“The Sabree, the Visgo, and the Volsung,” Avria said, grimacing in pain as Daniel wrapped her wound on the side of her stomach. “We’ll make them pay. I swear it.”
Daniel said nothing, only nodded and fumed while he wrapped her wounds. She had burns that reached from her left hip, up her side, and around her back. She had used her Dunamis to heal what she could, but her skill in the art was lacking, and Daniel had no idea of the complex art. Instead, he cleaned the wound and attempted to wrap it. Seeing she had no choice, she shed her torn ceremonial blouse so he could reach her damaged areas.
She was silent then, for a time, Daniel figured she was reliving the moments in the throne room in her head. She shuddered with anger and grief with each breath she took, and Daniel searched his mind for something to say. He’d been here before, consoling friends and brothers who had lost people close to them. He was never any good at it, but sometimes all people needed was someone to be there.
Daniel finished his work and helped her put her blouse back on. They had escaped, thanks to Gro’ak, to the edge of one of the surrounding forests, far enough away from the city that they would not be detected, and took some time to rest.
“So how did they switch sides without anyone getting wind of it?” he finally asked. “The Torre’ have spies in every clan for specifically this reason.”
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“I’m guessing they compartmentalized, keeping only those who needed to know informed. That with the sheer amount of disinformation they were clearly spewing,” she said, after a long pause. “Alektor must have allied with specific people in Volsung and Sabree. We knew about the Visgo, but the others… that was a surprise. I mean, the Sabree hate the Rexunii. They have hated them since the last war. They were invaded, and the Lokkadonians rode in to save them. It’s just… very unexpected.”
“Alektor must be a damn good politician,” Daniel said, checking what gear he had left. All they had were their weapons and Daniel’s bone breastplate, along with his shredded officer’s cloak. He looked at his hands, caked and matted with dried blue blood.
“We have to find my father,” she said. “If there is anyone who could rally the remaining lords of Lokkadonia, it’s him. We can’t rely on King Yomin to do anything. He’s a political puppet and terrified of the Rexunii.”
“So, we find him,” Daniel said,
Avria stood and turned to face Vul De Rah again, it’s once brilliant skyline an angry tear in the serene landscape. Smoke billowed from dozens of structures, and tears began to spill from her eyes.
Daniel followed her gaze and shook his head at the destruction. They took several long minutes of silence before Avria turned to him, her face now a mask of steely resolve.
“No matter what it takes, I will return,” she said, then turned her back on the smoldering city.
“Let’s go then,” Daniel said, before he took a deep breath and led her into the forest.
The End