Tonight is a moonless night, the kind which comes along every once and a while and reminds you what darkness truly looks like. Something that might have been serene, if I didn't have over four thousand infantry at my back, relying on me for orders. We try our hardest to move and co-ordinate quietly, to act as a stealthy predator stalking around the city of Medhelanon, to deploy where they will be most vulnerable. But each beat of our drums is a low growl as we circle our prey, each blast of the horn is a hiss.

Standing amongst it, I can't imagine how we could possibly not have been noticed. But there’s no obvious movement in the city itself, no attempt to redeploy or sound an alarm. We can see any move they make, the lights their sentries carry and the braziers upon their observation posts are the only things we can see clearly on our midnight redeployment. They’re somehow blissfully unaware of our movement, and somewhere along our march I am left wondering if perhaps I have managed to re-earn the approval of some Gods somewhere along the way. I have no idea how, every day proves me more of a disgrace.

Katarina is having a difficult time remaining quiet, even if she’s apparently more than capable of seeing in the pitch blackness and leading her troops through it. Xena, contrary to my advice and later to my pleading, has decided to join us on the field in order to keep Katarina relatively calm and sedate during this action... I realize as we are almost in position that I miss Pasche something terribly.

Only, I am certain that she would do the opposite of helping me keep quiet. At least by the time my troops reconnect with those of Lazierte we will officially be in the louder stages of our plan.

The soldiers manage to arrive at our jumping off point, now it is simply a matter of correctly arranging them. Sappers and Grenadiers at the front to storm and destroy the palisade, fusiliers behind to surge forth and take the suburbs, riflemen behind them to harass anyone who might think to counter-attack. The plan seemed foolproof enough, except for the part where Katarina's Leather Priests refuse to go second. I guess we'll be finding out if their leather bayonets do any good against wooden fortifications...

There's a moment of calm as we wait for the signal to attack. A moment in which I know I can run away, be spared this, spare everyone this. But somehow, I feel more scared of running away than of attacking. I have resolved to be the creature that would attack, that would kill so others could live, surely this possibility of fleeing is itself more wicked and cruel… So I’m fine. I’m okay. I am more than capable of doing this-

“Serena. You’re shaking.” Xena pokes my cheek to get my attention, I’m not sure if that means something or not. “Are you okay?”

“... I’m not shaking-”

“You are.”

She’s correct. I’d been looking forward and trying to ignore it, but every inch of me doesn’t want to stand right here. My nerves are disobedient, calling my legs to sin.

“... I guess that I am. Sorry.”

Xena flicks my forehead, she looks more annoyed than she usually does when she ‘corrects’ my behavior. “No apologizing… Understanding. Are you okay?”

I have to be okay, why is my body making it so hard? Maybe I’m worried for Xena? “…You probably should be waiting back at camp. This isn't safe."

"No, it isn't safe. That's why you're here, and that's why I'm here." The look she gives me seems to imply that she thinks I'm an idiot, and honestly I must be one if I’ve offended her this much. "Nothing about any of this is safe so we should be sticking together where possible."

"... You're displeased with me."

"I'm displeased with what isn't you, General Pollineux."

Her non-sequiturs always manage to carry more ice than I ever assumed words were capable of. I have no idea what she means but whatever it is carries such intense significance that it hurts to even hear it. Katarina is staring at the two of us in intense confusion, even through the language barrier she clearly knows enough to know something significant and wildly confusing is happening before her.. She whispers something in German to Xena, who whispers something back. And suddenly Katarina is smiling at me, and says something gentle and sweet that I cannot even begin to parse. Xena gives me a look, a subtle indicator that she has absolutely no intention of translating what Katarina just said...

And then the Samnian guns on the other side of the city begin to sing. Shouts soon follow.

Our cue to attack. The drums beat like the gallop of horses, the trumpets blare loud enough for the gods to hear, and Katarina can finally be loud. The fusiliers advance, the riflemen advance, the sappers and grenadiers charge. And the Leather fanatics sprint, screaming prayers and insults in German. And I break into a run to follow, they’re running ahead of schedule! This almost got us all killed on the Po River, I need to stop them somehow!

The sentries on the palisade quickly find the priests barrelling down on them. They ring the alarm and man the palisade, preparing to hold their wall until help could arrive. Katarina kicks over part of the wall in a single strike, which quickly disabuses the enemy of that notion. The Greenjackets pour into the new hole in the palisade, and as I approach I hear the wet squelches of body parts hitting the ground, and the sharp sound of screams soon silenced. I followed into the new hole in the wall, and found the enemy position inside had already descended into chaos. Katarina gives a powerful scream, one which makes me feel dizzy and ill, and can probably be heard across the city. Her booming words are in German, but I can tell what they mean. It’s obvious in her smirk, this scream is a challenge to every Samnian in the city to face the bear woman in combat.

The palisade is now covered in dead and dying men, the Samnians are braver than the Magyar conscripts and are willing to hold their ground to the last man, the last morsel of flesh in their garrison. The Leather Priests have themselves clearly taken losses as well, and the time it takes for them to butcher their dead comrades into appropriate cuts of meat allows the sappers and grenadiers who were supposed to take the front to catch up, and see the carnage that they had missed. These are professional, well-drilled troops, they wouldn't flinch at a cannon being aimed point-blank at them, and they are terrified. They won't be able to continue the storming like this. I cast my magic over them, I need these men to be without fear...

Taking away the fear of the soldiers was, in fact, a terrible decision. Possessed by bravery the troops give a cheer and soon pour forth into the city, axes and grenades at the ready to destroy anything that dares stand in their way. I have to start running again to catch them, everyone is charging ahead of schedule and I do not appreciate it! Katarina and her Greenjackets join this stupid, impromptu charge, and at this point we are irreversibly pot-committed. At least this means we might be able to support Lazierte more quickly.

We pass through the suburbs relatively undisturbed, most folk have the good sense to remain in their homes and not try to resist the Avernian troops who are now stalking their streets. Some scattered Samnian soldiers do attempt to block our passage, but they are quickly shot to pieces by the courage drunk troops, or hacked to death by the Priests. This is… Going smoothly. Maybe this blunder will work to our advantage after all.

... I hear shouting. Very authoritative shouting from nearby. Some man on a horse, shouting something in a language I don't understand. It’s annoying, but it’s also utterly insane. This is a warzone now, doesn’t he know how dangerous this is?

Why have all the windows in town opened?

The troops are suddenly pelted with rocks, kitchen utensils, just about anything that the nearby civilians have to hand, as cityfolk surge from their homes with whatever weapons they could find.

It’s as if the entire population of Medhelanon has been driven mad all at once.

They throw everything they have, including themselves, upon our soldiers in a desperate attempt to halt our advance... And what does a courage-drunk soldier do when an enemy presents themselves?

The shooting begins, and the explosions follow soon after, as grenadiers answer the thrown cookery with thrown grenades. Sappers hack men apart as they approach with their makeshift weapons raised, the city road starts to run red with blood. This disorganized resistance is cut down with ease, it’s pathetic. The houses lining the city street catch fire, turns out throwing grenades into people’s homes at night is liable to ignite some things… I can hear them in there. The ones who threw things at us, and their children. They’re burning.

Our soldiers have been mauled, but our assailants have been slaughtered, and the last of them are now fleeing for their lives from a hopeless fight. I see the troops at the front aim their muskets at the fleeing civilians… Surely it’s what they deserve, right? These people attacked us, the soldiers deserve justice. A monster would hold her tongue, a monster would let them fire…

"Soldiers, with- Draw?"

I feel a sharp pain between my ribs, and turn my head to find that a young man has plunged a kitchen knife into my side. He must have been waiting in the burning ruins of the houses, waiting to strike.

He looks no older than seventeen, the age I was when I had been sent to the military academy. He’s shaking, he’s terrified. He knows he won’t survive this, I can see that clearly, and yet he thrusts the knife deeper, determined to kill me.

He is dead very soon after, a halberd descending upon him and cutting him in half sideways. Whatever motivated him disappears from the world as the meat slides apart. His remains fall… And so do mine, crumpling to the ground among the corpses, seized by an ice-cold pain. I shiver, I’m just another one of the corpses here.

Katarina is determined to see more corpses join me, giving a bellowing scream that stops some of the fleeing civilians dead in their tracks before she leaps upon them, followed by her loyal priests. She isn't making clean cuts anymore, this is wrath…

Unlawfully taken from Royal Road, this story should be reported if seen on Amazon.

She’s trying to avenge me, isn’t she?

I can’t say I deserve it. Then again, I haven’t harmed her as much as anyone else, have I? … I dragged her into the Art Gallery, I almost got her set on fire, absolutely got her shot, brought her into conflict with her brother... She has always shown me a smile, but I have never known her words or what she thinks. Have I wronged her too?

Somehow the wondering makes the knife wound feel almost pleasant. It’s an ending, a little piece of finality. Life is slowly leaving this odious thing I embody. It’s almost over. It feels… Serene.

"Serena!”

… Am I looking at an angel?

The firelight of the burning city illuminates the woman kneeling over me with an impossible beauty. Her dark brown hair is downright radiant and the brightness of her eyes rivals the blaze around us. Reaching over me, attending to my body, it is impossible not to notice the curves beneath her simple, practical, yet still somehow slightly immodest dress, or the soft and vulnerable skin shown by its tantalizingly low collar. Pale skin made beautiful by the light of burning homes, her tender flesh invites my teeth-

It’s Xena… It’s Xena and she’s gorgeous and she’s kneeling in blood and bodies so she can attend to my wound. Oh gods, let me bleed to death on the street, I want her and only death will make me stop.

"Xena... You don't have to-"

"Shut up! Shut up shut up shut up, you are bleeding and talking isn't going to help you!" ... Is she crying?

"I don't deserve-"

"I do not want to hear your excuses!" She's almost as loud as Katarina, I have to wonder if she's been getting lessons from our bear woman... Though her voice diminishes somewhat as she processes what I'm saying. "... You don't get to decide what you deserve."

"... But I'm a monster. I'm a monster who has done you wrong, who has made you upset for over a month.” Who hungers after you, and is failing to fight it... “Anyone here is more deserving of your care than me-"

"Well then fuck off and give me my Serena back! If you're so unworthy of me then give me Serena!"

Something else from her that I don’t understand... But this isn't cold and venomous like her confounding statements usually are. It’s messy and confusing and did Xena just curse? She’s weeping, another thing I didn't know she was even capable of. I still have no idea how to answer this demand, all I can do is fall silent.

I don't flinch when Xena pulls the knife out of me, I do however wince as she applies a viscous liquid to the wound, which somehow hurts more than being stabbed itself did. Then, she bandages me up, taking special care to not let any of her tears fall on my wound. She’s doing a remarkable job of it. She’s honestly quite amazing, she deserves to be made happy.

Wait… I’m going to live, aren’t I?

This concerns me, considering that I made Xena cry. It must be a sin to make a woman so beautiful cry.

I can’t bear to see her cry. I brave the pain to lean up and kiss her. She must have a piteous bone in her body somewhere for sinners and fools as she kisses me right back... She pushes me back down, allowing me to return to lying back down, much to the relief of my wound. Xena looks a lot more sure about this than she did when I kissed her back in Alesia. But she can’t stand to look at me, and seeing her face I can see her frustration.

"If you say that was just because I saved your life I will put the knife back in you, I swear." Xena manages to stop weeping, and the emotion drains from her face again. "I will not forgive you if you weren't entirely Serena just now."

"Entirely Serena?"

Yet another thing that leaves me confused. And something I might have even had the opportunity to question had life not given me something else to be concerned about. Namely, that shouting man on his horse, screaming the exact same thing as last time, the one that had started this bedlam.

Xena understands what he was saying at least, and she clearly does not approve. "Seems we’ve stumbled upon the King of Samnia here. He's demanding his subjects rise up to protect him from the foul Avernians."

"... We aren't all that foul." I don't quite know what else you’re meant to say in this situation.

It briefly gives Xena a chuckle, before she looks forlornly over at the corpses we are surrounded by. "Demanding innocent civilians to die to save his skin, the very people he swore to protect. What a boring king..."

Nothing about Xena looks bored right now, surrounded by all these bodies. At least we've managed to survive their onslaught, albeit barely. The troops hadn’t been prepared for an ambush by the people of Medhelanon, they’ve been quite badly mauled... Wait-

"He's... Calling people from other suburbs to come and fight for him... And we're the ones inside the wall. The next wave of them will be headed straight for us."

With absolute horror I realize that the butchery is going to crash against us again, and the troops here aren't prepared for it. And our second and third waves of troops must have gone down different roads, we haven’t been reinforced, we’ll be overrun! We're going to get slaughtered, we're all going to-

"Xena... Take the troops and get out of here."

Xena flicks my forehead, hard.

"No, really Xena. They're going to be coming straight for us and if you're here when they do then-"

Xena flicks my forehead again, hard.

"I... I can't protect you like I am now! I'm hurt, and I can't fight the entire population of Medhelanon for you! I'm sorry! You... You need to go-"

Xena flicks my forehead once again, harder.

"Please... I can't keep you safe here. The best I can do is buy you time to run-"

"Do you think I stand by your side for your protection?"

I struggle to find the words to respond to this, and Xena flicks my increasingly sore forehead one last time. Shots ring out. The Avernian troops still standing are beset by the people of Medhelanon, holding them off as best they can with the last of their bullets and grenades. I realize with some horror that my magic was stripped from them soon after I was stabbed, I simply couldn’t maintain it and it was the last thing from my mind as soon as I felt the serenity of death. My troops here will die, and they will die screaming.

And yet none of them run. They hold a line ahead of me, they’re protecting me just as the civilians are protecting their king. Xena, poor Xena, has even grabbed a musket from a fallen soldier and prepared to brace herself to fire it. Surely she of all people can tell this is absurd, she can't save herself or me like this! ... She won't even die for me, she will simply die to be with me. My final sin, as long as I draw breath I will make these beautiful, wonderful people die.

I roll over onto my stomach, much to Xena's shock and my own agony. I take one of the fallen muskets myself, aiming it forward. If Xena can do it, so can I. It’s a useless gesture, no god or decent person will forgive me for murdering Xena, but if I can buy her even a second longer then it’s worth it.

The mob slowly carves through the last line of defenses around me, some begin to slip through and charge at Xena and I. I shoot the first one, even wounded and lying on the street I can still hit a man-sized target at 10 yards. Xena fires at the second, and she manages to hit true unlike last time. I can’t reload like this, I have done everything I can. I wish I could feel that same sensation of peace that came over me before, but now that Xena is going to die with me all I feel is shame, compounded by the knowledge that I am a complete waste of good bandages and good friends.

"505th! Show no mercy!" ... Lazierte?

The crack of a musket volley makes everything in the world freeze. Causality itself is paralyzed by a shock that is only broken by another thunderous rapport of gunfire. Firing by rank, soldiers pour shot into the mob, making them fall in droves.

It’s enough to break them out of whatever delusion had them fighting professional soldiers for the sake of some shouting man on a horse who claimed to be their king.

They flee, and the men of the 505th chase them down and make them pay for their little uprising against us. The suspiciously high number of men from the 505th, more than half of whom I remember having died outside the Manor House in the Po River Valley. These numbers don’t add up, that or I’m not seeing straight due to blood loss. But it hardly matters now, we’ve been saved! Somehow we have been saved! Lazierte approaches the handful of my advance troops who have survived, doing the professional work of asking them what in the hell happened here. Her inquiries cease when she finds me among the bodies.

"S... Serena!"

She bowls over a confused sapper in her attempt to rush over to me, and is seconds away from cradling my limp and useless body before she’s stopped by Xena, who puts herself between Lazierte and I.

"Serena's condition is stable but she is still badly injured. I must request that you not do anything that might agitate her wounds."

Lazierte stops in place for a moment, before gently kneeling down among the corpses around me and taking my hand, holding it tightly. "... What did they do to you? Serena, what did they do to you?"

I try my best to rub my thumb over the back of her hand, but my hand disobeys and refuses to give the comforting gesture. "It was a kid. Like we were. Fighting for his sovereign... Where is the king? We need to stop him from calling for anyone else to 'defend' him."

"I'm sorry, the king?!" Lazierte is clearly taken aback, but after a flick on her forehead from Xena she manages to at least restrain her volume. "... The actual king of Samnia was here? Where?"

Xena spares me having to give an explanation, putting a hand on my mouth to discourage me from speaking any further. "Shouting man on a horse, keeps screaming in Samnian for the people to defend him."

"... I think I saw a man on a horse, flanked by other riders, trying to slip past my troops and outside the walls. I didn't bother to stop him, I couldn't waste any time in trying to support Serena's troops. Thank goodness I chose right..."

Well... The king escaped. But at least he can't incite any more of the people of Medhelanon to fight us here. Some civilians might even survive this! ... Presuming we could finish this battle before the city burns. The fires from our fight with the civilian population have started to spread to other streets,, and we can't exactly fight fires while we are still fighting Samnians. I try to rise to my feet, I need to command the troops to take the rest of the palisade, to seize the city center, to finish this. I need to do this... So why am I so useless?

Xena notices my attempt at motion, and rather than the usual forehead flicks she slaps me. "Stay. Put! Do I have to tie you up myself?!"

"I have to take command again! I have to... I have to put an end to this fighting, I-"

Lazierte rubs her thumb over the back of my hand with ease, giving me the best smile she can muster given the circumstances. "I'll do it. I'll take over from here. I may not be a Pollineux but... Well, I can be one tonight, as you require."

She’s blushing, but quickly steels herself, making herself as resolute as possible... My sin again, now Lazierte has to wander the world of violence in my place, just as I had forced Xena to. Poor Lazierte, poor beautiful Lazierte, poor beautiful, caring, loving, tempting Lazierte-

I need to get up or bleed to death trying, I cannot allow her to endanger herself when I’m still not dead-

Xena slips something into my mouth, and since I am a perfectly abnormal girl I quickly swallow whatever it is... My vision quickly fades and my eyelids become heavy. An almost tangible darkness swallows my limbs, my chest, and is encroaching upon my head. The city fades from view, and sounds are further and further away...

"Xena, was it? I can trust you to get Serena out of here safely, can't I?"

"Of course... And I can trust you to put an end to this ridiculous fighting, can't I, Madam Pollineux?"

"... You can count on me to win the entire war."