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[>>Now replaying: Log 1.13 - Luck is just a Number, and so are Casualties]
Date: Error
Location: Zephyro’s Domain?
//Go on, shuffle the tarot, pull, turn the card, and see Death, smiling beatifically. She will always hold you98)*(*@^%^%$ere are many, many more cards to draw from and #*&%@&%//
//Houston, we’ve had a problem.//
[>>DATA CORRUPTED]
E3 %Guys, do you see that? There’s some sort of symbol on that wall.%
E1 %…Oh shackle me…%
E2 %What?! Why are you crying, Voni? Move aside, let me see… oh you can’t be hexing serious!%
E3 %What?! What is that?%
E1 %…the insignia of the Salvatrix…%
E2 %…the hexed sign of the Witch Queen.%
If I had asked a fresh-faced cadet about our odds just a minute ago, he would have given us 100:1 in our favor winning the fight. I knew better, of course. Something could always go wrong, and the war wasn’t over until the last sword was in its sheath, and the last chamber unloaded.
I hated to be proven right, but we had underestimated the Ferals’ ability to grow from absorbing Essence, and now the outcome was all but a coin toss. If we didn’t get back the upper hand fast, the Ferals would spiral out of control and the city would be lost.
I couldn’t waste any more time.
“Everyone, look alive! We will head in and relieve the Vizier, then mop up the remaining Ferals, let’s go!”
“Sultana, shouldn’t we try and help the worst off squads first?” a young woman asked. She was holding a staff that was charred in several places, and her plain clothes were equally battle-worn.
For a second, as our tired soldiers readied themselves, I wavered on my decision, but then I shook my head.
“It’s our job to save as many people as we can,” I said, voice as soft as I felt. It was uncomfortable beyond measure. “It’s about momentum. Once we have the Vizier, we can bundle our strength and roll over the remaining Ferals.”
I hoped it was the right choice. The Vizier could kill several Ferals at once, but not if he was suppressed like right now. Dozens of beasts had cornered him against the wall, and he had to be careful to not leave any openings as he picked them off one by one.
“Let’s go!” I yelled, grabbing the bent mace tighter as I started moving. In my wake followed the roar of a hundred feet, and yells of anger fighting to hold down the fear. I wanted to scream myself, but I had to keep calm, or the battle would take me. Only if I kept it together could I lead these people, and keep them alive.
That resolve cracked the second the first Feral stepped into my wake. It was a scorpion, its stinger about as tall as my collarbone. Instead of legs, it had treads, which allowed for explosive movement. I had to duck to the side quickly to not get impaled by the sharp black chitin of its stinger. The air smelled acrid as it passed by centimeters from my face. I’d dodged to the left, so the angle was all wrong for a blow against its face, and I slapped away one of the Feral’s claws instead before it could clamp around my knee. That left it out of balance while I kept mine, and I used both hands to grab its tail before it could retract. Holding it in place with all my might, I stomped on its claw with one foot to pin it down. That was stupid because I was wearing sandals, but it worked long enough for the militia to swarm around me and club the thing to death.
We all gave the blue liquid that emerged from its corpse a wide berth, waited just long enough for it to evaporate, and then moved on. We had to repeat that five times before we finally reached the Vizier and joined battle. Things got trickier then because we had to make sure the beasts didn’t feed off each other the second we killed them, but just as I’d hoped, once we gave Zephyro room to breathe, the fight was all but over.
He moved with so much speed it looked almost like teleportation to me, each strike leaving a mortal wound in another Feral as he strode through their ranks. When he came closer, I could see the battle hadn’t left him untouched, however. There was blood on his face, red lines running from his eyes and nose to his chin. When he finally dispatched the last Feral to cheers of the militia, he was breathing heavily.
Before I could ask if he was alright, he said “I beseech you, Sultana, you shouldn’t be here. Should you fall—“
> A battlefield. Screams. The scent of mud and copper. Bright flashes of magic.
>
> Stolen content warning: this tale belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences elsewhere.
>
> “Fuck, Sam, why are you out here? What happened to the negotiations?”
> “Calm your cutlass, Stax. It’ll be okay.”
> “I don’t like this at all! They have—”
I shook myself out of it. I couldn’t waste time getting scared of something that never happened.
“If the city falls,” I said with more vitriol than I wanted, “there is nowhere that’s safe for either of us, Zephyro. Either we stop them here and now, or the fuckers will grow big enough to eat everything.”
“We will be safe in the Palace, Sultana. There are plans…”
“Sure, but what about the civilians?” I asked. I couldn’t believe that Zephyro of all people didn’t think of them first.
“You can not yet understand, Sultana—” he began, but I cut him off.
“Not the time. Let’s get this place secured first.”
For a second, it looked as if Zephyro wanted to explain nevertheless, but then he nodded. “Your will be done inshallah, Sultana.”
He rose and I fell in behind him. He was worried for me, and keeping myself as reasonably safe as I could be was the least I could do. I waved over the two scouts I still had available, and the militia instinctively formed a perimeter around us, with Zephyro at the tip of the spear.
“That group over there!” I said loudly, pointing toward a pack where two squads had merged. Then, more quietly, “Let’s go and be saviors.”
We charged as one. Zephyro’s blade gleamed like liquid moonlight, lighting the way through the dark. The next battle was only half as hard, despite having more Ferals to defeat, and the one after only half as bad again. Our platoon grew with each squad that we freed up, allowing us to shelter the wounded in our center, lowering our losses even further. As our number grew, the scouts had to worry less about the battle on the ground and started clearing the sky of flying Ferals with marvelous precision. As their numbers dwindled, I started calling out particularly strong Ferals on the ground, which the scouts gunned down before the beasts could come close enough to attack the militia. Each success built on the other, and so when everything was said and done, our losses were minimal. I wished this strategy would have worked at the start of the battle as well. Without a reason for the Ferals to stay in the market, however, too many of the beasts would have slipped past. Even as it was, I suspected many of the smarter ones, like the wolf earlier for example, had sneaked into the fog of war to look for easier prey.
When the last Feral died under a barrage of blue bolts, Zephyro sheathed his sword and cast a worried gaze over the battlefield. I forced myself to follow suit, no matter how much the sight made my arms tense.
Stalls had been smashed to pieces, set aflame, or both, and their wreckage cast the entire scene into a grisly light. Everything smelled of hot dust and cooling liquid, but also the much-too-familiar scent of blood.
There were hundreds of dead Ferals strewn across the ruined market.
And between them, more of Zephyro’s people than any of us wanted.
It didn’t matter how often I told myself these people were just figments of a dream. I had seen them live, and so it was terrible to watch them die.
While I tried my absolute best to keep casualties at a minimum, it hadn’t been enough for them, just like always. The familiar guilt settled on my shoulders, seeped through my eyes and nose, tingling my sinuses. As always, it was a terrible thing to realize just how much I’d gotten used to it.
At least I hadn’t frozen up during the fight, even without my friends there to keep me steady.
“We did it!” Kasha said, emerging from the crowd that had gathered around us. She was dragging one of her legs which had a nasty gash on it, but if her triumphant grin was anything to go by, it didn’t bother her much.
When Zephyro and I shot each other a glance, she misinterpreted it. “Of course, we still have to catch the Ferals that escaped, but you don’t need to worry. We have many good trackers among the Scouts. It will take a day, maybe two, tops.”
“Kasha…” Zephyro began. It was heartbreaking to watch him struggle to break the news, so I saved him by cutting him off.
“How many do you think escaped?” I asked, my tone making sure it was a leading question.
“I don’t know,” Kasha said, her smile wilting a little. “Perhaps 5? Couldn’t be more than 10, Sultana. We were vigilant.”
“I don’t doubt that,” I said, forcing myself to go slow even though I was keenly aware time was ticking by quickly. “This isn’t a rebuke. You’re just forgetting that the wall is very long, and this isn’t the only gate. Just the only gate we could defend.”
Kasha shook her head with a confident smirk that I envied her for. “So it will take longer. Our people can take turns sleeping in the palace, or just log out for a while until we find them all. It will be fine if we start soon enough.”
“We don’t have the troops for a sweep right now,” I continued, as calmly as I could manage. “All we can do is hope that the civilians make it to the Palace before the Ferals catch up to them.”
Zephyro chose that moment to speak up, insistent, pleading. “In this case, you too must hurry to the Palace, Sultana. Please understand that I won’t be able to accompany you, but I am needed here.”
Just for the span of a breath, I was tempted. I’d done well in the battle, or at least I thought so, but I was also tired and my body burned with exhaustion. The idea of an hour or two spent sitting in a carriage instead of even another minute on the battlefield made my knees grow weak in anticipation.
Still, I shook my head. “I can’t. Not while there’s still work to do, and people to defend.”
Zephyro grimaced, one hand idly adjusting his turban. “Sultana, there is no time to waste, especially now that we already have suffered casualties. You must claim the throne. It is of vital importance to my people, and to you, even though you don’t realize it yet.”
“You still haven’t told me how exactly that’s supposed to help,” I said, one eyebrow raised. It might not even matter what this ceremony did as long as it allowed me to wake up, but there was something off about the way Zephyro danced around the answer.
Unfortunately, he didn’t falter under my glare. “I must offer you a thousand apologies, Sultana, but now is not the time, nor the place. I promise you that once we are safe, I will explain everything.”
“Hold on,” Kasha interjected. “What do you mean ‘once we are safe’? We are safe, Vizier. I mean we won, right?”
Again it fell to me to be the bearer of bad news. I took a deep breath, full of the smell of broken wood, sweat, and blood.
“No,” I said quietly. “No, we haven’t, and no, we’re not. There’s still—”
A long creak followed by a sudden crash interrupted me, and I turned just in time to see the shattered pieces of the gate emerge from a cloud of dust and sand.
I could tell it was broken beyond repair with just a glance. I could be wrong, of course, considering this was all just supposed to be code, but when I gave Zephyro a hopeful look, he shook his head. So no magical powers to restore it either. Fuck.
“Allahu akbar,” Kasha whispered.
“Yeah,” I agreed, staring through the gaping hole that was all that was left of the broken gate.