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The earth shook beneath Elruin's feet, while the elemental magics screamed in her ears. She stumbled at the pain which overwhelmed that of her back, stomach, and arm. Such power went beyond imagination and into insanity. For a moment, she lost control of her magic and her muscles, collapsing to her knees.

The local infrastructure wasn't doing much better than the necromancer. As she struggled to her feet, a nearby building collapsed at the foundation. Six glowing auras that were human beings flicked out of existence in a heartbeat, a dozen wounded, and another dozen trapped in what they had hoped was their sanctuary.

Elruin forced herself to walk, drew upon the power of the fresh dead to restore her magic enough to bring her defenses back up.

Moments later, her shadows were cut away by the sweep of a guisarme and searing hot air. "Die, de-" The woman, clad in heavy armor of gemstone blue, hesitated for a second upon seeing Elruin without the benefit of concealing shadows. "You're a child!"

"Please, let me go," Elruin pleaded. "I need to find Cali."

"No." Her hands tightened on the blade. "Child or not, you've killed too many of us, already."

Elruin sang to her magic, calling up the shadows to protect her, met with the same fate as the last. This woman's magic was air and fire, normally mages of that sort were fragile, which might explain her heavy armor.

Elruin took a step back, then fired off a bolt of energy, and another.

The first, she sidestepped, the other she cut with her weapon.

She's testing my abilities. Elruin recognized the careful tactic; she was being distracted and slowed, contained, while the battle raged around them. "I don't want to fight you."

"I'd ask you to surrender to my custody, promise you fair treatment as a prisoner, but we both know that's not possible." The armored woman's weary voice was a whisper, but one Elruin could hear as if it was next to her. "You've killed too many, too identifiably. Emerit wasn't much older than you. Do you even care about the people who died?"

At this distance, Elruin didn't know if she could hit the woman, and didn't want to waste power on missing time and time again. "We didn't ask you to attack our home." She started walking toward the front of the city, where Cali would be found. If her enemy got closer, then they would fight.

"No, but you serve those who attacked ours." A healthy adult woman required no effort to chase a wounded child, as unhappy as the prospect of executing her was. "You're too wounded to run, too exhausted to fight. Lay down your arms and I promise a quick, painless death." She fought down the bitterness. "It's more mercy than you've shown your victims."

Elruin tapped into her sarite, for the dust storm it could generate. Dirt and debris kicked up, hiding her with something tangible, rather than the ephemeral darkness that was her natural ability.

The woman did nothing but step closer, her weapon pointed at Elruin. Then she whirled, bringing her weapon up where it made the sharp clang of metal striking metal.

Elruin guessed it was an arrow or crossbow bolt, but what was more important was that it put her off her guard, so Elruin fired a pulse of energy at the now distracted enemy. It struck home, some of it even got through her armor, but this was a health and trained mage of no insignificant power, much stronger than her enemies thus far.

"Oof." She twirled back on the necromancer. "I'd accuse you of dishonor, but I am about to murder a child. That you deserve it for your actions notwithstanding."

She moved with shocking speed, for someone in heavy armor. Elruin had thought the metal-clad warriors would be slow, but not this one. Another bolt of death energy was sidestepped, and only slowed the woman's advance.

The swing from the guisarme should have been a decapitating strike, but instead Elruin was treated to the foul smell of sweaty unwashed canine underbelly, and the cackling howl of an enraged beast.

A quick snap, and the weapon broke in two. The mork bolted forward, slamming into the woman and getting a grip on her helmet with his teeth. A burst of flame seared the beast's mouth, burned away its tongue.

Elruin felt the additional energies of the mork, that of undeath and the sonnet of synchronized power that bolstered her magic in this churning sea of magical chaos. She drew both her hands together, and expended what was left of her strength into the chest of the woman who had almost ended her life. Struggling ceased, and both the woman and Elruin dropped.

"Just a little longer," Scratch said. His mork body bled profusely, and its mouth was so mangled that Elruin could understand his words only through the power of Requiem. The mork rested next to Elruin. "There is still life in your body, use it to climb up."

Elruin had to pull on his fur to drag herself to her feet, then struggle her way up on the beast's back. Once his passenger had her grip, Scratch began walking away from the barracks. "Wait. Cali..."

"Lost cause, kid," Scratch said. "My oath was me first, you second, everyone else distant third if ever. She'll have to find her own way. We need out of the city while there's a chance. Even that's pushing our luck."

The sky flickered, the sky replaced by the warped dome of a human face. Lord Garit, his formerly handsome now face bloodied and wounded, was visible to the city from above. "People of Arila, I am Lord Garit. On my mother's behalf, I order you to lay down your arms."

"Merat! Coward!" Scratch didn't care so much about the cowardice, only that it was inconvenient for him and his half-formed plans to escape with the child necromancer that anchored him to sanity.

"The shelter," Elruin mumbled. Gripping the coarse, wiry fur of the mork was the most effort she could exert at the moment. "It's got nonviolence magic. They can't hurt us, not there."

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"Why don't you ask me to walk into a hell made of flaming dung? At least then I can laugh at everyone else trapped with me." Complaint vocalized, the mork began a swift retreat to the poor side of town, a trail of blood behind it.

Lord Garit continued his surrender speech. "The battle has been lost. I beseech you, do not add to the tragedy by continuing a hopeless resistance."

Only a handful of people had the power to keep up with a mork at full run, and those had exhausted themselves fighting other, more immediate, threats. Or were still dealing with the holdouts who refused to surrender. A wounded mork was something to be dealt with later.

Half-aware, Elruin watched the heart of the mork dying a slow death to injury and the creep of taint through its bones. It accelerated faster in the mork than it had in the man from before. She would have to consider what caused this when she wasn't so tired.

"Enge's Guard, I have given my Oathbond, as has Lady Juna and Duchess Erta, that there will be peace. Our new ruler, King Claron, has given his Oathbond that the prisoners of war will be treated well, and peacefully released."

Soon, they were at the shelter, screams of fear and confusion elicited by those of the poor district who were thus far spared much of the violence. Perhaps the only upside of having no wealth, no power, and no strategic value: there was no need for the invaders to subjugate them.

Suggested Listening

The mork stopped right upon passing through the barricade, then backed away and collapsed on the less restrictive side. "Go, I'm fine here." The worst case, where Scratch was concerned, was the death of a body he cared nothing for. He'd long ago lost count of how many bodies he'd destroyed over the centuries.

Elruin slid down the beast's back, miserable about the need to walk, but happy to get away from the stench of unwashed coyote-monster.

Above them, the face changed, to that of Claron. He held up his hand, showing the magical ink of the official seal of Arila. To those educated on the subject, they knew it should include the magical signature of a voluntary Oathbond. Some closer to the action might also note the lack of blemish and scar on his body, save that of the eye socket and the artifact that it held.

"I have sworn to protect the citizens of Arila. My citizens. Know that you are all under my protection, and my oath to do what is best for all of you. Those who have fought have done so honorably. Surrender, accept your peacebonds, and you will not be punished for your resistance to this moment. Continue to resist, and know the fate of all murderers and traitors."

A handful of the shelter residents approached her, once it became clear the half-dead mork would be staying behind on the dirt path. Some eyed it, considering that it was more food than most of them had ever seen at one time, then decided that they weren't that hungry.

Carried by two girls a little older than her, Elruin was brought near the central pillar.

Grandmother gasped when she saw the girl. "We don't have a healer, but we'll do what we can."

They laid Elruin face-down on a table, then went through a long, slow process of pulling shards of metal from her back. "I don't know how you survived those wounds. Erra, get the salve. If we can hold out long enough, maybe a healer will get to us." Grandmother hated herself for lying, but she did so for the sake of all the children here, including the one who might bleed to death on a table.

Erra arrived soon, carrying a brackish tarlike substance made mostly of pine sap.

"I know, this stuff feels disgusting, but it will help you," Erra said. Using a wood spoon, she began the slow, careful process of coating the child's back to seal all the wounds she suffered in her battles. "Relax, you're safe now."

"Thank you." Elruin mumbled, but it wasn't her she was worried about. She wondered where Cali was, if she was alright, and hoped that Lemia would forgive her for going to save her other friend instead.

Shouting interrupted Elruin's treatment, which had just moved to her stomach.

A man, Lord Claron, marched into the field of peace, straight for the girl. In person, he seemed both more and less than he had been in the sky-illusion. He was tall, muscular, and reminded Elruin all too much of Father in spite of having almost the opposite hair and beard color. "You are Elruin. You will come with me."

Elruin looked him in the eye, defiant; he was the man who kept her from Cali and hurt so many. "Merat ne."

"That was not a request, child." In here, he could not directly threaten, but he was imposing and powerful. "Emperor Enge himself demands you to be taken before his holy presence and sacrificed."

"But why?" Elruin gasped with everyone else. Did Enge know about Scratch, or Clackybones? She knew others thought the undead were bad, but she didn't think she'd done anything so wrong that a god would seek her death. "You have an Oathbond to serve all citizens of Arila."

"Because that is what Enge demands," Claron stated. "I did not ask for particulars. I would throw down my life if it means his happiness, as would all true citizens of the empire. Enge's will is Arila, and all who live here. Show your devotion to your lord, come willingly, and accept your fate with the joy that all should feel in the name of serving their god."

"I don't believe you!" Elruin began to tap into the power of the shelter, or the power trapped beneath it. She couldn't use it as a weapon, but she could make herself look intimidating.

"Then I see now why Enge demands your death," Claron drew his sword. "You are a traitor and a heretic before our god." His Oathbond pulsed, displeased with him violating his promise to serve the interests of Arila, but it settled itself in moments. Claron was a holy warrior, doing as Enge instructed, and he believed that serving his god was serving Arila, its citizens, and all other cities and good people of the empire.

That settled, he made a handful of mental calculations as he considered his next move. Severing the magic which forced peace upon this place would be difficult, but not impossible with the powers his god granted him. Taking the child would require little effort after, even if she wasn't wounded.

The roiling necromantic power that would be unleashed in breaking the pillar, however, would kill hundreds before it could be plugged. More likely than not, the girl he was meant to take alive would not survive. He could not risk her death, but he could take her measure without provoking the peace of their shelter.

She was tough, an earth mage and a decent one at that. "All those who hide here, know that you may make your choice. In five minutes my archers will pelt this shelter with arrows, flee from this place or die."

This Elruin would survive, so long as he specified to use only wooden practice arrows. Everyone else would have to flee from the pillar.

"Enge would never kill a child!" Erra stepped in front of the young necromancer, shaking in rage with tears running down her face. "You don't serve our lord! You serve a fake, an impostor, a monster that murders children!"

The young woman punched Claron, an act that was possible only because she knew she had no ability to harm him. She could hit him until her hands were nothing but bloodied stumps, and it would not cause a bruise on his skin, let alone when he was in his armor.

"Then you die as-"

In that moment, Lyra appeared from nowhere, standing next to Erra. Devout, brave, willing to die for what she believed was right, and who had lived a life of helping others. The dryad found her new person, and woe to any who would threaten her.

Claron hesitated, reassessed his calculations. To order his men to fire upon Lyra's pet would be to order a suicide attack. Only he possessed the strength to fight that killing machine. With him wounded, and the magic of the tower, he knew he would lose the rematch.

"Very well." He stepped back, then projected his voice to the crowd. "Know that this is the traitor's prison! Those who leave now are free to go, those who remain commit the greatest of all sins! Treason against our God and Emperor! All who provide succor, aid that treason. Those that remain, can stay here until they starve!"

Claron walked away, while his men remained behind setting up barricades. It may have been the first time in history that a siege began after the city was taken, but this was the will of their king, and they would obey for the sake of the future they dreamed of.