19th of Firstleaf, third month of 984:

“Lady Woodgrown?!” Asked a farmer as he saw his governor rush to her mansion after going to retrieve her child and having been informed of what had occurred in the woods.

Paying him no mind, she continued to gallop, almost a run, damning her pride and position to oblivion. Reaching her mansion, and heavily breathing for air, she praised Elenia once seeing that the paladin was still there.

“I-I am incredibly sorry…for treating you with this unwonted disrespect!” Said between ragged breaths to a surprised undead, “My-my son told me everything and…. I couldn’t be more grateful to you!”

“No need for words of gratitude, I did what everyone would have done. But first, rest, Landowner.”

Nodding, she waited until her breathing quieted down and continued, “You saved my child, Paladin. That won’t change. Ask anything and I will do my utmost to procure it, no matter what.” The light in her eyes stressed the word, everything.

“Then I ask for nothing, my lady. I only want you to meditate on my request. Not as an order and not as a reward for something that is the right thing to do, but as a plea. I only desire for you to take the action that you feel that is necessary. By your own will, not by a sense of debt.” Finished Paladin.

That gave her pause. If she ran away today and left the village behind, she would surely be deployed later to the reconstruction efforts. Several new but different villages would pop out and a new governor would be elected. All of her work, her backroom dealings, her plots and pretensions of power would banish as the morning dew, never to return. She did not mind the dead, for she had forsaken them of her mind already but, her life’s work? She was getting old, doing it all again? Would she still have enough time to leave her dead soulmate’s son a worthy birthright?

Still, when she gazed back at the house her son was still resting after his night time adventure, her doubts melted away. She solemnly nodded and said, “So be it. We will evacuate.”

Relief turned evident in the body language of Paladin. Getting up, it said, “Then I will get to work. You won’t regret this decision, Landowner of the Woodgrown.”

The next three hours were spent on helping the locals get ready. While their animosity remained, they still prepared and carried their possessions into their carts.

Once they had started the march, Paladin sat against a nearby tree and a sigh of relief escaped from its metaphorical lips, not that it had exhaled either. After not enough time of observing the carts marching to Ice Garder, the sister of earlier revealed itself.

“What you did today could have destined our current task to failure.” Drily said.

“And yet, more than a hundred were saved.” Drily countered.

Shaking its head, the Sister changed topics. “We are to go back. Our task is voided. An ambush is in the planning and they will require our help.”

Doubt coming to the eyes that turned to look up to it, Paladin asked, “And the scouting party from the pirates?”

“We have already dealt with it.”

“Oh.”

In the newly formed convoy, a different conversation between a charmed little boy with newfound dreams of becoming a knight and a tired but happy mother made their trip more tolerable.

………….

Noct rested his quill on the table he had conjured and read his missive again, now getting off the chair and grovelling on the floor.

“High Paladin Sorak, I call for your aid one last time. Not as your lord nor as your commander nor regent, but as a commoner.

Two paths I can take before me and both would condemn Lady Soral to a future she does not deserve. Neither my death nor my imprisonment will clear her of doubt and suspicion and this request may amount to anything but harm you and the credibility others have in your faith, one I know is unshakable.

Yet here I find myself. Even if you rightfully hate me, even if I hate you, I beg of you, kneeling, grovelling, on the ground I should stand. Not for me, for my destiny is set on stone, only on halt until the Imperial Army arrives, but for Lady Soral.

I implore, save my sister.

Before I marched to war, I left on her a sigil of protection, more of a curse than anything. Your faith should dispel it upon contact, revealing everyone near her of my wrongdoings and my manipulations, giving you an excuse to defend her as possessed, controlled by me.

I have err, yes, but my mistakes aren’t her’s. I offer no payment, this action will give you no advantage nor benefit, it will put you in danger. Even more, and knowing all of this, I still ask this of you. Curse me, spit on my grave or whatever suits your fancy. The only thing she did wrong was continue to hope for a home, a family.

She does not deserve a criminal’s death.”

Rising up again, he folded the missive, filled it in an envelope, marked it with the crest of the Ashen and sended it with a nearby crow.

Once he finished, he left his tent and walked towards the site of reunion with his High Commanders before meeting the reinforcements.

…….

“Lord Noct.” Hailed Kraus and Lantraz. Andras simply nodded, consumed by worry, and Lady Maliz did not need to engage in such formalities.

“Are their orders legitimate?”

“My mages triple checked it, Lord Noct. They are a real missive.” Answered Kal.

“A forest ambush against an opponent four times our size.” Stated Noct, again, confidence lacking in his tone.

“Madness, but a madness they will not expect.” Answered Andras, his worry creeping in his voice while an unasked question extended its absence.

“The firepower of the Fenix Corps is that impactful. I am sure the reinforcements would be able to win alone.” Added Kraus.

“Not against the pirates. Against the peasant rabble and the low quality men at arms? Yes.” Rebated Maliz, “But, the islands’ men? They will need all the help we can offer them.” Turning to look at Noct, she asked the question everyone was thinking without so much as an ounce of tact. “Won’t you and your army run away before they arrive?”

“Will you be able to win without us?” Coldly counterasked Noct.

Maliz, taken aback by the implications of it, heatedly answered, “Are you blind, a fool, an oaf or the three? They aren’t an army you can manipulate with threats! They are the Empire’s finests! They will wipe all of your abominations without asking questions!”

“How many lives will be lost without our cooperation? Should you be defeated, how many more?” Intruded Lantraz, not knowing the full weight of its words nor the true dangers of the Fenix Corps.

“We are talking about you, undead! Staying will be your doom!”

“And not staying will be the doom of many more who cannot defend themselves.”

“You heard the fanatic. And, even if we leave, the prosecution will be the same. You will all talk and point after all, not that I would hold it against you.” Ended Noct.

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Maliz shut up, realising the hypocrisy of telling them to flee when she would be the first to lead the Fenix Corps on their prosecution.

“What will be the plan, Lord Noct?” Asked Andras, trusting that he had a reason behind his confidence. The answer broke that little hope he still had.

“My undead army will hold up a flank, prioritising the one the islands’ men will attack from. The Empire will hold the centre after piercing their lines in the ambush, I would expect. Maliz’s army could hold up the other flank while you act as a barrier between the Empire’s troops and us, as to limit the intentional friendly fire.”

“You hope to see the day of the battle?” Blurted out loud, Maliz.

Turning to look at her as if she were a kid, he preached, “And to win it. If the imperial commander is as idiotic as to destroy its own army before the battle, we have already lost. Trying to destroy two thousand will half us.”

“And if he still does?”

“They will run away before they arrive in earnest. We will be meeting their commander today, after all.”

“And y…”

Before she could end her question Noct, not wanting to waste more time, led the meeting to focus on preparing the ambush.

…………….

Trilus stood quietly on his raptor. His lack of action revealing the hesitation that the sight before him provoked in him. Accompanied by the leader of the fire corps, three of his knights and the leader of the first brigade of scouts, he faced the commitive of the last loyalists.

‘A noble clad in black armour, shoulder to shoulder with a common undead clad in white armour engraved in the sigils of my God?!’ He had yet to register the presence of both the human high commanders and the noble Lady, the heresy of it causing his blood to boil that was soon settled into confusion. ‘A common undead that can be dressed in the trappings of the faithful?’

“Lord Noct of the Ashen Household hails the High Commander of the Empire’s reinforcements!”

Still, neither fury nor confusion were a reason to forget formality. “High Commander Trilus, chief of the Marquisate’s Men at Arms, hails the army of the North!” The words left a sour after taste in his mouth. His hand quickly stopped the leader of the fire corps from launching a fire spell, making him shake his head to try to calm down both his emotions and the leader. Looking back at the undead by instinct, he asked to gauge the situation, “To….”

Before he could finish, Noct interrupted him, action that made the fenix corps’ leader’s eyes turn cold, his hand proceeding to the hilt of his weapon.

Not minding him, Noct engaged Trilus, “We have arrived as you called. Our troops may lack quantity but our will will fill the gaps.”

His knights preparing for combat and closing in on the leader to protect him from a possible surprise attack as his hand gesture commanded, Trilus asked, not paying them attention and now more impressed than scared or angry, “Necromancer, do you really think you could hide in plain sight?” His gaze turned to the full armoured humanoid, not that any amount of clothing or armour could stop him from detecting the undead below.

“Hiding? I have come to serve as you have called.”

“You do not even deny it?”

“Why should I? Only by my powers have we managed to withstand the rebels' betrayal. Will you repay my loyalty with yet more perfidy?”

Turning to look at the men behind him, he asked, “Have you endorsed this heretic?”

“Yes.” Proudly stated Maliz, chest out and loud her voice, “As the heir of the Rosekeepers, I have granted this man the command of my forces, as he saved my life and the lives of my men.”

“The army of Lady Soral of the Ashen has agreed, by itself, to serve under his command too, as we also have the same debt to repay.” Said Andras, after hailing, his gaze resolute.

“As you can see, I have forced my will onto them. Still I will serve and help, or will you rather watch our common front crumble from the inside?”

Not noticing a lie, Trilus frowned and dismounted. Looking far away in their direction, he saw some skeletons with bows aimed towards the humans under Noct’s command. His frown turned in confusion after his veteran eyes sideyed the undead, as, once he got close enough, he felt closer to his God. The pieces of the puzzle he had tried to put together now changed their structure and a crazy thought barreled in his mind.

Turning his gaze onto Noct, he prayed for clarity. What he saw in him was an insurmountable poker face. Still, he made a bet.

Now two metres apart, he grabbed the hilt of his sword and quickly slashed towards Noct. The sound of steel hitting still resounded on the clearing. As they were clumped up, nobody but the three of them were able to see clearly what had happened, the sound made them all unsheathe their weapons though. Trilus couldn’t but smirk at the sight of the undead’s sword, bathed in holy fire.

‘Giving me excuses to save your men from the Inquisition and allowing us to use your reinforcements? You both surpassed and failed my expectatives of you, Ashen. Still, I thank you for the opportunity to save these men from the Inquisition's claws.’ Sheathing his sword back, he turned to Noct, who hadn’t flinched, and extended his metallic hand. “So be it. We will put your trial on hold until the greater threat has been dealt with.” Those words cooled the dangerous atmosphere that had befallen the clearing, the ‘tsk’ of the leader too silent to be heard.

Noct grabbed it and Trilus pulled him into a deep handshake, almost making their heads bump.

In a hushed tone, Noct snarled, “Do not dare to betray your word. Human puppets are of no worth to me...”

“You have my word, I will save them from the Inquisition, I like them as much as you, necromancer.” Replied Trilus, cutting Noct off.

Separating himself from a perplexed necromancer, he returned to his raptor and mounted it again. “My army is already dug in in the ambush spot, I will guide you towards it and brief you on the strategy to be used. You have an hour to start marching.”

Watching them leave, the fenix corps’ leader asked him. “Will you go through with your words? I warn you against it, for you would join the trial. That necromancer had archers aiming at its ‘allies’.”

“Isn’t it better to let the abominations help us in battle, reducing their numbers and saving imperial lives?”

“Your sophistry won’t work against me, Marquess. There’s only so much the Empress can protect you from and this time it is a breach of all of our Anti Heresy laws.”

“Would you rather have us lose the battle?”

“You doubt our capabilities?”

“I do not doubt the rebels’.”

“The Grand Mistress will hear about this. This is my last warning, Marquess. Once they arrive at the forest, order us to fight.” Having said his part, the leader retreated, not wanting to join the heretic’s march.

Looking at the back of the leader, he asked, “What did you see, Lightfeet?”

“A worthy opponent. I wouldn’t win against him, no no.” Scratching her nose, she continued, “He smelled like you, sigma. His will won’t be broken and he was skillful enough to block your strike.” Answered the wolfwoman.

“I see. The one in black?”

Her left foot now carving up the dirt of the ground, she buffed, “Too cunning but smelt like fear. Dangerous but ready to give up without a fight.”

Trilus nodded.

………….

“The report from the raiding party has come, Your Highness.” Said Abran, a young High Commander hailing from the Lightfeather Barony of the east. “The four villages they have checked have been burned to the ground. No sights of fighting or resistance were observed.” He kneeled. “Also, they had detected the sights of an ambush along the road.”

“The supplies?” Asked the Queen.

“...”

A kick from the side made him fall, “He asked you a question, dog.” Snarled Ilkom.

“One more day, four if we ration them.” Said, biting a curse against the pirate.

“Start.”

Noticing the murderous look in her eyes, he quickly got up, hailed and left.

Ilkom followed with his gaze the retreating High Commander and asked, “Is your ar….” The sound of Larra’s scream together with the toppling of her wooden chair and the following creaking noises of it being broken shut him up.

After it had been reduced to chips, Larra breathed in.

“What is the new plan?” Asked Ilkom, now in a much more disarming tone.

“We play their game. We march our army into their ambush. We win the battle and we take their food. Call the High Commanders and your….whatever you have, we will have a meeting.”

Ilkom nodded and left. ‘Damned woman is losing it. Should I retreat?... Nah, I will watch how it goes. For that I will secure for my army the undead flank and play the defensive game until one side gains the advantage. May the seas take me, this has turned from a walk in the park into one on the nether. It has stopped being funny.’ He started to dance the dagger in his hand, his well contained ire aching for blood.

Inside the tent, Larra stood alone and on her feet. ‘One moment of careless behaviour… How long had they been following us, observing us. Of course our scouting parties were being whipped out, they knew their patterns better than us. How did not one of our mages detect it….mages? Mages?! The mages from the Ashen Household!’ Noticing now that the trap had been set so long ago made her blood boil.

She got out of the tents, her “Knights!” carried the weight of two people's lives.

……….