The first thing Kyrike saw when he entered the hall of Dragonsreach was the almost uncountable number of Imperials at the ready.
The second thing he saw was a certain tyrant running up the stairs, her fancy gown trailing behind her.
Jarl Dagny the Daring.
"Pa, Jarl Dagny just went up those stairs!" Kyrike hissed in his father's ear. "I can tell by that look in your eye that you want to be the one to off her. Go on, son. We'll take care of things down here." His father ominously replied, cracking his neck as he slowly walked up to the nearest Imperial, crushing his head in with one swing of his mace. At that moment in time, the entire hall burst into chaos.
Kyrike began to run up the stairs, only to stop short when he saw an Imperial charging towards him. He stuck his katana out and let the Imperial impale himself before yanking the sword out of the man, who immediately collapsed onto the floor. "Dammit, Kyrike! Don't. Run. Don't draw attention to yourself." Mac growled in his ear. Kyrike nodded and sheathed his weapon, calmly walking through the battle.
This is suicide, this is suicide! Why would I listen to that crazy mercenary?! She's going to get me killed, and I'll be dead in the middle of a battle! Nothing more than a war casualty!
Kyrike found himself successfully at the end of the hall, past the tables and firepit and ongoing battle.
Damn everything. Why the hell did that work?
Kyrike shook the thoughts out of his head and vigilantly marched up the stairs. The doors to the Great Porch were left open just a bit, and Kyrike immediately knew that Dagny was waiting.
When he closed the doors behind him and turned to face Dagny, the murderous look on her face told him that she was waiting for him specifically.
"Kyrike Cairn-Spring." She spat, venom lacing her words. Her gown blew wildly in the raging wind. Kyrike gave a nod. "Jarl Dagny the Daring." "How did I know you would somehow survive the chaos out there?" She asked rhetorically. "Was it the look of determination in your eyes when we first met? Was it the persistence you showed me in our little chat? Or, perhaps, was it the blood on your weapon after you murdered Adrianne Avenicci?"
"For the last time, woman, it wasn't murder! She'd attacked us first!" Kyrike snarled, clenching his fists. "And rightly so. Had Adrianne survived, you would not be here to be discussing this with me." She replied, her cold glare doing nothing to extinguish the fires of anger in Kyrike's heart. "That's right, you cold-hearted, murdering bastard. If Adrianne had just taken care of you and your lizard friend when she had the chance, things would be alright. My city wouldn't be ablaze. My walls wouldn't be destroyed. Your god-damned catapults wouldn't be launching boulders thirty feet from where they should be directed." She insulted. "It's not my fault the catapults' rock trajectories are inaccurately measured. Besides, the catapults seem to be doing a fine job of destructing your poorly-maintained walls."
Two can play the verbal assault game.
"You're not getting in my head, Kyrike. You've come here to fight to the death. Our battle will end soon enough, and I assure you that it will not be me whose blood stains the Great Porch." Dagny unsheathed her weapon, and Kyrike mimicked her motions. Instead of charging at Kyrike, though, Dagny grasped her greatsword, holding it closer to her. Kyrike watched in confusion as she made a cut straight down the front of her gown. She pulled the halves of her dress off to reveal a set of expertly-tempered steel plate armor. The malicious, bloodthirsty smile she gave Kyrike let him know that she wasn't fooling around.
Kyrike summoned all his willpower. He let the memories of their arguments surge through his brain, anger bubbling up inside him. He gave a fierce cry as he lashed out at her, almost recklessly so. She parried his katana's swing with little effort. She matched his every move, their swords clashing together as she blocked each of his swings and uppercuts. When they had reached the end of the Great Porch, Dagny rolled her eyes and quickly swung her sword to her left, leaving Kyrike surprised.
"Argh!"
Kyrike's hand naturally went up to feel his face. He could feel warmth rising to his left cheek, unmistakably blood. Kyrike knew it wasn't a very big slice, but it certainly did hurt.
"That was a warning, you little-" Dagny yelled out, raising her right arm to look at the damage.
Kyrike's katana had sliced through the sleeve of her steel plate armor, leaving a five-inch gash in her arm.
"And that was a warning for you." Kyrike smugly replied, glaring daggers at Dagny, who returned his expression.
Kyrike saw something moving in the corner of his eye. He turned his head when Dagny did, for she had apparently noticed it as well.
One of the catapults was preparing to launch an enormous boulder at the wall. At the last second, the catapult's poor quality caused it to swivel, and the boulder was suddenly hurtling towards the Great Porch before long.
"Oh-" "-no." Dagny and Kyrike mumbled, finishing each other's sentences as the boulder rapidly approached.
CRA-CRAK!
The two of them flinched, their eyes snapped shut. They slowly opened their eyes, surprised when nothing happened, but their hearts sank when another low rumble was heard beneath their feet.
The end of the Great Porch was suddenly cracking. It rumbled and shook, and before long, collapsed.
Kyrike and Dagny both cried out in terror as they descended.
The world was spinning. Kyrike felt like every bone in his body had been broken, but once the shock passed, his cloudy vision began to return to normal. His body was slowly getting used to itself again, the pain slowly subsiding. The clouds of billowing smoke above him were beginning to look like all sorts of things.
Houses.
Trees.
Mammoths.
Dagny.
Kyrike's vision blurred again when he felt a kick to the side of the head. Coming to his senses, Kyrike rolled away from Dagny and found the base of a support column that had not yet collapsed. He leaned up against it and slowly eased back onto his feet. He suddenly noticed that he wasn't wielding his katana, and he whipped his head around frantically in search of it. Thankfully, it was merely behind one of the other support columns. Dagny charged at Kyrike, and he immediately took off running to retrieve his weapon. He quickly picked it up off the ground and grasped its hilt firmly in his hands. Dagny laughed, almost psychotically. "You really don't give up, do you? Now I see why you survived the battle; it's because you're a stubborn ass!" She snarled, gripping the hilt of her own greatsword like her life depended on it.
"I'm not a stubborn ass." Kyrike began. "I'm the stubborn ass. And I'm not going down without a fight." He replied, cracking his neck out of habit, just like his father.
What surprised Kyrike was that Dagny had thrown her weapon down. What surprised him even more was that she had charged towards him at the speed of light, prying the hilt of his katana out of his hands. Kyrike tugged back, not willing to let his beloved weapon go. The last thing he wanted was for Dagny to kill him with his own weapon.
Another shudder and rumble echoed in the small space below the Great Porch. Kyrike and Dagny were too busy fighting over the katana to worry about it. There weren't anymore boulders being hurled at the Great Porch, so the two had no reason to pay attention until Kyrike noticed what was causing the rumble. The column directly behind the two of them was on the verge of collapsing, and if they didn't move soon, they would instantly be crushed.
In the heat of the moment, Kyrike twisted the katana's blade so it wasn't in his way, and he headbutted Dagny with all his might. Dagny stumbled back and fell to the ground, clutching her head. Kyrike ignored the throbbing pains that rippled through his skull and ran, the column slowly descending.
KFFFF.
Kyrike panted, gasping to reclaim his breath as his adrenaline slowly died down. He didn't need to turn around to know that all that remained of Dagny was a crushed, broken body.
The young man lay down and observed the war-torn sky above him. The redness turned to orange as the sun set, the clouds of smoke lessening and lessening as the sounds of the battle died down.
The blood flowing from the cut on his cheek had stopped, but he could tell his face looked like a murder scene.
He didn't know it, but he had fallen asleep gazing up at the sky.
"NO! My...my boy! MY SON IS DEAD!"
Ysgrig sobbed, looking down at Kyrike's still body, blood covering his paled face. "What?! WHERE?!" Reea'th demanded, rushing over to Ysgrig's side as he peered over the edge of what remained of the Great Porch.
"Oh, Gods! He's dead!" Reea'th yelled, visibly distressed. All the memories of spending time with Kyrike as a baby, playing with him and training him as a child, and watching him grow into a fine young man had flooded through the minds of the grieving Ysgrig and Reea'th.
"Will you two shut up and help me? I'm not dead, I'm just exhausted! And I have one hell of a headache, so keep your damn voices down." Kyrike called up to the two, his eyes barely open.
Ysgrig and Reea'th had never been so happy to be told off by Kyrike in their lives.
Valie had found some rope in one of the supply closets in Dragonsreach, and it had been lowered down to Kyrike.
Before long, Kyrike had rejoined the group in Dragonsreach, celebrating their victory. Their spirits had been high, higher than they had been in a long time.
"Kyrike!" Kyrike turned around when he heard the familiar voice call his name, and had caught Mila in his arms immediately after. He chuckled and held her close to him before the two moved their heads back to look at each other. "Kyrike I...your face..." "Oh, come on, now. I can't be that unattractive." He joked, brushing a few strands of hair out of her face. Mila giggled and shook her head. "No, you aren't. You're very handsome, Kyrike. And I'm so glad you're safe."
The moment the words left Mila's mouth, the two locked eye contact and looked down at each other's lips before looking back into each other's eyes again. They filled the space between them by capturing each other's lips for a long, sweet kiss. Everyone in the room went silent and smiled, joyfully watching as the two reunited. Mac gave an indifferent look as she chugged down a bottle of mead. Kyrike and Mila broke the kiss a few moments later, joy filling their hearts.
Today was a good day indeed.