Author: Finally finished chapter 14. Gotta go do my lab report before I fail Physics. I promised there would be Cattleya and now there is. Let no man ever call General RTS a liar! Remember, if theres anything you want to say, dont keep quiet. Write a review! If you like this story, click the favorite or subscribe button below on the bottom left corner.

A week had passed since the attack and Henrietta sat in her command tent reading over the final casualty reports of the night attack. More than 35 thousand Tristain and Germaninian soldiers had been killed or wounded by the bloody combination of the inferno and the cannon barrage. Even now thousands of wounded men writhed in pain within a nearby medical ward, still suffering from the agonizing effects of the chlorine gas. But the biggest losses had come from the navy. Anchored and unmanned when the fire began, many of the ships had been burned to cinders. For once, the large numbers of the grand armada had been its own undoing. As sailors desperately tried to free the ships from their moorings, one ship would clumsily block another's escape route as the blazing fire soon caught from ship to ship. In the end only 84 ships had survived the battle. Many of them were unarmed transports that were practically useless in battle.

Eventually the flames had burnt itself out and the men had gone back in order to salvage whatever equipment they could find from the ruined city. The results were dismal. Almost all of their gunpowder had ignited itself within the flames. Most of their food and provisions had been burned beyond hope. With winter about set in within 2 months, an army of their size could only scavenge for so long before requiring supplies again. Henrietta had sent letters back to both Tristain and Germania to requistion new supplies and convoys but until those arrived, they army could not move without endangering their own supply lines. Charles V had been furious at the so called 'delay'. Henrietta noted how the man seemed to lack any sort of strategic understanding. To call the burning of Plotsmouth, a delay would be the tactical equivalent of calling the pope, a town friar. Not only did the attack effectively wipe out a large number of their fighting force, it had also destroyed their provisions destroying any possibly of swift retaliation. In short, the enemy forces had jeopardized their entire campaign with a single strike. She wondered how such an inept man ever rose to the position of first consul in Albion.

The day after the fire, Agnes took a small squad in order to investigate the nearby hill and there had been clear signs of a large force of artillery. Ammunition cases and spilled gunpowder littered the ground. Scorched grass and clawed earth revealed the cannons exact position. Other than that however, there had been no sign of the army that had attacked them. Mounted scouts had been sent out in every direction the very next day, but nothing had been found. General Gramont had insisted that no army could possibly have moved artillery pieces faster than their scouts. It was true Henrietta realized. Artillery pieces were heavy and cumbersome on the march and they usually slowed down the rest of the army to the point where many experienced generals often opted to forgo these killing machines. Yet somehow almost 50 of these siege weapons had disappeared overnight. Had it been levitation magic? Henrietta considered the idea for a moment before dismissing it. The enemy could not have had enough mages to carry such a large number of artillery. Henrietta frowned as she thought through the problem. She was so lost in thought she never noticed the messenger that had entered her tent.

"Your Majesty."

Henrietta's head jerked up as she noticed the man standing in front of her. "Yes,what is it?"

The man looked nervous. "Forgive me you highness but I bring word of terrible news."

o0o

Meanwhile in the Albion army camp, Andreas slowly unwrapped the bandages that had covered his face. Though the wound had long been healed, the slash left by the man in blue had left an ugly scar reaching diagonally from his left side of his forehead and down to the other side of his cheek. Alex sat in an empty bed beside him gazing at his new injury with a look of contemplation.

"Very intimidating." He said truthfully.

It had been a weak form of consolation but Andreas smiled anyways.

"No, seriously," Alex continued, "The ladies love a man with a good scar. Makes you look very rugged. Wild."

Andreas rolled his eyes. "Any news about the enemy movements?"

Alex nodded. "They've set up a fortified camp some distance away from Plotsmouth. They haven't moved much since. Most likely," he mused. "they're waiting to be resupplied before moving out again."

"Will you attack them again?"

Alex looked up to meet Andreas' determined gaze. Alex had known Andreas for some time now and had no doubt that Andreas would insist in taking part of the next attack if he said yes. Truth be told, that's exactly what Alex had planned to do before. With the enemy demoralized, undersupplied and weakened, it would've been the perfect opportunity to finish off the invaders once and for all. Of course, that had only held true before he had learned about the existence of the void mage. After Andreas recounted his story to the other officers of Alexander's staff, Ney Drake had realized exactly who those two mysterious figures had been, the void mage and her familiar, Gandalf. If half the rumors about them had held true then Gandalf was a near invincible warrior, capable stopping entire armies while his master the void mage was the mage of obliteration. The void mage was said to be capable of destroying entire cities with her destructive magic reducing them to nothing but a large craters. Alex shuddered at the thought of such horrifying magic wreaking havoc on the capital of Londonium. In Alex's eyes, the void mage was the magical equivalent of a nuclear missile.

Alex shook his head. "No, that girl and her familiar are too dangerous and the enemy still has the numbers to defeat us. Our best bet would be to find a way to nullify those two before attacking."

Andreas nodded. It made sense. "Would you like to have Rangers 'take care' of them?"

Alex raised an eyebrow. Clearly the general wanted revenge for his lost subordinates. To be fair, Alex too had shared his sentiment. He had known every man in that squad since their years in the revolution. Many of them had been his friends and each death had hurt him like a blow.

"I'd like too but I don't see how they could succeed while the target is well protected in the middle of the enemy camp."

"Ah."

Suddenly a soldier had entered the tent saluting at Alexander and Andreas."Sir, the fleet had returned victorious from raiding the enemy convoy."

Alex nodded. "Good. Tell Admiral Tyron to report back to me in my tent."

The soldier shuffled awkwardly. "umm… sir, I think it would be best if you see this yourself."

Alex blinked in confusion. What could be so important that Admiral Tyron had to call out Alexander himself? "Very well the lead the way then."

Closely followed by Andreas, Alex allowed himself to be led outside the tent by the soldier. Floating in the sky flew the victorious ships of the 3rd Albion naval fleet. There were other ships that Alex did not recognize and it took him a moment to realize that they had been captured enemy ships. Wordlessly, the soldier led Alexander on to decks of the largest of the siezed ships and down to the guest suites on the lower levels, stopping right outside an elaborately furnished door. There the soldier had stopped, unsure of what to do next and Alex and Andreas exchanged perplexed glances. After a moment of hesitation, Alex reached out and tentatively opened the door.

Alex stifled a gasp, as inside the room sat the most beautiful woman he had ever seen in his life. She was tall and elegant, dressed gorgeously in a simple light-blue gown. Her pink hair was wavy and waist length, falling on either side of her face and framing her features. Similarly pink eyes sparkled with serenity and grace. The picture was completed by a straight nose, a firm chin and luscious lips that echoed a hint of wit and kindness. Alex thought that she seemed like the type of woman who got along with children well.

They stood silently for a moment, unsure of what to say. Finally the woman spoke up.

"Good afternoon," she said in a composed manner,"My name is Cattleya Yvette La Baume Le Blanc de La Valliere. It's a pleasure to meet you." (Author:And yes that is her full name.)