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21. Assault on Larcbust

With Raine by her side, Seraphina stood on the hill overlooking Larcbust’s farm fields. Below, the farmers were tending to their crops, evaluating which were ripe enough for reaping. The season of harvest was only days away, four in number. Across the fields, within the city Reggie coordinated with the Shepherds in the market. Locals they were, whose family managed to acquire the fields with the richest soil and over the years become the main supplier of fruit and vegetable for the enemy base. All on the League’s coin, but it was the only way to have any sort of consistent access to the barricaded encampment without force.

Further away from her position, cornered by the city, the fortress and the farm fields, there was a valley where the Larcbusters raised their livestock. There were no Shepherds among those, for they never left the valley for anything other than provisions they could not grow themselves. Essentially useless to the League’s network, the Shepherds never approached them, and four roamers that Seraphina and the others agreed were best suited for the job were paying the price.

Never before had anyone thought of attacking Larcbust’s army camp. The enemy numbers alone had been enough to discourage the League before any realms would stand with them. As a result, the League didn’t spend any resources, human or otherwise, to infiltrate the encampment. Being the fresh produce supplier was enough. For the League’s plans to work though, they needed to know more. They needed to know their actions would reach the brains of the enemy.

Unfortunately for the hundred sent ahead, their questioning revealed the most certain way to reach the general and his commanders in the manner they wished was the loner stockbreeders in the valley. And so, six days prior, twelve men and women made their way to the valley. They could not hope to turn the loners, for the empire didn’t actually hold their allegiance, but they would try to figure out which shipment they had to tamper with before it reached the base.

As long as they did, the Shepherds had a chance to hurt the enemy even before their forces arrived. Like Seraphina, many of the hundred left open conflict as a last resort. Once more, like Seraphina, many dabbed in the art of alchemy and with their knowledge, they undertook the task of making three different venoms.

One, ample in quantity, for the Shepherds’ produce, to weaken the imperials, make them sick and impair them. Reggie was in the city to arrange they deliver the infused produce at the correct time, four days into the season of harvest.

A second batch they made, out of monkshood, to dump into the wells the army had long appropriated, to gradually drive them mad with hallucinations. That they were already doing as soon as they were making the poison. A fortnight had passed since they started, and they’d found their endeavour bore fruit within days. On the side of the barracks opposite to Seraphina’s position, there had been a few unfortunate recruits who followed the phantom voices and lost their lives to the roamers covering the area. Stripped of their clothing, they laid underground while the roamers kept their belongings. A small chance, yet risky one, to get inside the fortifications under disguise. They’d used it already to gather information.

The last batch, Seraphina’s specialty, was a hemlock brew Emmery had taught her to make. Lethal, yet soundless, for it paralyzed its victim before asphyxiation killed them. That they planned to use on the monster’s heads. Four they were and oversaw the camp and recruit training. Four the Shepherds planned to poison.

And while Seraphina took part in every arrangement and orchestration, weighing in her thoughts and, more often than not, disagreement, she didn’t involve herself in their execution. She still had a target on her head and no one wanted to reveal her presence before they were ready. Similarly, to the attack on Ironham, she stayed her blades and would continue to do so until the assault on the imperial base.

Such was the situation, and so she stayed far from the city and the encampment. The only one of the hundred sent ahead. Four days to the harvest, nine till the rebel shopkeepers delivered their poisoned produce. Ten days before the valley’s herders brought their livestock’s meat to the lieutenants’ cook. A fortnight until the attack and one step closer to the end.

Her thoughts were interrupted by Raine’s deep growl. She bent down and rubbed the wolfess’s lower jaw. “Heard it too. Go.” She whispered. Raine cocked her head, but soon ran off, down into the woods. With two daggers in hand, she followed, crouched. She could hear Raine growling. Close to the clearing of their camp. She approached. They’d heard the growls as well and they were running away from her. Two of them.

Seraphina sheathed the daggers and waited until they slipped past the tree she was hiding behind to enter pursuit. Raine fell in step with her and once Seraphina whistled, she spurred on and pounced on the leading man. Seraphina tackled the second one. She whistled again and saw Raine clutch the man’s neck between her jaws, but she didn’t clench them. Both bore light clothing and minimal armor. Scouts, Seraphina guessed.

She put her knee on the back of her tackled foe, a woman she noticed, and a dagger to the base of her neck. “State your business.” She said to the trembling scout under her.

The woman ever so slowly turned her head sideways and pulled at her ear to reveal her Shepherd tattoo. Still trembling, she spoke. “Lady Seraphina? Daughter of Brenton and wife to Reginald, son of Rowan? Councilman Barkley sent us, he guessed you’d camp around this hill.”

Seraphina spun the dagger on the woman’s neck. Barkley’s words echoed in her childhood memories. “Until you master control over your emotions, don’t camp amidst trees. If you can’t sleep without your nightmares setting everything on fire, camp at the top of hills or clearings. If you grow up to roam the land like your favourite teacher, you’ll have a good vantage point too. Remember that.” After his elemental lessons, he’d tickle her and Emmery until neither could breathe. He’d known it wasn’t the safest option as enemies would easily see them in adulthood, but at the age of ten, when one nightmare had them scorching everything around them while they’d been sleeping, clearings had been the only place they could make camp. At the time, he’d never thought they’d go off and become roamers for the League.

Seraphina smiled at the fond memory. “Of course...” She muttered and gave a long whistle. Raine opened her mouth wider and removed herself from the other scout. Seraphina extended her arm and helped the woman up. “Didn’t he also mention that you shouldn’t try to sneak up on me?”

The answered, swiping the mud of his face. “He did, but there are imperials camped out at the foothill. We treaded lightly.”

“They’re Shepherds in imperial clothing. Disguises to enter Larcbust without suspicion.” Seraphina said sheathing her dagger as Raine came to sit by her side. “And you are?”

“Jillian, and this is Tanner. Mountmenders.” The woman said. “Sent to let the hundred know our force has come.”

“Do you know why you’re almost a fortnight late? The attack’s only days away.” Seraphina said crossing her arms.

“Need to know only. Maybe they’ll tell you.” Tanner said, pursing his lips.

His frame was almost turned away from her as he spoke. He was looking at her sideways, not straight, and his body was rigid, as if he was holding something in. The Seraphina of the past would ignore the antics of the man, for she’d cared little what anyone thought of her place among the Shepherds. That Seraphina had little to sacrifice.

Only her life.

The Seraphina standing in front of him wasn’t the same. Not even close. She scratched at her nails, removing the mud underneath them, and kept her eyes down. “Need to know, huh? And they might tell me? Hmm, you think me better than you?” Jillian tried saying something, but Seraphina didn’t let them answer. “‘Cause I’m not. The only reason they’d tell me is whatever happened concerns my family and you better pray to the elements it’s not bad news.” Flames appeared at the tips of her nails. On purpose. For good measure. Abruptly, she snuffed them and pointed east. “Every eight hundred paces or so, you’ll find more of our camps. Last one’s around the far corner of the compound. Everyone else is either in the city or the valley at the moment.”

Jillian nodded. “Thank you. We will move on right away. Plenty to inform.”

Seraphina nodded back. “Have they set up yet?”

“When we were leaving yesterday, there were few preparations left.” Tanner said and Jillian confirmed.

With that they parted. Seraphina returned to her and Reggie’s camp, loaded their things on their horses and led the way to Shepherds. When she broke out of the woods, Raine didn’t remain behind, but rather came to Nightlight’s side, careful not to get under the mare’s hooves.

Upon reaching the rebel settlement, obscured from Larcbust’s view by the woods in between, Seraphina noticed she wasn’t the first of the hundred to arrive. She passed by Audrey, who told her she’d sent her partner in Larcbust and the valley to inform their comrades of the hoard’s arrival, Reggie included. Seraphina thanked her, knowing she no longer had to return to her camp with Reggie so he could come back to her. She left Nightlight and Skye, Reggie’s mare, in the care of the stablemen and, with the Shepherds’ direction proceeded to the councilmen’s tent.

When granted entry, she found more of the hundred reporting their findings, plans and results to the council and the commanding officers. When Laura noticed her and Raine, she called her next. “Well met, Lady Seraphina. We hear the hundred have disrupted our enemies more than you all hoped and there’s more to come, is it not?” She said, glancing around the table of councilmen. “Do you have anything to add?”

Seraphina looked at Russell, trying to guess if he’d reported of the hundred’s suspicions. She found the answer in the shake of his head. “It’s a suspicion we all share, not a report. We have no proof...”

Gappy seemed intrigued. “What is it? Tell us.”

Seraphina took the chance. “We think they have a Drudge in there. Perhaps more.”

Murmours spread in the tent. Yates, a councilman from Embersummit who wasn’t at Ironham, asked them to settle down. “We knew they are many, it’s of no surprise some may be here.” He told everyone, before turning to Seraphina and Russell. “What makes you think that? Any way to know what kind?”

“A convoy arrived from the east. There was a grey carriage, sealed on every side, that the imperials guarded closely. Before the envoy reached the base, we felt the earth shake and the imperials immediately rushed to the grey carriage.” Seraphina said. “It could be coincidence, but we think, the Elementals I mean, it was no ordinary earthquake. We believe a Basher was behind it.”

“We’ll take this into consideration. Roamers, you’re excused.” Yates said.

After a short bow, the roamers, Russell and Seraphina included, walked out of the ten, leaving their leaders to discuss. Just a few strides later, he pulled her to the side, earning a growl from Raine. He took his hand off her arms right away, his eyes locked on the wolfess. When he reassured himself she wouldn’t pounce, he returned his eyes to Seraphina. “Something’s going on. People are missing.”

Seraphina glanced around. Everywhere she looked, she found bodies. Numerous. Maybe they couldn’t match the force resting inside the wooden walls by Larcbust, but she had never seen so many of her people gathered in one place. They numbered twelve thousand, more or less. After the casualties of Ironham. But she knew Russell. He wasn’t the man to say anything unless he was sure it was correct, which was why he hesitated in his report. “Who?”

“Several bashers for sure.”

“Ave?” She asked and he nodded. “Did you speak to his sister?”

“No.” He started scratching the back of his head. “Sue and I… we had a fight. Told me to get lost after she found me in bed with another.” He raised his hands, an awkward smile playing on his lips. “Not my proudest moment, I know.”

“I’ll talk to her, see what’s up. Anyone else or is it just him?” Seraphina asked.

“When I noticed he wasn’t with Sue, I checked with the other Elementals. More bashers are missing, but it could be others. I can’t be sure.”

Seraphina gripped his arm. “I’ll talk to Sue and get back to you.” They shook arms. “Should I put a good word in?”

He chuckled, looking down. “Nah, I fucked this up. No good word can clean up the mess I made.”

“Maybe she’ll forgive you.”

“Would you?” She stared at him, eyebrows raised. He laughed. “Didn’t think so.” He stopped laughing and took a step back. “I still care about her though, so let me know if her brother’s alright, okay?”

“Will do. Until later, Russell.” She said before he left. She stayed put, waiting for Barkley. A long while later, even after many more tents were up and ready for the night and a scent of freshly boiled broth travelled in the air turning her stomach upside down, the first of the councilmen started coming of the command tent. Barkley was among the last. Seraphina let him finish his discussions before approaching him, finding place in his open arms. “Finally. Thought you’ll spend all night deliberating.”

“We’re days away from a battle, what did you think?” He said and didn’t let go. Instead, his arms pulled her in, tighter. Still embraced, he took steps back, out of sight.

She let it. When he finally pulled back, she stared, motionless. “Russell was right. Something’s gone wrong? Viv…?”

Barkley wiped a tear. “No, news from the south is… better than anyone could ever hope.” He touched her face, held on her jaw. “A messenger came from Briohall. They reached the city without a problem, but…” He cleared his throat, gulping down hard, as if he was trying to hold down vomit.

Seraphina couldn’t breathe. “Out with it, uncle. Just say it.”

Barkley sighed. “Your father died of illness. A bad cold. He declined too fast.”

Her face felt warm. “If they reached Briohall, why didn’t Lucian heal him?”

“I don’t know, little one. Ugh, I don’t know. Mirabelle didn’t say more than that.”

“Chloe?”

“Everyone else is healthy. Heartbroken, but healthy.” He said and she walked back into his arms. Since she was five, reaching Bandville with Maxwell and Brenton, Barkley was her father figure. Brenton had been lost in his grief and later vengeance. Broken, incapable of caring for the twins. He had hindered their ascension in the League’s ranks, he’d been their toughest judge, never pleased with anything they did. Or so it seemed. Until the desolation of Bandville, she never knew her father for who he really was.

Her face was still warm, with fresh tears running down her cheeks. Not because of fond memories, but the lost chance of making some after it was all over and she’d return to her family. If she did. She’d always thought it was her that might not make it, not the people she sent away to safety. She touched her forehead to Barkley’s chest. “He was frail. After Bandville, he… It took a toll, but I didn’t think…” She took a deep breath, shook her head. She pulled back, wiped the tears, stopped the sniffles. “You said news from the south’s good. What happened?”

“Sera…”

“Good news, uncle. Please. I need some.”

He nodded and placed a hand on her shoulder. “We can’t tell people, lest they get captured, but we have a better chance. There’s a passage under the Dark Highlands. From Neverfall straight into Threne Keep. Vivienne can get in without a fight, undetected.”

“What? How do we not know it?”

“The Neverfall Viscounts have protected the secret well. Most have been Aetherals so it’s no surprise. Even if a Shepherd stumbled on it at some point, they didn’t know what it was.”

“Aetherals? Fergus is an Aetheral?” She asked incredulous. “Keegan never noticed?”

“No. While he’s an Aetheral, he’s different from Vivienne. Don’t exactly understand how, but Keegan couldn’t recognize what he didn’t know.” Barkley said, rubbing his eyes.

“The passage. Is that why Bashers are missing?” She asked connecting the dots. “Max and Viv need them to dig?”

He nodded. “Not just dig. The passage is a maze that only a Basher can follow. The Aetherals of old apparently used onyx walls as markers, but also placed traps on them so no one can dig around without getting buried alive. Oris almost caved himself in trying.”

“So we need well attune and well trained Bashers to melt it through? Like Ave?” She asked, knowing the answer. “Did you at least tell their families why they’ve left?”

“Yes, but without the details.” He said and smiled. “There’s more.”

◊◊◊

Barkley told her Wallowdale, Neverfall and Oremart stood with them. Through words, not bloodshed. Through truth, not guile. Not a single soul was lost in gaining the south’s aid. It was no wonder the League had established a more secure and successful network there than north of the Dark Highland. Even the savages of Oremart, a people who once performed human sacrifices in the name of the Emperor, followed their new Viscount’s lead in alliance with the League. By Seraphina’s estimate, Maxwell’s and Vivienne’s side saved over forty days’ time, just by avoiding a siege on Oremart’s well-guarded fortress of a city.

When the camp was ready, the councilmen and Gavin, their commander, asked for a hearing. They told everyone of the League’s alliance with Wallowdale, Neverfall and Oremart, news that brought about lots of cheering, and told them that their chances of getting the Emperor killed had gone up. For Vivienne’s safety they didn’t disclose any details, but the confidence they presented spread through the camp fast, and no one asked for any. Knowing Vivienne’s heavy burden was getting lighter was enough.

Like many roamers, she set up her own tent, just off the edge of the League’s settlement, as she was no fan of large crowds. Like most, she received her instructions and then spent the following four days preparing herself. She sharpened her daggers. She cleaned her armor, sewing patches into her weathered leather graves. She fletched more arrows, picking out the best ones to set loose first. She cut her hair to her usual length, for it had grown lower than her shoulder and at the top, it was obscuring her vision.

Then she waited.

On the sixth day, she woke up to Reggie slipping into the tent and under the small blanket with her. The moment he settled, he fell asleep. Even though she didn’t talk to him, she found comfort in his touch. She stayed in place, curled against him, for a long while, lost in her thoughts and his touch, giving him time to sleep in peace. No one disturbed them.

When he finally woke up, deep into midday, he tightened his grip around her and sighed. He touched his lips to her shoulder, the back of her neck, fresh from her recent haircut, before holding her close. “I guess you heard.”

He slipped his fingers in her clenched fist, loosening the grip until he could hold her hand. “He was a good man, with the best intentions for you.”

Her face was hot again. More tears. “My father died, Reg.” Her hand trembled in his. “We face death every day, yet he died of a bad cold.”

“He was in bad shape after Bandville, don’t forget what Vivienne found.” He said rubbing her hand. “It was his time, Sera.” She turned around fast, causing Raine to growl by her feet before calming again, and pushed her face into his neck. “It’s hard, but time will ease the pain. I promise. I know.”

“Shh…” He said the words because it was his way of comforting others. Words were important to him. But nothing he said soothed her nearly as much as his embrace did. “Just hold me.”

He did.

Until their bellies complained. Only then did they gather themselves and their tent. They knew that after a quick briefing, they’d be among the first line of attack, due to Seraphina’s nature. On their way to the briefing, they passed by horse master Martin of Boatwright and Seraphina had them stop, after saddling Nightlight and Skye.

“What’s wrong?” He asked.

Seraphina looked at Raine. “She hasn’t left my side. I think she’s follow us.”

“So?”

“Maybe we should leave her with Martin?” As if Raine understood what Seraphina was saying, she howled. “For her safety.”

Reggie glanced between them, before extending his hand. Raine came and licked it, before returning to Seraphina’s side. “I remember telling you she does whatever she wants. Unless you want to bind her, I don’t think you can stop her.”

Seraphina stared at Raine and she stared back. “She stayed behind in Ironham…”

“She’s made her mind, Sera, you’ll have to bind her if you don’t want her to follow. I’m not going to.” He said and rubbed Raine’s head, smiling. Seraphina sighed, defeated, and nodded. “I know I feel a little better now.”

They went to their briefing, got their orders and proceeded to group with their team. They mounted their horses, with Raine standing next to Nightlight, and they headed towards Larcbust.

Three days to the attack.

◊◊◊

The third night found Seraphina, Reggie and Raine with three other Scorchers, four Bashers and three roamers, perched on the mountainside in the north side of the imperial camp. From their vantage point, they scoured the camp, looking for the safest path to their goal. The imperials’ catapults stood tall and menacing, their top visible even from outside. The Shepherds’ first plan had been to destroy those and every other war machine they would find, but it had been discarded when Laura had reminded them they’d need them against the walls of Dawnfield. And so, they devised a plan to block the imperials from reaching the catapults.

A scorcher’s fire and a basher’s gravel were the key components.

Four catapults. Four Scorchers, four Bashers. All well attune and trained. They didn’t need to man them, just keep the imperials away.

They chose a longer path, but one that kept them away from the privies, full in capacity with still more imperials outside waiting their turn to empty their bowels. There were many who weren’t able to hold it in and made their way outside. Those were never to return as the Shepherds lying in wait in the grass would eliminate them. The poisoned produce from the local shopkeepers worked wonders for the League, making the enemy weak and proving an almost perfect distraction.

Knowing where to look, Seraphina saw the imperial sentries fall, one after the other, under the Shepherds’ arrows. It was their signal. The Bashers went down the slope first, elevating the ground at the edge of the moat so they could walk across, not swim. Upon reaching the wooden barricade, while the rest grabbed onto a single log from the wall the best they could, the bashers pulled apart the ground so the hole around the log expanded, allowing them to raise it and remove it altogether. Then they laid the log down, into the moat. With no sentries on the look-out and the cover of night in their aid, no one noticed.

With Raine in tow, they sneaked through the camp, often coming upon an imperial or two whom they had to make quick and quiet work of. One time, they were neither fast, nor quiet, and alerted the people in the closest tent. They killed those before they had a chance to discover their fallen comrades. They stacked all the bodies in that tent, hoping no one would come to that particular spot until they were in place.

They moved on.

By the time they reached the catapults, they had already twenty-three kills. Twenty-three less threats once the battle erupted. Each Scorcher-Basher duo hid as well as they could manage within the frame of the catapult. The Bashers influenced the earth once more to elevate the ground around the machine, providing extra coverage low. Raine lied flat on the ground, by Seraphina’s crouched frame. Reggie and the three roamers, dressed in stolen imperial officer uniforms, were tasked with confirming the Monkshood-infused beef had reached the four commanders, and if not, deliver the killing blow.

The others waited.

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The Shepherds gave the infiltration team a fair amount of time to get into position at the catapults. Archers eliminated the sentries so they could create a hole in the wooden walls through a single missing log and pass unseen. At daybreak, so the Blowers could see the incoming arrows, they would attack. An envoy of Shepherds, posing as imperials, would arrive at the edge of moat requesting passage. The camp was expecting the envoy, so they would lower the bridge. Amongst the Shepherds, there were three bashers who would make the ground envelop the bridge, making it impossible to lift back.

Once they’d step inside, the bashers would do their best to cause an earthquake, strong enough to distract the imperials. They’d gauge their reaction in hopes of getting confirmation on the Drudge’s presence, maybe even a direction. No matter the answer, the two scorchers in the envoy would start fires in several spots.

Upon seeing the flames, the Shepherds would begin their advance. Scattered within the horde, every few hundred paces, Blowers were ready to deflect any arrows the enemy would let loose, minimizing the injuries. Unaware and impaired from the poisoned wells and food, the imperials would get caught in a surprise onslaught. They couldn’t predict how many imperials the horde would take out before they gathered themselves, but they were hoping for many. After that, there was no telling how the battle would turn out.

At daybreak, Seraphina and Grimes, the Basher by her side, tensed, in anticipation. The air surrounding her became hotter and the ground surrounding him trembled ever so lightly, as a purring cat. A short while later, as scheduled, the ground beneath their feet shook. Moments afterward, Seraphina felt the pyres, even at the two-thousand-pace distance. She gripped her bow tighter and knocked on an arrow. The ground started trembling again, not by Elemental influence, but rushing feet. Towards the armory across from the catapults. Seraphina glanced at her fellow Scorchers.

They nodded.

They watched the imperials ran desperately and incoherently, one atop the other, into the armory, many naked from the waist down, with feces running down their legs, and once it was full, the Scorchers set it on fire. The wind carried their screams and the stench of their burning flesh to Seraphina and the Shepherds. They didn’t let up. Though two couldn’t help but vomit, they pushed their fire out as far into the building as their attunement allowed.

More imperials came and when they saw the fire, they didn’t even try to extinguish it. They ignored their dying comrades and headed towards the catapults, oblivious of what awaited them. The Bashers stopped them. Gravel hit them as they were running. It knocked the wind out of some. Nicked many. Killing a few. The remaining imperials seized running and walked forward slowly, searching for the enemy. When they passed the line the Scorchers had agreed on beforehand, four wide rings of fire came to life. Seraphina and the Shepherds first let their arrows loose on anyone within their rings, before setting their sights on more people. As long as they had arrows, and they’d brought many, and the enemy didn’t surround them, which they couldn’t since they had their backs against the mountain and buildings on either side, they could hold their position. All was going well on their end, with the imperials terrified of the display and complete inability to snuff a Scorcher’s fire.

Until an earthshattering shake came, so violent even the Bashers lost their footing. It wasn’t natural. Just like the tremble some of the hundred had sensed when they grey wagon had passed by them a fortnight prior. It was neither directed, nor controlled, like the Shepherds’. A powerful Basher, unhinged it seemed, was at the root of the shake, Grimes confirmed. There was no doubt in her mind that a Drudge was behind it, not one of her own.

Seraphina bore witness to the damage eight Elementals could cause. Eight Elementals who cared for their lives and their objective was to protect their position. That one Drudge on the enemy’s side care not for their life, for they had no mind of their own and therefore no sense of self-preservation, and their sole objective was to find Seraphina and destroy everything in their path.

It was a weakness she could exploit.

She rose from her crouched stance, shouldered her bow and fastened her quiver strapped around her waist. If Grimes looked at her any more intensely, his eyes would bulge out of his head. “What’re you doing!? We have to hold!”

She knew he was right, but he didn’t know how useful a distraction she was against a Drudge. In theory, they’d all been told, but of the Shepherds only her, Reggie, Maxwell and Vivienne had seen firsthand how Etta’s entire focus shifted the moment she saw her. She disregarded him, parted the rings of fire and ran through the gap, followed by Raine, to the closest catapult. The Elemental duo in it was surprised, but didn’t chastise her. They waited for her reason. “Can you keep my ring aflame too?” She asked the Scorcher.

It was the Basher who answered. “Go back and tell Grimes to bring down that storage!”

The Scorcher nodded. “I’ll use the grain to fuel the fire. Go!”

Seraphina nodded and together with Raine darted back to their catapult. After telling Grimes about the storage, she slipped out toward the havoc. She came upon unsuspecting imperials, preoccupied with letting arrows fly towards Shepherds, and stabbed them in the neck and back, while Raine bit at their calves. She moved on swiftly, until she was almost hit by a ball of fire. By her estimate, one third of the distance to the camp’s clearing and the raging fight.

At once, she whistled Raine away and got to her feet. In front of her stood an old man, no more than thirty paces away. Around him lied charred corpses, imperial and Shepherd alike. She couldn’t count at the time. The moment his eyes scanned her face, they settled on her scar. Then they went wide and he snarled.

He extended his arms towards the burning buildings behind him and fire answered his call. He focused all of it on Seraphina and sent it right at her. She’d run for cover as he was getting the flames, but she still tried to stop the flames by herself. The old man wasn’t as strong an Elemental as the Basher that caused the shake, and so Seraphina was able to block the attack. Instead of putting them out, she made them form a shield in front of her and ran towards him.

He couldn’t set anything alight, he had to call fire to him. He tried it with Seraphina’s shield, but her pull was stronger than his. Just before she crashed into him, she sent the flames at his face. The strong flash disoriented him, as a Scorcher he didn’t get burned right away, and Seraphina collided with him, sending them both to the ground. Her dagger got etched in his ribcage, its tip stuck in his heart.

Looking up, she found Raine ready to pounce. She twisted the dagger, just to be safe, before removing it. Raine came to her and Seraphina rubbed her head. “Not over yet. Come on.” She told the wolfess and stood.

She didn’t dwell on the corpses around her, whether Reggie was among them. Another tremor came, not as powerful as that first one, reminding her she needed to make haste. She broke into a run, keeping a steady, yet fast pace. More charred bodies were in her way. In one case there was one in the middle of a black circle, as if the Scorcher responsible somehow managed to burn themselves along with everything else in range. With a Drudge, that proved possible, she thought as she ran.

She came upon some cracks in the ground, wide chasms had occurred between the buildings. “Earthshattering indeed.” She was getting close to the Earth Drudge. She went around the cracks, heading towards the sound of clashing swords. When she rounded another assortment of burning buildings, from the scent of food along with ashes it might’ve been the kitchens, she broke into the battleground. Imperials were fighting against Shepherds and not one, but two Earth Drudges were sending rock, gravel and plain dirt both at the imperials and the Shepherds.

The League’s Bashers weren’t on the field, each element had their task in that endevour, and the Bashers’ job was to raise the moat so the horde could advance. Until the Bashers reached the battleground, there was no way to try what Seraphina had done with the Fire Drudge she killed. She watched archers set arrows flying at the Drudges, one man and one woman, but they were deflecting them all, using the iron arrows tips. Whenever anyone got close, the Drudges simply struck the ground, erecting a cloud of dirt before pushing it at the attackers at such speed, they were thrown back, blood trickled down their body.

If anyone had gone to fetch them, the League’s Bashers could fight their way through the encampment to reach the scene, help with the Drudge of their element, but the Drudges were felling the Shepherds too fast. By the time the Bashers would reach them, the casualties would be too many.

Seraphina knew what she had to do. It had been Reggie’s idea. They’d used it on Etta in the plains of Briohall. The unfortunate girl had never seen Vivienne coming at her, because she hadn’t been looking. Only Seraphina existed for her.

Seraphina whistled at Raine and pointed at the Drudges. The wolfess dashed away and Seraphina threw herself into the fight. There were few imperials in her way still in a state of undress. Without armor to protect them. she nicked and stabbed at them with ease, allowing the Shepherds they’d be fighting against to deliver the killing blows. She found Blitz, a roamer she knew and used to train with back in Bandville, among the fighters. With a nod to each other, they put their back against each other, much like they used to do, only difference they weren’t holding wooden swords, but actual weapons, and their enemies weren’t fellow trainees, but imperials quite keen on killing them.

“Duck!” She called as an imperial brute twice her size whirled his sword around at her head. He did and the imperial’s broadsword struck the imperial Blitz was fighting. Seraphina kicked the brute between the legs and Blitz reared around to hack at his head. Then they were again back to back, waiting for the next fight in mere moments. “I need to get to the Drudges...” Seraphina stopped talking to block an imperial’s downward blow. The sheer strength of the blow was too great, making her stagger and lower her daggers, but she had other weapons in her arsenal. Her attacker caught on fire before he could strike at her again. He ran off as he burned. Many imperials around them stepped back, giving them some breathing room.

Blitz gave her a hand up. “If we fight our way to them, we’ll only slow you down. Use your fire and run, ignore the rest.” He raised his sword and blocked an attack over Seraphina’s head. “Again!” He said with strain over his effort to block. She turned around pushed fire at the attacker. Enveloped in flames, he ran off as well. “See? Go!”

Seraphina called on her element, much like she had down with the Fire Drudge, only she didn’t create a shield in front of her. She made the flames form two barriers on either side of her. Imperials and Shepherds alike stepped back, creating a path for her to start running. She did. The further she went, the more people moved out of her way. There were a few with their back to her that didn’t see her. Those ended up on the ground with their throats sliced, waiting in terrible agony for death to claim them. She sprinted away. At some point, there was a deafening sound, a war-horn's terrible howl, that had her covering her ears. In doing so, she lost her footing and fell flat on her face.

Her flaming barriers kept enemies away, while she shook her head. She fought through the forming headache. Her vision was blurry, she reached at her face and found blood running down her right eyebrow and mud on skin. She got up, spit some mud out, and reinforced the flames before she continued on.

After a while of running and slashing at unaware imperials, she came upon the last line of people before the Drudges. The Shepherds had formed a line of shields, hoping to contain them, perhaps until the Bashers arrived, but they were falling one after the other. Seraphina let her barriers burn out and went to the nearest archer she found. She used the protection of their comrades’ bodies and shields to catch her breath, before tapping on the archer’s shoulder. She turned and her eyes went wide, staring at something behind Seraphina. She spoke loud enough so the Shepherds around could hear as well. “I’m walking out there. The moment they see me, you won’t exist to them. At all. So get behind them and rain arrows on them until they stop twitching, you hear?”

She pushed through the line of Shepherd shields. The Drudges were facing away from her and were sending gravel at the shields across from Seraphina’s position. There was space between the Drudges, a fair number of strides, but seeing the speed of the flying gravel at the Shepherds, she wasn’t sure the distance was enough to dodge any projectiles.

She didn’t like her plan. Not when it came to her survival. It relied on the Drudge’s orders to capture her overpowering their will to destroy and the archers’ arrows not to hit her if they missed the Drudges. She wasn’t sure of either. But she was fairly certain her plan would work well enough to take them down. With that confidence in mind, she tiptoed towards the middle of the line between them. Even though they weren’t facing towards her, she didn’t get very far before they both turned. Whether it was her footsteps, though light, on the ground or the metal she carried, she couldn’t be sure, but they discovered her earlier than she’d liked.

The Drudges, the woman on her left and the man on her right, seized all movement. The gravel fell back to the ground. They were staring at her. Since they weren’t attacking, Seraphina kept on walking, never towards them, but to the middle point. They cocked their heads to the side, like curious beasts. They were seeing the features they were looking for and observed with interest. Seraphina reached up and wiper her skin from the blood and mud, revealing her face. Their eyes scanned it, resting on her scar.

Like the Fire Drudge before, they snarled.

Seraphina broke into a run. Before she got to the middle, a boulder the size of Maxwell’s big head struck her and she went down, like an acrobat who’d failed to perform an elaborate jump. She tried to get up, but fell forward again when she stepped on her right foot. Because of the fall, a second boulder missed, going past just over her head by sheer luck. It was heading for her legs.

It seemed that as long as she didn’t attack them, they weren’t trying to kill her, only immobilize her. Keira had mentioned the emperor’s request was first her capture, not death. He wanted her alive for reasons still unknown. But it didn’t matter. She couldn’t get away on one foot. She was a helpless target. Unable to move, she could only watch as they approached her.

Dazed as she was, she saw the Shepherds on either side, get into position to shoot at the Drudges. The metal arrow tips and her defeated state appeared to refocus the Drudges. Shaking her head, forcing herself to clear her vision, she grabbed her bow and knocked an arrow. She forced flames to distract the male Drudge who’d almost reached her, just enough so she could let an arrow loose at the female Drudge. She deflected it with little problem, but with her attention on Seraphina she failed to notice the dozen arrows the Shepherds sent her way. She went down, blood coming out of her mouth, and two arrows protruding from her neck.

The remaining Drudge, after snuffing the flames, was deflecting the Shepherds’ arrows on his side. He raised the ground, shielding himself and Seraphina from the Shepherds on the left and turned to Seraphina. She was tired and beaten. He seemed to know he had her. He kicked her bow away and had the earth cover her hands and legs, keeping her in place. She closed her eyes and tried setting him alight, but all she could manage was burn his sleeves.

Then Seraphina heard a thud.

She forced her eyes open and found the Drudge had fallen forward. His eyes were staring back at her, empty of life. Raine came into view, fresh blood stained her jaws, there were chunks of meat between her teeth. She went to Seraphina and started nuzzling her with her nose. The scent of human flesh and blood was overwhelming.

“Good girl.” Seraphina could no longer keep herself awake and lost consciousness.

----------------------------------------

Maxwell returned to his and Vivienne’s room at the Rocky slopes at midday to find her exactly as he’d left her at the crack of dawn. Asleep, snoring so loud he could hear her before he entered the room. He smiled to himself before he knelt next to the bed. He started rubbing her arm, shaking her gently as he went. On the fourth shake, she groaned and pushed her face further into the pillow.

He chuckled. “You’ve missed breakfast.” She groaned again. “Are you missing lunch too?” She said something, but the pillow muffled the words. “Care to repeat?”

She turned over. “What does Ave think?”

“He says he can feel more stones than the others.” He answered kissing her hand. “Also, there’s some kind of huge gap between two. He’ll tell us when he knows more.”

She nodded yawning. She stretched and the sheet covering her body rolled down, exposing her body to him. He couldn’t help his eyes’ downward journey. When he returned his gaze to her face, she was squinting and pointing at him, head to toe. “Why are you still dressed?”

He shrugged. He had no good answer. She sat up and started pulling at his shirt. He helped her and threw it on the floor before reaching for his head and tugging him onto the bed. With their lips locked, they surrendered themselves to the moment and each other. The loud, persistent knocking on their door didn’t discourage them. They laughed and kept going until they were satisfied.

Neither made a move to get up. On the contrary, they curled against each other and Maxwell pulled the sheets over them. Another knock interrupted their comfortable silence, but they no longer had a reason to ignore it. Vivienne snorted and Maxwell, aware that she wouldn’t get up, did so himself. He wrapped his discarded shirt around his waist and opened the door only to find Beata, her face red as a strawberry, carrying a tray of food for two. “Apologies. Thought you might be hungry.” She said smiling.

“Thanks.” Maxwell said taking the tray. “Was it you earlier? The knocking?”

She shook her head. “Viscount’s people. Viscount Fergus I mean. I sent them off, told them you’d join them later.”

“Appreciate it. Um...” Maxwell trailed off.

Beata blushed even more and looked away. “You better get going.”

“Right. Thanks again for the food.” He said and closed the door before returning to bed. “Guess you won’t be missing lunch after all.”

Vivienne giggled, but quickly reached for some bread and cheese. She took four bites before speaking, mouth still full. “Who needs us?”

Maxwell grabbed a chicken leg and gave it to her. “Fergus. Wilfried and Olivie arrived this morning. With Ave and Umber here, they’ll have to get going soon.” She nodded, biting on the chicken. She kept chewing on that single bit for a long while, her eyes on the tray, but she wasn’t really looking. She wasn’t reading anyone, she was just lost in her own thoughts, but at the same time she didn’t seem to want to tell him. “You can say it, you know.”

Vivienne smiled, the empty stare still there. “And ruin the moment?”

“Didn’t Beata already do that?”

She smiled again, swallowed, ate some more and then laid back down. “You know you should join them, right?”

Maxwell started eating. “I’m staying.”

“Once I get to the Keep, you can’t follow me or he’ll sense you and I lose the element of surprise. What good can you do here? What’s the point?” She asked crossing her arms behind her head.

“We stay together. That’s the point.”

She closed her eyes and smiled. For the first time since they’d met, he wasn’t fond of her smiles. “You can’t hide from a mind reader, Max. Staying here when other are out fighting is killing you. How will you let me go after him?”

He wasn’t liking she was a mind reader either in that moment. “I know what you have to do, I won’t risk him knowing.”

“If you honestly believe that, you’re deluding yourself, but let’s say that you do actually stay behind. What about the others? Can you stand back while they’re fighting? How will you face your sister? If she’s even alive at the end.” She asked. “Your niece?”

He got up and started pacing, shirt still wrapped around his waist. “Really? You’re going there?”

“Your thoughts, not mine alone. Ever since Ave brought news of Chloe, you’re constantly thinking about it.” She said. She got up and went to him. She put her forehead against his back. “You think I want you to leave? That my mind and heart won’t race knowing you’re fighting? That you can die at any moment?”

He turned around and took her in his arms. “Of course not.” He felt her tears, running down her cheeks. Still holding her, he reached within and dragged those teardrops away from her skin, tossing them into the basin across the room. “We said we’d do it together. Until the end.”

She pulled back. “When we thought there was no way to get to Damien but through his people. It’s different now.”

“I know.” He sighed. “I don’t want to leave you, Viv.”

She gave a half smile. “But you have to.”

“But I have to...” He repeated with a heavy heart. He grabbed her chin. “We’ll meet on the other side though, right?” She nodded, reaching up and locking her arms around his neck. He got serious. “You have to restore my honour after all. Any idea how many people ask me every day how I can let you bed me out of wedlock?” He shook his head, keeping a straight face.

She started laughing and pulled his head down to kiss him. “Allow me to demonstrate then.” She grabbed the sleeves of the shirt still wrapped around his waist and dragged him to bed.

After her thorough demonstration, exhaustion overpowered the Viscounts’ call. Sleep took them in its warm embrace. When he awoke, there no light coming from outside and darkness filled the room. Vivienne was awake and she was lightly running her fingers across his chest, barely touching him. He took her fingers in his hands and brought them to his lips. “What are you thinking?”

She slid her head from his chest to his shoulder and looked at him. “Marry me.” He raised an eyebrow. “I’m serious.”

He didn’t say anything at first. Knowing she was reading him, he brought to mind, the night he’d asked her to become his wife. Her reaction had been a wide smile, his favourite, when she’d seen the rings he’d had the jewelers at Briohall make. But it’d disappeared a few short moments afterwards. Her words still rung clear in his memory. Ever since, he’d been using them whenever his motivation was low.

“My love, please don’t mistake my answer. It’s not a no. I want to marry you, settle down, oh dear Elements, you have no idea how much I want that. But we can’t. Not now. Not unless another Aetheral comes to take this burden off my shoulders or he’s dead.” She’d glanced at the rings once more before standing. "We’ve said before we might die in this struggle, but in my case, even my best might not be enough to negate him. I don’t want to leave you like that.”

“I still don’t, but now Lucian’s trained me and I’m confident I can withstand Damien’s power. Sera and Reggie make it work in this chaos, why can’t we?” She said caressing his cheek. “I want to marry you more than the empire scares me, so marry me. Before you go, vow to be mine as I vow to be yours.”

He brought her hand to his lips again. “Took you long enough.”

She laughed and reached up to kiss him.

◊◊◊

At dawn, after they got presentable, they agreed to try and get an audience with the Viscounts, in hopes they were busy preparing their departure. When they went downstairs to the tavern of the Rocky Slopes, Beata blushed when she saw them. Some of the inn workers, preparing for the day to come, would smirk as they passed. "Were we that loud?”

“Apparently.” Vivienne said by his side. She shivered. “It’s weird. Hearing us through their minds...”

Soon after they were out on the streets of Neverfall. They were once again overcrowded, not with people celebrating the wedding of Bailey and Calliope, but with militia. The preparations for the march to Sabaria were nearly over days before. The allies had been waiting for news from the west. Once they got it, in the form of Ave and Umber, and the other seven Bashers, the final preparations began. Last time Maxwell had asked, Fergus had said they’d take no more than five days to complete. Two of them had already passed.

Upon reaching the Main Hall, headquarters for all four allied Viscounts, the guards let them pass and pointed towards the dining room. Inside, they found Fergus, Bailey, Calliope, Clare and the newly arrived Wilfried and Olivie of Wallowdale, laughing and drinking. Even Fergus was indulging in some wine, rather than just the auras of the people present. He was the one to notice them enter. He stood, legs wobbling and arms flaying around like a headless chicken. Maxwell chuckled. “Hoorah! Rejoice my fellows, they’ve come!”

Everyone in the room started laughing uncontrollably, even the servants. All but Vivienne. Maxwell realized his laughter derived not only from his own amusement, but Fergus’s influence. Calliope, knowing her father, went to him and rubbed his shoulders until his laughter, and everyone else’s, died down.

Vivienne slipped her arm around Maxwell’s and dragged him to the lords of Wallowdale, first free allies of the League, and the reason they’d tried talking to Fergus instead of following the council’s order and kill him. “Viscount Wilfried, Viscountess Olivie...” she said and took a quick bow “...allow me to introduce Maxwell, son of Brenton, a roamer for the League for over eleven cycles now.” While he was following Vivienne’s example and bowed, the lords nodded to him. “He’s also a fellow Douser.”

At that, Olivie drew water off her glass and presented it to Maxwell in the form of an elaborate droplet, miniature snowflakes in it. Maxwell mimicked the design with water from the jug across the table and Olivie smiled. “Remarkable control, Viscountess. Have you had any training?”

“Enough with the pleasantries, Max! We’re all friends here.” Fergus yelled, still drunk off his mind. He started flaying his arms around again. “We’re all going to war together.” He sighed. “Some of us will die...” He snorted. “...but the fiend will die with us, I tell you!”

“Okay now Fergus...” Vivienne said approaching him, as Calliope’s touch could only go so far to calm him. “...I think you’ve had enough alcohol for one night, don’t you?” She touched his temples as he nodded and he fell asleep soon after. Wilfried and Olivie sat stunned at the display. “I’ve just sent him to dreamland. He’ll wake up in a few hours with a strong headache after everything he consumed.”

“...and fed off.” Calliope added as she pushed her father’s grey hair to the side.

Olivie shook her head and turned to Maxwell. “Um, my father and I used to practice. Mostly so I can control myself. Now, I practice with our people.”

Maxwell nodded. “Wallowdale is home to many Elementals from what we hear. Most of Earth, no surprise.”

Wilfried chuckled. “Indeed. And many are sculptors. The best statue of my late parents was made by a Basher. I always wondered how she managed to capture them and create it with such remarkable likeness.”

Bailey raised his glass. “Let us hope we see many more across every corner of our land once we are done. To the Shepherds!”

The rest raised their glasses as well. “To the Shepherds!”

Vivienne and Maxwell sat by Clare’s side, the only Viscount who was actually a Shepherd, like them. “You sent for us, I believe?”

“My father.” Calliope said taking a seat next to Bailey. “He wanted your counsel on a matter.”

“That is...?” Maxwell asked.

“On our way here, we stumbled upon this bizarre imperial envoy with the...” Wilfried said and looked around. “...what’re they called again?”

“Drudges, Wil.” Olivie said. “Axel and the Shepherds of our city managed to kill it before it became a true threat, then they captured the imperials that escorted it.”

“You brought them here?” Maxwell asked surprised.

Wilfried and Olivie nodded. Calliope was the one to speak. “Father has them under lock and key. The Wallodale Shepherds who caught them are also there, guarding them.” She turned to Vivienne. “He wants your help with their minds. Says there’s something strange to them that prevents him from really reading them.”

“I have a good idea what it is. I’ll need to check myself to make sure, but it sounds like the Emperor did a similar thing to them that he did to the Drudges.” Vivienne said setting down her glass of wine, untouched. “Max..?”

He knew what she wanted. He cleared his throat. “Hmm, I will join you after all. With Ave’s confirmation he can get Vivienne through, there’s no reason to keep a man of my skills here. We’ve asked common folk to take up arms, I can’t in good conscience stay behind, shy away from the fight.” He looked at Vivienne. “She will kill him, I have no doubt, and then it’s up to the rest of us to regain the land. Many follow him for they think him a deity, endless and undying, but we know better. With all of you standing together, the south’s free. Time to relieve the north.”

“No more fear...” Olivie trailer off.

“Has a nice ring to it, doesn’t it?” Wilfried asked placing an arm around his wife. She nodded, crying.

Bailey stood. “We’ll have plenty of time to discuss what will come next on our way to Sabaria. The sun’s already risen, how about we get a few hours of shut-eye like Fergus?”

The Viscounts nodded and everyone stood to leave. Before they walked out of the room though, there was a light yet prolonged tremour of the earth. Maxwell had been in Neverfall long enough to know that tremour didn’t come from the miner’s work and Ave had said they’d begin digging in the afternoon, once the miners would stop. He looked at Vivienne, figuring she was thinking the same thing. She nodded, to confirm his thoughts.

“Vivienne?” Bailey asked, holding onto Calliope.

“No one in my range.” She replied and looked at Maxwell. “Let’s hope it’s one of ours.”

“Even if...” Clara trailed off until they turned to her. “...it’s coming from our northern troops, for it to reach us, wasn’t that too strong? Doesn’t it mean the fight...”

No one finished the sentence. Vivienne sighed and stopped reading. “Let’s hope...” They bid the Viscounts good morning and were about to leave the Main Hall, when Vivienne pulled him to the side. “Can we stop by Michael and Madam Jean?”

“Lead the way.”

Since they’d become part of Clara’s court, they’d been staying in the Main Hall. During her reading, she’d found they were already awake to prepare for the day. They entered the kitchens and found them talking with the Hall’s cook, but when they saw Vivienne, they cut it short and approached them. “Will you bear witness to our wedding?” Michael and Madam Jean looked between her and Maxwell and smiled, tears formed in their eyes. The little girl they’d raised was trusting them with yet another important moment in her life. They agreed as expected and asked when.

She’d meant then.

Madam Jean took her away, while Michael and Maxwell remained behind. For Maxwell, the following hours went by in a blur. He found a tunic, without bloodstains and holes like his, in his size, took another bath, scrubbing himself clean to the point of redness. Michael gave him a haircut along with a shave and before midday, they were standing in the vine fields.

Then, time seemed to stand still as they were waiting for Vivienne and Madam Jean. The moment he felt her reading his mind, he grinned. Michael was the same. They heard the horses prancing through the fields, with the workers raising their heads as they passed, and looked their way. They were riding side by side, but once Maxwell’s eyes fell on Vivienne, Madam Jean disappeared.

Dressed in white, a simple dress, plain yet in his hungry eyes magnificent, possibly a maid’s garment, she rode his way. The dress was flowing through the air, though no wind blew at the time. Michael’s touch. The horse reached him and Maxwell offered his hand to help her down. She didn’t take it until she’d dismounted, making him chuckle. Neither took their eyes off each other while they were walking to Michael.

They stood in front of him. “Will you exchange rings?”

“Yes.” They both said. Vivienne reached around his neck and unclasped the chain he’d been wearing since the night he’d proposed, more than a cycle prior. She’d told him she would be the once to unclasp it at their wedding. The time had come. She took the rings in her hand, laid hers in his open palm.

Michael started speaking, but Maxwell couldn’t focus on him, only Vivienne. He’d been waiting for this for too long. In his dreams, they’d been surrounded by friends and family and they had no more fighting ahead of them, but still. One thing was the same. His knees trembled as he stood before her and no one else mattered.

Michael nudged them, breaking the spell, and they slipped the bands in each other’s finger, first Vivienne, then him. “Anything you’d like to say?”

Vivienne took his hands and brought his ring finger to her lips. “I vow to end him and I promise to bring you more joy than I do sorrow.”

Maxwell brought her ring finger to his own lips. “Look.” He envisioned a house in the prosper field of the realm of Wallowdale. Where she’d said she wouldn’t mind making a life. Just by the waterfront. He pictured her cooking her favourite recipes, getting a taste off three different pots, like he’d found her doing only one day after Michale and Madam Jean arrived at Neverfall, while he was standing by the kitchen door, grinning like a fool. Then, two pairs of small feet were stepping on his toes, until he picked up the two toddlers, boy and girl, and brought them to Vivienne in his mind’s eye. Before him, the real Vivienne was giggling and crying. “I promise you this. I’ll do everything in my power to give you this. All of it.”