I've happy to report that I've successfully hit my release target. I knew from the beginning that this was never going to be released on the same timeline as the original- the chapters are much longer, I'm much busier, and I don't write all that much faster. I was hoping to have the final chapter out by the eleventh anniversary, and here it is.

There's still an epilogue and some notes to go. It'll be very different from the original epilogue, but hopefully will be a reasonable sendoff to a fic that frankly kind of rode off the rails.

Chapter 10: Warriors and Withdrawl

"I think he's gonna die," the dark-furred mouse said, finishing her examination of the fallen warrior and wiping her bloodied paws on her tunic. "He's pretty badly beat up."

"Isn't there anything you can do?" Gonff implored. He glanced at his friend slowly bleeding out, then quickly looked away.

"Um, no?" the mouse said awkwardly. "My doctorate is in art history."

"Are you kidding?" he shouted. Turning to the crowd, he shouted. "Is there anyone who is the right kind of doctor?"

"I am!" Abbess Germaine responded, raising her arm and ambling over.

"Please, do something, anything, just don't let him die," Gonff begged, leading her to the warrior.

She raised an eyebrow. "Last time we talked, you two hated each other."

He waved a paw. "Yeah, but we're fire-forged friends or whatever now."

"Wow, he's pretty fucked up." The Abbess poked the warrior with her boot, then wiped the blood on the grass. "Yup. Medical opinion: pretty fucked up."

"That's your medical opinion?" the mousethief yelled, infuriated with her nonchalant attitude.

"Well, excuse me," the Abbess snapped, rolling her eyes. "I spent most of medical school strung out on shrooms and Adderall."

He asked softly, almost begging, "Can you help him?"

"I can give him a dose of LSD," she answered, holding up a wrinkled plastic bag.

"How will that help?" Gonff screeched.

"Well, I mean, he's still gonna die, but trust me, going out high is a better way to go."

"Damn it."

"Look, kid, what do you want me to say? We torched the only hospital for a hundred miles." She threw her arms into the air, exasperated. "Do you really want me to try to perform invasive thoracic surgery on a critical trauma victim with nothing but a dull box cutter, a rusty set of vice grips, and the gloves I wore washing dishes this morning?"

"Um, yes?"

"Ugh, my head," Martin groaned, stumbling to his feet. "Oh… where am I?"

It certainly wasn't Mossflower. It was a forest, in the middle of the night with the moon full and stars shining bright above. The trees were old and gnarled, with thick vegetation that towered above him. The outside of the forest was surrounded by fog, and the path behind him seemed to disappear to nothingness. Ahead was a massive wooden gate, already wide open and revealing a winding path through the trees ahead.

"Welcome to the Dark Forest, Martin," an oddly familiar female voice greeted. A figure in a white cloak glided into view in front of him. "This is where warriors gather."

"Really? Awesome!" the mouse exclaimed, taking her words at absolute face value. Then he realized something. "Wait, why haven't I heard about it before?"

"It's, um, not on normal maps," she answered, motioning for him to follow into the forest.

"Then how did you find it?" Martin questioned, furrowing his eyebrows as he enthusiastically trudged inside.

The answer came almost as a question, "The… dark web?"

"Oh, that makes sense," he replied, accepting the explanation. "I never checked that out. Couldn't figure out how to download the browser from the Tor website."

The figure laughed quietly. "Oh, Martin, you haven't changed a bit."

"I'm sorry, have we met?" he inquired. "I really feel like I've seen- well, heard- you before."

"Yes, Martin, we've met." The figure turned and threw her hood down, revealing a face he hadn't seen in a long time, wearing a sad smile. "Done a whole lot more than met."

"Rose?" Martin stammered, completely shocked. He loudly interrogated, "Where have you been? I thought you died!"

"It's, um, a long and complicated story." She shifted and ground her feet in the dirt. "Some day I'll tell you the whole thing, I promise."

Finally, the warrior mouse sighed and asked. "Am I dead, Rose?"

"Well, see, that's kind of a complicated question…" she began to answer, before suddenly turning and pointing. "Hey, look, isn't that a neat rock?"

"Yeah, actually, that is a really cool rock," Martin agreed, running over to examine it. It was mostly smooth, with a rougher bottom, and its surface appeared almost iridescent in the moonlight. "Do you want to have sex on it?"

Rose shrugged. "Eh, sure."

A new dawn was beginning to break when the Long Patrol finally arrived in Mossflower. The army was tired after having marched for days, but wound up and ready for a fight. When they discovered Kotir ruined with its army shattered, they were initially quite confused.

Naturally, they sought out their leader for new orders. Of course, he was in no condition to give them, and when they discovered the mouse covered in blood and not moving with the corpse of Tsarmina still beside him, they were quick to draw their own conclusions.

"Looks like they killed each other. You know what this means."

"We don't answer to anyone now!"

"Right, then, back to the old mountain, shall we?"

"Jolly good idea, wot wot!"

"Nah, I think I'll just stay here."

"Very good, no one to order otherwise."

"See you around, old chap."

"Will do, mate. Safe travels, try not to get too drunk."

"No guarantees, bruv. What about you, over there?"

"Heading south, going to start an ice cream stand."

"Best of luck to you."

"Well, we'll be off now. Cheery-o."

Abbess Germaine couldn't help but shake her head as she observed the hare army chatter amongst themselves, then leave as soon as they arrived. She turned to her old badger friend. "That was the army you were talking about?"

"Uh…" Bella stammered, scratching the back of her large head. "I mean, I don't see them hurting us. The hares and badger are kind of a package deal. Honestly, I was just hoping my dad would come back and say he was proud of me."

"Anyone ever tell you that you have issues, Bella?" the Abbess asked casually, rooting around in her tunic. "You wanna light up and forget about them?"

The badger nodded. "Yeah, sounds like a good plan."

"So, uh, I dunno if you can hear me, matey," Gonff said from Martin's bedside. "But, uh, we won. Those rabbits showed up. I guess, I guess they thought you were dead, because they left right away."

He smiled sadly. "We won, matey. And a lot of us don't want to admit it, but we couldn't have done it without you. You kicked ass. And that's the truth.

"So, what's happened in the meantime? Well, not much. It's only been a day. A lot of rounding up prisoners, a few fights with some that wouldn't give up. We're not sure what to do with them yet, but I'm sure it will be fair and just." The mousethief paused. "It's going to be an all new Mossflower with Tsarmina gone. All goodbeasts, nobody to steal from."

He broke into laughter. "Who am I kidding? I'm still going to pinch everything that isn't nailed down. I'd feel bad about it, but I'll still do it. Maybe I can head to another land, sail the seas. Always wanted to be a real honest-to-goodness pirate.

"So, uh, Columbine's talking to me again. Thing is, I dunno anymore. Something happened, I don't know, I don't want to think about it, but she's changed. She's not the happy-go-lucky girl I met back then. She's all dark and broody now." Gonff shook his head. "But I guess I'm not the same anymore, either. This war's been hell on all of us. You know, maybe I'll just roll with it, see what happens? That's always worked out before.

"You just hang in there, matey. I know it's not the best surgery- I mean, most places, there'd be a malpractice suit- but we're all rooting for you." He closed his eyes, sighed, and stood to leave. "I know you're going to pull through. You've just got to believe it yourself."

"Sir, what do you think they're going to do to us?" Steelflower asked. Idly, she wriggled her paws against her bonds. Like most of Kotir's defeated army, she hid real fear beneath a layer of stoicism. The ground vibrated slightly beneath her, and she could hear chanting in the distance. The woodlanders celebrating their victory, perhaps.

"It won't be that bad," a bloodied rat with the insignia of a Lieutenant answered from a few spaces down the line. "If it's death, it'll be quick. More likely they'll lock us up for a while, then banish us."

"Hey!" an otter shouted at them. "We're lettin' the civilians decide what to do with you vermin. It's up to all those poor women 'n children you terrorized."

The stoat beside her muttered, "Oh, good, they're goodbeasts, they'll probably just make us do community service or something."

"Do you think so, sir?" Steelflower called to the Lieutenant.

"I think-"

"Stow the gab!" the otter snapped, whacking him with the butt end of her spear.

The chanting slowly grew louder, the ground shaking faster. It didn't seem like a celebration, it seemed downright ominous. When she could finally make out the words, it sent a stab of fear down her spine. "Rip them apart! Rip them apart!"

The ferret struggled in her bonds, trying to get a better view from her half-kneeling position. She twisted her hips and ended up falling over sideways.

A mob as wide as she could see came storming over the hill. It wasn't an army, but rather a motley collection of the men and women, young and old, of all shapes and colours, armed with whatever they could find and all with pure anger etched on their faces.

They wanted blood.

Seconds later, they were upon their prey. Steelflower screamed as she was literally torn limb from limb, her cries of agony mixing with hundreds of others to echo for miles around.

"Hey, how you doin'?" Dinny asked, stepping awkwardly toward Martin, lying unmoving in his bed. "I guess not too well, eh?"

"I mean, shit. I know we didn't see eye-to-eye, and I still ain't gonna call you my friend," the mole said, dropping down into the chair by the mouse's bed. "But man, that was a ballsy fucking move you pulled. You keep sayin' you're some heroic warrior or some fuckin' thing, and usually you're full of shit, but that? That was honest-to-God hero shit.

"So, uh, we took care of the prisoners. I thought we should just ship them as relief food to developing countries, but, well, nobody agreed with me. I bet you wouldn't have, either." He paused again. "So we let the civilians decide. Poetic justice, y'know? Let the victim decide. They, um, well, they tore apart the vermin. Literally.

"We've still got a few left, though," Dinny quickly added. "Some commanders, kings, bigwigs that called the shots. There's a special execution planned, a big show. Rock band, fireworks, formal reception and everything. It's the end of an era, we wanna make that clear."

"Then we gotta start a new one." He laughed. "It's gonna be a long road to rebuild, not gonna lie. We fucked Kotir six ways to Sunday when we attacked it, and then we burned down everything around it for shits and giggles after. Not a lot left, just a lotta woods, rubble, and an old quarry."

"The Abbess has this vision of a refuge for goodbeasts. Said it came to her in a dream, I dunno about that. Calls it… Haven. Gonna take a lot of builders to make it real." Another dry laugh. "I may be a mole man, but I don't know shit all about building. So I dunno 'bout me. Might just pack my things, drive back home or die trying."

He hesitated, then stood to leave. "Don't die on us, Martin. It might be better, but it won't be the same with you around."

"Citoyenne Gingivere Capet!"

He grimaced, glancing down at the chains wrapped around his paws. It seemed just yesterday that he was celebrating his newfound freedom with the very people who now wished him dead. He pointed this out to his escort, "I was on your side, you know."

The mouse literally spat on him in response. "Face your death with some courage, scoundrel."

As the dejected wildcat slowly ambled towards the gallows, the crowd began to yell and chant:

"End the corrupt dynasty!"

"Death to kings!"

"Justice!"

"Get rid of Greeneyes!"

Suddenly, Gingivere stopped in his tracks. Before the guards could react, he turned to the crowd and shouted, "Peaceful creatures of Mossflower! Why are you doing this?"

The crowd became quiet, surprised by the sudden burst of defiance.

"I have been on your side from the beginning. When Verdauga ruled, I was the voice of reason and mercy. I was framed and imprisoned by Tsarmina so she could take power for herself. And when I was freed, I fought beside you. I am not your enemy," he orated. "Yes, I am a wildcat of the Greeneyes dynasty. But if you are executing me because of who I was born as, you are no better than Tsarmina and her oppressive reign. Ask yourselves, all of you, is this who we are?"

The crowd began to murmur among itself, a questioning tone rolling across the gathered woodlanders. As soon as it had begun, however, it ended, and they were soon shouting again:

"He's a cat, cats are evil!"

"Just kill him!"

"History is written by the victors!"

"Skin the cat!"

His escort, without a trace of apology in his voice, told him, "Sorry."

Gingivere offered no answer, instead compliantly marching toward the guillotine. He closed his eyes and let himself be pushed down onto the board and slid into position. Seconds later, the executioner released the blade.

The last Greeneyes was no more!

They seemed to have been walking for hours and hours, paw in paw, when they finally paused near a rocky outcrop on the edge of the forest. It was still dark in the forest itself, but the sun was beginning to rise in the distance, its rays eerily stopping at the edge of the treeline.

"Unfortunately, this is it," Rose stated sadly. "It was good seeing you again, but it's time for you to go."

Martin The Warrior complained, "But Rooooooose…"

"This is the afterlife, Martin. You weren't entirely wrong back there," she explained with a sigh. "The thing is, it's not your time yet. You've still got a whole book ahead of you, after all."

"Another book?" he questioned.

"Well, depending on your interpretation, maybe many more than that," Rose admitted. "Martin The Warrior. It sounds good, you know. And maybe you've finally earned it, but you have a legend to carry on."

The warrior mouse whined, "But I like it here!"

"I'm sorry, Martin, but you have to go back." She reached forward and gripped his shoulder tightly. "So wake up, Martin, wake up and smell the ashes…"

"Um…"

She quickly flicked her hood back over her head and started backpedaling, waving her paws. "Thus kindly I scatter… scatter… scatter…"

"We're both still here," Martin pointed out. Indeed, his companion was standing awkwardly between two gnarled trees.

"Sorry, my timing's off by about thirty seconds," she apologized awkwardly, fiddling with her paws. "It should happen any minute now. Boy this is awkward, eh?"

"Yeah. Pretty awkward-" Suddenly, Martin found himself falling, and the world went white.

"He's waking up!"

"Oh my God, it's a miracle!"

"Aren't you the one who operated on him?"

"Yeah, that's why it's a miracle."

Slowly, Martin The Warrior opened his eyes. He was in a rough bed, surrounded by the people he loved and also a bunch of people he didn't like very much.

"You can't kill me," he croaked. It wasn't supposed to be a croak, rather a badass boast, but his mouth was so dry and his throat so parched that was all he could manage.

"Alright, he's alive, if you bet against him, well, it was a safe bet but it didn't work out," Skipper of Otters announced to the room. "Just hand over your money easy-like, we're not savages."

"Wait, people considered me dying the safe bet?" Martin questioned as money was grudgingly handed over and the room began to clear out.

"You were pretty fucked up, man," Dinny informed him. "And we literally burned down all the hospitals."

"But we had faith you'd pull through, right, matey?" Gonff said with a smile, punching Dinny lightly in the shoulder.

"I mean…" the mole said awkwardly. "I'm down two hundred bucks, let's just leave it at that."

The mousethief recoiled in shock. "Dinny, how could you?"

"I uh…" Dinny stammered before bolting out of the room, leaving the two mice alone.

"So, how do you feel, matey?" Gonff asked quietly.

"I had the best dream," Martin bragged with a smirk. "You would not believe it."

"Oh, I'd believe it." He pointed awkwardly to a spot just below Martin's waist. "You, um, yeah."

"Um…" the embarrassed warrior coughed. "You know, I'm not gonna apologize. The dream was that good."

Fin

"Are you kidding me?" Martin The Warrior shouted angrily. "That's what we're gonna end this on?"