The morning light of the sun peeked over the horizon, casting a wave of light over two gathered armies. Without a cloud in sight, not even a small shadow fell over either side.

Medieval wars were, quite possibly, the stupidest things Alyssa had ever seen. Lyria’s army was standing in a number of rows. Bowmen, pikemen, knights, arcanists… All just lined up like they were going to get lunch at the school cafeteria. Most stood in silence. Some whispered to their neighbors in some kind of nervous yet good-humored attempt at distracting themselves. More than one person had a prayer on their lips, asking Tenebrael for protection or for a swift death to their opponents. Those near her were especially vocal, maybe hoping that Alyssa would hear those prayers.

She was trying to avoid eye contact with just about everyone.

There was at least a mile, probably more, of empty desert terrain in front of the Lyrian army. Like the rest of the desert, it was fairly barren. A few sagebrushes were scattered about. A few larger rocks as well. It was a fairly clear area. Presumably good for an even fight, though that was one of the stupid things. Why would the Juno Federation walk out to some place that was roughly neutral instead of heading toward terrain that allowed their archers, cannons, and muskets to freely fire on an opposing force that was struggling to reach them?

Maybe the firearms were just too new and they didn’t have proper tactics for effectively using them yet. At the moment, looking through her binoculars at the other side of the no-man’s land, Alyssa could see the Juno Federation doing something similar to what Lyria had done. They were all organized into rows. Musketeers were kneeling down in the front with more rows behind them, much like what Alyssa remembered from her history class as Napoleonic tactics, though they had yet to actually aim their guns. Presumably because the long muskets were heavy and holding them ready for long periods of time was simply impossible.

The Juno Federation’s archers were in the back and cannons were scattered around periodically. The soldiers without long range weapons were waiting in the wings, likely to rush in and intercept any soldiers that made it through the hail of arrows and bullets—to protect the musketeers and archers. Of course, once the melee did start, the musketeers’ effectiveness would drop sharply. What were they going to do at that point? Just stand around and watch the battle?

Alyssa was not a tactician or a soldier. She had no idea how any of this was a good idea. First of all, and another stupid thing, she couldn’t believe that Lyria just stood by and let Juno arrange themselves into lines. Both forces had stopped moving at roughly the same time, but with their heavy cannons and unwieldy muskets, the Juno Federation was far less mobile. The few thousand yards between the two armies was apparently enough to make the longbows ineffective. Alyssa wasn’t exactly sure what the range on the muskets or those cannons were, but given that they weren’t firing, they probably weren’t confident in their range either. Yet Lyria could have rushed forward, swarming them before they could get settled in.

Now, another stupid thing, both sides were just standing around. What were they going to do at this point? Just wait around until one side decided to advance? For the Juno Federation, advancing was not a good idea with their cannons and muskets. They wanted people to come to them. But Lyria were the defenders. They really didn’t have to do anything and they would come out victorious. Lyria had the city at their back. They had quick and uninterruptible supply lines.

So both sides were standing around and only wanted to stand around. Mostly. Brakkt was riding up and down the lines, giving a speech.

“Once again, the Juno Federation is upon us,” he said, orating in a slightly strange way that made Alyssa wonder if his older brother had actually written the speech or if he was just that different on the battlefield. “Many of you were likely not expecting the call to arms last night. Twenty hours is not a lot of time to ready yourselves for war. Yet you are here. You have risen to the challenge. You know what is at stake. Our homes. Our loved ones. Our way of life.”

Unfortunately, Brakkt was riding up and down the lines. That let everyone hear him… but only in bits and pieces. He did have some magic amplifying his voice, but not enough to make it steady while riding Ensou. The lines were long, after all. As such, as he headed away from her, she missed out on a chunk of it. But she was only tangentially paying attention. Most of her focus was on the Juno Federation…

Who seemed to be doing a similar thing. A little pep rally before a battle that was likely to leave most everyone here dead. At least, that was likely what would have happened. On the way here, Alyssa had explained her plan to the others. Brakkt agreed and had offered a small suggestion. A little thing to help boost morale for their side and utterly crush it for the enemies.

Hopefully, anyway. It was a much more grandiose plan than what Alyssa originally had in mind…

But…

“Fear not. Their new weapons will prove ineffective this day.” Brakkt came back into earshot, raising his voice at the same time to perhaps reach even further over the crowd. “Tenebrael Herself is at our side this day.”

That was it. Alyssa’s cue. Biting her lip, she closed her eyes and readied herself.

It was, quite possibly, the most nerve wracking thing she could think about doing. And yet, Brakkt was right. If she pulled this off, it would be so drastically more effective than if she had gone with her original plan.

Alyssa snapped her eyes open, obliterating her sunglasses in the process. Slightly more confident given her recent use, she forced her stomach to play safe as she took off into the air, manipulating gravity as she went. She wished that she could stay right against the ground, or even right above Izsha again. But that wouldn’t be impressive enough.

Her whole goal, their whole plan, it all relied on her being impressive. Not just impressive. Awe inspiring. A terrific display in the archaic sense of the word. Terror inducing.

As she moved, she furthered the magic around her. Dark wings made of Tenebrael’s black light sprouted from her back. A halo outputting a bright light joined them. It wasn’t the brightest she could do, nor was it true divine light. The intention was to be seen. Blinding people so much that they couldn’t see anything would be counterproductive.

It was, however, more than enough to disrupt the Juno Federation’s pep rally. The horseback rider who had been speaking just about fell off his horse when the light first shined. Several members of their army staggered back, not quite breaking ranks, but close.

Throwing a glance over her shoulder, she couldn’t help but notice the Lyrian army being nearly unaffected. Brakkt was still talking. He probably hadn’t even stuttered. Many people had their backs a little straighter and their stance steadier. Seeing what was essentially Tenebrael fly up into the sky over the battlefield had to instill an invincible sense of morale into them.

At the center of the no-man’s-land, Alyssa lifted herself higher into the air. Looking down made her toes curl. Not because the musketeers were taking aim at her. It was the height that had her most nervous. The only reason she wasn’t forcing herself back down was knowledge of a Slow Fall spell card in her back pocket. She could easily cast it should something happen to Tenebrael’s power or her use with the gravity manipulation.

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The muskets, on the other hand, were quite simple to deal with.

Alyssa was destroying everything around her that wasn’t her clothes or air. It wouldn’t matter if it was a lead ball or a stone, if it came within three inches of her skin, it would vanish into the aether. Unfortunately, she couldn’t just sit around and take the shots. There would undoubtedly be misses. In fact, although they hadn’t actually fired yet, Alyssa was assuming that there would be a whole lot more misses than there would be bullets on target.

She didn’t have much faith in the accuracy of a first-generation firearm, first-generation firearm wielder, or smooth bore weapons in general.

Juno had not fired on Lyria before, but she had no idea about the distance they could reach when aimed upward. The arc could carry them right into the waiting soldiers.

A series of arrows launched themselves high up toward her. A dark cloud that looked like gnats while they were still at a distance. With her focus on the muskets, the arrows caught her off guard. It was a bit surprising. Luckily, most fell short of her. She didn’t think any of them would go far enough to hit the Lyrian soldiers.

They must have fired the arrows first due to their relative ease of reloading.

Holding her hands out to her sides, two mystic circles formed at her fingertips. One formed a transparent wall of pure magic, ready to obliterate anything it came into contact with, much like what happened to the two arrows that actually managed to reach her.

The other…

A bolt of lightning shot to the sky. A bright flash blinded everyone, forcing them to blink. The crack of thunder shuddered the very landscape. But the lightning was, once again, just for show. Just another intimidation tactic. The real miracle was going on up above.

The formerly cloudless sky darkened. Thick grey clouds coalesced low in the air.

One by one, drops of water fell from the clouds. It started slow. Drip. Drip. Drip. But it picked up speed. For every droplet of rain that hit the ground, another three fell a moment later. The rain grew exponentially. In mere seconds, the light drizzle turned to a torrential downpour. Water soaked into everything. Their gear. Their armor. And most importantly, their black powder.

Alyssa managed to keep the rain only on the Juno Federation’s side of the battlefield. A localized rainstorm that could never be mistaken for random chance. The sky hated them and only them.

Controlling the weather was not a completely unknown magic to the people of Lyria. It was a Rank Six magic that had never been converted from ritual form to the modern spell cards. Irulon had said that she wasn’t sure if it was possible to convert it. Every ritual had to be specifically designed for the local area and the general ambiance of the time. It couldn’t just create water either. If the air was too dry, they couldn’t just make it rain out of nothing. There was a spell that could create water, but only temporarily. Drinking it tended to do nasty things to a person’s body and caused crops to fail. As such, it wasn’t that useful of a spell.

The water raining down on them right now was real. It was up to their ankles. The battlefield had a gradient to it, sending the water off toward the east, toward the river than ran past Lyria. It was starting to become something of a flash flood. Especially at the one end of the lines of soldiers. She could see some gear running off with the water. People lost their balance.

Behind her, the army cheered.

In front of her… despair.

Ten or so muskets fired in her direction. She was pretty sure that more than that were supposed to have fired, but at this point, she doubted they would be able to fire much. It would take filling their muskets with dry powder, loading the bullet, and aiming up toward her all without much water getting inside. The cannons would be in much the same shape.

With just a little water, she put the enemy force at an extreme disadvantage. They lost their surprise weapons. Unless all the marksmen and cannoniers had backup swords, they were now effectively dead weight. There would be dry powder sealed in barrels and kegs—she had seen such reserves through her binoculars—but the moment they unsealed them, it would ruin the powder. A fourth of their army couldn’t effectively fight so long as she kept the rain going. It wasn’t just the gunpowder. Wool hauberks, tabards, and any other cloth would be soaked, making it heavier. Harder to fight in.

Would they still try to fight? Could their few arcanists do something to resolve this situation?

Alyssa watched, looking slowly from one soldier to the next. They were at a loss. She could feel it. Not in any empathetic sense, though she could definitely feel that, but this was different. She could feel their souls. The utter despair and disheartening came through to her sixth sense. Their prophecy was failing already and the battle hadn’t even started. Some were looking toward their arcanists, perhaps wondering the same thing that Alyssa had just thought. Some dropped to their knees, mud sloshing over their bodies.

A few of them, those down near the eastern end of the lines, actually lost their footing entirely. The water rushing down that side of the battlefield was high enough and moving fast enough that even a cannon, cart it was on and all, was no longer steadily anchored to the ground.

If the rain kept going, it wouldn’t be unthinkable for their entire army to be washed away. Which was, after considering for a moment, probably a far crueler way to die than simply casting an Annihilator to wipe them all out. Drowning was, as far as Alyssa could tell, one of the least pleasant deaths possible. Yet if she turned it off, the fight might continue…

The mystic circle in her hand was still working, still creating new water for the massive cloud overhead. Just as she was considering whether or not their morale was low enough for them to simply surrender outright, a voice at her side interrupted her thoughts.

“Warning: Tree Diagram errors detected.” Bastiel went completely stiff, eyes glowing with an intensity that Alyssa hadn’t ever seen on another angel. The angel wasn’t finished with her report, however. Alyssa remained silent, pressing her lips together as she listened to see if this warning was any different than the last several. “Six zero four. Flowchart syntax error. Parse error. Unexpected end of file. Automatic resolution failure. Authority caste notified.”

Bastiel’s eyes flicked to Alyssa, sending tingles down her back. “What does that all mean?” she asked, nerves firing warning sirens in her mind.

“Authority rapid response suggested temporary workaround: Revoke Spokespersons authority via local Dominion for subject Error: Undefined Angel Alyssa Meadows.”

“Wha—”

Alyssa tried to back away from Bastiel. Inexperience working with gravity slowed her. Slowed her too much. Bastiel’s arm snapped out. The angel’s thumb lightly grazed against Alyssa’s forehead.

An ice cold chill ran through Alyssa’s veins. She could almost see her breath forming ice crystals in the air. The divine warmth was gone. The ability to sense souls vanished. She couldn’t feel a hint of despair from the Juno Federation. The mystic circles in her hands shattered into pieces. Both the one continuing the storm and the one keeping gravity from grasping her.

Plummeting, hair whipping past her face as she fell, Alyssa’s stomach tightened into a ball. It took a few seconds before she remembered the spell she had prepared for exactly this situation. The second she thought about it, the Slow Fall spell activated. It thankfully worked just as it had the last time Alyssa used the spell when heading to the Bedehouse. Her descent turned from a rush to a gradual almost sinking into the body of liquid that was thin air.

Her feet gently touched against the ground. There wasn’t even a mild shock to her knees. She landed in an upright position, standing straight up as she looked at Bastiel.

The angel had not followed her to the ground. Five hundred feet up in the air, Bastiel still stared down. Those glowing white eyes, so similar to Tenebrael’s, were visible against the dark storm cloud that was slowly diminishing to nothingness. Her mouth was moving as well. Probably reporting to the other Virtues and Authorities and whoever else Bastiel so frequently communicated with. But from this distance, Alyssa couldn’t hear what was likely a string of errors.

A shout from the Lyrian army pulled her attentions back to the ground. She didn’t know what the shout said—it was too far away, she was surprised that she had heard anything at all—but…

But she was now standing right in the center of two armies. The magic wall she had created to protect Lyria’s people from stray bullets was gone. Her power of absolute obliteration was gone as well. Any bullets or arrows coming her way would actually hit.

She was alone.

Whipping her head back to look at the Juno Federation…

They did not look happy.

Not happy at all.

A sharp crack of a bullet crossing the sound barrier followed a vortex of air rushing past Alyssa’s position. One of the muskets managed to fire. Others had clearly and thankfully failed.

But the archers were picking up the slack. They might have fallen short while aiming for a target high off the ground, but now, Alyssa was well within range. Hundreds of arrows went into the air before vanishing against the darkness of the storm cloud.

Footmen, those who had managed to keep on their feet, were charging forward, chasing the arrows.