The human had no memory of exiting his truck, just the dizzying confusion of the crash. The next thing that he could remember was sitting on the side of the road, his whole body hurting, his head even more so, but thankfully showing no obvious signs of serious injury. The seat belt hadn't done much good, being old and just a little bit too loose, but it did prevent him from going all the way through the windshield, which was something, right? He had no idea what had happened, beyond the basic premise: he was driving, he crashed into something, and now he was no longer driving.

The 'something' was the core issue here, both good and bad. On one hand, it was good that he didn't appear to hit another car, or worse, a pedestrian. Nobody was hurt, and thus there was nobody to potentially sue for injuries or damages. Even financial concerns aside, it was a tremendous relief that there was nobody to be harmed, much less killed, but this still created the other non-trivial problem: there was just nothing there. It would be difficult enough to explain to his boss how he had totaled the truck by crashing it into something. How on earth was he supposed to explain that he had totaled the truck, crashing it into nothing?

<3~ <3~ <3~

There was no real way to describe the noise which followed. To Jerin, it sounded like the end of the world, a terrible orchestra of screeching, grinding, crunching, falling metal and once it finally settled down, ending with a rhythmic metallic clicking and the drippings of liquid. She opened her eyes, head still ringing, barely able to tell down from up, but eventually deduced that up was most likely the opposite of where her feet were, and looked to that direction. At first she had thought that she was somehow back in the city, but on closer examination, no, it was much different. There were certain familiar features, sure, but unlike at home, it wasn't rusted through, and although it was clearly heavily damaged, the network of plates and pipes and mechanisms above were far more dense, whereas even before the city hard been attacked, so many of the older components had simply fallen away with age. She looked to her left, and hardly any distance away a warped rubber tire sat at rest, black streaks setting a trail behind it, which would have run right over her had she been just a little closer to the side of the road. A dark fluid flowed from some ruined bit of tubing just behind her, staining the already dark ground and forming a thick, fowl smelling puddle.

She stepped out in front of the wreck slowly, not only for the sake of caution, but that also happened to be the only speed which her battered and exhausted body was capable of at the moment. She, of course, knew very little about the vehicles that the Makers used for travel, beyond that they moved fast, were quite loud, were extremely dangerous, and looked very shiny. Even she, however, could tell that it was in pretty bad shape, looking fairly normal to one one side, with the other heavily crumpled in. Over her shoulder, on the other side of the flats, one of the Makers sat, a cloth pressed to his head, likely nursing the injury caused by the not so coincidentally human head shaped crack pattern in the glass above the wheels.

Up ahead of the vehicle, thrown clear from the road, was the crumpled gray heap of the dark lord, breathing heavily, but otherwise lying still. She rushed over, hopping onto the grass, climbing up onto its body.

"Hey, are you okay? Here, let me heal your wounds... ohm... ohm... ohm..." Jerin said, pressing her palms out against the warm short fur, closing her eyes.

"Why-" the dark lord croaked, looking to her with one silver eye, the other swollen shut.

"Why am I helping you, even though you attacked our city and tried to kill us?" Jerin asked.

"No," Fury said, voice sounding a little stronger, but nonetheless very pained and very, very tired. "I'm wondering why you think you have healing powers."

"I'm helping you because even though you're a dark lord, you're still a living creature, and I don't like to see anyone hurt." she said, with absolutely no hint of irony, despite the fact that her entire mission thus far has been to cause hurt, if not death to her enemy.

"Jerin! Are you okay?" Her brother called, running up to her, Mathias close behind, Rowan taking up the rear by a considerable distance.

The dark lord Fury groaned and shoved the mouse standing atop him away with a push of the paw. "Get off of me." he grumbled. "I need a nap."

"You know..." Mathias said, having witnessed the entire spectacle from above. "You really shouldn't sleep after getting a bad head injury."

"Just... shut up!" the large creature growled, but the growl could hardly sound less menacing, as the cat unsteadily rose to his feet. The dark lord clearly had no fight left in him at this point, and began to limp away.

"Don't forget, you promised not to attack the city again!" Jerin called after it.

"Yeah, yeah." it said in a dismissive voice before stepping back through the car yard's gate, vanishing from their view.

"Huh," Jerin said. "I hope he'll be okay."

"I don't." Aaron said plainly. They all, including Rowan who had finally caught up, looked to him. "What? He wrecked our city! He tried to kill us! I seriously hope he dies!"

The other three looked away. They couldn't really deny the logic of it, but still, it just felt like an inappropriate thing to say.

"Anyways..." Jerin said, breaking the silence. "Is everyone okay?"

"A little bit sore, but otherwise fine." Rowan nodded, looking down to his thin paws. "Thankfully I had these bracers upon my wrists. Otherwise, I may have been seriously hurt!"

Aaron shook his head. He had no idea what the old mouse was made of, and by all rights, the sorcerer should have had every bone in his body broken from that impact. He was glad the old man was unharmed, of course, but it just seemed unfair, somehow.

"Never better," Mathias smiled, even though his paws were pretty badly scraped up, and his armor had seen considerably better days, which says a lot seeing as how he had just gotten it today.

"Yeah, I guess I'm alright." Aaron said. He considered asking his sister the same question, but he knew that she would just insist that she was fine, even though one look at her could tell you otherwise. Still, she was strong enough to stand and walk, which, all things considered, was the best outcome that he could have hoped for.

There was a faint buzzing in the air, and the four all turned to look towards it. Dondorion circled around them, several other flies in tow.

"Nice timing, Jerk." Mathias grumbled. The fly let out a dejected buzz, as the others floated away. The dark furred mouse tried to frown, but couldn't manage it for long. "Oh, who am I kidding... I can't stay mad at you!" he smiled, giving the fly a nice, big hug. The fly didn't flee in fear before, of course. It didn't feel fear anymore. While drinking from the waters of the low road might have been fatal to all non mice, it seemed that biting that little bit of the re-animated corpse was enough to not only spread the undead affliction, but create a version of it which held no fear of sunlight. Dondorion was now truly immortal, a bit of information which would be incredibly valuable, to both mouse and Maker alike. It is also one of the many facts of this world which nobody else would ever discover.

The trip back to retrieve Jerin's sword was an awkward one, Mathias making every effort to rally the troops, and convince them they should be proud of their victory against impossible odds, Rowan seemingly deep in thought, and both Jerin and her brother essentially still shell-shocked, not really able to think or feel anything at the moment. They all reached the circle at the center of the yard where the metal blade still sat, still almost entirely buried within the earth. Fury was nowhere to be seen, apparently having picked a different spot to lie down, or perhaps more accurately, collapse onto.

The young mouse girl was just a few steps away from her precious sword when she froze in place, the others similarly stopping behind her. Something was wrong. There was an odd chill to the air, and although the gradually setting sun still shined, a faint shadow with no clear source was cast over everything. It darkened dramatically the further one looked beyond the sword, convalescing into mass of shade which transitioned into pure darkness, taking on the form of angular features and pointed ears, the cloud of the lower body shaping into four thin legs and a long tail, which forced the weeds and grass poking through the debris scattered plain to wither and die away with the faintest touch.

The black face bore a sinister grin as it opened its eyes, engulfing everything in a terrifying green glow.

Aaron, Rowan and Mathias all froze in place, watching with shock. Jerin did the same, but only for a moment before gritting her teeth and rushing forward, effortlessly pulling her blade from the ground as she did. Still wearing the tattered metal strip on her arm which was all that remained of the shield her parents had given her, she took the sword in both hands, the blade of it sliding across the earth the earth behind her feet. The young mouse leapt into the air, and struck at her hated foe.

She didn't end up hitting the dark lord known as Midnight, however. instead the sword collided with a formerly invisible wall, now revealing itself as a sort of electrified green pentagram which sent fingers of electricity down the blade, coursing through her body before throwing her back down to the ground towards the allies who now rushed to her aid.

"Now, now..." the black feline said with a heavy purr. "Is that any way to say 'hello' after all this time?"

"Midnight!" Jerin panted, rising unsteadily to her feet. "You're going to pay for what you've done!"

"What, you mean your tail?" it said in a calm, masculine voice. "I rather like the new one. in fact, I like it so much, I'm thinking that you'd look a lot better with some more knitted accessories. Maybe and arm or a leg?" it mused, before letting out a throaty growl between the fangs, which reflected the harsh green of the monsters gaze. "How about a yarn head?"

Jerin huffed and rolled her eyes. "If I didn't have a real head, I'd die, stupid!"

The dark lord gave her a few moments to figure it out, before deciding that that was never going to happen. "Yeah, I guess I didn't think that through." it said, with a sarcastic sigh.

"Quit hiding behind that-that barrier thing, and fight!" She shouted at it, sword raised to point towards the black cat..

"Really?" It chuckled. "You seriously think that you can fight me with that?"

"Huh?" she said, looking down at the sword. The tip of it was nearly struck flat, the length visibly bent. Beyond that, the metal looked dull, dull beyond the shade around the creature, as though that little glow which it held within it all this time had faded away. "No... this... this can't be." Jerin said, in a weak voice, falling to her knees.

"You really should take better care of your toys. It would take no effort at all for me to destroy every one of you, right where you stand, but where would be the fun in that?" It smirked,, green eyes focused on Jerin. "You are all going to die, but it will be at a place and time of my choosing. Consider the time you have left to be a gift from me to you. Enjoy it while you still can."

The sleek black creature lost its cohesion, shrinking once more into a small black ball, which flew away, deeper into the car yards.

"Wait! Come back here!" Jerin growled, rising to her feet, charging after him, before the large hand of her brother gripped her upper arm. "What are you doing?" she said to the sibling, "We can't let him get away!"

"We're in no condition to fight right now." Aaron told her.

"Speak for yourself!"

"Okay, fine! I'm in no condition to fight right now! And neither are the others!" He shouted at her, which seemed to bring her to her senses. She fell back into a seated position, staring out at the now empty space which dark lord had occupied just moments before

"We'd better get back to town." Mathias said. "He said so himself: we'll meet him again. There's no rush, and we need to make sure we're at 100% if we plan to take that monster on."

"Should we even be taking that monster on?" Aaron asked.

The former archer shrugged. "I don't think we have much of a choice. It knows who we are and where to find us. We could always run away, I guess, but I imagine that would just put the city in danger."

Mathias expected Jerin to speak up at the idea of running away, to dramatically condemn it, but instead she sat silently, her eyes returned to her warped metal blade.

"Rowan, tell me," Aaron turned, taking the old mouse by the shoulders. "This Midnight creature... is it as strong as the dark lord that we just fought?"

"I-I do not know. Frightfully little information exists about him. I have seen him for but a moment, and just what I have witnessed could dramatically expand the file on the dark lord, yet it still tells us virtually nothing." Rowan said.

"It knew that we defeated Fury, but was still confident that it can beat us. It doesn't even consider us a little bit of a threat." Mathias shook his head. "We'll have to assume that it's at least pretty close. Maybe even stronger." he paused before forcing a smile. "But hey, why are by down about it? Sure, it was touch and go for a while there, but in the end, we won! We all survived, and I don't need to tell anyone of you that had things gone even a little bit differently, that might not have been the case." He turned to Jerin. "Sure, Midnight got away, but who cares? Now you know he's still around, and we don't have to hunt around for him. I don't think he's the type to rampage through the city, either. He's going to want some fancy arena set up to do battle in, and we'll make sure we're ready for him."

Jerin gave the faintest hint of a nod in response, but didn't cast so much as a single eye in his direction.

"As for your sword, the king said they had blacksmiths who could work with metal. I'm sure they can fix it." Mathias said.

She finally looked up at him, expression a little hopeful, but still very much tired. "Are you sure? The king said that they can't make anything like this yet."

"I don't see why they couldn't. It's not like they need to make a new one from scratch. They just have to straighten it out, and re-sharpen the edge. It might not be in any shape to fight with right now, but it doesn't look too badly damaged. I'll bet it'll be good as new in no time!"

"Yeah. Yeah, I'm sure you're right." she said, a faint smile appearing on her mouth, even if it didn't quite reach her eyes.

His sister wasn't well. Aaron didn't need to be a doctor to tell that. Rowan had given her a brief examination which thankfully confirmed she had no broken bones, sprained limbs or clear signs of internal injury, and all four of them drank a healing drought, the sweet taste of which doing more to raise spirits than health. This was to be expected, of course, the potions having no magical or medicinal properties, depending entirely upon the placebo effect, which often worked surprisingly well. Sure, she was still basically a walking bruise, but the same could be said for all of them. His sister was assuredly hurting all over, but it wasn't the first time, and her single-minded nature made her quite good at ignoring pain, so long as there was something, anything else to focus upon.

It wasn't simply pain, even though that would have been entirely understandable. It wasn't even worry or fear, which would have been just as reasonable.

It was all because of that damned sword.

Aaron didn't know if it had any actual magic to it, and if he had to make a call one way or the other, he would guess that it didn't, even if he was somewhat less certain these days than he had been when the journey first began. Still, it was unquestionable that the sword made Jerin stronger, whether this was due to some manner of divine power, or entirely in her head. Regardless, the result was pretty much the same. Without that source of power, she was feeling her wounds, making the long trek back to the city extra exhausting, the weight of the journey bearing down upon her heavily.

He wasn't the only one who could see this, of course. She looked older, and not in a mature sense, but weathered by time, beaten down, stepping even more slowly than Rowan, which said a lot. The worst part of it was that he didn't know how to help her. He knew better than to even try convincing her that the sword was just a chunk of metal, and that she didn't need it. Even if that were true, the damage to her weapon wasn't really the cause of all of this, it was just one too many things stacked on top of one another, which caused the pile to inevitably tip.

The only real option was to return to the castle, and hope that the king would agree to help. Aaron, of course, didn't trust the small king, but then again he rarely trusted any sort of authority figure. Still, his sister seemed to believe in the clearly insecure leader. It's wasn't as though they had much of a choice, anyways. If they wanted any hope of surviving the upcoming battle, they would all need to be at their very best.

The coming battle was one that he tried to avoid thinking about. They were clearly outclassed, and not just by a little bit. It was pure, dumb luck which carried them through the two battles with the dark lords, and even if Midnight proved to somehow be considerably weaker than either Seraphim or Fury, they were still in way over their heads. One problem at a time, anyways. As much as he hated to admit it, Mathias was ultimately right. They were all alive, when they had absolutely no right to be. They even had extra experience, and to some extent, knew what to expect. They'd already accomplished the impossible twice before, so was it really that unfeasible they could manage it one more time?

Ensure your favorite authors get the support they deserve. Read this novel on the original website.

It was true. Things weren't so bad. They weren't so good, either, but they weren't that bad. It was difficult to believe that, when he looked at his sister, however, shuffling forward, looking down but seeming to see nothing.

The voyage through the tunnel was a long and slow one. Frequent breaks were required, especially by Jerin, who would normally have been the one leading the pack. On a few occasions Aaron had offered to carry her upon his back, but she responded with a glare, which may have been intended to look defiant, but there was more than a hint of embarrassment behind it. Each time she prayed that he would not ask again, as she feared she just might give in. At this moment, all that she felt that she had left was the ability to keep putting one foot in front of the other, and the prospect of giving that up had terrified her. Her body trembled as she recalled those massive, cold, soulless eyes upon her, first silver, then bright green. All efforts at reassuring and encouraging thoughts died with the memories of that unbridled primal terror she had felt when she first ran from the battlefield.

The sun had completely set by the time they had finally reached the city. Even in the gloom, piles of rubble and damaged structures, remnants of the earlier attack were still quite prominent.

"It's getting late." Aaron said. "We should handle this in the morning."

"No, we can't." Jerin said in a soft, wavering voice. "We need to do it right now. Midnight is going to come after us, and it might be soon. I don't know much about how he thinks, but I'll bet he's not the patient type. We need to be ready as soon as possible."

Those were the most words Jerin had spoken since the party had left the car yards.

"We need to get some rest." Her brother said, just barely stopping himself from saying 'you', which he knew for sure wouldn't go over well. It wasn't as though the statement would have been accurate, either. Maybe she looked to be in the worst shape of all of the group, but each and every one of them were visibly exhausted.

Much to his surprise, she didn't dispute that fact. "Yeah, and we will, but we've got get this started right away. I don't know how these royal metal-workers work, but if we're lucky, they might be able to finish the repairs to my sword by tomorrow morning."

She seemed to be looking weaker by the minute, and while he didn't entirely approve of her thinking, it was senseless to waste time arguing. This would at least be a load off of her mind, if nothing else, he figured.

The city was particularly dark at night, even with the regular torches and braziers lit. None of these were particularly large, so as to not draw outside attention to the city, but enough to make walking the streets not entirely hazardous. The four regularly had to climb over tattered bits of metal and crumbled stone on their way to the town center which lead directly to the palace grounds. The city center wasn't empty, however. Mice of all ages stood within it, many of which were now homeless, softly whispering to one another at the party's approach, watching them with wide, nervous eyes.

The four adventurers shrank somewhat under the gaze of the crowd, the whispers and mutterings all dying out.

"Go ahead and say it." Jerin said with a sigh, without looking up.

Everyone in the crowd seemed to think that she was talking specifically to someone else, and for the longest while, none dared step forward to respond. Finally, a tall, haggard looking mouse, his arm in a sling and a bandage over his eye spoke out in a nervous, hesitant voice. "Is it true? Has the dark lord who attacked the city truly been defeated?"

"Yes, but-" Jerin tried to say before being cut off by triumphant cheers.

Her brother, Mathias and Rowan all finally breathed, fearing things might have instead turned out quite ugly. The many mice all excitedly chattered to one another, asking a hundred questions at once to the adventurers, more than a few shedding tears of joy. Only one single mouse in the entire city center showed an expression of anything but unbridled happiness.

That very same mouse balled her paws into fists, gritting her teeth. Jerin looked down at her feet and cried out. "What's wrong with you people? You lost your homes! You got your business' destroyed! So many people got hurt, and it was all because of me! How can you all be celebrating?"

Their scolded expressions did little to alleviate Jerin's guilt, as once more everyone found themselves hesitant to speak up, leaving it, once again, to the visibly wounded mouse to talk. "Well, you see, mice get hurt and killed by dark lords every day. That's nothing new. The defeat of a dark lord, though? That's a once in a lifetime experience... and now it's happened twice in one day!"

A series of happy murmurings and excited agreements rose up following those words.

"No." she replied in a soft voice, shaking her head. "It's not fair. It's not right. This was my fight.Why should others have to suffer for it, and thank me for causing it?"

"Wounds heal, and houses can be rebuilt. As cold as it may sound, even lost lives can be replaced," An elderly feminine voice said to her, taking the young girl by the paw. Jerin looked up, and her eyes went wide at the sight of Miss Mayweather, owner of what was once the general store. Mayweather was, of course, not a family name, as mice have no such things. The 'miss' part wasn't a title either, well, not entirely, rather a nickname which came from the brief period of her youth when she had joined an adventuring company as a knife thrower, famed for her lack of accuracy. "That's all temporary, but what you and your friends have given us? That's forever. There's nobody here who considers that a bad trade. Oh, that reminds me! Here, this is for you."

The old mouse woman reached into a large bag at her side, pulling out something that resembled a lump of felt with a pair of googly eyes, a blue vest and a grey plastic stick which was stuck to what could charitably be called an arm. She handed the small doll to the young girl.

"This is..." Jerin said, looking down at the figure in her hands.

"That's right! A 'Jerin' action figure! This one is just a prototype." She looked from the girl to Aaron and the others. "Don't worry, I've got some in the works for you three, too! Good thing I didn't make them before you switched your outfits. Looks like I'll need to update this one, too." she smiled back to Jerin. "Well? What do you think?"

"It's... it's amazing. How did you make it so high quality? And-and why?"

"Are you joking? These are going to be huge sellers! Every collector in the city is going to want one of these!" she said. She knew better than to claim that such things were designed purely for kids. She had absolutely no intention of judging any adult buyers, the sort who were far more likely to display such things in their homes rather than to actively play with them. The larger the market for such things, the better, so far as she was concerned. "You can keep that one, of course. Oh, that reminds me. Clearly you managed to find the artifact in the Maker's shrine. That alone would make for a pretty good story, even if you'd never taken on the dark lords! I hope the map that I sold you was helpful."

Jerin blinked, wiping away a tear from her eyes. "Yeah. It really was." she lied, before looking around. "But... I don't deserve this. Any of this."

"What's the matter with you?" Aaron growled, finally speaking up. "I swear, you have to do everything the hard way. This is what you always wanted, isn't it? To be the big hero, and be respected by everyone?"

"I'm not a hero." she grumbled.

Rowan stepped in behind her and said in a soft voice. "Well, it would appear that these people disagree. Perhaps they are wrong, and perhaps they are right, but they have experienced great hardship, and the idea that you are a hero has brought them joy and peace." he smiled. "Do you really wish to take that away from them?"

Jerin blinked and couldn't help smiling, closing her eyes and nodding her head. She cleared her throat, and called out to the crowd, raising her broken sword into the air. "Thank you, all of you, but our mission isn't finished yet. We still have one more enemy, Midnight, darkest of the dark lords that needs to be defeated, and I promise, we won't rest until that monster has paid dearly for his crimes!"

An even more excited chorus of cheers followed, not one member of the crowd of mice even the slightest bit skeptical of her words. Aaron could tell that his sister wasn't really feeling it, but still, it was a step in the right direction. He briefly met Miss Mayweather's gaze, who smiled at him. He quickly looked away. There was going is going to need to be a very awkward discussion with her, later. Still, one problem at a time.

At this point Minister Taro stepped in through the crowd. "Forgiveness please, lady Jerin." he said in a practiced authoritative voice, having the diction down, even if not quite the tone, "But once more you and your allies have been summoned to the throne room." he paused, and in a lower voice said. "I'm sure you have more important matters to attend to, however. No one would blame you if you decided to postpone this meeting... or chose to ignore it entirely."

"Of course we'll go!" Jerin said, her voice nearly back to its usual excited pitch. "We were hoping to get some aid from the palace anyways!"

"Forgive me for saying so, madame..." the minister cleared his throat. "But the palace is not the sort of place known for being... helpful."

"It's very important. We need to go there right away." Jerin replied.

"Very well. Please follow me."

The crowd of excited mice made a path, watching with adoration as the four heroes passed by. As they did, Jerin took notice of the wounded mouse, the first to speak up and walked over to him. "Thank you, for your kind words." she said, touching his slinged and bandaged arm with her paw.

He immediately yelped, jumping back, eyes wide in shock.

"I'm so sorry! Did that hurt!" Jerin asked, shrinking back a little herself.

"No, of course not! Imagine, me, being touched by the great hero!" he chirped excitedly, running off to tell everyone. "I'm never washing this arm again!"

"You should really clean the wound regularly!" she called out after him, but it came just a little too late. He was already gone.

"Feeling any better?" Mathias asked her as they walked through the moonlit castle grounds.

"Not really. Those people had to give so much, way more than we did, and they're acting like we did them some sort of favor." she sighed and shook her head.

"They got back a lot, too. We all did. Sure, in a perfect world, happiness and prosperity would be free, and we could all have as much as we want. In reality, though? There's usually a cost, and sometimes it's a big one. Often far bigger than what you get in return. In this case, we were lucky. There were few casualties, and all of those houses will be rebuilt soon enough."

"I don't like relying on luck. Even as bad as things are, they could have gone much worse, and there's nothing we could have done about it. It doesn't seem fair that we get credit for it."

Mathias chuckled. "Take it from a former thief: You can't depend on luck all the time, as sometimes it will screw you over, but every once in a while? Once in a while you just have to. This all might just feel random, and hey, maybe it is, but I've always thought that luck was sort of like a sentient being. It takes sides occasionally, and it has desired outcomes, and sure, it will punish you if you get too greedy, and once in a while, just to balance the scales, it might even hurt people that don't really deserve it, but in the end? I think it wants to do what is right, just like we do."

"It's just all so strange. Like, why does it seem like I'm the one getting all of the credit? This was a team effort, and I never would have made it this far without you all." she replied.

"Come on, do you really need to ask that? It's all in Mollenoch's Guide to Heroism! Every party needs a leader for people to identify with, even if everyone in the group plays an equally essential role"

"Wait, you've read the guide?" she asked, surprised.

"Of course I have! What, do you think I was born a thief? Hey, I had dreams of being some great explorer and hero, too. Then, well, life kind of got in the way, as it often does, and I set them aside, eventually even forgot that I had them... and then..." he said, suddenly finding himself more than a little bit self conscious. "Well, then I met you, and you made all those old dreams, the dreams that I looked back on as foolish, the sort of things that only happen in storybooks, and, well... you made them real. I guess it's hard for you to understand just how special that is. How special you are, for being able to make that happen."

"No, I just wanted to get revenge. I was selfish and not really thinking. You're all the ones who actually considered the risks, and bravely decided to come along, even though you had nothing to gain from it. All I do is run ahead without thinking. There's nothing heroic about that. You all deserve the credit. Not me."

"Come on, you've read the Chronicles of Xinthor series, right? Running ahead without thinking is what legendary heroes have always done. As for credit, hey, I never liked being the center of attention anyways." Mathias said.

"I have always been more the studious sort. We work best in the shadows..." Rowan mused, "...but I do hope that the action figure that they design makes me look just a little bit younger."

"You know me, I don't like anyone making a big fuss." Aaron said, smiling. "Doesn't matter anyways. The mob has spoken. You're now the great hero, and you're going to have people bothering you about it, and expecting you to do fetch quests for them for the rest of your life. There's no escaping it. Whether you think you deserve it or not, it's happening, and you'd better get used to it."

"Heh, maybe you're right. No matter how dumb or weak I am, I guess it's not my decision. Even if I never do anything brave, at this point, the stories are going to be told, and exaggerated for pretty much forever." Jerin said, looking down at the tarnished sword at her belt. She couln't help but think back to the prophecy of the dark lord, namely how the battle was predicted to turn out. "I've still got to fight Midnight, though. Not because I'm brave or noble or anything, just because... well because I have to. Until I can stand face to face with that creature, show him that I'm not afraid, and stop him from hurting anyone else, I-I'll just never feel complete. I can't let others, anyone else ever again get hurt by my mission, though."

"We've been over this. You don't have a choice." Aaron said.

"Huh? Sure I do. You said it yourself! I'm the leader! The great hero! When I say jump, people are supposed to say 'how high', and if I lead you guys back home, you have to follow!"

"You'd think so, wouldn't you? That's the annoying thing about being a hero, though. You really don't make many choices. You mostly react when bad things happen, do quests others tell you to do, and others either follow you around as allies or threaten you as enemies because they want to, not because of you want them to. It pretty much involves constantly being bossed around by fate, local authorities and the common citizenry." Aaron said.

Jerin blinked. "What, really? It never mentioned anything about that in the Guide!"

"Sure it does!" Mathias chimed in. "Well, maybe not directly. You need to read between the lines a bit, but it's all there."

"Now that we've got that established, you're going to lead us to Midnight, and we're all going to help you smash that smug face of his in, and there's nothing you can say to stop it. Understand?" Aaron smiled to her.

Jerin laughed, for the first time in what felt, like forever, to her, at least. She nodded her head. "Yes, sir!"

Aaron was relieved to see her spirits lifted, and hoped that that would be enough. She looked terribly weak right now, just walking seeming to require far more effort than it should have. Still, it was a step in the right direction. The first thing that the four noticed were the guards all around the palace. It was not entirely surprising, considering the recent attack, but Aaron in particular couldn't help but be annoyed at the fact that they were all standing here protecting the castle, rather than the city. This didn't change once they had stepped inside, as the minister bypassed the waiting area, leading them straight down a hallway lined with guards standing at attention, eyes forward, before finally reaching the throne room. They were clearly taking no chances with security in here, either, as a good two dozen armored soldiers, more than Jerin and the others knew that the whole had city held, stood alert, spears at the ready.

Jerin stepped forward, giving a polite bow. The others hesitated just a little before following suit.

"I see you have returned." the king said. "Victorious once again, but at a serious price."

"Yes, sir." Jerin answered,, head bowed. "I am willing to take full responsibility for the attack on the city."

Both Aaron and Mathias were about to object when the small mouse in the terrifying throne raised a jeweled paw. "You are not responsible for the safety of this city." he said in a mildly annoyed voice. "I am. That isn't why I called you here, however, nor is it why you have come. It is because of your sword, is it not?"

Jerin found herself briefly surprised, but in the end it was no shock that the leader of the nation would be particularly aware of what was happening around him. She removed the blade, not nearly as smooth and sleek as it once was, it catching on her belt, and requiring a sharp tug to pull free. "Yes. It was damaged in the battle with the dark lord, Fury."

"How?" the king asked.

"Huh?"

"How, specifically, was it damaged? Such information may aid in the repairs." he said in a flat voice. "That is why you have come, is it not?"

"Oh, right! Of course! Um, well, first it hit me with its paw, and knocked the sword out of my hand. Then it stomped down on it, smashing the edge into the ground." Jerin sighed, looking up and down the now warped metal length.

"So, you are certain that the dark lord had touched the handle of the weapon with its hand... that is to say its paw?"

Jerin blinked. "Um... yes?"

The robed mouse rose to his feet. "That is very helpful to know. You don't need to worry, I will have my finest blacksmiths working around the clock. Meanwhile, to you and your friends, I offer full access to the castle armory. Any manner of weapons, armor or artifacts are yours for the taking, as well as as many troops as you would require. You have our fullest support in your crusade, to assure that this enemy of yours, rather, this enemy of all of our people is defeated, once and for all."

"Wow, really?" Jerin beamed, stepping in closer. Aaron, Mathias and Rowan tried to follow, only to find themselves blocked by guards. With the heightened tensions, it made sense that a whole group wasn't allowed within arms reach of the king, and all things considered, it was an honor for a young girl to be able to. Still, Aaron couldn't help but think that there was something unsettling about all of this. He really wished that he had still had his hammer.

"Of course. You and your friends may think that you have been fighting on your own, but that is not the case. Your battles, as impressive as they were, are mere skirmishes in a much greater conflict, one which shall soon come to an end." the crowned mouse smiled. "All that you have to do is give me the sword."

Jerin looked down at the blade, and back up at the king. She felt a sudden flash of cold. Something about the look in the ruler's eyes, which appeared decidedly unkind and very much unhelpful.

"I... I don't know..." she said, nervously, backing up a single step, stopping once she felt the point of a spear against her back.

"I wasn't asking." The white furred king glared. "I am not a cruel man. I understand that you have fought a difficult battle, and that your nerves are likely rather frayed. It would be unfair of me to consider your hesitation a form of criminal subordination. I may think differently should it continue, however. Hand over the artifact. Now."

Jerin furrowed her brow, gripping the slightly warped handle within her fingers. She looked over her shoulder to see her brother, Mathias and the sorcerer all looking with surprised expressions at the spears pointed towards them. "It's funny, you seem awfully determined to 'help' us." she said. "I noticed you said that your blacksmiths were going to fix it, which is good... but you didn't say that you were going to give it back to me once it was repaired. Are you?"

The crowned mouse, Deathlocke Soulcrusher, was taken aback. "Of course I will!"

"You're lying." she said, plainly. "I don't know exactly why you want my sword so much, but it sure isn't to help us."

"Foolish brat!" he growled, sounding commanding for, perhaps, the first time in his life. "You can't see the world beyond the tip of your nose. You say that I'm not here to help you? You're right. Unlike you, I'm going to help every one of us. That is all that I've ever wanted, all that I've ever done, even if nobody else appreciates it."

"You're not getting my sword." she growled back, pointing her bent blade towards the throne.

"What I had said wasn't a request or even an order. It was a proclamation. It has already been decided." the king said, snapping his fingers, settling back into the stone throne..

Spears stabbed at her from all directions, not seeking to run her through, rather to entangle her legs and body through sheer numbers. Instead, she simply hopped straight up, landing atop where the many wooden shafts crossed, the weight of her body slamming them all down against the stone floor.

"Behind you!" her brother called to her, even as he and the others were pushed back into the hallway, more soldiers standing between her and the group. She didn't require the warning, however, immediately thrusting the dulled sword backwards under her arm, the now blunt tip catching the nearby spearman in the middle of his armored chest, knocking him to the floor. Another quick slash across the wrists of the three soldiers in front of her made them drop their pinned spears, and as the middle one crouched to retrieve his weapon, she leapt forward, landing upon his helmeted head, and sprung herself towards the calm looking ruler, who watched the battle from his throne.

She wasn't entirely certain what she had intended to do. Certainly not hurt him. Maybe take him hostage? All she knew was that he was an enemy who had meant her and her friends harm, and thus needed to be dealt with. She didn't get a chance to do anything, however. In the corner of her eye, she caught a blur of red and black. The mouse barely raised her sword in time to guard herself from the strike which sent the blade clacking across the floor,, simultaneously feeling a sudden impact of the shaft of a spear to the back of her neck. It wasn't enough badly injure her, just enough to knock the swordswoman down onto her knees as the seemingly countless polearms point to her throat. She looked up to see the twisted grin of Samuel, his wooden blade set directly under her chin.

"Take her away." The king said, tenting his fingers. "The others as well."

"Um... what others?" A nearby armored mouse asked.

"Her allies, you fool! They're right over... there?" he first commanded, before his authoritative voice turned into a surprised question. At the end of the room, in the narrow hallway were two unconscious castle guards. Meanwhile, Aaron, Mathias and Rowan had vanished without a trace.