Traitor! Finale

There was a saying in Highcliff: “Only a friend knows exactly where to stab you—and still makes you thank them for it.”

It’d never felt truer now.

Elisa knew every twitch in Pauline’s stance, every weight shift, every half-second tell before a strike. Unfortunately, Pauline knew hers too—and unlike Elisa, Pauline hadn’t spent the last five years playing diplomat and pretending a quill was just as good as a blade.

There was no polite way to say it: Elisa was rusty. Her body moved, but slower than memory. Muscle remembered, but not quite fast enough.

If she hadn’t started training again, then she wasn’t sure she would survive Pauline’s assaults, let alone lose.

Should she accept the duel—and of course she would, because pride was an insufferable thing—she’d be on the defensive from the first strike. Every instinct in her body screamed don’t, but she’d already drawn the metaphorical line in the dirt.

This wasn’t about Highcliff’s future anymore.

“Alright then, Pauline. You want to prove your point? Want to recruit even more kids and pretend the last five years of progress meant nothing?”

“I don’t… I don’t disagree.” Her voice cracked at the edge, the steel faltering. “You’re right. I—was right. Daniel’s the one ramping up recruitment. Not me.”

Elisa’s eyes narrowed. “Then why are you here with a blade in your hand instead of standing beside me?”

“Because the demonkin killed my mom and dad, you daft shit. Their deaths had to mean something!”

“So the truth comes out…” Kael said quietly. His gaze dropped for a moment. “It’s not really my place to comment. I’m still the oppressor in all of this. We are the ones who simply couldn’t leave Highcliff well enough alone. But even if I kill myself where I stand, it still wouldn’t change anything. We’re an empire with ambitions for the rest of the world, a machine that needs to fuel to keep running. And I’m bound to it—whether I face it or not.”

His eyes drifted toward the smoke curling over the rooftops.

“Should I be replaced…” He paused, jaw tightening. “The next one won’t hesitate to remake Highcliff in the demonkin’s image completely.” Another breath. “It’s just a pity you haven’t recognized that and resorted to whatever this is.”

"If you keep thinking you’re just ‘holding the line’, then you’re already part of the problem. You are the line. External circumstances are just a convenient excuse.”

“What do you want from us, Pauline?” Elisa said.

“Tch. Us.”

“Shut the fuck up. I'm being serious. What can we do, Pauline? We are stuck in multiple rocks and hard places. You are asking for Highcliff to do the impossible.”

Pauline shook her head. “Let’s stop stalling, then.”

When things inevitably fell to silence, and they took their places on the muddy ground, the sound of the wind could not have blared louder. It was overcast, which did not help her visibility at all.

Out the corner of Elisa’s eye, she knew the people were watching. Some had a hand raised to cover their mouths, probably thinking the same thing as herself: Pauline was going to wipe the floor with her and leave not a speck of dust.

Elisa knew that if she couldn’t fight the proper Highcliffian way, it’d delegitimise her place as Highcliff’s representative. And things will fall apart faster than Highcliff fell that fateful day.

It was like a crack in the air.

The moment Pauline moved, Elisa was already shifting her weight.

A snap of wood—num-chuks carving through the air. Elisa stepped back, parried high. The force of the blow jolted through her forearm. 

Another swing—low, sharp—Elisa spun, barely ducking in time. Wet mud kicked up beneath her boots.

Elisa widened the space between them again. She shuddered a breath. This was unsustainable.

Pauline soon pressed the advantage. One strike, then another. A rhythm—tight, controlled. By comparison, Elisa was lacking.

Elisa caught the edge of a strike with her elbow, winced, stumbled half a step, then rebounded—shoulder-first, driving forward.

Their weapons cracked in a brief clash, num-chuks locking mid-motion. Gasps in the crowd, some exclamations here and there.

This was a level of Highcliffian martial prowess unseen since the Blac’hil era. Free entertainment, Elisa supposed.

Bodies twisted, weight shifting. Elisa broke away, fluid—something amounting to precision this time. Pauline lunged again, but her stance wavered.

Her heel caught the dirt. She slipped—just slightly—enough for Pauline to graze her ribs. A breath knocked out of her. The pain stinged.

Another exchange. Fast. Tight arcs. 

Arms were getting sore. Movement slowing. But Elisa had to keep going, had to!!

A feint—Elisa stepped in, and by the skin of her teeth… the num-chuks flew out Pauline’s hands, flopping onto the ground with a squelch. Things happened fast in the Martial Arts. Especially when you caught your opponent off-guard.

A flick of the wrist, a cheap trick. Elisa’s favorite technique.

Silence.

Pauline’s shoulders rose and fell with each breath. Sweat clung to her brow. Her fists curled, then opened. Again and again.

Elisa didn’t advance any further. The fight was ‘won’ already, judging by the fact Pauline was scrambling to pick up the weapon.

No, her heart wasn’t in it to begin with.

Eventually, Pauline couldn’t bear it. She dropped to her knees. Stayed there for a while, not moving.

For a moment, there was only silence—wind, the faint crackle of a torch guttering nearby, the distant clatter of a loose shutter.

Then the sound broke.

A choked, uneven wail—low at first, then cracking.

She buried her face in her hands.

“I’m sorry.”

The words tumbled out between gasps, barely holding shape.

“I’m sorry—I didn’t know what else to do—I just… everything’s—”

Another sob. Rougher. Raw.

She stayed hunched forward, breath hitching, hands clawing at her own sleeves like she could hold something together if she gripped hard enough.

Her head dropped lower, voice quieter still.

“There’s something I should’ve told you. Should’ve. A long time ago.”

Elisa frowned.

Pauline swallowed hard, before uttering a few words that’d change Elisa’s perception of reality forever. “It’s about your father.” Her shoulders hunched tighter. “He’s alive.”

The rebel matriarch didn’t dare look up.

“He’s alive, Elisa. I’ve seen him. Talked to him. He—he’s not who I thought he’d be. And I don’t know why he never told you. The secrecy. He even vowed that if I said a word of this to you, he’d kill me himself. And I suspect… the answer’s back in Ma Gogilka Lakeside.”

“It was razed,” Elisa half-pleaded, half-said.

“Not so.”

Pauline’s voice cracked again.

“He said… he said you shouldn’t know everything about where you grew up. He wouldn’t explain why. Just that he did something terrible to achieve something good. Something that got the Forest Gods to concede territory and give the Tide a place to stay.”

A gust of wind passed, fluttering loose dirt and ash across the empty ground.

Pauline’s breath caught again. “I didn’t want to keep this from you. I thought it’d distract you from our duty. Some friend I am.”

Elisa didn’t move for a moment.

But something in her posture shifted—barely a breath, barely a twitch.

“Where is he.”

“The Eternal Shade. One of our old outposts. The gods seemed more amicable to accommodate us once you left. It hollowed out just for us…” Pauline said, barely louder than the wind. “He’s there. He’s more on the advisory side of things.”

Elisa’s fists clenched at her sides.

“Do you have anything more you can give us?" Kael asked. "How do we know you’re not ly—”

Pauline snapped. “You’d think I’d lie to one of my best friends, demon?”

“Be that as it may…” Kael stepped forward, eyes still fixed on Pauline. His tone was calm—far too calm. “You endangered my life. Our lives.”

Pauline started to speak, but he raised a hand—not in aggression, but finality.

“You may regret it. You may carry guilt. I even believe you. But I don’t live in a fantasy world anymore. Regret doesn’t make you safe. Intentions don’t unmake consequences. Thusly, I ask that you leave these lands.”

Pauline’s breath hitched.

“I practice compassion. Elisa, moreso,” Kael said, almost gently. “But compassion is not permission to run rampant and attack nobility. In any other nation, this would have gotten you killed. And this...” his gaze lingered.

She nodded slowly. No defence that would make sense now.

“Please, Pauline,” Kael added, softly. “Live out the rest of your life, far from here. Highcliff’s taken enough from you. Highcliff will be in good hands. We will make sure of that.”

She picked up her num-chuks with trembling hands.

Elisa didn’t watch her as Pauline left, head down, sobbing. She knew she would keep her word. Pauline was blunt like that.

No. Her eyes were already on the horizon.

Already turning toward the woods.