Chapter 33

Day 26 of the Horsebow Moon, Year 1152 (Fódlan Calendar)

Nader chuckled between labored breaths as he backed away from his sparring opponent. He usually had the advantage in a sword or fist fight, but Prince Faruq had landed a crippling blow on his stomach this time. Faruq was more effective on the ground, and it looked like the match was headed that direction if Nader could not find his balance.

"Finish him, Faruq!" Prince Ghalib cheered as he spectated from the arcade around the Dunya Palace's training grounds.

Ghalib got his wish. Nader was sent sprawling on his next swing, and though he was growing familiar with Faruq's ground fighting strategies, the prince eventually seized victory after pinning Nader in an armlock.

"That was a close one," Faruq said as he stretched out a hand to his felled opponent.

"Not close enough," Nader grumbled as he accepted the help to his feet. His father was the grand agha, and he would likely inherit that position someday. In the meantime, Faruq had taken him on as a personal retainer. How could he protect the prince and push him to grow stronger if Faruq was already the superior fighter?

Nader tried to mask his soreness as he and Faruq rejoined the youngest prince. Ghalib began to praise his brother in Elam's dialect, but Faruq held out a hand and interrupted, "Easy there, Ghalib. Remember what language we're trying to practice?"

"Do I really need to?" Ghalib complained, reluctantly switching over to the tongue of Fódlan and Meteora.

Faruq rationalized, "It'd be distracting if we're trying to immerse ourselves and you're off speaking an entirely different language. And besides, it's good practice for you, too. Uncle Qalawun can speak it, and you'll be expected to do the same when you become mirza."

"When I become mirza?" repeated a flustered Ghalib. "But father hasn't named an heir… Did he tell you something in secret that I should know about?"

"No, but he'll choose the strongest of us. And let's face it- you've never actually beaten me in a fight, Ghalib," Faruq teased.

"But you're older and taller! We're going to have a fair fight once I'm your size, and when we do, count on me remembering all these times you gave me so much grief!"

"I have the size advantage on your brother, and that didn't do me much good," Nader observed self-deprecatingly. "By the way… you claim you want Faruq to lose so badly, yet you always take his side when I'm sparring with him. Very cold, little prince."

"Good point. Is my retainer that repugnant to you?" Faruq piled on.

Ghalib chuckled some. "No, no, that's just because only I'm allowed to beat Faruq! Anyone else doing it would make them Almyra's worthiest ruler instead of me."

"If you two don't grow past these petty arguments, don't be surprised if father names me heir instead," a girl's voice said.

Princess Maysun carried a bowl of grapes as she took a break from her studies. She was the same age as Nader, wedged between the births of Faruq and Ghalib. She was not fit, and her personality was not particularly compatible with Nader. Still, he had a healthy respect for her intelligence. He was lucky to know her at all; until recent years, it would have been unthinkable for a princess to roam outside the harem.

"Oh, come on, Maysun," Ghalib scoffed. "A girl has never been nominated heir over her brothers. I'm not convinced you even know how to hold a sword!"

"Did King Harun slay Romanos with a quill when he took the crown? I'm guessing not," Faruq joked in agreement.

Maysun smiled levelheadedly. "No, but Harun died three years later by courtesy of a festered cut. He tried subduing persistent revolts with a sword, but our kingdom was truly built by his only daughter. Queen Karima used a quill to enact reforms that stabilized the realm for over fifty years. Now… who do you think was greater ruler?"

The boys all looked at each other and said in unison, "King Harun."

The princess sighed with exhaustion and muttered, "You three really are incorrigible."

Nader had no idea what "incorrigible" meant, but it presumably was not a compliment. In his defense, the royal family was tutored in the language, while Nader had only started picking it up in earnest recently. He and Faruq had spent the summer under the tutelage of Mirza Qalawun, and Faruq's uncle was tolerant of their frequent nightly escapades into Fódlan by wyvern.

Despite her annoyance, Maysun's mouth twisted into a smile when she added, "Though I suppose I do have a bit of hope for you, Faruq. You might find your priorities adjusting with this new baby."

King Bardiya had announced the impeding birth of Faruq's first child a week prior. The mother was a member of the royal harem that Nader had never even met. It was customary that the princes start producing heirs at a young age, and Faruq was undoubtedly a flirt. Still, Nader found it difficult to accept that his best friend was about to be a father.

The elder prince tried to make sense of Maysun's logic before confessing, "I mean… I'll make sure the baby is raised well, but I don't see how that implies my sword will start gathering dust. If Karima was as incredible as you make her sound, then Harun managed to be both a great warrior and a father."

"A great daughter does not imply a great father, if Karima's poems are any indication of her feelings," Maysun replied. She then turned to the other boys. "But anyways, I assume you two will also have kids someday. You can still do some of this silly sparring, but you'll eventually have to choose between your family and your endless pursuit for glory. You won't have the time or energy for both."

"Having Kids? Eww, I don't think so. I don't even really like girls. … No offense, Maysun," Ghalib refuted. He was only twelve, so such a response was not surprising.

Unlike the youngest prince, Nader feared Maysun was probably right. He was already rather smitten with a girl he grew up near in Istakhr, and she seemed fond of him, too. If they got married… the children would probably soon follow.

"And you, Nader? Will you be ready to make a choice, or do you still think girls are gross?" Maysun inquired.

Nader refused to reveal any hesitation, so he laughed with manufactured confidence. "I'm with Prince Faruq on this one. I don't get why having a family means we need to throw all our dreams away. Please don't underestimate us, Your Highness."

Maysun smiled thinly, tossed a grape in her mouth, and began to walk away. "I guess we'll see."

Interlude: The Undaunted – Day 30 of the Great Tree Moon, Year 1187 (Fódlan Calendar)

For some reason, Nader found himself reflecting on the vague memory of that interaction following his duel with Ghalib. Princess Maysun was just as young and inexperienced as the boys back then, but the somewhat reductive question she posed ended up defining the course of the three men's lives quite well.

Faruq had his war and made a name for himself. However, he allowed his vision to stagnate to protect his family and what he had built.

Despite his adolescent objections, Ghalib ultimately fathered three children. However, the mirza's offspring were seemingly birthed only as a matter of obligation, and Ghalib never acted particularly interested in them beyond assessing what they could do on his behalf. His priorities remained squarely on warring and the throne.

As for Nader… he tried to have it both ways, just as he originally declared.

Faruq was a paraplegic, and the peace he fought so hard for had dissolved. Ghalib was dead, felled by Nader's blade. Was that enough evidence to claim that Nader had successfully threaded the needle through competing ambitions? He remained a capable warrior that could walk the battlefield, and he had proven it was unnecessary to dispose of his heart like Ghalib had. However, his recent military exploits mostly consisted of harassing border guards from Leicester, and the only family he had left was a daughter thoroughly unimpressed by him. Even his greatest achievement of defeating the mirza earned nothing but a scolding from Nousha. If excluding that, it was difficult to conclude he had achieved anything of true import in recent years.

Regarding Maysun, she had attained a comfortable life as the emira of Saba and showed little interest in the greater politics of Almyra beyond her territories. Saba was currently struggling with coastal raids, but Maysun still came out as the clear winner of the four. Had she perfected the balance? Did she just get lucky? Or was her thought experiment not that profound to begin with?

Nader had spent the nocturnal march pondering these questions, but recent developments had forced him to push such thought aside. The grand agha and his strike force had sheltered overnight in a secluded grove approximately a couple of miles away from the Basilica of Saint Alexis. He now crouched at the edge of the woods alongside Dimitri and Anthony listening to the sound of distant cannon fire. Elam's army had no plans to move cannons into enemy territory until Metanoiapolis was under siege, so they knew enemy artillery was responsible.

"It's mostly coming from the west, but some of it sounds more like the north or south. I think the noise is echoing off the Pinnacula, which makes it difficult to pinpoint," Anthony reasoned.

Dimitri noted, "That means either of the other divisions could be under attack. It makes no sense, though. They couldn't have moved cannons into position that quickly."

"Not unless the Meteorans designed some with improved mobility while we were busy pretending to do so," Nader grunted.

They kept a vigilant watch for any signs of movement, but no conclusions were drawn. Finally, a mass of dark objects appeared in the sky above the horizon. It was the wyvern corps, albeit a little behind schedule.

Nousha tried to make up for lost time as she quickly dismounted her wyvern and rushed over to where Nader, Anthony, and Dimitri had stepped out from the brush.

Nader grinned and began, "Well, Nousha, I've never seen you in such a hurry to greet your old ma-."

"Shut up, father; this isn't the time," his daughter interrupted swiftly, successfully resetting the tone of the rendezvous. "The Meteoran army is headed this way, and quickly. They're firing those cannons so the sound of their actual advance will get lost in all the meaningless noise. One of those explosions wasn't a cannon, though. It looked like they blew up the bridge you crossed over to get here. They must have set up explosives early this morning."

"How many are we tal-."

"It's their entire damn army, father."

Nader's smile immediately evaporated. "You've alerted Her Majesty of the situation?"

"I sent messengers that way, of course. The rest of the wyvern corps is here to support you. Even with us, they've still got a substantial numerical advantage."

"Then we need to find a defendable position until reinforcements arrive. What's our best option?"

Nousha replied, "We're short on choices other than the hill behind you."

Nader had taken a walk around the woods at first light to get his bearings. The grove was carved out of a slice of a hill, with the opposite side of their current position rimmed by a moderate cliff. The trees were nurtured by a spring that drained out of the outcropping.

He observed, "Not only would we have the high ground, but the cliff will reduce the perimeter that we need to defend. And we won't get boxed in like we would down here."

"Just what I thought," Nousha agreed with a nod.

"Then take your wyverns and try to delay the enemy until we can reposition," Nader ordered. He turned to his other companions and said, "Come on. We can't waste time here."

While Nousha and the rest of the wyvern corps set out per his command, Nader jogged alongside Anthony and Dimitri back into camp. Anthony pondered aloud along the way, "How did they know we were here? And why give up their secure position to attack us? It's a matter of time before Her Majesty arrives."

"It doesn't matter. We only have time to focus on staying alive for now," Dimitri said as he untied a series of knots and unfurled his lance from a protective sheet of cloth. They had bundled it the prior night to ensure the light from its Crest Stone would not give away their location.

Aurelian's bold maneuver raised the possibility that the Meteorans had advantages available that Elam was unaware of, but Nader mostly agreed with Dimitri. No amount of energy could change events that already transpired, so their time would be better spent setting the course of upcoming events.

Everyone waiting at camp was already on edge due to the cannon fire, so they were eager for news when the grand agha returned. He shouted, "The entire Meteoran army is upon us! Leave behind anything you don't need in a fight and follow me. We're moving to the top of the hill just east of here. On the double now!"

The immediate aftermath of this announcement looked chaotic as soldiers dashed in every direction, seemingly retrieving or disposing items at random. There was a purpose to every action, though. All were armed and astride their horses when Nader waved for his army to follow him out of the grove.

Though called a "strike force" when compared against Tiana's main army, Nader's division was not small. His detachment numbered somewhere around one thousand cavalry, and that was before accounting for the added support from Nousha's wyverns. The lives of each one depended on Nader's leadership. As they rounded the rim of forest and charged up the hill, Nader glanced behind once they had enough elevation to peer over the treetops. Enemy cavalry could now be seen rapidly approaching.

"Faster now!" Nader urged his soldiers. Many were still drowsy and dazed, but they readily complied when they similarly turned around and grasped the need to hurry.

Units quickly organized into logical formations once they reached the apex of the hill under Nader and Anthony's guidance. Heavy cavalry would lead the frontlines to bear the brunt of the attack while the light archers would stay behind them to utilize the higher terrain with superior mobility. It was odd to stage a defense without fortifications or any infantry, though they could count on "infantry" being spawned over the course of the battle as compounding numbers of troops were unhorsed.

The army's leaders surveyed the preparations at the very back alongside the army's healers and field surgeons.

"Dimitri, you stay with me the whole time," Nader ordered as he leaned over to his companion.

Khalid's retainer was taken aback by this instruction. "With all due respect, General Nader, I fear my abilities will be wasted if I'm not amidst the action. I know Khalid told you to-."

"I'm not trying to shield you from battle," Nader interrupted. "What I have in mind is much more important than another lance on the frontlines. They're going to hit us with repeated assaults, and no matter how hard we resist, our line is will buckle at some place or another. It's going to be our job to plug the holes. I need you here with me so we can respond quickly. Sound good to you?"

"… Good enough," Dimitri allowed. He did not seem like someone ever enthusiastic for battle, so that was probably the best response Nader could hope for. Their partnership was mutually beneficial- Khalid wanted them both kept alive, and there was no one better suited to ensure that than each other. Nader technically had retainers of his own, but since they had a habit of trying to keep him out of the middle of the fighting, he usually sent them elsewhere. He left all of them with the queen's division this time.

The Meteoran cavalry soon paused on the opposite side of the grove. A group of figures presumably including Aurelian and other high-profile figures took a position here out of reach. They were joined by a collection of guards, mostly mounted archers intended to dissuade a wyvern assault. It seemed like excessive protection for a perfectly capable general. Was it possible that Sardar Justinian himself was overseeing the battle? Surely not. Regardless, Nader smiled upon reflecting that Elam's commanders would be granted no such safety.

The enemy infantry and archers had not yet arrived on the battlefield, but their cavalry was soon spurred up the slope with the blast of a horn. It was difficult to watch some of the action from behind the defensive line, but Nader could hear the first clashes of blades.

Since everyone was moving about on horseback, the situation looked significantly more fluid than it actually was. The Meteorans initially struggled to take advantage of their numerical superiority due to the formation and terrain that Nader's force had selected. The wyvern corps also served as a constant threat that foiled the enemy's ability to organize an effective plan. The whole affair was turning out rather boring for Nader.

Aurelian did make a clever adjustment, however. The rising sun blinded both man and beast that had the misfortune of facing its direction. Elam's archers similarly preferred targeting enemies that were not directly in the line of sight of the glare. With that in mind, Aurelian focused his efforts along the eastern arc of the defensive line where resistance was weakest. Nader thankfully caught on and ordered a concentration of troops in that area to neutralize the shortcoming.

No amount of quick thinking could completely undo the dire situation they had gotten themselves into, however. Nader and Dimitri eventually had to act when the line was breached on the northern end, and the fighting never let up from that point. The grand agha chortled at how much additional work he had to apply in comparison to Khalid's retainer. While Dimitri's lance cleaved right through armor, Nader needed multiple precise swings to find a weak point. Many of the enemy soldiers swerved to avoid Dimitri's reach, which sent them towards Nader instead. He did not mind the extra combat, but it felt foreign to be deemed the lesser threat. He needed a glowing weapon for himself to determine whom their foes fancied in an even matchup.

Nousha and Khalid both would have chided him for it, but Nader could not deny the thrill of battle. It was not merely a fight, but a desperate struggle for the right to survive. There was not a moment of complacency as arrows constantly sailed overhead. Energy coursed through his body with every breath. His raids on Fódlan's Throat rarely faced such high stakes and thus never provided this ecstasy on an equivalent magnitude.

Enough battles like this, however, and his luck would eventually run out. Nader glanced at his companion. He saw no excitement in Dimitri's expression- only resolve. What if he failed his promise to keep Dimitri safe? How would Khalid react? The youngest prince was capable of viciousness when provoked- such behavior usually surfaced while confronting his wayward brothers. When Nader discussed the naval campaign with Senusret, even the Protector of Shomal acknowledged Khalid's flirtations with savagery at Pyli Kyma. Nader did not want to enable Khalid's darker traits by permitting Dimitri to die.

Though Elam's forces benefited from the terrain in most regards, their position carried one serious flaw that Nader failed to account for - the grove below. Aurelian had his archers on foot stationed underneath the trees upon their arrival. These archers had clean shots at the vulnerable rear of Nader's army. The grand agha ordered some of his archers to target the grove, but it did not have much of an impact. The canopy concealed the location of the enemy archers and helped block the aimless arrows launched back in their general direction. It was a dark void that spit death and casually swallowed anything thrown its way.

The wyvern corps could not handle the situation in the forest, either, and was forced to linger on the opposite end of the battlefield to stay out of reach of the hidden archers. A resolution for the crisis would have to come from the ground.

Elam's line still held, but the attrition inflicted on their horses was starting to generate cracks in their defenses at an alarming rate. Nader and Dimitri were overtaxed by the needed repair work, and despite Nader having claimed to be fully healed, his abdomen and thigh were beginning to flare with aches where Ghalib had sliced him during their duel.

Nader had just fought back another breach and was wiping the gore on his blade onto his saddle when a man rode up behind him.

"Something has to be done about those archers," Anthony said. "They haven't built much depth into their formation. If I lead a sally and puncture their frontlines, we can quickly get down the hill and storm the forest."

"Absolutely not!" Nader rejected. "I know those archers are making our lives difficult, but we're putting heavy casualties on their cavalry, too. If we break formation, there's no putting it back together properly. We're holding our ground for now, but only just."

Anthony frowned but replied in a diplomatic tone, "Listen... I know you're confident that Her Majesty will come for us, but at this rate, all she's going to find are our arrow-ridden corpses."

"Alright, I get it; we need to try something," Nader admitted with annoyance. "How about this… send someone to speak with all our mages here and find one that knows fire magic. We'll have them lob spells into the forest and try to smoke those archers out of there."

"Even a talented mage would have difficulty pulling that off. Anyone here is likely too inexperienced to cast a spell strong enough to ignite anything that far below us," Dimitri advised.

Dimitri undoubtedly knew more about magic thanks to his education, but pessimism would achieve nothing other than eliminating their only idea that was not too reckless. "Do it anyways. If it doesn-."

Nader was cut off when the air filled with that awful whistling of arrows. His horse immediately staggered, and a shot of pain in his torso knocked the breath out of him. Nader used his remaining strength to roll away from his wounded stallion as it collapsed.

"General!" Anthony and Dimitri exclaimed in unison, both dismounting their horses to help him. Dimitri had received a minor flesh wound on his forearm, but Anthony had miraculously avoided being hit.

The arrow had pierced Nader's abdomen and driven in deep. He did not like heavy armor, and the strike force's desire for speed gave him a convenient excuse to go without it. He wore little more than a light jazerant that was unfortunately proven inadequate. The entire right side of his jacket was quickly absorbing blood to produce a shallow sea of crimson.

The pain amplified every time Nader inhaled. He was immediately nauseous, and lightheadedness was muddling his mental faculties. He had been injured plenty of times before, but it was usually from a blade and with far less penetration. Was this how Khalid felt at Merv?

"I-I'm fine. Just… keep going," Nader muttered as he tried to stand. He began to wobble before Dimitri caught and supported him.

"You're not fine at all, general. This wound looks rather grave," Dimitri observed.

Nader chuckled hoarsely. "You must have missed your calling in medicine with those kinds of insights."

He slew the Sardar of Shomal. He slew the Mirza of the Tabarzin. And now… he would greet death by invitation of a rogue arrow?

Nader the Undefeated. The historians would need to find a new appellation. Considering he only maintained it by virtue of calling off his raids on Fódlan's Throat before matters became too precarious, perhaps surrendering the honor was justified. The title was probably already a joke in Fódlan and parts of Almyra, and the finale to his story would just be the capper to the farce.

… No. His death would only be pathetic if he gave up, and he was not yet ready to say goodnight.

Dimitri led the grand agha to a makeshift field hospital at the rear. Everyone was overworked, but the nearest surgeon and magic healer immediately rushed to Nader's side. An assistant helped support the general while they surveyed the wound, freeing Dimitri to return to the fight. This aide also hoisted a large shield to provide cover from the barrage of arrows while the others worked.

The arrow had pierced Nader's jazerant and pinned it to his body, preventing the medics from seeing much of anything at first. Cutting through the internal mail was impossible, so they instead sliced off the back half of the arrow shaft and lifted the right flap of the punctured jacket over it to free access to the wound site.

"Lacerated liver for certain," the surgeon told the healer in a low voice. "Probably more. Hard to say."

Their efforts to keep Nader from overhearing the diagnosis were unsuccessful, but he kept quiet rather than call them out on it. When they continued to examine the injury at length without saying much more, he finally grunted, "So… what can you do for me?"

The young surgeon was clearly nervous to attend on someone so important. Though loathe to provide her opinion, she was confident of the prognosis. She explained, "There's no easy answer, general. I'd need to remove the arrow to stitch the wound. That can be arranged, but it would be incredibly dangerous without better equipment and a stable environmental. An extraction would cause even more damage to your organs, possibly fatal, and there's a good chance I'd lose the arrowhead. It's in there too deep."

Nader turned his gaze to the equally anxious healer. "If we pull it out, would you be able to rectify the damage in time?"

The healer bit his lip. "Very doubtful, sir."

"What if we leave the arrow in there and cast a healing spell around it? That could stem the flow of blood without doing more harm, right?"

The man explained, "Yes, sir, but the debris still must be removed. Healing over it will make it much more difficult to retrieve later."

That comment was clearly intended to bury the idea, but Nader's expression remained unmoved. The grand agha replied, "I wouldn't worry about that when making any decisions."

The healer, surgeon, and even their assistant all looked between each other uneasily. The healer's eyes pleaded for the general to reconsider when he muttered, "Sir…"

"I appreciate your advice, but I've seen and heard everything I need to form a verdict. Your general has given you an order. Now fulfill it."

The healer lowered his head and began to work. In the meantime, the surgeon cut down the remaining portion of the exposed arrow shaft to ease mobility around Nader's waist. When she continued to linger even once her usefulness was at its end, Nader insisted, "Staring at me while he's working won't accomplish anything. There are other people who need your help. Please see to them."

After she hesitantly bowed and left, Nader looked to the healer operating on him.

"What's your name, son?" Nader asked.

"Elnur. I'm originally from Khoy."

"You're a student of Marianne and Ariella, aren't you?"

"I am."

"Have they been good teachers?"

"Very good, sir." The man was probably trying to focus, but upon realizing that Nader was making conversation to distract from the pain, he elaborated, "Marianne is highly skilled. Ariella helps draw that knowledge out for us. We're not on their level yet, but I think we've come a long way. Considering how bad relations have gotten with the Meteorans, I say we ignore their complaints and open an official school of magic once the war is over."

Nader closed his eyes and smiled. The existence of such discourse was evidence that things were changing for the better in Almyra. Despite Khalid's fears of being hamstrung by the war and his position, the youngest prince and his retainers were undoubtedly having a positive impact. Nader observed, "I like the sound of that. No matter what happens to us, I think there's a bright future ahead for our people."

Elnur nodded, accepting Nader's solemn tone this time without question. "Yes… I think so, too." He then stepped away and cleared his throat. "I've done everything I can do. Try to limit how much you twist your body, or that arrowhead is going to carve up all the flesh around it. I… wish you the best, general."

"You, too. Thanks for keeping me company, Elnur. You as well, silent shield bearer," Nader grunted as he closed and straightened his jazerant. He was not someone to complain, but even the slightest movements aggravated everything in the vicinity of that cursed injury.

Despite the lingering pain, Nader was happy to get back into the action. At least, he was until he was greeted with absolute mayhem upon returning to the frontline. A sudden influx of wounded were being ushered away, and a crowd of exhausted riders had apparently just returned from a botched sally.

… Had they just tried to hunt down the archers?

Anthony's original claim that the Meteoran formation was not "deep" was true in that they did not leave a significant number of reserves pulled away from the main battle. The enemy instead preferred to keep the vast majority of the troops within a very dense frontline so that soldiers could be quickly rotated in and out. Consequently, while it was tempting to theorize that an initial breakthrough of the vanguard would be enough to earn an unimpeded ride down the hill, the Meteorans still had plenty of cavalry available to intercept at any time. It was only an illusion of vulnerability.

Nader did not have time to explain all of that before being injured, but he had trusted Anthony to adhere to his command. Because of that misjudgment, they had just suffered an unsustainable tally of losses.

The failed foray must have prompted a discussion about what to do next, as Nousha had landed her wyvern and was now debating with Anthony and Dimitri. The Commander of the Mobile Guard's dejected posture confirmed that he had ordered the attack.

Anthony's face brightened momentarily upon seeing an apparently healed Nader, but the reality of their situation quickly restored his morose expression.

"I'm sorry, general," he apologized. "The mages weren't even close to setting the forest ablaze, and we were losing horses so fast that I didn't think we'd have the capacity to lead a counterattack if I waited any longer. This is all my fault."

Truth be told, Nader was always suspicious of Anthony's leadership capabilities. It would be hypocritical to blame nepotism alone, considering that Nader had also benefited from it. More problematic was that while Nader was raised to be a warrior from birth, Anthony had spent the formative years of his life aiming towards a future as a scholar or a presbyter before suddenly being thrust into the role of a soldier. He was undoubtedly talented, but his heart was perhaps too soft for such a responsibility. His compassion for his suffering subordinates had just proved problematic.

Given the circumstances, however, it seemed unfair to completely blame Anthony. The queen's whereabouts remained unknown, and Anthony was correct that they needed living horses for a proper counterattack… or a retreat.

Nader answered, "It may have accelerated our timeline, but I don't think the end was going to look much different either way. You were right; we can't last under this barrage much longer."

"I'm sorry to ask, but should we consider a surrender?" Dimitri uttered. "It will save lives, and our wyvern corps can still escape."

Nader shook his head. "Even so, we're talking about the majority of our horses, a thousand of our best soldiers, the Grand Agha, the Commander of the Mobile Guard, and the Tempest of Fódlan. How am I supposed to explain that to the king and queen?"

"But this is about to turn into a massacre!" Dimitri insisted.

Nader processed his options. In a flash of understanding, he peered at a large structure in the distance. "No… We can still salvage much of this army."

"Is that a hypothetical, or do you have a plan?" Nousha asked.

"It's a plan," Nader confirmed. "We're only a short ride away from the Basilica of Saint Alexis. Anthony, withdraw the remaining cavalry from this battle and lead them there. Lay down your weapons and request sanctuary. You can shelter there until our reinforcements arrive. It can't be long."

"Everyone else is on the south bank of the Maritsa, and the Meteorans surely blew the bridge at their camp, too. It could be very long," Nousha reminded.

"Good point. They'll think of a solution, though. I pity any obstacle that stands in the way of Tiana and Khalid once they've set their minds on a goal. If the Meteorans weren't worried about the possibility, they would have waited until their unmounted units were assembled instead of rushing into battle."

"But do sanctuary laws even apply to us?" Anthony questioned frantically. "Very few among our army are Votaries."

"I don't know, and I doubt anyone else knows, either. But the deacons won't let them immediately swarm the basilica with the intent to kill. It should buy us some time while they figure out an extradition agreement."

"We have fewer horses than soldiers at this point," Dimitri pointed out. "Maybe a few horses can fit multiple riders, but what happens to the people left on foot?"

"It will be their task to delay the pursuers. They… won't make it to the basilica, so they will either be captured or fall. … Likely the latter for many," Nader admitted. "If they continue the fight, I guess we can call this an old-fashioned tactical withdraw instead of a retreat for anyone who cares about that hogwash."

Anthony asked uneasily, "Nader… why am I commanding the cavalry when we still have you here?"

When the grand agha did not answer immediately, he was prompted with a quick succession of "General…", "Sir…", and "Father…"

Nader sighed and answered, "Should we really expect these men and women to choose fighting to the death over surrender while their courageous leaders all flee for sanctuary? Of course not! They need to be led by someone they trust."

Anthony retorted, "Nonsense! We can't sacrifice the grand agha when we have other options. You're too important, Nader."

"I'll do it," Dimitri volunteered grimly. "A lot of people seem to believe I'm an unkillable monster- untrue, of course, but useful here. They'll feel safe with me leading, and I don't have much intrinsic value outside of a battle like you do."

Ignoring the humor of a crown prince claiming to be unimportant, Nader rejected, "You all would have me steal someone else's horse so I can escape? No, it needs to be me. I bear responsibility for what's happened here as commander. There's… more than that, though." Nader reopened his jazerant to show the truncated arrow shaft still puncturing his torso. "I don't think I have long left either way."

Nousha stared at him with her mouth agape, seemingly struggling to process any of what she was seeing or hearing. The entire incident must have been news to her. She probably thought the bloodstains came from someone else.

The other men were of course aware of the grand agha's injury, but they were taken aback to see that his medical treatment was only a half measure. Nader's comment confirmed the worst. Dimitri's face turned ashen in realization, but he remained silent.

"Sir… I…" Anthony muttered softly.

"Nothing needs to be said. I just need orders to be followed," Nader stopped.

That might have put an end to the debate were it not for a new development. Dimitri abruptly pointed to western sky and said grimly, "Everyone… we have another problem."

Nader squinted into the distance and saw something that he would have liked to wish away.

Wyverns. Not an insurmountable number of them, but there were enough. And based off Nousha's reaction, these wyverns were not the messengers she sent to the queen. They were still a long distance away, but they were headed towards the battlefield.

"B-but how?" Nousha stuttered.

"They must have been housing them down in the caves this whole time, waiting for the perfect opportunity to strike," Nader reasoned. They ought to have given that possibility more consideration, but a wyvern outfit of that size would not have posed a serious threat under most circumstances. They had played right into Aurelian's hands.

"If so, they've almost certainly intercepted our messengers! The queen may have no idea any of this is happening," Anthony lamented.

Nader assuaged, "Even if the message didn't get through, the fact that our wyverns never arrived at all would be evidence enough that something was amiss. Her Majesty's division is probably already on its way. But yes…we still need get the news over so they'll be equipped with the details."

"What's our move here?" Dimitri asked.

"I need you and Anthony to focus on getting the cavalry ready. Nousha and I will devise a plan for this new problem," Nader ordered.

The two men left to fulfill the directive, so Nader redirected his attention to Nousha. His daughter was behaving almost delirious ever since she saw his injury, but she snapped to when Nader put a hand on her shoulder.

He told her, "Those wyverns will do anything and everything to slow you down if you head directly for Queen Tiana. Instead, try to draw them away as a distraction. Make a wide arc to the north so it looks like you're trying to outflank them. Hold a subset of our wyverns back here, and we'll send them to deliver the message once they're distracted with the main group. The messengers should take a flight around the south, using the Pinnacula for cover. Make sure there's enough to defend themselves in case a few more enemy wyverns are lurking around."

"And then what? Does the main group engage the enemy wyverns in earnest?"

"If you focus on battling instead of trying to get around them, they'll realize they're no longer providing any tactical advantage and back off. The best way to get them completely off the field would be to pretend you've been routed and flee in disorder. They might actually pursue you, which means our secondary group will have air supremacy over the vicinity for a longer stretch of time."

"Flee where? We'd be over enemy territory with no support, and only the gods know what other awful surprises they've got ready for us out there," Nousha reminded.

She was right. Aurelian possibly had traps prepared on a northern trajectory, and fleeing south or west would lead them deeper into hostile land.

Eastward, however, would bring Nousha to Saba. Maysun would be there, and she could provide guidance that his daughter would need to hear after… well… after what was about to happen. There was also the deteriorating situation on Saba's northern coast to consider- a crisis that Nousha sought to address but had thus far lacked the opportunity…

Nader instructed, "Flee eastward towards Saba. No one would expect you to withdraw that direction, so it's unlikely the Meteorans have much prepared over there."

"Saba is neutral, father. Entering their territory will incite a controversy. They were already angry when they found out Khalid and his lot flew over after Pyli Kyma."

"Maybe, but the emira won't turn you away immediately. They'll argue over it for a day or two, and even if they conclude you need to leave, you'll have had enough time to rest and regroup."

"But the rest of our army! Even if they arrive too late to fight here, they'll need the wyvern corps going forward!"

"You'll only be gone a few days at worst. The Meteorans still don't have the aerial numbers for your absence to be a serious setback, and Her Majesty can still use the secondary group for scouting."

Nader tried to provide believable rationales for why this was the right decision, but in truth, it probably was not the best option for Elam. For once, though, his decision was not for the sake of Almyra or its king- he was thinking firstly of his daughter. Faruq and Tiana would be understandably cross to hear of an excursion into Saba while the campaign in Meteora was faltering. Nousha would just be following the grand agha's orders, however, and Nader would be too dead to worry about their opinion this time.

Thankfully, Nousha was too distressed to find the holes in his logic.

"O-okay, I will," she muttered before blowing a string of notes on a sorna that hung around her neck, prompting her wyverns to land so she could provide a briefing. She then noted, "I know you'll be captured, but I promise we'll come back for you. Right, father? … Father?"

Nader's hand slipped over his wound, where blood was beginning to seep around the circumference of the embedded shaft again.

There were so many things Nader wished he could have done. He wanted to see the end of the war, have a final drink with Faruq, maybe even witness Khalid's accension to the throne…

But he needed to make things right with Nousha.

"Nousha… you need to understand that I won't be taken alive," he said in a calm but decided voice.

His daughter shook her head and argued, "No, no, that's ridiculous. You won't die. You can't. I'm… I'm not ready."

Her words echoed those from after the duel at Merv, but her tone was not angry this time. It was desperate… hysterical… verging on delusional…

Afraid.

Fear was at the root of her words and actions all along, wasn't it? She did not pursue the responsibility of grand agha out of entitlement, and she did not request Nader's retirement because she was impatient. She was just afraid of failing her parents and the memory of her siblings, and she wanted her father to still be healthy enough to support and train her when she stepped into the role.

Why was he so foolish to only understand it at such a late hour?

Nousha was quickly approaching a delirium again, so Nader put steadying hands on either side of his daughter's head, inadvertently bloodying one of her cheeks.

"Nousha, listen to me! Listen to me! This is the last time we'll ever speak, so I want you to remember every word."

"… I'm listening," she mumbled as her eyes finally fixated on him.

"I'll understand if you remember me as a bad father, but please believe me when I say that I always loved you. I'm sorry for letting people think the worst of you after that stupid argument over my title when all you were guilty of was bad communication. Guess you got that from your old man, huh? I should have understood you so much sooner. I would have had I been there more often. I was too distracted by grief and pride to see what was important."

Nousha's eyes began to water. "I-I never hated you… And… What am I supposed to do without you?"

Hearing those few words lifted a burden from Nader's shoulders. He almost smiled as he answered, "Become the grand agha if that's what you want. You're as ready as I was, and I know you'll figure it out for yourself. If not, then so be it. You don't need a title or a place in the histories, and you don't owe anything to me, your siblings, or any dead ancestors. I just want you to follow your heart. Do that, and I'll always be proud of you, my sweet little girl."

"But… father…"

Nader did not want to interrupt her, but Nousha was clearly struggling to express her thoughts. There was simply no time for patience. After wasting two decades of opportunities, a single minute of reconciliation could never be enough.

He told her, "You have to go now. Our whole plan fails if their wyverns get close enough to see that our corps is split into two groups." He gave Nousha a final embrace and a kiss on the cheek before pushing her away. "Please, now!"

Nousha nodded and ran towards where her wyvern corps awaited orders. He swore he saw her mouth, "I love you," before turning her head.

Nader felt tears beginning to form, but he had only a moment alone before Anthony and Dimitri returned. Anthony told him, "Everyone is ready. On our command, the whole cavalry will pivot and break their line on the eastern side for a straight shot to the basilica."

Nader nodded. "Very good. We need to hold our ground for just a little longer. Most of the wyvern corps is about to depart, but some are staying behind to sneak around our enemy. We can't go anywhere quite yet for their sake."

"Understood," Anthony said. His eyes turned downcast when he added, "And sir… thank you. It's been an honor to fight alongside you."

Dimitri lacked any meaningful words, but he bowed his head in appreciation.

"Thank you, Anthony. And Dimitri… tell Khalid that I'm sorry," Nader replied.

Nousha wasted no time getting her wyverns on the move. Nader made eye contact with her once more as she took to the air. Nousha still seemed to disbelieve what was happening, but her father gave her a final reassuring smile.

The cavalry still needed to hold the entire length of the line, but they could quickly shift priorities on a moment's notice. With the surviving cavalry blocking them from unfriendly eyes, most of the troops that were unhorsed gathered on the eastern rim for their final order. Some awaited their fates stoically, while others showed less fortitude. Ignoring the mounting ache throughout the right half of his torso, Nader walked the lines and embraced anyone who needed a boost of strength. His presence alongside them produced the desired effect.

This was it. It would be a far better exit than he feared he was destined to after being shot. Better, in fact, than death in some duel for pride. He was a warrior. He fought this time not for mere vanity, though, but to defend those that mattered to him.

Perhaps he had found the perfect balance in end, one that Ghalib and Faruq never achieved. Then again… Ghalib did select a similar epilogue when he covered for Darius's retreat. Perhaps they truly were the same after all, just as Nousha had said at Merv.

… Did it matter, though? What use was it to compare his life with someone else's? He knew he should have been a better father for Nousha, and he knew had at least done the right thing at the end. Ghalib had no bearing on any of that, nor did worrying over a question posed by a precocious girl over thirty years ago.

Events played out rapidly as soon as the second group of wyverns departed. A standard-bearer raised Elam's banner high with a shout, and their cavalry charged forth. The downward slope bolstered their momentum. The Meteoran line quickly folded back under the overwhelming display. The cleaved path faced the blinding sun, and the ailing grand agha found himself imagining it as a gate to heaven. Faruq, Khalid, and Nousha would hopefully forgive him for leaving so suddenly, but he was now prepared to see the wife and two children that had waited long enough.

"Onward, brave warriors!" Nader bellowed as he lifted his sword, beckoning his soldiers to block the pursuers. "Rest lies just ahead, so pour every last ounce of your strength onto this field! Leave them no doubt of our convictions!"

Nader's companions roared in unison as they followed him into that eternal gate.

Author's Notes: This chapter is dedicated in memory of Brad Venable. Thank you for your work on behalf of this community.