According to the humans who came with the refugees, the main army was still four days out from Videlia. But that was a day past.

We will be cutting it mighty close.

The Imperial sent us with a hundred good men and women to fight for Videlia. He wanted to send more, but they couldn't be spared. He needs to see to his people's safety while Videlia sees to hers.

But he sent thirty Berserk, which will go a long way in fighting the dragons even now winging their way to battle. To death.

There are few words said as we travel on the Berserk. The Were and Shifters and Humans don’t break the silence hovering around me like a dark cloud.

I try to get back that peace I had while I held Barry and Jed... but, as I face a world without the one who made everything look brighter—hope wans.

Is everything I care for bound to die?

And yet, I cannot bring myself to regret the time spent in the presence of a man I greatly respected. Despite the pain, despite the brick laying on my chest… it was something I would do again.

And that surprises me.

I’m sorry, Roland, Cynic says softly, for once all snark and haughtiness absent from his voice.

“Yeah. Me too,” I mumble from my place on Henry’s head.

I pat Henry as he flaps his gigantic ears. He's a gentle soul. Henry is the first Berserk I met, and the one who took me to the Werecat’s village what feels like a lifetime ago.

It was only a few months past, if that, but much has changed.

I’m not the same person who was taken, near-death, from Videlia and into these mountains.

I couldn’t have imagined a battle with Werecats could’ve led to good. Could’ve led to meeting the Imperial, Shefa Bridge, Nova and her little rascals—and yes, even Flash. So many who accepted me, even after learning who and what I truly was.

Who protected Barry and Jed, kept them safe while I was away and trained them with the weapons I’d given.

I surrendered to the Allfather in those hills, found pieces of myself I thought lost, and lost pieces of myself I thought I’d gained.

And I lost more than a father up there. I lost a confident. A friend. A man this world would be darker without.

The white-barked trees of these mountains streak by at the speed we travel, sometimes being replaced by sheer cliffs as we navigate trails through tight caverns, past forests and plateaus, and right on the edge of cliffs on trails that zigzag down the mountain face. Puffy clouds dot the clear winter sky high above as the frigid air bites a little less as we travel ever further down the mountains and into the plains and wood surrounding Videlia.

I’m glad I was unconscious for most of the first trip up these mountains.

I have done many idiotic and crazy things in my lifetime, not the least of which was breaking into the Emperor's own suite to leave him a note after killing his right-hand man and jumping from his palace to the cliff face behind the grand castle in the Capitol.

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But even climbing up the sheer face of rock while men shot arrows from below did not compare to this.

The Berserk take mountain passes on the edge of cliffs fit for maybe five horses abreast… but they are beasts as big as an elephant, if not larger.

There is no way they should fit on these ledges, but somehow, they don’t even bat an eye, even when their legs slip.

The break-neck pace the Berserk keep is a testament to whatever Gift flows through their veins, but the biggest credit I must give is how they stay on tiny ledges and still continue as if they were on smooth ground.

Every once in a while, one will knock rocks down into the cliff at our left, the rocks tumbling down and busting against ground a mile, or more, below.

I don’t look down after that.

I look back as Zephora traverses the Berserk as if she stood on solid ground.

Some sort of jerky is in her hand, and I turn my head away, the sight of food alone making my stomach ache with hunger and bile burn at the back of my throat all at once. I can’t eat. Not yet.

“Please, Roland. You must,” she says, keeping a respectful distance, but I see her hands curl into white-knuckled fists at my stubbornness.

“Did it hurt you to say please?” I say, no emotion in my voice, although I try to smile. The joke falls flat.

Tough crowd, Cynic says.

Zephora sighs, dropping the hand from her hip and sitting beside me. We watch the rising of the sun as it sends hues of reds, golds, and purples streaking across the bold blue skies.

“I didn’t realize what change you would bring when you first came,” she says, her mouth set into a thin line. She cuts her eyes over at me. “You were a half-dead wolf. I almost put you out of your misery.”

I huff what could almost be an amused breath, but still do not look at her.

“I am glad I didn’t.”

“I think that’s the nicest thing you’ve ever said to me,” I say, an almost smile trying to tip my lips.

She pushes my shoulder lightly, ignoring my flinch. “Don’t let it go to your head.”

She holds out the jerky, and I take it without thinking, biting down and chewing.

“Why did you not?”

“Hmmm?” she asks.

“Why did you not kill me?”

She sits a hand on her knee, gazing intently at the sun as if it holds the answers. “I don’t fully know. It would’ve been a mercy killing, an honourable death. And yet… there was something about you. Something that I knew would fight the hounds of Fifth if death tried to take you. I knew I had to bring you back, even if it was the last thing I did.”

She gives me that last piece of jerky, and I eat slowly, chewing as I think.

She gets up, wiping her hands on her trousers.

“Zephora?” She turns to look at me. “Thanks,” I say, saluting her with the meat.

But her small, sad smile says she knows I mean more than just the food.

“You're welcome. But don’t come running to me next time you get your ass kicked.”

I shake my head as she walks back to Flash, who perks up when he sees me eating.

I have won and I have lost.

But those I have met along the way are entirely worth it.

And now it is time to protect those who are counting on us.

I turn my eyes to Videlia and the coming battle. The Beast seethes, ready for war.

We crest a ridge, coming to a point that looks out over the hills and rolling plains of the Empire. Far into the distance, highlighted by the red of the sunrise, I can barely see the spires of the mountains behind the Capitol. Closer, I can make out the water around Greyston. And what seems like right below us is the octagonal shaped city I know as Videlia surrounded by a wall. I smile. David and his people have been busy.

Further out from the wall is a row of trees and marshy land that flattens into the Midlands after many miles.

I turn my eyes, squinting as the sun tries to blind me. I blink away dots in my vision, and there, far into the distance, are shapes. Shadows against the bright sun that look like tiny birds from here, but I know them for what they are. Dragons.

Videlia lay like a peaceful hamlet to my right while an army comes for her.

A large black and purple bruise on the plain spreads like a blanket below the dragons. The stain of darkness trickles from the Southern Plains into the Midlands, the massive army spreading like ants. Only 5,000 of the Empire's much larger force still down in Vralar.

But still too many for a city like Videlia to handle.

So much for hoping the Empire and Vralar would fight themselves into extinction.