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A Fractured Song
Chapter 200

Chapter 200

Sara’s heart sank. Helias’s expression made her rise to her feet and pour a glass of wine. Pressing it into her husband’s hand, she hissed, “Drink up.”

“I don’t—” The tauroll shook his head and took a deep drink. “Okay, that does make me feel better.”

“Privacy spell?” Sara asked.

With trembling fingers, Helias pulled his wand from his mud-caked holster and whispered the spell. Allowing himself to be guided by his wife, he sat down on the chair in their tent.

“So, the bad news, we lost a lot of soldiers. Of the first division, about half are casualties now.”

Sara swallowed. “That’s five thousand soldiers out of the ten thousand we sent in?”

“Yes and Caldra’s dead. Dead dead. At least we are now certain that dragons aren’t cannon proof,” Helias held out his glass, which Sara refilled. “We’re still recovering as many soldiers as we can, but we’ll lose more as the hours go by. That and our intelligence suggests that Erlenbergian troops have arrived to shore up their defences.”

“This is bad.”

Helias swirled his drink in his cup, and took another sip. Studying the tauroll’s frown and the quirk to his lips, Sara frowned. “Helias…what are you thinking?”

“Thorgoth looked a little disappointed, but he wasn’t angry.”

Sara blinked. “But he just lost a seventh of his army. How many did the enemy lose?”

“Barely anything. A few hundred perhaps in the retreat? I think Dwynalina the Violet Queen was wounded, and the Firehand and Stormcaller had to head Thorgoth off, but their losses were light.”

“Then why would he be just a little disappointed?” Sara asked.

“I think it’s because we could have lost more.” Helias turned to Sara, his voice rising in pitch and speed. “Think about it Sara. We took the first terrace. It’s an utter ruin, but we actually took out a third of their defenses in exchange for a fifth of our army and just one dragon. Our army made out of a significant group of recently enlisted and conscripted personnel actually gained ground. We even exhausted one of their major traps.”

“They could have more, but given the scale, probably not to that extent,” said Sara. Resting her elbows on the table, she absent-mindedly stroked her hair with both hands. “But we aren’t getting any reinforcements.”

“Not quite. Thorgoth’s rearranging his forces. It’ll open us up to raids by Titania, but that way he can send Minairen’s garrison to this battle. It’ll just take time and we won’t be able to match their incoming reinforcements. So it’s not all bad news.:

“So…why do you look so worried?” Frances asked.

Helias winced. “I pissed Queen Berengaria off when I ordered our cavalry in to begin recovery operations before she finished negotiating with Edana. At least we have a ceasefire now to recover the wounded.”

“You—Ugh. Was Thorgoth angry?”

“No actually, but still…not good?”

“Definitely not good. You don’t embarrass Queen Berengaria.”

“I know that, but I was trying to save as many Alavari as I could.”

“And I know that, but now that you’ve annoyed her, you’re probably going to have to trot me out.”

“What?”

“Give her an opportunity to humiliate me. That way—”

“No! She nearly choked you to death last time.”

“She wasn’t really going to—”

“I healed your neck. I know how bad it could have been. I’m not sure how you stopped yourself from struggling.” Helias looked up at Sara, and his scowl vanished. His wife’s gaze was averted and she now held her hair in a vice-like grip. “Sara, you didn’t.”

The harpy-ogre forced her gaze to meet Helias’s. “Did what?” she asked, as airily as she could.

Helias pushed his cup aside. “You gave up didn’t you?”

Sara scowled at her husband but she couldn’t hold it against his stare. There was no teeth-gritted anger or glower, just a wide-eyed fear that belied the dirty armor he still wore. “I…yeah. I did.”

“Oh Sara,” Helias reached out, only for Sara to lightly smack his gauntleted hand away. There was no real force in the blow, but the general froze.

“I don’t need your pity, Helias.” The harpy-ogre took a deep breath and closed her eyes. Very slowly, she reached out to squeeze his fingers. “Thank you for caring. I…it was just a momentary weakness. I know Gwendilia needs us.”

Helias nodded. “I’m glad you know that, but do you want to live?”

“That’s not relevant, Helias. I have too many responsibilities to just give up and die,” said Sara in an arch tone.

Helias gently pulled off his gauntlets so he can hold his wife’s hand. “Sara, the reason the Stormcaller, the Firehand, and all those soldiers we are facing are still standing and fighting us is because they want themselves and their loved ones to live. Not simply because they have responsibilities.”

“You don’t have the right to dictate what I should feel, Helias. Besides, how do you know what the enemy is feeling?” Sara growled.

The tauroll winced. “Well, I have fought them many times so I’d like to think I have a good idea as to their motivations. I’m also not trying to dictate what you should feel, Sara. I’m trying to…just give you more reasons to live. I can see how hard this is on you.”

“I know. I do appreciate that you try to support me,” said Sara. She managed a small smile, which Helias returned.

“It’s the least I can do.”

Getting to her feet, Sara went to her husband’s side and started unbuckling his armour. “Helias…if you don’t mind, you seem to see the value in living.”

“You have a question about my past,” said the tauroll, raising his arms so the harorc could get better access.

“If you don’t mind. Yes,” said Sara.

Helias pursed his lips. “What’s the question?”

As the general studied his lady’s features, he noticed her hold her wings more tightly to herself.

“Why did you commit the Erlenberg Massacre?”

Helias blinked and a moment later, he nodded. “Ah, you ask because you wonder that if I value life, why did I order the deaths of children?”

Nodding, Sara watched Helias take off the padded jacket underneath his armour and rest his elbows on the table. He didn’t face her, but instead poured himself another glass.

“Last glass of wine. I think I’ll stick to water after this.”

“Do you want to wash?” Sara asked.

“Yes, before we go to bed.”

Sara nodded before walking to take the pitcher of water. “Are you going to answer my question?”

The general grimaced. “It’s not that I don’t want to, or that it’s difficult, but even if I explain it, I’m pretty sure you won’t get why.”

The harpy-ogre arched an eyebrow at Helias. “You’re belittling my intelligence now of all times?”

The tauroll mirrored her look, and tilted his head forward to emphasize the point. “It’s because you’re intelligent that you may not get why I did it. I ordered those deaths for a few reasons. One, I thought there was a reasonable chance I could break Erlenberg’s will with that act. If folk are afraid and terrified for what may happen to them, they’ll not want to resist.”

“But didn’t it just strengthen the resolve of those besieged?” Sara asked.

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“Yes, but in many cases that the kingdom has committed some act, or some other force has used a terror tactic, it’s worked,” Helias said, waving his hand. “Our raids on the Kingdom of Roranoak is why they gave up and are too afraid to bother us.”

Sara grimaced as if she’d bitten into something foul. “You’re not wrong, but killing them set Erlenberg against you, especially when you had children killed.”

“And there’s that by the way.” Helias crossed his arms. “The children killing. I don’t get the difference between killing an adult and a child and why everybody overreacted.”

The harorc’s jaw dropped open. “Huh? But children…they’re precious.”

“Life is precious and valuable to all folk. The humans and their supporters are horrible, but who cares if they’re an adult or a child?”

“Our child—”

“—is precious beyond all measure because of who she is, not how old she is. Would her worth go away if she was an adult?” Helias asked.

Sara gritted her teeth. Her wings shuffled as if she wanted to fly away, but her claws remained rooted to the ground. “Well no but don’t you think children—the young, should be protected? Given a chance to reach their potential?”

The general’s lips made a thin line and for a moment, he stared at the tent wall. “Regardless of whether they should or should not have been protected, I was never given that chance and many others in Alavaria weren’t given that chance in the Strife. It’s the same with our opponents. The Stormcaller was an abused child who grew up far too quickly. She fought Alavari at fourteen. The Firehand at fifteen. I heard Blackgale lost and avenged her parents at thirteen. Why should anybody else be judged by years they’ve lived?”

“Just because it happened to you and to them, doesn’t mean childhood shouldn’t have been protected. That…” Sara’s hands balled into fists. “You’re right, I don’t understand why you did it. I can’t.”

His shoulders sinking a little, Helias sighed. “I figured. I hope that does answer your question.”

“It does. Thank you,” said Sara. Her tone prim and proper, the wife of the general continued to help her husband disrobe himself. The general obeyed her requests for cooperation without question.

***

Stretching her arm over her shoulder, Morgan blinked, trying to get at a spot between her wings. The bedroll she was in was soft, but a little bit scratchy.

Bedroll? Morgan opened her eyes. She was back in the house she shared with Hattie and in her bedroll. The tent cloth spread over the roof of the ruined house let in a little bit of the dim light that bathed Kairon Aoun. Stretching out, she found herself touching someone’s leg and when she managed to scramble upright, she found a yawning Frances.

“Mom?” she croaked. In an instant, slender arms wrapped around her and pulled her against a warm shoulder. “I’m sorry—”

“I know. I heard from Hattie what happened.” Frances sighed, gently stroking Morgan’s wings with one hand. “I love you so much, but how do you keep finding so much trouble for yourself?”

The harpy-troll princess snorted. “You mean the same as you?”

Slowly letting go of Morgan, but still holding onto her shoulders, Frances arched an eyebrow. “I do get into trouble often, but I wouldn’t say I look for it.”

Morgan giggled and squeezed her mother’s arms. “But you can’t help saving people, can you?”

Nodding, Frances grinned. Together, the pair leaned forward, touching their foreheads to one another. Their shared warmth reassuring each other of their presence, their slow breaths matching one another, helping to calm their beating hearts.

“Renia wants to see you as well. She’s busy helping some people, but I’ll call her over whenever you’re ready,” said Frances.

Morgan took a breath. “Alright, but mom, today…I used the mana stones in my body.”

Her eyes widening a little, Frances found herself smiling as she put the pieces together. “Oh…but you were in control.”

“Kind of. More than before. But less than I wanted. Is there a way to improve my control over the stones?” Morgan asked, one hand scratching at her diaphragm, where she was pretty sure was one of the stones locations.

“There is. I’m not sure how wise it is to experiment with things in the middle of a siege.” Frances bit her lip like she was catching herself from saying something. “But then again, you might need it so…I agree, let’s see if we can connect with the stones again once you’re rested.”

Letting out a sigh, Morgan beamed. “Thanks mom. Um, did we…did we lose anybody?”

Frances’s expression darkened, her arms slowly crossing over one another. “We saved most of our troops but some were caught up in the rout. Others were buried in the slip when they couldn’t get away. All in all, I think we lost about two hundred soldiers in the attack and Dwynalina got hurt fighting Thorgoth.”

“Is she going to make it?” Morgan asked, her eyes watching as her mother’s grip on her own arms tightened. Somehow, Frances was holding onto a smile, but there was something quite stiff to her nod.

“Yes, but she’s out for the moment.”

Feeling the temptation to scowl, the princess shook her head. With a ruffle of her wings, she scooted closer to Frances, bumping her knees into her mother’s.

“Mom? Are you alright?”

“I’m alright—” Frances closed her eyes and winced. “Kind of. I wish I could have held Thorgoth off, but that was wishful thinking.”

Morgan frowned. “That’s not your fault.”

“I know. I’m just being hard on myself again. I…I think I’m always going to be quite hard on myself and that’s fine.” Fingers drumming on her crossed arm, Frances nodded to herself. “I suppose all this time, I’ve been learning to just live with it and I guess I’ll just have to continue to do so.”

Morgan blinked, narrowing her eyes at her teacher and mother. She’d been so open, so friendly at first and now had pulled back, almost as if she was balling up. All because of her stupid birth parents.

It was enough to make the scowl Morgan was trying to bite down burst across her face and into her tone, “Don’t you wish you could just forget that it happened, though and make things better?”

The princess turned her head, lips now pressed together, but it’d been far too late to stop her outburst. Yet, Frances only blinked. Slowly letting go of her arms, the human mage reached out to gently brush back a lock of her daughter’s hair.

“What do you mean by that, Morgan?” Frances asked.

The harpy-troll twisted her fingers together. Her wings alternated between stretching out a little, or pulling back. “Don’t you wish you could just, I don’t know, blast your parents. Make them pay? And take your revenge? Or like, just forget that they ever hurt you? Magic’s powerful, maybe there’s a spell for that.”

Frances’s lips parted, about to dismiss her daughter’s suggestion, but she stopped.

There, right there, was that odd feeling again in her chest.

She took a breath, really thinking about Morgan’s words. “It’s an interesting suggestion. I’ve never thought about it because I don’t think there is a spell that could let me take revenge on my parents, or one that would safely get rid of those memories—”

“But what if there was?”

Her daughter’s black, eagle-shaped eyes boring into her, Frances froze. Suddenly, she knew the answer. It was crystal clear, and she knew how to give it a voice.

It was that the answer itself shook her to her core.

“No. I wouldn’t want to get rid of those memories,” said Frances.

Morgan stared at her mother, a poleaxed expression widening her eyes. “Wait, what? But they…those memories still hurt you.”

“If I hadn’t gone through that and remembered being hurt, I wouldn’t have been able to help you, Morgan—”

“Helping me?” Morgan seized her brown locks and almost tore them off with how quickly she ran her fingers through them. “Mom, stop caring about others for one moment! This is you we’re talking about! If those memories are hurting you why wouldn’t you want them gone?”

Frances took a breath. “Because they’re a part of me, Morgan. I may not like that.” A small smile made its way across her face. “However, I think that I’ve… accepted that I’ll carry these memories. For better or for worse, what happened to me has shaped who I am. I don’t think I would discard these memories even if I could.”

Morgan’s ears were standing straight up, her wings held completely stiff.

“That’s… that’s kinda crazy mom. In a good way. Like…crazy brave.”

A tired chuckle escaped Frances’s lips. Shaking her head, she gently squeezed Morgan’s hand. “That’s probably why it took so long for me to accept what happened to me, dear.” Taking a breath, she nodded. “Get some rest, dear. We’ll get training when you are ready.”

Squeezing back with her own hand, Morgan nodded. “Alright mom.”

***

Alex, Ayax’s adoptive father, took a moment to tap the scroll he was holding before he handed it to King Jerome. Brushing back his still dust-streaked hair, the troll grimaced. “A letter, from the city council. My Erlenberg division is going to need a bit of time to rest up, but we are ready to join the fight.”

“We’re glad you are here, Alex,” said Forowena, smiling. She took a breath. “Thankfully, while things have not gone perfectly, they are proceeding to our favour. Reports are coming in. We have done some significant damage to Thorgoth’s army because they are pulling in reinforcements from all over Alavaria. It’ll take days for them to arrive, but it’ll give Titania more time to regroup.”

Sitting between Timur and her Otherworlder colleague Jim, who’d helped design the first terrace trap, Frances kept quiet as the main commanders of the defense continued their meeting.

“That’s good, though not great. We had to exhaust the first terrace’s trap. We can’t do that again and they probably won’t fall for it,” said Eloise.

King Jerome sighed. “Well, we did put that trap in in case we lost the First Terrace. Given their casualties, they probably won’t attack for a few days. They need to regroup and plan their attack.”

Queen Forowena grimaced. “Maybe, though, we should be on our guard. They might just use other divisions in their army.” The woman turned to Frances. “How did you manage to take down the dragon by the way? I thought killing Telkandra was far harder.”

Frances nodded. “It was. I think these dragons are younger, not as strong as their mother. Even then I don’t think the lightning strike me and my students killed that dragon. The cannons did.”

Pinching the bridge of her nose, Edana spoke up. “We also have nobody who can fight King Thorgoth. Frances and I fought him together and we couldn’t push him back. We can hold him for a long time, but I don’t think we can kill him.”

“And we can’t risk throwing all of our mages at him or we would have none to fight against the dragons,” said Kellyanne.

“Nicole, how many Otherworlders have we gathered?” Forowena asked.

“Jessica and two of our melee specialists went with Martin and Ginger’s force, which is being joined with the ten Otherworlders with Janize’s former forces. Ten more are in Lapanteria. Including myself, Frances and Jim, we have sixteen Otherworlders here, with five of us being mages.” The woman coughed into her fist, hard eyes meeting the queen’s. “With all due respect Your Majesty, this isn’t a fight for melee specialists and frankly I think if we’re to fight Thorgoth, it should be carried out by Edana, Frances, and any other master mages we got left.”

“How come? You’re both capable mages,” said Jerome, giving voice to Frances’s own question.

“I know my limits. I’m ready to lend support and cover our allies backs when I can but I’m more likely to get myself killed if I get directly involved in such a battle,” said Nicole, glancing at Frances meaningfully.

Anriel crossed her arms and rested a boot on her knee. “So I suppose we are concluding that to make sure we have our best mages available to face that bastard Thorgoth, we need to try to deal with the dragons with non-magic or secondary mage forces.”

“An apt summation,” said Igraine, smirking at her fellow ranger.

“Igraine, can you organise your rangers and with Anriel’s guidance, try to raid or at least disrupt Thorgoth’s supplies? She can show you the back tunnels,” said Timur.

“It would be my pleasure,” said Igraine.

Anriel chuckled. “Try to keep up.

“All in all, good work everybody. We’ll just have to hold our ground and react to whatever they bring next. Detailed instructions to come,” said King Jerome. He rose to his feet. “Dismissed.”