Chapter 7: The Weight of Ruin

“How many monsters are we talking about? And how long do we have?”

The scout, still panting and white-faced, looked at her with a mixture of fear and urgency. “It’s… it’s a sea of them, my lady. Tens of thousands, at minimum. Some have veered off, losing interest, but most are still heading straight for us. We’ll be facing the first wave in half an hour, with the main force arriving less than an hour after that.”

Damn this wretched mess. Lyanna clenched her jaw, fighting to keep the wave of frustration and panic from shattering her composed mask. The beast tide wasn’t supposed to be here, not for weeks. Yet here it was.

A sea of beasts, the largest in years. The cold sweat that broke out on her neck made her shiver. At least there are no Ruin Beasts. A small, bitter mercy. Lyanna’s mind flashed back to her sister’s warning, the memory of Karina’s voice echoing with grim certainty: “The Seers have warned of great bloodshed.” She had laughed it off then, dismissing it as just another one of the seers’ cryptic omens.

The laugh that almost escaped her throat now tasted sour. I should have listened. Karina had seen this coming, somehow. That was why she’d ordered the troops to stay under cover, to hold their positions for another day. But Lyanna had ignored her, too eager to prove herself the strategist, too eager to seize the moment and bask in the glow of victory.

And now we’ll pay the price for my arrogance.

Lyanna sucked in a breath, forcing her mind to steady, her thoughts to clear. She couldn’t afford to crumble. Not now.

“Why now?” she asked aloud, her voice almost drowned by the wind that whipped across the scorched earth. “Beast tides are drawn to bloodshed, but nothing here should have stirred them to this extent.” She began to pace, boots grinding against the ashen terrain, her mind racing. “What was different this time?”

“It wasn’t the Skybreaker, if that’s what you’re thinking,” Edda replied, her gaze following Lyanna’s restless movements.

Lyanna clenched her fists, fury and frustration boiling over. “Then what else could it be, Edda?” Her voice cracked through the ash-stained air, sharp enough to stop a few nearby soldiers mid-march, their heads snapping toward her. They exchanged looks, worry in their eyes. “The orcs used the Skybreaker in battle. The essence from that weapon should have—”

“Skybreakers draw Ruin Beasts, my lady. Not common monsters. The weapon's blast scatters lesser creatures, drives them off in terror. If the Skybreaker were to blame, we’d be dealing with a dozen Ruin Beasts, not this… horde.”

Lyanna’s teeth ground together. “Then what?” she demanded. “What in the gods’ names could have triggered a beast tide of this scale?”

Edda hesitated, her brow furrowing in thought. “There are… possibilities,” she admitted slowly, her voice dropping lower. “None of them are comforting.”

“There are only two things I’ve heard of that could explain it, and neither are good” Edda said, lowering her voice for Lyanna’s ears alone. “The first is if the orcs have forged an alliance with the trolls and abandoned the gods. And the orcs could have the trolls commanding the beasts. But if that's the case, we've never seen the trolls control this many.”

Lyanna frowned, her mind conjuring up the image of the massive troll priestess, chanting their guttural prayers to the Fallen One. “It would explain the timing,” she said slowly, “if they were using the beast tide as a weapon of last resort.”

Edda nodded. “Or,” she continued, “it could be the kingdom’s fault. Sometimes when our court sends too much food through one of the trade corridors to the other kingdoms, it distorts the balance. The scent of it—”

“Draws monsters from miles around,” Lyanna finished for her, a bitter taste in her mouth. “Yes, but even then… they’ve never been this riled.”

Lyanna exhaled, a shaky breath that did little to dispel the crushing sense of dread that threatened to suffocate her.

“We need to get word to the Queen immediately,” she said, her voice regaining some of its former steel. “She needs to know what’s happening here. If the orcs are truly allied with trolls, we’re dealing with something far more dangerous than we anticipated.”

But Edda shook her head. “I can’t, my lady. All of our trusted messengers were dispatched with the dragon eggs we recovered after the last ambush.”

“Then send any dreg-cursed messenger we’ve got left!” she said before catching herself, her face flushing as she realized the venom in her tone and the choice of her words. The nearby soldiers turned away quickly, exchanging furtive glances. Lyanna bit back a curse, forcing her expression back into something resembling dignity. Brilliant work, Lyanna. As if Mother won’t have enough to chastise me for after all of this.

Edda dipped her head and moved away to carry out her orders. Lyanna took a breath, steadying herself, and turned back to the scout. “You’re dismissed,” Lyanna said, more gently this time. “Report back with updates. Constantly.”

The scout nodded, her relief palpable, and hurried off. Lyanna was left standing alone, the weight of command pressing down on her like an iron gauntlet.

Hiding’s out of the question, she thought, panic clawing at the edges of her resolve as she ordered the army to resume the march. There was no point in letting the soldiers gossip and work themselves into a frenzy.

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While hiding had been a viable tactic when faced with the Skybreaker cannons, now the threat of the cannons was gone, and the Queen’s policy was infamously clear on those who fled a beast tide—her dragon personally burned the soldiers who dared to abandon the line.

The reasoning behind it was sound enough—holding the line protected the thousands of helpless families, villages, and towns just behind them. But for Lyanna and her already-battered forces, it felt like a death sentence.

Retreat is impossible. She let that bitter truth settle in, a cold stone in the pit of her stomach. Even if they tried, there was no stronghold or fortified ground close enough to offer a chance of withstanding a tide like this. They’d be overtaken long before they found cover. No, their only choice was to make a stand here, and they had nothing but the ruined Skybreaker platform for defense.

Her eyes swept the desolate landscape, searching for any advantage, any glimmer of hope. The shattered Skybreaker platform loomed in the distance. No, it’s too small to hold my whole army. Not without the mages constructing defenses. But if the mages exhausted their essence setting up barriers, there’d be no time to recover.

With a grimace, she thought of their last recourse: the essence crystals. They could use the supply to refill their essence pools. The cost would be enormous, taking almost all the essence crystals the platform probably held. But it’s that or die.

And they should also sacrifice the remaining crystals as offerings to the gods, praying for some shred of divine favor. All this would mean nothing, though, if they didn’t reach the platform in time.

Lyanna raised her voice, calling her captains closer. “Double time to the Skybreaker platform! All mages are to be ready on my command. We’ll hold there, as best we can.”

Edda returned as the army began to march with renewed urgency. “The messenger’s been sent, my lady,” she reported. “I spoke with the camp aides about the tide. They raised some troubling points. The orc army we fought was notably weak and likely a diversion. Their main force may strike after the beasts have broken us. They could sweep through the villages and then march on the cities.”

Lyanna’s mouth tightened. “There’s nothing we can do about that now. We need to hold this line.” She paused. “Does Alric know?”

“Not as far as I’m aware. But he’s still following us.”

“Good. We’ll need every sword we can get,” Lyanna replied. “Have the camp aides draft a defensive structure for the mages to build around the Skybreaker. And distribute the essence crystals among the mages, with larger shares for the Grandmasters. They both are the most efficient with their essence.”

Edda’s eyes widened. “We promised—”

“The troops will understand. And most of them will be dead soon anyway.”

Edda paused, taking in her commander’s grim determination. For a brief moment, Lyanna thought she saw doubt flicker in her aide’s eyes—only a fool would not question her plan. Plans like hers were how mutinies started, after all.

A part of her hated to waste their remaining crystals on a gamble, but she had no other options. Every instinct screamed at her that this gamble might be their only hope of surviving the tide. And yet, a gnawing doubt remained.

Lyanna ran through the possibilities again, grasping for something she might have overlooked. Could it be something else? she wondered, trying to untangle the knot of half-formed theories and fragmented information in her mind.

Her mind flitted from theory to theory. The orcs, she thought. If they truly allied with trolls, why choose now to unleash this storm upon us? Trolls commanding a beast tide could explain it, but we’ve had no reports, no sightings of troll shamans anywhere nearby. Trolls, despite their raw power and connection to the wild, were notoriously difficult to keep hidden. Someone would have noticed.

And if it wasn’t the trolls…?

Lyanna considered the second possibility, the one Edda had cautiously suggested—a disruption of the delicate balance of resources. A sudden, massive influx of essence crystals, food, or magical artifacts through the trade routes could easily attract hordes of creatures, drawn in like moths to a flickering flame. The Fallen One, in her twisted wisdom, had ensured that each kingdom remained reliant on the others for survival, yet separated them by the treacherous, monster-infested Burnt Seas, making trade a dangerous but vital undertaking.

Each kingdom perpetually struggled to secure essential resources, locked in a cycle of scarcity and desperation. The trolls followed the same strategy, wielding the beast tide as a weapon, just as their goddess had once done. By keeping trade to a minimum, they forced each kingdom to the brink of starvation, some lacking food, others wood, and still others metal.

The thought made her stomach twist. Would the court have taken that kind of risk? Would the Queen herself have sanctioned a shipment so vast it endangered one of her own armies?

Her lips tightened. No. That didn’t seem right either. The Queen was ruthless, yes, but she was also calculating. She wouldn’t have undermined her forces unless she had no choice. And even if she had, why would the monsters be so frenzied?

Lyanna shook her head, frustration mounting. Think. There has to be something else I’m missing.

“Lady Lyanna?” The voice pulled her from her spiraling thoughts. It was Captain Oran, one of her most reliable officers. He approached with a solemn look, armor coated in ash. “The solider’s are nervous. Rumors are flying about a Beast tide.”

Lyanna’s fingers dug into her palm. As her mind raced, she weighed her options. Should she lie, offer false reassurance, or tell the truth and risk a complete collapse of morale? Either choice carried immense risks. “Yes, it’s true,” she said, her voice firm despite the tremor in her heart. “A beast tide is coming. But we have a plan. We’ll make our stand at the Skybreaker platform. Get the soldiers to increase the pace. Every minute counts.”

Captain Oran studied her, his expression unreadable. He was no doubt wondering if he should trust the judgment of someone who was a third his age and currently marching them towards a monstrous horde. But he must have come to the same grim conclusion as her—the platform was their only chance, however slim.

Lyanna watched him stride away, shouting orders, rallying soldiers who looked more like ghosts than warriors, their faces haggard and etched with fear. She could see the fatigue in their eyes, the bone-deep weariness that threatened to consume them, but they kept moving. They had to. There was no other choice.

She swallowed hard, her throat dry. It won’t be enough, a voice whispered, cold and certain. This horde would swallow them whole, and she had led her army straight into its jaws.

Lyanna glanced up at the sky, the roiling ash clouds overhead blocking out the light. What have I done?

Her heart ached with the weight of responsibility. She had always known command was heavy, that leadership meant making impossible choices. But this felt different. This felt like ruin. Like the bloodshed the Seers had spoken of.

For the second time in her life, Lyanna desperately wished that Karina or Pyrope were here to command the army instead of her. But wishing did nothing. She was here, and the ruin was her burden to bear.

The wind carried the scent of ash and dread. And she led her weary, battered army forward, toward whatever fate awaited them.