Dust hovered like a snow globe in denial: too heavy to float, too proud to fall. The office air was thick with stale smoke. A rank sweat coated the forehead of the gaunt man behind the desk, crimson gems glistening beneath the fingers twitching at his cuffs. He was the kind of rich who showed his wealth. He wanted to be the kind that didn’t care.

Geothermal flames smoldered inside a chamber to his back, chiseled brick giving way to polished slate. While the green-tinted embers added the perfect eerie glow, the weather made even a light coat overkill. Heat waves distorted the air around him.

Malric leaned forward, palm pressed against charred wood grain. A bead of sweat dripped from the end of the misshapen lump on the front of his nose and landed in the valley between his knuckles. He pretended not to notice, that was half of politics anyway. “No unnecessary stops on the way. You will meet the transport team near the Southwestern Edge. Is that simple enough?” 

A figure was slumped in the rickety chair before him, partially obscured by shadow. A sigh wafted through the air as they turned their attention to the mess of a man before them. “How do you do it?”

Malric’s face shifted through the five stages of confusion before resigning himself to this game of cat and mouse once again. “Do what?” 

The figure leaned forward, leather boots thumping on the ground. The emerald firelight danced across their face, unveiling soft cheeks framed in dense brown waves, frizzled by the heat.

“Any of this! It’s so damn hot!” She swung her arm, gesturing at the room. “You’re wearing at least three layers. I would worry about heat stroke if I were you-”

Malric slammed his fist on the desk, jostling a parcel sitting in the center. If time slowed down, she would have noticed the brief moment of concern as Malric glanced at the package. Alas, she couldn’t slow time and, therefore, was none-the-wiser. 

Toying with him was easy entertainment. Despite his status, Ryn found it hard to despise the puny-minded man. Luck of birth put him above her, but he desperately clung to the rung. No, there were bigger fish worthy of her rage.

He glared down at her like a disapproving parent, the kind who forgets birthdays, spits your name like a curse, and still takes credit when you succeed. “Do you understand the instructions I’ve given you or not?” 

She rolled her eyes and haphazardly grabbed the package, “Yes, I got it. Instead of using good ol’ public transport out of the here I need to hike my ass to the middle of nowhere.”  

He groaned and dug the tips of his fingers into the hardwood desk. “I told you, this requires a level of discretion public eyes cannot provide. It will be simple.” 

Gravel crunched underfoot, cutting through the memory like paper. The morning’s conversation echoed in her head as she continued through the rugged slopes. She questioned whether this would be worth the money, and why she hadn’t wondered that sooner. What good was getting out of debt if she didn’t live to enjoy it.

The path she wandered down ended in a sheer drop, not ideal. Ryn crawled on her hands and knees to assess the situation. Peering over the edge she could confidently say that, scientifically speaking, she was sure it was enough to release her from her mortal coils. However, she decided she quite liked hanging on to those and inched back. 

She weighed her options and settled on a narrower, more gradual slope. Far less likely to lead to death. Fortunately, she was correct in her judgement of the slope. Unfortunately, she was incorrect in her judgement of herself. Ryn slipped with the grace of a drunken goat, gravity all too eager to help.

She opened her eyes to the empty sky. Her ears rang while her vision came into focus. For a moment, she was stuck like a turtle, gasping for air. A minute stretched into eternity before she could sit up. Stars danced in her vision, brighter than the midday sun. 

Her brain throbbed against the back of her eyes. Jagged pebbles dug into her skin, wet from weeping tears. A low, layered growl moved through the stone. Too alive to be thunder.

She couldn’t catch her breath before the force of a hundred men slammed into her chest, launching her into the slate wall. Panic flared. Was this it? Was she going to die halfway to a payday she barely agreed to?

She wheezed, tastebuds overwhelmed by a metallic tang, and blinked. Shadows became fur, teeth, and muscle; a silhouette beyond any logic she possessed. Massive jaws expanded from dual hinges. Fear closed her throat as another arm was barreling down on her. The air condensed, static clinging to her hair. She winced, patiently waiting her impending doom.

A gurgling crunch erupted from below, answered by a wet thud. Then… nothing. 

The silence that followed could rival death. 

A few seconds passed wondering why she wasn’t dead yet. Finally, she dared to open an eye. The beast, or what was left of it, had been impaled. 

The entire core of its body was gone; a cleaner cut than any valtenir steel. Heat radiated from within, distorting the air in noxious waves.

Blood poured from the cavity into a crater that hadn’t existed a moment ago. The stone glowed red, cooling into smooth, iridescent obsidian.

Pupils dilated, erasing her irises. She slumped forward, brain stuttering through the scene like a broken record.  

Voices drifted past her ears as the world closed in.

“—over there—”

Blood sizzled against the stone.