After years of traveling, I became used to the noise, the shenanigans. I have dragged myself out of bed to break up fights from hungover friends more times than I could count. Rozarth and Balton were always getting into trouble of some sort, and the rest of us would get dragged into it. But, waking up to silence like this, I assumed they were sleeping in or had left the little pocket dimension I created for our travels. It didn’t matter how long the six of us had been friends — we got tired of each other sooner or later.

I decided to walk across the realm to check on the others, investigate the silence. Maro sat in his room, checking over his sword and shield for damages after yesterday's adventure. Encanus was still curled up in bed sound asleep, his bow leaned against the foot of the bed. Balton was rewrapping the bandages on his wounds; he didn’t like using healing spells unless it was a deadly blow. When I entered the kitchen, Audrick sat at the table reading a book, waiting for everyone else to eventually make their way to the table.

“Weird … ” I thought aloud.

 Audrick looked up. “Is something wrong?”

“I haven’t seen Rozarth this morning,” I responded, sitting down across from him.

“You think she went to the bar after we went to sleep?” he asked, glancing between me and his book.

I shook my head. “I don’t think so. She seemed tired.”

“She’s one of the most stubborn people I know. She never looks tired,” he said.

“Now that I think about it, she’s been a bit different these last few missions.”

He closed his book and sat it down. “I mean, I can’t blame her. She doesn’t have the best reputation compared to the rest of us.”

Audrick was right. Rozarth had always been the black sheep of the Divine Warriors. When I met her, she was very closed off and strongly feared. I didn’t get a very good first impression, but our initial squabble didn’t last long. Rozarth’s divine title wasn’t any better: The Destroyer. She fought hard and played dirty. It was like there were no rules of combat if she was on the field. During our first mission as the Divine Warriors, she was the only one who could keep up with me enough to fight the dragon head-on. However, despite how well she did, all people saw was the destruction left in her wake.

Still, there was something nagging at me. The cold and distant side of her that most people saw wasn’t how she was with us. Rozarth was caring, protective and a bit of a jokester. Her comments could get mean, but she never went overboard. She tried not to let what people said get to her. Though, to be fair, it didn’t always work.

“Esty, relax,” Audrick leaned over and flicked my forehead. “If something was wrong, I’m sure she’d tell you.”

“I want to believe you. I want to believe you so badly, but there’s something in my gut telling me she’s hiding something.”

“Well, you know her best. Where would she go?” he inquired.

‍

‍

I didn’t answer him, but I knew where.

The forest was empty in mid-winter. Trees sat barren while a blanket of snow covered the ground. I walked with a steady pace, the rhythmic sound of crunching snow filling my ears. It was easier to see with the sun high above my head. I hadn’t been back since we met more than a decade ago. Of all of the first interactions with my fellow Divine Warriors, I remembered Rozarth's best. Perhaps I remembered it more clearly due to our squabble, or maybe it was my words to her: “Well then, Rozarth, I look forward to our adventures together.”

It didn’t take long to find her. I could hear the sound of a sword slashing at a sturdy tree and followed it to her. The tree was massacred by the dark blade of the sword swinging violently, angrily.

I quietly walked close. “Ro?”

Rozarth straightened her posture, turning to look at me. “What do you want?” Her voice was harsh, low, as sharp as her sword.

 “I just … ” I glanced around, searching for the best words. “I wanted to check on you. You seem … off.”

She tucked her sword into the sheath on her belt and cleared her throat. “I’m fine, Esty.” Her bright blue eyes danced from tree to tree. Eventually, she stopped on the tree she had been destroying a minute prior, but our gaze never met.

“Look at me.”

Her eyes didn’t move from the tree.

“Rozarth, look at me.”

“Would you stop telling me what to do?!” She finally looked me in the eye, her voice raising with seething anger. “Gods, ever since we started the Divine Warriors, it's always been about you! Estora The Matron, the savior of the people! And what am I? I’m the villain, the pest, The Destroyer.”

“Is that what you think you are? A pest?” I inquired softly, cautiously stepping towards her. “You’re one of the strongest people I know. Do you know what I see when I look at you? I see a strong, brave warrior who’s been through a lot. I see someone who despite everything still wants to do good, someone who fights like hell for those she loves.”

She stayed silent for a moment, narrowing her gaze at me. “Is that all I am to you? A warrior?”

“What? No, no, that’s not what I — ”

“I’m not your friend?!” Rozarth hissed, cutting me off. “I’m not a person? I’m just a weapon?!”

I could feel my anger rising to match her’s, but I took a deep breath and continued calmly. “You’re more than just a weapon and a warrior. You’re my friend, my partner! I have never loved someone like I love you … I’m sorry if I haven’t said that enough.”

She paused and took a deep breath before approaching. I looked up at her, our faces inches from each other. Rozarth leaned in to kiss me, her demeanor softening from the rage she had expressed only minutes before. My hesitation faded as my body slowly relaxed — I leaned into the kiss as she wrapped an arm around my waist.

“Oh Estora,” she spoke softly, cupping my face with her free hand. “I don’t believe you.” Without time to react, her hand lifted to grab my hair, and she threw me into the cold snow.

‍

‍

I never quite realized how cold snow is until then. It stuck to my clothes and in between my curls. The cold sank into my skin. My head pounded against my skull as I stood, the trees slowly coming back into focus.

And that’s when I realized I was alone. Rozarth was gone.

No. No, no, no. NO!

I frantically reached for my necklace, which I had haphazardly shoved into my pocket that morning. I pictured the kitchen in our home base: the cluttered countertops, glowing hearth and aromatic herbs. The small magic-filled stone glowed a soft blue before opening the teleport gate leading back to our pocket realm.

As soon as my feet hit solid ground, I was off. Rooms blurred together as I ran by. Bits of snow fell and left a trail behind me. I darted to the end of the hall, barely skidding to a stop at the doors of the meeting room. I pushed the large double doors open; they hit the walls with a loud thwack. 

Four heads turned in my direction, four faces riddled with confusion, their four chairs nearly falling over as they all stood.

“Gods, Estora, you look like a disaster,” Balton scoffed, uncrossing his arms and resting his palms against the table.

Maro raised an eyebrow at me curiously. “A morning adventure without us?”

“You’re freezing,” Encanus scurried over, pulled me further into the room and closed the door. He placed his cloak around my shoulders. “Why were you out there?”

“Guys,” they turned around to look at Audrick, who gently pushed them away as he approached. “Let her breathe.”

I shoved the cloak off, my heart still racing. “Where’s my sword?”

“What?” Encanus asked, a puzzled look on his face.

“My sword! Where is it?!”

Maro grabbed my sword from the weapon rack and brought it over to me.

I went to snatch it from him, but Audrick pulled me back. “Slow down, take a deep breath and tell us what happened.”

I didn’t want to, but I listened. I took a deep breath in, held it for a few seconds, then exhaled slowly. I gently grabbed my sword from Maro. The slim, golden hilt had a curved, detailed guard around it; it fit perfectly in my hand. My reflection gazed back at me in the polished metal of the thin blade.

I lowered my weapon to my side and raised my eyes back up to my friends. “Rozarth ran off, and I think she’ll try coming back here to fight us.”

“Are you sure? That seems extreme, even for her,” Encanus said.

“I don’t know, she can be a loose cannon at times,” Balton commented, straightening his posture.

I shot him a glare. “Not like this. This was … new. It was different.” I thought back to all of the things she had said. The words echoed in my mind, repeating over and over. Thinking of it made my skin burn, like I was standing in acid rain.

Maro placed a hand on my shoulder, bringing my mind back to the present. He leaned over slightly, meeting my eye level. “Tell us what to do, and we’ll follow your orders.”

“Her stuff in her room. She won’t be able to fight all of us without — ”

BANG!

Once again, the doors blew wide open, and smoke billowed in. The doors were quickly burned to ash, and I could barely make out the figure who stood between them. Black soot covered every inch of her leather breastplate and arm guards she wore in every battle. Strands of hair that normally fell in her face were now pulled back in braids, except a few small strands that stuck to the sweat on her forehead. The only light I could see was from the raging purple flames that engulfed her sword.

“Too late, Divine Warriors,” Rozarth spat. “This is war.”

‍

‍

My ears rang as I regained my consciousness. I found myself laying on the cold tile floor of the meeting room; a layer of smoke lingered above me. The crackling fire was gone. Broken glass and fallen pillars laid along the floor, stained with blood and ash. I could hear quiet chattering from the familiar voices of my companions. Sitting up slowly, I felt my spine ache like it had been snapped in half and haphazardly put back together. Each vertebrate slowly stacked onto the next like building blocks clicking together. A soft hand grazed against my back, keeping me from falling back down.

“Don’t push yourself. You’re lucky to be alive,” Audrick muttered, crouched at my side. He gave me a small, tired smile.

As he spoke, the other Divine Warriors approached. The first was Encanus, who appeared unharmed aside from bloodied fingertips from the constant firing of his bow. His quiver was empty, a sight I had never seen. Next to him was Balton. His armor had been dented and damaged, some parts distorted from the heat of Rozarth’s purple flames. Maro walked behind them tiredly. He gave a sigh of relief when his eyes landed on me. What was left of his armor was charred and unrepairable. Maro’s exposed skin was covered in gashes, an open cut dripping blood from his cheek.

Maro kneeled in front of me. “Do you remember what happened?"

“Yeah. Ro slammed me into that pillar. I fell, blacked out. What the hell happened to you?” I diverted the conversation and reached my hand to his face. Magic slowly flowed to my fingertips, and the open gash on his cheek closed up.

He smiled softly, but it quickly faded away. “I did my job.”

“I mean yeah, but — ”

“But nothing,” Balton cut in, his voice stern and serious. “We’re warriors, we defeat threats, and that is what we did.”

It took a moment for me to piece everything together. Without hesitation, I rose to my feet. Having a better view of the room, I quickly scanned my surroundings, and my heart cracked at the sight.

The once-beautiful meeting room was unrecognizable. The round wooden table and grand chairs had been reduced to nothing. Stained glass windows that told of the rise of the Divine Warriors now scattered in shades of red; it now told the story of our fall. The grand white pillars had varying levels of damage. Some stood tall, with designs chipped and ash that would be fixable. One pillar in particular was split in half, blood pooling underneath where the split was.

The moment replayed in my head. My sword had slipped from my hands, and Rozarth had taken the opportunity to attack. I hit the pillar hard and heard the sounds of stone cracking behind me. The hit disorientated my magic; the levitation spell failed. As I hit the ground, a blur of fighting erupted, but I blacked out before I was able to register what had happened.

But now, taking in the aftermath, I saw her corpse. She laid where the table once was, with a thin, bloodied sword skewered into her chest.

By the gods ... that’s my sword.

Maro placed his hand on my shoulder, “Estora, breathe.”

“You killed her.”

“I did.”

“With my sword.”

“Yes.”

I wanted to look at him. I wanted to yell and scream and cry, to find something that wasn’t already broken and shatter it into a thousand tiny pieces. Every fiber of my being was holding on for dear life. I wanted to mourn.

Instead, my gaze stayed fixed on the sword. I carefully made my way to her, narrowly avoiding the glass shards littering the floor. I couldn’t look at her. Quickly, I removed my sword, wiped the blood away, and turned back to my living companions. Their expressions were blank, eyes fixed in my direction. Even though it was silent, all I could feel was their pity bubbling inside.

I took a deep breath. “We should start cleaning. This place is a disaster.”