[41st Year of Foresai, Lower Fire Month, Day 5]

The drenched, lipid air of late-summer nights never felt quite right to Renner. She took in a steady pull, chafing the inside of her nostrils - the air neither quite warm or cool. With a slow exhale, she found that none of her stress had left her.

Well, that was truly useless.

“Are you-”

“Yes.”

“Right.”

Lakyus shot her eyes from the princess to the Warrior Captain, and he understood the silent command immediately. He continued his stride to the door - he, the Blue Roses, and Guild Mistress Gilre having stopped at Renner’s bid so she could fight off a growing nausea. A second later, it was thrown open, all five slipping out into a hall. It was a first floor ballroom, one of the ancillary spaces designed to contain crowd overflow, a space to shunt all the lesser barons and scions when the prestigious places were packed. Tonight, it was filled not with Re-Estize’s noble backwash, but with the very finest - and fastest - of its monster slayers. Renner found the contrast odd: a crisis that at once threatened to shake loose mankind’s wordly moorings and send all spiraling into an abyss of eternal suffering was not enough of one to break the highblooded habit of snubbing one’s subjects. The irony in this came from the fact that, to those attendant adventurers, far and away from being an insult, the invite into Valencia was an unexpected - and indistinguishable - honor.

Recount. The three survivors of the Blue Roses; the twin heroes of the east; their lesser ilk numbering six - perhaps seven - score; forty or fifty guild mages; roughly the same from the church; an impetuous bladesman who has quite suddenly sworn himself to service; and my knight. This, against our- no, my vermillion nightmare.

The entrance of Renner and her fellows jolted many in the room to their feet; among those already standing was Climb, who broke from his station at the side of the door to pick up a large roll of parchment. Pinching an end and tilting it such that it unfurled in a controlled fashion into his other hand, he brought it above his head and pressed it against the wall, a streak of paste having already been applied. Climb made quick work of the rest, drawing and pressing the parchment down out to its full length. It was an oversized map of the city nicked from Ro-Lante’s strategy room, already marked with a number of symbols, foremost of which was a large red ring around its northeast portion. Given that it was overlarge - and thus, cumbersome to maintain - its accuracy was dubious; dating back, by Renner’s count, three or four decades, it had a number of minor flaws as the city spat and swallowed buildings, though it was fit enough for tonight’s purpose. A wave of murmured analysis came over the room, the eyes of over a hundred individuals setting upon the map. Renner mirrored this, though in the opposite direction; she flicked her eyes through the crowd, giving heed not to disposition or equipment, but to the small metal plates that hung round every neck. For every green or purple sheen, there were dozens of dull iron or copper fetishes that caught the bright magelights above.

Pray tell, is such a motley force enough? They are better suited to fighting foul things than the men of the palace, or of the city, but such disunion. Yes, many are competent - silvers, golds, and so forth; yes, some are strong - mythril, orichalcum; yes, few are mighty - my companions, and that pair of repute which lurks… right there in the back.

Renner’s eyes narrowed. She had figured that the crowd would be so diverse that relying on the measure of queerness that members of fine society used to identify adventures would be useless. In a place where everyone in some way feathered themselves, Renner had no hope of distinguishing between them. She now saw that this fear had been apparently incorrect. The warrior and wizard of Darkness seemed to pop right from the scene; a combination of their physical heterogeneity, stoic attitude, and striking equipment.

That’s them. The twin heroes of E-Rantel twiceover; shame I must meet them here. Mighty, yes - who can guess how heavy that armor is - though I still fear for the same reasons. What doth the dutiful do when draped in separate colors? Figuratively, yes, but quite literally as well. I do not spy one band, I spy thirty. Perhaps this means a flexibility on our part that will allow us unparalleled battlefield flexibility and dynamism; perhaps I’ll have a dozen teams suicide in sequence. Who’s to say? Ah, I have no earthly idea what I’m doing.

Renner, for the umpteenth time this evening, resisted the urge to throw up her hands and laugh. Thankfully, she would not need to move first, as Gilre was handling the room’s wrangling. She stepped forward and began.

“My fellow adventurers, to start, I give my gratitude for attending this emergency congress.”

The Guildmistress paused while the noise died, party members swiftly shushing each other to catch the words being spoken.

“Normally, the Adventurers Guild leaves issues of nation to nation and kingdom to kingdom; however, the events of the last three hours are an exception to that principle. We, the Guild, have decided to fully cooperate with the request of House Vaiself, and to aid and assist them, their fellows, and those duly appointed by them in order to resolve this crisis as quickly as possible. Her Highness, the Third Princess Renner will relate the details to us, so I pray you be quiet and listen.”

Turning back with an open hand, Gilre drew Renner out from the wall.

I’ll need to be quick. I have no desire to throw temperamental wills to fight against a plodding speech.

“I am The Third Princess of Re-Estize, Renner Theiere Chardelon Ryle Vaiself, and I am deeply grateful to those here for responding to our extraordinary summons so deep into the evening.”

Renner fell into a bow, then, rode up the subsequent wave of gasps and emitted breaths. She opened her mouth, and in annoyance, found she had forgotten the words she had drilled in her mind for the last hour.

Something concise? “Any thanks I could give are underwrought” or, perhaps- Ah, pitch the lot. There’s no time for it anyway. Move directly to information. Start with the pyre, then ease into the cause.

“Normally, I would render more fully that praise which you all are due, but time is not something we have in excess, so forgive me for skipping such pleasantries. Earlier tonight, a portion of the city of Re-Estize-”

She raised her arm, extending a finger to trace the outlined circle on the map at a distance.

“-was encircled by a wall of flame. This blaze stands nearly twenty paces high or nearabouts your own judgments - which you have most certainly made. It ought to be an illusion of sorts; this, by way of its seeming impotence. According to the accounts of those who have gone near it and or touched it, it is heatless, functioning neither to harm nor impede. Advancing through the wall also seems to pose no risks.”

The rapid flicking of her eyes did not stop, now not from plate to plate, but face to face. Attentive gazes, unconscious nods, and best yet, hushed discussion in the wake of a particular detail at once made Renner’s fears seem silly. There was no threat of her words shattering morale.

I thought it was perhaps wishful to hope for such stalwart dispositions, but… well, of course; they’re adventurers. That same kind of violent itch that… oh, say, Gagaran had. I can press the harder topics.

“The enemy responsible for this assault is a dread demon, a being of extreme power and viciousness by the name of Jaldabaoth. The Blue Roses have already confirmed that there are lowly fiends on the other side of the blaze. They, as per what scouting we have performed, seem to be acting in organized fashion, indicating they are operating under a hierarchy of command.”

“Seems basic enough, lop off the head and the body dies. Shouldn’t we just rush down this Jaldabaoth and vanquish him?”

The man who spoke was in one of the nearer clumps, donned in studded leathers, with a mythril plate hanging from his neck.

Interruptions here are to be cherished, a warning of misconceptions shoring up in their minds. I can segway from that.

“That’s perhaps reductive; a beheading blow would shatter, but not scatter them. To that, demons are not wont to adopt organization without objective. You must not only halt him, but his plot as well. To our understanding, Jaldabaoth is here to seize an object of power that is either coming to the capital, or is here already.”

“How- how did you learn this?”

“He spoke it himself.”

The man scoffed, but before he could continue, a woman deeper into the crowd - dressed in linen and crowned in flowers - piped up.

“Then don’t you think there’s a high chance that information could be false?”

Eh? Isn’t that a bit daft to ask? I’ve been reckless. Leaving even the most basic topics unstated will lose members of this crowd. Ah, I ought to work through this point in detail.

“Certainly! A lie from a demon? Their entire assault and given cause thus far may just be massive feint. That said, to speak treachery is one thing, acting adverse is another matter altogether. The enemy has still yet to advance from their lodgement, and if we waver and shuffle ere that uncertain advance, we cowardly many will watch, stagnant, as the people of the warrens are slaughtered. Come dawn on the fifth, we will sit sidelong knowing thousands of our countrymen were not here to witness it. That is unacceptable. We must strike first.”

Renner finished, and for a brief instant, silence reigned; in odd fashion, she could feel it. The entire room was looking at her, wordlessly. Her words were being heeded, wholly, by hundreds. A sensation crept into her mind, an electricity, a swelling of the self. Her breath caught. No speech of hers had ever felt like this; no cocked heads, looks of derisions, nor halfwrought smiles. It shattered a moment later, a wizened man near the front tapping his staff against the ground twice before speaking.

“That fiend, Jaldabaoth, what of his strength? I’ve heard no lore of him. Perhaps you have a difficulty rating?”

Renner paused, finding herself again wanting for things to say. Her mind could not make sense of what was happening; how, somehow, in the deepest nook of a disastrous night, that darkest time in living memory, when cataclysm came knocking for the world of men, she had found a mote of satisfaction. It was unbecoming. Mind stopped dead, she absently decided to let Lakyus answer, swinging out a wave of the hand to her, who gave a nod in acknowledgement.

This is for the best. I can’t speak to monster metrics anyway.

“My colleague Evileye is the most familiar of us with him, though specific points elude us. We’ll tell you more when we can, however, as the leader of my party, I’ll speak what I know. My comrades encountered some half-hewn, man eating abomination - part insect, part maid - presumably in the service of Jaldabaoth.”

Well, whatever emotions are striking me, she’s clearly scared. Not too hard to tell this time; the way she’s drawing things out with descriptors, complex sentence construction. She’s escaping into verbiage like all those of noblestock learn to do. For the love of all things dear, Alvein, hold fast.

“They engaged it and after a long fight, defeated it, only for Jaldabaoth to appear at the moment of victory. He- he slew them-”

“In a single blow.”

The room erupted in a furor as people degenerated into loud talk. All the usual outpourings came: shouts, wails, exclamations, laughs, yelps. Some were stunned to silence, others expressing emotions with steps forward or back. To Renner, the faintest of flinches sufficed. Though she had heard Evileye’s account twice in advance, the lurking detail that the blow had been singular had eluded her.

An untimely break, though one I don’t believe anyone saw. I should have taken note of that earlier. Damn this! Why did she think to add that?

Renner shot her gaze to Evileye, boring into the back of her robe. She had, at some point, broke forward, and found herself fit to talk. The sorceress raised her arms a moment later, bellowing out to the room.

“Do not be afraid! Jaldabaoth is without a doubt powerful. I know this myself, having faced him with all my prowess only to lose. He- it is a monster beyond the capacity of men to defeat-”

Is she mad?! “Beyond the capacity-” why- why would she say that?! To rile the crowd is exactly the opposite of what she should be doing.

“-Even if every one of us here gathered to that end, we would all be trounced-”

Do I drag her off? Or, perhaps have Lakyus do that? No, that would only impede whatever confidence we have so far built. Dammit! What is she doing?!

“But, there is reason to have hope yet. There is a man who can do battle evenly with Jaldabaoth!”

Renner pulled in a sharp gulp of air, swallowing some inadvertently. Her heart raced, sweat pouring round all the folds of her body. Evileye was blowing things open, speaking exactly the wrong words to keep order. Though she was building to an obvious conclusion, Renner could not hazard why, and she found herself again a victim of nausea.

I don’t understand this at all! Hyping the Raven Black is one thing, but to so disparage the rest of your comrades? They will be fighting alongside you in battle, you fool! If they lose heart, or succumb to an apathy - a heaviness of stride, we will not claim victory!

“Rough and hardy-folk, I believe you know this man. From the third Adamantite-ranked adventuring team, recently founded in E-Rantel of the Kingdom’s eastern land- indeed, it is him-”

Evileye, akin to a showwoman, pirouetted on the spot and threw out her arm, at once casting the whole room to one man.

“The leader of Darkness, the Dark Hero, Sir Momon!”

The room broke into adulation, a great awing swelling from the space. Renner, seeing this, fought back down her anger, instead choosing to join the tenor with a broad smile. Evileye’s blunder seemed to resolve itself, the general attitudes of adventures quick to accept a stronger fellow, and for that knowledge to challenge the cause for fear.

Must I again revise my understanding of the ‘venturous spirit? No, the moment hasn’t been soured yet. Most will not be fighting alongside Momon, instead spread about the line. Do tell, Chardelon; are you to stand here and let a fool bungle our survival? Take the lead from her when you can.

“Quickly, Mister Momon, please come to the front of the room.”

‘Mister?’ Did she not just use ‘Sir?’ Why the discrepancy? In the strategic council room too, she vacillated between Lord and a lesser word. Is she lost in the throws of some violent inner turmoil? A sorrow that so rends her accounting of self that she might think to tear the lot of us down with her? Why, then, Momon as an idol? If only I could rob her of her robe and mask. I suppose they’re doing their job diligently, keeping her inscrutable not just to her enemy, but also to us. I suppose that distinction is a little less clean than purported.

Renner broke away from her insolent comrade, looking to the looming man in the back. He was leaning over, whispering something unheard to his companion. The woman - to Renner’s knowledge, a sorceress by the name of Nabe - nodded, let him draw back to his full height, and then spoke.

“Mister Momon says there is no need for a lengthy introduction. We should begin the briefing as fast as possible.”

Her tone was clipped and flat, carrying no flair. Renner leapt upon the opportunity, not giving her companion the chance to speak.

“Well, so goes most of this night. Then, as Master Momon suggests, let’s move with haste. Evileye, things are fit for me to continue?”

“Ah… um, apologies, Your Highness. Please.”

An apology? Why? She did not act in neglect of thought, but rather outran it. How? Genuine fear? The same woman who not only tears weapons from the world, but rips her way through it? If so, then her instinct would not be to apologize to me, but to all those out there. By doing so to me, she believes her words to be in excess. She isn’t sorrowful. She’s smitten.

Renner’s eyes opened just a little wider, the moment finally coming together in a way that made sense. Her rage - once blind and directionless - snapped into order, turning into the much more palatable feeling of cool hatred.

She would threaten everything for a fancy? She is daft, isn’t she? To step out, and let such emotions come to the fore. To think that my affection - a true and proper love for Climb - would be threatened by such a useless flit by a useless woman. Come now, Evileye; look to his side. Does he not have a maid already? Were it not for your magic and lore, I would think you as adolescent as your stature purports you to be.

Turning back to the crowd, Renner swallowed her spit and the urge to spit it at Evileye and addressed them again.

“As Evileye said, we have a warrior to challenge Jaldabaoth in equal combat. Everyone, in no capacity is this fight unwinnable! We will strike and we will claim a sure victory! To that end, to claim this ‘sure victory,’ will employ the following stratagem. As an initial point, you adventurers will serve as a bow.”

“A bow? Not a shield?”

Another interruption, this from a lithe swordsman off to the right.

“Forgive the vulgarity, but you can’t run a man through with a shield. We’re forming a three layer force: you adventurers will serve as vanguard, behind you a line of guards, and behind them guild magicians and those men from the church. Arranged like that, we will push into the felflame, and advance through those parts of the city occupied by the enemy. In the case that this action is a feint by the enemy, we will push into the core away, and suppress whatever fiends are within, before repositioning to the true threat. In the case of a full bore counter assault, we’ll hold, taste our fate for favor or folly; if we can hold, we will hold, and immediately follow up with a punishing action; else, a snap retreat to stretch their force. You will return to the third line, be healed and receive support magic, before returning to the front-”

“Wait, does this mean the guard will be fighting on our behalf?!”

“The city-”

Renner was cut off before she could make it another word.

“Another thing, there’s a worse issue here. You say the enemy will stretch when they advance, but by retreating, we’ll stretch too! Who’s to say our capacities don’t become overwhelmed? What if the demons break out and make it into the city, or if they emerge from behind us? Even a low-ranking demon would still rip most people to shreds. Who knows how many extra dead! Why, instead of fighting a ground-game, we do an aerial assault? We have the spellcasters! Levitate the lot of us and we can penetrate the enemy formation in one movement! No ground to lose!”

Renner blinked, her expression wavering in all manner of ways before settling on a slight frown. The specific suggestion was unexpected, yet the general nature of it was predictable. She was in the company of those who fashioned themselves heroes. Heroes were wont for brash action. Given the choice between a steady, protracted back-and-forth - more forth than back - and a rapid, daring gambit to win the fight right that moment, they would always choose the latter. The gambit was just that, a chance to win outright and dash away the demons ere the morrow; or, as its opposite would have, hand themselves over for destruction.

It’s conceivable, but confounding. Jaldabaoth is already forcing my hand to chance. That I must make the arrowpoint a man whose deeds I know twice removed - and to which there are still lingering questions - is difficult enough. Supporting a second such daring charge leads me to no gain. I would only needlessly endanger my future. In what way is a speedier victory valuable to me? It fails to strengthen my House, and though I perhaps receive some additional glory for personal participation, that’s useless capital. Were it to work, Chardelon gains nothing. A token excuse, then.

“Not that I haven’t considered that, but demons count many winged things among their numbers, no?”

Again, the room went silent, her harriers lost in combinations of frowns, silent admonitions of self, or other expressions of similar feelings. Once again a swelling in her breast, though this time, a little fouler, and a little less welcome. Realizing dragging the moment wouldn’t cause a return of those earlier feelings, she continued.

“To that, such magic would only expose us to their eyes, and their aptitude in fighting divorced from the ground is something they surely exceed us in. A swooping strike would give us the best odds - to fall from a great height very quick-like before diving between the buildings and slaking ourselves on them with ease - though even that has its flaws. Ah, there’s a more pressing matter. As mentioned before, we weaken in retreat, and are susceptible to a breakthrough. However, the same stands for our enemy. An… elasticity on our part that allows us to snap back - as would a drawstring. We are not to be on the defensive for long.”

Scattered cheers came, a few in the crowd overbrimming with the image she had stirred.

Ramp.

“You, thus, are the bow of the Kingdom. You draw and loose, and whom you loose will strike the enemy dead. Our arrow is Master Momon. When the enemy draws thin - either by way of our advance or retreat - he will break forth at speed, fly beneath the rooftop peaks, and shatter the enemy where he lands.”

“What of Red Drop? By no means am I challenging the prowess of Darkness, but they are only two. Why not a screening force? Surely it would be the most certain way.”

The front mythril plate again, this time not in cynicism, but in criticism.

“Mm, it’s a security I too want, but cannot have. Red Drop is afield. In Argland, actually. We have informed them through magical means, but their return leg would take them through to midday tomorrow. I’d hazard things resolved by the dawn, either for goodness, or against it. They will not be here tonight.”

And a very sorry matter that they will not. A second arrow would be more than reassuring, it would change the character of the moment. Even that fellow Climb and Brain seem so fond of, why not him?

“Then… of Blue Rose? Will they be going in with Mister Momon?”

“With two of us in the company of He of the Winding Chasm, our battle strength is greatly depleted. Tina and I will join the battle line and lead in what capacity we can. As for Evileye-.”

“I will be accompanying Mister Momon- Sir Momon as he makes his entry, and I’ve been restoring myself to that end.”

“Then, let me ask another question, one not to you, but to the Warrior Captain. What of the forces of those constituting Houses? What of their soldiers? What of yours? What of the warrior band? Even the finest of us have lost two women. Why not take their place on the line; lead those troops into battle, and let Blue Rose handle the task of clearing the path for Momon-san?”

“Answer us!”

Murmurs and the like followed in the wake of this. Renner suppressed a smile.

This could be… advantageous. Stronoff, choose your words poorly.

“The house troops are responsible for protecting their masters’ estates; the knight and professional units are dedicated to the defense of Ro-Lante; and the warriors I lead are tasked with defending the Royal Family.”

“So you’re saying you won’t step onto the battlefield, Captain Stronoff?”

“Mm, it’s so. My duty is to stay in Valencia and protect the members of House Vaiself.”

The room once again fell into a coil, murmurs growing to shouts, and shouts to cries. Renner faked shock, then shame, lowering her head slightly and dropping her gaze in a way she felt just comical enough to pass inspection. This was exactly the sort of thing she found useful, an ingratiation into the thinking of adventurers. Though their lives were not individually important, to slip into their minds as a figure who not only piteously granted them exemptions from tax, but as one who felt for their plight in a time of need was - at the very least - useful. Repute begat repute, another avenue for popularity, with all the advantages that bestowed. Lakyus stole the floor, snapping in response to the tumult.

“Everyone, I understand you are not happy with this arrangement, though I would advise you to remember some key facts. The one who submitted the request to the guild, and bore the burden of its cost was not House Vaiself, but her Highness Renner herself - out of her own private finances. The one who brought Mister Momon here was Lord- Marquis Raeven. He is not here right now because he and his men are standing sentry against any demons which might be slipped past into the capital. It’s frustrating - enraging, even. I am as unhappy with the broader nobility and royal court as you are, but this is not a backstab, and even were it one, not all highbloods would be your enemy.”

Perfect, or nearabouts. Promotion of me and my ally. What escapes their dying lips tonight will be curses on the broader polity. ‘Damn those cowardly nobles,’ and the like. I, thus, bloom a little more for Raeven. A way to secure himself in the eyes of guildsmen as a “good one.” Shame no mention was made of Zanac, though… ah. Perhaps it would be a good thing to fight for a strengthened house. This beggars more thought later. There is a more immediate subject at hand.

Renner’s eyes swung further to the right; Climb was but three paces in that direction. He was stiff, with that flat look of stoic ignorance that he and Gazef tended to get for one another in times where their opposite was challenged.

You.

Renner was beginning to get annoyed. For the same reasons the capital had been turned upside down, her attempts to gently goad Climb into death had simply seized. He stepped out into the night, one meticulously set to snap him into as few pieces possible, only for him to walk right back out without a wound. It was certainly not for lack of danger - he encountered Six Arms, and his fellows half a mile distant met ends in fire - rather, the mechanisms of fate had simply decided that his jaunt into the black would be fraught with safety.

This text was taken from Royal Road. Help the author by reading the original version there.

At this pace, I’ll need to shove him into the grave.

Time hung, seconds feeling much too long. Fantasies flooded back to her, images of him laying sickly and faint, agonized flutters of his breast as he fought for breath. Renner’s mouth opened slightly, top front teeth meeting with her bottom lip.

Perhaps, a little brashness.

“There is one more thing… While we may advance to defeat the enemy, there is a matter of greater importance. Climb!”

“Yes, Your Highness?”

“Although… it is a dangerous task, I must entrust you with it. When we enter the enemy’s hold, there will be survivors. Please, do what you can to save them.”

“Yes, Your Highness! Whatever is needed to accomplish that, I will do.”

A great stumble came from her left, a hundred and fifty looks of disbelief, but she ignored it. Climb’s death was an end all unto itself, and, even if the ask was insane, it would fit the appearance of an over-charitable girl nevertheless. Renner waited for the expected offers of support, though, it coming from directly behind was a little surprising.

“Miss… Princess, if I may have a word, Climb is just one. To strike off on his own is… will you permit me to accompany him?”

Him? Wonderful.

“I did not reckon myself in the permitting of such things. Why, I was to make the very same request of you, Brain Unglaus.”

Guide him to a murderous thing, and drag back his body, my dear scion of danger.

“Ah, then, it’s no problem for me.”

“Then I will be counting on you. May I now ask the various party leaders to step forward? Let me provide battle plans in detail.”

With this, the evening slowed. Thirty or so people in the center began to shuffle forward - a few more dragged from the sides and diagonals - the whole crowd melting into a slurry of bobbing heads. Renner watched with little attention, giving the occasional nod or half-spoken greeting as individuals worked their way to the front. Though they were to be the city’s saviors, to socialize with them was unbecoming, and as Lakyus was doubly exhausted, the minutes passed in silence. Of that intermingling, Darkness seemed to be the most popular, Renner catching a line of people snaking out from them, every party sending someone to introduce themselves to the strongest pair. Queerly, she noted that Momon was doing most of the work, shaking hands with each who approached.

Isn’t that a little out of fashion?

“Why is he taking so long?”

The low grumble came from Evileye, who, after Renner raised an eyebrow, slipped into the crowd and out of sight. For Renner’s sake, she had outright lost Darkness in a shuffle of the mass, herself challenged in respect to height. Renner had long since doffed her heels for something more practical for an evening spent standing, and as adventurers were taller and broader than most, she had no capacity to peer through it. She had no desire to strain herself to that end and dropped the thread. The matter only came back into her consciousness a minute later when emerged from the crowd neither Momon nor Evileye, but Nabe, allowing Renner to get her first close regard of the sorceress.

Eh? Ah, I suppose the rumors of her being a foreigner are true. By the looks of it, a southerner.

Renner gazed a second longer, pulling in a swift up-down-up evaluation of her soon to be savior. For the standards of adventuring-kind, her dress was not drab, but understated. She was simply thrown over in a dyed wool overcoat, with a color somewhere between umber and red ochre. Renner had no sense for these sorts of things, but the faint crinkles at her hip indicated something worn underneath, likely a weapon. Pulling back to her face, she saw a rather unamused expression that betrayed little emotion besides a slight tilt of the eyebrows.

My, she's positively gorgeous, isn't she? I almost feel outdone.

“Well, I believe that’s all of us. If you wouldn’t mind, her Highness has a drawing room prepared to the left.”

“Thank you, Lakyus. If you would.”

Lakyus broke, the lot shuffling after her lead. Slipping through a pair of open double doors, the lot made their way into a smaller room. This was a function of a plot by Renner, this drawing room possessing an overthin patch of wall with a small space purpose-built for eavesdropping behind it. Accessed through a secret entrance in a room adjacent to the one Renner was in now, two were now occupying it, her brother and the Marquis. The stock discomfort adventures held for highbloods other than her meant that their direct presence was likely to result in stifled voices, something no member of the trio wished to invoke. Thus, the two men had retreated to a secret place, allowing Renner the more delicate task of wrangling adventurers. This space was more densely packed with objects, another table with another nicked map, though this having been inked much more recently than the one in the ballroom. Renner worked her way to it, making her way to Lakyus, who was already standing by. She cast her gaze down, taking a closer look at the map; specifically at the river that intersected the circle.

Re-Estize has always been maze-like, but the particulars of the Geyda and Laroque districts were a level of their own. In the panic of the last few hours, Renner had done a basic review of all areas within the blaze, particularly the port’s history. Two hundred years prior, as the yearling Kingdom dredged itself up from the ruin of the Demon Gods, basic trade was re-established between the east and the west. With roads still too dangerous for merchant traffic, traders fell back to the river, piloting barges from the headwaters near what would be named Re-Boullorel. The deep crevasses of the earth still swelled with felkind, and while iron veins were accessible, coal was not; with even the forests having been ripped away, there was no capacity to smelt, and thus the ore was sent downriver.

The early business of Re-Estize was just that, harvesting its bogs just south for peat, and then using that as fuel. This necessitated docks, ones that ran along the northernmost fork of the Rine - which, for reasons beyond Renner, was referred to as the Southflow. This had created a thriving cluster of constructions to support the mercantilists who would sail down twice a year, stay through winter, and then venture back northeast. Docks begat warehouses, and warehouses begat laborers, many of whom made homes not too far away. As the Kingdom grew into its name, its industries drew themselves back together, and the space for housing shrunk. Homes became tenements, and tenements became warrens; the zone was, nowadays, far and away the densest part of the city. Now, against an enemy best suited for combat in such close quarters, besieging the district felt nigh impossible. It was a depressing truth: decisions made in the wake of disaster two centuries before were now being exploited by the very same sort of beings who wrought it.

I fear for the present. Not for what is, but for what isn’t. Those lost histories, not by way of wilful flouting, but by ignorance. Here we stand at a great repetition of things once come, and yet we know nothing of it. The enemy sees this, lore made manifest from hewn wood and stone. How long was this action coming? How long ago was this plot set? If it was done with a sun so deep in the east - a plan two-hundred years in the making - I fear any action I may take will itself be foretold. Ah, though, if this is a rapid scheme, would not that make things worse? Is this what a sow feels under the ax? Questioning if the rancher had fattened them for months, or if he merely had a hunger pang.

As the last made their way in, Lakyus cast her gaze round and began.

“A detailed account is as follows. The wall of fire stretches roughly three hundred paces across, and is centered on Geyda square. It swallows all of the Geyda warren, most of Utreno to the west, cuts across the southflow to enclose the very northernmost part of Laroque, and then bisects Getha, Windlon, and Ro-Solethor to the northwest, north, and east respectively. Major roads - fit enough for double file cart traffic - lead out of the firewall in two directions, running from dead north and out to the southwest; general roads - fit for single file carts - run out in seven separate directions, and are roughly spread across the center of each neighborhood’s joining. One of those crossings includes the bridge between Utreno and Laroque, the westermost crossing between the two neighborhoods. There are roughly another five dozen backways, alleys, and other, less explicit ways through, both at and below ground.”

Lakyus indicated the locations she spoke of on the map, lightly tapping her finger on each place she described.

“Little is known about the enemy. While we can be assured that Jaldabaoth is truly their commander, we do not have a count of their force size, powers, or numbers. Of what I saw, I can confirm the presence of Gazers and Hellhounds, but there are likely more varieties of demons beyond the wall. Further, the wall of fire is thick at the ground, and completely obscures vision to the other side. While we know that the enemy is entirely within the blaze, we do not know where inside of it they are. That said, it is reasonable to predict a basic defensive posture. The enemy will likely choose hard to assault positions, tight street corners, and other such implementations. While demons have magic casters, many of their more mundane forces will only be capable of melee combat. Winding alleyways, well-constructed buildings, and dark corners will be their best fighting spots.

It is possible that their ranged forces may attempt to get a leg above the city. The highest point in the blaze is the cathedral of the six that sits right off the square itself; stone, and with a spire that stands at least twenty paces off the ground. However, these positions may be more dynamic than they first appear. Even their ranged fighters are winged, and may freely abandon any position, or hop from rooftop to rooftop with ease. Keep attentive of the space above you, have a member of your party keep their eyes up at all times and cycle through. Demons have no quarrel with vile methods of fighting; they will ambush, they will lay traps. Be careful. Be alert.

As far as the enemy’s objectives, we possess some understanding of them from their behavior. Earlier in the evening, I, along with my party and supporting troops from House Raeven assaulted a number of Eight Fingers positions around the city, positions which we found were emptied of both wealth and men. After my comrades were assailed and slain, the wall of fire was raised. The enemy was in some way involved with Eight Fingers, most likely per their stated objective - that they were seeking an object of power. This matches with their current action, with Utreno containing the largest cluster of warehouses in the city. Like her Highness spoke earlier, our objectives are twofold: one, eliminate the demon commander; two, foil his plot. To that, we will likely need to push through the stowages in depth. Expect indoor fighting in an environment with winding spaces, and much cover. However, there… there is something else.”

Lakyus paused and stole a breath.

“For some reason, the enemy has taken to a third objective. They appear to be stealing citizens from their homes, and dragging them deeper into the core of the blaze. Where they are exactly, we do not know. It’s possible they may have been separated, or otherwise held captive. While… the purpose behind this is unknown… expect anything.”

The room was silent, everyone understanding what Lakyus had left unspoken. Demons were not wont to spare lives. A revival of that earlier bodily sensation came to Renner: what it would feel like to be chewed. Her companion coughed, then went on.

“The operation will take place in four phases. Phase one will be the initial entrance into the blaze, and establishment of a battleline; we will launch probatory strikes and attempt to seize a number of structures as strongpoints. These will be along the nine major roads mentioned before, and specifically, will be stone or brick structures capable of standing to spellfire or spat flame. One critical objective is the aforementioned bridge between Laroque and Utreno. Of any entrance into the flame, it is the closest to the river port, and thus the warehouses. The warrens to the west and east of it are particularly dense, and with the enemy’s advantage in tight space, would be a slaughtering ground. The next closest path into the flame is much further away, and, depending on the course of the battle, we may be unable to reach the stowage for over an additional hour.

Phase two of the operation will be the establishment of battlelines. Once we enter and acquire strong points, we will fight laterally, linking between each group and establishing the three layers mentioned previously. With this completed and lines established, we will begin phase three, the steady advancement on Geyda square. As her Highness said in the other room, this will be a thorough advance. When needed, we will breach buildings and drive the enemy out into the street to be run through on pikes or by arrows. We will vanquish as many as we can. When and where they buckle, a guildmage will send word, and Darkness - who, until this point, will be circling the flame - will redirect themselves to that point and slip through the enemy line. At this point, phase four begins. Darkness will hunt down Jaldabaoth with Evileye as auxiliary, and the rest of us will continue fighting. Come his banishment or destruction, the enemy will collapse, and we will sweep the area completely.”

The battle plan had been Renner’s, a steady advance designed to rob the enemy of their defensive and terrain advantages. As a kingdom, Re-Estize had not practiced siege warfare proper for four decades and had no experience on doing so against non-humans; still, she had enough inklings to determine traditional methods would fail. The superior mobility of the enemy meant that charges and spearhead assaults were likely to result in encirclement. Formation tactics would result in columns of troops half as wide and with double the ranks, leaving them highly vulnerable to linear spellfire. Thus, she had decided upon a much more dynamic course of action. Individual parties would function as lances, which would then be interlinked in groups of two to four to assault a street or cluster of buildings. Possessing the sort of tight coordination necessary, these lances could make individual tactical assessments - clearing houses, making use of rapid barricades, launching flanking attacks - maintaining the flexibility necessary to deal with a demonic response. The selection of parties to specific missions was Lakyus’s doing, something which she now explained.

“Specific assignments are as follows. I and the Blue Roses will be leading the primary assault from the southwest, along with teams Spear Forward, Doom Scyers, and Copper Washout. The assault from the north will be headed by the Seekers of Sfeiz, and supported by Crimson Scorpion, Obsidian Rose, and Tallow and Vellum. Northwest Witchers and Avoidant Cause will assault the sideroad into Utreno; Hither Wither and White Block for Getha; Joust Jacker and Rockpox for westernmost entrance into Windlen, Unlovables and Bane of Worm for the east; Axes of the Damned and Second Chance for the northern entrance into Ro-Solethor, and Terminal End and The Lifers for the southernmost. Naga Scryers and Headless Rabbit will assault the bridge in a two-pronged attack, and once taken, Helm of Yore will join them to assault the port. Sandshrike’s Company, Sisters of Fury, and Nine Thousand and One will launch air assaults, sortieing as needed to knock the enemy off of roofs. Salted Ash will serve in a support capacity, specifically spellfire battery. Crimson Circle, Forward Spear, Armor Slaked, and Slow Heat will stay in reserve. Darkness… well, I believe we all know.”

“Thank you, Lakyus. Before we open to questions, I ask that I may have a word.”

“Go ahead.”

“Forgive a princess for opining about the annals of her house, but if it is not an outsized burden, I would ask all of you to remember our history. When Brog’Drukil, Fourth Archfiend of Ixixis’Krkrir came into our lands, he and his armies wrought such ruin and woe that all the land from here to the mountains on the far side of Baharuth were rendered ashen wastes. They were strong, they were numerous, in everyways the match of those that you will soon face, and yet our forebears did not break. Even through lightless dawns and red nights, they endured, first desperately holding against the enemy, then repelling the enemy, then running the enemy down. Our people chased the lot back into their pits and slew all who dared stay. My forefather - eleven times removed - King Andrean the First destroyed the earthly form of Brog’Drukil, so thoroughly wiping him away that his edicts lost all power for all time. We defeated them then. We will defeat them now.”

I wonder how much of what I just spoke is actually true. More lies from Slane, perhaps? Lies become damned lies, and damned lies become history. I haven’t an earthly idea how the dread six-hundred is at play here, but it clearly is.

Renner showed a light smile and genuflected once more.

“Apologies, I fear I was a little overexcited. Any queries?”

Several people perked up, the lead of which was a gold-plate in a gambeson.

“Yeah, Princess, er-”

“Princess is fine.”

“Right, how long is each phase supposed to last?”

“While phases one and two are ideally completed within three quarters of an hour, there is no similar frame for the third and fourth. Simply put, we do not know how long the enemy will fight-”

“Fiends are temperamental, fickle even. They won't give forewarning, but when they choose to break, they’ll break quick.”

“As Lakyus said.”

“I understand. Thank you, Princess.”

“Of course. Ah, and not to bogart this time just for answering and listening. Please, meet with the other party leaders you are to fight alongside. Further, if you wish to plot specific routes for your pair or quartet, this map is yours to mark. We have a Master of Ordinances out in the hall, I believe, Sir Ekre; he can tell you what structures on this map are hardened, or fit for defense. It might be worth calling him in now.”

At this, the room broke into more general conversation, those with questions instead pausing and turning to each other. Like before, it was time for more waiting, a coming together of party leaders to decide the specific tactics of the evening. Some drew together, the leader of Seekers of Sfiez taking first to the map along with the other parties left in his care and a pair shaking hands and leaving for the ball room immediately; Gazef too left, leaving Brain and Climb to talk to each other. Others lingered, either studying the map, listening to the conversations of other bands, or simply standing silent and still. Nabe was one of the latter; she had an overwhelming air of disinterest about her. Renner, feeling the moment as spare as any, decided to look her over in detail.

She possessed the distinct traits of a southerner - not of Gazef’s stock, but of a different type Renner could not place: skin of a slightly different - though still bright - tone; waxy black hair; eyelids given over to folds on either side. Her complexion was light, yet not overfair, cheeks - that themselves were ever slightly lower and fuller than those common in the kingdom - having a hint of blush. Her eyes were just as subtle, her irises on first glance gray, yet a faint violet on second. Between them lay a petite nose, poking out in a way that was somehow demure. Her mouth was small, with thin lips of little color - though this complemented the other hues of her visage better than would have rosy ones. Her face came to a point, chin more defined by its position on her face than distance from it. Her forehead was of no greater size than Renner’s, though it was obscured by a thick set of bangs, which themselves ever so slightly passed thin brows of similar texture. Put together, the sorceress at once looked hardened and mouseish.

Actually, I believe I have been outdone. Why, she’s adorable. Perhaps that expression of hers would spoil her beauty, but somehow her bangs seem to counter the effect. Ah, and even her hair! It catches the light, yet has no sheen of oil. It is merely that rich and thick.

Nabe’s stillness broke; she pivoted her head, looking back in the direction of the double doors. Renner caught her cheek at just the right oblique for the magelight behind to halo the woman’s skin, faintly shining through its edge. Renner traced it, attempting to admire its smoothness, but was lost to a creeping sense that something was missing. She took a few seconds to find it. Nabe had none of the tiny, diaphanous hairs that Renner was accustomed to on the fellow faces of the fair sex; nor was there sign of their removal. This was odd, but Renner went once over again, the second pass revealing nothing else. Drawing back, Renner looked more deeply at her cheek, struggling to suppress a startle when she could neither spy foundation nor pores. Renner flitted her gaze to other features, jumping between cheekbones, the mouth, and then back up to her eyes, seeing no rouge, nor carmine, nor kohl. Nabe was not wearing makeup. Her skin was not simply blemishless, it was perfect. Perplexed, Renner blinked twice, then fluttered her eyes, and upon opening them to see the same image - no illusion revealing itself - cocked her head a little further.

She isn’t simply gorgeous, she’s frightening. The work of magic? It would have to be, but that feels so unlikely for this woman. The apathy… no, disdain she seems to have. Does she care that deeply for appearances? Could she? It feels almost out of character, unless I’m misjudging her attitudes. It feels so strong though, she drips a sort of dutifulness. Rather than that, it’s as if she simply is. Unerringly perfect. Like a-

Nabe stiffened, suddenly turning around to stare Renner dead in the eye.

“What?”

“Eh? Nothing.”

Nabe stared a little longer, her eyes tracing the length of Renner’s face, then nodded and turned back to the entrance.

The movement of her lips didn’t match the words she spoke. She’s using translation magic. So casually as well. No wonder she’s adamantite. Ah, this is too unworthy a quandary for now; focus on what's at hand.

Renner gave a slight sight, dismissing the matter to instead look at whatever Nabe was peering at. Tracing the line of her gaze, Renner settled on the door. A few seconds passed with nothing, but then, out of that entrance, came a runt thrown-over in crimson and a towering black figure. Renner hailed first.

“Greetings, Master Momon. My meeting you has been a thing desired since I first heard of your exploits in E-Rantel.”

“Mm. It is good to meet you as well, your Highness.”

His voice was deep and full-bodied, similar in effect to the warrior captain’s, though less scraggly. Helm still donned, Renner could make out none of his face, suspecting in absent defeat that he was likely to keep it on for the remainder of the evening. Though not quite full plate in the fashions she was accustomed too, he was completely covered in armor, alternating between two sheens of metal. The outer, which constituted his helm, breastplate, backplate, pauldrons, courtiers, gauntlets, faulds, tassets, leg greaves, and sabatons had luster akin to a dark gray indigo, the unmistakable shade of orihalchum-adamantite alloy. Below that was another, darker material, one that flexed as he moved, yet was still metallic; this constituted an underlayer, taking the place of plate to protect the abdomen, upper and lower arms, as well as the inside of his thighs. Lastly, the trim, which had the color of gold - though likely this was only leaf - ran the breadth of his plate’s edges, also constituting his poleyns. From his back fluttered a red cape of some luscious fabric Renner could not identify, with a more rugged-looking gray linen binding both his couters and poleyns to his joints. This bulk of armor, along with the two oversized hilts that framed his head from either side seemed to make Momon greater in stature than he was, his presence simply imposing.

I suppose this is what most imagine our finest heroes ought to be. Towering men in heavy armor, bearing swords much too large for an average person to so much as lift. Beautiful women with magical aptitude so skilled it becomes casual and effortless - not to say Lakyus is not the latter, but I feel there is a slight difference in the functions of her attractiveness. Perhaps I’ve merely gotten used to the splendor of the Blue Rose and blinded myself to their true stature. In either case, I’m glad to have them.

“Forgive us, we already went through the details of the battleplan, though I’m sure your part in this is obvious.”

“It’s quite alright. My companion and I have a clear idea of our roles in this fight.”

“Indeed.”

“Forgive me, Your Highness-”

This voice came from behind, Renner turning around to see a rather cowed Climb doing his best not to quake in place.

“Eh? What is it?”

“I know another person who could… become an arrow for this assault. He is a man with overwhelming fighting power. Would it be all right to ask for his aid?”

Ah, Sebas. It is perhaps late to seek his aid. No matter. Let the moment hang. I want to see him stammer out a little more.

Renner stayed silent, throwing an inquisitive gaze on Climb. To her pleasure, he broke, stumbling out a few more words.

“One arrow is good, but two would be better, and if they helped each other, I am sure they could defeat any demon that showed itself, no matter how powerful it was.”

“What’s this, Climb? Are you saying the Master Momon I recommended isn’t enough?”

Ah, you’re ruining the moment, you ingrate.

Renner shot a glare at Evileye, an expression of displeasure wholly appropriate.

“What? No- no, of course not. That was not my intention at all, I-”

“Master Momon is the strongest warrior in existence. Likely, rather than helping him, the man you recommended would be nothing more than a hindrance.”

“That might not be so. I too have seen the person Climb is speaking of. His strength is extraordinary - he felled Zero, strongest of the Six Arms, in one strike.”

Eh? Twice now in one evening I’ve been greeted by that phrase. Perhaps that’s natural for the scrambled and desperate combat among bladed men, but I thought that disappeared in higher echelons.

“You’re Brain Unglaus, right? Serving her Highness on the recommendation of Gazef Stronoff and Climb?”

“I’m Gazef’s subordinate, but, before I officially join his band, I stay by the Princess’ side.”

“I know you’re much stronger than Climb, but that doesn’t make your assessment more accurate; no guarantee of that man’s strength. And besides, didn’t you lose to that hag?”

“Ah, but didn’t you lose to her too? My apologies, Mister Unglaus.”

Lakyus’s interjection was timely, something that made her silence a clever tactic to shatter her comrade’s hubris, who, for her part, had slipped into a whimper.

“It- it wasn’t just her, you all were there too!”

“After you lost, you said you lost to Rigrit, not the rest of us.”

“You still remember that, Tina?”

More whimpering from Evileye, Tina breaking into a barely stifled laugh. Momon, having looked on silently while this conversation occurred, finally chanced to speak up.

“This man, he sounds interesting. What sort of person is he?”

“His name is Sebas.”

“Hm? Seibath? Could you perhaps describe him?”

“He’s an older gentleman. Tall, well-built-”

“Handsome.”

“H-handsome too. He’s a butler in service of his master’s daughter… they’re traveling together. he’s-”

“Strong. Really strong. I don’t think I’ve met a man quicker with his fists and kicks than him. He can take hits too, blows I would struggle to live through, certainly wouldn't be able to stand still through.”

Climb and Brain both trailed off, the two lost in their recounting of events. Renner found the situation strange. Climb dumbstruck by a feat of strength or brawn was one thing, but for Gazef’s only worthy competitor to say the same was another altogether.

If that man is truly that strong, no wonder Climb walked back unscathed from the night. A proper guardian.

“I have not done battle with this Sebas before, so I cannot say which of us would be stronger.”

“Of course Ma-ister Momon is stronger than him.”

‘Ma-ister’? I did not expect the next confused referral to come from his own companion. Is there some enchanting force about this man that scrambles the minds of all that come near? This is becoming comical.

“Well, if my companion says so, then there must be some truth to the observations of both sides. I believe he should be able to stand on equal footing with me.”

“Good on you for checking my comrade, giving a more reasonable perspective… something which she’s not. Mm, actually, she’s unreasonable in general. Weird height. Weider personality.”

“Do you really-”

“Alright, alright; the two of you hush. No more of this in public. That’s an order. If there are no other serious matters to discuss, I say we go visit Tia and Gagaran.”

The two had been resurrected in the interim hours, though Renner suspected they were not properly living yet. A pang of envy struck her, a sincere yet sickly repetitive wish that a third had been given over to such a process.

“Mm. Yes. Oh, one thing; is it possible to use dark energy to destroy the enemy en masse?”

“Dark energy?”

Lakyus seemed to lurch at Evileye’s random question.

“Ah, I heard from Gagaran that the full power of Kilineiram could swallow up great tracts; if uncontrolled, the entire country.”

“Th-that is not a matter to speak of here! There are other things at hand!”

Renner piqued. Lakyus had not reacted to Evileye’s words, she had retaliated, an angrier tone having slipped into her voice.

Another point of stress. Her blade affects her, that much I know, but exactly how? Or, the sword’s power may be too much to reveal here. For either, Evileye should know better than to ask. This bears shelving.

At that moment, another door opened, not the double doors that lead out into the ballroom, but those from a smaller, sealed meeting space off of the drawing room. Out walked two a pair apparently ready to speak to Renner.

“Brother, Lord Raeven.”

“Your Highness.”

“Sister.”

“Igana, Elias. I have an introduction to make. These here are the leaders of each adventurer party which has listened to our request tonight.”

“Aha! You all have my sincerest thanks!”

“As do you have mine.”

Zanac gave an appreciative nod, Raeven also managing a bow. The lot bowed back, though with a stiffness that indicated more obligation than gratitude.

“Now, if you all would not mind. I would like to speak with the Count and the Marquis alone. Please, feel free to take out the map and ink. Though, before, - forgive me for not knowing the proper method of prayer - but if I may speak, I beseech the Gods above to deliver us all unto the dawn, alive and victorious. The hopes of Re-Estize rest on all of you-”

Renner turned an eye to the hero of the moment.

-especially you, Mister Momon. May the Gods turn a special eye to you.”

And may whatever wicked eyes have laid themselves upon me become distracted by you, and break away only to never spy me again.

The room took around a minute to clear - the last one out Climb, dutifully pulling it shut with his egress. Renner, finding the day had taken much more out of her than intended, let her act drop immediately, turning back to the Marquis and prince with the expression that seemed to so haunt them before.

“We caught most of the proceedings. Though, there’s one point I wasn’t quite sure on. Why the use of city guard? A battle line of them isn’t much. Are they impediments?”

“Bait.”

“That’s what the adventurers said too.”

“Jaldabaoth’s army cannot be allowed to run free - not in a cityscape. The death would be untold. Defending such a wide line without house forces is impossible. Therefore, his army must be sated. Filled, if you will. The guards are not there as fighters; rather, they are a feast. If Jaldabaoth’s fiends gorge on guards, they will be slowed; their bloodlust dulled, no? Blood on hot coals.”

“There has to be some better option here? I don’t-

Zanac fought down a wretch.

“Some… way that doesn’t involve sacrificing the city guard wholesale?”

“Igana, do not insult yourself; if there was a method, by now, you would have found it.”

“Then, permit me to seek clarification. Why are you sending out Climb? He’s walking into blind doom.”

“For the same reason why you two have men patrolling the city.”

Neither man followed up, both men giving static gazes of doubt. Renner let the moment drag, but as Zanac did not undo his sneer, and Raeven did not undo the cock of her head, she realized they had discerned her lie.

Ah, that telling was a bit too blatant. They doubt me. Make it seem a half truth. Acquiesce.

Renner gave an apologetic smile, this off putting her opposite pair to the point where they both jumped, much to her amusement.

“Climb has a chance of dying. A high one. If such a thing happens, Lakyus will call upon He of the Dark Depths and negotiate a release. It won’t be cheap, of course; a gemstone - rather, many - but no expense would be too high. And after he’s returned to us, Climb’s physicality will be… weakened; a loss of his life force. During that time, that… recovery, I will attend to him personally. Who can raise objection to a devastated princess doting on her no-name knight who was so tragically slain in the following of her accords?”

“I-I see… Thank you for speaking so… clearly. However-”

“What if Lakyus dies, Your Highness?”

“A reasoned concern, but one that I have accounted for. During the pitched and doomful period of our assault, there will be others at hand, additional people by her side for her protection. As she is valuable to me, so she is to the guildmaster; for her part, she does not want a person who can resurrect the dead to herself die. I didn’t need to negotiate.”

Besides, if Lakyus is to die, then my end is soon after anyway.

“It seems everything is writ already in your plans, Chardelon.”

“Quite.”

She widened her smile, gleefully watching as the two bucked again.