The fire burst magic, intensified by funnelled wind, struck the sealed palace front doors. The explosion rocked the ground and shattered the high archway; rubble cascaded over the main entrance. Karis Bonneville slowed, bursting into laughter.

"Man, you sure are persistent!" she said over her shoulder, spinning round, her loose sleeve flapping. "I wouldn't have pegged such a short--"

Her words were cut off. Rowan's next bout of burst magic forced her to summon a sheet of ice, which cracked on contact with his fire. A series of gunshots, missing by centimetres, forced her into the corner. She scowled, a dark look on her fair face, the tousled silvery white hair glistening in sunlight. She kept her one hand outstretched, her flash magic ready. Wall after wall of ice burst forth from the ground with every shot, shattering on impact and knocking the bullets off their trajectory. Tylene and Dent reloaded from afar, atop a balcony, keeping a keen eye and their distance from the flash mage.

Rowan strode forward without a strategy in mind, rage shrouding a calm mind that still allowed burst magic. Bonneville fired ice at his aides, but he swept them out of the sky with one lazy wave of his hand.

"I'm your opponent, you bitch!" he roared.

The magic throbbed at his fingertips, the flames turning crisp and white. The burst extended into streaks of white-hot flames along his forearms. He swung at her, the magic elongating and forcing her to bring up shields of ice, which shattered on impact. Bonneville gritted her teeth, showering him with spikes of ice with every punch. Rowan's flames increased in temperature, melting the ice before they could reach him. His fury poured like magma, fuelling his magic. Loren's face, her smile, her kind words, her innocent enthusiasm -- all destroyed because of this despicable human being.

Rowan's usual calm demeanour turned to ashes under his inferno for revenge, consuming his reasoning and compassion. The burst danced across the surface of his hands, faint and almost blue.

Bonneville was taller, faster, and her flash magic was deadly despite her only having one arm, but that didn't deter her. Rowan sprang forward, the magic crackling in his hands. They clashed, her ice smashing against his burst. The ice splintered, showering them both with shards. Bonneville threw her hand forward. The shards paused and pelted at Rowan, but he brought his arms across himself, releasing a burst of heat that turned them into water.

Behind them, one of the aides fired. The bullet skimmed by Bonneville's cheek, drawing blood. She flinched with a snarl.

"Leave her! She's mine!" Rowan thundered. His bloodlust turned into liquid lava boiling from his mind and coursing down his body. His magic reserve was down to half, but he had no qualms about unleashing everything he had. She deserved every injury he could inflict.

Bonneville scowled and blasted ice at him. At the same time, Rowan roared, utilising that fury he'd pent up and unleashing it down his arms, concentrating at his fingertips. The magic emitted chirping, like the sound of birds, and a blast of white lightning exploded towards Bonneville.

The aim was off. Rowan hadn't expected such intense energy to come from him. It struck two storeys above the spot where Bonneville stood, tearing chunks out of the structure and leaving a lethal crater in the front wall of the palace. The dust showered upon her, forcing her to abandon her next attack to shield her face.

Was that... flash magic? Rowan stared at his hands, stunned, but Bonneville didn't let him spend long processing. Aim. Aiming was the issue. Bonneville usually savoured her moments, especially of victory or of pain. But that strike just now would have taken her life, so she wouldn't want to spend too long parrying his hits.

She threw a punch. Jagged ice erupted from the ground straight for him. Rowan skipped backwards, throwing a handful of flames at the ground to melt the closest ones. A few ice spears twisted, evading the heat, and scraped past his arms and legs. He winced. Blood trickled down his sleeves and trousers.

Bonneville didn't let him rest. She sprinted at him, throwing another series of ice stalagmites from the ground and forcing him to retreat. He batted them away with arms of fire, but without warning she was before him.

Rowan's head lifted up. He was too distracted by the ground-level attacks. Bonneville brought up two javelins of ice from the ground. One speared into the side of his abdomen. The other skimmed his shoulder. Pain exploded from his stomach, forcing him to buckle up. Up close, her hair was almost white, streaked with blood, a sadistic spark in her electric blue eyes and a wide grin showing pearly white teeth that gleamed like the jewellery decorating her face. She slapped her hand on his wrist. He yelped, the spears of frost settling in. The dull throbbing of pain kept his mind occupied from burst magic. Slipping her hand off with fluidity like water, she swung a punch at him, also coated in ice. The impact was like a rock onto bone. His head snapped back. For a second, the world went black. He crashed to the floor, stunned.

Bonneville gave him a good kick in the stomach for good measure. The world spun. Hot nausea swirled in the pit of Rowan's stomach, with pain shooting down both legs. He didn't know what he last ate, but it sure was making a good attempt at escaping his throat. She stood over him, breathing heavily.

"I don't know why you're so mad anyway. Why, was she your girlfriend? She couldn't fight. She couldn't lie her way out. She was pretty useless, if you ask me."

She raised an arm of ice and flinched back at the sound of gunshot. With a snarl, she blasted at Dent with her magic. Rowan couldn't see if his aide had gotten out of the way in time.

"My god, you guys are annoying little pests!" she called. "Stay out of it. You're just ordinary shitty little humans. If you have no magic, don't join in, okay?"

The area around her erupted in small explosions. Bonneville squealed, throwing her arm up in defence. Thick smoke engulfed her. Rowan's eyes watered as he struggled to get up. A shape darted in, throwing Rowan's arm around their neck and tugging him out without a pause. He recognised the body shape. Tylene.

She knelt beside him, applying pressure to his abdominal wound. It hadn't punctured the other side, but the blood oozed steadily. She rooted in her pouch and brought out the emergency dressings, pressing them firmly to his wound. Rowan's wrist burned from the ice that seeped into his flesh. Clearing his mind temporarily from the distractors, he let out a controlled burst of fire that melted it into water, soaking into the dark brown sleeve of his mage's uniform. He tugged the sleeve back, revealing tender, pink flesh.

"That's enough."

Rowan tensed. Bonneville stepped out of the smoke, the laughter gone from her face. Her bright blue eyes glared with irritation at Tylene and Rowan. Her one arm stretched out with a pole of ice that extended from her palm up towards the balcony.

"If you don't step away from him now, I'll crush your buddy there."

Rowan's head snapped up.

"You bitch!"

Her ice had engulfed Dent, crushing him against the wall on the second floor balcony where he and Tylene had kept watch. It must have struck him when Rowan got speared. Dent's head lolled, blood trickling from his temple, his face deathly white. A puff of white mist with every slow breath was the only indication he was still alive.

"They're so damn weak, aren't they?" Bonneville said with a smirk. "Aw, you're breaking my heart. Don't think of anything funny. None of your flames and shit can reach me quicker than me turning your friend into mince."

As if to illustrate her point, she closed her fingers in every so slightly. Rowan could distinctly hear a bone crack.

"Do as she says," Rowan said in a trembling undertone. Searing hot magic coursed down his arms, burning along his injuries. He fought to keep his face neutral, the helplessness from the old memory of Acrise and Ebbsfleet missions nibbling at his resolve. Tylene nodded, silent, watching him with hollow eyes, and stepped back, tucking her medicines away. Both of them, Tylene and Dent, would take a bullet for him, no questions asked. And that was the last thing he wanted: another Aron incident. He kept his eyes locked with Tylene's. She had worked with him for three years; she knew him well. Giving the tiniest nods, she moved back, her limp hair swaying with the motion.

Rowan turned back to Bonneville. His eyes slid off hers and widened. Alarmed, she followed his gaze.

He thought of Loren. The crackling magic pulsed in his hands -- and he threw them forward. A bolt of lightning shot ahead, crossing the distance between them in a split second and striking the cracked wall, closer to Bonneville than before. A whistle followed by a bang told him Tylene had shattered the ice holding Dent.

Rowan threw another bolt of lightning with a yell, his fury insatiable. It struck Bonneville in her outstretched arm, the ice still forming on her palm. The light threw her face into sharp relief, her eyes widening in surprise and a scream in her throat. The magic swallowed her arm and smashed into the wall behind, creating another crater. She crashed onto the ground, shrieking. Rowan's magic didn't have the incapacitating nature of Seiren's blue runes, but it was deadly enough.

Bonneville lay on her back, writhing, her right shoulder ending in a bloody mess. Blood pulsed steadily onto the ground. Her eyes rolled like a maniac, hoping for an escape route, but she was bleeding too severely to even manage getting up. Her feet swept the pool of blood across the concrete ground.

She spat at him. "You got lucky, you little shit! Don't think you're better than me!"

"I don't think I'm better than you. You are just scum. There is no comparison." Rowan's voice was deadly calm. His narrowed eyes stared down at her. The rage had burnt away, leaving a still sea in his mind with a terrible vortex just beneath the surface. He clapped his hands together. A trail of fire jumped from his hands onto her body, burning away the torn black trousers. Her screaming jumped in pitch as the flesh bubbled, releasing an acrid, charred scent, and the skin began to blister. The flames ate away at her. She scrabbled back as much as she could with no arms, but the flames continued, like sparks caught onto a dry haystack. He clenched his fist. The fire went out.

Just as Bonneville's breath eased, he clapped his hands again. She shrieked, his fire streaking up her leg and raising bubbling blisters in its wake. Her legs kicked out, useless, as the flames consumed her flesh through to the yellow fat layer, and that, too, vaporised, crisping black at the edges. Her wails did nothing to his emptiness on the inside. He frowned. He'd expected more satisfaction, seeing Loren's murderer reduced to a pathetic state of her former self, weeping and unable to fend for herself.

He just felt hollow.

"Mage Woodbead!" From what felt miles away, Tylene called out to him. She stood beside the crumpled Dent. Another casualty of war, because Rowan was too weak to save him. "Don't do this. This isn't you!"

He stared at her, barely processing the words. They made little sense.

He glanced down at Bonneville and almost out of reflex clapped his hands again. The fire intensified with every clap, eating away at her legs until there was nothing but white bone and tendons. Bonneville's face was covered in sweat, her eyes rolling, barely conscious. Her cries weakened until they became just whimpers. He didn't feel any better. He gripped the front of his tattered cloak over his heart. Perhaps he should just end this. It had dragged on long enough.

Just when he raised his hands to bring them together again, a voice from behind cried out to him, "Rowan, don't!"

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