"My boy."

"Hang on, father. We'll get you fixed up."

"Youknowyoucould...neverlie tome, son."

I take it back. I take it all back. Every life, every cut, every wave of pain I've caused others – whether they deserved it or not – I take it back. I'll take every ounce of it back if it means he can stay. I'll carve out my heart, I'll slit my throat - I'll do anything that I need to do to keep him. I lost mom. I lost Rose. I can't lose my father. I can't lose the only friend that I've had since day one - I can't.

"Please stay," I beg him and anyone who's listening. I'll beg for the rest of my life if I must.

"You're stronger than I ever imagined you to be." His words rid of the slur, but that's never a relief when someone's dying. I should know.

"Dad..."

"You never once failed me...no matter what I said or did...there wasn't a single second...where I wasn't proud of the person you were becoming...of the person...you are now." Choking on his own blood, he raises both his hands to my face, and the feeling of his blood on my face...

"Don't leave me too."

"I won't."

"Promise me."

"I...I promise." My chest caves with the knowledge that this is the one promise he won't be able to keep, and he was the one to teach us to always keep our promises. "I love...love you - son."

"Lance." Fauna's voice is barely more than a whisper, and put my hand on top of his own, pleading to every God and Saint to let him stay. I know what she's going to say. Death's own hand has been touching my shoulder since we turned the corner, but now it's insistent. It hurts rather than simply lying there, a reminder of what lingers by even though I know what's to come. I know what's coming - what has been coming since I saw him pinned to the wall. I knew that there was no saving him, but I just couldn't accept it. Not with him.

"You both remind me so much of your mother," he whispers, bringing his other hand to Fauna's face where she too presses her own over his. "You were never born to be soft and quiet. You were born to make the world shudder beneath your feet."

And just like that, his hands fall from my fingertips, and the light in his eyes goes out.

This is the problem with the world. It takes and takes, giving you the materials to live another day, only there's no guarantee you'll be here the next. The Gods and the wealthy live atop their luxury while the poor grow and make their food and design the clothes they themselves can't afford. And when one of us dies, only the loved ones are the people who suffer. This world has taken everything but my sister from me. They tortured my mother, stabbed my love, and shot my father. They've taken and taken, never once thinking about what their actions would unleash.

Well, they'll find out soon enough. The Jade King is dead. My father is dead. Grief is a terrible thing, but rage is worse.

I can feel as the killing calm settles within me. It's like a blanket being thrown over your head, only instead of covering your senses it heightens it. I can hear every clash of a blade, every cry of the fallen. I can taste my father's blood, feel it the leftover heat of it that cools slowly falls down my neck. The amount wrath boiling inside of me is a force to contend with, and with their mistake of drawing blood in my house, in my family, so am I.

They've killed my father. They've made that abyss inside of me awaken, swallowing every last drop of kindness into its lightless depths, and now I'm entirely empty. I feel empty. I have no love left to give, no angel on my shoulder to tell me to see the bright way out. They wanted a war, they wanted to see the killers they've heard so many rumors about, but they didn't get that. They got something far worse. Something the Gods themselves will come to fear, and something that will make the world shudder beneath their feet.

Fauna and I lock stares, the killing calm already settled in her dark glossy eyes, no tear falling anymore, and itching to be let out. Pulling the balaclavas back over our faces, we stand from our father's still warm body, and walk out of the office. Jades and Cressidian fight on the ground floor and stairs. At least the number of dead Jades are less than the Cressidian.

They have taken a life from us. Now, we will take their lives in return. My vision blurs on everything but the Cressidian, my mind focusing on the yellow capes they wear with such pride. We turn from the railing and begin our storm. I take out one with a jab at the back of his neck, a vertical swing of Fauna's arm cuts the throat of another. One by one, with a single cut, a single hit of our blades, the Cressidian don't stand a chance. We have watched our father die with their arrow in his chest, and now they want us to surrender? Blasted idiots are all going to the Underworld.

As we reach the bottom of the steps, six Jades at our back, everyone before us stops their fighting to look at us. We don't hesitate. We launch ourselves onto the nearest assassins. I let the killing calm take over. Let my grieve and skills move my muscles into action. I let everything - every fiber of emotion - pour out of me. I feel the pain of my mother's loss, the anger from Rose's, and the emptiness of my father's flowing through me like blood in my veins. I've lived through every spectrum of pain one could name. I've cried more times and longer than one could think possible. I would cry myself to sleep or to sickness. My world has been ruined and torn from my hands, and it is down to me and my sister to now find a way to stay standing when the ground is being pulled out from under us.

Falling like the leaves in autumn, the Cressidian assassins charge at us all at once. The Jades move to get in on the attack but I order them to stand down and leave them to us. Two reasons for that: Fey and I aren't in a sharing-caring mood. Secondly, too many of us have died tonight, we don't need to lose any more.

I feel like a whirlwind of steel, spinning, ducking, twisting...our father taught us how to fight. He taught us how to throw knives and how to take someone out without them. He gave us what we need to stay alive, knowing that his knowledge wouldn't save his own life. He never trained with us, only instructed, and I'll die before I let those lessons go to waste Pushing off the wall, I jump onto the shoulders of a man and swing my upper body down and then back up forcing him on the ground. A swipe of my blade and his neck is bleeding. I'm already turning, throwing a knife right into the chest of a man about to attack Fauna. At the same time, she throws one behind me. The only thing telling me that her hit landed true is a grunt and thud of a body hitting the ground. There's one more Cressidians standing. A tall, muscular, and angry-looking man. Together, Fauna and I walk to the man standing in the doorway and finish our offense.

The mammoth swings a hefty fist, but hefty means slow, and slow means an easy target. Ducking, Fauna swings her leg into the back of one knee forcing him to kneel. Catching his arm, I grab the back of the mammoth's head, bringing my knee up to meet his head. A loud crunch sounds from the impact, and before the mammoth can recover, I kick him square in the chest, sending him tumbling down the keep's steps.

As we make our descent on the steps, my eyes catch on something on the roof of the building in front of us. I look up, finding the silhouette of a dark cloaked figure standing out against the moonlit sky. I don't need to see his face to know who it is. His shoulders are still wide, his stance still the same since the last I saw him. I'm about to chase after him when movement catches my eye again and instinct has me dodging to the left to avoid being socked. Fauna digs into his thigh with a long knife, and taking his hesitation, I grab the giant's head and look him straight in the eye.

"Say hello to Helias for me." I snap his neck, letting him fall to the ground.

I stare at the dead mammoth before me, not feeling at all satisfied with the number of lives I've claimed. When I look at Fauna, the same thought is running through her eyes. It's not enough. The death of our father is nothing compared to the number of lives we just took. Our father was the heart and soul of the Jade Assassins. The men we just cut down like trees are mere pawns of the game. I look back to the roof, but as expected, Will's gone. There's no point in trying to track him and chase him down. He's long gone, and he wouldn't have left a clue as to where he was going unless he wanted us to follow. In that case, it'd be a trap. A practical suicide assignment.

Turning back to the House of Jade, I find the remaining Jades standing on the steps and filling the doorway. Their clothes are slick with blood and rain, our cloaks keeping us from the same fate. They know. You can see it in their eyes that they know he's is dead, and they know what comes next. With a glance at me, Fauna walks to them and takes her place among them. Still standing in the rain, a bloody blade in my hand, she looks at me with sodden eyes, and speaks the vow.

"In loyalty and in trust, I offer my life to you, son of the fallen Jade King." She puts right fist over her heart and takes a knee, head bowing.

The Jades behind her follow suit, both in a farewell to my father and a welcome to me. They don't kneel for theatrics or formality, but for the love and respect of the new Jade King. For me.

It twists the knife already lodged in my chest.

Fauna walked off to go retrieve whatever it is our father left her. Trying to remember all those lessons he taught me about running the House of Jade without punching something or someone, I attempt at trying to restore order in the bloody halls. Men began dragging fallen Jades inside the house and the Cressidian out on the front lawn. The death is already beginning to smell up the rooms. The warm blood covering my hands and face from my...tantrum, is starting to dry. Though I had been standing in the rain, there's just too much to be washed off easily. Plus, the feel of it is keeping myself from tearing down a wall or running through town trying to find more bodies to bury.

Father both hated and loved it when Fauna and I slipped into the killing calm. He applauded at the skill and utter lack of hesitation it brought, but he could never look us in the eye when we were under. Knowing him, he probably felt like every time we're like this, that he somehow created our demons rather than helping us defeat them. I still think it's because of the look in our eyes. The distant look that makes you think that they should be entirely black. I loved my father despite the things he made me and the skills he's taught us. His eyes were hard and cold, but his heart was made of gold. He would teach us to defend ourselves so that when he did leave, we wouldn't be vulnerable and defenseless. He calloused my hands so that when someone else needed defending, I could be the one to provide them with it. His lessons and harsh words were so that when I heard the rumors and names they called me, I would brush them off rather than collapse beneath them. He made me stronger, and strong is how I will stand from this day on.

"Who's left of the staff?" I ask Caleb, the third in command.

"Not many. There are two healers left. Seven Jades killed, three wounded badly. Cook is still alive, but the rest of her staff is diminished. Five servants are dead, and the body count for the Cressidians is three times our own."

I nod distantly, not doing the math. "Good. Have whatever trainees we have go help the healers with the wounded. If they need supplies, get it. The dead need to be tended to as well. Get whoever can stomach it to clean them up and carry them to their families."

"And those who live elsewhere?"

"Send word of their loss, and have their blades sent with it. Polish them before they're sent."

"Of course."

"Every sentinel and assassin who can stand is to be posted throughout the house in Code Midnight within the hour. I don't want any more surprises. Get the remaining servants a few extra hands to wipe the stains, and have the order for the candles sent out. The ceremony happens in three days."

"Alright." I can tell he wants to say something, but he's smart and changes the subject. "What of the warning call?"

Shit, I nearly forgot about the fire. "Keep the flame lit and send word to those across the land. The Jade King has fallen, return home at once."

He nods once. "They'll be out within the hour."

"Thank you, Caleb."

Taken aback by my tanks, he hesitates before putting his hand across his chest. I have to clench my jaw to keep myself from snapping at him that the sign of respect was his, not mine. "My pleasure."

Before he can apologize for the death of my father, I walk toward the stairs. I stop at the top step and look down at the commotion. Men and women moving bodies, trainees running around helping wherever they can and trying not to puke at the gore. The remaining servants are already trudging in buckets and towels toward the main blood puddles, and the sentinels are directing the rest of the Jades to their posts. Every one of them are following the orders I've given, the orders my father would've given. They do it without a second thought, each ignoring the blood on their own clothes as I am. They've seen death tonight, and they'll likely smell it for the next few days until the stench is blown out by the outside wind. Their dreams will be plagued, and by morning they'll be expected to continue on with their new tasks at getting the house back in order and in preparation for the last farewell of the fallen.

Gods just thinking about the idea of having to both start and end the Dirge of the Jades is agonizing. For my whole life I've heard it in my father's voice, now I must learn to hear it in mine. It's no wonder Fauna's voice cracked when she sang our mother's song a few hours ago. It feels more like years ago, but that's what it was. Mere hours.

When you've been handed the task at continuing on their legacy, you can't help but feel like you're not worthy of it. Even if you are worthy, you still know the difference between your voice and theirs, and that's the harrowing part.

Not wanting to be approached, I turn left instead of right and go to find my sister. The night has been long but we still have a job to do, and as much as it pains me to say it, it's not keeping this building from falling. I make sure to let my footsteps echo in the hall. Father left something for my sister specifically, and until she decides to tell me what it is, I think it best to let it stay hidden with her. He left her something personal and he left me what he made from his bare hands. To have to live with that is more complicated than it sounds.

The door to her room is already open, but I stop in the doorway anyway.

"Tired already?" she asks walking to me. There's nothing in her hands, but if she heard me coming, she likely hid it somewhere in her bodice before I entered.

"We need to get back."

"Your footsteps were heavy."

I nod, leading us back through the hall and down the stairs. "They were heavy because I wanted them to be."

"Excuses, excuses." Her usual teasing voice is gone, still stuck behind the wall of the killing calm and its dead tone. "You should stay here you know."

"Rykiel can handle it while I'm gone. Gods know he has more experience."

Rykiel is – was, our father's right-hand man. He wasn't always directly at our father's side, but everyone knew it. We call him The Shadow. He has a skill for blending in anywhere and everywhere. It's entirely unsettling. I mean you mention the guy's name and-

"If you wish it, it shall be done." Both Fauna and I jump at the sound of Rykiel's voice. He's the only one that can scare us.

"Saints. You know I hate it when you do that," Fauna says, putting a hand to her chest.

His jet-black hair peeks out from under his hood. He's got chocolate eyes and tanned skin you don't see unless he takes off his hood. "Hence why I did it."

"Bastard."

"Leaving already?" he inquires to me, completely ignoring Fey.

I nod, returning us to our brisk pace down the stairs. "Father gave us an assignment, I intend to finish it."

"As you should."

Rykiel follows us out to the front lawn. Dead bodies and their blood now cover the grass like water. This was our assignment. This is every Jade's assignment. To protect and defend the only home we've known. Both Fauna and I failed to protect our only home, now we protect the shelter that home created.

"We'll be back in three days for the ceremony," I tell him. "In the meantime, you should have every capable Jade on watch."

"And the bodies?" Rykiel asks looking down a man with his stomach falling out. My bad.

"They wanted to make a statement, make a statement." I follow Fauna down the steps and out of the gates. "Hang them on the gates."

I can still feel the killing calm itching toward my daggers, maybe if I run it off I'll be less likely to snap a guard's neck. She seems to have the same idea and picks up her pace to start running.

*****

Turns out running around a city late at night where no one but stupid drunks are doing stupid things, is not a good way to stop yourself from grabbing a dagger and throwing it at one of their heads. Fauna may or may have not done that twice now to two idiots who tried forcing a girl against a wall. Don't worry, I got both her blades back.

We found two Assassins of Cressida both injured and huddled in an alleyway. They really should be more self-aware of their voice volume when they're in enemy territory. Though I'm sure Will couldn't care less if another two of his useless men fall. That's the problem with Will. He's only using the Assassins of Cressida for their blood. He thinks them expendable, only training them so that they don't pick up on his bigger plans and to give them some hope. Will has always had a nag for the naïve, I'm proof of that. He gives you strength but not too much, and then he stabs you in the back when you least expect it. That's how he's lived and that's how my father trained him to be. The perfect weapon is hidden in plain sight.

Always be careful of the creatures you create, for if they end up demons, they will come back to bite you in the butt.

Oh, father. If only you listened to your own advice and let me kill Will when I had the chance. Gods. Will this and Will that. Will, Will, Will. Well will someone please tell the Gods that whatever game their playing is complete bullshit!

We reach the outer walls, guards stationed closer together on the top. At least I was right about them knowing how to easily make the adjustments. Will just murdered my father in cold blood, attacked the House of Jade, killed Jades, and walked away without a single scratch. Now he's just waltzing around the town looking for his next target. Probably already testing out the weakest spots to get through.

"I'll get to the Queen," I say as we run up the castle steps.

"Meet me downstairs in thirty." She turns toward the Moonrise Tower before I can answer, but I give her a nod nonetheless.