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“What do you mean by that?” My lungs struggled to get enough air.

I’m sure Gennel had something to do with that as well, making the air heavy and limited in this close space.

I couldn't see it, but I was almost positive there was a sphere of his influence around us that he was manipulating the water in.

Too bad for him there was not much water in this hot land to use.

Gennel rubbed his jaw and turned his head to spit out a glob of blood. He must have bitten his tongue with the last blow. “My family has been looking for you for a long time, Haron. Or rather… Princept Morrette Hilj. ”

So, the day has finally come. “Color me impressed,” I snapped. “I suppose you won’t be going into detail with your villainous monologue, will you?”

“Fucking spare me! The villain here is you, you fucking abomination!”

He lunged again, but I anticipated his emotional outburst and slid to the side just enough to step inside his left side.

My blade swept across his chest as he passed by, and I spun out and away to face Gennel again.

I knew it wasn’t a fatal cut. The blade didn’t have that satisfying feeling of cutting through soft flesh.

It had scraped against something dense, like trying to cut a slab of rock.

Briefly, I glanced down to check if the sword’s edge had been damaged.

It looked fine, so I gathered Gennel did something with his hydromancy to protect himself from being cut.

He whirled to face me again, and his secret was revealed in the gaping slash of his shirt.

The complete shock I felt manifested in a barked laugh. “Looks like we both kept our secrets close to our chest… my lady .”

Where my blade had cut what I thought was skin wavered like a disturbed puddle.

And beneath the watery layer was the thin cloth wraps of a chest binding.

A binding that I was very familiar with in my old life, when I kept my breasts pressed tight to keep them out of the way of sword fighting and social expectations.

The fact that Highlan Gennel Rhen—supposed treasurer of all the male-run guilds in Gilamorst, and a noble on top of that—was a woman in disguise was the most twisted irony I could imagine. If she weren’t trying to actively kill me, I would even applaud the deception.

Gennel huffed and scraped loose hair back from her snarling face. “It will not be an issue for long, because you’re not leaving this alley alive.”

The air grew heavier, to the point condensation began to collect on my exposed skin and soak through my clothes.

It was starting to weigh me down, so I tossed the leather coat off my shoulders to smack against the wall behind me.

“I don’t give a single fuck whether you’re a man or woman.

I’m not even sure what your problem is with me, exactly! ”

"It doesn't matter, if I kill you anyway!"

I pushed the offensive this time, feigning a slash to the right for her to block and cutting low across the top of her right thigh instead.

She bellowed angrily and swung at my open right side as well, except her weakened leg made her stumble and barely catch the next blow.

My block was too slow and the blade glanced off hers.

Bright pain flared across my ribs as her sword slashed through my leather vest and the thin tunic beneath it.

I turned with the swing, elbowing her on her temple and causing her to stagger into the brick wall.

I swung across her body, the sword going wide when she recovered and slammed her fist into the side of my jaw hard enough to make me see stars.

I tried to distance myself as much as I could in the narrow alley, desperately trying to catch my breath with heaving gasps that rattled with the collecting of water in the back of my throat.

It was getting too difficult to get enough air in my lungs, likely from Gennel manipulating the water content in our small area.

But magic did not create from nothing, and it did not destroy to nothing.

She had to be using the water from her own body—or some hidden container on her person—to saturate the air.

Which meant this was a battle against time.

I had to end this quickly, before I drowned or got stabbed to the point I couldn’t heal this body.

How she sustained herself without sucking all the water from herself was a testament to the precise control she had over her hydromancy.

Another thought barged into my mind at the worst possible moment. There was another incident, very recently, that would have required this level of proficiency. “You were the one who murdered Trisne Pid, aren’t you?”

Her bitter laughter was the only answer I needed. “Is that what you should be worrying about right now? Your priorities are horribly skewed.”

My vision reached a crimson so deep I may as well be looking through blood.

I could feel the hair not bound by my braid lift from my head with the burst of unfettered magic coursing through my body.

Rage the likes of which I had not felt for a hundred years almost dragged me under its influence and turned me into the berserker I kept locked away.

Gilamorst was not equipped or wholly capable of handling that version of me.

Gennel didn’t seem to realize the danger she was in.

“Oh no, did you care for dear Trisne?” Her voice was lilting in a sing-song taunt.

“Would you care to learn how long she survived without her liver?

Or her lungs? I saved the heart for last, it was my personal favorite to harvest. All for a good cause, I assure you.

I could even say I wouldn't be who I am today without her help. That ritual has been passed through the Werren family for generations, hoping to one day use it to finish off your despicable family!” A dreamy, demented look took over her face as she stared me down like I was a juicy steak she would devour.

"Oh, the magic I could harvest from you… "

Slowly, not taking my eyes from her, I pulled the glove of my left hand off with my teeth.

Her attention snagged on the action and Gennel tilted her head.

From how saturated the air became—to the point water gathered in my mouth with every breath and I had to spit it out on every exhale—she obviously suspected something would happen and was trying to weigh me down further.

“What—”

I didn’t give her much of a chance to respond.

Blow upon blow was barely blocked by her sword as I swung with renewed strength.

Every hit brought me a little closer to my goal, one that Gennel didn’t realize until my bare hand snatched out and wrapped around her arm at the bicep.

That moment of distraction when her head snapped down was enough to shove her, slamming her back against the brick wall hard enough to knock the wind from her lungs.

My forehead drove into the side of her face to smash it against the brick as well.

The draw from my left hand was swift and efficient.

Within the two breaths Gennel took before she could react, half of the muscles in her left arm from the fingers up to the bend of her elbow were withered and desiccated from the spell.

The howl of pain and frustration from her lips made my ears ring, and she began to thrash like a wild rinhound caught in a leg trap.

Brittle bone and drying skin began to crack and break apart beneath my relentless grip as the spell crept slowly up to the shoulder joint.

If the bitch was trying to drown me, I would dry her out in equal measures.

“Get… Off! ” Gennel roared. She managed to twist her body just enough to push off the wall and knock me off-balance.

Unfortunately for her, one arm was too dehydrated to be of much use at the moment, so the shove was weak.

It would take more concentration than what she had to spare to try healing it now.

I swung again, cutting a deep gash across the top of her other thigh that had her crumpling to the ground.

Those wide brown eyes rose slowly to meet mine, both of us breathing heavily from the exertion of our spellcasting and fighting.

In that moment, I saw the flip in her eyes from predator to prey.

They darted around frantically to look for an escape route.

“This isn’t fucking over, Morrette,” she hissed. “I will bring Golath back to its former glory, and make sure every part of the Hilj legacy is destroyed for betraying us!”

With a snarled yell, Gennel swept her sword low across the ground aimed at my ankles, and I barely jumped back to avoid the tip of it.

A massive cloud of fog burst forth from her hunched form and filled the enclosed space quickly.

I could barely see the end of my arm but darted in the same direction I knew the alley’s mouth was to try and head her off.

The form I thought was her hobbling body was nothing more than an illusion I swiped at with my sword, disturbing the fog with billowing swirls that swept around me as I spun to reorient myself.

The air was heavy and humid, the thick mist seemingly unbreakable and getting harder to breathe.

I had to get out before it smothered me or overheated my body.

“Gods, damn it!” I roared. My vision began to waver as I tried desperately to find the boundary of the space manipulated by Gennel’s magic.

It didn’t sound like my voice was muffled like before, which hinted that she was already too far away to keep that spell active.

But the night was still and stuffy as it was, adding to my discomfort and doing little to dissipate the fog.

Finally, after what felt like wading through a layer of hell itself, I stumbled out of the alleyway and gasped great lungsful of air not oversaturated and trying to suffocate me.

It took a good few minutes to recover and cool down.

I had to lean back against the front of a store and close my eyes to keep the world from spinning and slow my racing heartbeat.

“Gods damn it,” I whispered again, tilting my head and opening my eyes again to stare at the star-speckled night sky. “Can you possibly cut me some slack?”

Neither the gods I cursed, nor any other benevolent entity, answered me.