Valkyrie Profile: Lenneth

by WeirdRaptor

A novelization of the original game. Follow Lenneth Valkyrie on her mission to gather the souls of the heroic slain in preparation for Ragnarök. Secrets, lies, and conspiracies mire her path. Will she succeed, or will all fall to darkness?

41. Chapter 40: Lucien Fin

Author's Note: If I ever expand on a character's subplot this much ever again, feel free to kick me.

Valkyrie Profile:

Lenneth Novelization AU:

Disclaimer: I do not own Valkyrie Profile or any other tri-Ace properties. Please support the official release.

Chapter Forty:

Lucien V:

Ascension

"HEAVE. HO! HEEEAVE. HO!" Ingrid chanted with a strained voice.

"HoooOooo…" Gloria echoed.

CHUUN-KK!

"Whew…" the hybrid cousins exhaled as the fourth and final brace came loose.

It doubled as the gate's lock, but the crossbar itself was fused to the gate by the rust. The three men were still working at breaking it off with prybars and had gotten parts of it loose, but it was still attached firmly where the big doors met in the middle.

"Back to it," Ingrid muttered.

Gloria, Ingrid, and the three men gathered around where the gate doors met to best figure out how to get the crossbar off. Ingrid grabbed it by both the top and underside and pulled, but it was on firmly. She screwed her lips to the sides as she considered this problem. She noted the crossbar did not extend beyond the edges of the doors. She looked to Gloria inquisitively.

"Hey," she said, tapping her ax with the prybar. "Think I could just split this through the middle and we could just pull the doors open?"

Gloria looked at the small door set into the door on the right.

"I think we would have an easier time just getting this smaller door opened, and that means wrenching the bar from the gate entirely," she answered. She regarded the ax riding on the shoulders of her cousin with some consideration. "But, maybe splitting it through the middle here would get it detached from the gate."

"Right then," Ingrid handed off the prybar and took out her ax. "Everyone back, I gotta have room to work. Can't have anyone getting' rust and splinters in their eyes."

Everyone cleared out and even took out handkerchiefs to cover their nose and mouths with. Ingrid tied a cloth around the lower half of her face.

"Wish I had some kind of goggles like the dwarven miners from Momma's homeland under the mountains," Ingrid thought. "Guess I'll just hafta close me eyes when me ax hits the bar."

Ingrid took few practice swings to line up her aim. On the third, her ax came down on the crossbar with all the force Ingrid's dwarven strength allowed. Everyone, herself included, looked away as soon as the blade connected. It bit into the metal, breaking off rusty pieces and sending a rusty red dust into the air. Ingrid pulled her ax free and stepped away, only then daring to open an eye and look. The top of the thick reddish bar had a deep crack cleaved into it and another was forming which went deeper down through it. She delighted to see it almost ready to break so soon.

At the entrance of the short street, Claire and Betty still stood watch. The redhead glanced back, watching the hybrids' progress a moment. So far, nothing. Claire did not know how to feel about that.

"They've not come for us yet," she mused melancholically. "That means Lucien still holds the line, right? He still…"

She did not finish that thought. Lucien intended to die out there, so it did not really matter. The thought of life without him was painful to her. Claire tried to stop the hot tears forming in her eyes and wiped them away. The thief did not know what kept her rooted in place, instead of going to him in that moment.

"I would rather face death with him than live without him," Claire's own epiphany scared her. It followed with another, one that scared her. "If he's the last man standing, he will truly die alone."

Claire again wondered why she stayed put.

---

Up on the wall walk, the einherjar continued to watch. Worry lined the faces of Jelanda and Nanami. Lawfer's was grim. Arngrim watched the hybrid cousins with interest. Their inhuman strength made him wish he had been able to meet them while alive.

"Sweet Gefjon, what did their mother feed those gals?" Arngrim rumbled. Then he elbowed Lawfer. "Just think of what we coulda done with them in Fenris's Brood."

"Indeed…" Lawfer said, although he hadn't really heard what Arngrim said.

Beside them, Lenneth, Belenus, and Janus looked off to the northwest, listening to the distant battle.

"This Sheriff's men are not far away," Janus observed.

Belenus had crossed one arm over his chest and rested the elbow of the other on it, lifting a hand to his chin. He scratched his facial hair, unhappily looking between the innocents below and the sounds of the fighting. Then he gave Lenneth a sidelong glance.

"You do not really intend for us to watch all these people die, do you, Lady Valkyrie?" he asked.

Lenneth did not answer. She just turned away from them, which was easy to do while standing at the end of the row. She felt the eyes of her other einherjar burning into the back of her head, though.

"Why not help them?" Lawfer asked.

"I have told you why," Lenneth said, while still looking away. "'Tis not our place to intervene in the affairs of humans aside from when demonic or Undead forces threaten them."

"Oh, I say…" Belenus put his hands on his hips.

"Enough," Lenneth turned to them sharply. "I have spoken."

Jelanda and Nanami exchanged a look, they had both just been looking down at the children, who were already undersized and underfed as far as they concerned. They tried to bite their tongues, but in the end, Nanami just could not stay silent.

"Please, Lady Valkyrie," she begged. The Yamatoese girl pointed down at the small gathering of refugees below. "We're not asking you to save every remaining person in town. Just save them."

"Yes, please," Jelanda straightened and faced Lenneth. She clasped both hands together in prayer while beseeching their goddess. "Just save them. They're nobody. How much trouble could you get in?"

Lenneth nearly grimaced. Only a twitching of a brow betrayed emotion.

"Yeah," Arngrim also turned to her. "I'm really startin' to root for these guys."

"They got this far," Belenus hesitantly dared to speak up again. "Just a little extra push would not be out of the question, mayhaps?"

Lenneth did not snap at them outright, but she was clearly perturbed by their insistence. She looked down on the small gathering below, setting eyes on the children as well.

"If I allow this to happen…" the thought intruded its way into Lenneth's mind.

She closed her eyes as she tried to push down the emotions which came with the thought of watching those little lives get snuffed out.

"Only three accompanied this Lucien out," Janus spoke up. "They will only last so long before the Sheriff's men push through."

Lenneth's heart felt heavy.

---

Rivan fell. He had doubled over and collapsed onto his side, clutching the sword stuck into the center of his torso. He wheezed in agony once and then went still. He lied on the ground beside his comrade, Leo, also dead. The only blessing is that his last act snatched his killer's weapon from their hands. The soldier tried to retreat, but Kat speared him from behind when he tried. Rivan's killer fell to his knees and then to the side, coming to rest maybe a pace from his final victim. Kat parried an axe which came to split her cranium. The axe fighter's stroke pushed against her even after she hooked the middle of her spear under the head. The warrior woman quickly angled the body of her weapon, stepping off to the side and parrying his strike. Then she pulled back and flipped her spear around, swinging the bladed head towards his face. The axe fighter pulled his head back, receiving only a cut down his left cheek. He bore his yellow teeth at her as he felt the stinging heat of the wound and the wet warmth of his blood dripping down his face. She would pay for that, and opportunity knocked as she was attacked by someone else.

Kat's spear spun back and forth, exchanging blows with two swordsmen. The ax wielder watched, waiting until he saw his chance. He raised his weapon again and was hit with a searing pain under his raised arm, making him stop. He looked and saw an arrow lodged right under his armpit. His fingers, which had begun quivering, barely grasped the offending object before his body began to go into shock and he slumped onto the ground.

From her rooftop above the fighting, Bedelia aimed again. With half of Lucien's fighters gone, she decided someone had to pick up the slack. She aimed right where the sheriff's men had to come around the debris pile and fired, shooting a man in the leg just above the knee as he was passing through. He dropped to the ground, stopping up the men behind him, breaking the tide and giving Lucien and Kat more room.

"Now, then, who's next?" she looked for an open target.

Then, Bedelia happened to see something coming from further back: Horseback riders.

A man with a Warhammer charged in and swung horizontally at Lucien's head. The scarlet swordsman grunted and ducked. As the Warhammer whooshed past, even the sheriff's other men were forced to dodge.

"Oi! Blake, watch it!" one of the men Lucien had been fighting shouted.

"Shaddup!" Blake hollered.

Then he elbowed both men away.

"He's mine," Blake declared.

Lucien swordsman lowered his sword as Blake came at him again, holding the blade off to the side as he widened his stance. This time, Blake swung down from above at an angle, but Lucien rushed, right under the swing. He did not attack just yet, having watched Blake's movements. They were crisp and fast, and sure enough, the backswing was almost instant. Lucien hopped sideways.

"Come on, charge me," Lucien internally urged his opponent. "Come at me."

"Stand still, runt," Blake shouted.

He charged, swinging his hammer straight overhead to bring it down on Lucien's head. Lucien darted in low, and sliced Blake's shins, swiping the large man's feet out from under him, throwing him forward. His middle collided with Lucien's hunched form, causing his upper body to get whip straight forward. Then his own momentum flipped him over and he landed on his back on the hard earth. Even though he was wearing a helmet and armor, the jolt of landing roughly stunned Blake. Kat used her spear to vault over to him and stabbed him through his chest-plate.

More of the sheriff's men filed through. Lucien took a step back to gauge them. He half-heard a whistle from above and almost missed it. It was Bedelia signaling him from above:

"Trouble."

"As if I'm not looking right at 'trouble' now?" Lucien gruffly thought.

On the other side of the rubble, Sheriff Agatha and her men stopped their horses. They could hear steel clashing and death knells of their men. Agatha was about to issue an order when one of her deputies pointed up to the roof of the building a block ahead of them on their left.

"Archer!" he shouted.

Agatha saw the lone figure of Bedelia, who quickly retreated from view when the sheriff's own archers ran up to take shots at her. They stayed their hands but kept their aim up high at that rooftop.

"I think I recognize that person," Agatha thought. "'Twas that Elder who advised Lucien in The Pit."

"Well done," she congratulated the deputy who had spotted Bedelia.

"Just my duty, Sheriff," he saluted back.

She nodded and then climbed off the saddle of her horse.

"Dismount," she ordered. "That mountain of wreckage will be too difficult for the horses."

Then she handed off the reins and began to approach the pile.

"Archers," she called. She made a high, overhead gesture towards the rubble, indicating she wanted them to climb it. "Rain bolts down on Lucien and whoever still stands with him."

"Right," the archers enthusiastically complied.

They ran past Agatha. Their crossbows hung from their arms, loaded with the armor-piercing bolts purchased specifically for to ensure the Silver Savior's downfall. As they first stepped onto the base of the mounded brick and woodwork, Bedelia poked the top of her head over the side of the roof. Below her, Lucien and Kat were still holding the line. Rusty had come out of the alley and attacked anyone that tried to rush past them or get the drop on them.

The old woman ducked below the roof's parapet to avoid being seen by the archers. She was good, but there were six of them. They'd fire back long before she could take them all out. So, Bedelia took out the third and final spell gem. It was time to use their last trump card. She had to kill those archers with this move, and if it also took down Agatha in the process, all the better.

"Nothin' for it," she told herself. "And nary a moment t' waste."

Bedelia stood and pitched the gem at the building directly across from the one Lucien had partially collapsed earlier.

"Head's up!" one of the archers shouted.

Agatha and all her men looked skyward, spotting the little gleaming dot fly over their heads. The building's front exploded and the entire wall came loose from the rest of the building, falling forward towards the crowd of law enfrocers, coming apart as it tumbled down. Agatha and her men turned and fled, the horses broke loose from the men holding their reins and stampeded back up the street, running over anyone in their way. The archers cried out and tried to flee, but it was too late. The rubble utterly smashed them like insects and completely congested the road this time.

Lucien saw Bedelia stand up with her arm raised, and knew what she was about to do. Behind him, Rusty had already spun about and fled. With no hesitation, he turned, grabbed Kat around her middle and ran for it with a protesting woman heaved over his shoulder. Behind them, the blast went off and they heard the rain of bricks and wood. Lucien dove for it, twisting himself in the air to take the brunt of the landing for them both.

"G'urk!" Lucien grunted as pain went through his body, spreading out from his back.

He and Kat lied there with their eyes squeezed shut for a moment, but when nothing hit them, they slowly opened them and looked down the street. The combined collapse of the buildings had completely plugged the street with an enormous pile of debris.

"Bless ye, yer alright!" Rusty shouted.

Lucien and Kat turned as he ran over to them, offering his hand. Lucien allowed Kat to be helped first, and then Rusty pulled him to his feet.

"Ugh…" Lucien was slightly wobbly from the excitement and the crash onto the hard ground, but was otherwise alright.

"Ye good?" Rusty asked. He leaned back and forth, looking at his leader from different angles. "You take a blow to the nuggin'?"

"Nah," Lucien raised his hand. "Just…"

He could still hear raised voices on the other side of the now sizable pile of rubble.

"Alright," Lucien turned to Kat. "I won't ask you to stay with me a moment longer."

"Nu-huh," the spear-woman shook her head. "I'm stayin'. Someone's gotta stay to fend them lawmen off."

"Okay," Lucien answered. Then he raised to his voice so Bedelia could hear him, too. "Bedelia, Rusty, you two have done your parts. Retreat to the gate and help however you can. If it's open, go catch up to 'em."

"What?" Rusty cried, disbelieving. "And just leave ye with one? Yer mad."

Lucien wetted his lips, taking the extra second to collect his thoughts.

"Look, Rusty, I'm not asking you to leave for me," his words were somber. "This'll be the end of Kat and me. I'm asking you to look after Claire from now one."

Rusty's resistance to this order died as he listened.

"Rusty," Lucien's voice strained but he kept himself from begging. "Can you do that?"

To say the stocky man had not been expecting to be hit with his best friend's last request would be an understatement. He saw Lucien's desperation, and slowly Rusty's head nodded almost on its own.

"Alright. Alright…" he vowed.

"Thank you," was Lucien's emphatic answer.

Then the two men shared a forearm shake. Lucien smiled weakly and began to turn away, but then Rusty lunged forward, grabbing up his friend in a tight, surprise hug. Lucien gasped, standing rooted but he did not try to push Rusty away. Rusty's breathing hitched as low whimpering sounds escaped the man. Lucien's own expression softened as he realized his friend was sobbing.

"I… I'll never forget ya, buddy," Rusty whispered.

Then he pulled away, wiping his eyes.

"Now go," Lucien said.

Unable to muster anymore words, Rusty obeyed, leaving Lucien and Kat to last as long as they could.

"May the gods guide yer path," Bedelia called from above, and then she, too was gone.

"May the gods guide yours' through the wilderness," Lucien whispered back.

Then Lucien and Kat gave each other a look, silently understanding each other, before turning to the rubble.

"Sheriff, let's you and me dance at last," Lucien thought.

---

Agatha coughed and retched, finding it difficult to breath. Her head throbbed with the worst pressure she had ever suffered since childhood. Sounds and colors swam around her in a whirlpool of blurs and fog. Her vision was red-tinted when she opened her eye and watched the world wobble as though she were intoxicated. She saw moving trunks she knew had to be legs speeding back and forth past her. Every sound seemed as though she were hearing them from the other side of the city. She squeezed her eyes shut again and began testing her limbs. They ached, but she was able to move them, and they were definitely not broken.

"Now I just hope I can move my spine," she almost groggily thought.

Agatha opened her eye again. This time, the world was clearer. It was still spinning, but she could tell she was lying on the ground, out of the way. She was on her side on even ground with her back to one of the building. She realized one of her men must have moved her. Agath's neck ached as she lifted her head to take in the scene. Captain Rawl was managing the situation, organizing her men into groups. Some were removing the wounded and dead, removing them for medical attention. Others were moving aside bricks and other chunks of rubble to unbury survivors. Past all of them, Agatha saw a steep pile of wreckage, much bigger now. She noted with immense irritation that her men were not moving to scale it. Having taken this in, Agatha rolled onto her hands and knees, and sat on her knees, having to immediately clutch her head. She felt around her head, and found some nasty bumps, but never did her fingers come across any bandages of warm wet spots to indicate blood.

"Do I not have a concussion?" she wandered. "Just some bumps. Must feel worse than it is."

After a moment, the pain began to subside, and Agatha lowered her hands from her head and looked around. She saw one of the archers lied on his stomach, dead. His crossbow and quiver were nearby. Agatha crawled over and grabbed up the crossbow. It was a bit scuffed, so she decided to test the string. She pulled it back and locked it into place. She smiled when it held. Then she grabbed the quiver, noting happily it still had most of its arrows. She pulled them out and found some of them had broken. That left it two-thirds full of usable bolts. Agatha did not see any of the other archers, nor their gear.

"Fine. I'll do it, myself, then," she thought.

She shouldered the quiver and cautiously stood, testing her feet, ankles, and knees. All were sore but had nothing major wrong with them. Agatha hissed through her teeth as her legs that did not want to unbend. She would make them move if it killed her. Her career was counting on them. She set her eye on Rawl, standing a short distance away, still barking out orders.

"Alright, men," he said. "Finish gathering the wounded. We've no choice but to retreat. They need medical attention. We will simply have to give chase later once we regroup."

"What?" Agatha shouted.

Rawl looked as she stormed over, pushing her way through any men who got into her path. She was like a mad bull he had once encountered in the countryside surrounding the city, which had killed its owner before entering a neighbor's fields and destroying property there before it was put down.

"She might not have horns, but that sword'll make do nicely," Rawl swallowed.

Agatha marched up, demanding, "What is the meaning of that command?"

"Sheriff," Rawl nodded, remaining calm despite his fear. "Should you be standing so soon?"

Some of the men stopped to watch the exchange play out while other prepared to leave.

"Never mind that," Agatha dismissed, raising her nose proudly. "And do not try to change the subject. What do you think you're doing?"

"I am following the only sane course of action," Rawl answered.

The sheriff sneered. "Men, stand your ground. Ignore that order. We will continue to press on."

She repeated the order, which was relied, making some men halt where they were. Others ignored it.

"Sheriff?" Rawl let out an aghast retort. "Think about this, please."

"I have, Captain. For years. Now explain yourself," Agatha commanded.

Rawl pointed straight ahead at the blocked road, which had buried many men. "See for yourself, Sheriff. The way ahead of treacherous. We've taken too many casualties. The rebels are crafty, and they've made a definitive move. We've no choice but to let them go."

"We will be doing no such thing," Agatha snapped with a wild eye. "We are so close to catching Lucien now. They cannot have much left in their arsenal."

"Just like they weren't supposed to be able to escape The Pit and the tower, correct?" Rawl asked.

The men went silent, and backed away, looking from Rawl to Agatha in fear.

Agatha had to take a moment to control herself, and when she did speak, it was with barely contained malice, "…What did you just say, Captain?"

Rawl swallowed, but this time he did not back down. Not this time. There was too much on the line to listen to foolish ambition, even from someone like Sheriff Agatha.

"I think you heard me the first time," Rawl answered.

Agatha sneered, "Now you listen her, you ingrate…"

She pointed to at the mound of rubble, and continued with a voice that threatened to turn into a shout, "If they get away, the Lord Mayor will have our heads, our jobs, he will…"

"No, Sheriff," Rawl answered firmly. "He will have your badge and your head. From where I stand, the entire night has just been one long string of failures on your part. Lucien and his band of rebels have managed to give you the slip at every turn when you had the advantage, and now the city burns, many of it's inhabits are dead whether or not they were guilty of any association with Lucien or his Silver Saviors, our men are wounded, and you previously informed me that many of the Lucien's crew has already fled the city. And I…"

Rawl glanced around the men before finishing, "Simply refuse to participate in this march towards our own deaths any longer. Men, come along. If you value your lives, you will leave with me."

Agatha stood with her arms stiffly at her sides, fuming with rage.

"Captain, you will remain where you are, or you will be subject to disciplinary action," she warned.

"Then punish me," he retorted. He glanced at the destruction in front of them. "Nothing is worth this."

Then he turned away, calling for his horse. Agatha could just scream as she watched several of the men begin to leave as well.

"Thank you, Wiggons," Rawl said to the man who handed him his horse's reins.

"Welcome, sir Captain," Wiggons saluted.

"I cannot wait to lay my head down and put all this behind me," he said.

Agatha gripped the crossbow so tightly, her fingers hurt as she watched him leave with half her fighting force. She was so bitterly tempted to put a bolt in his back as an example, but there was no room for further complications that might cause. His men were leaving with him, and thus she had to consider how they might react to his sudden murder. Agatha turned to her remaining men and pointed at the blocked street.

"Begin clearing it out. Now!" she barked.

---

"Come on. Come on, you," Lucien grunted.

He and Kat lifted a hunk of wall that stayed together so it sat upright and semi-secured in place. Then they sat behind it. The swordsman and the spear-woman had crawled up the rubble, almost to the top on their side where their enemy would be slowed in their approach. They hoped they were near enough to the top that once the fighting started, the sheriff's own men would get in the way of any archers. The little wall was to provide cover in the event the archers had a clear shot.

As the two sat and rested, they checked around the corner of their little section of wall, knowing Agatha's men would appear at the summit new hill at any moment. With the barrier up, it did not matter if they still had armor-piercing bolts. Nothing was going to just bore through brick like it was nothing. Let them shoot as long as they wanted. In the end, they would have to come down and Lucien and Kat. Additionally, the ground was so uneven, it'd be easy to duck behind other protrusions as well.

"Urph!" Lucien readjusted where he sat. "No matter how I get seated, there's a jagged hunk of rock sitting into my ass."

Kat just chuckled beside him while also constantly repositioning herself as well.

"I think we did well finding the slab," she said.

"I hope so," Lucien replied.

He looked southeastward, in the direction of the gate. "Now I just hope they're already out of the city."

---

"Finally," Lenneth suddenly muttered. She stepped up to the edge of the wall walk. "Within the next half-hour."

Her einherjar stirred at those words. Arngrim, Jelanda, and Nanami again leaned over the edge to watch Ingrid, Gloria, and the spearmen's progress, or rather lack thereof. Ingrid had managed to batter the bar loose from the gate, but the none of the doors would budge. Currently, both the hybrid cousins were trying unsuccessfully to force prybars between the door and the frame of the mini-door in the right gate door, but even with all their strength, they were having trouble getting a good grip with the tools.

"In less than thirty minutes?" Belenus unhappily stroke his beard as he commented. "If Lucien falls so soon, that leaves them little time to escape."

Jelanda and Nanami again felt overwhelming pity for the plight of those below and approached their goddess, bowing.

"Please, Lady Valkyrie, won't you make an exception just this once to interfere in the dealings of man?" Nanami besieged.

Lenneth regarded them, and then sighed.

"Alas, I cannot," she answered. "Lord Odin's law forbids such blatant intervention."

The girls both visibly deflated.

"We understand, Lady Valkyrie," Jelanda sadly answered.

"However," Lenneth then said, looking away from them. "Whatever happens here in my absence is none of my business."

To this, she received several raised brows from around her band of einherjar.

"I will leave to fetch Lucien by myself," Lenneth further explained. "I believe it would be for the best that I have a moment alone to console his troubled spirit. Therefore, you will remain here until I can fetch you. You will remain invisible. Of course, that does nothing to stop your spells and Soul Crush abilities from working if you are forced to use them."

"Buh?" Arngrim grunted.

"Do not wander off," Lenneth instructed.

Then she took to the air, leaving them on the wall walk, overlooking the southeast gate. The einherjar looked among themselves as their considered their goddess' words.

"Did…" Jelanda paused uncertainly. "Did Lady Valkyrie just give us permission to help them get the gate open?"

"Not so much permission," Belenus answered. "But I do believe she has decided to look the other way."

"What do ya think, Fancypants?" Arngrim asked.

Hmm…" Belenus looked down on the outside of the old gate before turning to observe the inside again. Ingrid, Gloria, and the men still struggled fruitlessly.

"I doubt there will be much to gain from hopping down onto that street," Lawfer said.

The former knight had sat down on the wall walk, hanging his legs over the side with his halberd laid across his lap.

"I agree," Belenus replied. "Our time would be better spent, preparing a single powerful blast to hammer the gate open from the outside. It opens inwards, anyway."

"Think I should do it?" Arngrim rotated his shoulders, loosening them. "My Soul Crush basically makes me like rampaging dragon."

"We want the gate open, you brute," Jelanda crossly puffed. "Not to kill everyone by flattening them with it."

Arngrim shot her an annoyed scowl ip. Jelanda just blew a razzberry back at him.

"Well, it's gonna take a lotta force to push it in," Arngrim pointed out.

"Correct," Belenus concurred. He looked at Jelanda and Nanami, giving a slight bow. "Ladies."

"Yes, Mr. Belenus?" Nanami answered.

She and Jelanda gave the noble their full attention as he began.

"The right application of magic to the gate will be sufficient," Belenus explained. He motioned for them to look at the gate from the outside as well. "I believe a synchronized casting of Fire Lance or Sacred Javelin would supply the necessary power to force the door open, or loose, without blasting it entirely off its hinges."

The two mages thought about it and smiled in agreement with the plan.

"It seems like a sound strategy," Nanami said. Then she looked over the side to the ground below. "But how do we get down there? It's a long way down, and we can get hurt, even as einherjar."

Jelanda deflated and looked down as well.

"Uh… erm…" the little princess stammered out uncertainly.

Arngrim just rolled her eyes and then pushed past Belenus to get over to the young mages.

"Oh, come on, it's not that far for us," the mercenary grunted as he loomed over both the girls.

"For me is it!" Jelanda protested with a snippy look directed up at him.

Arngrim just shrugged, and without warning, suddenly grabbed both magi around their middles and hoisted them up under his arms like a pair of potato sacks. Belenus, Lawfer, and Janus watched with raised brows, all equally baffled and a little afraid. Jelanda and Nanami cried out and began struggling to wrench themselves loose from his grasp.

"Hey, hey, hey!" the princess shouted. She beat her fists against Arngrim's massive forearm. "What do you think you're doing, you brute?!"

Nanami thrashed around, trying to push herself loose, but Arngrim had them both firm. Both girls' worst fears were confirmed when Arngrim put his foot up on top the wall merlons. Jelanda whimpered as her face paled.

"Arngrim. Arngrim, no!" Nanami pled.

"Too late," the large warrior told them, and he leapt over the side.

The others Arngrim descend to the earth below like a meteor with two screaming passengers. In midfall, the mercenary's body burst into flame as he activated his Finisher, using it to cushion their landing. Then he landed, squatting into the impact, and deactivated the Soul Crush. Arngrim stood, smirking, quite pleased with pulling that stunt off. Jelanda and Nanami hung limply from his arms now. They only responded when he unceremoniously dropped them. Nanami curled up on her side and shivered with fear. Jelanda rolled over, holding her upper body up with her elbows, hissing and spatting up at Arngrim.

"You… MANIAC!" the fuming and red-faced princess cried.

"What? We're already dead," Arngrim shrugged again. "It's not like we could die again."

"You're still a mad man, Arngrim," Lawfer called down.

Arngrim just turned and smirked at him, ignoring Jelanda as she beat her fists against his stomach. Nanami shakily stood before dusting herself off.

"Whew, that was…" the shrine girl slumped, letting out a long, deep sigh. "That was certainly sudden…"

Jelanda stepped back from Arngrim, crossing her arms and turning up her nose, letting out a "Humph!" Nanami coughed into her fist, going up to Jelanda.

"Now that we're down here, perhaps it best to begin now," she suggested.

Jelanda let out an unhappy moan, looking towards the old gate.

"Right," the princess relented. "Belenus advised a Fire Lance or a Sacred Javelin. What do you think? Seeing it now from this angle, I mean?"

Nanami shrugged, "I think either will work, but Sacred Javelin will have a quite bit of force behind it."

Jelanda considered the recommendation.

"Maybe a bit too much," she answered. "We want the door open, and that' sit."

"Fire Lance, then," Nanami decided.

---

"Rrrrr-ugh!" Ingrid was nearly thrown off-balance when her prybar popped loose of the door again.

Gloria and one of the spearmen lowered their tools in defeat.

"This ain't workin'," the man said. "The door's just too crusted in place here."

"I concur," Gloria nodded. "We'll have to remove the hinges."

"We're runnin' outta time here, though," Ingrid pointed out.

"So, no time to lose," Gloria bluntly replied, approaching the enormous gate hinges. "Get over here and help me."

While they took the various tools to the bottom hinge, the crowd with them was beginning to get impatient. Cedric paced back and forth, frequently glancing towards the end of the road, becoming a bundle of nerves waiting to go off.

"It's still stuck?" he muttered to himself. "We shoulda been gone by now."

By now, he was kicking himself for allowing those idiot girls to talk him out of trying for St. Asterix. He could be exiting out onto the beach hours ago, but no, he was here waiting to be killed. Claire and Betty kept him in the corner of their eye, given how argumentative he had been before. The children were getting restless, and their mothers were getting worried, as they all were. Claire and Betty just hoped the gate opened before Cedric could make more trouble, but that looked less and less likely.

Above on the rooftop Bedelia had previously occupied, Maximillian watched from a much higher advantage. No massive army was approaching yet, but there was movement.

"There!" his emerald eyes caught sight of two figures coming down the street.

Maximillan had already an arrow fitted into his bow, so all he had to do was aim. His lips thinned as he prepared to fire. Below, Betty and Claire heard his signal whistle and took out their daggers, going flat against the walls at the corners of the block. Maximillian laid down on his side, taking no chances of being seen. The smaller a target he was, the better. He did not fire yet, in case the figures were more of their own. As they came closer, Maximillian began to get a sense of familiar with the thickset form of the figure in front and the hunched over person following.

"Rusty and Elder Bedelia?" he thought.

As they were getting close, one of the figures whistled. Maximillian recognized the pattern, gave slack to the bowstring before pointing the weapon away from them. He cupped a hand around his mouth and whistled back, letting them know their hail had been acknowledged. Down below, Betty and Claire also heard it. They moved like mirror images out onto the street.

"Elder Bedelia? Rusty?" Betty recognized them first.

"What?" Claire cried.

The redhead ran toward them despite Betty's protests. She growled and followed Claire unwillingly, green eyes darting all around. Claire could not see either approaching person clearly yet in the shadows, but she recognized their gaits.

"Who goes?" she heard Bedelia demand.

"Wait, wait! Hold on, it's me," Claire cried. She frantically waved her hands in front. "It's Claire."

Once close, Claire saw they were covered in sweat and dust. Betty stopped a pace behind Claire, still keeping watch.

"Claire?" Rusty asked as he slowed down. "What's the big idea just runnin' out here?"

"Me?" Claire demanded, laying her palms on her chest to gesture at herself. "What about you? Why've you both returned? Where's Lucien?"

Bedelia snorted. "I think ye know where the boy is, even if ye don't wanna admit it."

Claire felt her chest tighten. She clutched her hands to do it tightly. The elder was correct. Claire already knew the answer to their question. Which made Rusty's answer all the harder to hear.

"He's stayed behind with the others," he stated sadly. "But he told me to…"

Claire's flashed angrily and she grabbed Rusty by his shirt as she shook him.

"You just left him? Just like that?" she shouted.

"Claire, listen to me…" Rusty begged. He grabbed her hands, but did not yet try to force her to let go. "Lucien gave me orders."

"Orders?" tears escaped down Claire's cheeks in junction with the question. "How could anythin' be more important than watching his watch, like you always promised him you would? Aren't you s'pposed to be his friend?"

Betty winced and Bedelia's eyes narrowed in silent anger as her patience with the girl's hysterics wore thin.

"'Course!" Rusty cried. "But to 'im, this is more important than his life."

Claire sneered. "And I'll bet you were all too happy to take the first opportunity to just run with yer tail behind…"

SMACK!

Claire let go of Rusty and fell back, clutching her stinging cheek, unintentionally backing into Betty. The ginger stared at Bedelia with both hurt and surprise as the old woman planted herself between Rusty and her. The elder rested her fists against her hips as she frowned in disgust at Claire.

"Elder!" Rusty leaned around Bedelia's side to protest.

"In a minute," Bedelia sternly answered without taking her eyes off Claire. "I'm puttin' an end to this nonsense first."

Rusty cowered back, unwilling to challenge her. Betty hid behind Claire, hoping to avoid notice.

"Now ye listen 'ere, Missy," Bedelia wagged her finger at Claire so sharply she might as well been stabbing it her with it. "When Lucien sent us back, Rusty refused 'til he nearly bent the knee and begged 'im to look after ya."

"…Look after me?" Claire questioningly repeated.

"Ay," Bedelia responded. "So, I won't hear another word 'gainst Rusty outta ye. We clear?"

Claire found herself unable to meet the old woman, or Rusty's, gazes as her anger was replaced with guilt. She had known she was out of line before she even began shouting at him.

"Damn it," the redhead fought to swallow her pride.

She knew an apology was in order. While she gathered herself, Rusty looked past Bedelia right at Claire, who had finally looked up, but only briefly. She quickly turned away with obvious remorse.

"Right," Rusty said. "I don't like it, neither, but Lucien's given me a job. Come on, Claire. We gotta get back to the gate."

"Yes, we've been out in the open like ninnies too long," Bedelia agreed.

Betty lightly clapped Claire on the arm and turned to head back. The redhead was still frozen in place as the old woman and Rusty walked past her.

"Sorry," Claire uttered to Rusty in a quiet voice.

Rusty just shrugged and grabbed her by the arm to escort her back to the gate.

---

"Alright, you're ready, Nanami?"

"Mm!" the Yamatoese girl enthusiastically hummed back.

"Then let's do it," Jelanda said.

Both girls concentrated on the gate, standing like a rusted vanguard before them. They focused, gathering the magics needed to cast the spell in tandem. On the other side, both the hybrid cousins froze in mid-movement. They had each felt the surge of power outside the gate. Ingrid and Gloria exchanged quick perplexed, worried looks and then turned to the three human workers.

"Everyone back!" Ingrid shouted.

"Huh?" the three men turned from their work.

Ingrid ran over, pushing them away from the gate.

"I. Said… BACK!" she repeated.

The three spearmen were still confused, but they retreated as directed. Gloria, meanwhile, ran over to the civilians seated directly across from the gate.

"Move to the sides. Don't look at me like that. I said move!"

She hauled women and children to their feet, but all fled to their sides on their own.

"What? What's going on?" Cedric began, getting up.

"Just stay back!" Gloria shoved him.

The half-dwarves continued to keep an eye on the gate as they moved people away.

"Girls, whatever is the matter?" one of the mothers asked.

"Dunno," Ingrid kept her eyes on the iron doors. "But we felt powerful magic."

From his perch, Maximillian heard the commotion.

"Huh?" he stood to better his vantage as he watched the half-dwarven girls order everyone away from the southeast gate. "Now what?"

Outside, Jelanda and Nanami were ready. Jelanda raised the Elemental Sceptre and Nanami her wand as their forms gleamed with magic that then funneled into their instruments. Their robes billowed as though caught in the breeze as those magics further erupted. Spell circled appeared at their feet.

"FIRE LANCE!" both young mages chanted.

Six fireballs apiece fired from the tips of their instruments and the whole dozen flew screaming like missiles towards the old gate. Jelanda and Nanami focused on keeping the blasts grouped together to hit their target with maximum efficiency and force. Arngrim watched from the side with his Dáinsleif shouldered. He craned his neck forward in silent anticipation.

"Come on, come on," he silently willed.

From atop the wall, Belenus, Janus, and Lawfer grabbed hold of the arrow loops, which served as rough side railings along the outer side of the stone curtain around the city. They had no idea how much the impact might make the city wall shake, so they held on for dear afterlife. On the ground, Jelanda and Nanami grunted from effort as they lined up their shots into two neat horizontal rows. The fireballs hammered the huge iron doors of the old gate at the inner corners of the doors where they converged in the middle. The blast sent tremors across the entire southern wall of Gerebellum. On the dead-end street inside, the peasants screamed and raised their hands to cover their faces as chunks of debris were blown loose. Ingrid and Gloria flattened themselves against the opposing wall with cloths and their arms covering their faces.

"By Garm! The gate's open!" Maximillian cried out from the roof of the end of the street.

"Huh?" that got everyone's attention.

The cousins whipped the protective covering from their faces and sure enough, the old gate stood with its doors pushed inward wide enough for them to leave. However, everyone was cautious.

"What do we do, Miss Dolce?" one of the orphans asked.

"I…" the old headmistress was unsure of how to answer that. Or what the answer even was.

"Is this Divine providence?" Cedric questioned in awe.

No one moved towards it right away. Ingrid and Gloria reached for their weapons, quietly creeping towards the opened gate. The three spearmen fell in behind them.

At the end of the block, Maximillian exited the building he kept watch from. He stood in silent trepidation.

"For us? Why?" his mind swirled.

"Oh!" he heard Betty gasp joyously behind him. "They got the gate open!"

"No… actually," Maximillian looked at the returning group. "Somethin' outside hit it so hard, it almost came off its hinges."

"What?" Rusty almost laughed in disbelief.

Bedelia plucked an arrow from her quiver and briskly made her way past. Rusty, Claire, and Betty stayed back with Maximillian. For father, daughter and the thief, it was purely out of caution. For Claire, it was apprehension. The doors hung open. They could escape, but that brought no comfort to the redhead. Claire looked to where Lucien was hopefully still alive and fighting for all their sakes. It felt like she had just gotten further away from him now that they could flee.

"Lucien…" Claire murmured to herself.

"Oi, ya think we can leave now?" Rusty looked at Maximillian and Betty eagerly.

The middle aged archer said nothing. Betty also looked at him and gave him a slight elbowing.

"Dad?" she asked.

"…Guess we'll see, Bett," was all Maximillian dared to offer.

Ingrid, Gloria, and the three spearmen hid just inside the gate, listening, but there was nothing but fleeing birds that had been disturbed by the blast and distant ocean waves. The crickets had begun chirping again. The half-dwarves listened intently for footsteps, chanting, anything, but there was just nothing after that explosion out in that open field. Nary a tree, rock, or even grass tall to hide someone was out there.

"What in Hel's name?" Gloria whispered.

"Watch yer tongue, girl," Bedelia scolded.

Both hybrids jumped, giving her grandmother startled looks.

Bedelia made a shooing motion with her hand in response, "Don't be starin' at me. We hafta see who blew the gate before the Sheriff's men arrive. Go."

Ingrid and Gloria nodded. There was nothing to do but to take the plunge. The pinkette and blonde hybrids sidled around to the parted inner edges of the doors and peered around the sides. Bedelia stood in the gap with arrow aimed. Sweat dripped down the side of Gloria's face as she stared in bewilderment and worry, but her dwarven vision wielded nothing.

The trio of einherjar stood invisible in the grass, waiting for the people to come out.

"Oh, dear," Nanami fretted, cupping her hand around her mouth. "Do you think we scared them too badly?"

Jelanda groaned, clutching her sceptre tightly. "I think we might have overdid it."

"Probably," Arngrim plopped down in the grass, cradling his head in one his hands. "It might take the army comin' for them to get 'em to move now."

Gloria gave the world outside a determined look, deciding on what had to be done.

"We can't stay here, Ingrid," she said. "Not with the Sheriff intent on killing anyone who has so much as ever bumped shoulders with Lucien. We must flee."

"But how can we be sure this is a boon?" Ingrid asked. "This could be a trap."

"The gods, the servants of Hel, it doesn't matter," Gloria interjected. "We have to go."

"But Miss Gloria.,." one of the spearmen protested.

"Quiet, ye," Bedelia ordered.

The retired assassin contemplated her granddaughter, and then nodded.

"Ay, yer right, child," Bedelia conceited. Then she looked at Ingrid in the corner of her eyes. "Ingrid, get them movin'. It be time."

Ingrid faltered, caught between her doubt and her trust in her grandmother's orders. Her pink eyes looked at both Gloria and Bedelia, who nodded urging her again. Making an unhappy grumble in her throat, Ingrid gave in and ran back through the gates.

"Alright, listen, everyone," she announced. "We be movin'. I don't know who or how's busted the gate open for us, but they did. The way's clear, so come on."

Roughly half the began getting ready, with Miss Dolce and the older children of the orphanage being the first. Cedric was among those who hesitated, but he stood, crossing his arms stubbornly.

"Ye expect us to go out there?" he pointed past Ingrid.

Ingrid glared back, but he wasn't finished.

"Somethin' or someone pounded that gate with magic," Cedric held out his open palms with his fingers curled tensely. "And you expect us t' be target practice?"

Ingrid swallowed her annoyance with him, taking a breath before answering. "We're gonna be target practice in here if we stay. Ye seen the new crossbows the Sheriff's men got now? Went clean through the wood of a thick table top."

Back at the street corner, Maximillian shuddered at the memory. Betty and Rusty felt pangs of morbid curiosity, but the archer's daughter kept her mouth shut.

Rusty, on the other hand, impulsively blurted out, "That what got Quint and the others?"

Maximillian nodded. "Yep. We was damn lucky they didn't get many chances to use 'em back then. Damn near killed us."

Betty noticed Claire flinch at the memory.

"Come on," Maximillian prompted with a wave towards the crowd at the gate. "It's about time we be goin'."

"Right," Betty affirmed confidently and followed her father close.

Rusty came next, while Claire lingered. He quickly noticed and looked back. She crossed one of her arms, clutching the elbow of the other as she fidgeted and looked back. Rusty shook his head, mouthing, "You can't."

Claire still hung back, with her mind telling her body to move and her heart rooting her in place. Rusty held out his hand and she hesitantly took it, allowing herself to be led towards the gate. They stopped in the back to allow the civilians to go first.

Ingrid spoke again, looking at Cedric, "Death follows if we stay here. It's buggered, but those be our choices. Now get movin'."

Ingrid exited out again, and could already hear the crowd beginning to follow her, shuffling and reluctant as some of those footsteps might have been. Bedelia and Gloria had taken up position along the sides of the gate exterior, a pair of watchful sentries as everyone filed out.

With precious few moments left to think about that. Claire again looked to the end of the street, contemplating if she really wanted to leave Lucien. The gate was open. If he was still alive, then maybe…

"What if… he doesn't hafta die?" Claire asked herself.

When Rusty heard a distinct lack of footsteps following, he snorted wearily. He knew Claire was hesitating again and glanced back.

"Hey," he softly called.

Rusty reached back, intending to grab her hand, thinking to lead her away like last time. Maximillian and Betty also paused, watching the redhead. Betty held her breath. When Claire didn't take Rusty's hand, he gently grabbed her wrist again. She did not withdraw when he did.

"Claire," Rusty gently urged. He nodded his head at the gate behind him. "Come on. 'Tis time to go. There be nothin' more we can do now."

It took a moment, but she managed to tear herself away from her longing for Lucien to look at her friend. Rusty tugged on her wrist, urging her to get moving.

"Claire," he repeated, more pressingly.

Claire's eyes flitted between destinations as her mind reeled. Thoughts of Lucien dying alone to the sheriff's men with no one there for him in his final moments flashed through her mind.

"Could I really… just live happily without him?" she thought. "Could I really live with myself if I didn't try to bring him back alive?"

"Claire," another tug on her arm.

She almost allowed herself to be pulled along with him, nearly taking that first step as her foot began to shuffle forward. Claire's eyes squeezed shut as she made her decision. She stepped back, pulling against Rusty's grip.

"Ulf!" he grunted out as he nearly pulled off balance. Confusion and irritation crossed his features. "Claire!"

For the first time since she had been scolded by Bedelia, Claire's eyes flashed with defiant life, and she twisted out of his grasp. He gave her another irate look.

"Claire, bloody Hel," he swore.

Maxmillian and Betty turned with a start, wearing matching anxious expressions as it became clear what the ginger thief was about to do.

"Claire, no," Betty firmly told her.

Claire's shrill retort was instant, "I'm going to him!"

"What? Ye outta yer mind?" Rusty cried desperately. "There's naut but death waitin' if ye stay here! Ain't ye been listenin' to anyone?"

Claire's fists clenched at her sides.

"I don't care," she insisted, not caring how childish she sounded. "I can't leave 'im! I'm goin' to find Lucien! I hafta try! I can't just not try t' save 'im!"

"Like Hel ye are!" Rusty shouted.

He moved to block her from leaving, but Claire was nimble and managed to dodge around him before taking off in a dead sprint.

"Claire!" Maximillian, Betty, and Rusty all shouted.

They chased after her. Father and daughter passed Rusty and raced ahead of him. Maximillian and Betty ran as hard as they could, but they could not overtake Claire, who easily stayed in pace with them, keeping them several steps behind.

"Damn it! Damn it! Damn it!" Betty cried with increasing desperation with each shout.

Claire reached the end of the short street, and darted left, heading towards the fighting. Maximillian and Betty slowed, stopping at the corner. Maximillian put his hand to the building, leaning on it. Claire scurried out of view into one of the alleys and was gone. Maximillian and could not believe the selfish, foolhardy decision she had just made. Behind them, Rusty's heavy footsteps patted up until he joined them at the corner. He looked around like a hunted rabbit, trying to find her.

"Where'd she go?" his voice was high with worry.

Maximillian grunted, pointing up the street in the direction of the fighting. Rusty stared into the distant ends of the street with shaking fists.

"No," he emphatically cried.

He took off with a start to follow Claire.

"Wait, damn ye!" Betty began to follow him, intending to stop him.

Before she had gotten four steps out onto the street, something grabbed her from behind, spun her around and shoved her back towards the gate. Betty protested and sputtered the whole way. She had been shoved hard enough to force her forward a few steps. She turned with shocked irritation to see who had stopped her. It was none other than her father. Maximillian was already going after Rusty to pursue Claire.

"Dad!" Betty cried.

"Hold it!" Maximillian held up a halting out as he looked back as her. He did not stop running. "I'll get 'em both back. You just run for it, Bett!"

Betty watched her father and Rusty disappear down the same alleyway after Claire. Her every inclination told her to pursue, for she had already sworn not the leave the city without him. However, even in the depths of fear and desperation, Betty knew that would just upset her father and distract him when he needed to focus the most. If there was to be any hope he would come back from this, she knew his attentions would have to be sharply focused on the task at hand, instead of worrying about her. So, Betty, with great reluctance, chose to obey her father this time.

"Ye better not die, Papa, or I'll 'ave all the afterlife to kick ye 'round for leavin' me," she threatened.

Then she turned and fled for the gate. To her surprise, she passed Bedelia rushing back to the end of the street. The old woman stopped at the corner and hollered at Rusty and Maximillian, hoping they were still in air shot.

"WE'LL BE HEADIN' FOR LASSEN BY WAY O' THE SHORELINE EAST OF THE TURGEN MOUNTAINS!"

The men were gone and there was no confirmation they had heard.

"Gods be with ye," Bedelia murmured.

---

"Here they come," Lucien warned.

He and Kat braced themselves behind their little stone barrier, watching for archers as the Sheriff's men appeared at the top. The warriors who scaled to the summit first, pausing when they saw how close Lucien and Kat were before carefully descending. The rebels came out from behind their protection but remained near it. Kat picked up a fist-sized rock and threw it, intending to bean one of the sheriff's deputies in the head. He blocked it with his shield.

"That how you wanna do it?" he shouted.

Then he and the rest of the first wave descending the slope together, staying in formation perfectly. They slowed when one man stumbled before picking up the pace again with intent to overwhelm Lucien and Kat.

"Shit," Lucien cursed.

He caught a horizontal strike from the enemy right in front of him by swinging his sword in an upward arc, but then was forced to retreat as four more men came in, looking to surround him. He backed up into the little barricade. Lucien hopped the little wall, narrowly avoiding getting chopped to pieces. He looked around nervously from side to side at the crowd of men coming at him. The tide had turned quickly.

"Damn. They figured out that they need to stand together," Lucien thought.

He looked toward Kat to order a retreat to find her down on her knees, pushed down with multiple men at once. She could not break free, within seconds took a lance to the chest and fell onto her back. Now Lucien was alone against a deluge of lawmen.

The sheriff's men came down the slope at him, but they were not replaced with another row right away. Instead, Agatha herself ascended to the summit, alone. Lucien noticed her, and saw the crossbow. He mentally cursed her and lowered himself as he backed away from the little barricade as the soldiers approached. One of them smirked and pushed it over. Lucien was forced to back up further to avoid having it land on him. In the process, he almost lost his balance when the broken brickwork underfoot shifted around. Lucien cursed again, knowing he was standing on loose ground that might slide out from under him at the right provoking. He felt exposed even if the sheriff did not have a clean shot at him yet. Worse, he knew he could not move quickly on that ground. His opponents seemed to realize the same thing and the man closest to him jumped down to the edge of the loose brickwork, giving it a good stomp.

"You bast…" Lucien was cut off as his feet were whipped out from under him.

He curled up to protect his head and was sent rolling the loose debris down the slope. The fall was rough. His armor mostly protected him during the fall, but he still received some nasty bangs before coming to at the bottom and he cracked his head on a brick, leaving him dazed. Lucien came to rest on his right side, landing roughly. The only reason thing that kept him conscious was the sharp pain in his shoulder nearly becoming dislocated from its socket. The pain burned through the fog that threatened to dull his senses and brought back him to the waking world with a scream. Lucien rolled over onto his other side, clutching his aching shoulder. He sat up with sluggish, painful motion, only able to use his left arm at the moment. He hissed and clenched his teeth as the very act of moving making more pain shoot up and down his right side. He spat several words he was unconsciously grateful the children were not around to hear.

Lucien looked up to the top of the mount, seeing his enemies had stayed put after his fall, instead of coming down to finish him.

"Huh?" he could not fathom why.

Then Agatha barked a single order, and her men stepped to the sides, parting for her. Lucien bristled as he watched the sheriff carefully step between her men. She had kept the crossbow carefully aimed downward to avoid hitting anyone accidentally, but as soon as she had a shot, she held up, silently gloating to him.

"So, you're going to enjoy yourself, eh?" Lucien angrily realized. "A cruel master of Gerebellum to the last."

He was glad he had held onto his sword and would not have to stop to retrieve it. He forced himself onto his feet. There was an ache in one of his knees, and the ground was too unsteady for him to finish climbing down at any speed. He would just have to hop the final distance down.

"Just as sweet as pie," Agatha hummed out the words.

Smiling coldly, Agatha lowered the bow and aligned the site with her eye. She finally had Lucien dead where he stood. There would never be another moment like it after she pulled the trigger. Just as she had it aimed, Lucien made his move. He turned and jumped down from the mount, but he failed to land with firm footing, which caused him to stumble forward and fall onto his hands. Agatha fired, and the bolt hit Lucien in the back of his right thigh. The scarlet swordsman cried out and fell onto his stomach.

"Ggggggods damn it," Lucien's strained hiss went unheard.

Agatha grabbed another bolt. "You, men, seize him. Do not let him escape."

"Ay, ay, Milady Sheriff!" her men shouted.

Lucien did not stay down. The searing pain weakened him, but he bore the pain, biting deeply into his lower lip as he forced himself up again. He heard the sheriff's men coming down the slope, but did not stop to get a look at them, and immediately began limping away into the nearest alleyway.

Agatha sneered as she loaded the next bolt, and shouted, "Stop him! Do not let him use the alley as a choke!"

Lucien was gone around the corner on the left the very next second before her men could get down to the street. As Agatha wrung the crossbow's handle with one of her hands, she almost did not take her finger off the trigger first.

"After him, now!" she bellowed down to her men.

"Ay, Ma'am!" they answered again.

Then they pursued Lucien into the backstreet.

"Wut about the rest o' us?"

Agatha looked back at the men who had hung back. She answered by pointing straight ahead, towards the southeast corner of the city.

"The rest of you will continue onto the gate," she ordered. "If they've still cornered themselves on that dead-end street, put them to the sword. If they've gotten it open and fled, get the hounds and pursue them."

"Yes, Sheriff," the deputy saluted. He turned to her other subordinates as Agatha went on at the head of the attachment. "You 'eard her, you miscreant dobbies! To the old gate!"

When they reached the bottom, Agatha split off from her main force, following Lucien and her men down that alleyway while her main force raced ahead to the gate. The sheriff slowed paced inside, spotting her men no further than halfway through. This backstreet intersected with other littles lanes and there were several old ramshackle buildings Lucien could have ducked into.

"Oh, this is just perfect," Agatha growled.

"Milady Sheriff," the officer came back towards her. He looked at each the building entrances uncertainly. "He could have gone anywhere."

"Wrong," Agatha answered. She had slowed to a walk, also looking around, trying to pinpoint the most likely hole Lucien would have slunk into. "Our quarry will have gone somewhere he can make his final stand. He's injured and his movements are inhibited. He will be somewhere nearby. Carefully comb the nearby area. He is here."

"Ay, Sheriff!"

---

"Ugh, more of the Sheriff's swine heads," Claire hissed.

She was flat against the side of an old brewery. The sheriff's man passed. As soon as they were gone, Claire slid around the back corner to the building's rear. Then she crept, keeping low because the old brewery was riddled with holes, making it easy for someone to glance through them and see someone on the other side of the building. Claire's felt a shudder as another group ran past, heading towards the gate. She was just glad it had somehow been opened before the sheriff's men broke through. Her heart felt like it was knotted in her chest at the implication of this development. Had she been too late to see Lucien alive last time? Claire thinned her lips, keeping them clamped shut, hoping that was not the case.

"I just hafta… try savin' him," she desperately thought. "But how do I find him?"

"Aurgh! Blasted hawk-nosed she-goat!"

Claire initially jumped as the voice rang out from the alleys ahead, but recognition brought focused her mind again quickly.

"Lu-Lucien?" she thought hopefully.

Claire stopped at the end of the brewery's backside, checking the street before crossing to the next old ruin.

"I'm comin', Luce. Just hold in," she swore.

---

Lucien breathed, trying to control the pain in his leg. He had not bothered trying to quiet the cry that escaped his lips when he pulled the bolt from his leg, nor the curse on his lips. He grunted in pain again as he pulled the bandages tight around the wound.

"There, that oughtta get some attention," Lucien thought through the pain.

He sat, leaned against the bottom layer of bricks above the foundation of a ruined house, hidden a bit off the beaten path of the slums. While he rested a moment, he listened for the final approach of the sheriff's men. He could not run anywhere once they arrived. So, he would take his rest until they came. Lucien leaned his head back and relaxed, trying to catch his strength. He was so tired, physically and mentally now. The entire ordeal of the night had taken its toll.

"Quint, Joe, Taran, Thalia… Baren… so many dead so senselessly…" Lucien lamented. "And more dying still. For what? The greed and egos of the nobility? Damn them."

There was one thing Lucien could still take comfort in, though. "At least Claire's safe.

While he still could, Lucien reached into his pocket and pulled out the lock of Platina's silver hair, looking at it one last time. He couldn't help but wonder what Platina would think if she could see him. Unknown to him, Lenneth hovered nearby, watching him melancholically.

"Such a sad soul."

"She'd probably scold me," Lucien thought with a bitter laugh. "She was always so worried about us. Even when…"

An angry grimace crossed his features. "Even when she had her own problems."

Then a melancholic feeling took him.

"Well, if this is it, I hope the scales have finally been balanced for my failures," Lucien thought.

He clutched the lock of hair tightly in his fist, saddened he could not take it with him when he shed his mortal coil. Maybe someone would find it and bury it with him, but he doubted it. If the Sheriff had her way, his corpse's final resting place would be an undisclosed ditch somewhere. He felt surprisingly numb to his incoming demise. The wind blew through that area, taking Lucien back to that Weeping Lily field again. He tensed up from the memory and opened his eyes drown the vivid imagery out in the realty right in front of him. He lifted his head, finding himself alone again.

"I hate being alone," he muttered. "Claire… I wish I could see you… No, I hope you got out safely. Forget me."

"Lucien?"

The blonde jerked up, intaking such a large amount of air, he nearly choked on it. There Claire stood, just inside one of the little lanes leading out into that forgotten corner of the city. Lucien gaped, in dumbfounded silence. Unable to move, unable to think. The only thing that registered in Lucien's mind was a hurricane of emotions, all of them of the negative persuasion. Claire ran towards him with an expression of worry adorning her features. Lucien pushed himself to his knees, still staring in shock.

"No. No. No no no, you can't be here," Lucien's mind rang with terror. "Not here. Not now."

As soon as she reached him, Claire dropped to a knee and held Lucien's shoulders, looking him over.

"By the gods, Lucien, what ye alright?" she breathlessly asked. "How bad is it?"

Now, with her holding his shoulders as she scanned his body for injuries, Lucien's mind recovered from the shock. His expression darkened as anger came to the forefront of his emotions.

"Claire," the single word was a stern command for her attention. Claire stopped what she was doing Lucien. In his eyes she saw unbelieving anger. As he spoke again, Lucien's jaw was tight and his voice curt. "What are you doing here? Why aren't you with the others?"

Claire took a breath. She had expected him to be angry, but that didn't matter right now.

"Well, how could I not?" she empathically demanded, throwing her hands up. "I had t' at least try comin' to fetch ya."

She reached her arms around him in a hug. "And oh, bless the Norns, yer still alive. I knew there was still time."

Lucien did not return her hug. He just continued to stare in disbelief at her.

"Fetch me?" Lucien retorted. "You are mad? This is a battlefield! The sheriff's men will find us in a moment! Claire, have you to leave, now!"

"Not without ya," Claire insisted.

Lucien tried to scowl.

"Claire, this is no time to be stubborn," he stated. "You have to flee."

"Then come with me," Claire tugged on his arms.

"…I can't," Lucien reluctantly answered.

Claire's brow wrinkled with concern and confusion. "…Why not?"

"This," Lucien gestured to the bandage around his thigh. "Sheriff got me good. Might have even hurt the bone."

Then Claire broke the embrace, but kept a grip on his biceps, looking all the more desperate.

"I can support you," she insisted with urgency. "If we're clever. We'll make it. If yer hurt, 'tis just all the more reason to run now."

Lucien cocked a brow, utterly bewildered at her apparent lapse in sanity.

"Run?" he snapped. "That'll just take them to the others at the gate."

"The gate's open," Claire quickly replied. "They was just headin' out when I broke from Rusty to come fetch ye."

Lucien's fist clenched. Every ounce of self-control he still possessed was now dedicated to not screaming at the woman in front of him about the sheer bullheaded foolhardiness of coming back when escape had been that close for her. He pounded a fist against the hard ground in frustrated anger.

"Damn you, Rusty. I knew I shoulda left this to Bedelia!" he blurted out.

Now it was Claire's turn to be upset.

"Don't be mad at him. He tried to stop me," she rebuke. "He even explained the situation."

Lucien crossly glared back. "And you will chose to come chasing after me knowing I wanted ya to just get out and live?"

"Oh, stow it," though that sounded more like a plea. Claire reined it in. "Lucien, we can escape together. Just the two of us. We can go anywhere."

Lucien chest tightened as she all but echoed words he can encouraged Platina with five years before. He trembled and began hyperventilating, as images of himself and Claire alone in the wilderness were conjured. He saw her, exposed to the dangers of the wilds with just himself to protect her. He saw the Weeping Lily field waiting for Claire. He saw himself holding her dying body. Claire took a step back from Lucien he broke into a cold sweat as his eyes moved rapidly as though he were in the depth of REM sleep, only he was waking, and his blues were wide open.

"Luci…"

That triggered something in him, and he grabbed Claire by the arms before jumping to his feet, dragging her up with him.

Lucien's body jerked, and he shouted, "NO!" as though being catapulted from a nightmare.

Claire pushed against his chest, alarmed and unsure of what he was going to do. This wasn't much different than his outburst and near breakdown in the business center when they learned Barren was due for execution the previous day. It had led to their current predicament, putting Claire on edge now. She hated that she was looking on her lover with fear. Once his emotions were boiling over, Lucien had proven he could be unpredictable and stubborn.

When he saw how much he was worrying Claire, Lucien let go of her arms and backed off. He gathered himself before speaking, trying to keep his voice low, "Claire… that is a terrible idea. Just the two of us? You have no idea what you're saying."

"Why?" Claire demanded. "We both know how to survive in and out a city. Now, come on. We can still get out if we hurry."

Lucien had many things to say to that. It had been hell being just a boy alone in the wilderness for weeks after losing Platina, and nearly dying multiple times. So many retorts run through his head that it caused him to stall on an answer as he stared at her in incredulity. Then something moved in one of the alleys behind her. Lucien's focus shifted from the redhead and his face fell as he recognized the smiling face of Sheriff Agatha. She was flanked by four of her men. What really made his blood run cold was seeing his enemy raise that crossbow and aim.

Lucien's body acted on its own. His hands grabbed Claire and pushed her out of the way practically in junction with the Sheriff pulling the bow's trigger. While Claire fell to the side, the bolt whistled through air.

THUNK!

The world went silent for a moment. Agatha and her men smiled. Claire lied prone for a moment. With a grunt, she rolled over, and looked up heatedly, ready demand answers. Then her eyes stopped on the bolt that had punched deep through Lucien's chest-plate. Claire screamed. Lucien grimaced in pain, grabbing at the bolt. It felt like his chest was being squeezed in a vice as it quickly becoming painful to breathe. Every movement of his chest felt like his insides were being torn apart more.

His legs went weak, and he dropped onto his knees again.

"Damn it," Lucien wheezed.

"Lucien!" Claire got up onto her knees and tried to hold him steady. Teats stung at her eyes as she watched blood begin to trickle down his chest-plate. "Oh, gods, no. Please, no."

Agatha's underlings' grins deepened as they marched forward, brandishing their knives and short swords. The sheriff stayed back, reaching into the quiver, pulling out another bolt. She wasn't foolish enough to stand around with an unloaded crossbow. Claire and Lucien heard the sheriff's men coming and turned. The ginger thief took out both her knives stood, turning to face them.

"Back to the depths wit' ye!" Claire shouted. "Ye'll not touch 'im!"

Lucien looked up, staring at the back of her head, trying to speak through lungs filling with liquid.

"Claire… no…" he coughed out.

"Oh, no!" came a jeer from one of the sheriff's men. "Hear that, lads! This pretty little thing's gonna play wit' us!"

"Ye want to play, girlie?" one of the others taunted, licking his lips suggestively. "Yer a bit overdressed to be playin' wit' us."

"Ay, ye might hafta lose the dress 'n' get on yer back," another goaded.

Lucien silently growled as these men made their intentions for Claire very clear as they closed in around the pair. His lips pulled back to reveal grinding, clenched teeth. Claire flipped her daggers to the reserve grip as she tried to hide her fear, intending to fight to the last in hopes of forcing these degenerates to just end her without being able to carry out their worst fantasies. She did not dare move from Lucien's side, not even to prevent herself from being surrounded. Someone had to protect him. She looked past them at Agatha, who seemed unphased by her men's conduct.

"Don't doubt she'd just let 'em," Claire thought bitterly.

The four men encircled Claire. The ginger dug her heels in and gripped her daggers tighter, anticipating the attack. Then the first man shot forward, and the rest followed his lead. Claire drew her daggers in, eyes moving between her sides to anticipate the first blow. Then, right before the four men could reach them, Claire felt something move behind her, and then one word uttered,

"Duck."

The redhead, without question, dropped into a crouch and not a second later, a long sword flew horizontally in a circle right over her. The Sheriff's men had been stopped dead in their tracks with their weapons blocked by a single, quick stroke. They nearly fell back in surprise and fear, for Lucien was on his feet again. He gave them no quarter. Claire watched as he cut the four down as swiftly as he were unwounded and at full strength. They each fell, leaving only the sheriff with her crossbow at the end of the nearby alley. Lucien faced her and charged.

"Tch!" Agatha scoffed.

She had already reloaded and aimed her next shot. Lucien was a dead man either way.

"I just need you to put your other foot in the grave sooner than later," the sheriff thought with a snarl.

She pulled the trigger, but Lucien did not so much as try dodging to the sides, or even flinch. He just took the second bolt, which punctured through the lower plackart, piercing into his stomach. Lucien's bit his lip, letting out what could have been a groan or a growl, as he held the pain in. He did slow. He would not let pain distract from his task. His enemy was before him at last and almost in striking range. He let out a bloodthirsty scream as he raised his sword with skull-splitting intent.

Agatha backed up, drawing her sword from its sheath. He was too close for her to get another shot off. She would just have to kill him up close or fend him off long enough for him to succumb to his wounds. His first attack came down before she could draw her own weapon, so the sheriff stepped back and swung the crossbow, parrying it. Lucien managed to knock it loose from her hand. That was fine by her, because she had her sword out now. From the sidelines, Claire did the only thing she could, and watched, sitting on her knees. Lenneth hovered in the air beside the ginger. While worry and despair lined the girl's face, the Valkyrie wore only a quiet solemnness. She glanced at Claire, empathizing with her.

Agatha and Lucien's swords clashed and bounced off each other with a twanging vibrations. Both opponents bared their teeth like lions challenging each other for domination. They had each waited for this for a long time.

Agatha ran around to Lucien's side, climbing up a short mound of stone with two running steps and leapt from it. Her strike came down with her full body weight behind it, forcing Lucien to crouch and bend his torso. His brow and lips twitched as pain shot through his body, courtesy of the bolts sticking into it. Agatha put her full weight on her sword in attempt to force Lucien down further. The pain had an effect on Lucien, but not the one Agatha wanted. It adrenalized him. With a scream, he pushed back against her and sent her reeling backwards.

Lucien charged her again, leveling out his sword to take her head. The sheriff dropped below his swing and aimed to punch one of the bolts sticking into him to cause more harm. Lucien's elbow came down, blocking her fist, and then he swung down, forcing the lawwoman to launch herself into a side roll. Lucien turned on his heels, quickly giving chase. His next strike came down hard from above. Agatha blocked it, but just barely, and was pushed back further. Lucien kept up the pressure, coming at her with a series of slashes and stabs. His arms moved so quickly, overwhelming the sheriff.

Sweat dripped down Agatha's brow as she continued to be backed up. Never once in all her years hunting the Scarlet Swordsman and his gang did she imagine he would live up to the whispers she had heard about his skill. Yet, here she was now, being backed into a corner by the man she had sworn to kill that night, on her own last legs.

"Must… find an… opening…" her standing in this duel was precarious and she knew it. "There!"

When Lucien withdrew his sword this time, his arms lingered in the air. Exhaustion mus have taking its toll. Agatha jumped in, training the tip of her blade at his throat, intending to run it clean through and then turn it, beheading him and killing him quickly. A snide lopsided smirk formed on her face.

SHUCK!

A smirk that died just as soon when Lucien dipped to the side, and her sword stabbed the air beside his body, just under his armpit. Lucien hooked his right arm around the blade, entrapping it even if it cut into his unprotected flesh on the underside on his bicep. He braced the weapon against his body. The sheriff did not even feel it at first, but after she recovered from the shock, there was a burning sting in his stomach. The sheriff looked down, and her face contorted in despairing horror at the sight of Lucien's sword thrust into her center. She had lost. Agatha's head lulled back, almost limply, and she locked eyes with him one final time. They stared contemptuously at each other in that fleeting moment, an exchange which silently spoke of years at odds, of being the biggest thorns in each other's sides. They had mortally wounded each other. Lucien with the bolts sticking into his vitals, and her, with his sword thrust through several of hers'. Two very different people, and yet, in their mortality, shared the same fate.

Agatha might have even chuckled bitterly at having to share the same final resting place as her enemy, but she was fading too fast. Lucien flickered in and out of focus. Each time Agatha's eye refocused, it was briefer and briefer, and the world was growing darker each time.

"Not like…" Agatha uttered before falling.

Her backward descent dislodged Lucien's sword from his weakening grip. The Sheriff of Gerebellum came to rest. A moment later, Lucien fell to the ground unceremoniously, too. There was no neat drop to his knees, but a flop almost onto his side.

"Oh, no! Lucien!" Claire found her footing and ran to his side.

Lenneth hovered along behind her at a much slower pace.

"It is time," the Valkyrie intoned to a world that could not hear her.

"Lucien!" Claire wrapped her arms around him before pulling him into her lap.

Lucien groaned painfully as he moved, but he did not flinch, fight her, or otherwise protest. He instead stared off into space with eyes of regret and sorrow. They rolled up, towards Claire, focusing on her. Claire's own face was contorted in grief as twin trails of tears poured down her face.

"Why…? Why?" she begged. "I came back. The gate's open. And I still couldn't find ye in time!"

She threw her head skyward, towards the heavens, as though to demand an answer of the gods.

"Do ye really just delight in our sorrows that much?" she screamed.

Lenneth looked away, torn between being a little insulted, but empathizing with the woman's grief. Enough to that stayed any indignancy.

"The words of a grieving human are born from the neverending pain they're enduring," the Valkyrie told herself. "A pain as searing as any coals or brand."

Lucien's lips moved. When he spoke, his voice croaked like something was lodged in his throat, "For real… the gate had been opened? They left. They all got out?"

Claire nodded. "Mm-hm. Your plan worked, Lucien. Elder Bedelia will lead them someplace better on the other side of the wilderness."

That seemed to be put Lucien at ease, but he did not smile. Emotion flooded his eyes, and a tear rolled down.

"Good," he strained out. "I was hoping it'd be enough, if I could come this far. It wasn't in vain. Thank goodness."

Claire's fists clenched as her body quivered. Already, it felt like a deep hole was being carved through her center. The dying man she held was still trying to act tough.

"Damn it, Lucien!" the words just burst out of her.

As her hot tears hit his face, he looked up with a little surprise.

"Can't ye just be honest for once!" Claire begged him. "Yer dyin'! Please, just tell what ye need right now!"

Lucien's features softened as he stared up at her. A shaky hand slowly reached up and tried to clutch hers', but he was too weak now. So, Claire took initiative, intertwining his fingers with hers', and holding on tight. The cold began settled into Lucien's body, a stark reminder of the end. Whatever vestiges of a mask Lucien wore cracked and it was his turn to look up at Claire pleadingly.

"I don't want to be left alone again…" he confessed.

"What are you talkin' about?" Claire unsuccessfully tried to smile. "I'm here! No way I'll just run off and leave ya here."

Lucien's featured tightened as he looked nervous.

"But, I'm goin' somewhere you can't follow," his voice cracked under the fear and sorrow. "To the cold where the Unworthy go… It'll be just like bein' out there in the wilderness after… After I left Coriander Village."

Claire clenched his gloved hand tighter. She took a breath and leaned in, gently shushing him. He needed this final honesty, no matter what came out of his mouth.

"It's okay, it's alright. You can say it," Claire told him. "When Platina died, you were left all alone. And Unworthy? Lucien, there ain't no one more worthy than ye in all the Realms."

Lucien tried to laugh, but it came out as a series of coughs and a sickly choking.

"You're just sayin' that," he whispered. "The gods'd be mad to want me."

Claire hugged him tighter, holding him closer yet. "If they've any idea how much us peasants of the slums all love ye, they'd be mad to pass on ye."

Lucien's eyes began to cloud over, and his mind was beginning to fog. He focused on Claire, keeping his eyes locked on hers' for as long as he could. The icy hands of death were upon him. It was now or never to say his final piece.

"Claire, I'm sorry…" his voice was a soft whisper. "I'm fadin'… Get outta here…"

Then his head flopped back, and half-lidded eyes stared straight up. Claire gasped as though she had just been struck. Lucien's mouth was gaped open, but no more breath was being drawn. The redhead began vigorously shaking her head in futile denial.

"No… No… Oh, Freya please no!" she pled with the heavens above.

Claire leaned forward, putting her ear over his throat, but the breathing had completely stopped. A final look at Lucien's slack features told her the terrible truth. Claire flung herself onto him, clutching him tight around the middle and screamed. She lied across her lover's body, bitterly weeping as the sun finally broke over the horizon. The sunlight in all its majesty held no beauty for Claire this morning. It was the start of a new day. The first of many without Lucien by her side.

---

"Wh-where am I?"

Lucien looked around the dark void he suddenly found himself in. He had expected to awaken in the frozen wastes of Niflheim, to trudge through the tundra with the rest of the Unworthy. This darkness on all sides could not have been further from his expectation. He was about to cry out again, but then a familiar, refined voice interrupted him.

"We would be mad to want you, you say?"

Lucien whirled around and went slack jawed. Maybe a little more than a spear's length away was the one goddess in the Realms he never expected to see again: the silver-haired Valkyrie, the one who looked so, so much like Platina. Lenneth carried a haughty air, standing across from him with her arms crossed and her head held high.

"Awfully presumptuous of the will of the gods, are you not?" she asked.

Lucien did not answer right away.

"You…" he muttered in awe. "You're that woman from both those times. In town… in the mountains. You… you've really come…. For me?"

"Indeed, I have," she answered. "You, Lucien, are a destined soul. I have come to collect you to be among my einherjar."

Lucien had many questions, unable to fathom how he in any lifetime could be considered worthy. She had to know about the latest nonsense committed at his command, and yet, she was here. There was one question in particular which also niggled in his mind, of a different topic.

"Forgive me," Lucien bowed his head. "I believe you told me your name that day when we met in Headmistress Dolce's office, but it has slipped my mind. Would it be too much to ask for it again?"

Lenneth regarded him a moment before answering.

"I am The Valkyrie," she answered plainly. "Lady Valkyrie, to you, mortal."

"I understand, Val… Lady Valkyrie," Lucien quickly corrected himself. "I… I'm sorry… You still just so much like…"

When he trailed off, Lenneth picked up the slack.

"Like the girl you once knew," she finished. "Yes, I remember. Now, do you not wish to come with me? You have earned the right, no matter how you feel about yourself."

Lenneth's head tilted slightly as she looked into his eyes and felt his distress. "Something halts thee?"

Lucien reflexively looked away, as if seeking someone out, but they were still in that black void.

"It's Claire," he murmured. "I can't just abandon her."

"Mm," Lenneth nodded understandingly. "Would you be at peace if you knew she were safe?"

Then, for the first time, Lucien stared Lenneth in the eyes resolutely.

"Yes."

---

"Look at them there burn marks. It ain't natural."

The Sheriff's men had crowded around the southeast gate, hanging open on its aged hinges. The blackened marks were visible under a brightening sky. None of them had dared step through, fearing whatever unknown force had done it. An irate officer rode up on his horse, his head held high. He looked around at the men hesitating at the gate.

"Was it magic?" one of them murmured.

"But where'd they get a mage from?"

"I dunno, but it ain't natural."

"Oi, you men!" The officer pointed out into the field. "Reform the lines, and move out. We can still catch them before midday if we start now!"

The men exchanged looks, all uncertain and afraid, but none moved to do as ordered. The officer looked around, becoming angrier, and drew his sword.

"What are you all waiting for? I said get in formation and move out!" he hollered. "With Lucien gone, they'll be like headless poultry, aimless and scattered. Now come!"

They remained in place, and the officer cursed whoever let it out that Agatha's body had been found. It seemed without her, lower officers like him were just not as imposing. One of the men backed away from the cluster, holding up both hands. The officer glared at him, but the soldier just stared out at the field with eyes wide.

"No. No more," the soldier waved his hands back and forth in refusal. "Tryna fight Lucien's Silver Necklaces been naught but death for us all. Our comrades lie dead under mountains o' rubble. They line the streets in piles, and the stones be red wit' their blood."

Then he turned and fled the scene. The officer was about to turn his horse to chase him down when more of the men began backing away from the gate in fear.

"Yeah, yeah, I'm done," another soldier declared. "Chasin' dem's brought nothin' but bad fortune."

Several of the other men hurried away, too. A veritable domino effect occurred, and the officer for all his bluster and shouting could not stop it. The sight of the gate blasted open by something from outside had spooked the troops, and apart from that, they were tired. And they were done.

The officer remained back, alone, as he watched the three dozen remaining men of all those who had come with the Sheriff abandon their mission. His crop struck his horse's rear, whipping it into motion. It whinnied as it ran toward the men. They parted, letting him pass. The officer pulled the reins and turned his horse to the side at the head of the retreating soldiers.

"I will report you all," he ineffectually threatened. When no one stopped to obey, he added, "I will have you flogged and hanged for this desertion."

The wearied soldiers responded by walking right past him, with a few giving dismissive waves.

"I'll…" the officer tried again.

"Aw, shush," one of the men cut him off. "I ain't gettin' paid enough to go roughin' it out in the wood just to be set ablaze by some mage."

As far as they were concerned, nothing was worth the risk of coming to face to face with whatever unknown party had helped Lucien's rebels escape. The officer could only glower as they left.

"Disloyal heathens," his words grunted out through a tight jaw.

Soon, he was left behind, seething and grumbling to himself. Inevitably, he had no choice, and left the gate behind. So, he rode his rode away, leaving the place they had fought so hard to reach, empty-handed.

"I guess the corpse of the rebel leader will have to do," he decided.

As soon as he was gone, all was quiet on the southmost streets of Gerebellum. The sounds of destruction no longer were carried on the breeze, but smoke from the many fires permeated the air. The door of one of the buildings on the street then creaked open. It was crooked on its remaining hinge, which made pushing it open an awkward task. A green pair of eyes stared out through one of the crooked openings. Seeing the coast was clear, the figure pushed the door open from inside. He stepped out onto the porch and hold it open for the other two people hiding with him. They crept out, a man and a woman looked here and there, but the sheriff's men had indeed deserted this mission.

"We're damn lucky," the man at the door muttered, glaring at the woman. Her back was to him, so he had to make do boring a hole in the back of her red head with his eyes. He let the door swing shut. It slammed against the frame loudly. "That stunt you pulled ought to have gotten ya killed, Claire."

She could not even muster a snippy comeback that would have been more typical of her nature. Instead, she just kept watch without turning to look back at Maximillian as he joined her and Rusty out on the road.

"Just her?" Rusty glanced at Maximillian dubiously. "That stunt coulda got us all buggered."

"Ah!" Maximillian waved him off. The archer whipped off his violet bandana, scratching at his graying black hair grumpily. "At least they turned out to be a buncha superstitious ninnies."

Claire looked at them, hesitating to ask the important question. Maximillian caught the look.

"What is it?" he glumly asked.

"…Don't suppose you heard where Bedelia planned to go before ye came after me?"

"Lassen," Rusty answered plainly. "By the route along the shore east of the Turgen Mountains."

Claire nodded, acknowledging she heard. Then, Maximillian and Rusty both maneuvered around Claire, so she was at the head of the line heading for the gate.

"Ladies first," they both insisted, pointing straight southeast.

Claire just sighed wearily and nodded compliantly. She headed towards the gate without argument. She knew they just wanted her where they could see, but she really could not find it in herself to care. She ached with a longing that could never be fulfilled again. Claire crossed her arms, hugging herself as though cold, rubbing her eyes.

The two men exchanged slightly worried glances, mutually hoping this was something she could recover from. After a bit, Claire picked up the pace and the three moved for the last street at a jog's pace. Within minutes, they took the last right and crossed the final stretch to the gate. When they reached it for this second time, they did not pay the strange burn marks on the outside a second look, nor they even pause before heading out of the city.

Once in the open field, the air began to clear of smoke and they smelled the dampness of the morning mew upon the grass. Three sets of heavy, tired eyes met in turns as they trudged over the green. They were free, with the only last stretch of open ground between them and the trees. Nary a single archer stood upon the wall over the gate.

"Thank ye, whoever 'twas that blasted the gate open for us," Rusty had glanced back cautiously, only half believing the lack of trouble they were having. "Ye sure spooked the city guard int' stayin' away."

Within twenty minutes, they reached the tree line. By this time, all caution had been forgotten and Rusty and Maximillian rushed into the cover of the green and bark. Only Claire dallied, stopping just outside the trees. She turned and looked one last time at the city she had lived in for most of her life and hated for as long. Smoke will rose from the city high into the sky. If not for the one person she cared for above all else, Claire would have cared nothing about leaving. She tried to breathe deeply, but found it hitching up as she overwhelmed again with sorrow.

Claire looked skyward as the wind rustled her hair and clothing. She wondered where her Lucien had gotten himself to. Was he in Valhalla now? Or was he truly lost in the frozen wastes of Niflheim as he feared? She only hoped he had finally found peace wherever he'd gone.

"Please, Lucien," she silently begged. "Please, just don't become one of the Undead. As far as I'm concerned, yer business with Platina and meself is done. Please be at peace."

She lingered just a bit longer, allowing herself to enjoy the breeze on her face. It felt as though it were trying to reassure her. If nothing else, it wasn't the stagnant air of the city.

"Oi! Claire! No fallin' behind! We're ain't comin' for ye a second time, no matter I've promised Lucien!"

"Yeah, yeah, I'm comin'," Claire snapped back. She had already turned to join them. "Keep yer pants on. Ain't like they'll dare follow for at least a day or two."

Then she was gone, into the brush.

"Satisfied?"

Lenneth observed Lucien as he stared after Claire. She and her einherjar stood back, allowing their newest recruit to watch his lover leave, undisturbed. After Claire's movements were no longer visible through the trees and leaves, Lucien faced his new team.

"Yes. Thank you," he answered with a slight smile.

"Now, then," Lenneth announced. She stepped out of line with her einherjar. "We have no further business here. Let us return to Valhalla now, my noble einherjar."

Lucien watched in wonder as she first hovered into the air, and then they all did. Even after the flight to follow Claire, this was all still new to him and he could not help but look around as they ascended from the earth, rising higher and higher into the sky. Lenneth hid a smile of mild amusement at his expense, masking it quickly with a look of indifference as she turned her eyes skyward. Then she flew off, whisking them away from the scene of death below.