The night was cold. Colder than any Caleb had ever experienced. His side throbbed dully, his burned skin numb as he raced across the plains alongside the brigadiers, all in total silence.

He didn’t want to be here. But there was nothing waiting for him back with the others. He couldn’t help.

A healing skill would’ve come in real handy, he thought. He ignored it and continued forwards, staying near the back of the pack as he maintained the same pace as the brigadiers. They’d sped up slightly at the word of Master Patricia, but taken a curved route, meant to take them around the fleeing group of cultists.

The group was too small to manage a full-frontal assault against the numbers they’d just faced. But they were faster, especially Sierra, Eriana, and Caleb.

If they made it around, then they could cut the cultists off before they even reached the mountains, cut down the leaders with the crystals, grab them, then book it.

That was the gist of the plan anyway. Caleb wasn’t so certain it was anything more than a hail Mary. The last hopes of an optimistic leader in the face of doomsday. But he kept his mouth shut. There was no point arguing with the Brigadiers. Not now, and especially not when he’d chosen to come. It’s not like he had a better plan either.

He glanced back at the now distant fire, then forward to the ever nearing mountains. They were large, overbearing as they grew higher and higher into the night sky swallowing stars. It was less a distant sight now, more an overwhelming testament to the grandiosity of nature.

The red marker hovered within the mountains, closer to the ground than to its heights.

His dread grew with every second that he neared it, his heart telling him to turn back already. But he continued onwards, glancing occasionally to the focused faces of Sierra and Eriana. They stared ahead, ready as they ran, easily keeping up with the brigadiers pace.

He could admire the quality somewhat.

The sheer and utter determination in the face of despair. Sierra had barely hesitated after Master Patricia had called for the Brigadiers to leave. She’d left, her mind focused on her duty to help people she barely knew.

He didn’t understand how she’d done it, how she’d left her friends behind like that, even if the situation had called for it. He guess, he’d left too. Though he didn’t feel anywhere near as confident as the others looked.

He turned back to the front, his heart pounding as they grew closer and closer to the mountain. They were in a fall in the grass now, the ground here less even, the gras covered dirt rising and falling like waves that pressed against them, slowing them down bit by bit.

A large hill curved upwards to their side, blocking their view of the path the cultists had taken. From here, he couldn’t sense anything. Not even a whisper of the magical. He couldn’t tell whether it was Anya, the brigadier traitor, or just the distance. It was driving him insane.

They continued on, picking up a burst of speed as they descended down the incline of a hill. Only the breaths of the brigadiers, the clank of Master Patricia and another’s a

[Is the marker near?] Patricia said, glancing to him. He looked to it, the red beacon, glowing only in his vision above a now not so distant point in the mountains.

He nodded.

Without a word, the grey haired brigadier gestured left. The group turned, curving around as they began to make their way back towards the cultists path, trudging slower now up the side of a rising hill.

Caleb’s eyes widened as they curved over the hill. The path ahead of them was mostly flat, before it smoothed upwards into an incline and merge with the base of the mountains. And the path ahead was empty. They’d really arrived before the cultists.

He heard the breaths of relief from the four brigadiers and then

[Over there!] Eriana called out, pointing to a decently opening, surrounded by cultists. The group turned to look at them but before anyone could do anything, a bright slash of blue cut across the air, Eriana’s magic soaring with a ferocity. It struck above the opening, and large chunks of rock crumbled down, crushing the cultists as they cried out. As the dust settled, only splatters of blood and rock remained, the opening sealed.

[Well done] Patricia said, turning to her.

[Is that’s it? Do we win?] Eriana said.

“No message yet” Sierra said.

[Then we stay. Fight to reclaim the rubies] Patricia said. [There may still be an entrance we’re unaware of.]

They slowed to a stop and glanced back to the rolling hills behind them. In the distance, under the darkness of the night he could see the silhouette of a great mass of people rushing forwards.

“That’s them, isn’t it?” he mumbled.

[Yes] a brigadier said, tone serious.

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“There’s a lot” Sierra mumbled.

[We’re stronger] Valyre replied. But there was a lack of certainty in her voice, and she glanced to Patricia unnerved. Patricia noticed her look, along with the looks of the others, all filled with anxiety. She sighed, then drew her weapon, a greatsword, from its sheath on her back.

[I know this will not be easy, but we were made for hard times] she said, her voice even, calm. [If we fail, lose, then the world as we know it is over. This calamity, Arithor… it isn’t something we can defeat. We can hold off for a while, give a final warning to the Kings and Queens of the empire, and pray the gods save us. But it’s clear to me they do not want this beast loose.]

She glanced to the Caleb, Sierra, and Eriana. Caleb gulped, feeling the weight of her words.

[So we fight. And thank you, for fighting with us] she said with a sincere nod. [The Gods bless us, and we serve]

[The Gods bless us and we serve] the others repeated, making a gesture over their face. With that they turned back to the steadily approaching crowd, the fallen rocks still steaming behind them.

There was a moment of silence between everyone, and Caleb could feel the tension growing with each second, the torturous sense of foreboding like a sharpened knife hovering over your eye.

He twisted his sword’s hilt in his hand and squeezed the hold of his shield. He could sense them now, the crowd of cultists, led by two incredibly powerful s, their mana like a wave, slowly curving over the hill in front of them.

His hands shook, his breaths growing quicker. He wasn’t ready, but there was nowhere else.

The cultists had begun to appear over the hill

[Akaelson, you’re our only long range attacker, remain here]

[Yes Master] the two said in unison.

[Set, Valyre… I’m sorry. You’re with me. We’ll charge together. Aim for Anya first, then Dion]

The younger brigadier nodded, his face pale. Finally, Patricia turned to Caleb and the others.

[Godchildren, I don’t deign to command you, but I’d hope you could join us in the fray. Your help would be appreciated]

[We’ll join you] Eriana said, glancing to the other two. Caleb looked to the two girls, and together they shared a nod. Patricia nodded, offering a smile.

[Let’s go then]

Together they jogged down the hill, Patrica trailing behind the group. She stabbed her sword into the ground, dragging it from the rocks to the base with them, as Akaelson found a perch.

Then with an impossible strength, her magic warped and she slammed her fist against the line she’d cut. The ground shook and broke apart into large crooked and uneven stone, cutting off a direct pathway from the base to the rocks over the opening where Valyre and Akaelson stood. The path upwards was difficult now. Practically impossible for a normal person.

Caleb gulped, then looked back to the far closer crowd of cultists. They’d slowed to a stop, the group following behind a younger woman in leather brigadier armour and an older man in the full cultist garb.

[We don’t have to do this Master!] the younger woman, Anya, shouted. [This whole mess can end if you let us into those caves]

[No!] Master Patricia roared. [This ends here!]

And in an instant the battle was on, Patrica and Set rushing forwards, with Caleb, Sierra, and Eriana alongside them. The cultists rushed forward in a horde, silent, as the old man’s body turned into flame. Slashes of blue shot forwards from Eriana’s blade, cutting across the crowd and then they met.

Caleb’s blade was quick, Sierra’s quicker and Eriana’s made of pure power. He cut and slashed alongside the others. He hated that it’s had taken only a moment for him to forget the humanity of his enemies once again. But no matter how much he hated it, he’d chosen to be here. And he had a mission to do.

Thundering booms from fire and Patricia’s strength shaking the battlefield. But like before the cultists were many, overwhelming the five of them as their numbers forced them apart.

But unlike before, not all were moving to attack, some simply rushing past to the broken ground, those that reached helping each other to scale the rocks like a well-oiled machine. Suddenly a wave of fire engulfed half of them. Caleb glanced up to see Akaelson’s magic shifting as another large fireball grew in front of his hand.

But even with the blasts of fire, there were still many slowly scaling the broken ground, the unity the cultist fought with surprisingly effective.

Caleb cursed and fought desperately to get back. But the crowd fought against him, fighters turning to force him back as more and more rushed past.

[Alert - A non-selected has attempted to use dangerous and direct altering magic on you. The effect has been temporarily nullified.]

[Because of the quality of your record the effect cannot be permanently nullified. Please find a safe area.]

His eyes widened as he looked around, then spotted Anya charging towards him. Altering magic. Like Patricia had said, the kind that affected the sense. Its why the cultists fought so differently. If he got her, then the union of the cultists ended.

Maybe I won’t have to kill anyone else.

Instantly he leapt through the crowd with a shout. Anya froze in shock, before raising her sword to protect herself as cultists dashed to her aid. With a ridiculous speed her cut through them, knocking her sword from her hand and slicing through her fingers with ease. She cried out and for a second the crowd froze, then they all turned to him.

Shit.

He jumped as they swarmed him, swords stabbing from all directions. He fought to stay above them, cutting and slashing as he leapt back, the same message appearing in his vision over and over again.

[Alert - A non-selected has attempted to use dangerous and direct altering magic on you. The effect has been temporarily nullified.]

He could feel his movements slowing down, some of the swords cutting at his now burning feet and ankles. His shoes had come off at some point, and he’d lost his shield.

His mind felt weary now, weaker and weaker as bit by bit, something began to shift. He stumbled, falling to the floor slightly beyond the bounds of the battle, as more cultists rushed to him. He fell to one knee, the broken stone harsh against his skin as he coughed, his side throbbing terribly hard as his heart pounded, cuts covering his lower legs.

What am I doing here again?

Suddenly a shout echoed out.

[They’ve got the rubies! Please! Go!] Master Patricia roared. [We’ll hold them off!]

Rubies?

He looked up and behind him, spotting Anya rush down the now clear opening into the mountains, Akaelson nowhere in sight. Hundreds of cultists followed after her, and some stopped in front of the opening, weapons raised.

Suddenly Eriana, covered in blood cut through them in a single deranged swing. She kicked others out of the way, then charged inside. Caleb looked around, his head pounding.

Right, he thought, the rubies. The world ending rubies.

Without a second thought, he pushed himself up, and barrelled towards the opening, cutting down cultists as he rushed into the tunnel of brick and stone.