Yuromi’s footsteps echoed softly on the deserted cobblestones, a stark contrast the regular bustle of Caso’s streets and avenues. It was uncomfortable to witness first hand just how much this city could change in such a short period of time. The city, once a vibrant tapestry of people from across the starlight sea, now felt like a shell of its former self; an echo of how she too felt. She walked in sandals, dressed in regular clothes she hadn’t worn in years, not since her father’s passing. Her resignation from the Soldiers Guild had been the hardest decision of her life and yet it was also the easiest. It was difficult to explain, how both feelings, opposites, were true. Just as how she both regretted the choice, and yet knew it to be the right path for her. No longer could she be a tool for indiscriminate killing and yet without the guild, she was nothing. It had been her everything, her very self. Her friends, her family, her second home.

Now she drifted like a ship without a rudder in the only direction she could think of; to the only place where she had friends who weren’t associated to the guild. She walked through the empty streets until the buildings became older and narrower, where the rooftops pierce skywards. She crossed the smaller southern canal and stopped in front of the Gaagian homebase within the spires. She needed to talk through her muddled thoughts. She knocked hard against the ornate old wooden door. Silence met her efforts.

“He’s not here,” a soft voice said from behind her. Yuromi turned in surprise to find a familiar face. Kuta, Minoc’s Aginjigaade stood behind her clothed in her usual white robes. Yuromi looked down at her own clothes, feeling embarrassed by her disheveled appearance. “You look good” Kuta said, following Yuromi’s gaze.

Yuromi shrugged, “I didn’t realize you had poor eyesight.”

“I didn’t mean the clothes” Kuta said. “You look less burdened than the last time we spoke.”

Yuromi sighed, “I don’t feel less burdened. Where did they go?” Yuromi asked.

Kuta hesitated for a moment before saying, “I sent Gaba’ké to fetch them. They’ll be back later tonight.” Yuromi detected something unspoken in her words. There was something unspoken in her words and not understanding what it was made Yuromi feel uncomfortable. “Come,” Kuta continued, “I know where we’ll be able to find them.”

“Where to?” Yuromi asked, hesitantly.

“To my apartment” Kuta said. “We can chat while we wait for them to return.”

The journey to Kuta’s apartment was uncomfortable. It wasn’t the silence from their lack of conversation; it was the lack of normality that made the trek uncomfortable. Empty food stalls and boarded up windows filled each street. Shops appeared closed, a reminder of growing scarcities. People were hoarding. Windows were shuttered. Stalls were as vacant as the eyes of the few people still about. The ones they passed didn’t stroll. Only the soldiers loitered outside in the hot sun. It all felt lifeless. The only place with any semblance of a crowd was the neighbourhood fountain, where people were lined up in a tangled maze to stockpile as much water as each family could carry.

Kuta led Yuromi to an unfamiliar neighbourhood. It wasn’t as nice as the one her home was in and despite being newer, it appeared more run down than even the spires. After a while she noticed that the young Aginjigaade was leading her in circles at times. It took another small detour for Yuromi to realize that Kuta was purposefully avoiding the roaming bands of soldiers and those loitering shaded streetcorners. The thought puzzled her.

Then, she came to understood why. Yuromi watched from the corner of her eyes as a pair of soldiers stalked an unsuspecting man as he tried to walk by. Yuromi couldn’t help herself and she stopped to watch. A knot of anger tightened in her stomach as they harassed the stranger. It made her sick to watch as they confiscated several of his items in broad daylight as if they were doing a great service to the city by looting fruit. Their eyes swiveled to Yuromi, watching from a distance and Kuta’s pull was the only thing that kept her from marching over and…. And what? I’m not a soldier anymore. What could I have done?

“Kuta” Yuromi said as they ducked into a narrow alleyway. “What is happening to this city?” Yuromi asked rhetorically. “How did it get so…”

“Bad?” Kuta asked. Yuromi nodded. “It’s always been a bit like this” Kuta said softly, her eyes fixed ahead on the alleyway. “It was just harder to notice amongst the good things that have since disappeared.” Yuromi thought on that. She had trouble accepting Kuta’s words as true. “You’ve never been in places like this before, have you?” Kuta asked. “Beyond the main avenues, in the forgotten corners? Back here, this is how it’s always been.”

“But you’re not even from here” Yuromi protested, not wanting to believe it.

“My cousins’ family…” Kuta said carefully, “lived around Caso. They’ve been here since well before the fall of the tyrant king. Only some things changed when the Guilds took over.”

The two women stepped out of the alleyway and saw another pair of soldiers loitered ahead, blocking their path. “That’s the apartment” Kuda whispered, pointing to a building next to the two soldiers. “We’ll need to go around” she added, trying to pull Yuromi back into the shadows.

“Nonsense” Yuromi said, “Its too hot today. Let’s just walk past them. What are they going to do? We don’t have anything.”

“No. No. No!” Kuta insisted as Yuromi stepped out into the street. “You don’t understand,” she pleaded, “there is always something they can take.”

Yuromi ignored her friend and continued walking. Kuta scurried up next to her and hissed under her hood, “They might not bother you, but they won’t let me go. Once they see my face, they’ll arrest me.”

“For what?” Yuromi scoffed. Kuta didn’t feel like now was the right time to answer such a heavy question.

The pair of soldiers noticed them at once. “You two,” they, approaching, “Where are you off to in such a hurry? Scurrying around alleyways is not place for fine respectable ladies” They stopped just a few paces ahead, blocking the path. The one soldier leaned casually on a post that held no awning, while the other smiled with a charm that Yuromi could only describe as slimy. “And what are you trying to hide under those hoods of yours? Pretty faces I hope.”

“I am Sergeant Ashill” Yuromi announced in her most commanding voice. She removed her hood, trying to be the diplomat. “What are your names and guild ranks?”

“Ah, so you are.” the slimy man said, eyeing her like a piece of meat. “Look at that scar” he added, gesturing to the other soldier. “And who is this with you, Sergeant?”

Kuta tried to shrink into her cloak, her face still hooded. Yuromi spoke, putting her hand over Kuta’s shoulder. “This is my cousin” Yuromi lied. “We’re headed to my uncle’s.” She gestured across the street to the building ahead.

“Oh, is that so?” the soldier leaning on the post said. He had light brown hair that was straight to his ears and then wavy down to his chin. He had a handsome face, but something in his eyes gave Yuromi a bad feeling. “You see, there’s been a lot of contraband entering this neighbourhood recently,” the man said, his smirk unabashed, “We’ll need to search you to make sure you’re not smuggling anything in.”

“I am a member of the guild” Yuromi countered, astounded. “You’ll do no such thing.”

“Even guild members can be prone to naughty behaviour.”

Yuromi’s skin crawled. “You admit that you know who I am,” Yuromi said, “and yet you speak with such brazen disrespect? I could have you stripped of rank and kicked out of the guild!”

“My word!” the slimy man said, still approaching. He stepped in close enough to make both girls uncomfortable and they retreated backwards towards the alleyway. “Is that so? You going to say something like, ‘do you know who my mummy is?’” he mocked. “Ashill isn’t Patzau anymore. You’ve lost your special privileges. No more free rides to the top for you, Sergeant.” The two men giggled at her rank, as if it were funny. Yuromi soon found out why.

“That’s right,” the wavy-haired man agreed, “there’s a rumour going around that you quit being a soldier like. Something about being all wishy washy about cleaning up the Mudtown scum. And if you’re not a soldier no more, then impersonating one is a serious offence, if I’m not mistaken.”

“I think you’re right about that!” the other man agreed. taunted. Kuta recoiled away, stepping behind Yuromi. The two men continued forward, hemming them in.

Yuromi frowned. “What do you mean Ashill’s not Patzau anymore?”

“Oh, my. Now isn’t that sweet!?” the slimy man said with a grin. He licked his lips. “Didn’t you hear? Patzau Ashill was removed by the council. They’ve got Burm as the new Patzau. Things are changing.”

“I don’t believe you” Yuromi said, taking a defensive stance. They now stood in the mouth of the alleyway, boxed in.

The wavy-haired man snatched his hand forward and pulled away Kuta’s hood to reveal the face within. Both men seemed surprised as Kuta’s long dark hair and features were revealed and three things became apparent to them in that instant. First, the unhooded girl bore zero resemblance to Yuromi, her alleged cousin. Second, the girl revealed wasn’t from Caso, but from one of the mountain tribes. Finally, that Yuromi had lied to them. Their faces soured. The perverse pleasure they were getting out of the exchange evaporated and they reached for their weapons.

The moment Kuta was fearing had arrived. She closed her eyes and focused her agindan on the spirits drawn to the purity of her metal pins. They were always nearby, following. She spread her consciousness out, drawing them in and selecting the appropriate channel for her power. Harm, not kill. Something to escape. Something to protect us. She found the right spirit in mere heartbeats. She channeled, blinking open her eyes.

The slimy man was already sprawled out on the cobbles. Yuromi’s fist had connected with his chin and he lay cold at her feet. The wavy-haired man recoiled at the speed of her blow. He drew on his blade but Kuta was faster. She channeled and expanded the bronze of his weapon outwards, piercing the leather sheath like teeth on a sawblade. Don’t kill, she reminded herself.He pulled, but the blade wouldn’t draw.

Yuromi was on him before he could resist. She slipped past his guard and had her arm around his neck, locking him in a chokehold. He was bigger than her, but she was a fighter. Realizing he couldn’t extradite himself, the man toppled backwards taking Yuromi down with him. They fell to the ground together, the blow knocking the breath from Yuromi’s lungs, but it wasn’t enough. Yuromi refused to release her squeeze on his throat. She held him until he went limp, and then several long seconds after.

Kuta watched, impressed and scared. She wasn’t sure what she would have done alone. Killing them would have been so much easier. That was what terrified her most. “Let’s get out of here” Kuta urged.

Yuromi pulled herself to her feet. “Not yet” Yuromi said, pulling a knife from the slimy man’s belt. She looked around. The odd face had watched the exchange, but none seemed keen on intervening. They averted their eyes at her gaze. “I’m going to take a finger from each of them!” she huffed, anger rolling across her face.

“No” Kuta said.

“This will be the last time these bastards can harass anyone” Yuromi prattled, ignoring Kuta’s dissent. “I’ll cut off their thumbs… cut a branding into their fucking foreheads.”

“No!” Kuta ordered, raising her voice. Yuromi turned in surprise. “We need to leave. Now!”

“It’ll just take a second” Yuromi complained.

“You’re not thinking straight” Kuta said sternly. “What if more soldiers come? What if somebody sees you. What if they wake up? We need to leave while we can.”

Yuromi twirled the small dagger in her hands. She yearned to hurt them. It would be so easy; a lesson to remind them for the rest of their miserable lives. And also, a death wish. They know who I am. I should go further! Ruin their worthless lives like they would have done to mine. But she didn’t. Behind the anger, she knew she couldn’t go through with it. Who was she to distribute vigilante justice? How would this make her any different than them… or any better than a man like Burm?

“Fine” Yuromi relented. “Let’s get to your apartment” she huffed, slipping the soldier’s dagger into her sleeve.

“No longer an option” Kuta said. “You just told them where we were going!”

“No, I didn’t” Yuromi argued. She looked across the street. Thankfully, it was still empty but the longer they stayed over the two unconscious men, the worse things looked.

“You did” Kuta insisted. “You gestured to your ‘uncle’s apartment.’” Yuromi’s face twisted, realizing she had in fact done that. Kuta pulled on Yuromi’s arm and led her back into the alleyway. “We need to go hide else.”

Yuromi scratched at her scar. Where else in this city where we be alone, with nobody around to bother us? The solution came at once. “Alright. I know a place,” Yuromi said, “somewhere nobody will be; somewhere nobody can come looking for us.” She pulled Kuta away from the unconscious soldiers and back towards the city center.

Kuta paused to take in the opulence of the gateway while Yuromi casually pushed her way through a door Kuta hadn’t even noticed. A pair of finely sculpted tree trunks formed the supporting columns of the arched gateway. Their branches reached over the arch and tangled together to form several symbols Kuta was unfamiliar with. The trees and the symbols looked ancient and weathered, older than most of the surrounding tenements. The metal gate was wide enough for a pair of palanquins and through their oxidized bars Kuta could make out a large stone mansion looming ahead. Yuromi used a weathered key to lock the smaller door behind them and led Kuta through rows of ancient looking trees and unattended gardens towards the lonely structure.

“What is this place?” Kuta asked. She paused, looking around. She had never noticed the old gateway before and the wider grounds were obstructed by other buildings that stood between the gardens and the street. She never before seen the lonely mansion or had known this place existed.

“This is the Ashill estate” Yuromi said matter-of-factly.

“You live here?” Kuta ask, gobsmacked. Kuta figured she could fit her entire apartment more than a hundred times in the grounds alone.

“I guess so” Yuromi said, waiting for Kuta to catch up.

Kuta understood on some level that there were mansions in the lusher garden districts in the heart of the city. Patzau Palace, the auction house, and walls along the canals hinted at their private existence. Private soldiers and guards stood erect at their entrances, a visual recommendation to move along. Kuta had even been once to Patzau Minoc’s estate, where he and Mira lived in what she could only have described as fantastical opulence. The size and scale paled in comparison to the Ashill mansion. The privacy, size, and secrecy expressed a degree of wealth and power that Kuta had difficulty imagining. It was old and powerful, like the trees above the gateway. It seemed impossible that a single family lived in this great empty space alone.

Inside, the mansion was eerily silent. A fact made all the cleared by the high vaulted ceilings in each room that made an echo out of every small sound. Kuta had expected the bustle of servants or soldiers, like she had seen at Minoc’s. Instead, they were conspicuously absent. “The servants are gone” Yuromi said, her voice an echo. Kuta wasn’t sure if that was a statement of normality or abnormality. Yuromi led her into a sitting room and asked, “Can I get you anything to eat?”

Kuta nodded and settled into a plush chair while Yuromi disappeared. She looked around the room in awe. There were tapestries and statues. On walls and shelves were items Kuta couldn’t even begin to recognize. Yuromi returned with a basket of foreign looking fruit and cups with water. She used the soldier’s stolen dagger to skillfully skin and slice several, handing each piece to Kuta as if these were regular foods Kuta would have been able to find outside in the markets. She wondered what these strange fruits were and how much they cost. She wondered who had picked them and under what tense.

“The rumor the soldiers mentioned,” Kuta ventured, her voice barely above a murmur. “About you leaving the Guild. Is it true?” Yuromi took another bite of fruit, then nodded. Kuta leaned forward slightly. “Why? Why leave?”

Yuromi sighed softly and pushed her hair back. “I hit a limit. The guild is all I’ve known. It’s been a part of me, of us, since the day my sister and I were born. And I still want to be there. I feel empty without it. I want to contribute and keep people safe. I want to be there for the soldiers in my squad. It hurts, feeling like I’ve abandoned them. But I can’t do it. I’m ashamed of what the guild’s been doing. I’m ashamed of my family’s part in it.”

Kuta ate, letting her silence ask more than words could. The conflict played across Yuromi’s face.

“I just wanted to help people” Yuromi confessed. “I wanted to make a difference.”

“Where did it all go wrong?

“I don’t know…” Yuromi lied. “We went from trying to rid the slums of crime to trying to rid the city of the slums and, along the way, it stopped being about helping people at all.”

“So why quit?” Kuta asked. “Wouldn’t it be better to lead by example? You’re the Patzau’s daughter. Your actions and your decisions hold influence. Show people the right way.”

“It doesn’t work that way” Yuromi countered. She twirled the knife in her hands anxiously. “Kida’s always been the respected one and she’s even more hardcore than mum is. I’m not cut out to the lead anyone or anything.”

“You were a squad sergeant” Kida said quizzically. “You led a patrol squad.”

“That’s different. Supervising a handful of misfits with sharp sticks is nothing akin to real leadership. I’m not cut out of the real stuff” she added. “I’ll just make things worse.” The knife twirled out of her fingers and clattered across the floor. “Besides,” Yuromi continued, “I’ve lost my faith in the guild. That reverence I once held for it when I was just a girl.”

“Why do you think you would make things worse?” Kuta asked.

“Because that’s what I always do” Yuromi said. She picked up the knife and began to twirl it again.

“Give me an example”

“Just before the assassination of Prince Ohacha’s uncle, I was in Mudtown with my squad and we stopped at a restaurant for food and water. Inside, I overheard the owner speaking to some gang members. They were extorting the restaurant for money. They didn’t have any and so the gangsters were threatening them. I acted quickly without thinking and intervened. It cost one of my soldiers their lives.”

“That doesn’t sound like your fault” Kuta said. “You were trying to do some good. It sounds like you did the right thing.”

“I thought I was doing the right thing” Yuromi said through shallow breaths. “I heard that the gangs burned the restaurant to the ground the next night. They killed the old man and strung him up with a sign that read ‘Traitor’.”

“Again, you didn’t do that. It’s not your fault. You were trying to help.”

“Then what if I told you that the guild has known where the gang’s leaders hide for the past eighteen months. That they could have acted long ago and chose not to. That the gangsters they let be were the ones who later killed Aramuk Krimas and tried to kill Patzau Yohati. That I could have done something about this so long ago and saved so many innocent lives. That I chose to stay in line and follow orders.”

“That’s–”

“Exactly!” Yuromi said. “I break the rules and make things worse. I follow the rules and I make things worse. No matter what I do, the choices I make are the wrong ones. I left the auction house to chase a thief and the only thing I managed to accomplish was imprisoning an innocent foreigner amongst a death-camp for a week because I didn’t know what else to do with her. She sat as a witness, starved and neglected, for the bloodiest week in recent history because of my mistake. I see it in her eyes; she loathes me for it. I don’t even blame her.”

“You’re right” Kuta said flatly, “You are being foolish. Foolish for thinking it’s fair to blame yourself for everything that’s happened or not happened. Even more so for happenings outside your control.”

“But had I not–”

“Blame takes away the individuality of others” Kuta said, her eyes empathetic. “Other people have agency. You alone did not lead us here. Those gang members, Yohati, your mother, the council, each individual soldier and citizen. Everyone makes their own choices, acts for their own reasons, and reacts according to their own beliefs.”

“But I was the catalyst” Yuromi insisted. She wanted to cry.

“You think too highly of yourself” Kuta said. “That’s like watching the sun set and claiming it was your fault that night came; because you didn’t stop it. You didn’t do this. No one person did this. And by thinking you did, you disregard the countless choices that led us here. Choices made by more important and more influential people than you and I. We are here because of hundreds of years of history and trade, war and spoliation. There are infinite past moments where one could look back and find fault, but finding them changes nothing. They don’t matter. Not unless the aim is understanding how best to move forward.”

“You’re really smart” Yuromi said, wiping the tears from her eyes. “How do you know so much about everything?”

“I’ve had good teachers” Kuta admitted. “Minoc was only the latest.”

“Do you think he did it?” Yuromi ventured.

“I know he didn’t” Kuta answered. She pursed her lips, realizing perhaps she had said too much but Yuromi didn’t take her words literally.

“Still,” Yuromi continued, “what a fall from grace. Minoc went from revered genius and master strategist to a social pariah amongst the city’s elites. By the end, no one trusted him.”

“They feared him” Kuta said. “You can’t trust a person you fear, even if the fears are unfounded. They feared that he knew their secrets. They feared he would use them. They would have used them in his position. But he wasn’t that type of man; he wasn’t like them.”

“My mother said he had a venomous tongue.”

“That’s ironic,” Kuta said, “those are Yohati’s words.” She fought off an inner agitation. “I’ll be the first to admit that Minoc had a silver-tongue. He could flip your opinion to his own, then leave you feeling like you’ve been outsmarted by agreeing with him.” She paused, thinking about her mentor and where he might be now. Deep in some cold cell, she presumed. “He was very convincing” she said at last. “Sometimes, I think back and wonder if he tricked me into joining the Artisan’s Guild; if we were truly aligned or he just managed to convince me we were. I’m still not sure.”

“I never really knew him” Yuromi admitted. “I sort of just, trusted the rumours.”

Kuta sighed. “I wish you had. I wish more people got to know him the way I did. They’d understand that he was a decent man, once you got past his oddities. He’s a far better man than most of the upper guildsmen in Caso. A far better man than this city deserved.”

Yuromi frowned at that. She wasn’t Kuta had meant the comment as an insult but her words still evoked disapproval. A thought struck Yuromi’s and she asked hastily, “What happened to Patzau Bradel?” Kuta stopped chewing. When she didn’t answer right away, Yuromi continued her thought aloud, “Surely you know something? I imagine his death was rife with rumours and speculations, especially if he was murdered.”

“I can tell you that Bradel was a pathetic bastard” Kuta said. She’d have spit in other company. All that held her back was a fear of Yuromi’s disapproval. Or worse, the gesture being taken as insult.  “I haven’t heard anything other than speculation to suggest he was murdered. No poisons in him. No obvious wounds or injuries. No signs of illness. Seems he just went and dropped dead.” She sipped at her cup of water.

“You didn’t like him?” Yuromi asked. It was more a statement than a question.

“No,” Kuta admitted, “I didn’t. But I didn’t think… I didn’t think things would turn out this way.”

A shattering crash sounded from the room over and both women jumped, startled by the sound. More sounds came from the library. Yuromi rushed into the next room. Kuta followed anxiously at her heels. Kuta had to pause as she entered the unfamiliar space.

The room was large and the ceilings were vaulted. A lavish balcony looked down from the inner wall upon an old and well-preserved tile mosaic floor. The motif was of a tree atop a hill, surrounded by birds and animals found inland. Around the room stood ornate shelves for books. Dozens of books, thick with leather binds and real parchment, filled the library. No cheep wax tablets or cotton paper here. Other novelties filled the other empty spaces. Kuta spotted a crocodile skull, nautilus shells carved with motifs, and foreign looking war masks, shields, and daggers. A big sword hung on the wall, its pommel emblazoned with the largest gemstone Kuta had ever seen.

The grandeur of the room was almost enough to distract from the figure slumped against a wall. A shattered bottle of wine bloomed around her feet. Amber glass shards scattered about the mosaic, running along the cracks like a geometric web. The smell was strong and sweet. Droplets splattered outwards like a murder.

“Mom?” Yuromi said, worried and angry and confused all at once.

Yanata Ashill had her eyes closed. They opened sluggishly as they approached. Yuromi stepped carefully around the shattered glass. “Come to yell at me again?” Yanata slurred, lifting the broken bottle by the neck and pointing it outwards in accusation.

“What?” The word came more as a breath. “Mom it’s me, Yuromi. Have you been drinking?” She asked. Her tone was harsh and laden with disapproval. 

“Yuromi?” Yanata repeated with surprise. Her eyes widened. She waved the bottle neck aimlessly. “Drinking” she repeated. “Yes. I am drinking. I thought you were…” the rest of her sentence slurred unintelligibly. There was dejection in her voice.

Kuta watched as Yanata glanced up at the balcony every so often. “Help me get her up” Yuromi pleaded, addressing Kuta. “And watch your step.” The two women pulled Yanata to her feet and half-carried-half-dragged the old Patzau to the closest chair, avoiding the broken glass. Wine had stained her clothes. Yuromi didn’t seem to care as her mother flopped haphazardly into the fine cushions.

“I am sorry” Patzau Ashill said, as Yuromi heaved her down. Her limbs slumped awkwardly and Kuta helped sit her up straight. “I am so sorry” she repeated, looking now at Kuta. “I’ve been… uh, terrible.” Yanata slurred.

“I thought you quit drinking!” Yuromi accused. She was on the verge of tears herself. Angry ones. “You assured me” she seethed.

“I haven’t… had any in years” Yanata said defensively. “Just… today and…”

“Don’t you dare!” Yuromi seethed, her voice laced with disappointment. “Not after dad. Not after our deal. You promised to stop if I got my shit together. You promised!”

Yanata sighed, thinking slowly. “I broke my promise… for Minoc. He… he needed it. We drank, and then I… let him go.”

“You what?” both women said in unison.

“When the bastards cut me from the council and replaced me with Burm,” She stuck her tongue out in derision at the captain’s name, “I decided I deserved another drink. One for me. I took this bottle–”

“Not that,” Yuromi said, interrupting. “The part about Patzau Minoc.”

“Oh, I let Minoc go. I freed him.” Yanata said, a smile spreading across her face. “One last fuck you to the council. Treacherous jackals.”

“You freed Patzau Minoc?” Kuta repeated eagerly, her eyes lighting up. “Where is he now?”

“I don’t know” Yanata said, trying to sit up and having difficulties. “On a boat. Far away. Have you seen your aunty, Elvi?” Yanata asked, changing the subject. “She hasn’t come to visit.”

Yuromi wasn’t sure whether to feel anxious or impressed. “You released Minoc from prison?”

“Of course!” Yanata said with pride. “He was an arrogant pompous self-important twat… but he wasn’t a traitor. Minoc being free, somewhere out there, will haunt Yohati till the day he dies.” She beamed at that thought. “Best thing I’ve done for this city in years.”

“Do they know you did it?” Kuta asked, concern spreading across her face.

“No, but they’ll figure out it was me” she said dismissively. “That or they’ll pin it on me without investigating at all. I wasn’t careful. It wouldn’t be hard. You… you two shouldn’t be here when they come for me” she added. “I plan on denying it, but…” She started to laugh as what she had said was a joke.

“I can’t believe you would do something so unwise” Yuromi said. She was hurting inside. “Why sacrifice yourself for him! He wouldn’t have done the same for you.”

“Why not run?” Kuta urged.

“Run?” Yanata repeated with a snort. “I don’t think so. You two should run. Especially you, Kuta. The remaining council members despise you. They think you corrupted Minoc. That you used your Aginjigaade powers or your woman’s parts to bend him to his treachery. That you’ve come to destroy us.” She smiled a sad smile. “It’s all bullshit” Yanata continued, reaching for Kuta’s face. “You’re just a girl. Its not fair. So young and innocent. I doubt you could hurt anyone.” Kuta looked away, not wanted to show her shame.

Yanata was too drunk to notice. She looked back to her daughter. “They’ll come for me soon. They’ll want a public execution. I won’t let that happen. But I need you and your sister to leave Caso before then.” She hesitated, her words catching. “I’ve been a lousy mother. You and Kida deserved better. I didn’t handle your father’s death well and I withdrew and I chose anger and self-pity.

“Stop!” Yuromi pleaded. “Don’t apologize like you’re dying. Leave with us.”

“Then you and Kida grew up and I stopped paying attention” Yanata continued. “I retreated into my work and…” she trailed off. “I was a coward. I stopped fighting for what was right and I stopped prioritizing you two. My own girls. I was too busy playing politics… and look where that got us.” She was crying now. And Yuromi was sobbing too, kneeling before her mother. “I just wanted you to know that I’m sorry. That I’ll die with those regrets.”

“No, don’t say that” Yuromi pleaded. “You can leave. Come with me, with us! You don’t get to just die and pretend that it will fix anything!” she yelled.

Yanata laughed. “I’m not like Minoc. I might be an old lady, but I’m a fighter. A warrior! Just like you. Just like your grandparents. I’m not looking to die, Romi. I’m looking for a fight. And you and I both know all to well that you can lose a fight.” She traced Yuromi’s scar with a gentle thumb.

“This is madness” Yuromi argued. “You’re just drunk.”

“Aye, perhaps I’m a bit mad” Yanata conceded. “I hoped on sending Elvi with you two. But- I can’t find her. You’re smart enough girls to manage without her.”

“No!” Yuromi cried. Tears ran down her face. “I’m not leaving you to face this alone.”

Yanata raised her hand and slapped Yuromi across her tear streamed face. The slap was hard, and Kuta recoiled at the savagery of the unexpected blow. Yuromi fell backwards, stunned. Then Yanata leaned forward and kissed the top of Yuromi’s head. She brought her daughter in close, holding her like the most precious thing in the world. “That’s an order, soldier.”

“That fucking hurt!” Yuromi shrieked.

“Good!” Yanata spat back. Yuromi squirmed but her mother’s muscular arms held her in place. “I hope I knocked some sense into your thick skull. Now go get what you need.”

Yuromi did as bidden, leaving in a huff.  Kuta remained behind with the Patzau. “You’re going to fight them drunk?” Kuta asked. Part of her knew not to underestimate the former Patzau, but she couldn’t help but worry for her.  

“Not a chance” Yanata said. “I’ll be sober tomorrow when they come for me. You two need to be long gone by then. Promise me, Kuta. Get yourselves out of Caso tonight or tomorrow morning.”

“You also know, then” Kuta said softly. She met Yanata’s gaze.

Yanata’s eyes perked up, suddenly guileful. “Look at that. Just as crafty as Minoc” she said with a tilt of a smile. “I should have guessed that you would know what’s coming. He chose well with you. Have you heard how they plan to do it?”

“No” Kuta admitted, “Only the whispers that they’ll try tomorrow. Personally, I don’t think they’ll make it past the city’s walls.”

“Nor do I” Yanata said. “But underestimating people has always been the Casoyan way. Regardless, it’s not my problem anymore. Let the fool in charge handle it. I’ve got my own fight ahead.”

“You could warn people” Kuta said. “People will die if they get past the walls. Chaos.”

“As could you” Yanata retorted. “Its not too late for either of us to make that decision.”

Kuta found no words at that. She felt guilt for not feeling guilty.

After Yuromi and Kida slipped away into the night, Yanata sat alone in the dark library. She had long since dismissed the plethora of servants that once filled the grand estate. Now the house remained dark and empty. A new bottle served as her only companion. Her last bottle. It was one pulled deep from within the cellars. It was the only bottle priceless enough to keep despite her promise to Yuromi all those years ago. She peeled away the wax from the top and took a swig from the clear wine within. It wasn’t very good. But it had been a gift, and that made it the best company on this loneliest of nights.

A detached voice spoke from the darkness, “What do you think you’re doing?” It was even and emotionless. Yanata lowered the bottle and squinted. A figure emerged, its face in shadow

“Kida?” Yanata asked, leaning forward. “Is that you?”

“I asked you a question, mother” Kida said, stepping forward. “I see that you’ve taken up drinking again” she added with condescension. “Any other betrayals you’d like to admit to?”

Yanata looked up and even through the fog in her vision, she could see the disgust written across her daughter’s face. “How long have you been home?”

“Long enough” Kida replied.

“Long enough” Yanata repeated. “That was you on the balcony, hm? How much did you hear?”

“Enough.”

“Well, what are you going to do about it?” Yanata goaded. “Come to tell me off again? Or maybe you wanted to gloat a little before you ran off to tattle to Burm or Yohati? I’m sure they’ll give you a find reward for your blind devotion.”

“I just don’t understand what happened to you” Kida said. She stood eerily still. “You were our Patzau. Our general. Head of this family. Now look at you. You’ve destroyed yourself. You’ve destroyed your legacy. You’ve ruined this family and our noble legacy. And for what?”

“To save an innocent life” Yanata said. “I can live with that.”

“But I am the one who has to live with it!” Kida shouted. “I will be the one left picking up the pieces! You’ve destroyed yourself. And with you crumbles everything. You’ve betrayed me just as much as you have this city. It is my future you have tarnished alongside yours!”

“It’s always about you!” Yanata spat. “I spoiled you too much. Put you on a pedestal when your sister was misbehaving and it went to your damned head. You can’t even see how rotten the elitist snobs you call friends are. They care about you only as far as they can use you. They’re leeches! You’re twice as smart as your sister and even she figured that much out.”

“There it is” Kida said, her voice trembling, “It’s always about me versus Yuromi. All our lives you’d pit us against each other. Compare us. But you always favoured her. She comes to you and you apologize like she never did anything wrong. I come and you berate me like I’m still a child.”

“Then don’t act like a fucking child!” Yanata growled. “Until the other night atop the fortress, I hadn’t worried once about you. You were strong, assured, and charismatic… like your father. But your sister, she was like me and that scared me the most. She was impulsive, quick to anger, and long to forgive.”

“What does that have to do with anything?”

“I retreated from both of you. It was wrong. I was supposed to be your mother! It was a coward’s choice. I should have been there for you two. But unlike Yuromi, I let you be because I had faith in your ability to succeed. I thought you were like your father; wise and driven. That like him, you would do good. That night, you made me realize that I mistook your assuredness with virtue. Instead of fears I anticipated, you became something worse than I ever fathomed: heartless and self-centered. All you care about is legacy, status, and wealth. You don’t give a shit about anyone else. You don’t care about the people you swore to serve as a soldier.”

“You’re so fucking arrogant!” Kida roared back, rage plain across her face. “You don’t know a damned thing about me anymore. So don’t try to blame me for your own failings. You ruined yourself and now you have to sit and face judgement for your mistakes. For years, you’ve let your problems eat at your cliffs like a rising tide, eroding the earth beneath your feet. Now your high castle teeters over the abyss, and instead of shoring up the walls, you think toppling it is the solution. I assumed you were oblivious, but it’s worse than that. Now I see that you’re willfully ignorant of the damage you’ve done. You can’t even acknowledge the laws you’ve broken, the rules you’ve bent because you think yourself above them!”

Yanata threw her bottle of wine across the room at Kida. It sailed over Kida’s head as she ducked, crashing loudly against the mosaic floor. “Get out of my house!” She ordered. Her voice was full of gravelly bitterness. “I’ll not sit here and heed the naïve judgements of a child who’s been handed everything in life!” Yanata leaned back in her chair, tears running down her cheeks. “I was a terrible mother” she continued, “but you’ve become a terrible person. One that’s not welcome here any longer. Pack your things and get out!”

Yanata wiped the tears from her eyes. She wasn’t watching as Kida sprung forward. Yanata was forcibly driven back into her chair. The air was forced from her lungs. The suddenness of the attack, and the shock of it didn’t register. And when she gazed up, Kida loomed over her; her knife plunged deep into Yanata’s chest.

Yanata tried to reel against her daughter but her reflexes felt slow. Her arms were already so heavy. Too heavy. Perhaps, she knew it was too late. Perhaps it was an unwillingness to fight back. Yanata sat and stared up at her daughter as the fight drained. Yanata pictured a castle toppling over a cliff. “My girl”, she said. Those were her last words.

Kida cried over her mother, tears streaming down her cheeks, as she died in her arms. Kida spoke through the tears, her voice a broken whisper. “I’m so sorry, mother” she murmured, her voice trembling. Her eyes though, her eyes were resolved. “This was the only way. The only way to fix everything. I loved you, mother.”