It was so cold that night he could see his breath, the dryness of the air wicking out any moisture from his skin. It wasn't unlike that day in the outskirts of Greyhaven.
He saw a figure appear in the distance much sooner than he anticipated, and thankfully so. Never had he felt more ready to face the embers inside, that shadow of a past he could no longer wait to ignite. The coals were smoking, a flame was waking up.
One ember for his mother's tears, another for his father's shouts. Two more for their corpses, for the person he'd lost when the industry grabbed hold of him. More for his found family, and the friends that he'd soon betray. Hundreds for the victims, their families, and countless more of his people's agony. All of them came back to one link, one arachnid spinning the web.
These embers smoldered for one purpose. He'd get revenge if it killed him.
Trelisti pushed himself up from the stone he'd been sitting on, a quartzlike, biege-white block like the ones making up the rest of the ruins. He wasn't sure what was more surprising: that Anansi had shown up alone, or that he'd come at all.
"So you're the one causing a stir." His voice was a drawl as he approached from the center in full sight. "I hear you only speak Common."
Trelisti studied his appearance first, confirming his identity with a tattoo on his wrist. The facial scars were easy to spot: one running through his eyebrow and another between his chin and cheek. His flat hair and tanned skin weren't the same as most of the people here—they were more akin to the southern portion of Ethforge, and if his accent was any indication, he wasn't from Te Fehr at all.
"Seems it's your native language, too," Trelisti replied with a glare, keeping his distance for now. He was still wary of the unknown secondary. "Which one are you from? Ambridge? Rith?"
"The latter," Anansi replied. He wasn't moving much, nor giving any signs of intention to fight. "Are you surprised, discovering the head of the pulse industry was born a foreigner? Or perhaps the opposite—I suppose you're one, too."
Trelisti couldn't figure out his game, find whatever spot he was trying to prod at. But a part of him wanted answers, and there seemed little harm in playing along.
"Shocked. No outlander's ever exploited my people before," Trelisti replied sarcastically, giving such a thick grimace he could practically feel it dripping from his face. "Borders don't matter to the powerful. You just beat the guy running it before you, right?"
"And him the same," he confirmed, pressing a hand to a worn column. "The cycle continues, for all of us except the first. Is that why you chose this place, Ti'au—to be like the first?"
Trelisti's confusion was easy to tell as he pondered the question, silence an unwilling answer. "It's recognizable and a good distance from Rhanu. There wasn't a better spot."
"So you aren't aware of its history." The look Anansi returned was disappointed, almost taunting. "My mistake. I only assumed, since you seem to know everything else."
Trelisti was quiet, watching him with a predator's eye. He drew his hand away from the stone, fingertips chalked with fine powder, and took a seat opposite of where he stood.
"Please, sit. Let an older man tell you a story," Anansi said, extending a flat palm towards a fallen column. "We'll get to your business afterwards, worry not."
It would be so easy to kill him right there, to vanish into the shadows and run a blade into his neck. He wouldn't even be able to put up a fight.
But that just wasn't as satisfying.
"Wise boy," said Anansi as he sat, on guard for every instant. "I suppose it's a leap to ask for the hood down?"
Trelisti's returning stillness was the only answer he'd give. Anansi sighed, muttering something about respecting his elders, then plastered on a fake smile.
"The story begins with your ancestors," he narrated, rubbing the grains of stone off his fingertips. "As humans first arrived in Te Fehr, traveling from the coast of Fehr-Abas to the midlands, they reached a place soon known as Jeme. A rich land right off the tail of the mountains, where springs poured between boulders and caverns provided shade from the desert sun. The weary travelers found a haven at last—except for one slight problem.
"The lands were already occupied. Near the springs, in systems of caves, even a ways off from the mountainside, Sabja had long claimed the lands of Jeme for themselves. The humans' presence wasn't well-received, and war soon broke out from all sides. Unlike the humans, united and great in number, the Sabja were separated into small tribes, much like the Korja we see today. Ravaged by incoming disease and the humans' assault, the leader of one particular tribe—a man named Sa'ryn—found his remaining people massacred. In the cave they called home, he watched the walls spattered in red, inches of blood pooling the white stone floor. He was the last standing against their assaulters. Sa'ryn was strong, but few exist who can defeat an army alone—at least not without one hell of a power card."
Trelisti saw the pieces connect before he said them, a chant ringing loud in his memory. The sacrifice of his people, the stone to be their graves...
"I see it's clicked," Anansi said with a small chuckle, laying his chin on his closed fist. "Sa'ryn sacrificed the blood of his people as an offer to Ferthum. Being the Core of the Earth, the invocation was born through the marriage of blood and stone. Thus, pulse magic was born. Every human in the cavern felt their magic suppressed, and Sa'ryn killed all but a young boy. Perhaps it was out of kindness that he spared him, or maybe his strength had run out. He wasn't heard from again after the kid escaped, holding the secret that would soon build an industry."
Anansi finished the story with a musing smile, watching and waiting for a response. The patience disgusted him.
He wouldn't give him the satisfaction. Trelisti kept his face blank with his reply. "Why tell me this?"
"If only one of us is to walk away, I'd regret the history dying," answered Anansi, unfolding his hand and straightening up. "Of course, it could all be avoided with a deal."
"I'm not making a deal with you," Trelisti replied, glancing down at the tattoo on his wrist. "I'd be a fool to get caught in your web."
"Oh, but you already are," Anansi purred. For a moment, his voice sounded deathly similar to the ones in his memories, sending a chill behind his neck. "See, Jamir's already told me of your past. How thick the industry runs in your blood. He assures me you're a valuable asset—an efficient, emotionless killer. And seeing as we're short-staffed, you're a perfect fit."
A flush of rage burned hot in his skin. Of course Jamir would expose his identity, do anything he could to have him as a dog again. It was stupid to think he might give up on it.
"And before you argue," Anansi continued, cutting him off just as Trelisti opened his lips. "I haven't revealed my hand."
Anansi stood up and started to walk, clinging to the edge of the ruins.
"I can't be the only one to find it ironic—the Ti'au they're praising up north is the son of two criminals. Your father might've been a nobody, but your mother's side is much more interesting." He looked over his nails, blowing out the remaining stone. "The daughter of the second-in-command at the time, a high-ranking spy turned handler...do you even know how much she did for them before she had you? Your reputation would crumble in an instant."
"I don't give a shit how society views me." Trelisti was on his feet before he finished the sentence. "You've got nothing on me."
"I thought you might say that. You don't really seem like a people person," Anansi replied, a fleck of amusement in his eyes. "So imagine my surprise when I found that Korja man and your girlfriend. Who'd have thought Espire was running around in a place like this, teeming with people who want to hunt her?"
A thread snapped, and he knew it. Anansi caught Trelisti's blade with one placed defensively at his neck, a motion so swift it was easy to see how he'd landed at the top.
"Careful, now," Anansi tsked, faking a look of pity. "They're already in Jamir's grip. He's got orders to kill them if I don't return before sunrise."
It was enough to make him hesitate. Trelisti pulled back, clasping his dagger's hilt so tight that his hands went pale. He felt the embers inside crackling.
"Do you understand now, Ti'au?" Anansi asked, smile mirroring a demon's. "Join us, or they die."
He felt it then, the leash. Oxygen cut from the embers, a heavy blanket draped over his soul. From the moment it first consumed him, when his entire life became dedicated to revenge, he swore he'd be willing to pay any price. But that was before them.
Let us become strengths, said a voice in his mind, that damn whisper he couldn't bury. Trust us.
His blood boiled under his skin. Every inch of flesh tore against itself. His chest was here and miles away, quaking with each breath. A weight ached when he gave his answer.
"They're stronger than you. Any of you," Trelisti muttered, along with a silent prayer that might've been his first. He felt the guilt swell against his ribcage, then blew it away when he tore off the leash. "I'm not taking your deal."
The embers finally woke. He sank into the darkness, then reappeared from the back. His blade tore through Anansi's jacket, grazing skin, but not going nearly deep enough. Anansi stepped forward before he could inflict real damage, then turned around with impressive speed.
"Good gods, Ti'au, you're an asshole," he laughed, a half-circle of flame emerging from his arm. In the other hand, he held the same parrying dagger, making an attack from the front risky. "No wonder Jamir wants you so bad."
Trelisti didn't encourage him with a response. Anansi avoided two blows now, even with the cover of night. Impressive as it was, reaction speed alone wasn't enough to guard him from an invisible blade. So either he'd seen them coming, unlikely given his magic type, or he was predicting attacks.
"Is there really nobody who can chain you?" he asked when the attacks ceased. His darting eyes were a confirmation that he couldn't see him as Trelisti encircled him, pondering his next move. "Nothing I can offer you to get you on our side?"
"Cut the bullshit."
Trelisti only gave the reply to mislead him, appearing from the direction opposite of the words. Sure enough, he got a hit in, slicing from the middle of his back towards his neck. It still wasn't as deep as he'd have liked—severing the spine would've been better—but it was the first cut that felt like it did something. Anansi jerked forward with a wince.
"Then I guess you leave me no choice," he replied, tone flaring with the flame on his arm. It sliced through the air in the shape of a crescent.
Trelisti ducked, feeling a wave of heat sail over his head before it crashed into the column behind. Stone flew in every direction, bouncing off of Trelisti and scattering nearby. A glow flickered in Anansi's eyes.
"Got you," he murmured under the raining debris.
Trelisti was swift to leap out of the way, watching a burst of raw fire erupt where he'd been standing. He had to admit it was a clever trick.
But that wasn't enough to put him down.
Trelisti took the chance to land an immediate counterattack, this time targeting the waist. There was a delicate balance in this dance they were playing: Anansi's front was well-defended, and an attack from the back was too predictable. If he couldn't yet hit vitals, he'd limit his mobility until he could. But he had to leave evasion as an option no matter where he struck. Anansi was too quick, and too smart, to risk getting caught without an out.
This time, the parrying knife swept past his face, just like he thought. It was the reason he'd chosen to come in from the left—the flame weapon guarding his other side was sure to deal a better counter. He'd never seen anything like it, a burning blade held as if it were a tonfa.
What Trelisti expected less was the arc of flame that followed. He almost had to use shieldskin to defend from it, but dropped to the ground instead, deciding to preserve magic. He rolled away before the follow-up could reach him: another loose wave of it, enough to flay him alive with a direct hit. His only reassurance was watching Anansi pant, realizing there was likely a swift limit to how much he could use that ability.
The only problem then was that Anansi upped his defense. A stream of fire encircled him, preventing Trelisti from getting up close without shieldskin. He reached for his throwing knives instead.
"Hiding again?" Anansi called as he disappeared into the background. Trelisti was still aiming for his throat when instinct stopped him, a premonition panging against the walls of his skull.
He barely vaulted over the fallen column in time. A surge of heat sweltered the air around him, fire spilling past the ends of the broken stone. He had to combine shadows with shieldskin to defend himself from the heat of the air alone, and the blaze wasn't even touching him. It was too dangerous to look back, but even without doing so, he could tell.
The entire scene was swallowed by an inferno. Heatwaves still simmered after the fire dissolved.
"Seeing as you're still alive," said a cacophonous voice, so dry and distorted that it didn't sound human. "I suppose there's only one place you could be."
Trelisti could hardly believe he got there so fast, feeling a bare palm clench deep into his shoulder.
"Goodbye, Ti'au."
Magma marbled his arm, coursing through his sleeve and imprinting his flesh. He felt the burn through shieldskin.
Then each line ignited, and he felt his magic crack.
Trelisti responded by shoving a blade into his jaw. He tried to tug away and found himself stuck in place, pinned by a grip that felt like stone.
"Curious things happen when you shake hands with the Prince of Night," Anansi hummed, pulling the dagger out unbothered. A flame sealed the wound as quick as it appeared. "Or a watery form of him, I suppose. Who knew it'd be so easy to contact him? That he'd be so generous towards our cause?"
Trelisti cut his sleeve loose from Anansi's grip, smothering the flame and backing away. Cauterized streaks remained even after it was extinguished.
"I don't know what kind of twisted deal you two made," he replied, taking heavy breaths. "But he's playing you."
Anansi summoned the flame-tonfa again, but kept the parrying dagger sheathed. Trelisti had a feeling he understood his secondary now—a sort of enhanced strength, which needed contact to activate. But that didn't explain how he healed from a blow that should've been fatal.
"Maybe so. It's poetic, in a way," Anansi deliberated. Closer, he could see one of his eyes was stained black. "You, a creature of darkness, fighting for Fehr. Myself, one of flame, working with Hjerti. It really does make you wonder who's got your interests in mind."
"Neither. We're pawns to them," Trelisti slipped back behind him, enduring the scalding pain in his arm. "And you're mistaken if you think I'm doing this for Fehr."
He accompanied the words with a perfect hit—a flat slice straight through his ribs, squelching when it hit pierced his heart. Anansi stumbled forward.
"Then I wonder," he coughed, catching himself on the fallen column. The wounds on his back were already starting to heal, along with the one on his waist. "Why Hjerti wanted you dead so badly."
Trelisti stepped back to avoid a counter, tonfa swinging past his chest. It left a trail of flame, which he was quick to sidestep before it could make contact with his skin. He'd seen what it did to that column.
"Does he still?" Trelisti asked, in part from curiosity, but mostly to stall. It seemed a fair guess that Anansi was something like the asazai, able to recover from fatal wounds. Assuming that, he'd need to cancel his magic to deal real damage.
"He doesn't care anymore. Said it was too late, and bestowed me with power instead." Anansi looked around for the source of the voice, but Trelisti was already on the opposite end, reaching into his cloak for his ace. "Fehr scares him quite a bit—said a land of fire would stand a chance of resisting the night. So he's tasked me with spreading the darkness in place of the asazai."
"I didn't ask for your monologue," Trelisti said, throwing him off with the direction of his voice. He felt the weight of the pulse chains as he closed in, inches away from his exposed wrist...
Before Anansi drove his fist into the ground, and the stone below shattered.