The princess had readily agreed to Salvador's invitation and they were in the carriage on the outskirts of Grenaserrat, just about to pass under the city walls when the guards above them pointed at something in the sky behind them. Salvador peered out the window and managed to see a flaming bolt from a ballista streaking through the sky just above the Grenaserrat docks.

His heart slowly began to pick up in pace and he caught Tomas's gaze, who was sitting at the other side of Emma. He nodded almost imperceptibly, but the soldier caught it. A light of understanding shone in his eye.

"What was it?" the princess asked.

Salvador shrugged. "A flock of toucans. The guards find them strange."

"Toucans?"

Salvador smiled. "Colorful birds. Which to be fair, is a general description of all the birds in the Caraíbes. Do you mind if you urge the driver to go a tad bit faster."

Emma gave him a questioning look but he simply nodded. "Axel! Speed the carriage up but a bit!"

"Yes, Your Highness!" the driver replied and Salvador felt them pick up the pace. The carriage behind them was filled with soldiers of the Seeker Company. They would pick up the pace as soon as they saw their own carriage doing so.

They rode in silence for a bit more. But Salvador could see Emma wanted to say something.

"What is it, Princess?" he prodded.

Emma blushed faintly. "I sincerely apologize for my brother's... actions this morning."

Salvador waved her off. "I've dealt with a few of his type. He does not faze me."

But Emma did not stop. "You don't understand. He isn't cruel just to be cruel.... Well maybe he is sometimes. But he wants control. He needs domination. He has to have everyone know he's in charge."

Salvador noticed Tomas frowned.

"And... it's hard," Emma continued. "He doesn't always have the control he craves. He tries to act like it, but in truth he knows that he is simply a battleground for the rival factions within the House of Lords." The Princess was sad. Salvador could see that much.

The air was dry. Incredibly dry. And so was the grass. Just glancing out of the carriage, Salvador could see that. Such dry air was not common in the Caraíbes, a place of high humidity and rain. But in the past few weeks, it had not even rained once. Odd. But Salvador knew the signs.

It was the calm before the storm.

It was coming soon. Any day now. Maybe even today. He had to act now.

"Perhaps one day, I shall see where you were raised, Salvador," Emma said. A statement, as if she wholly believed her brother would conquer all of Sersalvon.

Not if I have something to say about it. "Fiorá?"

She looked at him, confused. "Sapinsville."

Salvador shook his head sadly. "My father was killed, remember? I had to flee to Fiorá. I was born in Sapinsville, but I was raised in the training grounds of Springwater Hall."

Her lips formed a small O. Then, her expression became one of resolve. "When my brother subjugates Sersalvon, I'll make sure to deliver justice to the Lord of Sapinsville."

Salvador took in a deep breath. It was the first time someone had every vowed to help him on his vendetta. It wasn't necessary for Gerard to say it, he knew the Freelancer Knight would follow him down the Path to Perdition and back.

But that vengeance was his to take.

"Thank you," he ground out. But he knew it wasn't Emma's fault.

"And we'll free your mother," she added.

Salvador nodded with a note of finality.

Yet still she asked another question.

"One more question, Salvador," the princess said. She laughed when she saw his expression. "I promise!"

Salvador threw his hands up into the air dramatically. "Proceed, Your Highness."

"Why are we going to see the slaves? I thought you despised seeing them."

"You shall see, Your Highness," Tomas answered before Salvador could say anything.

The princess looked at Tomas and then at Salvador, confused. But Salvador could see that the gears of suspicion were working behind those intelligent blue eyes of hers.

When they arrived at the plantations, Salvador jumped out of the carriage and hurried over to where the slaves were toiling in the fields under the burning Carabaí sun. The Evrúopean guards watching over the slaves tightened their grips on their spears, but Salvador noticed and ignored them.

The majority of the slaves were women and boys under the age of sixteen. The Evrúopeans considered these the weakest of the Grenesarri population...

... but that was where they were wrong.

Salvador gazed at the expansive rice fields. There were hundreds of slaves just in shouting distance. And even further in all directions except the south, there were banana plantations, cocoa and sugar plantations, and more. There may be thousands or even tens of thousands of slaves. Most imported from Grenaserrat City. Now, Salvador remembered the woman and child inside that accursed city whom he could not save. He still remembered how the knight's sword took her head off in one swing. So clean. So efficient.

Now was the time to rise.

Staring out at these green rice fields. He shouted in his native tongue, "Which of you were soldiers?" The slaves were surprised, for they had been forbidden to speak to each other in their native tongue. "Do not answer that question. You know who you are!"

One of the guards moved towards him. "Speak so that we can understand you, pagan," he growled.

Salvador faced the guard and stepped towards him. The guard flinched and gripped his spear. Little good it did when Salvador surprised him by kicking him in his unprotected crotch and ripping the spear from his hand. He whirled around and rapped the man in the back of his knees, bringing him to the ground. He gripped the spear with two hands and rested it under the guard's chin. In that time, Tomas and the dismounted Veroñan soldiers began slaughtering the Evrúopean guards.

Emma was completely taken aback. She screamed when Tomas ran a guard through with his spear and blood splattered on her dress. She raised a gloved hand to her mouth. Her eyes pierced Salvador in shock and betrayal. "What is the meaning of this, Salvador!

Salvador only slowly shook his head. His heart shattered as her betrayed look made him hurt. He turned back to the slaves, the Evrúopean guards now either dead or surrendered. "They have underestimated you, these Evrúopeans! They thought they could break the Carabaí will, but little did they know, our will is steel!"

One bold slave cried out, "Are you to save us?"

Salvador shook his head. "Look at what you have in your hands. Scythes, sickles, and machetes. These Evrúopeans have given you the tool to save yourselves. You simply did not use them!

"But now is the time. These last shipments of rice, banana, and more are what the pale-skinners need to invade the rest of the Caraíbes. But we shall not let them! We must spare the rest of the Caraíbes the fate that you all have suffered"―at that, Salvador's men began to unload the carriage of the torches that they had brought―"and we shall do that by burning these crops.

"Don't you see, my fellow folk, that the grass is dry and ripe for burning? We all know that dry grass in the Caraíbes only comes before a terrible storm. And the storm is the sign of Iusphiel, Angel of Justice. So is it not that Justice is with us? Is it not now time to rise? Throw off these foreign invaders and cripple them! Now is the time to RISE!"

He expected a cheer, but he got none. Only a foreboding sense of duty. His men lighted the torches and passed them out to the slaves and put down any Evrúopean guards and overseers that they found. Those who were once soldiers were the first ones to swing their sickles and scythes at their captors. The mothers were the ones to grab the torches and light the fires. Boys the ages thirteen and fourteen picked up their machetes and joined the fight.

"Evacuate everyone from the fields!" Salvador shouted. He heard a weak sound come from Princess Emma, her eyes reflected the now roaring flames as her brother's funds and food for his campaign dissipated in the dancing flames. Salvador ignored her, for it hurt too much to look at the betrayal on her face.

To the west and north, smoke flitted up in the air, rising to Heaven. It was beautiful in a way as if they were sending an offering up to God. To Justice. Salvador smiled. He ran to the arch-overseer's office and threw open the door. The man was cowering next to a window, watching all of his works go up in flames. He hardly noticed when Salvador entered his room.

The last thing he saw were those flames.

Salvador left the man with a dagger sticking out of the back of his head.

As he walked back outside, he noticed something: the flames were roaring too high and spreading too fast. His eyes slowly widened as he saw a child running away, flames clinging closely to their body. The sky had begun to darken as a thick blanket of smoke was slowly laid over them like a mother laying a blanket over her child for the night.

"Salvador!" Tomas screamed. "We have to go!" The captain pointed behind Salvador. He whirled around and saw a group of Evrúopean guards and overseers rushing towards them. Dozens and dozens who had been drawn by the fire and forced away from the raging wildfire that was the banana plantation.

It's out of control.

Salvador sprinted for Tomas and Emma, both of whom were protecting the carriages. Slaves were stumbling out of the inferno, covered in ash. While others were stumbling out covered in flames. As Salvador ran, the Evrúopeans unleashed a deadly rain of crossbow bolts. Most flew over his head and struck the newly freed slaves, but one bolt managed to graze his shoulder. He cried out in pain and stumbled but managed to keep his balance and keep on running. He managed to reach the carriage horses, which Tomas had untethered. The Princess Emma was staring at the inferno, her mouth wide and gaping.

The dead were piling up.

"Salvador, we have to leave!" Tomas shouted.

Salvador looked at him, incredulous. "And the soldiers? The slaves?"

He saw the hurt look in Tomas's eye. The pain in his voice as he said, "It's too late!"

"No!" Salvador shouted. "Never!"

Tomas's expression returned to one of grim duty as he promptly punched Salvador in the face and then lifted him onto one of the four horses. Princess Emma followed. Tomas was about to mount a steed himself when a woman shouted at him. She seemed to be limping and held a machete confidently in her hand. She was not old, in fact she seemed to be in her thirties. By her figure, Salvador could tell that she must've been a soldier in her younger years.

The Evrúopean guards had descended on them now, and the men of the Seeker Company had pulled back to protect the carriage, forming a ring of steel with the remaining men they had.

"Wait!" she cried in Carabaí. "You have killed us all, but at least save my son." She gestured at the vacant horse. "You have one more steed. Please, take him! Before they kill us all."

The little boy had short, olive brown hair and ashy gray eyes. He looked to be no more than ten years old.

About as old as Salvador was when his father was killed.

A guard with a cutlass tried to slash at her, but she blocked the strike on her machete and kicked his knee before plunging her machete into his shoulder.

The soldiers made to part for the woman and Salvador reached out for the child.

Then, a crossbow bolt pierced his body.

The boy was dead before he hit the ground.

The woman wailed and fell over his body. She sobbed and screeched at him, "You gave us false hope! You led our children into a slaughter. You have killed us all!"

Salvador didn't speak. He was shocked. His mouth moved but no words formed. He watched as all of the slaves they had freed were slowly slaughtered, like cattle. The flames raged and consumed everything in sight, except for the road ahead.

Tomas told the princess something, but Salvador could scarcely hear. His eyes stayed on the scene that played out before him. The flames flickered, danced, and roared. So beautiful and mesmerizing, yet they were Death themselves. He had asked the slaves to throw themselves at the flames as if they were moths. But now, the Réaltimarines and Élirians pounced on these vulnerable moths.

It was over before it even began.

Nothing made sense to Salvador as Tomas forced his horse to gallop towards Grenaserrat City, where Gerard was holding out at the port, waiting for them to arrive. Salvador felt an odd sense of déjà vu. As if this had happened to him before, riding away on a horse while he left others to die. Then he remembered: eight years ago.