Sab grabbed him by the shoulder. A second too late. The spearhead shuddered across stone, cutting a thin line, barely visible. Thick enough. The circle was broken. Lightning crackled around the spearhead. Arced up the shaft. Raff released the spear as Sab yanked him backward. Seconds later, the shaft shattered, wood flying everywhere.

"Let go!" he demanded. Even to his ears, he sounded like a petulant child.

Edith stood. It was so sudden that even Raff couldn't see it happen; one second, she was contorted on the floor, the next, standing. She looked up. Black spilled down from her dark eye, a big, fixed smile spread over her face. The doll-half of her face was stiff, forced into the smile, the eye pinched as if she might cry.

The chains fell away. They broke, one clean snap from the collar, one from both cuffs. It happened in an instant; it happened in slow motion. He watched them fall. Watched the collar slide down her shoulders, her hair slide free, her hands lift as the cuffs broke, heavy metal falling away to the floor. Palms turned to the ceiling. Her face turned upward.

"Stop!" the guard shouted. Tenebrae gestured. The shadows lunged, and both guards were instantly bound to the wall.

"Raff, no," Sab breathed. His eyes were locked on Tenebrae.

Raff pushed away from him. "Cecile, take me to Cecile," he demanded.

Tenebrae lifted her foot. Stepped over the line. Nothing happened. Shadow danced over the bars of the cell, and they fell away, sliced neatly into pieces. She held out her hand.

Before he could grab it, Sab caught Raff's hand. "What are you doing?" he demanded, pulling Raff to face him. "Are you insane?"

Raff pulled himself free. He didn't need to answer to anyone. Cecile was in danger. Giada, too. She had been inside the Shrine as well. Every second they wasted was another chance they died or got hurt. He took Tenebrae's hand.

"Raff!" Sab grabbed his shoulder.

There was an odd sensation, as if he had plunged into water, but without the weightlessness. Vaguely, he felt the sensation of something slipping past, like water against his skin, but not wet, not cool. His vision went black. He tried to draw breath and found nothing. It was as if there was something over his face, sucking into his mouth when he breathed, too thick to let air pass through. Raff reached for his face instinctively, but couldn't. He was paralyzed. His hand was glued to Tenebrae's, locked in place. Someone shouted in his ears. Footsteps clattered, close enough he could reach out and touch the people making them. For a second, he could hear someone's breathing, their heartbeat, and then he was whipped past, or maybe the sound faded. Raff's chest was tight. He could feel his lungs seizing, no air, no air—

They were in the lobby, just inside the doors to the prison. Raff gasped in a breath, hands belatedly clutching at his face. What—what was that? He turned to Tenebrae, meaning to ask. Instead, he found Sab. He released Raff's shoulder and stumbled away, catching his breath as well. Raff stared. How? What? Why was Sab here?

"Hey, stop!"

The voice had come from behind him. Raff turned. The guards from earlier were running towards them. Ahead, the doors creaked open, ominous as ever; when he wheeled, he found Tenebrae pushing them open. He didn't hesitate, but sprinted after Tenebrae, through the door and out into the courtyard.

An army of undead stood before him. They massed in the cemetery at the back of the yard, slowly shambled through the wrecked back wall of the Shrine. There were so many of them. Enough he couldn't possibly count them all. He stumbled to a stop. No. This was worse than he'd imagined. How could anyone survive? Were they all dead?

Beside him, Sab came to a halt as well, just as stricken as Raff felt. For some reason he couldn't quite explain, it made him angry all over again. It was so familiar, maybe. This was the Sab he'd known. But it wasn't the real Sab, and that was the problem. It was all an act.

Tenebrae giggled and held her hands up to the sun, seemingly oblivious to the crisis at hand. His anger redoubled. Laughing, at a time like this? Was she insane? It wasn't funny.

"Come on," he snapped, grabbing Tenebrae's hand. She yelped, but let herself get dragged after him as he ran towards the Shrine.

"Hey, wait. You're hurting her," Sab complained.

"You'll be sick later," Tenebrae said, unprompted. "I brought you up here, but I had to move fast, so I shadow-walked. Shouldn't shadow-walk if you haven't the element for it."

"Yes, thank you," Raff grunted. Now wasn't exactly the time for that.

The boundary ring around the prison rushed up. Moreso than ever before, the dark iron looked ominous. If they knew, if they wanted to stop them, all the guards had to do was trigger the ring, and they'd all go down. Two steps. One. He leaped over it, tensing in preparation for whatever element to rush out at him.

Then he was over the ring, feet beating against the brick path, prison falling behind him. No one had activated the ring. The guards who'd chased them had fallen back. Hopefully to find reinforcements, and not out of cowardice, Raff thought. Now he was close enough he could smell the undead, their scent not fresh but one of centuries of rot, accumulated in dozens, if not hundreds of bodies. A splash of red amongst the ghouls caught his eye. One of them was fresh. No, a few, here and there. Some of the faces were even familiar: Shrineguards he'd met in classes or during his duties, somehow turned undead. Raff's frown deepened. This can't be happening. He wanted to panic, run and scream, but he forced himself to keep racing towards the Shrine and the ghouls. If Cecile and Giada were still in there, if they were still alive, he had to help them.

"Cut me a path!" he demanded, yanking on Tenebrae's arm.

No response. He glanced back. Tenebrae was watching the clouds overhead. They made eye contact, and she gave him a bored expression.

He grit his teeth. So much for that. That's what I get for helping an insane goddess. He let go of her and focused only on the ghouls in front of him. The sword hissed from his sheath with barely a thought. It already felt like a part of him, sword and soulstone an extension of his body. He found the stone by instinct. Fire hissed up the blade. He poured more power into it, building up magic in the blade, circulating it down one side and back the other, making a circle of the shape of the blade. Just like in lessons, except this time it was real. Racing at ghouls with his sword on fire, it was harder to focus on the magic than it had been in the lessons. The heat from the sword splashed against his body. Magic kept spitting off the blade in bursts of sparks, wasted, as he lost track of the spin. They bit at his hand while the heat from the metal welled up through the sword's grip. A little more. A little more. The hunger grew, biting at his stomach as his magic welled up. Could he? Would he lose control? He tightened his grip, frustrated at himself. He wasn't going to lose control! He could do this!

Raff slashed at the ghouls, throwing the fire from his sword with all his might. Fed with the magic he'd spun into it, the slash burned hot. It arced through the first half-dozen ghouls, setting long-dead flesh and ancient uniforms ablaze. Raff chased it down. No time to let it burn out. No time at all. He crashed through the burning ghouls shoulder-first. Brittle bones snapped like dry twigs. Dust flew up, ignited, fell as embers. Limbs flew, ghouls too old to hold together in the face of fire and a shoulder-rush. Fire licked at his arms and legs. Then he was through, into the thick of it. The nearby ghouls had turned to face him, black eye sockets chasing him. Hands reached. Rusty weapons were raised. He cut through the one directly between him and the Shrine. The second his flaming sword bit into it, its whole body ignited like paper. Something tugged at his back. Caught, he staggered back and twisted to get a look. A flaming ghoul stared back at him, grim skull-mouth gaping, bony hand tangled in his uniform jacket. He yanked at it, but its grip was surprisingly strong. Another hand grabbed at his stomach, bony fingers dragging over leather. A fallen ghoul wrapped its arms around a leg and dragged itself closer, mouth open to bite.

Shit! Raff kicked and half turned, but he was boxed in by ghouls. No space for a respite. No space to breathe. He slashed at the hand that grabbed his torso, cut blindly at the one holding him from behind. More ghouls stepped in to take their place, grabbing, biting, reaching. Dread sank his heart to his feet. There was no end to them. No way through. All his effort had cut him a path to his own death, but no further.

"Raff, you idiot!"

A hammer smashed the nearest ghoul's head to splinters. Sab appeared from behind it, panting. "Honestly!" he shouted. He swung the hammer at Raff. Raff flinched, but it struck a ghoul off his back instead. "Don't be such a moody git. Do you want to die?"

Raff stared. Sab had come to help...? Even after he'd seen through the façade? "You," he started, then realized how dumb what he was about to say was. Of course Sab cared about him. He'd been stupid. It wasn't play-acting. Everyone wanted to turn over a new leaf sometimes. He had a past, but it didn't mean everything he'd done was a lie.

He was still lying to you, all this time, a little voice whispered. He knew the dark goddess personally, and never said a thing? Who knows what other secrets he's hiding?

He swallowed, looked away. A ghoul jumped at him, and he cut it down a little more fiercely than he really had to. Sab had still betrayed him by keeping so many secrets. But he was still Raff's brother—or the closest thing he had.

Their shadows distorted under them. "Watch out!" Raff called as he parried a clumsy blow. Anima was attacking them. He'd noticed them already. They'd never make it.

From behind them, the shadows lunged. Raff struck at them, parrying. They slid past him harmlessly, but pushed back at the ghouls, clearing a path. Every ghoul the shadow touched froze. One halted mid-strike, its hand caught in the act of plunging down. Another was caught mid-step, precariously balanced on one foot. He whipped around toward the Shrine and watched as the shadows pushed onward. They knocked ghouls left or right, pushing them out of their path, and froze the rest. An inky-black path drew a line directly towards the Shrine.

"Run, already!" Sab shouted.

Raff glanced down and realized the shadow had left them behind. The ground under their feet was already turning back to normal, the ghouls lurching back into motion. Raff jumped to life and sprinted. Tenebrae had helped after all. What else could it be? Anima wouldn't help them. No other darkness-user would be that strong. She'd given him a chance. He had to make it worth it.

Sab followed right behind them, the both of them racing for the Shrine. Suddenly, an arm punched through the wall of frozen ghouls. Before he could react, it grabbed Raff by the sword arm. He jolted to a halt and staggered backwards, into Sab.

"What in Ignis' beard is the—"

"I'm stuck, I'm stuck," Raff shouted. He pulled with all his might, but the hand's grip only tightened. It grew painful. He felt his bones grind and gasped, yanking harder. Not now! He followed the arm up to its owner and found one of the fresh ghouls glaring back. Ornella. He remembered her from the walls. He'd been assigned there one day during his part-timing, a last-minute replacement for a few hours to fill in for someone missing. "The walls are fine, but one day, I'll go see the capitol," she'd said, and her eyes had glistened.

Now they were dry and white with cataracts. Her face turned toward him. There was no spark of recognition. No emotion at all. He yanked at his arm again. Please, please, please, let me go, he chanted. The path was closing. The shadow had left him behind. Ghouls were already coming back to life and filling it in, as though it had never been. A few more seconds, and there would be no path. His breath came in gasps. Her grip tightened. Pain seared up his arm, bone-deep. If she breaks it, if she, if she breaks it, but he wouldn't let himself think any further, couldn't, wouldn't.

There was a flash of metal. A dull, wet crack, like a ripe melon dropped on stone, splitting open. Blood splattered over Raff's uniform, thick and dark. What was left of Ornella sagged to the ground, head splattered. Her hand fell open.

"Go!" Sab pushed him forward, propelling Raff toward the path.

He took off. A ghoul reached for him. He ducked and slid, jumped back up. Another lunged, and this time he leaped, pushing off the ghoul's bent back. He hit the ground running. The shadow, the shadow, he'd almost made it back!

He looked over his shoulder. "Just a little furth—"

Sab was gone.

Raff tripped over a crawling ghoul and almost fell, caught himself, ran a few steps on three limbs. Pushed back up. Kept running. He couldn't. He couldn't turn back. Sab can handle it. He'll survive. He's tough. But there were so many ghouls. An army.

He lied to you. He betrayed you.

He's my best friend!

The shadow of the Shrine's wall loomed. Dust fell over his shoulders. The air smelled of incense, suddenly. Lightning crackled nearby; he ducked a blast of fire. Good, they're still fighting. There were still Shrineguards who could fight. There was hope.

And then he burst through the last of the ghouls and found himself racing towards Anima. Cecile was kneeling, twisted with pain.

In an instant, his vision went red. Everything vanished except for Anima and Cecile. He screamed her name and launched himself into the air. Anima turned. He swung. All his weight was behind the blow, strength he didn't even know he had tearing the blade through the air so fast it left the flames behind, a second image. There was no stopping it. Even he couldn't stop. He watched the blade fall towards Anima's neck in slow motion. It would all be over in this moment.

"The leap," Anima breathed.

The world froze. Raff's arms jarred as his swing stopped dead. Even his body was frozen, caught in midair. Shadow coagulated all around him, thick as treacle. He struggled, but it didn't give an inch. No, no, no, no, no! He couldn't get stuck here. Not this close! He could almost touch Anima! He could almost, almost—!

"Was a mistake," Anima finished. He thrust his hand at Raff. A shadowy spike flew from his sleeve, thrusting towards Raff's heart.

Raff only had time to gasp a breath. He closed his eyes.