May 27, 9 ATC

Outside the City of Guns N' Roses, the Confluence

Anti looked out over the waters of the Confluence, staring at the city of Guns N' Roses. The city was lit only by torchlight and moonlight, and Anti was jealous of even that. Zissman wanted their attack to catch them flatfooted, which meant they couldn't be seen as they approached in the night. Of course, this also meant navigating a fleet of river boats in the darkness of the night, for torchlight might alert the watchmen to their advance. Her ship had already been scuffed by three separate riverships on the way over, and if it kept up, she would have to give it a new paint job.

Anti ran her hand along the railing of her rivership, the River Princess. It had been a birthday gift from her father shortly before the end of Celtic's Revolt. For nearly ten years, it had served her faithfully, and she would never forgive herself if it was destroyed during the attack. She cast a glance at the man who had taken the helmsman's spot. Draco. She reminded herself to keep him away from the wheel at all costs.

The Herald, Zissman's personal rivership, pulled up next to the River Princess and dropped anchor. The men on Zissman's ship threw a gangplank over the gap between the two vessels and Zissman, ever flanked by Church soldiers, boarded Anti's ship.

"Anti," he said with far too much eagerness. "How is the fleet? Are we prepared to attack?"

Anti gave a brief glance at the ships around her. The seaships, strong and mighty, stood poised to barrage the city walls. Around them, the riverships swam about, each one bristling quietly with the conversation of the soldiers aboard. She nodded.

"We are," she said. "The seaships will weigh anchor and bombard the walls near the docks from here. Under the cover of their fire, the riverships and the soldiers on them will dock and storm the city."

Privately, Anti had her reservations about the plan. The seaships were the biggest part of it: for one, they were bulky and tough to maneuver in the shallower inland waters, which would make them easy targets, even at night. Second, a large part of their seaships had been diverted to this operation. The river navies of the Badaz League and Zissman's coalition were evenly matched, but the League had a much larger sea navy. If any seaships were lost, it would be a serious blow to the Church. Sending the riverships in under their fire also seemed to be a risk, both to the ships and the men, but Jannis and Faker had come up with this plan themselves. She trusted them enough to believe it would work, but she would tread carefully, nonetheless.

Zissman seemed to be satisfied with her recitation of the plan and gave an approving nod. "I trust you to coordinate these efforts," he said. "Will you be leading the charge or staying behind? You can stay on the Herald, if you wish."

"I'll lead the charge," she said, "but I won't be going into the city. Draco will do that."

"Why not just stay behind, then?" Zissman asked. "It would be safer, especially if you're not debarking."

Anti ran her hand along the vessel's railing and smiled. "The River Princess is my ship," she said, looking up at Draco. He was eyeing the steering wheel with far too much curiosity for her taste. "I don't trust anyone else with it. Besides, it's only fair that I go into this with my fleet."

"Fair enough," Zissman said. He plucked absentmindedly at the rose pendant he wore.

"Will you be joining the battle?" Anti asked. Zissman chuckled and shook his head.

"No," he said. "Jannis is the Church's military leader. I'm the spiritual leader, the political leader." He placed a hand on the pommel of his sword. "I'm alright with a sword, though I doubt I could help myself in a battle. It's why I remain back here."

"As you wish," Anti said. Her voice carried a trill of superiority that Zissman noticed, but he said nothing. "When should we begin?"

Zissman squinted at the city lights in the distance and clicked his tongue. "Give me five minutes to get out of range," he said. "Then, do as you please. Jannis and Faker will join your attack from the land, but they are waiting for your attack to begin."

"As you wish," Anti repeated. "Out of curiosity, can you swim?"

Zissman's face soured at the implication, but he nodded. "Every northern boy is taught to swim," he said, "in case we fall through the ice."

"You may need it," Anti said. "We'll probably draw most of their fire, but I can't promise all of it."

"Understandable," Zissman said. "Now, I believe I should take my leave. We've waited long enough." He called for his guards and retreated back onto the Herald without another word, and as soon as the gangplank was hauled back onto the ship, it quickly sailed out of sight.

Anti turned her attention to the impending attack, doing a quick tally of the ships in the water. She found that they were all there, and she ascended to the helm of the vessel.

Draco watched her as she took the wheel before turning his attention to the city. Underneath the helmet Zissman had commissioned for him, which had metal imprints of thorny vines all across the faceplate, she could tell he was smiling.

"Victory is in our grasp," he said, staring eagerly at the city walls. "Soon, Nitesco, Austin, and the rest of these heretics will trouble us no more."

"Victory will have to wait," Anti remarked. "The battle hasn't even begun."

Draco laughed at that, but he kept quiet. All the better, Anti thought. The less he talked, the more focused she could be.

A few more minutes passed, as Zissman directed, and she could hear her crew growing restless. At last, she signalled to her gunners that the assault would begin shortly. She turned the boat sideways, so her cannons could face the city.

"Alright, men," she said. "Fire when ready."

Opifexa wandered out onto the docks, peacefully meandering through the port. The docks were practically empty at this time of night, save for a few dockhands making sure the riverships in port were properly anchored. Most of Guns N' Roses' navy was deployed elsewhere, meaning there were few ships, and thus, few people. All the better for her.

Opifexa walked out onto one of the empty docks, looking out onto the Confluence. The lake seemed empty, and it was deceptively quiet, but she could tell there were a few ships still out there. Probably just fishing ships, though, she knew some of the fishermen went out at night to gather fish.

"I've missed this," she muttered to herself. Walking along the seashores of Renora often cleared her head, and though the Confluence was a smaller substitute, it would have to do. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath, enjoying the silence.

Suddenly, a loud bang shocked her back to reality. As soon as she opened her eyes, she saw a cannonball fly over her head and explode into the city wall behind her, erupting in a plume of smashed brick. Opifexa glanced back at the lake and saw the bright flashes of gunpowder coming off of ships in the lake, hailing the city with cannonballs. Opifexa didn't have time to think about who or how or why they were attacking. She just ran.

By the time she had climbed the capitol hill and returned to the Badaz Manor, the rest of the commanders had already assembled in the war room and were already chattering wildly amongst themselves. Nitesco, still in his sleepwear, hunched over a map of the city and was marking locations with a feather and ink. Gwydion and Austin, both already wearing leather armor and chain mail respectively, stared out the window at the city and barked locations at Nitesco, who scribbled them down at the map. Strike and Vulpix, both clearly exhausted, wore crinkled crimson uniforms. Strike stood next to Nitesco, watching him mark up the map, while Vulpix sat patiently with his crutches on his lap.

At once, Austin turned to see Opifexa standing in the doorway. "Opifexa!" She cried, and the room momentarily stopped buzzing to look up at her. "Where have you been?"

"Doing my midnight rounds at the docks," she said. "I ran back when their warships started shelling us."

"They're shelling the docks too?" Nitesco frantically asked. He quickly dipped his feather in the inkwell and scribbled more symbols around the dock's locations on the map.

"They're attacking us from all sides," Vulpix said uneasily. "Our scouts have reported that the enemy is massing at the walls, from both the peninsula and the plains toward the mountains. If they're attacking us from the water, we're totally surrounded."

"Your scouts got all of this already?" Opifexa asked.

"The capitol hill offers a good view of the surroundings," Strike said, not looking up from the map. "From the parapets of the castle or the parliament building, you can see most of the surrounding land. Even from here, we can see where they're trying to break through."

"Nitesco and I reinforced the walls after Celtic's Revolt," Gwydion spoke up, staring out the window. "They will hold, but not forever. At this rate, I estimate the city will be overrun by noon tomorrow."

"Noon," Opifexa breathed. So soon. They had thirteen to fourteen hours to hold out, and maybe get the refugees out on the way. "What will we do?"

"I plan to evacuate as many citizens as I can," Nitesco said, and he looked up from his scribblings. He had tears in his eyes. "I left them behind, once. I won't do that again."

"We won't be able to get them all out," Strike said. "At best, we could evacuate half. The tunnel is narrow, and we have thousands of people on our hands."

Nitesco looked down at the table and rapped his knuckles against it impatiently. "Damn it," he said. "Damn it!" he exclaimed again, and he slammed his hand onto the table. The inkwell fell over and began dripping onto the floor.

"There is nothing we can do except get an early start," Austin counseled. "These are your people. They will listen to you. Take the city guard and round them up. Get them through the escape passage. The remaining commanders can be divided up through the city."

"Our barracks are closest to the docks," Strike said, his voice uncharacteristically mellow. "I will lead the defense there. If they are shelling us there with so few ships in port, then they must mean to invade from there too."

"I can't much walk," Vulpix admitted, gesturing to his crutches. "But I can lead the defense of the capitol hill. The tunnel begins under the Parliament building, correct?"

"In the courtyard, in the mausoleum," Nitesco said.

"Then I will stay here. The road up the hill leads to the King's castle. I'll spare a few men to watch over the manor and the Parliament building, but I'll command the bulk of them from the castle."

Nitesco nodded. "Austin," he asked. "Can I trust you with the city's defense?"

"Yes" Austin said. "When they break through, we need to buy as much time for the citizens as possible. I can do that for you."

"I'll stay behind with Austin," Gwydion volunteered. Opifexa stepped forward. "I will as well," she said, though deep down she was afraid.

Nitesco shook his head. "No. I need you both to see to the citizens. Opifexa, I'm going to post you on capitol hill with Vulpix. While I go around and gather the people, you direct them to the tunnel. And Gwydion?" Gwydion nodded resolutely. "You will take a few men and go ahead to the end of the tunnel. If the camp at the end is compromised, we're trapped."

"Understood," he muttered gravely. The room went quiet for a second, and Nitesco sighed. "Twice in a month," he said. "Damn it all."

"Forgive me if I seem brusque," Strike said, "but we don't have time to waste. We must depart immediately!"

"Yes," Nitesco said, his resolve returning to him. "Yes, you're right." He walked out of the room to grab his clothes and his weapons, and the rest of the commanders remained there in silence.

"Anyone have anything else to say?" Austin asked. Gwydion shook his head and gave a faint smile.

"If I die," he said, "tell the world my last words were something clever." His jest elicited an uneasy chuckle from Vulpix and Austin, but the room quickly fell silent again.

"Let's get to work," Strike said, and they finally dispersed.

As the rest went their separate ways, Strike hurried down the capitol hill and toward the docks to see what the damage was. To his surprise, the dock remained largely intact, and several platoons' worth of Arkosian soldiers were already there, setting up barricades. Strike took a reassured breath and observed his surroundings.

Each individual dock was large enough to dock a heavy rivership, but most were empty. In fact, all were empty, the few ships in port having been destroyed by cannon fire. The night fog was illuminated with every volley from the ships on the lake, lighting up the seaships bombarding the walls and the Ladybug riverships advancing under their fire. No doubt each one was armed with a full platoon of soldiers ready to disembark. Strike grumbled and observed the Arkosian's hastily constructed defenses.

The men had erected a few crude barricades on the main causeway. All of the city's docks led back to that single causeway, which led out of a gate in the city walls. If the gate was closed and the causeway barricaded, they could presumably hold the dock much longer than anticipated.

"Men!" he roared. A quick check of the path into the city told him no more reinforcements would be arriving. "Prepare the barricades! Close the gate! Fall in on the main causeway!"

The men did as they were told, a full battalion's worth of men standing tall and strong, staring out at the Confluence. The waves had begun to churn as a squall began settling in on the lake, and the waters erupted periodically from the cannons on the city walls. A few advancing ships were struck and began floundering in the water, but one ship dodged all the cannonballs and continued a steady course toward the docks.

"Stand hard, men!" Strike bellowed. The ship suddenly jerked to the side and drifted violently toward the dock. It struck the dock full on the side, dislodging a few of its cannons as it steadied itself. As soon as it leaned toward the now-splintered dock, men began swarming out from the innards of the ship and descending on the Arkosians.

Strike roared and resisted the urge to charge to the front. If he died and was unable to command, who would take his place? He directed a few men lagging at the back to go and fan out to the sides as more enemy riverships pulled up at the docks at the sides.

"To the flanks! The flanks, you greens!" He screamed at the men at the back and pointed at the left flank, which was suddenly a nest of Ladybug soldiers. Strike became so invested in diverting men there that he did not notice men creeping up on him from the right until he heard one scream behind him.

Strike whirled around and raked his sword across the man's jaw, sending a gruesome spray of blood and teeth in the air as his assailant collapsed backward. As the men from the right flank smashed into the causeway, Strike found himself surrounded. He kicked back a soldier and struck down another two, but more and more kept coming. Strike roared and charged into the throng, slashing the leg of a Ladybug soldier and descending into the fray.

The causeway was now swarming with men, and Strike could barely tell which men were his and which were trying to kill him. The Ladybug soldiers wore black uniforms with their red insect emblazoned over the heart, while the Arkosians wore their crimson uniforms. As both became drenched with blood, the colors of red and black blended together, and Strike felt himself stumbling through the chaos, swinging wildly at any sword that came within reach.

At last, Strike emerged on the other side, tacking a vulnerable soldier and jamming his sword through the man's throat. As he wrenched it out, he stumbled out onto the left docks. Another ship muscled in port, this one more richly colored and slightly larger than the rest. Instead of the common Ladybug infantry, Church soldiers, clad in white armor and crimson capes, emerged from the boat. At their head was a man dressed in gleaming silver armor, with engravings of thorny vines inlaid in his armor. He brandished a scimitar and stared directly at Strike before pointing at him and issuing an order to his men.

The Church knights ran at Strike, but as he prepared a defense, they ran past him and into the fray. Strike turned and cast a knowing glance at the armored man, who he could tell was smiling beneath that helmet of his.

"And who might you be?" Strike asked. The silver man stopped about ten feet away from Strike and gave a mocking bow.

"Draco," he said. "A soldier of the church. And you are Colonel Strike."

"My reputation precedes me," Strike replied.

"You should be a general," Draco stated. Strike was caught off-guard by this comment, but he kept his poise.

"I think I earned that promotion some time ago," Strike replied. "General Zealander disagrees."

"Oh no," Draco said, chuckling darkly. "I just wanted my first kill in battle to be a general."

"Oh," Strike said, disappointed. "Sorry to disappoint you."

"We'll see if you do," Draco said. And suddenly he charged.

"General Zealander?"

Vulpix ignored the voice. He was sitting in the castle's war room, poring over the plans of the city. Scouts wandered in and out of the room to give him succinct reports before disappearing, leading Vulpix to rapidly mark up the map. The walls still held strong in most areas, but a few reports of enemy soldiers in the city led him to believe that someone had breached the walls somewhere. That was his main concern now.

"General Zealander?" A voice asked again. He grumbled and turned to the scout, a young man, barely above enlistment age, with wispy stubble on the edges of his jaw. Vulpix pursed his lips.

"Is it a breach?" he asked.

"It will be if it's not dealt with," the boy replied. Vulpix sighed and grabbed his crutches. He limped outside as the boy led him to the precipice of capitol hill.

The scout pointed down at the docks as Vulpix hobbled over to him. The docks were a mess, and much sooner than expected or desired. The causeway swarmed with Ladybug and Arkos soldiers brutally slaughtering each other, so much so that the waters around the causeway were turning red with blood.

"The enemy has disembarked," the scout observed. "And more are coming. While the seaships bombard the walls, the riverships deposit the men on the dock. There are too many. Our men are doomed."

Vulpix did not need to be told; he could see it for himself. Soon, the entire Arkosian unit would be overrun and slaughtered, and then the gate would be forced open. He had to act.

The rain began descending. Vulpix could feel the cold drops on his skin and the chilly draft of the ever-strengthening wind. He clenched his fists.

"Tell the cannons to turn their fire onto the docks," he said. The scout looked at him in shock.

"Sir?" he asked. "Our men are down there! We can't just fire on them!"

"You said yourself that those men are doomed," Vulpix snapped. "There's no use in prolonging it. Give the order or I will find someone who will."

The boy looked down, unsure of whether to protest or to obey. He opted for the latter. "I will relay your order," he said softly. The boy gave a final, regretful look at Vulpix before starting down the hill toward the walls.

On the left side of the docks, Vulpix saw Strike locked in battle with a silver-armored warrior. He fought valiantly and with poise. But he fought in vain.

"Strike," Vulpix whispered. "Forgive me." He wiped the rain from his eyes and turned back toward the castle.

Draco was an opponent unlike any Strike had faced before. He was only two inches taller than him, three at the most, but he carried the leverage of a man at least two feet taller than Strike in his blows. Every clash of swords was a test of Strike's strength. Every parry was a test of Strike's blade. His defensive ability was being pushed to its limits.

It wasn't just Draco's strength, though. It was his attitude. Strike could feel it in every one of Draco's movements: not just the frenzy of battle, but a fierce, crackling hatred. Draco was filled with anger, but he was also filled with zeal and conviction, with a compulsion to exterminate everyone he deemed a heretic— a category Strike fell into.

"Die, heretic!" As the storm picked up around them, Draco made his point known with another crushing blow. Strike barely backpedaled in time to evade it. Draco spun around and delivered a few more savage strikes, all of which Strike parried, but not without great difficulty.

"Get back, you damned brute!" Strike cried, and he managed to push Draco back a pace. Draco laughed.

"You tire," he taunted. "I don't." He wound up for another attack. "You die!"

Strike charged him as he was winding up, thrusting his sword at Draco's stomach. Draco stumbled backward to evade it and lost his balance, tumbling back a few steps before falling on his back.

"Not today," Strike spat. Draco grunted and sat up, only for something up on the city wall to catch his attention.

"Aim at the docks!" Strike heard someone yell. Confused, he turned his attention to the city walls and saw, to his horror, that the cannons previously aimed at the seaships were now pointing down at him.

"Fire!" The artilleryman yelled. Strike managed to eke out a small shout of surprise as he saw the flash of the cannon fire. He turned to shield himself from the incoming projectile.

The cannonball hit the dock beneath him, erupting between Draco and himself. He felt himself lifted into the air by the explosion and, for a brief instant, saw Draco in the same position as himself.

Strike felt little in that brief instant. He expected to feel something overwhelming, some sort of anger, or sadness, or fear. Instead, he only felt an odd, disappointing sense of reality— I have been betrayed— as he floated through the air.

Then, he felt the water. Then, he felt nothing.

When she had first arrived in the main city, Austin had found Kazehh and Jelo already there, coordinating the defense with the ease and effectiveness, if not the tact, that she would expect from her own officers. They became her hands during the battle, guiding and scouting where she could not. A few hours ago, they estimated that the walls would hold until mid-morning. Then, until dawn. Then, when news of the breaches began spreading, long enough to evacuate this half of the city.

Austin stood in the main square of Guns N' Roses, relaying orders to her lieutenants, hoping that the walls would hold for another hour. The city guard guided civilians, shepherding as many as they could through the cramped streets. Children, adults, old men and women, it didn't matter. Austin could plainly see that they were all afraid.

Kazehh stumbled through the street toward her, his face alight with worry. Austin noticed him as she turned from a concerned civilian, who had lost his elderly mother in the panic, and saw Jelo walking up the street perpendicular to him. She beckoned for them to sit down on a bench to catch their breath.

"Report," she commanded. There was no time for courtesy. Jelo sharply inhaled and raised his hand.

"The docks are a mess," he said. "Ladybug riverships landed and deployed soldiers. An Arkosian garrison was there to slow them, and they closed the gates, but there was only so much they could do."

"What is being done?" Austin asked. She hadn't set nearly as many defenses around the road leading to the dock. If the enemy breached there, they would surely surround Austin and her men.

Jelo swallowed uncomfortably and leaned forward. "Last I heard… General Vulpix ordered the cannons to fire on the docks.

Austin was surprised. Such an extreme action did not befit Vulpix's temperament… but he must have realized the importance of keeping the enemy from the docks as well. "I heard Colonel Strike was at the docks," she said. "Any word on his fate?"

"If he was at the docks," Jelo said, "he is likely dead."

Austin sighed and placed her hands on her hips. Another good man lost to this pointless fight. She turned to Kazehh. There was no time to waste grieving right now.

"Kazehh," she said. "The situation at the gates. How is it?"

"They're breaking out the big guns," Kazehh said, and he sat down on a bench to catch his breath. "The gates will be down within the hour."

"That's not good," Jelo said.

"They've got a battering ram lined up at the south gate," Kazehh said. Austin's eyes widened. A battering ram? The gates would be down within ten minutes, then. They would have to shore up their defenses, and fast.

"Are you sure it's that close?" Austin asked. "If they've got a battering ram, we'll be up to our eyeballs in Church soldiers once the gate comes down."

Almost on cue, the three of them heard a loud cracking sound, like the snapping of a crisp branch or a bone, which was followed by a sound like a thousand panicked screams. It came from the direction of the south gate. The Church had arrived.

"Men!" Austin bellowed. The soldiers did not need to be told what to do; they all rushed to grab their weapons, knowing that the Church was at their doorstep. Austin turned to Kazehh and Jelo, noting the determination and the fear in their eyes. "It's time," she said, somber. Kazehh and Jelo nodded and grabbed their weapons, following her to the scene of the breach.

Already, it was a bloodbath. The square in front of the gateway, which had once been filled with merchants, singers, and peddlers was now filled with soldiers stabbing and swinging and dying. On one side, the soldiers of the League, wearing their wide array of colors, struggled against the tide of the Church. The Church knights, dressed in resplendent white armor and crimson cloaks, advanced relentlessly.

"Are you ready?" Austin asked Kazehh and Jelo. They both nodded.

"They'll sing songs about this day," Jelo said, a forced smile plastered to his face.

"If I die," Kazehh said, "tell them I said something clever before I did."

"Fine last words," Austin commented, a smile creeping onto her face. "Attack!"

They descended into the melee, and almost instantly, Jelo and Kazehh disappeared into the madness. Austin slashed and stabbed, swung and bit, parried and ducked, but the tide kept coming. An Enablerish spearman lunged at her. A sword through his bowels. A Church knight blocked her overhand with his shield. A foot on his throat. A Pollinational skirmisher tried to run. Another man's arrow in his back before he took his third step. Austin drowned in the frenzy of battle, in the cold rain and thunder that descended on them as they fought, and somehow came out on the other side.

Somehow, during the fight, they had all migrated back to the square, at the foot of the bronze statue of Team ANGQ. Austin leaned against the statue's base to catch her breath and observe the battle. Her defenses were holding as strong as they could, but they were being pushed back despite their best efforts. Then, she saw something moving in the melee. Something bright. Something red. Jannis emerged from the fray wearing a magnificent crimson set of armor with a white rose painted on his chest and his shield. Unlike the rest of the Church soldiers, his cape was white, and the rose on it was red instead.

"Champion Jannis," she said. He smiled and gave a bow.

"Commander Austin." He let his greatsword fall to his side. "What a coincidence, to see you here. Would you like another minute to catch your breath?"

"It was a mistake to let you live in Pollination," she spat. Jannis sighed.

"And yet you did nothing," he said, his disappointment audible. "That is this Subreddit's plague. You are all stagnant. Inactive. Unwilling to change. We will heal this place."

"You will destroy this place!" Austin was seized with a sudden fury, and she charged Jannis. He lifted his shield and blocked her attack, but did not try to strike back.

"What peace does not come without sacrifice?" he asked. "We extended an olive branch, and you knocked it from our hand. Now we must make peace instead of forge it." He swung at Austin a few times, broad, lazy strikes that she easily avoided.

"Peace?" She growled and attacked. Jannis deflected her attacks and thrusted back at her with surprising speed; the sparring gloves were off. "This war was your fault! How long have you prepared this? How long have you set this up? This is all because of you and your damned Church!" She attacked again, and Jannis willingly took the defensive, knocking aside her strikes with his shield and a good bit of difficulty.

"You were the ones who rose up, in Enabler," Jannis pointed out. "You, Nitesco, Coronam. You would seek to usurp what was rightfully ours."

"Lies!" Austin charged again. Jannis rolled backward and into a bench, and barely recovered in time to avoid Austin's followup. "All we wanted was—"

"Power!" Jannis finished. "Power was your only aim. Or at least, Nitesco's."

"Nitesco is a good man!" Austin roared. She deflected another hit from Jannis, only to receive a knock to the head from his shield, which she stumbled away from. Her nose was covered in blood, and possibly broken.

"Nitesco is just like the rest of them!" Jannis said. "What does he fight for? Peace? Yet here, he leads the entire Subreddit into war! Duty? His duty was to obey Inferno, and yet he revolted for his own ends! His people? And yet, here we stand in his people's blood, for he had brought the war to them! He is a liar, like the rest of them!"

"You're no better!" she screamed, and she slashed him across the face. The blow cut him across the lip and the right side of his nose, barely missing his eye. He stepped backward in surprise.

"I fight for my goddess," he said, suddenly cold. As she reared up to attack again, Jannis kicked her in the chest and to the ground. She felt an explosion of pain in her chest, certain that Jannis had broken a rib or two. He stood over her menacingly. "What do you fight for?"

Suddenly, there was someone behind him. Jannis caught a glimpse of them in the reflection of the bronze statue and, as an axe blade flew towards his head, he narrowly ducked out of the way. The swing took a lock of his hair, and he stumbled back. He heard another person behind him and stepped to the side as a morning star came down and nicked his shield.

Jelo brandished his morning star at Jannis, looking proud and determined in equal measure. Kazehh, however, looked hateful, and he stepped in between Jannis and a recovering Austin.

"Jannis," Kazehh sneered. "So that's your name."

"Step aside, grunt." Jannis's eyes darted between Jelo and Kazehh both, unsure of whether to attack or stay still. "I have a conversation to finish."

Jelo's hair was slick with rain and blood, matted flat against his head, but still he looked strong. "Don't make this hard on yourself," he said. "Run back to the Church."

"No," Jannis said. Suddenly, he swung at Jelo, who barely had time to step back. Kazehh was on top of him, swinging his axe in a wild blur. Jannis placed his shield up to block, but forgot about Jelo until he saw a morning star flying towards his face, and he knocked the weapon back with his own.

"Damned brutes," Jannis muttered. Kazehh and Jelo advanced, striking and slashing at Jannis, never giving him a second to breathe. Whenever Kazehh left himself open after a wide strike, Jelo was there to keep their opponent at bay, and vice versa. At last, Jannis somersaulted backwards and growled.

"Get out of my way," he threatened. Kazehh pointed his axe at him.

"No," he said.

Jannis roared and thrusted with his sword. The thrust flew through the space between Kazehh's brand-new axe head and the axe shaft with pinpoint accuracy. At once, Jannis swung upward, taking the axe head with it. Jelo finally reacted, trying to take him on with another swing of his morning star, but Jannis caught it with his shield. The impact was strong enough to embed the weapon in the shield's wood.

"I gave you a chance," Jannis said. Jelo, in lieu of a response, yanked the morning star back and with it, to Jannis's surprise, the shield as well. Kazehh took advantage of Jannis's shock to whack him in the face with the shaft of his weapon, knocking him in the groin and the knees as well. Jannis was about to swing back when Jelo struck him in the stomach. Despite Jannis's heavy armor, it was deep enough to draw blood, and he collapsed to his knees.

Austin had finally recovered from her blow and gotten her weapon. Jannis merely looked up at her with hate.

"You can kill me," he said, in a voice barely above a whisper. "But not the truth."

"You're a madman," she said. "You're a sick, deceitful, fanatic brute!"

"Maybe," Jannis said, and he spat out a glob of blood. "But I am not wrong." Before any of them could react, he turned to the men behind him and yelled. "Men! To me!" he cried, and a dozen Church knights turned to take them on.

Austin knew that a wounded commander and two sellswords could not hope to take on a dozen Church knights. There was only one option.

"Men!" she yelled. "Retreat! Fall back to capitol hill and regroup there!"

Her men were quick to oblige, eagerly turning tail and fleeing the scene. Even as Church knights began running at her, she remained still, staring at Jannis, who only stared back.

"Run," he growled in a pained voice. "Run back to Nitesco. Run back to him, so he can comfort you and fill your head with lies. Run back to him, and run from the truth!"

Austin wanted to retort, to yell back, to tell him he was wrong, but she could not find the words. So, she did as she was told, and she ran.

By the time she had returned to the castle, the soldiers there were preparing to leave. Gwydion, Vulpix, and Opifexa were nowhere to be found, and Nitesco was busy gathering the last of the citizens and soldiers he could before he retreated through the tunnel with the rest. As Austin limped into the throne room with her men, haggard and bloody, Nitesco stopped what he was doing and rushed to her side.

"Austin!" he cried. He sat her down on the steps to the throne and examined the damage. She pushed him away and tried to stand.

"It's fine," she said. She pointed out the doors, where the storm and the Church raged outside in equal measure. "Jannis is making his final charge up the hill. The defenses are regrouping. You don't have much time." She paused and looked around. "Where is everyone else?"

"I sent them through already," Nitesco said. "We've taken all the civilians we can. I waited here with some of my men for you. But we have to go, now!"

Austin gave him a weary smile and shook her head. "No. You have to go. Someone has to stay behind, to buy you time while you escape." She steadied herself on the throne and stood up. "I will stay with my men. You have to go."

"Austin," he stammered. "We've lost enough good men today. We lost Strike. We lost Coronam already. We can't lose you too." His words were full of sadness, but he knew she was right.

Kazehh walked up to them and placed a hand on Nitesco's shoulder. "You have to go, Nitesco," he said. "Who will lead them if you don't?"

"Your people need you more than I do," Austin said, and she put a hand on his shoulder. "Go."

Nitesco nodded reluctantly, then looked to Kazehh. "Kazehh," he said. "If you or any other man wish to come with me, now is your only chance."

"With all due respect, my place is here." Kazehh looked down at the ground. "The Church took my home, and I know Jelo will never leave Austin to… to die alone. I have to stay."

"Kazehh…" Austin began.

"No." Kazehh sighed. "The Church has taken everything. I'd like to give it some scars before I go." He looked to Nitesco. "Is there anything you would have me do before you leave?"

He looked down at the ground and nodded. "Yes. I need you to block off the tunnel after I'm through. I've already put some gunpowder in there. Just light it up and run back."

"Okay," Kazehh said. "That sounds simple enough. Show me where."

Nitesco nodded and turned to leave, but he stopped himself. He put a hand on Austin's shoulder.

"Come back to us," he said. Austin nodded, but she remained silent. The Church would not make her a liar. Then, Nitesco and Kazehh were gone, and she was left alone in the throne room with what was left of her men.

She walked over to the entrance and looked out the gates. The Church was inching its way up the road toward the castle. So many men were bleeding and dying, just to hold them off for a few extra minutes. Jelo appeared in the doorway and lurched inside.

"Jelo," she said, "there's still time to go, if you want." She already knew his answer.

Jelo, true to form, waved her off and laughed forlornly. "I'm battered and limping," he said, gesturing at his wounds. "How far do you think I could get?"

Austin did not bother arguing with him, but silently offered her a seat next to him on the steps up to the throne. He accepted and eased himself down next to her while they both watched the door.

"Hey," he said softly. "Where's Kazehh?"

"Helping Nitesco destroy the tunnel," she replied. "He'll be back once he's finished."

"Good," Jelo said, and he chuckled a bit. "I never knew him as a man to run off, even when it suited him."

Austin smiled. "I know. Do you remember when he got his crescent axe? The first one?"

Jelo laughed weakly and nodded. "Yeah. They were going to put me up on the chopping block for thievery. He broke in and figured that I couldn't be beheaded if they had no axe. So, he ran up to the stand and grabbed it. Just like that. In broad daylight."

Austin grinned. "And then they chased him, didn't they?"

"Nope. When the guards saw, they told him to put down the axe or die immediately. Did the fool run, like he should've? No. He stood his ground and cut me free so I could stand with him!"

"And how did you get out of that?"

"Well," he admitted. "We didn't. The mob rushed the stands. We got away in the confusion."

Austin laughed, a rich, full-bellied laugh she didn't know she had. "I'm glad I wasn't there."

"Oh, you missed it," Jelo said, a smile on his face. "It was a day to remember."

The sounds of fighting had gotten closer, and they could both see the heads of soldiers through the doorway. The men they had in the throne room, which equaled about two dozen men, readied their weapons. Austin and Jelo stood and did the same.

"A day to remember," Austin echoed. Finally, the first Church soldiers spewed forth. The throne room erupted in violence. As the pair prepared to dive into the melee once more, a warrior emerged from the brawl and faced them both. His armor was bright silver, stained with mud, lakewater, and blood, and it was decorated with engravings of thorny vines.

"You're shiny," Jelo observed. He readied his weapon.

"You seem important," Austin said. "What's your name?"

"I am Draco," Draco said, almost bored. "And I am tired of introducing myself."

"I can fix that!" Jelo shouted. Screaming, he charged Draco, who deflected his blow. Austin did the same, attacking Draco with abandon, but none of her blows got through.

They danced that way for a little bit, Jelo and Austin attacking, Draco parrying, until suddenly he took the offensive. Austin lunged at him, hoping to take his legs, but apparently Draco had the same idea. He hooked his leg behind her knee, pulling her forward, and clobbered her in the head with the pommel of his scimitar. She fell to the ground, head pounding.

As she struggled to sit up, she saw Draco continuing to battle Jelo. Jelo was not taking well to the one-on-one. He was lagging, she noticed, every parry coming a split second later and later, his footwork becoming sloppy. Finally, Draco wound up and delivered a savage strike to Jelo's weapon, which passed through the morning star's shaft, Jelo's left arm, and finally through Jelo's left eye. He shrieked and fell to the ground. He struggled to get back up, only for Draco to deliver another heavy blow to the side of his head, and he sank to his knees.

"Jelo!" she shouted. But her cry fell on deaf ears. As Jelo cradled his shattered arm, Draco pressed the point of his scimitar to Jelo's chin, drawing blood.

"You know," she heard Draco say. "From the second I saw you, I wanted to kill you. I don't know why. But the sight of you just filled me with… frustration. But I am not without pity." He let his sword fall to his side. "Recant, and I will show you mercy."

The way Jelo looked up at him, Austin knew his answer was already decided. She wanted to cry out to him, to tell him to accept it, to just give in so he didn't have to die. But she knew she was too late.

Jelo spat on the ground at Draco's feet and stared up at him with nothing but pure hatred in his eyes. "Go fuck yourself," he said.

Draco sighed and shoved his sword through Jelo's lung.

Draco turned away and let Jelo collapse on his side, coughing blood and seizing violently. Austin looked at him, and in his eyes, she saw him weighing the sport of killing her. He looked straight at her, his eyes filled with disappointment, and he turned back to the battle at hand.

Austin, still dazed, crawled over to where Jelo lay. He was bleeding profusely and coughing up far too much blood, but he was alive. She sat up against a pillar and held his head in her hands.

"Well, damn," he said. "I never expected my last words to be 'go fuck yourself'."

"They won't be," Austin said. "Not for a long time."

Jelo laughed, a gurgly laugh that spewed blood over his leather armor. "You always… you always were a terrible liar," he said. He took her hand. "Tell them, will you?"

"Tell them what?" she choked.

"Tell them… tell them that it took a hundred men to kill me," he rasped. Austin, despite herself, laughed a choking laugh.

"Okay," she said. "I'll tell them."

"And tell them… and tell them that I slew each and every one, and that I did not fear until I faced the Church's champion himself."

"Okay, Jelo," she said, and a sad smile appeared on her lips. "I'll tell them."

"And say that I fought him to a standstill while the castle burned around us," he said, and he laughed again. His blood was growing darker and darker, and his pulse growing ever softer. She held him tighter, as if that would save him. "And that as it collapsed on top of us, I slew him, and we died together."

"Of course," she said, and she sobbed. "Of course."

"Oh, don't cry," he said, and he wiped the tears from her face with a bloody glove. "Just think of the songs they'll sing of me. Of Jelo, the Awesome!" He began coughing again, and deep, red blood dribbled down his lips. He closed his eyes. "And I'll… be a hero."

"Oh, Jelo," she said as his breathing slowed. "You already were."

Austin sat that way, with his head in her lap, until the fighting finally stopped. When she looked up, it was Jannis who stood over her, bearing the cut she gave him like a badge of honor. She looked at him, not with hatred or sadness, but with disappointment.

"He didn't have to die," Austin said.

"No," Jannis said. "He didn't."

She didn't want to fight anymore. She was tired of the killing. She was tired of the bloodshed, and the death, and the pointless suffering. She wanted it to end.

"This is the cost of war," Jannis cooed. "Your war."

"Yes," Austin said. Jelo looked so restful. It shouldn't have been him.

Jannis did not deign to reply. Instead, he barked to his soldiers to bring in the captives. At once, several Church soldiers, their resplendent white armor stained with red, dragged in the soldiers they had managed to subdue. Some Arkosians, some Renorans, a few Villainians, but mostly Gunnians and Rosians. No more than two dozen men knelt before, with Church steel at their back.

In through a side door came Kazehh, wrangled by two Enablerish, fighting and thrashing and cursing. He saw Austin kneeling, and she could see a sudden burst of resolve in his eyes. Then, he looked down to see who rested in her lap. Kazehh went limp. He did not need the soldiers to tell him to kneel; he did it on his own.

"Look at them," Jannis said. His voice was cold and strong, but it was not harsh. Only disappointed. "Refugees and castaways. Products of this war. Nitesco fought for peace, for freedom, for prosperity. But he has denied all of these to his people." Jannis knelt next to her and sneered. "Does this fill you with righteousness? Does this make you want to kill me? Perhaps you may, but then you'd be a hypocrite."

"Spare them," Austin whispered.

"Excuse me?"

"Spare them," Austin said, louder. "Spare them, spare the city. Kill no citizens, rape no women, take no treasure. Leave them be and I…" She paused. Did she really want to do this?

There was no other way. "Spare them, and I will join you."

"No," Kazehh said, but his weak cry was silenced by a soldier standing next to him. Jannis squinted at her.

"Why?" he asked.

"What do I fight for?" she echoed. "You asked me that. What do I fight for? I fight to keep this—" She raised Jelo's body. "—from happening. I fight to end the fighting. I want brothers and sisters to stop cutting each other down. I want homes to stop burning. I want people to stop sacrificing their lives for—for nothing!" Austin found her resolve and looked up at Jannis. "If your Church can end this war, then I will help you. I don't want to fight anymore. I don't want to watch good people suffer. I just want… I just want peace. So I'll help you make peace. If you'll have me."

As Austin spoke, Jannis's expression went from disdain to pity to satisfaction. He stood up. "Then it seems I've taught you something," he said quietly. He turned to his men. "Do as she says. Spare your captives. Touch nothing and nobody in the city. If you do, I will kill you myself. I must speak to the Scion." With a final glance at Austin, he gestured to his men that they were dismissed.

Austin felt empty. How many men had died today? How many good people had lost their lives in this pointless fight? Too many. She stroked Jelo's hair. Too many.

As the storm outside finally began to dissipate, she curled up and cried.