Bjorn came out from behind a curtain in the war-time equivalent of a general store, dressed from head to toe in armor.

He had recently taken to pulling his golden hair back into a braid rather than letting it droop down in front of his face. It was better for the steel goggled helmet on his head. He draped a black fur pelt over a new chain mail hauberk, which he wore over a dull blue tunic. Brigandine vambraces protected his wrists. The hauberk and tunic that reached down over his britches and nearly touched the cuffs of leather boots, defending his legs.

His torso was criss-crossed with leather straps and belts that held a loop for a new axe, a sheathe for his sword and a way to stow his spear, bolas and a collection of new throwing axes he bought. His shield had been repaired and refurbished with a fresh coat of black paint with the Valravn painted in bright blue.

“What do you think?” Bjorn asked, spreading his arms and looking at Taya, who was inspecting the armor.

“Hm...too much of...everything.” Taya said.

“Ignoring your Sklaveni insanity.” Bjorn scoffed.

“Then I think you look rather dashing.” Taya smiled.

Bjorn chuckled, “Dashing? I don’t look like a prince.”

“With the amount of money we’re spending on armor, you might as well.” Taya shrugged.

“Hey. We divided the fund between each of us and I stayed under budget.” Bjorn said.

“What’s the fur for? The Mesogeonian’s pretty warm.”

“It’d be for warmth if I turned the fur inwards. As of now, it’s for show. I’m not above a little flamboyance.” Bjorn rolled his arms, trying to break the clothing in.

“Alright, alright.” Taya said, “Now go finish off the list. I want to try something on.”

Bjorn took a bag of coins over to the shopkeeper, who had appeared to have bought up the inventory of every foreign arms dealer that had come by Koinelia in the past three months. They had at least a set of armor from every place imaginable and weapons galore.

“I’m taking this whole set,” he said to the shopkeeper, who’s eyes lit up with greed upon seeing the sizeable sum of money.

Bjorn started stalking the weapon racks and armor stands once again. They had several sets of armor and a cart’s worth of weapons already, but he still needed to get something for the Aotearoans. Normally Bjorn cared little about looks, but he’d found something aesthetically pleasing from everyone’s culture. Thing is, Aotearoans didn’t really wear much armor. But it wouldn’t look right for everyone to be decked out in lamellar and mail with two of them in grass skirts.

Though with enough searching, Bjorn actually managed to find some rather incredibly intricate textiles of Aotearoan origin. The islanders’ culture certainly had a fascination with feathers.

Bjorn paid for the clothes and added them to the pile of arms and armor that had been steadily growing near the store’s changing curtain as Taya walked out from it wearing her new attire.

Despite her questioning of Bjorn’s pelt, she wore a wolf’s pelt over their shoulder. Under that was a short, bright green tunic with a leather lamellar chest plate over it and a sheet of plaid fabric over that in the style of a Koini toga, tied on by a single leather belt. She wore a set of leather vambraces and boots as well.

“I half expected you to walk out of that thing nude.” Bjorn said.

“Would you have liked that?” Taya smirked.

“Guess we’ll never know.” Bjorn chuckled.

“But seriously, what do you think? I thought I might as well pull off something with more grandeur given what we splurged on for the others.” Taya said.

“I think you look...elegant.” Bjorn said.

Taya scoffed.

“Fine, fine. You look like a warrior queen ready to rip out the hearts of a thousand men. And not in the figurative way.” Bjorn chuckled.

“I’ll accept that.” Taya nodded with approval. She tossed another few coins to the shopkeeper.

With several trips, Bjorn and Taya moved what they’d bought into a cart outside the shop.

Bjorn was about to get in before Taya put a hand on his arm, stopping him.

“You wanna get lunch?” Taya asked.

Bjorn furrowed his brow, but nodded, “Sure.”

He stepped down from the cart and asked the driver to just bring everything back to the estate.

Bjorn pulled off his helmet to look slightly more civilian than he did. “So where were you thinking?”

“I hear good things about that tavern the boys went to the other night.” Taya said.

As the two strolled through Koinelia towards the tavern, people avoided them as though they had Plague. Which...technically they did, but their new clothes were much better at hiding it. No, Bjorn suspected the population believed them to be mercenaries or something of the like. Normally, that wouldn’t be a big deal, but their equipment portrayed wealth, and the richest mercenaries were likely to be the most dangerous.

Given the Mesogeonian climate, many businesses seldom needed a building to operate. But in certain areas of the city, it was perhaps better to be outside rather than in a building. Bjorn hadn’t been made aware that this tavern’s seating area was on a cliff that overlooked the Koinelian harbor.

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As the two occupied an empty table by the ledge, protected only by a small wall of rocks, Bjorn took in the sight.

Taya ordered a platter of food for the both of them before sighing, “I’ll be honest, I mostly dragged you here because I want somebody to process things with.”

“Process things?”

“I’ve been taking all this stuff in stride recently because so much has been going on, but now that everything’s slowing down…” Taya sighed, “It’s been a crazy few months, huh?”

“I think crazy is a bit of an understatement, but sure.” Bjorn chuckled.

“In just a few days, we’ve doubled our numbers, got direct contact with the Koini senate and got an estate to live in.” Taya said, “Though to be fair, most of that just came from joining up with the Easterners.”

Bjorn nodded, his thoughts drifting elsewhere, “Do you...ever think about home?”

Taya scoffed, “Every damn day. I shouldn’t, but...sometimes I wish things were the way they were when I was a kid.”

“How’d you end up on that island, anyway?” Bjorn asked.

“It’s a long story.” Taya sighed.

“We’ve got time.”

“You have a point.” Taya cleared her throat. “It all started with my old man. He was a smith in our village. He was a Shedim Master like me. But he never really used his abilities. Sklaveni druids know about Shedim Mastery, but their opinions differ greatly. The opinion of the majority now treats Shedim Mastery as demonic practice. By the time I first got my Plague Scars-they were just called Marks back then, but I think Scars sound cooler-my parents had to hide my abilities away. But my father wanted me to learn to use them. He regretted never learning to accept his own powers, so he trained me.”

“Let me guess, you got caught?”

Taya shook her head. “We had a few close calls when an archdruid came and questioned us, but nothing too bad until my fifteenth birthday. A storm tore through and decimated the village. I had to use my powers to save a friend of mine. But...well, I failed.”

“I’m s-” Bjorn cut himself off, “That must’ve been hard.”

Taya allowed herself a half smile. “Thank you. It was. I’d revealed my powers. My father told me to run, so I did. The druids chased me for what must’ve been weeks. I got away, but only because I never stopped running. Not for food, sleep or anything. I dropped eventually, and I was going to die. And I was going to let myself die. Until I had an epiphany. I was alive still. And so long as I was alive, I had the chance to make things right. I traveled around Sklava for two years, meeting with the archdruids who believed Shedim Mastery was a good thing and learning everything they knew about it.”

“And that’s how you learned about Armageddon?” Bjorn asked.

Taya nodded. “I came back to ask my father to join me, seeing as how he was a Shedim Master. But they had already taken him to the island. I went willingly since I thought I could find even more people there and...well, I was right.”

“Guess we’re all a little messed up, huh?” Bjorn said.

“Well, if we were perfect, think about how boring life would be.” Taya smiled.

“I don’t think it would be all boring.” Bjorn muttered, “As long as you were there…” he regretted it the moment he said it. “That was stu-”

“I’d want you there too.” Taya murmured. She was closer now, her scent like that of a sturdy oak. Her stormy grey eyes were on him and him alone. They were always so focused. Whoever she was looking at got a hundred percent of her attention.

The thoughts that should’ve been racing through his head would be warning him not to fall for it again. He didn’t want a repeat of the last time. He didn’t want to lose her.

No. he thought to himself, If you never try again, those failures will have been in vain.

Lightning was rushing up his body, but not on the outside this time.

He loved her. Or...something along those same lines. That much was clear.

He stared at her lips and though they didn’t move, Bjorn swore she mouthed, “What are you going to do about it?”

It was a challenge. A challenge that he wanted to answer.

All I can do…

Bjorn pressed his lips against hers.

At first, Taya was taken aback.

Then she returned the kiss in kind.

_________________________________________________________________

Ruhak felt...regal in his new armor. Or at least dignified enough to stand among the senate while Florentius worked to set up the companies.

He wore a light blue robe with loose sleeves, with a scale mail collar, plate pauldrons and a chest plate engraved with Hikupti symbols and imagery. His metal vambraces were secured over cloth wraps that hid his coiled wires underneath. He carried an undeniably Koini plumed helmet under his arm, though the metal still had designs reminiscent of Hikupti styles.

With him was Najeem, who had abandoned his turban for a black cloak with a large, concealing hood. He had covered his body in black cloth with red accents aside from a few parts where one could see lamellar or chain mail peek through.

They were the delegates of either party to ensure Florentius and the senate made decent terms for their allies.

After all, setting this up was important. A way to effectively fight the Nikan without expending troops was an opportunity that didn’t come by often.

Even the emperor had come to spectate.

That’s who Ruhak couldn’t take his eyes off of.

The Emperor of Koinelia was a slovenly old man who seemed more occupied by a chicken thigh than actually listening to the senate.

Ruhak, like many others, attributed Koinelia’s decline to a slew of poor emperors. It was time to oust them and vote in someone new.

“The funds redirected from the guilds were meant to bolster our southern border, not sponsor some...vigilante group!”

Unallowed to intervene, Ruhak couldn’t be bothered to listen until they had a proposal that no one was fighting against.

“Your grace, what would you propose?” one senator asked the Emperor, getting Ruhak’s attention.

The Emperor glanced up, “Hm? You say these people have arcane powers, yes? You there, boy!” The Emperor pointed a thick finger at Ruhak, “Show us your magic.”

“With all due respect, it’s not magic, your majesty.” Ruhak said.

“Well, show it to us.” The Emperor said.

Ruhak sighed and lashed out his wires, snatching the meat out of the Emperor’s greasy fingers and shredding it up.

The Emperor looked at the spot where his chicken leg had vanished in astonishment.

“Well, I say they must be a rather formidable force, don’t you think?” the Emperor asked.

How does that alone give you an idea of how effective a fighting force we are?

Whatever. At least the old man was in favor of them. Ruhak fixed his position slightly. Too formal and maybe they’d figure out he used to be an officer. And he did not want to be put in that position again.

With no doors to slam open, the only way to tell that the man who had suddenly burst into the senate room had urgent news was his heaving once he skidded to a halt.

“My good senators! His imperial majesty!” the messenger bowed, “News from the East! The Khongirat border with us has been crossed! The Nikan have invaded! The Eastern guards were overwhelmed! Some reports say there were upwards of a million soldiers!”

All was silent aside from the messenger’s heaving breath.

The Senators looked to the Emperor, seeds of fear hidden in their faces.

“We must defend ourselves, must we not?” the Emperor sighed.

The Senators broke into a cacophony of shouts and yelling.

“Draft up a call to arms!”

“Send for levies in Sklava and Sarfait!”

“Muster the Legions!”

The personal attendants of the Senators scattered to complete the tasks beset by their masters.

Ruhak looked to Najeem, his eyes wide, but the Asasiyun simply looked ahead, his hand gripping his scimitar hilt.

A million soldiers...Ruhak had never heard of an army that big, even when the Koini Empire was at its height. It dwarfed some empires’ very populations. How was it possible to even gather such a force, not to mention supporting it?

Senators started breaking off into groups to draft calls to arms and places where the couriers should go. As they did, Florentius took Ruhak and Najeem aside.

“I can already tell that this battle will be the toughest Koinelia has seen since its days as a mere petty kingdom.” Florentius muttered, “You are not bound by law or contract yet, but...we could use all the help we can get out on the battlefield. If deployed, we would put you in charge of your own retinues.”

Ruhak’s breath froze in his throat. Commanding men? He answered, “Senator, I’m s-”

“Of course.” Najeem shot a look at Ruhak, which gave him the desire to reel back away from the Asasiyun. “Without the Empire’s strength, we wouldn’t be able to accomplish our own goals of liberation.”

Ruhak could only look down in shame as Florentius thanked them and returned to the senators. Of course, they’d have to join. What was he thinking?

He was thinking he’d rather give up than be forced to be responsible for the lives of others again.