Author's Notes:

StellarLupine - Thanks for sharing your thoughts! I'm glad you aren't too worried about it. I'm certainly not beholden to make any effort to align with Three Hopes, and I trust that my current readers are understanding of the predicament that many fanfic authors are facing. Even so... if feasible, I don't want this story aging too badly for anyone who checks it out in the future and has certain expectations.

Based on what I've seen from the demo, this could go one of three ways:

1. I add this character in, but he dies offscreen before the events of this story. He'll be name dropped and could appear in flashbacks, but that's it. I think I could do this pretty easily, and it could actually enhance some plot points. The downside is that I would underutilize a canon character that new readers might expect to have a larger role.
2. He gets merged into one of the existing characters. Those of you who have seen/played the demo already know the only logical candidate. The feasibility of this depends on what more we learn in the full game. This would take more effort, and I'm currently a little hesitant on the idea. However, I might change my mind if he ends up being developed more, and it would be nice to rely on fewer OCs.
3. Options 1 and 2 are still in play for now, but if the game keeps on spitting out contradictions with my lore, I'll be less inclined to make any real effort and just throw a "Three Hopes Canon Non-compliant" tag on this. I might make references to it here and there, though.

I don't want to rush into anything, so this chapter was released with no input from the demo. I'll reflect on this more once the full game is out. I will ultimately make the final decision, but if anyone else has opinions on what you think would work best, feel welcome to share them! I will happily consider your thoughts. Thanks!

Chapter 30

Day 5 of the Red Wolf Moon, Year 1177 (Fódlan Calendar)

Khalid and James sat together with their backs against the wall of the Dunya's training grounds watching as Abbas mercilessly whipped a target dummy with his sword. He channeled all of his frustrations in every blow.

"Why is our uncle even here?" Abbas questioned. "Everyone says the warriors from Fódlan are weak, yet they still expect us to get all excited whenever we win a battle. What are we supposed to be impressed by, exactly? I'm sure it's Shahid that actually leads our warriors, anyways."

James answered hazardously, "Even if they're weak, an invasion of a full force cou-."

"This is a good time to stay silent, James," Abbas intruded.

James immediately complied, and for good reason. It was important to ensure Abbas kept his aim focused on his dummy rather than a fleshier recipient.

Skirmishes on Fódlan's Throat occurred on a regular basis, but for some reason or another, the most recent clash had been deemed particularly successful. It could never be too successful, naturally, or Almyra would actually succeed in taking the Locket. If that happened, Ghalib's role would suddenly seem far less important unless he led a true invasion.

The news of the Ghalib's victory prompted a flurry of jubilation, and King Faruq honored the occasion by inviting the mirza and several of his closest commanders to the Dunya. Shahid was appointed to hold the Mirza's Citadel in Ghalib's absence. While that was an honor, it was also a clever way to make sure the focus of the celebration stayed on the mirza.

Of course, their father would have been inviting criticism if he did not make at least a cursory effort to recognize the success. Still… it was an uncomfortable experience for Khalid. The "enemies" were his mother's people. For all Khalid knew, relatives of his may have been among the dead. He was tempted to just throw all of the blame on Ghalib and the Tabarzin, but Nader had been there, too… someone Khalid loved and respected. The grand agha travelled often to ensure all reaches of Almyra remained secure, but Khalid could not rationalize Nader's participation in some of the battles on Fódlan's Throat.

It was doubtful that Abbas or James worried about these details, but the three brothers were at least unified in their dislike of Mirza Ghalib. While their father had pressured them into greeting their uncle upon his arrival, all three were quick to scram at the soonest possible moment. Abbas nominated the training grounds as a potential hiding spot.

The folly of that decision became obvious when Mirza Ghalib materialized from a nearby doorway and hailed, "Ah! I did not expect to find the three of you here. I feared this part of the palace was all but abandoned nowadays."

Khalid groaned. Why would they choose the training grounds to hide from someone known for training religiously? Abbas had reasoned that Ghalib would crave a break from the constant drills while on his visit, and the elder prince also wanted to burn off energy before the upcoming feast. Khalid knew it was a bad stratagem, but he decided it was not worth an argument with Abbas. They would now pay the price.

"What are you doing here?" Abbas spit out. "Don't you have anything else going on?"

"I requested some time to walk the palace alone. It's been a long time since I was last home, after all. People are still busy preparing a few things, so it worked out well," their uncle explained calmly. "… Your fighting stance reminds me of Nader. Does your father not instruct you?"

Abbas answered, "Not often. He's busy. It's his job to safeguard all of Almyra, not just pester cowards lounging in their fort."

"Still… to not prepare his children to fight or lead? Does he think you have no chance at becoming king one day?"

"Of course he does! But he doesn't baby us. He says he wants us to choose our own paths."

"More likely that he's just ceded his role to Nader, who also finds the time to 'safeguard all of Almyra'," Uncle Ghalib mused. He then smiled sickeningly. "I know my brother introduced you, but it's hard to keep track of so many faces… which of the bastards are you, again?"

The eldest brother predictably stepped forward aggressively, but James jumped up and held him back. Abbas had never suffered that appellation without losing his temper.

"My name is Abbas ibn Faruq Al Hafeez. My mother was of the royal harem. Her name was Khayr, and she spent more of her life in this palace than you ever did. I am not a bastard, and I never will be."

"Hmm," Ghalib hummed dismissively. "You've surely informed your father of your displeasure over his decision to disband the harem. How did he react?"

"Well…" Abbas muttered unsteadily. "I wouldn't put i-."

"Ah. A coward, then. Interesting." Ghalib turned to the youngest prince, completely ignoring James, and determined, "And you are Prince Khalid. Those green eyes immediately give you away. The only other Almyran I know with those is Prince Shahid, much to his annoyance. Are you certain Tiana is not his mother?"

Khalid stepped up. "That sounds rather impossible, so Shahid must be a victim of a cruel trick by the gods of inheritance. But yes, I am Khalid. What about it?"

"I was just curious… how do you feel about our triumph against Fódlan? Has your mother given any advice on how to behave?"

Khalid seethed to hear his mother's name weaponized against him, but he outwardly remained composed.

"Those are very interesting questions, uncle. Be that as it may, I am neither impelled nor inclined to answer them."

Ghalib smirked, only slightly annoyed. "There's wisdom in knowing when to speak. If the elder bastard ever hopes to be king, you might need teach him that lesson." He cleared his throat and declared, "Anyways, I should be going. There are other places I'd like to see. Until tonight, then."

James had to maintain his hold on his brother until they were certain Ghalib was gone. Abbas then shook him off gruffly.

"Imagine if uncle actually put that tongue of his to use besides insulting us," Abbas complained.

"He only does it because he knows he'll get a reaction out of you. Notice that he didn't talk about Shahid like that," Khalid warned. "He'll act all polite and doting when others are watching, while you'll be made out as an irritable fool."

Abbas's eye twitched, but he muttered, "I'm aware of that. But how am I supposed to just feel nothing? He's not just disrespecting me, but all of the expunged children across Almyra."

"Feeling and acting are different things. I'll admit, though, that emotions will sometimes cloud even the most vigilant person's judgement. When that happens, please at least listen to us when we try to warn you."

"I don't need you preaching to me, Khalid. It would only humiliate me more," Abbas spat.

Khalid held his hands up defensively. "Okay. No preaching, then. How about I just make a signal that only we recognize? For example, I could hold my fist up, clench it, and then unclench it. You know… as a way of saying that you need to relax, or that you are about to do something that you'll regret."

Abbas blinked. "That sounds… stupid looking."

"It won't look that weird if we're sitting at the time. And hey, everyone gets a hand cramp every once in a while! If it looked too normal, you wouldn't even notice it."

Abbas stared at him and eventually grumbled, "If it makes you feel better."

"It does. I don't predict us to become bosom friends any time soon, Abbas, but at the end of the day, we brothers need to look out for each other at least a bit. Our uncle certainly won't do it for us."

James nodded and agreed, "Fate put us together, like it or not, and that counts for something. Right, Abbas?"

"… Right," Abbas permitted in a low voice.

In the Shadow of History - Day 28 of the Pegasus Moon, Year 1186 (Fódlan Calendar)

Seeing Abbas at parley for the second time, Khalid was tempted to try signaling to him in vain hopes of reminding him of how far he had lost his way. Not only was Abbas embarrassed to be siding with his hated uncle, as had been the case at Sous River, but he now gazed at the opposing faces yearningly. He had not been home in months, and the weight of his actions had undoubtedly taken a toll. He was completely silent during the entire meeting. Still, if Abbas was convinced that Khalid had tried to kill their father, there was nothing the younger brother could do to help.

The combined army of Elam and Shomal had intercepted Ghalib's forces outside the city of Merv in northwestern Elam. The terrain was thankfully flat, wide, and dull- no hills would interfere with their strategy this time.

Merv had already yielded to the Tabarzin army, and the local authorities were being replaced with Ghalib's provisional government. That process came to a halt when the king's army arrived, and the opposing commanders once again met on the field before opening hostilities. Most people in attendance had also been present at Sous River. The major exceptions were that there was no Meteoran representation and that Soraya had decided against accompanying the army. She had come unexpectedly close to meeting a grisly end last time, and she was presumably uninterested in repeating that experience.

"I won't judge Soraya too harshly for staying home," Ghalib said in recognition of this. "To be honest, Tiana, I'm surprised you came to face me again. I wasn't sure if your army would even abandon the walls of Istakhr. Perhaps your years in Almyra have finally shed you of the cowardice you were raised to cling to."

Tiana shook her head. "You know I've been this way since the day I arrived, Ghalib. Other than Spahbed Youtab, who exactly are you trying to impress? She would already strangle a baby if you commanded it, so why waste your breath?"

Youtab's eyes flared with hatred, but she remained silent. Also ignoring the comment, Ghalib's eyes strained as he examined his opponents' army across the field.

"I haven't seen those cannons you dragged across Elam at all today. Did you drop them off in the city? Why even bring them?"

Nader answered, "We weren't certain if you'd meet us on the field or if you'd force us to lay siege somewhere. As you may have noticed, we've developed ways of transporting them faster, so it was worth being prepared for any scenario."

"Ah, you've fixed the weight issue! Well, I applaud the ingenuity of your engineers. That said, am I correct in assuming that they still haven't mastered the range problem? Otherwise, you'd still try fielding them."

In response, Nader and everyone else put on a well-acted show of sharing wordless, anxious glances.

Unless Ghalib was bluffing, Khalid's scheme to disguise their new weapon had worked. The long pipe they constructed had been disassembled, painted, and textured to look like cannons from the air. Rather than transferring them to allies in Merv as Ghalib theorized, the "cannons" had instead been discretely moved to the army's command tent overnight to be reassembled.

"The cannons are wasted here, but perhaps the people of Merv will put them to use should we lose," Khalid suggested. "I mean, are you expecting them to welcome you with a parade after hearing that you killed the king's wife, two of his sons, and his closest friends? Elam loves its king."

"All true Almyrans love their king," Ghalib agreed. "So much so, in fact, that they understand I must liberate him from your lot."

"You mean to imply that the king is too weak to handle us?" Demetrius reasoned.

Ghalib's face fell with exaggerated sorrow. "My brother was strong, as much so as myself. But recent years have been challenging. Aggression from Fódlan and Sreng… disorder during the plague… rebellion in Meteora. The people have had enough of chaotic, divided leadership. The problem is that Faruq thought he could delegate power and make friends with everyone, even foreigners. The people whispering into his ear caused him to stumble. I know he is capable of more, though, and with me showing him the path, we still have time to turn this around."

"You disrespect Faruq," Nader accused. "Do you think he'd really go along with that? Just lounge around and say nothing as you drive this land into the ground? He'll condemn you, and your story will instantly crumble. You would have to kill him."

Ghalib shook his head. "Faruq has been crippled, and he'll likely be bound to the Dunya for the rest of his life. I don't foresee many messages getting out of the palace without my approval. He's ill, and that means there's always a danger of him unknowingly saying something injudicious unless he's closely supervised."

When Ghalib's opposites scoffed, Darius confronted on the mirza's behalf, "You really think my father is such a monster that he'd kill his brother in cold blood?"

"I don't know. Should we ask what Shahid thinks?" Khalid provoked.

He had no evidence that Ghalib or Darius were involved in Shahid's death, but his cousin's brief unnerved expression went a long way to confirm his suspicions. When Darius recovered, he ignored the question and continued, "We're not menaces that dreamed of sallying forth to raze Elam. The tragedy we've watched unfold only occurred you chose to resist. You should have sided with the will of the Almyran people instead of the will of a gullible father."

"The will of the Almyran people?" Khalid repeated. "You may have tried to burn the evidence, but people will one day see the truth. It might take a year; it might take a hundred years. But history will eventually see you two for who you really are, and it won't be forgiving."

"Truth? I'll decide what is the truth for the historians," Ghalib said gravely. "History is just a narrative penned by poets, and only a weak ruler allows someone else be the author."

Queen Tiana rose her hand and said with disgust, "I've heard enough, Ghalib. Only the acolytes you surround yourself with actually buy into your excuses. You chose to initiate this conflict. You marched against the king, and now you've pillaged our cities. Whatever goodwill you accrued for your campaigns against Fódlan has been forever crushed alongside the children of Almyra you've snuffed out. Your crimes won't be forgotten in this world or by those that have passed beyond. May fire from the heavens rain on your army, and I pray you be judged in eternity with righteous anger."

Tiana had long since earned the moniker of "demon queen", but even Ghalib was left speechless by this outburst. He eventually mumbled, "We have nothing more to discuss. Prepare yourselves for battle."

The end of the parley was sudden, but perhaps it was for the best. It was obvious that nothing would be resolved, so it was little more than an opportunity to unleash insults that had been refined over the previous four months.

"Guess we part here, Dimitri," Khalid observed as he walked with his retainer back towards their lines. "Are you ready?"

Khalid had been encouraged to join the wyvern corps since he had devoted all his attention on the upcoming aerial conflict. It was a sensible request. However, everyone agreed that Dimitri needed to join the infantry. If anything could cut down an elephant, they reckoned, it was Areadbhar and its wielder.

Dimitri was unperturbed by their separation. "It looks to be a new experience, but I'll manage," he assured.

The elephants were lined up formidably at the front of the Tabarzin army. Some of them carried howdahs, while others were simply adorned with blankets. Soldiers wielding bows and javelins sat on their backs, eager for an unforgettable experience. About half of the elephants bore specialized armor to cover their weak points. The Tabarzin smithies must have failed to finish the full quota due lack of time or resources.

Khalid believed Dimitri's assertion. The elephants were intimidating, sure, but they were not as large as the epics suggested. As Khalid had theorized, Ghalib's main goal was undoubtedly to distract his opponents from the real problem at hand- the wyvern corps. The ploy failed to disturb Khalid, but other soldiers continued to whisper amongst each other about the enormous beasts across the field. After watching a literal towering dragon appear from nowhere and wipe out waves of Adrestians during the Battle of Garreg Mach, perhaps he was just desensitized to the spectacle by this point.

The battle did not immediately begin after the failed parley. Priests from Merv had set up a makeshift altar for the warriors to use before the battle. There were several basins of cleansing water and a flame taken from the fire kept eternally burning in the city's central temple. Devotees of the Old Ways came from both armies to pray. For many of them, it would be their last.

Khalid declined to visit the altar, not only because it offered no advantage in the upcoming battle, but also because it would free up time for someone else's turn. Not to mention, the "cleansing" water was going to be anything but clean after a few thousand soldiers had partaken in the ceremony. This gave Khalid plenty of spare time, so he decided to pay a visit to his superior officer. Nousha was appointed the head of Elam's wyvern divisions for the battle. She reported to Senusret, who would be the overall commander of the corps.

Nousha was tightening her saddle for at least the third time when Khalid approached. He inquired, "Weren't you with the infantry at Sous River, Nousha? Why the transfer?"

She was annoyed by the interruption, but she answered, "My father's orders. He wanted me here. Didn't say why. I don't suppose he told you?"

Khalid shook his head. "If he did, I wouldn't be asking you. Why would he tell me first?"

Nousha snorted sourly. "Why, indeed?" she voiced with a bit of venom. "This whole plan is your idea, so there's nothing I need to explain. So why are you here? Looking to make a friend?"

"Would that be such an outlandish concept? Maybe I'm being presumptuous, but I actually thought our relationship was vaguely pleasant in my early memories."

Nousha smiled… still a little sourly, but also perhaps wistfully. "That was a long time ago. Maybe we could have made something of it, but we weren't there for each other when it actually mattered. I was too busy training. You were too busy trying to endure your brothers. I get it, but… let's not pretend we're something that we're not."

"You're right. We're not friends. We haven't been friends for twenty years, and nothing will change that," Khalid agreed. "But… that doesn't have to define the future. I'm not afraid of my brothers anymore, and you're now perfectly prepared to become the next grand agha. So, if you ever want to give it a second chance… all you have to do is say the word."

Nousha said nothing, instead choosing to survey the saddle for a fourth time. Silence was better than voiced ridicule, at least. He had hoped to say more, but any additional words were sure to have a detrimental outcome.

Khalid paced the field as the wait continued. He eventually came across Satiah preparing her wyvern. He greeted her with a wave. Instead of returning the favor politely, Satiah asked, "How likely is it that your ridiculous contraption actually works? I'd like the answer as a percentage. I want to know the odds my life is staked on."

"It's been thoroughly tested. It will work. The greater risk would be if everyone able to operate it was killed before it was time to use it."

"And how many people can operate it?"

"… Maybe two," Khalid admitted. There was no way of making that sound better. They had tried training some of the other novice healers, but no one seemed to make much progress in the necessary timeframe. Ariella had already been practicing wind magic, so she had a head start.

Satiah's eyebrows predictably rose. "Ah. Well, that shouldn't be a concern should we match our casualty rate from Sous River. Not a concern at all," she said bitingly. "Listen, Prince Khalid. Those tricks of yours at Pyli Kyma… they were effective. There's no arguing that. But history is full of commanders who had at least one good battle before ruining their reputation."

Khalid smiled despite the criticism. "I was once under the impression you followed orders unflinchingly and kept your complaints to yourself. But it seems you've become quite skilled at speaking your mind."

"… Just like my brother?" Satiah probed.

Khalid of course thought of Khabash, but he believed it safest to avoid any direct comparisons. Since Satiah had mentioned Khabash first, though, he affirmed with due respect, "Yes. Quite a bit like him."

Satiah wavered on how to react. She ultimately closed her eyes and sighed. "Well… try not to get yourself killed. Unlike my brother, I'm not here to keep watch over you."

"I'll do my best. And stay safe yourself."

By this time, the priests from Merv had begun to disassemble the altar. They provided a private prayer for Elam's army as they left, making it clear where their sympathies truly lied.

Khalid readied Failnaught and mounted the saddle of his wyvern as the armies organized for battle. His wyvern was a veteran from Sous River named Pantea. The wyverns they brought had all been acclimated to the pitch of their clandestine weapon, and Khalid personally oversaw Pantea's training to ensure she consistently behaved as needed. The council had debated putting something over their wyverns' ears to muffle the noise, but this was eventually deemed unnecessary and actively deleterious. The humans who planned to occupy the command tent all kept these new ear protections readily available, though.

Ghalib's army opened combat with a blast of instruments, spurring their war elephants forward. The earth trembled underneath their march. Khalid and the rest of the wyvern corps took to the air, their mounts all too eager to get out of the elephants' path. Even from the sky, Khalid could tell that the situation on the ground was hectic. Orders were being barked to soldiers shaking in fear from one flank to the other.

Ultimately, though, most of the infantry successfully reorganized from a line formation into separate columns as the elephants neared. This opened up unimpeded lanes that the elephants naturally gravitated to. The animals happily funneled into these traps, though a few veered into the defending army under the insistent guidance of their frustrated drivers. Khalid was certain he saw several soldiers savagely trampled underfoot. The haunting image of Lysithea's death replayed through his mind…

Regardless, the majority of the elephants passed through the lanes without inflicting much harm, and Elam's forces took the opportunity to loose unimpeded shots at the immense animals. The elephants were resilient, especially those with armor, but the sheer volume of arrows and javelins launched in their direction added up. Many elephants collapsed before reaching the end of the lanes. Khalid watched one fall under the swing of a shimmering lance out of the corner of his eye.

Still, the enemies riding on the elephants levied damage from their perches, and the surviving colossal beasts running wild behind the king's army posed a grave threat. Most of the elephants were bolting in indiscriminate directions by then, completely senseless from pain and confusion, but a few drivers reigned their mounts in for a second charge- this time on Elam's command tent.

Unfortunately, simply giving the elephants space to pass through was not an option this time. Elam's reserves had to stop the advance before the elephants could crush the command tent and the precious weapon inside, and although they eventually prevailed in felling the beasts, they also took heavy casualties.

The elephant charge was mostly ineffective, but the Tabarzin infantry deftly followed directly behind them. The king's army did not have time to reorganize after the elephants stormed through the lines, and Ghalib's offensive consequently had initial success pushing back their opponents. After retooling for a defensive stand, however, Elam and Shomal's infantry finally halted the advance before the line could break. The battle subsequently devolved into a stalemate.

The cavalry contest that took place was important, but it was less interesting to watch. Slowly but surely, the horses below extended farther away from the infantry action as the divisions attempted continual flanking maneuvers. They eventually reached such a distance that anyone watching from the command tents would have no visual on the duel.

Khalid's vantage allowed him to survey most of the battlefield, but he had his own problems to deal with. He once felt comfortable in aerial combat, but it was a skill that waned with a lack of recent experience. The wyvern battle was not so different from the cavalry tactics on a macroscale, it was far more chaotic to witness within the action. Beasts and projectiles pierced the air in all directions, and it took a quick and discerning eye to recognize which trajectories posed legitimate threats.

The king's wyvern corps was heavily outnumbered, and the units had orders to serve primarily in a defensive capacity. Even so, the fighting was fierce. In lieu of his own retainers, Khalid was personally accompanied by two members of the Shakiriyya. One of these was killed, while the other was forced to retreat after an injury that nearly severed her arm.

Thankfully, Khalid survived long enough to refamiliarize himself with the combat. The force, speed, and accuracy of the arrows loosed from his Hero's Relic helped, too. Few of the soldiers who came within Failnaught's aim escaped the encounter, and those who survived the brush with death all lamented that they failed to eliminate Khalid before his rebirth as a prodigy of destruction.

Much like with the cavalry, the wyvern corps gradually drifted away from the infantry battle. Vertical flanking maneuvers were theoretically possible in this new dimension, but they were usually unpopular. Trying to pass under the enemy often meant being left vulnerable to archers on the ground, while trying to push over their opponents required fighting in thinner air.

Unlike the cavalry, however, neither side had deployed their full strategy for the wyvern corps. The Tabarzin warriors targeted their foes ferociously, but they did not push their advances as vigorously as they were capable of. They probably hoped to give the illusion that the king's wyverns were holding their own against a superior enemy, forcing the Tabarzin riders to keep reaching farther to trying outflanking them. They would then unbridle their full strength at the desired time.

That was precisely what happened. After deciding that Elam and Shomal's wyverns had been driven far enough away, about three-quarters of the Tabarzin wyvern corps suddenly broke away and took off towards where the battle had begun. The remaining Tabarzin wyverns repositioned to block a pursuit. Khalid and his companions had a numerical advantage over the Tabarzin units that were left behind, but they were powerless to prevent the "onslaught" that Ghalib had planned. Elam and Shomal feigned their intention to save the infantry, but the sustained combat provided a realistic delay. As Khalid wanted, they managed to push somewhat closer to the command tent, hopefully putting them just within range of the weapon hidden inside.

The free Tabarzin wyverns swarmed over Elam's infantry. About half of the riders tried to shatter the line to end the main battle. The rest all wanted the glory of killing Queen Tiana and her attendants, thus making the command tent their first objective. Archers unleashed everything they could at the assault, but as Khalid had predicted from the beginning, it was far too little.

The Tabarzin riders were likely salivating as they made their final approach, too worried about trying to reach the queen first to even consider the possibility that they were leaping headfirst into a trap.

That was when the instrument released its shrill cry. It was a ney in principle, but it was built on a scale Almyra had never seen. It was the hasty yet dedicated achievement of Istakhr's finest intellects.

The blast of air expelled by the ney was so strong that it nearly flipped the tent into the sky, ripping fabric like a flag that had been exposed to a months-long monsoon. The experience was hopefully less painful on the other end where either Marianne or Ariella stood.

Khalid had mixed emotions. On one hand, the stratagem worked exactly as planned. On the other hand, wyverns were majestic creatures, and the sight that unfolded was horrible to watch.

The firmament filled with wails of agony. Many riders were thrown from their mounts, plunging to an abrupt demise. Other wyverns that were already swooping towards their prey were disorientated by the blast and slammed into the ground at all full speed. Some hit the earth with more forgiving force, but they were easy prey for Elam's archers and reserves.

The effects could be felt from Khalid's position. Most of the nearby Tabarzin riders managed to stay airborne, but they were left baffled by their wyverns' sudden foul disposition. Some of the trained wyverns from Elam and Shomal whined, but that was the extent of their distress with the despised timbre.

Khalid tried to ascertain what percentage of Ghalib's bulk wyvern corps had survived. Even with the successful execution of the ney, a second spell might be required if enough of the wyverns recovered. Would a second blast even have the same payoff?

It looked like the threat had been successfully neutralized, but it was possible tha-

… Khalid had allowed himself to be distracted for too long.

Both armies had paused to gather their wits, but just as the contest restarted, Khalid was brought back to reality by a whistle and a sudden sharp pain. His right collarbone had been skewered by an arrow. He narrowly avoided falling out of the saddle as he screamed and clutched at the torn flesh. Blood immediately pulsated into the palm of his hand.

Thankfully, the prince's body reacted by leaning forward and to the side, making him a much more difficult mark to hit. Instead of attempting to directly finish the job, the next arrow lodged itself into the wyvern's neck. Pantea roared with agony and immediately began to lose lift.

Khalid glanced back to find who was targeting him. Someone still had a bow drawn in his direction, but Pantea's erratic movements made it impossible to take a clean shot. The enemy soon had to break off the attack after being targeted himself. Khalid's senses were in too much shock to make out facial details at that distance, but the colors adorning the enemy wyvern identified the assailant as a member of the royal family. That was enough information for Khalid- he had been struck by his cousin Darius. It was all too easy to imagine Darius's smug grin.

Pantea was fatally wounded, but she served dutifully until the very end. She nearly went into a freefall after the hit, but she steadied herself and found the balance to slip into a glide. Unfortunately, the rate of descent accelerated, and Khalid was in no state to address the problem. His feet began to slip out of the stirrups, and his arms flailed in the wake turbulence.

Pantea's trajectory just so happened to be aimed in the path of a rogue elephant that was still loose behind Elam's lines. Two dead bodies were slumped in its howdah, equally unable to prevent the impending disaster.

The cool breeze fanned Khalid's face, its reverberation drowning out the rest of the battlefield… it was almost a peaceful way to welcome whatever waited beyond death. Khalid knew it was not quite right to accept this, but his body lacked the strength to resist.

Khalid was shaken from his stupor not by the embrace of eternal sleep, but by the pressure of someone grasping his left hand. It was difficult to not be drawn back to attention when his wyvern slid out from under him while he remained suspended in midair by one arm. His gaze turned upwards to see Satiah straining to hold him while simultaneously not tipping off her wyvern.

It was a heroic effort, but Satiah did not have the strength to support his full weight for long. There was also not enough time to redirect his course before he would collide with the elephant. She wisely released Khalid at the last moment, lest she would have been thrown off her wyvern along with him.

Satiah had successfully decelerated Khalid's fall, even if she could not prevent it altogether. While he was originally on track to collide with the elephant's belly and perhaps end up under its hind feet, the scenario changed when his wyvern crashed into the elephant's legs at full force alone. The elephant fell to its knees and began to tilt to its side. Khalid hit the howdah feet first, violently and painfully splintering several boards on one side. He landed inside the seat with a grunt.

His stint in the howdah did not last long. Khalid groaned as the elephant continued to tip over, eventually sending him sprawling onto the ground in a cloud of dirt. One of the bodies rolled on top of him, and their pools of blood began to amalgamate. At least he had avoided being crushed.

Khalid squirmed free and looked up. His vision and thinking were strained, but he was certain that Satiah was nowhere to be seen. Surely she would not just abandon him… right? Unless there was someone else nearby…

"Khalid! Khalid, how bad is it?" Dimitri questioned as he dropped his lance and knelt beside his lord.

Khalid raised himself to his elbows and knees without aid. He grimaced between labored breathes.

"I'm hurt, but I'm with you," he managed to exhale.

"Let me help you up. We need to get you to Marianne."

"Wait! Could you first… umm…" Khalid motioned his head to the elephant behind him, which was also making agonizing gasps. It was too late to save the magnificent creature who, like the wyverns, did not deserve to get caught up in human squabbles.

"Right…" Dimitri said softly as he gripped his lance again. Khalid did not watch, but he heard the swing and the quick end to the creature's pain.

"Come on now," Dimitri pleaded as he returned to Khalid's side.

As they hobbled back towards the command tent, Khalid felt blood beginning to soak his outfit. Much of it did not come from his own wound, but rather from where Dimitri supported him.

"Is… any of that yours?" Khalid asked.

Dimitri glanced down at the blood drenching every inch of his clothing. "… I don't think so. I was told to clean up the last of the elephants. It's why I found you so fast, and why there's so much blood." Dimitri's voice faltered some when he mused, "I understand why it needs to be done, but… it's ugly business."

Khalid nodded and uttered weakly, "I'm sorry you had this job… sorry that you've gotten caught up in any of this at all. I mean it."

Dimitri glanced at the prince from the corner of his eye. "It's not your fault, Khalid."

"It is, though," Khalid disputed. He sensed tears beginning to well up. He would normally never do such a thing, but the trial he had just undergone robbed him of his composure.

Dimitri frowned. "Please… relax, my friend."

Marianne was among a group of healers and doctors positioned outside of the command tent. When she saw Khalid and Dimitri, she quickly finished with her current patient and rushed out to assist them. Marianne unleashed a salvo of questions that Dimitri answered while Khalid nodded and promised he was fine.

Khalid remembered very little of the minutes that followed other than a lingering sensation of dread and torture. When he came to, the arrow had been removed, and his shoulder was awash with the nostalgic glow of a healing spell. He was propped up on a mat with a small pillow.

"He'll be fine, won't he?" Dimitri asked, who was now somewhat cleaned from his crimson bath.

"Yes. His battle is over, though," Marianne determined.

"Right. I should be going, then."

Only two or three elephants were still alive, and they had run so far away by this point that they no longer posed a threat. Hopefully they would continue their race to freedom. Dimitri jogged to the frontlines rather than pursue them further.

Khalid put his left hand over his face and bemoaned, "I'm sorry to be a deadweight. I let Darius get the better of me again. That's what I get for trying to micromanage the entire field."

"No, it's okay," Marianne comforted. "You've done enough today, Claude. Your plan worked."

Suddenly aghast for wallowing in self-pity, Khalid opened his eyes and asked, "How was it? Did you or Ariella cast the spell?"

"It was me. But… I hope I never have to do anything like that again. The noise was, umm… unpleasant."

Khalid produced a crooked smile. "No guarantees. No one is going to forget this trick, though, so it's unlikely we'd manage to pull it off twice. Your ears are probably safe." After pausing to cough, he continued, "Ella is going to be disappointed that she didn't get to cast it herself, even if she won't admit it. She was so eager to put all that training to use."

His grin quickly vanished, and his muscles tensed. "Wait… Where is Ella? Or my mother, for that matter?"

Marianne's worried expression was alarming. She articulated, "I-I'm sorry. Your mother left for the frontlines right before you got here … after the wyverns went down, she said she couldn't bear to watch and do nothing any longer. Ariella went with her." Both of them turned their gaze to the ongoing battle. "… She might use that magic after all. B-but don't worry, the Shakiriyya accompanied them."

The Shakiriyya had failed to prevent an arrow from lodging itself in Khalid's shoulder, so despite Marianne's assurances, his unease was not exactly allayed.

The two armies were equally matched. Elam and Shomal had a slight numerical advantage, but the Tabarzin had the more experienced soldiers. The failure of both the elephant and the wyvern charges boosted the confidence of Faruq's allies; however, the possibility of defeat prompted the Tabarzin warriors to fight with fearsome desperation. The king's forces soon controlled the air, but Tabarzin archers kept them from routing the enemy lines.

"You should be okay," Marianne finally said as she applied bandages over his shoulder. "We can go over it again later to try reducing the scar tissue."

"Good," Khalid applauded as he began to stand. "In that case, I sho-."

Marianne immediately sat him back down. "Under no circumstance! I need to look after other patients, but you need to stay here. I-I mean it!"

She had a point. Khalid instantly felt lightheaded upon standing, so he reluctantly agreed to rest. Since when did Marianne express herself with such authority… to an Almyran prince, no less?

Watching the battle was boring in some regards as it dragged out in a predictable pattern. One army would give up a little ground, rally, and then push their opponents back. Even so, it was impossible to look away. Someone would eventually fail to rally, and the battle would end. And until that time, people would continue to suffer. Wounded soldiers fell back for relief in a steady stream. Khalid knew many of the victims. The most high-profile of these was Agha Demetrius, who was rendered a coughing mess after being bludgeoned both to the side of the head and in the ribs. Multiple healers attended to him, which unfortunately left fewer available for everyone else.

Mother, Dimitri, Ariella… it was only a matter of time before one of them suffered a similar fate… or worse. Khalid was deeply skeptical of relying on prayer as anything more than emotional support, but with no better option available, he decided it was worth a try- not only for victory, but also the safety of the people important to him. If nothing else, perhaps it could provide him a bit of emotional support, too.

His eyes were still closed when the echo of clapping hooves steadily grew louder, eventually reaching the volume of thunder. One of the cavalries had routed the other and returned to support the infantry. Which cavalry that was would likely prove to be the decisive factor in the battle's outcome. Khalid opened his eyes.

The charging cavalry bore the standards of Elam and Shomal.

Khalid exhaled a sigh of relief and grabbed a shield resting nearby. He needed both arms to use the bow, but he could conservatively defend himself with just his left arm and a shield.

Despite allegedly having other patients to look after, Marianne somehow pounced on Khalid immediately.

"W-wait, Claude! What are you doing? You ca-"

Khalid pointed forward and rationalized, "I'm feeling better, and we have all the momentum! I'll keep out of anything too dangerous, I promise. But I need to make our friends are okay."

Marianne glanced in the indicated direction. "They're… retreating?" she muttered in confusion.

That was actually news to Khalid. He turned his head again. Indeed, Marianne was correct. A portion of the Tabarzin army was withdrawing as their remaining wyverns and archers provided cover.

"Huh… you're right," Khalid acknowledged. "That was quicker than expected. It's the correct call, though."

"But I thought Almyrans abhorred retreating from a worthy foe…"

"It's a technicality. It's what we would call an honorable withdraw. Look closely. Some of the army is retreating, but the rest is continuing the fight."

"Honorable withdraw… is that, umm… just an excuse?"

Khalid laughed good-naturedly. "You'd usually have a point, but I don't think this is Uncle Ghalib trying to save himself. He's too stubborn for that. It's more likely that he's sending Darius back to continue the cause should the mirza fall."

Darius would survive to fight another day, so Khalid would get another chance to exchange the arrow put into his shoulder with a gift of his own. It was too early to establish Abbas's fate, but he was likely fleeing alongside his cousin. The Tabarzin would benefit from keeping such a valuable asset alive.

Marianne finally sighed and permitted, "Well… I still don't think it's a good idea, but I can't stop you. Please be safe."

She had little reason to worry, as it increasingly looked like the fighting would end before Khalid could even reach it. The cavalry had completed a full encirclement of the remaining Tabarzin forces, and the noose tightened with each passing second.

Khalid scanned the mass of figures for anyone he recognized. Despite the number of people to consider, it was easy to identify Areadbhar's radiance. In a stroke of fortune, Ariella and Queen Tiana were also with Dimitri. When they noticed Khalid push his way through the crowd, Ariella dashed to help him forward. She might have hugged him without thinking had she not seen the bandages.

"Khalid! Thank goodness you're alright! B-but what are you doing here? Dimitri sai-."

"I'll be fine, Ella."

"But-."

It was Queen Tiana who interrupted her this time. "He's a grown man. If he wants to see this, it's his right."

Hostilities had all but come to a stop. The Tabarzin resistance was in tatters, and any additional killing would have been gratuitous. Mirza Ghalib stood at the forefront of his army, his posture resolute despite the circumstances.

The cavalry had been crucial to the victory. In recognition of this, its commander Anthony was allowed the honors. He urged his horse forward and aimed his bow at the mirza.

"It's over, Mirza Ghalib. Enough blood has been shed. Tell your forces to yield," Anthony ordered.

Ghalib glanced behind him, as if questioning whether he had bought enough time for Darius's withdraw. After coming to a decision, he commanded bitterly, "Do as he says. Lay down your arms."

The Tabarzin soldiers traded nervous glances. Only a few obeyed the order.

"Now!" Ghalib bellowed.

That was enough to convince them. Soon, only the mirza himself stood with a sword and shield in hand.

"… That goes for you, too, Your Highness," Anthony reminded.

Ghalib snarled. "Why? So you can parade me through Istakhr in shackles like a lame horse dragging a chariot around the Hippodrome? … No. I've lived as a warrior, and I will die as one. So… who will do me this favor? Who is willing to face me in combat?" When he noticed Dimitri, he clarified, "One of our own people, mind you."

Queen Tiana spoke up, "I would have welcomed the opportunity had you not been so eager for it. It's not that I'm scared of you, brother, but after what you did to Faruq, I'm not interested in stroking your ego like this. I probably don't qualify as 'one of our own people' in your eyes, anyways."

His request was otherwise met with silence. Their most intrepid warriors might have welcomed the invitation prior to the actual battle, but no one relished the prospect of facing the mirza in a duel to the death when the conflict was already won. Their probable demise would be remembered with mockery, not respect.

"Prince Khalid is here. Isn't he the one you wanted to fight?" someone suggested.

Khalid had made his way near the front, so everyone turned in his direction. Ghalib squinted at Khalid's injuries with a preceptive eye.

"Khalid?" Ghalib laughed as he shook his head. "He wouldn't agree to it, and frankly, I don't care anymore. He's not worth my time. Find me someone worthy of crossing blades with."

It looked increasingly likely that they would be forced to swarm and execute Ghalib if he truly refused to yield, but a voice suddenly spoke from the crowd.

"Then how about me?" Nader invited as he stepped forward. "I struck down Sardar Meysam all those years ago. Does that not make me just as responsible for your supposed setbacks as Faruq?"

Ghalib gawked at him in surprise for just a second before smiling. "I thought we'd never get the chance to duel again, old friend. It's a little late in the battle for us to qualify as Mubarizun, but that's no matter. Grand Agha Nader… I accept your challenge."

Khalid jumped to his mentor's side and grabbed his arm to stop the madness before it was too late. He asked, "Nader, what are you doing? You don't have to agree to this!"

Nader returned Khalid's gaze with a glimmer in his eye. "I know that, kiddo. But… I sure as heck want to. Ghalib is right about one thing- this needs to end here. He and I both need this." He then looked to the queen and asked, "Any objections, Your Majesty?"

Tiana shook her head. "The choice is yours."

And thus, the folly would go unchecked. Khalid could always step in if Nader neared defeat, but the grand agha would never forgive him for it. It would be regarded as a permanent dishonor for everyone involved.

Khalid felt rather helpless as he shuffled back to his friends and mother. He noticed that his two retainers were holding hands to steady themselves. Ella asked with her eyes if Khalid wished to join them. He nodded, and the three stood united in their embrace.

Nader and Ghalib tossed aside their shields and removed their armor while troops began to lead the other Tabarzin prisoners away. As this went on, Ghalib noted, "I was worried about you, Nader. When you stopped paying me visits, I thought you lost your nerve after your encounter with the Goneril boy… that you had become too soft, like Faruq. I'm glad to see that I was wrong. So why did you stop? Did your conscience object? Maybe you regretted being away from your daughter?"

"It's a long story, Ghalib. I think everyone here would rather see you dead before having to wait through it all," Nader contended.

Ghalib laughed. "You were always boastful, but we both know that the notion of the 'undefeated' Nader is nothing but a myth… one that I will soon make readily apparent."

"We'll see, my friend. But before I kill you... could you kindly offer up a confession for your conspiracy in the Mikdash? That'll make everything that comes after this a lot simpler for everyone."

"I'm not confessing to anything," Ghalib scoffed.

Nader proposed, "You can put it in writing if that'd make it easier. I'll take it off your body if I win, and you won't have to live with the shame. If you prevail, you get to keep it and pretend you just drew a pretty picture."

Ghalib shook his head and lifted his blade. "Enough talking, Nader. Now… are you ready to settle this or not?"

Nader answered by flourishing his shamshir, which also served as one final stretch.

The two men circled each other, carefully scrutinizing the other's stance. Despite their reputations, they were surprisingly patient. When the swings did come, they came with vicious speed. Khalid could not keep track of each cut, but he heard four rings of connecting blades.

The last motion of the set was different. Instead of a typical cut, Ghalib adjusted and made a thrust. Nader made a frantic attempt to dodge it, but it still nicked the side of his abdomen.

"A thrust? With a sword like that?" Nader cackled through his teeth. "You've been taking notes from your dreaded enemies from Fódlan, haven't you?"

Straight blades that were better suited for thrusting were common in Saba, and Ghalib had undoubtedly studied Saba's techniques. The Tabarzin also maintained stockpiles of arming swords for their battles against the western neighbors. Still, he chose against denying the accusation.

"Only a fool wouldn't," Ghalib surprisingly replied.

Ghalib thought Nader needed more time to recover, so he was caught off guard when his opponent engaged again immediately. This exchange ended with Ghalib backing away with his left shoulder gouged open. Unfortunately, it was not his sword hand.

The two men were too focused to speak further at this critical point. When they reengaged, Nader grasped Ghalib's right wrist. Nader had counted on his opponent's left arm being disabled, which meant he could finish the mirza off after neutralizing his weapon.

Nader had miscalculated. Having anticipated such a strategy, Ghalib swiftly and heavily landed a punch against Nader's jaw with his left fist using pure force of will. Nader reeled back, and Ghalib managed to slice open the grand agha's thigh as he stumbled.

Nader spun around, loosened his grip on his sword, and fell onto all fours. He was completely vulnerable. However, Ghalib's own injury momentarily delayed him before he could pounce forward for a final vertical strike to the rear of the head. This gave Nader just enough time to shift into a reverse grip on his hilt and thrust blindly behind his back.

It was a desperate attack that would have sealed Nader's fate should it miss. It was not even a particular powerful thrust.

And yet, in his eagerness for victory, Ghalib never predicted it. Nader's blade drove deep into the mirza's gut, aided by Ghalib's forward momentum. The curve of the shamshir assured that multiple organs were lacerated.

Ghalib lurched back as he hopelessly tried to stem the surge of blood. Nader rolled over, and the two men gazed at each other in astonishment.

"Well… there's my answer," the mirza said calmly with subtle ironic smile. He then dropped his sword, staggered, and crumbled into a heap. He did not move again.

The assembled crowd did not cheer as Nader wiped and sheathed his blade. Everyone understood that they had just witnessed a duel that would be retold for centuries. Speaking out would have violated the sanctity of the moment.

Amidst the silence, Nader limped to the queen and asked, "What should we do with him, Your Majesty?"

Tiana stared at the body of her brother-in-law and commanded softly, "Bury him and mark the location for now. I will speak to Faruq. Knowing him, he will let any of Ghalib's surviving children take the remains once the war ends."

Nader nodded and passed the order on to some of his soldiers. Tiana and Ariella went on ahead to the command tent, while Khalid and Dimitri supported Nader on the journey there. The three of them made for a sorry sight.

"How badly are you hurt?" Khalid asked.

Nader smiled, but it was pained. "More than I'd care to admit. But… at least it's over."

"Not exactly. Darius escaped with enough of the army to still pose a threat."

"Enough to justify not surrendering, but not enough to realistically launch another invasion like this. That means I'll have time to heal up before we deal with them again."

The situation was more complex than that. With Ghalib dead, it would be that much more difficult to clear Khalid's name for the ambush in the Mikdash. Did Darius or Youtab know the truth? Were they even still alive?

As they neared their destination, Nousha ran out to meet them. She looked vaguely relieved to realize Khalid had not perished after his fall from the sky, but she was more concerned about her father.

"Look at you!" she uttered with alarm. "Are you alright? What happened?"

Nader swore, "I'm fine. Just a few scratches from a duel with the mirza."

"A… duel? But why?" Nousha asked in dismay.

"Because Ghalib asked. The mirza is dead," Khalid confirmed.

This development earned a response, but Nousha quickly shook her head and said, "That's great, but agreeing to a duel is still mind-numbingly reckless! The battle was already won! What were you thinking?"

Nader remarked offhandedly, "Probably nothing at all, if I had to guess."

"This isn't funny, father!" Nousha exclaimed angrily.

"Easy, Nousha!" Nader calmed, seemingly surprised by her reaction. "I'm fine. I promise."

"But you almost died for your pride! Do you have any idea how stupid that is?" She put her hand over her mouth and mumbled, "I can't have you die on me like that. I just can't."

"Why? Because you still need my blessing for you to be named the next grand agha?"

His words cut as deep as his sword had. Nousha backed away slowly. "T-that's, but…" Her face then set into a deep frown. "You never understood me, father. Oh, I'm sure you liked the idea of doing so! But at the end of the day, you're just like him. You'd never let family get in the way of a good fight."

Nousha stormed away without waiting for a reply. Khalid and Dimitri looked at each, both uncomfortable with how the conversation had ended. The youngest prince of Almyra actually agreed with most of Nousha's concerns, but he was not ready to call Nader out for it.

"… Find me a healer," Nader requested with a remorseful tone, ending any hopes of addressing what happened.

Khalid and Dimitri left Nader with Marianne and then walked through the rest of the wounded. Despite Almyra having a habit of glorifying death on the battlefield after the fact, there were no songs of heroes being written that day. Every word spoken and action taken was imbued with sorrow. Many of Elam's generals were dead, especially among those in the infantry. Nader's rationale for transferring Nousha to the wyvern corps had become abundantly obvious.

The pair located Ariella sitting beside Demetrius. The general was in decent spirits despite his injuries. He joked to his apprentice that she now had an ideal test subject for trying out healing spells. After a short visit, the three of them pressed on together. They soon came upon James, who sat with a vacant expression. Theodora was next to the prince crying over a still body. The victim was obvious despite being covered by a blanket to hide some horrible wound.

"Amin fell," James told them with a weak voice. "… I've lost two retainers now. I knew this road would exact a price, but…" James glanced at Dimitri and Ariella and then back at his brother. "Count your blessings, Khalid… you might not get the chance next time."

James's caution rang true. Khalid's three retainers were unharmed. His mother had nary a scrape. Farjad was speaking with Satiah not far away. Senusret was helping move the wounded.

Khalid's fortune was remarkable. He nodded and told James and Theodora, "I'm sorry for your loss."

Everyone seemed to be accounted for. Khalid was going to suggest they assist the wounded in any needed capacity, but he stopped when he saw the broken expressions on both Dimitri and Ariella's faces. He took them aside, pulled them into a sudden hug, and asked, "How are you feeling?"

Dimitri shook his head sorrowfully. "I never agreed with Almyran accusations that Fódlan's soldiers are cowards. I still don't. But… I admit that I've never witnessed resolve like I encountered today. They abandoned all regards for their own survival and sacrificed everything for their leader and his cause, however wrong it was. I suppose it shook me up a bit, but… I'll be fine."

"And you, Ella?"

Ariella looked away and mumbled, "I used a spell today. And… I k-killed someone with it… Those empty eyes… and the realization that it was my doing…"

Khalid pulled her into another hug as two quick sobs emanated from her chest.

"How did it come to this? Why does it ever need to come to this?" she asked.

The only answers Khalid could think of were platitudes that Ariella was too intelligent to be swayed by. Instead of saying anything, he maintained the embrace until her body began to calm.

"I'm going to try helping with the wounded," Khalid finally said. "But if either of you need some time to think, I'd understand."

Whatever Khalid had done must have worked, as both Dimitri and Ariella agreed to join him. While he looked for someone who could provide him with a job, however, Khalid froze when someone else pulled him into a hug. She took care to avoid aggravating his injuries.

"M-mother?"

Tiana sighed as she ruffled her son's hair. "I haven't been a very good parent if that's your reaction to my touch, is it?"

Indeed, his mother had not shown such open affection since he was a child. She could be warm and affable, but never so… motherly. Was this unexpected turnaround a long time coming, or was it a snap reaction to watching her brother-in-law and countless others die?

Still…

"No, I was just surprised," Khalid justified. "I don't want to hear you saying stuff like that about yourself, though. You raised me to be more independent than most, sure, but I wouldn't have survived through my trials in Fódlan had you not."

"Maybe so. You've grown into a wise and strong man, Khalid. But… while your father and I wanted you to learn to stand for yourself, we pictured you dealing with siblings and nobles who couldn't accept who you were. We didn't have something as horrible as this in mind. And to think you've already seen such sights in Fódlan!" Tiana pulled away from the embrace to look her son in the eyes… eyes that matched her own. She soothed, "You don't always have to be the strong one. It's okay to cry sometimes."

Khalid did not cry, but he did pull her back into a hug. "Thank you, mother. And… I love you."

Author's Notes: I just saw a few hours after posting this chapter that Billy Kametz has passed away. I loved his work as Ferdinand, as well as in many other roles. It sounds like he was loved deeply by the people who knew him, and I will be praying for all of them to find some sense of peace or comfort in the face of such unfair times.

Rest in peace, Billy, and thanks for bringing a smile to the faces of so many.