Tutsoi fell to his knees, screaming. He cradled his sister's head in his lap. Blood poured from her nose and mouth like a river. Tutsoi’s chest began to get heavier.

  “No, no, no, no, no!”

  He repeated the phrase to himself over and over, desperately hoping his words would somehow undo what had been done. His guilt flooded over him. What had he done? He had lost both his friend and his sister in one night. He was all alone now. Icy tears welled in his eyes and poured down his cheeks. He stared at his sister's lifeless eyes. She was dead because of him. Lukas was gone because of him. After all that he had done to give himself a good life, an honorable life, he had nothing to show for it.

  “NO!”

  The wooden pole creaked and cracked as Tutsoi hit it over and over with his fists, bloodying them.

  “Dammit! I’m sorry! I’m sorry!!”

  Tutsoi’s cheeks grew raw as he tried to stand. He looked down at his dead sister. He then thought of Lukas, who had been forced from his home for nothing.

  “I’m sorry, Lukas. Gods, I’m sorry…”

  Tutsoi tried to take a step back but fell onto the floor. He began to cough violently until he threw up on the wooden floors. The tears began to freeze, crystallizing on his cheek. Tutsoi crawled back until he bumped into a wall. Lukas was out there. He watched it. He had run like hell; his life had depended on it. Lukas stood there, acting like he was the victim. What right did Tutsoi have over Lukas? His race? How could he have done what he did?

  It was heartless; he felt heartless. He had betrayed a friend for a selfish reason. Even Kylia told him not to do it. The guilt, the grief. It was far too overwhelming. Tutsoi grabbed the knife off the ground, the same one that Nevarii must have used to slit Kylia’s throat, and pressed it against his own. He held it there, shaking. He didn’t want to live anymore.

  He had caused his sister's death and framed Lukas for a crime he never committed. No doubt Keris, his own teacher, was now begging on his hands and knees towards the guards that Lukas was framed. Keris had to know the truth. He was smart; he knew that whoever had attacked Lukas had framed him. And he would soon learn who attacked his step-son.

  The knife pressed into Tutsoi’s throat, blood seeping. Tutsoi just stared at his sister’s corpse. He was a coward. He couldn’t even take his own life, yet he so badly wanted the pain to end. The feelings he felt, the guilt, the grief, he wanted it all to end. Tutsoi dropped the knife to the ground. A dot of blood was all Tutsoi could muster. He didn’t want to truly die. All he wanted was for the pain he felt to leave him forever.

  “I’m sorry, Tutsoi.”

  Tutsoi quickly turned and looked towards the source of the voice: Omna.

  “I did it, Omna. I attacked Lukas. All I wanted to do was save Kylia…”

  Tutsoi coughed himself into tears again, sloping over to the floor. He cried out for Kylia, he cried out for Lukas, and all in vain. Omna rested a hand on Tutsoi’s shoulder.

  “I know.”

  Tutsoi didn’t stop. Nothing that could be said to him could mitigate what he felt in this moment.

  “I know that Lukas will survive. A little cold never got to him, even with his frostbitten body. I suppose one could say he has a natural immunity to the cold.”

  Omna knelt to Tutsoi’s level.

  “But that's not what you want to hear, is it? You want to kill whoever did this, is that right?”

  You might be reading a pirated copy. Look for the official release to support the author.

  Tutsoi looked up. He didn’t answer.

  “Lukas is strong; he’ll survive. We’ll send out search parties for him. Hopefully, we’ll be able to find him soon, as long as he tries to look for us as well. In the meantime, we have our Information Division focusing solely on searching for Nevarii and the creatures' movements. He will be found.”

  Tutsoi sat back up Omna stood up. Tutsoi looked at his sister again, and the grief began to return.

  “Lukas isn’t important anymore, Tutsoi.”

  Tutsoi looked at him as though he had just cursed a god.

  “You’re important right now. We need you to tell us everything you know about this encounter.”

  Tutsoi couldn’t believe what Omna was saying. Was he the important one?

  “How could you say that? I attacked him. I tried to kill him.”

  “And he survived. That's good, but he isn’t our best soldier; you are. And you have information that we need. You’re better than him. I’ll tell you what, Tutsoi. As long as you give us that information, you’ll be let off with no charge.”

  Tutsoi felt he deserved to be executed for what he had done. But still, he gave up everything he knew about Nevarii on the spot. Omna took in everything.

  “Now, Tutsoi, you must do everything in your power to hunt Nevarii down. He’s nothing compared to you. Nothing.”

  Omna laid his hand on Tutsoi’s face, and Tutsoi’s eyes closed instantly. Suddenly, a new goal awakened within him: To kill Nevarii. Nothing else mattered more than his death, his punishment. Lukas was nothing more than a setback.

  Far away, Lukas ran for his life. The cold stung his lungs; his hands began to frost over in pain. He had to get away. Tears ran down his face. Had Tutsoi just betrayed him? How could he? What prompted such an action? Lukas tripped in the snow, falling face-first. He got up slowly. The cold was suffocating, the fog was heavy on his shoulders. Surely Tutsoi had a good reason. He never moved unless he was sure what he was doing was the right thing.

  Though still, Lukas could not really take in what had just happened. His wounds stung in the cold; he had been stabbed, sliced, burned, and hit. He only just managed to escape as they piled on top of him, ready to beat him to death. The snow was piling up as it began to fall from the sky in massive, heavy flakes. Lukas ran.

  Finally, after what felt like hours, he felt he was finally safe. In the distance, he saw a tower. A brick tower, half leaned over, old, yet surely it was warmer than outside. He crawled inside the door and into the tower, looking around. Cobwebs seemed to have taken it over from the inside. Lukas looked around the tower.

  Inside were beds, chests, cupboards, dressers, all covered in layers of dust. Lukas walked over to them and ran his hand along the dust as it flew up. He quickly noticed a fur coat and grabbed it, covering himself in its cold cloth. Soon it began to warm him. He sat, staring at the scenery around him. The stairs went up behind him. The warmth the coat gave brought with it comfort, yet he did not feel it.

  He felt afraid, alone, betrayed, hurting, and more things he could not put names to. He bundled in the blanket, looking around one last time. His thoughts traveled, and he turned back to the stairs behind him. Something desperate within him wanted him to climb the stairs, to see what lay atop them.

  He crawled forward in the warmth of the coat, which was beginning to heat him, and up the stairs. He walked up the stairwell and up to the next floor. In the center of the room was a brick pedestal. And, standing right on the pedestal, was a glowing yellow object, beckoning him to come forward and grasp it.