TW: Some fighting but nothing compared to some of the fights in this story

Henwy slowly sharpened the sword in his hands. The metal shone in the bright sun, glowing with runes carved along its edge. His rich brown eyes admired its surface for a moment before flicking over to his recently freed arm. Healing potions had finally been made accessible and he was as good as new.

He was sitting on one of the sturdy beams of wood that surrounded the campfire. Loaf was across from him, whittling a small chunk of wood.

"You think he'll come?" Henwy asked.

"Well, he was the one who told us to show, so, yeah," Loaf muttered, never taking his eyes off his carving.

A gust of wind made him shiver and he was grateful for the fire's warmth. He pulled his limbs close to him.

"Aw, is Fire Boy cold?" Loaf teased.

"How are you not?"

Loaf shrugged. "I'm dead inside."

Henwy rolled his eyes and turned his attention back to the fire. After all this time, the flames still danced. It was comforting.

He remembered back in the first world when he'd helped to make the first campfire. It hadn't died then, either, until the meteor.

The second world's fire was never put out until... well... you know.

He hoped this one never died. The only time the fire went out was when there was no one to tend to it, which meant the land was abandoned.
He didn't want to leave another world.

A dry cough stirred him from his thoughts. He turned towards the noise and met the hardened eyes of Gold. Flanking him on either side were Florian and Frost. The sorcerers' eyes glittered with determination... and fear.

Loaf gave them a cursory glance. "Join us, won't you? I'd rather not ominously stand on opposing sides when we could use the benches for what they were made for."

The three obliged, but still distanced themselves from the other two. Tension crackled in the air like lightning.

"So you got my letter," Gold said after a long pause.

Loaf muttered, "Nice observation, Sherlock."
Henwy, Gold, Frost, and Florian, despite all having different agendas and generally wanting each other dead, shared confused glances. "Who?" Henwy asked.

"Don't worry about it."

Florian narrowed his eyes. "You seem awfully chipper."

He continued carving, an interesting shape beginning to take form. "An old project is almost complete." His dark eyes flicked up to meet the sorcerer's and an almost sinister note crept into his voice. "But that's not why you called us here, is it?"

Henwy stayed quiet for now. Whatever back-and-forth was happening right now was going over his head. It was riddled with hidden meanings he wasn't cognizantly aware enough to figure out.

Gold shook his head, cutting off the conversation mid-sentence. "We called you here because it's only the five of us left. Clearly we're going to fight at some point, so why not just get it over with?"

Henwy narrowed his eyes. After years of dodging direct combat, such as becoming a literal cult member and spreading terror under a guise, he was vouching for it now? No, that wasn't what was going on.

He was trying to speed something up. But the question was: what?

Revenge wasn't the main issue. If it was, Gold would've done something akin to the Anti-Henwy Trio's plan. Sure, the cold glitter in his eyes relayed at least some form of desire for vengeance, but admitting to it outright greatly lowered his chances.

Plus, it was the honorable thing to do, and no one here was honorable.

He glanced at Loaf, who was clearly hiding a smile. So Mr. Top Hat knew what they were trying to do, it seemed. It looked like he was the only one out of the loop.

Henwy didn't like that one bit.

"Well?" Frost prompted.

Loaf just shook his head, the smile he'd been failing to hide etching across his features. "That little plan of yours isn't going to work."

Suddenly, Frost was standing, fury making his muscles tense as he curled his fists into tight balls. "What else can we do? You're ruining our world. We're fighting for it."

Henwy glanced sharply at Loaf, trying to make it discreet, but it was clearly noticed.

"Oh, you didn't know your partner is destroying this world?" Florian hissed. "Fine teamwork right there."

Anger began to churn in his stomach, but he wasn't quite sure who it was directed at. He rose, sensing that a fight was about to begin. Maybe that was the trio's plan all along; get the duo so riled up that they'd fight.

Gold shook his head. "Henwy doesn't do teamwork."

"Neither does Loaf," Frost muttered.

"Big talk coming from you, John-" Henwy was cut off by a spear of ice. He dodged, but barely. He swung his gaze towards Frost. "Hey!"

Fire crackled in his palms. He glared at his attacker, who glared evenly back.

Fauna began to flutter as Florian stepped forward beside his friend.

Gold hung back, eyes wide.

"Still don't know what you can do, Thief?" Loaf hummed. He set down his carving, revealing an hourglass. Curiously enough, the sand on the bottom was copious while that on top held a few mere granules. "Not even Frost can sense magic where there is none."

All five were standing and Henwy was reminded of a time long ago where the eye of a hurricane surrounded them. Tension crackled, but all was still.

Chaos broke loose as Frost took the first move. The ground quaked and broke as large spikes of ice shot towards the sky, somehow missing the campfire.

Henwy spread his hands and energy coursed from him, melting the spikes.

Florian twitched his fingers and vines wrapped around Loaf, who caused them to wither with his dark magic.

Gold, sword in hand, rushed Henwy, who met him blade for blade. Grief and fury glittered in the man's eyes, undoubtedly giving him strength.

Henwy twisted and kicked out, his boot hitting Gold's chest. The man staggered, grimacing, before regaining his footing and leaping again.
Frost and Florian were sending spell after spell at Loaf, who was holding his own against the two.

Henwy and Gold traded blows. They were evenly matched and, dimly, Henwy wondered if his stubbornness would finally fail him.

Gold's eyes flashed- well, gold- and the hair on the back of Henwy's neck rose as the air shifted. The next spar sent waves of magic through him. Gold started to move quicker- or maybe Henwy was moving slower.

It was the latter. It felt like he was moving through tar. Fear fluttered through his heart as he slowed to an agonizing halt. The corner of Gold's mouth upturned.

He pressed the tip of his sword against Henwy's chest. It burned as it began to cut into flesh.

He drew back, muscles tensing as he prepared the final strike.

Frost's outcry made him hesitate.

The man was bleeding from a heavy cut on his forehead, but that wasn't what he was shouting about. Loaf, who had somehow made his way to the campfire, was grinning at him.

A long cut traced the man's forearm and he held it over the flame. Blood dripped steadily into the fire.

With his other hand, magic began to build in his palm. It was gold and black, twirling together in some macabre dance.

He slammed the magic into the dancing flames, the ordinary campfire exploding into a raging bonfire that flickered black.

The sides began to melt away, revealing a world so barren and devoid of life, it could send fear in the most valiant warrior's heart.

Florian gasped. Gold's eyes widened and he took a step back, forgetting that he had revenge so close in his grasp.

The shadows began to twist and turn and Frost , upon seeing the true depth of the invading world, called to retreat.

The other two had no issues with it, especially when they heard cackling from the other side.

Henwy, still frozen, whimpered and tried to make his muscles twitch. Nothing.

Loaf lifted an eyebrow, slowly pacing around the trapped man. "Well well, look what we have here."

Henwy's heart sank at his tone. He struggled, but his limbs refused to comply.

Loaf stopped when he was right in front of him. "You and I were only partners to get what we wanted. You wanted Sigils dead; I wanted the sorcerers dealt with." He shrugged. "Seems to me our business transaction is complete."

The sun was beginning to set, casting beautiful rays across a pink sky. Henwy let out a strangled gasp, panic racing through his veins. He would never survive the night.

"After everything you've survived.. and this is where you meet your end." He shook his head, running his hand along his top hat. "Life really doesn't like you, does it?"

He turned, ignoring Henwy's broken screams, and left as night dawned across the land.