Days passed, as they habitually do. The atmosphere wasn't particularly tense, as when you're part of an army, even if a fledgling one, traveling in the opposite direction of the unstoppable, technologically advanced opposing military force tended to be very good for morale. There was some concern that we were traveling too far, however. Our, that is to say their entire job was to defend the city from this strange enemy and earlier scout reports had still put them a few weeks away. This was strange in and of itself, seeing as how, distance-wise, they really weren't all that far away. They were, instead, traveling at an unusually slow speed. This was generally seen as a good thing, but it did raise an awful lot of questions. The timeline was further verified by the enemy soldier we had faced within the city, but they were considered to be a less than trustworthy source. What if the information was inaccurate? What if their speed of transport had changed? What would happen if the shadow king's army ended up reaching the largely defenseless mouse city while we were away?

Well, pretty much the same thing that would have happened if we were there. Even if the reports of their power and numbers are highly exaggerated, it was obvious that we were still nowhere close to a match for them. Even from the brief look at the two soldiers we had encountered before leaving the city, it was clear that we were outclassed, and not by a small degree, either. Facing such a force now would have just lead to a massacre, one which would have barely weakened their army at all. We were not the first group of soldiers to have opposed the strange 'cyber mice', and we wouldn't have been the first that they had utterly annihilated, either.

All that we could do was continue to move forward, and hope to bolster our strength. So far it was going fairly well. Not that the soldiers were dramatically improving, of course, but one can't expect miracles in this situation, no matter how potentially necessary those miracles might be. Meryll had been training the Starman cultists, and proved to be a tough yet fair teacher. They showed no exceptional aptitude for combat, but they are both disciplined and downright eager to take orders, which even the veteran warrior recognized as being more than adequate. During these sessions, Dave simply watched, as was his default action at any given time. A few half-hearted attempts were made to get him to join in on the training sessions, but none of these efforts proved to be even mildly successful. This wasn't seen as a real problem, however. He wasn't the only non-combatant, he never complained, never got in anyone's way, and generally didn't bother anyone. Sure, we was still quite odd, but we had all quickly grown used to his oddness, with many seeing him as a sort of mascot for our band.

Back to the cultists, while far from a finely tuned fighting force, they at least knew how to properly hold and swing their weapons without harming themselves or their allies. Usually, at least. Things were getting steadily better, but the big question was, of course, whether it would be enough. There was no real sense in worrying about that, though. We'd know when it happened. In the meantime, we could only hope that we would be rewarded with new and powerful allies at the end of this long march.

It was only a matter of time before problems arose, however. We all knew it. The biggest issue was the size of our group. We weren't exactly marching in formation across the flats, but we were large enough to be unpleasantly visible, and likely not strong or numerous enough to fend off the sort of creatures that we'd be visible to. At least not without taking heavy losses in the process, losses which we absolutely could not afford. Numbers side, morale may have been fairly strong at this point, but it's a lot harder to remain in good spirits when people are dying around you. Ideally that part, an unavoidable part of any war, would be put off for as long as possible.

Anyways, my point was that being spotted was pretty much inevitable, given a long enough time-frame. It was fortunate, borderline miraculous even, that what had seen and intercepted our traveling band wasn't a massive and hungry predator, but at the time it was a little bit difficult to be gracious for that good fortune.

"Aren't you going the wrong way?" A hopping ball of feathers asked, speaking in a strangely cheerful yet very off sounding voice.

"Indeed. Retreating before even seeing the enemy proper. That must be some sort of cowardice record. It borders on impressive." another replied.

This wasn't our first 'discussion' with these creatures. At first it was only a few of them, but the strange birds seemed to multiply as we traveled, their distant laughs and murmurings to one another growing steadily more frequent. Completely ignoring them was the sensible approach, and one that most of us followed even early on. Well, aside from Meryll, who was quick to charge and take swings at them, for all the good that did. As a rule, melee weapons aren't very effective against flying creatures. Even for the more calm-minded among us, such as myself, this proved more and more difficult with time. One would expect for the flock to lose interest quickly, but they never appeared to grow bored. Perhaps they weren't even capable of boredom? I knew very little about such creatures, just the fact that while they were capable of speech and communication, they lacked the intelligence to build cities or utilize even the crudest of technologies.

"We aren't retreating. We're gathering more allies." Samson grumbled. He was a frequently tight-lipped individual, and very good at ignoring unpleasantness (a trait negative people are forced to adopt, as unpleasantness can easily be found by them wherever they might look), but it seemed that his patience had reached its limits.

"More corpses, you mean." Another bird said. Maybe. It was exceedingly difficult to tell them apart. All of the strange, pudgy creatures seemed to share a voice, and were all of the same size and general appearance. None showed any clear signs of being old or young, male or female, or showed any hints of varying status or authority. None of them even bore so much as a scar or identifying mark which could have been used to aid in differentiating them. "I'm sure they will appreciate the aid, however. Your methods will be much more efficient than theirs."

The green garbed mouse swept a bare paw towards the nearby avian, and it let out an annoyed squawk as tendrils of electricity flew through its feathers, forcing it to fly away. Well, a few lengths away, anyways. While the spell might have been far from lethal to the creatures, it is clearly quite unpleasant, with the broad area of effect proving to be quite convenient as well. It still only posed a mild annoyance to the bird, and it was simply one of very many. At first they kept their distance, but as their numbers grew, eventually outnumbering our own band, they similarly grew bolder, regularly hopping alongside our group to stare at us with those beady black eyes, and taunt with those unnatural voices, musical yet entirely lacking in any sort of emotion or inflection.

"Haven't you creatures anything more important to do?" Sellas asked a nearby one. She wore the usual smile and warm expression, but faint cracks of impatience were visible within it.

"We could ask you the same." It replied. "You have a far greater destiny, do you not? You are to lead your followers into oblivion. That is your true purpose."

Some of the nearby cultists frowned and raised their clubs, not that they could do much with them. They knew from experience that the birds were too swift, and their own skills too lacking. They were immediately calmed by the infectious attitude of their leader, however, for whom even the fainted hints of frustration and impatience had already melted away.

"You are very much mistaken." The woman said. "I lead no one. We are all simply travelers upon the same road."

"And what of the coming oblivion?" the bird asked, in its same expressionless yet inquisitive tone.

"It comes for all of us, in due time." Sellas responded, simply.

The small round bird tilted its head rather severely to one side, studying the woman closely before finally replying with. "Indeed, it does."

I, personally, had trouble making any real sense of these creatures. They laughed often, but it sounded hollow and joyless. They were curious, but didn't really seem to seek any knowledge or, well, anything else for that matter. They came off as dim and unintelligent, yet could speak eloquently, often seeming to read your very thoughts. I had increasingly wondered about that last part, as a large group had crowded around me. I expected some manner of insult or other hazing, but instead they did something which was almost worse: They silently stared, unblinking with those round, black eyes. At first I was relieved that they said nothing, but the silent judgement wore on me more than I had anticipated, until I couldn't help but speak up. Perhaps that was their goal all along, and they knew that it was the best way to get to me. Still, I just couldn't stop myself.

"What is it? What do you want?" I angrily shouted, not even bothering to look at any specific creature, as more and more I got the impression that they are all the same, perhaps even literally.

"You are empty. Hollow." One behind me said. I, again, didn't turn to face it, as I suspected that it hardly mattered which one I spoke to. "Not as much as you would like to be, however. Have you met the river man?"

"What? No, I don't know any 'river man'. I've never even been to a river before." I said. From atop the higher hills, one was visible in the distance, but it had been running parallel to our direction of travel. It was still questionable as to whether our direction of travel truly lead anywhere, of course, but Sellas seemed confident, and it wasn't as though anyone else has any better ideas of where to go. I similarly had no idea why I was continuing to engage with these creatures. Perhaps I was just scared of returning to those silent, judgmental stares.

"That isn't true. Even now you dip your toes into the waters, but never twice." Another bird replied. You wouldn't know it were a different one from tone alone, only the direction of its voice signaled this fact. "It seems you are correct, however. You have never met him. All the better. He is your most hated of enemies. He seeks to destroy the very road you are building."

"Really? Why would he do that?" Annabelle asked, approaching. While the many birds had put everyone else on edge, to varying degrees (well, aside from Dave, of course, but then his general role within the group was increasingly becoming the exception that proved the rule), she didn't appear to be the least bit unnerved. Quite the contrary, in fact, were I to guess. I suppose it made sense. She was a bard, and therefore all about accumulating new experiences to write songs about. I couldn't help but feel like this went beyond a professional interest, though. As we traveled, she often had her head raised, smiling as she took in all of the scents and sounds, relishing all of them, even when repetitive or downright offensive.

"Because he thinks that he can build a better road. Or perhaps the same sort of road, only to a better destination. Or mayhap it is merely the obsession with building in itself that drives him. The river man seeks to go somewhere new, whereas you..." a bird said, before another near by continued the thought, "Seek to retread the same old grounds, unwilling to leave so much as a footprint."

At first I was confused, but it didn't take long to figure out. It was that last bit that had resonated with me. "You're saying that I'm unwilling to make my mark on history, right?" I said. Maybe I was just projecting my own attitudes, but it had suddenly clicked. The image of history as a vast and endless road spanning infinitely in both directions. Something plain yet pure and immaculate. Something I had no desire to corrupt in the slightest. Where did the 'river' fit into it, though? Were rivers just another form of road? Maybe. Or maybe it was just avian nonsense. Maybe all of this was.

"Indeed. Both you and the river man treat the eternal as brittle and subject to your whims. While he strives to burn brightly, you seek to fade away." a nearby creature narrowed its eyes. "Ah yes, you have met him, and yet you haven't. Many times yet none at all. Upon different paths and differing worlds, all ground to dust by his misguided efforts. Still, he continues to travel, and who knows? Maybe through his efforts, the road will one day turn, just the slightest bit. Maybe it already has."

I paused, deep in thought, considering how to respond. Whether I even should have responded. Whether these creatures were truly listening and even if they were, whether they had anything to say which I cared to hear. Still, as a writer, it felt wrong to let a conversation simply die without resolution, even if it was an unpleasant one. Was it even unpleasant? It felt as though they were trying to insult me, but the more that I thought about it, the less offended I felt.

"You're right." I finally said. "I am hollow. I want to be hollow. I want to be here, yet not, to see without interacting. That's my dream." I couldn't help but smile a little. "Therefore, I choose to take your words as a compliment."

I wasn't sure what I had expected of them. It certainly wasn't a simple nod of their heads, multiple birds making the gesture at once, and the words. "As you should. Life is much easier when you take everything as a compliment."

I blinked in confusion, looking to them, trying to figure out what their goal was, what the point of any of that was. Either way, the creatures seemed to have lost interest in me. I noticed that they had regularly crowded around Annabelle. I had been making a point to keep my distance from the bard, lest her profession's habitual historical inaccuracy rub off on me, and could not quite hear the conversation as a result. Judging from her expression and barely overheard tone, she seemed to be enjoying it. My general impression was that the blind musician, even if easily intimidated and depressed by the crowds of the city, was a lonely girl, and eager to engage in any manner of conversation. It was enough to make me feel sympathy for the bard. Well, almost.

Jebediah went ignored by the birds, however. No, that wasn't quite true. They said not a word to him, but made a point to keep their distance and occasionally cast him nasty looks, easily recognizable even on their alien and largely expressionless faces. I failed to see why they would have harbored any sort of grudge towards the farmer. He hadn't attacked or shouted at them, hadn't even snubbed them, having no chance to, and none of the creatures had spoken so much as a single word to mouse. Dave was similarly ignored, but without that undercurrent of hostility. The creatures instead behaved as though the strange, silent mouse weren't there at all. A good deal of their attention was focused on the cultists, and not only because they made up the vast majority of our numbers. While their leader might have shrugged off any jabs or jokes at her expense, it wasn't so easy for her followers to stand idly by as the high priestess was being disrespected before their eyes.

"Away with you!" An angry young robed man shouted, clumsily swinging a quarterstaff in the direction of a small group of the birds, all of whom effortlessly back-stepped out of the weapons reach. I had yet to get the name of the young cultist, as they rarely spoke to anyone outside of their own community. "We won't be waylaid by soulless beasts!"

"You say we lack souls? Implying that your kind does not? That is most interesting." A bird chirped in response. "Most interesting, indeed. For a holy man, you are surprisingly ignorant when it comes to matters of faith. Perhaps that is the point? Truth and lies hold no differences in the eyes of the faithful, after all."

This story has been unlawfully obtained without the author's consent. Report any appearances on Amazon.

The robed mouse was clearly struggling to come up with a clever comeback, only to find himself silenced by the raised paw of Sellas. "That is correct. Truth and lies don't matter. There is only obedience and service. It is not for us to define what is truth, as only the Starman can do that. We are simply followers of His will, and His will is that we must destroy the agents of the Devourer who march upon our kingdom."

Upon hearing a single word, all of the birds froze, their many heads and blackened eyes turned to the head priestess. "The Devourer..."

The permanently tranquil expression of the old mouse (I thought she was old, anyways. Even after traveling together, it was oddly difficult to tell) gave way to one of curiosity. "You know of the Devourer?" she asked. Clearly based on their reaction, the term had resonated with the strange beings.

"The existence eater, The great brood-mother, who only births itself, consuming all else." All of the birds replied at once. I shivered, uncertain of whether it was due to the strange chorus of monotone avian voices that unnerved me, or that even stranger, blunt description. I was no believer in such matters, but it was still a disturbing concept. "Are you truly the enemies of the Devourer?"

The dark grey furred priestess gave a light nod, her eyes locked upon the nearest bird. "Indeed. There is very little I can say about myself or this world for certain, but of that? Of that, there is no doubt."

The small, pudgy birds all crowded around her, ignoring their other conversations and general birdlike activities to stare deeply at Sellas. If this made her even the least bit uncomfortable, she certainly didn't show it.

"You speak the truth." One finally said.

"Very well." Another followed, "It would seem that we share a common enemy. We shall meet again, very soon."

At that word, all at once the flock took to the air, vanishing from sight with surprising swiftness. Me and the other mice all stood, dumbfounded for a for moment. Finally, it was up to our brave leader to take the reins on things, as was his job. "Huh. That was weird." He said, shaking his head. Not exactly the most eloquent of commandments, but I doubt his words inspired much disagreement from anyone else. They certainly didn't from me.

"I suspect that they are rather simple creatures at heart." Sellas said, "That isn't necessarily such a bad thing. An unclouded mind is open to the natural way of things. It may not understand much, but it knows what is truly important."

Jebediah simply shrugged, clearly having no desire to argue. I wasn't sure whether he had disagreed or not, as frankly, he barely seemed the sort who was capable of disagreeing, instead simply content that the current situation had been more-or-less resolved. On that, at least, I agreed with him. The only one who didn't seem to was Annabelle, who appeared to genuinely miss the strange beasts, but as we continued on our way, she quickly found solace in her music, which did a lot to ease our spirits. All things considered, it wasn't a violent attack or traumatic experience, but it was unsettling, nonetheless.

It was some time later that the violent attack had occurred. There was a loud, echoing crack, and Meryll fell to the ground. She raised a paw to her metal helmet, seemingly dazed, withdrawing the gloved hand it to reveal a new and rather deep dent in the helms surface. Had the metal been just a little bit thinner, I shudder to think what would have happened. Before we could even react, there were two more bangs, each tearing up a cloud of dirt at our feet. We were under attack. We'd been maintaining a regular watch, namely for wandering dark lords, but still keeping a steady eye on all directions, yet none of us could determine exactly where our opponents had been striking from.

<3~

Beep.

"I know I have to compensate for the wind. I don't need you to tell me that." Gwendolynne, the platinum angel grumbled to her co-general, Vania. She had lain across the short grass, holding a long pipe-like rifle within her paws, head rested against the side of the weapon. The strange glass lens of her artificial eye served as a scope with which she targeted the distant mouse soldiers, as she fired once again with a loud blast and the venting of steam from either side of the extended metal barrel.

Beep.

"I'm not blaming the gun! I'm the one who made it, after all!"

Beep.

"Ugh, just... let me concentrate here. Nobody likes a backseat sniper." the half cyborg mouse sighed, refocusing herself.

Unknown to us, the pair of enemy spies, or enemy tourists as they had colorfully called themselves, had not regrouped with their main force, but had, instead, been tracking us all along. Perhaps they had taken our refusal to back down in response to their parting threat personally. Perhaps we were just considered a greater threat than before due to our bolstered numbers. Perhaps they had only chosen to spare us before because a full on assault with their small forces within the walls of the city was far too risky. Regardless of their motivations, it was clear that they had decided that we had lived for long enough, and they were very much eager to resolve that fact.

This posed a pretty serious problem for us, since we didn't even have so much as an archer within our group, not that a bow would have done much good against an opponent striking well outside of our visual range.

<3~

It was uncertain whether it was an impressive feat of perception, or sheer dumb luck. Likely the second. While everyone was scrambling to figure out what was even happening, Samson tackled the blind bard, who was more confused than anyone, just as another burst of dirt flew up right where she had been standing moments before. "Everyone, get down and try to find some sort of cover!" he called.

Uninjured by the first shot, her helmet having done its job, Meryll rolled back up onto her feet, planting her heavy body shield down into the soil, which Jebediah and a few of the cultists joined her in ducking in behind. She had also made a point to seize Dave by the shoulder and yank him behind the cover as well, since he was simply standing out in the open, nodding in response to Samson's command.

As for everyone else, the grass was rather tall which obscured vision somewhat, but it was certainly not strong enough to stop a bullet. Beyond that, it was a wide open plain, with no shelter or clear landmarks within sight. All that they could do was huddle down in places that they couldn't see through, hoping that they'd be similarly invisible to their unseen attacker. I was one of these poor folks.

There were regular loud crashes, each of which would tear up the earth where it had struck, clearly with enough force to cause pretty serious, if not lethal damage to any mouse who happened to find themselves in the path of the projectile. A few were, and for the rest of us, the rain of the strange ammunition continued to strike with increasing accuracy, two shots missing me by less than a length each. Meryll's shield held, the wood not being as strong as her metal helm, but making up for that fact with thickness, but we had no way to scout out the location of the enemy without putting ourselves in serious danger, and even if we could, somehow, figure out where the shots were coming from, well, what exactly could we have done about it?

<3~

An awkward, tense silence followed between the two cybernetically enhanced siblings. They, of course, weren't the only mice atop the hilltop, but the two dozen plus lower ranked soldiers, shrouded in their green robes and hoods stood back, knowing better to get involved with the conflict to follow.

"What?" Gwen growled, her one exposed eye narrowing. "What is it?"

Beep.

"You didn't have to say anything, I know you were thinking it!"

Beep.

"How is not voicing the opinions that are so clearly and blatantly on your mind being polite?"

Beep.

"I didn't say that you weren't allowed to think." Gwendolynne sighed. Another beep followed. "Oh, please." the half robotic woman huffed, for the briefest of moments rolling her natural eye back at the box headed mouse.. "That's a blatant misinterpretation of my words, and you know it."

Another tense silence followed, at least verbally silent. The repeated blasts from the rifle are far from silent, after all. This 'silence' doesn't last long, either.

"Hi!" A cheerful voice called from behind them. At this the gunshots stopped, as both the generals and their foot soldiers turned to face their new company. It was a flock of brown birds with pitch black eyes, their short, yellow beaks somehow curved into wicked smiles. A sea of feathers, squawking, yellow footed claws, not to mention lots and lots of pecking immediately followed.

<3~

"What happened?" Samson said, still panting. "Why did they stop shooting?"

He held some concern at the time that the break was simply to encourage them to further expose themselves, but he had dismissed that idea quickly. A few exceptions aside, they were already largely exposed. There was nothing to be gained from remaining there, and very much to lose, so when he called for everyone to run, no one hesitated to follow. From there we kept running, having no idea if their enemy might be giving chase, or just how far away they could strike from. There was still the legitimate concern that we could be overtaken, but we couldn't run forever. All of us needed rest, some, like myself, much more than others.

"Maybe they ran out of arrows?" Meryll said, looking back behind her, a disappointed expression visible under her visor. At the time she hadn't argued and certainly hadn't hesitated to follow, but it was clear that she had very mixed feelings about retreating from an enemy, any enemy, no matter how advantageous their position.

"What are arrows?" The blind bard asked. Samson, at this point seemed to remember that he was still holding the woman uncomfortably close, and pushed her away. Not too roughly, of course. While I will grudgingly admit that she was a talented musician, and not as irritating as most of her kind, she was very much unsuited to deal with that sort of situation, and the one-eyed mouse was quite gracious, bordering on uncharacteristically brave in guiding her to safety. She had even managed to keep up with the run, bafflingly, considering that walking at normal speed, she could barely manage ten steps without falling. As for the one-eyed mouse, as necessary as his actions may have been, he showed a shyness even less characteristic than his bravery, blushing faintly at the earlier close contact. Annabelle didn't seem to respond in kind, seemingly thinking nothing of the intimately close grasp. Dave had similarly needed to be taken by the arm, and similarly kept pace without issue. There was no matching awkwardness as he was released once the party had stopped, however.

"I don't believe so." Sellas said, similarly panting, responding to Meryll rather than Anne. The older woman generally did a very good job of keeping herself composed, but even she looked rather graceless after the unexpected forced sprint. Four of her followers were injured, one of which was shot in the head. Okay, technically it was through the ear, but that sounds far less dramatic. Her injuries, much like the others, didn't appear to be too serious, the other hits mercifully little more than grazes which were being bandaged and respectively treated by the weak healing magics of the congregation. "Something must have happened." the high priestess continued.

"We distracted the minions of the Devourer, in order to aid in your escape." A new yet familiar voice said. We all turned to see the flock of birds standing within the grass nearby. None of us got a chance to specifically see which of the birds had spoken up, but it seemed that everyone understood that it hardly mattered.

Most of us, myself included, wanted to ask why, but it would seem that the priestess understood immediately. With a soft smile and a gentle nod of her head, she simply said "Thank you. All of you."

"Don't thank them." The unexpected voice of our leader interjected.

Everyone turned to him, the birds included, the feathered creatures glaring at him with a strange hostility.

"Where are the rest of you?" Jebediah asked, his expression one of cold anger. An expression I don't believe I'd ever seen on the man before, and couldn't say that I much cared for, either. The question also felt like a strange one to me. There were an awful lot of the birds here, around thirty, I would have guessed. I saw no evidence that there were more here before, even if I hadn't thought to count. Even if there were, they're birds. They had probably just flown away. The farmers face and oddly intense eyes told a much different story, however. They implied that, somehow, he already knew the answer to his question, and was simply waiting for the birds to admit their... guilt?

"Two of our kind perished at the hands of the strange weapons of the blasphemers." One of the birds, not one in the front of the crowd answered, its voice unpleasantly calm and even, given the subject matter. "You should be grateful."

"The hell I should be grateful!" Jeb growled, before seemingly catching himself, his expression turning to one of mild anxiety. "Oops, apologies for the harsh language." He paused briefly, regaining his steely expression, even if it was not quite as firm as before.

"You were all pinned down. Had the situation carried on to its inevitable conclusion, you would have all died." another bird said, all of them still studying the thin mouse warily.

"You don't know that." The farmer said, "And even if that's true, what gives you the right to sacrifice yourselves?"

"Right? We do not require your permission, rodent." A hint of anger was heard within the usual avian monotone. "We act as we see fit, based on our own beliefs. Once again, you should simply be grateful that those worked out in your favor."

"How did this work out in my favor? Sure, I'll admit it, things were looking pretty dicey back there, and I didn't exactly have a plan, either. What I do know, however, is that because of your actions, two people are dead, and it's like you don't even care!" Jebediah balled his paws into fists. I was quite surprised at how personally he seemed to be taking this. Then again, I was surprised that he had even noticed the two missing birds. It was my job to document these events and focus on the details, yet he had observed something which I had not.

"Oblivion comes for us all, in time." A bird at the front said, a dark eye turning towards the priestess who had since regained her breath. "How we choose to face such oblivion is for us to decide."

"You're wrong. On two levels." The plain looking farmer said, sighing deeply, anger seemingly forgotten, replaced with disappointment. "Well, I suppose largely the same level, now that I think about it. Sacrificing yourself isn't a noble thing. Dying to save another still means someone is dead, only now, someone else is unfairly burdened by the sacrifice. I get that you see those other mice as your enemies, and that means you must now see us as your allies. I understand that. I appreciate that. Greatly."

The birds still looked to him, warily, clearly not understanding.

"Maybe I never asked for this, and maybe I don't deserve this, but I'm the leader of this group, and it's my responsibility when soldiers die." He sighed once more, raising his lowered head. "That's what it means to be in an army. Maybe people will die sometimes. I suppose it's inevitable, once in a while, but when you're part of a unit, your life isn't just your own. It belongs to everyone, and when you throw it away? You're not just depriving yourself of it. You're depriving everyone."

"And who says we are part of this 'army' of yours?" one of the small, round avians scoffed.

"I did. Now, don't get me wrong, I get it. You're not like us. You think differently. You behave differently. You have different priorities. Maybe, earlier, you just acted on a whim, and while that doesn't make it okay, I sort of understand it. Maybe in a few minutes you'll just fly away, when something else catches your fancy. However, if you choose to keep fighting our enemies, and protecting my kind." Jebediah looked about at the other surprised mice, "Well, so far as I'm concerned, that makes you my soldiers, and as my soldiers, you, none of you, have permission to die unnecessarily."

What followed was a series of avian chuckles. "Do you really think that a creature like you has the right to command us?"

"Well, I s'pose that's for you to decide." The farmer says, his earlier disappointment rapidly fading, and his regular, pleasant diction re-emerging. "Like I said, you can all just leave if you want. I don't like how you've burdened us by spilling blood on our behalf, but hey, I guess if we're not allies, you don't owe us any favors. You guys seem to like being mean, and I guess that can be considered another act of spite. But yeah, if you're going to stay, I won't hesitate to command you, especially if that means preventing you from dying foolishly. So what'll it be?" He said, his eyes once more flashing with anger. "You'll either follow my orders or you, all of you, will get out of my sight right now."

There was more silence, as the birds looked to one another, their empty eyes all finally falling upon Sellas. Most of us were rather shocked and did little to hide it, but she stood casually with a soft smile and a relaxed expression. "Why are you looking at me? As I told you, I am just another follower on the road. He, over there, is the leader, and the one you must answer to."

I couldn't help but feel relieved by the statement. As for the other cultists, they looked to the priestess with surprise, but none dared to raise any objections. Her word was absolute, after all, even if, especially if, she said that the word of someone else was absolute. As for the birds, they looked to the once more aloof farmer, their black eyes seemingly burning with rage, but despite their apparent seething hate, these were the words that had followed.

"Very well. Commander." Many birds spoke at once, adding a little extra venom to that last word, no easy task considering how lacking in expression their voices tended to be. As for Jebediah, he offered a gentle smile which his new soldiers didn't even come close to returning, and began to walk ahead. He was the leader, after all, and we had rested for more than long enough, especially considering that our enemies were potentially trailing close behind.

And so our forces grew both dramatically and unexpectedly. Another batch of religious fanatics, who held no weapons and made no effort to mask their hostility towards our leader. On paper, it should have been a recipe for disaster, but clearly the farmer was unworried, and looking to him, it was hard to not feel the same. We may have indirectly taken our first casualties, but we had grown stronger in the process. As for the birds, they might not like it, but I felt in his own strange way, Jebediah had, against all odds, won over their respect and, more importantly, their loyalty.