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XX - The Sforza are united once again!

Two Northmen argued beneath the ice pillar where Duke Arnaud de Sforza was chained.

"Tell our boys on the northwest flank to go help the boss!" Shouted one of them with a pigeon cupped between the hands.

"For Bewulf, no!" Replied the other while yanking the bird from his partner's hand. "They need to stay there to block the reinforcements from the Wall of Siegfrieda! Hök sent us a message--"

"Any reinforcements should have arrived by now, you dimwit!" He stole the pigeon once again. "Hök is drunk, there are no reinforcements!"

"Yeah?" The man stole his partner's feather-pen. "We'll look like two fäne (idiots) if we take these troops outta there and we get flanked from behind!"

"You don't need that to look like an idiot!"

"Oh, you..."

They heaved words at each other. The dizzy pigeon traveled between the hands like a letter.

"You are too cautious!"

"You are too reckless!"

"Give me this pigeon--"

An axe dove against both men. They fell onto the ground, finally silenced. The pigeon flew free to the skies.

"We are here..." Said Thyra as she sheathed the weapon. She glared at the distant hill where the Northmen and Hagen's forces fought against Marzia's Fire Knights. The odor of blood and steel tainted the breeze. She felt at home.

"Queen, what will we do now?" Asked one of her subordinates. Thyra had brought a small host of warriors from Edïm with her. They were only as many as she needed to show that the Western Tribe of the North Sea was once again loyal to her.

"Stay here." She replied as she climbed the ice pillar where Duke Arnaud de Sforza sat. "He'll tell us..."

Her Northmen exchanged sights. The chants from the battlefield bothered their ears. They knew that they did not have enough voices to confront Hagen.

Thyra reached the top of the pillar. She yanked her axe from her waist as she approached Duke Arnaud de Sforza. Ice chains kept him in place.

"Here to kill me?" He asked.

"Not yet. I'm here to kill Hagen. You will help me and my men..."

"I don't do miracles." He chuckled sarcastically. "Your pathetic subordinates are dying like ants. Hagen's band is using them as meat shields. He will kill them if they try routing. They are prisoners between his forces and the Firebenders. There won’t be such a thing as your men once the Sun sets..." He leaned at the corpses dotting the battlefield. "Look."

She squeezed her eyes to see the fallen on the grassland and in the ruined forests. Their banners and flags paved the scorched earth. The distance blurred her sight from identifying the dead, yet her heart tightened with the notion that any people whom she knew could be lying dead on the battlefield. Even though those fallen were traitors, it was the blood of her tribe that painted the grass of the Black Hills.

"I must set them free," she asserted, "I’ll turn what remains of my people around and join forces with your fire scum to defeat Hagen. It's the only way."

“Need help?” He asked, mocking her despair. “How repulsive those words taste in your mouth?

"As repulsive as necessary. Once I'm done here, I'll need as many arms as I can to keep the likes of you away from Edïm."

"That is a correct assumption if I ever heard one." He stretched his arms so that his ice chain became a clear target. "Avanti (Go), then. Free me--"

Her cold axe kissed his throat.

"Don't take this is an end to our war..." Said Thyra as she frowned upon the inscriptions on her axe. The names of her father and of all the High Kings who carried that weapon before were carved on the blade. "No one in this world can stop me from avenging my ancestors." She spoke with all certainty in the world.

"We'll see about that."

The Duke thought of Verano. Although the man had no idea of what an Avatar was, he feared that the child whom he had harmed and disciplined with a cold heart could be special. The boy had tamed the sullen Ice Queen Thyra after all.

She dove her axe against his chain and set him free.

"Let's go now..." He bit a finger and whistled to the top of his lungs. Scheherazade, his lion-lizard, broke off her imprisonment and ran to the ice pillar. He glanced at Thyra. "You at least know how to mount?"

She gave him a blank stare as if her mind refused to process the stupidity of his question. Although she had never ridden on a horse, she assumed that her time on Ness, a Sea Serpent, had qualified her for anything else.

"You'll need to ride on the front," he frowned upon his approaching mount, "that's where your men can see you."

"Ride? I..." She looked away. The thought of controlling an animal on her own bothered her. Verano was the one who gave her enough trust in an animal to endure a trip. "I don't like mounts. A Northman does well on their own--"

"There's a reason why war is called a theater." He glared at her. "Do what I tell you or lose the battle."

She looked at the corpses marking the battlefield. The dead whispered words of incitement into their Queen's ears without uttering a word. The Northmen do not bury their fallen for fear that they won't reach Val-Hella, the realm of spirits.

"I will do it." Replied Thyra as she stood on the edge of the ice pillar. She calculated her jump to the backs of Scheherazade, Duke Arnaud's lion-lizard.

The Duke, Thyra and her small host crossed the River Tummel and headed to the hill that Hagen's warriors encircled. The man’s soldiers formed a thick semi-circle around Marzia's troops that stood on the hill.

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Verano contorted on the ground with a hand on his heart and the hill to his backs. The Northment covered all his exits. Yet he could not act. The sudden power that had arrived and whitened his eyes was over. The transformation had exhausted him and almost costed him his life.

"Get him while he's down!" Shouted a Captain from Hagen's Warband. Hagen's men stood behind Thyra's former warriors as they reluctantly charged the fallen boy. They feared that his eyes would glow white once again and that his power would overwhelm them.

Yet the boy had no reaction while his aggressors rushed towards him with axes in hands. A harp's song was the only thing that reached his ears:

"Verano, Verano..."

"I-Is this--" He coughed. "C-Candorra's ballad about me?"

A rock hit his forehead.

"O-Ouch," snorted Verano with his eyes half open, "w-who is it?"

He opened his eyes and saw the desperate head from Giovanni, his architect friend, pointing at the Northmen who were about to crush the boy. Sound returned to his ears.

"Stand up, Verano!" Yelled Giovanni.

"Argh--" Screamed Verano as he stretched his arms to push him away from the dirt. He felt as if his bones had become softer than a birch's leaf.

 "I-I can't?" Those words fell upon him like a hammer of mortality. His backs touched the ground again, yet this time he felt nailed to the dirt. Power had come with a terrible price.

The approaching Northmen ravaged the earth as they advanced. Idle, Verano knew that his fate did not differ from the trampled patches of grass underneath his enemies' feet.

 "Bene (Good), kids. You've completed my essay about Seneca's subjective interpretation of Iusos's new metaphysics through the Senecan dialectic method of Senecacism." He heard the voice of Father Seneca, the egotistical priest who had (poorly) taught him how to read and write. The man lectured him, Marzia and Arnaud. Verano saw himself as a child once again. The priest continued: "I'll let you know that despite what your father may say about me and my teachings..."

"He called a good for nothing worm tongue." Said Verano with a naive smile on his face. "I asked what that was, he ignored me…

"Yes, that's what he called me," the Priest rolled his eyes, "and my goal is to show you that this knowledge is of uttermost importance."

"I don't think we need that," snorted Arnaud Jr, "I'm gonna be a Fire Knight! What can I do with all this paper? Throw it at the kamaritans?"

"Shut up, Arnaud!" Intervened Marzia. 

Verano faltered.

"Arnaud made a good point." He said with a hand on his chin.

Marzia snorted:

"Now don't you dare..."

"Well, he's certainly going to be a brainless Fire Knight who will own some land, drink wine and scheme some petty wars elsewhere," continued Father Seneca, "Marzia will be a brilliant Duchess, Queen or may I say it, Empress..."

The girl smiled wide.

"If she finds out a way to be less neurotic about what doesn't go her way."

She made a scowl uglier than a ferocious dog and crossed her arms.

"And Verano," Father Seneca turned towards the boy. He was too young and his capacity to Firebend was still unknown. "What are you going to do?"

"M-Me?" He recoiled.

"Of course!"

Marzia and Arnaud Jr stared at their brother. Verano swallowed dry. He felt different: the others had a predicted fate, yet he had the curse of making a choice. The boy recoiled as if Father Seneca threatened him. Feeling different from the family was a feeling that he never overcame.

Arnaud Jr pressured him to speak:

"You gonna be a knight, right, Verano? Like me?" 

"It's dangerous!" Marzia punched Arnaud’s arm. "My big bro can't Firebend..."

Arnaud rolled his eyes.

"And this is why nobody asks your opinion!" He remarked.

Father Seneca swung his head at the children's foolishness.

"So," he spoke loud so that Arnaud Jr and Marzia would be silent, "what it going to be Verano," he faced the boy, "will you be a man of the studies, a natural philosopher like me? A man dedicated to understanding the machinery of the Grey Guardian..."

"He'll be a knight when he grows up! I'm sure of it!" Yelled Arnaud Jr with his hands clasped.

"Verano will be an elegant court physician!" Said Marzia."And he'll stay near to mend me when I need it!"

Verano hesitated: 

"I..." He swallowed dry. "I-I don't know what I will do when I grow up." He frowned. "All that I really want..” He blushed as he faced his siblings. “Is to be with you guys."

Verano opened his eyes and saw himself back to the present. The whiplash between the warm past in the Duchy of Sforza and the cold Alba in the desolate North was painful. The injuries imprisoning him to the ground were not what harmed him, but the death of his childish illusion of immortality. He dreamed of being together with his family forever, yet he waited alone for death. 

"What is that flame?" Faltered a Northman as he halted his attack. "Look, you fools! From the shores!"

The Northmen turned towards the horizon and saw a flaming sphere crossing the plains.

“Dodge!” Yelled the men.

The fire drew a fiery line separating Verano and his attackers. 

The boy rose his neck to face the origin of the attack. The flames had come from afar, and he could not see a face. Yet the wind carried Arnaud Jr's voice to his ears:

"I told I got your back, bro!"

"Arnaud..." Verano faltered with light in his eyes.

The Northmen stopped their attack. They stared at the curtain of fire that Arnaud's had ignited from the ground. 

"What are you waiting for?" Hagen, their leader, rose his voice. He left a hole in the ground. Cyan blue water surrounded his body, healing his heavy wounds. "Want him to kill us all--"

The ground shook. Arnaud’s fire curtain opened: a hundred horses from Il Pugno Lombardo, the warriors from the Duchy of Sforza, cut through the flames and charged the Northmen with spears directed at their hearts.

"Run--" Yelled a Northman in vain.

The knights ran over and trampled their enemies.

The Northmen flew like wild animals standing beneath fire. Verano watched bedazzled to the spectacle of fire. 

"I found you!" Said Marzia pulling him from the ground.

"Marzia?” He could not believe that he heard her voice. “You--"

Verano lost his air as he looked her in her eyes. There was nothing to say.

Marzia embraced him tight without uttering a word. Her grasp felt warmer than any bed. His heart beat like a drum.

"We must go, bene (okay)?" She touched his cheek as she glanced at her horse. "Count Adelhard will attack soon. We need to get out of here!"

"A-A..." He stuttered painfully. "A-Alright."

"Come," she held his waist for him to climb her horse. She jumped on her mount and swung the animal's collar. ‘Move!” She yelled at the animal.

Her horse rushed to the shores, leaving behind a hell of fire and steel from the battle.

"They will..." Faltered Verano as he glanced at the Fire Knights whom they left behind.

"They will be alright. They are from home! We can actually do some hammer and anvil!" She referred to the cavalry strategy of mauling enemy lines, retreating and attacking once again. “Wait—“ Marzia frowned. She felt as if her mount ran too fast. “What’s going on?”

Verano faced the grass and saw that the dirt beneath the mount’s hooves turned into red ice. He rose his voice:

"Stop--"

The horse slid on the ice and stumbled upon the ground. Verano and Marzia fell from their mount and rolled on the ground.

“Argh—“ The boy moaned in pain as he glanced at his sister. “A-Are you alright?”

“She is for now,” replied Hagen. His loud steps made the ice tremble. His chest armor and helmet were gone. All that he had was a scowl possessed with anger.

"Thought you'd flee, Avatar?” The man asked with a grin on his face. “You've shamed me enough. But I’m glad everyone was there to witness your power," Hagen frowned upon his injuries. The boy was only a second away from claiming his life. "There's no telling how famous my name will be once I have your blood on my axe—”

"Here lies yet another buffoon who stood on the way of the Sforza." Arnaud Jr mocked him.

“Arnaud?” Marzia’s eyes widened as she heard his voice.

The boy nonchalantly walked on the red ice and lifted his family from the ground. He continued:

"I ran out of nice words for you, High King," he snapped his fingers, "it's time for the fist to talk--"

"Oh, look!" Hagen laughed. "The fatty Prince can walk..."

"Say what you want, redhead! We'll make you swallow it!" Arnaud rose his fist at the man. Verano and Marzia stood by his side. They served as arguments for his statement. Arnaud continued:

"Fear, Hagen: the Siblings de Sforza are together again!" He affirmed with a confident smirk. "And you've pissed us all off!"