It was a cold night. The mystic’s fate lay before her. The cult of Blessed torture was more of a risk than anyone wanted to believe. Sei doubted her. He doubted her judgment. He believed her little more than a naïve child with illusions of grandeur. Her unlikely ally was her only hope, a once-hated enemy who now seemed to be the solution to all of life’s complications. Lye would direct her, she would end the Cult’s hold on her past, and she would move forward.

Or- she would never make it out of the Cult’s base. She would never again see the face of Sei or her sisters.

How did it come to this?

Kyla was ready to accept her fate, but first there was something she needed to do.

She entered the small cavern, seemingly untouched since her journey here years ago. Sophia’s remains were still huddled in the corner. Kyla closed her eyes and remembered the day she took her first life. Sophia had been brave, she had been stubborn, she had been everything Kyla used to be. If not for Sei’s impact, Sophie could have been Kyla. Her face would never leave the Mystic’s mind, and her glove, Sophia’s Mane, had never left her arm.

Now, going into battle with the Cult of Blessed Torture, the Mystic could not risk the powerful weapon in the hands of the lunatics. She would have to leave it behind. The glove was more powerful than anyone knew, it seemed a trinket of someone of wealth, but it held the secrets of warriors. Sophia’s Mane could contain the soul of anyone it touched. Every person whose skin had been pierced by the blade left a piece of themselves within. While it seemed impossible to return those people to life, the possibility made the glove dangerous in the wrong hands.

It would sit in the cave until the end of days, nothing more than a reminder to the world that once these people lived.

The girl smiled, her duty complete. Now, her final battle could begin.