Whoooo Stormblood!!! Y’know, once upon a time I thought I’d never make it here, even though I’ve had tons of notes for it for a long while. And I know, with it being the most political expansion, it’s a little more difficult than the others to get emotionally invested in – but I have some story threads that I think will be pretty interesting. And of course, this is a fanfic, I can skip the worst of the politics if I want! You’ve already all played the game anyway.
That being said, I personally found 4.0’s opening to be one of those spots that’s hard to get emotionally invested in. So we’ll be moving fast for a bit.
Thanks, Cider Spider, for forever implanting Lyse puns into my brain.
Also oops I spent the past three months in 1) year-end work crunch/recovery, 2) writing out Achiyo’s entire backstory (will post after I finish posting 4.0), and 3) playing Honkai Star Rail.
Chapter 48: The Battle in the Sky
Chapter 49: Into the Fringes
Rinala looked around at the Alliance camp within Castrum Oriens, the fortification on Baelsar’s Wall that was now the Alliance headquarters in Gyr Abania. It was already more arid on this side of the Wall than the Shroud, the trees thinner and less leafy, reminding her of the southern border of the Shroud where the forest met her own Thanalan. This part of the castrum was largely built of stone, with metal on top, which surprised her after seeing the grand metal intricacy of Baelsar’s Wall itself – were the Garleans taking advantage of older structures as the basis for their own fortifications?
The Alliance was settling in anyway, and it was rather amazing to see all the different uniforms all over; she hadn’t seen a united effort like this since they had all attacked the Praetorium. Raubahn was the one in charge of it all, by agreement with the other military leaders – Aymeric, Merlwyb, and Kan-E-Senna all still had countries to lead, and Raubahn knew Ala Mhigo best anyway. He was listening to reports at the moment, his scouts gathering information of the lands around. Rinala had heard that Shinryu’s huge wave had hurt and killed a lot of people. What had Ilberd been thinking, summoning something so horrible practically on top of his own people?
Alphinaud and Achiyo lead the Scion group to Raubahn to announce their presence. “General Raubahn!”
“Greetings, Scions,” he said, gruff as ever, but there was an energy about him that she hadn’t seen before. “On behalf of the Eorzean Alliance, I welcome you to Castrum Oriens.”
“Thank you, General,” Alphinaud said. “We were relieved to hear that your forces secured the Wall without incident. Have the Imperials made any attempt to retake the castrum since then?”
Raubahn shook his head. “None. Save for a few skirmishes between our scouts and their patrols, we’ve had barely any contact with them. But we all know it’s only a matter of time before things escalate. As if attacking Baelsar’s Wall weren’t enough, Ilberd summoned a primal right on their doorstep – and Garlemald is not like to let such shows of defiance go unanswered.”
“‘Twas a declaration of war, even if it was not Ilberd’s to make,” Alphinaud agreed. “And now we are bound by it, for weal or for woe. The Scions stand ready to serve, General. What would you ask of us?”
“As stated in my message, the Alliance will not proceed without the support and cooperation of the Ala Mhigan people,” Raubahn said. “We would have you serve as our emissaries and make contact with the Resistance.”
“Consider it done, General,” Lyse said. “We won’t let you down, I swear.”
“Then I’ll leave you to it,” Raubahn said. “Godsspeed!”
While the others wandered off to talk to Cid, who was around looking for where Omega might have ended up, Rinala should have gone with them. But she lingered in Raubahn’s vicinity. She admired him so much, but it had always been of him as a champion of Ul’dah. It was strange for her to remember that he really was from Ala Mhigo, and this was very personal to him.
He took notice of her. “Is all well, Rinala?”
“Um… yes.” She came a few steps closer. “If the people agree… can we really do this?” She didn’t know anything about strategy, and didn’t feel like listening to Alphinaud explain. She just wanted reassurance.
He looked down towards the gate, the eager anticipation on his face tempered with serious calculation. “You’re not asking me anything I haven’t asked myself a thousand times before, lass – even before this all… happened. I think we can. But more than that, we have to.”
“I think it was very rude of Ilberd to force us into it,” she said.
He chuckled, then grew serious. “‘Rude’ is one way to put it. In a way, I don’t blame him for his impatience, his anger. Knowing what little we know of the plight of common folk here in Ala Mhigo is enough to enrage anyone. Even seeing my people trapped in poverty in Ul’dah gave me great pain – that I had won all this power for myself, and yet I was still helpless to change their fate as a whole.”
“When Achiyo was fighting Ilberd, she said that you just walked the path in front of you,” Rinala said. “You’ve always been true to yourself.” She shuffled shyly. “And I appreciate that you’ve always helped the Sultana, that you helped Ul’dah and Thanalan to be better, even if they aren’t your homeland.”
“Thanks, lass,” he said fondly, and gently put a hand on her head. “I did strive to be true to myself, to be true to those around me, and now that path has led me here at last. Better late than never, eh?” A soldier called for his attention, and he immediately turned away to more important matters. Rinala snuck away sheepishly. She shouldn’t have been wasting his time.
The first task on their to-do list was to make contact with the Resistance, and so Lyse led the Warriors of Light, Alphinaud and Alisaie, Y’shtola, and Krile carefully through the hills to the north-east. Only Tam was missing, and everyone shrugged, because even if Tam had not been in Gyr Abania before, he had his own way of going about making contact with people. “In a fortnight he’ll have walked the streets of Ala Mhigo itself, just to prove he can,” R’nyath joked. “In a moon we’ll be able to ask him to introduce us to the viceroy.”
“Ugh, I hope so,” Vivienne said. “That man needs a swift stab in the face.”
“Tam or the viceroy?”
Vivienne didn’t answer.
The woods around Castrum Oriens were littered with broken Imperial machines; it seemed the Alliance had already had some encounters with Imperials since they had occupied the castrum. Coming out of the forest steeply downhill, the distance seemed lost in an endless sea of layered multicoloured stone, ancient hills and mountains weathering slowly to reveal their bones. Most of the group were stunned by the sight of a mountain to the north that had a massive, perfectly round tunnel blasted laterally through it; actually, hardly any mountain was left. Kekeniro and Y’shtola looked at it as they went along. “I think Omega caused that,” Kekeniro said.
“The damage is recent and aetherial in origin,” Y’shtola said.
“Hence why it has those perfectly round edges, instead of collapsing the entire mountain,” Kekeniro said.
“Well, it looks super neat,” R’nyath said. “I bet Cid can just follow that to find Omega. I wonder where Shinryu ended up, though?”
“It would be nice to not get ambushed by it,” Aentfryn said. “Or to know it is not out there Tempering a new group of worshippers since it has no living supplicants.”
“As I said before, it’s not your duty to solve all of the world’s problems,” Krile said. “Certainly not all at once!”
“Yeah, but I wanna fight the dragon,” Chuchupa muttered.
They crossed the Velodyna River, where Alisaie made fun of Alphinaud for the slightest hesitation in wading into the water, and came to a huge badlands of twisty canyons, slowly eroding from ancient cliffs. After some hours, Lyse found a watercourse and turned north; there was hardly a trail here, beside the water, and ahead the cliff came right down to the river’s edge, barring their way.
“Are we there yet?” Alisaie asked.
“We’re here,” Lyse said, pointing at the cliff. “On the other side of this pass is Rhalgr’s Reach.”
“So you say, but all I see are rocks,” Alphinaud said. “I presume there is some sort of trick to this?”
Y’shtola squinted at it for a minute. “…Indeed. A glamour.”
“Good eye, Y’shtola!” Lyse said.
“Y’shtola only has good eyes when aether’s involved,” R’nyath joked. “She can’t help it. I wonder how they do it?”
“The important thing is that it fools the Garleans,” Lyse said. “Oh, before we go in – I don’t know if Tataru told you, but my friend Naago, the messenger who came to the Rising Stones, is a member of this faction. So they’ll know us, and they shouldn’t attack us on sight. That said, they can be a bit jumpy, so let me lead the way, and, uh… don’t go reaching for your weapons or anything.”
Achiyo nodded. “I understand. Do we simply walk through the stones?”
“Close your eyes, and I’ll sprinkle some of this demasking dust on you,” Lyse said. “It’ll attune your eyes to this particular illusion, so it won’t appear for you, while it will remain for anyone else.”
When they opened their eyes, the landscape looked a little different. The path went on, a few yalms wide between the river and the cliff.
“That’s impressive!” Rinala said. “It’s such a big illusion!”
“Impressive or no, twenty years is a long time for even so complex a glamour to escape the Empire’s notice…” Y’shtola said.
“Well, we didn’t run afoul of even a single Imperial patrol!” Krile said. “What a pleasant surprise – in that there were no surprises!”
“That being said, let’s go!” Lyse said, beckoning them onwards. “We don’t want that to change.”
They walked forwards perhaps another half-malm, and the path suddenly opened out into a wide, circular, steep-sided valley. Everyone was instantly struck by the sight of the enormous statue of Rhalgr dominating the northern cliff face, with waterfalls cascading down on either side of him, collecting into a wide pool below and flowing out through the stream. Ancient pillars and doors and windows carved right into the rock of the cliff spoke to ancient religious grounds, but all about there were signs of newer habitation – brightly coloured tents, brightly coloured rugs, crates, chocobos, cannons, a few members of a beautiful, serpentine beast tribe none of the Scions had seen before, and plenty of armed men and women with griffon wing designs on their hoods and helms.
Y’shtola looked up, heedless of the fact that they were being surrounded by wary soldiers. “Fascinating… A massive, nigh-imperceptible glamour encompassing the entire valley… I see now how the settlement was able to escape the watchful eyes of Imperial airships.”
Krile was looking at the statue. “Ordinarily, I’d shudder at the thought of armed rebels trampling about in an ancient temple of immense historical importance – but Rhalgr is the breaker of worlds, so it seems rather appropriate, if anything.”
Three figures approached them – two Hyuran men and a Miqo’te woman, Lyse’s friend M’naago. M’naago waved at Lyse, who waved back. The man in the centre, older and more weathered than the other two, spoke. “You’ll forgive us our precautions, but we couldn’t be sure who had crossed the barrier. We see you now for who you are, though – the Scions of the Seventh Dawn.”
“I don’t suppose you remember me after all this time, eh?” the other man said to Achiyo. “Hard for me to believe that we’d meet again here, of all places…”
Achiyo thought very hard for a while. “Ah, I remember your face – if not your name. I apologise.”
“No, no, ’twas a lifetime ago,” the man said, waving off her words. “But know that down in Quarrymill, we didn’t forget about you – nor the lives you saved. I’m Meffrid, if that helps.”
“Oh! Quarrymill!” Rinala said. “With the… Hearers being unkind…” He was also wearing a lot more clothes than he had been back then.
“Ah well, what can you do?” Meffrid said. The soldiers around, seeing that at least two of their commanders knew the strangers, began to drift away. “I went to Little Ala Mhigo while Gallien was recovering. Gundobald was my former commander and an old friend, and I had a lot on my mind… But there’ll be time enough to swap stories later. For now, come up to our command post where we can speak properly.”
They followed him up the valley, to a nook where there was a war table set up beneath a large purple awning. The Ala Mhigans took a place on the far side of the table, and the Scions took the position of guests on the near side. “Allow me to welcome you once more to Rhalgr’s Reach, our humble headquarters,” said the older man. “My name is Conrad Kemp, and I have the dubious honour of overseeing operations here.”
“It is a pleasure to meet you, Master Kemp,” Alphinaud said, with a graceful smile. “I am Alphinaud Leveilleur, of the Scions of the Seventh Dawn, as are my comrades. Before I speak of our purpose here, pray allow me to thank you for sheltering Yda- forgive me, Lyse and Papalymo at great risk to yourselves.” He bowed, and the others nodded in agreement.
“Now, now, there’s no need for that,” Conrad said. “They risked their necks for us enough times. ‘Twas the least we could do.” R’nyath muttered something that might have had ‘Lyse‘ in it; Vivienne elbowed him.
Lyse didn’t seem to have heard him, luckily. “I-I wanted to… I mean, about the mask and…”
Conrad shook his head at her. “Ahhh, don’t fret over that. You’re not the first person to take up arms against the Empire under a false name. We’d do the same if we had any sense. …My condolences for your loss, child.”
“Papalymo laid down his life to save us – to give us a chance to make a better future for ourselves,” Lyse said quietly. “There will never be a better time to drive the Garleans from our lands. But we have to take the lead on this – we can’t leave it to fanatics like Ilberd.”
Conrad nodded sadly. “More than a few of our people were taken in by his promises. Followed him all the way to the Wall. Good men and women who never came back. When M’naago told us what had happened – how the bastard had made sacrifices of them for his twisted ritual – by Rhalgr, it filled me with an unholy fury… But what’s done is done. Best we can do now is see that it wasn’t all in vain.”
Alphinaud stepped smoothly back into the conversation. “That is why we are here today, sir – to see that some good comes of this tragedy. On behalf of the Eorzean Alliance, we do hereby extend a formal offer of military assistance to the Ala Mhigan Resistance.”
Conrad raised an eyebrow – whether it was at Alphinaud’s message, or Alphinaud’s age, it was impossible to say. “Do you, now? Well, go on then. I’m sure there’s more to it than that.”
Alphinaud needed no further invitation, and laid out all his logical plans and arguments with his usual earnest confidence. Conrad stroked his beard as he listened. “So that’s the way of it, eh? The Alliance, hoping to avoid a direct confrontation with the superior forces of the Empire, wishes to engage them by proxy with our vastly inferior ones? My comrades and I must confer on your proposal. A moment, if you please…”
Alphinaud bowed slightly. “Of course, Master Kemp. Take all the time you require.”
While the Resistance agreed to cooperate with the Alliance pretty quickly, actually getting anything planned seemed to take a while, and several of the Scions found themselves splitting up, called by other tasks. Rinala was one, her old teacher E-Sumi-Yan taking advantage of her presence in the region asking her to help him investigate an elemental disturbance in the East End. Sylphie showed up too, and begged and pleaded and twisted E-Sumi’s arm into letting her stay and help. E-Sumi was really only stern on the outside, so after a suitable amount of time, he relented.
Rinala was glad to see Sylphie again. She seemed to have grown up a lot over the past couple years. Well, maybe Rinala had too. But Sylphie was younger than her, so it was more obvious. They hadn’t been good friends at first – Sylphie hadn’t really liked anyone at first, but by the time Rinala graduated, they had been quite close. “It seems so long since you were studying at Stillglade Fane,” Sylphie said to her as they walked on their mission together, just like old times. E-Sumi-Yan was taking his own path, he didn’t need help. “And that was before you got famous and everything!”
“It’s so weird to think that people know me when I haven’t even met them,” Rinala said. “I’d much rather not be famous…”
“Hm, I suppose that’s true,” Sylphie said. “But your conjury is amazing now. You always made it look easy, and now it looks even easier.”
“Well, I normally get to heal Achiyo, and she takes care not to get hurt,” Rinala explained. “But when I have to heal Vivienne, if Aentfryn needs a hand, it can be really difficult! Her strategy isn’t “don’t get hurt”, it’s “I gain strength from my wounds so I want to get hit as hard as possible without dying”. It’s kind of crazy-” She broke off and peered through the sparse undergrowth, her ears pricking up. She’d seen something moving.
There was a light gasp, and then a frantic, feminine order, and Rinala’s quick eyes just barely caught sight of a child and a blonde woman with a hunting bow running away into the forest. They were already too far to follow.
“Who were they?” Sylphie said.
There was a rustle of dried grass behind them, and they turned to see E-Sumi-Yan hurrying towards them. “Rinala, Sylphie, what befalls!? I felt a surge of panic coming from this direction.”
“It wasn’t us,” Sylphie said. “I don’t think.” She was listening, to the forest and the elementals, using her developing skills as a Hearer.
“There was a little girl, and her mother, and she had a bow,” Rinala said. “I didn’t catch which way they ran off.”
“A child? Out here?” E-Sumi said, and bent his horned head, thinking. “By your description the mother may be a hunter, but I am curious as to her choice of hunting ground…”
“Could it be their fear which has the elementals so upset?” Sylphie asked. “In any case, it seem the answer to that has run off into the brush.”
E-Sumi-Yan had to return to Gridania to deal with Conjurer’s Guild business, but not before he formally charged Sylphie and Rinala with continuing to investigate the disturbances. They could both feel the unease floating around the forest to the south of Castrum Oriens, but for several days they could not find anything.
“‘Tis rather more shabby than what I’ve come to expect from the great works of Allag, but let’s not be discouraged,” Y’mhitra said, gently brushing her fingers over the ancient vellum pages in her hands. The Sons of Saint Coinach, in their archaeological explorations near the Crystal Tower, had found a tome related to summoning, so of course Eorzea’s pre-eminent students of the subject would be called in. “The content is what truly matters.”
The book twitched, jumped of its own accord from Y’mhitra’s hands, and bounced on the ground like an excited rabbit. “A fine observation!” chirped from its pages in a sweet, high-pitched little voice. Kekeniro and Lilidi both jumped back. Kekeniro had thrown his arms in the air in surprise, but Lilidi went for her sword, ready to defend him. But he didn’t sense danger…
The ambulatory tome made a strange wiggle, like it was somehow bowing. “Principia, at your service. I am a humble familiar, humbly familiar with the doctrine of summoning.”
Y’mhitra had also jumped back, tail fluffed, and drew her wand. “Have we awoken a sentient tome from some ancient library? We must keep it contained!”
“I don’t think it’s dangerous,” Kekeniro said.
“It has teeth,” Lilidi pointed out, and certainly she’d notice that, having hunted the wilds of Thanalan for so long.
“It’s not using them to attack us,” he said reasonably.
The book swivelled back and forth between them. “Have I somehow given offence? Strange, for I am not equipped with offensive capabilities. Imparting the art of summoning is my function, and instructional manual is my form.”
That made Y’mhitra’s wand waver. “…A manual, you say?” Both she and Kekeniro had perked up like pets offered treats.
“Correct,” said the tome. “When opened in the presence of summoners, I am bound to awaken and share with them the secrets of summoning. The young master there is in possession of an active soul crystal, yes?”
“Oh, yeah,” Kekeniro said, getting it out. He currently kept his in a pouch hanging around his neck like a necklace. “I use it so much, sometimes I forget it was made by Allagans like you were.”
“‘Twas the soul crystal that awoke you?” Y’mhitra asked, prompting for more answers.
“Correct,” said the tome again. “Only one who carries a soul crystal and has bathed in the aether of an eikon may wield the powers of a summoner. I sensed one worthy of instruction, and was thus compelled to introduce myself.”
“Oh, great!” Kekeniro said. “How do I get the instruction? Can I read you, or do you read yourself to me? If given the choice, I’d prefer to read myself, but if you find that doesn’t work with the, um, teeth…”
Between his and Y’mhitra’s questions, Principia – or Prin – elaborated on the purpose of her creation – that when summoners had conquered all the primals and then passed away, taking their knowledge with them, she could teach new summoners when people started making primals again. What a weird cycle his profession perpetuated.
Lilidi was watching the tome very carefully; he could tell she didn’t trust its words, even if it wasn’t dangerous itself. Even after he successfully passed the first trial, which was pretty easy, and Prin explained why she was a book and not a tomestone, Lilidi still didn’t trust her.
“What’s the matter?” he asked, in between scribbling notes in his grimoire at a café at the market in Revenant’s Toll. Y’mhitra was taking Prin back to Gridania, since that was where all her research materials were, and Kekeniro might be called back by the Scions at any time. Their discussion had given him ideas for making a new grimoire. Prin had mentioned that aetherochemical tools were not very good for passing on knowledge, since they had many points of failure compared to a book, but they had been very useful for creating weapons. He wasn’t yet at a point to be thinking about passing on his knowledge, and besides, Prin already existed. What he wanted was better tools to come closer to the abilities of the Allagans – within ethical reason, of course.
Lilidi crossed her arms. “You know what the Allagans were like. You trust her too much just because she won’t bite your head off.”
“She won’t bite anyone’s head off,” Kekeniro said cheerfully. “She’s too innocent.”
“I don’t trust her innocence,” Lilidi said, munching on a cookie thoughtfully. “What if she does some terrible act, possibly of betrayal, because she’s too innocent to know what ‘wrong’ is?”
“Then we’ll stop her, and explain what it is,” Kekeniro said.
“She probably can’t go against her spells, or her author, or whatever,” Lilidi said. “Anyway, I’ll follow your lead. If you need anything sliced up, book or monster, I’m right here.”
He leaned over and kissed her cheek. “Appreciate it.”
“Oi, lovebirds,” Chuchupa called from behind them. “Whatcha doin’?”
“Telling him he’s too naive,” Lilidi said.
“Developing new weapons of mass destruction,” Kekeniro said… mostly joking.
“Nice,” Chuchupa said. “Ye seen R’nyath around?”
“No, isn’t he still at Rhalgr’s Reach?” Kekeniro said.
“Dunno,” Chuchupa said, shrugging. “Why I’m askin’. Poor fool’s all in a blitherin’ tithy over his girl still, especially after seein’ her at the Wall. Was gonna take him drinkin’ again.” She sniffed. “Ye ever notice that the taller they are, the less they know what their feelin’s are?”
“Oh yes,” Kekeniro said. “We know exactly who and what we are and what we’re looking for in life. But they can’t help it. They’re too tall to be in touch with themselves.”
“Some of ’em touch ’emselves plenty,” Chuchupa muttered, and Kekeniro pretended he didn’t know what she was talking about because it was funnier to watch her wicked grin deflate under his innocent stare.
“They get so confused,” Lilidi said. “Thancred, for instance. Or poor Rinala. Or even what you’ve told me about Lady Achiyo.”
“That’s why he’s th’ tactician,” Chuchupa said, pointing at Kekeniro. “Grounded, he is. Me, I ain’t grounded, but I’m simple. Comes to th’ same thing in the end.”
“Well, I suppose it wouldn’t be polite to tell them what to do with their lives,” Lilidi said. “But it would be so much simpler if they were all Lalafells.”
The Lalafells all nodded emphatically to each other in agreement.
Rinala felt a little awkward chasing a little girl through the woods with Sylphie, but the little girl’s aura was flaring out of control – Sylphie said it was ‘blinding’, and she would know. If they couldn’t talk to her and calm her down, voidsent would surely appear and…
Too late, Rinala realized – the girl had tripped and fallen beneath a tree, and now little demonic shapes were closing on her. “Stay away from me!” bawled the girl, clutching her poofy hat to her head. “Mama! Where are you!?”
“Sylphie, I’ll get the voidsent!” Rinala exclaimed, brandishing her cane. “You watch for more!”
“Got it!” Sylphie said, her wand at the ready. Rinala took a deep breath and began casting Holy. That would get rid of the voidsent for sure.
The voidsent indeed melted away under the astral energy, and then there was just the girl. Sylphie hurried up to kneel beside her. “You poor thing, you must have been terrified! But don’t worry. We’ll get you back to your mother!”
The girl looked up, but she only looked marginally less scared, watching Sylphie with wide, teary eyes and a trembling lip. “I’m not supposed to talk to strangers… Mama says they’ll take me away and lock me in a cage.”
Sylphie blinked in surprise. “Is that what she says? Well, I’m Sylphie.”
“I’m Rinala!” Rinala sat down cross-legged beside Sylphie, trying to look as cute and friendly as possible, relaxing her long-furred tail to drape over her lap. “Now you know our names, why don’t you tell us yours?”
“Then we won’t be strangers anymore, right?” Sylphie said, and smiled brightly.
The girl sat up and wiped tears and dirt from her face. “…My name is Gatty. You don’t feel icky like the bad things…”
Sylphie chuckled. “Well, I hope that means we can be friends! Come on, Gatty, let’s go and find your mother.”
“Yeah, do you know the way home?” Rinala asked.
Gatty looked down at her hands on her knees. “I don’t have any friends… We live in the forest – just Mama and me.” There was a bloody scratch on her hand, like she’d tried to protect herself from the voidsent.
Rinala reached for her cane that she’d laid down beside her. “Were you hurt when those creatures attacked? Here, let me see… Ah, I’ll mend that in no time! Have you ever met a conjurer before?” Sure, she was a White Mage, and that was important, but conjurers were easier for smaller kids to understand.
Gatty gasped in terror and flinched back. “A conjurer!? No! Don’t touch me!”
“There’s that surge again!” Sylphie exclaimed, jumping up and looking around for possible answering voidsent. “And this time it’s far more powerful. Gatty, we have to leave!”
Rinala had also looked up. She looked back to Gatty, and she was gone like she’d never been there. “She’s gone!”
“What?” Sylphie looked too in disbelief. “But we barely took our eyes off of her! How did she manage to vanish so quickly? It’s like she’s a moogle!”
“Maybe she has an invisibility charm?” Rinala said. Sure, she knew how to blend in to her surroundings as a rogue, but this went beyond that. But surely moogles didn’t have a monopoly on being unseen! Also, why would she be afraid of conjurers?
“Hmmm.” Sylphie thought hard, looking around, listening to things Rinala couldn’t hear. “That surge of power I felt is gone as well. I don’t think it’s a coincidence that it faded as soon as Gatty left… Whenever she panics, I feel her aura just kind of expand – and I think the voidsent sense it too. And I’d wager three afternoons of listening to Hearer Nolanel’s lectures that the presence of those fiends is what’s upsetting the elementals.”
“Your senses are amazing,” Rinala said. She was very good at casting, of course, and she could sense wounds in the aether, but she couldn’t directly see it the way that Sylphie seemed to, nor hear the elementals so clearly.
Sylphie blushed a little. “Well… I’ve been working on it.”
“It’s really great!” Rinala said. “Let’s go tell E-Sumi-Yan what we found out. He can tell us what we should do next.”
R’nyath bounced into the Adders’ Nest ahead of Sanson and Jehantel. Sanson’s new unit sounded like fun, and he was happy to help out with teaching novice kits how to work together. As long as he didn’t have to make a full-time commitment, he’d already quit the God’s Quiver partly because he didn’t want to be full-time. “Hey, Commander Heuloix!”
“If it isn’t Master R’nyath,” Vorsaile Heuloix greeted him. “Good to see you, and especially assisting Captain Smyth again. Now then, allow me to brief you on the mission. Our order has received an anonymous letter, one that makes certain… claims. We would have your unit verify the truth of it.”
Sanson took the proffered letter and read it aloud. “‘There is a tome that holds a damning secret pertaining to the Autumn War. Should you desire it, send your most capable to Nine Ivies. I will be waiting.’ – And then there are specific directions.”
“…The war between Gridania and Ala Mhigo?” R’nyath asked. “But that was a hundred years ago.”
Sanson nodded, folding the letter and handing it back. “I labour to imagine what secret could exist that should be so damning even now. Might this not be an ill-conceived prank, Commander?”
Heuloix nodded. “Our leadership believes it likely, to be sure, but it is not a risk they are willing to take. Nay, not with the winds of public sentiment blowing as they are. You all know that our order is involved in the Alliance’s campaign to liberate Ala Mhigo. Well, there are those among the citizenry that disapprove, a small but determined faction that refuses to forget the wrongs of a century past. They still view Ala Mhigo as the enemy, and ardently oppose our reaching out a hand of succour. Naught potentially incendiary can be allowed to stoke the people’s discontent, and we must move quickly. Your mission is to make contact with the letter’s sender and ascertain the nature of the secret.”
“You call that a mission?” called a familiar drawl. “A bloody errand, more like. Couldn’t be arsed to handle it yourselves, so you foist it on the eager new unit.”
“Guydelot!” R’nyath cried, ears pricking up in excitement – and interest. “Hot damn, what is this outfit?” Guydelot had upgraded his old stylish gear with a new stylish longcoat in teal green, emphasizing his height and slenderness. He strode up, and the tails flared around his legs. He came to a stop with a hand on his hip, and R’nyath couldn’t tell if he was being sardonic or sexy. Both, probably.
“Thanks,” Guydelot said, grinning at his reaction. “Felt like a change. Good to see you too.” He turned back to Heuloix with a glare. “Anyway, if this secret proves inconvenient for Gridania, what then? Will you sweep it under the rug, along with all our hard work?”
“Guydelot, mind your tongue!” Sanson ordered. “You are addressing a superior officer!”
Heuloix raised a hand to calm Sanson. “So you are the famous Guydelot. Worry not, my friend. Whatever the secret turns out to be, I give you my personal assurance that you and yours will receive due credit for its discovery.”
Guydelot relaxed and smiled. “That’s good enough for me.” Heuloix was trustworthy, everybody knew that. The Elezen bard turned to the Miqo’te bard and clapped him on the shoulder. “It’s been forever since me and you last performed together, and I just want to enjoy the moment – no complicating factors, you know?”
Guydelot’s increased attractiveness was a complicating factor for R’nyath, but what the heck! This would be fun. He hardly heard Jehantel wishing them luck.
It seemed that Sanson’s “unit” consisted of himself, Guydelot, and temporarily R’nyath. It was a bit underwhelming for what R’nyath had been promised he’d be doing, since this was no different from when they had been adventuring together in Coerthas, but all the other prospective members were still in basic training or something. They travelled together to Nine Ivies, following the directions in the letter, until they came upon a young Elezen man with a lance. Quite a good-looking young man, with an unruly fringe of dark brown hair falling across his face. R’nyath sighed to himself. Was everyone going to appear unbearably gorgeous now that he was single again? Rebound season was torture.
He said his name was Nourval; he didn’t have the book, though. Apparently it was in Ala Mhigo, and of course no one from Gridania was going there while Baelsar’s Wall was under Imperial control. But now it wasn’t! But the lands beyond were still too dangerous for one man to go it alone looking for a book.
“…So if we wish to find the tome, we must agree to your company,” Sanson summed up. “Quite a demand to make of your nation.”
Guydelot chuckled. “Heh, you’ve got stones, that’s for sure. I like it!”
“Are you serious?” Sanson demanded. “A civilian is essentially holding us to ransom, and you praise him for his stones?”
“Look at it this way,” Guydelot said. “We didn’t know the tome existed, nor have we the faintest where to look for it. Better to have help than to fumble about blind, I reckon. Come on, R’nyath, back me up here.”
“Some folk like a man fumbling about blind,” R’nyath muttered to himself, and Guydelot grinned. “I mean… He sure has stones.” He shrugged sheepishly at Sanson’s glare, and Guydelot snickered. Nourval blushed a little.
Sanson sighed and bowed his head. “You, too, R’nyath? Are appearances truly that important to a bard? …Setting aside this talk of stones for a moment, I’ll not deny that we would struggle without Nourval’s knowledge. Very well, we agree to your terms. And here is ours: you must obey our orders at all times.”
Nourval smiled and made an incorrect but enthusiastic salute. “To the letter, sir! You shan’t regret bringing me on!”
R’nyath slid into the seat across from Guydelot at the Castrum Oriens mess, that had been adapted into a tavern. The Garleans might have no sense of architectural beauty, but they at least realized that they shouldn’t make their troops depressed during meals, and while the walls were stone, they were painted in light colours easy on the eye, and while the benches were metal, they were actually cushioned comfortably, and the food – based on what had been in the stores when they were captured – was pretty good quality. Well, they hadn’t conquered most of two continents with their magitek alone. “Guydelot! So where did you get that sexy outfit? How’ve you been?”
“Here and there,” Guydelot answered, leaning back in said sexy longcoat with his harp, with a wink and a smirk. Dang! The new coat looked so good on him R’nyath wanted to flirt on principle. “I ordered it from Fen-Yll, of course, where else? Sanson’s new unit is a pain in the arse – the things I put up with for him.”
“Yeah, how are things going with you two? How long have you been going out now?”
“I mean, I’d say as when we got back from our quest for the Ballad of Oblivion,” Guydelot said.
R’nyath leaned forward and whispered. “Does he know that?”
Guydelot looked away. “…No.” He cleared his throat. “He asked if I’d join him, and I said yes. …The fact he was talking about this unit thing is irrelevant.”
R’nyath snickered. “I hope I get to see him figure it out.” He raised his glass to Guydelot, who clinked it with his own, and they drank. “He’s annoyed with you right now, you know.”
Guydelot snorted. “He can be patient until I’ve a proper tale to tell. And how are things with you and your lass-?”
“She broke up with me,” R’nyath said, and slumped in his seat, ears sagging, putting his chin on the table. “Amicably, but still. My family suggested I chased her too hard when she wanted to do some of the chasing herself. I don’t know.”
“Sorry to hear that. But knowing you, you’re already looking for a new way to get entangled, aye?”
“Well, I can’t tell if it’s more or less painful that I’m constantly surrounded by extremely attractive people who are off-limits for one reason or another.” His ears perked up slightly, glancing at the man on the other side of the mess. “Say, so about Nourval…”
“No,” Guydelot said, shaking his head.
“But why?” R’nyath wailed. “He’s cute!”
Guydelot tweaked his ear. “Damn cat! Look past those pretty eyes, dammit! He’s a terrible rebound. He’s hiding something.”
R’nyath frowned. “It’s true he seems really focused on his goal, and not in getting to know us…”
“Exactly.” Guydelot strummed an arpeggio on his harp. “Perfect recipe for heartbreak, and there are enough sad songs in the world. Come now, you’re sexy as hells and you know it, so find someone who responds to that! They ain’t got to be your life partner, do they?”
“Eh, the older I get, the more interested I am in a life partner,” R’nyath said, leaning his head on his hand. “I remember our escapades we used to get up to, but y’know… I might not be interested in becoming nunh, but I still want stability.” He shot a look at Guydelot. “Anyway, you’re not allowed to talk about flings anymore.”
Guydelot couldn’t help smirking. “I ain’t said a word about flings. Though how can you be so sanguine when that dork don’t even know?”
“‘Cause I can see him from a different perspective than you do,” R’nyath said confidently. “He’s a dork, but he’s also really obvious. He might not know his own feelings yet, but they exist.”
Guydelot leaned forward, suddenly business. “R’nyath, over there – that’s the patrol I want you to track. Remember, watch out for masked bandits.”
“No problem,” R’nyath said, emptying his glass. “Have fun!”
Nourval was definitely feeding classified information to bandits attacking Alliance patrols through the Fringe, and R’nyath was aggravated. What a waste of a hot guy to inevitably get executed for treason once this all wrapped up. And he bet he had a really sexy evil smirk, too.
“We know little and less of Nourval’s plot, but it can only lead to ill,” Sanson said, as they were discussing what to do next. “We must needs bring it to light, and swiftly, before he can do any more harm. To that end, Guydelot and I have been keeping Nourval close, allowing him no chance to act. By now he will be positively itching to rendezvous with his accomplices. R’nyath, I’d like you to feed Nourval some false information – that I am in an Alliance meeting, and Guydelot… a drunken stupor. Our man will not pass up the chance to sneak out, and he is like to do so with greater haste than usual. This will afford us an opening to shadow him to his destination.”
Guydelot pouted at Sanson. “…Drunken stupor? Really?”
Sanson winced a little. “Not so flattering, I know, but you cannot deny that it’s believable.” As Guydelot folded his arms and pouted harder, Sanson turned to R’nyath. “Once you’ve told Nourval this misinformation, come and meet us outside the castrum.”
“You got it,” R’nyath said cheerfully, and went to hang out at the tavern to cover his tracks first.
Before long, Nourval came in, and R’nyath took his drink and sauntered up to him. “I guess you’re looking for Sanson and/or Guydelot? Unfortunately, they’re not free at the moment. Sanson’s in a meeting. And Guydelot…” He shrugged expressively and raised his glass. “Not feeling too good at the moment.”
Nourval’s face fell. “Both of them unavailable? And there I was ready to strike out on the trail of a promising lead!”
“I mean, I could go with you,” R’nyath offered, improvising, though he didn’t expect anything of it.
“Oh, you’re one of the Warriors of Light, I wouldn’t dream of putting you to such trouble without the others.” Nourval shrugged and sighed. “Well, disappointing though it is, the search will have to wait. Now, if you will excuse me, I have some business to attend to.” He about-faced and left the tavern without so much as a glance at the bartender. R’nyath chugged the rest of his beer hastily and snuck after him.
Sanson met him at the gate with eyes bright with anticipation. “It worked, my friend! Nourval rushed out of the castrum not a moment ago! He was headed east, towards a ruin called Gyr Kehim. Guydelot trails him even as we speak. Come, let us join the chase.”
The journey took hours, leading them out into the badlands to the east. Eventually, Sanson, who had been following Guydelot’s instructions through his linkpearl, slowed his stride, and he and R’nyath crept forward to where Guydelot’s teal-green coat was lurking behind a wall of weathered sandy stone.
“What is he up to?” Sanson whispered.
Guydelot grinned at him. “It’s a good old-fashioned tryst. Let’s have us a peek, shall we?”
There were two of those masked bandits at the entrance to an abandoned stone building, just handing something to Nourval. “We have it, my lord! Turned it up among his retainer’s possessions!”
They couldn’t see Nourval’s face from this distance with his back to them, but R’nyath, straining his ears, picked up a satisfied hum. “At long last, Gylbarde’s journal… and not a moment too soon. I’d just about outstayed my welcome at the garrison. When that adventurer caught us falling upon the patrol, I had feared that the game was up. But thankfully, the other two were blind fools. All this time watching me, and they didn’t see a thing. Hehehe…”
“We’ve only skimmed the contents, but it seems you were right,” said a bandit. “About what happened to Lord Vainchelon.”
There was the soft whisper of pages. “Was there ever any doubt? Once we return to Gridania and make this knowledge public, none shall harbour so much as a shred of sympathy for Ala Mhigo. That shall pave the way for us to propagate Lord Vainchelon’s will… and advance our agenda.”
“Phew,” R’nyath said. “He does like to monologue.” Nourval was still rambling, but he figured the important part was over.
“Commander Heuloix spoke of a faction that vehemently opposes our aiding Ala Mhigo,” Sanson said. “I daresay we have found them. But how did Nourval come to lead such a crew? Why did he request our aid when he had them? And what is this talk of Vainchelon?”
“Don’t know about the rest of you, but it seems to me our damning little secret pertains to Vainchelon,” Guydelot said sardonically.
“And Nourval seeks to use it to stoke the fires of anti-Ala Mhigan sentiment to some sinister end. This cannot be borne – we cannot let them have the journal! Are you with me?” As Guydelot and R’nyath gave him a firm nod, Sanson jumped out of cover and ran towards Nourval. “Nourval! We cannot allow you to have that tome!”
Nourval and his henchmen jumped in surprise, and maybe a little fear. “H-how did you-!? No matter! You’ll not stand in my way!” They drew their weapons; Sanson drew his spear, and took a stand in front of the two bards.
“So you want to do this the hard way, eh?” Guydelot said, and shot one bandit in the throat.
And though Nourval had an entire posse of followers lurking in the ruins, Guydelot and R’nyath put them down one by one. Really, after fighting Nidhogg’s Horde on the Steps of Faith, numbers couldn’t phase R’nyath anymore. Nourval would have to try harder than that.
Actually, he did try harder, trading taunts and earth-aether-laced blows with Sanson that sent the Serpent Captain reeling, at least until Guydelot put an indignant arrow in his shoulder and Nourval near dropped his lance.
Their enemy backed off, clutching his shoulder. “Hmph, perhaps you are not such blind fools after all. Very well, take your journal. Aye, take it! Read it! Know the vile crime the Ala Mhigans committed against Lord Vainchelon – against my own blood! And see the folly of aiding such honourless people!”
“What do you mean, your own blood?” R’nyath yelled after him, but Nourval had already ducked behind a piece of ruins, running for his life with his surviving followers. R’nyath bent and picked up the book, lying innocently in the middle of the battlefield.
Sanson turned to them, still panting, wiping the sweat from his brow with a confused frown. “Did I mishear? Did he just say that Vainchelon was his ancestor?”
“Aye, that’s what it sounded like,” Guydelot, and he moved as if to get out his harp… and then did not. “Vainchelon, the folk hero loved by all, celebrated in countless songs… and that pain in the rear’s his descendant.” He made a face. “Never would’ve guessed. Anyroad, we’ve got bigger concerns. Let’s see what this musty old tome’s hiding.”
R’nyath cracked open the book carefully; it was a hundred years old, wasn’t it? The book had recently been harshly opened to a particular section, and he let the pages spread there, hoping it was a clue. “Hmm… ‘To Vainchelon I extended an invitation to negotiate peace. The meeting must be in secret, I explained, for not all of my officers share my view. My opponent accepted and arrived at the appointed hour.'”
Guydelot wrinkled his nose. “Peace? Everybody knows there weren’t no peace on offer. The hells’ this about?”
“Wait, it continues,” R’nyath went on. “‘Without suspicion, he took his seat. And without suspicion, he drank the poisoned wine. The effect was swift and sure, and within moments the man lay dead at my feet.’ Hoo boy, I was not expecting that. …Neither was he, I guess.” That was the end of that day’s entry. Sanson, wide-eyed, held out his hand, and R’nyath passed him the journal so he could see for himself.
“Wait, Vainchelon was murdered? By poison!?” Guydelot exclaimed, craning his long neck to see over Sanson’s shoulder.
Sanson frowned, scanning the page with a finger. “To this day, Lord Vainchelon remains an object of worship among many Gridanians. Were they to learn of this, the present grumblings against Ala Mhigan liberation are liable to grow into large-scale protests.”
“There’s no denying that some Ala Mhigans did terrible things in the past, but what Nourval’s trying to do ain’t no better,” Guydelot said, glancing towards the ruins where Nourval had disappeared. “Might be as he’s after the truth, but nothing good’ll come of this, and certainly not any decent songs.”
“He knows the Empire won’t let us back down, right? And the Alliance, if Gridania pulls out, is gonna give us a hard time.” R’nyath shook his head. “If the truth comes out now, it’s more likely to lead to internal conflict in Gridania than anything else, I’d wager. That doesn’t help anyone.”
“The truth…” Sanson mused. “Tell me, you two. When we surrender this journal to our superiors, what do you think they would do with the knowledge?”
“The Seedseers aside, I reckon the brass hats at the Adders’ Nest would want to cover it up,” Guydelot said. “Bury it nice and deep and pretend it never existed.”
“Or they might use it to give them leverage against Ala Mhigo now, which would be vastly unfair given what they’re dealing with,” R’nyath said.
“Aye… You both have the right of it,” Sanson agreed. “But whatever they may do is none of our concern, is it? Duty compels us to hand the journal over to headquarters…”
Guydelot glowered at him. “You’re the leader of our merry band, Sanson, and duty compels me to obey your orders, shite though they often are. You decide whether we hand over the journal or not.”
Sanson still hesitated, journal in hand, looking at R’nyath. “What of you, R’nyath?”
“You’re the boss,” R’nyath said. “I’ll back you up either way.”
Sanson hesitated a second longer, then nodded reluctantly. “Yes, that would only be proper. As the leader, mine is the burden of decision.”
Guydelot was watching the silent ruin. “At any rate, this ain’t the place for moral dilemmas. Let’s get ourselves back to the castrum afore Nourval and his mates decide they want to have another go.”
Vivienne crouched next to Achiyo in the undergrowth by the road. Raubahn was across the path, along with Alisaie and Aentfryn. They were both surrounded by several units of Flames and Serpents. No one moved, though the heat of the day was penetrating even the shade of the trees about them. Vivienne felt sweat slowly trickling down her spine; her black armour was definitely not helping the heat.
A Garlean patrol was scheduled to pass along that road with prototype magitek weapons within the next half-bell. If they could destroy it, the Empire would have one less tool of fear to wield. As they waited, she was beginning to hear heavy mechanical footsteps in the distance, and then she heard a boisterous laugh coming from down the path, the confident voice of a man well pleased with himself.
“Things looked grim for us after Carteneau, didn’t they? Oh, how they doubted us… Yet here we are, right as rain, with fancy new toys to put through their paces… Bwahahahaha! It’s like all my namedays have come at once!”
Vivienne stiffened. “It’s that moron.”
“Who?” Achiyo whispered.
“A man who thinks his muscles make up for his lack of gumption.” She grinned at Achiyo. “Met him while I was babysitting Nero. I’ll be pleased to wipe the smirk off his face a second time.”
They glanced over at Raubahn, who nodded. The Alliance rose and ran from the undergrowth, their archers and mages attacking the Garleans from the cover of the trees.
“Hello again, coward!” Vivienne cried, pointing her sword at the Roegadyn who led the patrol. “Ready for another round?”
The Roegadyn grabbed his massive hammer, snickering. “Well, well, well! If it isn’t Garlond’s little troublemaker! Heheheh! I can’t wait to see the look on Zenos’s face when I bring him your head! That is, if my secret weapons here don’t grind it into mush! ATTAAACK!” The Imperial magitek stomped forward, and Vivienne and Achiyo flanked it, battering it with astral and umbral spells from either side before their swords struck its metal hide. Of course that Roegadyn wasn’t going to fight her himself if he could possibly help it.
Raubahn waved his sword in command before charging towards the Roegadyn. “Adders, Flames, deal with the escort! Leave the armour to the Warriors of Light!”
The Roegadyn met Raubahn’s charge eagerly. “Bugger me! Is that General Aldynn!? Bwahahaha! A chance to get my revenge on Vivienne, and test our new weapons, and kill an Alliance commander! Ohhh, it doesn’t get much better than this!”
“One would almost think he harboured a grudge against you, Vivienne. Whatever did you do to him?” Alisaie asked, her aetherial blade gleaming in the shade of the trees as she cast her own spells at the magitek machine.
“Only blew up three colossi under his command,” Vivienne said. Then added reluctantly: “With a little help from Nero.”
The battlefield was a mass of shouts, of exploding spells and magitek rounds. The Alliance was outnumbered, but with the Scions engaging the magitek weapon and keeping its guns away from their allies, they were not losing any ground. What the others did was not currently Vivienne’s problem – though she kept half an eye on the rest of the field, but her main focus was to batter down this machine with all her strength. They would have been better served by some of their heavy hitters in that respect, Kekeniro or Chuchupa, but she could keep its strikes away from the more vulnerable of the Alliance, and her blade was not exactly made of paper. It was very strong, its ranged weapons leaving small craters in the ground and scorch marks on the trees, and its physical blows would have put an oliphant out of any misery, but it was not quite fast enough to hit them.
Achiyo was flitting about lightly on the other side of the weapon, dodging punches from its cannon fists, tail floating behind her, her shorter stature making her harder to hit as she sought cracks in its armour, trying to prise it open to reveal its inner workings. Vivienne used the broad wall of Cronus to block a shell that it fired, staggering back several yalms from the force of the blast, then charged back to smack it with the edge; it shuddered from the blow. A Garlean spearman ran at her and she sidestepped and tripped him, sending him right into Alisaie’s rapier lunge. Eos fluttered by, making sure no one was more than scratched.
The tide was quickly turning in the Alliance’s favour; they were determined, disciplined, and led by Raubahn’s indomitable might. They were no longer outnumbered, and the enemy commander suddenly took in his increasingly precarious situation. “This can’t be happening! Not again!” He swung a great blow at Raubahn, forcing him back, and turned tail. “He who fight and runs- What the-? Who in the hells are you lot!?”
“For Ala Mhigo!” cried M’naago, Conrad Kemp beside her; the Resistance fighters had been held in reserve as reinforcements until this moment. “Let none escape!” Now the road back to the castellum was filled with Resistance, and the Roegadyn found his path blocked yet again, and with no subordinates still around him after having abandoned them all.
“We have them now!” Raubahn roared. “Forward! Forward!”
The Roegadyn swung his hammer in a circle about him; no one dared draw near. “You think you’ve won, eh? Heh heh heh… THEN WE GO TOGETHER!” He tapped something on his wrist.
The machine before Vivienne and Achiyo straightened up and locked in place. “Self-destruct sequence initiated… Sixty… Fifty-nine… Fifty-eight…”
“Seven hells!” cried Raubahn. “There’s no time to get to safety! We must disable it before it blows!”
“We must open it up,” Achiyo cried to Vivienne, and they began to coordinate their attacks on the machine’s front plate. Vivienne’s heavy darkness-laden blows finally cracked the armour, and Achiyo grabbed an edge and pulled with all her weight. Screws and bolts sprang free. Before them lay whirring gears, blinking lights and beeping sounds, and an increasing whine as of an overloaded engine. The machine was still counting down.
For a moment, Vivienne stood staring, wondering if stabbing aimlessly into the middle of that would just set off the threatened explosion early. But she wasn’t one to hesitate in battle, and she sent Cronus deep into the delicate circuitry.
The beeps and lights flickered and dimmed, and the thing sank to the ground. Vivienne gave it a few more stabs for good measure.
The Roegadyn screamed. “No… No, no, NO! My secret weapon!” He clapped his hands to his head in alarm. “Gaaah! Damn it all! Miracles of magitek design, my arse! I’ve passed harder stools than these piles of scrap! You’ll pay for this!” He pointed a trembling finger at Vivienne. “Mark my words, the next time we meet will be the last!” There was an opening in the fighters behind him, and he sprinted, knocking aside a Resistance fighter in his path and escaping back to Imperial territory.
“I hope so,” Vivienne muttered.
“Aye! Run and tell your viceroy!” Raubahn called after him, brandishing his blade. “The day belongs to Ala Mhigo!” The Alliance and the Resistance let out a cheer, thrusting their weapons into the air. “Well done, all of you. I’d call this operation a resounding success.”
Conrad walked up to him and smiled, offering his hand to shake. “Can’t say I’m surprised. The Bull of Ala Mhigo had an impressive military record before he went west, as I recall.”
Raubahn shook the hand heartily. “Credit where it’s due, Master Kemp: ’twas Marshal Tarupin who made this plan, and all of you, Resistance and Alliance alike, who carried it out to perfection.”
“Aye, that they did,” Conrad said, looking around at the happily chattering soldiers. “Not a single casualty, for which I’m grateful beyond words. I’ve no doubt our comrades back at the Reach will feel the same.”
“As will ours,” Raubahn said.
Conrad nodded. “It’s been a pleasure, General. Until the next battle. M’naago – I leave the Scions in your care.” He whistled, and the Resistance fighters formed up around him.
“We shall return to the castrum, then,” Raubahn said, and turned to the Scions. “Achiyo, Vivienne, Master Zwynswaensyn, Mistress Leveilleur – once more you have my thanks. As Master Kemp said, until the next battle.”
The General rounded up the Alliance troops and headed off. Alisaie was still looking east in the direction the Roegadyn had fled. “That brute of an Imperial officer was a force to be reckoned with, wasn’t he? A fool, mayhap, but he held his own against the Flame General…”
“I hope I actually get to fight him next time,” Vivienne said, hefting Cronus onto her back. “That’s twice now I’ve seen him and not actually touched him. He swings hard but he does not dare shed his blood; I don’t think he’s truly a match for Raubahn all things considered.”
M’naago was watching them with gleaming eyes and a bright smile. “I’d heard the stories, but to actually see you in action… I almost found myself pitying the Imperials. Seriously, though – it was inspirational.”
“Thank you,” Achiyo said graciously. “We fight harder beside our friends.”
Vivienne waved a dismissive hand. “Just wait until you see us all assembled.”
M’naago nodded with a grin. “Ah, you must be tired of hearing that, eh? I’ll keep it simple, then – thanks for the help out there!”