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Diamondback Fleet, Enduring Freedom

OUTER RIM, SECTOR 519

Commander Iron never thought of himself as a believer in hope, a result of his time serving in the Grand Army of the Republic for the past two years. No simulator or training exercise could prepare a freshly minted clone trooper for the horrible reality of war, where the possibility of watching their fellow brother die in the most excruciating way possible. Resulting in Iron's initial excitement for a battle to be quickly shredded into pieces for him when he first stepped onto the battlefield against the droid army and their allies.

He knew most clones aspired to join the ranks of legions such as the 501st, the 212th, and the 82nd, a unit led by himself and their Jedi general. What trooper didn't want to be up in the front lines, fighting the good fight against the Separatist Alliance. They were trained from birth to be the best warriors in the galaxy and help fight to restore the peace.

'Two years of fighting and nothing has changed between either side,' CT-5162 scowled at the idea of the Republic and the Separatist Alliance finding any kind of middle ground, considering how far the two have gone to destroy each other.

As the vast fleet of Republic warships traveled through the vast emptiness known as space, their intended target was the friendly station of Titan, located deep in the Outer Rim. It had been about roughly two days following the successful assault against the Separatist Alliance located on a world known as Irus. Celebration in the form of drinks had been their tradition after any successful engagement against the enemy forces, yet none of the troopers were hardly in the mood for anything. In fact, a sense of defeat managed to worm its way into the minds of the troopers.

Unfortunately, the clones of the 82nd Sky Corp suffered their greatest loss of all; losing their Jedi general. With the battle taking place in space, in the air, and on land, losing communications with any forces was bound to happen at some point during the fighting. Yet, when the general went silent for a period of time, the troopers grew concerned at what might have happened to him, however, their minds forced them to focus on finishing the battle against the droid forces.

None of them felt more guilt than Iron himself, 'I failed him. I let him down when he needed me the most,' lamented Iron, his sorrow was quickly replaced with anger towards himself.

Fighting against the droid army meant always being outnumbered in every single engagement by a factor of ten to one. Even against such overwhelming odds, Iron and members of the 82nd Sky Corp always held against the tide, no matter how many droids are thrown at their forces.

The reasoning for such determination in battle was because of the Jedi Knight who had been leading them into battle against the Separatist Alliance for the past two years.

He was a man who seems to never let up and appeared to have a good head on his shoulders from what the clones have seen so far. Not many Jedi could have the same thing said about them during this war.

Iron knew the 82nd Sky Corp was going to be out of action for quite some time, mostly until they can find a replacement for general Marshall. His helmet hid the regret and anguish buried underneath his brown eyes. None of the officers on the bridge bothered the commander, knowing how painful it must have been to hear the loss of their general in the chaotic fighting for the world of Irus.

'Feels like just yesterday when I was assigned to him,' Iron always felt like the Jedi nor the Republic knew how to wage a proper war against the Separatist or, their alternative name for certain diplomatic situations, the Confederacy of Independent Systems. To win a war, strong leadership and patience were necessary.

Unfortunately, the Republic and most Jedi seem to fail to grasp this basic concept on any kind of level.

There are exceptions to this rule such as individuals like general Kenobi, who led the 212th, and general Skywalker, a talented Jedi leading the famous 501st into battle after battle. For Iron, the Jedi known as Pax Marshall looked at them, not as expendable cannon fodder, but as soldiers who wanted a leader they could trust and would make the right decision.

His thoughts faded into the back of his mind when Iron heard the familiar accent of the admiral who commanded the fleet, "Prepare to dock with the Titan! I want no issues, understand?"

"Yes, sir!"

The crew soon fell back into line and went to work, preparing the Venator-Class Star Destroyer for docking with the massive space station known as the Titan, located around a small moon orbiting a desolate world far from any real battlefield in the Outer Rim.

Originally built during the era of the Old Republic, the space station was created with the intention of being able to dock and repair any starships the Republic would use during a war. It was capable of being able to dock up to about over a dozen Venator-Class Star Destroyers at any given time. There was also a medical facility, space for thousands of troopers, and could be used as a communication center for all forces in this sector of the Outer Rim.

"Even after two years, the Separatist have failed to attack this station," Killian said, catching the attention of the clone commander.

Iron found himself gazing at the space station, remembering the few times they're legion has visited this facility during the course of the war. The clone shrugged, "I doubt the Separatist are willing to give up. Their last attack contained a few Providence-Class carriers from what I heard from the men here."

The older man scoffed, "Separatist certainly have no issue throwing away ships like their battle droids."

"I mean, they do have a droid army, sir," commander Iron replied, "As long as they have the numbers advantage, they hold a chance of breaking through the lines here."

Both men shared a somewhat friendly relationship, usually filled with conversations ranging from how the men were doing or occasionally joining them for a drink down in the mess hall. Clones were usually frowned upon by most within their own faction, some senators even making a point of using the fact that clones, mentally speaking, were no older than a thirteen or fourteen-year-old child.

Physically, they were extremely well-trained and very capable soldiers on the battlefield.

For all the good they've done for the Republic, their very existence was called into question so many times when politicians debated about the possible solutions of ending the war. However, general Marshall always seems to stand beside them when few seem to do so.

The clone commander sighed in exasperation, "Things aren't gonna get any easier from here on out."

"I'm afraid so, Iron," agreed Killian, who understood the long and arduous process of having to find another Jedi capable of leading the 82nd Sky Corp. Compared to the many other clone units, they were a veteran unit capable of taking on even the fiercest of enemy positions. Finding another leader who could inspire his troops a before battle and earn their respect was going to be quite difficult for the Jedi Council.

Once the warship came to a stop, Iron knew the men were itching to get off and get some rest after nearly a week of continuous fighting against droid forces on Irus. It also meant they could get the wounded to see proper medical attention as he knew the Venators were built to be all-around cruisers for the Republic, not medical frigates.

The commander turned around and headed for the doors leading to the elevator.

"Iron."

"Yes, Admiral?" Iron asked, his voice was devoid of emotion. It sounded like the admiral was talking to a droid by how little emotion dripped into the commander's tone.

Killian pinched the bridge of his nose, "I know you and the other troopers are taking the loss of the general quite hard," he said, realizing how careful his next words needed to be, "...Out of all the Jedi I have met in my life, Pax was different than most. He certainly made me realize not all Jedi are bound to some glorified teaching they still use without even questioning it."

The admiral saw the faceless helmet of the clone commander, decorated in the black markings to signify their allegiance to the 82nd Sky Corp or more properly known as the Screaming Banshees. He continued with his words, "Pax has been leading you and your men for the past two years, fighting and clawing your way through missions that would have utter suicide for any normal unit attempting them. The man not only proved himself to be a leader, but he also showed you and your men could be more than what those bloody politicians on Coruscant could ever know about any of you, in their lifetime."

For a moment, silence filled the bridge until Iron nodded, "Thank you, sir. It was an honor working with you, Admiral Killian."

A smirk appeared on the older man's face, "Aye, I could say the same to you and your men. I hope we get the pleasure of working together again. You lots are certainly better company than most would expect."

Iron chuckled at the friendly barb, "Appreciate that, sir."

With those final words, the two went their separate ways as Killian walked back towards the front of the bridge while commander Iron tapped on the console, causing the door to slide open. Stepping into the elevator, the commander had time to think to himself and come to the realization that their unit was going to come under the leadership of someone else.

'Let's hope the Jedi can actually pick someone reasonable…for once,' he silently wished, except Iron had recalled the numerous decisions they've made over the years like the whole situation that had happened on Umbara involving the traitor known as Pong Krell.

Placing his hands on the side of his helmet, Iron lifted it up and examined the very thing that has defined him and his brothers for so long in this war. Once a source of pride for him and his troops was now nothing more than a glorified target for allies and enemies alike. A frown made its way on the trooper's face until Iron remembered the words of his general from one of the first times they ever spoke to each other.

"There's a difference between hearing the words said about you guys and actually accepting them as the reality for you and all your brothers, Iron. I won't pretend to understand your position, and don't lump all of us in the same world."

'General Pax always had a way with words,' Iron shook his head when thinking about those words.

Just as the elevator doors slid open, Iron was greeted by the sight of his men making their way towards one of the many structures connecting the, now docked, warship to the rest of the space station. Each of them appeared to be carrying a duffel bag filled with any spare clothing and a few personal belongings some of them owned. It didn't take long for one of them, most likely a new member of the 82nd, to draw attention to their overall commanding officer.

"Commander Iron!"

Once those words came out the trooper's mouth, the rest of them quickly dropped their belongings and saluted their superior without fault, causing Iron to do the same before replying, "At ease! Boys, I suggest you hurry up and get off this boat for some R&R."

"Sir, yes, sir!"

A smile crept onto the face of Iron when he heard them manage to say it at the same time. One wouldn't expect someone of Iron's status as the commanding officer of an entire Sky Corp to find much time for anything outside of preparing battle plans, giving out orders, and assisting their Jedi general in battle, but even a commander like Iron needs some joy.

The troopers picked up their things and made their way off the Republic warship, leaving Iron alone in one of the many corridors connecting the sleeping quarters, armories, and even the hangars on board. A sigh escaped Iron's lips as he remembered the amount of work waiting for him as they were getting brand new recruits for the 82nd Sky Corp to replenish the losses they suffered in the battle against the droid forces.

'Seven-hundred and sixty-eight lives lost during the fighting,' the number was almost equivalent to two battalions being lost in the fighting and there were plenty of wounded troopers when the battle had come to a roaring end when the Separatist base was finally taken by their forces in the waning moments of the fight.

"Sir!"

Raising an eyebrow, Iron decided to put his helmet back on when he saw a trooper running towards him. The clone in question had a series of markings that some might say looks more tribal than some of the more artistic designs created by their fellow brothers.

"Shade, what is it?" Iron asked, wondering what was needed of him.

The clone gave a quick salute before explaining the reason behind him being here, "Apparently we're gonna be under the temporary leadership of general Plo Koon, sir. Also, the new general wanted to see you about something important in the command center on board the Titan. Like right now, sir."

'Well, would you look at that? A decent general for once? I'm impressed by the Jedi Order,' his helmet hid the fact that he was rolling his eyes at the sheer luck bestowed upon their unit for once.

Rolling his shoulders, feeling the familiar sensation of his shoulders loosening up, Iron appreciated what Shade had done by calling him, "Thanks for letting me know, I'll head up there right now."

The clone saluted, "Just doing my job, commander Iron."

With those final words, Iron walked past Shade and headed for the station. Though, there was a small part of curious as to what general Plo Koon needed to see him about, especially when factoring in how promptly the Jedi was made general of the 82nd Sky Corp.

'Isn't he the leader of the Wolfpack Battalion?' Iron now felt confused about the arrival of general Plo Koon, 'How the hell is he gonna lead not only his unit as well us. I'm pretty sure we're bigger than Wolffe's unit by a fucking considerable margin.'

Deciding to save his questions for later, the commander of the Screaming Banshees kept to himself as he made his way onto the massive Republic space station. If there was one thing he kept saying over and over…

He's got a bad feeling about this.

X-X-X

Republic Station, Titan

OUTER RIM, SECTOR 519

When Plo Koon was first contacted by the Jedi Council, he suspected that something must have been horribly wrong by their rather grim expressions, and it appeared to be justified after he was informed about the death of his former Padawan; Pax Marshall, general of the 82nd Sky Corp.

Most individuals didn't try to figure out what Plo Koon was feeling sometimes. His mask and goggles tended to frighten off most people, and it also made it difficult to figure out how the Kel Dorian was feeling right now. Finding out about the death of your former student and friend, was something most Jedi Masters always had a hard time accepting, even if their teachings forbid any form of emotional attachment.

Plo Koon was silent for a few minutes until he had asked if that's all the council needed from him. As usual, it appeared there was more to their transmission than the Jedi had initially thought, finding out that they were still receiving a signal from an unknown world which matched the path taken by the general's warship. Mace Windu revealed that it could be general Grievous's capital ship, which had managed to make a jump into hyperspace before any of their forces could stop them.

Once he was given the reigns of his former student's unit, Plo Koon was now tasked with investigating this strange signal on this world, hoping it to be the infamous droid commander. Not only was Grievous responsible for the deaths of dozens of Jedi and Padawans throughout the course of the war, but the man was also the key to bringing this war to a swift end.

If they were to bring such an individual to justice, this could be a warning to the Separatist Alliance as continuing to prolong such senseless violence, was not going to end well for either side of this war. Or, rather that was the hope of the Jedi Council.

"The men will have a few days to rest before packing up for this assignment, Master Plo Koon. I'm hoping you'll be able to work with commander Iron and the officers of the 82nd Sky Corp to complete this mission, I doubt they would disrespect the former master of their general."

For the past two or so years, Plo Koon had cultivated a good relationship with his men of the Wolfpack battalion. It took time to do such a thing, and much to their misfortune, time was not on their side with what was expected out of them for this mission. Master Windu and Master Yoda couldn't honestly expect him to get the troopers of his former student, to accept him so easily after losing their general just a few days ago.

"Sir?"

Deep down, Plo Koon was still bothered by the news of his former student's death in this most recent battle against the Separatist. He had known Pax since he was just a child, helped bring him to the Jedi Order when the child had nowhere else to go, and even trained him to become the Jedi Knight he aspired to be. Death seemed far too cruel, but the older Jedi knew the harsh reality of this galaxy after seeing the corruption, turmoil, and conflict tearing it apart.

"General Plo Koon?"

Finally, the Jedi had taken notice of commander Iron, who was standing behind him with his helmet off, revealing three, large jagged scars across going across the left side of his face. Turning away from the table, Plo Koon greeted the clone trooper, "I'm terribly sorry for calling you out like this, commander."

"There's no issue here, sir," Iron responded, acting with as much as respect as possible. There was no need to be rude to their new general, especially since Wolffe had told him that Plo Koon had more respect for clones than some Jedi in the Order.

Gesturing towards the table, Plo Koon began to explain the reasoning beyond why he had called Iron to the command center of the Titan. "Commander Iron, I'm sure you've been informed that the Jedi Council has elected to have me, lead the 82nd Sky Corp until they are given enough time to find a proper Jedi to lead your unit into battle."

"I'm aware of that, sir," replied commander Iron. "Shade also informed me that there was something important to be discussed as well."

"Yes," Plo Koon said, motioning towards commander Wolffe to bring up the holograms. Moments later, the table came to life with an image of a planet which seemed no different than worlds like Naboo or Alderaan. "Besides this new change in leadership, the Jedi Council has tasked us with a new mission."

Iron started to put it together, realizing where this meeting was going. Amidst the chaos of fighting against the droids, Iron recalled a few troopers on the radio talking about Grievous making his escape to one of the nearby Providence-Class carriers in orbit. From there, the clone commander suspected the droid commander was either located on this world or was last spotted in the system.

"Our scanners began picking up a strange signal, possibly a distress signal for those who crash-landed on this planet. It's far too weak for us to determine if its meant for the Separatist or us," explained Plo Koon, earning the attention of commander Iron. "This means we'll be going down to the planet's surface and finding the source of this signal. Hopefully, Grievous won't be too difficult to bring down for us."

"Are we going to be working alongside the 104th, general?" Iron wanted to confirm if the general's unit was still a part of this mission as well.

The general nodded, "Yes, the Wolfpack battalion and the 82nd Sky Corp are going to be working together on this assignment. The Jedi Council granted this assignment important enough for me to bring such a large force of troopers to bring down one target. That alone should tell anyone how desperate we're becoming to take down Grievous now."

"Do you want me to prepare the troops?" questioned Iron.

Plo Koon had to admit, the commander's professionalism was something to admire here, "No need to rush, the council did say we'd have a few days to prepare for this brand new assignment," he saw the look of confusion on the trooper's face, "Tomorrow is when we can discuss further details and start formulating some kind of plan, but the planet is unknown to our intelligence. All we currently know is a few bits and pieces of information."

When he finished explaining that part, Plo Koon had dismissed Wolffe and Iron, allowing them to get some rest as well as start preparing for the days to come as the Jedi knew this was a pretty decent gamble for the Republic. Although, no one could deny the reward of being able to capture Grievous and bring him to justice for all those he's killed since the outbreak of the war between the Confederacy of Independent Systems and the Galactic Republic.

The Jedi took one more glance at the hologram projection of the planet on the table, see the red blimp that continued to flash more and more. It certainly made Plo Koon wonder what caused Grievous to crash land on this world because after reading reports, crews from a nearby Venator claimed the ship didn't look to be damaged. There were some reasons to be concerned about the outcome of the mission, but Plo Koon wasn't about to fail in his duty of being a member of the Jedi Order and an extension of the Jedi Council itself.

"Something doesn't seem right here," Plo Koon muttered to himself, his eyes looking down at the planet, feeling something off about it.


Band of Brothers


Ken, Capital of the Seven Shields Alliance

CONTINENT OF EOSTIA - SAME TIME

Celestine's eyes snapped open, revealing the beautiful pair of gemstone green eyes, before letting out a scream filled with nothing short of fear and anguish.

When she finally managed to calm down, her eyes found themselves looking at the vaulted ceiling of her personal chambers while maintaining an iron grip on the blankets of her bed. Realizing she wasn't in that nightmare of a vision anymore, Celestine started taking deep breaths in an attempt to calm down, and placed a hand on her best, trying to stop the wild beating of her heart after experiencing the very equivalent of Hell. After taking a few moments to calm down, the beautiful High Elf slowly sat up, her eyes scanning the room with a hint of suspicion, praying nothing from her vision had followed her into this room.

A few agonizing moments passed before her grip on the blankets loosened, letting her sigh in relief.

She brought her knees close to her chest and wrapped her arms around them, thinking back on the vision she just witnessed moments ago. The Reincarnated Goddess was famous throughout all of Eostia for being able to see future events or visions of the past at key points in history. Instead, the vision she experienced was unlike anything she's ever seen before until this very night.

If she was being honest with herself, Celestine was certain no one had ever seen anything like it.

Waking up in a twisted wasteland covered in darkness, was certainly the last thing Celestine wanted to see. As she traveled for what felt like hours, the High Elf couldn't see anything other than darkness and fog for miles in every direction. When, out of nowhere, strange contraptions flew right over her, unleashing hundreds of soldiers wearing white and black armor and who charged against the enemy while bolts of green and blue flying all over the place. However, the worst thing had to be the sounds she heard during the battle...

Screams of men dying, explosions were heard for miles in every direction, and the sound of two-legged mechanical beasts supporting the strange soldiers in white and black. None of it made sense to Celestine, and it felt like she was witnessing a struggle in an entirely new land.

From what the young woman could tell, it looked as if this war was aged quite differently in these twisted lands.

Most of all, there was no honor in the way either side was fighting; killing a man from a distance, brutal hand-to-hand combat, and many more violent acts which would even make some of the most battle-hardened men question their actions. Even her knights would condemn these soldiers for their style of battle as they saw combat in a much different light than these men from her vision. It seemed more like a fight for survival over a war being waged for whatever reasons possible, and Celestine wanted nothing to do with them.

As she thought about the vision and what it could mean, Celestine remembered one thing very clearly.

During the middle of the battle, the young woman hid from the fight and watched from a distance until a new figure was seen amongst the soldiers. A young man who looked to be in his mid to late twenties, who was wielding a sword of green light. He cut through enemy soldiers as if they were paper and looked to be leading the attack as he gave the soldiers in strange armor their orders.

Her instincts told her to get away from whoever these people were and never let them get close. On the other hand, her heart was telling her something very different. It told her this man was capable of not only being able to protect those she deeply cares for but protect her as well.

Wanting to get some fresh air, Celestine threw off the covers of the bed and swung her legs to one side of the bed. Her feet touched the floor of the chamber and immediately felt the cold marble tiles of her room. Standing up, Celestine walked over to her dresser and picked up a shawl she left on the table after retiring to her room for the night.

Picking up the shawl, she took a brief look into the mirror and what reflected off was people's image of absolute beauty. Long blonde hair, pale skin, and vibrant green eyes that were only contrasted by the dark lines underneath, suggesting how little sleep she gets anymore. An ample chest supplemented her curvaceous figure with a modest nightgown that seems to only enhance her body to a stunning degree. Compared to her beauty, there was one thing that stood out the most and it was a pair of pointed ears hidden behind her luscious locks, indicating her status as a beautiful High Elf.

Besides being of the few living Elves in existence, Celestine has been the leader of the Seven Shields Alliance for nearly a few centuries now. She even created a legendary order of knights to fight back against their enemy; the Dark Queen.

These were knights she christened herself after they have shown their worth and abilities. Though her mind wanders back the vision, making Celestine realize there was very little her knights could do to stop the mysterious army she had witnessed fighting in that land of darkness. They possessed armor and weapons she's never seen before and soldiers using strange contraptions to assist them in battle against the enemy force.

Although, the biggest threat was the man wielding the sword of light. He looked like a capable warrior and commander from what she had gotten to see.

Once she slipped on the shawl, Celestine walked over to the large, glass doors leading to the balcony, she grabbed the handles and opened them. Within moments, the young woman felt the cold air on her skin, causing her to wrap her arms around her to keep warm in this weather. It was a telltale sign of winter approaching, and the war against the Dark Queen would begin to slow down to a crawl for the time being.

Celestine understood winter was the only thing keeping the Dark Queen and her forces from taking the various cities and towns outside the fortresses. Leaning against the rail, the Reincarnated Goddess looked down into the city of Ken, a place she's called home for the past few centuries and has been the capital of the Alliance for quite some time now. Biting her lip, Celestine recalled the suffering people have been through since the start of this war.

Not only have entire generations of family been lost to the sands of time, but people have lost sons, daughters, wives, and husbands to this war.

It made her realize that their current forces were barely capable of holding back raiding parties of monsters from the Legion. Numerous times in battle, her military forces have failed to hold their own due to the sheer weight of numbers being deployed against her forces in battle. As a result of these losses, the Alliance has turned to another source of combat troops in the form of using mercenaries.

With not only their wealth growing as a result of being paid by many mayors, leaders, and councils to protect them from the enemy and even their own fame has grown to unbelievable heights.

The famous being the group known as the Black Dogs.

Unlike most groups, they possessed large amounts of well-trained and experienced veterans who have seen combat for years now. They were the very force holding back the Legion and the Dark Elves from running wild in the south. Most of all, they were led by a man who has become the closest thing to a legend in the eyes of many. A man who goes by the name of Volt, a charismatic and battle-hardened leader who's been fighting for nearly two decades now.

Sure, there were those who raised their concerns with using mercenaries like the Black Dogs but couldn't provide them with a better option given the situation of the Alliance.

As Celestine's green eyes watched the sun beginning to rise above the massive fortress walls, she smiled sadly as this was going to be another day of running the Alliance, meeting with the noble families who are concerned with the progress of the war, and many more events concerned with governing. She doesn't regret becoming the leader, but the burden was becoming almost too much for her.

Though, the young woman refused to show weakness when others needed guidance in these difficult times.

Only one thought came to mind and that was asking this mysterious army for assistance in their war against the Dark Queen. Could she convince them to help them in these desperate times? It was a long shot, to say the least. Unfortunately, given the difficult position, they're in with the enemy closing in from all sides...

"My lady, are you alright?"

Her smile became brighter than before as the Reincarnated Goddess heard the familiar voice of her friend. Turning around, Celestine was confronted by the sight of a woman who looked to be in her late twenties and was dressed in beautifully crafted armor, standing at the threshold of the door to her balcony. Her name was Claudia Levantain, Celestine's most trusted friend ever since meeting her nearly ten years ago. A woman who's considered one of the strongest warriors on the continent of Eostia. She even received training from her father-in-law; Grave Levantain, a man who was known as the greatest warrior on Estoia going back a few decades.

"Yes," Celestine nodded, answering her friend's question. "I'm alright. Just...another vision, unfortunately."

Claudia's concern only grew after hearing those words, "What did you see? If I may ask, my lady."

The Goddess looked up towards the night sky, taking notice of the bright stars above them, "It was strange, Claudia. Throughout my life, I've witnessed many terrible things but nothing like the vision I had tonight. All I can do now is pray that whatever happened in vision...never comes true or I fear Eostia may lose what little is left after this war against the Dark Queen...regardless of who wins."

Upon hearing those words, Claudia remained silent as she didn't know what to say in such a situation. All Claudia knew was how to be a loyal soldier, it was something she aspired to be from a young age, and after the Reincarnated Goddess made Claudia her second-in-command, the woman has done everything in her power to make sure Celestine never doubted her loyalty or her abilities.

Beyond the call of duty, the two had become good friends in time.

So while Claudia would always be the Goddess's sword and shield, she was also her friend.

Walking up to her friend, Claudia then stood right next to her Goddess, "Celestine, I always believed in you and the goals you strive towards, and all of it is to help the people of Eostia. If yet another enemy comes to this land with the intention of harming the people of Eostia, then I will gladly stand beside you and defend it to my last breath."

Celestine gave Claudia a beautiful smile and hugged the warrior clad in armor, "Thank you. You do not know how much those words mean to me, Claudia."

The knight shook her head before returning the hug, "No, I require no such thanks from you, my lady."

In the time since becoming known as the Reincarnated Goddess, Celestine honestly never had friends. Numerous people, she worked with, have always kept their distance from her because of her title and placed her on a pedestal. On the other hand, she is happy to have known people like Claudia and some of the other princess knights.

Leaning against the wooden railing once more, Celestine looked towards the night sky with the stars shining brightly, "Claudia, may I ask you something?"

The knight nodded, "Of course, you may ask me anything, my lady."

"Do you believe people live amongst the stars?" the Goddess asked.

Claudia felt somewhat out of her element and didn't bother hiding such a thing, "I... do not know, if I'm honest. It isn't my place to answer such a question, my lady," she said, "But, my husband; Klaus, would probably know more about this subject than me. He's most likely studied this idea before in his spare time."

The Goddess heard the warmth and love in Claudia's voice when speaking about her husband. Love was such a beautiful thing to Celestine. It was the chance to be someone who loved them, regardless of the flaws one may have. In honesty, it made Celestine somewhat envious of others such as Claudia.

"Yes, I believe he would," Celestine responded.

Seeing the sun rising over the horizon, Celestine realized the long day she has in front of her, "It's alright, Claudia. You may leave now. Forgive me if I troubled you with my nonsense."

Claudia shook her head, "No, lady Celestine, you could never cause me trouble."

"Just go on, Claudia, I'll be fine."

Heeding the words of her Goddess, the knight bowed before leaving the High Elf to her thoughts. The sun's light shined over the city of Ken, the capital of the entire alliance. Celestine wanted nothing more for this war between her and Olga to end in peace and return to being the best of friends they were a few centuries ago, but continuing to fight one another is only going to cause more people to die in a pointless war. One which has been raging for a few centuries now.

Looking towards the stars, Celestine wondered if there were people who lived amongst them.

She wondered if they lived peaceful lives, but the thought was crushed after remembering the vision from earlier. Even with that vision, some people probably lived in peace since they were capable of avoiding their troubles. Sometimes, the Goddess wondered what would happen if those visions of the young man showed her proof that there were people on other worlds.

Even Celestine wanted a knight in shining armor to save her from this terrible conflict. However, she put those thoughts away for the time being.

There was still a war to fight. One she intends to end.

Now.


Band of Brothers


Wakefield, Territory of the Seven Shields Alliance

CONTINENT OF EOSTIA - A FEW HOURS LATER

Grace remembered a time when the city of Wakefield was more nothing more than a field of crops, animals roaming grassy fields, and the small communities of families living in the area when she first arrived from the Kingdom of Garan. Soon, those once mesmerizing scenes of children playing in the fields and farmers taking care of their plots of land were immediately replaced with the sight of towering stone walls lined with archers and wooden spiked barriers on the ground, a stark reminder of the war raging in these lands.

'I wonder how long until their luck rolls out?' Grace briefly wondered before adjusting her handle on the bridle, making sure her horse didn't stray too far from the road leading to the vast city in the distance. Even if she hardly visited Wakefield, just seeing the walls, homes, and the keep was enough to always leave the woman in awe of such a sight.

As for the reasoning behind her visit, Grace headed into Wakefield with the intention of seeing an old friend of hers who runs a shop in the middle of town. There were a few things Grace was in need of right now, and she definitely wanted to return before dark as the chance of being attacked by either wild animals or the Legion go up significantly. She always heard about stories of young women being taken prisoner by the monsters in the Legion and used as nothing more than sex slaves, a fate worse than death in the eyes of any woman.

So why was she risking everything with traveling to Wakefield?

'I'm quite certain Anna isn't pleased with the idea of having to take care of him while I'm gone,' Grace had been living with her friend by the name of Anna Florence, a High Elf, and her husband by the name of Ian. 'Probably doesn't help she's having to put up with…' she took a moment to pause to think of the right term for the creature they found that night, '...the metal being with lights.'

Before Grace had a chance to continue reflecting on the situation at home, her nose had been assaulted by the horrible smell of what must have been bodies being burned earlier today. Taking a look around, the young woman was met by the sight of dead soldiers strewn across the field, arrows lodged in the dirt, and horses completely gutted, it was more than enough to nearly making her throw-up in disgust of seeing such a sight.

The worse part had to be the occasional groans of pain, most likely coming from the soldiers who must have been left in the field because they were doomed to die before getting help. During her life, Grace had seen a lot of terrible things, but nothing could come close to what this war with the Dark Queen has brought to these lands.

No one deserved to be put through this nightmare conceived by that bloody woman. Grinding her teeth in annoyance mixed with anger at having to remember the smug expression of the Dark Queen known as Olga Discordia, queen of the Dark Elves. Although, Grace thought of a few different names which worked far better for a woman as unpleasant as Olga.

'More like a whore who deserves to be fucked for eternity by the very monsters she uses…'she snarled at the image of that woman, sitting on her throne while holding a staff, acting as if she was better than everyone...

In her lifetime, Grace was a sweet and caring woman who couldn't muster the courage or anger to think, let alone say, these kinds of thoughts. Whenever thoughts about Olga came to mind, the first thing that came to mind, were insults, death threats, and praying that bitch got what she deserved for everything she's done.

Realizing how far her mind was going, Grace tried to take a deep breath and remember the reason for why she was coming this far. Time was of the essence right now, and the person was going to need some form of actual medicine rather than some blend of herbs from the forest surrounding her friend's home. So, Grace took her horse and rode for Wakefield just as the sun had risen over the horizon, hoping her old friend hadn't moved from the city just yet.

As she approached the large, metal gates, Grace had adjusted the hood covering her head, making sure no one could really catch a glimpse of anything. In a city like this, a woman traveling by herself made for easy prey for some of the more desperate criminals who hung around Wakefield like vultures feeding on the corpses of those who fell on the battlefield.

Just as her horse passed through the gate creaking open, Grace saw the familiar sight of a bustling city filled to the brim with people going about their business, either looking for something to purchase or were in the middle of trying to sell something to someone. Either way, Grace had a bit of ways to travel before reaching the location of her friend's shop, who certainly sold medicine capable of helping the man her and Anna had found a few nights ago.

Unfortunately, it didn't take Grace long to realize her horse was going to have a difficult time trying to maneuver through the crowds of people already starting to form. Usually, Grace hated the idea of leaving her horse in a place crawling from top to bottom with scum willing to do anything to make some easy coin for themselves. Quietly, she tried talking herself into traveling with the horse through the people until the sight of soldiers had caught her attention.

All of them were dressed in heavy armor, armed with spears and shields, and appeared to be patrolling the area from what it appeared to Grace. Sieges brought prolong periods of time where supplies had to be rationed as they needed to have enough to not only feed the troops but the people as well. She had experienced a few sieges in her lifetime to know that an angry mob of people were far more dangerous than any group of soldiers in such confined spaces like these.

Seeing those soldiers was enough to make Grace get off her horse and walked it over to a nearby wooden post, tying the leash to it, and asking if the farmer could watch her animal till she returned, which wasn't going to take longer than an hour.

Closing her eyes for a brief moment, 'By the Seven Gods, he better be there or I'm going to feel responsible for a man's death,' Grace wasn't much a religious person, but given the situation, she's probably going to need all the she can get from here on out.

Letting out a deep breath, Grace started the long and annoying trek through the bustling market filled with exotic fruits being sold, the sweet aroma of baked goods filled the air, and a few jewelers were selling some rubies, sapphires, and other precious gemstones. There seem to be life in this city, a strange sight in the eyes of someone like Grace, who was expecting people to feel terrified of what's been going on outside the walls.

For the next few minutes, Grace kept an eye on her surroundings as she started heading deeper into Wakefield and began to notice the stalls were becoming slowly replaced with more high-end shops filled with supplies, equipment, and other items. Another thing was the crowd was slowly thinning out, going from people who most likely wore the same rags for days on end to individuals who seem to have more gold coins than they know what to do with them. Thankfully, none of them had taken notice of Grace walking through an upper part of town, where most of the wealthy and elite tended to spend the vast majority of their coins.

If she wasn't in such a rush, Grace would have probably commented on her attire looking like rubbish when compared to the well-made dresses worn by the women or how some of them possessed nothing short a perfect smile on their face.

Putting those thoughts to the side, there was something far more important to complete here, 'Focus, Grace, you can worry about your appearance when you find Sam's stupid shop!'

Sam Tarly was possibly the few people she could ever claim was a true friend of hers, which was quite an accomplishment for anyone who knew Grace well enough. Her previous experiences with people had left Grace in a state where earning her trust was nearly impossible for anybody, but Sam was an honest man trying to make a living in this world and provide the best life for his wife; Gilly, and their two children.

'...How long has it been since I last him and his family? Two? Maybe three years ago?'

Time flew for someone like Grace, something very few people could ever hope to understand in their lifetime. Only Anna and her husband knew the feeling Grace had experienced time and time again, including right now.

"Well, what do we have here?" a voice rang out from a nearby alleyway.

Hearing the voice, Grace turned in the direction of the voice and saw a man who appeared to have been drinking quite heavily if his appearance was anything to go by.

Flushed cheeks, a dazed look in his eyes, and clothes that look like they've seen better days. It all pointed towards an individual who probably spent more than a few hours in the pub, wanting to drink themselves to an early death.

Rolling her eyes, the young woman turned around and started walking away from the intoxicated male until she felt something grab her wrist with an iron grip of some kind. When her eyes landed on the dazed look of the male, she scowled at him and tried to pull her hand away from him, only for him to start getting agitated from her actions. He suddenly pulled Grace into the alleyway and threw her against the wall of brick behind her.

A small part of Grace wanted to end this situation as quickly as possible, knowing how easy it would've been to use the dagger inside its sheath attached to her left thigh. Or, that's what she planned on doing if the man hadn't grabbed both her hands and held them above with one hand, making it very difficult for the young woman to do anything. What made her circumstance even worse was when the man leaned in closer, allowing her to smell his breath.

Not only was she subjected to smelling the breath laced in liquor, but Grace immediately froze when she noticed the man starting to slide his hand underneath her blouse, hidden away by the black cloak she was wearing today.

Feeling utterly disgusted by this scum, Grace took this opportunity to swiftly kick the man between the legs, causing him to let go of her and holding his family jewels from the vicious strike. The man raised his head to look back at the woman but was quickly met with a fist to his face, leading him to fall onto the ground. Even with the sun about to fall to the horizon, small droplets of blood could be seen dripping onto the ground covered in cobblestone, which was noticed by Grace as she was walking away from the alley.

Anger flooded the man's mind as he had been made a fool by a whore who had the dignity of breaking his nose just because he was getting a bit touchy with her. Forgetting about his nose, the man stood back up and intended on showing this woman what exactly happens when someone tries to defy him and have the audacity to wound him.

"Guards! A woman is being attacked!"

His rage was replaced instantly with an expression of overwhelming fear, making the man look at Grace one last time before turning the other direction and running deeper in the alleyway. As this was happening, the young woman's shoulders slumped in relief that the incident was finally over as she leaned against the brick wall for a few moments.

Wondering who had been the one to call for the guards, Grace walked back to main cobblestone road, now bathed in the orange glow of the fading sun, and searched for anyone who might have been the person to do so. At first, there appeared to be no one as the few individuals walking around were either guards or the occasional horse-drawn wagon.

'Who the bloody called for the guards?' she was left in utter confusion about the situation, curious as to know the person responsible for scaring off the man.

"Dad, I found her!"

Keeping a tighter grip on the cloak, Grace hoped to avoid any serious attention when coming to this city, but it seemed like whoever called for the guards must have been not alone if the voice of the child was anything to go by.

"Come on, I don't think you should be scaring her, Jon," the voice of an older man said, lightly scolding the child for their outburst at such an hour. Some might think Grace was out of danger and would be able to continue her small journey to find her friend Sam.

Yet, the name of the child was what caught her attention the most…

Turning around, her dark brown eyes widened in surprise when she caught sight of a child and their father, a man who looked to be in his forties with neatly kept brown hair, light brown eyes, and looked to be a bit on the heavy side. Most people wouldn't expect much out of a man and assume him to be someone spending the better part of their time gorging on food.

'People couldn't be any farther from the truth about Sam,' the young woman thought of Sam like a brother she never had growing up, a person capable of using reason and logic to make sense out of even the most dangerous circumstances. There were far too many incidents when Sam managed to get her out of even the stickiest situations, a reason why she's forever grateful to the man and his honesty in a world filled criminals, wars, and corruption in every corner of the world.

Using the hood of her cloak, Grace found herself unable to resist smiling at the scene of father and son, it was an interesting sight for her, considering how she's known the father since he was just a young lad of twenty-something years old.

Some might ask how she was capable of looking as young as a woman no older than twenty-five years old and had witnessed sieges from nearly a few centuries ago. To sum it up, Grace Campbell is a Dark Elf from the north.

As the Dark Elf approached the father and son, she hoped Sam was able to provide the necessary medicine to help heal the man currently resting in Anna's home. Though, she prepared herself for the worst if her friend said he couldn't help her.

"Sam Tarly," she called out his name, catching the attention of the man. "You've managed to save me yet again from a terrible fate. I don't think I'll be able to repay you for everything you've done for me."

"Not a problem, Grace," the man replied, a smile on his face as he turned to face his friend of around twenty years. "I'd be a bit happier if you had used the dagger given to you. Still happy to see you have it."

For a brief moment, the Dark Elf glanced down to the hidden dagger, remembering the story behind the weapon and the day she came to realize not all humans are lust-filled, warmongering, selfish beings who deserved to be extinct.

"Aye," she nodded, "It's good to see you too, old friend. I see your son has gotten so much bigger since the last time I visited you a few years ago."

Sam ruffled the hair of Jon, "Yes, he has definitely grown up a bit. Though I doubt he knows you very well, Grace."

The father then felt his son tugging on his trousers, making him look down to see the confused look on his son's face. "What is it?" Sam asked, wanting to know what was bothering his son.

"W-Who is she?"

His simple question earned him a chuckle from both adults. Sam took a second to best answer the question, "Jon, I don't think you remember, but this is your god-mother; Grace. The two of you met when you were just a just about two. Not even your sister; Sara, was born."

The boy turned away from his father and looked at the woman, "So you're my aunty?"

Grace stifled a chuckle at the child's innocent question and kneeled down in front of the boy, "Yes, I'm you're aunty, dear."

Seeing the adorable expression on the face of his son, was more than enough to make Grace remember a time when she wanted children of her own. Unforeseen circumstances had made such a dream quite difficult for her, something she blamed Olga Discordia for without any hesitation.

"By the way," Sam said, catching his friend's attention. "I'm more than ecstatic to see you after you've been gone for the last few years…a part of me wants to know why have you returned?"

"Can we talk somewhere less out in the open?"

He nodded, "Yes, we can talk in my home. Gilly certainly enjoys it when you come over, so I don't think she'll have much an issue with you coming over either."

"Thank you," Grace had always wondered what would've happened to her if she never met Sam all those years ago. The Dark Elf knew thinking about such an unknown fate wouldn't do her any good in the long run.

X-X-X

Black Fortress, Kingdom of Garan

TERRITORY OF THE DARK QUEEN - SAME TIME

"Have the Orcs returned from the fallen star?"

"I'm afraid, there's been an issue, my queen."

Inside the dreaded fortress of the Dark Queen known as Olga Discordia to a select few individuals on the continent of Eostia. One of those individuals is her most trusted lieutenants by the name of Chloe Morningstar, a much younger Elf who sided with Olga from the very beginning of this war against Celestine Lucullus and her alliance.

Currently, the young Elf was kneeling before her queen, feeling a sense fear for her life as she knew her master hated hearing the news of her plans being pushed back or delayed for any reason whatsoever. In the years serving Olga, the younger Elf had witnessed Orc chieftains turned into ash for their failure in battle, a common sight these last few years.

Chloe stared at the steps to her master's throne, refusing to look at the queen of the Dark Elves in the eye. Fearful of what might happen should she decide to raise her head and look Olga in the eye.

"What happened?"

Her question might seem innocent, but Chloe knew better as she heard the well-hidden irritation and annoyance in her master's tone. The real question being asked was this; 'Give me a good reason as to why I shouldn't turn you into ash or feed you to the Orcs.'

"Your grace, the force of nearly a thousand creatures sent north to see what had crashed in your territory, have not returned," Chloe wanted to make sure she didn't screw up, "...It appears as if they were utterly annihilated in a battle against some foreign enemy."

"Is that so?" Olga asked, a hint of curiosity could he heard in her voice.

"Yes, your grace," replied Chloe.

Olga Discordia knew how many lives have been destroyed as a result of this war. She had been waging a war against people who wanted nothing to do with this conflict but were unfortunate casualties in a conflict they couldn't understand. Twirling the staff in her arms, the queen of the Dark Elves thought about the information presented to her by Chloe.

Finding out nearly a thousand of the horrifying monsters in her army were suddenly wiped off the face of the continent, tended to raise an eyebrow even from her. While she was tempted to merely ignore this report and continue with her plans of starving out the Alliance through sieges during the winter, Olga felt like this wasn't something to be ignored.

The Dark Queen stood up from her throne, intent on finding more about this possible threat inside her own borders. She walked down the steps, the sound of her heels clacking against the stone was the only noise being made in her throne room.

"Chloe, please raise your head."

Listening to the command of her queen, the young Elf did so without any hesitation, knowing that disobeying an order could lead to her death. Among the many rumors spreading about Olga throughout the continent, her beauty was something spoken about by men and women in just about every tavern or pub. She possessed warm espresso skin, long dark hair, and a voluptuous body hidden by an elegant corset and underwear underneath a silken cloak.

However, hidden by her beauty was the woman's utter hatred for the species known as humans, a race she saw as vile creatures that didn't deserve a chance at life after the war against Reman Cyrodiil and his forces.

'I wish I would've killed him by my own hands,' Olga thought as she ordered Chloe to follow her. 'His skull would be a perfect addition to my personal chambers.'

As she approached the massive doors separating her throne room from the rest of the fortress, a pair of Orcs dressed in heavy armor had opened the doors to allow her and Chloe to leave. The Dark Queen knew that if someone was foolish enough to lead their forces to take her fortress, they better expect to take casualties. While the monsters raiding and attacking the Alliance, used very little to no armor and hardly had weapons with them, she made sure to keep the deadliest of creatures as the final line of defense for the fortress.

When it came to the Dark Elves serving in her army, Olga used them quite sparingly as she saw no need to throw away such veteran units, preferring to use the hundreds of thousands of creatures who were placed under her control. In comparison, she commanded an army of about only fifty to sixty thousand Dark Elves. This means they were either used for special assignments like killing important figures or sent to take down critical cities held in the grip of the Alliance.

She stopped for a moment and turned to face Chloe, "How did you come to the conclusion of our forces being wiped out by an enemy?" she asked, wanting an answer from her subject.

"Follow me, your grace," Chloe said, completely ignoring the question.

Olga usually punished her subjects for doing what Chloe had done, but there was a strange look in her eye. Appearing as if the answer was far worse than anything Olga could possibly ever do to her.

Without another word, the two Dark Elves walked through numerous corridors until they were near the entrance to the Black Fortress, where Olga saw numerous Orcs gathered near the entrance with their weapons held firmly in their hands. To her surprise, she even saw a few of them having trouble holding their weapons from how nervous they appeared to be.

Orcs are the beings of a nightmare for people across the continent of Eostia. Green skin, nearly black eyes, and more than enough of them to take cities. Not only are they larger than most humans, possessing strength which was capable of tearing any man to pieces, and were especially infamous for their insatiable lust for human women.

It must have been difficult when Olga demanded them to move out the way. The Orcs seem to do so with reluctance but did as they were commanded by the beautiful Dark Elf.

When Olga was given the chance to see what had happened, she always knew Orcs rarely feared anything aside from the abominations that control the northernmost parts of Eostia, but seeing the sight of numerous Orcs charged with protecting her fortress, currently lying dead was certainly something to witness.

So when Olga looked at the beings responsible for making such a mess, her memory seems to fail the woman. No matter how far back she looked, no being remotely matched the look of these ones.

They were about six feet tall, wearing white cloaks to cover themselves, and a single, glowing red eye was their only real facial feature. In total, there were six of them. Most noticeable was the staff each of them was carrying in their hands.

'Cyclopes? No, such creatures died out years ago from what I was told…' the Dark Elf was curious to know where these...things had come from.

She decided to get answers from them, "Who are you? And why have you killed my guards?"

At first, none of them acknowledged her existence, let alone her question. Olga grew annoyed with their silence and was tempted to kill them for such behavior. However, they seem to finally move, but all six of them had turned towards each other moved out of the way.

Almost like they were allowing passage for someone to come through here…

"Greetings, I see those creatures must have belonged to you," the voice was cold and metallic, but it was enough to even send a shiver down Olga's spine. She would've responded to the man's words if...this thing was even a man, to begin with.

Walking towards Olga and the rest of her guards was a being as tall as, if not taller, than the cloaked creatures under its command. Like them, it also had a white cloak. As for the face, it looked more like a mask than anything else as the Dark Elf could see a pair of reptilian-like eyes.

Mustering what courage she could, Olga wanted to know what it wanted from her, "Who are you? And why are you here?"

The being let out a menacing chuckle, "I'm currently searching for a prisoner who escaped from my ship. As for who I am...you may simply call me Grievous."

X-X-X

Sam's Home, Wakefield

TERRITORY OF THE SEVEN SHIELDS ALLIANCE - AN HOUR LATER

"So what do you need from me, Grace?"

After arriving at the home of Sam and his family, Grace was quickly greeted by the sight of his wife; Gilly, who happy to see her old friend after so many years. The Dark Elf was soon asked a number of questions about what she's done since the last time they saw her in Wakefield, many of them forcing Grace to avoid entirely as some of them were a bit personal.

"Gilly, I think Grace may want to keep some things to herself," Sam scolded gently, knowing how his wife had been the curious type, asking questions whenever the chance presented itself to her.

The woman apologized, "Sorry, Grace, didn't mean to scare you like that."

Grace shook her head as took off the hood, revealing the familiar features of an elf. After being forced to wear the damn thing since this morning, she was relieved to finally let her hair down and get a chance to talk without feeling scared of what was going to happen.

"You don't have to apologize, Gilly," Grace said, taking a sip from the cup of tea. When she put it down, she sighed in exasperation, "I feel like I'm the one who's intruding on all of you right now."

Sam knew Grace had always felt like a burden to people. He had tried to make her realize that friends help each other, no matter what's going on. "There's no need to think like that," he admonished Grace, "You're our guest and I'll do anything I can to help my friends."

A smile appeared on the Elf's face, "Thank you, Sam. I didn't know who to ask for help."

"Help? What is it, Grace?" Gilly asked, reaching over and grabbing Grace's hand. "If Sam can do anything to help, you know he'll try everything he can."

"I know he will," the Dark Elf said, "...With everything that's going on, I don't know if asking him is the right thing to do."

Sam grew more and more concerned about Grace, "What's happened? Is someone after you?"

"No, that's not it," Grace admitted, wanting to get this off her chest before it was too late, "I've been staying with a friend of mine by the name of Anna and her husband in a village to the south of Wakefield. Most nights, I'm working at a local tavern, serving alcohol and food for any travelers who come north. It's been like that for the last ten years or so. Suddenly, I was walking home one night when I saw something flying through the night sky and land in the forest nearby. I still don't know what compelled me to go into the forest on that night, maybe it was curiosity or fearing it was some monster from the Legion."

Sam spoke up, "What did you find?" he sounded terrified to even ask such a question.

"To this day, I still don't know what it was," the Dark Elf replied, unsure of what to make of the metal object which landed in the forest. "What I do know is that I found someone inside of it."

The final part caught the married couple off-guard. Sam immediately stood up, "There was a person inside of it?!"

"Yes," Grace quietly responded, "He looked to be injured from some kind of battle if the wounds were anything to go off and appeared to be unconscious from the fall. Besides finding him, there was something else I found that night..."

"What was it?" Sam inquired, interested in the story of his friend.

"Honestly," Grace looked at Sam with an unsure expression. "I have never seen such a creature in my life. It was short, round, and traveled using some wheels on its feet. Hell, the only noise it seems to make was this...beeping noise."

"Beeping noise? Are you sure?"

She nodded at Sam's question, "I'm quite positive. So when I tried scaring it off, it didn't seem to go away and it didn't take me long to realize that the unconscious man was its master of sort. But, Sam, I don't have the expertise or medicine to heal him. I've done what I can for him."

Sam didn't respond for a few moments. He looked over to Gilly, there was a certain look in his eye and one that Gilly knew as she took both their children upstairs to get ready for bed.

When the two of them were alone, Sam put his face in between his hands, "By the gods, I'd wish you came earlier than this."

"Uh?" Grace was confused by her friend's words.

Lifting his head up, Sam put his hands together and explained his situation, "Grace, I've been thinking about moving my family and my business down to Ken. Things have been getting far too dangerous for my family to continue staying here."

There was an uncomfortable silence between the two long-time friends. Grace looked away, finding a painting on the wall of Sam's home to be more interesting than this conversation they were currently having. She always knew this day was coming, the day when Sam realized that staying this far north would be dangerous for him and his family.

She understood the importance for him to put the lives of his two children and wife ahead of anyone else. Yet, she couldn't shake the thought that he was abandoning her…

"Since when?" Grace muttered.

Sam sighed, "Gilly and I have been talking about this move since this past summer. That's why I've started informing my suppliers and customers about my move to Ken. Most of them were happy to hear I finally decided on leaving this city."

He knew how difficult it was going to be for Grace to hear this, "I can provide you with the medicine and some instructions on what to do, Grace. But, that's all I can do to help. We're planning on leaving within the next few days. If you want, you can leave along with us and get a ride to make the journey easier on you. I wish I could help Grace, believe me, I do."

The Dark Elf tried holding back the tears, finding almost difficult to believe another friend was leaving her behind. "First, it was Jon…now you're leaving me behind, Sam."

"It's not like that, Grace," Sam said, wanting to reassure his friend that nothing would change.

Unfortunately, it seemed like his words failed to reach Grace as the woman stood up from the chair she was sitting on and walked upstairs. At the bare minimum, she didn't have to worry about her horse as both of them went back to get it before eventually arriving at his home.

Sam threw his head back, wondering what he was supposed to do now, "Jon, I wish you were still here. You'd probably find a way to fix this...somehow."

Deciding to leave this issue for the morning, Sam had walked over to the fireplace, getting ready to put it out when he caught sight of a familiar item from his younger days.

Sitting above the fireplace was a sword made from a rare metal only found in the Sleepy Mountains to the east. His eyes landed on the most interesting part of the sword. On the bottom of the handle, there was an intricately carved design of a wolf's head on it.

"Even in death, you still manage to find a way to help me, Jon," Sam knew what his friend would've told him to do in this situation. Tonight was gonna be a long night...


Okay, I know some of you are probably wondering why the hell I used characters from that show. My reasoning is that I saw an opportunity and was like, "Shit, I might as well see how they do here!"

In other news, I'm certainly much happier with this single chapter than I was with the entirety of my original version of this story titled as Non Desistas Non Exieris. That's made even worse when I see some of the other stories in this category. So, please enjoy this new version where I have some interesting plans.

Also, a big shout out to TwinkieMain, who helped me bounce around some ideas for this story.

I hope to see you guys next time, where the people of Eostia are gonna see what a REAL war looks like...oh, and a bunch of boring/intriguing stuff like politics.