We live not for what we can achieve; but for the pride of surviving the journey towards our accomplishments

Chapter 44: Having The Strength To Lead

'Now that you have the Ghost Flame, destroying the Thieves of the Wood should be a lot less difficult.' Milkar walked beside me, the soft glow of the flora around us illuminated his face in episodes. 'I would have never imagined you've come this far in strength.'

'I stopped doing it for everyone else, and started doing it for myself,' I said. 'I've made too many mistakes and lost too many people. This time, I'm going to end it once and for all.'

Aranwen snapped his fingers. 'You're selling your achievements short, Leila. All that has led up to this is because of your determination. No one said it would be easy and we wouldn't lose friends along the way.'

I shook my head slowly, remembering the horrors that happened only three nights prior. I remembered the screams, the pleas for help, and the death at every corner. 'And Falinesti suffered in the crossfire.'

'We've poked and prodded at the Tam'Akar for so long, that we got what we were asking for.' Esmond said from behind. His voice reflecting a chastising tone. 'It's unusual for them to have attacked you so publicly, but in doing so has shown the people their true colors. The Tam'Akar thrives off their fraudulent duty to Valenwood, but no one knew what they were actually doing to set the stage for Thalmor rule.'

'My battle with Aridiil in the mountains tipped him over the edge. No longer seeing us as children playing with fire and seeing us irrefutable threats.' I turned to Elren. He'd yet to say anything since awakening despite trying to speak with him. He'd lost an entire arm at the shoulder. Something like that would send me into a world of depression. 'I think it was then he realized he'd been toying with us for too long. We sent him running with his tail between his legs.'

'Or at least very confused,' Aranwen chuckled. 'Aridiil is not the one to know defeat. He is undoubtedly one of the most powerful inquisitors in the whole damn Tam'Akar.'

We passed through the heart of Reaper's March near the city of Arenthia. The trail from Greenshade to the arid forests of the March was a long way—about a week's journey. Having my family back by my side left me dawdling in existential chaos. I didn't know—or remembered—how I was supposed to feel. For so long, I carried the hurt and sorrow of losing them in my heart that it became the ambition to keep pressing forward, but they were alive. The purpose I had to press the Thieves of the Wood had been subtracted from. Monsotar was the monster I imagined; I hated the Bosmer before I even met him on the field. I kept pressing the issue that the underground world of Valenwood needed a new bull in charge, and I chose Milkar to head that position. Despite Milkar and the others surviving, I still hated Monsotar for all that he has done; for Gleril, for Elren, for everything. My need to separate his head from his body burned hotter than my want to run far from this province and seclude ourselves from the problems of this world.

'In the end, he still held back. Even when he made it adamant he wanted to kill me.' The group fell silent, letting the sounds of the forest creep between our conversation. 'A lot has changed since you all disappeared. I have garnered all that I could against Monsotar. It's still easy to hold onto the hatred I have for him.' I turned to them.

'You've shouldered the issues that have been long-standing before you were born. All because you believe you're the one to change things.'

'Because I am!' My emotion flared which in turn caused Nocturnal's Talon to echo with power. In the craggy forest of Reaper's March, the dried trees began to crack and splinter around me, drawn in by the expansion of aura then subsequent vacuum left behind.

They felt it, I knew they did by the expressions of sullen fear on their faces. I held merely a fraction of Mother's power, and yet, I commanded the power of gods. They stared at me now with distinguished astonishment.

I clenched my jaw tightly and worked some ways ahead of them. It wasn't as if I didn't want to end Monsotar's reign and change the way things are done, I simply could not find the joy in having the people that put me on this path to have returned from what I thought was their death. There should be a celebration, but I didn't want to celebrate. I just wanted to get this all over with so that all who have died can rest in peace.

'We still have our reasons to want to see Monsotar's head roll from his shoulders,' Aranwen said trying to catch up with me. 'For Arian, Fatrigar, the tribes… Even if you quit now, Leila, we will still fight until we've won.'

'Let's not forget that if either the Tam'Akar or Monsotar get their hands on the Ghost Flame, all will be lost.' Milkar slipped past us and stepped out onto a small clearing. In the distance, Arenthia's wall stood tall against the rising sun. 'You're like me, Leila. We have the strength to lead Valenwood through this darkness, and even though our end goals might differ, as children of Ara High-Arrow, we have the duty to do so. That's why it's so innate within us. That's why we can't do anything else.'

Arenthia hadn't changed since the summit. The forest surrounding the city was sun washed and dry. Trees here grew more sporadic and craggy than in the wet jungles towards the south. Graht-Oaks were fewer and far between. But the skies were so clear and blue, you can see the pillars of Y'ffre clearly across the distant. The walls were dotted by hundreds of trees but none of them large enough to be considered Graht-Oak. They stood like guardians overlooking their domain, closing it off to the rest of the world.

The main road to the gates was shared by merchants and travelers alike. And the heavy presence of Ranger Guard made it obvious my army had gathered. Towards the outskirts of the city, the Ranger Guard's camp occupied the shade of a tree and could be seen from nearly a mile away. There were thousands of them, that much I could tell. Thousands all waiting on me. When we reached, I noticed the camp was surrounded by a massive rootwall with a single point of entry and heavily guarded with by feathers and shafts.

For those Bosmer that won their positions into the Ranger Guard using the Guardian Pathos of Fall Heir needed to be well versed in the Guard's ranking system and operations. For me, all my life I've been taught in preparation for just this job. Tutor Rollyn taught me that the Ranger Guard's ranks are similar to any other structure of war. You have the foot soldiers which were the feathers and shafts, then you have a single leader known as an arrow tip. With seven feathers and seven shafts, an arrow tip—or "tip" for short—leads an Arrow. Three Arrows is led by an officer rank known as a Hand, and that unit is known as a Quiver. A Bow is the highest rank under Watchmaster you can achieve. One Bow leads an Archery which consists of twenty Quivers. I skipped the whole lot and jumped right to Watchmaster. Such is the way of the Ranger Guard that ensures the strongest always lead.

My goal of becoming Watchmaster wasn't out of pride of being Bosmer, but to have an army at my back to route Monsotar and destroy him for good. The Ranger Guard is a fairly small army, while bandit clans, mercenaries, and criminal organizations range far more than us, we have the superior skill. We must win at all costs.

'This is a private military installation. What business do you have here?' One of the Shafts asked lowering his composite bow leveled with our bodies.

I withdrew the Watchmaster's shortsword from its sheath under my cloak and held it out for Ranger Guardian to see. He stumbled back slightly wearing a pain and confused expression upon his face. The others shared this same look. How odd I must've looked to them. A brigand wearing tattered black leathers and a long flowing cloak. The Silver Crescents at my back wearing similar armor and all armed to the teeth.

'I am Leila Lockharte. Watchmaster of the Ranger Guard.' Two of the Feathers began whispering amongst themselves.

'You!' a voice from the other side of the encampment's entrance said. 'It's you!'

'Bow Yesime. A pleasure as always.' I pushed the Shaft aside.

'It's not a pleasure!' There was a pained strain in his voice. 'You should be dead along with the other four hundred people that died in the breaking of Falinesti.'

A pang of guilt hit me like an arrow through the heart. 'Yesime…'

'Because of you, Syklen is dead. It's all your fault!'

'You cannot blame me when I was the one that was attacked.' I lowered my voice to a low growl, but I made a weak attempt at hiding the pain. 'Bow Syklendied a hero… and you are too.'

Bow Syklen was a good warrior. Maybe even great—an elite chosen to sit at the Watchmaster's side. The loss of him was a hard hit for this force. But in the end, we gained Milkar, Aranwen, and Esmond. Just one of the Silver Crescents was worth an entire Quiver, however, that fact does not subside the pain of loss. Death was a natural part of war, and yet the more bodies that piled up on my path, the more guilty I felt.

'I can't apologize enough, Bow Yesime. But what I can do is finish what I started.' I looked him in the eyes. This was the first time he truly listened. 'This is the true mission of the Ranger Guard, is it not? We must defend our home from our enemies foreign and domestic.'

'Is everything alright, Leila?'

Yesime took one look at Milkar and stiffened. 'Milkar Lockharte… you're here. Have you joined the Ranger Guard as well?'

'No.'

He turned to the rest of the party and recognized each of their faces. 'Why are they here? What is the meaning of this?'

I searched the camp, vying my eyes over every inch and corner. It was a large spectacle surrounded by rootwall. In the center, hundreds of Ranger Guard either tussled in the dirt or swung swords at each other. On the far side, rows upon rows of soft clay targets were peppered with arrows all of which were seemingly directed at six points of the body where it would either maim the victim or quickly kill them without suffering. This was a training ground of the elite Ranger Guard.

Many of the Guard at the entrance stopped what they were doing to stare at the Silver Crescents and me. I could feel their eyes and hear their whispers. The others didn't seem bothered by this, and I didn't exactly know why I thought they would. Instead of reveling in their strength, seeing as they survived half the year in Oblivion, I felt overwhelmingly protective of them. 'At least you did as I asked,' I said to Yesime whose face flashed a hot red.

The Bow's anger deepened but he dared not show it on the outside. All the young Feathers, Shafts, and Arrow Tips looked up to the apparatus of the Guard. Seeing as how they've trained with them since the age of six. Yesime respected that ranking system, even if he believed me an illegitimate commander.

'I could care less what you think you're entitled to,' he growled. 'The only reason why I will follow your orders is because of your father.'

'Have you forgotten the whole "christened by the Silvenar" thing, or are you telling me you care nothing for the traditions of the Ranger Guard?'

'Christened?' Aranwen asked with a chortle. 'Well, I'll be damned, Leila. You've surely come a long way.' He looked up at Milkar.

Milkar wore a look of concern. His eyes looked at me then at Yesime. 'It's surprising. How bad has it gotten since we disappeared?'

'We should talk.'

The Watchmaster's quarters was a grandiose looking snugpod in the small shade of the tree, just tucked underneath the base. Walking through the entrance, we came into the foyer. Separate halls stretched in twisted paths following the length of the snugpod, several rooms where a private war band would stay. Most likely for Bows like Yesime that were supposed to stay at the Watchmaster's side. Elren slowly limped into one of the hallways and disappeared behind one of the leaf veils into a room. I was in the right mind to follow him, however, I felt I needed to speak with my brothers before I could reconcile with the Royal tribesman. This war was for him mainly. For all of the Royal Tribes' salvation.

'Well I'm wiped,' Gwendalyn said with a wide-mouthed exclamation. 'It's funny to see how far you've come, but as the unofficial official fence of the Silver Crescents, I think I'll skip the war meetings.'

I raised an incredulous eyebrow. Gwendalyn has proven that she can defend herself in a fight and coupled with surviving the darkness of Oblivion, I was confident she would be valuable in the upcoming fight. 'Unofficial, official fence?' I asked.

Aranwen waved his hands. 'No worries. Gwenny is just our lost adopted child. When this is all done, we'll need to start acting as a real right guild.'

She too disappeared in one of the rooms. How tired this lot must be. Since summoned from another realm, they've seemed to appear paler than usual. Their skin plastered white, older and more tired than before I thought they were murdered.

I shrugged and started for the war room. The room was an angled corner with a widened entrance. Towards the center, an incredible looking table stationed itself with a pile of string tied scrolls laid upon it. Milkar, Esmond, Aranwen, and Yesime followed in.

'Esmond,' I turned to the Bosmer halfling.

'I know what you're going to say,' he said, raising his hand. 'and it is true, I was trained by your mother.' This didn't come at a surprise from Aranwen and Milkar. Which proved that they were hiding certain facts from me.

'I've also made allies of Sultel Worm-Flower.'

'So, that old coot still lives, eh?'

'I first met him during my escape from Arenthia when we came to meet Torgoth.'

Esmond crossed his arms. 'What is it that you want to know?'

The question had been lingering on my tongue since the truth of my mother was revealed to me. 'What was my mother preparing for? Tell me why was it up to Monsotar to create this…mess we're in now.'

Milkar turned to his mentor, and they met eyes for a brief moment. Esmond sighed and shook his head. 'We can longer hide the truth, Milkar.'

Milkar grunted and trailed off to an empty seat.

'Ara wanted a way to protect Valenwood. She couldn't trust the Treethanes, nor the Thalmor. Not even your father who led the Ranger Guard as Battlereeve.'

'The only way was to create a band of rogues.'

'She was successful, for a time, and she gave us the reigns when Milkar was born.'

'Did she abandon you?' I asked.

Esmond nodded. 'At the time, that's how it felt. It broke all four of us to see her walk away to continue a life of her own. We knew that she was already living a double life, being the hero of Valenwood and the wife of Faeden Lockharte.' His lips folded into a careworn frown. 'However, Monsotar decided that he would continue her legacy the way he wanted. I stood on the sidelines, even done somethings that I'm ashamed of and watched a monster hatch from my close friend.'

'And the Ghost Flame? What became of it? Why is it so sought after?'

'You know this story already, Leila.' There was a tinge of irritation in his voice, and I looked him down. 'The Ghost Flame is—'

'None of what you've told me has aligned with anything that Aridiil or Monsotar has revealed.' I sighed and found a seat of my own. 'I just want to know.'

'Uh—perhaps I should've left with Gwenny and Elren.' Aranwen backed away.

'You stay!' I jabbed a finger in his direction. 'You were in on it as well.'

'But—'

Milkar patted the air with his hand. Aranwen submitted and slumped his shoulders. I grunted and stood back up. Everything must come to light if I was to complete my goal of a revolution. I will end Monsotar and route the Thieves of the Wood. But I will not replace a mastermind with another, even if he is my brother. Milkar stared intently.

Esmond lowered his brows. 'The Ghost Flame was just the first sign that the prophecy is near.'

'The Culling?'

Esmond nodded. 'The Culling. A prophecy among the Altmer echelons, and the second Oblivion Crisis.'

An eerie silence cut into the room. Everyone didn't have the nerve to make eye contact with each other. I used Nocturnal's Talon's Ghost Flame enchantment to open a portal in Oblivion. It so happens that Mother's extraordinary use of the power was doused in irony that, although she used it against the forces of Oblivion, it can be used to bring them back. And not just from the Deadlands, but from every plane with a sitting Daedric Prince.

'What was our goal for the Silver Crescents?' I asked Milkar. 'Was it to combat the prophecy, or were we working for the people?'

'Both.'

'Why didn't you tell me any of this?'

'Because I wanted to protect you!'

'Protect me?' My heart raced. My jaw clenched, and heat boiled in my gut. Nocturnal's Talon reacted to the flush of anger rising in the pit of my soul. The Ghost Flame filtered out slowly from its blade, flaring around me like a protective shell of violet fires. I could feel its call; it's power overwhelming but calm at the same moment. It reacts to me; to my emotions and thoughts. 'Where were you to protect me then, Milkar?' Spines of flame spiked from the sword hanging on my back. 'Where were you when he fucked me for an entire moon cycle? He made me his sword. I killed for him. I bled for the Bosmer that killed my brothers!'

'It's Elren, Leila.'

The flame went out as fast as they came.

'Elren?'

Milkar stood with a challenging stare. 'The Royal Tribe known as the Red Moss. Srekanb Terces. Their ability, Leila, is to hold the memories, secrets, or anything they choose indefinitely in their minds. Mother entrusted them with the whereabouts of her power.'

'Aridiil eradicated them because of their ability?'

Milkar pursed his lips.

'And you saved Elren…because he holds her secret.' I inhaled harshly.

My brother said nothing.

'Does he know?' I asked.

I sighed and spun for the leaf-veil.

'He knows, and so does Rindiel,' Esmond answered before I exited. 'Rindiel is a Silver Crescent. We paid him to help Monsotar and Aridiil kill the Red Moss.'

My body grew rigid. 'That I already figured out.'

'It was the only way to keep Ara's power a secret. You only hold but a sliver of what she wielded. Confined to that sword, and yet it can level Monsotar.'

'You must realize that if the Tam'Akar gets their hands on Elren, they could bring forth an army of Daedra far more powerful than what the Mystic Dawn brought.'

I opened the leaf-veil. 'I'm going to go win a war now,' I said. 'And when it is done, I will be the one to burden with these truths. You will play one role and one role only: You will gain a tight grip on the politics and law enforcement of Valenwood, and that's it.'

'You can't make this your own fight, Leila.'

'Watch me.' I said, leaving the room.

'Long time no see.'

The voice brought a brilliant smile to my face. I turned to see the Leucrota along with Sultel standing behind me as I watched the Ranger Guard work their magnificent wonder.

'It has only been a fortnight and here you are weeping over the long, cold nights without your raven.' I returned Larethia's smile.

'We thought you dead,' Sultel said, raising an eyebrow. 'I saw the horror in your eyes when you fell with the branch.'

I closed my eyes trying to shut away from the memories of that tragedy. 'Well, I'm alive. And with good news.'

'Your brother lives!' Orc exclaimed. 'We saw you all come through the entrance, however, I couldn't help but see a certain Crow alongside you.'

'If you're talking about Esmond, then yes, he was with me. But he's no longer a crow, hasn't been one for quite some time.' I turned to them. 'What have you all been doing since I last saw you?'

Grim grunted. 'Spying on the little army you've got here. The going rumor is that the Tam'Akar were after you when they broke Falinesti. They're going to refuse to follow you.'

I sighed and looked out over the span of the training field. 'I knew this would happen.'

'Well, in good Black Raven fashion, you need to show them they need to respect you, just how you did when you joined the Leucrota.' Larethia wore a sinister little smile.

'I can't just unmercifully kill one of them, you know.'

'But you can win their respect. The Ranger Guard are known for their challenges within the ranks.' Sultel explained. He pointed towards a group Bows gathered near a supporting line of roots.

A frown tugged at my lips as I considered the proposition. I slipped the Iron-Bark shortsword from its scabbard and strode toward the center of the camp. Few of the Ranger Guard peered out at me curiously. They seemed amused as if I was some joke to be made fun of in the confines of the lower ranks. In some ways, the Ranger Guard was a contradiction. They valued those to be the strongest in leadership positions, however, the Pathos of Fall Heir made it so that those trained outside of the Guard can challenge in. Those were called Serpers, and it rarely occurred. The individual Guardians only respected those who've trained with them from the age of six and pried their own leviathan bone from the massive creatures and graduated into their ranks by the age of thirteen.

To them, I was a Serper of the highest sin. I took the Watchmaster's rank rather than earned it. A vagabond girl, who probably was only given the challenge for being the daughter of the Battlereeve. I was going to prove my strength.

I raised the sword high. Being that they were Bows and probably shared the younger, lower ranks' plight about following my orders, they grudgingly began to gather their archeries into formation.

Without the usual haste and urgency they would have for Erandil, they dragged themselves into an inverted wedge formation known as the Camoran Bow. Each Archery took the shape of a triangular angle with defense lines to the front, holding diamond-shaped shields. Archers with composite bows took center while blades men took the rear.

The Bows took place at the front of their respective Archeries. They all stood to wait for my orders.

'I hear some of you don't think I'm capable of leading as your Watchmaster.' Murmurs went up at that. Even if I said the statement, talking while in formation was against the rules in the Ranger Guard. I raised an eyebrow. I pointed with the Watchmaster's sword to one of the leading Bows. 'You! Should I know why your Archery believe it okay to speak in formation?'

The Bow rolled his eyes. 'They do not see you as one of them,' he said ever-so bravely. 'You're a wanted criminal that stole the rank from Erandil.'

I narrowed my eyes. 'And do you know what it takes to become the Watchmaster?'

'When one dies, another is voted in by the Battlereeve and his council. But there's the Pathos of Fall Heir. Any challenger with a reputable name around Valenwood can challenge the position, but they must be put to a vote before the duel can be initiated.' He answered truthfully and honestly.

'Exactly. In that case—'

'We know that Erandil wasn't the strongest Watchmaster we've ever had,' a gangly Bow interjected. 'But the only reason you got the vote was that you're the daughter of the Battlereeve, or else a criminal scum like you would never find herself in the office.'

'You know… we can probably take them all on if you're willing to allow us.' Larethia whispered in my ear. I stayed her with a hand.

'Is it my legitimacy or my strength you question?'

'Both.' The entirety of the Ranger Guard nodded in agreement.

'Who here is more legit than I?'

The Bow closest to me spoke up in a conniving, devilish tone. 'Everyone here.'

'We want to follow! We just want a truly strong leader.' A ranger Guardian spoke from the ranks.

'I don't care whether you think I'm a legit Watchmaster or not. I'm here for one goal and one goal only. To stop the Bosmer that you all were too weak to stop before. None of you are strong enough; none of you have shown courage.'

This angered many of the Bows; they withdrew their swords in a challenge to my words. According to Rollyn, things like this happened all the time. They got testy, and they felt the need to be put back in their place. So be it. I wasn't scared to fight the best of the best, because I knew that this was the path I must follow. This was the only way.

'That's suicide!' Orc said running out of the way. Grim and Larethia shared the sentiment. Only Sultel stood in my midst.

I looked at him, but he just chuckled. 'Do you expect me to move? I did train with Monsotar too, you know?'

'All of you at once!' I roared.

And they came. The first three Bows in the front reached me first. They were grins of mischief on their faces. Taking down the Watchmaster must have been a Bow's dream. I twirled around a fast lunge and rolled off the attacker's back straight into a swift kick at another Guard's face. He staggered back giving me a brief moment to lock onto the first Bow's arm. I knocked his sword from his grip and pushed him away. The third came at me swinging, I parried him and ducked into his defense, punching my shoulder into his gut. As the others trickled in, I managed a dozen blocks and parries before I slipped into the offensive and left two with gashes across their arms. I wasn't trying to hurt them badly. I still needed them, however, drawing blood was the only way I could get my message across.

They didn't come separately either. These Bosmer fought alongside each other most of their lives. They knew teamwork, which was the fundamental problem with the Guardian Pathos of Fall Heir. How can you exchange the bonds you make with your fellow guardians?

Two came at me at once, their swords crossed over each other leaving razor-sharp edges leading in a single dead endpoint. I jumped out their way at the last second, dropping my blade low and cutting through one of their sides. The waist of his breeches split and the shredded bottoms fell to his ankles. He tripped with force and tumbled into his partner. I was already exchanging sequences on three more Bows; one of them was one of the first two. I flipped onto his shoulders, my legs wrapping around his neck. I twirled my body around the circumference of his neck and stopped when my knee reached his throat. I dropped all of my weight on him and we both slammed to the ground. Only he couldn't recover as he squirmed like a helpless worm in the baking sun, holding his throat and choking.

When fighting multiple opponents at once, you need to learn a little bit about precognition. Recognizing muscle movements and the outcome of each step, fling of the arm, glance of the eye, or lanes of a counter to predict their next move. You do this on a one-on-one and even more so for one-on-many. The timing was everything. Parry one Bow; push him back, block and feign another; the first one you parried has already returned.

In the end, it was too tiring, and they were too good. It didn't matter whose tutelage I trained under. The Ranger Guard was an elite force, and these Bosmer were their best. A heavy foot slammed into my chest and another careened into the back of my knee. I fell into the dirt, heaving. I closed my eyes as one Bow ran at me with full force. But nothing happened. I opened my eyes to see a single hand stretched out to me. I took it. I hadn't realized that the entire force surrounded the fight. And they were all cheering. Whistles and claps exploded from the crowd.

Lockharte! Lockharte! Lockharte! They chanted over and over.

I may not have won the battle against their commanders, but I did win their respect. I stood to my feet and felt multiple pats on my back.

'That looked easy,' Sultel said. He clapped.

'It wasn't,' I said breathlessly.

I saw Milkar and the others clapping with faint smiles tugging at their lips.

I raised the Watchmaster's shortsword, and they all dropped into a silent bout. 'Eat your dinner, and eat it knowing that tomorrow we march. The Bosmer that have sucked this wonderful province dry of its integrity will fall to us! Monsotar Handseed will know my revolution!'