Day had broken over the fort, though one would not notice through the thickness of the trees. It was still so dark and dreary with the fog still heavily occupying the swamp. Some of the men had woken earlier and arose to treat the wounds of the survivors. Once all were on their feet, they began to dig the graves for those who did not make the night. Swift gave a beautiful eulogy followed by a moment of silence. It was a day for victory, but most certainly not without loss. Elle felt the top of Milo's head graze against her hand. She beamed down at him, cherishing his company and gave him a scratch behind the ear.

The spirits of everyone in the fort were lifting as the time to leave came closer. The men had mourned long enough. It was finally time to go home. And whether they had a home to go back to or not, they all rejoiced, clasping each other by the arm with smiles. All but one gathered at the gate, ready to leave. Elle looked up to find Ben still lingering on the wall. He had been gathering Jammy's things. Unfortunately, the poor sod did not make it through the final battle. It was probably for the best, the men all agreed. If he had taken any more injuries, it probably would have left him either limbless or paralyzed. They buried him along with the others and set up a small memorial in honor of the men who had fallen. Ben suggested they gathered the things of the dead to make sure their families would have peace knowing what happened to their loved ones. Swift and Walter were for the cause and carried extra packs. They would leave the fort how they found it. Completely empty.

Eleanor accompanied Walter by the stairs. When she offered to carry a pack, he declined and stated she had already carried him far enough. It was both a wonder and a mystery what exactly happened after the men went down. Elle had told the story twice, now. But she denied herself to tell them everything. When the first men woke from their unconsciousness, they found Eleanor standing in the middle of the fort, sword still in hand. They asked her what had happened and she simply replied, "Take care of the others." Of course, once all of them were up and about, they urged her to tell her story. Especially Ben, who was always fond of ware stories. So when she gave them her version of what had happened, she made sure to exaggerate the excitement and leave out the boring bits.

The men loved it, but in truth, the whole experience had shook her. After the men went down, Elle was left alone. It was quiet for a moment. But only for a moment. She could hear a scratching sound coming from a short distance away and before she could pinpoint where it was coming from, Lieutenant Simmons had sprung from his grave. As if fighting an undead soldier wasn't difficult enough, the hollowmen kept breaching the walls of the fort. And with no one to hold up the barriers, she struggled to keep them at bay. If they weren't trying to take her down, they were clawing at the men on ground. She had to explain an unfortunate event to one of the soldiers of why he had such a large bite mark on his leg. It was all Elle could do to keep the undead occupied. Her gauntlets still tingled against her bare skin from all the casting. In fact, when she had gone to help Swift gather up supplies, she shocked him, causing his finely groomed mustache to uncurl and fry at the ends.

"Would you like any help?" Elle called over to the men after being waved off by the major.

"Don't sweat it, my lady. Although, we wouldn't mind hearing your tale one last time."

"If I tell it again, we'll not have enough daylight."

"You can tell us again on the way," one of them said, patting her on the shoulder as he walked by.

"I'd rather hear it over a pint," Ben yelled from the wall.

To this, the men cheered, reminiscing of what ale tasted like.

"We should get moving," Swift said at the front of the line.

"I'll go ahead with them. Make sure they don't run into more trouble. You can stay if you like. Do a bit of exploring. But you should stay within hearing's reach."

Eleanor examined the group. The Swift Brigade had consisted of nearly twenty men. Now that all was said and done, their numbers dwindled down to half of what they once were. As if that wasn't bad enough, many of the surviving soldiers were covered in bandages. Their uniforms were stained with blood and dirt. She looked at them in pity and considered one particular man that was clinging to his companion for assistance just to walk. The swamp was a nasty place for them to go trampling through. In the condition they were in, it would be at least a day until they reached the village on the other side.

"I wouldn't forgive myself if I at least didn't join you for half the trip."

"It's settled, then," Walter said stroking his pointed grey beard. "Swift and Finn will lead the front. Elle and I will take the rear."

"Sounds like a plan," Elle said, adjusting the pack on her back.

The group set off as soon as the fog had lifted and the sun was shining brightly somewhere up above the trees. Eleanor could tell it would be hot by the humidity of the swamp. Her skin was sticky with sweat and she was positive every bit of her smelled terrible, matching that of the swamp itself. Interestingly enough, she came across a spot or two of places she rather enjoyed and chose to rest there when the men grew tired. It wasn't quiet. But it wasn't like the noise of the city. There were sounds she had never heard before. And most of them were beautiful. Other than the occasional gurgle of a stray hollowman, of course. They were few and far between, but they still lingered, not that they stood a chance now.

She glanced ahead of the group to find Walter. He had slipped his way somewhere in the middle of the group. Eleanor had been left by herself to take up the back. Both of her eyes were functional and therefore better than a vast majority of the group she tailed. Upon further inspection, she noticed Ben had fallen back, close to Walter. Swift was still ahead, commanding as their fearless leader. However, even with the four of them in decent condition, it was difficult getting the injured party through the waste. There were several times Eleanor had to help a fallen soldier. Whether his foot lost hold or was just stuck in the mud, Elle was there to help.

"I think I twisted my ankle," one said to her as she pulled him from the muck.

"Here," Ben insisted, assuming Elle was having a difficult time lifting him up. "Let me help you out, there."

"I got it," Eleanor said, hoisting the man onto her back and lifting him with ease.

Ben glanced over at her, covered in mud from head to toe, unable to believe she was carrying a full grown man on her back. He looked down at himself, only just realizing how disgusting he looked as well. He chuckled to himself only thinking about how awful everyone would smell. It would only get worse as their plan was to go through the sewers straight into Industrial. If they were lucky, they would make it before nightfall. But at the rate they were going, they could only hope. Nevertheless, Ben did his best to brighten the spirits of his comrades. He was beside himself when he even managed to make Eleanor smile a time or two. But then there came the time when Eleanor had to take her leave. Another soldier came from behind her to take over guiding the man with the injured ankle.

"Are you sure you won't follow us to Bowerstone?"

"It would be better for all of us if I were to arrive a bit later," she replied to the man.

"The swamp is a dangerous place, Princess" Ben said, adjusting the injured on his shoulder.

"Don't do that," she shook her finger at him.

"Do what?"

"My name is fine. No nick names."

"But it is a proper way to address-"

"You're being sarcastic and it sounds like a pet name."

"Alright," Ben shrugged with his free hand. "You better be careful out there, Eleanor."

It almost gave her shivers the way her name slithered from his mouth. Luckily, no one took notice. And she tried her damnedest not to blush as she reached over to shake his hand. She gave one last salute before she slipped into the background of swamp. She would be gone before anyone noticed. It was bad enough she felt guilty for abandoning them. But there were pressing issues that needed to be taken care of within the swamp. And she knew the hollowmen were not going to stop once the sun had set. If anything, she could hold them back. She knew that for certain. As she topped the hill, she turned around to get one last look at the brave men that had fought at her side. But what she caught instead was Ben, looking over his shoulder at a last attempt to watch her walk away. Out of all the things she could fight; hollowmen, hobbes, bandits, and even mercenaries with bombs. But she could not fight the smile spreading on her face.