“I’ve never liked war. The lives it takes, and the pain it inflicts, leaves only an everlasting scar amongst the hearts of the people. Of me. No matter how much I plan, how much I sacrifice, how much I weep, the war continues on consuming everything I love. That’s why you must survive, Lorelai. As long as you’re with me, I can find the strength to bear this burden called kingship. So please, promise me that you’ll come back safely.”

King Ascalon, Ruler of Polus

———

Lorelai

Lorelai struggles to stand back up, her energy drained from shielding the now-ruined fortress. A large cloud of dust covers her surroundings as the sounds of heavy machinery travel through the wind.

“Ugh… damnit.” Lorelai coughs, her mind and body still disoriented from the fall. “I-I need to check on everyone else. I have to-”

But the words elude her as she tumbles back onto the ground, her legs refusing to comply with her will. She attempts to crawl towards the lower deck entrance, her fingers scraping against the steel floor beneath her, when a loud yell suddenly pierces through the air. Something is approaching her from the dust.

“Shit, Lorelai, I told you to stay below the damned deck!” her aide frantically berates. “Hey I need a couple of healers over here, and quick!”

“Haha, sorry Celia, but we’re alive aren’t we?” Lorelai mutters as a group of magi rush to her aid. “Forget about me, what about the rest of the crew? Is The Comet ok?”

“Oh, just stop talking already and conserve your energy. Everyone’s fine. Just some scrapes and bruises from the fall, but nothing a bit of sorcery can’t heal.”

“I-I’m glad.”

“You should take care of yourself before you worry about the others.”

“You know I can’t do that Celia.”

“Damn right I know, but that won’t stop me from nagging you.”

The magi finish with Lorelai’s treatment and fall down upon the floor in exhaustion. It takes a whole squadron of them just to refill her aura and revitalize her body.

“Thank you everyone,” Lorelai says humbly, regaining her composure. “I’m sorry about the trouble.”

“Think nothing of it commander,” the leader of the magi squadron salutes. “It is an honor to be of service.”

The sounds of the encroaching legion echo amidst the morning’s glow. Their footsteps become louder, and soon they will advance upon the fortress.

“No time to waste.” Lorelai stands back up and an air of authority envelops her voice. “Celia, it’s time for battle. Gather everyone outside and have them prepare to leave The Alexandria.”

“We’re abandoning the fortress!?”

“It is of no use to us now. We must meet them out on the open field, or else we’ll all be crammed within the collapsed walls.”

“Understood. I’ll gather the others and come back to your side once everyone’s accounted for.”

“No Celia, you must stay behind with The Comet. Bring a couple of other senior officers with you to protect the nursery. If they get a hold of him, then all of our efforts will be for naught.”

“What? Lorelai, you can’t be serious!” her aid desperately cries out. “You-you can’t leave me out of this! Damn you, I know you’re doing this to protect me! I’m not leaving you alone!”

“Celia!” Lorelai’s voice thunders. “Celia, please. You’re the most powerful out of all of us after me. I don’t know what Xeros has planned, but it’s going to be serious if even Gravitas is here to intercept us. I need you to protect that child. To protect our future. Please.”

Celia stands in silence for a moment before eventually hanging her head down, her tears hidden beneath her helmet.

“…Fine,” she concedes. “But please Lorelai, come back safe.”

“I will. I made a promise to Ascalon after all, didn’t I?”

“Heh, you better. That dimwit won’t be able to function without you.”

Lorelai gives her aide one final smile before manifesting a pair of pale white wings and flying out into the leveled forest below, her golden armor shining in the sun’s light. Two wings are adorned on the sides of her helmet, an homage to the first of the Seraph, Valkyrie, and displays her status as one of the top officers in the order, a Throne. The Polus insignia, a sword wrapped in wings, lies on her chest-plate while two blades are sheathed by her side—the twins Solga and Lunas.

She lands onto the ground and gazes at the mechanical legion before her. The hulking knight slowly makes his way towards her, his every step leaving a stained mark upon the earth. The air around her grows heavier and heavier as the behemoth closes in on the fortress.

The rest of Lorelai’s crew emerges from the collapsed Alexandria. Although still dazed from the fall, they quickly assemble before her with rapid speed. They are the best the kingdom has to offer, and they will not yield easily before their invaders.

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“Commander Lorelai, we are at your command. What are your orders?” the leading officer asks.

“We shall make our stand here,” Lorelai decrees. “Reorganize your ranks! All combat personnel, group yourselves into squads of five and move as one. Healers move to the back, and I will lead from the front. To arms!”

The knights hurriedly rush into their formations, instincts moving their bodies from years of grueling practice. They assemble with mechanical precision, each step devoid of unnecessary motions, and their demeanor quickly hardens as they form a defensive position around the ruined fortress. Fear and terror have no place within their ranks, for even a split second of disorganization shall spell death amidst the battlefield.

The hulking knight stops in place as he observes the army of Polus warriors before him. He lets out a deep, gravelly chuckle and rests his giant spiked mace on his shoulder.

“It seems that you flying nuisances have finally deigned to grace the peasants of this land with your presence,” Gravitas remarks. “You Seraph always fly away when you encounter danger, but now that I am here, you shall experience a true battle of life and death.”

“I should be saying the same to you,” she grunts. “To think the Grand General would send his trump card to this little corner of the world. Without your gravity, it’s only a matter of time before The Arch Magus destroys your eastern front.”

“Oh little Seraph, you underestimate our capabilities. My soldiers will be just fine without me. Besides, it will only take me a second to deal with you and retrieve The Comet. I shall return before The Arch Magus is alerted of my absence.”

“Now you’re the one that’s underestimating me. I didn’t become one of The Thrones just because I can fly, a fact that you’ll soon experience personally.”

Although Lorelai appears confident, doubt wrestles inside of her, and her uncertainty grows by the minute. Gravitas’s power is constantly exuding its pressure onto her, and though she still has enough speed to avoid his strikes, her swordsmanship is fundamentally designed to compliment The Seraph’s ability to fly. Without it, her full potential lies sealed with her wings clipped to the ground.

Despite her doubts, she draws her blades and raises them up high. Even if the odds are stacked against her, she still has a mission to complete; A person that she must return to, no matter the cost.

“Everyone!” she commands. “Let our cries engulf the very earth itself. For Polus!”

“For Polus!” they all yell in unison.

“Hahaha, how amusing!” Gravitas cackles to himself. “We can’t let these flying pests take the spotlight now, can we? Warriors of Nox Caelum, Charge!”

The Caelum troops rush into with unnatural vigor, eyes smothered in madness, as the battlefield devolves into a chaotic discord of steel and blood.

Lorelai dashes in and attacks Gravitas in rapid bursts, utilizing quick flurries and maneuvering around him to strike at his gaps. Although Gravitas is slow, his blows are deep and powerful, and a single hit from his spiked mace will cripple her upon impact.

“Surely this is not all that you’re capable of, is it?” Gravitas asks with a bored demeanor. “I’m disappointed, so disappointed little Seraph. Where are those wings that your ilk are so proud of?”

“And whose fault is it that I can’t use them?” Lorelai mocks while deflecting his fierce attacks.

“Hehe, guilty as charged, I suppose. But do not take it personally. I would love to face off against you as equals, but I have my orders, and Xeros is very clear with his desires.”

Gravitas attempts to bash Lorelai with his shield, but she bounces off of it, elegantly repositioning herself back into a battle stance. Gravitas is protected on all sides, and his massive bulwark prevents her from being able to attack him during his strikes. She dashes to the side in an attempt to whittle away at the less protected areas of his armor, but even those areas are heavily fortified with his aura.

Lorelai continues her onslaught, but it is proving ineffective. Gravitas stands firm, his entire body protected by Nox sorceries and enchantments. He swings with all his vigor, the blows so powerful that shockwaves ring throughout the forest, sending both foe and ally alike into the air. All Lorelai can do is dance around him and avoid getting hit, but her stamina is draining by the moment, and soon she will lag behind enough for him to land a solid blow. She has to do something, and fast; the gravity weighing down on her is growing stronger with each step she takes.

“I call upon the twin treasures of The Seraph!” Lorelai proclaims.

Although she wants to save her strength, the situation is looking dire, and she can’t afford to gauge Gravitas’s strength any longer.

“Lunas of the moon, Solga of the sun, lend me the strengths of the heavens above so that I may smite those that would chain us to the earth!”

A whirlwind of aura begins to gather around the twin blades, the pressure so strong that Gravitas is unable to take a step forward.

Bright light wraps itself around the golden sword, and the temperature begins to rise as the light intensifies and condenses into a smoldering hot ray.

On the other sword, a silver hue emanates and gathers on the outside of the blade, chilling the air around it and growing in size until a freezing beam of silver coats the weapon.

“The little Seraph is finally showing her true colors!” Gravitas rejoices. “Then allow me to show you a taste of my power as well!”

Gravitas thrusts his mace into the ground and purple energy begins to leak out of the crevices in his armor. The air around him grows heavier and heavier, the energy condensing itself around the spiked bludgeon until it’s covered in a blinding violet hue.

The air changes once again, but instead of getting heavier, it is now getting lighter. The burden of his armor’s weight becomes less cumbersome, until eventually the armor weighs nothing at all. His previous sluggish self is now gone, replaced by a speed that rivals even Lorelai’s movements.

The two stand still staring each other down, waiting for the perfect time to strike. The world around them seems to freeze, the tensions unbearable, until finally the two charge at each other, intending to end the battle in a final strike of decisiveness.

But suddenly, right before they’re able to clash, a malevolent aura steeps across the battlefield. Soldiers who are fighting in the background begin to violently tense up and collapse, screaming and begging for help as a maddening force invades their mind. In an instant, cries of pain and suffering reverberate through the air, and the land turns into a hellish landscape full of hysteria and insanity.

Lorelai and Gravitas freeze in place as a primal urge inside begs them to run away and cower. An unbearable malaise stifles the air, and the two disregard their previous aggressions in a moment of mutual terror.

They are filled with fear. Their instincts are screaming at them that something dangerous is coming.

The two stay motionless. Not a word is spoken between them. They don’t need to, for the presence before them is more horrifying than anything they have ever felt before. An atrocity is approaching.

Recognizing the danger, they instinctively agree to a truce, and Gravitas lifts the gravity off of Lorelai. Freed from the pressure, she condenses the energy around her and forms a pair of glistening white wings and takes to the sky.

High above the clouds, Lorelai spots a figure emerging out of The Miasma.

It is a singular knight, but something is off about it. The pattern on its armor looks ancient, and patches of rust and decay cover the outside of the once shining silver, now dulled and muted.

The knight shuffles forward, moving without any conscience. Its body twitches and jerks erratically, and it eventually makes its way towards the corpse of a Polus soldier. It studies them for a moment, seemingly entranced by the design on their armor, before grasping the spear impaled upon their body and pulling it out.

It locks its sights on Lorelai and takes a step forward, trampling the bodies below and appearing indifferent to the bloodshed around it. There is no light in its eyes, no will. All that remains is a hollow emptiness.

The time has come for The Knight to enter the battlefield once again.

As it always has. As it always will.