The jovial music from the piano greeted his ears as he pushed the doors aside, stepping into the tavern. Raucous laughter, clinking glasses, and drunken banter joined the cacophony as he stepped further inside.

Jonas sidled up to the bar and sat down, his eyes drifting across to a man with a metal star pinned to his chest. A deputy. Pulling the brim of his hat further down, Jonas’ hand flexed and brushed the gun on his hip. He didn’t look up when the barkeep approached him.

“What’ll ya have, stranger?” he asked.

“Bourbon. Cheap,” Jonas said. He placed a small sack on the bar in front of him, still keeping his eyes down, shifting toward the deputy at the end of the bar. “The bottle.”

With a shrug, the barkeep reached under the bar and placed a clear bottle of ruddy, brown liquid in front of Jonas. He took it, popping the cork off, and taking one long swig. He reached into his vest to pull out his flask and emptied the bottle into the metallic container.

The barkeep had finished counting the coins in the pouch and tried to slide the extra ones back toward Jonas. He stood from his stool, tired eyes still on the deputy. “Keep it,” Jonas said.

“‘preciate it, friend,” the barkeep said, scooping the coins back into the sack. Jonas said nothing, taking another swig from his flask, approaching the deputy at the bar.

He had been watching him for a while. The man didn’t notice him, as he tried talking to the woman in the stool next to him. She didn’t seem to enjoy his attention. But he wouldn’t back off.

Jonas watched him reach for his gun, raising his voice. “Maybe a trip down to the jailhouse’ll straighten ya out,” the deputy growled.

The man’s name appeared in Jonas’ mind. Along with words like ‘corrupt’, ‘wrongful arrest’, and a host of others. And still, he was a deputy.

“I haven’t done anything!” the woman protested.

“You’ve assaulted an officer of the town of Jericho,” the deputy replied.

Jonas’ eyes shifted around the room. The people there, in the tavern, moved uncomfortably in their seats. Eyes looked away from the scene.

Done this before Jonas thought. They’re afraid of him.

It was when he grabbed the woman’s arm and tried to pull her from her seat that Jonas acted. He stepped up to the bar.

“Not so rough there, friend,” he said.

The deputy turned, his dark eyes set upon him. “Stay outta this! Official business!”

“Don’t look like it to me,” Jonas said, lowering his head so the brim of his hat covered his eyes.

The deputy shoved the woman and let go of her arm, stepping closer to Jonas. “What did you just say to me?”

“I said that don’t look like official business,” Jonas replied. “Been watching this whole time. She’s done nothing to you.”

The deputy stepped even closer, reaching for his badge and pulling it forward, still attached to his shirt. “You see this badge?”

“I do,” Jonas said. “Know what it means, too.”

“Then get your fuckin’ nose outta my business. I run this show.”

“Seems to me the Sheriff runs this show. Not you,” Jonas said. “Says ‘deputy’ on that there badge, doesn’t it?”

The deputy’s eyes narrowed.

“That old man know what you’re up to? Or is Burton just another piece of shit like you?”

“Best watch your mouth, stranger. I don’t like that tone of yours.”

Everything in the room went deathly quiet. Jonas could hear some movement. Others from the law of Jericho, more than likely. Moving into position.

Jonas brushed aside his long, black duster. He didn’t touch the gun holstered there. It had its desired effect. The deputy recognized it. The handle. In black. As Sheriff Burton said.

“Th-the the d-demon...” he said, tripping over his words.

Jonas knew it. From that first time he’d heard what Sheriff Burton had called him... when they first started running in this territory... in his gun, he carved the face of a demon. The Demon in Black...

“You were saying something, friend?” Jonas asked.

“Now, you just stay right there,” the deputy said, backing away. “Y-you’re wanted for... for the murder of-”

“Save your breath. I know what I did.”

The deputy drew his gun. Jonas didn’t move.

“Go on and... and surrender quietly now. Drop that shooter on the floor.” The deputy said, motioning with his gun.

“You’ll just shoot me if I try...”

“Go on!” the deputy shouted. “Drop it!”

Jonas’s tired, icy gaze watched the deputy’s hand tremble. “Damn coward...”

“What!?” The deputy stepped closer. “I’ll show you, boy!”

“Will you now?”

“You’re the damn coward!”

“Come over here and say that...” Jonas said.

Now he was less than a foot away from Jonas, staring right in his eyes. “I said... you’re the damn coward, demon! You gonna do something about it?”

Jonas smirked. Moody son of a bitch... he thought. A coward and stupid.

“No,” Jonas said. “I just wanted you closer so she could get behind you.”

“What?”

As he turned, the back end of a shotgun slammed into his face, laying him low, putting him to the ground. A tall, sturdy built woman stood over him, dressed in a white suit, purple vest, black shirt, matching white hat, and a pair of pistols on her hips. Artema.

She and Jonas eyed each other for a moment. But that was all they had. The rest of the lawmen in the bar rushed in to attack. Artema ducked a chair swung at her head and swung the shotgun like a club, battering lawmen left and right.

Jonas didn’t have time to react as he was backed into a corner by several lawmen. They eyed the window behind him, next to the bar, and rushed him. Jonas could predict what was coming...

The lawmen picked him up, slamming him down on the bar, and holding him there. They forcibly slid him across, using enough force to shatter the window and toss Jonas clean through it as he tumbled to the ground outside.

This gave him time to draw his gun but he groaned as he got up, feeling sharp pricking pain in several spots on his arms. He checked one of them and noticed blood came away on his hand.

“Damn glass...” he said to himself.

As he rushed around to the front of the tavern, the swinging doors burst open as two deputies were launched backwards out into the dusty street, followed by Artema, shotgun still in hand. By now, the rest had drawn their guns and followed her outside while she ran to Jonas. The pair of them ducked for cover as shots rang out, whizzing past them.

“Had to go and pick a fight...” Artema chided.

“What was I supposed to do? Let him arrest her?”

The two ran to their horses, clambering into the saddles and running off, out of town, avoiding the mismatch in numbers. After a long ride, the two came to a stop, breathing heavily, climbing back down and walking to their hidden camp.

“You asked what you were supposed to do?” Artema said. “Not pick a fight.”

“I couldn’t just let him do that,” Jonas argued.

“That’s not what I mean. You went in there to start that, didn’t you?”

Jonas went silent.

“Damn it, Jonas...”

“I knew he’d be there...”

“And you’ve been following him? Why? We’ve got a plan to stick to, Jonas.”

“I know, but that lead turned up dry. Had to do something good before we left town.”

“That ain’t good, what you did,” Artema said. “What you did was nearly bring the whole law of Jericho down on us. Suppose they followed us, and we led them all the way back to Lana. To our town. People in Lana aren’t prepared for that kind of fight. They’d all likely be dead. What you did, while with good intentions, was pretty damn stupid. You could have been killed. And more of us. Just because you’re frustrated, that doesn’t mean you can just take it out on the first lawman who looks at you sideways.”

“All right, I get it...”

“And besides, it wasn’t a fruitless trip.”

Jonas furrowed his brow as the two of them sat down to make their camp.

“While you were being stupid, I got to talking to folks. It’s not a portal but I did hear a rumour about someone riding in and out of Jericho.”

“Someone?” Jonas asked.

“A sharpshooter. Gets her money by saving people from the hangman’s noose. Shoots clean through the rope, as I’ve heard it. Who does that sound like?”

Jonas let out a long breath. “Only person who could make that kind of shot is...”

“That’s right. Elyn. Been a real thorn in the sides of Jericho’s law. Likely kept herself laying low so she hasn’t heard we’re around or tried to find us.”

“Which means we need to find her,” Jonas said.

“That it does. So we ain’t heading back just yet. There’s still work to be done.”

...

The light drizzle pattered against the wooden roof of the outpost building. Stretched along the border of the Harrison Valley territory, the wooden wall was old, water-logged, and rickety. Dense forests and steep, rocky slopes surrounded the only way into the territory. And a traveller walked the road, her sharp, purple eyes falling upon the small structure where four men waited. Three of them stepped out onto the dirt road to meet her, the fourth watching from the window.

She was shorter than them by a fair way. Shining, blue hair, cut in a bob, part of her long bangs obscuring half her face. A green, wide-brimmed hat sat upon her head, matching the vest she wore over her black, collared blouse. Her boots, too, were the same green, contrasted against the snug, black trousers covering her legs.

The woman had rolled up her sleeves, the muggy weather causing her discomfort. Her forearms, toned and strong, belied her true nature underneath. A warrior. So also said the wide machete nestled in its sheath at her left hip, opposite the holster with her revolver on the right.

Her way was barred, the three men standing there, and she stopped in her tracks. Silent. Waiting. One of the men stepped forward, thick, mean, with a confident smirk upon his face.

“Good day to ya, little lady,” he said. “This here’s the border into Harrison County. You lost?”

“I’m exactly where I intend to be,” the woman said, shielding her purple eyes with the brim of her hat.

“Well I’d say welcome but ah... ya got yourself some contraband there.”

The woman didn’t respond.

“No weapons crossin’ the border. That’s my orders. So ya just turn ‘em over to us... and we’ll send ya on your way.”

“Maybe even help ya find it,” said a shorter man, to his left, a wicked grin on his face. “Purty girl like you ought to have... help.”

“I need nothing from you,” the woman said. “Stand aside.”

The first man to speak stepped closer, but stopped when the woman’s hand flexed near her gun. “No cause for trouble, little lady,” he said. “But them’s the rules. Course we could see to it that there are... other ways, of lettin’ ya pass.”

She narrowed her eyes at his tone. “Not interested.”

He shrugged. “Shame. Seems we gotta take them weapons then.”

“You won’t touch them...”

“Afraid we will,” the man said. “Orders are orders.”

She finally raised her eyes, noting the cocky smirk on his face. “You have no such orders...” she said.

“Now why’d you go and say a thing like that?”

“Your face... it betrays the lie.”

The lead man laughed and stepped yet closer. The woman’s hand flexed again, this time touching the handle of her machete. He smiled.

“Little lady... ain’t no cause for you to use that big ol’ knife there. Just hand ‘em over. My boys and I... we’ll guide you to Harrison. A man’s word is his honour.”

“Then you have none,” the woman said.

With a smirk, her moved for his gun. His hand touched metal... and a blur caught his vision. She moved in a blink. With his fingers brushing the gun at his hip, he was forced to stop. The blade sat at his throat, touching the skin. He met the eyes of the woman. The fury there.... it forced him to betray the terror in his own.

“E-easy...” he said. “Let’s... let’s not do-”

“Quiet,” the woman said. “Stand aside.”

With the subtlest movements, he moved his hand from his gun and waved to the men behind them. “Y-you heard her... move.”

“What?” one of the men behind him said.

“I said move!” he barked, swallowing hard, fearful when the act pressed the blade tighter against his throat.

The pair of men stepped aside. The lead man caught her eyes again...

A tinge of regret. And a temptation... No she thought to herself. That’s not who you are, Taria.

“L-listen...” he swallowed again, wincing. “You got what you want. Just pass on through. No trouble from us. All right?”

Taria gritted her teeth. Took in a short breath. These men... their intentions... she thought. They will follow...

With one strong arm, she grabbed the man by the scruff of the neck. He gasped as terror threatened to overtake him...

“H-hey! What are you-”

“Shut up!” He prepared to feel the slice of the blade against his throat but, instead, the fist shut around the handle of the machete met his face, between the eyes. He fell limp, as she let him fall to the ground, out cold.

The other two men drew their pistols but she was on them. One swing removed the gun from one man’s hand. Another disarmed the second. They were too slow to fight back.... and she knocked them out like she had the first. Sheathing her blade again, she looked at the ground where they lay. Her hand brushed her gun.... and she walked on through the border.

No more... she thought to herself. Let the elements do their work...

Taria spared a sidelong glance at the fourth man inside the outpost, cowering. He hadn’t dared show himself. And he ducked beneath the window as Taria passed and looked his way.

The blue-haired warrior walked on into the Harrison Valley territory. As she disappeared from view, one final man emerged from the trees. Tired, furious grey eyes watched her go from behind square-rimmed glasses. He adjusted the grey bowler hat atop his head and scratched at the beard on his face.

Drawing his gun, he looked to the unconscious men on the ground. With a smile, he nodded to the woman who had long left them behind.

“Monsters...” he said, raising his gun. He fired one shot, through the head of one of the men. Walking to the next two, he finished them the same way, finally stepping inside the outpost to the final man there.

“Boss!” he said. “W-what-”

“No,” the man said. “No more speaking.”

“M-Mr. Jade-”

He raised his gun, level with the man’s eyes. “I said no more.”

He nodded frantically. Mr. Jade drew back the hammer.

“Those orders he spoke of...” Mr. Jade said. “I issued no such thing.”

“B-boss-”

Jade pressed the gun against his forehead. “I will not warn you again...”

He remained silent.

“Answer me one thing. How many? How many travellers have you murdered? Robbed? How many have you... no. I will not speak it. I need no answer...”

The man remained silent, trembling.

“I know it. Too many. When I assumed my role, do you know what my goal was? What it remains?”

The man didn’t answer.

“To remove monsters from this world. Monsters like them.” He pointed outside without taking his eyes off the fourth man.

“It is my burden to bear for not acting sooner... but I must know. To discern monster from human. And I have now.”

The man continued shaking, trying to back away, with nowhere to go.

“And you have showed yourselves. So... now I have come to a decision. We in Harrison County no longer have need of a manned border outpost.”

The man’s eyes went wide.

“Therefore, sir, I must inform you. Your services are no longer required.”

“Boss! Wai-”

Birds flew from the trees as the gunshot rang out across the landscape, frightened by the booming shot. From outside the outpost, the window, painted red, bore the silhouette of a man slumping backward, falling forward, and collapsing to the floor. Another stepped away, holstering his pistol, and stepping to the dirt road, staring into the valley ahead of him.

“I shall have to thank her,” he said to himself as he followed after her, at a slow pace, walking across the border and back into the valley territory.

...

The shackles on her wrists held her tight behind the back of the chair. Ropes around her body, framing her chest, keeping her legs bound at the ankles, knees, and thighs, pinning her arms, tying her ankles to the shackles on her wrists... they didn’t budge as she struggled.

Mouth packed to bursting with cloth, sealed in by another pulled between her teeth, another tied tightly behind her head, covering her mouth, and yet another to cover her face from the nose down, pressed tightly to her lips, silencing and gagging her.

She threw her head back and moaned.... as though in enjoyment.

Short, thick orange hair was tossed from her soft red eyes, her bangs swaying as she struggled. Shining ivory skin, long legs, well toned muscles, and a shapely figure would have led any onlooker to stare.

The bound woman wore form fitting clothing; tight, red trousers, black riding boots, a black, short sleeved blouse and red vest. Behind her, a long red coat, black wide-brimmed hat, and a plethora of ammo belts hung from a coat rack along with her holstered pistol. A gleaming, silver rifle lay carefully perched on a rack beside it, a bandolier of bullets nestled on the desk below it.

Letting out another loud moan, Elyn drew several heavy breaths before fumbling around the pockets of her trousers. She pulled out a key and missed several times before unlocking the shackles on her wrists, quickly untying the ropes on her body and pulling off the cloth that gagged her.

Elyn stood up and stretched her muscles, letting out a satisfied sigh. She reached to her vest pocket and checked her watch.

“Plenty of time,” she said to herself. “Hanging’s not till noon.”

Slowly and elegantly, Elyn placed the black, gunslinger hat with its wide brim atop her head. She strapped on a bandolier of bullets across her torso from the right shoulder, attaching the gun belt that held her pistol to her hip. Throwing on the long, red coat, Elyn gingerly laced her fingers around the rifle, gently removing it from the rack.

She pried open the breech and the bolt, loading in 8 rounds one at a time, cocking back the bolt to chamber the first bullet. She smiled to herself as she slung the rifle over her shoulder by its connecting strap.

“Time to go to work,” she said to herself.

Elyn stepped out the door of her little shack and climbed up into the saddle of her black horse, slinging the rifle into its holster. Her target was a tree just outside the town of Jericho, off the official records, away from the public eye. In other words; illegal. No justification for the hanging.

They had the brown-skinned woman sitting atop a horse. Her hands were tied behind her back, arms pinned by a thick, tight coil of rope, and a thick cloth tied on over her mouth and nose. Elyn casually climbed down from her horse, hidden by thick brush, unholstered and stared down the sights of her rifle. Didn’t take her long to spot the noose hanging around the woman’s neck.

She was short, this woman. Dressed in a blue blouse, black, knee length skirt and tall sandals, black fingerless gloves on her hands. Elyn had promised this girl, working alongside her, to save her from the gallows should the need arise. Her heart went out to the poor girl, brown eyes filled with fear. Her short, black hair was unmistakable. And if she ever found Meryn again, Elyn was certain the gold-eyed warrior would kill her if she didn’t save this girl. Saira.

Elyn didn’t like the odds. Four men surrounded the bound woman, one of them tightening the noose around her neck. She slowed her breathing and steadied her arms, letting her muscles tense up, though her arms remained relaxed as they supported the gun.

She eyed up the odds again and let out a short breath. “Damn it... might have to put them down...” Sadness crept into her voice. “Not much choice... can’t let them kill her...”

As one man finished tightening the noose, she waited for him to slap the horse and send it charging forward, to take itself out from under Saira and leave her hanging from the bough of the tree. She blocked out all other sounds. The birds, the crickets, the buzzing flies, the slight breeze at her back.... listening only for the crack of the man’s hand against the horse.

Her heartbeat echoed inside her head, her breathing slower, steadier, her aim true... then came the crack of the man’s hand. The horse whinnied, taking off, sliding Saira from its saddle. All in a split second, the poor girl was left hanging from her neck... but not even a second later, the rifled thundered, the bullet screamed through the air. It tore through the rope as Saira swung backward and she braced herself as best she could, falling down on her side, still bound and gagged.

The four men drew their guns, frantically searching for the source of the shot. None of them heard the click of the bolt being drawn back, ejecting the empty rifle shell, loading a new bullet into the chamber. They only reacted when another booming shot from the distance ripped a hole through the shoulder of the man nearest to Saira, laying him low, sprawled in the dirt.

This time they spotted her. In the distance. Between the bushes. The ‘flame-haired woman’ they called her. The one with the rifle, who thwarted hangings again and again. One of them took aim to open fire... when he was taken to the ground. Elyn jumped when she saw the blur of a figure tackle him and punch him repeatedly until he was unconscious. She spotted familiar, short locks of blue hair, in a bob cut.

“She’s here too...” Elyn said to herself. “Taria...”

While saying the name of her oldest friend, Taria tackled another man, heading for Saira, and took him down. The final man was still eyeing Elyn, trying line up a shot with his pistol. He never got the chance, as Elyn put a hole in his arm, making him drop his gun, and fall into the dirt with his allies.

Elyn drew back the bolt again, ejecting another spent shell, resting the rifle on her shoulder as she approached the tree. She watched Taria bend low and cut Saira free, helping her to her feet. Emerging from the bushes, Elyn and Taria met eyes for the first time.

“Glad to see a friendly face,” Elyn said. “Where you been?”

“Elyn...” Taria said. “Should have known those shots were from you.”

With a smile, Elyn nodded toward Saira. “You all right?”

“Shaken... but I’ll be fine,” Saira said. “Thanks for the rescue. And you too, Taria...”

“Saw those men drag you off into the woods. Had to follow. I recognized you. Couldn’t let them hurt you,” Taria said. “Didn’t expect to run into this one though...”

Elyn let her smile fade into her usual cocky smirk. “You gonna answer my question there, bandit hunter?”

Taria let out a bemused chuckle. “We’re a fair sight away from those days,” she said. “Across the border. It’s where I wound up. Somewhere... far. Made my way here when I started hearing rumours of this purple-haired mountain woman leading a rebellion. Figured that had to be-”

“Artema,” Elyn finished. “Wasn’t sure whether to believe that myself. Only just got here myself and haven’t been able to track them down. Found this sweet thing though,” Elyn said, gesturing toward Saira. “Offered to keep her safe.”

“How’d you get into that scrape anyway?” Taria asked.

“Long story,” Saira said. “The short of it is I’m doing anything I can to find Meryn.”

Taria nodded. “I can understand that. Hell, I think all three of us are after something similar.”

Before Elyn could say anything more, they heard a twig snap behind them. Taria drew her pistol, Elyn chambered a bullet and whirled around, toward the sound, and raised her rifle... but lowered it again.

“Speak of the damn devil...” Elyn said.

Jonas stopped dead, hands raised, Artema trailing just behind him. “Easy there... friendly faces,” Jonas said.

Elyn lowered her rifle and Taria relaxed. “So it is true...” Elyn said. “The purple haired mountain woman.”

“And the demon in black,” Taria added. “Thought that might be you.”

“You heard right,” Jonas said. “We came out this way when we heard shots. Came looking for this ‘flame-haired woman’ with a rifle Artema’s been looking into. Didn’t expect we’d find... all of you.”

“Looking for me, were you?” Elyn asked with a smirk. “To get me into this little rebellion of yours. That right?”

“That’s what we’re after,” Jonas said. “What do you say? You with us?”

“For Artema?” Elyn said. “Always. Just one question for you...”

Artema stepped forward. “Aurora?”

“I’ve been hoping to track her down. I’ve been isolated out here, saving folks from the gallows. Don’t hear much.”

“Head up to Gold Valley. I’ll take you there. Check in with the Sheriff out that way,” Artema said with a smile and a wink. “You’ll see.”

“The Sheriff? My bad girl’s gone all good has she?”

“You’ll have to see for yourself,” Artema said.

When the finished speaking, Taria stepped closer to Jonas and looked him in the eye. The anger, the sadness there, along with all the rumours... she didn’t need to ask.

“Celia-”

“Not here,” Jonas answered, sadly. “Not here...”

Taria gritted her teeth and her eyes blazed. “We find her then,” she said. “No matter the damn cost.”

“We’re working on it. She’s... in another world. Has to be. It was all by design. Jhana’s design...”

“Lanala too,” Artema said. “We’re trying to find our way to wherever they are. If-”

“Artema,” Jonas said. “Remember what we’ve said... don’t put that evil thought into the world.”

“Right... hard to remember sometimes...”

“What about Meryn?” Saira piped up when things went silent.

“Still looking,” Jonas said. “But she’s tough. I’m sure she’s around. We’ll hear about her sooner or later. Meantime... care to join us?”

Saira nodded. “Might be better in a group. Had too many close calls.”

Jonas nodded in return. “Good. We could use the numbers. Mirelle will be happy. I’m sure Luna will too.”

“Oh, you’ve found Moon Girl?” Elyn said.

“We did,” Artema said. “I’m sure she’ll be glad to snipe at you again.”

Elyn smiled. “I look forward to it.”

Jonas stepped forward to shake each woman’s hand. He finished with Elyn, the two sharing a long glance.

“Jonas... you’re not okay, are you?” Elyn asked.

He said nothing. Reading again he thought to himself.

Always came the reply in his head.

Forgot you could do that... Jonas thought. Mind jumping out of my head?

“Sorry...” Elyn said. “Old habits.”

“Don’t worry about it. And welcome.”

“Welcome to what?” Elyn asked.

“The group. The cause. And this world on fire... welcome to the fire, Elyn.”

Story Theme Song: Willyecho- Welcome to the Fire