Zelzad’s spectral blade flashed in the dark as she sliced through the

  oncoming horde of demonic automata. A wave of energy erupted from the

  sword, launching several of the war machines away.

  She whipped around just in time to block a sword and flame strike

  from a new foe. Arenya had heard of models that could cast magic

  unaided, but she’d never seen one before. The two-and-a-half-meter

  machine was the color of rust, with two bright yellow balls of light

  forming eyes. The creature’s useless mouth was shaped in a permanent

  sneer, showing sharpened yellowed metal instead of teeth - automata

  couldn’t talk, or at least these ones couldn’t.

  At such size, staying too close to it would be asking for death.

  Zelzad took a few tentative steps backward after a glance behind to

  ensure no others approached too closely, only to notice Drav being

  pushed back by two more automata behind her. She dashed in, sword held

  high, and -

  “So how many more times are we gonna rehearse this tonight? I’m tired.”

  The automata froze around Zelzad and Drav, battlefield growing transparent to show the true shape of the practice room.

  Cartalis rubbed her eyes. “I concur with Ya’el. These illusion

  machines are impressively automated, and keeping them active is possible

  without focusing too terribly much on them, but even that much mana is

  becoming a challenge at this time of night.”

  How the school had set up the enchantments to have such impressive

  practice arenas, complete with opponents, and yet not kill their

  students, Arenya had had no idea. Their time spent here lately had shown

  her, though: the automata weren’t even real for the most part, instead

  primarily illusory and given a temporary semblance of life by someone

  else. Their blades hurt, but they weren’t real, and couldn’t cut.

  “I still can’t believe you want to do a choreographed fight scene during the concert,"

  said Ya’el. How are we gonna have time to play music and do our wacky

  stuff when we keep interrupting it for all the fighting?"

  “We’ve been over this, Ya’el.” Drav arose from the ground and wiped

  off some dust from the automata off his pants. “We’re not just

  musicians, we’re performers, and that means we need to do a performance. We wanna get more serious now.”

  Arenya stayed quiet as the two began to argue - not just because she

  had seen them argue this countless times by now, and not just because

  she too was extremely sleepy. She couldn’t stop thinking about Professor

  Kazurist’s words the day before.

  “So we’ll still have plenty of time for that awesome drum solo you cooked up…”

  What would her parents think? She wasn’t sure, but that she’d felt a

  need to tell Daniel not to say anything meant she was nervous. But about

  what?

  “You said I could wear any kind of outfit I wanted, but then you insisted it had to ‘fit the theme’…”

  Would they get angry at her? They’d all known that the city would

  have an impact on her, though perhaps not quite like this. It’s not like

  they’d threaten to disown her, though.

  “I know you want a role that lets you go wild, but those days are behind us now. It doesn’t mean we can’t have fun…”

  They were friendly with Daniel and she’d never heard them say too

  much negative about demons. And anyway, they wouldn’t even know what

  metal was, so how could they judge her for it?

  “I just don’t want to be uptight royalty or an honor-bound warrior - screw rigid roles, do something bonkers…”

  Despite all those logical arguments, Arenya could feel her heart

  pound harder at the thought of explaining it to them in the half-written

  letter in her room. Hello, Mom, Dad. My new friends play metal music!

  Stolen content alert: this content belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences.

  “I preferred the old days, when you let me strip on stage…”

  But at the end of the day, what is the worst that could happen?

  Professor Kazurist was surely exaggerating the danger. Sure, Drav and

  Zelzad could be unpredictable at times, but they were kind in their way

  and never went that far into depravi…

  Wait.

  What did Ya’el just say?

  “Ya’el, come on! It’s not that much to ask that you don’t flash the audience between songs anymore.”

  Cartalis, now sitting on the floor next to the automaton control

  cubes, turned to Ya'el with a look of sheer mortification. “Pray tell,

  when you… ahem… what was - how long ago - how far - You know what? Don’t

  even attempt to answer. Ignorance seems preferable.”

  Arenya, for her part, found herself with nothing to say again, though

  not for the same reason as before. Suddenly the song about the woman

  doing depraved acts to her male victims made a bit more sense.

  Zelzad turned to them, an expression halfway between apology and

  trying not to laugh. “We liked to get drunk and do dumb stuff on stage.

  Ya’el would, uh, go a bit further than the rest of us. I'd be a bit

  surprised if you hadn't figured that out at least a bit by now. We got

  away with it until the school found out.”

  Arenya started to wonder at that whether Professor Kazurist had a

  point after all. Surely she’d never stoop so low as to… They would

  never… they left that behind. Of course they had.

  Right?

  “Do you promise,” asked Arenya, “and I mean promise, that you won’t pull that kind of thing anymore?”

  “No,” said Ya’el.

  “Yes,” said Drav.

  They stopped and glared at each other.

  As Arenya sat in awkward silence, an idea struck her. A terrible, terrible, terrible idea. One she should just forget about and never, ever share.

  She shared it.

  “What if you played the daughter of the Hashess? If we say that

  Hardel forced you into an outfit he chose, then we can justify it as

  part of the show.”

  Drav and Ya’el both looked at her, then back at each other.

  “She’s the one who jumps off the-”

  “Yes.”

  “And she’s the one who Hardel-”

  “Yes.”

  Ya’el’s face remaind blank for a moment, before splitting into a wide grin, her exhaustion forgotten. “Oh, yes. Now that is an idea. It’s so disgusting! Now that is a performance I can get behind. Drav, why didn’t you come up with that?”

  Drav hrmmed. “I didn’t think we were gonna show the princess… Didn’t think Arenya would like that. Just, please don’t go too overboard?”

  “Fine.” Ya’el sighed and muttered something about not being able to have any fun these days. “Carta, we gotta choreograph this!”

  “Don’t… call me that, please,” muttered Cartalis from her position on

  the floor. She lay half-asleep now, using one of the automaton control

  cubes as a pillow. “Let’s… handle it tomorrow?”

  “No, there’s no time to waste! I gotta figure out how to look the most…"

  Again, Arenya found herself rather struck. Maybe she really was going

  too far on some things, if even Drav found them questionable. Ya’el did

  seem like she was missing the point of the daughter of the Hashess -

  she was abused by Hardel, not supposed to be enjoying the idea of being

  forced to dress and dance to his whims. But then again, it was Arenya’s

  idea!

  "Hey, Arenya, you were telling me about this follower thing.

  How men have to agree to give their wives a divorce, and there's no way

  for a wife to leave if the husband doesn't want to, so sometimes they'd

  just, like, beat the crap out of some sleazebag who wouldn't divorce

  his wife?"

  "Umm... yeah. There are stories of the dragon sages

  breaking recalcitrant husbands' arms to force them to sign the divorce

  warrants, though they aren't too common."

  And then, Ya'el did something Arenya would never in a million years have imagined her doing.

  She .

  "That's

  it! That's it! I wanna be the immortal wandering soul of the daughter

  of the Hashess, going around finding abusive dirtbags and torturing the out of them so they don't have to kill themselves like I did!"

  What would Professor Kazurist say to this. Probably that she’d gone too

  far. She needn’t abandon Drav and Zelzad or all these wild ideas, nor

  did she think she could bring herself to, but perhaps they could scale

  it back just a little?

  Or perhaps not, she admitted to herself as she smiled. Ya'el was

  finally learning something about being a Follower, and they were having

  so much fun, after all.

  But despite all that, it truly was quite late. Arenya stood and

  stretched. Deciding what to do seemed like it would be best as

  tomorrow’s problem. “Good night, everyone. Cartalis, can you get home

  yourself or do you need me to walk you?”

  But of course, Cartalis was now thoroughly awake as well, as they

  discussed in vivid detail what the color of the smoke would be as the

  daughter of the Hashess cried out her lament and flung herself off the

  roof of Hardel’s palace.

  What a strange world she’d found herself in… All that remained was determining whether it was a good one.