Vyrin pressed the knife against Cayra's throat, drawing a red line. "True betrayal reverses all intentions, all loyalties; the Turnabout King always wins; that is why I will survive when you have not."
He backed away. The rest of the party watched in agonized silence, unwilling to risk Cayra's life.
"Idiots," Vyrin sneered as he reached the stairwell. His arm moved sharply. Everyone shouted. Vyrin's face paled.
Cayra danced out of the circle of Vyrin's arms. He slumped to his knees, his knife stained with his own blood.
"How?" he gurgled.
"You said it yourself," said Cayra. "Every intention reversed."
The Sweat Of The Peasant
21 hours ago