It was difficult to judge the capabilities of this new force, or, more accurately, those two new forces. Back in our kingdom, you could kind of eyeball an adventurer and at least judge that they looked strong, but these soldiers didn't wear heavy armor, and only half of them even held proper weapons, those being rather simple wooden clubs, albeit particularly well crafted ones.

Still, they had an aggressive look to them. Their eyes glared with an angry intensity, and a general bearing which told everyone around them that they were looking for a fight. The only problem was that each side of this new, united army was looking to the other with those hateful expressions. They had all gathered within a huge, underground chamber, a sort of 'practice field' where they had apparently trained, more than large enough to house everyone while still, thankfully, also allowing for some extra space between the groups. This space, a few mouse lengths in width, might as well had been been an impregnable barrier based on the unwillingness of either side to cross it. Instead, each of the forces, red and blue, silently glared at one another, unmoving.

All at once the attention of the many belligerent soldiers had turned to one side, to the pair which had walked together down that invisible border. They looked entirely unimpressive, neither larger nor stronger than any of these other mice, wearing the exact same sort of hats and uniforms of each side, and yet, despite this, their very presence had effortlessly earned the undivided attentions of every single mouse in the room.

"Listen up!" Reginald the batter called, looking towards his own army. Every time that I wrote down one of their names, I ended up second guessing myself, as it was so easy to mix them up. "All of our past battles and skirmishes were just practice up to this point. The nature of the game has changed, but the stakes have not."

"That's right." Archibald the pitcher said, looking to the opposite side, to the red uniformed mice. "Now it's time for a real competition. One that tests not just strength and speed, but cooperation. This time, we're all going to be on the same team."

There was a lot of grumbling from both sides. Not angry grumbling, as they dared not to show even the faintest hint of disloyalty towards their own mighty leaders, but they were nonetheless very much confused. It was silenced at the batter drew his weapon from his belt and slammed it down against his open paw, resulting in a mighty clap which echoed throughout the chamber.

"Up until now, you've fought one other. Killed one other. Hurled very creative and entertaining insults at one another. But, there is more to leading than that, as we now see. Once this war is all said and done, only one of us, I or Archibald, shall be left standing, to rule over all the rest of you."

"Well, figuratively speaking. There's a very good chance that we'll both still be alive. It's almost certain, in fact." the pitcher interjected.

"Oh, yes, of course, I should have been more clear." the other smiled before turning back to his soldiers. "But make no mistake. The competition, as it always has, shall go on. The goal is still to be the strongest, the fastest, the best...est. This will no longer happen by crippling or destroying our own people, however. All too late do we both realize that that was a foolish path."

"Yes. The goal is no longer to gain power at the expense of our own people, but for all of us, each and every one of us, to grow stronger, as we unite against a common foe. A most terrible evil, who scoffs at the rules of this world. Who chooses to cheat rather than to win by their own virtues." Archibald said.

Louder murmurings followed, each and every member of both crowds shocked by these sudden revelations. Not the idea of working together, even if that was still rather surprising, but the idea of cheaters, the worst thing that one, that anyone, could possibly be. The very notion had filled every soul within the underground chamber with disgust.

"The goal of each and every one of you, pitcher and batter alike, has largely unchanged: To be the very best you can possibly be, and in turn, to motivate your former enemies to do the same. In the past we have accomplished this through warfare, but now it will be in the spirit of cooperation. I, of course, don't expect all of you to suddenly become friends, or to forget the family and comrades that you have lost at the hands of your enemies."

"Yes." the pitcher nodded. "You aren't expected to like one another. You are expected to use one another. Not only to better yourselves, but to help better your rivals, not for their sake but for your own. To help them raise to ever greater heights, and in turn, give each and every one of you something greater to aspire to. Make no mistake, however: This is no mere team-building exercise. This is war. There will be blood and there will be pain, and all of that anger and hate that you bear? Well, both of us expect you, all of you, to unleash it, ten-fold against the most wretched of enemies that we shall face."

More murmurings, considerably more content than before. They hardly even seemed concerned about the idea of cooperating with those who had attempted to murder them the previous night. It was not entirely surprising. There's nothing like a greater foe to unite previously hostile factions. Also, to be realistic, soldiers don't tend to be highly idealistic creatures. They don't particularly care who they are fighting, so long as they get to fight. All that they require is an enemy.

"Pitchers..." The batter called to the other side, bat raised high, "We have long had our differences. Ours is the way of defiance, and yours is the way of compliance. We meet force with opposing power, and you make it your own and grow all the stronger from it. Disagree though we might, there is one thing that none can deny: Your aim is true, and your arms strong."

"Batters..." Archibald said, turning from his own army. "Time and time again, we have see you do the impossible. To take our mightiest of pitches, which harness the power of the very earth itself, and entirely reverse their course through sheer determination and physical might. Each one of my kind had felt that shame and anger when our perfect pitches had failed to strike our enemies, and were, instead, fired right back, more often than not striking one of our own in the process. We hated it. We feared it. But it was also beautiful and thrilling and terrifying and in that moment of impact, I think I speak for everyone when I say that we felt one thing above all else: Respect."

Reginald now spoke, "We need your strength to aid us, in more ways than one. For all of our disagreements, both Archibald and I have always respected fair play above all else. It is true, that I wish to defeat my rival. I want that more than anything else in this world. But I want to earn it. I want all of us to earn it, so that when I finally do stand triumphant, there shall be no soul on earth that will question how hard fought, hard won and entirely deserved it was. I, none of us, wishes to be simply handed such a prize. We want to fight for it, and I know full well that there is no more determined, more focused and more powerful force than you pitchers. Should I stand above, it will be a glorious victory, and should, somehow, I fall... well, I could fall to no more worthy an opponent. So I ask you, will you fight alongside me? Will you take the hands of your former enemies, to both drive yourselves and them to greater heights, and help protect our foreign allies from the vile, cheating hordes?"

"...and will you, batters, be willing to lend your might to our cause? To drive us to throw ever harder and feel the majesty as the stones we launch are used not against us, but to destroy our common and most hated of foes?"

The room echoed with roars of approval, all of which slowly subsided. What followed was a certain awkwardness as the moment had passed, as each force, red and blue, stared at one another from across that vacant barrier. With that moment of initial excitement over, but what would happen now? Finally a pitcher stepped forward. The batters looked suspicious, as he extended a single open paw. At first none dared react, but finally a single batter emerged as well, a smaller woman who had sat to one side. She looked him up and down, and tightly grips the paw and shook as their eyes locked. Expressions of past hated melted away, replaced with sheer determination, as a personal rivalry, the next best thing to friendship had been forged. One by one, more mice stepped forward from both sides, past grudges, for the moment, at least, forgotten and replaced with something altogether different: An overwhelming desire to rise above a truly worthy foe.

Our own party had watched this from some distance, but largely remained silent. As strange as the customs of this land might have been, it was difficult to not feel inspired by the spectacle, and almost hard to believe that all of these mice, complete strangers to us, were actually willing to fight for our cause.

"Any word on the agents of the Devourer?" Sellas had asked a nearby bird. I was still not entirely comfortable with that designation for our enemies, but had little choice but to accept it at this point.

"They still wait, less than an hours walk from our current position." A nearby member of the flock had replied. Due to their shared religious affiliations, they had been getting along fairly well with the cultists, even if they couldn't seem to resist teasing some of the more meek members on occasion.

"I wonder what they're waiting for." Jeb said.

"It's obvious. They're waiting for us." Samson replied. "They know that we're heading back to the kingdom, so they don't need to chase us. They can simply fortify their position and let us come to them."

"Hmm. Well, if we know where they are, perhaps we could get around them undetected." the farmer said after giving the matter some thought.

"Why should we?" Meryll asked. "We've got a full army now! We're better trained now, and their number are small. We should just crush them where they stand!"

"As much as I hate to agree with her, she's right." Samson nodded. "We're going to have to fight eventually. If we leave them be, even if that does work, and we don't just end up getting ambushed later by them, they'll just rejoin the main host of Mollenoch's forces. Forces which, I should point out, we still don't know the exact size and capabilities of. This might be a rare opportunity to weaken our enemy. Any opponents we defeat now will be fewer that we'll need to face in the future."

"I'm just not sure. If they're just idly waiting, they must be awfully confident in themselves." The farmer frowned.

"Yeah. Overconfident. They beat us twice, not to mention all the victories in their past battles against our kingdom. They've got good reason to think that they're invincible, but this time things will be different. We'll be ready for them. Even aside from our new allies, I've got a special surprise planned for that so-called 'platinum angel'." Meryll smiled wickedly as she slammed a fist into her palm.

"Like I said, we have to fight sometime. Our side is about as strong as it's going to get. If we can't defeat a small contingent of their troops, who we dramatically outnumber, well, we might as well just give up now. Taking on the entire enemy force would be hopeless." The one-eyed mouse said.

Jebediah nodded his head and sighed. "You're not wrong. I guess a part of me didn't really want to accept this. You know, the whole 'war' part. It's silly, I know, because that's why we're all here, that's the whole point, but actually planning to go out to fight, to kill other mice? Even if they are bad, even if they attacked us first, it just doesn't feel right."

"It doesn't have to feel right for you. You can leave that to us." Meryll said, clapping a large, heavy mitt on his shoulder. "You are our leader, though. The great champion, chosen by Jerin herself. If you choose to walk away, that's your right. We're all in control of our own destiny. I think we both know that isn't going to happen, though. You might not see yourself as some brave hero. To be honest, I sometimes have trouble seeing you that way, too, but I know you'll do the right thing. You know what you have to do."

The farmer chuckled, his head still lowered. "What can I say? I would certainly hate to disappoint everyone, after we've come all this way. I guess all that we can do is move forward, and see what happens, right?" he smiled up at me and the others.

"Yeah, that's right! We'll win this fight, and when that Mollenoch guy hears what happened to his troops, he'll run back wherever it is that he came from!" Tanzra said, a fist raised, sitting on the back of her orange cat who smiled happily all the while.

"Why are you even still here?" Samson growled to her.

"You guys gave me food and therefore purchased my services. It's only fair that I fight alongside you!"

"Wait, wait..." the one-eyed mouse said, pinching between his eyes, fighting off another growing headache. "You were willing to sell your services in exchange for food? Why didn't you say that to begin with? Why did you try to rob us and then just beg for food, when you were completely willing to earn it?"

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"I have a reputation to protect!" She huffed, arms folded across her chest. "I didn't want you to think I was some sort of floozy who just gives out her services to anyone who's willing to pay!"

Samson was about to object, but instead simply shook his head. "Ugh, fine, whatever."

A pair of familiar mice approached at this point, followed by an unknown one several steps behind. "Greetings, friends!" Archibald called to us, "Our troops should be fully geared up and ready to move within the hour. We overheard that an enemy force lies in wait nearby. We are eager to meet these foes, face to face, on the field of battle!"

"Agreed! It will be a refreshing change of pace. We'll have to adjust our usual tactics, somewhat, however." the lead batter said.

"I was a little bit curious about that. When we first arrived, we witnessed a battle between your forces, but it was dark and we were pretty far away." Meryll said. "How exactly do you people fight?"

The uniformed pair looked to one another, seemingly surprised that we wouldn't know, before Archibald finally spoke up, "It's simple enough. Both forces form a series of lines across from one another. First strike goes to the pitchers, of course, as we hurl stones with all of our might in an effort to strike and defeat our enemies!"

"Indeed. Next, its our turn. It is our job to not only evade those stones, but strike them in mid air, launching them back towards out enemies in hopes of injuring them."

"It''s quite impressive the level of accuracy you and yours are able to strike them back. In turn, we make every effort to evade these, or catch them if at all possible, and the process begins anew."

Reginald nodded. "Yup. As it goes on, it becomes less taking turns, as the timing of each pitch can vary, and things become more chaotic. Eventually, the pitchers run out of stones to throw, naturally giving us nothing to hit back, and the battle is declared over. From there, each side collects their wounded and returns to their respective dugouts to prepare for the next battle."

"Wait..." Samson sighed once again, making no effort to resist the headache this time. "That's how you fight? I just assumed you used those clubs, I mean 'bats' of yours as, you know... proper weapons."

The batter balked at this. "What, you mean simply charge up and strike mice with them? That's horrible! We're not savages!"

"Okay, fine... you, Reginald..." Samson said, looking to the head pitcher.

"I'm Archibald. He's Reginald."

"Whatever. Anyways, I assume you'll simply throw your rocks at the enemy?"

"Well, that is certainly an option, but it seems woefully impractical. It would leave the batters with nothing to do! No, to truly fight at our best, we must combine our strength. We will throw to the batters, who will then strike the stones back to the enemies!" the pitcher nodded.

The one-eyed mouse sighed once again. "So you need to throw accurately, the batters need to not only accurately hit those small, fast-moving targets, but also deflect them in just the right directions to strike moving opponents, all the while making sure to not injure any of their own allies, while simultaneously evade attacks from the enemy? That's an awful lot of potential failure points."

The leader of the batters, Reginald smiled to Samson, gently patting him on the shoulder. "You needn't worry. There is no shame in being unversed in the art of warfare. Just leave everything to us."

In response to this, Samson's face twitched a little in annoyance, but he said nothing further.

"Well, I'm glad that's settled." Jebediah smiled, "Now, who would this be? Another of your soldiers?"

All eyes turned to the pair of newcomers, or, more accurately, the demure woman standing behind them. It seemed unlikely that she was a soldier. Not only did she not wear either of the team colors, but she lacked the physique of a trained warrior. With a simple white dress and a bonnet atop her head, the older, white furred mouse appeared surprised to suddenly find herself the focus of attention. She wasn't blatantly hiding, of course, but she didn't seem to expect to be noticed, either. I, for one, was a little surprised at her manner of dress, which didn't fit the rest of the city aesthetic. Then again, we had only seen batters, pitchers and a few attendants of the Umpiress thus far, and a thriving community had existed beyond them.

"Oh, um... I'm sorry. I suppose I should introduce myself. My name is Claire and, well, I didn't mean to eavesdrop earlier, but I was sure I heard the name of the great hero Mollenoch come up..." she said in a soft, meek voice, avoiding eye contact with anyone around her.

"Yeah. I'm not sure about the whole 'great hero' thing, though." Meryll said, looking to the newcomer coldly. Whether this reaction was due to the fact that she only seemed to have an affinity for younger, smaller mouse women, or due to her mentioning the name of our enemy was difficult to determine. "He is our sworn foe, and we won't rest until he is defeated!"

"I... see. I suppose I shouldn't be too surprised. If has been such a long time since I'd last seen him."

This was met with shocked silence, before I, unable to help myself, finally spoke up. "Wait, you know the shadow king? But how? Nobody else in this city seems to have even heard of the man."

The woman, Claire nodded her head. "Yes. I am a former citizen of your kingdom, and I do, indeed, know an awful lot about Molly. In fact..." she said, looking up with small, sad eyes, "There was a time when we were to be wed."

"So you knew him before he left the kingdom?" Meryll asked, "Before he turned all evil and shadow-kingish? What happened?"

"I... I don't know for certain, of course. I never could quite understand what was going on in his heart. I especially cannot tell you anything that had happened since he departed the kingdom, as I had left that place as well. There were too many bad memories there. It hurt too much to remain, so I went on a journey and found this city where I was welcomed, and remained ever since."

"I understand if you lack any sort of specific tactical knowledge that might aid us, but anything that you could tell us about him would be quite helpful." Jebediah said, stepping forward.

"I really don't know what to say. He was a troubled man, for so long as I had known him. I did my best to help set him on the proper course, but, well... you know how it is. He was a living legend, and I... well, I was just me. Despite our differences, we were desperate to make it work, but, well... it seemed that all we could do was try to maintain our relationship, despite its many fractures, rather than moving forward. In time, we could no longer even manage that. As devastating as parting with him was, it was all that I could do." she smiled, softly chuckling to herself. "By the Makers, if only I could see him again. No longer weighed down by youthful idealism, I'd like to think that I could make it work, if I could do it all over again... or at the very least, I could apologize for hurting him, so."

"Ugh... so, if I'm getting this straight, Mollenoch turned from a legendary hero, into a brutal, murderous tyrant as a result of his girlfriend breaking up with him?" Samson grumbled.

"Relationships can be difficult things, and can leave scars as deep as any you might earn in battle. Sometimes, all it takes is meeting the right person, and your entire world will change, and you'll start to see it with completely new eyes." Tanzra said, smiling down at the large cat beneath her. "The world can go from a cold, lonely and scary place to one that is warm, bright and exciting! I can only imagine that, when you lose someone special to you, the reverse can happen as well."

The older woman stepped up to Jebediah, taking his paws in her own, looking to him with sorrowful, grey eyes. "If you are truly going to face Mollenoch, please, let me come with you! I'm afraid that I'm not any good at fighting, and can't be of much help, but I swear I'll stay out of your way, and not be a bother! Please. I just need to see his face just one more time."

"We have enough non-combatants tagging along as it is." Samson grumbled once again.

"It doesn't matter! It's true love! We can't keep them apart any longer!" Tanzra beamed.

"Well, we've never had a rigid screening process for taking people along with us." The farmer shrugged. "And who knows? If this breakup really was the cause of this whole mess, maybe, just maybe she can help end the fighting."

Claire looked to her feet once more. "I... can't promise anything. Molly has always been a strong willed man. I have no idea what will happen when he sees me again. He could well hate me, as would be entirely within his rights, but I have to try. I have grown much over the passing months, and I would like to believe that he has as well. Perhaps we can finally accomplish what we could not before, and I can help him fully embrace his true purpose in life."

I continued to frantically scribble increasingly unintelligible notes onto my pad. My breathing had quickened and my paws shook as I looked from face to face to face to face, and, well, it was just too much. "Um, excuse me..." I barely choked out. "I need some air."

I rushed from the room. None followed, none likely even considered following, having hardly even noticed my presence to begin with. I was glad. It was a sign that I was doing my job properly. That, at very least, I could do something properly.

Of course my departure hadn't gone entirely unnoticed. There was a certain faction of our forces who did little aside from noticing every little thing around them, who made it their business to know. Who always had their eyes on everything, and more than a few of those eyes were consistently pointed in my direction. Even as I fell to my knees, head in my paws, breathing heavily, somehow, a member of the flock was already there, as though it had already known where I was going before I had even considered leaving.

"You are disturbed." It said, watching me with those shining black eyes. "What is the matter?"

"Nothing. I'm fine. Everything is... everything is fine." I said, trying to calm myself, "Why wouldn't everything be fine? It's great in fact. We've got a whole army now. All of these new faces and names, each with their own back stories to document, and events to catalog. That's my job, after all."

"Is it?" the bird asked in its strange, toneless yet musical voice, head tilted to one side.

"Yes, it is! And there's so much to keep track of! Everyone is always talking, and when I try to document one discussion, I'm missing three others, and who knows what sort of important stuff is being said! And just when I think I have a handle on things, someone new is introduced, with their own objectives and personality that I need to get a read on... and, hey, who am I kidding? I wasn't even handling it properly before! I'm still calling Sellas' followers 'the cultists'! I don't know any of their names, and even if they aren't the most independently minded folks, they're still mice!"

"Yes, there are a lot of new people to keep track of, but I would not worry. I'm sure some of them will die soon, and things will get easier." it nodded.

"That's what I'm talking about! What happens if someone dies? They're people with hopes and dreams, and I won't even be able to say who they were!"

"People have already died. Two members of our flock were killed while distracting your ambushers in order to help you and your allies escape."

"You're right! I completely glossed over that, even though it was a brave sacrifice made to protect complete strangers to whom you owed nothing! That's a noble and inspiring tale in itself, which I barely acknowledged! My whole job is to document what's happening, and so many things are going to happen, and so many lives will be destroyed and even though I'm here, nobody will know about it!"

The bird simply stared into my soul with its dark eyes. "Do you feel better?" it finally said.

"What? Why would I feel better?"

There was the briefest of pauses before it once again asked. "Do you feel better?"

I glared at it, and gritted my teeth, feeling my anger welling up, but then stopped, closed my eyes and took a deep breath. All at once, it melted away. I couldn't help but smile. "Yeah. I think I do a little bit. I'm not really sure why, though."

"Ideas are grand and often terrible. Words, on the other hand, are merely things, and petty ones at that. An idea can seem overwhelming, but things? Things can be dealt with." It said, "As for your other problem, the sun will rise tomorrow, whether you make a note of it or not. You are not a God who is defining the universe, you are merely taking notes upon it. Whatever you manage to do is, by definition, enough."

"You're probably right. It sure doesn't feel that way, though."

"And it never will. Your kind never has enough, never does enough. You demand more from others, from yourselves, from all of reality, and never fill yourselves to completion. It is as though you fear, deep down, that you are incapable of true happiness, and thus are terrified to stop, lest you lose the distraction caused by your endless search."

"You think so? That we really can't be happy?"

"No. You're just driven by fear, and create imaginary obstacles which need to be overcome, which cannot be overcome. You spend so much time afraid that you fail to grasp the obvious, universal truth." the bird said.

"Oh really? And what's that?"

"That in the end, you have nothing to lose, and thus, ultimately, nothing to fear. All your kind needs to do is untangle all of the knots that you deliberately bind about your own hearts, and once you do, you shall find that peace, true peace, was always within reach."

"So, in the end we just need to relax and accept that one way or another, everything will work out, huh?" I said with a sigh. "Sounds a lot easier said than done. Do you think I'll be able to manage that one of these days?"

I knew their brown beaks to be largely immobile, but I'd swear I'd seen a hint of a smile upon it. "We certainly hope not. You're a lot more fun this way."

"Heh. Yeah, I guess I can see that." I said, looking into those deep, dark eyes, leaning forward, stroking along the brown fluff of its cheek. "A little messiness is sometimes needed to keep things interesting. You don't want everything to... fit together... too well."

"Yes." it said, staring deeply into my own eyes, leaning in closer. "Sometimes, perceived incompatibility can be... highly underrated."

"Yeah. You're right. You're definitely right." I said. I wasn't sure when I had last blinked. I felt the warmth of quickened heartbeat under my palm. "Um... I know you guys can't completely read minds but... uh... do you know what I'm thinking right now?" I said, with more than a hint of embarrassment in my voice.

"Yes. Yes we do." it replied.

"And, um... are you... thinking the same thing?"

"I must consult with the flock. One moment." It said, as its eyes went dark, the shine vanishing from them. and just as I was about to push the creature away and make an awkward departure, the black orbs flashed to life once more. It said nothing as it tackled me, pushing backwards, onto the floor. My only regret was that I didn't do that to it first.

I squeezed the plump, feathered body, feeling the warmth run through my fingers, as the thin legs curled around me, the claws digging and scraping into my back, but I couldn't have cared less about the pain. My mouth met the open beak, and our tongues touched within it. Our hearts beat as one, with an intensity that I wouldn't have dreamed possible. For just a moment, an idea occurred to me. I pulled my head back, gazed into those beautiful eyes and considered asking whether they were a female bird or a male one, only to immediately decide that I didn't even care, and resumed hungrily kissing that beautiful beak, and squeezing that soft, plush body against my own.

We both looked up immediately, having detected another presence, and turned to look out into the nearby hallway, where Jebediah stood, looking into the room with a surprised expression. I had little doubt that both of ours matched it.

"Um..." I finally said after a long and awkward pause. "This... isn't what it looks like."

Upon those words, Jebediah immediately relaxed. "Really? Well, that's a relief." he said, walking away, softly humming to himself, apparently completely content with that explanation.

The moment was thoroughly ruined, but the nice thing about moments is that no matter how bad one proves to be, there's always a new one following right behind, one that promises to potentially be so much better. It very much lived up to that promise, as did the next and the many more which followed. As it turns out, the bird was completely right: Living gets a whole lot easier as soon as you let go of all of your irrational hangups, and simply choose to let life happen.