A/N: Don't know if you've checked out some of my other stories to see what's been going on with me lately, but to make a long story very short, I'm in the mood to kill something. A lot of somethings, actually, hence this chapter.
Heaven or hell? Let's rock!
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You spooky witch, you killed him!
He's going to be fine, Nora. Look, he's coming to now.
Jaune groaned as he slowly regained consciousness. His vision swam for a moment, so he blinked to bring the image into focus. The two Grey Wardens, Duncan and Alistair, peered down at him from where he lay on the stone floor. Jaune groaned again, and tried to close his eyes, before becoming aware of just the most horrifying aftertaste of his entire life.
"Ugh!" he coughed and leaned over to one side to spit, trying to rid himself of the foul taste in his mouth.
Alistair kneeled next to him, giving a little laugh as he offered up a wineskin. "Yeah, nothing tastes quite so bad as literal distilled death, huh?" The red was a bit sour, but Jaune didn't care, rinsing and spitting and then taking a hearty swig from the skin.
"What… what the hell?!" Jaune shook his head before accepting Alistair's offered hand. The ex-Templar hauled Jaune to his feet and slapped his shoulder in solidarity.
"It's rough, isn't it. Well, I'm glad at least two of you survived."
"Alanna!"
With wobbly legs, Jaune ran over to where the elven mage was being helped to her feet by Duncan. The senior Warden acknowledged Jaune with a nod.
"How do the both of you feel?" he asked, in his serene tone.
Alanna ran a shaky hand through her hair. "I… it's a shock. Not even the Harrowing hit like that."
"Such is what it takes to become a Grey Warden," he answered. Jaune shook his head once more, pointing to the Warden Commander.
"I can't believe you killed Ser Jory!"
Duncan sighed. "It gave me no pleasure to end his life, but the secrecy of the Joining must be maintained. When he went for his blade, he left me no other choice. If it is any consolation, word will be sent to Highever, where he will be remembered as having fallen as a Warden, not cut down as an attempted deserter. We can at least grant him that dignity in death."
Jaune slowly lowered his accusing finger. Though the line between a Huntsman and a soldier had been perilously thin in Atlas, Jaune had never considered himself to be military. Even so, he knew that desertion, in any military, held severe consequences. It left a taste in his mouth nearly as bad as the Darkspawn blood, but that was simply the way things went down in Ferelden, apparently. Besides, it's not as if it would bring Jory back to hold a grudge against the older Grey Warden.
"And Daveth died too…" Alanna remarked, obviously saddened.
"At my Joining, only one of us died," said Alistair. "But it was… horrible. I'm glad that you two pulled through, at least."
"Take some time," Duncan told the two newest Grey Wardens. "When you're ready, there is a meeting with the King that I would like you two to attend."
"Oh!" Alistair took out a pair of teardrop-shaped glass amulets, presenting them to the pair. "At each Joining, we take a drop of blood and put it into an amulet. Something to remember those of us who never made it this far."
As Jaune and Alanna accepted their amulets, Duncan nodded. "Come find me at the war table when you're ready." With that, he and Alistair took their leave of the pair.
Jaune turned around to regard the large pyre that the other Wardens had set alight while he was out. His elven companion turned. "What is… oh." she said sadly, as she realized what it was.
The bodies of Jory and Daveth burned together. The pair of living Wardens stood silently together.
"In death, sacrifice," Alanna sad. "I guess we need to go now."
"Yeah. World's not going to save itself."
"Jaune?"
"Yeah?"
"I'm glad you made it."
Aw, that's nice, Ruby added.
He simply nodded, and the two of them left the ruined temple behind.
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"I must repeat my protest to your fool notion that we need the Orlesians to defend ourselves!"
As the two newest Grey Wardens approached the war table, the second highest-ranking noble in the land, Teryn Loghain, was in a furious argument with his sovereign. The Teryn was pale of skin and dark of hair, bearing a severe appearance, his face gaunt and drawn, his skin pallid. Despite the fact that he had crested middle age and was rapidly approaching old age, he bore a suit of heavy plate armor without any apparent hindrance.
"It is not a fool notion!" King Cailan's brow furrowed as he lost his patience. "Our arguments with the Orlesians are a thing of the past. And you will remember who is king."
Loghain pinched the bridge of his nose. "How fortunate we are that Maric did not live to see his son ready to hand Ferelden over to those who had enslaved us for a century."
"Then our current forces will have to suffice, won't they?" The King turned to Duncan, who was now flanked by Alanna and Jaune. "Are your forces ready to fight, Duncan?"
"They are, Your Majesty," Duncan confirmed with a bow.
"Ah, and these are the two recruits I met at the gate earlier? I understand congratulations are in order."
"Thank you, Your Majesty," Alanna gave a curtsey, looking slightly out-of-place on a field of war.
Jaune scratched the back of his head for a second before a sheer impulse from Weiss over the link had him copy his fellow Wardens. "I am ready to serve, King Cailan," he said.
"Every Grey Warden is needed, now more than ever."
Loghain turned to regard his king once more. "Your fascination with legend and glory will be your undoing, Cailan. We must attend to reality."
Cailan just sighed. "Fine. Speak your strategy."
The two men leaned over a map of Ostagar that had been pinned to the table. "My forces will draw out the Darkspawn, here," he pointed on the map. "And then?"
"You will alert the tower to light the beacon," Loghain supplied. Signalling my men to flank from co-"
"To flank the Darkspawn, I remember," interrupted the king. "This is the Tower of Ishal in the ruins, yes? Then who shall light this beacon?"
"I have a few men stationed in the tower. It is not a dangerous task, but it is vital."
"Then we should send our best. Send Alistair and these new Grey Wardens to make sure it's done."
That kinda seems like overkill, Ruby thought.
Yeah, but it keeps Jaune out of the thickest fighting.
I'm not a child that needs to be protected, Ren, subvocalized Jaune, who added a bit of his exasperation so that his teammate would get the hint.
Loghain looked skeptical. Well, he looked skeptical towards Cailan. Towards Jaune, he glared with naked animosity and contempt. "You rely on these Grey Wardens too much, Cailan. Is that truly wise?"
"Enough of your conspiracy theories, Loghain!" Cailan's exasperation boiled over. "Wardens fight the Darkspawn, no matter from where they hail!"
Duncan spoke up. "Your Majesty, you should consider the possibility of the Archdemon making an appearance."
"My men have seen no sign of any dragons in the Wilds," Loghain muttered.
Didn't your men get wrecked by, like, a dozen Darkspawn? asked Nora, prompting Jaune to bite down hard on his cheek to keep from snickering in the middle of a war briefing.
For his part, Cailan just shrugged at Duncan. "Isn't that what your men are here for?"
"I… yes, Your Majesty," conceded Duncan.
A man in the robes of a mage approached the table. "Your Majesty, the tower and its beacon are unnecessary. Let the Circle use our spells to signal - "
"We will not trust any lives to your spells, mage," a woman in the finery of a Chantry priestess practically spat. "Save them for the Darkspawn."
"Enough!" Loghain stood up and away from the war map, clearly disgusted. "This plan will suffice. The Grey Wardens will light the damn beacon."
"Thank you, Loghain," Cailan nodded in the Teyrn's direction. "I cannot wait for that glorious moment. The Grey Wardens and the King of Ferelden, fighting side-by-side to stem the tide of battle."
Loghain had begun to amble away from the meeting. "Yes, Cailan. A glorious moment for us all…"
Bad guy alert! Ruby called.
Yep. Guaranteed that he's gonna be a bad guy, agreed Yang.
All he's missing is the mustache, really. Nora chimed in.
With no one watching Jaune was able to roll his eyes at the proceedings. You mean to tell me that the obviously spooky guy with the obviously spooky voice, dropping mysterious lines and practically twirling his mustache could possibly be plotting something nefarious?
Alanna nudged him. "Come on, let's get ready for the fight. Or, the trudge up the ladder. Whichever comes first."
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Alistair did not take news of his assignment well.
"What? I won't be in the battle?"
Duncan felt a headache coming on. "This is by the King's personal request, Alistair. If the beacon isn't lit, the Teyrn's men won't know when to charge."
"And he needs three Grey Wardens to hold the torch just in case?"
"Alistair…" warned Duncan.
"Fine, fine, I get it, very important," the young knight relented. "But just so you know, if the king asks me to put on a dress and do the Remigold, I'm drawing the line."
Alanna chuckled. "Oh, I don't know, that could make for a cunning tactic in battle."
"What, me shimmying down the Darkspawn lines? We could kill them while they're laughing to death."
"You know, my life took a dramatic turn that time I put on a dress at a ball," Jaune mused. "You'd be stunned by just how much the ladies loved it."
Alistair peered over at him. "Did they really?"
"Oh, yeah, like you wouldn't believe. Tell 'em, Alanna."
The elven mage put on her most deadpan expression. "Every woman wants a man with confidence, and nothing says confidence like a gown."
"That's what my dad said!" Jaune cheered. "I mean, except for the gown part, but the rest of it was spot on."
Alistair looked back and forth between them, now intrigued. "Really?"
Duncan just buried his face in his hands. "Just… why?" After a brief moment mourning his hopes and dreams for the future of Ferelden's Grey Wardens, the Warden-Commander resolved to instill some semblance of order after the battle. "At any rate, your task is simple; get to the tower, wait for the signal, and light the beacon. Alistair will know what to look for. I will need to get to the king's side soon. Listen to me; from here on out, you three are on your own. You are all Grey Wardens, and I expect you to act accordingly."
"Duncan…" Alistair looked up to his mentor. "Maker watch over you, Duncan."
"May He watch over us all."
Thunder rolled as the three Wardens made their way across the bridge towards the Tower of Ishal.
Battle's starting, reported Ren.
Puppies! Nooooo!
War hounds without Aura, Yang noted grimly.
From their vantage point on the bridge Jaune watched in disbelief as the King's forces did a full-on charge away from a fortified position. "How are they supposed to hold until the reinforcements arrive?"
Alanna shook her head. "Not our problem! We need to get to the tower!"
They ran across the stone bridge, keeping their heads down as arrows and boulders flew overhead. The Wardens skidded to a halt as they saw that the courtyard in front of the tower was filled with soldiers battling Darkspawn.
"How did they get past the lines?" Alanna wondered.
"Not our problem!" Alistair echoed her earlier statement.
Jaune drew Crocea Mors, expanding its shield. "Right! We cut our way to the tower! Let's go!" The three set off in double time, the two knights in front with the mage behind. Alistair and Jaune used their shields to bash their way through the melee, knocking aside what Darkspawn attempted to waylay them. The party didn't stop to try and finish off the ones that fell, pressing on for the Tower of Ishal.
At the base of the tower, the Wardens were met by a pair of soldiers who came running from the building. They were drenched in sweat and appeared to be nursing minor cuts and scrapes. "Are you Grey Wardens?" one of the pair asked them. "You need to get help - the tower has been taken!"
"Taken, taken how?" demanded Alistair. Behind him, Alanna shrugged.
"At a guess, Darkspawn," the mage muttered.
The soldier either didn't hear her interjection or, more like, he didn't care. "They came up from under the ground," he reported. "Must have been tunneling."
"The entire tower is overrun!" his companion added.
The three Grey Wardens shared a look, reaching a silent consensus. "Then we need to get to the top and light the beacon ourselves!"
No way you're going to reach the top in time for the signal, Ren pointed out.
Not a whole lot we can do about that now, Jaune replied. Nothing doing, I guess.
Jaune nodded to the pair of soldiers. "I know you're probably a bit beat up, but we're going to need your help if we're going to get the rest of the army in place in time. You with us?"
"Aye, guess we're in it," one of them said. "Come on, Alec," he said to his fellow. "Once more into the breach and all that."
"If we make it out of this, I'm filing for a discharge," the other man groused.
With that, the five of them entered the Tower of Ishal, the two soldiers leading the way. The entryway opened up to a large, circular antechamber. Darkspawn snarled at them from behind an array of makeshift barricades. The two soldiers made for an opening in the barricades…
Jaune saw the danger too late. "Wait!"
The first soldier stumbled over a rope that stretched across the gap. As his weight snapped it free, it released a gout of thick, viscous grease, sending the two men slipping off of their feet to land heavily on their backs.
Grease? Ruby wondered. What do they need grease for -
Her inquiry was answered as one of the Darkspawn, the shorter variety called a "genlock," sent a magical ball of flame into the grease. The substance went up instantly, the sudden conflagration catching the soldiers., who began cooking alive in their armor. Their screams echoed off the stone walls and ceiling, mixing with the roar of the flames.
Oh shit! Yang swore.
Jaune was stunned, and mentally re-evaluated the threat that these Darkspawn creatures posed. They'd set a trap, a trap! Not even the oldest and most cunning of Grimm had displayed that level of abstract thinking and tactical acumen, with only the Queen of the Grimm, Salem herself, capable of making complex plans.
Good to keep wary, congratulated Mahina. Not all of your enemies will have similar attributes to those of your homeworld.
Alanna worked her arms in a complex series of movements, conjuring up a magical frost to smother and extinguish the fires. She then rushed forward along with Jaune, with Alistair covering them with his shield.
Jaune winced as he saw the gruesome burn damage inflicted on the two men. One had already succumbed to his wounds as Alanna examined the other. "Can your magic…?" he asked her.
She shook her head. "Only one treatment left for him. Cover his eyes"
Alanna took out a knife.
What is she going to do with that? asked Ruby.
Weiss mentally sighed. Sometimes…
As Jaune covered the burned man's eyes, Alanna slipped her knife between his ribs. The poor man's pained groans and whimpers gave way to a choked gasp and then a sigh.
Sometimes the only thing left to do is to end the suffering, Ren finished for Weiss.
Alanna cleaned her knife on the dead man's burnt clothes, then stood up. Her face was set in a determined mask, giving away nothing of her inner thoughts. "Jaune. Let's go."
He followed her lead, sparing one last look for the dead men as he stood.
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The unexpected tactical cunning of the Darkspawn invaders forced the Wardens to make their way through the tower slowly and methodically, killing the foul creatures before them as they went. The grease trap at the front of the tower wasn't the only cunningly-placed obstacle that the Darkspawn had placed; on the third floor, in a burst of intuition, Jaune had urged his two companions to duck into a side hallway, which enabled them to bypass a pair of ballistae that had been rigged to fire into the main entryway.
"Good call on that one, Jaune," Alistair remarked, cleaning off his sword after they'd ambushed the Darkspawn crew that had been manning the ballistae. "Pretty sure those bolts are longer than Alanna."
The elf in question just shook her head. "Anyone hurt? No? Let's keep going." She took off in the direction of the staircase without waiting to see if either of her fellow Wardens were following.
Jaune just shrugged at Alistair as he jogged to follow her. "You really shouldn't strike out ahead without us," he remarked as they made their way up the stairs.
"It was only a few feet," she griped, pushing open the heavy wooden doors that led to the top level of the tower. "I hardly think that there is anything here that my magic could not -"
They came to a halt as their minds registered the room's sole occupant. Crouched amidst the burning ruins of the room's furniture, gruesomely crunching its way through the corpse of some unfortunate soldier, loomed the largest Darkspawn that they'd seen yet. As it rose and rose and rose, they saw that it was roughly humanoid in shape, with bunches of heavy muscle swelling underneath pallid, sickly grey skin. It ran the back of its arm across a mouth adorned with long, yellow jagged teeth that interlocked together. As the finishing touch to its nightmarish image, a pair of long horns erupted from its skull, each easily three feet in length and curling up behind its head.
The creature rose to its full height, some twelve feet tall, and roared at the Wardens.
Aw, nerts, Jaune thought.
"Ogre!" Alistair was the first to speak, identifying their enemy. He drew his sword.
Jaune shook off his shock at the sight of his new foe. After all, the Deathstalker at Initiation had been larger, and the Nuckaleavee at Kuroyuri had stood taller. He expanded his shield, checking to make sure that Alanna, who had her staff in a white-knuckled death grip, was ready to fight. "All right, how do we fight it?" he asked.
"Don't let it grab you," Alistair answered. "If it grabs someone, try to stun it, bash the head."
"Can we get it on its back?" Jaune asked.
Alanna shrugged. "Maybe an ice spell on the floor? Or if we get its legs together and a heavy weight up top?"
Jaune nodded. "All right. What we need to do is -" with that, the time for planning was over, as the Ogre gave another roar and charged them like an enormous bipedal bull. "Scatter!" Jaune yelled.
They darted in three separate directions, with Jaune actually diving over the thick arm of the creature, hitting the ground in a roll. He rose to his feet and saw the Ogre reach down towards Alanna. The elf touched her index and middle finger to her temple and emitted a blinding flash that had the creature recoiling away.
"Alistair!" Jaune called as he charged towards the Ogre's flank. The Huntsman went for his old standby, cutting into the back of the Darkspawn's leg, while Alistair drove an overhand stab into its back.
The Ogre roared again, pivoting with surprising agility to face the pair. Alistair struggled to pull his sword out of the monster's back, only to be sent flying through the air by a powerful backhanded slap from the Ogre. He hit the ground hard a dozen feet away, rolling a bit as he struggled to rise.
"Hey, you!" Jaune shouted at the Ogre to focus its attention on himself. He succeeded, then somersaulted out of the way of its sudden bullrush. The Ogre was carried on by its own momentum, crashing heavily into the worn stone wall behind where Jaune had stood.
He sheathed Crocea Mors, triggering the mechanism that sent the sharpened rim of the shield up and out, forming a heavier, broad-bladed bastard sword.
What's that song that just played? Nora asked.
Oh, that's Jaune's leitmotif, answered Mahina.
Jaune has a theme song?
"I have a theme song?" Jaune muttered aloud. As the goddess explained to his friends about their particular themes, he shook his head and focused on the task at hand. The Ogre turned around once more, looking for him. Jaune hefted Crocea Mors into a ready guard, but as the Ogre made to rush for him again, it was struck by a bolt of magical lightning from Alanna, who had been charging the spell from off to one side. The great beast flinched, bright sparks of lightning crackling across its skin.
Jaune knew an opportunity when he saw one, and dashed forward to capitalize on the opening. With a great two-handed swing, he opened a deep cut on the Ogre's chest, causing a great gout of sickly black Darkspawn blood to spew from the wound, covering Jaune in the viscous substance.
The Ogre staggered back, then dropped to one knee when Alistair ripped his sword free from its back and then promptly buried it into the back of the monster's knee. Jaune recovered from his first blow and struck another, slicing deep into the Ogre's other leg, dropping it to the ground.
He flipped his sword over in a quick flourish before driving the twin Mistrali Bronze blades of his sword into the base of the Ogre's skull, wrenching his sword free with the cracking sound of splintering bone. The Darkspawn thrashed in its death convulsions before laying still.
Jaune shook the blood off of his sword as he looked over his teammates. "Everyone good? Alistair, you hurt?"
"I'm fine," the other knight waved him off. "We need to get the beacon lit. We've surely missed the signal. Let's just light it and hope for the best."
This entire operation has been a disaster, Ren commented.
Alanna cast a magic flame on the oil-soaked wood at the base of the tower's beacon, causing a great conflagration to erupt from the top of the tower. The Warden's slumped in relief as the beacon lit, with Alanna wandering off to check the contents of some nearby barrels.
"That's a neat trick, with the sword," Alistair remarked.
"A friend of mine figured out how to make it work that way," Jaune shrugged.
Heads-up, betrayal. Weiss informed.
Jaune turned away from Alistair so he wouldn't see the sudden shock on his face. Oh crap, the Teryn actually -
Oh! Oh no, the king is dead, Ruby added. Alistair was right to warn against those ogres grabbing you.
Wait, Jaune tried to keep abreast of the rapidly shifting situation. The troops aren't -
Duncan's dead too, reported Ruby, her tone saddened and subdued.
"What?!" Jaune couldn't help but hiss. He felt Alistair drop a hand onto his shoulder.
"What's wrong?" the other man asked him.
Jaune shook his head. "Something's wrong. We need to be ready for -"
The door burst open suddenly as a horde of Darkspawn rushed into the room. Jaune scrambled to draw his sword and expand his shield as the first rank of the invading Darkspawn began firing arrows and hurling javelins at the three Wardens. Jaune swore as he saw Alanna fall under the volley of projectiles.
"Alanna!" He took off in a dead charge towards the Darkspawn. "See to her!" he shouted at Alistair.
He slammed his shield into the first hurlock that he reached, hacking and stabbing wildly at the teeming mass of Darkspawn before him. He stamped and fenced like a madman, desperate to keep them away from his new friends. So ferocious was his assault that he actually succeeded in holding them at bay for a short time, giving Alistair the space he needed to get to Alanna and drag her off into an alcove. He spared her one last glance before running to join Jaune in fending off the Darkspawn.
Alistair skipped a step as he saw a cut on Jaune's face close itself with a golden glow emanating from the newer Warden. He ultimately just shrugged and took to the fight, using his shield to cover Jaune's open spots. After all, if his fellow Warden was some kind of rogue mage, an apostate, it wouldn't matter very much if they all died here.
"I don't think we can hold them back," Jaune gritted his teeth as he used his shield to punch a dying genlock off of the end of his sword.
"Doesn't look like it," Alistair said. "All we can do is take as many of them with us as we can."
Jaune grinned, his expression bitter. "In death, sacrifice, right?"
"I knew you'd get the hang of this."
Bit by bit, though the monster's blood and corpses fell thick onto the floor, the two armored Wardens gave ground before the Darkspawn. Finally, they were pushed back to where Alanna had lay unconscious and bleeding, stabbed by several arrows.
Pull him back out of there! Nora shouted.
That which can be gained without risk can be lost without risk, Mahina responded. This task was always one of danger.
"End of the line," Jaune muttered. The two men stood over the fallen elf and prepared their last stand. Jaune wondered what would happen if he died here. Would he be sent back to Remnant? Or would he actually die-die? Whatever happened, he didn't regret his choice to try and save Pyrrha. The way he saw it, he'd been living on borrowed time ever since the Emerald Forest, when his stupid self should have died as a greasy smear against some tree. But Pyrrha had saved him. How could he, in good conscience, have given anything less than his all to repay her?
Well, if nothing else, his Aura would let him inflict a damn good bloody nose on them before they overwhelmed him.
With that Jaune shifted his grip on his sword, relishing the feel of the hilt in his hand one last time. He nodded to Alistair, and braced himself.
That was when the stone ceiling of the tower tore away as if it were made of thin paper, and Jaune and Alistair came face-to-face with an honest-to-goodness dragon.
At first, as the dragon reared back its head on a long, serpentine neck, Jaune thought that the Archdemon itself had come to finish them off. Which, if nothing else, would make for a memorable way to go. However, when the beast snapped its head forward, sending a gout of blisteringly-hot flame towards the Darkspawn, he quickly realized that this dragon was much different from the corrupted apparition that he had seen in his vision. Where the Archdemon had been rotten, scales dulled and flaking off of blistered, blackened skin, this dragon shimmered in the light of the flames, looking whole, healthy, and very much alive.
The floor of the tower soon gave way under the incredible heat of the dragonfire, sending the burning remnants of the Darkspawn crashing to the ground, to be buried amidst the rubble of the suddenly-collapsing Tower of Ishal.
Jaune and Alistair stood on the sole remaining section of the top floor, shielding their faces as best they could from the heat. From out of the flame, they saw a woman stride towards them, as unconcernedly casual as if she were perusing the weekly market instead of a Darkspawn-overrun hellscape.
Alistair coughed, then gasped as he recognized the woman. "You… you're Morrigan's mother! The Witch of the Wilds!"
Where before, she had appeared as an unassuming old woman, the Witch of the Wilds now stood in her full glory revealed, in blood-red studded armor, sharpened steel gauntlets, and a black iron headdress that rose to entwine the draconic-looking horns into which she had shaped her white hair.
Wow...talk about extreme makeover, Yang snarked, sounding audibly relieved that Jaune appeared to be saved.
"My, you Grey Wardens seem to have got yourselves into quite the predicament," the old witch said by way of greeting. "I don't suppose you'd be interested in a way off of this tower?"
Alistair stared at the Witch. "We've wounded. Can you take her?"
The Witch peered at Alanna's body. For a moment, Jaune thought the worst, but then the elf groaned softly, barely audible over the roaring of the dragonfire. "The girl clings to life, but we must move quickly if we are to save her. Gather her up, and prepare yourselves."
"Prepare for what?" asked Jaune, as Alistair carefully lifted Alanna into a bridal carry. Jaune's question was soon answered as the Witch of the Wilds began to glow, shifting her form into that of the mighty dragon that they had laid waste to the Darkspawn of the Tower. With the beating of powerful wings, the dragon took flight, but not before her massive talons closed around the Grey Wardens, with Jaune in one and Alistair and Alanna in the other.
The flight away from the remains of the Tower of Ishal granted Jaune a magnificent survey of the outcome of the Battle of Ostagar. King Cailan's forces and the rest of the Grey Wardens had been completely overrun, with mutilated corpses stacked dozens high on the ramparts leading into the fortress itself. A few brave souls had stood to buy as much time as they could for a handful of survivors to make a desperate flight north of Ostagar. Further to the north, almost out of sight, Jaune spied the torches carried by the army of Teryn Loghain, the lights forming neat columns as the soldiers retreated in orderly fashion from the field of battle.
What a disaster, he thought.
Their plan was fatally-flawed from the onset, Ren agreed.
Where are you going to go from here? asked Ruby.
Jaune gave the psychic equivalent of a weary shrug. Right now, wherever the nice dragon lady takes us. After that, I guess we try and find whatever allies we can to hunt down the Archdemon.
There is little more that you can do tonight, Mahina said. Rest now Jaune, knight and Warden. Your challenges in this world have only just begun.
That was not a comforting thought to lull him to sleep, but bone-tired and numb from the mass death to which he had borne witness, Jaune was still able to let go of his consciousness, to find what rest he could in the clutches of a dragon.
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Chapter Endnotes: So, coronavirus is a thing. Hope everyone is as safe as they can be in a global pandemic. I'd like to take a moment to express my gratitude to the people who are keeping society together right now - retail workers at grocery stores, the delivery drivers taking food and supplies to people, the clerks manning gas stations, truck drivers hauling supplies across a shut-down country, the logistics workers trying to allocate supplies to the places where they're needed, and of course, the medical professionals who are on the front lines.
The only way we're going to pull through this without collapse is by working together. Mistreating retail workers is a sign of poor character in the best of times; now, when they're pulling long hours and risking exposure to ensure that people are able to procure the food and supplies they need, if I see someone out there abusing a clerk, I will kick their ass up around their ears. I don't care if you're unaccustomed to shortages and rationing - not everything is about you, Karen, so buck the fuck up, or catch these goddamned hands.
Or, if throwing hands is too disruptive, then those people screaming at the poor stockers trying to keep the shelves clean should be banned from the stores, and consigned to forage for food in the friggin' wilderness.
Some people, I swear. Sorry about that. Figured that, if I have a couple hundred people reading this, it'll at least get the message out to stop abusing retail workers.
Anyway, onto the story-related stuff. Reader CommandoSquirrel asked if Jaune should be "over" Pyrrha by now. I reckon this story is about two-and a half to maybe three years post-Fall. So, imagine this: your friend, partner, mentor, and apparent possible love interest is killed, and it's at least partially your fault. You press on to try and avenge her death, only to realize that your efforts to do so are endangering what other friends you have remaining. Eventually, the sharp pain of grief begins to heal, scarring over. Maybe, in time, you even start to consider other possibilities - that scythe girl sure grew up pretty, or maybe your old school crush might be more receptive now. The point is, while the wound of her death has scarred over, it isn't actively hurting you anymore.
And then, in all of that, somehow, out of the friggin' blue, you're offered a chance. It isn't merely a once in a lifetime chance, it's an outright impossible chance, a chance to upend the natural order of things, and undo that mistake that had wounded you those years ago. You can bet that most people would find that wound at least a bit reopened, and they'd reconsider things that they may have dismissed years ago in light of what they'd learned in the intervening time, wondering what they could have done differently.
So, I think it makes sense that, when suddenly presented with the impossible opportunity to get Pyrrha back, Jaune's thoughts would be on her.
Oh, and while I'm sure that the commenter didn't mean anything by it, LoneWriter091 did challenge a transgender woman to "have the balls" to keep writing this story. I know, I know, but I can't resist the opportunity to make an off-color trans joke: LoneWriter091, should I ever divest myself of those balls which evoke your concern, I can assure you that I will inform you posthaste. Unfortunately, the pandemic means that all such surgeries are postponed indefinitely, so I suppose I'll simply have to continue writing.
Right, moving on, now that I've made everyone uncomfortable. Next up on my agenda is finishing the next chapter of "Falling Snow," then I'll get to the next chapter of this story. Thank you all for reading, and good luck out there.
-Mahina