“There must be a limit to how many times the Chaos Marchionesses could keep this up,” Yuriko muttered.

Eli’Theria had returned to the Silver Tiger and the fires of battle had somewhat died down. It couldn’t stop completely otherwise the Chaos dwellers could build up their defenses further. The Planar Suppression Formation kept the pressure up on the enemy, not allowing them to retreat into their fortress. The Formation, should it be brought up against the Fysalli’s Veil, would tear it apart. Not quickly, mind, but certainly faster than bombarding it from outside.

“Not necessarily,” Sadeen said as both of them alighted from El’Theria. Smoke drifted from parts of the Colossus’ armour where the metal had been heated by both Yuriko’s Anima and Radiant energy as well as the effort to keep the Chaos at bay. “The trio of Marchionesses are unusual. Not many Chaos Courts would share power like that. Actually, I’m curious about why they chose to ally with the Telurian instead. By all rights, the two have little in common.”

“Do you think it matters?” Yuriko asked. “Knowing why they’re working together, I mean.”

“Of course it does.” Sadeen chuckled. “Knowing people’s reasoning and thought processes is the key to knowing how they’ll act. And how our Mien can more efficiently control them.”

“Do you mean you…” Yuriko started to say, but Mum cut her off.

“Yes. You can let the Mien work passively, or you can take active control. It has its own advantages and disadvantages.” She hummed. “Though I think yours works more efficiently on its own than you trying to control it.” Then she grinned. “Based on your personality and predilections anyway, hie hie!”

Ignoring the teasing, Yuriko huffed and circled around Eli’Theria. She laid a palm against the Colossus’ knee and communicated with her animating spirit.

‘Thank you,’ Yuriko said. ‘It was a long fight, but well fought.’

‘It’s nothing,’ Eli’Theria responded easily. ‘One day isn’t long. We’ve fought for days, weeks, and even Lunar cycles at a time. Before. Back when the Siderious was truly alive.’

‘Oh, tell me about it?’

‘Hmmm, another time, perhaps.’

‘Ah. Then rest well,’ Yuriko sent back.

When she came to, Sadeen had already gone. She absently noticed her Mum leaving a few moments into Yuriko’s communication, but she might have spent more time communing with Eli’Theria than she expected. She did get a sense of happiness from the Colossus, no doubt being able to fulfil her purpose after so long was exhilarating.

Still, Yuriko’s mind was worn down. Her body and her Anima ached from the forced refinement. She trudged towards her quarters and was somewhat startled to find it empty. Neither Gwendith nor Desire was there. Yuriko debated whether to go look for them, but instead chose to take a nice long bath. Afterwards, she sent a messenger crane to the mess hall to bring some food over to her room then sank into a meditative trance.

What happened over the past day flowed through her mind. Fighting as a Colossus Core Pilot was different from what she imagined. Having two pilots share the same war machine, trading off control every time they felt fatigued was a strange experience. She’d never had the chance to rest in the middle of a battle before, yet that was what happened. Whenever she ran out of Radiant energy, or when she’d fought for an hour, Mum would take over.

There was the choice to act simultaneously, of course, and that had happened during the more intense parts of the fight. But with Eli’Theria, very few things could actually harm them, considering her enormous range.

Then again, she suspected that when they went out again, they would be asked to strike at the ritual casters. They’d been instrumental in the Chaos dweller forces’ longevity after all, and they were always at the back of the pack. There was no way to outflank them, however, since they had their backs to the Fysalli. The only way to attack them from the rear was to go through the Waypoint, and by then, it would be better to bring that thing down instead.

Unless the trio could turn back time and restore a broken Fysalli? Was that what they did? Having a sobriquet like Mistress of the Past indicated that they might, but the flow of time always moved forward, never back. Once moments passed, there was no going back to change it. It was something that was part of Damien’s knowledge, and she felt that he and the other Ancients back then might have tried to go back in time… but there was also the sense that nothing worked.

The closest we came was looking at the past. Damien commented, finally rousing to wakefulness. Even then, it took a major Shaping and specific Ennoias.

‘Awake at last, huh,’ Yuriko muttered. ‘I felt you stir while piloting Eli’Theria.’

If you wanted your mother to hear me, then I could have spoken. Not that I had much to say.

Yuriko nodded. It was as she had suspected. Her thoughts returned to the war and the conundrum of the three Marchionesses. How…?

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Damien remained silent for a long moment, then said, You need more violence.

Yuriko rolled her eyes. There was a knock on her door, and when she used her Anima to open it, revealed one of the stewards with a silver tray containing her dinner. The man bowed as he put the food on the side table, and bowed on his way out.

After her meal, Yuriko did her evening ablutions, though she wasn’t sure if it was evening, then settled down to sleep. Before she drifted off, she wondered if Mum and Da were resting or if they were making the mattress squeak again.

___________

Heron had never been to the Chaos Sea, and he found the experience quite unsettling, though it wasn’t as strange and unwelcoming as he expected. He suspected it was the fact that he was now an Ancient in training, rather than a warrior on the Imperial Path. His Anima reacted well to the Chaos, and the few times he slipped into the open deck, his condensed aura protected him well enough. It also damaged his Anima, but that had actually been his goal.

As soon as they left Irvalla, his Anima growth had soared. And now, it was on the verge of reaching forty inches. He was at the threshold of becoming Actualised. Unfortunately, he had no idea how to increase his Animus reserves to a thousand lumens. Or, rather, he had no idea how to do it safely.

He had little skill in runescript weaving and had little hope to follow in Yuriko’s footsteps. At least the fact that he already touched on an Ennoia was another off the checklist. It was just the Animus reserves and the final inch of Anima reach left.

There was also that uncomfortable conversation he had with his father. When he learned that Heron had abandoned his Heritage.

At first, Balliol had been heaping praise upon praise on his son, but that had frozen into an uncomfortable silence when he investigated the state of Heron’s inlays or lack thereof.

“Why?” A simple word yet laden with so much weight.

“Power. And a chance,” Heron had murmured.

The corner of Balliol’s eyes twitched, then the old man sighed. “So be it. I trust you haven’t forgotten the lessons I’ve taught you?”

“Uh…”

“Hmmm, then let’s find out.”

Yuriko’s training had been difficult. Bone breaking and muscle tearing. But Balliol’s scathing critiques tore him to the bone, ground it out to dust, and then put together again only to be forced to do a second round.

The old man had advanced to Knight-Captain and was firmly just beyond Heron’s capabilities, even using Ancient techniques. He and the others had gone through the body tempering within Siderious and their physiques were closely matched. That was to Heron’s advantage though, since he was two levels below his father. Eventually, he’d catch up.

“You aren’t a brute. Don’t rely only on your strength. We Muryhs are masters of air. Use it. Learn the winds and you can reach anything,” Balliol growled, almost word for word after every training session. Thankfully, with the naval battle, the old man had been too busy to train Heron now.

Heron didn’t intend to sit this battle out. But on the Silver Tiger, he was a guest, not a crew member, nor even a marine. The answer to that dilemma had been provided by Yuriko’s aunt, who had also been an instructor in Sharom. Kiyo Mishala Alfein.

He arrived at the armoury after the muster. The fight had been going on for days now. The troops had been whittling down the Chaos dwellers’ forces only for the opposing enemy leadership to use their fell ritual to bring the dead back.

Patterns had emerged, however, and the sharp-eyed Imperials had found discrepancies. Like the fact that there were fewer and fewer squidships every cycle. By about a hundred or so, every time. So theoretically, it should take roughly thirty days before the Chaos dwellers ran out of troops.

Except for the fact that some reinforcements emerged from the Fysalli. Those were greener troops, however, more easily slain. Still, Heron thought the timeline expanded to a Season or more, which was really unacceptable.

The only path Heron figured out was to punch through the enemy screen and kill off the ritual casters. And how would they do that with thousands of squidships, hundreds of thousands of nameless, as well as nearly a hundred proper Chaos Lords?

The fleet had suffered attrition too, but inexplicably, they received reinforcements every few days. A squad of converted merchant ships here, a couple of destroyers there. It didn’t bring them up to full strength, or at least what passed for it when the Silver Tiger arrived in the fight, but it kept them in good shape anyway.

Now, on the fifth day of the siege, he decided that training in the gym, or briefly exposing himself to the raw Chaos wasn’t enough. He could feel the call to battle, and he wasn’t sure if it was his instincts or those he inherited from being Yuriko’s squire. His beloved really loved a challenge and what could be better than an actual battlefield filled with warriors at her level or higher? And to keep up, he would have to take risks. If he couldn’t…well, he couldn’t stand to just watch her go farther and farther away.

Already, he wondered what life would be like after this crisis was over. He had little doubt that she would survive, and hopefully, he and his family would, too. The Empire was just that strong, and even if it failed, why, they were on a luxury yacht that was as powerful as a battleship. The Mishalas were ridiculously rich, and Yuriko’s mum was one of their leaders.

Well, if he wanted Virgil Davar’s acknowledgement, he would have to prove himself in battle.

“You’re here. Good,” Kiyo Alfein said with a cheeky smile. The cat-eyed woman preened as she led Heron to one of the lockers. “A flying disc is the smallest transport unit we have. It’s quite experimental, but it should allow you to fight as you are in the Chaos Sea, without having to resort to a bigger transport. You aren’t a Knight, yet, there’s really no reason to do this.”

Heron shook his head. “Yuri could do it before.”

“And she was in grave danger the entire time,” Kiyo insisted.

“Yes, but I have this armour.” He tapped his chest plate. The Light Infantry Armour from Siderious also insulated him from the Chaos Sea, though his Anima expansion would be exposed. Keeping it condensed over the armour doubled his protection and gave his Anima the chance to strengthen too.

“Very well.” Kiyo sighed as she opened the locker to reveal a metal triangle. “Infuse your Animus into this so I can synchronise it.”

There was a finger scanner on the edge of the wide part, made out of jade. Heron put in a couple of lumens and runescript lines lit up. Kiyo fiddled with a crystal screen, and once it beeped, she said, “Well then. Make sure you come back alive. Don’t make my niece cry.”

“I won’t,” Heron muttered, his ears reddening slightly. Did all of them know? One time, he ran into Yuriko’s cousin, who gave him a top to toe scan, pursed her lips and muttered, “Owned.”

Kiyo grinned and nudged him towards the opposite doorway. “Go get ‘em.”