Raptor One, Raptor Two, Olympiada is open. You have the green light. I repeat, you have the green light. Send the Second Spear.

The sound came first, then the sight of it, then Iliyal realised what he was looking at. A massive white eagle, pure as snow, the moonlight brilliantly reflected off it as if it was lit up by spotlights. The eagle cried again as Iliyal jumped out of its shadow to avoid another swing of the centurion. Every man in Drayim Fortress stood still and looked up at the great winged beast. Paladins lowered their greatswords, his own Legionnaires looked up in surprise and awe.

Iliyal had seen enough Divines to not be impressed with such grandiose shows any longer, whereas Theosius’ automatons were set on completing their task. The front one, with its leg that had been damaged by explosives still swung two glaives around in an attempt to reach Iliyal. There was a sweet spot with these robots, too far and they would lunge forwards, too close and they would cut a man down as easily as a hot knife slicing through butter.

Iliyal’s eyes flicked upwards just in time to see that snow-white eagle dive down onto the ground. It was as large as a house, its beak as bright as yellow gold, and with talons easily the size of a man. Those huge curling claws opened up as the bird arcs its feet forwards, the eagle let out another shriek as it fell through the sky like a cannonball.

A figure jumped from it. A tall figure, taller than Iliyal. In a chest-piece of clattering scale armour that sounded like jingling chains and a skirt that was even more cacophonous in its loudness, underneath it garments of pure bright red. A curved sabre held in one hand and hair as white as the eagle’s feathers that was blown by the wind as it picked up speed.

At the last moment, the figure crouched, she spun in the air, made a fall, and kicked into the ground. Cobblestone cracked and turned to dust, before being kicked up into the air and blown away by the night-time breeze. The automaton didn’t even miss a heartbeat, its glaive swung immediately to behead the figure. Blade rose to meet blade and the Divine was knocked back slightly, her knees bending as she groaned to throw the blow black. Iliyal could only stare awestruck. It had to be Kassandora’s plan, some negotiations that came through at the last moment, when he met the Mascot Divines during the meeting in Arika, they were a sorry lot who wouldn’t even speak unless given permission to open their mouths.

And Iliyal stared at his saviour, what strings were pulled, he did not care. Plans changed once again, with a Divine under his command, there would be no retreat, there would be no pulling back of forces. The original goal returned, the Divine Armoury would once again be opened. Brilliant white hair blew again as the Goddess raised her sabre and pointed it at the sentinel. Blue sensors spun on the machine, it raised its two free hands, the other two glaives were still used as balancing sticks as they cut dark grey cobblestones.

“I am Olonia, Goddess of Lubska. This is my nation.” Her voice boomed across the entire fortress, rife with a dreadfully cold anger that gave no room for any misconception about who she was targeting. “I veto your right to remain to this land.”

The white eagle above her cried and finished its dive. Talons, each one as large as Iliyal himself, wrapped around the sentinel, the sheer weight of the beast crushed gold-bronze alloy. Cogs and gears fell out of place as the bird closed its grasp around the sentinel, the blue collection of gemstones that made up the automaton’s vision array burst out. The eagle lifted its head into the air, spread it wings out and screamed. Even with the earplugs to dull gunfire, Iliyal grabbed his ears to try and shield them from the sound. Glass windows in the keep and the vans that the assault had been used to breach this deep in shattered into a faint mist and shards fell onto the ground as men fell. Iliyal’s own Legionnaires in black covered the ears, whereas the Paladins, in their steel helmets had no luxury, they collapsed to the ground as Iliyal saw the beast move again.

He had seen enough flying in the Great War to realise what was about to happen, and the elf dived onto the ground, his fingers found gaps in the cobbles that made up the courtyard and he poured all his strength into those muscles.

The eagle slammed its wings down and lifted into the air. Men blew backwards, Paladins in their heavy armour were slammed into walls, shields and swords were scattered into the air, and even the heavily armoured black vans rocked from side to side under the terrible winds caused by those massive wings. The eagle lifted off the ground, beat its wings again, and dropped the carcass of the sentinels as if it was a rabbit to kill. The hunk of gold-bronze alloy slammed down onto the ground and crushed several of Maisara’s soldiers underneath it. Only Olonia remained standing, her scale armour jingling in the winds as her curved sabre moved to point to the second automaton.

Her eagle turned in the air, its wings closed around its body, it flew in an arc upwards, stalled its flights and dived down. Huge talons rended metal into shreds. One huge claw tore the sentinel’s arm off. A glaive twisted and stabbed upwards into the eagle, it screamed another ear-piercing cry, more glass shattered, and then its head shot downwards. A huge yellow beak pierced through armour, its hooked talons tightened, and the sentinel was torn apart.

Olonia took a step forwards, sabre swinging from side to side as blood leaked from the bird above. “Can you take them?” She said quietly as Iliyal jumped up to his feet.

“RALLY!” Iliyal lifted his sword. “RALLY! THE DIVINES ARE WITH US!” Sometimes rallying cries needed to be long, they had to carefully meld words into shields that wound guard the hearts and minds of men. And sometimes, a rallying cry only needed to say what was happening. Right now, it was the latter.

Iliyal’s men got to his feet, a few had their rifles blown out of their hands. “Out of the way Olonia.” Iliyal said, a human, he would simply push over, but the woman was a Goddess. “MEN READY!” Iliyal lifted his arm, his sword shining in the reflection of the moon. He turned to the side. His Legionnaires were lying on the ground, hiding behind crates, kneeling, a few in the rear stood and some four dozen barrels were ready to unleash hell. Iliyal turned back to the Goddess, she was stood there, looking at the carnage, her blade still in the air. Iliyal narrowed his eyes as he inspected her reaction. Was… was this the first time she had seen what a battle looked like? “OLONIA! MOVE!”

The Goddess jumped to one side, her scale-mail jingling again as she turned to look in shock at the elf. Iliyal didn’t give her a chance to reply or be angry, he swung his blade down. “FIRE!” And every rifle opened from his forces opened fire into Maisara’s men. Without the centurions to serve as walking shields, there was no nothing to stop that crushing hail of lead.

A few Paladins dashed forwards, they were the first to fall. Bullets streaked into them and pierced their heavy plate armour. They fell flat on the ground, Iliyal’s eyes watched the enemy squad. A few managed to run back into the keep, several others raced through the broken gate of the inner wall. They jumped over rubble and splintered woods. And those who were in the centre of the square, too far from any cover whatsoever, simply fell. Blood started to flow the holes in their armour in thin streams that discoloured even more of the cobblestone. And Iliyal’s plans changed again, with a Divine on their side, then the main gate would be the best route. Side doors were simply too small for beings of that size. “STEADY!” Iliyal called out. “STEADY! HOLD!” He waved his sword and his men stopped firing. “TEAMS ONE AND TWO, THE REST SUPPORT!”

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He sheathed his blade, holstered his pistol and picked up the rifle and a few magazines that the sappers had brought, then looked up at the eagle crying out above them. “Is it hurt?” He asked Olonia.

“Slightly, it regenerates.” Iliyal nodded, like Fer then. Nothing too unusual about that. He thought of what to say, at first, he was going to question why she was here. There was no reason for that line of talk though, it would lead to either finding out some trite information he’d learn later, or expand into an argument. Whether she knew that was following Iliyal’s orders already or not wasn’t important. When Iliyal had shouted to move, she moved. That set a precedent, and a precedent set a hierarchy, whether Olonia was conscious of it or not.

“Can you fight?” He asked the Goddess and Olonia looked down at herself. She made a wide stance to off her armour, curved sabre still in hand. Those swords were used in the past by cavalry men, but curved sabres had begun to fall out of fashion as the Great War was coming to a close. Swords could stab and poke and faired far better in the dirty brawls between hundreds of men.

“Can I?” Olonia asked. “Look at me.” It looked like traditional eastern-Epan armour. Scales of steel overlapping one another and the battle-skirt was common enough among Divines. When beings were that fast, then movement was preferred.

“Very well.” Iliyal said as he put a fresh magazine into the rifle, chucked the empty onto the ground and started stalking around the edge of bodies. It was common enough for soldiers to play dead, he would have put a bullet into each of their heads himself if he had the time and the ammo. “Do you know what we are here for?”

“To free the weapon-Divines and assure the safety of Lubska against the White Pantheon.” Olonia said it as if from a script and Iliyal tilted his head as he looked at her. Fer would have merely laughed, Kassandora would have given a natural answer, Neneria’s would have been shorter, Anassa’s… He’d rather not think about what Anassa would do if she was questioned.

“Very well.” Iliyal said. “I don’t care how you deal with your politicians, speak freely here.” He remembered how odd it was to have silent Divines in the meeting back during the Arikan Congress. He let the men take the vanguard position as they leaned past the broken gate that had been blown up. This corridor was tall enough for centurions, so it would be tall enough for Olonia. Iliyal’s suspicion was that the tall corridors would lead directly to the Armoury since the Divines of the White Pantheon would want to access it. One of the men in black fired off a short burst and the clatter of steel was heard from inside. Team Three took the rearguard, they also fired off intermittent burst. The battle had died down, the Paladins would be fine to let the men exhaust their weaponries, and they would not come close now that a Divine was present.

Iliyal watched Olonia move. It was confident steps, but her eyes deliberately avoided the dead on the ground. Her steps were definite, but also deliberate, as if she had to force herself to move. He had seen it too many times in mortals, but now a Divine? First time for everything he supposed. “Are you nervous?” He asked the Goddess, it was obvious that in this situation she had lost most of that glorious bravado as to when her friends were present in the AIC.

“No.” Olonia replied and Iliyal smiled. What a lie.

“Don’t be.” He said calmly as he lifted the rifle up and turned to look inside the corridor. A few of the armour stands had been knocked over, one of the swords that hung on the wall had toppled to the floor, but it was still as clean as before. Apart from a small trail of blood leading to a smaller corridor and a body lying in the centre of the ground. “You’ve never been in a real battle, have you?” Iliyal asked. He gave a hand signal, palm and fingers flat, and Team One entered as Team Two provided cover from the door.

“I’ve sparred with the others.” Olonia said.

“The other nationals?” Iliyal asked.

“Mm.” Olonia confirmed. Team One carefully crept through the centre of the corridor in a narrow line. They made sure to keep distance to any of the doors, rifles pointed towards each side of the corridor. They made it to the door at the end and Iliyal walked forwards, Olonia came in close behind him. “Now that I am here, we have to succeed.”

“Kassandora wouldn’t have sent me if the plan was to fail.” Iliyal replied, better to build up rapport now. This could be exploited later, nothing made friends as quickly as fighting together. “It’s my operation though.” Iliyal said, he glanced at the Goddess and blue eyes framed by a pale face and snow-white hair stared back at him. And Olonia said something Iliyal had only dreamed of a Divine saying to him.

“Of course.” He almost missed a step. He was so stunned for words he didn’t even have anything to say. Of course it was the sensible decision to be made, of course it could be explained as to why she would listen to him, but that was simply not the way Divines worked. He sighed and finished walking through that grey corridor. The lights were electric, they hung off the walls and there were enough to chase even the smallest inkling of shade away. Iliyal took a deep breath and turned. Team Three was starting to retreat, ammunition issues most likely, the men had been trained to shoot, but every soldier would be either too cautious or too sharing with his ammunition the first time round. He waved for everyone still outside to follow, there was more than enough space here for all of them, and the number of men had shrunk to a mere sixty compared to the hundred of what he had originally.

“If there’s anything big, I want you to fight it.” Iliyal said to Olonia. “We’ll provide support.”

“I understand.” Olonia said as she looked around, then stopped. “Before though…” Iliyal placed his arms on the wooden door at the end of the corridor and stopped. It was a huge thing, more than wide enough for a centurion, so easily large enough for Olonia.

“Yes?” Iliyal asked.

“I thought…” Olonia trailed off. “There’d be… I don’t know really. More…”

“Battles are always like this.” Iliyal said flatly. “You know what the most important skill of a soldier is?”

“What?” Olonia asked, her fist was clenched tightly around her blade.

“Patience.” Iliyal replied and pushed the door open. Frankly, he wouldn’t mind having a sit-down chat with the Goddess, but now was simply not the time.

The doors swung open and Iliyal felt his heart drop. He expected the massive open hall, supported by pillar. He expected the grey banners. He expected the hundred or so Paladins at the end of the hall. He did not expect the man sitting on a chair the size of a throne in the middle. In Maisara’s grey Paladin plate, but larger and fashioned for Divines. The fact he was smiling and tapping his fingers on the arm rest was a terrible sign.

“Iliyal Tremali.” The God said. “My my, what a surprise. Maisara warned about you, both long ago and recently. I’ve always wanted to meet the mortal who survived the Great War.” His eyes passed over Olonia and the smile dropped. “And the Lubskan mascot, lovely.”

Iliyal spoke before Olonia could say anything. “Who are you?”

“I am Waramunt.” He stretched out and a silver greatsword appeared into his hand. “Divine of Drayim Keep, but I prefer to call myself the Spirit of this Fortress.” Iliyal saw the way he moved, it was nothing like Olonia. His steps were light yet definite, as if he was always ready to pounce, his fingers weren’t wrapped tightly around the hilt of his blade and his arm was loose and relaxed with its swings. His eyes flicked over Iliyal’s soldiers in the same manner Iliyal’s scanned the Paladins behind Waramunt.

Iliyal turned back to Olonia. “Have you ever killed a man before today?” His head barely reached her bosom, but she looked at him with the expression of a newborn babe looking at her father.

“No.” Olonia replied quietly.

“Then today you will learn.”