Five days passed by in peace, but even Dorothea knew better than to believe it would last.

A sickening sense of dread settled in the bottom of her stomach when Iree and Rhys barged into the dining room where she and Shark often spent time with Cerid, Ariana often tagging along under specific orders from Iree to ‘make nice’. She set her tea down with a trembling hand as Cerid, Ariana and Shark stood with her.

“Izozkia, the other fort city,” Iree said as she stopped sprinting to grab onto Dorothea’s shoulders. “It’s under attack; we just got the message. Bittersweet Nightshade magic is being used and the whole city’s been wiped out. Atlin, please. I need you to—”

“To what point in the day?” Dorothea interrupted, trying and failing to stay calm. “Wh… What will give us enough time to, to get organized before the attack starts?”

Iree smiled tightly in an attempt at reassurance. “Dawn. I need you to warn us about the magic as well as the fact that the attack starts with a diversion at the closest nearby village to the northeast. Also…” She glanced at Ariana. “Her sister will be part of the forces at that village. Don’t forget to tell me that, Atlin. Understand?”

“O-Okay. I mean, yes.” Dorothea took a step back and clasped her hands. Six hours, so six months gone, but it took less of a toll than reviving an entire Sacerian city and village would in the present timeline. In a blink, she was back in bed. All was gray and blue, gentle and dim before sunrise, and now she wished more than anything that things could stay like this.

After she ran to the next room over, shook Shark awake and explained the situation in rushed babbles, all of Udara burst into activity. Dorothea and Shark were soon gathered at the fort’s entrance with the rest of Iree’s squad. After establishing a guard for the fort in her absence, Iree put her hands on her hips and addressed her troops.

“Nice work, Atlin,” she said with a smile. “Let’s not waste her effort, everyone.”

The compliment was entirely lost on Dorothea, as she was busy being awed by the magnificent four-legged beasts that were snorting and swishing their tails about before her.

“Shark,” she breathed. “That’s… It’s a…!” Focusing on her amazement was the only thing that kept her from panicking.

“Yup. That’s a horse.”

“Oh. Oh my goodness. They’re so pretty!” She’d always been asleep or too sick to go see them when tradespeople had come to Sirpo from Sacer long ago.

Iree laughed. “Two people per beastie. Olyen and Creed, Kingfisher and Atlin for experienced riders with novices. Rhys, with me.”

Dorothea walked stiffly to where Ariana stood. “Um…” She tried to say something to cut through the awkwardness between them, as they hadn’t spoken beyond clipped superficialities since the incident in the diner, but nothing came to mind.

Ariana had hauled herself up smoothly and was reaching her hand down. “Hurry up.”

Dorothea grasped her hand and was shocked to find herself lifted as if she were featherlight. “Eep!” she squeaked, fidgeting against the feeling of the creature’s immense strength beneath her.

“Unbelievable,” Ariana sighed.

“Sorry,” Dorothea mumbled.

“No, it’s…” She let out an exasperated huff as the group started at a trot. “Someone who can turn back time is afraid of falling off a horse. It’s laughable.”

“I can get hurt just like any other person. Of course I get scared,” Dorothea said, swaying and unsure of where to put her hands as she tried to maintain the distance between their bodies she was sure Ariana would want.

Not responding directly to what Dorothea had said, Ariana ordered, “Stay calm and don’t clamp your legs down on her sides. Hold on as tight to me as you need to.”

Why was she being nice? Or had she just decided Dorothea wasn’t worth her anger anymore? “Okay…” Ariana’s torso was hard and strong as she gingerly encircled it with her arms.

“We’re gonna speed up now that everyone seems used to it. Hold tight, Olyen and Atlin,” Iree warned over her shoulder.

“Huh?” Dorothea cheeped before the sheer power of the acceleration almost sent her flying straight off. “Waaah!” She howled and squeezed her arms around Ariana’s midsection with all her strength.

Ariana let out a hacking wheeze from surprise, and Dorothea was ready for her to turn around and throw her off herself. But a hand came up to hold her arm instead. It wasn’t gentle, but it was somehow comforting. The raised flesh of the wound on Ariana’s palm felt overly hot and vulnerable as its fresh scab scratched at her skin.

Dorothea closed her eyes and pressed her face into Ariana’s back. She slid her palm to cover the back of Ariana’s hand and healed it.

Ariana stiffened. “Why?”

Her voice was almost lost to the wind whistling in Dorothea’s ears. She cracked open one eye to witness how the scenery blended into watercolor brushstrokes as they raced by. Sacer’s lands were green and full of life, so different from the land bathed in snow she’d always known.

“Because I wanted to,” she replied softly, knowing she wouldn’t be heard. Just because they didn’t get along didn’t mean she wanted Ariana to be in pain. She wanted to be different from the person she’d been before, the one who hadn’t cared about how others suffered.

Before she knew it, they emerged from a copse of trees to find their destination before them. Everyone else dismounted with ease, but Dorothea had to slip-fall her way down and then have Ariana hold her up until she felt steady again. Her legs were like jelly, uncooperative and wobbly.

“I’m so sorry,” she mumbled.

Ariana sighed. Her gaze was surprisingly soft, though that was only because it was neutral whereas Dorothea had expected more of her scathing anger. “Just come on.” She looped her arm with Dorothea’s, escorting her like a knight.

People were strange, Dorothea thought. The one who hated her most could also be the one she helplessly clung to without reservation, the one who let her do so without complaint.

Iree wore a patient smile as they approached. She stood next to a stern-looking soldier who had come down from the watchtower. “We’re going to caucus on top of the fort,” she stated.

“Caucus,” Shark snickered, and Cerid slapped their arm.

Iree smirked and shook her head. “Come on, my merry band of fools.”

Dorothea was at the back of the group as they went up the steps. As she prepared to follow the others, a tentative hand grazed her elbow, and she looked up to meet Rhys’ eyes.

He didn’t speak, instead looking to the stairs, then to the top of the tower, then back at her. He didn’t want to bring up in front of the others what had happened the last time her and heights had mixed and embarrass her, she realized.

“I’m fine,” she whispered, smiling to ease his worry. “Sorry…” Didn’t they all think she was pathetic? Rhys’ eyes were kind whenever he looked at her, but there had to be hatred somewhere behind that gaze. Surely there was rightful revulsion for her in all of them. Ariana had just made her feelings more clear than the others.

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He frowned and started to say something, but they were interrupted by Iree’s call. “Hurry up, you two! We’re on urgent business here!”

Right. This was all still her getting in the way. “Sorry!” Dorothea called back, holding her breath and skirt and running up the stairs to emerge atop the fort.

“This is her, is it?” The Izozkia soldier motioned to a mildly panting Dorothea once they had all gathered in a circle. “Your new ace. How…” She looked Dorothea over with a frown. “Inspiring.”

“What did you expect?” Iree laughed. “Anyways, the attacks are coming in the midmorning, so that gives us a little more time to reorganize and set up watchpoints along the wall’s perimeter. I’ll send two of my people to the village. You’ll organize yours throughout the city.”

The soldier smiled wryly. “Bossy as ever, Commander Nobelis.” She still obeyed without question, rushing off to spread the orders.

“That said,” Iree picked up without missing a beat, “Kingfisher and Olyen. Go to the village. It’ll be a little less than a mile east of here. I’d like you to use this opportunity to practice your teamwork. I have a gut feeling you’ll make a good pair.” She grinned. “Good luck.”

Ariana muttered something vague and set off while Shark took Dorothea’s hand and squeezed it. “Take care,” they said.

“You too.” Shark was strong, but nothing could stop her from worrying.

With Ariana and Shark gone, Iree gave more orders. Dorothea would intervene at her own discretion unless ordered by the commander or captain. Rhys would focus on subduing the Bittersweet Nightshade-user while any other enemies were kept at bay by Iree and Cerid. For now, they would wait and steel themselves.

“I know it’s bad, but I’m excited for this,” Iree laughed as they waited in an air sizzling with anticipation. “Those rats won’t know what hit them.”

“Rats?” Dorothea echoed. Iree said it a lot, but she didn’t really understand.

She waved a casual hand. “It’s a thing. They call us pigs, we call them rats.”

“Oh.” Well, she could understand the kind of hatred that would make the Sacerians want to lower the Ghurians like that. She didn’t exactly hold them in the highest regard herself. “Do you think Ariana and Sharkie will be okay? And the village?” she fretted.

“Of course. Don’t worry about them. Just focus on what’s happening here.” Iree patted her back with unexpected gentleness. “Listen. Everything will be fine.”

Dorothea nodded, hesitant. “If you say so, I’ll trust you.”

Iree smirked. “Good girl.”

Just as Dorothea thought about if those words made her feel diminutive, a strange shadow passed over Iree’s head. The commander glanced up, and then her hand slammed into Dorothea’s chest as she pushed her away.

Dorothea hit the ground winded and, when she collected herself enough to survey the scene, saw a boy land crouched, watched his lips part slightly as he let out a breath. The shadow had been from him sailing through the air, she realized in a slow, detached thought. A pillar of ice had launched him upwards, and now death had rained down.

It happened quickly. He sprinted towards Iree, Iree lifted a hand filled with spinning fire, his fingers just barely brushed the knee of her pants as she prepared to bring the flame crashing down on his head, and Iree dropped to the ground, lifeless. Her body crumpled in an awkward angle and her head smacked against stone, eyes rolled back.

The enemy moved without hesitation, swooping in towards Dorothea. His hand had bunched up the front of her dress before Cerid and Rhys got the chance to do more than take a few steps. He opened his mouth to say something, but Dorothea’s hands were already clasped together. Though she was too scared to even breathe, she screwed her eyes shut and turned back time.

She was once again standing next to a very alive Iree, waiting for the attack to come. Iree grabbed her arm as Dorothea staggered, gasping for air in terror.

“What happened?” Iree asked urgently as Rhys and Cerid approached, concerned.

“B-Bittersweet Nightshade, it, he’s going to come up over the wall near where we’re standing. H-He just killed you like, like it was nothing, and…”

Iree shivered. “But we’ve got him now.”

“We have about…thirty seconds now,” Dorothea breathed.

“Okay.” Iree gripped Dorothea’s lower arm, reassuring her with the strength of her grip. “Tell me where he lands.”

“From where you are… About three feet to the left.”

“Got it.” Iree looked into her eyes. “Don’t worry. I’ll make sure this time is different.”

Dorothea nodded. Twenty seconds. Fifteen. Ten. Five. And…

“Got you,” Iree hissed, turning a ferocious grin up to the flying attacker as flame blossomed in her palms. His eyes narrowed, and he drew something from the inside of a worn-out green jacket. He and Iree threw at the same time, and a ball of fire to the leg was traded for a blade to the shoulder. The knife had thrown off Iree’s aim, but the Ghurian still landed in a thrown-off heap.

Cerid leapt into action, pinning the attacker with a knee between the shoulder blades and both wrists seized to jerk the arms behind the back. The next moment, ice erupted over the top of the fort wall, spires grouped together to form a chilled prison around the Sacerians.

“Creed, no matter what, don’t let go of that bastard!” Iree ordered.

Two more figures entered through a slim opening at the top of the ice prison. Dorothea recognized them: one was the boy with goggles and one was a tall woman, both of whom had been at the border fight.

“Got yourself into some trouble, hm, Grenny?” the boy asked with a sly smile. Ice was spreading to coat the stones beneath them.

“Rhys!” Iree snapped. “Hurry up!”

Her captain withdrew a hand from his pocket and sighed softly. Water materialized in front of him, no, it was seized from the air, and quickly slid to coat the ice caging them all in. The water devoured the ice, assimilating it into its fold. With an almost lazy motion, Rhys sent a wave crashing down upon his opponents. Cerid jumped back to escape being locked in the spheres that engulfed the Ghurians. They writhed, helpless and alone in their own separate prisons, no air or escape. Light filtered through the water that was killing them slowly; all three seemed to have had the wherewithal to take a deep breath and hold it before being consumed, but it would only prolong the inevitable.

“Rhys can control any form of water he encounters, even if the magic isn’t originally his,” Iree explained triumphantly. She grinned at Dorothea. “That’s what happens when we catch them instead of them catching us. Again, good work.”

“What now, Iree?” Rhys asked, gesturing to the suffocating Ghurians.

“You decide. You’re the one who caught them,” she replied.

“What? But… Hm.” Rhys looked at the three, then back at Iree helplessly.

Iree heaved an exasperated sigh. “You’re always like this. Come on! You never had a problem going straight for the kill before, so what’s the big deal now? Just make a choice, Rhys!”

Rhys froze with something almost like fear in his eyes, and then his body was almost completely bisected, a straight crimson line forming across his stomach and tearing deep. He stumbled back one step, pushed by the force of the wind that had stricken him, before careening down limply.

Dorothea shrieked and ran to him, dropping to her knees in the pool of blood around him. It coated her skin through her clothes, hot and sticky, and sour bile shot up in her throat.

“Rhys,” she croaked after swallowing it back down, putting her hands to his cheeks. “It’s okay. It’s okay.” She looked at Cerid’s back as he stood between her and the enemy with his fists raised, and Iree came to his side tossing fireballs between her hands.

After his organs and flesh reconnected, Rhys came back to life with a gasp. He stared into her eyes as his color returned, labored breaths calming as he processed what had happened. His hand wrapped around hers and squeezed it in thanks, perhaps reassurance as well, before he leaped to his feet. “Stay behind me,” he ordered.

Dorothea let out a shaky breath and stood, taking a few steps back. The Ghurians were all standing now too, albeit still wobbly from Rhys’ trap.

“Augh, I hate this,” Goggles Boy was declaring in the middle of a cough.

“Healing certainly is a pain to deal with.” The tall woman looked at Dorothea as she wrung out her dress. “But it works through touch. So all we have to do is cut her arms off, no?”

Dorothea shivered. They were all terrifying, these Ghurians.

“Wesley, Johanna, calm down,” the Bittersweet Nightshade user said tonelessly. He dragged long dark hair out of his face and shook his head, scattering water droplets all about. “Same orders as before. Leave her alive at all costs.”

Goggles Boy, or Wesley as he’d just been called, grinned from ear to ear. “I’d hoped to keep it a secret for a bit longer, but I guess I may as well go all out.”

Only now did it register for Dorothea that the wind that had killed Rhys moments ago had come from this creep of a boy, but he’d already been shown to use ice magic…

Her blood chilled. Most magics were passed down through inheritance with clear dominant and recessive traits, but there was a miniscule chance of inheriting two magics. Like that, the fight had just become twice as dangerous.

Iree knew it too. “Rhys—” There was desperation in her eyes as she looked back at him, and it was the scariest thing Dorothea had seen yet. She cut off with a sharp curse as the tall Ghurian woman—called Johanna, apparently—suddenly withdrew a blowgun from the pocket of her dress. There was a needle sticking out of Iree’s arm now. “Fuck!” She plucked it out and threw it to the ground. “Creed, cover us!”

He narrowed his eyes and widened his stance. “Ma’am.”

“It’s thirty seconds, Iree,” Rhys said quietly. “We can hold out that long.”

“Don’t you fucking talk to me,” she snarled. “If you’d acted, we wouldn’t be in this mess!”

He flinched, making no move to deny it. Instead he spoke to Dorothea in the same quiet, resigned way. “That needle is coated in something that nullifies magic. Iree will be out of commission for half a minute.”

It didn’t sound so bad, but… As Dorothea soon learned, a lot could happen in thirty seconds on the battlefield.