The night air was cold, swirling around Daimona in an unrelenting embrace. She shivered, pulling her uniform jacket tighter around her sides.

  On the other side of the wall she could hear the distant sound of a lively gathering. Irina’s unyielding tone was smothered by Leka’s boasts, and Rik’s smooth commentary was bleeding into Norok’s snarky jabs.

  People sound the same, she thought. Like the cawing of birds and the howls of dogs, they blended together into a cacophony she couldn't understand.

  The incident with Zia earlier in the day had Daimona making a mental list; ‘Food’ and ‘Not Food’. Norok was her brother, her conscience and her companion. He was the only one who understood the life they led and why. Deeming him ‘Not Food,’ was an easy choice. Irina was another easy choice. She was strong. That alone meant she deserved to live. Kell wasn't strong by any means, but he had grown on Daimona, and despite Will’s annoying, arrogant nature, she had decided both of them were good enough to keep around.

  But all night long, she had watched Zia. Frode sang to her at the top of his lungs, until Rik had reached over and clamped his hand over Frode’s mouth. Bash sat next to her, smiling shakily as she applauded their success. There wasn't a single moment where Zia was left unattended. She was loved, from the top of her white stagnant face to the bottom of her bandaged feet.

  If Will hadn't shown up, most of Zia would be flushed down a toilet by now. That much was undeniably true. Daimona's stomach wouldn't be growling, her monstrous appetite carving out a grand, black pit inside of her. She'd be full for once. But what about Zia's squadmates? What would they be doing right now if Zia had died?

  Daimona's thoughts spiraled. Visions of the rival team all lunging towards her, tear-stained faces and screams of rage flooding her mind. The bloodbath that followed only seemed to make her feel hollow.

  She startled at the sound of the large door being pushed open behind her. Whipping around, she expected to see her brother, but standing in the doorway was Will. He shut the door behind him before revealing a white plate of precariously stacked breads.

  “You've been gone for a while. Didn't want you to miss out on these before curfew,” he said. He slunk to the ground, sitting up against the black stone wall. He patted the empty space next to him. Slowly, she trudged over, plopping down and snatching the plate, taking one of the miniature loaves from the top. She sank her teeth into it ravenously, the bread airy and sweet in her mouth.

  Daimona swallowed, grabbing another. She eyed Will, pausing before taking another bite. “Kinda thought you'd be sulking right now.”

  Will shrugged, tilting his head up to the sky with a soft frown. “I'm disappointed for sure. But only because we showed real grit today, and both Pultz and Judith didn't recognize that.”

  “Story of your life,” Daimona snorted, reaching for her third loaf.

  “What’re you talking about?”

  “Every time you ask for something, you get told no,” Daimona said. “Cowell, the lady in Halltown, Pultz, Judith. Everywhere we go, there's always someone who thinks you're nothing. It's pretty sad.”

  Will didn't reply. Instead, he took a deep breath through his nose, releasing it slowly.

  “Honestly,” Daimona said, licking her fingers as she finished the plate. “I'm surprised you haven't given up yet. Why haven't you given up yet?”

  He thought for a moment. Then, quietly he answered, “I've just never thought about it.”

  “You've never thought about quitting before? Not even when I punched you the first time we met?” Daimona punched the air in demonstration, and Will chuckled softly.

  “No, not even then. It makes sense, I guess-- I mean, you're right. I've never had the respect of the higher ups. Hell, I can't even get Irina and Kell to call me captain half the time.”

  Daimona nodded vigorously.

  “But I know my worth,” Will continued, firmly placing a hand against his chest. He clutched at the pocket, fingering at the sword emblem stitched into his uniform. “And one day, everyone who doubted me will know it too.”

  Daimona's eyes widened. For the first time, she could see the determination in his gaze, feel the raw intent behind his words. Will wasn't just an inconvenience-- now, he was interesting.

  This story originates from Royal Road. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.

  She lurched forward, grabbing his hands and squeezing them tightly. “You should take what you want, then!”

  He tried to pull away from her, clearly in shock from her sudden enthusiasm, but Daimona refused to let him go.

  “You don't need permission from anyone, Will,” she added. “If Bash wants to play dirty, we'll bring out the mud. We'll destroy them, and we'll shove those medals in everyone's faces when we do.”

  “Come on, Daimona, that's a little much--”

  “Aren't you hungry, Will?” Her voice sounded low, almost foreign to her tongue. It was almost as if someone else were asking entirely. “Aren't you hungry for gold?”

  Will’s eyes reflected Daimona's. The sharp blue was completely overtaken by a bright red, almost glowing under the moonlight.

  “I am,” he said firmly.

  “Good!” Daimona chirped, finally releasing her grip on his hands. Will blinked, pushing up his glasses to rub his eyes. “Cause I have an idea.”

  “Is it going to get us disqualified?” Will asked skeptically.

  “Only if we're caught!”

  “Fair enough. What have you got?”

  …

  Later, Daimona crawled up the outside of one of the connecting towers, prying herself up brick by brick. Will clung to her back, jaw clenched tightly.

  “This is stupid,” he muttered through gritted teeth.

  “Shh!! We're almost there!”

  Near the top of the tower was a circular window, with a steel rim. She readied herself over the top of it, then slammed it with her foot before pulling her body up again. A light illuminated the room, and a figure came stumbling to the window.

  Yawning, Leka pushed the window outwards. She looked left and right before leaning down. “I think it was just a bird or something,” she hollered back.

  “You're going to leave the window cracked,” Daimona whispered her demand. “The breeze feels nice tonight.”

  Leka nodded, dazed and unaware of Daimona's magic as it crept into her ears. Dreamily, Leka said, “I think I'm gonna leave the window cracked. The breeze feels nice tonight.”

  She left the windowsill, snuffing out the light. After Daimona heard the sound of the cot creaking, she waited a few minutes for the room to settle. Then, she whispered, “Now.”

  A small flash of silver appeared to her right. Will quickly snapped his hand into the small portal, pulling out an equally tiny handgun. He yelped, frantically regaining his hold on her. Nervously, he whispered back, “Okay. Ready?”

  “Ready.”

  Daimona used her foot to pry open the window. She lowered them in slowly, allowing Will ample room to get down. The sound of his boots hitting the floor were soft, but not soft enough to avoid waking Bash. She sat up with a groan, rubbing at her bleary eyes.

  “Hwhaaa…?” She murmured, squinting at the figures in the dark. Without a moment of hesitation, Will fired a silver shot off. The bullet was bright, embedding itself in Bash’s forehead and disappearing without a trace. In an instant, Bash slumped backwards, snoring. He shot at the other two beds, rendering Leka and Zia completely unconscious before they had a chance to wake up and react.

  “Are you sure this will work?” He asked Daimona. Daimona grinned.

  “Oh for sure. I used to do this to Norok all the time. Watch.” She leaned in, pulling up a thick raven lock of Bash's hair to speak directly into her ear. “You're having a terrible dream. It's the worst you've ever had, and it's going to keep you awake all night. You're going to feel terrible all day tomorrow.”

  Bash's face twitched, her nose scrunched up in misery. She began to whimper helplessly in her sleep. Daimona did the same for Leka and Zia, then crept into the hall to do the same for Rik and Frode. Once the deed was done, and all the members of Squad 57 were shifting in agony in their cots, Will and Daimona silently snuck back down through the tower.

  “I still think we should've told them to surrender tomorrow,” Daimona said, but Will shook his head.

  “This will be plenty, I promise,” Will replied lightly, and it was the happiest he had sounded in the time she had known him.

  Just as they were rounding the corner, Pultz emerged from the communal bathroom, steam trailing from his body. He was half naked, with a blue towel tied around his waist and a toothbrush sticking out of his mouth. He pulled it out to frown at Will and Daimona.

  “Why’re you coming from 57’s quarters at this time of night?” He asked disapprovingly.

  “Why're you showering with company?” Will countered, pointing to the ice imp that toddled out of the bathroom after Pultz. It had its own towel, pulling it up and shooting Will an offended look. Pultz stepped out of the way, gesturing down the hall with his toothbrush.

  “Just get out of here,” he gave a defeated huff. “Don't let me catch you again.”

  They sprinted off, quietly laughing to themselves as they raced to their bunks.