The Noble War

Armored Scavenger's fan-fiction. Fifth and final part of The Scavenger Series #2: The Four Terrors.
This is the sequel to Mystical Collaboration. The next story and the first story in the third series is Among the Magnificence.
Have fun reading and helpful comments are welcome! :D
== Prologue ==
Reginald and Amelia Northwood, 1st Regiment of the Line, Free City of Terchen. Husband and wife.
It was a foggy morning one chilly day in the free city of Terchen. High up in the mountains, surrounded by thick walls and defended by the most advanced and organized soldiers in all of Pyrrhia, there was no need for fear or alarm throughout the entire town. Life started off as usual, with workers heading to their jobs along cobblestone streets lit by gas streetlamps and the smell of bread baking in the bakeries. It was amazing to see such a rich and peaceful city in the the perilous land that it was surrounded by. While the rest of the continent was in turmoil or about to be, Terchen was away from it all. 
Reginald woke up in his lovely two-story house on Maple Street, two city blocks away from the main road. He lived there with his newly-wedded wife, Amelia, and both would soon leave for the barracks on the other side of town. They walked together on the road as people hurried off to their destinations, greeting them on the way or pushing quickly past them. The two were in full uniform. Each wore a blue uniform with golden decorations, tall black boots, shako hats each with a white plume, and a belt of ammunition for the muskets they carried on their shoulders, fitted with a sharp bayonet. It was hard to believe how far Terchen's army had changed after the war had ended. There were no more knights with heavy armor and swords. Terchen would be defended by regiments of foot soldiers armed with firearms. 
By the time the fog had lifted and the sky had become a beautiful blue, the two had heard a multitude of footsteps running through the streets. When they turned the corner, they saw soldiers making their way towards the entrance of the city, weapons drawn and ready. A moment later, there was gunfire.
Reginald and Amelia looked at each other, but neither uttered a word. They knew what each other was thinking. Then they ran alongside the other soldiers to the entrance. Reginald saw that at least three different foot regiments were taking part, along with an artillery unit and a dragoon cavalry regiment. The local police were stepping in as well.
At the entrance stood the iconic arch that had withstood everything for centuries. Legend says that the words carved on the arch were as ancient as the city itself. On top of the wall there were soldiers firing their weapons and people firing cannons. Others were firing from under the arch, while some were standing behind it. The reinforcements were still coming to help. It appeared that they were forcing whoever was attacking back to wherever they were coming from. Despite all of this, there had been no orders for such a defense to take place. The soldiers had taken it upon themselves to fight, without any commands from any officers. Only one officer was present, a colonel wearing a heavy blue coat, a tricorne hat, and wielding a sabre. 
It had all appeared to be under control until Reginald and Amelia saw their first glimpses of the enemy. It was a figure wearing pitch-black chainmail armor and attacking with a midnight-black sword and shield. The most haunting thing, though, was the mask and hood it wore over its face. It was a mask that glowed like a candle and it depicted a face of two black holes for eyes. Each mask also had a wicked smile that seemed to laugh at the death of its enemies. More and more of them came, and soon another variant of soldier appeared. This one wore black leather armor and held a bow, and it had a mask as well, but its eyes were rectangular slits and there was no mouth. 
One by one the defenders were falling. Arrows pierced uniforms and swords slashed flesh. The entrance had been breached as the enemy scaled the hill and made its way into town. Reginald and Amelia fired their weapons, but they did nothing. The bullets clearly hit and pierced the black armor, but the attackers did not fall. Reginald charged with the bayonet on his musket and stabbed one attacker through the chest. He looked deep into the mask and was worried he would be lost in it. He felt as if he were falling into a trance with the eyes and the eerie glow. What was most disturbing was the lack of emotion. The bayonet, despite going through what should have been the heart, had no effect. The attacker raised its sword over its head to swing a deadly blow, but Amelia dove and pushed her dazed husband away from harm. 
On the ground the two looked hopelessly as another masked soldier approached them with a much larger sword that it carried with two hands. It was about to lunge when a bullet struck its mask and shattered it like glass. The sword fell harmlessly onto the ground along with the body of the soldier. Calls and shouts were rung out and the couple realized their comrades were retreating back into the city. Warning bells rung. 
Reginald and Amelia fell back to the tunnels where only a few soldiers made it to the underground. What was left of their regiment was now crawling through the ground through secret passageways that led outside into Pyrrhia. The newlyweds kissed and embraced each other and then they entered the secret way out of Terchen. They could still hear cannons, gunfire, and screams as they crawled through the ground, and even when they made it to the other side it still rang in their ears. The two had met up with the remnants of all of the regiments. They stood in a green and gorgeous meadow covered with blue flowers. They had no idea what to do from that moment on.
== Part 1: ==
=== Chapter 1: Candlelight ===
Where am I?
There was no noise, there was no light, and for a long moment there was no feeling. A second later, the faint noise of the wind, the light of candles, and a pain in the shoulders, arms, and chest set in. 
Where did they take us?
She looked around, aided by the light of the candle placed in a niche in the cold, stone wall. In front of her there was a cell door with bars keeping them confined in one area. On the ground there was nothing more than a stone floor with bits of hay and dirt covering it. Something wicked laid beside a bucket, and something dark was resting inside the wooden container. She tried to move, but she could not. She looked to her side and at her arms, but knew what it was already from the pain she felt around her wrists. She was hanging on the wall from her wrists, which spontaneously caused great pain and uncomfortable numbness.
She tried to move her body around, but all she managed to do was sway back and forth. The cell was cold. Her uniform did little to warm her up and without her hat her head was exposed to the chilly air that circulated around the room. Her breathing was slowing down and every breath she took hurt. Her chest hurt as the cold air seeped into her mouth and down her throat.
She continued to look around. It took her a moment to realize that she was not alone in this room. Next to her on her left was a man, and in the candlelight his armor shone dimly. Under his feet were two wooden arches with some feathers attached to them and there were loose feathers on the floor. He hung loosely from his chains as if he had already given up, but in fact he was breathing, but not conscious. 
On her right there was another figure, this one wearing white robes that covered his entire body and legs. Over his head was a helmet, but she knew who this was anyways. He hung loosely from his chains as well, but unlike the man on her left, he did not appear to be alive at all.
Wladyslaw...and Caspar. I am Kyra, and someone will regret this.
Kyra tried with all her might to set herself free. Nothing seemed to work as she pulled her arms down against the cuffs as she swung and when she tried to pull herself up. But it appeared, as she performed a great many combinations of all of them, that something was loosening. The cuffs were gradually opening. 
She pulled her arms, moved them in every way possible, then tried to push herself down to the floor. Then she felt her arm slip out of the cuff and her body flew to the side and into the wall. A terrible pain went through her other cuffed wrist as she dangled from one arm. She kicked her legs in pain and tried to lift herself up to see her cuffed arm. But she only succeeded in faltering her body lower and lower to the ground. With one great heave she flung herself forward and the cuff snapped off the chain on the wall. Kyra was free from her chains, but now she had the cell to worry about. 
First she would check out her fellow cellmates. On her left was Wladyslaw, the man who had saved Pyrrhia once before, but wasn't even allowed to be back home. He was alive, at least, but he had fallen either asleep or unconscious. Either way, he wasn't going anywhere with chains bolting him to the wall. Kyra was lucky one of her cuffs was oddly loose, perhaps a careless mistake made by her kidnappers. 
She turned to her right where Caspar was hanging from the wall. He seemed less lively or active. Kyra heard something from above, from the ceiling. She kept that in the back of her mind and continued on. Caspar was wearing mail armor with white robes covering it. The white cloth appeared to be stain with something dark, but its exact color was impossible to tell with the given light in the cell. He was very still...
Kyra noticed something on the ground. It was the bucket and some sort of tool laying next to it, a wicked looking object that looked like a curved pick. As she got closer she saw more tools, smaller ones that looked like ghastly daggers. Then she looked inside the bucket, which gave off an unsettling metallic smell. There was a still dark liquid inside it.
More noises were coming from above, and they were getting louder and clearer. 
Kyra went over to Caspar and tried to wake him. She grabbed hold of his head and gently shook it, but when she let go the head fell forward again. She pushed his body back against the wall, but it fell forward with lifeless energy.
Kyra took the helmet off. Caspar's head was frozen in a state of agony. His eyes were closed, but his mouth was wide open and his nostrils were flaring. His head flopped down when she let it go with a gasp. She noticed his chest, the source of the dark liquid. The cloth and armor near his heart was torn.
Then the noise was right behind her. The cell door opened. 
Kyra turned around frantically. Outside the cell was a Mask. It had the figure of a normal human being, with black robes covering it and its leather armor. It had sleek black boots, black gloves, and black hood, and a mask that glowed dimly in the candlelight. The mask itself looked as if it had the color of sand. Its eyes were pitch black, lifeless. It opened the cell door wide open and walked inside, its boots making a heavy sound with every step. 
Kyra took the pickax in her hand and swung it at the Mask. It struck its body with strong force, but before she could even notice that it did nothing, she pulled it out and swung at the Mask at its head. The Mask moved its head to the side and with little effort disarmed Kyra and pinned her down on the floor. It tossed her outside the cell where she saw two more Masks looking down at her before everything went black.
=== Chapter 2: Master ===
"Hey, wake up."
The world was a throbbing pain that was not quite hurtful nor relaxed, but an annoying feeling that kept lightly pounding Kyra's head. She felt a nudge on her shoulder, then her side, and then something gently touched her face, causing her to violently wake up in an instant. 
With wild eyes Kyra scanned around, looking for whoever or whatever was in wherever she was. It was not the dungeon, that was for sure. As she looked around she noticed that she was in an entirely different environment than the dark, damp, and death-filled prison she was held in. She didn't know how long she had been unconscious. The sun was shining through a window, but that did not help for she didn't even know if it was out when she was in the prison where the sun did not even exist. 
This room was bright. There were large windows on one side of the room, letting in all the sunlight that the houseplants, that were beside Kyra, needed. There was a red carpet laid out on the ground, acting as a cushion as Kyra sat down on the wooden floor. There were shelves of fine plates and a rack of swords, and there was a beautiful and professional-looking painting of a river on the wall. For a moment, Kyra thought she was in a dream and that she was alone, but she heard a groan and saw someone lying on the floor, trying to get up.
"You surprised me," said the figure. From what Kyra could observe, it was a young male, perhaps not even an adult yet. He wore what looked to be something expensive, and strangely he had a red ribbon tied around his right arm.
He shook his head and stood up, then looked directly at Kyra. "Unpredictable and beautiful," he commented with a large grin on his face. The young man watched Kyra, who felt very uncomfortable being stared at in a such a way as his. She struggled to get up, but then the young man unexpectedly helped her up.
"Who are you?" she asked in an aggressive way, which only made the young man grin even harder. 
"Oh, its not important. But what is important is what will happen to this sleepy city. Everything is going to change, everything is going to be better. I am going to have a house, a garden, children, a wife..." he daydreamed, then he looked at Kyra again with a shy smile.
Kyra frowned at him. Clearly this was a case of a young man trying to get her to fall in love with him. She had read scrolls about people bringing gifts, showing their toughness or brilliance, and doing all sorts of mushy and goofy romantic things to win the girl over. The girl in the story always acted stubborn and unwilling at first, but she always gave in at the end. For some reason, the man in the tale always liked the struggle of making his crush love him back. But this wasn't some story written for a few extra gold coins. This was real life.
Kyra was about to declare that she would never fall in love with this boy, which happened in the scrolls, she remembered, but this young man had already changed the subject. 
"Oh, aren't you excited? The world is going to be a better place now. Our new master will fix everything. He's going to give me that nice little manor that overlooks the waterfall with the snow on the rocks. The one with the berry bushes and the stone walkway."
"New master? The one who put me in the dungeon!" Kyra shouted, loud enough that the plates on the shelves could have shattered. The young boy thought for a moment, stopped smiling, then smiled again.
"It was a misunderstanding, I'm sure. Master would never imprison someone who is innocent," he explained.
"Well, what if I am not innocent?" she argued.
The young man once again stopped smiling, thought for a moment, then smiled again with another not-so well thought out answer.
"Of course you are. You aren't in the dungeon, you're in the Tea Room. See the tea cups and the biscuit trays on the shelves? I think it is almost tea time and I finally have someone to have tea with. See, Master is making everyone happy!" he exclaimed with glee.
This guy...
"I am not happy. I demand that you let me go right now," she ordered calmly, trying to keep her anger from lashing out and ruining any potential opportunity to escape. But it did not work, to her despair.
"Well, I can't let you go because I am not holding you, silly. If I was holding you I would definitely let you go, but I'm not so I can't," he said with a wink and a laugh. "I see you are becoming red. You haven't even taken a sip of hot tea yet and you are practically a tomato," he chuckled childishly.
I have to get out of here. Wladyslaw might be dying and this city is falling under the control of a crazy animus. I need to get to Razyn..., she thought.
No. I need to return home, to Bielska. The King will free Wladyslaw. Razyn is too far away in the desert, but if I can get out of here...
"We have to go. Master is in danger. Please, er..."
"Dominic, my name is Dominic," said the young boy. Though it took longer than Kyra had wanted, what she said finally made an impression on the young man.
"Wait, what! MASTER IS IN DANGER! We have to get to him, now!" he screamed, pulling Kyra by the hand and bolting towards the exit.
"Stop, I can't go in this," she complained.
Dominic turned around. "Of course you can't. Here, take this....and this!" he said, hurriedly handing Kyra a suit of steel armor and a sword with an interesting design. He then resumed his frantic behavior.
"Let's go, let's go! We have to warn everyone!" he shouted.
He flung open the door and ran out into the city. Kyra stepped out and saw that she was being kept inside a wooden house right next to the city entrance. Dominic ran toward the city center, while Kyra rushed to the arch that signified the entrance and the exit.
Two things stopped her in her tracks. One of them was Dominic yelling at her, "Where are you going? Master is this way!"
The other was the arrow that flew and landed only a short distance in front of her, almost hitting her in the leg. She looked up and to the left where the arrow had come from. It was a masked archer, readying for another shot.
=== Chapter 3: Into the Country ===
Kyra wasted no time running for her life in order to get out of the town. She ran under the arch that welcomed travelers to Terchen and she began the descent down the mountain on which the city rested on. Though it was not actually a staircase, there were a lot of rocks that gradually declined down to the world below the mountain peak. There were twists and turns ahead, so Kyra took extra caution to make sure she would not tumble down the whole way.
She did not look back even once. The masked archer must have only shot two or three more arrows, because that was about the number of whooshes and thunks she was able to make out. Besides her loud and rushed breathing and her own two feet, she heard no large army of footsteps following after her after her sudden and surely unexpected escape.
She was sure that she had gotten away scotch-free when she heard a trailing and desperate voice that seemed to get closer and closer to her ears. It had sounded like, but it couldn't have been...
"Wait, stop! Come back, or at least wait for me!" It was Dominic, with his crazy attraction to her and his seemingly unwavering loyalty to his Master. Kyra did not understand both. Why did he care about her so much anyways? If it was her appearance, which was hardly the prettiest in Pyrrhia, wouldn't her attitude and personality send him a message? Dominic was somewhat handsome, and Terchen must have been filled with ladies who he could love instead of her, a foreigner. And why did he like this "Master" anyways? If it was Clauseus, obviously it was, then Dominic was not going to have a bright future. Clauseus took over his home with deadly force and cleaned it out of anyone who could oppose him. Kyra was having a terrible realization that Clauseus was manipulating the minds of the poor and more uneducated people, giving them false hope of a better life, only to tear them away when he was supposed to give them out.
There was only one place she could go now. It was her kingdom and home, Bielska. The thought did not bring as much comfort as she hoped it would. Of course it didn't. Kyra paused for a moment to rest, forgetting all about Terchen and Dominic. 
Kyra was an Aredonian, and she had left her people for the Bielskans. She was a traitor to her home, to her friends, and to her family, but what could she have done if she had disagreed with all three of them? She used to have worn the uniform of a Bielskan infantryman, but it made her feel worse and made her long for Aredonian armor and a helmet, instead of a flat fur cap. What good was her patrolling the southern border with Aredonia when it only made her feel ashamed.
She tried to destroy her first identity; she kept telling herself that the Aredonian way of life was wrong and not for her, but sweet memories always returned, trying to persuade her to come home. 
"Oh, thank goodness, you stopped for me," spurted a familiar voice, out of breath and shaky. "Why...why did you run away!? You said Master was in danger! We have to go back..." Dominic started.
Kyra stormed off in the opposite direction, wanting no part in any conversation with this young man. However, she did take a moment to acknowledge. It was the first time she actually took the time to look at him in detail.
Dominic wore a rich silk tunic, a brown belt, and heavy dark red boots as well as a pair of white gloves. Around his neck was a gold chain and embedded in it was a bright red ruby that rested on his rising and lowering chest. He had dark black hair and the beginnings of a beard, and his eyes were green like the evergreen trees in the forests nearby. His face was handsome, Kyra had to admit, but his behavior was off by a ton.
"You know, you shouldn't have run off like that. My master's men don't like that. You should have worn your red ribbon and none of this would have happened. I can't believe you were so reckless and foolish back there..."
"Quit it! What is wrong with you! Obviously something! I was thrown in prison because of your master and he killed my friend! I hate your master and I only tricked you into believing that he was in danger because you are so gullible and wretched and desperate! AND I AM NOT IN LOVE WITH YOU! Go home and leave me be!" she yelled. 
Dominic took a step back, hurt, and placed one hand on his heart as if in pain. His face looked like it was going to rain a whole downfall of tears. Kyra turned to walk away and she managed to take a few steps forward before she heard Dominic blubber out some more words.
"B-but, Master is good...he's going to make everyone happy, he's going to take care of us. He said the world is evil, and the rich and royal are only hurting us. He said that we don't have to work for our kings and queens. We can be free and do what we want. Don't you want the same?" he asked. Kyra paused for a moment, considering.
Free? No working for a king?
"Master is going to liberate us all. He's going to free the peasants and make us all equal. There will be no rich and no poor. No more kingdoms, no more wars, no more death. Only happiness. He said the dragons won't kill us anymore, we will all be friends! You can be a part of that, too."
Kyra spoke out without thinking, saying something that felt like unconscious instinct. "No, that sounds terrible. Everything is alright the way it is. The world is not perfect, but it is okay," she argued.
Dominic looked back over his shoulder to glance at Terchen, as if watching to see if anyone was there.
"It is so easy for you to say that, Kyra. Try asking the poor peasants working in the fields and you will be surprised to hear their response. The peasants and the poor work and work and work for their overlords, their nobles living safely away in the castles. The same lords who send them to their deaths during war, war that the peasants have no reason to be in."
Kyra continued to walk away and down the hill, while Dominic followed close behind. His argument rattled inside her skull as if a whole new world had just collapsed onto her head. She had never thought about that before, about not having to work for a ruler if she didn't want to. She began to question everything she knew, about why people had to follow a ruler or why the world had to be divided into nations. 
However, as she thought deeper, she found arguments against the ones Dominic had stated. 
"Your master is a conniving viper, Dominic," Kyra warned. "Honestly, do you expect me to believe all that he is saying? Do you know what he would have to do in order to create a world free of rulers and kingdoms? He would have to alter this entire continent, change life as we know it. He would have to destroy a lot, and take the lives of many."
They continued to walk down the hill, with the sun high in the sky, shining down on the entire mountain range. There was not a cloud in the sky, a sky bluer than Kyra had ever seen before. 
"But..." Dominic started, but Kyra interrupted him, and he let her without any resistance. 
"If this world was a world where everyone could do what they wanted, then it would collapse before it would even begin. Hey, I know this is not a fair world. Is it fair that the peasants have to work for someone else? No. Is it fair that there are rich people and poor people and there is nothing we can do about it? No. But that is our world, and it will always be that way," she said.
Dominic looked down at his feet, not knowing what to say. "But, Master will fix everything...."
Kyra turned back to look at him. She was not mad or angry at him, rather, she wanted to be realistic with him and help him understand. 
"Your Master isn't going to fix anything, I'm sorry. Listen, Dominic, this world needs strong leaders to rule over large numbers of people who can't stand on their own. And even over the ones that can. People need to be united under some banner, but under their own individual banners or under only one is impossible, or harmful," she stated calmly. 
They had finally walked out of sight of Terchen.
"Your Master is only..." Kyra began, but someone took a hold of her shoulders and turned her around before she could even take a step further. "Let go of me, Dominic, I'm warning y-"
"Listen, Kyra. Take me away from here, take me away to your kingdom, I beg you," Dominic said hurriedly. 
"Wha, what?" Kyra stammered. "But what about your Master?"
"Take me to your kingdom, Kyra! Promise me you will take me away from here and warn your king!" Dominic whispered intensively. 
Kyra did not know who this Dominic was anymore.
"He killed them all, Kyra. Mother, Father, my brother and sister, even my cousins. Master killed them all, Kyra, every last one of them because they thought like you did, like I do. Terchen is just the beginning, all of Pyrrhia is next. I had to lie to survive, I had to lie and act like a fool to you. I was a rich merchant, I helped people and I was so successful, but I had to give it all up in an instant because of him," he said firmly. 
He let go of Kyra, but she could still feel his firm hands on her shoulders. 
"But people believe him, Kyra. People believe what he says. Heck, it wasn't even he who said those things, just his goons. It's not fair that there has to be the rich and the poor. But never trust him, Kyra. He wants everything for himself, he's manipulating everyone to follow him, to give up who they are. So I ask you once again, will you take me to your kingdom?"
"Y-yes, of course I will," Kyra replied in a hurry, but her eyes and ears couldn't believe what they were seeing and hearing.
- - -
The two spent three days and nights walking down the hill and finally traveling on wide open land. They did not say much at all to each other, in fact Kyra kept her distance from Dominic as best she could. To her surprise, he respected that. 
It had appeared to her that Dominic was playing along the entire time. In Terchen, he had to pretend to follow Master and be loyal to him, or else he would end up like the rest of his family, dead. He was not in love with her, nor did he love Master, but he was really a desperate and sad man who lost everything without even having a chance to fight for it. And many more would face the same situation if no one did anything. Master was like a bully, but worse, and people could still stand up to him.
It hadn't occurred to her that they were crossing into new territory. Everything looked strangely familiar, but yet she didn't know where she was or how to get to Bielska. Dominic followed her nervously, wondering how he had gotten into such a mess.
It definitely hadn't occurred to her that she was on the border of three human nations. She didn't have time to hide in the bushes before four groups of people gathered near a field where there was soft grass and a few rocks and boulders scattered here and there. It was nighttime, but Kyra could see the war parties clearly. Her heart rose to her throat when she finally saw that they were planning to kill each other under the moonlight.
On the field to the east there was a group of Aredonians, a wall of spears and shields and armor led by a woman with a red horsehair crest on top of her helmet. It was Kyra's people, but she was not a part of them anymore. To the left of Dominic and Kyra was a party of Zelengorodians. There was a line of musketmen, warriors in red yielding glaives, and horsemen in shining armor, all led by a boyar with a tall pointy helmet and who was armed with a bow. Finally, to the north there were the Bielskans, a group of musketmen and spearmen in the same uniform Kyra had worn, and a line of winged knights, their wings fluttering in the wind and their lances pointing up in the air almost as high as the trees were tall.
On Kyra's right, however, she saw some faint glowing dots. For the second time this week she had become terrified. It was a force of masked horsemen, archers, and sword-men, organized in a neat formation, lifeless and unmerciful. 
=== Chapter 4: Home ===
Kyra and Dominic's eyes were on the masked warriors, but the other three small armies had their eyes on each other. Kyra faintly heard the sound of orders being given out and the shifting and shuffling of people into lines, walls, and even a square formation. Slowly, they each emerged onto the clear, open, and moonlit field of grass.
The Bielskans and the Zelengorodians both lined up soldiers for a musket volley and they both kept their footmen back to protect them, while they each prepared their cavalry to charge. The Aredonians stayed among the trees in a shield of spears, fortifying to see who would strike first.
None of them paid any attention to the two strangers or the masked army, that was until they heard and saw something coming down from Terchen's hill. It was a whole army of Masks, not just the small patrol that had gathered on the field already. Every Mask looked the same, except for one individual.
At the head of the force of perhaps thirty Masks was a rider, who had a green glow to his black armor. Instead of an illuminating mask like the rest of them, its mask was pitch black except for the eyes, which also glowed green. Its horse was a black stallion with the same green colored eyes, and the sword the Mask wielded had a eerie green tint to it. 
One day when Kyra was on patrol she saw a patch of blue bio-luminescent mushrooms. The brightness and the glow of those mushrooms seemed to match the intensity and the unsettling feeling of the green stripes that lined the armor of this rider and the glow of the two eyes of its mask. It was not the eerie glow or light that the Mask produced that made Kyra shudder, nor the frightening image of it charging down the hill; it was the awful feeling that it gave off, a feeling of deadly force and lifeless emotion. But it also felt different; it gave Kyra a cold feeling as it grew closer. The other armies must have also felt it, for they all moved backwards and away from the hill.
The Mask army combined with the patrol, and in total the Masks outnumbered all of the other armies combined. Kyra thought that if a dragon were to fly overhead, it would see one giant cluster of glowing lights and the glint of metal shining off the moon. 
"He looks like the northern lights..." remarked Dominic in awe. Kyra didn't want to look, but her eyes made their way into staring into the glowing eyes of the Mask. The luminescent green warrior silently moved its troops around and began to approach the other armies.
The other armies began to back off as the Masks drew nearer in their directions. Kyra and Dominic made a break for it because a number of Masks were heading towards them as well. Kyra ran across the field with Dominic following behind her, but not with the same agility or speed . She stormed her way towards the Bielskan army, with the welcomed sight of her own soldiers.
Though Kyra didn't take the time to notice, it appeared that some soldiers from the Aredonian patrol tried to actually catch her and Dominic, but the Masks, for what reason she did not know, forced the patrol back to their wall, and they all backed off as well. The Masks didn't want anyone getting a hand on Kyra or Dominic, but it didn't make sense as they too didn't attempt to take them prisoners as well. They just made sure that the two made their way to the Bielskans, who had started to fall back, except for the few of them who were waiting for Kyra and Dominic.
They were greeted by a nobleman, wearing a fur cap and steel cuirass. His horse had a feather plume on its head and its saddle was embroidered with red and gold lacing. With him was a musketeer, pointing her weapon at them just in case, and three winged knights with their lances pointed out.
"My lord, my lord, it is so good to see you!" greeted Kyra in a welcoming tone. The nobleman was eyeing her suspiciously and with a growing caution. 
"Who are you?" asked the nobleman in a strong and loud voice, one that did not care if he was heard by the other armies. As she got closer, Kyra could make out a thick mustache on his pink face, and small beady eyes and thick cheekbones. 
"I am Kyra, a soldier in the army, my lord."
The nobleman raised his eyebrows and titled his head, as if questioning whether she was telling the truth while also giving a face that seemed to say, you-do-not-look-like-one-of-us. 
"Kyra, sir. The 'Aredonian'." 
The nobleman did not seem convinced, but he did not want to talk right out in the open. He saw the other armies go back home, while the Mask army stood guarding the foot of the hill. Kyra was not going back to Terchen, even if she planned to. 
The nobleman and his small army led Kyra and Dominic to his home, a small but clean wooden cabin out in the middle of the forest with wooden gates and people running about, even in the middle of the night. There were small bonfires and people cooking, as if there was a gathering or party going on. All of the soldiers got off in the small yard in front of the house and were led by servants to rooms for the night. 
The nobleman led Kyra and Dominic inside, where the interior looked far larger than from the outside. There were tables of soldiers eating meat and crops and drinking water and juice. Some had most of their armor on, others with only some, while the rest only wore their regular clothing or uniforms. There was a fireplace providing warmth and light, and above it was a pair of antlers from a deer. There were rugs with beautiful designs, patterns, and images of animals and landscapes hung on the walls, for decoration and for more warmth. 
The nobleman had the two sit down away from the tables of soldiers, on some cushions under a carving of his coat of arms, a swan. 
"What were you talking about back there? I saw you coming down from that hill along with those...those...I don't know what they are. You better have a good reason for being here, for I think you are a foreigner," said the nobleman. He had taken off his hat, revealing a set of extremely fluffy black hair. 
"My name is Kyra, and yes, I am a foreigner and no I am not. I was born in Aredonia, but I have served this country faithfully ever since the war. I am Bielskan by spirit, if not by blood. This here is Dominic, from Terchen, a successful person until the Masks came," replied Kyra.
"Eh? Masks?" questioned the nobleman. 
"Those warriors with the glowing masks. They took over Terchen and I fear they will continue on with the rest of Pyrrhia. I never saw the green one before, though, not until tonight."
The nobleman shifted himself in his seat uncomfortably. Dominic remained silent, eyeing both Kyra and the nobleman for their responses and not being able to figure out when to step in. 
The nobleman laid back in his seat and twirled his mustache with his fingers thoughtfully. "I have heard of a foreigner like you join the infantry, but tell me, if I were to believe you, why were you at Terchen and not at your patrol?"
"It is all because of the Masks, sir, and we need to stop them before it is too late."
The nobleman yawned, and Kyra couldn't tell if it was from sleepiness, boredom, or both, but it made her mad. 
"How do we know they will? I mean, they haven't done anything yet, well, at least on our soil. What concern is it of ours?"
Kyra clenched her fists and stood up. "Because I lost one friend already and we are going to lose another if we don't do anything soon! They killed Caspar, our Marshal, and they have Grand Hetman Wladyslaw Nowak locked away! AND THEY LOCKED ME UP TOO! Do you want to lose another hero, another patriot, another brother."
"Nonsense! Nowak was killed! Lies, rumors, all dirty, dirty lies," the nobleman hissed.
Kyra was about to clobber the nobleman in his pink face when she heard a voice speak to her from behind her back.
"Grand Hetman Nowak? Alive?" asked the voice.
Kyra turned around and saw a winged knight looking straight at her. He was wearing his full outfit of plate armor, wings, an animal pelt, and a sabre in its scabbard resting on his leg. Next to him was another knight, a female who looked much like him in both attire and physical appearance, and behind them the rest of the army had their heads turned to stare at Kyra.
"Yes, alive. He didn't die on Jade, nor did Clauseus," Kyra explained.
The room gasped. They all looked to look at each other with disbelief and then back to Kyra.
"It can't be, but it's true? Grand Hetman Kiel will not like this news," muttered the male knight.
"Take me to our king, sir. We have to explain everything to him," Kyra demanded to the knight.
Another winged knight approached Kyra, who pushed her way to the front and she almost stood face-to-face with the Aredonian. 
"We have no king, soldier. It is every nobleman and woman for themselves, like it should be. A nation of the nobles, not of a king. But perhaps if you need to talk to someone, then talk to Bogdan Kiel, our Grand Hetman. He won't like the news of Wladyslaw being alive, nor Clauseus. He's getting ready for war with our neighbors, but maybe you can persuade him to find another target..."
=== Chapter 5: Kiel ===
It had been three days and still there was no sign of Grand Hetman Kiel as Kyra and Dominic waited at his army camp in the forested region of Bielska. After staying with the nobleman in his wooden cabin, the soldiers there offered to escort the two to Kiel since that was where they were headed. Apparently Kiel wanted to gather his army and have it in one location, but the reason why was still not clear. 
Upon arrival at the camp, Kyra was surprised to see the vast arsenal and size of Kiel's personal military force. One could say it was an entire army, and one would be right. The Grand Hetman commanded all of the armies of the Kingdom, so it would fit him or her to be well-protected and have some troops under their direct command. But Kyra didn't even think Wladyslaw had as many soldiers as Kiel had now. 
There were many green tents scattered around among the trees. The green would help the camp blend in, but the activity in the camp would make it stand out anyways. Besides the tents, there were cooking pots, campfires, weapon racks, containers full of cannonballs and there were people everywhere. There was the sound of men, women, horses, the crackling of fire, the thundering of boots, the sound of metal and the sound of hammers hitting that metal. The camp was so alive and so busy. 
Kyra saw soldiers walking around from one place to the other, carrying swords on their belts, spears in their hands, or even muskets on their shoulders. Some of them wore the uniform Kyra had worn, a blue coat and a flat fur cap. Others were more adapted to battle, notably the ones with a steel cuirass over their body and a morion helmet on their heads, which had a flat brim and a crest.
Among them were cooks, doctors, journalists, as well as a few noblemen and noblewomen. Kyra even saw a few of the winged knights riding around through the forest or walking with their wings on their backs, making them look larger. They looked like angels, noble angels of death. Kyra realized that there were more and more of them as she went deeper into the camp. There were a lot of them.
Kya and Dominic were led to a larger tent that was far taller and had more room inside. Inside this tent there was a large wooden table set up on the dirt ground and laid out on top of it was a large map of Pyrrhia, with various colored arrows and circles and all sorts of markings all over the continent. There was a heavily concentrated area of markings not too far from the delta, which must have represented the location of this camp. There were red arrows pointing to the north and to the west, but Kyra wasn't sure what they meant. There were some yellow circles and each of them was labeled "Queen." Kyra recognized one of them, a circle marked on the large lake in her home of Aredonia. It was where the mud dragon queen lived, so perhaps the circles were all dragon palaces.
Kyra and Dominic stayed in that tent all day, and then the next, and then the next, but there was still no sign of who they were looking for. They were told that Kiel was readying all of his troops and getting the "finishing touches" of his plan ready. Kyra hoped it did not involve the arrows that were on the map. 
During their stay they met some of the noblemen and noblewomen who were excited about some sort of upcoming war. Not all of them were, however, but they were not as powerful as the ones who supported it. One of the noblewomen spoke out against the war freely, while another one respected Kiel but did not want to take part in another violent conflict.
Most of the people there were sure that there would be nothing. They felt that Kiel was exaggerating when he said that he would go to war with Zelengorod or Kosburg on grounds of superiority and honor. Kiel was a fiery man, possibly even reckless, but he was very traditional and patriotic, and he pleased the nobility well. Kyra mentioned Wladyslaw and all of them were surprised to hear that he was alive, and they were even more shocked when they heard that he was in prison in Terchen. They felt bad about the death of Marshal Caspar, but apparently none of them were really close to him, which silently stung Kyra. 
They explained that Wladyslaw might have saved Pyrrhia and brought peace to the world, but if he was alive then he would not be fit for becoming king. They said that Wladyslaw and the dead King Jan acted in violation to their laws and rights. In Bielska, a noble was equal to all of the other nobles. They were all like brothers and sisters. They were all like their own kings or queens. But the nobles felt that Jan had used too much power, and as a result he had weakened the power of the nobility. The king was a noble, and he was not better or worse than anyone else, but Jan acted like he was. Wladyslaw also acted like he was the leader of the other nobles, but the nobles felt like they were their own leaders. 
The nobles said that they felt that Jan was not a bad ruler, nor was Wladyslaw a bad Grand Hetman, but together they seemed to have overstepped their boundaries far too much. They acted like Bielska was their own kingdom to control to pursue their own interests, which was wrong. Grand Hetman Kiel and the dead king's son were the two candidates for the throne, but Kiel was the clear winner already. The election was postponed after Kiel mentioned the possibility of war, so Kiel was still the most powerful person in Bielska and the head of the military. Kiel was more of the ideal noble: he was equal, he was honorable, patriotic, ambitious, and the fire in his spirit brought about a refreshing feeling throughout the land. 
Kyra felt an urge of loathing for Kiel. She liked Wladyslaw more and thought he was the best candidate for king. When she mentioned her opinion the nobles and the soldiers shrugged, as if it could be true but might also not be. Wladyslaw was popular around Pyrrhia, but in his own land he was almost despised.
Kyra had heard about Kiel, and the stories about him made her nervous. Kiel was formerly a captain who wanted to be the hetman, but Jan and Wladyslaw rejected him, angering him greatly and hurting his pride. Kiel believed in honor, but in Kyra's opinion it was twisted. He loved to duel and always won with his opponent dead at his feet. His armies obliterated the enemy during the war, and he himself perfected something Wladyslaw thought he had done before: master using the winged knights. It was Nowak who was proud of those warriors, but Kiel revered them more. Kiel would not be afraid to fight dragons, in fact he had killed at least two in the last year alone. And he was very hostile to the "enemies" of his country, namely Zelengorod and Kosburg. He wanted to conquer the mountains and force Kosburg back into the Union. Kiel was a dangerous man, one who was unpredictable and had the fire of a dragon.
On the fourth morning, when world was wet with dew, Kyra and Dominic woke up to a thundering noise and the trembling of the ground. When they had emerged from the tent they saw crowds of people gathering to look at an open field. She and Dominic made their way to the front of the cheering crowd and they saw the missing part of the army. It was Kiel and his men, more organized than Wladyslaw had ever been. Kyra knew that Kiel was in the front, and she had never even seen him before in her life.
It was hard to see him in detail, but it was not long before he rode right into the crowd, who parted away for him in a joyous fashion. Kiel rode on a brown horse with a black mane and he sat on a red saddle embroidered with gold fabric in a neat swirling pattern. He wore the same steel armor as his winged knights, but Kyra had never seen the style he wore very often. First off, he had no pair of wings on his back but instead he wore a white cape that fluttered in the wind. His helmet was different as well. It was the usual steel lobster-tail pot helmet with the removable nose-guard up, but he had two elaborate wing-like crests of pierced metal on either side of the helmet. They reminded Kyra of the webbing between a sea dragon's talons, but in a much more beautiful design. 
Kiel continued to stay on his horse as the rest of his army entered the camp. All of the attention was on Kiel, who energetically and enthusiastically performed tricks on his horse such as trotting at different speeds and moving it around in all directions. Kiel was smiling under his helmet, which he soon took off.
Kyra looked at Kiel's face. He had short brown hair and a thin brown mustache as well. His eyes were very fiery but also excited. He looked at all of his soldiers as if taking a mental note on each and everyone one of them.
Kiel reached for the bag that was attached to his saddle, a very large bag with something inside of it. It appeared that this was what he was excited about, to show his camp what the contents were. He pulled two things out of it, and one of them he tossed onto the ground and let it roll. It rolled to Kyra's feet and she looked at it in shock.
It was the severed head of a Mask, its mask dim and its eyes even more lifeless than ever before.
She was too shocked to react, but Dominic nudged her on the shoulder and she looked up. Kiel was holding a second object in his hands, one that tripled Kyra's fears about this man. 
In his hand was an orange scale with blood dripping down from it that was just beginning to dry, a scale from a mountain dragon. He held it up high in his hand for all to see. 
Kyra thought this was all so terrible, but nothing made her think Kiel was a madman more than his hysterical laughter and his apparent joy of showing off his "prize."
=== Chapter 6: Scales ===
After his display of the scale and the head, Kiel gathered up both and with some of his soldiers he made his way into the big tent with the large map inside of it on the wooden table. Kyra and Dominic followed behind, but neither could predict what could happen next with this crazy man.
Kiel placed the head and the scale on the table after adjusting the map so that it wouldn't be blemished or stained. He placed both of his hands on the table and stared hard at the piece of paper, with his mind full of thoughts and decisions to make. His men gathered around him, while Kyra made her way into the green tent. However, a soldier stopped her.
"What are you doing here?" he asked, a soldier who had been out of the camp with Kiel for the few days he was gone. 
"I have been waiting for days at this camp to talk with Grand Hetman Kiel. It is important, very urgent. Let me through, please," she requested, trying to make her way past the guard. The soldier, however, grabbed Kyra's shoulder with one firm hand. He turned her around so that they were face-to-face.
"The Hetman is very busy right now, so if you don't mind..." he added hastily, pushing her out. 
Before he could get Kyra entirely out of the tent, Kiel unexpectedly placed one hand on the guard's shoulder, gave him a stern look, and allowed Kyra to enter and speak with him. The soldier looked surprised and quickly got out of Kyra's way. She gave the guard a smug and haughty look. 
Kiel took a seat in a cushioned armchair that was not there the last time Kyra had slept in this tent. It must have been put out for Kiel upon his return. Kiel sat comfortably in the chair, looking up at Kyra with this grin that made her uncomfortable. It looked like a "if-you-make-one-wrong-move-you-know-I-can-kill-you" sort of smile. Kyra had no doubt that he could, judging from the head and the scale and the countless stories about him. Kiel noticed her staring at the orange scale with a disturbed feeling.
"That was a great battle, a truly grand one indeed. That mountain dragon put up a good fight, but it was no match at all, not with the best dragon-slayer in all of Pyrrhia." For a moment, Kyra thought that Kiel had spoken, but it took her a moment to realize that it was not the Grand Hetman praising himself, it was the guard from before. 
Maybe he's trying desperately to stay on Kiel's good side, even if it's this twisted side that's good.
"There is really no one quite like him. The Hetman is actually working on a project that I think you might find interesting, Aredonian friend. It is remarkable, I must say, a genius use of the mind and of the world around us," the guard went on with admiration. 
Dominic sheepishly poked his head into the tent after overhearing the conversation. "What sort of project?" he asked nervously.
The guard looked very excited now. He was holding his hands together and they were shaking like an earthquake. His eyes were beaming and he was grinning with a mouth full of dull yellowing teeth. The man's appearance reminded Kyra of a chef she met once, with the same chubby face, the thin black pencil moustache, and the slight double chin. 
"Kiel is almost done collecting enough parts to finish making his dragon-scale armor! It will be something that only the ancients have done before. Before the Fall of Pyrrhia there were great suits of armor made out of dragon scales and bones and hide. Legendary warriors, dragon-slayers like Kiel," he explained cheerfully.
Kyra looked at Kiel with disbelief. Armor made out of....dragon scales and....dragon bones? Kiel...wh...what is going on in your head...
"Arrows and sword cuts cannot penetrate dragon scales, and it can stop a bullet from ever reaching the body. Take those scales and make them into a wearable armor, and suddenly you will be invincible on the battlefield!" exclaimed the guard in a loud uproar.
Kyra shook her head as if she was told that the world was going to end. The thought of using dragons in such a way made her sick to her stomach. She always thought of dragons as different from the other creatures in Pyrrhia, not like bears or wolves where you can just take their pelts and make them into a coat or a rug. Dragons were different, and taking their scales sounded so wrong to her.
She looked at Kiel, who had closed his eyes, but he kept a smug smile on his face. Kyra thought he was having pleasant memories of the battle replaying in his mind. She looked at the scale once again. Then a thought came to her mind.
"If you killed the dragon, why is there only one scale? Wouldn't you have been able to get more in order to finish the suit right now?" she asked.
Kiel's eyes opened immediately and his smile vanished. The guard also quieted down, looking at Kiel from behind Kyra's back.
"Did you even kill the dragon, or any at all?" she said. Uh-oh, maybe I shouldn't have asked that.
Kiel looked at Kyra with what were once perhaps the teary eyes of a broken man, but his brows were furrowed and he had the mad eyes of a man whose pride and honor were broken into pieces. Kiel stood up and Kyra instinctively moved out of the way and out of the tent as if expecting Kiel was going to try to kill her for that question she asked.
She was out of the tent with an even more shaken Dominic waiting for her, but after waiting a moment...nothing happened. She paused, then hesitated some more, then finally she was brave enough to poke her head back inside the tent.
Kiel and the guard were still inside the tent, but they were busy with clearing the table, taking off the map, the scale, and the head which Kyra had forgotten all about. On the floor there was a large chest, a chest that was as long as a full-grown person was tall. Kiel knelt down to unlock the chest, and with help from the guard the two pulled out the contents. 
Kyra was already used to the feeling of uncertainty and shock, so she wasn't that nervous when the two lifted out a dragon's skull from the chest and placed it on the table. Dominic was freaking out, on the other hand.
"You say that I never killed a dragon, Aredonian?" Kiel said. His voice had the accent of the country they were in, but the sound of mocking questioning in his medium-toned voice was clear as the white skull resting under the tent.
Kyra looked at Kiel. She expected him to act obnoxiously childish with pride and with stupid look-at-me faces, but he was as serious as she was. 
"Wladyslaw would never have done such things as you. He is a better man and a better leader than you will ever be!" she yelled at Kiel. She didn't care if he might kill her, she didn't care that many other people would have heard her insult their leader, she just couldn't have kept it in any longer.
She looked at Kiel, who didn't seem to have any emotional reaction. He simply asked one question.
"Is? Where is Wladyslaw?" 
Kyra stopped looking furious and realized that Kiel must not have known that Wladyslaw was alive, at least since she left Terchen.
Kyra hesitated, but the whole point of her talking to Kiel in the first place was to tell him that Wladyslaw had been captured and he needed help. But she also knew of the rivalry between them, well, the one only Kiel personally cared about. Wladyslaw didn't have a clue about what was going on with this new Grand Hetman.
She explained to Kiel the entire situation. Once again her predictions were off by a staggering rate. She thought that Kiel would be overjoyed, relieved, and laughing at the demise of his hated rival, but instead he had a very serious appearance and feeling to him. 
"Is it true that he is alive and that he is being held by those...those Masks?" Kiel asked.
Kyra nodded. 
Kiel looked torn, to everyone's surprise. He paced around for a brief moment, then picked up his helmet from the armchair and turned to Kyra, the guard, and even Dominic.
"Among our people, every noble is like a brother or a sister, and whether we like them or not we work together to bring the best for our people and for ourselves. Forget Zelengorod, forget Kosburg, our target is Terchen and the horrid Masks," decreed Kiel.
Kyra looked up at Kiel in a new light with hopeful eyes.
"I can't wait to kill another one of those Masks, that one wasn't satisfying enough," said Kiel with relish, extending one hand in the severed head's direction. "This is going to be an exciting fight for me and my soldiers. And I can't wait for Wladyslaw to see me rescuing him," Kiel concluded, walking out of the tent, chuckling. 
Dominic and the guard looked at each other, but Kyra stared at the dragon's skull.
Was this the right thing to do? 
=== Chapter 7: Bright Sun ===
It was about noon when Kiel and a contingent of his army reached the battlefield outside of Terchen where Kyra had witnessed four different armies meet but not fight. It was daylight, but it was an unusually chilly day with wind and a lot of sun. Any dragon in the skies would see a large force of tiny scavengers marching their way towards a den.
Kiel had brought three banners of winged knights, four groups of infantry (musketeers and spear-men), some light cavalry, as well as two cannons. It was only a third of the soldiers from the camp, about one hundred and thirty soldiers in total. Kyra thought that Kiel was going to order a direct assault on Terchen with his men, but he stopped short of the hill.
Kiel ordered his troops into formations. Each winged hussar banner was lined up into two rows of nine each, the musketeers lined up into spaced out rows with spear-men at their side, and the artillery was positions way in the back. The light cavalry would be ready at a moment's notice. Coming down the hill was an army of Masks, larger than the patrol a few nights before and possibly more than all of the Masks that took part in the take over of the city. 
Kyra really felt that the world was coming to an end. All the times she felt terror could not match the feeling she was having now. Cold sweat poured down her brow and her teeth were chattering, but not from the cold, not from the Masks. There was no animus. There was THE ANIMUS!
It cannot be Clauseus! It's....it's him, oh three moons....
The Masks were lined up in battle formation on their black horses with glowing yellow eyes. They were all horsemen and though there were less of them then Kiel's army, Kyra had a feeling of dread looming over her. There was a figure with the same exact mask that Razyn, the cultist leader animus, had shown her. Razyn was out in the desert with Aleksander, looking for the secrets of the mask. But here was the Mask, and who should be Clauseus wearing it underneath. 
It made little difference to her if he wore the Mask or didn't. Clauseus was a hundred times worse than Kiel. Clauseus didn't care about anyone but himself. He didn't care about genocide, extermination, or using magic. She wondered if he cared about losing his soul, then wondered whether he even had one to worry about anymore.
It was clear as day that whoever this was was wearing the Mask of Simeon. Whoever wore it commanded the army of Masks. Kyra wasn't even sure what the Masks were, but they were deadly and showed no mercy. 
If Kyra had a cup of water, she would have spat it out of her mouth that very next moment. Clauseus was charging at them!
 On his black stallion, the man in the grey mask rode his horse straight at Kiel's army. No one knew who this person was except for Kyra and Dominic. The entire Bielskan army could have thought that this was a crazy deranged soldier instead of the enemy in their nightmares. Perhaps it was better this way, to not know and not to be worried.
Kyra felt that there was only one reason why someone would do something this bold and seemingly stupid. Clauseus was doing this because he had confidence. He is sure of himself. I can just imagine the soldiers laughing at such a scene and then be wiped out in an instant. We are going to die.
If she had yet another glass of water, it would have fallen to the ground and shattered into tiny, tiny pieces.
Kiel was charging right at Clauseus! Alone! 
No one moved, because this was Kiel's fight. This was another one of his personal one-on-one duels he so loved. Kiel is stupid, and he will die a stupid man doing a stupid thing, Kyra thought.
Kiel had his sabre drawn and he had it drawn back in his hand while his other one was holding the reins of his brown horse. His armor shined off of the sun, his helmet looking like it had two horns, but were really crests, and his white cape was fluttering behind him in the wind. He looked like the cocky character Kyra had read about who tried to play the hero but fails pathetically and ends up dead.
Kyra could see Clauseus pull out a dark black sword from his belt and hold it up over his head, swinging it around in the air. Kiel did the same with his sabre, and Kyra tensed as they were only a short distance away from each other. No one did anything. It was between Clauseus and Kiel. The two armies merely watched. 
Kiel lowered his sabre and swung it sideways at Clauseus. He missed, but he quickly turned his horse around to confront the animus. Clauseus did the same and the two began to hack their weapons away at each other. Even from far away you could hear the sound of metal hitting metal in a chilling way. 
Clauseus and Kiel exchanged sword blows, taking turns defending and attacking. Clauseus aimed for Kiel's body, such as his neck or hands, but Kiel was slashing his way at Clauseus' sword. Like with Wladyslaw, Kiel first tried to push his enemy's weapon out of the way for an open attack.
Kiel did far more than that. Clauseus must not have been a good swordsman and his confident must have blinded him for Kiel soon found himself with an open opportunity. And then, in an instant, Kiel decapitated Clauseus!
Clauseus' head came clean off of his body, which bounced up and down lifelessly on his horse as it rode on. Kyra could tell that Kiel was not shocked at all, for he had no clue of who he had just killed. 
This cannot have happened. How did Clauseus die so easily?
Kiel dismounted for a second and picked up the severed head. He then held it tightly in his arms and rode back to his army. In the few seconds of his return, Kyra saw that the Masks did not seem to have been affected at all. 
Kiel was cheering and shouting out sayings of joy and victory as he held the head up for all to see. He rode up and down his lines of troops, displaying the head of the dead enemy leader. His army raised their weapons up to the sky to cheer with Clauseus in his victory, but then something happened that Kyra wished she didn't think would.
The head in Kiel's hand had vanished into a plume of smoke and powder. Kiel watched in confusion as all of a sudden his prize was gone. 
It was all too easy. It was all too good to be true.
Kiel did not have much time to react before a group of warriors from his army came riding down from behind the hill. Kiel waited for them to greet him, still looking wondrously at his empty hand. Kyra had no idea that there was more to the plan of attack .
"My hetman, we have run into some trouble!" the leading soldier yelled out right before halting in front of his leader.
Kiel looked up, which was the signal for the soldier to continue on.
"Sir, we have run into a problem. There are dragons in the area that are preventing us from entering the city. I believe they are hunting, sir, a...a large brown one and a few other ones in different colors. Sir...they killed Ania..."
Kiel's horse took a step back as if the news really made an impression on the Hetman. 
The soldier looked at Kyra and saw that she was confused on who this Ania person was. He explained everything.
"Ania was our leader, Aredonian. She was the noblewoman who was part of our Grand Hetman's plan. He was supposed to distract the main army while Ania and the rest of us marched into Terchen with less of a fight. But...one of the dragons killed her," he said mournfully, showing everyone a tattered fur cap.
"THEY ARE GOING TO DIE FOR THIS!!!" Kiel screamed!
=== Chapter 8: Wings of Fire ===
Kiel and Kyra rode together to the spot at where the dragons were. Kiel brought with him a banner of winged hussars to help reinforce the camped-in soldiers of the late Ania. They were all terribly shaken at their arrival, but Kiel's presence made them feel a bit better and more confident. Kyra noticed something good about Kiel: he was always willing to face the same things his soldiers faced. He never just sent them off to their deaths and sat back and watched.
Kyra realized just how close the city of Terchen was to the spot of Wladyslaw's battle with Clauseus. Jade Mountain was nearby, towering over all of the peaks, looking like a viper ready to strike the sky. There was going to be a memorial for Wladyslaw on top of the mountain, but ever since the dragons moved into the peak it was impossible to create. It must also have been the source of the dragons who killed Ania.
Kiel waited and waited, continuously giving inspiring words to his warriors and being all friendly and real to them. But the moment they heard the flapping of wings and the sound of dragon voices, they all rushed into battle positions. Kyra didn't know if this was going to be for revenge or to clear the way into Terchen, but it made her feel relieved that it wasn't just to quench the thirst for blood.
Overhead, Kiel finally saw the thorn in his side, or rather, the many gigantic, monstrous thorns. There was a brown mud dragon who was leading the way, larger than the rest. It was no doubt looking for more prey, along with what appeared to be seven other dragons of many different colors. There was a red one, a white one, a blue one, a green one, a black one, a yellow one, and a smaller brown one, some of them following above or boldly looking for prey on their own. 
But Kiel had his eyes on the largest of them all, the brown dragon with the flat head and large muscles. It also had a scar on one of its legs, but Kyra doubted that any human caused that on such a mighty-looking dragon. It had said something to the other dragons and one of them landed on the ground in front of the hidden army. It was a green dragon that Kyra didn't know what tribe it was from. It also had streaks of red changing on it's scales and it looked displeased. It looked at the plants, and lighter colors appeared onto its scales.
Kyra watched the dragon peacefully change colors when she heard a trumpet call. She heard the voices of men and women mounting horses, unsheathing swords and sabres, and Kiel yelling out orders. Kyra looked to the side and saw a line of winged knights readying for a charge.
It always made her feel excited when those winged warriors fought. They hardly ever lost a battle and when they won their losses were light. What made her feel even more admirable to them was the fact that they were all nobles as well. They were usually the sons and daughters of the nobility, as only they could afford the armor and weapons.
They were lined up in one long row, not the traditional two or three shorter ones. This was not a traditional battle, so regular tactics would not work. Kyra trusted that everything would be alright, but a dragon was even more unpredictable than Kiel. But this one appeared to be the kind of dragon from the land of the Reens, the rainforest. It must not have had any fire or frost-breath, so the soldiers had that going for them.
There were different tones of trumpet calls, and the one that was played sounded very cheerful and high-spirited. Kiel surprisingly stayed behind with the rest of the army to watch the battle. The winged knights slowly emerged from the trees and gradually gained more and more speed. Kyra saw their lances point straight into the air. It was one of the safest weapons to use.
They had gained more ground and soon there was another quick trumpet call. The knights lowered their lances and charged at full speed, shouting at the dragon and pointing their weapons at it. The dragon still did not notice but was instead preoccupied with the surrounding vegetation and appeared to be cooling off alone. The soldiers were in reach...
Just then there was a loud voice and the dragon looked up. The brown dragon came barreling down through the sky, while this green one who had been turning a calmer blue was rapidly changing into white. It looked behind itself and saw the line of armored, winged lancers charging right at it with pointy wooden poles. It remained there, frozen.
Everything looked to be going well until out of the corner of her eye, Kyra saw a red dot growing larger and larger. The air seemed to be getting warmer and warmer and Kiel looked up into the sky with confusion and worry. Another dragon was flying down, much faster than the brown one. This one was red and orange, with unnatural blue eyes and smoke seemed to rise out from its scales. Kyra did not have time to react when the brown dragon was seconds from landing in front of the winged knights and the now-white dragon. 
But the red dragon was there first, shielding the mud dragon from the lances. The unexpected happened, the impossible happened...
Oh Heavens...
Apparently, one of the knights was farther up in the row than the rest of them, but before he could drive the lance into the dragon's heart the lance burst into flames.
The flames traveled along the length of the lance and reached the wings of the hussar...
There were screams and the winged knights were routing back in any direction they could find that was clear. 
"The devil is upon us!" one of them yelled.
"It is a monster, a fire monster! Heaven helps us!" shrieked another.
"Three moons!" screamed another.
But none of them, NONE OF THEM was screaming louder than the one whose wings were on fire. It was shrieking one long shriek as it rode uncontrollably back to the rest of the army. It was desperately looking for water, a lake, a pond, even a puddle, but there was nothing. He had already dropped his lance the moment he could, which was now burning up some surrounding grass. The wooden wings and the feathers were burning themselves up and the rider of the horse. He was screaming in pain, but there was nothing anyone could do. 
The dragon had spotted the rest of them, looking at them with menacing blue eyes. The brown dragon was looking at the winged knight with some pity, but was busy saying calm and soothing words to the red dragon.
Kiel was about to charge and attack the dragon himself, but his soldiers pulled him back. Everyone was beginning to retreat, and soon Kiel was routing with them. Kyra left as well, but she could still hear the scream of the burning winged knight. When he stopped, her heart wrenched and spirit broke.
Kiel and his army returned to the battlefield, but it was a completely different world. There was a battle raging, and Kiel was not a part of it. It had been going on ever since he left.
The winged knights had charged over and over again, decimating the Masks they encountered, but the Masks sent shift forces to slaughter the infantry and the two cannon teams. The light cavalry had done some damage, but their light armor was no match for the swords of the Masks. The heavily armored knights had stood a chance, but the Masks that were on foot were able to trap them and pull them off their horses. 
There was another giant trap. Whenever the hussars' lances made contact with the shining masks of the Masks, it did not break the lance into two. Normally, the winged knight would throw away the lighter and shorter broken piece and pull out his or her sabre, but instead they had to take the time to drop the heavier full lance. Those few seconds, mixed with surprise of the relative ease of smashing the masks, turned out to be deadly.
The full lances were too long for close-combat, so the Masks were able to hack away at the knights. Their armor held on, but they weren't dragon scales. Eventually, the Masks slashed away at the exposed legs or the head or the hands, or a footman would jump on and push the knight off. Some of them even killed the horses while the riders were mounted.
The army was retreating in great masses back home to Bielska. Kiel wanted to fight, but his soldiers forced him back to the camp. Kyra saw the rage in Kiel's eyes, eyes that had seen his proud army be decimated. But what made Kiel even more angry was that he wasn't there and he didn't suffer the same fate as the rest of his soldiers. He was the Grand Hetman, the commander of the armies, and this defeat left a stinging mark in his mind. He wasn't there for his army, and there was nothing worse to him than that.
The Masks followed the retreating army. There were pockets of them waiting in the forests and they used surprise attacks to pick off even more soldiers all the way home.
When they reached the camp there was finally calm. However, the great emptiness had a lasting impact on Kiel, Kyra, Dominic, and the entire army. 
There had been fifty soldiers that had marched upon Terchen, as well as another thirty from the late Ania's party. Out of the eighty men and women who had left the camp that morning, only thirty-one returned. 
=== Chapter 9: Times of Change ===
Kiel had decided that with such heavy losses, there was no longer a need for the camp. There would be no war with Kosburg, or Zelengorod, or even an attack on Terchen. It was over.
The once enthusiastic camp was now disassembling and the nobles were returning to their own land with their own soldiers. There was an organized schedule on when a noble would leave, so as it would not draw attention as if the entire army left in one huge noticeable mess. 
Kiel was the first to leave and his destination was the royal castle. He was mysteriously silent as he and his now shrunken force packed up their belongings and marched their way into the hills of Pyrrhia to the safety of the thick walls of Bielska Castle. Kyra and Dominic watched as the camp grew smaller and smaller as everyone left for home. They took one path at first, then Kyra guessed they all went their separate ways. She couldn't tell if they were disappointed or relieved, but she knew which one she felt. It took a while before Dominic finally returned to normal after such a traumatic experience. Once well he recalled the horrors and shivers he felt when he saw the dragon burn the winged knight and set him on fire. That final shriek never left his mind at night.
Kyra and Dominic joined up with a young noblewoman whose journey would take her to the royal castle as well. Her name was Anastasia, a blonde-haired energetic lady who had seen more war than most other people, yet her spirit was never brought down. She was not wealthy, so she had to take a job as one of the defense commanders of the castle, but she enjoyed her relatively calm daily tasks. On a windy night, she and her small band of castle guards, who had joined Kiel, left the camp for the castle. They were among the last to depart, leaving only a few of the poorer soldiers and nobles to clean up what was left. In the moonlit sky, they went off into the wilderness before returning to civilization.
It took them all night to finally arrive at Bielska Castle, hidden away in the forests and the hills of Pyrrhia, the welcoming mat of the great mountains. It did not rise up into the sky with high towers nor did it look majestic like the palaces of old. It was rather a dull grey stone structure with ancient windows and doorways. It was built for defense, not for show, but even it couldn't compare to some of the more well-designed buildings in the world. But it was the heart of Bielska, the place where the divided nobility could connect themselves together. Besides, it was what was on the inside that counts: treasure, paintings, sculptures, rugs, and other luxurious objects. 
"Whoa..." Anastasia remarked.
Kyra looked ahead on the dirt path that led to the castle. Surrounding the castle were all the nobles that Kyra thought had left for home. But she was wrong the moment she saw the banners waving in the air, the warriors standing around and in front of the castle, and the noise that came from within the walls.
Kyra, Anastasia, and Dominic all made their way to the bridge that crossed the river that flowed before the castle. None of the nobles stopped them, and in fact Kyra thought she heard them cheering them on to go inside. Once inside the courtyard, Kyra still could not figure out why. In fact, there was no reason for them to cheer at all, was there?
Not until she took her first steps inside the castle courtyard, when Anastasia firmly pushed her forward and to the side, out of the way of a slashing sword. Kyra fell to the ground after she lost balance, but she looked up in time to see a man die with a sword through his chest. She looked around and she saw only more of the same. The castle was under siege, but under attack by...by its own country?
The battle had reached its peak long before Kyra had even made it to the castle. This was only the clearing out part, the part where the enemy was finished off and taken care of for good. Kyra saw soldiers chase after squealing and terrified people who looked to be the royal guards. They were the royal guards.
Kyra looked up to the heat of a banner burning in flames. She stood up and gasped when she made out the sign of the old dead king's coat of arms. They were burning the royal banners, whoever they were. Who had attacked the castle? Why was the entire nobility camped out outside the castle, waiting? Anastasia and Dominic pushed Kyra further away from the battle. She saw a royal guard holding out on his own as a soldier sparred with him. It was evenly-matched until three more soldiers drove spears into the back of the guard. As Kyra was close to the doors of the throne room she felt something drip onto her face. She took one of her hands and brushed her face. On her fingertips was a dark red liquid, and she turned her head to see the same on the castle walls. She turned her head the other way and saw a soldier had driven a sword in and out of a guard's heart. It looked like one of Kiel's men.
Anastasia threw open the doors of the throne room and all three of them rushed inside. Inside, she saw two people standing in front of the throne, a bejeweled and beautifully carved wooden seat. 
Is that Kiel and...and the dead king's son?
Kiel had his sabre drawn and he was wearing his full suit of armor, looking maliciously at a young teenage boy who held a sword in one quivering hand. The boy was shaking, his knees were trembling, and his face was full of fear. Kiel took steps toward the boy, and in turn the boy took steps back.
"You...you can't kill me! I am the prince! I am the king's son!" the boy squeaked out. He had tripped backwards and fell onto the throne, his sword pointing up at Kiel. He was whimpering like a child though he was already a young adult.
Kiel easily brushed the sword aside and stared coldly into the prince's eyes. The prince, wearing a rich fur coat and a yellow hat, attempted to strike back, but Kiel knocked the sword away.
"You are nothing..." Kiel whispered into the boy's ears, but loud enough for the entire room to hear. Kiel grabbed the prince by the neck and threw him onto the floor, while afterwards he kicked the sword near the boy's hands. The boy immediately grabbed the sword and stood up, once again pointing it at Kiel.
Kiel approached the boy and the prince cowered back to the window. Kiel did not want to play along any further. He knocked the sword aside, and its steel body fell onto the floor for good. Grabbing the prince by the back of his neck, Kiel slammed the boy onto the floor. Kiel grabbed the prince's head and Kyra turned away, but she heard one long crack.
Kyra looked up and all she saw was Kiel looking down at the lifeless prince. No one said a word. It was quiet enough that Kyra heard footsteps. To her surprise, she saw three figures emerge from behind a curtain that hung behind the throne. It was three entirely different people, three she knew and feared. 
"Good, now we can finally get down to business," said the Grand Duke Heinrich von Klegsberg of Kosburg, his healthy and strong body emerging from the white curtain miraculously not stained with even a drop of blood. "No more distractions or interruptions."
"Our alliance can finally go as planned. Bielska finally has a ruler, and can finally stand on its own two legs," said Tsarina Catherine Ruslanovna of Zelengorod. "This boy was only in the way, and his continued bloodline would have corrupted your country."
"I do not agree with the way this was carried out, but there was no other way," sighed Emperor Justinian Primanus of Cecuria. "It had to be done..."
Kyra then saw the room be flooded with many other people. A group of judges and nobles approached Czeslaw Kiel and he bowed down before them. The other monarchs and nobles looked at Kiel intently as he stood and presented himself. The nobles took seats in benches before the throne, set out as if this was planned. 
"Today we hold the election for the next ruler of our nation of Bielska. One candidate, Grand Hetman Czeslaw Kiel has shown he is capable of ruling..." the judge trailed off as he saw the dead body of the prince. 
Today must have been the day of the election for the new king! Kyra thought. That is why Kiel...on this day in particular...so that he would be the only...
Kiel looked hard at the judge, who quickly continued, "And if there are no other candidates, the voting shall begin. Please raise up your right hand if you want Kiel to become your new king," the judge declared. 
Most of the nobles raised their hands, but Kyra saw a few who didn't. She looked at Kiel, who might have been taking a mental list of them for "future reference."
"Anyone who wants..." the judge looked around and then at the prince's body again. "It seems that we have only one candidate for the throne. Then, by the will of the nobility, Czeslaw Kiel is the new King of Bielska. Long may he reign!" the judge called out. 
The nobles all cheered, except for the few who didn't vote. The Grand Duke smiled, the Tsarina looked content, while the Emperor still didn't seem too sure of himself.
Kiel stood in front of everyone and gave his first royal speech. "My brothers and sisters, I am honored to be your king. However, I feel it would be a disgrace to be your king. This land is not ruled by kings or queens like others, it is ruled by the sacred nobility and thus it must remain so! I will lead our people as Grand Hetman and lead our armies against all of our enemies! But the power is in your hands!"
An uproar of cheer rang out of the nobles. 
"As my first act, I am joining with the Tsardom of Zelengorod, the Grand Duchy of Kosburg, and the Empire of Cecuria to create a powerful alliance that will help all of our people. This Alliance of the Sword will counter any and all enemies, including the growing threat of the Qian and the Shogun in their Northern Pact!"
This time the praise was divided, but still, Kyra was beginning to feel extremely uncomfortable and even nervous.
"Long live the Hetmanate! Long live the Bielskan Hetmanate! Long live Czelsaw Kiel!" the nobles chanted.
Just then the Emperor of Cecuria stepped up and went to Kiel's side. Justianian seemed to be displeased at something. 
"I see you employ Aredonians in your ranks, Grand Hetman. I am afraid that this shall not do. Unless she is gone right now I will not be part of any treaty or friendship," threatened Justinian. Kyra had not forgotten the hate between the Cecurians and the Aredonians, but she still felt that the Emperor had mixed feelings about Kiel. 
She wished she could have believed that Kiel would remember that they were together on the battlefield and it could mean something to him, but with the slightest nod from Kiel a group of soldiers approached her.
Dominic pulled her through the door and out of the room.
=== Chapter 10: Part of My Life ===
No one had tried to stop them as Dominic and Kyra ran away from the throne room and into the courtyard. Kyra heard voices shouting from within the room behind her and the scramble of soldiers to arms, but those noises faded until they were no more. Outside, not much had changed, only now that the surviving royal guards were being rounded up and arrested. Each one of them looked sad and helpless, but it was a better fate than death. However, perhaps for their sake of honor, death may have been the more appealing way to go.
No one really took notice of the two people fleeing, except for a few brief looks and one of the warriors perhaps had considered following them but stayed put. The once-clear and blue sky had become grey with overcast clouds that would soon wet the ground with rain. It fit, as if today the whole world mourned.
Kyra and Dominic crossed the bridge where the river was extremely choppy and fast moving. The large armies were still outside the walls, perhaps waiting for a sign, but for now they had put up tents the moment they spotted the possibility of rain. The two got away without anyone catching them or even trying to chase them down. They did not say anything to each other as they ran into the forest and kept on sprinting with no destination in mind. Anywhere away from Bielska was their place to go. Once they were far away from the castle and they could no longer go any further or else they would collapse from exhaustion, Kyra and Dominic stopped for a rest. They did not speak at first, rather they took a moment to breathe.
Kyra was the first to speak after she had gotten enough air into her lungs and her heart stopped burning as if on fire, or perhaps, in this case, in a freezing wind. 
"Why... do you.... think...they did not....follow... us?" she wheezed, but once she spoke she instantly realized she had not taken in enough air.
Dominic laid back against a tree and he gradually slipped his way down to the ground.
"Did you hear the Emperor? He just wanted you gone...not dead, exactly, just gone," Dominic suggested, also tired.
Dominic glanced around at the forest. The mist was beginning to form and spread, and the air felt moist and cold. He looked at Kyra, concerned.
"Where are we going to go?" he asked nervously. 
Kyra did not know anymore. She had thought that her home, Bielska, would be her home forever. She would be a soldier, perhaps marry and have children, and then grow old and die in that land, but now that dream was over. And all her other ideas were gone as well. With this new alliance it was now impossible to go to Zelengorod, or Kosburg, Cecuria, or return to Bielska. This also blocked her from her options in the desert, the tundra, the rainforest, or the northern forests. There was no place for her to go. 
Except home.
Her real home.
Aredonia.
It was the only place left to go, where she thought it would be the last place she would ever go to again. The road there was clear, but the only thing keeping herself from going was, ironically, herself. Could she go back home to her people, even after abandoning them for so long and for such a serious cause? Would it be too shameful or even too dangerous to return? 
What did it matter now? It was her only hope.
"I am going home, Dominic. I am going home to Aredonia," informed Kyra.
Dominic feasted his eyes on Kyra, then with big eyes looked down at himself. They were getting watery and his entire being wrenched in confusion, pain, and anxiety.
"But...but I can't go there. I...I can't. That land is too savage, its people too...too..."
"Too bloodthirsty? Too cruel?" Kyra finished for him. "Don't worry, I know."
Dominic gazed up at her. "Then what will happen to me? I have met Aredonian traders before. They laughed and joked and mocked me. They thought I was stupid and unfair. But I think they just hate anyone who isn't them. I wouldn't belong there, Kyra, so..."
Kyra felt a growing pain in her heart. At first she would gladly have left him here in the cold forest and go home. But now, after everything, how could she?
A few moments later she heard the sound of hooves and horses coming closer. Riding through the forest she saw a band of people, people who looked strikingly familiar. Out here it was unthinkable to see them this far into Bielskan land, but perhaps Razyn's cult knew no boundaries. 
In fact, it was Razyn leading the way on a white horse. Razyn wore chain mail armor and heavy boots with a purple cape, but he was still the same old man from before. He looked to have not shaven in a while from the white beard that was growing wildly. Razyn had changed from the many days since they had laid eyes on each other, or perhaps it was even weeks.
"Kyra, I have come to bring you back. The world is going to be filled with an unstoppable evil, and you know it firsthand. Kyra, come with me and you will be safe with my followers. I can keep us all out of harm's way. Please Kyra, come with us and we can hide out this storm," Razyn offered.
Kyra considered for a moment. It could possibly be the safest thing to do and she could be under the protection of an animus. But a thirst of tribe loyalty to her people and to her land shook deep into her foundations. The world was going to change, and she felt the uncertain and exciting atmosphere unfurl around her. There was not much time left before it all happened.
"No, Razyn, I am going home to Aredonia," decreed Kyra proudly.
"But..." Razyn started.
Kyra spoke firmly, but also in a way that made Razyn understand.
"Razyn, each and every one of us is loyal to somebody or some somebodies. When this world falls, I want to be with my people in my land and fight with them when this evil comes for us all. Razyn, you have your own people to worry about, and there are so many other tribes who will do the same for themselves. Go, Razyn, go to your people and protect them, and let me return home to mine."
Razyn looked at Kyra and she saw perhaps a tear forming in his left eye. He then looked at Dominic, who looked back. Dominic then turned to Kyra.
"Kyra, I know where I need to be. I am sorry that we cannot be together, but thank you for being a part of my life. Nothing could make me happier than having spent part of my existence with you," he thanked with the sadness of departure and separation.
Dominic approached Kyra and embraced her. She felt his cold arms around her body and she immediately hugged back. Before they broke off the hug, Kyra kissed Dominic, and in return he did the same and both of them loved each other very much for that moment. They would never forget that moment, or any memories from before. 
Dominic stepped away and went over to Razyn. Razyn's party was leaving and Dominic joined them, but not before waving one last gesture of good-bye. Kyra waved back, teary-eyed, but also hopeful that Dominic would be okay.
"I hope that one day we will meet again. I am sorry that we could not prevent this from happening. May you return to Aredonia and live with your people the way you want it to be," Razyn said.
"Razyn, I know this will all be over one day, and may we both be able to defend the things we love and care about so dearly," Kyra proclaimed in return.
Razyn smiled, then rode off. Kyra took one last look at him, then she turned around and trudged her way back home. 
=== Chapter 11: Fighting Spirit ===
The sunset was always more orange in Aredonia.
The mountains, the forests, and the grasslands morphed into marshes the further Kyra made her way home. She knew where it was, both from her experience on the patrols and some driving feeling that told her that she was going the right way. But there was another feeling of anticipation to see her old home again, but fear of not being accepted back. Her desertion was hardly something to simply set aside and forget about.
There was one positive thing that Kyra noticed on her trip home, and that was how quiet it was and how she had not encountered anything at all. While crossing the flat plain south, Aredonia was rather calm, with only a few dragons here and there, and not a group of more than two at any given time. As for people, perhaps the entire Bielskan army was at the castle, or the patrols were getting better at stealth.
Either way, Kyra's trip was uninterrupted until she ran into a most saddening and gruesome scene. She had reached her homeland, she was sure of it, but what welcomed her back sent waves of sorrow to circulate throughout her being. 
It could have easily been missed, but the angle the sunlight shone revealed a figure laying in the grass. It was only for a split-second, a moment Kyra could have passed as nothing, but luckily her mind told her otherwise. She walked over and soon she could make out who or what was on the ground. Perhaps if she had never left her home she would have been more angry, but all she could do was cover her mouth and close her eyes tearfully as she saw the dead Aredonian soldier. 
It was a female hoplite, a soldier, whose mangled body was spread out on the ground as if someone had tossed her lifeless body aside without any respect for who they had just killed, as if this person was nothing. Her bronze body armor, her greaves, and her helmet all reflected the light into Kyra's already tear-filled eyes. Even after leaving in disgust from her army, seeing her fellow Aredonian defeated pained her so much. It would only be right to give the dead a proper burial.
Kyra removed the hoplite's armor and dug a hole for her with her hands and with her weapons. It was difficult without proper tools, but the earth was soft in this area. Kyra placed the body into the grave and covered it up with the dirt. She placed a thick branch on the grave as a marker and she went to search around for a bit. After looking around, she found the perfect smooth white boulder for a headstone. She returned to the grave, removed the branch, and placed the rock on top. With a dagger, she carved some letters into it so that anyone who passed by would tell this was sacred ground. 
In neat Aredonian letters she carved, "UNKNOWN AREDONIAN HOPLITE, NEVER FORGOTTEN!" and the Common Tongue translation was carved below it. 
Kyra stayed by the grave for a while, thinking of how this woman could have died. It could have been a dragon attack, or an ambush by bandits, or a sudden problem with her health. Kyra looked at the armor she had taken off, and she put it on her own body. It would be better to look like she belonged in her home, and this would be another way to honor the one who had died some time before.
It took her a few days to reach the deeper parts of the marsh where her hometown was to be found. Most villages were located by natural defenses, while others had their own defenses built. On her way, she saw patrols of warriors quickly riding on horses, watching her for a moment, then continuing on their routes. It was sad, but the sight of a single warrior crossing the marsh was not an uncommon sight. One warrior could lose all of his or her friends in battle, be victorious, and return home to do it all over again. If you lost and retreated, you might as well not return home alive.
The deeper marsh was very dangerous, and more than once Kyra saw the burnt corpses of her fellow people as a result of a run-in with dragons. Mud dragons were dangerous with their extraordinary strength, determination, and fire. Aredonians had that will to fight, that mentality, but unfortunately not the size nor the weapons to be of equal power. Kyra passed by a field of rocks, a field that was very familiar.
She was home. Once she crossed the field, she walked over some welcoming mounds, through a graveyard, and in the distance there was a village. Kyra did not remember the name of her hometown, nor did it matter to her anyways. There was no mistaking that this was the town of people who had her blood and her spirit. In this world, it was logical to believe that one day this village would be burnt to the ground, destroyed beyond recognition, and all of her family would be slaughtered by the dragons from above and from in the mud. But as long as the spirit lived, the fight would go on to the end of time.
There was an Aredonian legend that at the end of the world the universe would straighten itself out. The people who had been suffering for thousands of years would rule over the world once again, or rather what came next after the world ended. The dragons and all of the enemies of those poor people would be either enslaved or destroyed once and for all. But after spending time with Wladyslaw, his view on dragons and the different peoples of Pyrrhia made her think that such an end would not be something she would want. 
Kyra walked along a wooden fence enclosing some sheep and inside some pens there were pigs. There were small fields of wheat, and cattle were grazing on the grasses surrounding the town. It was almost evening and the sky was beginning to turn from blue to pink. There was not much going on, in fact the village looked to be empty of all people. Kyra walked through the streets and saw no one, not a man, woman, or even a child. There was no one, until Kyra turned at a corner of a house and almost ran into an old man.
It was the village elder! It had been forever since Kyra had seen this man, and she was surprised that he was still alive. The village elder did not recognize her at first, but after bypassing the armor and from the smile she was giving him, something jolted in his memory. 
"You...you have returned..." he gasped suspiciously. In all the excitement, Kyra had forgotten that perhaps her family and friends would not be happy to see her again. The elder looked at her impatiently, and as if he wished she were not in front of him. The elder was an elderly person, wearing black robes and sporting a long grey beard and deep hazelnut-colored eyes. 
"Where is everyone?" asked Kyra. Not expecting a response, Kyra was temporarily surprised to see him point behind her and over a small mound in the distance. Past that there was a small hill, glowing orange in the evening sunset. Kyra quickly ran in that direction.
"At least you have returned in our time of need!" the elder shouted after her, then he returned to his home to look after the empty village. 
Kyra hurriedly ran through the wheat fields that were in her path to the hill. She could have easily went around, but she did not want to take the time nor did the thought ever occur to her in the first place. She speedily hurried to the hill, climbed to the top, and watched in amazement and pride at what lay down below. 
Word in Pyrrhia can spread quickly like a forest fire, or as slowly as a snail in honey. Aredonia must have received word or rumors of the formation of two giant alliances in their vicinity.
This alliance between Bielska, Cecuria, Zelengorod, and Kosburg could completely subjugate Aredonia. Aredonia would not stand a chance against all four powers, even at home. This is why they are getting ready for war, because no one will kindly tell them if or when it will start.
Kyra stood on top of the hill, watching everyone getting ready for a future conflict. Men and women were training, the elderly and children were readying supplies and taking time to get used to swinging swords, and the Aredonian fighting spirit raged on in their hearts like the roar of a dragon or the blaze of the desert sun. 
They were her people, and she would defend all of them and her home, or die knowing it would not be in vain. She marched down to join them. The orange sun shone down and began to dim even further, but still there was no place where the sky was more orange than in the land of the Aredonian people.
=== Chapter 12: Lies ===
Had it not been for a curious group of young children, all fiery and ready for battle, Kyra might have slept on the cold ground for the night. Instead, as she was sneaking around, a group of boys and girls all wearing tunics and strong shoes saw her and let the entire camp know about it. Kyra had expected that she would be expelled from the camp or even killed, but no one knew who she was. A young couple unselfishly let Kyra sleep in an extra bedroll, which provided some warmth in the cool night. 
Kyra had wondered whether or not anyone would remember her. It had been a few months since she had been banished, but then again she would want to have been forgotten by her people for her betrayal. She wondered if somewhere in this camp was her family. They must have been here, unless they too were banished just for being related to Kyra. Her betrayal was quite dramatic, as she remembered it.
The war had lasted only a few days, but already Kyra had enough of it. King Clauseus of Cecuria had invaded and had taken the throne from King Argus, a ruler who Kyra had respected. Her people were more than happy to welcome Clauseus, but unlike her people, Kyra did not thirst for the blood of her enemies. In fact, Kyra saw the whole war against dragons as an act of recklessness. Her fellow Aredonians didn't think so. Her family didn't think so. After that, Clauseus called upon the entire continent to rise up and fight. Some nations joined him, others did not. Kyra had been content before, but when the two groups of nations went to war, it was enough. She ran away from her home, leaving her parents and relatives in a fit of rage. She traveled all the way to neighboring Bielska, where she enlisted as a soldier. The war ended shortly afterwards, and she remained in Bielska after receiving a letter from her family that she was never to return home. 
Had her slumber not been interrupted, Kyra would have slept well into the day after adventuring far and wide in search for her village and her people. But at some point during the night, when everything seemed to be calm and quiet, a thundering noise began to crawl its way over the land and into the camp.
Kyra awkwardly got out of her bedroll and stood up, despite the freezing wind that was blowing against the few trees and the grasses. Her eyes adjusted to something in the distance. It was a multitude of lights.
From her tiredness, her reactions were greatly weakened and not as sharp as if they were when she was fully rested. Unfortunately, the same could be said for most of the camp around her, mostly sound asleep or slowly gathering up what was going on. Kyra stared for a moment, not knowing if anything was wrong or right.
Some of the already-awake soldiers and camp members quickly ran around the camp, waking anyone who was sleeping and shouting at them loudly. After the moment of realization, everyone was running to grab their spears and put on their shiny bronze armor. Men and women jumbled helmets and gauntlets and spears as they ran to the call of their commanders and fellow friends. However, it might have been too late.
Fear seized Kyra as she walked closer to the line of Aredonians facing the lights on the horizon. No doubt they were Masks, but neither Kyra nor the camp would believe they would be fighting them anytime soon. It should have been the Alliance of the Sword that would shed the first blood, but it was Clauseus and his army. Then a frightening thought gripped Kyra by the throat, making her unable to breathe. 
The Aredonians have no knowledge of the Masks. In fact, this may be the first time they have even encountered them.
Kyra's heart and spirit plunged as she saw the terribly small number of ready and able defenders watching the Masks approach. Perhaps there was only two dozen of them, with one or two being added to the line every few minutes. Kyra made it two dozen and one. She had equipped her armor and her helmet, and in her hand she gripped her long wooden spear. In her other hand she carried a round shield that she picked up from a random pile of objects on the grass. She made her way to the line and stood side by side with her people.
She looked around at the warriors next to her, who wore exactly the same outfit as her. To her right a new fellow approached, a young long-haired teenager who nervously looked at the incoming enemy. Kyra turned to the left. That person felt her stare, then he turned around, annoyed, to look at Kyra. That person's eyes went wide and his mouth was left ajar when he saw her. It was only for a moment, but then he quickly returned his attention to the Masks. Kyra only needed that moment.
Father...?
She could not have forgotten her father's looks. This man's hair may have turned gray and the wrinkles on his face were now more intense, but it was no doubt the same man who raised her. That was all Kyra had to think. In a flash, her mind went back to the glowing lights. She didn't know how to feel. But she knew that she wanted something like this to have happened. 
Sweat poured down her face, but Kyra noticed the other soldiers not having even a twinge of nervousness. They had no idea what they were facing, but they still felt invincible. The masked horsemen closed in, and the Aredonians held out their spears and covered themselves with their shields. 
Kyra heard something else in the distance, like a faint boom.
Then, all of a sudden, something in the sky came flying towards the line of warriors. It was like a fiery comet traveling across the night sky. The Aredonians dispersed.
A fireball...
Someone pushed Kyra out of the way as the fiery projectile crashed into the few poor soldiers who could not get away fast enough. The grass instantly caught on fire and Kyra felt part of her arm burning and in pain. She was led back to the camp, where the rest of the line regrouped with some reinforcements from the camp. It was her father who had saved her.
They were waiting, expecting, waiting and expecting the blow from the cavalry charge. There was heavy breathing, pounding of footsteps, and the call of voices, but the Masks came so fast that before they knew it the warriors could see the actual horrifying face the Masks wore. Nothing could be more terrifying than seeing an enemy with black lifeless eyes, except for the wicked smile that came with it. Each Mask had a large, dark, and malicious grin on their masks, which the Aredonians felt confused about and even a bit worried.
Once again the spears were lowered and the shields were positioned to block. 
Any moment now...
The charge was devastating.
The Aredonian line took down the entire first row of horsemen, but even though they were impaled through the chest they did not stay down! Suddenly, a second row came rolling in with as much lack of fear of death as the first row! These Masks did not hesitate to throw themselves at the Aredonians, and the Aredonians were knocked aside almost as easily as a house of cards in the wind. But still it was not a push-over, it was a fight to the finish. 
Kyra knew the secret, and she destroyed several of the masks, shattering them into pieces over and over again. Her companions quickly adapted and did the same, defeating some of the enemy. But the Masks never stopped coming. 
A light went up behind Kyra. A tent was on fire! This cavalry charge was not the only element of the plan, which Kyra sadly realized. The sleepy camp was helpless as Masks encircled it and entered from behind, slaughtering everyone and burning everything. There were screams, and then there was nothing but the crackle of fire. There were fights, and then there were bodies on the bloodied ground. 
Kyra had no time to react as the Masks kept coming after her and the line. They fought and fought, but there was no end. No matter how many Masks went down there was always more than enough to replace them. The line fell one by one. Kyra defeated another Mask, perhaps her fifth, when she paused to look around. The only thing that caught her eye was her father. The Masks had surrounded him, and before she could scream or cry or run towards him the Masks drove their wicked swords through his body. Before Kyra even saw her father's body fall to the ground, something smashed against the back of her head and everything went dark.
Some time later...
The pain did not end. Her vision did not get clearer, and neither did her reasoning. It was dawn, the day after the attack. The fires had died down, dead like the camp. There were survivors. They were being packed into tight groups and guarded by Masks, whose masks were not glowing as bright anymore due to the sunrise. But there were more people on the ground, and not enough dead Masks down there with them.
Her arms were bound and she was placed sitting mockingly in front of the dead body of her father. Kyra couldn't feel anything anymore. No anger, no sorrow, no fear...nothing. She felt like nothing.
How could any of this happen? What did they do to deserve such a fate? 
Two figures walked up to Kyra, who did not turn her head to acknowledge them. 
"K...Kyra?" a soft and surprised voice asked her. 
Dominic?
Kyra turned around and saw Dominic standing in front of her! He was just the way he had been when he left her, with the same clothing and same face and everything. Next to him was someone who resembled the green Mask from the hill of Terchen, but this figure was orange instead of green. 
Dominic knelt down before Kyra and placed his hands on her shoulders. Their eyes met and he smiled. Kyra did not feel like nothing anymore. She wished she had gone with Dominic and Razyn before and maybe none of this would have happened. She would not have thought of this before, but maybe Dominic was her true love.
Then why was her true love here?
"Dominic?" Kyra cried out weakly.
"Who...is....Dominic?" Before Kyra's eyes, all of a sudden her entire life was one big lie.
Like snow blowing off of a rooftop in the wind, what was Dominic blew off the figure that Kyra thought was him. The face, the smile, the eyes, the nose, the body, the clothing, all of it blew away in the wind like smoke and powder. Underneath was a purple Mask, who was just like the orange one next to it.
On its mask, a purple wide smile faded in. Then the purple Mask laughed at her, laughed with joy. Hurtful, hurtful pleasure.
Tears finally came out of Kyra's eyes.
He was never real...
He was all a lie...
How could the world do such a thing...
Kyra saw more and more Masks coming into the camp. The purple Mask looked without emotion at her, but as if it could think on its own. But who could it really be?
Dominic was never real, just an illusion. His love, his care, his final farewell were all lies and schemes. The Masks could do anything to her. They could have tortured her, hurt her, killed her, but instead they preferred to play with her mind and her emotions. 
More Masks flooded the area, and the purple and orange ones left Kyra alone with her mind and memories. But what good were they if she didn't know which ones were true and which ones were false? 
=== Epilogue ===
The darkness was overwhelming, the chains were heavy, the wall was rough, and the pain was excruciatingly unbearable. How many days has it been? How many weeks? How many months? Certainly not months. It was impossible to tell whether it was day or night, and keeping track of the days was something given up a long time ago. 
There was no more strength left, but the will to live was all that remained after what seemed to be the verge of insanity. The pain could always be tolerated, no matter how much or how little as long as it didn't squeeze the life out, but what went on in the mind could crush a human into the lowest depths of despair. Alone in the dark, with torches blown out and no contact with any living being at any given moment. He was feed three times a day, nothing nutritional nor appetizing, but enough for him to get by. He had shrunken, his shackles became looser as his body lost more and more of its mass. His muscles were suffering, both from inactivity and the pressure of his bondage. He had learned to cope with breathing less and less for being hung on the wall off of the ground made him lightheaded and sent pain through his chest and to his heart. 
Nothing was worse than the psychological and mental damage. From the moment he was sent into this prison, he had only one companion: the dead body and now the skeleton of his friend. First it was the loss, then the stench, but now it was bitter loneliness. No, not utter loneliness, the promise that his solitude would never end. He would die in this place, and he would never see anyone ever again. At first he tried to bring back memories, but they became too painful to bear. A SeaWing, eyes blue as a sapphire. A friend, a brother, a life from before. The sun's glowing rays, the moons shining light, the sound of birds, the smell of pine, the taste of salt. Those memories were nothing anymore, he was nothing anymore. Once he was somebody, a friend, a brother, a leader, a savior, but it was all over. He was now the lowest of creatures.
Someone had entered the cell, bringing in a light. Was it time to eat again? Whether it was breakfast, lunch, or dinner it did not matter. All the meals were the same, and served at the same intervals. There was more noise than expected for a simple serving of food. Suddenly, the light grew brighter even with his eyes closed. He felt the shackles around his arms loosen, but they loosened far more than they had ever been before. There was no memory of his hands being free, so the feeling was both relieving and strange. A sound of metal, another sound of a key turning, and then he dropped to the ground like a rock.
He allowed himself to be carried, showing no resistance at all. How could he, without any strength, both physically and mentally? Fighting back was both impossible and useless. He would end up in the same place anyway, wherever it was. He did not rejoice in his freedom, for he was not free. 
His legs hit back and forth against the stone stairs. The air seemed to be getting warmer and it felt like he was being carried upwards. Two pairs of hands held him by the arms, and the sound of heavy boots hitting the stone was right next to his ears for him to hear. A door opened, and then his body smacked against a door frame. He was still inside a building, but there was light, actual sunlight, not only candles. He was carried a little bit further, he felt something that might have been a rug, and then he was let go and dropped onto the rug. He might have passed by as a dead person, but his seemingly lifeless body still clung to life. He was then turned over onto his back by some arms.
The footsteps left and grew fainter, except for one pair that seemed to be edging closer.
An image came into his mind, an image of the figure he knew was standing right over him. Long ago, or perhaps not too long ago, he was not sure, he would have cared, but now there was no urge to feel anything. 
Nonetheless, his eyes opened. Surprisingly, he was sitting in a chair. More than a chair, a throne. He was in a large great hall, built with marble and gold. The throne was set up high on a tall stage at the back, with staircases on either side. From above he could see a long table with many seats. There were painting on the walls, and statues by every space between the windows. There were images of people, but there were also dragons...
For Heaven's knows how long he had been alone, but in a brief moment that had changed. There were two figures standing on the top step of the staircases with their backs turned to him. And standing next to him was another person. The Masked One. He was not surprised nor cared. 
However, being moved to somewhere more hospitable and lit actually did cause an immediate, but gradual, change inside his head and body. The torture was over, and that was all that mattered. He glanced up at the Masked One. 
It was an old acquaintance, older than nearly anything in existence. He opened his mouth, but a long time of keeping it shut and not uttering a single word made it difficult. Aside from food, the only other time he opened his mouth was during the tortures, or from the pain of being hung on a wall, but they didn't cause him to squeal anymore. 
"Of course...you didn't die," he said finally.
"Did you honestly expect me to have perished? I have been alive for over three-thousand years, Wladyslaw, and do you think that I could not escape such a pathetic end? Falling off of a mountain does not seem like the right end to me. An animus dies either by his or her own fault," he hesitated, "or the fault of others." The voice of the Masked One sounded familiar, but it was altered with the addition of the great grey ancient mask that was worn. 
The voice was ancient, but strong and commanding. 
The Masked One continued. "I cannot say that your death would have saddened me. But it is now more preferable that you live for the rest of your natural life. It is pleasing to see that you will be alive for this moment," he explained.
Wladyslaw sat up in the chair, the words making him uncomfortable. "You will not succeed. Your plan failed once...surely lightning can strike twice in the same place." 
The Masked One turned away for a second. He conferred with one of the figures on the staircase, and came back with something in his arms. 
An egg!
"I still don't see your point, Clauseus. I cannot understand how your idea of a dragon-free world would be carried out. Dragons have animuses, armies, queens, and ways to defeat you. You also don't have the support of anyone anymore," Wladyslaw pointed out. "Don't harm that dragon egg."
The Masked One looked at Wladyslaw, and then at the egg. 
"It is my egg, Wladyslaw. It is my egg and my dragon," Clauseus said, gently hugging the silvery-black egg. It looked like there might have been stars glowing on the shell. 
Wladyslaw hesitated. What did that mean?
"Wladyslaw, perhaps you do not understand my point because you don't understand what my point is," Clauseus clarified.
Wladyslaw paused and stared hard at Clauseus and the egg.
Clauseus looked at where Wladyslaw's eyes landed. "Oh! You think that I will break this egg? Is that what you think, Wladyslaw. I don't see how you could ever come up with that conclusion."
Wladyslaw's mouth tried to say something, but the words the Masked One said confused him and didn't seem right or fit at all. 
Clauseus sighed. He stroke the egg while talking. "I thought you would understand by now."
"Understand what!?" Wladyslaw tried to shout in dismay.
Clauseus shook his head gently. "Getting rid of all of the dragons, Wladyslaw? That was never my intended purpose, Wladyslaw. That wasn't meant to be..."
Wladyslaw sat speechless, but his mind was fully running. "But the war..."
"Everything was part of the plan, Wladyslaw. The nations were supposed to have become divided. The gems were supposed to have been found. I was supposed to have lost. I was supposed to have fallen off of that mountain and appeared to have died."
Wladyslaw was breathing heavily now, but something played in his head like a tune. 
"It is not difficult for one cunning man to manipulate a multitude of unintelligent, bloodthirsty hordes. I waited for the right moment to appear. I brought an idea that many wanted, but that idea was never my intention. Do you understand? I was never going to go to war with the dragons."
Suddenly, words came out of Wladyslaw's mouth: 
"Four terrors...the scarred wounds will reopen and this world shall pay the price!
All noble and royal blood will water the earth,
The ancient beast will rise to cleanse,
The will of the fallen shall return,
And the masters shall rule again.
Can this fate be changed,
Or will man and dragon fail once more?"
Clauseus looked at Wladylsaw, who looked back with worried eyes.
"You know three of the terrors. The first one was a terrible massacre of the royal families throughout Pyrrhia. It did not work out entirely, but nonetheless it was effective. 
The ancient beast. I awakened a judge to sift through more than just the people. You shall see," he explained, extending one hand to a statue of a dragon below. 
He continued. "The will of the fallen shall return? Do you know what the Masks are, Wladyslaw? They are the literal and physical embodiment of the spirits of warriors from the past. Their will is my will."
Clauseus knew that Wladyslaw did not understand what the last terror was.
"The masters shall rise again...Wladyslaw, let me tell you a story. I was a young boy, about a few thousand years ago. It was a cozy and quiet life. Things were different back then..." he began.
The Masked One stopped talking. His hand tightened into a fist.
"No. Things were not different back then. They are the same as today! You hate animuses, Wladyslaw, you would kill them. Your father killed animuses, did you know that!? Your family is a line of hunters! When I was a boy I was still innocent. But then your kind came in and SLAUGHTERED everyone I cared about. They killed my family, my friends, my brothers and sisters. Why? Just because they happened to be an animus! That was the Massacre of the Animuses. I lived, and even though the prophets warned about me, they would agree with me. Even the author of the Topaz Gem Prophecy hid his true feelings. If he could have, he would have wanted to destroy all of you."
Clauseus looked at the shaken Wladyslaw.
"We are the masters, Wladyslaw. The animuses and the prophets. You and the nobility and royalty don't deserve to rule Pyrrhia. That is my plan, all of it. Destroy the nobility, befriend the dragons, raise an army, and shake the foundations of the bloody and corrupt world in which we live in. Everyone thought we were dead, that I was dead, but now they will all see."
Clauseus took a step back.
"The nobles will be destroyed, but it will be by the will of the people. The peasants, the servants, the poor, they will never suffer again. Everyone will be equal. There will be no more kings and queens to manipulate and enslave for their own benefit. The animuses will lead to a brighter future, where people are equal and they will no longer have to worry about dragons." He patted the egg in his hand.
"You will see it, Wladyslaw. It is going to be glorious. Pyrrhia is going to change forever. Peace and prosperity, and cleansed of the filth that is you and your nations," he said. "Just like how the world was before. The animuses are true leaders, and they will return to leading this continent like Simeon."
Clauseus began walking down the stairs.
"Man and dragon will not fail. We will not be stopped. Give up your ties, your patriotism, your nobility, and perhaps there may be a place for you."
Wladyslaw had tears in his eyes, from what had been poured onto him and from the fact he could do nothing.
Clauseus walked down the steps, still clutching the egg.
"Your brother did..."
The End! Thank you for reading the Second Scavenger Series! To be continued in the next series.
Category:Fanfictions
Category:Fanfictions (Fanon)
Category:Fanfictions (Incomplete)
Category:Content (Armored Scavenger)