The clone of myself had barreled through Quint as though he were a pile of leaves, destroying the precious formation the Forged Order has no doubt practiced hundreds of times.

  Yun and Gelf were incapable of stopping it and I decided that I’d rather not be torn to pieces just to stay in formation. I channeled the power of my river stone and sped off. The clone of myself, despite being strong enough to throw a Champion like a used rag, was not too fast.

  I wondered why as I jumped over a bush made of fingers, ears and tongues. The environment around me was created by my Dream, and was probably limited by my own imagination and desires. And if there was one thing I didn’t like, it was running.

  A tree screamed like a child throwing a tantrum as the clone punched straight through it.

  Thankfully the clone also didn’t seem particularly intelligent. With his strength he could pick up a rock and throw it, crushing my skull.

  Overhead the giant tree still seized violently, and burning through the cloud covered sky were shots of light from a point up the mountain, raining down on the forest below.

  I could use the help, but it seemed Professor Alyci preferred to wait until the last moment.

  I circled around the Forged Order team, watching their fight from the corner of my eye as I ran. Quint had recovered quickly, already dealing the finishing blow to the chimera, while Icey and Downs were having more difficulty with the flesh knight. Large swathes of the area was burned by the Packers fire, the finger spiders smoldering and curled up in death.

  Then, in another wave of Intent and trembling ground everything vanished. The trees were no longer made of skin and pulsing arteries, the flesh knight and clone dissolved like cotton candy in water.

  When I looked to the center of the forest my eyes widened. The giant purple tree was gone. Just, gone. The purple mist that suffused the area began to disappear along with the tree.

  “Monty! Come over here,” Downs called out. “Are you hurt?”

  “No.”

  “I am, those finger things bite hurts!” Yun snapped. “Seriously M, what the hell is wrong with your head?”

  Yun’s pant leg was rolled up, a circular bite mark leaking a surprising amount of blood on his shin. Gelf was cleaning the wound, asking himself out loud if bites from imaginary creatures could cause a bad infection.

  “Don’t call me M.”

  Only Elina could call me that.

  “Sorry about that Monty. Tempers rise when someone gets hurt,” Quint said, looking at our surroundings for any sign of danger.

  “Okay.”

  “So… the tree’s gone,” Icey said.

  “How astute,” Yun muttered.

  “We’re leaving,” Quint said. “Our mission is not to investigate anything. Leave it to p-”

  He cut off while staring where the tree was once visible.

  “Another group is approaching, we can ask them what happened. Hey! Which team are you? Do you know what happened to the tree?”

  The approaching silhouettes paused, the thinning mist beginning to show their distinct figures. They were not of the Sun State.

  Caramel skin with black numbers visible on their foreheads. Two black armored figures with chalk white zeros plastered onto their helm and chest pieces, large black swords strapped to their sides, and carried in their arms was a large tree branch with black bark and purple leaves.

  The one leading them was a handsome boy at an age with me. His long black hair was in a low ponytail and he wore thin robes that shouldn’t keep him warm so far north. Just above his gleaming green eyes and pointed eyebrows was a single number. A silver nine.

  A Digit, and a Dreamer at that. Steel grey Intent flowed off of him like a steady stream.

  The boy surveyed us, eyes too calculating and cold for someone so young. In his hands he held a piece of parchment, which he rolled up and slid into his robes.

  “Yes we do know what happened. I apologize for the danger, we did not expect the Nightmare to be able to react quite like that,” the boy said, voice methodically slow and purposeful.

  Quint leveled his sword at the group. The others of our group mimicked him.

  “You destroyed the tree?”

  “If I did, would you still stand in my way?” the boy asked.

  I would not. I did not see any reason for us to do so anyways. The tree may be important to the school, perhaps even the country, but it was not important to me.

  “I guess you did not see the shots fired from the mountain?” Quint replied.

  “I did, quite the feat. However if someone was capable of shooting me from that distance, would you not wonder why they had not yet done so?” the boy replied.

  “Because-”

  “It is because if my life becomes endangered then I will have no choice but to either kill those in my way or hold you hostage. But you do make a good argument, who knows if the Dreamer on the mountain will change their mind,” he locked eyes with me. “Empyrean boy, you will be my hostage, even if you struggle no serious harm will come to you. We are not here to make enemies.”

  “No,” Quint replied.

  “I was not asking.”

  “Good I would hate to be rude.”

  The boy stared at Quint for a few moments before releasing a restrained sigh through his nose.

  “Zeros. Do not kill them.”

  The two armored Zeros blasted forward as if they weighed nothing. No prismatic steam was ejected from their armor to indicate that they used Sun Stones, but still they moved faster than I had seen the Champions move so far.

  It was absurd to think the two could win against three Champions and three Packers, but the way the boy ignored the fight unnerved me. Instead he summoned a piece of parchment and quill from nothing, beginning to write on the floating parchment as easily as if it were on a desk.

  The first Zero reached Quint, swinging his sword harshly down, but Icey intercepted with the shaft of his hammer, the Zero slid his blade down the length, trying to take off Icey’s fingers. Quint swung his own sword at the distracted Zero, but the second Zero slammed into him, staggering the heavily armored man before spinning to intercept Down’s spear with his sword.

  Icey retreated, but the Zero gripped his hammer by the shaft and spun them around, switching their places and putting himself in the middle of the Forged Order’s formation.

  Downs had to protect the still recovering Quint against the second Zero, who attempted to slam their black blade onto him. Meanwhile the first Zero still faced Icey, struggling against the man for control over Icey’s hammer while also using his other hand to swing his blade behind him, causing the Packers to retreat and Yun’s injured leg to buckle and him fall backwards onto his heavy pack.

  They were so fast, though not as strong as the Champions, seeing how the first Zero had the hammer ripped from his grip a moment later.

  The second Zero turned to the now downed Yun and brought his blade down like a royal executioner. Yun yanked on a strap connected to his pack and it burst into a steaming whirlwind, encasing him in a shell of metal.

  Steel shrieked and sparks flew as a deep gouge was torn into the metal shield, and Down put her entire body into a spear swing to keep the sword lodged into the metal shell. Instead of fighting her for control of his weapon the Zero let go and used the haft of Downs’s spear as a springboard to leap. Right at me.

  In a blink the Zero was wrapped around me similarly to the snake from earlier, one hand gently cradling my jaw while the other one was held out to stop anyone from approaching.

  Everyone froze, the only sound was the scratching of quill on parchment, and the Zero’s heavy breaths in my ear. Despite the incredible agility it seemed the brief exchange took a lot out of him.

  The boy finished his writing a moment later, quickly reading what he wrote before approaching us without an ounce of fear.

  “Boy, you will sign this paper. It states that as long as you comply no harm will come to you and you will be released once we have left.”

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  “We’re the same age,” I replied automatically.

  “No, I am about a year younger.”

  Then why did he call me boy? The Nine slipped around the group of warriors, not sparing them a glance.

  The Forged Order struggled with themselves, but a gesture from Quint stopped them from doing anything. I did not trust the durability of my river stone to stop the Zero from being able to snap my neck.

  The Bronze Islander showed me the paper, which was written in Empyrean. It stated exactly as he said, that I would not be injured and would be released once they left the area.

  “I’m not signing that.”

  “You plan on fighting us?”

  “I don’t know what that signing that paper will do to me.”

  Everyone had heard stories of people signing contracts with devilish Nightmares and cursing them for life.

  “Nothing as long as you do not break the contract.”

  I didn’t trust him, and the only thing that would make me sign that contract was a threat to my life, which he already stated he would not do as it would put him in danger from Professor Alyci.

  Speaking of, would the professor interfere if I tried to sign the paper? Surely she knew it would be a bad idea. Could he force me to sign it? I assumed that a magical piece of paper summoned from his Dreamscape would do more than a normal paper contract, but he could be bluffing.

  I doubted it.

  But whether forcing me to sign something would make me beholden to it I could not say. He might just not be doing so in order to keep a semblance of peace.

  “He won’t be signing that,” Quint said.

  “It is not your choice, it's his.”

  “No it's mine, and he will not be signing that,” a new, but familiar voice said.

  Cystella strolled casually into the clearing, her clothing unblemished and her umbrella open despite the overcast sky. There were no Forged Order with her. Were they dead? Left behind?

  “I have heard of you. Cystella the sane Skulker.”

  “Why thank you. I appreciate that my reputation is of a sane woman,” she replied with her flat scratchy voice.

  “My name is Ravik Reverest. A Nine of the Bronze Isles Digits.”

  “I can see that, would you let Mister Gao go?”

  “No, I don’t believe you were here for the conversation, but I am going to hold him hostage,” Ravik explained patiently, as though this was a polite disagreement on traded goods.

  The hand around my jaw loosened, and for a brief moment I thought the Zero was betraying Ravik the Nine. But I could see the Zero’s shining black gauntleted hand was webbed over with non reflective black Stygoscript, a dribble of black steam rising off of the script.

  Shakily the Zero stepped back, trying to fight against the Stygoscript, but was incapable.

  “No, you won’t.”

  Ravik looked at the black Stygoscript that enveloped not only the two Zero’s but the four other Bronze Islanders still next to the purple leafed branch.

  Steel Intent ballooned off of him, destroying the black lines that crept from the grass toward him.

  “A Stygoscript based Wit? No wonder you have caught the attention of the Isles.”

  Ravik threw away the piece of parchment, it burned away into nothingness before another parchment formed. This one was as big as Quint’s armored torso with five numbered bullet points on the left side. It floated behind him and followed his movements as he leapt away from Cystella. A similarly large Quill appeared next to the paper and began to write.

  It wasn’t in Solarian or Empyrean, but instead in Braesh. The language had been nearly destroyed when the Coal Empire took over the Bronze Isles, and after their final rebellion the Bronze Isles did everything to recover it.

  Ravik quickly finished a line of looping script on the number one spot. Then he opened his mouth.

  “No one is allowed to use Stygoscript.”

  Immediately all six Forged Order, the two Zeros and myself glowed red. Meanwhile Cystella had canceled her ability immediately when Ravik spoke. The light around her was a bright orange.

  “Detain.”

  Red chains burst into existence, shackling my arms and dragging me to my knees. The others that glowed red were in a similar situation, even the Zeros. That meant either Ravik didn’t care to exclude them or he was incapable of doing so.

  How did I use Stygoscript though? Unlike them I had no-

  My watch, the one that ran off a drop of my stamina.

  Cystella still glowed orange, however Ravik and the four other Bronze Islanders had no glow around them.

  “So all the Stygoscript etched into your body has been deactivated? That must have been painful,” Ravik said with a touch of mockery in his voice.

  “A bit,” Cystella agreed, black intent billowing off of her in large quantities.

  I blinked and she was gone. Ravik’s steely Intent exploded off of his body as he blocked the sudden swipe from Cystella’s umbrella with one hand. She in turn retreated from his kick, and they began to exchange rapid blows. So fast, far faster than the Zeros.

  I looked down at the red chains keeping me down. They extended into the earth as if they were born from there. I tried moving my arms, and I was surprised to find how much give they had, but the moment I tried to stand from my kneeling position they yanked taught once more.

  After a few moments they loosened enough for me to have freedom of arm movement once more. So the looseness was a function of theirs, not a defect.

  I dug my fingers underneath the cool shackle, and after some tinkering, was able to unlatch my Stygoscript watch from my wrist, pulling it from beneath the metal cuff and letting it fall to the ground.

  Nothing happened, I was still shackled to the ground. Actually, something did happen, the shackle grew tighter, taking up the space the watch just vacated.

  “It didn’t work?” Downs asked quietly from nearby.

  “What? Oh, no it did not.”

  My goal had not actually been escaping. If I did escape it would only bring the attention of Ravik, I had just wanted to see if taking off the watch would stop the detainment. The Forged Order were attempting to take off their gauntlets, but the moment they slipped their arms free from the metal gauntlet the cuffs would follow their wrists and tighten down.

  Amazing, was that an intentional design from Ravik or an intuitive part of the Wit? How would you be able to make something crafted from your Dreamscape do that in the real world?

  I brought my face closer to the red shackles, inspecting its shape. They were elongated hexagons, but unlike real chains there was no mark to indicate where the metal was forcibly bent into shape or fused together.

  Rubbing the metal against my cheek I could feel its smoothness. It did not feel like a natural metallic smoothness, as though it were missing a quality that metal normally contained. An imperfection in the crafting of the ability? Or an intentional effect? Perhaps Ravik felt as though being exacting was unnecessary. I did not know enough about crafting Wits to know.

  I sniffed at the metal, but could tell nothing from it. Then, after a brief hesitation, I licked the red metal, noting how the edges of the cuffs and hexagonal chain links were blunted. If that were an intentional design then it may show that Ravik was not cruel, or did not want to be seen as cruel.

  “What are you doing?” Yun asked in disgust.

  Absurd, these chains only just appeared. How could they be dirty?

  “Feeling the chains with my tongue.”

  “Why?”

  “To feel the metal more thoroughly.”

  “And why- nevermind,” he cut himself off before muttering darkly. “Freaky Dreamers and their insane habits are their problem.”

  Ravik leapt back, neither him nor Cystella landing any significant blows. I wondered how hard they were hitting one another. What might be easily blockable for them may be able to shatter my arms like a dry branch.

  And if that were not the case, and instead their attacks were not much stronger than what I could accomplish did that not mean that the two were essentially fighting like children albeit with much more finesse than most children were capable of.

  Did the maturity of a fight only mean that the weight behind the blows were strong enough to be considered dangerous? My meandering thoughts were interrupted by the large quill once again writing on the parchment floating behind Ravik.

  “Women are not allowed to move,” he declared.

  Cystella froze in place, the orange light around her darkening for just a moment before settling back.

  One of the Bronze Islanders was wrapping the tree branch in thick brown paper, and she had evidently not paid attention to the fight going on.

  “Detain.”

  Red chains brought the woman to the ground, but Ravik ignored her, eyes still on Cystella.

  Why would he do that to his own ally?

  Because he had no choice.

  Ravik must not be able to go against certain conditions. If someone broke one of the rules on the paper and glowed red Ravik may be forced to “detain” them, even if they are an ally.

  But why create an ability like that? Why not be able to only impose it on whomever you wished. My knowledge on Wits and their creation hindered me from making anything more than assumptions.

  Cystella twitched her arm, but the color around her did not change. Then she slowly straightened from her hunched pose, the orange glow around her darkening, but never dipping into red. When her leg moved Ravik opened his mouth, but Cystella didn’t finish taking her foot off of the ground, letting it settle back down.

  I guessed that made sense, Cystella couldn’t stop herself from moving entirely. Her heart constantly pumped blood, lungs continuously expanded and contracted. Natural movements, ones that did not change Cystella’s location on the ground, seemed to be fine.

  So instead Cystella raised her umbrella and black Intent funneled into it, concentrated on the tip.

  A black beam as thick as my arm shot out of the umbrella, and Ravik raised his own Intent to shield him. It was hard to say how much power the attack had as I’d never seen anything like it before, but I had to assume that it would not be pleasant to take unprotected.

  At first it looked like Ravik was going to try and weather the attack, but it quickly became apparent that Cystella’s Intent was more potent than Ravik’s. The beam peeled away layers of steel grey Intent and Ravik twisted his body out of the way and bolted toward Cystella, his blank face finally showing some frustration.

  Cystella moved her umbrella to follow Ravik, and I could see the deep trench the beam of Intent left in the ground. Ravik smacked the umbrella away and punched Cystella in the face. She stumbled back, but still the color around her did not change to red. So forced movement did not count as breaking the rule?

  Ravik continued his assault, and Cystella was completely outclassed. Perhaps if she were able to move freely things would have been different, but as it was she could barely defend herself. She was thrown from side to side, having to keep making awkward recoveries without moving much.

  It was not long before she made a mistake. Cystella’s foot stepped back of her own volition to brace for an oncoming kick. Like blossoming blood, red light surrounded Cystella.

  “Detain.”

  Red chains, stark against Cystella’s monochrome appearance, brought her to the ground.

  Cystella stared at the boy towering over her. Her face was a mess of blood and bruises, a long stream of blood flowed from her nose and poured down her chin to create a small pool between her legs.

  She didn’t try to stand, instead just raising her hand and forming another ball of destructive Intent.

  Ravik’s leg smashed into the side of her head, the crack so loud I worried he snapped her neck. Cystella collapsed as though her spine had turned to jelly.

  The Nine stared at the girl in silence for a few moments, just as he began to move forward a beam of light hit the ground at his feet.

  Turning his head Ravik stared at the mountain overhead before releasing an unsteady breath and turning away.

  “Catch up,” he said to the Zero’s and woman before beckoning the other Bronze Islanders with his hand. They picked up the large tree branch and followed after Ravik.

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  AN-

  I often have dreams of pulling out my own teeth.