Sarah shook her canteen onto her tongue. Nothing was left. She had filled three of the bottles up out of a stream before setting toward Kaitlyn with earnesty, and it was all gone. She looked around her in vain desperation.

  The March was a grassland, but Sarah was standing in a desert. Ash drifted from the sky like flakes of snow that gathered on the fallen grasses, turned brown by the lack of water. The heat was immense. Sarah knew she should be drenched in sweat, but the moisture would evaporate in an instant.

  She swallowed hard, her parched muscles straining to perform, and continued walking. She could see the origin of that gargantuan pillar of smoke now, and could see the wounds in the earth that were giving it a haunted red glow. Distant crashes and rumbling signalled that Kaitlyn was still at work, reshaping the continent.

  A hot fleck of ash fell on her bare shoulder, and Sarah hissed. She was getting closer. Long ago she had removed her jacket and over shirt. She cut her heavy leather trousers at the knee. She did not know if the cloth would be safer than exposed skin, but grew certain that if she had kept all of these layers, she would have passed out from heat and exhaustion miles ago.

  She pressed on, desperate to reach her friend. So many times she had questioned if it was worth it. They were only together for a few months.

  But then she remembered Kaitlyn lying, unconscious and bloody in the Happfield Chapel. A druid and a paladin that had, just moments ago, been fighting her, were trying to save whatever they could. And Sarah just left her there.

  Her mind elsewhere, Sarah did not notice the ground splinter in front of her. The small gnoll she was crossing shifted angrily and sent her tumbling. She screamed, but the ash and dust caking the inside of her mouth silenced her. When she stopped rolling, she could only wretch.

  Lightheaded, tired, and dehydrated, Sarah slipped into unconsciousness.

  A light breeze startled her awake. The sun was past its noon peak. She had been out for hours. As soon as the breeze passed, a heat that was intense and unbearable fell on her. She nearly blacked out right there, but found the will to remain conscious when she saw a figure approaching.

  Snaps and crashes were all around as the figure took each step. The earth beneath Kaitlyn’s feet strained and burst in her presence, throwing dirt, magma, and steam skyward. Immediately around Sarah, though, the stones remained solid.

  She pushed herself up into a reclined position as the figure approached. Her ability to think and perceive were being warped by the relentless heat and the constant rumbling. As Kaitlyn approached, Sarah sighed. The woman was wearing rags, barely hanging onto her meager frame. She looked as though she had not eaten in weeks.

  “You’re okay,” she said softly.

  “I am,” Kaitlyn replied. There was something in her voice that was more than human. Sarah recoiled when she first heard it, and Kaitlyn scowled.

  “What happened? What is all of this?”

  “This is me. This is what I am supposed to be.”

  “Where are you going?”

  “Wherever I want. Right now? To The Throne. To speak with the people who saw me as a bargaining chip. A way to gain political clout using me as currency.”

  Taken from Royal Road, this narrative should be reported if found on Amazon.

  “Kaitlyn, people are terrified.”

  Kaitlyn looked up at the billowing smoke above her and frowned. “I don’t know any other way to make a point.”

  “What kind of point are you making with all of this?” Sarah asked. Her throat was painfully dry, and every syllable hurt but this conversation was important.

  “That I’m not just a tool, or a toy, or a weapon.” Kaitlyn then swung her head back down to look at Sarah. “Or some princess that needs saving.”

  “What?”

  “What are you doing here, Sarah?”

  “I’m checking on you. As soon as I saw the smoke I… I just knew it was you. I thought you were in trouble.”

  “That’s funny.”

  Sarah could feel tears trying to well up in her eyes, but the oppressive presence of Kaitlyn was evaporating them. One finally gathered enough to fall, and Sarah yelped as it turned to steam on her cheek.

  “You see this and you think I’m in trouble? But you watch Matthew hit me and you just go on as usual.”

  “Kaitlyn, I’m sorry. What I did to you was wrong.”

  “You see this and think you need to come rescue me? But you left me with my dead baby in a chapel.”

  “You lost the baby,” Sarah said, positive that was the situation all along. But it hurt to hear. Another tear burned her face.

  “I lost the baby Sarah. And I lost my only friends that day. Jack, Benji, you. You were all great. But you were just Matthew’s toys. Same as me. When he says come, you come. And when he says heel, you heel.”

  “I thought you would be safe at the chapel, Kaitlyn.”

  “I was. Thankfully. I was also at The Throne. You gave up on Matthew? Grew a conscience a little late for my child, hmm?”

  “I couldn’t do it, Kaitlyn. He was different with that thing on his arm.”

  “Was he? Because he seemed the same to me when I saw him in the streets of The Throne. I was blind to it before, just as you were, Sarah. So I know. I paid for my ignorance. I paid for my ignorance in more blood than just my own. People died at The Throne.”

  “Kaitlyn.”

  “Matthew died at The Throne, Sarah. Benji, too. Matthew killed Benji.”

  Sarah wailed as tears fell more freely, each of them sizzling as they cooked away to steam. Her face was beginning to redden and blister where the tears tried to fall.

  “I don’t blame just you, Sarah. We are all to blame for what happened there. We all share some of the sins against Jack, too. And against Gideon. By even acknowledging Matthew’s presence when he woke up in the morning, we bore some of the responsibility for what he did to us and those poor people.”

  “Kaitlyn, I’m so sorry.”

  “I know, and I am, too. I really am.” Kaitlyn walked to Sarah and ran her hand along the woman’s face. Sarah stifled a scream as Kaitlyn’s hand, impossibly hot to the touch, burned her jawline and neck.

  “P-p-please, Kaitlyn. Let me help you,” Sarah stuttered, closing her eyes as hard as she could, not able to bear seeing Kaitlyn this way.

  “I don’t need your help, Sarah.”

  “Don’t let that man define you, Kaitlyn. Just let him go. Stop all of this. You’re doing exactly what he did, gaining power and using it just for yourself. Stop living his life, Kaitlyn. Let him die.”

  “Of course, you say that now. Would you be vouching for Matthew if he were here, still alive? If it were his life in my hand instead of yours, would you defend it? Beg for it?”

  Sarah opened her eyes to see Kaitlyn, sad in the face but her eyes stoic, looking through her. “No,” Sarah said.

  “The Crew is done,” Kaitlyn declared. “You were a true friend to me. When I really did not have many. Again, Sarah. I’m sorry.”

  Sarah said nothing more as Kaitlyn, not at all eager to see the woman’s death, slowly stood straight. She looked away and waved her hand. Only the sound of tumbling stones could be heard as the ground swallowed Sarah.

  Kaitlyn took a deep breath and continued walking.