. She really did. They’d helped her in ways that 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. Not everyone came 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 prior year, not really. Even before that, she’d felt apathy hanging over her like a cloud, on the verge of engulfing her completely. She had noticed it while having nothing to say when people asked her about life after high-school. It was there in the way she’d felt nothing when informed that her grades weren’t good enough for some of the most sought-after universities. It had been present in the way she’d purposefully neglected to apply to any sort of further education before it was too late. The events from a couple of years ago were just the straw that broke the camel’s back. They were far from being the catalyst.

Piyumi sighed, using the cold smoothness of Morrell’s handlebars beneath her bare fingers to centre herself.

No. Now is not the time to think about that.

Besides, what she was about to do was supposed to bring her closer to getting her life back on track.

“Hah,” she snorted to herself. She coaxed Morrell to a stop in a dark, narrow 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 actually having a life.

“About time you showed up, Perera.”

Piyumi took off her helmet to better see a woman leaning against the wall a few paces away. In the flickering glow of the street lamp, she could make out three identifying details: the woman’s honey-blonde hair, the black ink cascading up and down her crossed arms, and the swirls of acrid smoke rising up from the cigarette 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 her 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 the woman 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 instead to stare blankly at Piyumi as she held out an expectant hand.

Ouch.

“Okay, okay, here’s your precious money,” Piyumi pouted as she took 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 Piyumi’s 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. She appeared hesitant.

“Listen, things have changed a lot since you left.” Mylene’s 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 over 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 her stroll down the alleyway until the shadows had completely engulfed the large crescent moon embroidered on the back of her white coat. Even after almost a decade, Piyumi didn’t know quite what to make of the woman. Mylene was still just as unflinching and immovable as she’d been in her teenage years.

In any case, Piyumi felt grateful as she leafed through the papers in the envelope. Mylene’s mother was on the force, so she 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 that the information she needed on the most notorious gang in the city was freely available on Wikipedia.

But what am I going to 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 the matter was settled, things would surely fall into place—

*Click*

“Turn around.”

Piyumi did as she was told, heart thudding against her chest. Bizarrely enough, the gun being aimed at her face wasn’t the strangest thing about the scene before her. No, that title belonged to the military-style uniform her attacker was wearing.

Piyumi’s eyes travelled down the long, long barrel of the gun to get a better look. The outfit was a stark white ensemble broken up by splashes of teal lining the coat’s lapels and sleeves. Their thigh-high boots were laced with the same teal, and a beautiful swan-shaped brooch was 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 the woman was, Piyumi knew Mylene wouldn’t betray her that way.

“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 widened as she let out a stunned chuckle. “It really is true. That hair… you look so much like Her Majesty.”

Piyumi’s heart stopped, and her cheery demeanour dropped like a ton 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,” Piyumi’s 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, hon. Nothing personal.”

The gun fired.

Piyumi’s squeezed her eyes shut. Her arms flew up instinctively to shield her face from the bullet that… that…

Isn’t coming?

She tentatively opened her eyes and gasped. There, right in front of her, was the bullet, so close that her eyelashes would’ve brushed 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 her 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 savior had long, lacquered hair that was gathered at the bottom in a tight bun. The wind fluttered the cape clipped with a lotus flower brooch around her neck, the fabric a dark red 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. That allowed 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 darted over the redhead’s form.

Piyumi’s mouth fell open and shut several times. 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 protectively in front of Piyumi. She reached behind her and unsheathed the twin swords mounted to her back in a single, deft movement. 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. The bullets whizzed past, missing her completely. Piyumi winced at the harsh clang that rang through the air. Her attacker had raised her gun to block the sword swinging towards her chest in the nick of time, using its lengthy barrel as an effective shield. Then the woman yanked her gun up to toss Hisa’s blade off, but the second blade flying at her throat forced her to jump back. Piyumi could see that motifs were emblazoned on each of the women’s backs—a gold and teal swan on the back of her assailant’s jacket and a silver and bright red lotus flower on the back of Hisa’s cape. As the two opponents clashed, the symbols seemed to be at war with each other.

Piyumi’s attacker tsked at Hisa. “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 just before its barrel came crashing down 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, that Piyumi would’ve thought she was going crazy if the evidence hadn’t been 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. It encased the entire gun in clear, glittering spikes in a matter of seconds. Piyumi’s attacker only had a moment to gape at her now-useless weapon before blurs of crescent silver came whistling towards her chest. She hissed, sounding frustrated. The cold ice was 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 was gratuitous or unnecessary. 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. Her eyes followed the way Hisa weaved her swords to a rhythm that she couldn’t hear. “It’s like she’s dancing.”

No sooner had the words had left her mouth than twin flashes of metal came hurtling up from underneath the gun. The firearm was knocked out of the woman’s grip, and Hisa used the moment to 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 toward her gun, which had landed on the ground somewhere behind Hisa.

Piyumi watched as her attacker’s decision to retreat flashed across 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 then flinched to a stop. A pair of fresh glyphs sprung 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, and Piyumi’s breath caught in her throat. With the fight over, she finally had the chance to see just how stunning Hisa’s eyes were. They were a shade of blue so light that 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.”