NG EY

Prologue | A ship became the sky.

Wyrie.

Deavor! Good to see you again.

...You too.

Ah, it's been so long. Where shall we start?

The pincer burst through the door with a vicious crunch. Splinters sprayed from the uneven hole, and Nalia felt her father's bare arms tremble as they embraced her. "Lia. Lia," he whispered. "You know we'll always be there."

Painfully slowly, the Dark claw withdrew. Faint moonlight streamed into the dark hallway for just a moment, illuminating the messy arc of wood shards on the floor. Then, darkness replaced the light again, and Nalia heard the low clicks of something otherworldly. "I smell you, Lightlings," it hissed. Her breath caught, and she tightened her grip on her sword.

"Dupik, please," her mother begged. "We can still run."

He straightened and rested his hand on the hilt at his side. "No. We're ending this."

The pincer struck again, taking the place of the locked knob, and the door swung forward in defeat. Behind it lurked two figures, both jet-black and as textureless as shadows. The one in front resembled a large praying mantis, and behind it was someone not quite human. He laughed, and, as if on cue, the mantis pounced.

Claws met two blades, and dreadlocks flew. A sweeping strike from Nalia sliced cleanly across the creature's abdomen, and her father got hold of a bent antenna when the mantis curled around its injury. With a decisive swipe, Dupik held a lifeless triangular head. He threw it aside. "You scraithon are tougher than you look," the remaining Dark shape scoffed.

"Thanks," Dupik said. "That means a lot."

"Dupik Acho, right?" the faceless man continued conversationally. "The master swordsmith?"

Dupik stepped over the crumpled pile of insectoid limbs, sword angled in anticipation. Nalia lifted her own bloodied blade and tried to follow him, but her mother held her back by the hand. "It's going to be fun to kill you, Oemen," Dupik growled.

The Dark man drew a long sword that was as black as everything else about him, and in three strides, he parried Dupik's flurry of attacks and lifted the swordsmith by his collar with a fist. "Dark Councilor Secham to you, Light filth."

Dupik's eyes narrowed. The smooth green stone embedded in his sword flashed, and the emerald light rippled through his veins. With a yell, he wrenched Secham's hand away and landed on his toes, and his sword became a blur, slamming into the Councilor's raised weapon and sending it flying with ridiculous speed. Dupik swung once more, green magic still radiating from his deep brown skin, and two Dark digits fell to the ground.

Councilor Secham staggered backward, clutching his hand. His grimace was audible and transformed into a manic roar. "You're finished, Acho!" As Nalia watched in horror, streams of Dark magic began to wind around the Councilor's arms and legs like snakes. He tore his sword from the stone wall and lunged at Dupik.

Secham's first strike scraped across the black, knife-like ridges that ran down Dupik's tricep with a tremendous grating noise. Then, their blades clashed, and neither gave way. As Dupik began to strain, however, the Councilor disengaged and aimed for the throat. Nalia's heart dropped. She ripped her hand free from her mother's grasp and leaped forward, blocking the strike just in time.

She immediately knew something was wrong. Secham chuckled and slowed his sword, barely tapping it against hers. "Aren't you strong?" he said. "Just like your father." Without hesitation, he swung for her chest.

"No!" Dupik screamed. Bursting with green magic, he tackled the Councilor to the floor. Secham yelped in surprise and landed hard on his hands, and Dupik stabbed straight for his heart.

Before the sword could make it there, however, Secham seized the metal with his three-fingered left hand, stopping it dead. Dark magic swarmed around his twice-wounded fingers, and he hummed in satisfaction as Dupik struggled to tug his sword free. "This has been fun," the Councilor panted, "but playing by the rules is tiresome, don't you agree?"

Nalia ran at Secham, but he threw up his other hand and magic lashed out at her, slamming her to the ground. She moaned and held her forehead with both hands, and her mother bolted to her side. Nalia felt familiar hands help her sit up.

The Councilor stood, never letting go of Dupik's sword. Then, he reached into his pocket, producing something small and yellow. Nalia blinked and squinted, but she couldn't make out any more detail than that. Through the ringing in her ears, she thought she heard Secham murmur, "Go."

Another dark shape appeared. Unlike the Councilor, it reflected light, and to Nalia, it resembled a cluster of black crystals in a huge spider shape, at least half the height of Secham. Her father's flailing kick passed right through it, as if it was a ghost. Then, the crystalline thing jumped onto her father's chest, and Dupik collapsed, leaving his sword in Secham's shadowy hands.

Nalia stared. She could barely think. Her mother yelled something that she couldn't decipher and pulled her to her feet, and she had just enough time to grab her sword before she was yanked down the hall and out the squeaky back door.

Tears beaded in her eyes, and vision lost its usefulness almost entirely. Guided by her mother's hand, the soles of Nalia's feet touched the grassy backyard, then the stone street, where torrid heat enveloped her and she saw red. A comforting color.

"Keep going," her mother said suddenly, dropping her hand. "I'll be right behind you." Nalia heard footsteps depart, and then a scream. She ran, fire beating at her face.

She never saw either of her parents again.