Prismix's throne room screamed affluence.
The morning sunlight poured through high, arched windows, glinting off gilded walls, jeweled chandeliers, and a polished obsidian tile floor streaked with lustrous gold. Massive pillars sheathed in gold leaf lined the hall, each carved with crowns at their tops and bases. Two servants stood ready along the sides, while armed soldiers held their posts at the four corners—two by the doors and two beside the throne.
At the far end, raised on a stepped dais, stood the throne itself: a towering seat carved from pure gold, its arms of obsidian and its back crowned with a sunburst that caught every flicker of light.
On the throne sat Prismix. He wore a black silk robe lined with gold fur, a gold-embroidered tunic, a heavy cloak, a decorative belt, and black leather boots. A golden circlet, adorned with gems at its four cardinal points, wrapped around his head, and a scepter made entirely of lapis lazuli rested against his throne.
He had a look of contentment in his eyes—like a baby that had just been fed. He was in a good mood. This was rare. It also, for some reason, made his guards uncomfortable.
He picked up the scepter and motioned to a servant by the door.
"You. Go to the city gates and find out why the guards I sent to escort my guest to the palace haven't returned," he ordered.
"Yes, Your Majesty." The servant bowed and took his leave.
Prismix sighed in contentment and turned to the guard on his right.
"Things are looking up for us, boy. Things are looking up for Emönæ," Prismix said with a sly grin.
The guard stood motionless, staring forward.
"Ah, I see. You do not wish to talk to your king. That seems unfair. May I ask why?" Prismix asked.
The guard flushed red and began fidgeting. "I—I apologize, Your Majesty. I didn't know I was supposed to reply to your initial speech," he stuttered.
Prismix laughed heartily for a short while. "At ease, soldier. It was but a light te—" He was interrupted by an eerie cry of pain echoing from the palace corridor.
The Prisman soldiers immediately stiffened, gripping their weapons tighter. Prismix frowned and sat up. "What was that?" he demanded. He paused, listening. The cry came again.
"Go find out what that noise was," he commanded a guard by the door. The guard bowed and ran out to investigate.
Silence fell over the throne room. Everyone was on edge. Prismix gripped the arms of his throne, ready to rise, but nothing followed. The tension eased. He released the arms and sighed, sinking back.
Big mistake.
BOOM!
A massive column of fire burst from the corridor, flinging the doors across the throne room and throwing rubble across the floor. Prismix barely dodged the blast before it struck his throne—his throne guards weren't so lucky. The entrance and his dais now burned violently.
As he lay on the ground, Prismix saw a figure emerge from the flames, holding the shield of the fallen guard in one hand. It looked like... a teenage boy. He squinted through the haze to see clearer. It was a teenage boy.
It was Yakuso.
He threw the shield on the ground and walked forward, slowly scanning the room. Prismix dusted the rubble off himself and got up.
"Welcome, crown prince," Prismix cried, bowing in mock fashion.
Yakuso noticed him and locked eyes with him. He noticed the crown on Prismix's head and immediately charged, fury blazing in his feet and eyes. He kicked at Prismix, who casually blocked the attack. As soon as his feet connected, they burst into flames and singed Prismix's arm, forcing him to push Yakuso away. Prismix clutched his arm and fell to one knee, wincing in pain. He didn't let up. Using jet-like propulsion from the flames at his feet, he closed the distance faster than Prismix could react. He launched another brutal attack: a sharp knee driving Prismix's chin up. The king flew back but landed on his feet. He slowly rose and spat blood.
Yakuso tilted his head; he noticed something different about Prismix's face. Where skin should have been on his chin, large, teal scales replaced it.
Prismix grinned, blood on his teeth. "Something's not right. You've got that old fool's fire. You even fight like him. That should not be possible. Had I not protected myself just now, you could have dislocated my jaw."
"Call Garuba a fool one more time and I'll dislocate more than just your jaw," Yakuso threatened, his fists engulfed in flames.
"HAHAHAHA!" Prismix laughed mockingly. "You know you're in my palace, right? And you just assaulted a king?" he sneered.
"Tyrant. You're a tyrant. Don't confuse yourself with royalty," Yakuso snapped, sizing Prismix up.
"Royalty? Like you? You killed all my guards," Prismix retorted.
"Small doses of an elapid's venom can paralyze a grown man. It's really just you and me here, Prismix," Yakuso said.
"Very well, crown prince. Your little explosion alerted the main cavalry, though. More soldiers are on their way now. When they arrive, let's see whom they call royalty," Prismix replied.
Yakuso shifted uneasily after hearing that. His blind rage had faded and reason was clicking in. He understood the stakes: he was trapped with a man who could kill him—and reinforcements were coming. He'd used some of his Adva getting here and taking down the palace guards, so he didn't know how long before he crashed. His only hope was his friends. He hadn't told anyone where he was, so he didn't expect them to come. Kahito should know, though. Kahito might trust his instinct enough to find him. He had to bet on that. If not, fear would get him—and that would kill him quicker than self-deception. So until his siblings arrived, his only job was not to die. He could do that... right?
Prismix noticed his unease and chuckled. "Ah, it finally hit you. You do understand your impending peril. My men are coming, so until they arrive, why don't we play a game of endurance? Don't worry, I'm not wearing my gauntlets. I like to play fair." Prismix taunted as his body slowly became engulfed in teal scales. He put his fists up and charged.
Yakuso's eyes widened in shock. Prismix was fast—too fast.
He barely dodged the vicious punch that was thrown at him. Prismix nimbly landed on the wall behind Yakuso and jumped at his opponent once more. Yakuso wasn't quick enough this time—a sharp kick slammed into his back before he could react. He fell on his face, rolled over and got up in one swift motion.
For a brief moment, they paused, resolve on one face, excitement on the other. Prismix ended the break first, advancing once more. He swung at Yakuso but his fist met only air. He spun around—and froze. Yakuso was already behind him, whispering into a clenched fist.
Prismix watched in bewilderment as Yakuso punched the ground and a powerful blast of sound flung him across the throne room. Before he could land, Yakuso had already caught up with him, flames pushing him forward. He grabbed Prismix's face and drove his head into the ground, causing him to bleed from his crown.
He knelt over the king and began punching him repeatedly but his fists thudded uselessly against the king's scales. He caught both of Yakuso's arms to halt the barrage. Yakuso ignited his hands in an attempt to burn Prismix again but the king merely smiled.
"Your flames do not burn my scales. How disappointing that must be," Prismix taunted.
He punched Yakuso square in the face, launching him a few feet away. Yakuso managed to stabilize his fall and crouched on the ground. Prismix looked at the boy and squinted.
Teal, iridescent scales were slowly dissipating from Yakuso's face.
"My scales? Of course, it all makes sense now," Prismix laughed. "You can copy the blessings of others. That explains the sound and the obnoxious flames. And when you disappeared on me, you turned into something, didn't you? No wonder you could paralyze my soldiers. It's as clear as day now."
Yakuso didn't respond. Instead, he rose and put his fists up.
"You wont speak? No problem, but you just put yourself under the skids with that. I was going to play with you until the reinforcements arrived but seeing now that you can use my scales gives me the perfect opportunity to stress-test my blessing. I've always wondered how long my scales would last against my strength." Prismix said, grinning.
With an explosive speed, Prismix lunged at Yakuso. He closed the distance between them before Yakuso could even blink. Yakuso barely had time to put his arms up to block Prismix's punch.
Crack!
Yakuso was hurled so far across the room that he crashed through a pillar and into the wall. Prismix sauntered to him and picked him up. His body dangled in the air like a ragdoll as blood leaked out of his orifices.
But his arms suffered a worse fate. Not only was the punch powerful enough to break his arms but the teal scales on him had broken into his skin and made his arms to bleed even more.
"Do you see it now, crown prince? The glaring difference between you and I? This, crown prince, is the definition of power." Prismix mocked.
Yakuso's breathing was raspy and jagged. He had lost terribly, was running very low on Adva and looked like he was on the edge of death. Probably because he was. What was the worst that could happen?
"Go to hell," he spat blood on Prismix's face, which only enraged the king further.
"You insolent—," Prismix threw Yakuso on the ground so violently he bounced off the palace floors and coughed up blood.
"I'm going to tell you a little story about how your father died," Prismix said grabbing Yakuso's head. He began pulling the boy's head very slowly. He laughed maniacally as the poor boy screamed in agony.
He would be have been successful in decapacitating Yakuso's head had a huge polar bear not aggresively run into him from behind, knocking him off Yakuso and throwing him a feet across. The polar bear transformed into a girl and quickly went to Yakuso.
It was Reo.
She bent down on her knees to inspect his injuries.
"Oh my God, you're bleeding from your nose and eyes. Why is your arm purple? Is it broken? Are you okay? I mean—you don't look okay, but I'm still obligated to ask," Reo said, her words spilling out in a rapid-fire rush.
"How did you guys know I was here?" Yakuso asked, his breath shaky.
"Kahito figured you'd come here because that's what Garuba told us. Why the hell did you go running off on your own? You look like shit," she added.
Yakuso smiled faintly. The blood on his teeth made it look jarring. "I knew you would come," he muttered slowly.
"Of course we'd come. What else did you expect?" Reo teased.
Behind them, Prismix was already regaining consciousness. He shot to his feet, his face red with fury.
"He's coming. Be careful—he's very strong," Yakuso warned. His body started trembling violently. His breathing became more level, more calm.
"Don't worry about us. You just rest. You're already crashing," Reo advised.
Without warning, Prismix charged at them. An arrow whistled through the air and struck him in the shoulder. It bounced right off his scales, but it was enough to grab his attention.
He looked up at the entrance of the throne room to see Keira standing in the corridor, bow drawn and ready to fire. She looked confused, seeing as her arrow had just bounced off a teal man.
"I hate today," she muttered under her breath.
Reo charged, morphing mid-sprint into a lioness. Prismix blinked in confusion—that was enough to catch him off-guard. She leapt, claws flashing, but they slashed uselessly across Prismix's scales. He caught her forelegs and hurled her aside. Keira burst into the throne room and loosed another arrow—same result, it bounced harmlessly off. Prismix ignored it, pinning Reo to the floor and wrapping his massive hands around her throat.
Her form changed again. As a bombardier beetle, she reared back and blasted a jet of steaming acid into his eyes.
Prismix roared, staggering backward as smoke curled from his burning eyes.
Reo did not give him a moment's peace, transforming back to her original form and landing a vicious kick to his jaw. As Prismix fell, Keira was already behind him. Using the string of her bow, she grabbed Prismix's neck and dragged him into a reverse cutter.
Prismix recoiled so fast from the pain that if Keira had not removed the string on time, he would have broken the waxed sinew bowstring. He clasped his neck, choking violently.
Keira shuffled back on her rear, wincing. The attack had not left her unscathed. Her back and tailbone hurt so much from the impact against the obsidian floor.
Seeing Prismix weakened, Reo attempted to lunge at him again, but as she tried to transform, her form shimmered erratically and she reverted back to human. Keira noticed that her breathing had become heavy and she was trembling.
She was crashing.
"Stop fighting and rest. You're already exhausted from using your blessing for so long. Stand down," Keira advised.
Reo stared at her in defiance, her eyes flashing with adamance. The defiance slowly began to fade.
"Yeah, you're probably right. You can keep him busy till my sister comes," Reo nodded slowly, her eyes closing with every word until she fell unconscious.
"Yeah. Don't worry, Reo," Keira said as she got up, focusing on Prismix. "We're definitely going to survive this."
She nocked an arrow.
The king had stopped coughing and was rubbing his neck. He was bleeding. Luckily for him, the bowstring had cut into his skin but not his windpipe.
The sight of blood on his hands oddly calmed him down.
Without warning, he sprang at the helpless Reo.
Keira reacted instantly.
An arrow flew through the air and stopped him in his tracks. He could not ignore this one, though, because it struck his arm and warm blood trickled down. It had hit between his scales.
He removed the arrow and stared at Keira, dumbfounded.
"What?" Keira asked. "You really didn't expect to be invincible with a weak spot like that, did you? What a king you are! And to think the majority of my life was spent training to fight you. Come on, Your Majesty, don't disappoint me."
A menacing grin spread across her face.
Prismix frowned, the combination of sweat and soot from the burning room making him look even more malevolent. "Why do you fight me, young archer? I have no grudge with you."
"Tsk. Unfortunately for you, the feeling is not mutual," she replied, nocking another arrow, the warm morning sun bathing her in an angelic light.
Prismix sighed in frustration. "As you wish."
He charged at Keira once more and she loosed another arrow at the king. In an attempt to swat it away, the arrow lodged in his palm. He ignored the pain and swung a fist at Keira.
She was too nimble, jumping out of the way at the last second and firing another arrow at his face. This forced Prismix to block with his arm, causing the arrow to lodge in his forearm.
He winced in pain and cradled his bleeding arm.
"Getting tired, old man?" Keira taunted, nocking another arrow.
Prismix smiled. "Your accuracy is impeccable, young archer. Instead of wasting your skills in this impossible battle, why don't you join me? Instead of fighting against your kingdom, why don't you fight for it?"
He grinned.
Keira was disgusted. She fired another arrow at him, which he blocked, but it still lodged in his palm.
"First, you kill my friend's father," she started, drawing another arrow. "Then, you try to recruit me? You really are twisted."
She fired another arrow, this time at his heart.
Prismix caught it this time, driving the ones already in his palm deeper. Out of annoyance, he pulled out all the arrows from him.
Keira waited, arrow ready and a bored look in her eyes.
Prismix glanced over to Yakuso's unconscious body and pointed to him. "You're friends with the crown prince?" he asked.
"Yes," she answered. "And who's to say you might not even be behind the murder of Garuba," she added.
Prismix froze in shock.
"Garuba is dead?"
BANG!
In place of a reply, a flashbang of light blinded him momentarily and a column of fire burned his side.
Keira grinned and quickly shot three arrows at Prismix's legs, forcing him to stumble onto one knee. The king yelled in pain and covered his eyes with his hands.
Kahito and Mi Lai had arrived.
"Took you long enough," Keira called out, running to Kahito's side.
"Well, you were on a horse and we were running, so we allowed you and Reo to play a little," Kahito replied with a smile. He glanced at Yakuso and Reo—his smile faded.
"Why doesn't that boy ever listen? Please tell me he's still alive."
"For the most part, yeah. But Hunda has her work cut out for her," Keira answered.
"That's... acceptable." Kahito shrugged.
"Um... guys, is that Prismix? If so, he's not down yet," Mi Lai warned.
Ahead of them, Prismix was pulling arrows from his leg and slowly rising.
"Judging from the damage he's taken, he's on his last legs. He's bleeding, exhausted, and close to crashing," Kahito analyzed. "Keira, any notes?"
"Yeah. His blessing gives him those scales. Anything that hits them does nothing. I've been aiming for the gaps, but he keeps blocking, so the shots barely hurt him," Keira reported.
"Alright. From the blunt-force marks around the room, I'd say he also has enhanced strength. We cannot let him attack. Mi Lai, stay back—I need constant firepower on him. Don't let up for a second. Keira, I'll support your shots," Kahito ordered. "And remember—whatever happens, do NOT let him hit you."
Keira and Mi Lai nodded. Standing by the entrance, Mi Lai thrust his hands forward and unleashed a massive column of fire. Prismix raised an arm to block, but immediately dropped to one knee. Mi Lai's fire was far hotter than Yakuso's; the heat seeped through Prismix's scales and into his skin, burning him.
"Another blessing of fire? That makes no sense!" the king screamed.
A flashbang burst in his face, disorienting him.
"Too hot for you, Your Majesty?" Keira's voice rang from the frenzy, followed by three twangs of arrows striking his back.
BANG!
Another flash of light.
"You down yet, Prismix? Wave twice if you can hear me!" Keira shouted from another angle, another rain of arrows chasing her voice.
The searing heat, the bright flashes, the cold arrows, the choking soot. It was too much. It infuriated the king. It enraged Prismix. It angered—
His gaze dropped to a chunk of rubble behind him. Large enough to hurt someone. Small enough to throw.
It was enough.
Prismix dove out of the firestorm and barrel-rolled across the floor. Mi Lai kept the flames sweeping side-to-side, hoping to hit him, but smoke clouded his vision.
Then he heard it.
A cry of pain from Keira. It ended as soon as it began.
"MI LAI, RUN! GO! GET AWAY FROM HER—" Kahito yelled from the smoke, but the shout was cut short by a harsh grunt.
"Kahito? Keira? Guys? GUYS!" Mi Lai yelled, face draining of color.
THUD.
He fell to the ground. Pain exploded in his abdomen. He clutched the spot. Warm crimson coated his fingers. Something smooth and solid pressed against his palm. He didn't know what it was—only that his consciousness was fading.
Through the smoke, a figure appeared. Prismix. Tall. Burly. His teal scales glowed faintly in the haze.
Before Mi Lai slipped into darkness, one truth cut through his panic:
This man was evil. Pure evil.
Prismix stood over the frail boy. "The obsidian won't kill you. I don't plan to—yet. However, my mercy doesn't extend to the prince. He needs to die." The king staggered toward Yakuso's limp body, bloody arrows protruding from his back. His scales had faded, and his body trembled subtly.
Then he froze.
The air shifted—dense, eerie, powerful. For the first time in years, he felt fear. He turned toward the doorway.
At the entrance, finger pressed to her lips, stood Hunda.
"Adva Teleia," Prismix muttered, his face convulsing in fear.
"Shhh," Hunda shushed.
The sound carried, hard.
A powerful shockwave hurled Prismix into the wall and shattered all the glass in the throne room. The smoky atmosphere cleared instantly.
"Oh dear," Hunda whispered to herself. As the haze lifted, the bodies of her siblings sprawled across the room became visible, their blood staining the obsidian floor. "Thank God they're still alive," she muttered.
From below, she could hear footsteps pounding and metal clanging together. A lot of people were coming. Dangerous people.
She immediately got to work.
She stopped the bleeding from her siblings and gathered them in one spot. Next, using one of Keira's arrows, she cut herself across the palm and clenched her fist.
The noises were getting closer.
A lot of blood dripped from her fist—far more than should have come out. Then it stopped. She nodded; that was more than enough.
She willed some of the blood into a crimson board. She used the remaining blood to form tight cords and fastened her siblings to the board. She positioned it to face one of the large, broken windows.
Her breath steadied; the footsteps were almost here.
She curled her bleeding hand into a fist and whispered into it. The sound didn't leave her lips; it folded inward, building pressure until the air strained.
Now.
She punched downward.
The whisper detonated in a violent shockwave, blasting the mat forward and hurling them across the corridor. Wind tore at her hair as she scrambled onto the back of the board.
The soldiers burst into view just as she drew in one sharp breath.
She screamed—not loud, but focused.
A narrow sonic blast erupted behind the board shooting them forward like a large arrow in the sky. She screamed again. And again. Each burst became an engine propelling them far away from the enemy, from the palace, from Emönæ.
Trees blurred. The world stretched.
And by the time the pursuers reached the throne room, she and her siblings were already gone—a crimson streak carried into the wild by blood and sound.