Ogre Battle: March of the Black Queen

by WhiteFangofWhoa

The hearts of the people were troubled by secrets and betrayals and much blood was spilt upon the land. Here, on the frontiers of Sharom, the last survivors of the knights of Zenobia were planning the final challenge... Novelization. Rated for language

26. The Siege of Allamoot Part 2

Disc: Ogre Battle is the property of Enix.

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The Siege of Allamoot (Part 2)

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RALLIBEL FORTRESS

Seeing their allies safely returned from their mission at around the same time, Deneb the witch smiled, spun and clicked her heels in utter contentment. "Awe-SOME! I haven't seen a plan this big go so well in centuries! And that one only worked because the king just killed people whenever something went wrong in his plan."

"That sounds just like someone else I know", Destin Faroda noted wearily, searching the fortress' sparse courtyard and making sure Tyne's people were all there, along with the Wind Rider's legion of flying warriors and griffins. His own armour had acquired a new collection of deep slash wounds amongst the bright red metal, and he could feel pain of the flesh from at least one of them- general Previa's legendary sword Fafhniel had cut him deeply before they'd pulled out using one of the magical items they'd purchased for this battle plan.

All the same, the uplifting, almost giddy energy he was feeling right now numbed much of that and he actually fought not to dance with Deneb; this was indeed the most ambitious, meticulous strategy they had ever put together, fitting for the Empire's strongest fortress, its final wall against invasion. When things were working this well, he would not dare let a few flesh wounds slow his progress in front of so many. Canopus Walf had perched upon the fortress' east turret, staring down at Destin with a predator's glare that looked imposing and frightful but was more likely one of adroit respect. He had taken no casualties in his portion of the plan, and had unleashed Thunder on every mermaid led to the island cove by Tyne's units.

Coupled with their own magic bell, the Wind Rider's unbeatable speed, the mermaid's innate weakness to electrical spells, and the pirates' thorough knowledge of the archipelago, together they had led lady Eribeth's mermaids into a trap that had destroyed them all with a ruthlessness equal to the Empire's worst massacres. While the bitterness in his sharp eyes was understandable, everything else he saw along with it made Destin sigh in relief. Canopus knew what had to be done. This was not at all like the situation at Kasolat.

Turning, he faced his other co-commander of the diversionary force, Saradin Carm. "Everyone made it?"

The Truthsayer waved a hand dismissively. "Twenty four of our people dead if you don't count my golems. But yes, no one was abandoned who was not already slain or doomed to be. The warp spell affected all of us."

Like the bird man, Rashidi Light's last remaining student seemed much more at ease with the rebels as of late, though the limitations of his gift often made him quite awkwardly blunt in conversations. While Truthsayers could see through any falsehood, they were also forbidden to ever tell a lie, or else their rare gift would be forever lost to the world.

Saradin, Destin could always trust to speak his mind without worrying about how others felt. Much like his mentor Warren Moon in fact, whom he had seen Saradin spending many nights alone with when they were not engaged in battle. For Tarot readings? Just two old wizards exchanging stories? That was one thing he didn't know, and it wasn't in his nature to pry.

"Good", he said. "I'm sure Lans and Warren and the rest are anxious to get going."

"At once", Saradin nodded. He cared nothing for the golems that had been lost in battle, torn apart by enemy spells. Not even the special golem which they had procured from Albeleo Kaisse's vile laboratory, which should also be destroyed by now if the plan was proceeding on schedule.

Unlike his fellow disciple, Saradin knew them to be merely enchanted stone, easily recreated when he had the time and resources such as the lab in Balmorra had given him. This was a blessing, since the creatures' incredible resistance to physical punishment made them the ideal frontline guards- 'meat shields', as Deneb would refer to them- even the holy Brunhild sword, now lost to Destin by way of its rightful owner, had taken several hard swings to destroy them completely.

Seeing him finish the business at hand, Canopus glided down to him and made a brief bowing motion. "I hear much noise on the winds of the archipelago. The rest of my people have escorted the islands of Shangrila and Muspelm to the positions that you requested. They say that Supreme Overlord Hikash Vinzalf has engaged your decoy as planned, but is quick to return to the heart of Allamoot."

Destin nodded back. "Then we have to hurry. Once we arrive, take to the skies and try to spot him out among the dunes. We must remain aware of his location at all times."

"Agreed", the bird man said wistfully. Even their most arrogant and prideful fighters knew the dangers in any battle involving the Empire's single greatest soldier, and the stories from his daughter Rauny Vinzalf nee Rauny Zenobia had only worried him further. A major focus of the plan had been to isolate the Overlord, to keep him away from the rebels until the rest of the enemy could be silenced. While they had just stranded over five hundred enemy soldiers on a giant ice floe along with the Drei-Deva, Cale Previa, all estimates pointed to an even larger garrison at the fortress itself, and yet another huge force guarding the only port less than a day's march from it, Laisse. The hard part was yet to come. "What if he finds us?"

Destin's eyes narrowed in thought. "If so, then attack him from afar with your spells to try and slow him down. When and if he reaches us, only unit leaders are to engage, and all at once. If he is alone, we might have a chance at victory then."

The bird man snorted, for once sounding as disgusted with life as he had when they had first met. "Typical human plans, falling apart if the slightest thing goes wrong... But I do thank you for not mentioning this part of the plan to Yulie. We'd never hear the end of it."

"I surmised as much", he agreed, eyes drifting over to where Deneb was disciplining her newly-minted 'pumpkin soldiers', mostly with repeated whacks on their massive orange globes with her wand. Bizarre-looking, top heavy, untried, and untested since she'd created the Glass Pumpkin from a rare golden bough, the bipedal pumpkin heads would be the wild card, to be deployed when things went sour. "We all prefer to keep our loved ones safe, even on field of battle. Yulia shall remain here."

"That is all I could ask for", Canopus said simply. "When the war is over, my clan shall retire to the Sky Islands. If I should fall before the Empire's defeat, then I at least know she will be cared for by our people."

There was no sign that his headstrong sister had heard them. She merely emerged onto the the fortress' main balcony where all could see, confusion causing the crowd to quiet for a moment as they saw her wings spread, and a strangely melancholy look in her eyes.

She began to sing, using a calm-sounding yet nearly ethereal voice Destin had only heard her use once before, when she had dwelt upon the memory of Gilbert and Canopus' long ago falling out. They would later learn that this was planned between the bird girl and the wizard, set up to draw attention at a time when everyone was expecting the final confirmation to travel to Allamoot and the next battle.

'O the fighting man shall from the sun
Take warmth, and life from shining land;
Find speed with god-sent winds to run,
In men a caring hand,
And find, when fighting shall be done,
Great rest, and fullness in his band.

Us all bright company of heaven
Hold him in high comradeship;
The morning's star, and heroes seven
Kasolat's belt and sworded hip.

The woodland trees which stand together,
They stand to him each one a friend;
They gently speak in the windy weather;
They guide to valley and ridge's end.

The kestrel hovering by the day,
And the little owls which call by night,

Bid him be swift and keen as they;
As keen of sound, as swift of sight.

Her passionate gaze travelled over to Canopus alone, clearly imploring to him whatever words could not, for whatever musical talents their clan had had clearly passed over the Wind Rider.

And the blackbird speaks to him, it says 'O brother, brother,
If this be the last song you shall sing,
Sing well, for you will not sing another;
Brother... sing.'

The signal went off with the final verse, hurling into the sky with a wheeeee sound before detonating miles above them, becoming a massive expanding sphere of glowing bits.

"Hm. Neat", Deneb observed from the ground, momentarily distracted from her duties. "I've got to ask Saradin to teach me that spell some time. Looks like fun. Not a bad song either."

Beside her, Destin had more serious sentiments in mind. With any luck, the various divisions they'd carefully positioned around Allamoot would all catch the signal in the sky. So would the Empire, though they wouldn't understand its significance since it was more commonly used to declare a victory at night instead of the early evening before the battle was truly over.

Prince Tristan commanded the main assault force. Its job was to tie up the Empire's port garrison at Lasieve, drawing them out into a protracted battle and convince the enemy that the rebels were indeed attempting a naval invasion north of Komaya pass. Warren had promised something useful in that regard, and despite all that had come between them Destin saw no reason to doubt him in this case.

Then Rauny's group of valkyrie and angels, still high up on the Isle of Muspelm, could use the dragons and Wyrms under their command to descend upon fort Allamoot, strafing it from above.

All of which would hopefully make the enemy fail to notice the final group making its appearance in the town closest to their position, the tiny fishery of Plinsport which more fliers from Shangrila had already taken care to liberate secretly, abstaining from the usual tradition of replacing the Empire's red flags with rebel blue.

It relied on a great deal of ifs, Destin knew that. If the enemy acted as expected, if they were strong as expected and if the night's sandstorms were enough to obscure army movement as much as they usually did, then Allamoot, the eldest and greatest fortress in the lands of the south, would finally fall. And none outside the Empire would mourn its passing.

"Gather 'round", he barked to everyone, seeing Saradin return and Canopus rallying his own people once more. "I promise this is the only time I'll ask you all to do this... take my hand."

Naturally, several of them looked skeptical- he had shared this part of the plan with many, because many simply wouldn't understand it. He wasn't sure if he completely understood the powerful magic spells which had gone into the creation of these rare and expensive objects. So long as they worked as advertised, he would not complain, and the bell had done that for them.

Most of the people in his divisions do doubt felt similar, because after a moment of uncertain murmuring, he felt a Paladin clasp a mailed hand to his own, a strong grip to emphasize a renewed faith in him. Saradin took the Paladin's hand, and a wizard tucked his staff into his belt and took the Truthsayer's other hand. A chain was swiftly formed around the courtyard, a large circle culminating with Deneb's own hand brushing his and setting his heart aflutter.

"Let's go get 'em", the witch announced simply, her Pumpkin soldiers arranged to her right.

Which left it to Destin to finish, leaving Deneb's hand momentarily to strap the strange item onto his foot. At the moment, it looked like a mere leather boot sold in any half-respectable tailor's ship in Malano, but Warren and Saradin had both examined the item and confirmed its power, power commonly identified with the magical item known as a '7 league boot' for reasons Destin had already forgotten.

"Plinsport", he said, retaking the witch's hand. "Take us to Plinsport, now!"

Nothing happened. He thought he might have felt a prickling sensation in the boot, but that was merely a bug. Much to their credit, the others did not laugh or complain. Instead, Canopus stepped forward, holding the arms of two of his own people. "Plinsport. Take us to Plinsport!"

"Plinsport!", Saradin echoed, comprehesion dawning. "Take us to Plinsport! To Plinsport, to Plinsport!"

He felt nothing in his boot, but the rest slowly took up the chant regardless, louder and louder. "Plinsport, Plinsport, now!"

He fought to keep frustration from his face, repeating the demand again and again. Wonderful. All this preparation and we're ruined by a defective item. Without us to support the invasion they won't be able to hold the fort after the walls go down, and Debonair's group will be trapped in-

"NOW!"

They were gone. Chills of raw magic not unlike Antanjyl's vengeful ghosts rocketed up Destin's spine in the white light, but he was comfortable enough with the knowledge that the boots had finally worked, that they were on their way through the invisible currents of magic, that soon they could join their allies and strike a crippling blow to the Empire's mightiest fortress...

The world of the damned stretched before them endlessly, causing even the frozen land Galf had ruled to be remembered fondly compared with this eternal gloom. Aisha had been the first to fall, killed by a maddened giant's rush, and without their healer the group had quickly worn down whatever remained of their resolve.

Guildus and Mildain had gone together, brothers not in blood but spirit, both paladins falling with identical grins. Then went Selec Fubuki, the lone proud samurai who had never once requested aid even with a swarm of higher-league demons bearing down on them with scythes and dark magic at the ready.

And still Antanjyl would not release them. Destin, Lans and Deneb trudged onward, striking down walking atrocities with every mile, every time expecting the next mile into the never-ending darkness to be their last. Even the witch had abandoned her usual comic patter, now lacking the strength to keep it up.

When their end finally came, it approached with unique dignity considering the setting; a dozen red-skinned devils phasing into being around them, followed by an arrangement of formerly-living beings whose sins had sentenced them to even deeper levels than the first, each one visibly mutilated by their stay but unable to die.

Their exact makeup did not matter- the first wave alone would be enough. They all knew it, and braced themselves for the final battle.

Then the large horned demon at the head of the group knelt down in what was unmistakable a posture of supplication, and the rest followed suit.

"Worship?", Lans asked in confusion, looking around at the mass now bowing to them. "What manner of trickery is this, beast? If your aim is our end, then t'is better to get it on with."

"This is not a trick", the leader spoke in a rumbling, deep voice. Unlike many of his brethren, his was not at all suited to the high-pitched cackling that Imps were known for. "This is an accolade. You have reached the fifth level of Antanjyl. That is unprecedented for any mortal, living or dead."

"We've been going down", Deneb moaned in despair, unable to hide it any longer. "Not up."

"Congratulations accepted", Destin said, stepping past her with weapon drawn. He felt terribly numb, but Antanjyl's power had not completely sapped his will just yet. "So. Will you be killing us now?"

The creature's fanged maw broke into a grin. "Hardly. Even if our victory was certain, it has been centuries since we have witnessed the coming of a new demon lord!"

Destin saw his confusion mirrored on his remaining comrades' faces, and looked back to the demon. "A lord? I think there's been some misunderstanding. We just got lost."

"How fortunate that you did." Oblivious to their sarcasm, the leader gestured around at the endless gloom, punctuated only by the occasional pit of emerald fire. "In this world, strength is everything. There are only a handful capable of holding on to their sanity as you have, and even fewer that could have also defeated so many of the underworld's denizens while doing so." Raising a trident looking to be made of bones, he pointed the prongs at Destin. "You have proven yourself worthy of being crowned the lord of the fifth level!"

"No!", Lans shouted, drawing his own blade. "That cannot be! He is a good man!"

Sheathing the trident, the leader stretched his wings. "You are a good man, Lans Hamilton. You have no place down here among the damned, and you will be returned to the surface for your valour. These two, however... they must remain here. Even if we left you be now, you would be unable to ever escape, or survive for much longer. Antanjyl has you now, mighty human. In your heart, you already know this."

And he did. The creature's words merely gave credence to a notion that had been creeping through Destin's wearied mind for the past few days of their journey through the lands of the dead. He nodded slowly to Lans. Moved over closer to Deneb, so that they would not be parted... and sheathed his sword.

Lans could not think of anything to say. His face said it all anyway. Regret. Sorrow. Apology. Respect. It all vanished in a pillar of angelic light, and then his friend was gone.

"It will change you", the demon leader said as a futile warning. "Not merely your minds, but in the coming weeks your bodies will gradually be altered in order to survive down here. But all of us believe in your strength, humans. We are yours to command my lord, even should you wish us to invade the fourth or sixth level of Antanjyl."

But Destin was barely paying him any mind. He was not even looking at him, instead staring into the witches' teary eyes. Nothing on earth had ever made her so sad, not even the prospect of mortal death. "This is it, isn't it?", she asked in a voice like broken glass. "Down here. Together forever? I won't be able to come back this time.

Kneeling down, he pulled her smaller form into a powerful hug. "Where wretches like us belong. Together forever. Is that so bad?"

"...No." A weak smile, but still a smile. A miracle in this place, from one who had never realized the prospect of permanent cessation before now. But even this was not the end. It could be a new life, different from all the times she had reincarnated in the mortal world.

And it would be permanent. "No, I suppose not. This is what I wanted all along, isn't it?"

She leaned in closer. Despite the chill of this realm Destin's lips burned to the touch, perhaps a silent indicator of his own terror. How much more frightened must he be feeling, completely unused to the joys of an immortal's life when he had never even changed bodies before now?

It would be up to her to help him through it. With time and patience, he could become as respected a lord of demons as he had been of men. An eternal reign of greatness.

They broke apart and she smiled, stronger this time, making an inviting gesture with one gloved hand. "I got you into this, cutie. The least I can do is make the best of it now. What is your wish, my lord Destin?"

"Destin?" The demon leader's face fell, an expression that looked slightly ridiculous on a face like that. "You are not the Demon Lord Prier?"

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SKIES OVER ALLAMOOT

Kaus Debonair knew his trade. At least, when it came to riding dragons through stormy skies such as these, Rauny Zenobia knew she had a great deal to learn from him. And for once, they could talk entirely in Highlander- according to Ara and Norn, her Zenobian still needed improvement.

Always more to do. But for now, the siege awaited them as they descended from Muspelm, a maelstrom of spells and arrows fired through the night sky in the hopes of striking the rebel fliers as they made closer passes at the already aflame fortress garrison. Seeing a barrage of fireballs sailing through the air and falling just short of Debonair's ride, she focused and brought down bolts of lightning in reply. "No coordination", she noted in surprise, almost disappointment really. She had thought her people better than that. Their rigorous training had failed them this day.

"Great effort has been made to leave them leaderless and disorganized", the traitorous general pointed out calmly. "If one of the Deva or lord Hikash were in charge we'd have much more to worry about. Speaking of..."

He made it sound seamless, like he'd actually been expecting a flock of dark feathered Raven clanners to break out of the cloud bank shrieking battle cries at the kind of mad animal pitch only Canopus' people could manage. "Finally. Now, gentlemen... and ladies. In Freya's name!"

Following the direction of his longsword as he pointed it towards the newcomers, a dozen dragons and other flying creatures directed all their attacks as one, and the 1st Deva followed that with his own special Nibelung technique, Blade. Up in the sky it looked even bigger, a curved blue line carving through cloud and then flesh. Multiple projectiles came back, but she figured the enemy division had already taken serious damage. Tired already from having to fly around all day and keep tabs on Shangrila and Muspelm, while we're completely fresh.

There was a lingering burning sensation from where an Inferno spell had grazed her, but soon enough even that faded when Norn Dias was finished her chanting, unleashing healing magic across the entire group. The Malanian priestess had taken a young griffin instead of a dragon, knowing full well she had no place in direct combat, but unwilling to let her loved one out of her sight again, not after he'd nearly died from Gares Endora's torture of him.

Gares Endora, whom Rauny herself had once wished to join in matrimony. But something had happened to that handsome prince over the past twenty-five years that had turned him into a rampaging beast of black iron more akin to the Ogres of legend. Extracted his humanity completely. If indeed there was anything left of the young and charming man she had once been close friends with, it was buried deep, and Sage Rashidi Light was the obvious target for the blame.

Now, his very touch of her skin had chilled her to the bone when they had fought at Shangrila, and his offer even moreso. Never. Never shall I wear the armour of the Black Knights, no matter how much power they offer. The Paladins and Muses of the Empire are disgraced enough already without turning to the ways of the Dark.

And it was too late now anyway. Prince Fichs Tristoram Zenobia, who had to be fighting somewhere down below at this very moment, had done so much more for her than Gares Endora ever would. Better, he was the one who had shown her the worst excesses of her people up close, and convinced her that the time for drastic action had come. As annoyingly indecisive as his initial attitude on their reunion had shown him to be, Tristan was yet twice then man Gares was in this particular princess' estimation.

So why had that chill occurred when he'd touched her? And why had he made the offer specifically to her, no one else?

Never. She clamped down on the reins of her Silver brood, preparing for the rush of a power dive, staring at a strange-shaped cloud as if it were a floating head. Goodbye, my old friend. The less she thought about desperate notions of saving prince Gares from his fate, the better. His path was already set. As was hers, now; Imperial law did not look upon oathbreakers kindly, something she was certain Debonair knew just as well as all the other Highlanders who had joined them, most of whom were in this very group.

That made her feel a bit better. It showed that she wasn't only one who had taken offense with the direction her homeland was going and sacrificed her oath to fix things. And a Deva would sacrifice even more by betraying Zeteginea even if they had tried to kill him and Norn first.

Only Kaus executed the next dive perfectly, his trademark hazy blue beam cutting into a guard tower that had held three enemy spellcasters and severing the crown, taking them with it. While technically 'Fort Allamoot' was a long line of stone walls, ports and towers that spanned baums from north to south along the shoreline, the enemy had chosen to keep the majority of their divisions not currently engaged at the spot where concrete transferred into the outermost area of the famous Dahlmud desert, a vast region of endless sand which even Rauny had never visited.

The sands here blended with fierce Highland winds at night and made visibility even worse- the enemy's counter of Muse-induced thunder strikes came from nowhere, made her mount cry out in pain, and she began slowly to heel it down instead of fighting to stay up. That was perhaps the only upside of fighting in a desert- the sands rushing up beneath her would cushion a fall, make it far less damaging than a tumble into water or hard earth.

As it had during the descent to Malano, her stomach threatened to give in, but she held on until the final slam threw her from the saddle. Prying herself from the disgusting sand, Rauny heard a faint, pitiful cry like rubbing glass, and hung her head briefly at the pair of scaly eyes that watched her even as they narrowed to desperate slits. The Silver dragon was dying.

"Eiger rum Freya", she offered softly. Of course the majestic creature did not understand Zeteginean. As Lyon and the others of his trade had implied, they recognized the tone of words better than meaning. She had not even learned this one's name, but everyone in the rebel army knew by now that all dragons stood somewhere upon the wide line dividing an animal intelligence from a human one- it was what made them so difficult to domesticate. If indeed animals, then they were the smartest animals in the world by far. She bowed her head. "Geine-wohl."

The words were offered in respectful tone, and the dragon seemed to nod back at her in acknowledgment before going perfectly still, its yellow eye sliding shut forever. When this was over, she'd have to come back and give it a proper burial.

Assuming she survived.

It was ten minutes after leaving her mount that she sensed the danger and hid herself behind the nearest dark sand dune. The enemy was alone, but large, and wasting no time heading for the fortress to help defend it. No sooner had she taken in the details of the colossal man's black battle armour than his mailed hand flew out, devoid of sword, and she rolled away from the detonation in the sand caused by shifting air. The flying grit added to the miasma, and it was several seconds before she could make out her attacker's shape again, and confirm what she had seen through the impromptu sandstorm.

And offer up her best Highlander curse.

The armour was unique. Thick iron pauldrons emblazoned with the mark of the sacred valkyrie Lenneth and blemished with countless kill marks all along the sides and legs. A winter's marination in ancient Highland dragon's blood lent it a shining gauze, as though it were encased in invisible glass for all time.

It was the battle armour of her father, Overlord Hikash.

He recovered first. Though Rauny bore the standard robes and silver plate mail of a high-ranking Imperial Muse, she had no doubt that he had instantly recognized her fair blond hair and exposed face. "...My Rauncorintha. Dare I imagine you have come back to us at this crucial moment?"

The words hurt worse than she expected, worse than when she'd been hurled from the dragon. Tightening her fists, she raised the cross at the tip of her pike, speaking once more in her native tongue, with which she was far more familiar. "I am sorry, Father. I have chosen my course, and I intend to remain there."

Looking back up she realized that her father had not stopped walking past her towards the burning fort. His large strides had nearly taken him out of sight already, and she ran to catch up, cursing how annoying it was to move through sand dunes the whole time. "Father! Father! If we are on opposing sides, then we must fight! I cannot-"

The howling winds seemed to steal whatever conviction she could put into her voice to reach him, and he did not stop walking. "This would be another part of Destin Faroda's plan, would it not? To force me to fight my Rauncorintha and play on my heart, to delay my return to Allamoot? It would seem that you've chosen a cruel master, my dear."

That made her angry, gave her rough combat voice a new strength as she ran after him. "Destin is not my master, father. Nor is he a cruel man by any stretch of mind. This was a chance meeting arranged only by the Goddess Freya. Can we not recognize such a divine sign that the time for conflict between us has passed?"

"It shall require far more than happenstance", Hikash replied stiffly, only slowing his pace down a notch, "much more than mere coincidence, before I shall renounce thirty-five winters of loyal service to my homeland. If you are certain of the worthiness of your cause, then by all means remain with it my dear. Let the Goddess guide your sword, and justice be your drive."

"I am", she confirmed after a pause. "You taught me well. I'll always remember the look on your face when you saw me master this... Thunder!"

The bolts descended, grinding into the armour... and left only scorch marks behind. She hadn't expected much better- she of all people knew her father's power. If one judged purely in terms of physical strength instead of magic, he was certainly the mightiest warrior in all the Highlands. And now it was her sworn duty to stop him.

She howled to the sands. "Gather now and strike with power! Descend heaven's wrath, and tear away all false truths! Thunder!"

Using the full incantation produced a better result; an entire stream of the blinding bolts raining down on Hikash like a storm of Rauny's own making, briefly illuminating the night so they could even see the Rebel and Imperial fliers circling above. Looping trails of smoke rose from her father's armour... but he did not fall. He did not even stop walking.

"You must try harder", the Overlord said to her without a hint of mockery. He was never one for taunts, least of all against his eldest child. "Surely, your instructors have taught you better than this?"

"I don't think they ever figured I'd be fighting you, father."

He shrugged, never ceasing his walk across the sands. "Quite understandable. Will you lay down your weapon now, my dear? I really must reach the fortress Allamoot before your rebel friends can take it for their own. As you know, our country's future depends on it."

"I know", she nodded back, just as she had with the dragon. "That is why I cannot allow you to proceed any further north." And she brought the pike down, repeating the full incantation of Thunder as before with a silent prayer to Freya.

And there it was, her prayer's answer, the world's tiniest twitch in response to her positioning. The single ley line running across the dune from the wall to the main gate, which only wizards could supposedly detect.

Rauny hadn't known about any of that. It had merely felt 'right' to unleash her last attempt from the top of that particular dune. The bolts were much more controlled this time, merged into a tight column 'only' the width of a house that jabbed into the seams of Hikash's armour like a giant's blade.

Then there was the briefest grunt from her father, and he stopped walking forward.

"...Much better", he noted in pride, turning to bring his weathered eyes upon her at last. "You've developed your skills considerably since you left us."

"The true warrior can never rest their blade", she quoted back at him earnestly. "Either the blade becomes sharper, or it breaks. There can be no middle ground, there can be no retreating. And yes, sparring with the rebels' greatest heroes has helped me a lot more than hanging off Baron Apros' arm like some common catspaw."

The mention of the late Baron seemed to anger him, or at least diffuse the look of honest pride he'd been making her feel most uncomfortable with. "I hope that's not your reason, daughter mine. But that look in your eyes... tell me... are you satisfied with your new companions? Do they treat you as befits a paladin of your rank and caliber?"

She forced a laugh from that, nearly fatally dropping her guard. "Actually, half of them still think I'm an Imperial spy. But I'm confident that they'll accept me in time."

"As well they should", Hikash agreed. "And where do you see yourself, Rauny, in that time?"

Of course. It was foolish to think she could hide this from him of all people. She might have deceived him once at Malano, but she was no actor. The fresh zeal for life had shone through her eyes like newborn stars, whether she wanted it to or not. She drew back, mustering strength of will. "Sitting on a throne, father. As the married queen of King Fichs Tristoram Zenobia."

That statement probably could have stopped her father in his tracks without the need for such powerful attacks. His flinty eyes had gone wide, but she knew there was always a feeling like the very land was trembling when he was truly angry, and this was only a light vibration at best. He was shocked, perhaps, but not furious at her choice like thousands of proponents of pure Highland bloodlines would be. His mouth opened briefly then he marshaled his words properly.

"That is... all I could ask for. If you truly love this prince Tristan, then you have my blessing, as well as my prayer that nothing comes between you before this conflict ends. I would hate to see you made a widow so soon."

"I do", she said, her gaze firm. How to explain to him without seeming soft and sentimental? "I do, father. He's not a true warrior- he deplores all violence, in fact- but his courage is without peer. He is kind, but he is practical. He makes me feel like prince Gares used to, before his..."

"Before he embraced the Black Knight's road", Hikash summarized with a nod. "Then there is nothing more to be done. You must choose, Rauncorintha. Show no hesitation. Attack me, or retreat now. Nothing less is your sworn duty to your new commander."

Indecision made her hesitate, and Hikash gave a short sigh. "No regrets, now. That is the one thing that I don't wish to see from you. Fight me as you would any other enemy. Show me your pride as a Highlander!" He threw his left arm forward, thrusting into the air, and again Rauny had to duck and roll to avoid an explosion of sand. Another attempt at Thunder only inflicted partial damage, and so she moved her halberd back to the melee position and, shrieking a war cry that would have scared Tristan, charged.

Something else got there first. It first appeared to be a mass of golden light undimmed by the sands, but as father and daughter lowered the mailed arms they'd both instinctively raised for protection, the light broke into dozens of smaller shards. The shards became people- wizards, paladins, strange figures with abnormally large heads.

And Destin Faroda. She spotted him in the middle of the crowd, hardly believing what she saw. "Not Plinsport", the rebel leader observed once his head cleared of visions, looking around the desert and drawing back at the sight of Hikash so close by. "But I'll take it if it means saving Rauny. Is he alone now?"

Stumbling over the less familiar language of the Zenobians, the princess tried to order her thoughts. "Affirm. Trying to breach- reach Allamoot now. Fight?"

An explosion of sand threw the frontline of the newly arrived divisions into chaos, and he waved them back. "Only the leaders! Everyone else who is not a bird man, march with Ordas to the fortress and attack along the west wall!"

He'd turned his back on their enemy while directing them, and had not turned back since then. Instead he went very still, nodding to Saradin and Deneb as they both took up positions around the Overlord, Rauny following suit.

"So you're the head man of Zeteginea", he remarked. "Rauny's told us much of you. I will give you one chance- stand down, or we shall kill you."

Her father seemed equally calm about the whole ordeal, speaking in curt Zenobian now. She couldn't see how- her own heart was pounding like a golem's footsteps. "And you are the rebel who has caused us so much trouble. Your rocky alter ego did not impress me, but mayhap that was your intent?"

"It was", Destin acknowledged with a nod. "Anything to distract you while the rest of our plan was executed."

"I see." Hikash threw his right hand forward, and a cry went up from the assembled wizards. They were in retreat now, falling back from the small canyon that had just opened itself up before them like an Ogre's hungry maw. "Most unfortunate, then, that your clever plan to destroy the walls of Allamoot with your wizards has gone astray. You have skirted the majority of our forces with magic only to run into me here."

It was only then she noticed father had drawn his sword, Gottwachter. In this grit it looked less magnificent than Rauny knew it to be, a dark pillar of metal, but its sheer size made Saradin step back. Freya help us...

Destin turned, and all the others launched their attacks as one. Two blazing streams of fire from Saradin covered a strike that had lain hidden in the storm above- a stun spell of Deneb's normally emitted from a cloud.

""Frost of Niflheim, bestow Justice's fair chill!", Destin had screams while all this was going on. "The burning moment breaks, all things else are out of mind, and the joy of battle takes thee by the throat, and leaves thee blind! We shall shatter the passion of frozen hearts! ICECLOUD!"

The Overlord fell back clutching his shoulder- even here in the desert night, the cutting ice had retained much of its potency. But his counter attack was again aimed at a group who had done him no harm- a massive vertical cut with his sword, the resulting razor wind eviscerating several wizards and setting off a Pumpkin soldier prematurely, the detonation causing even more casualties on that count.

"Over here!", Deneb taunted, pulling the lid of one eye down and sticking her tongue out, the obscene gesture masking their desperation to provoke the Overlord away from the wizards. "Nyahhh! Have a taste of this, big guy! PUMPKIN STORM!"

As excited as she sounded, the attack was actually only a single large pumpkin dropping from above to explode into fragments and juice and seeds when it struck the Overlord on the top of his helmet. The confusion it caused in everyone present was more valuable as Rauny and Destin both recovered and repeated their previous attacks.

Then, through the miasma of disturbed sand and the din of lightning and crashing ice spikes, her father's voice rang through as he charged the wizard division, louder than she could recall hearing him: "Raze! Destroy the world with war's unstoppable fury! NIEBELUNG BLAST!"

The golden globe was massive, easily twice the size of when general Figaro had used the technique. Whatever fraction of visibility or hearing had remained to them vanished in an instant as it went off, and Rauny could feel the deaths of the wizards her father had targeted as they were blown apart from beneath.

When her senses returned, she could just make out the red-clad form of Destin running to intercept, feel the unnatural chill of the Phantom spell. Not Destin's, but Saradin's spell trying to steer the Overlord away to no avail.

Which left it up to her, the only other one of them with any skill in direct combat. Further detonations from Deneb and Saradin kept Hikash distracted long enough to drive her pike into the huge man's exposed back... then dart away as he wheeled about to confront her, his blade keeping Destin's at bay.

But not completely. The rebel leader's weapon suddenly gleamed and both Highlanders withdrew from the surge of magic-induced heat. On the other side, she entered a well-practised series of slashes enhanced by the electric charge of the Thunder spell, knowing already that the stabbing end of her weapon was more likely to become lodged in Hikash's armour than do any serious damage.

They were like the twin hornets of legend now, neither capable of felling the great beast alone but by alternating able to at least keep it at bay. Whenever his attention focused too much into an attack on one, the other would be there to punish him with a strike along his exposed flank. Strike which had to be hurting him, despite his lack of reaction.

Yet for all this enthusiasm and coordination, nothing could stop him from completing the objective he had set his sights on- the rebel wizards. Those who had not already fled to Plinsport found themselves tossed into the air by atmospheric detonations, or worse by a second golden globe of pure destruction, the perfect expression of the philosophy of general Figaro.

She had lost track of the number of strikes and dead wizards when another giant pumpkin hammered Hikash from above giving them the chance to disengage. And breathe. Breathe. She had never felt so tired, and the land battle could not have lasted more than fifteen minutes...

"Enough", her father declared crossly, taking the opportunity for his own leaping disengagement- straight back across the artificial sand ravine he'd created. "I have no further time to waste here. Pursue me at your own peril!"

"OVERLORD!", Destin yelled across to him, quickly seeing the danger. "I had thought Highlanders were courageous warriors! Do you flee us now!? Are you a coward?!"

Seeing the dour expression on Rauny's face, Hikash laughed. More, she thought, to try and cheer her up than because he actually thought the taunt to be funny.

"We are courageous, Chaos-Bringer, but ne'er are we fools. Without your powerful wizards, you have no hope of breaching Allamoot's walls. That division you sent on ahead will be unable to penetrate alone. And should you have another such group attacking from the north end of the desert, I've already dispatched half of our standing forces to Lasieve. All that remains is to chase off your flying divisions."

Sheathing his sword, the Overlord went on to give him a brief two-finger salute. "You have led us on a merry chase indeed, young man. But tonight your uncanny luck has failed you. We have you. We have won."

Looking as though he was about to leap the chasm, Destin visibly sagged... and looked up. "No. It would be more accurate to say that Kaus Debonair has won on this night."

Hikash followed his gaze, not quite sure what he was seeing with such poor visibility. Even had the skies been clear, this was one terrible weapon Rauny knew her father had never faced before. He would not even know what the cloud of black specks descending on Allamoot was.

"They're termites, lord", Saradin provided earnestly. "A nearly extinct creature with a voracious appetite for wood. That is the last colony in all the lands of the south, possibly in the world, conveyed to us by the merchant lord named Toad. They shall devour the wood that forms the foundations of Fort Allamoot, and then quickly be devoured in turn by local colonies of ants. And the walls of that fortress-"

A deafening groaning cut him off, and Hikash was no longer paying him any attention at all. His eyes were entirely fixated on the way the huge fortress' walls were sagging downward, cracking from the coastal bases and releasing ashphalt like plumes of steam. The wave of dust was barely noticeable among the sands, but everyone could tell that the walls had taken a massive blow.

"Debonair did that?", Hikash asked, for once at a loss for words. "Unleashed that?"

"From above", Destin confirmed, the false wrath he'd tried to bait the man with gone. "As I instructed him to. He dropped the jar containing them. And now the angels and bird men who have been waiting patiently on our Sky Islands have their signal to attack, joining Debonair and Norn's divisions. They'll fight it out, and then Ordas' division will arrive on the ground and finish the job."

"I see", Hikash closed his eyes, not wanting to reveal shock to his greatest enemy. "Indeed. Quite an extensive setup. For years, I have wished to see such a degree of planning and coordination in my own officers, but none of my chosen, my Deva, were truly up to it."

"To be fair, you didn't know we had those", Saradin offered graciously. "Or the magical warp items. Without those, this attack would indeed have been a failure."

"Bad luck, I suppose", the man agreed, giving his daughter one final glance. "If you'll excuse me then, I must attempt to salvage the situation as best I can. As enjoyable as killing you for this would be, boy, duty always comes first."

And with that, the Supreme Overlord of the Imperial forces turned and ran. And no man or woman there could stop him.

---

FORT ALLAMOOT

Destin had been very clear on his instructions to each rebel division- the termites were to be allowed at least five minutes to finish their duty of snacking on the walls surrounding Allamoot, and no one was to approach before then unless they felt like fighting naked.

Even now, general Kaus Debonair was wary as his fliers approached the ravaged parapets, keeping a wide berth from where ten minutes ago he had dropped the harmless-looking glass canister on the heart of the fortress. He would never forget when he'd first seen the black swarm of ravenous insects tearing through Zenobia's own walls, leaving his garrisons out of position at choke points which no longer existed. Just one of many miracles that had defeated him on that day and led him to this point.

He breathed a sigh of relief- the princess Rauny had assured him this would be the last time the rebellion would use such a terrible weapon. The merchant Toad had no further such bottles in stock, and the Roshian priest who had preserved the original sample had died from the plague some two months prior. A good thing it was that the creatures were so short-lived.

Now, though, it was their turn to play their role. Allamoot had had its walls stripped from it, but the enemy force within remained strong despite being reduced to a quarter of its original numbers. This would be his first battle against his own people, and he searched the skies for Norn so as to exchange glances, for her to let him know it was all right.

His people were ready and able, mostly Highlanders joined by recruits from the Sky Islands. Many had fallen, but four divisions remained. Initially the seraph Yushis was meant to join them here in support role, but she had disappeared on the eve of the attack. Reluctance to shed blood seemed to be a natural part of her, just as it was with the grand majority of her people.

Debonair shook his head, his long hair swaying on the wind. His people could figure out what exactly the existence of real angels on the Sky Islands meant for their beliefs after the war was over. For now, there were enemies to slay, and despite the fact that he likely knew many of the people down there, he would not insult their lineage and honour by offering surrender. Mercy is a weakness.

He pulled his own ride, a rare Gold brood from the Tundra, up alongside the rest- it seemed eager to begin. "Gentlemen... we know what lies ahead. Do not let familiarity stay your hand, but give our brethren a fair demise. Be wary, for none know what lies waiting for us, or how long it shall be before captain Lans' divisions reach us."

"WAAAAIT!"

The new arrival burst from a cloud bank like a knife, looking as though he'd barely held on to his Red dragon, an unwieldy thing bigger than Debonair's Gold with an equally oversized head and fangs.

"Galnam Lyon", Kaus noted, already sensing curdling hostility among some of his people. "So glad that you could find the time to join us now that the enemy's wall is fallen. You may lead the assault on the west wing of the fortress."

Messily bearded and windblown, the mercenary shook his head and gave a toothy grin. "Don't think so, hoss. I'll be going up the middle same as you. The big boss man has gotta be in there, right? Then that's where I'm goin'!"

More annoyance among the crowd, but a pleading look from Norn made Deobair reconsider his words. "Sir Lyon... we are of course, very grateful for your contributions to the rebellion. Many of these dragons and griffins were tamed by you, I believe. But these enemies are not animals. They are top-rank Zeteginean troops."

"No difference then", Lyon replied casually, ignoring the dirty looks he'd invited. "You sayin' I can't fight good as them? Didn't you hear me when I said that I fight like 10,000 men?"

Ignorant Zenobian swine, the thought popped into Kaus' head before he remembered which side he was on. "I'm saying that prince Tristan will not be paying you any extra Goth if you come with us and fight. You'll be in danger. I will not ask any of my people to watch your back down there."

The man's eyes seemed to widen in shock, just a bit too theatrical to be real. "Oh yeah, hadn't thought of it like that. No profit in getting myself killed, right?"

Debonair was thinking of a reply that would salve the mercenary's wounded ego somewhat when he gave a keening animal howl that echoed through the clouds and was likely picked up by the Imperials still within the fort.

And the world dropped out from under Kaus Debonair, as it had for several of the others in his divisions. Without being prompted, his Gold had suddenly dove straight down towards the conflagration of Allamoot at the highest possible speed, nearly causing him to drop his sword.

Forcing his hands back up to the reins, he offered a Zeteginean curse Norn would have scolded him for- he hadn't been lying when he'd estimated Lyon was responsible for taming and training a good number of the rebels' flying beasts, with the more reasonable Gilbert Oblion taking the lion's share of the rest. Seeing Debonair and so many of his people suddenly diving, the rest had followed suit.

To his relief, the mad dive did not result in anyone falling off that he could see. With practiced ease he angled the reins to regain control, partly forcing, partly willing his Gold dragon to stop at the top balcony on the ruined roof.

Lyon was right there, tucked in behind him, smiling as if he'd just been given a pay raise. So undignified. Suppressing his desire to simply hammer the upstart, Kaus surveyed the area, taking note of the places where the enemy had chosen to gather, and which places had simply collapsed after the termite bath.

"Worgen", the beast tamer called, for once sounding serious. "A good pack of 'em on the east wing."

"Not to worry, we have some Silver dragons going that way, and the Daimyos are with them as well."

Likewise, Norn had regained enough control to bring her griffin to a halt and step onto the balcony, dismissing it after. Two more Muses had actually pulled up from the dive, holding nearby. Kaus waved them eastward, drawing his long blade with the other hand. "Five of us, then, to handle whatever awaits in the main hall. Norn..."

"You need me", she said, not even bothering to outline all the other reasons why she was staying at his side. "Even a Deva can use healing."

"True enough", he muttered. "Though it's not often we've needed it until recently... And of course general Figaro would never consent to it anyway."

"Which would be why he's dead." She took care here not to let her voice crack- even if the young Rowdain Figaro had always held a disturbing bloodlust within him, he had still been his friend and fellow Deva for many years. "I know- I was there when we fought him. All alone in his frozen hall at the Kalbi Penninsula, and still we barely won. If he'd had clerics helping him then..."

Then Norn might have died at his hand instead, was the first idea that came to mind. And Destin Faroda might likely have died there as well, which meant no one could have stopped Shangrila's descent destroying Zenobia, and he never would have seen Norn or Figaro's face ever again before the end.

"It is not for that reason that I will allow you to come with us, Norn."

Rubbing some stray ash off her nose, an abnormally long one which she had been mocked at the Roshian convent for, she gave a warm smile, born of compassion for all living things, not merely her lover. "I know that you feel the same way I do. We may have to do something about that later, but for now... it'll manage, Gods willing."

"Gag me with a spoon", the third member of their group complained. His dragon seemed equally impatient "Can we just get this on with already?"

"Some day, barbarian", Kaus suggested darkly, "some day you may be so lucky as to find what we have found in each other. On that blessed day, perhaps I shall do as you request."

They went, hurrying down the steps with the two dragons behind. Almost immediately, the general grimaced. Being far older than any Zenobian or even Zeteginean architecture, Allamoot followed a design all of its own that was not conductive to easy or quick navigation. The grand stairway zigzagged down the body of the fortress without any sign as to which floor led where or for what purpose.

When a hallway became too narrow for dragons, they simply unleashed breath weapons of ravaging flame and piercing ice, crushing walls apart without a care, leaving the sides open to the outside air and sand. The desert fortress had already lost its entire outer shell- there was no point in going to any effort to preserve what remained.

Three Paladins awaited them on the main floor, all of them adept at healing each other when needed and managing to inflict several wounds on the group before dying to blade and whip and breath, leaving Norn the time to mend the damage with Roshian prayer. Past that, a handful of less skilled troops merely panicked at fled at the sight of an Imperial Deva marching into their barracks accompanied by dragons.

Finally, at the end of the main hall where the three main stairwells converged at a round stone dais, the guardians of the fortress woke. Had there been similar works throughout Allamoot, Kaus might even have mistaken them for more architecture, but having two identical statues of such incredible detail did not mesh with how spartan the rest of the place's setup had been.

Spreading his arms to hold everyone back, the Deva stared wide-eyed at the twin colossi, marveling for a moment at the detailed craftsmanship which had gone into their identical spiked hair, togas and massive builds, both easily twice the height of a normal golem, if that was indeed what these were.

"Ah, brother", the left statue spoke first, deep and laid-back tones breaking a morose pose of contemplation near the dais, the one on the right following his move closely. "It would seem that the Rebels have finally arrived."

"It would seem that way, brother", the right statue concurred in an identical voice. "The Rebels have arrived. What was it that we were to do when they arrived, brother? I'm afraid that I've forgotten."

"A valid question, brother", the left twin assured him as they both stretched their rocky arms and calves, creaking as they did so but showing them off all the same. "Throw a party, perhaps? Is that it, brother?"

The right twin seemed to consider it for a moment, then cracked his rock knuckles in unison with his twin. "No, brother, I do not think so. Not a party. It was something else, wasn't it...? Master Radish said we were to kill them all, didn't he?"

"Yes, of course. Something else", the left twin sounded relieved. Relieved, and eager, and that eagerness slowly creeping onto both their otherwise rather blank-looking faces in the form of a demon's grinning rictus. Two of them. "That is what master Radish said we were to do didn't he, brother? That when the Rebels arrived, we were to kill them all, yes?"

"Yes brother, we were to kill them all", the right twin finished in complete certainty this time. "It's such a thrill, isn't it? Nearly as good as a party, is it not?"

"Okay hoss", Lyon announced, pulling his whip taut. "You know what? You two can go back to makin' lovey-dovey. Anything's better than listening to these two jokers prattle on all day. Up to and including a kick in the groin."

"Don't say that", Norn cautioned him nervously, moving back behind the dragons and readying her ankh. "They may just oblige you. Are these golems, Kaus?"

"Something like them", the Deva agreed furtively, moving against the left one and directing his Gold to the other. The breath weapons would not be as effective as magic, but it was the best they had. "I had heard that Albeleo was working on making improved versions at Balmorra. These ones seem to be working directly for Rashidi though."

"Or 'Radish'", Lyon pointed out, still whimsical. "Hey general tightwad, 5,000 Goth says I take out the right one before you beat the left."

"No bet", Kaus snarled. "Take this seriously, Zenobian. Your whip will be useless against these abominations. You should run."

Whatever confident quip Lyon might have offered was lost when the Gemini twins charged at their targets, battering them with fists and feet of rock, and there was no further time to exchange words.

Kaus had fought Golems of all types before. They made natural sparring partners since even his sword could not cut them deeply, inflicting only superficial damage most of the time, and many a rogue wizard had tried relying on them to save them from Zeteginean justice. Over time he had learned their weak spots, the common places where the magic holding their bodies together was weak, and he had held his own even in cases when counter-magic was unavailable.

This experience allowed him to barely survive against the left Gemini twin. The thing was more acrobatic than its size and weight should have logically allowed, flipping and leaping about trying to catch his human adversary off guard with punches and kicks. Repeated healings from Norn and diversionary blasts of flame from Lyon's dragon kept him intact and conscious.

It was not long however, before he knew the same would not be the case for Lyon himself. The other Gemini twin was ignoring every whip strike, focusing instead of battering past the Gold's fangs and claws and frost and planting a punch into the beast's wide torso, leaving behind a circular gouge of dark red.

"They are quite strong, brother", the left twin observed as the duels continued, his twin gaining more and more of an advantage all the while. "Do you think that we should use that attack? That would teach them."

"A most interesting idea, brother", the right twin said, voice not even slowed from the ice encasing his shoulder. "Yes, they are quite strong, so why not? Let us use that attack, brother. That will teach them."

On cue, both of them leapt back to the dais in the center of the hall. Before Lyon could pursue or any breath could reach them, Debonair's opponent lifted Lyon's into the air as if to suplex him. Hauling his twin brother about as easily as a farmer baling hay, their arms and legs locked together, melding as if both had become one single sculpture, and immediately Kaus sensed a great power at work. "Schiesse! Get back! NOW!"

"Castor!", the left one cried out over the sudden rumbling overtaking the hall.

"Pollux!", the right screamed.

"GEMINI!", the twins howled in unison, their eyes flashing inhumanly, the noise echoing through the entire grand hall until Kaus thought it would crumble.

It did, but not until the attack itself was launched. Instead of an energy wave or any of the powerful spells they had come to know and fear from wizards such as Rashidi, Omicron or Albeleo, this attack merely launched the right twin- Pollux? - forward like a cannonball. Too fast to avoid, too fast to even shout a warning as the living projectile sped past Kaus and down the hall into the chest of Lyon's dragon.

When his senses returned, still ringing from the awful din, Kaus nearly dropped his blade, trying to reconstruct the scene in his head from the brief flashes of it he'd been able to see. Pollux lay in the heap at the far end of the hall, though he was slowly getting back up with only a small amount of lag to his actions to show for it.

He had passed into and through Lyon's red dragon, impacting the creature's wide chest scales then burrowing through them with sheer kinetic force. Unlike its brethren the second stage of a red dragon's evolution allowed it to stand upright on two legs, leaving the front two free to rip and tear like arms like any bipedal form.

However, that form was now missing too much crucial flesh, a massive man-sized gap where the Gemini twin had passed through the chest and out the other side covered in dragon's blood. Most of its wide jaw and torso was torn away along with the left arm, and only now was the rest of the severed body succumbing to gravity, toppling to the floor in a horrid mess.

And Galnam Lyon howled something just as loud as the attack had been, something only other dragons might comprehend. Because Castor was closer, he launched himself at the massive enemy, his rage nearly enough to allow him to pass through the griffin-level gust of wind he had summoned with a wide haymaker striking at the air about him. The mercenary flew back to be caught by Norn, and Debonair stepped in to place himself between the left twin and the others, hoping Tzerna could at least delay Pollux.

"Master of all swords", the 1st Deva whispered quickly as if speaking to his long blade, "Partake of mine energy and cut down all wicked souls! Niebelung... BLADE!"

It was not often he'd used the entire incantation of the technique- most opponents would not have allowed him the time to concentrate and focus on it. But for all their strength, these two living statues had not come across as terribly intelligent. They had never travelled outside the fortress they had been built to protect. They had not actually fought someone for many years. Possibly decades, for if they had word would have irrevocably spread throughout the Empire of such power. They had to be recently awakened.

Then, the general noted, amazed at his own rationality at this point in time, it stood to reason they would not realize how much his being able to recite those words would amplify the strength of the technique Freya had granted him.

The resulting line of blue energy slashed across the hall towards the dais, maiming pillar and brazier and wall alike. Castor merely looked curious at first, stretching out a hand, then the line burned into him and he rocked back. He did not scream or make any noise showing he'd been hurt, but the rock-scar running along his palm, down the arm and across his chest down to his right pectoral said enough.

"Have they hurt you, brother?" This from Pollux, who had now entered rapid-fire air thrusts, pummeling Tzerna with invisible blasts of wind. "Does it hurt? That looks quite serious."

"It hurts. It is quite serious. brother", Castor asserted, standing and fixing Kaus with the same mad grin as before. "They have hurt me. But at least now people will be able to tell us apart."

"Ah! You are so optimistic. Indeed, people will be able to tell us apart now brother. Shall we kill them all then?"

"Indeed, brother. We are quite optimistic." The scarred twin knelt down, preparing to charge their position and Kaus' braced blade. "Now let us kill them all, shall we?"

An explosion from somewhere outside threw the charge off slightly, and Kaus seized the chance. This faster Blade was not the full incantation, but he aimed it at the ceiling, not Castor. The resulting collapse was as deafening as the Gemini Attack had been, tons of rubble crashing down on the scarred twin. Kaus turned around and grimaced. As he'd figured, Pollux had completed his own charge into and past his gold dragon, and was now close enough to threaten Norn and Lyon.

"Trying to get back together?", he asked in scorn, raking the other twin with his blade again and again. "So you can use that combination attack of yours? I think NOT, gentlemen. Keep them separate! Whatever you do, they can't be allowed to use that again!"

He hadn't meant for Norn to act, but she stood strong nonetheless, hold up her ankh and reciting a chant. A large cross formation of light identical to her staff appeared, shooting forward past more wind blasts and stunning the right twin for a moment.

Lyon was even more eager, lunging once again and this time reaching his target. He clung to the statue closely as a lover, stabbing again and again at the joints with his skinning knife. In truth this was more hindrance than help, for Debonair did not dare strike with his blade while an ally was grappling with his target. He sighed in relief when Tzerna recovered from her earlier beating and spewed blinding frost from her maw, prompting the mercenary to leap away just in time.

"Gold dragons, abomination", the general said evenly, preparing another strike. "Creatures born from the coldest glaciers of northern Zeteginea, capable of cracking even stone and metal with their breath. Everything freezes, and very little survives, but they possess a greater wit and nobility than you ever shall."

For a welcome change, Pollux did not say anything, perhaps reluctant to do so without his brother accompanying him. Instead he let the next strike spin his body around, charging back towards Tzerna and knocking the beast out with a high uppercut, the hunched gold brood lacking the bipedal claws to block such an attack. The frost had not slowed him much, and Lyon's black rawhide whip remained ineffective as ever.

And Castor was back, bursting from the pile with a languid stretch. His first strike warped the air and blasted Norn off her feet and out of the healing spell she'd been working on for Tzerna. Her counter went almost unnoticed. "He insults us, brother. Are we not smarter than a dragon?"

Pollux looked confused, then slightly angry. "I should think we are smarter than a dragon, brother. Can they speak? No. He insults us."

"Then he should pay a price for his insults, brother."

"Indeed, brother. There is always a price for insults."

He saw the synchronized charge coming- expected it really, considering their words- but his sword could only block one. Pollux fell back from the impact, but Castor continued to pummel Kaus' guard until he could hold it back no longer.

A heavy fist crashed into his sword arm's wrist and he cried out, prompting the scarred twin to aim a kick at his knees in hopes of crushing them as well. It took the general off his feet, the follow-up taking him in the chest and blasting him into a wall where he lay there and writhed.

Pain. Overlord Hikash had taught him ways to fight off pain, just as he had taught it to his other three apprentices. This had allowed him to continue to fight Destin Faroda at top form until Lans Hamilton had slashed along his shoulder beneath the armour, nearly severing the arm. Internal wounds could not be simply ignored like that, for even if he could ignore pain his body would refuse to cooperate. "...Norn. Healing, please! I cannot move!"

But no Zenobian prayer reached his ears. Turning his head despite the searing sensation it brough to his neck, he could see she was occupied trying to avoid being similarly flattened by Pollux's strikes, each move bringing the brothers closer to each other until their backs touched, and they folded up into the combined statue again.

"CASTOR!"

"POLLUX!"

"GEMINI!"

Everyone still capable of moving now knew to dodge the moment they heard the third word. For a moment Kaus' spirits rose as he saw the cannonball, which appeared to be Castor this time, fly past Norn's head to pulverize a wall.

Yet it was all too brief a victory. Both immediately resumed the attack against the remaining rebels, this time without their strongest member to take the hits or strike back. He could see Tzerna and Norn being backed into a corner, himself too weak and too afraid of breaking their concentration to advise them.

It happened nearly as quickly as the Gemini attack, Pollux's hand slashing down to break the dragon's spine. Tzerna shrieked and thrashed, but the unscarred twin merely shoved his arm further down, breaking more bones on the way. They would-

"Hey."

Pollux's fist slowed, and stopped. In the dim light it took several seconds for Kaus to recognize the dark hide of the whip that had caught it, wrapping around it and pulling with all of Galnam Lyon's strength. "Hey asshole. C'mere."

Castor lunged, and Lyon seemed to throw his arm forward with another dragon's howl. Another crash rang through the hall, throwing him further off balance as he tried and failed to stand.

He could only watch. Watch as Castor fell back, a look of complete astonishment on his slate face, looking like a child bitten by an insect, the new breach along the front of his chest leaking bits of some hybrid between rock and still-living flesh.

In short, he looked like most brothers would upon being slapped by a family member.

Equally shocked, Pollux yanked hard on the whip around his arm and Lyon allowed it to pull him over to them, gleefully wrapping both legs around Pollux's neck, the head nearly being the size of his entire body.

"Hey", the mercenary called. "Stop hittin' yourself."

Pollux thrashed further, but that merely gave his arm more strength as Castor lunged again, heavy fist striking his brother across the face as the whip guided it.

"Stop hittin' yourself."

Pollux had had enough. Vaulting into the air, he came down on his back, forcing the beast master to vault off to avoid being pancaked. The whip released, then lashed out at Castor's third charge, catching his left arm and bringing it down onto his twin's prone body.

"Stop hittin' yourself", Lyon repeated, looking somewhere between fury and a demon's amusement at suffering. "Hah! Anything to get out of fighting me, is that it? Should've known better than to challenge the mighty Galnam Lyon, hoss! You face the one man in the world capable of fighting like 10,000 men!"

Ordinarily Kaus would have shuddered at such unprofessional bragging and posturing, but it was drawing their attention away from Norn. "He mocks us, brother", Pollux said, climbing back to his feet but unable to hide his new injury nor that for the first time, the Gemini twins sounded angry. "He is most aggravating."

"Yes, brother. We are getting aggravated."

"Yes we are, brother. It is most aggravating to be so aggravated. Shall we kill him together?"

"Yes brother, let us kill him together, shall we?"

Lyon regarded them both with disdain. "Guess you both don't have the brains to see when you're outmatched, hoss."

"Castor!", the left twin snarled.

"Pollux!", the right twin growled.

"GEMINI!"

How to avoid a flying sphere of destruction that could pierce and shred dragon's flesh? A dragon could not dodge- even the young ones were too big. But Lyon had always been a hunched figure, short and limber as befit his profession.

And as Kaus watched helplessly with frightened eyes, he realized he was moving with the agility of the swiftest of desert predators, and that this was exactly what the mercenary had wanted the Gemini Twins to do.

Pollux flew forward too fast to see- it was only after he had flashed past that it could be seen whether or not the target had been hit. Striking the far wall with a terrible din, the massive enemy rebounded, losing none of his speed, still with his arms and legs and head tucked into the spherical shape. First striking Tzerna and finishing the work Castor had started, Pollux then shot back towards Lyon, forcing him to leap to the other side of the hall to avoid death.

Angled upward after the last bounce, the living sphere angled off the ceiling and back around the left wall, striking and shattering the door they'd come in from- Kaus had no further doubts they could somehow control the ricochet of such a technique. He winced and struggled to rise- if Pollux so much as brushed Norn, she could die from it, but she had wisely hidden in one of the secluded corners behind a large bit of rubble left behind by the termites.

Lyon, however, was now standing in the exact center of the grand hall, exactly between the main door and Castor. He could no longer dodge such speed, nor did he attempt to. He merely threw out his hands, bracing himself for Pollux's sphere of blinding death to take him full force.

And keep going. To continue to fly along the hall at that breathtaking speed without slowing at all, and to crash directly into the breach along Castor's chest muscles. And keep going into the far wall, even as the Gemini Twin shattered with an agonized cry.

For several moments no one moved. The ricochet had finally stopped, and Kaus could not stand until Norn's magic found him and restored the strength to his muscles. "Too late", he told himself crossly.

It was as he had envisioned. Castor had been crushed, his legs still standing upright in the middle of the hall, and the fleshy human in this multiple-collision looked nearly as bad. Broken arms and ribs, a trail of dark fluid leaking from the man's mouth, whip fallen from slackened hands.

"Why?", the general could only ask. "You are a mercenary. Why risk yourself like this?"

Of all things, Lyon looked amused, though his eyes remained faint and fading fast through Norn's repeated healings, relaxing the grip on his whip. "Reputation, hoss. Reputation's everythin'. Gonna go out... gonna go out good. Like my old man. Tell Saradin... he's still a stuffy old coot. Heh heh he he..."

Norn chanted one last time, there was a gurgling sound and the man went completely still. Kaus stared, still not quite comprehending what he'd just witnessed.

"Roshian Temple", Norn gasped, running out from behind her cover to survey the dead in worry. "We can get him there, and then-"

"Too late", Kaus knew without having to think about it. "Even if either of our dragons lived to fly. He is gone." His musings were interrupted by a new sound, a shuffling from off in the distance. "And we are not done here yet."

He was correct, but only just. Pollux came limping out to meet them, his face a mirror of opposites.

"Brother", the Gemini twin panted. "Brother, where art thou? Where are you? Why can I not feel you? What has happened to you?! TELL ME!"

Kaus stepped back, and signaled Norn to do the same.

"Tell me", Pollux repeated, blank eyes wild and furtive. "Tell me! BROTHERRRRRrrrrrrrrrrrrr..."

One last explosion, and greater than any in the rest of the battle. And Allamoot's already weakened structure could take no more- the walls creaked dangerously as the ceiling began to cave. By running, they were able to make it out just in time to see the fortress dissolve into a massive dust cloud that hung over the desert like an omen.

He could see the other rebel divisions from the small hilltop, see the way their opponents had broken and run. Lans and Warren's groups had pressed this far as well and engaged with a huge number of enemy divisions in the north end. But gradually, these dribbled away as well, leaving the stragglers to be cut down.

"As I thought", the general stated, searching for a topic other than the dead mercenary. "Two bodies, one soul. The original one Rashidi created must have been too powerful, and so he split it into two. Without one half, the other cannot exist."

"Good riddance to them", Norn said harshly. Still, she could not keep sorrow on her face for long, despite all that had happened. Considering the odds, their losses were minimal. He considered it a blessing that any of them were alive to see the new dawn.

And it was done. Figuratively and literally, Allamoot had fallen.

---

HARBOUR TOWN OF PLINSPORT

As befit a plan of such magnitude, it was a very long time before all the rebel divisions were able to gather themselves at the rendezvous point. As expected, the termites coupled with the heavy fighting at Allamoot to the northwest had left the place a crumbling ruin unsuitable for any kind of meeting, and so Destin Faroda waited there at the largest pub in the town with Deneb, Saradin, Rauny and the rest of his victorious group, to see which of their allies had survived and which had fallen.

Canopus was first to return, naturally. His fliers had detached early on to intercept any attempt to reinforce Allamoot, leading to a short, pitched battle with a clan of enemy ninja supplemented by doll mages and Titans. "No masters", the Wind Rider assured them curtly. "It must have been only the meanest of Prochon's men, a meagre offering to convince the Empire that he's trying to help them. Fifteen injured, no casualties."

"Well met", Destin clapped his arm to the bird man's shoulder, elated. "You may just be our greatest weapon against the Ninja order, even more than the Samurai who've rallied to us. Don't tell them that, of course."

He shrugged. "Two more factions of humans enacting an endless feud over a barren lifeless desert. It is none of my people's concern. Either of them."

"He means the terrain, I believe, Wind Rider", Saradin offered from his table where he'd convened with the other wizards, talking about the things they'd seen. "Crossing that is going to be a problem for us if only our fliers and Samurai can handle it."

"One thing at a time", Destin assured him, refusing to let thoughts of the future diminish the now. "Our victory today is miracle enough."

Tyne's mermaids emerged from the sea hours later, nearly causing an incident when panicked pirates took up arms against them. "Our contribution is done", the Nixie proclaimed emotionlessly. "We shall depart."

"Good fortune to you", Destin bowed to her politely. "And our sincerest apologies. We never desired to fight your people."

"No", she agreed, her fins pulsing at her waist. Some of her people still looked angry, but they would not fight over it now that their path had been chosen. "No, you did not. Queen Porkyus chose this dark fate for us, as did Lady Eribeth after her. As much as we hate your predations, your horrifying disregard for the ecology of the sea and land, I can see that humanity is the inevitable future of this world. Your rate of breeding is simply too great for any other species to keep up. You are a plague. And so, we shall find a new home, one free of them or any other who might threaten us, and rebuild. Farewell, humans. We'll not meet again."

"Smartest fishwife I've ever met", Saradin commented sadly once she and her people were gone. "You are aware they have more, aren't you?"

"Some", Destin confessed. Eribeth had led the bulk of the mermaids into their trap, but a few nomadic survivors in the Ryhan Sea to the north might yet flock to the Empire's banner when they heard what had happened to her and Porkyus. "Not enough to require our own force of mermaids and Krakens to deal with. Besides, she's done her part. All I want from now on is for them to be at peace with humans."

Looking uncomfortable with his dire memories of Kasolat, he gazed out across the archipelago's rough waters. "Surely, there must be somewhere out there in all the great oceans of the world that the merfolk can find sanctuary. Gods willing."

The largest group, the one led by Prince Tristan, Gilbert and Lans, was next to arrive. Sobered by losing half their people in the savage land battle that followed, but cheered immensely by Allamoot's fall, they embraced their comrades with open arms, with the only odd moment being when Lans refused to do that with his sworn brother.

Tristan, however, remained the fountain of optimism he'd been before his bloodiest battle yet, radiance only slightly dimmed by loss, or else cheered by his wife's survival to the exclusion of all else as they did far more than embrace.

"Everything worked, then?", the prince asked Destin cautiously. "The golem decoy, the frozen ships, the mermaid trap, the warping, the termites?"

"Thus far", Destin nodded. "Hikash destroyed the golem. We had to break off and engage him for a while to stop him from reaching Debonair's group, but when the termites appeared, he appeared to give up."

"The Supreme Overlord of the Imperial army", Tristan whispered in awe, "driven into retreat. Has that ever happened before? Rauny?"

"In the past", his wife admitted earnestly. "But against factions of other rebellious Highlanders, not a Zenobian army. In any case, he only fled because he realized the fortress was lost no matter what he did. If he'd stayed and fought..."

"Bad times", Deneb admitted behind her, tipping the brim of her pink hat towards the one who had contributed the most to that fight, Rauny. "I gotta say, it's been lifetimes since I saw a human that tough. What's that guy's secret, anyway? Nanomachines?"

As usual, no one bothered asking the strange pink witch what those were. "Training", Rauny provided simply. "Constant training in frozen climates. Training that would kill a lesser Highlander. Training that would kill me. Underneath that amour, his arms and legs are collections of calluses covering raw muscle."

"We'll get him", Destin promised, giving her a brief look of apology. "It will be difficult, but we will defeat him. We just didn't have the manpower to do so today."

"I want to meet him", Tristan spoke up suddenly, surprising the others. "Once, before he is... beaten. I realize I shan't be any help when the time comes to actually fight him-"

"But you shall, my liege", Destin cut in, frowning. "Don't be ridiculous. You're as good a swordsman as any man here."

The prince looked more than ready to argue that point, but instead deflated, backing down into his seat and clasping his hands. "I wish to gain lord Hikash's approval, that is all. Our union ceremony was quite rushed. To put it mildly."

Many laughed at that, all of them veterans of the battle of Malano against Baron Apros' Zodiac Stone-enhanced physique. The prince, however, did not, and Rauny went to him to exchange whispers meant only for their ears. That seemed to be the signal for the majority of those not too injured to stand to resume drinking, and indeed most did.

Destin would not. Not until the last group, the divisions charged with destroying the final guardians of Allamoot, arrived with the early morning sun. Grim looking even for rebel Highlanders, most suffering from deep wounds, they pushed through the doors and were immediately rushed to the back of the building by Lans, Aisha and the other clerics.

Leaving Kaus Debonair standing before his new leaders, not sure what to say. "Allamoot is no more", he announced plainly. "The Empire's strongest bastion has fallen."

"You can drink to that", Saradin offered, raising his staff. "You Highlanders do drink, don't you?"

When even a slurred cacophony from Deneb failed to put a smile on the general's face, Destin began to become truly worried. Seeing his distress and unwilling to leave him to what terrors the imagination could conjure, Debonair briskly stepped forward and laid the black rawhide whip on the closest table.

The remaining rebel leaders all stared at it for a moment. Destin looked like the whip had called a great weight down upon his head, only to merge with him, never to leave. "Lyon."

"His dragons too. I could hardly believe it", Debonair said stiffly. "The enemies we faced there were nearly the equal of Gares or a Deva, yet he..."

"Why?", Destin sat up suddenly, looking around the cafe for someone with answers. "Why would he help you? Surely he knew there was no pay in it!"

Seeing his anger, Saradin sat up and heaved a great sigh. There were times he truly detested the Truthsayer's mantle. "You have asked lad, so I must answer you honestly. When the mercenary lord used the ritual with the bell of light to awaken me, I learned all his secrets. And knowing all his secrets, I know nearly all there is to know about him."

Destin and Debonair both looked shocked by this, possibly because neither had been there to witness the ritual that had freed the wizard of Balmorra from his stone prison. "Much of it you already know", Saradin went on solemnly. "Born in this very region of Allamoot. An arrogant fool, eternally boastful of his fighting prowess despite his true talents lying in taming beasts to do the fighting for him."

Taking the whip as if to keep it, Saradin began to examine the handle closely. "But the rest of his story, the one he was too proud to tell anyone, is this: he was the son of the pirate lord Mulmy."

"Captain Mulmy", Debonair's gaze narrowed. "Weal'hath wretch. He killed nearly one hundred Imperial citizens before we tracked him down and hung him."

"Lyon felt much the same way", Saradin agreed, continuing to work at the base of the whip with his fingernails. "He sought to leave his own mark through mercenary work. When the rebels arrived in Zenobia's capital in need of additional manpower, he saw his big chance to become part of a legend. To be known as the man who saved the rebellion."

"Hence why he was so mad at me before", Destin realized. "He certainly hid it well, asking for that kind of Goth."

"He wished to be known as a feared mercenary by his pirate brethren", Saradin pointed out. "Not a 'bleeding heart', as they would describe many of us who joined the rebellion for no cost. So he stayed clear of the pirate cities here during the battle- too many who would recognize him. I don't believe he ever knew that Captain Mulmy was executed."

"He was reckless", Debonair claimed, remembering all the times the man had insulted them. "Foolhardy and arrogant, and the son of pirate scum on top of that. But... he fought like a hero this night. If to be remembered as a feared mercenary is his one true desire, then it should be granted." He peered over at Destin, eyes curious. "That is possible, is it not?"

"Possible", Destin echoed. "One need only circulate the story in the right circles in the cities around here. I shall have to speak with Fubuki on it. He's now the seediest mercenary in our entire army. He shall know how to spread rumours so that they are heard by the lowliest of the pirate gangs."

"They shall become legend", Debonair said. Somehow, he knew what he'd said would become true. It was destiny. "Let every Godless pirate in this cesspit know the tale of Galnam Lyon, the mercenary who was worth 10,000 men."

There was a clicking noise as he finished that hung in the smoky air for seconds, drawing all eyes to Saradin. Holding up two halves of a wooden shell, the wizard removed from them a battered-looking scroll of paper. "Hidden inside the whip's handle. Sealed with wax.", he commented, putting it on the table and unrolling it.

All three studied it carefully, almost immediately recognizing the arrangement of islands that made up the archipelago they had just spent days fighting to control. One huge one in the southeast bordering the Komaya strait, countless others to the north among the reefs until the channel narrowed into the rivers leading north to Ryhan, and an endless desert on the western shore where they now sat. There were arrows and keys, strange writing by one who cared little for penmanship that anyone outside themselves could understand.

There was one legible piece though, a larger written font on the southwestern corner of the yellowed parchment. There, the aging ink read Mulmy's Map.

---

BORDER FORTRESS MALANBA

There was no time to return to castle Xanadu. In fact general Cale Previa would no longer consider it out of the realm of possibility that he would never see his homeland in Zeteginea again.

His alarm mixed palpably with his anger as he stalked about their fallback position, a tiny palisade of wood and rock good for little more than gatherings of men and women in this region. He could not even stammer out a thanks to the group of dragon tamers who had led the rescue of his stranded troops, bringing them across the trackless Dahlmud desert to safety, and even the tropical paradise's sights could not calm him.

Safety. He laughed only to himself. With Allamoot fallen, there was no longer such a thing as safety. The Empire's belly lay exposed. While it was true that only flying beasts, Ninja and Samurai could manage to cross the desert in anything approaching decent time, it was also supposed to be impossible to successfully lay siege to the oldest fortress in the lands of the south too, and the rebellion had already done that. The fortress had lain broken and desolate as his men had flown over it, formations of shattered stone waiting to be consumed by sandstorms until nothing remained. In time, no one would remember the ancient bastion had existed at all.

This place, by comparison to that great fortress, was like the equivalent of a mud-thatch hut. But it did possess a palisade gate, scrying circles and a stock of medicinal herbs, and that was what they needed now. Previa stepped forward without fear, using a pouch of power at his hip to activate the former.

Rashidi's face awaited him at the other end in Xanadu, whatever merriment that had once been on his face gone like a summer's breeze. "General. Lord Hikash has not yet reported in. What happened?"

"We fought", Previa snarled, too tired to go into details the sage had not requested. "They pulled some lame tricks, and we had to retreat. I don't know where master Hikash is."

"Lame. Tricks.", Rashidi enunciated carefully. "You tell me that the greatest fortress in the known world was taken by lame tricks. That my own creations, the Gemini Twins, whom I built long ago to serve as its protectors, were defeated by lame tricks."

"I don't know where your damn creep twins got to, alright?", Previa sighed. "By the time we got off the ice, the whole fortress was a useless pile of rubble. There was no point in defending it further."

"Did you not prevent their wizards from reaching the walls? Did you not outnumber the rebels more than four to one?!"

"We did. Like I said. They-"

"Lame tricks, yes yes, I KNOW. Not even Destin Faroda could have managed a victory in a straight battle there." The sage drew back slightly as if in deep thought. "Kijinnst. If Allamoot fell, then my Gemini twins are dead with it. No matter- we must make preparations to defend Zeteginea."

"Where's the Empress?", Previa asked irritably. "I get that master Hikash isn't back from the battle yet, but-"

"Sleeping", Rashidi cut him off. "She has fallen ill and requested not to be disturbed. Until Hikash returns to us, I am in command here. We must act now."

He didn't like that at all, but there was no way to contradict the sage from here. Hope master Hikash gets back soon. "I have fifty-six survivors of my legion here with me. The rest were lost."

"Not enough", Rashidi claimed.

"Then we should return to the capital and prepare for-"

"No", the sage interrupted again. "You shall remain there and defend the Shulamana region. I have no faith in the High Shogun's ability to defeat them, and your people would only be a hindrance to them."

The adrenaline had now worn off enough that he could remember who he was speaking to, but even that could not keep scorn from his voice. "Honoured Sage. If they conquered Allamoot, my troops are not going to be able to stop them. I'm Deva, but they have slain Deva before."

"I believe you are correct, even if a desert might be the best place for the Drei-Deva", Rashidi said, leaning closer again so that his projected face filled the room. "But now is not the place for jokes. Desperate times, general. The time has come to make use of your friends."

The last word, so casually uttered, left Previa nearly as panicked as he'd been when they'd arrived here. He looked around in a whirl, making dead certain that no one had been lingering in the chamber to overhear them. Then, once he was certain they were alone, he himself leaned closer to the circle, trying to achieve the same effect on the sage's end. "I don't know what you're talking about, Rashidi. The only friends I have in Shulamana are the fifty-six people I have feasting downstairs."

But the Sage would not be dissuaded, smugness evident in his bearing as he played one particular card he'd clearly been holding onto for quite some time. He knew. He always knew.

If it takes a century of waiting, so help me I shall see you dead before me, Rashidi of Light.

"General, general, general. Surely coming from Allamoot you realize how unreliable pirates are as allies? And they are even worse confidants. I know all about your little smuggling operation. I have for years. I merely had no reason to divulge it until now."

"You will not tell the Empress Endora about this", Previa ordered breathlessly, his ice blue eyes wide with desperation. "Or master Hikash. You will not tell anyone."

The sage remained jovial. "Of course not. Why would I? The Empire still needs your talents, general. And now, it needs your friends to earn their living in Shulamana by helping us destroy the rebels when they arrive there."

"They might not", Previa suggested mildly, arms limp at his sides, clinging to the slim hope that he would not have to do as the Sage ordered. "Once they cross the desert, they can go straight to Xanadu if they wish, ignoring both Shulamana and Ryhan."

"Don't worry", the sage assured him smoothly. "Who is more clever than Rashidi? For I already have a plan to ensure that they will be visiting both of those regions. That's why I've stationed general Luvalon at the Ryhan Sea, along with the Cardinal Randals in the southern end in the sacred precint."

That made sense, at least. As did having Previa stationed here, where he could persuade his 'friends' to take up the fight. "Listen. I promised them that they would not be forced to serve the Empire. That they could live here without anyone bothering them. They will not listen to me-"

"You had best try to make them listen", Rashidi said firmly. "If reasoning fails, it might be worth mentioning to them that the rebels are allied with the Roshians, the convent of Avalon. That ought to make them reconsider their neutrality."

"Not if YOU don't send them here!", Previa roared, unable to hold himself any longer. "They have nothing to do with us!"

"Alas, it is already too late for that general", Rashidi proclaimed without an ounce of regret. "If Hikash and Endora had known of this... well, they would have had you executed or exiled. But besides that, they would have long ago demanded that your friends be drafted against the rebellion. You are free to arrange your defences however you wish... but when Prochon fails and they figure out a way across the desert, Shulamana is yours to defend, general. No one will be coming to help you. So I suggest you make better use of your resources."

The image rippled, and Rashidi was gone from the circle. Freya willing, I'll never see him again either.

He stepped back, and nearly fell over. This was bad. So bad that he couldn't even make a joke about it, something his fellow Deva had sworn he would be doing even come the world's end. Master Hikash... Luvalon... what would you do?

The obvious answer made the Drei Deva wince. They wouldn't be in this situation, of course. They would have simply followed their orders, slain everyone in Antalia without hesitation, and never consorted with the pirate scum of Allamoot to secretly move them into a far-off area where no one would think to look. Rashidi would have nothing to blackmail them with.

Blackmail... blackmail. Yes. Yes, of course. That just might work. That had always been the key difference between him and his three colleagues and his master, something that Rashidi no doubt knew as well.

Kaus Debonair would never even think about smuggling people across the border, or using an underhanded tactic like blackmail to control others. Rowdain Figaro might have if he'd had the brains to figure out how without killing the people involved whenever he got bored with them. Tanaburs Luvalon would only ever do so if ordered to by a superior, and Hikash Vinzalf would never order any of his Deva to do such a supposedly 'dishonourable' thing.

But him... Cale Previa was different from all of the other Deva. He always had been, both in speech and action. Born of Allamoot, thankfully not raised there but brought up as a paladin. In truth, he was much closer to Rashidi's way of solving problems, using every available option to get things done, and damn the consequences. All he had to do was be himself. It was better than being cut down like the others anyway.

"Get everyone ready", he called to a stocky Raven clanner as he left the chamber. "We march for Fort Shulamana in the early evening."

The bird man, a division leader, looked understandably confused. "Evening? You don't think we can go now? We're not that banged up, sir."

"No", Previa noted, feeling the old trademark grin creeping back onto his face. He knew how unsettling most people found it. Just be yourself. Laugh. Make your jokes. Get everyone riled up and uncomfortable and agitated. That's the only prayer you have of surviving the next battle. "Y'see, if we leave here at night we won't arrive at the fortress until the dawn of the next day. And I need it to be daytime then... You'll understand when we get there, promise."

The mercenary looked no less puzzled, but glided off to deliver the news to the others.

And Cale Previa was still smiling his old smile, a new life pulsing through his veins, the pulse of opportunity. If he could convince his 'friends' to help, if the enemy truly did come, if the trick he had in mind worked...

Then, perhaps, the last laugh would be on the rebels after all.

---

UNKNOWN

Dressed in the autumn orange gown he had bought her for their second anniversary, Laura Hamilton stood before her husband in what looked to be one of Zenobia's less-used streets. It was night. Laura looked suspended between sorrow and pride, speaking in that honeyed voice only older women could truly manage without sounding arrogant.

"I forgive you", she whispered.

Blood began to pour from the slash wound in her neck.

Lans Hamilton knew what he was seeing and hearing was impossible. Everything since the battle of Kastro was impossible. Yushis had told him the truth and given logical explanations for everything, but still it was impossible.

"The dead cannot return", she pointed out, echoing his own thoughts. "And Necromancy doesn't count. Wait around here long enough, and Bors will be along. That mercenary might even show up. I don't think he likes you very much though."

The knight shrugged as if it were self-explanatory. For her, it was. "He was a mercenary and a pirate. You say you two have come to speak with me?"

Laura shook her head sadly, paying the wound no mind as it seeped out to cover her from the neck downwards. "No. You have come to us. Your mind has already tasted oblivion. It's slipping back there."

He nodded, understanding and fearful of it. "This is a warning."

"You have never cheated before", she said with a wink acknowledging not only his faith in his king, but to her. "You cannot keep playing both sides of mortality, husband. Time's running out. You must act."

"Dare I imagine what fate awaits me if I should say nay?", he asked aloud. Normally he would have been more reserved, but this was inside his own mind where only he and Laura would hear.

The blood had covered Laura from head to toe now, making her frightened eyes look like two glimmering stars against a red sky all sailors would flee from. "Not just you. All who depend on you will suffer. And only you will know why."

"I cannot", he said firmly. "Not yet. He is required to destroy the Empire."

"He stepped down. He no longer controls the army. The balance of power has shifted. Why is he still needed?"

Lans spread his arms in surrender. He knew when he'd been caught in a lie. "Sir Destin is my sworn brother. To slay him would be a betrayal of our friendship."

"To not slay him would be a betrayal of the one who arranged this brief reprieve from the rules of mortality", Laura replied simply. "You have seen him, husband. He desires it. He knows the power such as he holds was not meant for mortal hands, that it was only given to him so that a far greater catastrophe could be averted, and now it has."

"Not yet", he repeated, hoping this was merely a product of his own mind. "Not while the Empire that killed you exists."

"The Empire that killed me", Laura replied, "is gone. Their power is broken. You have seen for yourself what your sworn brother will become in its place."

"No longer", he answered stiffly. His Tarot-granted vision had been worse than the Empire, that was true, but he had thought the possibility buried. "Sir Destin has learned his lesson on the dangers of power."

"Just Destin, husband. You can call him what he is in this place. Just Destin Faroda. A boy blessed with the power to see into the hearts of others and change their destinies. Even yours."

Lans put a hand to his face, found it covered in the opalescent white visor of his armour. He'd had enough. "You", he hissed angrily, "are not my Laura. She would never advocate the slaying of a friend. You are an illusion."

"No", Laura shook her head. "I'm you. Just you. That is the price. That is why you were sent back to the mortal world. Your task is not yet done. You must slay Destin Faroda, before the darkness claims him, and restore balance. This is your warning, Lancelot Hamilton of Zenobia. Your final warning."

His response felt reflexive, automatic. But somehow he knew he would wake up before he could finish saying it.

"Don't call me Lanc-"

Blink.

"-elot."

Alone again. Alone against the impossible decision, the pains that had plagued him at the last battle an everlasting reminder. The decision that would have to be made soon.

"Gran's bones", he whispered tearfully so as not to wake anyone else. "What am I to do?"

---

A/N: Pretty much the same story as I gave in my recent update to my Bleach story, Spirit Eater: I lost interest in this for quite a while, always promising myself I'd finish it but never finding the time. Also the average length of chapters make it more difficult.

But there is a bit more to it than that. I'll also admit I was originally planning to have a lot more stuff on my OCs, but it kept dragging down the main plot and I feel like I've departed quite a lot from the source material as is. So from here on in, most of this story will focus on the game characters, reestablishing their backgrounds and developments after this long hiatus, so as not to drag on for years more before the ending. Maybe I can make some side stories for them later or something, depending on whether people still read this or what. We'll see.