Outside the ballroom, Galvin waited with all the servants from both sides. He leaned against the wall, his eyes closed, ear poised at the hint of discussion. All that came was the muffled voices of those two speaking through a thick door. Lord Seldam, or whoever was in charge of the architecture, built the palace with sound protection in mind. A smart idea as it would prevent snoopers, but not the best with their situation. A shame that the only sapphire the caravan carried lie with Morwin.

  “How do you think the proceedings are going?” Mr. Axwel, his voice low enough that only he could hear. Galvin could tell from the look on his face he was as nervous as Morwin, if not more.

  One of Seldam’s servants let out a laugh. “If you believe the lord of this town will just allow the king’s puppets to lay siege, then you’ve got another thing coming,” he said.

  Glass shattering came from the other side of the door, its volume piercing the veils of these muffled walls.

  Galvin exchanged glances with everyone in the hallway and rushed to the door. “Morwin?!” he shouted. No answer.

  “Something has happened,” another of Lord Seldam’s servants said. “We have to go help them!” Galvin slammed his shoulder against the door, putting all of his bodyweight into it, but to no avail. Something on the other side was blocking it.

  Mr. Axwel stepped up and tried using the handle, but the door was sealed shut. A rumbling permeated through the walls and the ceiling, bits of pebbles raining on them.

  Galvin turned to Lord Seldam’s group of servants. “Is there any other way to get into that room?” he demanded, to which they all shook their heads.

  “This door is the only entrance to the ballroom. A safety issue,” one of the servants explained.

  “Well your safety precaution is working against us, right now!” Galvin shouted at them. “You guys stay here and make sure no one leaves that room, I’m going to go and call the guards!”

  “Be careful,” Mr. Axwel said.

  Galvin nodded. “Morwin is going to be just fine,” he assured the older man with a softer voice before unsheathing his dagger and running for the main entrance.

  Morwin’s and Lord Seldam’s heads jerked up. Figures in black cloaks leapt, falling in tandem with the shattered glass. Morwin shielded his eyes, some shards slicing his skin as they fell.

  A figure in a familiar mask landed in front of him, the table breaking his fall. The wood gave way under their weight. Morwin’s eyes grew wide as he had to relive memories of a terrible night a decade ago.

  His one worry and his worst fear came true. Justicar arrived. And judging from the fire behind this man’s eyes, Morwin was not going to make it out alive.

  “Get behind me!” Seldam’s voice boomed. He closed the space between that one member of Justicar and Morwin. Behind the rebel, two other stood. One held an oaken bow with an arrow drawn while the other a pair of twin daggers. Lord Seldam had his own, held in a tight reverse grip.

  Morwin didn’t know why this man was defending him when just a moment ago, he was spouting hatred towards the king. Morwin did not question it. Morwin accepted the man’s help without hesitation.

  He reached to his side to unsheathe his own weapon, but found air instead. Damnit Galvin! He took the only method of defense he had. The Justicar member with the bow loosed a couple arrows, landing in front of Morwin as he was about to take a step.

  Lord Seldam leapt, his dagger pointed outwards. The bulky man which stood before him sidestepped. The weight of Seldam’s swing caused him to lose balance.

  A knee to the stomach and a cry of pain, then the sound of a metal blade bouncing against marble.

  Lord Seldam reeled over, coughing and sputtering, trying to recover from the blow. So the lord of this town was rubbish in a battle after all. It was to be expected with how his soldiers allowed themselves to be overrun by Justicar.

  Morwin sidestepped the arrow and lunged for the dagger, scooping it up and raising it just in time as the buff rebel struck.

  Strange. This man did not have a weapon but as Morwin’s strike came into contact with his fist, Morwin’s own weapon flew from his hand. A blow landed on his stomach and his vision darkened for a moment.

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  “Bastard,” Morwin grumbled before pushing himself off.

  “Darius!” the Justicar with twin daggers exclaimed. “Instructions were not to harm him!”

  The man, Darius, shrugged. “What’s the point if I can’t have a little fun, huh?”

  While they conversed, Morwin launched himself at the brute, putting all of his body weight into this strike.

  He wasn’t strong. He wasn’t athletic. He knew that. But if there was one thing Morwin had that none of the other people in this room had, it was the intense burning hatred for their kind.

  Memories of ash and fire resurfaced. Smoke burning in the horizon, with the sun casting a deathly orange glow. People screaming. People dying. All of it came back to him and he used his rage to propel himself further.

  Darius caught him and swung him up.

  “Darius, no!”

  The sound of a crack resounded as Morwin was slammed against one of the tables, breaking the foundation. He let out a cry of pain as his entire body came alight with expected pain.

  “What? I thought we hated people like him,” Darius shrugged.

  “But not him specifically,” the man with the bow spoke.

  A terrifying shadow was casted over Morwin, as this monster of a man peered down with hateful eyes. Morwin could tell behind that devilish mask that he was smiling, that he was enjoying this. That was what they were. Monsters that returned to torment the people of Agnius.

  Morwin’s hands balled into a fist.

  Darius noticed and raised his own, prepared to meet the challenge. A challenge Morwin had no hope of winning.

  Where was Seldam in all this? He stole a glance to where the lord was, and saw him still reeled over, recovering from the blow. Some lord he was.

  “Stop!” the woman protected Morwin, hands outstretched standing between Morwin and Darius.

  Morwin took the opportunity to get away. He spun and dashed for the man with the bow. He had an arrow notched at his heart, but did not fire for some reason. Morwin tackled him, shoving weapon away from his face and using all his might to pin the man down.

  He was not as strong as Darius and went down easily. As the two fell, a bottle slipped out of the man’s coat pocket, shattering on contact.

  “Well there goes my bottle,” the man said. “You owe me another.”

  A quick strike that Morwin did not see coming made contact. Stars flashed in his vision for a moment before he was picked up by something from behind.

  “You weren’t even supposed to have that,” the woman spoke. “Honestly, it feels like I’m with a group of idiots.”

  “A group of idiots that recently liberated a gem mine,” the man spoke, standing and dusting himself off.

  Morwin thrashed and kicked around, screaming. The others ignored him.

  “My father will come and gut the lot of you when he finds out how you’re treating me!” he resorted to using his family name. Deep down, Morwin knew he could not win this fight with his strength or skill alone, and that realization hurt him. “He will find you and burn down every one of you. He will not stop until the last remnants of Justicar is wiped out from the face of Agnius. He will-!”

  A hand clasped his mouth. He struggled against it, even biting at one point. But it was like biting into a brick. Where was his necklace? At the end of his life, he wanted to feel the comfort it always gave him. His short and miserable life, which barely amounted to anything. What a fool he’d been to think he could march into Jovin City while rebels were running amok and claim the city as his own. How foolish to think he could do anything other than be a pathetic worm of an heir to his father.

  Lord Seldam struck from behind, pulling Morwin from his thoughts. He did not attack the one holding him. He aimed for someone who had weapons, someone he could dismantle.

  With one swift set of strikes, the female member of Justicar gave Seldam’s tuxedo a gift of red before sidestepping and knocking the man down with a kick.

  “Come on, let’s go,” Darius said, holding a screaming and thrashing Morwin.

  “It might be a little easier of he’s unconscious,” the woman spoke, sheathing her daggers back. Morwin stole a glance at Lord Seldam. He was incapacitated, more so than before, and he would not be rising to help anytime soon.

  Let me go! Morwin tried to scream, but all that came was his muffled voice through Darius’s hands.

  “Okay, yeah it’ll be a lot easier if he’s knocked out,” the woman said. Morwin did not see the strike coming before everything faded to black.