15: The Marshal of the Pact

They found Annhilda leading, with Gixx, a spirited defense of the Priory's halls. Shocking as it was to see it overrun with undead, to see robed bodies lying bloody and lifeless in the central corridor, to see the wreckage of a large megalaser that had exploded, the defenders were holding their own. With Caoilfhionn and Trahearne plunging into the fray at the enemy's back, Caladbolg singing its blazing light into their midst, and Caoilfhionn darting forward on trails of fire, the tide turned for good, and soon they cleared the horde that threatened the Priory.

"Thank the Pale Tree we arrived in time to help!" Trahearne said, when they gathered in the central chamber afterwards.

"The Mother Tree is very wise," Caoilfhionn explained. "She sensed the peril here and directed us to come. If the Priory had fallen, we'd never be able to defend Lion's Arch."

"Huh," Wegaff said. "She can sense that far, hmm? Interesting. I wonder what mechanism that takes… Also, I'm really glad you made it back! Especially after…"

"I know," Caoilfhionn said. "Sieran was so brave. I miss her."

"As do I. But it's a good thing I made it back early from my mission," Annhilda said. "That odd duo will work with us, and their weapon, too."

"What odd duo?" Trahearne asked.

"Barron and Fero," said Gixx. "The researchers. You remember them, yes?"

"Yes, I've known them for years," Trahearne said. "They know what they're doing. I think."

Annhilda laughed heartily. "Can you understand them? They speak even more in riddles than Sigrytha."

"Eh… no… not entirely." Trahearne rubbed the back of his neck, embarrassed. "But their work speaks for them."

"But we can't defend Lion's Arch with the Priory alone," Annhilda said. "And we definitely can't fight Zhaitan like this. We may have the knowledge, but we lack both an army and the resources."

"We can't have that kind of peace-loving, low-down poltroon talk!" Gixx exploded. "Did the Risen strike you on the head? We cannot give up the struggle!"

"Annhilda suggested no such thing," Caoilfhionn said. "Trahearne, do you remember what the Pale Tree said? 'With unity, many impossible things can be achieved'. Steward, the other Orders of Tyria share our concerns about the dragons. The Priory should contact them and divulge information on Orr."

Wynnet Fairhaired frowned and crossed her arms. "Terrible idea. The Orders of Whispers are underhanded backstabbers, and those brainless warmongers in the Vigil are even worse."

"Not so, Wynnet," Trahearne said. "They simply have their own ways of fighting Zhaitan. Both would be staunch allies in this war. For a war it is, whether or not we acknowledge it to be so."

Gixx sighed grumpily. "Perhaps you're right. The fact that Zhaitan could strike at the Priory's heart shakes me to the core. I trust you, Trahearne, and you too, Magister Caoilfhionn and Magister Annhilda. Fine! Go to the other orders. Set up a meeting. Tell them that the Durmand Priory respectfully wishes to negotiate terms of accord."

"Thank you, Steward," Trahearne said, bowing. "I'll do everything I can."

"And I," Caoilfhionn said. "Annhilda, would you like to go to the Order of Whispers, or shall I?"

They met in Lion's Arch, at the southern fort near to the docks to Claw Island. Caoilfhionn was glad he'd had Phiadi's help to wrangle Preceptor Halvora into agreeing to come; her intensity was halved when confronted with both of them together. He soon found that Annhilda had been successful, with Damara and Rhyoll to help her; and he also learned that Zhaitan had attacked both the other Orders simultaneously to the Priory. Disconcerting.

The meeting did not get off to a good start. Hope's Legacy's members escorted their various leaders together and then stepped aside to chat amongst themselves, but were soon recalled by loud arguing sounds.

Trahearne marched in with a Lionguard officer beside him, looked around at all of them, and lifted his voice. "Enough bickering, all of you! Our real enemy lurks across the waves. Zhaitan's servants march at the gates of Lion's Arch. We must band together, or we will all be destroyed."

Caoilfhionn stared with admiration. There was something… different about him today. He seemed… taller, more confident, Caladbolg resting easily at his back. But he shook himself out of his reverie – he needed to help. "When I joined the Priory, I swore to fight Zhaitan." Actually, he'd sworn it when he Awoke, but that had no relevance to anyone but himself. "I will die for Tyria, if I must. But I believe that together we can win."

"Caoilfhionn's right," Damara said. "The Vigil has shown tremendous courage in the fight against the dragons. This alliance will require all of that courage just the same. Why should we back down now?"

"The Order of Whispers has seen nations rise and fall," Phiadi said, shaking her finger at Halvora. "I've calculated that we cannot hide from this threat. We need to make a stand."

"And who knows more about the dragons than the Priory?" asked Annhilda. "Just think of how much more there is to learn in Orr."

The leaders hesitated. "There must be a decent hierarchy," growled Almorra Soulkeeper. "Who's going to lead this compact?"

"Logic dictates that it cannot be a member of any of our orders, lest one be seen as above the other two," said Gixx. "Quite a conundrum!"

"So it can't be anyone from Hope's Legacy, though they've moved mountains to bring us together," Halvora said thoughtfully.

"Oh," Phiadi said, sarcastically dramatic, "if only there were some brave soul who has always stood apart from the Orders, someone whom everyone trusts and yet cannot possibly be biased – probably!"

Caoilfhionn looked at Trahearne – Gixx had said he trusted him, hadn't he? And now everyone was looking at Trahearne, who looked back, impassive, noncommittal.

"Please," Caoilfhionn said gently, "won't you lead us, Trahearne? I believe in you."

Trahearne drew and let out a long breath. "I… I never wanted to be a soldier. I'm only a seeker of truth. But… yes." His eyes flashed with determination. "I will lead this pact to the gates of Arah, and together, we will see Zhaitan destroyed."

"It's settled then," Almorra said. "The Vigil will follow Trahearne. Marshal Trahearne!"

"Aye," Halvora said. "The Order of Whispers can accept this. Steward Gixx?"

"Naturally," Gixx snapped. "What are we waiting for?"

Trahearne nodded. "First, to Claw Island. Let us send our defiant message straight into the heart of Orr: Tyria stands as one!" The three Order leaders saluted him, and he nodded gravely. "To begin with, we need ships. This is Lionguard Apatia, and she is our liaison with the Lionguard forces that will be accompanying us. I have already spoken with Commodore Marriner, and all the ships we need should be ready within two hours. That gives us two hours to refine our plan of attack. I will see you all in the war room in five minutes."

The room erupted into a flurry of activity. Caoilfhionn clapped softly to himself. Trahearne had always had a quiet, intelligent confidence; not necessarily commanding, but he had his pride, and when he spoke, people listened. Whether it was Caladbolg's influence, or his own acceptance of his destiny, his aura was bright now – that star in the night the Pale Tree had spoken of. "…Trahearne!"

"How are you?" Trahearne made his way over to him. "As you heard, I only have a minute. Leading this conjoined force will be a difficult task, I think."

"I'm well," Caoilfhionn said, flustered. "You can do it. I'll be right beside you."

"I'd have you nowhere else," Trahearne said, even if he said it a little bit absently. He sighed. "All my life, I've watched Orr. Studied it. Researched the abominations that Zhaitan spawns. But… I avoided the challenge of my Wyld Hunt. I hid, always claiming I was not yet ready. I did not think Orr could be cleansed. I did not fear death. I feared failure. But… it is time to act. In the end, it is better to fight and lose than never to fight at all."

"I believe that too," Caoilfhionn said earnestly. "Though… I fear I believe it because I am still very young and romantic." The way Trahearne said it implied he'd come to it from another path.

Trahearne chuckled. "Indeed. Well. I must help them hash out our plan of attack. I can't imagine you'll find it interesting."

"I'll be right there, after I've said hello to Carys and Tegwen," Caoilfhionn said – had he not just said he'd be at his side the whole way? Trahearne nodded and turned to go- "Trahearne!" And as Trahearne stopped, he became flustered again. "Er… ah… You look good. With Caladbolg, I mean."

"Thank you," Trahearne said, with a funny little smile.

The war meeting was thrilling to be on the edges of – so many experts in one place, the best of the best of Tyria, all convening! But even more thrilling, and a lot more sobering, was the actual assault. The bone ships only patroled the southern sides of the island, so the docks, tucked away on the north, were still free… though covered with zombies. Hope's Legacy led the charge to clear them, and then led the charge to the lighthouse to hook up the weapon that would blow open the gate to let them in. The undead howled, staggering towards them with uncanny speed, and Caoilfhionn set a ring of fire in their way, torching many of them before they even hit the front line of Vigil soldiers.

Despite complications, they made it to the lighthouse on schedule, and cheered as the gate was blown to smithereens, allowing the rest of the forces to invade the fortress. He could see Trahearne from this distance by the light of Caladbolg, shining across the battlefield, and cheered him on softly. He was leading soldiers and everything!

But then as he came down from the lighthouse, the shadow of the dragon passed over them briefly and his cheer fled again. Sieran's body would not rise again, such was a blessing granted to the Sylvari, but would he see other bodies he knew arrayed against them? Tybalt, Forgal, Talon?

He'd never know, as the soldiers streamed in, fighting hard against the undead defenders. The flash of Professor Gorr's experimental rifles flickered across the stones, in the hands of several Human mercenaries; Norn mercenaries fought beside them, fewer but louder. Trahearne and a small company were waiting for the lighthouse team at the gate; the rest had spread out to capture the walls. "Well done, everyone. Now we must secure the bridge overlooking the courtyard. From there, I'll be able to command."

"I'll get you there," Caoilfhionn said, and corrected himself. "We'll get you there."

There was no time to think, in the thick of things, only to cast, as hard and fast as possible, blasting the undead out of their way. Annhilda was charging with her sword and shield, blinking ahead, cleaving the enemy in two. Rhyoll was nearly an entire mechanical army unto himself, between his turrets, his flamethrower, and his Charrzooka – though he was saving that last for the dragon. Damara's bear roared as it struck down the enemy, backed up by rapid arrows from its mistress, and Phiadi's minions swarmed over the undead, tearing them to pieces as she cursed them with magic. Hope's Legacy was unstoppable!

They reached the top of the bridge, Trahearne and his guard just behind, and the Firstborn hopped up lightly to the edge of the parapet. "Excellent. We'll hold this point. I need Hope's Legacy to help clear the courtyard to prepare for our final assault on that dragon."

"Got it," Annhilda said, and led them back down the other side of the bridge. Caoilfhionn waved before he ran to join her.

The dragon had been flying about the island, in circles, stooping to breathe foul poison across the courtyard, but now as they slew the last undead within the fortress, it came to land. The ground shook as it landed on the southern plateau, and his ears hurt as it roared, deafening, filling all the world with its rage.

"Fire!" cried Trahearne, his voice magically amplified so all the island could hear it, and the cannons boomed out, the Priory-researched Psi-lance and the Charr-made Ghostbore cannon among them, tearing the dragon's wings apart with their specially-modified ammunition. The dragon screamed and staggered, flapped its wings once uselessly, reflexively, to try and get away, then screamed again – and spat poison at the walls. Engineers dove for cover as a number of cannons melted.

"Forward!" called Trahearne, and Caoilfhionn dashed for the gap in the wall with the rest of Hope's Legacy, with the rest of the army. "Be wary, it's calling for the dead to rise!"

They formed up around Rhyoll, protecting him from waves of grubs as he raised his Charrzooka – but the missile sputtered out halfway to its target, falling to the sandy grass and lying inert. Rhyoll turned to gesture towards Trahearne's post, a big negative gesture with his arms over his head. "I've got another one! Give me a minute to get it ready!"

Even if Trahearne couldn't hear his shout, he could read the gestures. "Protect Rhyoll! Keep it busy! Don't get surrounded!"

Caoilfhionn sprinted forwards. He could play bait, and he could play it well. The dragon was so huge, now that he was up among its talons, bigger than the one he'd fought in his Dream. A single blow from its foot would have crushed him like a worm, and its jaws contained teeth as long as his arm, and that was to say nothing of its deadly breath. And it stank like a whole charnel house – not that he'd been inside many charnel houses – dripping with seawater and pus. But Trahearne's voice carried over the crashing melee, over the shouts and screams and the ringing of steel and the thunder of spells, the hiss of arrows and the crack of rifles, the thud of the dragon's feet, the howl of its breath. And to hear that voice, unwavering, certain, telling him just what Trahearne saw from his vantage point, buoyed him up on a wave of determination.

Determination and vengeance – it was this dragon that had taken Sieran from them, and he filled it with all the fire in his slender body, channeling all his power through both his daggers into the dragon's rotting flesh as it loomed above them. He tried to defend his allies, too, breaking stone across the grubs and rotmouths that tried to flank them, blowing cool healing water across his companions, even helping Annhilda up after she'd been knocked back by a blow from the dragon's fist.

By Ventari's tablet, it was no easy enemy to come to grips with! It screamed and he nearly fell to the ground with the horror of its piercing, deafening wail, heard Carys whimper when he could hear again. Now it was Damara helping him up, the warmth of her firm handgrip grounding him. His breath rasped in his lungs as he ducked away from another flying grub; his legs burned with exertion but he would not stop now. He was close to the dragon's left foreclaw, and raked it with fire, trying to cripple it further. It did not seem to feel pain, ignoring him to lower its head to breathe across a clump of Vigil archers, who began to scatter haphazardly.

"Keep it steady!" Rhyoll yelled. "I'm ready now! I can finish this!"

Caoilfhionn did not have a staff, which would have helped more, but he switched to Water anyway, channeling ice into the dragon's foreclaw – if he could hold it down…

An explosion went off near him, and a Charrzooka missile whooshed past, and into the dragon's face. For an instant, all Caoilfhionn could see was fire, blossoming about the dragon's head like a cloud of scarlet hydrangeas – and then he realized, that was all there was to see. The bony jaw fell with a massive thud to the ground, and the rest of the dragon slowly leaned and slid over, headless.

Annhilda whooped next to him, followed by Rhyoll himself, and in a moment the whole army was cheering with delight and victory. Trahearne's voice washed over them, ecstatic, proud. "We did it! We recaptured Claw Island, and in so doing, saved Lion's Arch. Well done, everyone! Secure the island and take an assessment of the damage. Commanders, to me when you're ready."

Caoilfhionn was not a commander, but Hope's Legacy was definitely expected to report back to him, or so he reasoned, because he really wanted to see him as soon as possible, not count destroyed cannons. Of course, he'd wait until the actual leaders were finished…

"You realize this 'pact' only has a one in three thousand seven hundred and twenty chance of succeeding?" he overheard a Priory Historian asking on his way to the wall.

"If that 'one' is Trahearne, I'll take those odds," Wegaff said, and Caoilfhionn glowed at his friend's support.

He didn't have to wait long; it seemed they all had a good idea what to do next, and Wynnet, Doern, and Efut all dispersed shortly. Caoilfhionn stepped forward, smiling fit to burst, and as Trahearne saw them, he smiled too – one of the widest smiles Caoilfhionn had ever seen on him. "Thank you, my friends. Fantastic shot, Rhyoll."

"Thanks!" Rhyoll said, tail wagging with glee. "Just glad I could get the Bonebuster missile working. Was working on it since we last saw that rotting bugger."

"We're very fortunate that you did," Trahearne said. "We've accomplished something amazing today."

"We couldn't have done it without you, either," Caoilfhionn said.

"Hear, hear," Annhilda said. "Good call-outs, Trahearne."

Trahearne nodded. "Thank you. I do not know what lies ahead of us, but for the first time, I have hope. Hope that this alliance can save Tyria from the dragons. Hope for the future." He turned to look south. "Hope… for Orr."

"This was a momentous day," Annhilda said. "The tide of history has changed, Trahearne."

"Indeed," Trahearne said, a new light in his eyes that Caoilfhionn had never seen before. "Many people doubted. Even the Orders weren't truly certain it could be done. Never before has Tyria been so united. Let Orr hear the echo of this battle! We can defeat the dragons. We will!" He turned back to them, his confidence fair streaming from him. "Though without the five of you, without Hope's Legacy, we would not have prevailed. I daresay you are the most bold and effective guild since Destiny's Edge themselves. Thank you for being here."

"You couldn't leave us behind," Damara said, laughing. "We wouldn't stand for that. But I bet when you go for Orr, many more guilds will join up too."

"But we were here first," Phiadi said smugly. "And so, we are, quite simply, the best."

Rhyoll laughed. "We'd be the best even if we were late to the party, don't even worry about it."

Trahearne nodded, smiling. "Now, go get some rest. I will have much work for you later – if you're willing."

"Absolutely, we're willing," Annhilda said. "You just let us know what you want done."

"Then rest," Trahearne told them. "I see that look in your eyes – you want to help. But you fought the hardest this day – I know it! I myself put you in the thickest of the fighting, and now you must recover. I will need you at your best in the fight to come, too. Go on."

"Don't forget to rest, yourself," Caoilfhionn said, stepping even further forward. "I know you worked just as hard as we did, commanding the battle, even if you didn't run about on the ground with us. And you must take care of yourself… Marshal." He said the title half-teasingly, half to rub in that if Trahearne began his leadership by running himself into the ground, he wouldn't be good for anything.

Trahearne chuckled. "I promise. Go on, Caoilfhionn."

"I'm holding you to that!"

"Caoilfhionn!"

"I'm going!"