The third guard shrugged. “Accidents happen.”

They lifted him, and he groaned in pain. I stepped into the clearing, and both guards spun, their eyes widening as a scowl formed on their faces.

“Beating a man when he does not fight back?” I tsked. “Coward is not the right word in your language, but it is close enough.”

One guard drew his blade, raising it to me. “Back to your tent, prisoner, or we will gut you here.”

The elf at his feet pushed up, opening one bloody and bruised eye. I pursed my lips, sighing.

“Sorry, I can’t do that.”

They charged.

One raised his blade. It swished through the air, and I sidestepped, my fist slamming out, knocking him to the ground. The other guard came up behind me, his blade crashing down on my shoulder. His eyes widened in disbelief when the sword bounced off.

I shook my head and turned, yanking the sword from his hand and slamming the hilt against his nose. He cursed and stumbled back, covering his face, blood spurting between his fingers. I broke the blade across my knee. The guard nearest the elf leaned down to push him off the cliff but yelped and grabbed his own neck. He fell to one knee, a small blade sticking from his throat. He tumbled back over the cliff. The elf smirked, and I realized he wasn’t as defenseless as I thought.

His eyes widened, and he reached into his pocket. He threw something, and a small silver ring flew through the air. I caught it and slipped it onto my finger. An ablaze dagger formed, and I twisted my hand, stabbing the charging guard under his chin.

A shuffling came from my right, and the last guard gasped.

“No,” he whispered. “You’re no rebel. You’re him.”

The dagger left my hand and speared through his skull, cutting off anything else he would have said. His body dropped with a thud. I picked up the first guard I’d killed and stomped through the brush as I neared the elf.

He sat up, holding his side as he smiled at me. “Thanks for saving me.”

Not saying anything, I tossed the guard off the cliff. I stalked to the other guard and pulled the blade from his head, calling it back into my ring. I leaned down and lifted his body, hissing as my side pulled. But it was not nearly as bad as before. I stood near the cliff’s edge and tossed the last guard over before glaring at the elf.

“I know you kill monsters, but I’m surprised you killed them.”

“Who said they weren’t monsters?”

He swallowed and nodded. I extended my hand toward him, and he grasped it, pulling himself up. “Please tell me you did not get yourself in this predicament to prove a point.”

His tail thrashed behind him. “Actually, no. I left to take a piss, and the guards saw and jumped me.”

“Why?” I asked. “They mentioned a traitor.”

The elf dug into his loose pants pocket. He pulled out the rest of my rings and handed them to me.

“I guess I can tell you my secret since I know yours.”

I took my rings back and placed them in my pocket. “Go on.”

“My name is Orym. I’m an ex-commander of Nismera’s Thirtysixth Legion.”

ORYM HISSED AS HE FINISHED WRAPPING THE SMALL GASH ON HIS SIDE from the guard’s boot. “So you really are him. You’re the god king.”

He faked a bow, and I grumbled. “Stop that. I hate that.”

“How . . . how are you alive?” he asked as we settled into the cramped tent. We stayed in the shadows and snuck in through the back of our tent, making it back without the guards seeing us.

I said nothing as I lay back down on my small cot.

“I saw . . . we all saw the sky open. Your light dances across the sky. You’re supposed to be dead.”

Dead. That’s what they kept saying, and by all accounts, they were right.