Four Warriors Cometh (Remastered - Part the Second)

Well. It's official, I wrote a book too long for one wiki page. lol. The old page tells me I've exeeded however many kilobites and I can't post more on it. But since when did that stop me?
So, this is the page where I will put the final part of FWC. We're in the homestretch guys. I have about a fifth left to go. I will begin were the first document left off, Chapter 44. For the first part of the book, please go here: 
== Chapter 44 A Queen's Fury ==
Sayna stared at Torrin for a moment, and found her own confusion mirrored in his eyes. Then she pulled away and bolted toward the otter messenger. She reached him first.
“We’re under attack? How are the woods on fire?”
He looked relieved to see her, perhaps he was just happy to see someone who was supposedly in charge. “Milady. The Greeneyes are setting fire to Mossflower! They’re shooting flaming arrows enmass across where the Moss is most narrow. We need a plan of defense!”
At that moment, Warthorn rushed up, along with Bella and Argulor. Sayna stepped back to give them room, and found herself standing beside Torrin again as frantic conferences were held. No one even looked at her, and that was probably a good thing. She had no ideas, no clue what to do. But if the forest burned down, they would have nothing, no place to hide, no creatures left to fight.
“Sayna!” 
Torrin was shaking her. “Now’s not the time, breathe!”
She did, gasping in air as she properly felt the burning in her eyes. She blinked hard, saying, “Sorry! Sorry. I’m fine.”
She looked up at him as chaos grew around them, knowing he had no answer, but wishing he did. “What should we do?”
He looked just as worried as she felt. “Where are Tynek and Rose, do you know?”
Sayna shook her head. She had no idea. She stood close to Torrin as creatures ran around them, those who were celebrating mere moments before now panicking.
“It’s that Greeneyes queen!” Sayna heard someone yell in passing. Another voice answered. 
“She’s attacking because we stole her brother! We should have never saved him!”
Sayna blinked. The mysterious prince of the Greeneyes. Could he help them? He had saved her before. She looked to where Bella, Argulor, and Warthorn were in frantic conference, and she grabbed Torrin’s arm. “I have an idea!”
“Ok!” He looked ready to accept anything. 
“I need a way back to Brockhall.” 
Torrin paused, and nodded, before grabbing her paw and pulling her through the flow of creatures. She held tightly to him, knowing if they became separated in this mass panic, she would not be able to find him again. He made his way toward the jousting arena, and sure enough, many equines were gathered near here. 
Torrin sucked in a deep breath, calling, “Hey! We need someone to carry us to Brockhall, the fastest among you!”
Sayna looked around for Dancer, but didn’t see her.
She’s probably off on a romantic outing with Wildfire. How not helpful of her.
A lanky kelpie trotted forward, stringy mane the color of weeds against a pale green coat. “Milord, milady. I will see you there safely.”
Sayna did not pause, did not allow herself time to think. “Thank you!” She gasped as she vaulted onto the kelpies’ back. She reached an arm down for Torrin and helped to pull him on their mount’s back as the kelpie broke into a trot, then a gallop.
It weaved through crowds like the creatures composing them were mere trees, moving with elegance that belied it’s somewhat unnatural appearance. Within seconds they burst through the chaos and into a clear night, flying down a forest road, the firelight of the festival fading behind them.
Sayna leaned forward, feeling the drumming hooves beneath her. The last time she had ridden a kelpie, Warthorn had been carrying her as she struggled against hypothermia. She didn’t recall a lot.
But this, this was as close to flying as any land-bound creature could come. The kelpie was faster than any mount Sayna had sat upon, faster even than Dancer. It leapt over fallen logs with ease, crashing free of the road wherever it turned or twisted, always running straight for Brockhall.
In what seemed mere minutes, they skidded to a stop beside the door into Brockhall’s kitchen.
Sayna vaulted from the kelpies’ back, and ran for the closed door. She heard Torrin following close behind. 
“Come inside!” He called to their kelpie helper. “It’ll be safer here should the fire spread this far.”
Sayna pulled the door open, allowing both Torrin and the kelpie into the kitchen. Then she pushed the door shut. She stood there a moment, getting her breath back. Then she turned to Torrin, grabbing his arm. “Come on, we’ve got to get to the infirmary.”
“The infirmary?” He asked, as he chased after her.
“Yes, I need to talk to the Greeneye prince!”
To his credit, Torrin didn’t miss a step. He just followed her as she bounded up several flights of stairs and charged down a few hallways. She slid to a halt outside the heavy oak door of the infirmary, and forgoing knocking and introduction, she shoved it open.
Germain and Urran sat at a table, talking over tea, complete with porcelain teapot. Groddil sat with them, and Asher slept in his cradle a little behind them.
Groddil stood the moment he saw her. “Lass! What is it, you look like you’ve seen a ghost.”
Sayna held a paw to her chest, taking a moment to get her breath back. Then she gasped, “The forest… Tsarmina’s set fire to it! We’re under attack!”
Groddil stared at her for a moment, then glanced at his sleeping nephew. “Bella will need help.”
He dashed out the door, a faint glow of blue lending his aging paws speed. Within seconds, he’d disappeared around a corner. Sayna looked to Germain as she stood, raising a paw to her lips and pointing at Asher. Then she hurried over. “What is this about Tsarmina and fires? She’s set the woodlands alight?”
Torrin nodded. “According to reports, yes.”
“We came to speak to the Greeneye prince, if he’s awake at all.” Sayna gasped. “We need all the help we can get. Maybe he knows a way to stop her, she is his sister.”
Germain crossed her arms. “You know that you speak of a critically ill patient, do you not? Yes, he has awoken, but he is weak and should be avoiding excitement of any sort…”
“Germain!” Sayna protested. “This could be life and death!”
The mouse healer pursed her lips. At last she said, “Very well, just this once. And don’t touch him. I don’t think he’s contagious anymore, but I can’t make any promises.”
Sayna just nodded. Germain sighed, and motioned for them. “Come.”
They walked past Urran, and Germain motioned to him, saying softly, “Do keep an eye on Asher, won’t you?”
He dipped his head. 
It was odd, to see the creature she’d called father, the proud leader of Evenglade, so completely subservient to another. But at least he did not share in the death that had befallen his one-time citizens.
Germain lead Sayna into another room, just like the first, and Torrin followed. This room too, had the curtained off doors. And this room also held occupants. One was Sandingomm, so swathed in bandages she actually wore as much as a normal creature. One was a stately ermine lady with snowy fur. 
And sitting with them, tiny in their presence, was a young mouse with wild hair the color of fire. 
Sayna stopped dead in her tracks as he looked up, and their eyes met. His widened, and he stood up, too large shirt slipping from one thin shoulder. “Salley!”
He blinked, stammering, “Er… I didn’t expect… to see you here.”
“Brek?” Sayna whispered, barely able to believe it.
He looked like he had as a kit, when she’d caught him stealing sweets. “I guess Rose didn’t want you to panic, did she?”
Sayna lunged foreward, and wrapped him in a tight hug, pulling him off the ground like he weighed nothing… because he hardly did. “Brek!”
She could feel the tears in her eyes, and she felt them drip down her cheeks. “Brek, how?”
He hugged her back, burying his face in her shoulder for a moment. “That’s… a long story. A very long one.”
“I blamed myself for years.” Sayna wept. She wept and she couldn’t stop her tears, she couldn’t even slow them. “Because they stole you away and I wasn’t fast enough, wasn’t good enough to save you. I’m sorry Brek, I’m so sorry.”
He pulled back, laying a paw on her shoulder. “Don’t be, please. Because…”
Here he paused. His eyes. They were so much older now. And yes, he was simply older, but this was wisdom born of experience. He swallowed, and looked away. “They didn’t steal me, Salley. Or should I say.. Sayna. Well, they might have at first. But in the end, I chose to go with Gingivere. I chose to serve him.”
Sayna drew away, slowly letting her paws fall to her sides. “You… what?”
Brek clenched both paws, and looked away. Then he met her gaze with a fierceness she had never dreamed he could possess. “Hate me if you must. But Gingivere saved me, and he was actually trying to do something. He’s a real leader, unlike father. You followed your path, and I…”
He took a deep breath. “I followed mine.”
Sayna just blinked. She was shocked, completely befuddled in fact, and indeed, part of her was upset, even quite annoyed. But she found her words were true as she shook her head. “Brek, I could never hate you. You’re my brother, now and forever, just as Rose is my sister.”
She paused, adding, “At least, if you’ll have me.”
Slowly, he smiled. Then he flung his arms around her again, saying, “I missed you so much. Do you know how many times I asked myself what you would have done? A lot!”
“Brek I…”
Do you know how many nights I sobbed myself to sleep over you? Probably hundreds.
But she just said, “I missed you too.”
Germain stepped in front of her. “Ahem. I hate to interrupt your lovely sibling reunion to remind you that the forest is burning as we speak but… yes. The forest is being turned into a raging inferno of death while you have your emotional moment. Maybe save all this for a bit later?”
“The forest is on fire?” Brek yelped, standing up straight. 
“Yes. The kitty queen did it.” Germain said.
Brek bared his teeth, anger boiling just behind his eyes as he snarled, “Tsarmina.”
“Naturally.” Germain nodded. “Now, our high queen desires an audience with your prince, young Voh. Perhaps you’d like to be there.”
Sayna stared in wonder as Brek composed himself in mere seconds, bringing a paw to his chest in what appeared to be an ingrained salute. “Of course.”
Gone was the overly emotional kit from Evenglade. In his place stood a young soldier, disciplined and orderly. She could almost imagine them side by side. 
Sayna shook herself when Torrin laid a paw on her shoulder, and she gave him a little nod. Then she followed Brek and Germain to one of the blue curtained rooms. A creature of momentous stature lay inside, on several beds. For all his height, however, he was all fur and bones, a skeleton that still drew breath. Brek sat in a chair by his bed, and Torrin pulled up two, one for himself, and one for her as well. Sayna wordlessly sat.
Germaine walked to the sleeping cat prince, and patted his shoulder. “Sir prince? Ah, sir prince. Yes, I know you were sleeping, but you see, you have visitors.”
She glanced at Sayna, before saying, “And I think you’ll be quite interested to meet them.”
The cat moved with effort, but he was unable to fully sit up. Germain fluffed up his pillows to offer him some support, and she pulled away at last, bowing to Sayna. “Milady, I will allow you fifteen minutes. Then I must insist that he rest again.”
She walked from the room.
Sayna wondered how mad Indigo might be about her being guardless in the same room as the Greeneye Prince. But honestly, he posed no threat in this state.
He stared at her in wonder, pale green eyes gleaming with curiosity. She imagined her black eyes reflected that emotion. So this was her benefactor from last winter, the reason she lived, and evidently, the reason Brek lived too. He looked nothing like her memory of Verdauga. He was weak, while his father had been like the immobile cliffs of the shore. He was ragged, with wavy hair that spilled wild across his pillows. His father had been the picture of power and elegance, not a hair on his head out of place.
This was the prince of the mighty Greeneyes? But then, he had been very ill.
“You’re the one who saved me.” She said, forgoing any pleasantries.
He just nodded. His voice was nothing like she’d expected either, it was soft and weary. “You are the queen of Old Mossflower.”
There was a reverence to his tone.
“I am actually princess of the court of mice, Sayna, daughter of the Lukes. And I come to you for dire reasons, Prince Gingivere.”
He nodded, not wasting any more time. “What are these reasons, your highness?”
“Your sister is attacking us.”
Gingivere tried to sit up, eyes widening. Brek reached out to him, saying, “Please don’t! You’re far too weak, my prince.”
“How? What is she doing?” Gingivere asked hurriedly, though he did not struggle to sit again, and just laid against his pillows. 
Sayna took a deep breath, before saying, “She’s setting our woodlands on fire.”
Both Gingivere and Brek just stared at her in abject horror. Sayna straightened her shoulders, saying, “As we speak, I am sure Mossflower is already responding to this threat. But you were the prince of the Greeneyes. You know that kingdom, and I need a way to stop them. I need a weakness, because no matter how many fires we fight, it does little good if Tsarmina keeps shooting flaming arrows into our trees.”
Gingivere looked at Brek, before asking, “She’s shooting arrows across the Moss? But that river is too wide for any archer to span.”
“I think in places it could be possible.” Sayna folded her paws, staring up into the Prince’s pale green eyes. “Listen. I know my fellow Mossflowerians will do all in our power to drive her away. I’m sure they are fighting as we speak and I will soon join them. But you helped us once, and we saved your life.”
Sayna took a breath, before saying, “If you have any suggestions, any advantages to exploit, now is the time to tell me.”
In her mind, the rush of battle was growing, surging forward like feral horses. She might not be there, but her brother was. Rose was. And she longed to fight beside them.
Gingivere said nothing for a moment, before he nodded. “If she is setting the forests on fire, then she plans to attack and flee. She won’t have brought all that many soldiers, several thousand at best.”
Sayna looked to Torrin, sitting wordlessly at her side. She could see the worry in his eyes, and knew he must be thinking what she was. Several thousand equated the entirety of the Mossflowerian armies combined. 
“Prince.” Sayna folded her paws. “I fear you overestimate our defences.”
He stared at her. “But… you are Mossflower. I read of your numbers, your glory. I know you suffered great losses at the paws of my father, but even still…”
He trailed off. Sayna imagined her stare was piercing. “Your father decimated our courts.”
After a moment, he nodded. “Then set her grasslands aflame. If she can use the tactic, so can you, and grass burns just as hot as trees.”
Beside her, Sayna saw Torrin nod. Then he leaned forward, saying, “We can surround her troops with the fire, if we do it right. If we hurry. That’s a few thousand less to face later.”
Sayna stood. It was a good plan, as good as any they had.
“Whegg is among you, yes?” The Prince asked. “Go to him. He will know the best places to set fires for a strategic advantage. If he is hesitant, tell him I said to.”
“Prince.” Sayna said gravely. “If my understanding is correct, your former captain currently serves me.”
She paused. “I hope to speak with you again, under better circumstances. Know that the fact you have helped me in this, and the times before, will not be forgotten. Thank you.”
Gingivere just stared up at her. Sayna knew she held her head high, that her jaw was set with determination. Perhaps she looked noble, perhaps threatening. She felt neither, just mounting dread that forced her to focus closely on her next move lest her mind wander to the big picture, and she panic.
She gazed at Brek for a moment as he stared at her with wide brown eyes. Then she looked to Torrin. “Come.”
Was she ordering him? But she needed to move, to do things so Bloodwrath wouldn’t start whispering it’s siren’s song of oblivion in her mind. He said nothing about it, just nodded and followed her from the room. Germaine stood outside, and she watched them with concern.
They hadn’t quite reached the door leading out, when Sayna heard the skittering of bare paws behind her. She paused, paw on the oaken door as she turned back to see Brek. “Wait! I can help, I’m…”
Blue magic wrapped around his arms, and Germaine pulled him back, courtesy of telekinesis. “Oh no you don’t, Young Voh. You’re in no condition to be dealing with forest fires or Greeneye soldiers, so don’t even think about it.”
“I’m not a kit!” Brek strained against Germaine, and before Sayna’s shocked gaze, he broke free of her magical bindings in a flash, winking out of existence and flickering back into it again, just several feet away. “I’m a Prophet too now, and I’m going to help.”
Sayna knew her mouth hung open, but found herself unable to do anything about it. Brek was a Prophet? And had he just… teleported?
Even Germaine seemed taken aback for a moment, before she started toward him, wagging a paw. “Now, none of that. I admit that was impressive, but you are still recovering, and…”
“I’m fine!” Blue, sparkling light was swirling around Brek’s paws, up his arms, and turning his normally black pupils to glowing orbs. “I know the Greeneyes as well as anyone; better than most of you!”
He turned those crystal blue pupils to Sayna, the small curls of orange hair around his face beginning to levitate. “Please Sayna. Let me come with you.”
“Uh… I mean… sure?” Sayna stammered, paw still above the door latch, words failing her. Torrin also stared, but with less shock and more excitement. 
“That’s not her decision to make.” Blue spiraled up Germaine’s arms as well. “Your sister may be a princess, queen even, but here I alone reign. Don’t make me drag you to bed, young Voh.”
Brek glared at her for a moment, seeming to think. Then he let the blue magic fade, and his hair fell back into place. 
“Fine.” He grumbled, before stalking into a blue curtained room. Germaine nodded firmly, pleased. Then she turned to Sayna and Torrin.
“Ignasa go with you.”
Sayna stared into the older mouse’s brown eyes, and then nodded firmly. “May he be with us all.”
With that, she shoved open the door leading into the first room of the infirmary. She ran across it, Torrin close behind, and barely looked at Urran, sitting beside Asher’s crib. Sayna bolted out into the hallway, and Torrin shut the infirmary door behind them. They ran down the hall, Torrin outpacing her quickly with his frustratingly long strides.
He suddenly skidded to a halt, and Sayna crashed into his back, falling as there was a flash of light in the hallway in front of them. He caught her arm as she flailed and righted her, but Sayna was more focused on Brek as he flickered into existence in front of them, like the flame of a candle caught in a gust of wind. 
His expression was determined, his eyes glowing blue as magic swirled around him, his curly hair floating off the back of his neck.
The light faded, and he blinked, staring at Sayna and Torrin, then at the surroundings, then at his paws. His voice sounded awed. “I did it.”
A little grin grew on his face, one that made Sayna remember him as a kit. 
“I actually did it!”
He looked up at her. “I’m coming with you.”
Sayna glanced at Torrin, then at the hallway behind them. But Germaine wasn’t rushing from the infirmary, so she must not know. Sayna shrugged. “Ok. But you’re really not dressed for it.”
“I don’t care.”
Sayna stared at her brother, clad in a white nightshirt and white, loose trousers. Then she yanked off her gray coat, tossing it to him. “Put that on. It’s brisk out there.”
He grinned a grin that still looked youthful, obeying as she started speed walking down the hall. Within moments, she was running again. 
Torrin ran on one side of her while Brek dashed on the other, bare paws trailing wisps of blue. 
So he was a Prophet now. 
It was so odd to consider. He’d never been able to keep up with her before, but now he did so with ease. The way to the kitchens seemed to be faster than her run to the infirmary, probably because they ran down staircases instead of up them.
Sayna shoved through the slightly open doors into the kitchen, finding it was empty.
“Wait, where’s the kelpie?”
Torrin shrugged, and called, “Anyone here?”
There was no answer forthcoming. Sayna found it in the form of the doors leading outside. They hung partly open, and she knew she had shut them. Then she recalled how Groddil had run from the infirmary. He must have convinced the kelpie to carry him. 
“Ugh, we have no mount.” She looked at Brek. “Can you teleport us?”
He held up his paws. “I… tonight is the first time I’ve done this. I don’t know how it works yet. I’m a lot better with invisibility.”
“Oh.” Said Sayna. While she had a million questions teaming through her mind, she held them in. Now wasn’t the time. 
Torrin shrugged. “I suppose we could walk. It’s not that terribly far, and maybe we’d meet someone along the way?”
Sayna sighed, then nodded. “It’s the best plan we have.”
She hurried to the doors, pulling them open and running out into the night. She didn’t have to run far. 
A horse galloped into the clearing, followed by a good number of others. The leading horse slid to a stop, and a creature leapt down from its back. It turned back and pulled it’s companion from the horse as others began dismounting and running for Brockhall. Sayna stepped out of the way of the doors, Torrin and Brek doing the same. She noted most of these creatures were old, or kits. As they scrambled into Bella’s hall, Brek cried out from beside her.
“Whegg?”
One creature, a good head taller than the mice around him, stopped and looked at Brek. Then he stepped toward them, a far shorter creature by his side. As the two got closer, Sayna recognized her as the halfblood lady that often served her meals. Rose had enlisted her to help with the feast… her name was Gina, wasn’t it? She held onto Whegg’s arm, and mostly kept her gaze on the ground.
“Brek?” Whegg sounded amazed. “You’re outa bed?”
He just shrugged, and Sayna interrupted the conversation. “What’s going on out there?”
Whegg shook his head, and wrapped his arm around Gina. “It’s madness yer majesty. I ain’t seen the fire yet but I hear it’s gettin’ worse. Yer sister… lady Rose? She’s leading the defence against it. Somethin’ bout flyin’ over it an’ magic an’ I dunno.”
Rose would be riding Luna again. At least she wouldn’t be directly in the fire’s path. “What about Tynek?”
“Your brother is in conference with the three other leaders… since Amber has yet ta show her face.” Whegg said. 
Sayna just nodded, at last saying, “We have a plan, and we need your help.”
Whegg blinked, and then said, “Yes, milady.”
“We need to kill these soldiers. They’re gathered near the Moss’s edge, we plan to set fire around them. You know them, what formations might they be using and how many should we expect?”
As she spoke, Sayna noticed Gina wrap her arms around Whegg, and he tightened his grip on her in response. Then he nodded again. “Many things’ve changed ‘round the Greeneye kingdom since I was there, but I’ll do me best ta aid ya. I just need a look at what’s goin’ on. Should be easy ta assess once I see it.”
Sayna drew in a deep breath. She kept forgetting to breathe. “Then we will get you there. We need mounts, and I…”
“Sayna!” 
She stumbled back as a force nearly knocked her off her paws. Dancer pulled Sayna against her chest with her chin, stumbling over her words. “I’m sorry… I should have been there, I just… I went for a nice walk with Wildfire and then there was a fire and I couldn’t find you and I traced you back here with what the other horse’s said…”
Sayna patted Dancer’s shoulder. “It’s fine, It’s fine. But I’m glad you’re here now, I need you.”
Dancer nodded, letting her go to do so. Sayna turned back to Whegg and the others, noting a few other horses had gathered around them, but many of the original company seemed to have left, probably hurrying off to gather more of the young and elderly.
Dancer knelt without question, and Sayna swung onto her back, feeling her shoulder protest. She held in her wince. She should probably ask Germaine about that shoulder, but for now it would have to wait. 
Sayna looked to the others in time to see Whegg pick the much shorter Gina clean off the ground and kiss her. She held onto him for a moment afterwards, and he ran his claws through her hair. Then he set her down and touched her cheek with a single paw. “I’ll come back Honey. I swear it, nothin’ could stop me, not now.”
She nodded as he reached for the mane of the horse he’d been riding and vaulted onto its back. Torrin now sat on the third horse still in the clearing, and that left Brek with no mount. Sayna held out her paw for him, saying, “Come on.”
He eagerly clasped her paw and she pulled him onto Dancer’s back with ease. Dancer trotted toward the road to the festival as Sayna called, “Let’s go!”
The world sped up as Dancer launched into a gallop, and Brek wrapped his thin arms around Sayna’s waist. She couldn’t let herself really consider it, how the brother she thought was dead for nearly six years was riding behind her. 
They burst into the festival grounds not too long after, ones that looked quite less festive with almost all the patrons gone and market tents laying collapsed in the chaos. Tynek, Bella, Warthorn, and Argulor still stood on the dancefloor, holding their conference there. Indigo and some of the rabbits congregated nearby.
Dancer crashed through trampled underbrush, sliding to a stop near the council and lifting off the ground in a half rear. The four stared at her, and Sayna sucked in a breath, saying loudly, “We have a plan.”
Bella looked relieved, and the others expectant. Sayna tightened her grip on Dancer’s mane, lifting her chin. “If they can set our trees on fire, we can set her grass on fire. If we hurry, we might be able to surround her troops in it before they retreat.”
From nearby, Torrin said, “It’d be several thousand less to deal with later.”
“Brilliant!” Argulor was the one who said it. “And I’ll light the fire!”
He leapt from the ground, flapping, ready to take off, but Bella grabbed one of his talons, pulling him back to earth. “Wait.”
Whegg spoke up. “If we’re ta do this, we’ve gotta move quickly. The only way ta actually surround them is ta light the fire from two directions at once. An’ we’ll need a good distraction ta keep ‘em confused and stationary.”
Brek spoke quickly. “I can make myself invisible, but I don’t have my sword.”
There was a long moment of silence, before Whegg asked, “Can ya make me invisible kit?”
“I think so.” Brek nodded.
Sayna frowned. She wasn’t sure she liked where this was going.
Whegg looked at her. “I’ll need a spear.”
“Uh.” Sayna began, but Indigo had walked over, and there was a flash of metal in lamplight as she tossed something to Whegg, which he snatched from the air. It was a spear, long and bearing a head on each end.
“Aye.” Whegg nodded to her. “This’ll do. Kit?”
Before Sayna could say a word, her brother hopped off Dancer and scurried to Whegg, who pulled him onto his horse. “I think the two of us’ll make a purty good ghost.”
Sayna shook her head. She wanted to protest this, but Bella stepped up. “While you kill their soldiers, would you like the aid of the Moss?”
Warthorn nodded. “And the guardian’s of it?”
“I’ll take all the help I can get.” Whegg clenched his spear. 
Sayna took a deep breath. She wished Brek had just stayed behind now. When she’d said he could come, she’d not been imagining him engaging enemy lines, visible or otherwise. But this new Brek, his eyes bore a fierceness she knew well, and she supposed nothing she said would stop him.
She inhaled, and said, “I’ll light the other fire. Argulor starts on one side, I’ll do the other.”
“I’m coming with you.” Torrin and Indigo said it in the same moment. 
Sayna noticed most of the rabbits were mounting. Tynek just stood there, paw on his sword hilt, looking around in confusion. Then he just asked, “What about me?”
Was it odd to feel bad that he was being left out of this?
“Milord,” Whegg said. “You’d make a fine distraction if ya wanted. Ghosts an’ gold mice… that’ll cause mass panic.”
Tynek nodded firmly. 
There weren’t enough horses to carry everyone, so Sayna found Torrin sitting behind her again, having let the horse that he’d been riding take Bella. There was no real time to talk or discuss anything more however, because within mere minutes, Sayna found herself riding down a road that led to the Moss. Within moments, Dancer’s speed distanced her from the horses around her, and she pulled out in front.
Sayna leaned forward, feeling her hair whip back over her shoulders. She probably should cut it again, she realized. It was getting long and falling in her eyes. 
Now is not the time to consider your hair.
The voice in her head had a good point. Wait. The voice in her head hadn’t called her in idiot.
Come to think of it, her internal self had been rather… nice lately. Was something wrong with her? No! No, this wasn’t a time to think about herself. Now was a time to think about Mossflower. 
The dark woodlands rushed by, and a burst of light filled Sayna’s vision as Argulor swooped over their heads, taking the lead and actually lighting the way. In the dark, whether reflective or otherwise, his feathers truly glowed.
But soon, his feathers were not the only thing that glowed.
Sayna could smell the fire even before she saw its glow. It permeated the trees, filling a night that should have held only cool, plant scented air. Instead the air was warm, and smelled of smoke. 
She saw the light soon after. Through the endless trees throbbed a brilliant red-orange, making the forests around seem stark black.
Warthorn cursed, and yelled, “Faster, we have to reach the Moss!”
The Moss, they would be safe there, in the great river. Come to think of it, how had Tsarmina spanned the Moss with mere archers?
Dancer, wonderful creature that she was, somehow managed to lengthen her strides and run even faster. Her hooves moved in a cadence faster than that of any gallop, and she flew at the group’s head. 
Sayna could hear the fire now, a whooshing, crackling roar. She tried to keep breathing, tried not to remember laying on the floor of a castle, unable to move as she lay in her own blood while flames danced up the wood of the walls around her. Her lungs filled with smoke as they had then, and she clenched her paws around Dancer’s mane, clenching her eyes shut as they began to sting.
No! This wasn’t Marshank! This wouldn’t end like Marshank!
Arms wrapped around her waist, and Torrin spoke. “Please breathe. It will be alright, somehow.”
She forced in the smoky air, though her stomach and mind rebelled against it. Gruvan’s presence had always brought her more anxiety when he got involved in these things, but somehow, Torrin had the opposite effect. Why? How could that be? Was she just smarter now?
Smoke rolled across the roadway in drifting waves, and the fire was closer here. Sayna could see it clearly, a raging inferno that consumed whatever it touched. She had burnt down castles, yes. But this. This was something entirely different. It was on a scale so large, it made the destruction Sayna had wrought feel like nothing. This was the definition of uncontainable power.
“What I wouldn’t give to have my father here now!” Bella yelled from close behind Sayna. 
Sayna just focused on the road ahead. As they galloped toward the river, the fire grew closer to the path, burning trees some forty yards away. Sparks filled the air, dancing on the once pleasant evening breeze. Now it was merely a harbinger of death for them all.
Everytime I choose to love something.
Sayna felt the ache deep in her chest, a tightness that wouldn’t fade.
This is how it ends.
“Sayna?” Torrin gently shook her, and she took a shaking breath.
“I’m… alright.”
She lifted her gaze to the road ahead as a plume of flame leapt across it, but none of the horses even slowed. 
It is not over yet.
Dancer crested a ridge, and Sayna saw the Moss, gleaming red in the reflected firelight on the hills above it. Dancer dashed down the flaming hillside, regardless of the incline. The road ended a few feet above the river itself, but Dancer leapt into the water without so much as a pause.
The river was cool shock against Sayna’s legs, and she realized how warm the air had gotten. Dancer stagger deeper into the blessed water, coughing a little. Then she turned. Sayna did too.
The hills on Mossflower’s side of the river were high here, some places ending in sheer, eroded rock. But atop them, the trees were engulfed in flame and the sky clouded with red and orange smoke. There was a haze over everything. 
Water sprayed over Sayna as other horses from her party crashed into the river, charging for safety as the road behind them filled with fire. Not that she was complaining. Even without her coat, the liquid was welcome in the face of the searing heat.
The moment Bella’s horse hit the water, the lady leapt off it, landing on the water’s surface and standing there as though it were solid. 
Sayna looked around, making certain everyone was accounted for. Tynek, Indigo, Whegg and Brek, Warthorn, and Indigo’s rabbits… Argulor swooped overhead, flying in loops around them. Sayna felt a fraction of her tension bleed away. 
Whegg pointed to the far side of the Moss, up the bank a short ways. “Look, there!”
Everyone did, Sayna included. On the Greeneye side of the Moss, lit by the fires ravaging Mossflower, she could see Tsarmina’s army. They spread along banks covered by trees that seemed shrubs in the face of Mossflower’s giants, giants that crackled and fell in a symphony of death.
From the small look she got, Sayna didn’t see archers.
“Ach, I’ll fly to the far side of their lines, lads and lassies!” Argulor called.
“Argulor!” Bella cupped her paws around her mouth to be heard above the inferno. “Wait for them to start panicking, that’ll mean we’ve attacked! Then start your fire.”
He looped once in the air, calling, “Aye!” 
Then he streaked off through a sky the color of his feathers. Within moments, Sayna could not tell the phoenix from the fires around them.
“Sayna!” 
She jumped as Bella pointed to the Greeneyes shore. “Take Torrin and Indigo, and be ready to light the grasslands aflame when we attack. Don’t stop until you meet Argulor in the middle, understand?”
“Yeah!” Sayna yelled back, while Dancer half reared in response.
Bella held out her paw, a sword of water from the Moss forming in it. “Warthorn, Whegg, Tynek! You’re with me. You too, kit.”
That was directed toward Brek. 
Dancer started moving deeper into the Moss, striking out for the Greeneye bank, but Sayna locked eyes with Brek for a second before he and Whegg’s mount swam after Bella. He wore her coat still, and his eyes glowed with resolute surety. 
“Please Ignasa.” Sayna wordlessly prayed as they parted ways. “Let me see him again. Let me see them all again.”
“Hey.” Torrin reached down and gripped her paw. “Focus on the path ahead, alright?”
She nodded, and returned the gesture. Then she leaned over Dancer’s mane as she swam, letting her paws dangle in the wonderfully cool water. A good few minutes later, Dancer walked onto the bank opposite Mossflower’s, water streaming from her sides in sheets. Indigo was right behind them, several of her rabbits trailing.
Once on the shore free of smoke and fire, Dancer put her head down and breathed heavily. The other horses did the same. Sayna patted her friend’s neck, rubbing below the base of the mane, where Dancer liked.
“Will you be able to do this? Run all the way around the army and then back to the Moss?”
Dancer straightened up. “I’ll have to.”
Sayna couldn’t rightly argue that point. She turned to Indigo, asking, “So how will we light…”
She broke off when she noticed the rabbit held an unlit torch. Sayna stared, and Indigo cocked an ear to the side. “What?”
“Nothing, just… how do you always have everything we need with you?” Sayna stammered.
“Oh this?” Indigo pointed to the torch. “Well I snatched it up while you all were discussing the plan. You were talking about fires and I figured we’d need something…”
Sayna gasped as Torrin suddenly shoved her flat against Dancer’s mane, practically laying on her. Indigo’s horse reared, screaming at the arrow buried in its shoulder, near the base of its neck. 
Dancer danced back as one of the other rabbits cursed, and the sound of steel being drawn filled the relative silence.
Indigo fell to the ground as Sayna growled, “Torrin, let me go!”
He did, and she turned toward the army, expecting to see them all bearing down upon them, expecting this to be over in seconds. However she saw only a few figures running at them, twenty at best. Scouts or lookouts? Probably.
Torrin vaulted from Dancer’s back, drawing his sword. Indigo charged, drawing her twin blades at once and engaging their attackers with a storm of steel. Dancer reared, galloping at the one mounted creature among the offenders, lowering her head. The Greeneye soldier tried to turn his horse away, but that only gave Dancer a better target as she ran her horn through the feral’s neck.
It floundered, throwing it’s rider, and Sayna threw herself from Dancer’s back, drawing her blade as she fell at the fallen soldier. He’d lost his sword in the fall, and raised gauntlets up to protect his chest and face.
They did him no good.
The Queensword sliced through his arms and throat like a sheers cutting cloth. His armor offered no resistance. 
Sayna stumbled a little on his corpse, and regained her balance as four soldiers ran at her at once, from all directions. How had one gotten behind her? She ducked down, acutely aware of her thin tunic and unarmored core. She swung the Queensword in a wide arch, cutting one soldier clean in two, and beheading the shorter rat near him. Both fell, and Sayna only just managed to throw herself away from the flashing blades of the other two.
She tumbled to unrelenting ground, far harder when she wore nothing to protect her. She heard the pop in her left shoulder, and what had been only a dull ache sharpened to stabbing pain.
Sayna spun onto her back, dragging herself away as the two soldiers ran at her. She whimpered at the crippling pain in her arm gasping, “Ignasa, please!”
Was this how it ended?
But the two skidded to a halt a few feet from her, staring. She took that chance, and pain or no, Sayna forced herself up, leaping to her paws and slashing the Queensword through her would be attackers. They fell in silence, collapsing with still wide eyes.
Their bodies burned. Around the cuts, their flesh seared, their armor melted in the face of the blue flames that licked at them. Sayna stared. Where had that…
The clank of armor behind her gave warning, and Sayna spun, her blade leading the way. 
Her glowing blue blade that flickered with cyan flames.
Sayna gasped, barely noticing when the Queensword sliced through the soldier’s pike and chestplate. She heard him clank to the ground in a smoldering heap. But she just gaped at her sword like a fool, unable to think. What? How? What was happening?
The blue fire was mesmerizing, dancing like the flames in a fireplace, almost… merry? Yet still completely destructive.
“Whoa.”
Sayna heard Torrin’s awed voice as he walked over, sword dripping, blood splattered on his tunic. He pointed at her weapon. “Since when has it done that?”
“I…” Sayna stammered. “I…”
“That’s downright amazing!” Indigo bounded up, also bloodied.
Dancer trotted over too, eyes wide. “What did you do?”
“I… nothing!” Sayna shook her head. “I didn’t do anything, I swear! I just… asked Ignasa for help, I think.”
At the mention of Ignasa’s name, the flames leapt, as though for joy. But they spiraled over Sayna’s paws, and though she felt no warmth or pain, she yelped and dropped the sword.
As soon as her paw left the hilt, the flames dwindled. They faded within a mere three counts, leaving the blade its normal snowy white.
“Are you secretly a Prophet?” Torrin asked, not quite joking.
Sayna stared at the sword in the grass. “I… no… I couldn’t be.”
Or could I?
The voice in her head whispered. I did come to some understanding with Ignasa. I did choose to serve him, I think.
Was this the result?
She glanced around, finding everyone was staring at her, even the injured horse and the rabbit tending to it. She winced, saying, “Um… maybe you should… focus on that?”
 
She indicated the bleeding horse.
The rabbit started, then nodded and started working again. Sayna closed her eyes, breathing deeply as she felt the blocks of reality shift beneath her paws yet again. “Ignasa… what should I do?”
A voice came to her mind, a new voice. It wasn’t like she’d imagined Ignasa would sound, deep and imperious. It was soft, almost a breath of wind. She still jumped.
“Pick up your sword, daughter.”
Sayna looked around, knowing that wasn’t her, and it wasn’t anyone around her.
Slowly, she picked up the weapon. The instant her paw closed over the hilt, blue fire sprang along it, dancing in invisible wind. 
There was silence for a moment, and in it, cries of alarm rang out, from the Greeneye army. Sayna jerked her head up, gasping, “That’s the signal!”
“I broke the torch!” Indigo blurted, worry in her tone. “When I fell I landed on it and…”
“It’s alright.” Sayna was surprised by the level of certainty in her voice, and the level of calm in her own mind. She held up the flaming sword. “I have a torch.”
She turned as Dancer trotted to her side, then vaulted onto her freind’s back as she knelt. Sayna turned to Torrin. “Come with me.”
Heavens above I’m doing it again! Why am I giving him orders? But I need his help.
Her mother had taught her something about how to ask nicely, but she’d forgotten a lot of it. 
He didn’t protest and leapt up on Dancer behind her.
“Milady?” Indigo asked, gaze flitting to her wounded mount, then back to Sayna. “What are you planning, I’m not letting you go alone…”
“I’m not alone.”
Why did she feel so calm, so sure in that knowledge. What was happening to her? There wasn’t time to consider it. The cries from the Greeneyes were only getting louder, some were running and… were some fighting each other?
“Torrin?” Sayna wanted to get going, but forced herself to ask instead of order. “Please hold onto me. And Dancer.”
He wrapped an arm around her, and asked, “Alright… er, why?”
“Cause this.”
Sayna swallowed and let herself fall, let herself slide down Dancer’s side until his arm stopped her and she could plunge her glowing blade it the grasses that grew to a mouse’s neck. “Dancer, run!”
She did. Sayna vaguely heard Indigo’s yell of protest as they thundered deeper into Greeneye land.
Far louder was the crackle of flames growing from her sword, catching on the dry grasses in seconds. As they did, they turned from blue to angry red, and licked at the prairie with an unstoppable hunger.
Sayna gripped Dancer’s mane with her free paw, feeling the heat of the flames she was setting on her back. The sword’s fire might not burn her, the growing inferno she set undoubtedly would. 
“Oh Ignasa.” She gasped as she heard the frantic chaos of the Greeneye troops they ringed with fire.
Torrin tightened his grip on her. “He is with us.”
She turned her head, enough to stare up at him. It was on odd vantage point she had, hanging off Dancer’s side, dangling over a fall that would leave her to burn. The best she could do was nod.
><><
Whegg stared at the water below the horse he and Brek rode, because the creature ran on it. They didn’t swim, they ran on the water. On it. As though it were solid like ice, just not slick. That was Bella’s doing, of course.
It was still unbelievable. Yes, he knew she wielded magic, but this? This was another level entirely from levitating her teapot. But then, from how she’d been talking, Whegg felt he was likely to see wonders greater than this.
The crackling roar above him forced him to tear his gaze from the glowing water below to the burning sky above. It was cooler here in the Moss’s ravine than their flight through the forest, but the air still shimmered with heat like on a sweltering summer’s day.
Whegg’s every breath brought the taste of smoke to his tongue, and in front of him, Brek wheezed. What was that little fool thinking, getting out of bed so quickly? From all Gina had said, he’d lain at death’s door for weeks.
“Kit!” Whegg called to him above the roar of the fire at the top of the Moss’s cliffs. “Ya really think ya can turn me invisible? Are ya feelin’ alright?”
“I’m fine.” Was all Brek said, between gasps. Whegg supposed he shouldn’t have expected anything less from him. 
He doubted it was true, but really, what choice did he have? Whether the kit was actually fit to do this or not, Whegg needed him. Honestly, Whegg probably wouldn’t survive without him, with what he was planning.
And he had to survive.
He could still feel Gina’s paws on his cheeks and her muzzle against his as she kissed him. He could still see the joy in her eyes when he’d finally asked, and how she’d flung herself into his arms. She’d said she would without a moment’s hesitation, and Whegg glowered at the fire above him, tightening his grip on Indigo’s spear. This was not the way he’d wanted his proposal to go.
He would make good on his promise to her.
Whegg turned his attention to the Greeneye side of the Moss, where he could see the soldiers of the kingdom he’d once called home. How many had he served beside, once?
So much had changed, and Whegg found true irony in what he was doing. 
Once he had feared these woods and waters for their tales of ghosts.
Now he would be one.
“Here!” He called to Bella. “We should be right in front’a their center. That’s where the captains’ll be, they’re expectin’ an attack from the sides.”
Bella stopped running, and Whegg could feel the heat of the fire at his back now that the air wasn’t rushing past. He glared at the shadowed shapes of Tsarmina’s armies, hidden in the thin stand of trees on the Greeneye bank. His next words rang with grim surety. “I’m gonna kill their captain. Without a leader, they’ll panic.”
He looked down at Brek, riding in front of him. “Kit?”
Brek nodded. He closed his eyes, lifting his head as he folded his paws. Magic sparkled around Brek’s arms and Whegg just stared. To think that all this time, the kit was actually a Prophet. Or maybe this was new. 
“Young one.” Bella said from beside them. “Try telling the magic what you want it to do in it’s language. It works best when it knows your full intent.”
Brek blinked at her. “I… don’t know its language.’
She looked frustrated, though Whegg got the feeling it was directed more at herself and less at Brek. “Of course. Use the common tongue then.”
Brek looked at her a moment longer, then glanced at Whegg. Then he took a deep breath and said, “Please make Whegg and I invisible.”
There was a flash of blue, and Whegg glanced down at his paw that held his spear. It was gone. The spear was too, though he could feel it grasped firmly in his claws. Brek wasn’t there either, but the horse remained.
“You forgot your mount.” Bella said. 
“That’s alright.” Whegg said. “It might be better if we don’t ride there.”
He patted the horse’s neck, then slipped off onto the solid water. He honestly did expect to fall through it, but in supported his weight just like dirt would. There was a thud, and Whegg felt Brek brush against him. 
Bella held out a paw, pointing across the river and saying, “Lig dóibh pas a fháil.”
Whegg saw no change, but she said, “Run straight ahead. The water will be solid.”
Whegg nodded, and then realized he was invisible. “Thank ya, milady.”
He reached out, found Brek’s arm, and grabbed it. “With me.”
Brek didn’t protest, and they ran together, across a solid river, under a burning sky. The thin stand of trees on the Greeneye banks towered over them, black in the light of the fire. But Whegg noted that fire was growing dimmer. He hoped it was thanks to the efforts of Lady Rose, and not because it had simply burned what it could in this area, while it swept in a destructive wake deeper into Mossflower.
He did fear that was the case.
She will be safe.
Whegg kept telling himself that. Gina was in Brockhall. That place was the definition of fireproof, with the gravity defying water and magic. 
“Whegg?” Brek’s voice hissed from the emptiness beside him, and a paw pulled back on his arm, slowing his run.
Oh. Right, they were here. The bank stood a few feet above Whegg’s head, and he could hear the low murmur of voices. He looked to Brek… well, he looked where Brek should be, and asked, “Ya ready?”
“Yeah.”
Whegg took a deep breath. “I’m going to charge for the center. Just keep me invisible.”
“Right.” Brek’s disembodied voice said.
Whegg waited no longer. He clenched his spear in his teeth since he wore no sheath for it, and began to climb the bank. Come to think of it, he had no armor either. Hellgates.
Behind him, he could hear subtle scraping, and knew Brek was following. Whegg dragged himself atop the bank, and looked to where the army gathered, ten or so feet away. They didn’t so much as look his direction. In the diming light of the fire, Whegg could see wooden constructs like massive crossbows. His heart sank. Ballistas. Of course. That was how they spanned the river with arrows.
A gentle paw touched his arm, accompanied by Brek’s whisper of, “I’m here.”
Whegg stood, letting the spear fall from his mouth and drop into his paw. It was good to hold one again. Swords were alright, but a spear? A spear was purely an extension of himself.
Whegg crouched slightly, before bolting forward. There were several soldiers around the nearest ballista, probably its operators. Whegg sliced one’s throat with a wide cut, spinning and doing the same to the creature’s companions just as their eyes began to widen in shock. They would remain like that forever.
Whegg ran past as they fell, breathing in deeply as he rushed the bulk of the army. He cut down a good six of them before creatures began noticing in full. As their fellows fell, gored and slashed with an invisible blade, soldiers leapt away with cries of alarm.
They fell into each other, tripping, shoving, and cursing. Whegg spared none in his path. A clash of steel made him duck, only to realize it wasn’t an attack on him. Behind him, two soldiers had drawn weapons on each other, one screaming about how the other was insane and a murderer. More followed suit. 
Whegg spared himself no more time to watch and ran, killing all that he could as the army around him turned to a bloody battlefield. 
That hadn’t been his intent, but he didn’t plan to correct the poor fools’ mistake.
The captain. Where was the captain?
Up ahead, Whegg saw a two soldiers in more decorated armor, the captain and a sargent, most likely. They were backing away from the building madness, several common soldiers appearing to guard them. 
Whegg cut down the first two, and the one he assumed to be sargent screamed, a sound that morphed to a gurgle as Whegg’s spear found his throat. The captain ran.
He turned and shoved through the ranks of his soldiers, and Whegg gave chase. Soldiers stumbled into him, and he slew several more before he burst out the back of the army, seconds behind the fleeing captain. Now free of the mass of soldiers, the creature ran faster, but he was burdened by armor.
Whegg wasn’t.
He threw himself at the captain, shoving a shoulder into the creature’s armored back. He tumbled to the ground, helmet flying from his head as he fell during a dead sprint.
Whegg saw terror glint in gray eyes as he rushed forward, slamming a boot onto the captain’s sword so he couldn’t raise it. Blue light swirled around Whegg, and he suddenly saw his boot, and the other one as he slammed it down on the captain’s throat. He raised his spear, preparing to slam the blade through this ferret’s right eye… but then he actually saw the horrified creature on the ground beneath him.
“Duane?” Whegg blurted.
His old comrade in arms? But Cludd should be the one going on these sorts of destructive errands.
Duane gaped at him as utter chaos claimed the Greeneye troops. Then he gasped in a strangled voice, “Wh… Whegg? But ya was… yer dead!”
Whegg bared his teeth. “I came ta kill Tsarmina’s captain. What’re ya doin’ as her captain?”
“Captain?” 
Somehow, even with a boot on his throat and a spear ready to stab into his brain, Duane managed to sound slightly offended. “I’m her General!”
Whegg stared, then curled his lip. “Ya ain’t good at pleadin’ fer yer life, is ya Duane?”
He raised the spear, but Duane shook his head. “I’m stagin’ a cue! C’mon Whegg, what’da ya take me fer?”
Whegg thought of the terror in Gina’s eyes when she’d heard of the fire, thought of the thousands that might die for this. He bared his fangs. “Some idiot who lit me forest ablaze!”
“Hey it’s just me job…” Duane protested, then paused. “Yer forest?”
Light flared in Whegg’s vision, out on the grasslands. Argulor and the high queen did their jobs well, Whegg could see the fire spring up in two flaring sheets, sweeping toward each other and ringing the Greeneye army. 
He glared down at Duane, Tsarmina’s general.
“Whegg, mate, I’ve done ya favors. Please!” 
Whegg gritted his teeth as Greeneyes soldiers fled, slew one another, or just ran aimlessly. None paid him any mind, and though he was no longer invisible, he might as well have been. 
Wait. Since he was visible again, what had happened to Brek?
A chill slithered down his spine. Over half the Greeneye army lay dead or dying around him. What might have happened to a fragile, weaponless mouse kit?
He stepped off Duane’s throat, but kept the spear trained on him. “On yer paws Duane. If ya try running again, I will kill ya.”
Duane swallowed and obeyed, rubbing his neck.
“Move! Toward the river!”
The fire around them was growing, leaping for the sky in plumes and sweeping through the grasses like a sickle at harvest. Duane didn’t protest. Whegg kept his spear pressed against the base of the ferret’s skull, but he was looking for Brek. 
He searched the fallen, dreading what he might find. Whegg saw Brek at last, in the light of the rising fire. He lay face down on the ground, orange hair a blessed identifier. Whegg ran to him, leaving Duane for the moment.
He picked Brek off the bloodstained grass, heaving a sigh of relief when the kit coughed, and blinked at him.
“You… did it?”
His voice was weak. He should never have left the infirmary. Whegg stood, keeping a tight hold on Brek. Then he wheeled to face Duane, who held up both paws. “Wasn’t me, I had nothin’ to do with hurtin’ him, ya was pinnin’ me after all.”
“Oh shut it Duane.” Whegg snapped. “Jump in the river.”
Duane looked confused, then horrified at that prospect. “Ya… don’t mean that… the ghosts…”
“I am a ghost!” Whegg held Brek close as the screams of the dying surrounded them, ones that were snuffed out as the fire on the grasslands raged toward them in a wall of sweltering heat. Whegg could feel the sweat dripping from his ears. He pointed at the wave of fire with his spear. “And that is your only other option! Which would you rather take, possible death from Mossflower or certain death from that?”
Duane hesitated. He actually hesitated.
Whegg snarled and dove for him. Duane jumped back several steps before Whegg tackled him, dropping his spear. He held tight to Brek as he plowed into Duane, teetering on the Moss’s banks.
They toppled into empty space, and Duane shrieked, before Whegg’s reality turned to the coolness of water. Brek didn’t resist, Whegg didn’t even know if the kit was still conscious as he held him in one arm and struck out for the fiery surface that suddenly seemed very far away. 
The kit wasn’t heavy, but holding him was awkward, and Whegg wasn’t the best swimmer to exist. He struggled onward, realizing he hadn’t even taken a good breath when he jumped.
But the thought of letting Brek sink alone into those dark depths appalled him.
The water moved around him, glowing blue as it lifted him from his fate. Whegg gasped as his head broke the surface, coughing as he was set on something solid. Water, he realized in seconds. Solid water.
Silken blue fabric filled his vision, and he slowly dragged himself upright to gaze at Bella, towering over him. 
She levitated off the water slightly, paws held out. Her hair flowed around her face, framing glowing eyes. Her slippered paws pointed straight down, the tips of them just dipping into the water and creating ripples of pure blue light.
Whegg coughed a little more, looking down at Brek, laying beneath him. The kit’s hair was sodden and his eyes closed, but he breathed evenly, features alight in Bella’s magic.
A thrashing to his left made him turn, and Whegg was in time to see a floundering Duane be grabbed by two otters. He screamed like a kit.
Whegg stood as one of the otters shoved Duane beneath the water and held him there.
“Wait! That’s the General a the Greeneyes!”
The otter gazed up at him with stony eyes, saying, “All the more reason to kill him now.”
Whegg groaned, saying, “No, I captured him for information. Yer gonna ruin that if ya don’t let us interrogate him first.” 
The otters looked at each other, and then the one let Duane resurface. The ferret gasped and choked, spitting out water along with hoarse coughing. Whegg felt a pang of regret. Why had Duane gotten the cursed position, why not someone he didn’t like, or didn’t know?
He turned to face the Greeneye side of the Moss, now almost entirely engulfed in flames. Among them, figures of glowing blue fought the remaining soldiers, ones that wavered when hit, only to reform seconds later. Whegg slowly looked back at Bella. She positively glowed. So this was what the stories meant when they said she raised the Moss. He’d always imagined a giant tidal wave, but no, she’d formed water armies to fight for her.
Whegg was glad to be standing by her side, in her protection, rather than be facing her wrath.
Flames engulfed the bank completely and Bella let her water soldiers collapse, flowing back toward the river. She slowly lowered to stand firmly on the water’s surface, and her hair floated down until it lay against her back, obeying gravity again.
Her eyes faded to a soft brown, though the pupils remained glowing blue. 
Whegg gulped, reaching down and scooping up an unconscious Brek as she looked around, blinking. Then she noticed him, and what he held. 
“Is he alright, Whegg?”
Whegg nodded, shakily. “I think so.”
Bella looked to the blazing shore, all traces of the army that had once been, burnt away. Her hair flowed around her, hair that Whegg could imagine was a little more white than before. Then she turned to look at Mossflower, a forest of blackened, leafless sticks that still glowed red from the fire further within their depths. “They need me. Come, Whegg.”
Her voice was ethereal, and completely calm. Gone were the threads of exhaustion that always seemed to run through her tone.
Whegg followed her back toward Mossflower, asking, “Can’t ya make rain ta help put that out?”
She paused, looking at him. He shrank down a bit, wincing, “Ya know. Cause like… ya an’ water. It’s kind of yer thing, right?”
“I am of the water.” She said. “I am not a Prophet of storm.”
Bella seemed to be thinking, and then she smiled at Whegg, true happiness in her eyes. “But you have given me an idea, Whegg.”
“Er… good, then?”
“Yes.” She said. “Very good.”
She looked up, far up the sheer cliff to the ruins of Mossflower, breeze whipping at her hair. Then she crouched down slightly, calling, “Teacht chugam!”
Bella launched into the air, water of the Moss spiraling about her in gleaming swirls. When it left the river to obey her, it filled with light. It bore her upward as she spread her paws out, saying, “Do you remember? Once you flew, once you were rain. Be rain again, fly to the aid of Mossflower!”
She thrust out a paw, crying, “Cneasaigh!”
And the river listened. It rumbled beneath Whegg’s paws, and he toppled to his hindquarters as water rose in streams around him, flying from the Moss and jetting off towards the glowing red fire. Like snakes of light, the river itself arose, many leaping around Bella as she floated there, skirt flowing about her legs as though it were water itself. Her eyes were solid blue again, from their whites to their pupils.
Whegg realized with a start that this must be Bella’s Prophet’s Soul.
The water rushed off, spiraling through the air, and leaving the Moss down an inch or two. As the last of the glowing river flew to do Bella’s bidding, Whegg saw her eyes flicker from blue to their normal brown.
She remained airborn a second longer, before her eyes closed and she plumited down, crashing into the river and vanishing beneath its surface with a splash larger than Whegg was tall. 
The river’s solid state failed a second later, and Whegg toppled into water that closed over his head again. It was far easier to reach the surface when he wasn’t feet below it, and Whegg burst up through the water, lifting Brek’s head into the air. Arms wrapped around him moments later, and he relaxed as an otter began towing him toward the shore. 
Then he stiffened. “Lady Bella!”
He couldn’t see her anywhere. 
“Lord Warthorn’s gone after her.” The otter said. “It will be alright.”
Whegg didn’t breathe his sigh of relief until Warthorn surfaced, one of Bella’s arms over his right shoulder and her chin resting on his left one. Though she was larger than the otterking, he swam with ease that defied it. 
Several minutes later, Whegg found his boots touched the silty riverbed, and soon he was walking up it onto a sandbar that had collected in the shadow of the cliffs. Brek’s head leaned against his chest, and the kit’s paw dangled at his side, but he still drew breath. “Ya crazy little mouse.”
Whegg brushed the matted hair from Brek’s eyes, true sincerity in his voice even if the kit couldn’t hear him. “Thank ya.”
“Thank you.”
Bella’s now hoarse voice came from behind him, and he turned to see Warthorn dragging her up onto the sandbar with effort. “You saved me, Warthorn.”
“I couldn’t rightly let you die.” The otter grunted. “You are high judge of Mossflower. But Lands Beyond, what have you been eating?”
“Warthorn.” Bella said blearily. “Try living as long as me and dealing with as much nonsense as I do. It comes with Amber and a lack of sleep.”
She yawned at this, before slumping fully against him, causing him to stagger.
Warthorn gritted his teeth as he pulled Bella onto the bank and laid her there. Her hair spilled out around her unconscious form, and Whegg was certain it was at least a shade or two lighter than it had once been. 
“Whegg?” Warthorn asked. “Glyn?”
He indicated the otter who had helped Whegg ashore. “Take two kelpies and see if you can get to Germaine in Brockhall. We’ll need assistance to get Bella home. And she’ll be needing a lot of rest after what she’s done.”
There was a splashing as two otters dragged Duane ashore, and Warthorn curled his lip. “And what is that supposed to be?”
“Er, he’s me prisoner, milord.” Whegg stepped in.
“Oh is he?” 
Whegg nodded. “He’s the General a the Greeneyes. I thought he might have useful information.”
Warthorn said nothing for a moment, then waved a paw at Duane’s guards. “Very well. Take him back to the holt for safe keeping until we have time to deal with him.”
They nodded, and dragged Duane back into the Moss and below the surface, despite his wail. Whegg winced, recalling his unpleasant first journey with the otters. 
A paw patted his shoulder, and he looked up at the otter named Glyn. “Come. The kelpies are this way.”
Whegg nodded, and followed Glyn through some shallow water toward where several of the reptilian horses stood, their tails dragging like weeds in the river. He kept ahold of Brek as he mounted, the kelpie being kind enough to drop down on one knee for him. As the creature stood again, Whegg looked to the fire on the grasslands. “Do ya think the queen’ll be alright? Ya know, lady Sayna?”
Glyn gazed where Whegg looked for a moment, then shook his head. “Lord Argulor hasn’t returned. He must be with them. Come on, Lord Warthorn gave us an order.”
Whegg relented at that. Glyn led the way up the steep bank, and Whegg looked back to Warthorn. The otterking sat beside Bella on the sandbar, staring off at the burning prairie. He laid his harpoon across his lap, a silent sentinel in the darkness.
The kelpies made their way into a changed Mossflower woods. 
Gone was the coating of thick green moss on tree trunks, the best Whegg could see were some patches of scorched, slightly lumpy material on mostly burnt bark. However most of the trees that still stood were completely blackened, and some still burned.
The ground was black, all the underbrush having burnt away. The kelpies stepped with caution, leave a trail of sooty hoofprints. 
Many of the trees had collapsed in on themselves, making the ride a difficult one. The road was unusable, it was blocked in so many places. The kelpies had to carefully pick their way through the ravished woodlands, and avoid the fires that sometimes still smoldered within larger trees, fallen or otherwise.
Whegg shook sweat out of his ears and wiped it from his nose as they progressed. Glyn looked worse off, but then, his tail wasn’t bare. His fur was thicker too. The air here was still far too warm. Especially since Whegg had grown used to the cooler weather of autumn.
As they painstakingly trudged through the forest, it got warmer, though Whegg saw no large fire. Here, the trees dripped, and the surroundings glistened with water. Steam rose like fog, creating a white haze. 
Bella’s water had listened. 
It was eerie, silent except for the quiet crunches of hooves and drips of water. No insects sang, and no leaves rustled. At long last, they saw green again, and Whegg had not known he could be so happy to see moss. Once they entered the undamaged forest, it took a mere ten minutes until they reached Brockhall. Whegg felt a chill to know the fire had come so close.
The garden above Brockhall swarmed with creatures, all scuffed, smelling of smoke, and smudged with soot. Germaine ran here and there, helping those who nursed burns. 
The moment she noticed Whegg… or rather who he carried, she stopped dead in her tracks and scowled. “So that’s where my missing patient went! Honestly.”
“Oh, Brek!” Lady Rose came running up, paws cupped to her mouth and Lord Tynek followed in her wake. “Thank you for bringing him home, let me have him.”
“Er…” Whegg began, unsure if she was really strong enough to carry him, but Tynek’s glare made him obey. He gave Brek to his sister, who surprisingly, managed to hold him with less difficulty than Whegg had expected. She walked off, Tynek trailing behind her again. 
Germaine clucked her tongue. “Little idiot.”
“Brave little idiot.” Whegg corrected. “He may have helped save Mossflower tonight.”
“Hmph.” Said Germaine, but she conceded. “I suppose. He’s still in trouble.”
 
She walked to a mouse whose arm was coated in nasty red blisters, all the fur having burned away. Whegg held his weariness at bay as he made his way to the kitchen, noting Glyn was getting Warthorn help for Bella. 
Whegg wanted to go to his room and sleep. He’d been up all night, and he could see predawn beginning to light the morning sky. He made it as far as the door into Brockhall, when Gina stepped out of it. She stared at him for a fraction of a minute, then flung her arms around him and buried her face in his chest. 
She said nothing, but she didn’t really have to. Whegg wrapped his arms around her and leaned against the doorframe, wanting to slump to the ground and fall asleep then and there. She seemed nearly as tired as he as she relaxed against him. 
“I… promised I’d come back.”
It was all he could say.
She sniffed a little, and nodded. He stroked her mused hair. “I love ya.”
Again, she nodded, and just held tight to him. Finally she managed to say, “I love ya too.”
Whegg noticed a bandage on her right arm and asked, “What’s this?”
“I was helpin’ some creatures escape.”
Her mumbled reply sent a pang of fear through Whegg’s heart. “Ya left Brockhall?”
She nodded. “Sorry. But I couldn’t just let creatures die. Anyway, ya do it.”
Whegg wanted to say that what he did was very different and that she should have stayed where she would have been protected. But she was right. It was no different. He could smell the smoke in her hair and clothing now, and when she looked up at him, he saw his own weariness reflected in her gaze. She looked asleep on her paws.
There were several more burns on her, little things like if flying sparks had hit her, singing her fur. Whegg sighed. He looked to the crowd of injured, and asked, “Ya need any help?”
She nodded. “That’d be great, honey.”
He followed her, knowing he’d have no rest for awhile yet. There was so much to do.
><><
Sayna clung to Dancer’s mane as the fire roared behind them, licking at the unicorn’s hooves. Torrin held tight to her, whether to keep her from falling or to keep himself from falling, she wasn’t sure. It was likely both. 
She held her flaming sword out away from Dancer’s neck, and gripped her sides tightly with her legs. She could hear the roar behind her, like a wave crashing on the shore. Sparks bit into the back of her arm, and she held in her cry of pain. Torrin tightened his grip on her, gasping, “Well, it worked!”
“Too well!” Sayna shouted back, patting Dancer’s mane. “Are you alright?”
“No!” Dancer yelled. “Shut up and let me run!”
Sayna didn’t argue with that. Behind them rose a wall of fire, and before them stretched an unbroken prairie just waiting to fuel it even more. 
Where was Argulor? She hadn’t seen him, even when the two fires had met and Dancer had bolted away from the destruction they had wrought, destruction that now turned upon them. Maybe she’d just missed him in all the fire. He was the same color as it, after all.
Cries of alarm rang out ahead, and Sayna looked up to see a cluster of buildings surrounded by tended fields, a farmstead. Two creatures attempted to free a cluster of frightened feral horses from a paddock, and Sayna found it in her heart to pity them as Dancer thundered past, fire just seconds behind.
They ran through the farmyard, Dancer’s tail trailing sparks through the night’s dark. Sayna could see a mother and two young kits standing at the farmhouse door, and she yelled, “Run!”
She doubted it would be of use. Dancer could barely outpace this fire. 
Sayna shoved down the guilt wanting to rise in her heart.
It was my creatures or these. Tsarmina would do no less to us.
It was still hard. This was the true face of war, the soul of it. For all the acts of valor done, magnificent swords forged, and speeches made, it all came down to this. 
Sayna did her best to block out the screams from behind as the fire hit the farmstead, and slowed now that it had something more substantial to burn, something other than dry grass.
Dancer ran on, breath coming in gasps. Sayna doubted her friend even thought about her destination at this point, she would simply run until she could run no more. 
“Look! Up there.” Torrin pointed, and Sayna turned to face the way ahead. 
Hills rose from the flatlands here, some quite steep and made mostly of white rock, bleached in the sun. Thickets of trees coated them, but the white tops breached the treeline.
Sayna drew in a hissing breath. A lake would be better. 
But Dancer would collapse soon, and the fire was already spreading past the farm, gaining momentum on the open grassland once more. “It’s our best hope. Dancer, run for those hills.”
She did so, but her gait was dragging. Sayna rubbed her sweaty neck, trying not to think about the fire behind them. Dancer slowed as she struggled up an incline that would have normally not even given her pause, but blessedly, the fire did too as it found the trees.
Dancer staggered up the steeper hill, finding a path around its back since its face was sheer, eroded rock. Torrin leapt from her back and ran beside her, and Sayna quickly joined him. 
She stumbled atop the hill, something that breached the treeline by at least the height of a typical cottage. Smoke assaulted her face as the thicket below turned into a sea of flames, and the heat grew nearly unbearable. This was as bad as Pyralis’s lava forge.
Sayna turned as smoke poured over them, licking around her. Dancer had her head down, sides heaving, and Torrin just looked blankly at her.
“This… feels familiar, doesn’t it?”
Sayna took a few steps closer, holding her sleeve to her mouth as she coughed, “Yeah.”
Breathing was difficult, it felt like swallowing sand. 
He shook his head. “Why is it that when you and I try to do anything together, something like this happens?”
“I attract danger.” Sayna said, raspily. 
She was starting to feel lightheaded. Smoke swirled around them in sheets, making it feel as though Torrin, Dancer, and her were the only creatures to exist. He coughed into his paw, suddenly looking at her hair. “You still have it.”
His voice sounded weary. “The rose.”
Sayna reached up and touched it, feeling the petals. Then she said, “I… mean, I haven’t really had time to change my hair. You still have my ribbon.”
She coughed, almost doubling over as he looked at it, and shrugged. “I didn’t have time to change gloves.”
The world shouldn’t spin this much. There was a thud beside her as Dancer collapsed, and Sayna just stared blankly. She… she should do something. But what could she do?
“It’s selfish.” Torrin said, staring blankly into the smoke. “To say I’m glad you’re with me.”
He coughed. “I wish you could survive this. But I never did fancy dying alone.”
Sayna slowly shook her head, her sword slipping from her claws and hitting the ground with a clatter. “I… don’t fancy dying at all.”
“Death…” Torrin coughed. “Comes to all mortals.”
The world spun as she nodded, and her knees buckled. He caught her, and fell with her. Everything was so hot, so terribly, dizzily hot.
She lay there, and Torrin slowly pulled her against himself, resting his chin atop her head. 
That… was somehow nice.
Sayna coughed. She should tell him something, shouldn’t she? Something she wouldn’t have time to say later. She tugged on his tunic, muttering, “I… I need…”
What did she need?
And where was Bloodwrath right now? Who was Bloodwrath anyway?
For that matter, who was she?
“I’m glad… that I met you.”
Torrin. That was Torrin, even if his voice seemed far away. Right, she’d been wanting to tell him something, hadn’t she? But she couldn’t remember.
So she gave the most logical response to his statement that she could think of as she snuggled against him; a somehow calming presence in the face of death.
“Yeah… you too.”
== Chapter 45 Every One of Us ==
Air.
Blessed, clean air. Sayna gasped it in as it flowed around her and great gusts, and she began hacking uncontrollably, trying to expel the smoke from her lungs. Someone had a paw wrapped around her, holding her up, though that arm shook as much as she did. 
She blinked open raw eyes to see Torrin holding her, though he looked ready to collapse himself. 
Sayna looked around, and gasped when she saw Argulor, feathers brighter than she’d ever seen, clearing the smoke away with massive sweeps of his wings. 
Argulor. He’d saved them.
How had he gotten here?
He flew, of course.
Said the voice in her head. Sayna coughed, and winced as a pang shot down her shoulder like a knife blade. It helped clear her foggy mind. She gasped as she saw Dancer laying on her side, hindquarters a mass of burns and part of her long, raven-blue tail completely missing.
Despite the pain, despite everything, Sayna pulled away from Torrin and crawled to Dancer’s side. She took the unicorn’s head and weakly pulled it into her lap, before stroking her long, delicate face like she had when they were young.
“Dancer, please!”
She could hear the tears clogging her voice. “Please!”
She buried her face in Dancer’s mane, and slumped against her as Torrin laid a gentle paw on her back. “Sayna, she’s breathing.”
Sayna wordlessly nodded and cradled Dancer’s head against herself, trying to hold in her tears. Why did she cause nothing but pain wherever she went? 
Torrin sat by her side, and touched her bad shoulder. She winced, groaning, “That’s dislocated.”
“I do have to agree.” Said Torrin. His voice held a note of pain, just as hers did.
She lifted her head. “Are you hurt?”
“It’s not too bad.” He tried to grin, but couldn’t do more than a grimace. “I just got a few burns.”
“Burns?” Sayna could feel an unpleasant warmth down her entire right side, the one that had been facing the ground while she hung off Dancer to light the fire. She didn’t want to know how bad it was, not right now.
The firelight was fading now, and the smoke clearing on its own.
Sayna looked up as the swirling air subsided, and Argulor stretched out his wings, before folding them with a sigh. He turned and strutted over, and yes, Sayna was sure his feathers actually glowed now, like embers. Also… was he bigger than before?
He looked the three of them over, tsking his tongue with a hissing like that of coals. “Is saving you from fire going to be a regular occurance, lassie?”
Sayna shivered. Ignasa above, she hoped not. Her voice was horribly scratchy as she murmured, “Thank you, Argulor.”
He puffed out his chest, squawking, “Of course. Is the lass still alive?”
Argulor leaned in as he asked, then nodded to himself. “Ah, she is. Good. Oof, laddie! Your back!”
Torrin shrugged, then closed his eyes in pain. “Yeah. It’s a little sore.”
“A little!” Argulor sounded scandalized. “A little, he says. Sore, he says. Laddie, you need a healer, all three of you do.”
“It’s not quite as bad as a severe whipping.” Torrin relaxed his shrug slowly, wincing as he did. “Ok, maybe it is.”
Argulor huffed worriedly. He paced back and forth, muttering to himself. Sayna leaned over to take a look at Torrin’s back, and her paws flew to her mouth unbidden, causing her pain as well. “Oh! … ow.”
“I’ve had worse.” Torrin tried to grin. He really did. But he failed. 
His tunic was scorched to point it was close to falling off, the fur beneath blackened, the skin below it blistering. Scars already wove across his back like latticework, this just added to them. Sayna shut her open mouth. “Did you catch on fire?”
“Maybe?” He said, though he didn’t shrug like usual. “I’m not really sure. Everything happened too fast.”
“Hmph.” Said Argulor, still pacing. “If only you had the fire resistance of a phoenix. Now what do we do? I can’t carry you, and I doubt you can walk.”
Sayna looked down at her right arm, wincing at her burned sleeve and the welts beginning to peep through her seared fur. It was like that down her entire side. “No. I don’t think we’ll be walking.”
Argulor suddenly paused midstep, talon raised and head cocked. “I think I have an idea. Wait here.”
With that, he launched into the sky before Sayna could say a word. She stared after his retreating form, sighing. “As if we could do anything else.”
“I wish…” Torrin muttered, “He’d tell us his plan before flying off.”
Sayna just looked deeper into Greeneye land, watching the fire sweeping throughout it. It had left the thicket surrounding their hill a smoldering ruin, and it continued on, leaving an ocean of blackened ground behind.
What would Tsarmina do in retaliation to this? Sayna dreaded to think of it. As she watched the fire burn away farms and what looked like a small village in the distance, she couldn’t help but think that this was the beginning of the end. 
Dancer groaned, and Sayna stroked her face. “Are you awake?”
“Wish I wasn’t.” Dancer coughed, pain branded on her features.
Sayna felt a pang of guilt, and she stroked Dancer’s mane. “You do so much for me. And I do so little in return.”
“My choice.” Dancer wheezed. “Stop making me talk.”
Sayna said nothing more, just held the unicorn’s head and tried not to stare at the burns coating her legs. Above her, the sky was growing pinkish gray with the light of dawn, stars fading to soft twinkles and the undersides of clouds tinging with coral. It looked to be turning into a very nice day.
If only her entire right side wasn’t screaming in pain. She’d felt pain, yes, she felt it often. But there was something about burns that brought a special kind of agony. A heat deep under her fur that made it feel like her flesh was still aflame; raw, stabbing knives of pain lancing through the entire affected area. 
From beside her, Torrin coughed, then groaned. “I think…”
He murmured. “I think I need to lie down.”
“You can’t!” Sayna blurted in alarm. “You’ll get dirt in your burns, it’ll make them so much worse…”
“Sayna.” He said blearily, bracing a paw against the ground and clenching his teeth. “I’m going to fall over anyway.”
She reached out and steadied him, holding back her wail at the pain in her dislocated shoulder. He slumped against her, head falling against his chest, unheeding of her whimper. All Sayna could do was stay still, praying to Ignasa that the Greeneyes wouldn’t come, and that the help Argulor said he was getting would. 
Time passed slowly, and the sun peeked over the horizon, rising to a drastically altered landscape. Everything was black, aside from the characteristic white rock of several hills that rose above the destruction.
Sayna’s arm and side grew stiff as the fluid oozing from them dried, and her throat screamed for water, her whole body did. She held her two friends amid the chaos she’d created, and wondered how long she could really stay awake. 
But she had to! She had to keep watch… she…
A tear dripped down her cheek. What would she do anyway? Her sword lay a few feet from her, but she was too wracked with pain to even lift it. 
She wanted to sleep.
“Sayna!”
Thuds of hooves rang out, and the air shifted in gusts with the flapping of wings. Argulor? But the voice was feminine. 
Red hair filled her vision as Rose dropped down beside her, and she stared at her sister in confusion. “Rose?”
“Oh! Oh Ignasa help us. Sayna, what have you done?” Rose asked, pulling off her satchel.
That… was a very good question. “I’m… really not sure.”
White feathers, iridescent in the blush of dawn, filled Sayna’s vision as Luna walked around to tend to Dancer. Rose pulled out a water flask and brought it to Sayna’s lips. “Shush. Just drink, alright?”
Sayna didn’t protest. The cool water slid down her throat, thrumming with magic. It must be from Brockhall. Once she’d had several swallows, Sayna held up her paw. “Give… Torrin some too.”
“He’s unconscious, Sayna. And honestly his back needs it more. Here. You’re going to help with this.”
“If…” Sayna blinked hard. “If I don’t pass out.”
Rose’s voice was commanding. “You won’t. Focus, you made this mess, the least you can do is help me fix it.”
Sayna supposed Rose had a point. Rose pulled a bowl from her satchel and filled it with a bit of the faintly glowing water. Then she turned Torrin onto his face with some effort, and tossed some rags to Sayna. “Get those damp.”
She carefully began pulling pieces of scorched tunic free of his back, and Sayna did as her sister said, painfully wetting the pieces of cloth.
Rose laid them on Torrin’s back, and then hurried to look at Sayna’s side. “Well, you’re not quite so bad off. Give me a rag.”
Sayna obeyed, and Rose gently blotted the burns. Sayna held back a scream, and let a thin whimper through her teeth as Rose began peeling disintegrating pieces of her shirt from her arm. Rose’s voice was tight with worry. “Yes I’ll bet it does hurt. Be glad it’s not numb, that would mean it was worse.”
Sayna gazed at Roses arms, noting the bandages wrapped around them. Her dress was covered in singe marks, the hem blackened. 
“Are you… alright?”
Sayna’s own voice felt far away to her own ears. Rose glared at her. “Am I alright? No! My sister’s entire right side is a mass of burns! My brother is unconscious and I don’t know if or when he’ll wake!”
Sayna blinked, asking, “Tynek?”
Rose continued her work, huffing, “Not your brother, Sayna. My brother ...our brother. Brek.”
Oh. Right, Brek was alive. Or he had been. Rose wrapped some damp cloths over Sayna’s side and arm, than crawled to Torrin and began re-wetting the rags on his back. She turned to Luna, asking, “Is Indigo getting close? Look out there, can you see them?”
“Rose.” Luna said, sounding almost longsuffering, and didn’t look up from Dancer.
For some reason, Rose groaned. “Right. Right. Sorry. Can you do something for these two? I think Sayna’s in shock.”
Am I?
But then, this did feel quite similar to the first time she’d killed, or when she’d been rescued from the burning Marshank.
It seemed like she’d sat there forever, the world around her moving in a blur. Why was her life defined by fire? Fires at Marshank, at Salamandastron, at Kotir, and now this. Even her sword glowed with flames when she touched it now. 
Why did it have to be fire?
Sayna had thought she didn’t like fire before, but that had grown exponentially in the last twenty four hours.
She coughed. Should she have done nothing? But she’d saved Mossflower, hadn’t she?
Or had she? 
Somehow, deep in her gut, Sayna got the feeling she might have made everything a lot worse. 
We defied her.
Sayna felt gentle paws lifting her, but she still cried out at the level of pain it brought. 
Tsarmina was just like Roderick had been, once. Imperious, hiding her cowardice under a facade of power. A facade Sayna had threatened to break.
I started a war, didn’t I?
She could hear many creatures milling around her now, more must have arrived. Was that Indigo’s voice? The rabbit didn’t sound happy.
Back home, when she’d threatened Roderick’s facade of power, he’d hit her. He’d get her alone and beat her until he felt better about himself. Until he thought she was too weak to rise again. 
Please.
She could feel the tears leaking from her eyes. 
Oh Ignasa, please!
If Tsarmina did the same to Mossflower, there would be nothing left. All the bruises, all the little scars Roderick had given her, she’d survived. Like a rock in the ocean, she remained resolute, each hit chipping away a tiny piece of her. Those things shaped her. 
But should Tsarmina do her equivalent, Mossflower would shatter beneath the strain.
The darkness of sleep tugged at Sayna’s mind, but she strained against it. If she let it come, would she ever wake? What would she miss? Would Mossflower fall while she lay unconscious?
What are you going to do anyway?
Nothing. She could do nothing.
“Lass.” Groddil’s voice; weary and far, far away. “Let yourself rest. You have done enough for one day. We will take care of things from here.”
Sayna resisted for a moment, a long, futile one. Then she relaxed in the arms that held her, and pain or no, felt herself slip from reality.
Her dreams were fitful, broken things. Several times, Sayna was sure she was awake, only to realize she was back in Evenglade, just wearing Sandingomm’s glittery purple underwear, and Roderick was creepily flirting with her.
Other times she found herself on the tower of Kotir again, rain soaking her and wind slashing into her fur. Only this time Torrin wasn’t there, it was Bloodwrath instead, whispering in her ear that she should jump. That if she did, everything would be better. 
The most frightening thing was that Sayna almost believed her.
And in her dream, she jumped.
“No!” Sayna struggled. “I can’t die, not yet!”
“You won’t.” That was Germaine’s voice, calm and a little annoyed. “Now stop squirming and hold still. This will be rather unpleasant.” 
She wasn’t wrong. Sayna heard her own wail as Germaine pushed on her dislocated shoulder, twisting upwards. There was an audible pop, one Sayna felt through her entire body, and she groaned as the knives of pain faded to a dull ache. 
She fell back against pillows, and blinked against the light that glared in her aching eyes. 
“I think…” Sayna muttered, gut twisting within her. “I think I’m going to be sick.”
“That wouldn’t surprise me.” Germaine said calmly, brushing hair off Sayna’s warm forehead. “Try to relax, please.”
A damp cloth was laid on her forehead, and the coolness flowed through her, forcing her to let out a deep sigh. She lay in Brockhall’s infirmary, though she wasn’t in the room she’d woken in after the Kotir incident. She was in the main room, she could see the blue ripples of light reflected off water on the ceiling. 
“Amyl, change the bandages on her arm.” Germaine ordered to someone. “I’ll be back.”
The mouse healer walked off to a nearby bed. There was a scraping, and a stool was pushed beside Sayna, before a tiny, dark furred mouse scrambled onto it. She deftly began unwrapping Sayna’s bandaged arm, like she’d done this sort of thing all her young life. She didn’t even wince at the burns.
Sayna did, on the other paw.
The entire outside of her arm was a mass of red and black blisters, all the fur having fallen out. She gritted her teeth at Amyl’s touch, gentle though it was. It felt like she was being dragged across ground covered in sharp rocks.
Sayna forced herself to breathe evenly, her practice for Bloodwrath proving itself useful in multiple applications.
Amyl cleaned the wound with cool, faintly glowing water, and then smeared some kind of greasy ointment on it. Sayna gasped through her teeth. She usually grew accustomed to whatever pain she was in, and it faded to at least bearable levels. But this? Each time it flared up was as bad as the first. 
“And this is why we don’t play with fire.” Said Germaine from several feet away, at the other bed. “I hope you learned your lesson.”
“Yeah.” Sayna whimpered, feeling the involuntary tears leak from her eyes.
Amyl carefully bound the injury, paws nimble and sure. Once she’d finished, she rushed off at Germaine’s orders, and Sayna allowed herself to close her eyes and relax again. Now that the bandages were in place, her arm only ached, plus the unpleasant warmth that permeated it.
“Has… Tsarmina attacked?” Sayna mumbled, not bothering to open her eyes. 
“No, young queen.” Germaine said from nearby. “There have been no more assaults. Rest, please.”
That… sounded like a really good idea. 
Sayna felt herself sink into the bed, and let out a sigh. She was terribly tired. 
She woke to dim surroundings. This time, she was in the room she’d been in after Kotir, or one identical to it. She felt well rested at least. That meant she’d probably been asleep for several days. 
Her side and arm ached, somewhere between a dull throbbing and stabbing pain.
Sayna inhaled deeply, noting where her sword stood against the wall near the simple mirror. And then she looked in that mirror. 
Her hair was ragged, the right side having been shaved off so it was the same length as her fur. Her right cheek was bandaged, as was her neck, and her entire arm. Sayna couldn’t see more of herself for the sheet covering her, but from the pains she could feel, she guessed her side and right leg had suffered the same fate. 
She let out the breath she’d been holding. Well, she’d been wanting a haircut. And these burns would just add some new scars to the cacophony of ones already residing on her body.
Voices came from outside her blue curtained door. 
“Well, you can check, but I don’t think she’s awake.”
That sounded like Rose. 
“I will look.” Said Tynek, a moment later, in his distinctly careful voice. It was as though he had to consider the sounds to make before he said them, leaving his words crisp and perfect. Too perfect. He didn’t have the slightest hint of an accent or slurring, like a normal creature.
He walked through the curtain, blinking at her for a moment. Then he looked over his shoulder. “She is awake.”
Rose’s voice came from outside. “Oh, alright. Then you can talk to her. I’ll join you two soon, I need to help Germaine for a moment.”
Tynek just nodded, and Sayna heard Rose’s footsteps growing farther away. Tynek walked fully into the room, and Sayna noticed he limped slightly. He was bare-pawed, and one was bandaged up a little past his ankle. He pulled up a chair and sat.
“You look worse than me.”
Sayna nodded, attempting a weak smirk. “Well… there’s a first time for everything, right?”
Tynek thought about that for a moment, and then smiled. “Yes. I suppose.”
“I’ve not heard you use that word before.” Sayna remarked, pulling herself up against her pillows.
Tynek shrugged. “Rose showed me. I am… practicing larger words.”
He paused, adding, “It is helpful to know what they mean.”
Was it odd to feel proud of him? But she did. 
“What you did was…” He paused, searching for a word.
“Stupid? Moronic? Foolish? Risky?” Sayna supplied him with a few.
Tynek rolled his eyes. “Brave.”
Oh. He’d been trying to complement her actions instead of condemn them. She looked down. “Well… thank you.”
Tynek shrugged. They sat in silence for a bit, before Sayna asked, “How long has it been since the fire?”
Tynek looked thoughtful, then said, “Four days. Or five. There have been… a lot of things. I am forgetting.”
Sayna understood that feeling.
“It’s been five days.” The curtain rustled as Rose stepped in. “You’ve been in and out of consciousness, but you probably don’t remember, you were babbling nonsense. Something about purple underwear and Bloodwrath.”
Ugh. Sayna shuddered. The two things destined to haunt her nightmares forever.
She looked up as Rose walked to Tynek, laying a paw on his shoulder and rubbing it. Sayna took a deep breath and forced herself to ask. “How is Dancer? And Torrin?”
Rose shrugged. “Dancer is a unicorn. She’s on her hooves again, just limping and mourning the loss of her tail. Torrin’s much worse.”
“He’s alive though, right?” Sayna asked, probably too quickly.
Rose raised an eyebrow, and smiled. “Yes. Just in severe pain.”
He protected me.
Sayna glanced down at that realization. When she’d come up with her plan, she’d never considered it put Torrin’s back directly to the fire. She’d not thought about burns. And he hadn’t said a word against it.
Of course, he probably hadn’t thought of the consequences in the heat of the moment either. 
Rose patted Tynek’s arm. “Ty, since she’s awake now, I should help her clean up. Don’t you have to survey the borders with Warthorn today?”
Tynek’s ears pricked up. “Oh! Yes.”
He stood, leaning down and kissing Rose’s cheek. Then he limped from the room. Rose beamed after him, clasping her paws for a moment. Then she turned to Sayna. “Well, come on. You need a bath.”
“A bath?” Sayna asked hesitantly. 
Rose pulled her blankets off, helping her up. “Yes. The water here helps with the burns. Mine are nearly healed, and Germaine wants everyone to soak in it as soon as they’re able.”
Sayna stumbled against Rose, and blinked as her sister actually caught her and supported her weight.
“When did you get so strong?”
Rose huffed. “Sayna, I was an oarslave for several months. And I’m an archer. I’m not fragile like I used to be.”
Sayna wordlessly nodded. It was odd to think that Rose might actually be stronger than she was right now. She leaned heavily on her sister as Rose helped her across the main room of the infirmary to a wooden door opposite where the curtained doors were.
Rose pushed the door open, leading Sayna into a room with a shallow pool of water.
She closed it, then helped Sayna undress. It took an honestly ridiculous amount of time, seeing as all she wore was a simple tunic. But every movement she made was tempered and slow for fear of the pain she would wake if she went any faster. Even after the tunic was off, Rose still had to unwind Sayna’s many bandages, a process that took many minutes and forced Sayna to clench her teeth against the splinters of pain it brought.
She looked down at her bare arm, noticing the black spots in her burns were gone. They were soft pink, ringed in white and a little yellow. 
How much of her fur would actually grow back? It had fallen out all down her side, and leg. She imagined her neck and cheek were much the same.
“Come, take my paw.” Rose said, softly. 
She sounded so much like their mother. Encouraging and kind, someone who believed in those she loved no matter what they did. A weakness at times, and an unbreakable strength at others.
Sayna slipped her paw into Rose’s, taking careful steps into the water-filled basin.
Her burns didn’t protest as much as she’d expected, and Sayna relaxed in the water as Rose said, “I’ll be back in a moment. Soak for awhile, it helps a lot.”
Sayna closed her eyes and nodded. She could feel the cooling effect almost instantly. Rose left, slipping out of the door and closing it behind her. Sayna lay completely still, letting the magical water soak through her fur, down to her skin. 
It banished the heat in her burns, cooling them and making them faintly tingle. 
I very nearly died out there.
Sayna sighed at the thought. If Argulor had been only a few moments later, she wouldn’t be here anymore. It made her consider her actions.
Maybe Indigo is right. I need to start exercising more caution. 
The burns coating her right side were proof enough. Next time, she might not be so lucky. 
Rose came back after a while, and insisted on washing what was left of Sayna’s hair. Then she carefully helped her dry off, and rebandaged her, before she at last helped her into a new long tunic. 
Sayna joined her sister for a meal of warm soup, then allowed herself to be led back to her room, and bed. 
“Hey Rose?” She asked, feeling worn out.
“Yes Sayna?” Rose tucked the sheets around her.
Sayna yawned. She felt reasonably comfortable. “Do you know where my journal is? It should be under my pillow… I’d like to write in it.”
“I’ll get it.” Rose smiled, smoothing Sayna’s hair out like their mother always did. “Go to sleep.”
Sayna made no more protests at that, and let herself relax.
Several days passed in that manner. Rose helped Sayna bathe the burns, dressed them, and then sent her back to bed. She did bring the journal, and Sayna wrote down what she’d managed to glean about the damages caused by the fire. They were extensive, but not so extensive as she feared. Apparently the woods above Brockhall hadn’t been touched, though the blaze had come frighteningly close.
On the tenth day since the fire, Sayna woke to find a orange-haired creature in her room, but it wasn’t Rose.
She blinked sleepily at her brother, asking, “Brek?”
He smiled at her, before pulling a gray piece of fabric from behind his back. “I wanted to return your coat.”
“My… coat?” Sayna stammered, mind processing.
“Yes.” He laid it on a chair near her bed. “I washed the blood out of it.”
Sayna blinked at him. “Were you hurt?”
Brek shook his head. “Not really. I just exhausted myself… it wasn’t actually my blood.”
“Oh.” Sayna said, feeling a little lightheaded. Brek, on a battlefield. The kit who used to cry when he fell and scraped his knees.
“Hey, um.” Brek fiddled with his paws, looking down at them. “You… I… are you feeling better?”
Sayna stretched a little, finding that she truly was. Her side wasn’t screaming anymore, just quietly protesting. “Actually… yes I am.”
Brek nodded. “Oh. Good.”
Sayna raised an eyebrow. “Is there something you want?”
“Yeah.” Brek admitted with a sigh, as he ran his claws through his long, wild orange hair. Had it actually gotten brighter as he’d aged? Sayna really thought it had. His freckles were even more pronounced, speckling his face and running down his arms to the backs of his paws. “I know you might not want to, but Gingivere was wondering… if you could speak with him again.”
“Gingivere?” Sayna asked, then remembered. “Oh. Right, the Greeneye Prince.” 
Brek shook his head. “My prince.”
Sayna blinked at him. She wasn’t exactly sure what to think of her brother’s involvement with a Greeneyes. “You trust him so much?”
“With my life.” Brek said, without a second's hesitation.
“Well then.” Sayna said, carefully sitting upright. “I suppose I better meet him for real.”
Brek grinned at that, a smile that shone like the breaking dawn. Sayna couldn’t help but smile back. Her little brother, back from the dead. She got her legs beneath her, and staggered upright. Her side was stiff, but it hurt far less than ten days ago. Still, she couldn’t move fast. She slipped her gray coat on over her tunic, hoping to hide some of her many bandages.
Brek might trust this prince Gingivere, but she didn’t want to appear any weaker than she had to. 
Brek slipped into a room nearby, and Sayna followed, blinking as he pulled up a chair for her. She slowly sat, recalling days when he would have been more likely to mischievously pull a chair out from under her. He sat in his own chair, and as he did, Sayna turned to the Greeneye prince. “Brek says you wanted to see me.”
The cat prince blinked at her for a moment, silent. Sayna glanced to the side, and then back at him. “You… did want to see me, right?”
He quickly nodded. “Yes! I just… didn’t expect you to actually come.”
Sayna rubbed her forehead, looking him over. He was sitting up on his own today, and while his bones still jutted from beneath his fur, his eyes held far more life than the dull things she had seen during their first meeting.
“Look. You saved my brother.” Sayna took a deep breath. “You saved both my brothers. And you saved me. I don’t know your intentions or motivations, but I’d like to.”
Gingivere folded his paws, before gazing down. “As a kit, the grand stories of your land were my escape. I lived amongst their pages, dreaming of knights and golden crowned kings.”
He looked up at her, a soft smile crossing his face. “To think I’d finally meet you, and like this.”
Sayna just stared. How could the prince of the kingdom that made this whole mess be so relatable?
Gingivere stumbled over his words then, when she didn’t respond. “I mean… it is an honor, it truly is. I wish I was more sure of my continued existence, and I’d always hoped to forge some kind of alliance with you, the legends from my books.”
He closed his eyes, head drooping forward. “Of course… that isn’t possible.”
“Why?”
Gingivere looked up at that, and Brek did to, from where he sat, quiet and proper. 
“Um.” Gingivere cocked an ear to the side, saying, “Because I see now. I thought you would want my help for some reason. I know it seems stupid, but I hadn’t thought it through. I made the assumption I could be their hero.”
He smiled weakly at her. “But you’re their hero, aren’t you?”
That was the face of a broken dream. Sayna had seen it in her own eyes before. She shook her head. “No… I mean, yes. I mean, I don’t know about the hero thing. But that wasn’t what I was asking. I meant, why did you, Prince of the Greeneyes, seek solace in our history, of all things? What drove you to that end?”
Gingivere blinked at her, then looked away. At last he said, “My sister. She’s despised me since I was born. She’s the eldest, you know. But my father wanted a son to crown.”
There was a bitterness in his voice. Sayna glanced at Brek. He just sadly nodded.
“Well.” Sayna leaned back in her chair. “I suppose you aren’t alone in that. I sought solace from my adopted father in those books.” 
At that, Gingivere pricked his ears up. Sayna offered him a weak smile. “We all have reasons to leave reality, you know.”
He nodded. Because he did know. She could see it in his eyes. She relaxed then, letting out a sigh. “I took your advice. That sister of yours lost a few thousand soldiers.”
Gingivere stared, and Sayna leaned forward. “So. Can you tell me what she’ll do to us in return?”
“I… don’t know the details, but nothing good.” 
“Yeah. That’s what I figured.” She leaned against the back of her chair. “What defences or plans might your father have set in place to be put into action in the event of a war with us?”
Gingivere stroked his un-trimmed chin, finally saying, “I believe he had no intention of ever taking war to you. He told his creatures you all had been killed, at least enough of you that you would never rise again. But I knew the truth. He dreaded your river. He kept surveillance on it, he believed it had life of its own, though he never said why.”
“Bella.” Brek said, from where he sat in his chair.
“Yes. Through my research… and the research your brother aided me in, we found records of Lady Bella, the Prophet of water. It wasn’t too hard to begin piecing together how Mossflower had frightened my father, Verdauga Greeneyes, enough to leave them alone.”
Sayna slowly nodded. “Well, the Codex Roiga has an account of it.”
Gingivere frowned, before saying, “Your majesty, I mean no disrespect. But I found a copy of that book, and it’s records stop days before the Greeneye conquest.”
“Mine… wasn’t like that.” Sayna said, slowly. 
Urran wrote in it. She realized with a start. But why? Yes, it was his duty, but he shirked most of that.
She looked up, saying, “But I think some alterations were made to it in the aftermath.”
“Do you have it?” Gingivere leaned forward, actual excitement in his eyes. He collected himself moments later, pulling back. “I… beg your forgiveness, your highness. I simply… have been investigating this sort of thing for years. I spoke out of turn in my eagerness.”
Sayna blinked at him for a moment, then shrugged. “Unfortunately, your father got ahold of it when he captured my brother and I.”
Brek cocked his head, and Sayna sighed. “My other brother, Brek.”
He scrunched up his nose in distaste. Oh. Right. Brek had no idea how much Tynek had changed. “He’s nothing like he used to be.”
“I don’t know what Rose sees in him.” Brek tucked his knees against his chest, wrapping his arms around his legs. “Or why she’s still with him.”
“There are worse things.” Sayna said.
Brek glared at her. “You condone it? He nearly killed her! For years I thought he had.”
Sayna rubbed her forehead. “Brek. He made mistakes, like we all have. He had no understanding of… well, anything really. It doesn’t excuse him, but he’s trying. Yes. I give it my blessing.”
She rolled her eyes. “And it’s Rose’s choice, in the end.”
She glanced at Gingivere, who looked quite awkward. “Also why are we having this conversation here?”
“Cause it needs to be had.” Brek said sullenly. 
Sayna glanced at Gingivere, actually feeling bad. “Well, I don’t want to drag the prince into any family feuds. Maybe you should talk it over with Rose.”
Brek still sulked. “She won’t listen.”
“You’re very correct.” Sayna said. She shrugged to Gingivere. “Sorry.”
“It’s alright.” He heaved a deep sigh. “Family is complicated.”
Brek just crossed his arms. For a moment, no one said anything, and Sayna began wondering what she could do to break the awkward silence. Gingivere did it for her. “I did actually want to tell you something.”
Sayna felt her ears prick up, and she nodded.
“After you left, I…” Here he paused. After a moment, he said, “I thought of a piece of Greeneye law that could help us. Especially now, against my sister’s retaliation.”
“I’m open to anything.” Sayna said, attempting to hold in her eagerness.
Gingivere nodded. “You see, she set herself up to be backed into this corner when she accused me of my father’s murder. By law, as heir to his throne, I can challenge her to trial by combat. She never gave me a proper trial, and I am still lawfully owed one. But at this point, I may be able to orchestrate it on my terms, not hers.”
“You mean…” Sayna looked him up and down for a moment, noting how weak he still was. “You would fight her.”
He shrugged. “I’m the only one who can.”
Sayna just stared, and considered his words. If they could take down Tsarmina instead of fighting her armies… well. There could be a chance. But Gingivere was right. Tsarmina would never accept the challenge of a Mossflowerian king.
But Gingivere…
He shrugged. “I don’t know how that would work with the laws of your nation. But I offer it.”
Sayna slowly nodded. “Thank you. I will see what I can discover.”
He might be our only hope.
How strange it was to consider that. The prince of the very kingdom that had destroyed them… might be the only one able save them.
“Milady!”
Sayna jumped, and Brek and Gingivere did too. Indigo was the one who pushed open the curtain door. She didn’t sound or look happy in any capacity of the word.
“Milady.” She said again, crisply. “If we could have a word.”
The rabbit shot Gingivere a glare. “Alone.”
Sayna sighed, and stood. “Of course.”
She gave Brek an apologetic look, and nodded to Gingivere, before stepping into the main room of the infirmary, where Germaine worked over her desk. The moment she saw Sayna and Indigo, the infirmary keeper righted herself, gave them a little bow, and left the room.
Great. That left her alone with Indigo.
Sayna took a deep breath, and braced herself. “Yes, Indigo. I know what you’re going to say. How I should have been more careful, or let you come with me. But I couldn’t! There wasn’t time, and something had to be done.”
She closed her eyes, awaiting the shouting to begin. Instead, a paw slid onto her unburnt shoulder, the one that had been dislocated. Thankfully, Sayna could barely feel that injury anymore.
She blinked up at Indigo as the rabbit gravely dipped her head. “I understand that, milady. And war is risk, I just wish you would take fewer risks into your own paws. One of these days you’ll find yourself in over your head.”
“I nearly did this time.” Sayna looked at the floor, feeling the stiffness in her healing burns as she cautiously flexed her damaged right arm.
Indigo grimaced. “That’s exactly what I’m worried about. I have guards posted outside the infirmary, but I would like you to take an escort wherever you go, even when you are with your fellow marks. No more running off like that.”
Sayna just nodded. Indigo pointed at the room they’d left behind. “And why were you talking to…”
“I can talk to who I want, you know.” Sayna said, hearing the grumpiness in her tone. “You aren’t my mother.”
“If I were your mother, you’d be scouring barracks and cleaning armor for a year after all the things you’ve done.” Indigo said, tone sharp like a nipping autumn breeze. “But what I was going to say before you interrupted was; why were you talking to the Greeneye prince with no guard?”
Oh.
Sayna rolled her eyes. “Indigo, he’s badly malnourished, it’s obvious. Even in this state, I think I’d be worth more in a fight.”
Which is deeply troubling, considering the fact he wants to fight his sister. And that it might be our only chance.
“Even still, milady.” Indigo crossed her arms. “He is Mossflower’s prisoner, and a princess should not be seeing a prisoner of war with no guards. And in nightclothes, might I add.”
Sayna raised her chin. “What about a queen?”
Indigo cocked an ear. “I’m sorry, milady?”
“If I was a queen, would I have to be constantly watched?”
Indigo sighed. “It would be preferable, yes. But you are not yet a queen.”
Maybe that needs to be changed.
Sayna was shocked by her thoughts. Did she… want to be a queen now? But she’d nearly died for theses creatures, twice. And she’d spent the last several weeks immersing herself in the culture of these lands.
Perhaps it is time for Lukes to be crowned again.
Indigo sighed. “Just… please allow us to protect you. Especially now. You’re recovering from serious injuries, you are, pardon me saying, quite vulnerable.”
Sayna slowly nodded. Indigo probably did have a point in that. So she conceded. “Yeah. Alright.”
Indigo’s long ears shot up. “Really?”
“Yeah.” Sayna indicated her side. “I nearly got myself and two of my friends killed back there. We were all severely injured. So… alright. I guess I might not mind being guarded, especially while I heal.”
Sayna wondered if it was possible for Indigo to look more relieved than she did in that moment. 
“I have one condition.”
Indigo blinked. “Er… what?”
Sayna crossed her arms. “You’re going to extend your protection to Torrin. At least while he’s recovering, you will guard him just as you guard me.”
“Oh.” Indigo nodded, seeming relieved. “Of course milady.”
“And Dancer.” Sayna added. “You’ll have someone protect her until she’s back to normal?”
Indigo preformed a little bow. “Yes milady. At least you’re giving me a doable task. Unlike trying to chase you down when you don’t want to be guarded.”
Sayna rolled her eyes, before recalling she’d already done that once during the conversation. 
“Well, since you’re determined to guard me, take me to Bella. I need to ask her something.”
Indigo shook her head. “I would, but the lady of the house is asleep. She used all her mortal strength to put out the fires in Mossflower.”
Oh.
“I guess you’re going to have to take me to the library then.”
“Alright…” Indigo hesitated. “Dare I ask why?”
“I need a copy of the Codex Roiga.” Sayna stretched her burned arm carefully. “I think I need a good refresher on Mossflowerian law.”
To her credit, Indigo tried. It wasn’t her fault that there simply wasn’t a copy of the codex in the library, at least none they could find. And Sayna tried. She found herself fearing that the copy Gingivere had found in Kotir and the one she’d taken from her father were the only two that existed. 
If so, all that history, all the names of the ancient Luke kings… their stories, legacies, and relation to her… would be lost.
Well, unless the one Gingivere had somehow survived. But to Sayna’s knowledge, his part of the castle of Kotir was the one to be gutted by fire, so she didn’t like its chances. After finally admitting defeat, she allowed Indigo to take her back to the infirmary. As soon as she got there, Sayna crawled into bed, her energy completely expended. 
All for nothing.
She wanted to be out doing something. And yet… she was so very tired.
Sayna woke to a scuffling in her room. She blinked her eyes open, to see Germaine’s tiny helper, Amyl. She held a tray of salve and clean bandages. Ah. So it was time for the daily rigamarole of changing her many dressings.
She sat up with a yawn, and dully let Amyl unbind them.
The burns were getting fainter, soft pink in more places and angry red in less. They were going to scar something awful, though.
“So… um… Brek’s your brother?”
Sayna blinked, then looked down at Ayml, who’d spoken in a tiny voice. She cocked an ear up, saying, “Er… yes? By adoption, but yes.”
Maybe Amyl was confused about Sayna’s family. It was, to be fair, very confusing. 
“What does he like?”
Sayna found herself very confused. “Um. Why?”
“Oh I just…” Amyl fiddled with the bandage. “Wanted to know. Because.”
“Because…?” Sayna pressed.
Amyl smiled to herself, looking nearly bashful. She dipped a cloth in water and began cleaning the burns on Sayna’s arm. “Because I like him.”
“You…” Sayna thought for a moment. “Huh? Aren’t you like… twelve?”
“I’m thirteen.” Said Amyl, primly. She looked like a tiny Germaine when she stuck her nose in the air like that.
“Oh.” Said Sayna. 
When she was thirteen, she’d been riding around the northern woods on Dancer, learning swordplay with Groddil, and punching Roderick in the face as much as she could. She couldn’t imagine liking anyone romantically in those days. 
Unlike the conundrum that faced her now. She shoved those thoughts to the back of her head, asking, “You like Brek? But… I mean, he’s fantastic… but why?”
He’s a fantastic little brother. 
Imagining him having a girlfriend was weird. How old would he be anyway? Fourteen? Fifteen?
Amyl clasped her paws together and sighed, silver eyes shining. “Oh, because he’s so noble. He’s so dedicated, and brave, and so handsome.”
Sayna held in her involuntary snort of amazement. This kit thought Brek was… handsome? While she was no judge of beauty, Sayna had heard Rose bemoan her russet tresses enough to know that orange or red hair wasn’t exactly the standard for conventionally attractive.
“Oh?” She managed, but didn’t say any more for fear of losing her composure. Also, laughing too hard with these burns would hurt.
“I just so want to talk to him, but he’s always busy.” Amyl gazed hopefully up at Sayna. “Can you tell me what he likes, so I can like it too?”
Sayna just let out a tiny laugh, unsure what to do. What a perspective this kit had? She thought she had to change herself? Sayna couldn’t imagine ever wanting to do that… well, not to impress a male, anyway. Becoming smarter was one thing, but spending so much effort on someone else? That sounded exhausting.
“Sooo?” Amyl was still looking hopefully up at her. 
Right, she wanted to know what Brek liked. Sayna opened her mouth, then paused. “I… well… I honestly don’t really know. I know what he used to like, about six years ago. But that was six years ago.”
She met Amyl’s gaze. “You know, you could go ask him.”
“But…” Amyl fiddled with the bandages she was supposed to be wrapping around Sayna’s shoulder. “But what if it turns out we have nothing in common and he never ever likes me back?”
Sayna thought for a moment. Why was she being forced to give relationship advice to a thirteen year old about her own brother? She couldn’t even figure out her own relationships. Yes, she liked Torrin. Saying she didn’t would be stupid, and yet, where to go from here? Maybe if she really worked at it, she could pretend everything was fine, that they were just friends and nothing weird was going on. Sayna knew it was a bad idea, but she didn’t see many other options outside of actually admitting it. And that… that was territory she didn’t understand. 
In war, it was important to scout territory, to know the battlefield. Sayna doubted this would be much different.
“Milady…?” Amyl asked, carefully. 
Oh right. She’d spaced out again. Sayna sighed, looking at the tiny mouse re-binding her arm. “Well, I guess it wouldn’t work anyway, you know? If you have nothing in common. You’d just be putting on an act, and those are hard to maintain.”
Like what I’m planning to do. Lovely.
Sayna tried to avoid thinking about herself. “I mean, it sounds too hard. Trust me, romance won’t work unless both sides honestly feel genuine love for each other.”
She looked down. “You can try to force it, but it’s a disaster, in the end.”
Amyl frowned, but slowly nodded. “I still think Brek is just… dreamy.”
Sayna had a very, very hard time holding in her laugh. She was quite proud of her newfound self-restraint as she said, “Then talk to him. Maybe something’s there… but again, you are thirteen.”
“My mother got married when she was fifteen, you know.” Amyl said, matter-of-factly. Sayna stared. Oh horrors. Amyl shrugged. “So it’s not that crazy, that I’d like him. Didn’t you have crushes?”
Not until now, Ignasa help me.
Maybe that was why she was so very unprepared. Sayna shook her head. “Um… no. No I never did.”
“Oh.” Amyl blinked, as though that was a very interesting yet completely foriegn concept. 
Then she smiled. “Well you like sir Torrin now.”
Sayna stiffened, then asked, “Oh… do I?”
“I saw you, at the festival.” She admitted, tying off a bandage.
And then Sayna recalled a tiny mouse girl who opened the flap of the food tent and saw her teaching Torrin to dance. This tiny mouse girl. Curses.
“I don’t know what you thought you saw,” She blurted. “But I was teaching him to dance. Because he didn’t know how, and wanted to learn.”
Amyl just blinked, and then said in a rather small voice, “Oh.”
She quickly changed the subject. “You know, he’s asking about you. He seemed concerned.”
“He’s awake?” Sayna’s ears pricked forward, unbidden. 
Amyl smiled again, annoyingly knowing. “Yep. I think he’s really hoping you’ll come see him. Cause… um, he asked me to ask you, actually.”
She looked down. “I just… um… I wanted to ask about Brek.”
Sayna rolled her eyes, and sighed. “Are you done?”
She indicated her arm. Amyl nodded, more subdued now. “Yes milady. Just a minute. Oh, and the corporal had some clothes brought up for you. So you wouldn’t have to wear just nightclothes. They’re on the chair by the mirror.”
Amyl finished her bandaging. Sayna stood as the mouse kit took a step back, asking, “Do you want help getting dressed?”
“No. That’s fine.”
The response was ingrained, but as Amyl left, Sayna wondered if that had been a mistake. She struggled to get her tunic off. Her arm and side were terribly stiff, still. It took effort, but she slipped on the blue tunic and gray pants eventually. Then she pulled on the black boots that sat next to her mirror, took one look at herself, and shuddered. 
The bandages on her face had been removed, and the fur on her right cheek was spotty at best. The burn scars overlapped the healing rips across her mouth, creating an eerie effect.
Who am I, to think he would like me?
But he’d seemed to.
That was before I tried to burn my face off.
Sayna took a deep breath, and looked away from the mirror. Then she walked from the room. She slipped out of the curtain, and into the foyer, limping slightly. She still couldn’t bend her knee all the way. 
She stopped in the main room, realizing she didn’t actually know where Torrin was.
Amyl walked by, and Sayna asked, “Um… where is Torrin, right now?”
“In his room. It’s that one.” The tiny mouse indicated a curtain several doors down from Sayna’s own. “And I think you can go in. He wasn’t asleep a few minutes ago.”
Sayna nodded, and limped in that direction. She stopped outside the curtain, asking, “Um… hey. You wanted to see me?”
“Sayna?” His voice responded quickly, still sounding a bit raspy.
“Yeah.” She said, and slipped under the curtain. She might as well get this over with.
Torrin was already sitting up in bed, reading a book. He blinked at her when she walked in. Sayna sighed, touching the side of her face. “I know. I’m a mess.”
“No… well… at least you can walk.” He said, smirking a little.
Sayna blinked. Then she limped over, grimacing. “A little.”
She sat on a stool already near his bed, placing her chin in her paw and looking down. “I’m sorry.”
“What for?’ His response made her look up, questioningly.
He closed his book, asking, “Oh, for the injuries? That’s a calculated risk of our profession, you know.”
Sayna blinked, then shook her head. “Still. I should have been more careful.”
“You.” He said, raising an eyebrow. “Careful?”
“So I take it that’s a sentence you never imagined me saying.”
Torrin nodded. “Yeah, not really.”
“We almost died.” Sayna folded her paws. “I understand, we’re warriors, that’s kind of what we do. But we’re also two of the marks. We have a duty to this land, one I’ve hid from long enough.”
She sucked in a breath, running her paws through her hair and feeling the shorn side, prickly and stiff. She stared at the floor as she said, “If we died, I don’t know what would happen. I would be leaving my brother and sister to face the Greeneyes alone, and…”
“Mossflower would fall.” Torrin said, gravely. “Four are not one when two are gone.”
Sayna snapped her head up, blinking. Torrin smirked. “I’ve read the prophecy, you know. I studied it extensively, actually. How could I not, when I bore the mark of the leaf?”
Sayna nodded. She’d felt that way too.
She tried to remember what she had planned to say, but she couldn’t quite think of it. So she just said, “We… I… must do what I should have been doing all this time. What I ran from all this time.”
She smirked, though there was very little mirth in it. “When I was little I wanted a kingdom, one to adore me. I found out how hard leading was… yes, there was adoration when things went well, and hate when they didn’t. I ran. I abandoned this. And after six wasted years, I’ve come full circle.”
Sayna groaned. “Sorry. I don’t know why I’m telling you any of this. I was going to say something about marks or the prophecy, and I got sidetracked. I’m an idiot.”
“You are better than him.” Torrin said it softly, almost with relief.
She looked up, and he smiled. “But then, I’ve known that for awhile.”
Sayna frowned, asking, “What… are you talking about?”
“Oh. Your father. You are better than your father.” Torrin clarified. “Ever since you rescued me, I’ve been observing you and Tynek, trying to decide for sure.”
“Um.” Sayna cocked her head. “Ok?”
Torrin grimaced. “That probably sounds creepy. Sorry. I just… Lucius. He left scars wherever he went, and I wanted to be cautious. I don’t know what I would have done if my hopes were incorrect, but I wanted proof either way, you know?”
Oh. Well, that did make sense. She raised an eyebrow. “Is that why you spent time with me? To discern my sanity?”
“At first.” He admitted. “I mean, I wanted to make up my own mind on who you and your brother really were. He was hard to talk to. And he still is. But you… well.”
“I played along, huh?’
Torrin held up a paw. “It’s not like I wasn’t genuinely interested in who you were. Lucius just… did some things. Things I’ll never forget. I didn’t want to judge you for your father, I wanted to see for myself.”
He smiled, a truly genuine one. “I always heard stories of how grand Lukes could be. And I think I understand how they came to be, now.”
Sayna just blinked. Torrin sighed. “Sorry if that seemed harsh.”
“No… it’s very smart of you actually, it’s just…”
I thought… he was interested in me. Stupid. Why would anyone be interested in me like that?
In her silence, Torrin said, “I’ve grown to genuinely like you and your brother. Don’t think I’m spending time with you for research anymore.”
Sayna looked at him for a moment, unsure of what to do. 
But… what happened at the festival… that wasn’t research. He cannot convince me that was just research. There was something…
The voice in her head was ever practical. 
Maybe you’re the only one who felt it.
Had she, in an ironic twist of fate, been sentenced to live Gruvan’s part of their relationship? It would be a fitting punishment. Falling for someone who would never catch her.
It’s better this way and you know it.
“Are you mad?” Torrin asked. “I figured… since we’ve basically faced death together and lived… I should be honest. And I hope we can still be friends… I never disliked you, just so you know. I just didn’t want…”
He looked away. “Well I didn’t want what happened to my father to happen to me.”
Sayna sighed. “I’m not mad. You have every right to… be cautious when it comes to me.”
I’m dangerous. I nearly let myself forget that, these last few weeks.
She forced herself to smile. “And… you haven’t been a bad friend at all.”
She was the one who wore that title. She was the reason he couldn’t get out of bed, and was probably in constant pain, if her own burns were any indicator.
Torrin gave her a rather skeptical look, then nodded. “I feel like you’re not telling me something. You know you can be upset, right?”
I’m not upset, I’m confused!
Sayna just shook her head. “It’s alright. I’ll… er… I’ll let you rest. Not because I’m mad or anything weird like that. Just cause I know how tiring these injuries are.”
She stood, wincing at the stiffness in her side and leg. She was tired, she truly was. Thoughts swam through her mind and muddled together, making it difficult to think of anything to say. At least, anything intelligent.
Sayna limped out of his room, and Torrin didn’t protest. She was glad of that. Her own mind wanted to absorb her consciousness, and she wanted to curl up somewhere comfortable to let it.
He hadn’t done anything wrong, in fact he’d done something very right.
But she’d thought he liked her. Did he like her? And she’d begun to like him back.
Sayna walked back into her room and crawled into bed. Nothing had changed between them. She just wasn’t sure how to proceed. Maybe she should just go back to her original plan of pretending romance wasn’t a factor in this relationship.
Maybe it wasn’t.
But some of the things he’d said, and the looks he’d given her… was she just reading this all wrong?
Honestly, that would be very easy for her to do.
“Ugnh!” Sayna scowled and curled up, pulling her pillow over her head. None of that mattered. She needed to focus on the offer Gingivere had made. The moment Bella was awake, Sayna decided she was going to ask about it. 
==Chapter 46 A Prince and Princess==
“No!”
Sayna was startled awake by a yell. 
“I won’t have it! Not after everything, I won’t!”
“There’s nothing I can do.” That sounded like Bella. And was the other voice Brek’s?
Sayna pushed the pillow off her head, and slid out of bed, noting she still wore her clothes. She walked to the curtain door, and pulled it open. Bella sat on a chair, sipping tea, Germaine nearby. And Brek stood before them, legs braced and paws clenched. Sayna blinked.
Brek looked up at her, before straightening up and gesturing at the two Prophets. “Sayna! Tell them they can’t do this!”
Sayna frowned, looked at the two ladies, and then asked, “Tell them they can’t do what?”
“They want to execute my prince!”
Germaine interrupted. “Did I ever say that, young Voh?”
“Well you said you wouldn’t stop it!” Brek snapped.
Germaine rolled her eyes, leaning primly back in her chair. “Correction, I said I couldn’t stop it.”
Bella cleared her throat, sighing, “Brek. We will give him a trial. That is better than his kingdom would do for any of us.”
“A mock trial!” Brek growled. “Which one of you wants to defend the Greeneye Prince, tell me that! So what will you do, have a bunch of creatures talk about how awful his father was, and then kill him? Is that what you’re planning? Because I won’t have it!”
Bella opened her mouth, but Brek glared her down. “I’ll be his defence.”
“Young Voh,” Germaine said, “You realize how bad that will make you appear to Mossflower, don’t you?”
“I don’t care! Sayna, you…”
“Your sister can’t save your prince, or you if you choose to throw your lot in with him.” Bella spoke before Sayna could even attempt a response.
The room fell silent, and Sayna felt her mind reeling as Bella massaged her temples. “Everything in Mossflower is done by majority vote of the four… well, however many leaders we have at the time. Each court has a king, queen, or both, and we come together to determine the overarching decisions of Mossflower.”
Brek slowly relaxed his clenched paws, stammering, “Yes… I know that..”
“This Greeneye Prince’s fate will be decided by all of us. You cannot rely on Sayna to save him, she is incapable of it alone. Besides. She isn’t even a true queen yet.”
Isn’t even a queen…
“Then crown me.” She blurted, before thinking. Would Mossflower harm Brek too? She’d just gotten him back!
Both Bella and Germaine blinked at her, but Brek looked pleased. Sayna lifted her chin. “I have visited the courts, sat through trials and meetings, and risked my life twice for Mossflower. I swore my sword to you before hundreds. I am ready to take my throne in full.”
Germaine clapped once, before Bella gave her a look. The raccoon lady groaned, “You decide this now? And for a Greeneyes, of all things?”
“That’s not the only reason.” Sayna set her jaw. “The court of mice needs its king and queen to survive the coming days.”
Bella relaxed a little. “Well, I can agree whole-heartedly with that. But firstly, you being queen mostly changes the workings of your own court. It will give you only marginally more power on the council than you have already. And secondly, our meeting is three days from now. I’d need at least a week to plan you a corniation. Ignasa above, crowns will need to be made, your noble houses informed and invited, as well as some sort of event. Even if it isn’t the size of a normal coronation.”
Sayna glanced at Brek, then to Bella. “Will you really kill Gingivere?”
“I do not know, Sayna. I have said this before. This is not my choice alone.”
Sayna thought of Amber, and she shuddered. Argulor and Warthorn weren’t too inclined toward a Greeneyes. And though Bella didn’t outright voice her opinion, Sayna could see her mistrust and dislike, hiding just behind her eyes. Tynek, too, had ample reason to despise Verdauga’s son. Everyone did, if only for the acts of his father.
She looked at Brek, knowing that she must look as worried as she felt.
After a moment, Brek sucked in a breath. “I better get to work then.”
“Brek..” Sayna began, but he shot her a glare. 
“I’m going to defend him.”
“You are a Prophet!” Bella protested.
Brek lifted his chin, eyes alight. “And I swore my sword to Gingivere. What a Prophet binds, Ignasa binds, and may he forbid that it break.”
Sayna just stared after him as he stormed off, disappearing beyond the curtain of a room.
Bella rubbed her face, right below her eyes. “I came here to ask him if he wanted to learn magic from me. But he wants to throw his life away.”
Sayna turned on Bella, snapping, “They wouldn’t dare kill him!”
Bella gave her a dull glare. “If he swears his loyalty to Mossflower’s greatest enemy, he is as much a traitor as his father.”
Sayna glanced around, but mercifully for him, Urran wasn’t in the room. 
She looked back to Bella and attempted crossing her arms, but the one was too stiff. She ended up putting her paws on her hips. “Why would you call him Mossflower’s greatest enemy? What has he done to us besides good?”
“In and of himself?” Bella snapped, standing in a swift movement. “Nothing. But he still holds the favor of the Greeneye armies and citizens, I’ve been told as much. They still see him as rightful heir. But to us he is heir of nothing. His throne is the one his father stole from you, Sayna. Don’t forget that. I wouldn’t go getting attached to him. He’s a prisoner of war, and wars are ugly things. You know it as much as anyone.”
She drew in a deep breath. “Let’s say he was somehow spared. What then? Where would he go? There is no place for him here, and there is no place for him in the Greeneye kingdom. Yes, I can almost pity him, but then… I remember…”
Bella clenched both paws and growled, “Ignasa help me.”
She stormed off, slamming the infirmary door shut behind her. Sayna and Germaine were silent in the wake of her departure, at least for several minutes. 
“He killed her son, you know.”
Sayna blinked and looked to Germaine. “What?”
Germaine sagely blinked, sipping her tea. “Verdauga. He killed her son, but five years old. This is a hard thing for her. She is doing her best to remain open.”
Sayna groaned, and Germaine continued. “Young queen, I hope you understand how right she is. Outside of my infirmary, he really has no place among us. I suppose I could take him in like I did your father, but I doubt they would ever let me.”
Slowly, Sayna walked to sit in the chair Bella had abandoned. “Why would you? Don’t you hate him too?”
“Judge not the kits for what their nightmares of parents have created.” Germaine floated a cup into Sayna’s paws, then used her telekinesis to pour her some tea. “But it is not so hard for me. I only lost my husband in that attack. And my parents, I suppose.”
“You… didn’t like them much, I take it?” Sayna took a sip of the tea, warm and spicy. 
Germaine shrugged, idaly swinging her legs. “I liked them passibly. As much as one can like an arranged marriage and parents who never understood my fascination with corpses and sickness. Creepy, they called me. They said settling down would fix me.”
She smirked. “Never did seem to do the trick though.”
Sayna blinked. That was oddly relatable. She heaved a sigh. “What should I do? Brek’s my brother. I can’t let him do this alone.”
“Well.” Germaine poured herself more tea. “I find my life goes best when I do what Ignasa leads me to, regardless of popularity.”
Sayna just stared into her tea, before downing the contents in a single, long gulp and standing. She set her teacup on the table with Germaine’s teapot, before glancing back at the older mouse. She wore a serene smile, and sipped at tea she held delicately between her thumb and forclaw. Sayna smirked softly, and nodded to herself. “Thanks.”
Then she limped off in the direction of Gingivere’s door.
><><
Brek folded his paws, hanging his head. “And that’s that. Sayna can’t even do that much. And I don’t know if she really wants to even if she could.”
He closed his eyes. “I’m sorry.”
Gingivere sounded exhausted. “This isn’t your fault, Brek. I’m not angry with you.”
“You’re…” Brek paused, before asking, “Angry with someone?”
It was always hard to tell with Gingivere. The prince said nothing for a moment, then clenched a still trembling paw. “Of course I am. How could I not be? How could I honestly not despise Tsarmina at this point? And my father for that matter?”
He gritted his teeth. “I have to appear unfazed to these creatures, you understand that. If I show them weakness… well I don’t get the idea that begging for my life will impress them. They must see me as strong even if I’m broken.”
Brek just nodded. “I’m going to be your defence.”
There was a long moment of silence, and Gingivere at last said, “Brek… if they find me unfit to live; which let us be honest, they likely will… you will have thrown away any chance of living a normal life here. Even if they do spare you.”
“When I left the north with you…” Brek sucked in a shaky breath. “I made that choice. I’m no more of a woodlander than you are.”
He rubbed his forehead. “I’ve… been thinking about it. Trying to remember… home, you know? But I don’t think of Evenglade anymore. I think of Kotir, of Redfarl, Garavel, Whegg, and you. This is my home, you are my prince, even if you are prince of nothing. I have no place outside of what we all made, and yes, if I abandoned you, these Mossflowerians might take me in.”
Brek could feel the tears in his eyes, and he rubbed the back of his paw across them, biting his lip. He’d known this for awhile, but saying it… saying it made everything so much more real.
“But I’m not one of them anymore. I’ll never be able to live as a normal woodlander, concerned with normal things like farming. When I left I never knew how much Kotir would change me, but it has and… I… Gingivere, I’m as much an outcast as you. I grew up with you and Whegg. I can’t even remember how it felt to be a woodlander!”
A large, bony paw was laid on his shoulder, and Gingivere whispered, “I should have never let you come with me. I stole your identity, didn’t I?”
His paw fell away as he wrapped both around himself, his voice bitter. “Because that’s what the Greeneyes do.”
“No.” Brek sucked in a breath. “No, my father would have stolen my identity. He would have tried to make his dreams mine.”
He curled up a little tighter on his chair, and he tried to smile. “You let me find who I was. And this is who I am. I wouldn’t want anything else. If I die… if I die… it will have been worth it.”
Die. 
He actually might. 
“Oh com’n now.” 
Brek jumped as the curtain rustled, and Sandingomm strode in, pulling up a chair next to Gingivere’s bed opposite where Brek sat. “Why’re we talkin’ bout dyin’? Neither a ya is gonna die. I told ya.”
“Sandingomm.” Gingivere asked gravely, “How accurate is a vision you had six years ago?”
She huffed. “Look. I see a string a pictures when I do this. An’ the longer a creature’s gonna live, the more I see. Alright? Now I saw a lot more pictures than jist six years fer ya, ok? If’n ya was gonna die so soon, I’da seen a few key snippets, an’ then blackness. I had ta pull free a ya before that happened.”
Gingivere sighed. Brek wasn’t sure what to think of Sandingomm’s odd powers. She claimed they’d never been wrong before, but was that even possible?
She sighed. “If it’d make ya feel better, I kin do it again.”
“Er… that’s alright.” Gingivere held up his paws. “I’d rather not put you through that again.”
“Though what again?” Sandingomm cocked her head.
Brek stared. She didn’t remember how she’d gone into that creepy trance the last time she read Gingivere? She suddenly seemed to. “Oh! Ah… um… that was me own fault. I panicked, heh. Visions suck me in if I git too… erm… invested in a part of ‘em.”
Gingivere just looked confused, but he nodded. 
The curtain behind Brek rustled, and he spun around to see Sayna limp in, looking determined. She sighed, saying, “I hope you all know how much trouble I’m going to get in for this.”
Brek blinked in amazement as she looked straight at him. “Well Brek? Let’s make a defence.” 
Brek felt his grin as it spread across his face. Sayna looked around, saying, “It looks like we’re out of chairs. I’ll get the one in my room. Then I’ll make Indigo take me to the library again.”
“I’ll help you!” Brek said quickly. He gestured to her bandages. “Because… you know. Your burns.”
She nodded. “That’d be great.”
Brek looked at Gingivere, to find he just stared at Sayna in amazement. “Your majesty… you would do this thing for me?”
“Well as far as I can see, no one can tell me what you’ve done wrong. We can all quote your father’s crimes endlessly yes, but not one creature can give me any solid reason you should have to die.”
She rolled her eyes. “Well, outside of the fact it’s convenient and apparently what the majority favors. Which again has nothing to do with you and everything to do with your father.”
Gingivere blinked. Brek grinned wider. This was why Sayna had always been his favorite sister. Rose was nice, of course she was. But at times she was too nice. Salley… Sayna, she did things, regardless of how nice they were.
Sandingomm raised a paw. “I’d like ta help. I’m probably gonna need ta be a witness anyway. So I’d like ta know somethin bout the laws an… stuff.”
Sayna nodded. “Alright.”
Brek jumped off his chair. “Witnesses! We’ve gotta git Whegg.”
“Gina might be helpful in that ta, ya know.” Sandingomm pointed out.
Brek nodded. “And Redfarl, and Embrien. I don’t know if they’d listen to Garavel or not, since she’s a vermin…”
“Bring her anyway.” Sayna said, voice tense. “We need everyone we can get. I’ll make Tynek testify with me, even if I have to drag him all the way.”
Brek made a spontaneous face, and Sayna shot him a look. “The prince saved him from Verdauga the same as me. You know that.”
“Yeah.” Brek admitted, though he didn’t particularly want to.
He still didn’t like Tynek. But if Sayna could make him be useful… well. Brek supposed that was fine.
Sayna nodded. “If I got you to the library, Brek, could you find the books on laws you need? I’ll inform witnesses as I’m freer to walk around. Or at very least, I’ll garner less attention.”
“Of course!” Brek said, barely able to believe his good fortune. 
Sandingomm settled down on her chair, saying, “I think I’ll stay here.”
Then she turned to Gingivere. “So ya studied these nations? What’da ya know?”
“Come on.” Sayna said, and Brek nodded, following her. Her strides might be longer than his, but they were nothing compared to Gingivere’s. Not to mention, she was still limping. Bek kept up with ease.
They walked past Germaine, mixing herbs on her counter with Urran’s help. Sayna nodded to him, but Brek looked away. He wasn’t ready to forgive his father, not yet. He knew he should do it before this trial, in case he didn’t survive. But no matter how long or hard he prayed, he couldn’t make himself say the words.
Sayna opened the outer door of the infirmary, looking out at the rabbit and squirrel who stood guard outside it. “Hey. Do you know where Indigo is?”
The squirrel shrugged, and Brek blinked at his strange accent. He’d never heard anyone speak like that before.
“I doest not know for certain. Mayhaps she ist managing the guards outside Brockhall?”
Sayna scrunched up her nose, then sighed. “That figures. Well I guess you’re going to come with me while I talk to creatures. Well… one of you is, anyway.”
“Er, milady.” Brek looked to the rabbit as he spoke. “We are to guard this doorway, see? Together and all…”
“Fine. I’ll go by myself.”
Brek smirked. Sayna was awesome.
The rabbit shook his head. “No… no, don’t go and do that. Fiske, you go with them, alright?”
The squirrel nodded. Sayna smiled, and Brek blinked. She didn’t used to do that much. She dipped her head. “Thanks. I’ll make sure Indigo doesn’t trouble you for this.”
The rabbit looked considerably more comfortable after that. Sayna limped off down the hall, and Brek followed, the squirrel called Fiske bringing up the rear. Brek trotted to Sayna’s side, before asking, “Do you know what became of my sword?”
“You have a sword?” She asked, sounding interested. Then she nodded to herself. “Right, you had that glowing one in Kotir.”
She frowned at him for a moment, then asked, “Hey… so… how did you do that? You know, the fire thing?”
Brek cocked his head, and then shrugged. “I’m not sure. I was panicking, you’d just broken a sealed dungeon wall in. I… just ask Ignasa to protect me, and it happened.”
Come to think of it, he should really practice that more.
If he lived of course.
It hadn’t been like turning invisible or teleportation. To do those he’d vividly imagined each step, the magic stretching over him like a sheet, or the place he wanted to appear in. But with the sword… it had been much more instinctual. There’d been a lot less of his own thought process and a lot more of Ignasa being… well, Ignasa.
“Anyway.” Sayna sighed. “We’re here.”
She pointed to a set of stunning, iron bound doors. “That’s the library. I’ll be back for you after I gather all the witnesses I can. You find whatever information might be helpful for your case.”
“Right.” Brek said, crisply. 
Then he blinked. Sayna had gotten good at giving orders. For a moment, she’d almost made him forget it wasn’t Gingivere’s directions he was listening to.
She waved a paw at their squirrel guard. “Come.”
Fiske looked at Brek for a moment, and then followed Sayna down another hallway without a word. 
Brek took a deep breath, then opened one of the library doors just enough to slip inside. 
He walked slowly forward, looking up. And he had to crane his head back too. 
The ceiling was covered in wavering blue water, a sheet of it that probably would have been just deep enough to come to his ankles… if of course, it was on the ground like water arguably should be. Brek found it a little unpleasant, to think of a ceiling-full of water suspended over all these books and scrolls.
They sat on shelves that stretched floor to ceiling, though Brek noticed that the very top shelves, the ones submerged in the ceiling pond, were all empty. 
A good course of action, no doubt.
He looked around for a few minutes, just staring blankly. There were a lot of books here, even more than in Gingivere’s library. He sighed, and walked to the nearest wall shelf. Helpfully, they were labeled, both in the old script and new.
It took about five minutes, but he at last found the one that held all the books of laws. Even that was massive, filling an entire section of bookcase. Each shelf was labeled by dynesty and age.
Brek found himself admiring Bella’s organization skills, even if he still wanted to be mad at her. 
The lower shelves, the ones his height, were empty. And about seven feet up, were the current books, placed conveniently for Bella, of course.
Brek sighed, and glared at the books, trying to will them to float down to him like Germaine floated her teapot around. Nothing happened. He groaned. What was he doing wrong? He looked around, and spotted a ladder a few shelves over.
However, it was a Bella-sized ladder. On wheels or no, Brek simply could not push it.
He returned to the shelf with the books he needed, and stared blankly up at them. All Prophets could use telekinesis, right? So why couldn’t he?
A part of him did long to take Bella’s offer of training. He couldn’t say otherwise. 
I will not abandon my Prince.
Brek sighed, and imagined how easy it would be if he had telekeneisis. The books would just float down through the air and into his paws, and this would be so much easier.
They did.
But they didn’t float.
Brek squeaked as nearly the full shelf of books disappeared from their perch and reappeared over his head. 
“Agghe!”
Brek crumpled to the ground as the heavy tomes all fell on him at once. They smashed into the stone floor in a crescendo of folding papers and bangs of covers on rock. Not a few hit Brek on the way down, and one caught him square in the face. 
He lay amid the wreckage, tears of pain springing into his eyes at how bad that hurt. Brek slowly dragged himself up until he was sitting, knowing that he’d have bruises from this.
What just happened? Had he teleported an entire shelf’s worth of books into the air above his head?
It at very least seemed that way.
Dust was everywhere, and Brek coughed as it began to settle. Books lay strewn about him, bindings bent or cracked, and parchment pages creased or folded. He gulped. This was not a way to earn Bella’s favor, not for him or his prince. 
He began collecting the books into a neat stack, attempting to smooth out their pages. None of them had split entirely in two, and that brought him relief. Once he’d arranged the books so they didn’t look a complete mess, he dragged himself to the bookcase he sat in front of. Brek carefully leaned against it, selected a book from the stacks he’d made, and tried to read to block out his discomfort. 
This would take awhile.
An undetermined amount of time later, Sayna peeked in through the doors. Brek looked up as she limped over to him, a blue gray rabbit in her wake. Brek saw no sign of the squirrel guard, but this new rabbit looked… disgruntled.
“Did you find anything?” Sayna asked.
“A little.” Brek said with a sigh, and he carefully stood. 
Sayna noticed. “Are you alright?”
“Yes I…” Brek paused. He’d really rather not tell her about his mishap. It wasn’t dignified or the least bit cool. So he shrugged. “I was really getting to know the books. You know. My legs went to sleep and all.”
“Ah.” Sayna nodded in understanding. “Did you find anything?”
Brek smiled. “Yeah. These three.” 
He pointed to a stack he’d made. 
Sayna looked to the rabbit. “Can you carry those for us, Indigo?”
She rolled her eyes, but wordlessly complied. Sayna looked… almost surprised at the lack of resistance. She looked at the books on the floor. “Are you going to put those back or…”
“I’ll deal with it.” Indigo grumbled. “Let’s just get you back to bed where you belong.”
Come to think of it, Sayna did look weary, with the way her tail dragged on the floor when she walked and her ears drooped slightly.
Brek said nothing, and walked behind Sayna and Indigo as they made their way back to the infirmary. He did his best to show no pain for his many, dully aching bruises.
The next three days flew by, far too quickly.
Brek did his best, but he knew he wasn’t prepared. His best defence was the fact he didn’t believe anyone had actual evidence against Gingivere himself. And the fact that he had a lot of evidence in Gingivere’s favor. 
His witnesses were the strongest piece of this case. Redfarl had insisted on going first, and Sandingomm had demanded to be given the position of witnessing last. Something about not liking being in the middle, but Brek was too busy to honestly care. He’d agreed to her rather persistent request.
Germaine had grumbled about letting Gingivere out of bed, though Brek wasn’t sure why she bothered. This could be the end of both he and his prince. He tried to think of Sandingomm’s prophecy and remain hopeful. He tried to think of Ignasa. 
It was hard. 
And when he walked into a full meeting glade to the jeers of a barely contained crowd, it was harder. He kept his head high and his back straight as he walked beside Gingivere.
Brek glanced up at him, instead of at the bared teeth and hateful glares of most of Mossflower.
Gingivere leaned on a staff, but he walked on his own. Though he was unnaturally skinny, he kept himself straight as best he could. Brek hoped that one day, he could be as brave and smart as his prince. If Gingivere died tonight, the world lost a truly wise creature.
I will not let that happen.
Brek set his gaze on the occupied thrones of Mossflower, a half circle at the heart of this forest clearing. Sayna sat there, beside Tynek, her physical copy. Rose stood beside him, looking worriedly down at Brek. Brek wouldn’t meet her gaze. She hadn’t agreed with his protests to Tynek, she’d defended him. Of course she had.
The halfblood he vaguely knew to be Torrin stood at Sayna’s side, and she seemed fine with it, though Brek found it a little… odd. He wasn’t sure why.
The phoenix lord perched on the back of his throne, the otterking sat stiff and proper, Bella leaned tiredly in her throne, and the squirrelqueen ground her teeth as she glared pure, unfiltered loathing at Gingivere.
Brek took a deep breath, and looked up at his prince. Then he nodded. 
They were ringed by otters and some of Sayna’s rabbits, which Brek didn’t totally mind, considering how murderous some in the crowd looked. At least the gray rabbit called Indigo was decent enough to pull up a stool for Gingivere so he didn’t have to stand the entire trial. Despite his claims of planning to show strength, he sat with a certain level of relief in his eyes.
All things in place, the crowd hushed, and the air practically dripped with anticipation. 
Bella sat up fully, silken skirt shifting around her legs. “If the council is assembled, our meeting will commence.”
No complaints were voiced. Bella drew in a breath that seemed to last forever. At last she said, “We have come to decide the fate of Prince Gingivere Greeneyes, by trial.”
“Guilty!” the squirrelqueen yelled, sharp voice cutting through the clearing, and plenty in the crowd called out their agreement. 
Brek winced. Would he even be allowed to make his case?
But the otterking turned on the squirrelqueen, fangs bared. “Be silent for once in your life, Amber. You’re only making this take longer.”
Amber curled her lip at him, but didn’t protest more. Bella rubbed a paw down her face, and then straightened her back. “We all know what the Greeneyes have done. But we are here to examine this particular Greeneyes, and we are going to do it properly. Now. Will the defence state his case?”
The crowd looked to Gingivere. Brek gulped, lifted his chin, and walked into the half circle of thrones. 
The silence didn’t last long. 
“What is this?” Amber yelled, turning on Bella. 
“He…” Bella said, clearly and calmly, “Is the defence.”
Brek saw Rose clap both paws to her mouth. Tynek’s eyes widened a little, but other than that, he remained impassive. Sayna wore a grim expression, and Torrin did too. She must have told him, Brek realized.
“That’s a Voh!”
Someone from the crowd shrieked it. 
The opinions rolled in quickly after that. 
“Traitor!”
“Scum!”
“He’s as bad as his father!”
“Silence!”
Brek jumped at the vertible roar that rose above the clamor. He turned to the leaders, to see Bella sitting back down, rubbing her neck. She cleared her throat. “Now. We are going to have a trial. As high judge, I will have none of this disorder. Either act civilized or go home.”
She heavily emphasized that last bit.
The crowd quieted to discontent murmurs.
Bella looked into Brek’s eyes and gravely dipped her head. “Brek Voh, state your case.”
Brek’s paws were shaking, he could feel it. He silently begged Ingasa for strength as he breathed in, recalling Tsarmina’s fury, or Verdauga’s calloused cruelty. He’d faced this level of opposition before.
He could do it now.
And then he was speaking, before he rightly considered it.
“Noble lords and ladies of Mossflower, I thank you for hearing me. I speak in defence of my Prince, Gingivere.”
He almost said ‘Greeneyes’ but something held him back. Brek cleared his throat. 
“What does Mossflower accuse him of?”
This was the risky bit. Shouts rose spontaneously, clashing over one another in the maddened roar of a wounded beast, one that had been given time to lick its wounds and learn to hate.
“He’s killed thousands of us! More even!” 
“Murderer!”
“They stole our lands!”
“My kits died at their paws!”
“Villain!”
“Slaver!”
“He’s filth, like they all are!”
Brek braced himself against the verbal onslaught, trying to keep his head high through it all. In that moment he understood how tiny he truly was, and even living among creatures as massive as cats had not prepared him.
He was the flame of a candle in the face of a towering wave of black water. He was one spark of truth in an endless pit of lies.
Nothing. You are nothing.
Brek steeled himself against that thought. Ignasa hadn’t thought so. Ignasa had given him power beyond that of mortals.
“Those are the crimes of his father!”
Brek screamed it into that wave, into that endless pit. He shouldn’t have been heard, he should have been lost in the fury of those who had suffered so much, who hated the Greeneyes so deeply that they ignored justice.
But he was heard.
His cry rang over the clamor and chaos, somehow louder than all of it. Brek blinked his eyes open, to see he floated several feet off the ground, blue swirling around him. The crowd had fallen silent, most gaping at him in awe, and all in disbelief.
Brek sucked in a breath, and imagined he stood where he had before. His vision flickered like a dancing flame, and then he did, boots braced against the ground. 
He straightened up, taking a second to collect himself. Then he pushed onward, taking advantage of the shock. “These things you name against Gingivere, these things are what his father has done. He is none of them, and he has done none of them. He has killed no kits, he has led no conquest. He…”
“Liar!” Amber leapt up from her throne. “He inherited his father’s throne! That makes him…”
“He did not!” Brek turned on her, teeth clenched. “He never inherited the Greeneye throne. His sister holds that title.”
Amber just blinked, as if she somehow hadn’t considered that.
Brek folded his paws. “My prince has saved woodlanders and protected them. He has long studied what pieces of Mossflowerian literature he could find, for the sole purpose of one day ending the Greeneye tyranny from within. We do understand that his throne means nothing here. But in the Greeneye kingdom itself, he was writing laws for more protection for slaves, and hoped to one day abolish the practice altogether.”
He had to breathe. He had to stop and breathe. Brek gasped in a breath and pushed onward. “Prince Gingivere has, to my knowledge, never slain a single woodlander! And he has saved several from terrible fates. He does not hold to or agree with the laws set by his father!”
Brek gasped in breaths, a paw to his chest, and he knew his eyes must be blazing. “Why else would a mouse defend him?”
“You’re a traitor!”
That was Amber. Brek tried to ignore her, and noticed that everyone else seemed too as well. Murmurs rang through the crowd as Brek straightened up. “I have many witnesses of this, all credible. Some, I think, will surprise you by how credible they are. That being said, I call Princess Redfarl of the squirrels as my first witness.”
Brek thought he had heard Amber’s enraged voice, but he was wrong. She’d been whispering compared to the amount of livid malice that now permeated her shriek. “What?”
She jumped up, and Bella held out a quick paw, swirls of blue appearing around Amber’s waist and dragging her back into her throne. Amber thrashed against it, snarling, “Take your magic off me, witch!”
The otterking leapt up, towering over his fellow leader. “Every time you open your mouth, it’s worse than the last! Stop this!”
“Warthorn.” Bella sighed. “You’re making no less of a spectacle.”
Warthorn slowly withdrew to his chair, sighing deeply. “I apologize.”
Brek turned back to what was happening in the half circle of thrones instead of what was on them as a paw was laid on his arm. It was Redfarl, a taller red squirrel with straight hair to his shoulders by her side.
Brek saw her lip tremble. He could feel her paw shaking. He had never seen her like this, not since Gingivere had taken her in.
But that second of truth passed, and Redfarl walked a little passed Brek, lifting her chin. The red squirrel stuck to her side like his clothes were sewn to hers. He almost seemed… protective.
Amber stopped kicking against Bella’s magic, and glared at Redfarl with unmatched fury. “You were not supposed to come here. Birch! Take her back to Hran-forais, now!”
Redfarl’s taller companion pinned his ears for a moment, and then clenched his teeth, speaking through them. “That will not be possible, milady.”
“Birch!” Amber roared. 
Redfarl took a deep breath, saying, “I will testify, Brek.”
Amber struggled against Bella’s magic again, spitting at Redfarl. “Traitor!”
Redfarl looked like she was holding herself together by the thinnest of threads, like she only just kept her tears at bay. “I will speak only truth. That is all a worthy princess can do.”
Brek wanted to hug her, like she’d done so many times for him. When he felt lost, she’d encouraged him. She glanced at him, eyes glimmering in the sunset. Then she faced the leaders. “Without Gingivere, I would be dead. I owe him my life, and no matter what, I owe him this.”
“You are no daughter of mine!”
Brek winced at Amber’s rabid yell. Redfarl turned to Amber, drew in a breath, and said. “So be it.”
Amber honestly looked like she might explode, but eerily, when she spoke, she wasn’t yelling anymore. “Then you can forget coming back to the castle tonight. In fact, I never want to see you on my land again.”
Redfarl stiffened, but Birch laid a paw on her shoulder. Amber turned her livid gaze on him. “You too Birch, you traitor.”
Birch bowed stiffly, so stiffly Brek wondered if he might break in half. “As milady demands, it shall be.”
Brek glanced at Gingivere, to see he had his head in his paws. 
Bella rubbed her forehead. She did that a lot. “Amber. This is a grievous overreaction.”
“What do you have to hide?” Warthorn turned on her. “No, I don’t particularly want to hear praises for this Greeneyes, but I value the truth. Something you clearly care nothing about.”
“I…” Amber sputtered. “I’m hiding nothing! She’s disgracing my name!”
Warthorn put on the best patronizing, slightly murderous grin that Brek had ever seen. “Oh. She doesn’t need to when you do such a good job of that yourself.”
Sayna had been sitting in near complete silence until this moment, when she snickered.
“Order!” Bella commanded. “Insults will be reserved for after my court is concluded, or did you forget this was a trial?”
She turned deeply regretful brown eyes to Redfarl. “You may speak.”
Brek drew in a breath, since he’d forgotten to. Redfarl had tears in her eyes, and in her voice, but she continued on. “As I said, Gingivere saved my life. When I was enslaved, I was assigned to serve … Tsarmina. The princess.”
She looked down. Brek knew she hated thinking about Tsarmina.
“She beat me every day, at every tiny mistake I made, and sometimes when I’d made none at all. She denied all her slaves food most of the time, and actively tortured some of us if she was angry at her father. I finally ran away, and I hid in the stables, since I was too weak to do much else.”
She turned to Brek, a tiny smile on her face. “That was when Brek found me.”
Redfarl wiped a tear from her eyes, saying, “He told his prince about me. Gingivere had long been trying to prove how abusive to slaves Tsarmina really was, and he spoke for me. Verdauga gave me to him. I feared I would suffer a worse fate than even Tsarmina had planned for me.”
She glanced back to Gingivere, and Brek did too. He sat there, just blinking. Redfarl smiled. 
“But that didn’t happen. Gingivere had healers take care of me until I was well, and then gave me simple tasks in his part of the castle. He never beat me if I dropped his tea or forgot to sweep part of his library. He just told me to fix the problem and honestly trusted me to.”
Brek smiled at how surprised Gingivere actually looked. Maybe he’d thought Redfarl wouldn’t be a strong witness, but Brek had been able to guess.
Redfarl turned to the council members, crossing her arms. “I always had plenty to eat and good clothes to wear. Heavens, I even had a bed to sleep in. Tsarmina made me sleep on the floor like I was feral. Gingivere never did that. We even talked sometimes, a little. I’d tell him good morning and things, and he’d respond the same way. Tsarmina would have whipped me for opening my mouth.”
Her tail flicked up indignantly. “So all these stories of him being a murderer? They’re made up. He literally just wrote or read all day. That was pretty much all he did, if he wasn’t doing prince things.”
Redfarl lifted her chin. “Hate me if you must.”
Brek had a hard time hiding his smile of pure gratitude. He walked to stand on the side of Redfarl that Birch wasn’t. “As you can see, Gingivere treated those of us who served him with fairness.”
“But they were still slaves.” Amber sneered, a nasty sound. 
Because Brek couldn't counter that. 
“To protect us!” Redfarl snapped, glaring at her mother.
“Oh please.”
Even bound to her throne with magic, Amber was obnoxious. Brek glared at her, thinking how much easier this would all be if the squirrelqueen wasn’t on the council. 
She curled her lip. “You’ve lost your mind. How long has he been teaching you this lie?”
Redfarl pinned her ears, and Bella sighed. “Enough, Amber.”
She nodded to Redfarl. “Thank you.”
Redfarl bowed as stiffly as Birch had, and walked back into the crowd.
Brek took a deep breath. That… had almost gone worse than his expectations. He hadn’t thought that was a possibility. 
Well. He had, of course. But he hadn’t dreamed that Redfarl’s own mother would turn on her so cruelly. 
To her credit she kept her head high, her composure strong as she disappeared into the sea of surrounding creatures, Birch right behind her. Brek turned to look at the leaders of the council, questioning. After that explosion, he wasn’t sure if he was allowed to continue or not.
“Brek Voh.” Bella nodded to him, and he jumped a little. The lady smiled in a shaken way, saying, “Continue.”
Amber grumbled under her breath, but Brek ignored her. He straightened up fully, saying, “Of course, milady. I call Whegg forward next.”
Amber glared, but surprisingly didn’t do more than that. 
Whegg slipped from the crowd and walked to Brek’s side, keeping his head up and his shoulders straight. He’d groomed himself well today, and of course, Whegg was inclined to be well groomed. But Brek was fairly sure his belt buckle gleamed a little more, or his hair was a little smoother. 
Whegg bowed to the council, before saying, “Milords, Miladies. I served as Prince Gingivere’s guard for years, and later his captain. In all that time he never underpaid me, or allowed insubordination of his guards. He led firmly, but kindly.”
Amber opened her mouth, but Whegg spoke before she could.
“And never, in all that time, did he order me to kill or harm any woodlander.”
Argulor leaned forward. “Never, laddie? What if the slaves misbehaved?”
“I’ll answer that!” 
Brek jumped as a new voice came from the crowd, and Embrien strode out, somehow a picture of nonchalaunt confidence. Then again, she’d always been fairly unconcerned no matter what took place.
Amber glared warily at her, before Embrien reached the center of the crescent of thrones, flicking her tail up in that way squirrels tended to when excited or indignant. “I was once the General of the squirrels! Her majesty…”
Brek noted Embrien’s pointed glare at Amber. “Has thrown me from her kingdom with the rest of those bold enough to stand for truth. For years, I served as Gingivere’s slave, though I resisted his rule at first.”
Brek could remember that. Days when Embrien’s eyes held a fire of hate, similar to her queen’s. That was before she had met Garavel, and decided that all vermin weren’t heartless killers. She lifted her chin. “I’d run from my first master. They were going to hang me.”
She pointed at Gingivere. “But he spoke for me, convinced his father to let him attempt to correct me. I thought I was doomed to endless torture. Instead he fed me, gave me clean clothes, a bed, and some light work. The few times I resisted to see what would happen, he simply halved my food.”
“That’s all he did?” Warthorn asked. 
“Right.” Embrien nodded. “No more than what one might do to rebellious soldiers.”
Amber kicked against her restraints. “Traitor!”
Embrien rolled her eyes. “In what way? I found your daughter, and I protected her…”
“You’re both traitors!” Amber yelled.
Brek held in his internal groan. Wasn’t there any way to get her to be quiet?
“Amber!” Bella yelled. “Kindly by silent lest I be forced to gag you.”
Amber stared in total shock, then boiling indignation. “You wouldn’t dare!”
Warthorn glowered at her. “If we vote on it we could. Because currently, you’re disturbing a trial!”
Amber fell into sulking silence, and Brek did his very best to hold in his smirk. He failed.
“Brek?”
He looked up at Bella’s weary voice. “Continue.”
“Um… yes milady.” Brek nodded, wondering exactly how to start again. He glanced to Whegg and Embrien, and they blinked, and then slipped back to the crowd. Brek rubbed his head. Who was he calling next? Embrien had gone out of order.
“Uh… I call Garavel next.”
The ferret walked from the crowd, stopping near Brek’s side. She glanced at him, shrugging a little. Garavel turned to the council saying awkwardly, “Milords and ladies, I don’t have a lot ta say. But I can confirm what Whegg said. Prince Gingivere always maintained order. And to my understandin’, never harmed a woodlander. An’ he never forced me too.”
Brek noticed Amber grinding her teeth, but apparently the threat of a gag was momentarily suffencent. 
Garavel bowed, then walked back to the crowd. Brek swallowed. Now it was his turn. 
He walked foreward, and readied himself for whatever onslaught came in response to his words.
><><
Sayna leaned against the back of her throne, drawing her coat tighter about her shoulders. The air was chilly, and she wished she could be moving instead of sitting. 
That wasn’t the only reason her paws folded over and over, and her right boot tapped on the stone below her throne. Brek. Brek was out there, defending Gingivere. Sayna looked across the half circle of thrones, staring at the cat prince.
He sat guarded by Indigo, and several other rabbits as well as a few otters. 
In the light of the rapidly fading sun, his tawny fur seemed to glow.
Sayna couldn’t help but see him as a strange mesh of contradictions. He was massive in stature, and yet broken in form. Bones shown as ridges through his fur and his paws shook, yet in health he must have held the strength to bend a sword in two.
An outcast prince who’d always been told he’d have a kingdom.
A kit who’d found the heroes of his imagination, only to have them cast him aside.
Sayna did her best to breathe evenly.
Bloodwrath didn’t need to come here. Not here, and certainly not now. She could feel the rawness in her eyes, and the restlessness in her mind. But she was keeping in in check. And Bloodwrath… she’d been eerily silent lately. 
She wasn’t gone. Sayna knew that. But she wasn’t talking. It must have to do with Ignasa, that was all Sayna could figure out.
She glanced at Torrin, standing to the right of her throne. He really should have something to sit on. 
“Milords and Ladies.” 
Sayna snapped back to the present at the sound of Brek’s voice from several feet away, in the center of the thrones. “I also have a testimony to give. When I was nine years old, I was captured by slavers. I was thrown into Badrang Daskar’s wall crews, and I was unable to keep up with the work. Before I could be killed, Gingivere spoke for me.”
Sayna felt breath catch in her throat, thinking of how tiny Brek had been in those days. Tynek shifted in his throne beside her, and she saw the glimmer in his eyes. The one he got whenever anyone mentioned Badrang.
“He gave me easy work and suffered my inadequence.” Brek was speaking again. “He listened to my claims and tried to help woodlanders his father had wronged.”
He lifted his chin. “My father, Urran Voh. He was a coward and a traitor, and I wanted to do something with my life. I wanted to be part of something more. Gingivere offered me that hope, that I could do something to change the world. And so I followed him. In him I found a king worth serving.”
Sayna could hear the mutters at that, and she winced. But Brek never paused. “You may hate me for those words. But I wanted to aid in the fight against Verdauga’s tyranny, and Gingivere gave me opportunity. I took it and I’m not sorry.”
He glared up at the council. “You will never make me be sorry for what is right. Ignasa has granted me power, power I have used for Gingivere. If he were truly as horrible as you like to claim, would Ignasa allow him to have the aid of any Prophet, no matter how young?”
Sayna sucked in a breath, and glanced at the council members around her. Bella was rubbing her face below her eyes again. She did that a lot. Warthorn just looked deeply conflicted. Argulor shifted from talon to talon on the back of his throne, Rose had her paws clasped together, and Amber sat in sullen silence, still bound to her seat by Bella’s magic.
She looked back to Brek as he bowed stiffly, backing up a few steps. Then he said, “As my final witness, I call Sandingomm.”
Sayna felt an eyebrow raise unbidden, and she found herself wondering what input Sandingomm of all creatures could have. Didn’t she hate the Greeneyes? She’d seemed quite excited on the prospect of killing Tsarmina, at least.
The cat came limping through the crowd of shorter creatures, ones who parted to let her pass. She leaned on a staff, and her torso and leg remained well-bandaged. 
Despite the coolness of the weather, she wore an outfit in two pieces, with lacing and a hood, something nearly buried in her long black hair. The brand on her arm was very visible, pale and catching the light of the sunset. 
Did Brek have one of those? Sayna realized he must. 
Sandingomm bowed only a little, wincing as she did. Her torso still probably didn’t want to move that much. 
Sayna could relate.
“Melords an’ ladies, I owe the prince more’n any might know.”
Sayna noticed Gingivere shift in his seat, and lift his head from his paws. His ears pricked forward, and he seemed honestly interested in what she had to say.
Sandingomm glanced at him, then smirked as she looked back at the council. “There was a party, see? That’s how we met. The host a it bought me ta entertain the prince that night. Ya know what I mean. Wull… do ya?”
She paused, frowning, “Ya is woodlanders after all…”
“We are not so naive as you assume, Sandingomm.” Bella sighed. “Yes. We understand. Please continue.”
“Ah great!” Sandingomm grinned. “It’s kind’a awkward ta outright say in polite company.”
Sayna shuddered, and noticed Gingivere look saddened again.
“Anyway.” Sandingomm said, and Sayna focused on her again. The cat took a step closer. “I’d planned ta kill him that night. I weren’t gonna sleep with no Greeneyes. I figured I’d stab him and go out in a blaze a glory, tough-like. Even if I was scared outa me mind.”
Sayna couldn’t help but glance at Gingivere. He’d jerked his head up, and was staring in blank shock. Apparently no one had enlightened him of her plot against his life.
Sandingomm smiled, a wry look. “But he was kind ta me. He didn’t force me. He even defended me from the demands a the party’s host. He treated me like a creature, an he talked ta me, and Hellgates, I hated that. Because I wanted to hate him more than anythin’ in the world, even more’n livin’. But he was this awkward, ernest sort and just wanted ta know about me. And it’d a been like stabbin’ a infant. Couldn’t justify it no matter what I told myself.”
She paused, before looking at the satchel over her shoulder. “In fact, he really cared. After that night he wrote me a letter every time Ripfang was in port.”
Amber snorted, but said nothing.
“What were the contents of these letters?” Sayna heard herself asking before she properly thought. But then, it might tell them more of the Prince’s character, and by his own paw. Writing, after all, told many things. She knew that well.
“Wull actually, I can’t read.” Sandingomm confessed, digging in her satchel. She pulled a thick sheaf of letters from her bag. “But I got the letters here. They ain’t ever been opened, see? Still sealed.”
There was a flash of movement, and Sayna glanced at Gingivere to see he’d jerked his head up, a look of total horror on his face. That was the look of a creature staring down the shaft of a drawn arrow.
It only made her want to know the contents of the letters more.
Maybe they held some proof against him? Why else would he look so frightened?
Amber, apparently, could not resist speaking. “You honestly expect us to believe you were given letters over the years and you never even opened them? Why would you have kept them? These have to be fake.”
“For your infermation.” Sandingomm stuck her nose in the air. “It was the only thing anybody’d ever given me that I could remember. Course I kept ‘em. Just didn’t see the point it breaking the seals an’ gettin’ ‘em wrinkled when I couldn’t even read ‘em.”
She glanced at Gingivere, and Sayna followed suit. The cat prince’s paws had fallen to his sides, and he stared at the council like he almost wished they actually would just execute him.
He looked truly hopeless. 
What could be in those letters?
Sandingomm held them out to Bella. “Wull, anyway, I thought they could be evidence a character or somethin’.”
Bella took the stack of papers and began sifting through them.
“There are a lot of these.”
Sandingomm smiled. “Oh, he was very dedicated. Always sent me one when Ripfang was in port.”
She shot Gingivere a little grin. “It always made me day.”
Sayna got a sense of deep confliction from Gingivere. Bella sifted through the perfectly folded letters, and pulled one from the stack. Then she broke the seal and unfolded the parchment.
Gingivere was the very definition of stiff. 
Bella read for a moment, before Warthorn said, “Well? Do you plan to read them or not?”
“Milord… milady…”
Sayna looked down at Brek as he spoke, clasping his paws behind his back. “Er… I believe those are love letters in regards to Sandingomm.”
“Honest truth?” Sandingomm pricked her ears up. “Ok, now I wanna hear ‘em.”
Argulor ruffled his feathers. “Perhaps not at a meeting of the council?”
Bella folded the letter with a soft crackle of parchment. “I am inclined to agree. This is a love letter, and bears little weight in this case. No, if that is all you have to say, Sandingomm, the council will…”
“Oh I ain’t done.”
Sayna blinked at the cat as she grinned, an almost smug look. “I gotta peice of evidence that none could match. But it might get kinda unbelievable so.”
She held up a black paw, white fangs gleaming. 
“Bind me ta an oath a truth.”
== Chapter 47 Queen of the Broken Throne ==
Sayna stared. Of all the things she’d expected to come from Sandingomm’s mouth, that hadn’t been it.
She recalled her own experience with binding, and shivered. She’d never heard of someone wanting to be bound to an oath. Especially not one of truth. Lying was so easy to do, even by mistake.
Apparently, the council hadn’t heard of it either. After a moment, Bella asked in a dumbfounded tone, “You want me to bind you to an oath of truth?”
“That’s what I said, ain’t it?”
Amber curled her lip, evidently unable to keep silent. “What trickery is this? No one asks to be bound to truth.”
Warthorn leaned forward, and Sayna saw the sparkle of interest in his golden eyes. “Not unless they are sure of what they say and want no doubt in their words.”
Sandingomm wiggled her claws. “Exactly. What I got ta say has been years waitin’. I plan ta do it justice.”
Warthorn glanced to Gingivere, asking, “And this has to do with him?”
“It involves the outcome a his trial. This story’s been thirty-five years in the makin’. An’ I think any a you who still value the truth a things wanna hear this.”
There was silence. Sayna mulled that sentence over in her head, doing the calculations. Thirty-five years… that would have been the year Verdauga conquered Mossflower. Sandingomm knew something about that?
“I want to hear it.” Sayna said, before anyone else. 
That time was shrouded in mystery and biased anger. Getting any truth about it out of anyone was like pulling splinters, but if a creature was bound to tell the truth on the subject, well…
Sayna tried to hold in her excitement. She might actually get some honest answers.
Tynek spoke from beside her. “She was a slave. I wish to hear what another slave has to say.”
Bella, Warthon, and Argulor just blinked at Sayna and Tynek for a moment. Then Argulor sighed. “Well, the lassie did aid us in recovering Germaine. She risked much, and paid with her health.”
“I suppose the right has been well earned.” Bella admitted. “I did not bring my binding rings, however.”
“Don’t worry ‘bout that.” Sandingomm spoke from where she stood before them, apparently listening despite the council’s lowered tones. She pulled a silver ring off her left paw. “I got this.”
Bella looked at each council member, but even Amber was silent. The mad queen just glared at the base of her throne, and Sayna honestly wished she’d protest again. Actually gagging her sounded like such fun.
Bella sighed, and nodded, before motioning that Sandingomm should come forward. The cat did, though she limped the entire way. She held out her ring, and Bella shook her head. “Put it on.”
Sandingomm did so, sliding the ring onto her third claw, not her last one. She really must believe she could tell only the truth.
“Make your oath.” Bella instructed. “A common way of wording it…”
“I swear on Ignasa ta tell only the truth as I unnerstand it.”
Sayna blinked. Bella did too. Those were the words she had said when Gruvan’s father had accused her, weren’t they? How long had Sandingomm been planning this?
Bella cleared her throat, holding out both paws as blue light swirled around them. “With Ignasa’s power I bind this creature to her oath, that she must fulfil it or pay the price.”
The blue light swirled around Sandingomm’s paw, at last absorbing into her ring. Bella leaned back on her throne, saying, “Alright. Now what do you have to tell us?”
Sandingomm grinned. 
Sayna found that a very odd expression considering the circumstances. 
Sandingomm’s smile tugged at the corner of her mouth as she spoke. “I’ve been watchin’ ya, observin’ since I got here. An’ ya have a deep dislike a us vermin. Care ta tell me why, since we used ta have a court in Mossflower?”
“Your kind betrayed us!” Amber spit at the cat before Sayna could even attempt an answer. “And what does this have to do with this trial?”
Sandingomm ignored her. “We betrayed ya? Every vermin, really?”
Warthorn spoke gravely. “Keir, your king. He betrayed us. He sent a vassal prince to kill Cadell, king of the court of mice.”
Sayna blinked at the sudden scowl that twisted Sandingomm’s face. “He did no such thing!”
She didn’t scream, she didn’t double over like Gruvan’s father had, clutching her paw to her chest as the ring constricted around her claw. No, nothing happened. And Sayna could hear the low murmurs of her fellow council members.
“Bella, something’s wrong with your binding!” Amber snarled.
Bella shot the squirrelqueen a glare that would have made a more sane creature shudder. “I assure you, Amber. She is bound.”
Bella looked to Sandingomm, confusion in her eyes. “Somehow, she is not lying.”
Sayna took a deep breath. Now, at long last, she would get to the bottom of Sildrin. Of why everything was so broken.
Sandingomm lifted her chin. “Of course I ain’t lyin’. While ya feasted an’ drank, snug in yer castles, my father fought fer ya. He died fer ya, an’ his sons with him. Verdauga gave him the choice ta serve him, but me dad never backed down. Never gave up. Because that just wasn’t in his nature, were it?”
Warthorn leaned forward in his throne, eyes eager. “Keir never sided with Verdauga?”
“Never. Me family weren’t traitors. We was martyrs. They all died ta pertect this land, and fer what? Ta be slandered? Mocked? Ta have our court dismantled an our legacy stained by the very creatures they all fought so hard ta defend?”
Sayna heard a branch crack, somewhere in the surrounding forests. 
Well, this was a fine mess.
Sandingomm held up the bound paw, still intact. “Clearly, I ain’t lyin’. But one’a ya did, didn’t ya?”
Sayna glanced around. The other council member’s expressions ranged from shocked to horrified, to furious.
Warthorn stood in a single movement. “You’re his youngest kit, aren’t you? Keir had a kit with gray fur.”
“Who could foretell the future.” Bella said softly. “But no one beleived a three year old. He brought her to me, once, I almost remember.”
“Bah!” Amber growled. “You honestly expect me to believe that thing is a princess?”
She fell silent as the entire council glared at her, Sayna included.
Warthorn curled his lip at the squirrelqueen. Then he looked to Sandingomm. “But how were we told that Keir instigated this?”
Sandingomm shrugged. “Actually, been tryin’ ta figure that one out meself. The way I figure it…”
“Are we seriously going to let her keep running her mouth?” Amber struggled against the magic still restraining her to her throne. “What does this have to do with that Greeneyes cat prince? No matter what she says, he’s still the son of Verdauga.”
“Lassie.” 
Sayna started as Argulor shifted his perch on the back of his throne, causing the lengthening shadows of evening to shift. “You seem quite interested in keeping this trial focused, when earlier you were only disrupting it.”
“Because my traitor of a kit got involved. What are you saying, Argulor?” Amber’s voice was like the snapping of a whip.
But Sayna found the phoenix had a point.
Sandingomm did too, apparently. “Listen. This involves the Prince’s fate. Cause the way I see it, someone lied. Someone told ya a story bout me dad with no proof, someone ya trusted. So now. Who was it?”
“Silence! Insolent cat, you dare…”
Amber’s ranting cut off as Bella waved a paw and the squirrelqueen’s mouth clamped shut. She thrashed for a moment, before falling still and glaring murder at anyone in her feild of vision. Sayna did her best not to smirk.
Bella rubbed her forehead. “I should have had us vote on that. I’m sorry, I just cannot think with her tyraids. All in favor of Amber staying gagged and remaining in contempt of the court for continued disruptions, raise your right paw.”
Everyone did. Tynek grabbed his right paw with his left one to lift his mostly unusable arm high enough, even if it made him wince.
Rose quickly pushed it back down, rubbing his shoulder. “Don’t do that, it’s not good for you. We get the idea.”
Bella sighed, looking back to Sandingomm. “Where were we? Oh yes. Something about slander.”
“I wanna know who lied.” Sandingomm crossed her arms. “Because someone with enough power an’ prestige did. Someone you all trusted.”
Argulor, Warthorn, and Bella looked at each other. Bella looked away first. “I cannot make myself remember those days. And after all, I was practically bedfast after I raised the Moss.”
Warthorn shook his head. “It’s like a blur. I had to make so many decisions, one right after the other… over the years, they’ve bled together.”
“But laddie, when did we turn on the vermin? Because that might have some answers.” Argulor ruffled his feathers, glancing at Sandingomm. “Er… sorry lass. We have made mistakes.”
“Oh I know.” Sandingomm said it so nonchalauntly and cooly leaned on her staff as if the picture that was forming on the pages of history wasn’t the definition of terrible. 
Sayna looked up at Argulor, asking, “You turned on the vermin?”
He ruffled his feathers, looking ashamed. “Well… yes and no, lassie. You see, we were trying to maintain order and establish our laws again. The four courts you know… squirrels, otters, mice, and myth… they all had leaders to defend them. Well, yours didn’t, but Bella took over as best she could.”
“But the court of vermin had no defender.” Sayna breathed. “No seat on the council.”
She looked at the throne that sat on the outside of Argulor’s, the smashed one, and her gut clenched.
She glanced up at Torrin, who had his arms crossed, and a nearly unreadable expression on his face. She thought of Groddil, and looked to Sandingomm… a fellow princess. 
Torrin’s voice from beside her was harder than Sayna had ever heard. In fact, she hadn’t known he could sound that angry. “So you killed them.”
Argulor shuffled on his perch, and Bella looked away. Warthorn was the only one who met Torrin’s gaze, and the pain Sayna saw in his eyes made her wince. He spoke softly, but his words cut deep. 
“Ourselves? No. We lost control of our courts, Hellgates son, we’d lost control of everything. Mossflower was in a state of panic. Each day we thought Verdauga would cross our river and kill everyone who remained.”
Torrin didn’t back down. Warthorn didn’t either, even if the shame made his shoulder’s slump and his eyes dull. “In the chaos, we could not control the individual Mossflowerian, or force them to manage their grievances in a civilized manner.”
“So basically.” Sandingomm righted herself, placing a paw on her hip. “Your courts tore mine apart. What’s that called… oh right. Genocide.”
Sayna was fairly sure the council wilted. Well, aside from Amber, who bristled. 
She sucked in a sharp breath, realizing she’d been holding it in.
She met Sandingomm’s gaze, feeling the weight of the wrongs done come to rest on her shoulders. They always did in the end. “What… can we do?”
“Not much, I fear.” Sandingomm shrugged. “For all the innocent creatures killed by the ones they trusted… ya can’t bring ‘em back.”
Sayna looked down. Because that rung sharply through her soul, like a knife to the ribs.
She couldn’t bring Gruvan back either.
Sandingomm smiled. Lands Beyond, how could she even do that with any honesty? But she did. 
“I’ve got a deal fer ya. A way ta solve all’a this.” She pointed at the shattered throne, pieces of it sinking into the grass like a decomposing corpse. “That’s me throne. Give it back. Restore a fraction a what was stolen, and give us vermin our seat on the council again.”
Her grin widened. “And give me the right of pardon.”
Amber kicked against her restraints, making muffled growls. Argulor blinked, Bella sat upright, and Warthorn frowned slightly. He was the one to speak at last. “How do you know so much of our laws.”
Sandingomm showed her fangs in a rather wolfish grin. “Been studyin’.”
Sayna felt her ears jerk up. Of course. Sandingomm had been at all of Gingivere and Brek’s meetings while they prepared for the trial. She glanced at Brek, who had backed up to stand beside Gingivere. Both cat and mouse stared at Sandingomm, shocked and dumbfounded.
“The right of pardon is not to be given lightly…” Bella began, but Sandingomm cut her off.
“And the slaughter a hundreds… no, thousands a creatures that never did ya wrong, that’s ta be taken lightly?”
Sandingomm took a step forward. “Ya owe me a throne, and ya owe me a court. Who am I gonna rule over since ya killed ‘em all? I’ll lead the lost ones, the ones with no home, the slaves who never had no choice. Give me this right, or let it be known that ya killed an entire court with no solid proof!”
In the silence that followed, Sandingomm held up her unharmed paw. “Oh lookit that. Ignasa don’t seem ta disagree with me.”
Sayna just stared. She found a new respect for Sandingomm in that fire shining in her eyes. This was a creature who truly was brave.
If only I could be as her.
Sandingomm let her paw fall to her side. As she did, Sayna saw the glitter of her ring as it slipped free and fell into the grass, returning to its normal size, one too large for the claw she’d put it on. 
“Huh.” She gazed at the ring for a moment. “Looks like I’m not the one who lied, is I?”
The silence was oppressive. Sayna cleared her throat after a moment or two of it, though a part of her wished to shrink down in her throne and say nothing. But no. She had to do things, had to be an active part of this council. That was her duty, as queen. Princess. Whatever she was supposed to be.
“So… is there a way to find who started this rumor?”
Warthorn spoke after a moment, slowly looking to Amber as he did so. “Oh, I have a suspicion.”
Amber had been glaring at the ground, but now she looked up, ears pinning against the nape of her neck as Warthorn bared his fangs. “Weren’t you the one to first tell me of Keir’s supposed betrayal?”
Amber tried to say something, but of course, her mouth wouldn’t open. Bella sighed, and snapped her claws. Amber’s mouth popped open, and she snarled in the same second. “I told you what I was told! How was I to know any better? It wasn’t as though I could rightly go to Theas-Lidir to investigate.” 
“So you told us as fact what you’d heard as rumor?”
“Oh please.” Amber huffed. “Like you all haven’t believed one of those at one point or other. We’re all mortal. And besides. Clearly you believed me.”
Warthorn leapt up. “Because we trusted you Amber! You were one of us, we grew up with you, we thought you’d double check any rumors. Back then, I thought you cared about justice.”
Amber stuck her nose in the air. “I do care about justice. I care about debts being paid.”
“By an entire court?” Warthorn snarled. “I sat by and did nothing because I thought you told the truth. I’m just as guilty as you, you stained all our paws red with your filthy lies. Why? Because misery loves company? Because you wanted us to all go down with you?”
Amber actually said nothing for a moment, and then she shrugged. 
Sayna figured the mad squirrelqueen hadn’t thought that far ahead or about that many creatures outside of herself.
Warthorn sat down heavily, burying his face in his paws. “Dear Ignasa, what have we done?”
From Sayna’s right, Bella took a shivering breath. “We must beg his forgiveness. We must beg her forgiveness.”
The raccoon lady looked to Sandingomm, still standing in the half circle of thrones.
Argulor shifted again. “You hold the least blame milady. You were, after all, barely coherent at the time.”
He ducked his head. “It’s Warthorn and I who shoulder the most blame, outside of the mad squirrel.”
“I’m right here.” Amber said, grumpily. 
“I know.” Argulor sniffed. “That’s the point. You’ve more than earned that name.”
Sayna folded her paws in her lap. Her burns were beginning to ache, and she was growing tired, but she didn’t imagine she’d get to leave anytime soon.
“What do we do?” She asked.
“I say give her throne back.” Torrin said, a tinge of darkness dripping from his tone.
Sayna glanced up at him, and nodded. “Well… yes, of course. I’m just not sure the steps we must take.”
“And.” Torrin added, glaring at Amber, “Shouldn’t she be punished for this?”
“I think so.” Tynek said, baring blunt teeth.
Sayna blinked at him, surprised. Since when did Tynek care about vermin? But he answered her mental question a second later. “What she has done is… not right. She is like Sildrin. No. She is worse.”
Rose took Tynek’s paw in her own and squeezed it. He looked up at her, and managed to smile. 
Bella spoke up. “While I agree that Amber’s deeds must be called into account, we are still dealing with the trial of Gingivere Greeneyes.”
She looked at Sandingomm. “And… now this.”
For a moment, there was quiet as Bella looked around at the council. “Do we need to recess to discuss Sandingomm’s claims? Or do we all agree they are valid?”
Amber just glared. Bella sighed.
“Fine. How many of us agree her claim to the throne of a court still stands?”
Sayna raised her paw, as did Warthorn and Torrin. Tynek joined in moments later, and when he did, so did Rose. Argulor coughed, and then raised a talon. 
“We owe the lassie that much.”
Bella nodded. “And her demand to have the right of pardon?”
Warthorn sighed, rubbing the back of his head. “She has a point. We destroyed her court. We let it happen.”
“They were vermin!” Amber snarled. “They deserved it!”
“Amber,” Bella growled, low and guttural. “Kindly be silent unless you have a valid contribution, lest we gag you again.”
Sayna found a shred of satisfaction that Amber sullenly obeyed.
Argulor ruffled his feathers. “In this thing, do we have a choice?”
Slowly, Bella shook her head. “She makes a strong case. And I am not against her holding a seat on the council. She is bolder than most. I respect that… but she will need proper training. And she’ll most certainly need to learn to read and write.”
“That training can be provided.” Warthorn said, sounding overwhelmed.
“What about…” Sayna paused. Then she forced her words out. “Her request to the right of pardon? We cannot pardon every creature.”
“There are limitations to that right, of course.” Bella sighed. “I suppose we should give it to her, at least for awhile. At least until she can reestablish her court.”
Amber pinned her ears, clearly unable to keep her mouth shut. “You fools! She’s going to pardon the Greeneye prince, can’t you see that?”
Sayna curled her lip. “Oh? If he fits under the right of pardon, I guess he can’t have done anything that horrific. I’m in favor.”
“Of course you are, vermin kissing traitor…”
“Amber!” Bella yelled, snapping her claws again. And again, Amber’s mouth was sealed. Bella rubbed the side of her head. “You drove me to that.”
Sayna felt her face grow a little warm at the accusation, and she snuck a glance at Torrin. He remained pretty impassive, so maybe he hadn’t caught Amber’s true meaning behind her words.
Or maybe he had and just wasn’t reacting. 
Bella rubbed the side of her head, moving her claws in perfect little circles. “While I hold no love for a Greeneyes, the testimonies in his favor are compelling and I see no true reason to hold him accountable for crimes he didn’t commit. So considering the circumstances, I agree we should allow Sandingomm the right of pardon, at least until she has a reasonably sized court.”
Sandingomm grinned. Amber growled low in her throat.
Tynek raised his left paw. “I agree.”
Amber growled even lower. 
Warthorn nodded. “I am in favor.”
“I feel we have no choice. I am also.” Argulor said. 
Torrin lifted his chin. “You know where I stand.”
Rose slowly nodded. “It does seem the only right thing to do.”
Amber’s growl managed to keep getting lower and darker, something Sayna honestly found herself begrudgingly impressed by. Bella sighed and nodded at the squirrelqueen. 
Amber’s mouth snapped open, and she yelled, “Can’t you see what’s going on? She tricked us! She led us to believe she had evidence pertaining to that Greeneyes’ trial! She’s a lying coward like all her kind!”
Bella snorted. “Coward? None who asks to be bound to truth can be called a coward.”
“Her methods were somewhat improper.” Warthorn said, before turning on Amber. “But so were yours! How dare you lie to me about one of my court’s closest allies? I should have protected Keir’s creatures, and I did nothing!”
Warthorn broke off at this, and looked away. 
Argulor nodded, shooting Amber a searing glare. “You have no right to accuse anyone of lacking virtue.”
Amber seethed, but mercifully, she seethed in silence.
After a moment, Bella nodded, and stood up. “Sandingomm, daughter of Keir. The council hears your claims and acknowledges your birthright as head of the court of vermin.”
Sayna heard the sudden murmurs of the crowd now, as well as a few cries, whether in protest or shock, she couldn’t say.
Bella took a deep breath, holding it in for a second. “And… we grant you the right of pardon, until you have refounded your court.”
That grin. Sandingomm had won, and she knew it. Sayna felt a tiny smirk tug on her face. 
What she wouldn’t give to have that much confidence.
The crowd’s mutters and grumbles were considerably louder now, but there were no outright screams of protest. Bella folded her arms. “I believe that our next meeting should center on Amber’s actions, do we all agree?”
There were collective nods all around, aside from Amber. She simply set her jaw, and looked like she might well be contemplating murder.
Sayna was certain she was.
Sandingomm straightened up after a few moments, nodding. “Great! An’ her majesty’s right a course. I will be claimin’ the Greeneye prince fer me court. He’s the smart sort. Ought’a be able ta teach me readin’ an the like.”
Amber just growled. Bella shot her a look, before nodding. “Normally, Sandingomm, the character of a creature must be proven to invoke the right of pardon. But since that has, in my opinion, been given for this one, I will not protest.”
No one else did either. At last, Warthorn heaved a deep, resigned sigh. “Your pardon is approved.”
Argulor puffed out his chest, ruffling his feathers, at last shooting a ruefull glance at where Gingivere sat. “I’m not disagreeing lads and lassies, but we walked right into this one.”
“She played you for fools.” Amber snarled, under her breath. 
Sandingomm just smiled knowingly.
Sayna looked to Gingivere, noting Brek standing close beside him. The two gaped at Sandingomm, with a mix of horror, gratitude, relief, and on Gingivere’s part, what could be admiration. But then, he still looked a little downcast, so Sayna couldn’t be sure.
Bella turned to Sandingomm, bringing Sayna back to the situation at paw.
“Very well. He belongs to you. But a word of advise, do not linger here tonight. Mossflower came to see a cat die.” Bella crossed her arms. “It is best if you return to Brockhall and stay there for the next few… weeks. In all honesty.”
“So we’re unner house arrest.”
“For your safety.” Bella confirmed. “Until our courts have had a chance to calm themselves. You will have guards. Sayna?”
Sayna jumped, blinking up at Bella. “Er… yes?”
“Your guards. Would you trust them? Would you trust they would obey you?”
Sayna shrugged, unsure of how she was supposed to answer that. But Indigo had only ever been loyal, even when she hadn’t agreed with all of Sayna’s plans. She found herself nodding. “Yes, I would.”
Bella seemed to be waiting for something, and after a second of two, Sayna raised an eyebrow. “You want me to have my guards protect them too?”
“Just until she can establish her own.” Bella confirmed.
Oh. 
“I… yes. I think that would be fine.”
Indigo is going to kill me. 
“Wonderful.” Bella said. “Then if the council agrees, we will dismiss the meeting until next month.”
No one disagreed, not even Amber.
Warthorn nodded. “We will explain this situation to our courts individually, I expect.”
“I don’t have a court.” Bella sighed. “If you want to announce it, that’s fine. Though I did expect it to be on a courtly basis.”
She glanced at Amber. “Then again, perhaps that is not the best idea. Argulor, you have the best voice of us.”
Sayna gripped the stone armrests of her throne, feeling the persistent ache in her side. But she kept her eyes on the crowd as Argulor explained all that had been decided. 
Many of the younger ones looked confused, even afraid. Some were glancing at their elders, and surprisingly few wore the looks of hate Sayna had been expecting. 
The older ones were the same, though more of their number held the same dripping fury in their eyes, like Amber. Sayna had been expecting that. What she hadn’t been expecting were so many to turn away, or look at the ground. 
As though they’d always known the truth, deep down. 
They just hadn’t wanted to face the fact they’d done exactly what Verdauga had, that they’d murdered so many in cold blood.
Sayna took a deep breath. 
Everything she’d ever believed had been shifted tonight. She should feel more about that. Stupidity, for not guessing the worst in the beginning, perhaps. But she felt nothing. She just wanted to sleep.
As the meeting disbanded, Dancer came trotting over to pick her up. The unicorn knelt, and Sayna mounted as Indigo bounded up. “What is this about me guarding the Greeneye prince?”
“And Sandingomm.” Sayna said tiredly. “And… Brek too, if you would.”
“Milady.” Indigo crossed her arms. “I have fourteen guards at my disposal. Fourteen! Do you expect me to work miracles?”
Sayna half-listened, as she watched Torrin swing onto a kelpie’s back, and lope out of the clearing without a word to anyone. An unpleasant feeling twisted in her gut. He hadn’t been happy about what had gone on tonight, and Sayna couldn’t help but worry he was mad at her.
That’s not what it is. And… besides. It’s not like we’re a couple. I… just had a silly crush or something. We’re friends, stop freaking out!
That was easier said than done.
“Milady, you’re not listening. Again.” Indigo said, pulling Sayna back to the conversation at paw. 
“Oh… uh… yes, sorry.”
Sayna rubbed her head, looking down to find Dancer gazed at her with concern. “Uh… Indigo, I’ll see about integrating those guards we recruited at the festival, alright?”
Indigo sighed. “That’s what I said, but they will need training…”
Sayna just wanted to sleep. “Well then assign them to me. I seem to be in the least danger, currently.”
“Milady, I do not think that is wise…”
“Indigo, I’m a literal weapon. And it’s not like I’ll be completely unguarded. Just… trust me for once.”
The rabbit frowned. Sayna rolled her eyes. “Look out for Gingivere and Sandingomm tonight. I’m going to bed. Dancer… work with me here?”
Her friend snorted, then wheeled around and galloped for Brockhall. The crowd parted for them, and Indigo yelled something, but Sayna ignored them all. She needed to curl up in bed with tea, write in her journal, and process what had happened. If she didn’t, she feared she might actually lose her mind.
What was left of it, anyway.
Dancer galloped down the short road to Brockhall, through the darkness of what was very nearly night. A stain of light still glimmered through the trees to the west.
They came upon the castle quickly, and Sayna saw the kelpie Torrin had ridden off on strolling through the garden, alone.
She should probably talk to Torrin. Find out what he thought and all that.
Sayna yawned as she slipped from Dancer’s back. 
“Hey, can I eat some carrots in your pantry?”
Sayna patted Dancer’s shoulder absently. “Sure, alright.”
She made her way back to the infirmary, when Amyl rebound her slowly healing burns. They’d mostly scabbed over now. After it all, Sayna dragged herself into bed and curled up under her blankets.
She’d talk to Torrin in the morning.
><><
Sayna awoke unaided and uninterrupted, an odd situation to be sure. Usually Indigo, Germaine, or Amyl woke her… and sometimes Rose. But not this morning. Apparently everyone was busy enough to have forgotten about her.
It was nice to sleep as long as she needed.
Sayna stretched, and yawned. She caught herself at the stiffness in her side, but relaxed when no jolts of pain ran through her. Soon she’d be back to normal.
She slid out of bed, and as she pulled on her clothes, she looked in the mirror. She needed to stop doing that, checking wouldn’t make the fur on her cheek grow back any faster. And looking just reminded her of how ugly she was at the moment.
When she was finished getting dressed, Sayna walked from her room.
Sandingomm and Gingivere sat by the shallow pond of glowing water in the center of the main room. They looked up as Sayna came out, and Gingivere looked at her with not a little wonder.
She found her paw strayed to the bare, welted skin of her cheek, and she grimaced. 
“Er… is my brother around?”
Sandingomm shrugged. “Nah, the kit’s sleepin’ I think. He was tired after the whole defence an all.”
“Oh.” Sayna nodded. That was reasonable. 
Gingivere seemed a little stronger today, at least he was sitting up and his eyes seemed alert. He was still fur and bones, though.
“So, yer a queen.” Sandingomm said.
Sayna blinked, and then shrugged. “Not technically…”
“Princess, queen to be soon.” Sandingomm waved a dismissive paw at her. “So what’da ya think comes first? In re-establishin’ me court. I think I need me throne fixed, but Gingi here thinks I need to make laws an’ ordinances.”
“Gingi?” The prince asked, cocking one ear forward and one back.
Sandingomm shrugged. “Ya need a nickname, s’a work in progress. So, Sayna, what do ya think?”
“Uh.” Sayna raised an eyebrow. “Yeah, I think the laws need ta come first. But, that being said… you’re right about the thrones too. Honestly, we need to fix yours and add two more. Because we’re running out of seating.”
Sandingomm grinned. “Thank ya. Someone unnerstands.”
“But the laws are more important.” Sayna added, feeling that might need clarification. 
Gingivere nodded in agreement. Sandingomm sighed. “Yeah, yer both right a course. Can we talk ta someone ‘bout makin’ me a crown though? I could smelt Tsarmina’s down and have mine made out’a that. Like a trophey a me victory.”
Sayna shook her head absently. “We haven’t won yet. Oh. That reminds me, have either of you seen Torrin?”
Sandingomm nodded. “He snuck out a couple hours back. Said he wanted ta walk or somethin’ an’ ta not tell Germaine cause she’d probably send him back ta bed.”
“Oh… do you know where he is?”
“Couldn’t say.” Sandingomm shrugged. “But he ain’t come back.”
Sayna sighed. “Alright, thanks.”
She walked toward the infirmary door, waving as she did. No one was in the first room of the infirmary, Asher wasn’t even in his crib, so Groddil must have taken him somewhere. Sayna had to wonder where Germaine disappeared too for so long. To her knowledge, the infirmary was only the two rooms… but then again, she was probably wrong. 
Sayna opened the door leading into the hall, and found four guards stationed around it. They blinked at her, and then the one she remembered as Tine dipped his head. “Milady.”
“Oh. I see Indigo followed my orders.” Sayna remarked. “Good.”
“We are your guards, milady. It is our honor to follow your orders… no matter what they might be.” Tine said, and it didn’t sound rehearsed, even if Sayna wasn’t sure she completely believed him. At least about it being an honor.
“Well, have any of you seen Torrin?”
Tine nodded, rich brown ears bobbing with his head. “Oh yes, milady. He wanted to stretch his legs, and I sent Fiske to guard him. Er. He’s one of the squirrels…”
“I know.” Sayna said, looking down the hallway. “Do you know where he went?”
Tine cocked an ear. “I believe he said something about the garden…”
“Then that’s where I’m going. Can you spare me a guard?”
“Er…” Tine looked at the other guards, all rabbits. “I suppose I could go with you, milady.”
Sayna shrugged. “If it isn’t too much trouble.”
She began walking, and Tine followed quickly. “Well Indigo would kill me if I let you wander off alone. So trouble or no, I’m coming.”
Sayna didn’t respond. She felt a bit of guilt at dragging him from his assigned post, but shoved it away. She couldn’t feel guilt about wanting to leave the infirmary and going places. She still had to do things, even if they involved the rabbits now.
It was, after all, what they were being paid to do.
Wait, was she paying them?
Sayna paused, Tine behind her.
“Milady?”
“Nothing.” She said, picking up her pace again. She would have to ask Indigo about wages and how all of that was supposed to work. Or perhaps she should ask Bella.
But right now, she wanted to talk to Torrin.
Why did she want to do that, specifically? He’d seemed upset after everything that had happened at last night’s council meeting, but was that really her problem? Still, she wanted to know he wasn’t mad at her. Or… maybe he was. 
Sayna sighed as she walked across the kitchen, pushing the doors open and walking into a cool morning.
“Tine, where is everyone?”
She’d seen no one on the walk to the outside.
He folded his paws behind his back. “Milady, I believe they are in conference with Bella. Indigo has yet to inform me of any specifics, but it seems there is talk of a coronation.”
After a moment, he clarified, “A coronation for you and Lord Tynek.”
Oh. Right. She had demanded her crown, hadn’t she?
Maybe she shouldn’t have said anything. But it was coming anyway, so she might as well get used to the idea. Sayna nodded in response to Tine, and decided not to consider the ramifications of her big mouth in full. It was best not to. 
She walked up the old stone steps, ones that curved up over the kitchen entrance and led into the herb garden.
The smell of various medicinal herbs was so strong Sayna found her nose smarting a little. It was like the infirmary, but a lot more pungent, since they were fresh. Tine coughed into his paw.
Someone moved in Sayna’s field of vision, and she noticed Amyl, back turned to her, cutting herbs and stacking them in a basket. 
Sayna opened her mouth to ask if Amyl had seen Torrin, and then decided against it. Who knew what rumors she’d already spread. Sayna quickly slipped off in the opposite direction, keeping her pawsteps as soft as was possible.
Tine said nothing about it, and followed equally as quietly. 
Sayna was grateful that he didn’t pester her with questions. She wandered away from the herb garden, deeper into the overgrown parts. Once, this place must have been glorious. Even now, it held an air of timelessness.
Moss crept across pathways and rocks, even now, in the dryness of fall.
She took a deep breath of flower-scented air, folding her paws behind her back and for a moment, was content to simply exist. 
Roses reclaimed crumbling trellises, tangling on themselves, crawling across the ground, and spiraling up trees. Beautiful, wild, and forgotten.
Sayna wished she could heal this garden, wished she could replant the wildflowers growing through the walkways and thin the crowded irises, small and spindly from lack of room. 
When was the last time she’d wanted to care for plants? Long, long ago in Evenglade, when she could pretend she was happy.
Ferns, violets, and grass choked the pathways, ones that branched from each other like spiderwebs and led past broken, moss covered benches. Sayna knew she’d never been so deep in Brockhall’s garden. It was so quiet here, she was sure that if she were to speak, her voice would echo.
Tine’s whispering pawsteps were the only thing to remind her that other living beings existed. 
How large was this place? It seemed to stretch on forever. Did the garden cover the entire top of Brockhall? Because Sayna couldn’t begin to guess how large the fortress really was. She had the feeling it’s rooms stretched much farther than she’d explored.
“You could get lost up here, I think.”
Sayna paused her walk, allowing herself to take it all in. The trees might be gold and orange, but the ground still radiated green. 
“Perhaps milady.” Tine said.
Finding Torrin was proving difficult.
Maybe, said the voice in her mind, that’s because he doesn’t want to be found.
Sayna sighed. Was there a way to turn off that nagging in her brain? But then, if she did that, she would probably end up missing it.
“Is everything alright, milady?” Tine asked.
Sayna glanced back at him, and shrugged. “Yeah. I just have no idea where Torrin could be.”
“Perhaps the old gardenhouse?”
Sayna stared at Tine. “The what? You weren’t going to mention that?”
He looked ashamed. “Er, sorry milady. Indigo found it while setting up perimeters; I forgot you probably wouldn’t know about it. Would you like me to take you there?”
“Yes please.” Sayna said, letting him take the lead. 
They moved far faster with Tine showing her the way. And sure enough, when the crumbling old ruin of a gardenhouse came into view, nestled in a grove of trees, the squirrel named Fiske sat on a crumbling bench at its front.
He started upright when he noticed Sayna and Tine.
“Milady! Sargent! Lord Torrin insisted I wait here, I did not abandon him..”
“It’s fine.” Sayna held up a paw, before pointing at the overgrown structure. “Is he inside?”
Fiske nodded. “Yes.”
“Good. Tine, wait here.” Sayna said, hoping he wouldn’t disagree.
He didn’t. Sayna breathed out a quick sigh of relief as she walked the short path to the ironbound doors of glass that guarded this old building. The panels were milky and shrouded with dirt, so Sayna couldn’t see inside. But one hung askew on bowed hinges, so she slipped through the opening.
Light hit her face, slanting through the many holes in the roof. Ferns grew through the floor and flowers filled the windowsills, growing in the wood itself. 
For a moment, Sayna didn’t see Torrin. Hopefully he hadn’t told Fiske to wait outside and then run off.
But no, that was something she would do. 
He sat on one of the window sills of the second story, reached by a balcony ringing this spacious room. 
As she walked across the main area, he turned, blinking down at her. Then he slowly slid off the window and came to the balcony rail. “Sayna?”
He didn’t sound mad.
So far so good.
Sayna reached the staircase and climbed it cautiously, wary of the crumbling bits.
Torrin waited at the top, looking confused. “Do you need me for something?”
“Uh…” Sayna reached the balcony, and paused to take a breath. Then she shook her head. “No.”
He raised an eyebrow, and she quickly said, “Well, yes… I wanted to ask… are you mad at me?”
Torrin slowly leaned against the balcony rail, something made of rusted iron. “Why would I be mad at you?”
“Well because…” Sayna paused, and then had to consider her jumbled thoughts. “Well, I just…”
She sighed. “Well it made more sense in my head.”
Torrin smirked, just a little bit. Not as much as he usually did, but it was something. “Of all the creatures I am mad at right now, you aren’t one of them.”
“Oh.” Sayna blinked. Then she awkwardly leaned against the wall opposite the balcony. “Eh… um… well. Good then.”
There was a moment of silence, so silent that Sayna actually noticed some dust motes floating in a shaft of golden morning light that fell between them.
Lands Beyond, but she was bad at this.
Torrin sighed, and turned away from her, walking a little ways down the balcony as he talked. “I’m trying not to be mad at all. But what they did… I…”
He clenched a paw. Sayna straightened up. “Well, you have a right to be mad. Seven realms, I’m mad and I’m ultimately less involved.”
“They were supposed to be better.” Torrin stopped pacing and closed a paw over the iron rail. “Whenever I was shunned, or driven out, or viewed as lesser… I never argued because I assumed they were right and that I had something to prove. Some reputation to live down. I thought I had to show woodlanders I wasn’t a vermin.”
Sayna looked down as he let his paw fall to his side. “Maybe I’d rather be a vermin after all.”
She leaned against the wall again, nodding. “I’m pretty sure I would.”
She glanced up as he looked to her, and their eyes met. Sayna had to turn away. “What we did was despicable.”
“What they did.”
Sayna looked up, confused, as Torrin clarified. “You did none of this. In fact you’ve treated me better than… well, anyone else, really.”
She shrugged. “You’re aren’t afraid of me like most. And you don’t treat me like the solution to all your problems, and you don’t blame me when things go wrong. I… appreciate that.”
The wall’s stones dug into her shoulder, but she didn’t move. 
She’d been going to say, ‘and I like that about you.’ but held it in. Too forward, she didn’t even know the nature of their relationship at the moment. Assuming things tended to lead her down unkind paths.
Torrin smiled then, and that didn’t help her air of general bafflement. 
Should she just… ask? Could she just ask? Was that… ok?
“I’m glad you came to find me. I shouldn’t be moping out here and wasting guards when you have so few to begin with.” Torrin said it so calmly. 
Sayna shrugged. “It’s not a problem.”
He smirked, a little wider this time. “Indigo may disagree. By the way, do you have a plan to add to our guard’s ranks?”
“Yeah.” Sayna straightened up. “I told Indigo to just instate the new recruits. She can have them guard me, since I seem to be in the least danger at the moment.”
At that, Torrin turned fully around, and while he didn’t outright frown, Sayna could see his hesitation. She grinned awkwardly. “I’m a weapon… in and of myself. I’ll be fine.”
He shook his head. “You shouldn’t think of yourself like that. It might be how Mossflower sees you, but it isn’t true.”
Sayna didn’t know what to say to that. It was definitely endearing, but how did one respond to endearing? “Well… yes. I’m not saying that, I just meant…”
What am I saying?
“Look, I can deal serious damage. Yes, I’m a mortal being, I understand. But since we’re understaffed on guards… well, I would rather they protect my brother. You know, Brek. It’s not like I intend to run off anywhere. Those days are behind me.”
I hope.
“I suppose.” Torrin agreed, somewhat reluctantly.
He glanced over the balcony, down at the doors. “I don’t want to go back. I don’t think I can look half of them in the eyes.”
He gave her an apologetic look. “Sorry.”
“It’s fine.” Sayna said, finding the silence afterward uncomfortable. She should do something. “Hey… is your back any better?”
“By quite a bit.” Torrin pricked one ear up. “Why?”
Sayna shrugged. “When I’m mad, it helps to hit things. I was going to ask if you’d like a duel.”
Torrin blinked. “Here?”
“I mean, sure. There’s enough room.”
For a second he did nothing. And then he grinned, like he normally did. “I think hitting things would be the perfect sort of relaxation.”
“Great.” Sayna reached for her sword hilt, and then remembered that she wielded the queensword. “Um.”
She glanced at the door into this place, and started down the stairs. “Maybe Fiske has a blade I could borrow.”
He did, thankfully. The two guards had taken up positions on either side of the door, and Fiske grimaced when she asked if he’d lend her his sword for a duel.
“Will… Bloodwrath be involved?”
Sayna recalled the last duel, and how she and Tynek had shattered two swords. She quickly shook her head. “Oh, no. Nothing like that.”
Fiske sighed and drew his shortsword, holding it out for her, hilt first.
“Thanks Fiske.” Sayna gave him a quick grin, and then turned back into the gardenhouse.
Torrin stood in the center of the empty, overgrown space. He twirled his sword idly, going through stances. For a second, Sayna paused, and found herself smiling. He was getting better at those. 
He looked up as she approached, saying, “Are you sure you want to duel with blades?”
“You’ve been training, haven’t you?” Sayna asked. “I think it’ll be alright. Anyway, I figured we’d be less intense today. My side… is still complaining.”
And it was, though nothing like a few days ago.
“My back’s no better.” Torrin fell into a defensive stance, boots spaced apart for balance. “Less intense sounds fine to me.”
Sayna bent her knees, choosing an offensive stance. 
For a second, they stood in the ruins of the gardenhouse, light filtering through the broken roof in shafts around them. Then Sayna dashed forward. The blades glinted as they clashed, and Sayna grinned, strength flowing through her. This. She had missed this during her healing process.
She attempted to twist Torrin’s sword into a bind, but he stepped back, leaving her off balance. 
She caught herself and blocked his sword as he swung.
“You’re as good as I remembered.” He remarked, as she shoved his blade aside. 
He moved with her, sliding his sword out from under hers. Then he abruptly switched directions and feigned a slice at her side, stopping his blade just short of her ribs. Sayna stared up at him, re-evaluating his skill in her mind. “And you’re much better.”
He grinned. “I’d hope so.”
They were too close. Sayna took a step back, twirling Fiske’s slender blade in her paw, getting a feel for it. “Well, I can stop holding back then.”
“I’d be honored to face your full mastery, milady.”
Sayna smirked. “Fine. You asked for this, though.”
She lunged, and he brought his sword up to block hers, but she slid to the side instead. She grabbed his sword arm, twisting backwards against him and binding his sword from his paw. The next second, she’d pinned her blade against his chest.
Torrin just blinked, for a moment. Sayna untangled herself, turning to face him as he retrieved his sword. 
“What was that move?”
Sayna grinned. “A favorite of Groddil’s. It’s especially effective when fighting multiple enemies at once, and no one is ever expecting it. It helps, because once you kill the first opponent, you can throw them into the next. Or use them as a shield.”
“Alright, you have to teach me.” Torrin sounded excited again.
“Sure, it’s mostly defined by the steps, and the speed in which you do them.” Sayna stretched her healing arm as she spoke, trying to alleviate the tightness there. Germaine would never approve of this.
But Sayna found it was just what she needed.
Torrin picked up the move annoyingly quickly. Sayna found herself pinned against him on his fourth try, and she sighed. “You’re going to be better at this thanks to your height.”
He let her go, and Sayna brushed herself off. He rubbed his back, wincing a little. “Well. I suppose it’s good for something, isn’t it?”
“It’s kind of nice to meet someone taller than me.” Sayna said, and then paused. “Well… in my… general species. Most everyone is shorter than I am.”
“That’s the Luke genes.”
Sayna watched him a moment, and then asked, “Was my father tall too?”
Torrin nodded as he tested a few stances. “That I remember, yes.”
He paused. “I was a kit back then, of course. But he was taller than my father, anyway.”
Sayna stretched slightly, muscles in her side pulling taunt. That stung. She drew in a pained little breath, and looked down at her sword, and sighed. “I think that might be all I can do today.”
Torrin straightened up, and sheathed his sword. “As much as I’d like to continue, I fear I’m no better.”
For a moment, there was silence, broken by the soft chirping of insects, and birds, somewhere far off.
Torrin sighed. “I should go back.”
“Oh good.” Sayna breathed a sigh of relief, adding, “I would have felt awkward just leaving you.”
He smiled, and motioned to the old doors. “Walk with me, then?”
“Naturally.”
Sayna followed him from the gardenhouse, giving Fiske his sword as she passed. Their guards walked several paces behind, and Torrin shortened his stride so she could walk beside him.
She glanced back at the old building, saying, “You know, that makes a surprisingly good dueling arena.”
“We could actually turn it into one, probably.” Torrin said. “I’d like my own dueling arena.”
He paused, then shrugged. “Of course, Brockhall isn’t mine.”
“Eh, Bella probably wouldn’t mind. Especially considering what we’re going to face soon.”
At that, Torrin shook his head. “I don’t know how we’re going to survive this. Not with everything so fragmented.”
Sayna pricked up her ears, saying, “And yet you find a way to smile anyway.”
“What else would I do?” But he looked away a moment later. “We have to find a way to unite Mossflower. Preferably quickly.”
“I see your point.” Sayna folded her paws behind her back, before gazing into the golden tree-tops. “I’ll definitely start working on that. I think us marks need to have a serious conference. Just the four, you know?”
“Yeah. Tonight?”
“Uh.” Sayna blinked, and then nodded. “I mean, I’d be happy to. I’ll see if I can get Tynek and Rose to not go on their nightly romantic walk.”
“They do that?” Torrin asked.
“Probably.” 
Even as she said it, she smirked. She was never good at jokes. “So, where should we meet? The fountain room in Brockhall is big enough.”
“I have nothing against that.” Torrin said.
They’d made it to the back door of Brockhall again, and Sayna opened it, since she’d gotten there first. “Right. Well, I guess I’ll see you then.”
He walked inside, remarking, “Hopefully Germaine won’t complain too much about the state of my back.”
Oh. Right. Sayna grimaced, saying, “Please don’t tell her I was involved.”
He winked. “Won’t say a word.”
And then he was walking deeper into Brockhall, Fiske hurrying off in his wake. 
For a moment, Sayna watched him go, a rather stupid grin on her face. Then she shook herself. She needed to stop that.
“Er. Tine? Do you know where my brother and sister are?”
He cleared his throat, asking, “I assume you mean Prince Tynek and Lady Rose?”
“Yes.”
Tine shook his head. “Not at the moment, but I can help you find them.”
He did, though it took awhile. Rose had been attempting to teach Tynek to read, something he seemed to be having a difficult time picking up. Both agreed to a meeting of marks, however. Sayna went back to the infirmary, and let Amyl change her bandages. Her burns were fading to smooth pink skin, and she could see tiny hairs beginning to attempt to regrow. 
Perhaps it meant very little in the end, but it brought her comfort.
Afterwards, she crawled into bed and pulled out her journal. She wrote for awhile. It was hard to stop the flow of words in her mind. For the revelations Sandingomm had brought to light… those took at least three pages. 
I think those were the missing pages, in father’s codex.
Sayna stared at the walnut ink drying on the page, finally understanding the mystery of her kithood that she never could solve. 
There was never a pattern to the missing pages. And I know why now, because mentions of the vermin court must have been what they all had in common.
Should she bother asking Urran? It was so obvious now. But she supposed she would, if she remembered. 
Maybe Torrin will stand up for himself more, when these creatures turn against him and barely tolerate him. I hope so. Because he deserves this even less than I deserved what Evenglade did to me. I wish I could punch them all in their stupid faces.
That was not a queenly emotion, Sayna knew that much. 
But it was there anyway, so she wrote it with sharp, angry scratches, letting it bleed from her mind to the page. 
She felt better for it.
Maybe she could do the same with how she felt about Torrin in general? Scratch those distracting thoughts into her journal and leave them locked away in her dresser… was that possible?
Well it was worth a try.
I like him. I do. This never happened with Gruvan, and I think I feel guilty about that. I don’t know, my emotions aren’t working anymore. Or perhaps they’re working for the first time… I don’t know. Either way, I have to stop this. It’s distracting and confusing. I want to tell him so he can reject me and this can just be done. I want to close this chapter in my story. It was never supposed to happen.
But what if he didn’t reject her?
And what if it was supposed to happen?
Sayna growled in total bafflement, before slamming her journal shut. That was supposed to help, not raise even more complicated questions.
She clutched the book to her chest and flopped onto her side, staring into her mirror across the room. That just reminded her of how covered in scars she was. 
She scowled and jumped out of bed, stuffing the journal under her pillow. Then she made her way to the library, where she spent the rest of the day engrossed in the old scripts, watched over by a longsuffering guard.
Sayna eventually made her way to the fountain room, with its massive staircases and marble floors so smooth she could see herself in them.
The other three were already there, and as she joined them by one of the fireplaces, her guard behind her, Rose looked up at her with indignation. “Where were you? You missed supper.”
Oh. I did, didn’t I?
Her stomach growled. “Sorry. I’ll get something after our meeting.”
Rose pulled a plate from under the couch, salad, of course. Rose liked those. “I figured you got lost in a book. So I brought you something.”
Sayna sat by her sister, taking the salad. “Ah… kind of you.”
“Salad is healthy for you, Bloodwrath or no.” Rose held up a paw. “Mother always did tell you to eat more greens.”
Sayna rolled her eyes and took a bite, too hungry to properly care. She swallowed after a moment, looking around at the others. Torrin sat in a chair on one side of the couch, and Tynek was in one somewhat closer to the cold fireplace. A few guards stood around, but far enough away that they’d be out of immediate earshot.
She straightened up, saying awkwardly. “So. There’s a lot of unrest.”
“I know.” Rose clasped her paws together. “And after how successful the festival had been too. Creatures were coming together… no, it wasn’t perfect, but it was something. And now I fear much of that has been ruined.”
Sayna wasn’t sure how to elaborate that, Rose had said it about as well as it could be said.
So she took another bite of salad.
Torrin leaned against the back of his chair, sighing. “What you two did with your duel… Sayna and Tynek… that meant a lot to Mossflower. I could see it in their eyes. Maybe you could do something similar?”
“Another duel?” Sayna spoke around the salad in her mouth, and Rose poked her. 
Sayna swallowed, before saying, “I’m not sure we can make a better show than that. I mean, I don’t think I can.”
Tynek just shrugged.
“It wouldn’t have to be a duel. Not really, just something impressive. Something to remind Mossflower that we are the marks, no matter what they’re facing in court politics.” Said Torrin, a thoughtful look in his eyes.
“Would a solid strategy for the future help?” Sayna asked.
Torrin leaned forward. “Like a plan of attack on the Greeneyes?”
Sayna scraped what was left of her salad together, nodding. “Something like that.”
“They are much stronger than us.” Tynek said, honest worry in his tone. His voice had been showing more emotion of late, Sayna noticed.
She finished her salad and set the plate beneath the couch again, saying, “There are tactics we could employ, but I fear if we push too hard too fast, she’ll pin us into a pitched battle. That would be the end of us.”
Rose looked down, fiddling with her paws. Sayna felt a pang of guilt at bringing her sister into a war council. Rose never had liked discussing ways to harm others.
Then she looked up, and Sayna blinked at the glint in her sister’s eyes. “Is there a way we could stop them from afar? Like in archery?”
“We need more information.” Torrin said. “Like where all their towns are. If we could take some towns…”
“Do we really have to kill civilians like that?” Rose asked, frowning.
Torrin shook his head. “You didn’t let me finish. We could recruit some of their creatures, now that there’s a court of vermin. Not all the citizens of Kotir love their queen. In fact, from all I’ve seen, most don’t.”
He paused, before sighing, “And yes, I realize we wouldn’t really be giving them much of a choice. But it’s better than slaughtering them all.”
“Oh.” Rose slowly nodded. “I suppose I could see that.”
“How could we trust them?” Tynek asked. 
Torrin shrugged. “Yeah. That I don’t know.”
“There’s always risk in these games.” Sayna’s voice came out harder than she intended. “We just have to choose where we want to strengthen our defenses and where to risk it all.”
She didn’t have to mention all that hung in the balance. 
After a moment, Rose let herself shudder, and then straightened up. “Well, could Ty and Sayna’s coronation help reunite Mossflower? We can’t throw a big party like the festival, we don’t have the resources. But wouldn’t it do something?”
Sayna shook her head, feeling despondent. “Can a piece of fancy headwear change that much?”
“It’s all about appearances, Sayna.” Rose said.
“I don’t understand why.” Sayna grumbled, conceding, “But you’re right of course.”
Rose nodded, and Sayna took a deep breath before bringing up another point. “The Greeneye’s prince told me something… Gingivere, that is. Before his trial. He told me that because he sister tried to starve him to death in prison, she still owes him a trial. And he might be able to force her into trial by combat.”
There was silence, and in it, Tynek pricked his ears up. “He would do that?”
Sayna nodded. “He seemed fairly certain about the whole situation.”
“But he’s still so sick.” Rose clasped her paws, nervously. “Could he really win? I’m not sure he could even lift a sword.”
Torrin actually was started to look excited. Or at least determined. “So we buy him time to heal with repeated attacks and retreats. We push Tsarmina as hard as we can until she snaps, and then hit her with this duel. If Gingivere is still open to the idea, after everything.”
Sayna felt a sudden surge of hope. “That’s the best plan I’ve heard so far.”
Maybe, just maybe, there was still a chance.
She took a deep breath, telling herself to not feel too optimistic. Then she added, “But we have to get the courts on our side with this.”
“Amber will not agree.” Tynek pointed out, in his simple but very direct way.
Sayna looked to him, saying, “Amber may not be on her throne much longer.”
Torrin scowled. “I’d hope not, after what she did.”
“She will fight.” Tynek said.
“Oh I’m sure she will. But depending on our next council meeting, she might not have a choice. Bella and Warthorn weren’t happy with her.” Sayna crossed her arms. “And I know I’m not.”
Rose timidly raised a paw, saying, “Well, I don’t really know what we can do about Amber, but if Sayna and Tynek invited Sandingomm to their coronation, it might set an example.”
She looked down. “Even if it is a small one.”
Sayna laid her paw on Rose’s shoulder. “No, you’re right. And I say we should invite her. Even Gingivere.”
She glanced to Tynek, but he just shrugged.
Sayna turned back to Rose, asking, “When is this coronation, exactly?”
Rose sighed. “You should have come to our meeting. Bella’s having it the end of this week.”
Sayna stared. “Four days from now?”
“Well, you asked for this, didn’t you?”
Sayna groaned, and buried her face in her paws. “Yes. I guess I thought… I don’t know. I thought my fur might have more time to grow back. As it is I’m not even close to looking like a queen.”
Rose patted her shoulder. “We’ll make you look like a queen. Don’t worry.”
Sayna highly doubted that was possible. But she mustered a smile for Rose anyway. Something so small shouldn’t bother her, but it did. 
She took a look at the other marks, and smiled. Forced, yes. Painful… a little, internally. 
“Well. I guess we’re doing this.”
==Chapter 48 Mantle of Kings==
Sayna stared at herself in her mirror as Rose laced her into a dress of silky fabric the color of a sunlit ocean, the shallow bits. Swirls of teal ran up the bodice and down the overskirt, the underskirt of foam blue peeping out whenever Sayna moved.
The dress was the picture of elegance. 
She was not.
With the way the garment left her shoulders and arms bare, her burns were even more obvious. They laced down her left arm, across her left shoulder, and up the left side of her neck. Her face and hair were even worse.
Besides, she looked wrong in a fancy dress even when she wasn’t coated in burn scars. Her frame was far too… square. 
She sighed. Rose paused in fussing with the fabric, asking, “Is that too tight?”
“It’s fine.” Sayna couldn’t keep the despondency from her tone. 
Rose stepped in front of her, crossing her arms. “Sayna, what is it?”
Sayna rolled her eyes. “I look ridiculous. Scars don’t do this dress justice. And I feel ridiculous too. Are you sure I can’t just wear a nice tunic?”
“To your coronation?” Rose looked aghast.
She shook her head, grabbing Sayna’s arms. “You look beautiful.”
“I look like a contradiction.’
Rose stuck her bottom lip out, before hugging Sayna tightly. “You are more than your scars, Sayna. I know it. Everyone else does too.”
Sayna just blinked at the top of Rose’s head for a moment, before feeling a faint smile tug at the corners of her mouth. She laid a paw on her hair. “I don’t deserve a sister like you.”
“Well, you get me anyway.” Rose pulled away, before walking to a chair by the dresser and picking up a set of long, beaded gloves. “These should help cover the scars on your arms.”
Sayna pulled them on as there was a rustling, and Rose held up a cape of the same foam blue as the dress’s underskirt. “And this will hide the ones on your shoulders. There’s not a lot I can do for your face, but it’s alright.”
Rose touched a gentle paw to the bare skin of Sayna’s cheek, gauzy violet sleeve falling about her elbow. “You got these protecting all of us.”
“I know.” Sayna managed a smirk. “I shouldn’t be bothered by it. It’s uncomfortable to be missing so much fur though… it makes me feel naked.”
She gave Rose a look as her sister opened her mouth. “And yes. I am fully aware that is not true.”
“Good.” Rose looked her over one final time, and smiled. “You look like a princess. Now, we should go, everyone’s gathered outside. I know they’ll be excited to see you.”
Sayna wasn’t so sure. But she made no more arguments as she picked up the queensword from where it sat sheathed against her dresser. She just wanted this experience to be over. She told herself that most of Mossflower had already seen the extent of her injuries, since she’d already attended a council meeting. But it was so much more… obvious with the dress. Or at least it felt that way. 
It felt like she was trying to prove something she never had in the first place.
Stop that. I’ve run long enough. I am a queen, and tonight I will prove it to myself and everyone else.
Sayna lifted her chin, tightened her grip on the queensword, and measured her steps to be even. As she followed Rose down the hallway, several of her new guards, mice from her court, fell in behind her.
Rose was the one who looked like a princess, with her fluffy violet dress adorned in fabric flowers. 
Sayna shook her head, pushing unhelpful thoughts from her mind. The last few days had been full to the brim with lessons on decoram from Bella. How to walk, when to kneel, where to be, and what to do. Rehearsed words blurred through her mind and Sayna doubted she would remember them when the time came. 
They reached Brockhall’s kitchen, where Tynek and Torrin stood, appearing to be in some kind of conversation. Sayna smiled. Tynek had been trying to learn Rose’s lessons... probably the hardest he’d ever tried to do anything.
Well, outside of killing Sildrin. 
He wore red trimmed with gold, and a trailing cape of burgundy. His golden hair lay more pristinly then Sayna had ever seen it.
Rose walked to his side and gave him a little peck on the cheek, something that earned her one of his rare smiles. “You are pretty.”
She beamed like the first rays of dawn. “And you are handsome, Ty.”
Sayna rolled her eyes, an instinctual response. But she said nothing, and glanced to Torrin instead, to find he was staring at her. She touched her burned cheek before thinking, sighing. “Yes, I know I look ridiculously fancy.”
“I wasn’t thinking that at all.” Torrin protested, after taking a moment to blink. “I was just realizing I’d never seen you wear a dress before.”
“That’s because I don’t wear them. I made an exception for today.” 
Pawsteps sounded from behind her, heavy ones that made her turn to look. Bella gave her a quick look as she walked past, and relief shone in her eyes. “Sayna, thank you for doing that.”
Sayna raised an eyebrow. “I’m not entirely unreasonable.”
Bella raised her right eyebrow higher than Sayna could ever hope to, before stopping by the doors leading out. “Torrin, Rose, you’ll come with me. Sayna and Tynek… wait here until I send for you.”
She walked out, Torrin in her wake. Rose followed soon after, she just had to give Tynek a last hug. 
That left Sayna standing alone in the kitchen, near Tynek. At least half the guards followed Bella; and Tine, who’d already been in the kitchen, had the rest wait outside. He dipped his head to Sayna. “We’ll call you milady… milord. I figured you might want to discuss the situation.”
They left the doors to outside open just a crack, but not enough to be intrusive. Sayna looked to Tynek. “Well, do you want to talk about anything?”
He shrugged. But Sayna could tell he had words clinging to the tip of his tongue.
After a moment, he said, “Yes. But it is not… this. I know we are doing this. And we cannot go back anymore.”
Well that was comforting in no way, shape, or form. But he wasn’t wrong.
Sayna sighed. “I know. What did you want to talk about?”
He took a moment, and then met her gaze with his brown eyes. “You… know things.”
“Yes?” Sayna asked, finding she really had no way to guess what Tynek would say next. That… was an odd sensation.
“I am sorry.” He looked down. “I cannot ask Rose, but I trust you.”
Well… that was unexpected. What had she ever done to earn that? Sayna nodded, doing her best to act like a sister. Like Rose always did for her. “Alright. I mean… thanks I guess? What do you want to know?”
Tynek took a deep breath, then rubbed at the back of his head. “It… is hard to say, I do not know all the words.”
He tapped a claw just under his ear. “I am learning. But there are many words to… remember. Yes, that is how you say that.”
Sayna nodded, and glanced at the door. No one had come for them yet. “Well, I think we should have time. I’d try to help by guessing what you’re thinking, but I really have no idea.”
“Oh.” Said Tynek, and he looked a bit crestfallen. He scrunched up his nose, brow knitting from concentration. At last he said, “Well. We talked about… that creatures get married, remember?”
Sayna blinked at last stammering, “Uh… yeah?”
“How does that happen?”
Sayna just stared blankly, finally asking, “Do you want to marry Rose? Is that what this is about?”
Tynek took a step back. “Are you… upset?”
“No!” Sayna held up her paws. “I didn’t mean that at all. In fact, that’s what she wants anyway. She’s just waiting for you to ask.”
“Ask?” Tynek sounded confused, though he stepped closer to her again and seemed to relax.
Sayna sighed, rubbing a paw down her face. “See, this is what I was afraid of. I told her you wouldn’t know about this and to just do the asking herself. But no… this is Rose, and of course everything has to be proper and romantic.”
Tynek cocked his head. Sayna gave him a look. “I’ve never done this romance thing, Tynek. I’m not the best counselor, but I can tell you how it’s traditionally done. But know I only read about this in books. I have no real experience.”
“That is fine.” Said Tynek, looking relieved.
Sayna took a moment to consider the oddness of the situation and hope that their guards outside really weren’t listening. Then she said, “You have to ask her to marry you. Usually you give her a nice ring if she agrees… which we both know she will, this is Rose. Everyone’s expecting this.
“I hope so.” He said, looking far less sure of himself than was warranted. “Wait, everyone?”
Sayna rolled her eyes. “Tynek, the two of you are almost inseparable. You’re hopelessly cute together and now you’re even kissing in public. Yes, I’d be surprised if a single creature wasn’t anticipating you and Rose to get married. Everyone’s probably wondering why you haven’t asked her already.”
“Oh.” Said Tynek, sounding overwhelmed. “Then… it is good I asked.”
He gave her one of his watery smiles. “Thank you.”
Sayna shrugged. “It’s not a problem. So after you ask, you have to…”
“Milord, milady?” Tine stuck his head through the kitchen doors. “All is ready. Lady Bella wishes you to come now.”
Sayna blinked, then gave Tynek a little pat on the shoulder. “We’ll… talk afterwards, alright?”
He just nodded.
Sayna took a deep breath, and a step forward, and nearly tripped onto her face. Tynek grabbed her arm before she did. She righted herself, groaning, “Stupid dress.”
Tynek made an expression that was almost smirk-like, saying, “My clothes are too fancy as well.”
Sayna grinned. She couldn’t help it. “Did you just make a joke?”
He seemed thoughtful. “Did I? I think… yes, I might have.”
He held out his good arm. “Since we are being crowned, Rose says this is proper. I think. She has said a lot these last days, I am forgetting.”
Sayna took his arm, and as they walked into the golden glow of sunset, she said, “Trust me. I don’t remember half of what Bella has tried to tell me… it’s too much to remember at once.”
“I am glad.” Tynek said, glancing at her. “That I am not doing this alone.”
Sayna stared at him for a moment, and smiled at last. “As am I.”
Tine walked up the steps into the old garden, where Indigo stood at the top. Sayna followed the rabbit, pausing near Indigo as the rabbit beamed at her. Sayna cocked an ear, asking, “What?”
“Pyralis would be proud of you.” She looked to Tynek. “Of both of you.”
Sayna felt the smile tug at her face as she began walking again, and Indigo fell into step with her, back straight, blue-gray hair pinned neatly around her long ears. Her eyes twinkled slightly as she pointed to the queensword, still clenched in Sayna’s paw. “Milady?”
“Oh.” Sayna said. “Right.” 
She gave the weapon to Indigo, who held it loosely at her side, waiting for the right moment.
They walked through the herb garden, where creatures stood here and there, mostly mice. They gazed with wonder, though none got too close. Probably thanks to Indigo and Tine, who carried enough weapons for a small company.
Sayna kept her focus on her paws and skirt, trying to keep from treading on the long hem. Why did dresses have to be so difficult?
Indigo and Tine led them down a trail Sayna had yet to explore, and she glanced up into the trees lining it. Lanterns had been hung in the lower branches, and Sayna blinked when she noticed the squirrels sitting on the limbs nearest the path. Had they been… decorating? Amber had let them do that? She recalled the festival, and wondered if they had done it of their own accord.
What must it be like, to lose the respect of the creature’s you presided over? 
Sayna vowed in her heart, to never fall that far.
The pathway led to a square of open space, surrounded by trees. Flowers grew around the edges, blooming whites, pinks, and golds. Sayna held in her moment of panic at how very many creatures were here. This glade was smaller than the one for council meetings, but she was certain it was just as packed.
The crowd parted for Tynek, her, and their guards, however. Sayna wasn’t sure how they made the room, but they did, and there were not just mice here. There were otters, horses, and those of myth… Sayna could have sworn she saw two dark shapes in the deepest shadows of the surrounding trees. Had Yar and Yaz come? But they hated light.
Sayna had no more time to think on it, however. Bella stood at the back of the garden clearing, back to a raised bed of tangled wildflowers. Argulor perched on the rock wall of it, Warthorn stood a few steps from Bella, and Torrin and Rose were a little to his left. Sandingomm sat on the stone garden wall somewhat to the right of Argulor. 
A quick look around proved even Amber sat in a tree, a little behind the others.
Sayna swallowed hard and tried not to feel even more ridiculous in her unusually fancy clothing.
Indigo and Tine stopped a few feet from the council members, and the rest of the guards did too. But Sayna knew she wasn’t supposed to. She kept walking, Tynek beside her. They stopped just in front of Bella, and Sayna wondered if Tynek was internally panicking as much as she was. He certainly seemed stiff. 
Bella smiled that tired smile of hers, but as far as Sayna could guess, it was genuine.
Sayna slowly let go of Tynek’s arm, something he let fall to his side. Bella let a moment pass, before saying, “Long have we awaited this day, son and daughter of the house of Luke. Long have we sung of it, dreamed of it, and prayed it would come.”
Sayna breathed in slowly, trying to push away the guilt at having avoided this, and the fear that she now faced it. Per Bella’s previous directions, she knelt, skirt folding across the grass around her.
Movement flashed in her right eye as Tynek did the same. 
Bella looked to Warthorn, who motioned to someone Sayna couldn’t see. His general walked up seconds later, holding a thin wooden trunk. She gave it to him, then bowed and returned to the edges of the crowd.
Warthorn lifted the lid of dark wood, and Sayna blinked as Bella lifted a golden crown from the chest, one adorned with three sharpened spikes of the same metal. 
She turned to Tynek, who stared blankly at her slippers. He curled his left arm around his damaged right one, and he closed his eyes, slowly lifting his chin the slightest bit.
“Prince Tynek Luke, son of our lost prince, grandson of Cadell.” Bella smiled as she spoke. “Our mark of the star.”
She set the crown on his head, where it slipped over his ears and nestled perfectly in his hair. “Shine with the light of your fathers, and rise as king.”
He blinked, and then slowly stood, cape shifting around him.
Bella lifted a second crown from Warthorn’s box, one identical to Tynek’s in every detail. Sayna drew in a shivering breath. She’d nearly forgotten she was a part of this, for a moment.
“Princess Sayna Luke, daughter of our lost prince, and granddaughter of Cadell.”
Sayna clenched her eyes shut, doing her very best to remain calm.
“Our mark of the hawk.”
Sayna stiffened as she felt the cold metal slide over the tips of her ears, and then settle on her head. It fit like it was always meant to sit there.
“Fly with the strength of your fathers, and rise as queen.”
She couldn’t move. For a second, she just couldn’t. She couldn’t even open her eyes.
Ignasa… help me.
And something shifted. Sayna took a deep breath, and stood, feeling her skirts flowing around her legs like silken water. Then she opened her eyes. She looked up at Bella, then glanced to Tynek, and held in a nervous laugh.
Bella laid a paw on each of their shoulders, saying, “With the right given to me, I name you king and queen of the court of mice. May Ignasa be your guiding light, and may he bestow upon your reign his blessing.”
Sayna turned as Bella had instructed, dazed. Tynek did the same. 
The crowd had barely made a sound, and they were still silent, perhaps in pure wonder that this day had finally come. Right, hadn’t she been going to say something? She’d been supposed to. But Sayna couldn’t remember a word of what she'd rehearsed. 
She noticed Indigo, not too far away, and made an underpawed motion at her that she only hoped the rabbit would notice. Thankfully she must have, because she moved closer. 
Sayna took the single step between them, saying, “Creatures of Mossflower!”
She grabbed the hilt of the queensword, drawing it in a single motion and raising it in a fiery arch over her head as the flames blossomed along its blade. 
“We stand with you!”
The initial gasps morphed into cries of wonder. Sayna kept the blade aloft, steeling herself as the fire danced over the hilt and her paw that held it. It was all she could do not to drop the sword like she had when she’d first discovered its power. 
There was a soft swish to her right, and the glint of white steel. Tynek held the kingsword tip down, both paws over the hilt, and he gaped at it as ghostly flames laced down the blade.
They were far duller and thinner than those of Sayna’s sword. But they were there. 
After a moment of awed exclamations, Bella spoke from where she stood behind them, voice carrying well. “Long may the heirs of Luke reign!”
“Long may they reign!”
“Long may they live!”
“Ignasa bless them!”
The shouts of the crowd reverberated through the clearing as Sayna lowered her flaming blade. She looked to Indigo as the rabbit held out her sword’s sheath questioningly. Sayna nodded, and slid the blade into it’s waiting case. She relaxed as her paw left the hilt and the fire on it faded. No, it didn’t burn her. And it was beautiful. But it was still fire, and Sayna wished to not have contact with fire for a very long time.
“I did not know your sword could do that.” Said Bella, apparently having walked over. “Or yours, Tynek. My father must have put some kind of Blessing upon them.”
Oh. 
Sayna blinked. That made far more sense than her being a Prophet. 
Rose reached Tynek’s side then, and hugged him tightly. “Oh Ty! You… don’t know how proud I am right now.”
She looked to Sayna, before wrapping an arm around her too. “And you too Sayna! I’m so proud of you both. And this is so happy…”
She let go of Sayna, turning to Tynek again. “Ty, you’re a king! A real king!”
“Yes…” Said Tynek, sounding quite overwhelmed.
“Congratulations; lass, laddie.” Sayna turned at Argulor’s voice, to find he was bowing to them. He straightened up, golden eyes so bright Sayna was sure they actually glowed. “The myth court rejoices at this day.”
“As do we otters.” Warthorn spoke evenly, but Sayna could see the relief in his eyes, and the pride. “It is a good day for Mossflower.”
Sayna let out the breath she’d been holding, acutely aware of the band of metal fitting snugly around her forehead. Where it crossed her burnt off hair, it felt slightly cold. She did her best to hold in her shiver, one born mostly of the understanding that she was now what she’d set out to be, long ago. She was the thing she’d then said she would never be. She was queen.
Bella patted her on the shoulder, and Rose grabbed her paw in a warm grip, but she didn’t really feel like she existed. She felt frozen in time, like if she moved reality might shatter. Or perhaps, she was the thing that would shatter. 
Sandingomm said some words of excitement, and Amber gave Sayna and Tynek a cold greeting, one clearly meant to portray the opposite of her kind words. 
Sayna let them mill around her, let them say things of joy or give well-wishes. She gave wrote responses, most of them awkward. She was queen of Mossflower. She really was. What had she done?
Can I really lead them? Can I really save them?
The mice of her court gazed at her with awe, and Tynek as well. Some came to say a few words, Sayna recognized Rowan among those. Yes, he must be nobility of some sort. She should probably learn who the nobles were in her court.
After a little more of this, Bella announced that there was to be a party in Brockhall, and that any were welcome to greet the king and queen, though food was limited. 
Sayna felt a bit bad about that, but Bella said they’d used almost all the surplus food at the festival. And of course, since winter was coming, they needed to not throw anymore large feasts. Something that was entirely rational.
“Is milady lost in thought?”
Sayna jumped at Torrin’s voice, and she looked up to see him nearby. She smirked, rubbing the side of her head, clawtips brushing over the metal of her crown. “Uh… yes. As always.”
After a moment the rest of his sentence registered, and she sighed. “And just because I’m a queen now does not mean you get to start calling me milady. Enough creatures will do that.”
“I’m joking, Sayna.” He assured. “I don’t intend to always call you that.”
Oh. She smiled then, and nodded. “Sorry. This is all… a lot. I’m… well…”
How could she say she was internally panicking and not frighten him? Yes she could feel Bloodwrath at the back of her mind, clawing at her defences. Yes, her eyes wanted to burn. Yes, she felt the fear running through her every vein. But she was breathing. She kept existing. To some degree, she was in control.
She wryly smirked, asking, “Is it bad I want to spend my coronation party hiding in my room?”
Torrin stepped a little closer, and somehow, he seemed to understand. “Would it help to go with a friend?”
Sayna just blinked at him for a moment, asking, “Are you sure you want to spend the entire night with me? I’m bound to be jumpy.”
He pretended to think, then smirked. “There are worse things.”
Was he… flirting with her? Sayna had to wonder. 
No. Stop. 
And why did she actually want that to be the case?
Creatures were making their way back through the garden to the kitchen entrance, and Torrin held out his arm. “I would be pleased to walk with you, if you so wish.”
Sayna just stared for a minute, and glanced around. Rose was already dragging Tynek off, Amber disappeared into the treetops with a rustle. Well, she couldn’t stay here. She took his arm, and several guards followed them as they walked back along the path through the garden. The creatures around parted for them, though Sayna did notice some pointing and muttering. Great.
“I think some do not approve of you being so close with me.” Torrin observed, less lightheartedness in his tone.
“Well they can go find the nearest cliff, then.” Sayna wrinkled her nose at some of the more obvious offenders before thinking. She looked to Torrin instead, saying, “I’ll spend time with whoever I want.”
He smirked then. “You are truly a Luke, aren’t you?”
“Hard-headed to the bitter end, yes.” Sayna said. 
She glanced at her skirt as it threatened to trip her, and lifted it a little with her free paw lest it make good on that. “I hate dresses.”
“And yet you wear this one well.” 
They were making their way down the garden stairs, and Sayna was doing her very best not to fall on her face and look a complete fool. “I just wish…”
She paused, and stopped near the bottom of the staircase. “Wait, what?”
“You’re beautiful.” He said, shrugging. “I was just telling you, since I don’t think I ever have.”
“I…” Sayna stammered. “I…”
He leaned a bit closer, muttering, “And we appear to have an audience.”
Sayna blinked, glancing up the stairs into the garden, where not a few Mossflowerians watched them. Was she blushing? Why was she blushing?
Help!
Torrin did, when he pulled her toward the kitchen, their guards following. There weren’t many creatures in it, most had probably already headed for the main hall. Sayna managed to keep hold of her skirt as they walked through the kitchen, and when they entered a corridor, Torrin said, “I didn’t mean to startle you. I just said what came to mind.”
Sayna gazed up at him for a moment, before saying, “But how…”
Then she paused. The guards were still with them, and she didn’t really care to bring up worthless insecurities around them. In fact, it probably was just stupid to begin with. She shouldn’t bother asking… should she?
“You wish to talk alone?” Torrin guessed, in a quiet tone. And did he sound nervous?
But he’d just said he thought she was beautiful. 
Beautiful!
Friends didn’t say that… or at least, not like he had, did they?
She wanted to stop guessing. 
They reached the main hall, with its fountains, marble, and many creatures. That aspect of it was new, like the music that flowed through its echoing walls and tables set at one end. 
Here, their guards took up posts at the doors, and Sayna breathed a sigh of relief. They stood near one of the hall’s entrances, near the walls. Torrin looked at the tables, saying, “I suppose we’re expected there…”
“No.” Sayna surprised herself as she spoke. “You can’t just say something like that and not explain yourself.”
He raised an eyebrow. “What, that you’re beautiful?”
“Yes, that.” Sayna let go of his arm so she could cross her own. “What… why… I mean…”
She groaned and clapped a paw to her forehead. Instead she wacked it on her crown. “Ow…”
How did she word what she wanted to ask? Maybe a direct approach was best?
 
“Do you like me?”
For one second, Torrin looked like he was staring down a charging horse. Then he hid it with a nervous laugh. “Ah… um… you noticed, then?”
He wasn’t denying it. Sayna just stared, and for a moment, she was pretty sure her mind stopped all functions.
He sighed, still smirking wryly. “I should have known better than to try and play coy with you. You’re too smart for that kind of thing. Yes, alright, you figured it out… I won’t bother denying it.”
Sayna let her paw fall to her side. “As… more than a friend, then?”
“Er… yes.” He said that like it should have been obvious. Which was fair.
“I… I don’t know what to say.” Sayna finally confessed, after remaining silent for probably far too long.
Torrin took a deep breath and then hesitantly said, “Maybe… whatever you’re feeling?”
“Whatever I’m…” Sayna paused, then groaned. “I don’t know what I’m feeling. How could I? What if I hurt you? What if I ruin everything again, like last time?”
“Are you… upset?”
She gave him what she could only think of as a confused glare. “No… yes… I don’t know. Gahh! Torrin I…”
She clenched both paws, grumbling, “This would be so much easier if I didn’t feel the same way.”
His ears, which had been progressively drooping, pricked right up at that. “You..”
“Yes.” Sayna interrupted. “Anyway I think so. I’ve never felt this way about anyone before and I don’t know what to do about it. Was I supposed to tell you so I could have it over with and I could think again? Or should I have shoved it down and sat on it until I went mad? I don’t know. Lands Beyond, I told you and I still don’t know!”
Torrin let her rant, and then asked, “But… since you said it anyway, do you feel any better?”
Sayna blinked, unable to keep from staring up at him. This… wasn’t how any story about romance played out, was it? She certainly couldn’t think of a similar one. Right about now, one of them should run off because of a tragic misunderstanding, shouldn’t they?
And yet she gazed at him, he did the same, and nothing happened. 
“I… don’t know.” She said at last. 
Sayna looked down, letting out a long sigh. “I just don’t.”
“I can leave you alone, if you want.” Torrin looked… saddened by that prospect. “I probably moved too quickly. I should have been more subtle… why couldn’t I be subtle?”
“Wait… no… I…” Sayna snatched one of his paws, even if her brain was screaming at her. “I don’t want you to leave me alone.”
What. Am. I. Doing?
Torrin looked down at her gloved paw gripping his, then met her gaze. “So you’re… actually ok with this? With me?”
“You thought I wouldn’t be?” Was all Sayna could ask, dazedly.
“Well.” He shrugged. “I guess I underestimated you. And for that I’m sorry.”
He took a step forward, and said, “I did hope you felt like this, and now…”
He paused. “Now I’m not sure what to do.”
Sayna remained frozen for a moment longer, before managing to say, “Yeah… uh… me neither.”
She knew her gaze must be questioning as she stammered, “Can we just… go from here? Is that ok, or does this have to be weird?”
“I don’t think so… I’ve never done this before.” Torrin shrugged. “But I think that’s the only natural conclusion. At this point. It’s not like we can really… I don’t know, pretend we didn’t say all of this.”
Well. He had a point.
“I suppose you’re right. And it’s not as though I like anyone else this much… so, well.” Sayna took a deep breath, feeling a little of her mortal terror drain away. “I guess I do feel better about it.”
Torrin took her other paw, and smiled, showing dazzling fangs. Seven realms. What was she thinking, what was she doing, what had tonight even become?
“As do I.” He said, relief in his tone. “Truly.”
She smiled, not because she felt like she had to prove something, but because she wanted to. Because there was honest happiness, somewhere deep in her soul, and it just came bubbling to the surface. What was it about him that made her feel this way?
“Milady, would I be interrupting if I asked you for a dance?”
Sayna jumped at the voice, a new one, and certainly not Torrin’s. She turned her head slowly, doing her best not to look severely annoyed. She probably failed. 
She vaguely recognized the mouse standing behind her, one who’d pestered her at the festival. She couldn’t even remember his name.
“Yes.” She said before she thought. “You would be.”
Sayna glanced at Torrin, realizing she was probably being rude and improper. She sighed, saying, “That is to say, I’ve already been asked to dance.”
Torrin blinked, and then grinned. The mouse shot him a momentary glare, but bowed stiffly and retreated.
Sayna smirked. “Well, now we’ve gone and done it. But I don’t mind all that much. Maybe they’ll leave me alone now.”
“I’ll see that they do.” Torrin said. Then he paused and added, “Though I think we’ll have to dance, now that you turned one of them down in favor of me.”
“Oh probably.” Sayna rolled her eyes.
Torrin cocked an ear to the side. “You don’t want to?”
“No it’s not that… weirdly, I like dancing with you.” She admitted. “But I’m wearing a dress. I’ll be hard pressed not to trip on my skirt and fall on my face.”
“In that case I’ll catch you.” Torrin promised, unreasonably cheerful about it.
Sayna snorted, than said. “But seriously, please do. I’ve had enough injuries these last weeks.”
I don’t need to fracture my skull over a stupid dress.
In the time they’d stood on the room’s outskirts, creatures had indeed begun dancing, since there was already music. Sayna even saw Rose and Tynek attempting too, though Tynek looked out of his element like a dark dragon at noon.
She looked to Torrin, asking, “Do you remember what I taught you?”
“Relatively.” He said. “It might be nice to practice first.”
Sayna couldn’t disagree. “I’d like that myself. What with this skirt and all.”
The music was lively, played on a fiddle and lute, from what Sayna could tell. She put a paw on his left shoulder and grabbed his right paw, saying, “You lead off.”
He did, hesitantly. The first few repetitions of the steps were awkward and stumbling on both their parts. But as Sayna became accustomed to dancing with her skirt, Torrin seemed to recall what she’d shown him, and their steps became far more fluid.
“I remember trying to get out of dance lessons.” Sayna said as she spun. “I can’t believe I’m actually choosing to do this. Especially in public.”
“You’re good at it.” Torrin said.
He stumbled a little, then picked up their momentum again. “You’re better than me, anyway.”
Sayna stepped in the familiar sweeping patterns, wary of the treacherous skirt flowing around her legs. But it hadn’t tangled hopelessly around her yet. “I just had to practice. I’m clumsy compared to Rose.”
She glanced down, making sure her paws weren’t about to trip on themselves. Then she looked up again, saying, “I’m surprised though. That out of all the creatures of Mossflower, I’m the one you’d choose. I know I’m the queen, and I know my crown is a coveted prize. But… that isn’t what this is about, is it?”
“No.” Torrin danced slower than the pace of the music, but his steps were steady. “Not really.”
Sayna stared into his eyes, searching for a shred of deceit. And yet she found none. “But you must have a reason for this.”
He leaned a bit closer, saying, “Is it so hard to believe that you are my reason?”
“Well… I..” Sayna paused as she twirled, and continued as she caught his paws again. “It is hard to believe, though somehow I don’t think you’re lying.”
“I’m not.”
They were such simple words, and yet they brought more comfort than any amount of eloquence could. She glanced down as she said, “I… you don’t know how many times Roderick tried to get my father to make me marry him, all for my position. And back then I was just a mayor’s daughter.”
Sayna nearly whispered her next words, and she heard the fear lacing through them. “Now I’m a queen.”
“I don’t deny you have great power.” Torrin spoke equally as quietly, and they never stopped dancing, looping through the same steps. “But I suppose, as a mark, I have some myself.”
Sayna blinked at him as he pulled her close at the end of a twirl. 
Yes, there was certainly less incentive for him to pursue her for her standing when he had power in his own right. And yes, she had more. But the gap was greatly lessened, and the motive as well.
And she smiled. Because she did believe him.
Is this what trust feels like?
She blinked, suddenly realizing they’d stopped dancing, as the song had come to its natural conclusion. Torrin had an arm around her, but he let it slip away as he straightened up. Sayna realized they weren’t on the outskirts of the room anymore, but near the center of it. And a lot of creatures were staring.
Marvelous. Just… wonderful.
“Queen Sayna. Milord Torrin.” Sayna jumped a little at Bella’s voice, as she noticed the lady watching them from the edge of where most creatures were dancing. “A word?”
Sayna glanced at Torrin, and he shrugged. She sighed and walked toward Bella, and he followed. Bella raised an eyebrow as they neared, saying, “You two are quite the dancers, I see. I hate to interrupt… whatever that was. But Sayna, you at least should be at the head table when the feast begins.”
Oh. That was a very good point. Sayna had entirely forgotten about eating.
“We’ll… well, I’ll go.” She said. 
Torrin slipped his paw over hers, saying, “We’ll go.”
Bella blinked, and then just nodded. “Good. I’ll be there soon I…”
She looked across the room, sighed, and said, “Must check on a few things first.”
Sayna just nodded and began walking toward the table. Torrin kept up with ease. Sayna glanced up at him, asking, “So… are we… I don’t know… a couple now?”
“You don’t skirt around much, do you?” He asked. “But I’ve figured that out. Well, what do you think? You’re the one who’s been in a relationship before.”
Sayna shook her head. “This isn’t anything like that.”
He shrugged. “Maybe we just think about it for a few days, and then decide? I mean… I’ll admit I’d like that. But I can tell you’re overwhelmed tonight.”
“You have no idea.” Sayna said, already feeling the exhaustion threatening to drag her down. She wanted to go hide in her room and write ten pages in her journal about this. 
And at the same time… she didn’t. She wanted to be here.
I’ve lost my mind.
Well, she’d known that awhile ago. She didn’t suppose there was anyway to get it back, so she might as well see this through.
They neared the table, and Sayna could see Rose and Tynek were already there. She glanced at her paw in Torrin’s, and held in the desire to slam her free one into her face. Rose would never let her have peace again.
“We don’t have to let on… well… anymore than we already have for tonight.” Torrin said, letting her paw go.
Right. He had a point. Rose would already have plenty of things to say.
“You know?” Sayna snatched his paw again. “Let them make their guesses.”
He grinned, tightened his grip, and they walked to the table together. Rose looked up as they neared, and just stared for a moment. Sayna walked past her sister, doing her best not to wilt. But no. She’d made her choice. Let Rose tease all she wanted, because if she pursued this relationship farther, Rose would anyway. 
Sayna sat on Tynek’s left, at least keeping him between her and Rose. Torrin sat beside her, and let go of her paw, folding his on the table.
Rose leaned forward, despite Tynek being between them. “You two are good dancers.”
Her eyes sparkled. Sayna rolled her own. Torrin smirked a little, and Tynek just looked confused.
Pawsteps made Sayna look up, to see Indigo walking toward her. “Your sword, milady.”
Indigo leaned the sheathed queensword against Sayna’s chair. Sayna blinked. She’d completely forgotten about that. “Oh… thanks Indigo.”
“Of course.” She looked from Sayna, to Torrin, and then winked. “That was a good show the two of you put on.”
Sayna knew she was blushing. Still, Indigo wasn’t against her being with Torrin? But the rabbit didn’t seem to be. In fact her smile was knowing… almost proud. 
“Uh… aren’t you supposed to be guarding Sandingomm?” Sayna asked, hoping her corporal would not elaborate on her and Torrin’s dancing. 
Indigo nodded. “Oh yes. Don’t worry milady. She’s actually been talking with some of the other courts and doesn’t seem to be offending them… too badly, anyway.”
Sayna found some relief in that. 
Indigo bowed. “Anyway, I’m off. Back to guarding and all. Enjoy the rest of your evening, my queen.”
The rabbit walked away, shooting Sayna a wink. She sighed. How many creatures had already guessed that she had feelings for Torrin? But she met his gaze, and she smirked. 
Because oddly, she wasn’t sorry.
She looked up as creatures began finding seats at the other tables, though this one appeared to be just for the four marks. Something Sayna wasn’t complaining about.
Gingivere was hard not to notice; even relying on a staff as he did, the cat prince stood a good two heads above the tallest otters. He sat at a table, and Sandingomm plopped down beside him… not very queenly, but Sayna reminded herself she wasn’t one to judge.
Warthorn sat near the two, and actually appeared to be holding a fairly amiable conversation with them, though he did shoot Gingivere the occasional wary look. 
Sayna noticed Brek, and almost called out to him, but refrained when he sat beside Gingivere. 
What all had he been through, what had he done in her absence? She needed to talk to him, needed to bridge that rift of distance between them. She couldn’t let it grow more than it had.
But maybe… not tonight. Too much had happened already. 
Bella appeared from somewhere behind them, and told Tynek the words he needed to say to announce the feast. He did, haltingly, and soon Sayna found her plate being heaped with food.
Crisply roasted fish, shrimp stew, and boiled eggs… at least they knew how to feed a Bloodwrather. Sayna suffered herself to be given a small amount of salad since Rose swore by greens. And more importantly, because she was sitting mere feet away. 
Sayna dug into her food, enjoying the savory soup as someone poured her a drink. 
She took a few bites of fish, swallowed, and then reached for her glass. She took a large swig… and immediately regretted it.
The drink burned like fire, making her eyes immediately water, and she nearly choked when a small amount trickled down her throat. Sayna quickly grabbed her glass and put the unfortunate mouthful of pain back where it had come from. 
She wiped her mouth, breath rasping in her burning throat. “Agghe…”
What idiot had served her wine? Didn’t they know she hated that horrible stuff?
“Are you ok?” Torrin sounded like he was laughing. 
“No.” Sayna said in a rather muffled tone, pointing accusingly at her glass. “I thought they gave me water.”
At that, Torrin did laugh, and outloud too. “So I take it you don’t drink.”
“I’m a Bloodwrather, Torrin.” Sayna crossed her arms, throat feeling like it was on fire. “I naturally bottle emotion to weaponize it later. In what way would drinking a substance that lessens emotional control help me?”
He paused, and then nodded thoughtfully. “That is… actually a very good point.”
Sayna glared at her glass, saying, “And besides. If I wanted this particular flavor mixed with the level of pain I’m in, I’d go lick a splintery board.”
“Oh, it’s not that bad.” Torrin took a sip from his own glass, and immediately winced, eyes watering. 
Sayna smirked. “It’s not, is it?”
“They… do have the good stuff, don’t they?” Torrin coughed into his paw. “That’s rich creature’s wine; I always drank ale… quite a bit milder than this. And it has been a good few years.”
Someone declared a toast, and Sayna pretended to drink, though she only raised her glass to her lips. To her right, Tynek started coughing.
Rose patted his shoulder, saying, “No, you have to sip it Ty.”
He nodded, eyes watering.
Sayna scowled at her drink, and looked around for a creature serving food. But there weren’t many of them, and besides, they looked busy. There was no point in bothering them when she could just get her own water. Or tea, she needed something to replace the flavor of mildly sweet but mostly terribly bitter wood. 
“I’ll be right back.” She said, sliding her chair backwards and grabbing her cup. 
“Where are you going?” Torrin asked, blinking at her. 
Sayna held up her glass. “To find a drink that doesn’t try to kill me.”
Torrin pushed his chair out slightly. “Would you like company?”
Sayna blinked, then shrugged. “If you want. But wouldn’t you rather eat?”
“I’d rather you not go alone.” Torrin said. “Since we are short on guards and Amber’s here somewhere. Besides. I’d like more to drink than just wine… since I’m so accustomed to it.”
Sayna stood. “You’re welcome to come.”
As he pushed his chair back and stood, Rose grinned. “Are you planning more dancing? You’ve barely eaten.”
“No.” Sayna narrowed her eyes at her sister. “I’m off to find a less toxic drink, alright? That’s all.”
“If you say so.” Rose smiled sweetly, but Sayna knew what her teasing voice sounded like.
She sighed, and walked toward the back of the main hall. There was an adjoining room there, under the double staircase. And Sayna was almost certain Rose had said something about the surplus food for the feast being kept there. Surely she’d be able to find water there. 
The doors were already open a crack, and Sayna slipped in, Torrin behind her.
This room was far smaller that the great hall, but still large. Sayna hurried to the tables of waiting food and drink.
She set her glass down as she found a tray of empty ones. It took a little longer to find water, but after a few failed tastes of various semi-clear drinks, Torrin was the one to locate it. 
“Oh, good.” Sayna said. “I was beginning to fear they didn’t have any.”
He poured her some, then poured himself some. As he did, he asked, “What is it, with us and ending up in the food storage of feasts?”
Sayna took a swig of water, and the burning in her mouth faded.
“Well, at least there’s no fire” Sayna paused, took a nervous sip of water, and said, “Yet.”
“There won’t be one.” Torrin stepped a little closer, promising, “We’re going to have a perfectly normal feast, and tomorrow, we’ll find a way to convince the council of our plan.”
He sighed. “I hope. I fear our involvement with each other may anger some of the courts.”
“You’re a mark.” Sayna said. “And I’ll remind them of it if that’s what they need.”
She huffed. “Honestly. Would they go against Ignasa?”
“Some…” Torrin began, but stopped as the far door, not the one into the great hall, creaked open.
Sayna froze, then reverted to her normal instincts before she could stop herself. She ducked behind the table of drinks. After a moment, Torrin knelt beside her, asking, “What are you…”
“Shh! I don’t mind being seen with you, I actually want them to.” Sayna hissed. “But I just realized what this might appear to be to some.”
He blinked, and then nodded, scooting a little closer to the table. 
Bootsteps and the whisper of slippers filled the room, and Sayna winced when she heard Bella’s voice. “I can’t find anything. I know something’s off, but I can’t find the source.”
“I went around Brockhall’s entirety.” Groddil was the one who responded. Sayna’s heart sank, and she hoped even more that they would not be found.
Why had she hidden? That just made everything look worse!
But then… only if they were caught.
“Even your basement.” Groddil said. “Even the mostly flooded bits. There’s nothing that I can find.”
Bella sighed. “I know, I just… I’m on edge. And I don’t know why.”
Groddil didn’t disagree. “No, I feel it milady. Against all rational knowledge, I do.”
They’d stopped near the door leading into the main hall, and Sayna held her breath. She was pretty sure Torrin did too. All the two Prophets would need to do was turn around and look in the right direction.
“How is Asher?” Bella asked, and Sayna instantly recalled Groddil’s infant nephew.
Groddil smiled fondly as he pushed the door open. “He’s a good lad. He went to sleep with no difficulty; I’ll check on him soon. But it’s too late for him to be up.”
Bella nodded, but Sayna didn’t hear her reply as she’d already walked through the doors. Groddil followed. 
As they vanished from sight, Sayna breathed a sigh of relief. Torrin stood, before gazing after them and holding out an absent paw to help her up. Sayna took it, getting to her paws as Torrin said, “I wonder what they’re worried about.”
Sayna topped off her water, saying, “I really don’t want to get involved if I can help it.”
She touched her burned cheek, feeling the fabric of her right glove shift and chaff against the bare, mostly healed skin of her wrist. “I’ve done enough of that. Besides, they’re Prophets. They can deal with this… and Groddil said he didn’t find anything. Trust me, his searches are thorough.”
Torrin nodded, then started for the doors. “We should get back to the feast before someone else comes.”
“Oh. Yeah.” Sayna followed. She didn’t need more rumors starting than there already probably would be.
They slipped from the door, and hurried back across the main hall to the feast. Sayna slid into her seat, catching her sword as it tried to fall. She laid it on the floor to prevent that from happening. 
She straightened up and set her glass on the table, before eating a spoonful of soup. Sayna tried to remember to keep her elbows near her sides, though it looked like Torrin had forgotten that rule, and Sayna wasn’t certain Tynek had ever learned it. Only Rose succeeded in table manners. 
The night continued on, full of toasting, and for the most part, good cheer. Sayna did notice Amber sitting mostly alone and drinking excessively. And Sayna doubted Amber replaced her wine with water. That… probably wouldn’t end well.
Sayna finished her fish and blinked at the mouse who served her even more food. She couldn’t eat that much… or at least, she shouldn’t. Not if she wanted to be able to move.
The music was nice, her chair comfortable, and she’d faced a great fear tonight… and won. Sayna felt her tense muscles relax, and thought for once, everything might be alright. Just for these moments.
She’d just finished her salad, when a yell made her jump.
She looked up, to see Amber staggering from her table, clearly intoxicated in the worst degree.
“They shouldn’t be here!” She was glaring at Sandingomm, and Gingivere even more so. Warthorn leapt from his seat at the table, and grabbed Amber’s shoulder to stop her from approaching the two cats. 
“You’re drunk, Amber.” Sayna could imagine his teeth grinding together as he spoke.
She flicked her brush of a tail, turning her attention to the otterking instead. “You… you vermin-lover… get out of my way!”
Warthorn bared his fangs, and Sayna got an uneasy feeling in the pit of her stomach. What would happen if two leaders of courts got into a brawl at her coronation? Should she try and stop it? Could she even do anything?
“You’re all traitors.” Amber ranted. “You’d talk ta filthy cats and that Luke queen’d sooner kiss a halfblood than a natural creature. Step aside before I make you! I thought you were a friend of Mossflower!”
“Funny.” Warthorn’s voice was cold, crisp, and scarily precise. “I thought the same about you.”
The music hadn’t ground to a halt, but it was sweeping through a softer melody, and a lot of conversations in the immediate area had stopped. Anyone who’d noticed stared at the otterking and the squirrelqueen, and Sayna watched with bated breath.
How long before one pulled a dagger on the other? 
“Lad, lassie!” Sayna started horribly as Argulor dropped from above, landing between and bit to the side of Amber and Warthorn. Both took a step back.
Sayna gazed at the rafters of the arching ceiling, and was sure she saw a singed spot above where Argulor had landed. He smiled, ruffling his glowing chest feathers. “I know there are disagreements among us, but honestly? Tonight of all nights?”
Warthorn’s anger receded from his face, but Amber’s did not. She shoved Argulor, glaring at Warthorn as she snarled. “You think you’re so high and mighty because you own the river? Well I have the largest army, think about that! Maybe I don’t need you. Maybe I don’t need any of you and your disgusting vermin! I’m the only one loyal to old Mossflower anyway!”
“If you think that, Amber.” Warthorn flexed sharp webbed claws. “Maybe it’s us who don’t need you.”
Sayna felt a chill slide down her spine. That wasn’t good. She glanced at Torrin, to find he wore the same sort of expression, one of wary concern. She looked to Tynek… and her mind was momentarily averted from the situation at paw.
Her brother’s face held sorrow she’d never seen him express, not even when Pyralis died. And… was he crying?
Sayna glanced at Amber and Warthorn, still at each other’s throats, and then back at Tynek. 
“Um.. Tynek?” She laid a paw on his shoulder. “Are you ok?”
What about the two leaders could make him so emotional? Her mind started down deep paths, like if fighting reminded him of slavery or how she used to yell at him… but he’d certainly never reacted this way before.
He slowly looked to her, blinking away tears. “Sayna?”
He sounded like he’d been knocked off a running horse and landed on his head. Dazed was a good word for it. Sayna glanced at his cup of wine, and froze. The sizable glass was completely empty.
Sayna turned her horrified gaze to meet her brother’s teary one. “What did you do?”
“I killed Rose!” 
He didn’t outright wail it, which Sayna was glad for. And she found that in this light, she was glad Amber and Warthorn were fighting, at least Mossflower’s attention wasn’t on their very drunk new king.
Sayna groaned, turning his chin to his right. “No, you didn’t. Look, she’s right there.”
Tynek stared blankly for a moment, and then sniffed. 
“Rose!” Sayna hissed, leaning in front of Tynek. “What do we do, Tynek’s drunk! Tell me you have a plan!”
Rose always had a plan.
Her sister turned to her, blinking slowly. Then a wide grin spread across her face, and she giggled stupidly. “Ty, you have a crown!”
Sayna gaped.
Rose did not have a plan. Rose was drunk too.
“How much did you drink?” Sayna gasped in dismay. “You’ve barely touched wine Rose, I thought you were smarter than that!”
Rose shrugged, in the most sluggish manner possible. “They… we… kept having toasts, and I had too. Sayna, you need to be more polite.”
“Not if it turns me into a vegetable… Rose!” Sayna knew she sounded betrayed. She felt betrayed. Rose was the mediator, the motherly one who always picked up what Sayna broke. She took a deep breath. She would need to take her sister’s place for the moment.
But how to be Rose? Rose was… well, she was Rose.
“Ok.” Sayna said. “No one panic. We just need to get you both water and someplace where no one can see you…”
“Ty!” Rose said, like a complete fool. “You look nice with a crown.”
Tynek sniffed. And then he grabbed Rose in a hug and sobbed, “I killed you!”
Rose giggled again and hugged him back, stroking his hair. “Oh no Ty, I’m ok.”
“But I…” Tynek paused for a second, as if thinking. Then he cried a little harder, and Sayna got the feeling it was partially due to confusion. “I hurt you.”
“Not really.” Rose smiled. “And it’s ok, I love you.”
Tynek blinked and seemed to calm down a bit. Sayna let out a sigh of relief. Even while drunk, Rose had a calming presence to him, apparently.
Seconds later, more tears came. “I hurt you and… I’m sorry… I love you!”
Sayna stared at Tynek. He was a mess, with tears matting the fur beneath his eyes. “Marry me!”
Rose didn’t even hesitate. She ruffled his hair, even her drunk laugh was dainty, like bells. “Ok!”
Sayna felt her paw fall to her side. That… she had no words. She doubted there could be a less dignified marriage proposal. When she’d given Tynek advice earlier tonight, this had not been what she was picturing.
“Tynek!” She hissed, shaking him, but he ignored her. Rose did too. 
Somewhere, deep down, Sayna had to wonder which of her deeds was the one to warrant this sort of punishment.
She fell back in her chair, staring dumbly at Tynek and Rose, one sobbing, the other jovial, and hugging each other like they’d never let go. She glanced to the middle of the room, where Bella had joined the argument between Warthorn and Amber. Sayna caught a bit of movement by one of the great hall’s doors, and noticed Sandingomm and Gingivere secretly slipping out. That might just have something to do with the fact Amber was screaming about killing vermin.
Sayna ran a paw down her face, groaning, “How can tonight get worse?”
She looked to Torrin, gesturing at the chaos. “This is why alcohol is terrible. And who gave it to Amber? Amber! She’s already always angry enough to rip a door off its hinges!”
Torrin blinked, and then smirked, leaning toward her a bit. “You know… you’re cute when you’re mad.”
Sayna stared dumbly at him. Even for him, that was a little too much. She looked at his glass, and sure enough, he’d drunk a good fourth of it.
“Torrin!” She squeaked, voice sheering. “Not you too!”
“Not me what?”
Sayna grabbed his shoulder and shook him. “Torrin! I do not want to deal with this by myself. Don’t leave me, the two of them might as well have bathed in the stuff!”
She pointed at Tynek and Rose. Torrin looked past her, and his grin faded, before he straightened up. Good, he still had some of his wits left.
“Oh… that’s not good.”
“No kidding… One of us needs to watch them while the other one gets them water!” Sayna said.
Torrin jumped up, still clearly agile on his paws. “I’ll go.”
He hurried off, and Sayna did her best not to panic at the chaos surrounding her. At least most attention was on Amber, not Tynek and Rose. Even some of her guards, meant to have been stationed at the doors, had hurried over to the leaders’ argument in case they were needed.
Sayna leaned back in her chair, leaping up as there was a thud, and Tynek collapsed, partly in Rose’s arms, and half off his seat. He slumped to the ground, mostly under the table. Rose plopped down beside him, still sounding unreasonably cheerful. “Ty, wake up silly!”
Sayna pushed aside Tynek’s chair in her haste to check on him, and instantly breathed a deep sigh of relief. He was breathing, snoring in fact. Just clearly unconscious. 
Rose patted his hair, saying, “It’s ok… sleep is good for you too.”
Sayna groaned, and stood up, looking around for someone she could call to help. Indigo… where was Indigo? The rabbit always knew what to do. Sayna peered into the chaotic crowd, glad some of them were still seated. Blue-gray fur, long ears, and a smart red and gold uniform… Indigo wasn’t hard to spot so why…
Sayna froze.
Dark fur, a shifting shadow at the left of the great hall, sliding along the wall. Why would someone be sneaking unless they were up to no good?
Sayna reached for her sword hilt, and then realized her weapon wasn’t at her waist because she was wearing a dress. Stupid dress! She snatched her sword from where it lay to the right of her chair, and then scanned the room’s wall, trying to see the wraith-like movement again.
For a second, nothing happened. And then she caught a glimpse of the creature as it stepped through a shaft of bluish light near one of the double doors. 
The fur wasn’t just dark, it was as black as the finest ink, a splotch of stark white on the mouse’s chin and chest.
Sayna gripped the sheathed queensword, gaping at the creature as he slipped to the door, cracked it open, and slid through like a whisper of night.
For one second, Sayna found she couldn’t move. And then in the chaos, with the uproar masking her, she gave chase. She yanked her skirt up around her knees and bolted for the door, kicking off her tapping slippers by way of instinct. 
The creature that bore that face was dead, wasn’t he? 
Sayna dashed through the doors, still slightly ajar, and held close to the shadows in the corridor’s walls. 
No, there the creature was, running down the hallway. And in no way did he not look guilty. 
He turned left at a corner, and Sayna ran faster, giving chase to the shred of her past. He slid through these halls like a memory, and could that be what he was? A fragment of emotion given life by magic? But he did not glow.
He ran down a set of stairs, and Sayna ducked against the wall at their top.
She peered from behind it ever so slightly, to find he was looking up the staircase, but not at her; where she’d been moments before. Sayna felt her stomach clench. She drew back behind the wall, forcing her breaths to be deep, but silent.
How, and why, was Roderick here?
She’d seen the dismembered bits of the Evengladian’s in the swamp, and Roderick had been leading them, right? He’d somehow survived?
She laid a paw on her sword hilt, ready to draw the flaming blade, leap down the stairs, and confront him once and for all. Even in a dress, she was more than a match for him. 
A mewling cry of a kit whimpered in the moment of silence. 
And Sayna froze, paw on the queensword hilt, a second from drawing the blade.
Roderick murmured to the little one Sayna couldn’t see, and she peered out from the wall again, to see he rocked an infant, swaddled in many blankets. He glanced warily around as Sayna ducked back out of sight, and she crouched against the wall, trying to ignore the pricking pain at the back of her eyes.
Then she heard Roderick’s whispering pawsteps start up again.
Sayna knew she should run for help, that she should in no way do this alone. But this was Roderick! And there was only one kit that Sayna knew of in Brockhall.
Asher.
== Chapter 49 Soul of my Soul ==
Questions pounded through Sayna’s mind like her pawsteps did on the stones. Roderick was here? Even if he had survived why would he dare to come back? And why did he have Asher?
He was fast, far faster than ever before, and far better at clinging to the shadows. 
Several times, Sayna lost track of him. She had to freeze, still herself, and listen. His steps, soft as they were, did echo. Each hallway she turned down felt endless, some sporting glowing water, and some not. She didn’t know where she was anymore. Somewhere in the depths of Brockhall, the twisting tunnels that had no apparent end.
Where had Roderick learned to be so stealthy? 
Finally, she lost him altogether.
Sayna stood still, trying to hear the whisper of pawsteps, but she heard nothing. Why hadn’t she struck Roderick down when she had the chance? That was Groddil’s nephew! And she’d just let him be kidnapped.
Steps at last rang in her hearing, but they weren’t quiet, they were bootsteps. 
“Sayna?”
She pricked her ears up at Torrin’s voice. He could help her!
He rounded a corner, and blinked at her. “There you are! Why did you…”
He must have noticed her expression, because his face grew serious moments later. “What’s wrong?”
“Roderick! He’s back from the dead… somehow. And he’s kidnapping Groddil’s nephew!”
Torrin cocked his head, brow knitting, and asked, “What?”
Sayna rolled her eyes. She knew it sounded crazy, but she had no time to explain. “I have to find him… help me?”
Torrin nodded slowly, still looking confused, but he hadn’t told her she was insane yet, so that was a good sign. “Well, if he’s trying to escape, he’ll be headed for the exit and the kitchen is near here. We should go check, it’s this way.”
He started off, and Sayna rushed after him, a flood of gratitude in her heart. 
Why? He listens like no one else, but why?
She would have to ask later. 
They burst into the kitchen, Torrin drawing the dirk in his belt, hidden beneath his short orange cloak. That was a perk of being male… being able to wear weapons to a fancy party and not be questioned about it. 
Sayna had her sword, at the very least. 
The kitchen’s dimly lit interior revealed no sign of Roderick or Asher.
Torrin ran toward the door, saying, “I’ll check outside!”
“I’ll follow you in a moment, will you be alright?”
If there was to be a confrontation, she could not do it with this skirt flowing about her legs. No, it hadn’t tripped her yet, but holding it up meant she had only one arm to fight with.
“This is Roderick, how dangerous can he be?” Torrin said, before disappearing through the doors.
Sayna set her sword on the rustic table nearby, and began hitching up her skirts. Just like she’d done in Evenglade when she’d ridden Dancer. But it had been so many years, and her paws fumbled over themselves from urgency.
Torrin was right, he could deal with Roderick. He had grown adept with the sword and Roderick could hardly say the same. But something was off.
Sayna grabbed fistfulls of her flowing skirt, pulling it between her legs and behind herself. 
Why would Roderick be after Asher?
She wrapped the sides of her skirt around her waist, tying it as securely as she could. She grabbed the queensword and buckled its belt over the tied skirt. That should help hold her new, lumpy semblance of pants.
Sayna ran to the doors, pushing them open just enough to slip out into a cool autumn night. Her mostly bar legs could certainly feel the chill.
Torrin was nowhere to be seen.
“Torrin!” She hissed, though not too loudly. What if Roderick was hiding somewhere?
Sayna ventured farther into the evening gloom. The sun had set, and the moon and stars were hard pressed to shine through the canopy of Mossflower. Around her, the shadowed woodlands seemed endless, twisted darkness.
Her bare paws felt every stick and stone in the grass of the clearing surrounding the entrance to Brockhall’s kitchen, and she longed for boots. 
That was, until she stepped in something wet. 
Sayna froze, and lifted her paw, squinting at the pad’s surface in the gloom. But she could see the red smearing across it. Quickly, she bent down enough to look at the ground. Small, dark splatters, slick and shiny in the dim moonlight; that was blood. And fresh blood too.
Roderick’s, or Torrin’s? Sayna followed the trail as quickly as she could in the darkness. It was sporadic, whoever had been injured wasn’t losing too much blood. Sayna supposed she should be glad of that in the case this was Torrin, but it made him hard to follow. She kept losing track of the droplets, on leaves and grass as they were, and as the minutes passed, her eyes became increasingly painful. Pink even began growing on the edges of her vision as she chased the blood trail deeper into Mossflower.
Stupid dress! Stupid me! Why did I let him go alone?
But Torrin could fight, and well. Had Roderick snuck up on him from behind?
Not him too.
Just another name to add to her list of creatures she had led to their deaths. And this was even worse. He’d just confirmed there was more between them, and she certainly felt it. 
Everything and everyone I get too close with…
No. She had to stop panicking. She had to breath. It would be alright, it had to.
“You always thought you were better than me.”
Sayna froze. She knew Roderick’s voice, snotty, imperious, and condescending. “Well we’ll see how much better you are after I’m done with you.”
Sayna dashed toward the noise, keeping her pawsteps as light as possible. She ducked against a tree, and peered around it. Her vision clouded with red in seconds. Roderick was facing her, Torrin on his knees before him. Sayna was just in time to see him slash a knife down the length of Torrin’s face, jaw to nose.
She barely understood she’d moved until she found she was bolting towards the two, blue fire swirling down the queensword as she drew it. Roderick had time to dodge backwards, just slightly, as Sayna bought her blazing sword cleaving down at him. 
She’d misjudged the distance in the dark, and the red haze. The tip of her sword caught Roderick in the face, tearing down his nose and jaw. He collapsed with a whine, not even a full scream.
Sayna wheeled around, crying, “Torrin!”
He stared up at her, unmoving. Then he pointedly looked at something behind her.
Sayna turned again, staring at the dark figure who’d been standing a little behind Roderick, hidden in the shadows of night. It held the bundle that was Asher, and a long staff. 
Where had she seen that staff before… wait. No.
She grabbed Torrin’s shoulder, shaking him a little. He had to get up, they had to run! “Torrin, that’s a Necromancer…”
“He knows.” Said the hooded figure, in that horrible monotone. 
Sayna glanced down at Torrin, noting how stiff he was. Like he was frozen… or caught in the grip of magic. She spun around as Ferran’s demonic shadow said, “And you killed my familiar.”
For a moment, the world turned red. For a moment, Bloodwrath nearly broke through all the barriers Sayna had put up, all the boundaries she’d learned to set. All she knew was that she couldn’t let Torrin die too.
“Sayna!”
His desperate yell suddenly crashed through her thoughts, a breath of fresh air in a sea of red. He must have broken free, or Fragorl had released him.
Sayna blinked hard. She couldn’t see, she needed to see!
“Come back to us; you need us.”
Sayna jumped horribly, screaming, and probably aloud, “Ignasa!”
Bloodwrath’s grip lessoned, and Sayna gasped ready to be impaled any second as her vision began returning, and all her senses began flooding back. She could feel her bare paws pounding on the ground, and could see the vague, dark shape of Fragorl ducking, weaving, and leaping above her strikes.
In this hazy state in between sanity and madness, Sayna knew she was moving at incredible speed with dreaded accuracy. But Fragorl was just as fast, and even slightly faster. She still held Asher, and at last, Sayna understood why. Ferran had returned for his heir.
Would that fox stop at nothing?
She slid to a stop as Fragorl leapt up, lighted in a tree, and held out her staff. It changed, like long ago, when she’d tried to kill Sayna before. Only this time, it didn’t make a sword, but a crossbow. 
Sayna dodged the first black bolt, throwing herself to the side as it hissed into the ground where she’d been standing, pulsating with cracks of poison green light.
Torrin ran to her side, blade drawn, blood slicking the fur on the left side of his face. Sayna wasn’t sure what he could do to help, but at least she wasn’t alone is this fight. Fragorl shot again, and instinctively, Sayna raised her sword. There was an audible ting, and the bolt vaporized the second it touched the blade.
For a moment, Fragoral stared down from her perch in the tree, and Sayna stared defiantly up. But how could she reach Asher like this?
“Face me, coward!”
Sayna doubted insults would work, but she was hardly above them. Her words earned her a crossbow bolt she only narrowly dodged. It tore through the fabric heaped around her waist, and she felt the tip graze her fur.
She could not win this.
“Torrin, get help!”
His words dripped with what must be deep internal conflict. “And leave you here?”
“I have the magic sword!”
Last time, she’d had Groddil to help her. She glanced at Torrin, saying, “Get Groddil!”
He just stared behind her, where Fragorl was. Sayna jerked her head around, expecting a crossbow bolt to the chest… but Fragorl was staring too. Groddil himself came catapulting through the air, though not in attack of the Necromancer. He fell, back toward her, and Sayna felt a chill.
Where was Ferran?
He came bursting through the treetops, green, magic-formed sword drawn and ready to impale Groddil wherever he landed. Sayna didn’t even have time to scream in dismay.
A blue chain streaked out from Groddil’s wrist, and it caught in a nearby tree, jerking him to the side and out of harm’s way. Ferran cursed, and Fragorl threw herself from the tree, out of his path.
She landed awkwardly on the ground, crossbow reverting to its staff form, just as Ferran hit her tree with a splintering crash, and several branches rained to the forest floor.
Sayna didn’t hesitate. Now would be her only chance. 
She dashed for Fragorl, still recovering, and holding Asher. Sayna let a bit of fear give her a burst of strength, and she brought a two-pawed slash at the Necromancer’s waist. 
Fragorl’s staff flickered, changing to a sword of black and green magic… but Sayna’s cut through its form, making the magic waver for a second, before reforming. With nothing to slow it, the blade slammed into the tree Fragorl had perched in moments ago.
The Necromancer screamed. She actually raised her voice, something drowned out in a gurgle from the black blood draining from her mouth. She staggered, and Torrin lunged for her in her momentary weakness. He snatched Asher from her paws; the kit was crying now. Torrin ducked away, something Sayna was glad of as she struggled to yank her sword free.
Fragorl had a paw clamped to her side, but her staff still transformed into a crossbow, and she still aimed at Torrin’s back.
Red blossomed across Sayna’s vision, like flowers, or flowing blood. She wrenched her sword free of the tree trunk with ease, leaping at Fragorl with all she could muster as Bloodwrath hissed in her mind like a thousand snakes.
“Use us!”
“No!”
She screamed against the madness, screamed against the fact she wouldn’t be able to stop Fragorl from pulling the trigger, and the fact she wouldn’t be able to stop the bolt.
A final shred of sanity gave her the answer.
She twisted midleap, turning her back to Fragorl as she reached for the crossbow. She shoved it downwards just as it went off.
Torrin yelped, and hit the ground hard. Sayna knew she was panicking, and she had to stop, she had to stop now! Her back was to an enemy, Torrin might be dead, and what had happened to Groddil?
“Let me go!” 
Her own scream felt far away, and she knew she was falling as reality vanished. “Let me go, you do not own me!”
“You will pay for what you’ve done.”
Sayna stared up at the transparent hallucination forming in the darkness above her, and felt cold. Never before had Bloodwrath distinguished them as separate entities.
Bloodwrath thrust her face inches from Sayna’s. “I hate you.”
“Y… you?” Sayna managed to gasp. It wasn’t calm here, like it had once been. She still felt like she was falling, her stomach somewhere far, far above her consciousness, back in reality. Was she even completely here? Was a part of her still resisting this?
Bloodwrath fastened both paws around her throat, tightening her grip as she snarled, “You turned to him, you betrayed our master!”
Sayna coughed, grabbing Bloodwrath’s paws and trying to pry them free of her neck. “I don’t…”
“We are one no longer.” A horrible smile twisted Bloodwrath’s face. “He will free me of you, if I do this.”
Pain. 
Sayna felt her back arch at it, terrible and consuming. Bloodwrath laughed as the feeling of falling reversed, and she began to fade, particles of her drifting away. She grabbed Sayna’s chin, opening an impossible grin accompanied by the sound of breaking bones and tearing muscles. 
“I win.”
And then she was gone, a red vapor in the rushing blackness.
Reality came back in painful gasps, pain so intense Sayna couldn’t feel the burning in her eyes. Even as the red receded, her vision wavered.
She coughed, feeling a flood of warmth rush from her mouth, salty and sharp. Her breath gurgled in her lungs.
A pained monotone voice rang in her ears, like many voices at once. It echoed far too much… she was in a forest, wasn’t she?
“You thought you could defeat a Necromancer, mortal?”
Sayna shrieked as the pain radiating from the left side of her torso intensified tenfold, and she felt metal slide free of her body. She fell to her knees and elbows, trying to breathe, but it was hard when she kept vomiting blood.
A swish filled her ears as dark fabric filled her vision, and Fragorl limped past her, black and poison green sword dripping crimson.
Sayna’s blood.
It was all around her, Sayna realized. Down her dress, her left leg, and the ground below her.
I’m going to die.
Her internal self was far too calm about that. There was a bubbling hole in her left lower torso, and the voice in her head was calm?
Her vision wavered, but she could see the fire of the queensword where it lay on smoldering dirt, still in her paw.
Fire. She was bleeding out, hadn’t Rose said something about cauterizing wounds? 
She didn’t have time to question it.
Before she could think more or second guess her last minutes of consciousness, she tightened her grip on the hilt of her sword, and brought the flat of the flaming blade against her injury.
She expected searing pain, and to a degree, there was. But in the face of the agony ripping through her, it was almost a mercy to lose feeling in that area, even if it was burned away. Hooves sounded around her as she pulled the sword away from herself. There was still a hole in her back… she had to fix that…
With the pain she was in twisting around made a groan escape her lips. She brought the flat of her sword against where she hoped the hole was, but she was growing dizzy. The worst of the pain seemed to have faded, and her weapon slipped from her claws, thrusting the immediate area into darkness.
Where was Torrin? And where was Fragorl?
She could hear madness around her, shouts, the rattle of Groddil’s chains and the crash of metal. Flashes of blue and green lit the night like lightning, and it was no less disorienting. Creatures were fighting all around her, and she attempted to crawl toward where she’d last known Torrin to be.
The instant she moved, pain wracked her side, and she felt her cheek hilt the ground a second later.
She lay there, unable to move, and just struggling to breath. Every few moments, blood flowed into her mouth, then dribble from her lips.
I really am going to die this time, aren’t I?
Why was the world so cold? So… distant? And how long had she been laying here?
From where she was, she could see the black forest canopy, and the glittering stars above. 
I’m… not done yet.
This couldn’t be the end. She still had so much to do… she had a nation to save, a court to look after, a war to fight. A sister to protect, a brother to guide… she hadn’t even gotten to kiss Torrin yet!
Do I want that?
Maybe she did. 
Maybe it didn’t matter anymore. 
She felt the tears trickle from the corners of her eyes like the blood from her mouth. It didn’t do much for her vision, since that was blurry anyway.
“Sayna!” The voice was nearby, but she could barely turn her head. Everything was heavy and cold… and sleepy. She was terribly sleepy.
If you go to sleep, you’ll never wake up.
Her mind had a point. And she didn’t want to die like that, alone, lost in the blackness of unconsciousness.
Paws lifted her torso from the ground, and she apparently still could whimper. The movement made it feel like she was being stabbed all over again. Someone brushed her bloody hair out of her bloody face, and arms pulled her against warmth. 
“Sayna… oh Hellgates… Sayna, please answer me!”
Torrin sounded more frantic then she felt. She wished she could say something, but all she could manage was a pitifully weak smile. At least he was alive.
She heard the shredding of cloth, and felt strips of it being wound around her waist. Maybe… maybe she would be alright. But she was terribly cold. 
After a moment, Torrin pulled her into a tight hug, pressing his forehead against hers. That was nice; at least he was warm. His voice, though. It was a strangled, broken sound. “Not you too, please?”
Sayna felt a pang of guilt.
He’d lost everyone, hadn’t he? Everyone who had ever mattered to him. He made it easy to forget, with how much he smiled, and how little he let it show.
“I’m… sorry.” She managed to force those words out.
These were her last moments, weren’t they?
He was moving now, staggering to his paws and stumbling along, though he clenched his teeth with each miserable step he took. He must have been wounded somehow.
Her head lay against his shoulder; at least that was comforting.
I hope you find someone who cares for you as much as I do.
Tears leaked from her eyes as she thought the rest of what she wished she could say. Someone far better than me. 
Sayna could still feel him there, even if her vision had gone black.
And then he faded too, lost to an abyss of darkness. Endless, empty, and terribly cold; she fell.
Maybe she would fall forever.
><><
Brek’s evening had been… surreal. Yes, that was the best he could describe it as. Surreal. 
Sayna had been crowned queen, and she’d shown clear affection for a creature. That was enough to send him reeling in and of itself. But then Amber had started a fight, Sandingomm had wisely taken Gingivere someplace safe, and Rose was exceedingly drunk.
He knelt beside Rose, trying to keep her upright, while Bella fished a very unconscious Tynek from beneath the table. Bella tsked her tongue, cradling Tynek with no issue. “The idiot. I’ll take him to the infirmary, you sit with her until I come back.”
Brek sighed as he watched Bella hurry off. He supposed that even while terribly drunk, Rose was more tolerable than Amber. And Amber was drunk too.
Why did creatures think this was a good idea?
Rose patted his shoulder, giggling. She was far more intelligent than this, or at least, she should be. From all Brek had seen, even Whegg had drunk himself silly. That was a first for him… though Brek supposed this was the first party he’d attended while off duty.
“Is she alright?” Redfarl asked worriedly.
“She’s…” Brek gave his sister a look as she cheerily waved to none-exsistant creatures. “Fine.”
Redfarl had spent most of the party near him, since being around her mother wasn’t an option. And Birch tagged along, as well as Ayml from the infirmary. Apparently Redfarl had befriended her too.
The two watched from one of the other tables.
Ayml came over, saying, “Mother says that it’s important for a drunk creature to drink water.”
Redfarl jumped up. “Ooh, I’ll get some!”
She ran off, Birch chasing her. “Wait for me, milady!”
Rose patted Brek’s hair, musing it. “Brek… did I ever tell you how nice it is that you’re not dead anymore?”
Brek blinked at her. Their last few conversations had been arguments about Tynek. 
“Um… no, I don’t believe so.” He said, mostly to keep her occupied.
“Well, it is. You’re my favorite brother.”
“I’m your only brother.” Brek pointed out, even if her words did leave a bit of fuzzy warmth in his chest.
Rose giggled like that was somehow uproariously funny, and patted his cheek. “And you’re still my favorite.”
Despite it all, Brek smirked. “You know, thanks. I’m glad you aren’t dead either.”
“Oh, that’s nice.” Said Rose, staring off at one of the sets of doors. “Did Salley catch the shadow creature?”
Brek blinked at Rose, asking, “What?”
At that moment, Redfarl came running back, Birch trying to keep up. She helped Rose drink some water, and moments later, Brek looked up as trotting hooves rang out. Luna came toward them, radiant feathers aglow in the blueish light.
“Bella met me in the hallway… is Rose as drunk as she claims?”
Rose reached for Luna’s face, slurring her words. “Luna! You have rainbow feathers!”
Luna groaned. “Yes, I see she is. Honestly, can’t a creature go on a simple walk? There are too many emotions in this room; I couldn’t be around…”
She paused, then held a wing out at Amber and Warthorn and Argulor. “That. It hurts.”
Brek just nodded. What must it be like, to be an empath? To feel what others were feeling, all at once, in a terrible, crashing wave? He shuddered. He was glad he was… well, whatever sort of Prophet he was. Germaine said that was up to him to discover, alongside Ignasa.
He looked up at Luna, asking, “Will you help me take her to the infirmary?”
“Of course. I came to do that.”
Brek stood, wrapping Rose’s arm over one shoulder. “Come on Rose… you need a long nap.”
“Ok!” Rose said quite cheerfully, even if her legs wouldn’t support her weight. 
After a moment, Luna shoved her head and neck under Rose’s other arm, and together, they helped her stagger from the main hall. 
“Maybe we’ll meet Bella along the way.” Brek said, hopefully.
Luna just grunted, having to keep her neck lowered. 
They did not meet Bella along the way. By the time they reached the infirmary door, Brek’s neck ached, and he couldn’t imagine what Luna must feel like.
He pushed open the door, to see Bella and Germiane talking urgently.
“I don’t know, I was in my laboratory… the last I checked, he was fast asleep, and it hadn’t been long.”
Bella groaned, rubbing the sides of her head. “Well he can’t have walked off Germaine, he’s an infant…”
She paused as Luna snorted, and turned to them. She hurried over and grabbed Rose, relieving the pressure on Brek’s neck. Rose slumped against Bella as she gave Germaine a pointed look. “You need to find him. Can he crawl yet?”
“Maybe a little…”
From her tone of voice, Brek knew Germaine was hardly convinced.
Bella sighed. “Well look around while I take this one to bed.”
“Not… sleepy…” Rose protested as Bella carried her off into one of the adjoining rooms.
Germaine turned to Brek and Luna, crossing her arms. “I know he’s not here. I looked!”
Brek glanced at Luna, then turned to face her completely. She held her head high, silver-white neck arched stiffly. Her every muscle looked like it was pulled taunt. Even the feathers among the hairs of her mane were bristling.
Brek carefully touched her shoulder. “Luna? Hey, are you ok?”
Luna tossed her head, before shaking herself. It took her a second, but she stammered, “N… no! Brek, come with me, we have to help!”
“Help who…” Brek began, but stopped in a squeak as he was tossed onto her back thanks to her telekinesis. 
Luna whirled around, loping out of the infirmary without another word.
Brek clung to her neck as she thundered down a staircase, withers jolting his perch with every crash of her hooves. “What are you doing!”
Luna spun around a corner, coming far too close to the wall for comfort. “There is evil at work… Brek, we must get to the kitchen exit, tell me where to turn!”
They were fast approaching a junction of hallways, and Brek yelled, “Left!”
He wanted to ask more, wanted more explanation, but Luna was a fellow Prophet. And Brek hadn’t had a good feeling about tonight from the beginning, though he’d blamed that on Redfarl’s comments about Sayna possibly marrying Torrin and Amber’s general awfulness.
Apparently he’d been wrong.
He tightened his legs around Luna’s sides as she jerked around another corner, glad of his riding lessons under Gingivere. He took one second to touch the hilt of his sword, something Bella had returned to him, and he closed his eyes.
These hallways were endless, and confusing. Brek had just yelled a random direction. If Luna didn’t know the way out, who knew how long it might take them?
Can I really do this?
Brek took as deep of a breath as he could, and imagined. 
Like the daydreams that had filled his kithood, he imagined the forest around Brockhall’s kitchen, shrouded in the darkness of night. It painted itself in his mind’s eyes, and he stretched farther, envisioning all that he could. He stood there, in his consciousness. A cool breeze on his face, Luna beneath him, the smell of wood and plants.
“Take me there… no, take us there.” Brek said, wishing he knew what Bella called the language of magic. 
I may not know the words. 
Brek could feel the magic granted to him all around, drawn from what felt like his very soul.
But Ignasa, you know my heart.
The world shifted. It broke, and then reassembled, like a knife blade slashed through a candle flame. Luna’s hooves came down on grass instead of floor stones, and Brek gasped in the cool night air, before yelling, “Tree!”
Luna ducked to the right, narrowly avoiding the trunk of a sizable tree directly in her path.
Brek barely had time to register where they were, the specifics were lost in a blur, and green light flashed through the treetops, answered by blue.
A Necromancer and Prophet fighting?
“Brek, you need to tell me where to go, there’s too much noise!” Luna yelled.
Brek didn’t even question it, since another tree was coming up fast. “Left!”
She swerved, narrowly missing ramming her head into the trunk. 
Brek couldn’t discern much in the darkened surroundings. “What’s going on?”
“Groddil’s in a fight with a Necromancer and…Ow!”
She burst into a clearing and without thinking, Brek pulled back on her mane. Luna slid to a stop, saying, “Don’t do that, it hurts!”
But Brek didn’t answer. 
Sayna stood frozen, her eyes glowing red even in the darkness. And behind her was a shadow, one Brek knew too well. One who’d impaled Sayna through the torso.
The black sword through her waist drained crimson to the ground, and Brek couldn’t speak, couldn’t move.
Fragorl withdrew her blade, and Sayna fell to the ground, red in her eyes dulling.
For another second, Brek could do nothing. And then he screamed, a sound of raw fury that surprised even him. How long had he lost Sayna? How long had he wished he could see her again? And they’d been reunited in ernest for what? Three weeks at best?
Brek turned on Fragorl, to find she stared at him and Luna, mouth agape. 
Then in a shower of blood, her sword transformed back to its normal form of a staff, and she bolted. After two or three bolting steps, Fragorl took to the sky in a flutter of her dark cloak.
“Luna!” Brek yelled. “Follow her!”
Luna stamped a hoof, whinnying back. “Listen, I’m blind. I can only guess that there’s a Necromancer close and they did something awful. Where do you want me to go?”
“U… up!” Brek stammered, watching Fragorl stop her accent. She hovered there, scanning the forest for something… probably Ferran.
“Alright, I can’t just take off like a bird. Do I have the room for a running start?” Luna sounded annoyed, and Brek felt bad. This was his sister’s guardian, and a fellow Prophet he barely knew, he should be more polite.
But a glance at Sayna’s motionless body banished those thoughts. Let him beg for forgiveness later, Fragorl would not get away with this too. 
He readied himself. “Yes!”
He hoped that was true. 
Luna snorted and dashed forward, and Brek couldn’t look at Sayna’s body as they rushed past. Not now. Not yet. He had to focus. He could let himself grieve later.
Fragorl was done causing pain. She was done wrecking havoc.
Blue light swirled around Luna’s wings, and she kicked off the ground in a spiral of magic, wings sending forest debris flying. Air rushed past Brek’s face, sweeping his hair back and making his eyes water. Fragorl saw them coming, and went even higher, bursting above the canopies of Mossflower.
As leaves rained down on them, Luna formed a dome of blue light around them, smashing through tree limbs in a crescendo of destruction. Brek drew his sword as the pegasus broke the surface of trees, and Brek yelled as he willed power to flow from him and down his blade in a spiral of blue light. Fragorl spun around, her staff transforming into a crossbow. A bolt shattered against Luna’s shield.
Ignasa… Brek silently prayed for his invisibility, for the power to be unseen.
He felt it work, felt the power leave him, and surround him and Luna both. Fragorl stopped firing magic bolts, staring at where Brek and Luna had been moments before, though they were circling around now, behind her.
“We have to stop her.” Brek leaned forward, whispering. “She’s a danger to us all.”
Luna’s voice sounded in his mind, though not in his ears. “I can sense her evil, Brek. But what would you have me do? And yes, you can think back to me now, I know you are wondering it.”
“Uh… yes.” Brek recovered himself quickly. “Can you hit her with anything?”
“I am not well versed in offensive magic. I am a healer, a counselor.”
Even as she said it, Brek felt her surge forward, and a flash of light flew toward Fragorl’s back, becoming visible as soon as it got a small distance from Luna. 
Fragorl dodged, just barely, ends of her cloak smoldering.
She spun, green light flowing around her as she commanded, “Taispeáin iad dom!”
Show them to me.
Brek stared, because he knew those words, he had read them. They were the old script. Was the old script the language of magic Bella had mentioned? She might have clarified that if it was.
He felt the cold of evil around him, and saw Luna’s glowing, dome-like shield as it raised to combat two rapidly fired crossbow bolts. Fragrol had disbanded his invisibility, clearly. She floated effortlessly, cloak swirling around her in the idea of wings, and Luna had to keep circling to stay airborne.
Is it so wrong? Brek thought. To hate her this much?
“Brek.” Said Luna in his mind. “If Ignasa thought that was wrong, would he lend you the magic to do this?”
Brek felt his eyes widen. 
But he couldn’t argue her point. “But how do we stop her?”
“That I cannot say. I have faced her before, and I could only reach a stalemate as now.” Luna said, sweeping her wings in a wide arch, air rushing past. 
Fragorl stopped firing bolts at them, a clearly fruitless exercise. She leapt higher into the air, holding her arms out, and Brek shivered at her words.
“Can, ó ghaoth.”
Sing, oh wind.
It swept around her, gathering like a violent summer storm. No lightning or thunder resided in it, just wind as sharp as blades. Her hood flew back, and there, in the starlight, Brek finally saw the face of the one who had taken his freedom, so long ago. The face of the one who had murdered his sister.
The face of a squirrel.
Brek met her gaze for the first time, a gaze as hard as stone, no repentance or sorrow in it, not even glee. Just a flat emptiness, made worse by the black tears running from her eyes.
Luna was thrust back in the air as Fragorl’s faintly glowing air smashed into them, and for a moment, they fell. Luna caught herself, swooping back toward Fragorl as she hit the pegasus with another blast of cutting wind.
It deflected off Luna’s shield, but Brek felt a little sick as they rapidly lost altitude.
“She’s going to crash me in the trees!” Luna yelled in his mind as she pumped her wings against the onslaught, but still lost ground. “If you plan to teleport us again, now would be a good time!” 
Teleport. That was a good idea. But Fragorl would still see them… then again, he could make them invisible. Could he do both at once?
The topmost branches of Mossflower were fast approaching, and Brek gulped in a breath, clenching his paws, one around his sword hilt. 
I am unseen. Unnoticed. Unimportant to the larger, older creatures around me.
Magic stretched over him. Every time he used it, he felt a little more tired, a little more sluggish. A little colder as what was quickly becoming a part of him left. And then Brek imagined with all the strength he had. 
He was above the leaves of Mossflower, they spread under him like a dark carpet, so deceptive in their claim of solidness. The ebony sky of stars was at his back, lighting the sword he now raised above his head. And just below him was Fragorl, storm of wind around her, cloak flowing in it with the illusion of wings.
If it is your will, Ignasa… let me be justice.
The world flickered. The world shifted. And it reformed.
Brek fell. 
Fragorl had just enough time to lift her head in confusion, she had to have felt the shift. But it did her no good as Brek’s sword impaled cleanly into her back and out of her chest.
They plumited toward the ground, branches tearing at Brek’s fur. He imagined the most vivid image of an earth-bound location in his mind at that moment… where Sayna’s corpse had been laying.
The world shifted again, and he was on his knees in blood slicked grass. With a crashing, snapping thud, Fragorl’s body hit the ground ten or so feet away. Brek stared at her, limbs twisted, eyes staring at nothing, his sword through her chest and stuck in the ground like a dart in a board.
“Brek, are you ok?”
Luna’s voice in his head was frantic. “What happened?”
“I…” Brek couldn’t look away from Fragorl as he whispered, “I killed her.”
“What?” Asked Luna, and Brek remembered their conversation was mental.
“I killed her.” He thought, no less stunned. At last he shakily thought, “Are you alright?”
“I managed to stabilize my flight in time, yes.” Luna said. “What about the high queen?”
What about Sayna? Brek looked around for her, but her body wasn’t there. Had he miscalculated? But that was what he’d imagined, so thanks to past experience, shouldn’t he be practically on top of her?
Then he noticed the halfblood, Torrin. He had Sayna in his arms and was staggering in the direction of Brockhall as fast as he could with a profusely bleeding leg. Brek froze. 
Why would Torrin bother with that unless Sayna was somehow still alive?
Brek didn’t wait to ask questions, he didn’t bother. He ran at the two, imagining as he did. The infirmary formed in his mind’s eye, the glowing blue pools and flickering light on the ceiling. The cots, the blue curtained doors, the bookshelves, and the worktables. 
He’d spent enough time there to know what it looked like.
He imagined all three, him, Sayna, and Torrin, were there. 
Torrin turned slightly just as Brek grabbed them both in the tightest hug he could and begged for Ignasa to lend him the power once more tonight.
Please, let me save her!
Again, Brek felt that shifting. It was growing familiar. It felt like blowing on a candle flame looked, though Brek imagined that only made sense to his odd mind. But in his head, he was the flame, they all were. Shifting, changing, and yet retaining their essence.
Reality knit together again with a cold wave of water.
Brek stumbled, letting go of Sayna and Torrin and falling face first into Germaine’s central pool of water and going under in a splash. He’d forgotten to specify where in the infirmary he’d wanted to go, so of course magic took him to the center of it… which happened to be a tiny indoor lake.
He surfaced, gasping and coughing, water flowing from his sodden hair in waterfalls around his face.
Torrin sat in the pool nearby, clutching Sayna tightly, and staring around in dumbfounded amazement. Sayna’s paw dragged the water limply, her head slumped against his shoulder.
Brek wiped his mouth with the back of his paw, asking, “Is she alive?”
Torrin glanced at Sayna, and nodded. “I think so.”
“What in Ignasa’s name is this?”
Germaine stood at the pool’s edge, growing horror in her eyes as she took in the scene. Brek staggered upright, before his legs buckled and he fell again. “Please.”
His voice was weak, and he felt cold, tired, and very empty. 
That… was the longest distance he’d teleported, wasn’t it? And he’d certainly never teleported so much in so short a time. And… had he ever even tried teleporting more creatures than himself? Somehow, Brek didn’t think he had. He dragged himself toward Germaine and the pool’s edge, pleading, “Save her! You have… to save her…”
He collapsed at her sensibly shod paws, top half on the edge of the pool, and bottom half still in it. The world wavered, and Brek closed his eyes as Germaine ran into the pool with a gasp, skirts sloshing through the water.
Germaine had saved him when he had Distemper, she’d saved Gingivere. She could save anyone.
And he was so terribly tired.
><><
Sayna first became aware of the fact that she lay on a solid surface. 
She blinked sluggish eyes open, to find there wasn’t much to see. Was she dead? This wasn’t exactly what she’d imagined the Lands Beyond looking like. They were said to be a paradise all of gold, but this place was… nothing, really.
It was a lot like her mind, when Bloodwrath dragged her into herself.
Worriedly, Sayna looked around for the curse.
But she didn’t see her anywhere. She didn’t even hear anything appropriately creepy, like disembodied laughter.
Slowly, carefully, Sayna sat up. She’d been impaled, right? That’s how she had gotten here, wasn’t it? But she wasn’t in pain, and when she looked down at her dress, it was whole.
Bella won’t be happy about me ruining her dress.
Sayna rolled her eyes at the thought as she carefully stood. If she was dead, that wouldn’t matter. They could bury her in it or something. 
Ugh. Sayna shivered. That was morbid.
She looked around, and still saw nothing but darkness. Just… darkness. Endless, broken only by the soft light radiating up from her own fur.
Her voice was tiny in the depth of that silence.
“Hello?”
She waited, but there was no answer. A coldness settled in her gut. This… couldn’t be all there was. There must be more. If this was all there was… why had she existed in the first place?
Or maybe nothing had ever changed inside of her. But then, this wasn’t how she’d pictured Hellgates either. 
“Er… Ignasa?”
Sayna heard her own voice echo back to her. She fiddled her paws nervously. “I don’t want to be alone for all eternity.”
“You are not alone, daughter.”
Sayna froze as light burst through the darkness behind her, spiraling around her. Pure white light so brilliant it let her cast no shadow. For a moment, she didn’t move, she couldn’t. Then slowly, she turned.
A cat hovered a few inches from the dark ground she stood on, a tawny cat with curling white hair that fell to his waist and sparkled with the constellations of the heavens. His white cloak rippled with light like that reflected from water, but it shone with pulsating colors, every color she had ever seen.
Sayna felt her knees buckle, and she fell to them, and then her elbows. 
She watched him set his filagree white boots on the dark ground several feet from her, and grass sprang up around him, spiraling out along the surface. Flowers bloomed around them, ferns uncurled, and snowy briars sprouted. 
Still, Sayna didn’t dare move.
A gentle paw touched the back of her head. “My daughter, you may rise.”
She took a deep breath, and looked up. “You’re Ignasa.”
She said it as fact, because her soul knew. He smiled. “I am.”
“I knew you existed.” Sayna felt her own smile, disfigured by scars as it might be. Then she cocked her head. “But you…”
She paused. Perhaps it was not respectful to tell the very reason the universe existed that he didn’t match the descriptions in books. But where were his wings of light, or his mane of flowing feathers? She’d never imagined him as a cat. Wasn’t he supposed to be part dragon too?
“I am many things, Sayna.” Ignasa said. “Confined to a mortal’s description is none of them.”
Sayna ducked her head. “Sorry.”
He laughed, a nice sound. “I am not angered by the fact you are interested in me, though my appearance is hardly what matters.”
A boulder materialized behind him, and he sat on it, cloak spilling over it like falling water. The clothes he wore beneath it matched the white theme of everything, but were surprisingly simple for a deity.
“At times I am surprisingly simple, my daughter.”
Sayna blinked. Of course he could read her mind. 
A smaller boulder appeared beside Ignasa’s as he said, “I know the thoughts of mortals. But it would be hard not to know who I am a part of. Come sit with me, for awhile.”
Sayna got to her paws, and slowly sat on her boulder. “You’re a part of me?”
“You asked me to be, remember?”
Sayna thought, then deduced, “When I told you I was sorry for… well, being evil.”
“When you asked me to forgive you.” Ignasa said. “A bond was forged between us, and what I bind may never break.”
There was silence as Sayna just considered that for awhile, and then said, “Oh.”
The world kept growing around them, trees sprouted, hills formed, and the once blackness filled with life. Sayna glanced up into the eyes of the one who had made all things, eyes as blue as the sunlit sea, yet alight with unstoppable fire. “So… I guess I go with you now? Because I’m dead?”
“That is not your desire, then?” Ignasa asked, though he didn’t seem angry. Just like he genuinely wanted to hear her answer, even if he must already know it.
“I… mean…”
Sayna took a deep breath, then buried her face in her paws. “I don’t know. It would probably be easier to go with you… for so long I did want to stop existing.”
A paw slipped beneath her chin, forcing her to meet the simultaneously kindest and most terrifying eyes she had ever seen. “If you were to come with me, my kit, you would hardly stop existing.”
“I… I know, it’s just… everything we have to do, and all the choices I’d have to make… and yet..” Sayna trailed off as Ignasa’s paw fell away, and she looked down again. She could only meet that gaze for so long. 
“And yet?” Ignasa pressed, gently.
Sayna folded her paws in her lap. “And yet that can’t be everything I was supposed to do, right? I was a mark… I was supposed to save Mossflower, to stop the Greeneyes.”
She made herself look up again. “Wasn’t I? I was the one you chose.”
“You are the one I have called to this end, Sayna.” Ignasa said. “For all the evil my enemies pour upon those who follow me, and even some who don’t, you are one of those I called to stop it.”
He shook his head, “But I do not choose, not how you think of it. I offer you this responsibility. You have accepted it, but you did not have to.”
Sayna gaped up at him. “But… but without me, everyone would die, right?”
“All die at least once, my daughter.”
Sayna paused at that, asking softly, “Even… you?”
“Even me.” He said, and he smiled sadly. “I have done it already. Which is why I came to sit with you. That emptiness, the cruelty of the curse tied to your soul… I did not want you to face it alone.”
His smile grew reassuring as he said, “It cannot come near me.”
Sayna just nodded. Then she asked, “So… we’re in my head? Like her?”
“We are in your soul.” Ignasa said. “Not your mind. I am certain it told you that this is your mind, but it lies just as the one who first spoke it.”
Sayna just blinked, and then looked around. This… was her soul?
“For obvious reasons, your body isn’t functioning well at this time. But you remain, this is the core of who Sayna is.” Ingasa held out a paw, gesturing to the landscape. 
The beautiful, life-filled landscape of greens and blues, hills, flowers, rocks, and trees.
“This…” Sayna managed to whisper. “Is me?”
Ignasa smiled down at her as he laid his paw on her shoulder. “This is us.”
Sayna just blinked for awhile, and then looked back at the scenery, growing ever more detailed. “It’s… beautiful.”
“It is.” Said Ignasa, gazing up at the sky as a sun rose behind coral clouds.
“Even…” Sayna looked down at the grass, sparkling with starlight. “Even when Bloodwrath’s here?”
“All that is beautiful is challenged by cruelty.”
Sayna stared at Ignasa as he spoke. “And all that is beautiful must be protected from it.”
She felt herself slowly nod. “And the only way to protect anything is to fight for it.”
She felt a hope she had never known to exist, a hope that someone might actually be able to stop Bloodwrath once and for all. “Can you show me how to defeat her?”
Ignasa held out a paw, and white briars sprang up, twisting around themselves as they formed a frame of thorns. A door appeared there, white and covered in motifs of leaves. He looked back to her, saying, “My daughter, you have a choice. So long as you live, the curse is bound to you. If you die, it is gone.”
He laid a paw on the nearly crystalline door. “I can teach you to bind her, should you choose to go back.”
Sayna took a single, shocked step backwards. “I… get to choose whether I live or die? But isn’t that something you choose?”
“I allow things to follow their natural paths, roads driven by choices, at least for this age.” Ignasa let out a sigh. “And your choices have led you here.”
“I… I…” Sayna stared at the door, then at Ignasa, then back at the door. “How… can I choose something like that? What if I choose what I wasn’t supposed to, what if I fail you… and everyone… what if…”
She trailed off. “I’m… dead, aren’t I?”
“You are a rare case of being between death and life.” Said Ignasa, and she couldn’t quite discern his tone of voice. “And that is why I leave this decision to you. Few ever find themselves in the position you have.”
“What… did I do wrong? It was because I didn’t follow you sooner, wasn’t it… I’m such an idiot… how could I fail so badly I even fail at dying?”
She gripped the sides of her head, gasping, “What sort of creature fails at dying?”
Paws wrapped around her, and Sayna jerked her head up, blinking. Ignasa, Lord of all things, was hugging her. He held her a moment, kneeling in front of her. He was only slightly taller than her, like that.
“Sayna. What has been done cannot be changed, like words spoken cannot be unsaid.”
She leaned into him, burying her face in his hair. “But I’m a danger to everyone! I should be dead, shouldn’t I, then Bloodwrath would be gone… so why do I want to live so badly? Why am I so selfish?”
“Little kit.” Ignasa hugged her close, like her mother had once done. “You are so much more than Bloodwrath.”
“Can I stop her?” Sayna whispered. “Am I strong enough?”
Ignasa set her down and met her gaze. “We are strong enough. Do you believe that?”
“I…” She rubbed a paw across her nose. “Yes. I do not trust my own strength, it has failed me before. But I trust you.”
Sayna looked up into his eyes. “Do you want me to save Mossflower? Even after all I’ve done? Couldn’t you find a better creature?”
“I could find another creature.” Ignasa said. “But whether or not they would be better is all a matter of perspective. For to fail is to be mortal, and to persevere is to live. You are not such a failure as you think.”
Sayna felt the tears coming, then. She cried unashamedly before Ignasa, and the lord of all things simply knelt with her, and let her.
“I finally found a place I might have called home.” Her voice was a mess, all sobby and distorted, but she spoke anyway, she made herself. “I had started to care about them… creatures I didn’t even know, I’d started to care about them. I didn’t know I could do that.”
Her knees gave out and she fell to them. “I used to tell myself if I died no one would care.”
She could only think of the pain in Torrin’s voice, the last thing she remembered. And Rose, how tightly they’d hugged when she’d been found. And how Tynek had started coming to her for advice… he trusted her. He’d said as much. Dancer excitedly telling her about romantic outings with Wildfire, Groddil giving her awkward relationship advice.
She hugged herself, biting her lip until it hurt. Because they cared. They all cared.
She looked up at Ignasa, even if he was blurry. “And you care too.”
“I always have.” Ignasa said, kneeling by a lone door in a soul he called beautiful. And he smiled. “And I always will.”
“You gave me a great honor.” Sayna said, slow realizations forming in her mind. “I threw it away, didn’t I?”
Ignasa heaved a sigh as deep as the creaking of ancient forests, and brushed a few tears from her right cheek. “Little kit, how I wish you had not followed the paths that led you here. Either way you turn, there will be both joy and loss. But I have forgiven you, for things you have done and things you will do. Do not make this choice on duty alone.”
“Terrible things.” Sayna whispered. “Wonderful things.”
Sandingomm’s words echoed in her mind, and Ignasa finished them. “Things she could not pretend to understand.”
“But I think I do, now.” Sayna said softly, as she looked at the door, crystalline surface covered in swirling thorn motifs. “This fate is already written.”
“Fate is a word mortals give to the roads they choose for themselves.” Said Ignasa, standing, and gently pulling her upright.
Sayna nodded. “But you know my heart.”
He smiled with a gentleness Sayna did not know any could possess. “And I know you long to walk life’s paths again. To see where they will lead. Remember that I walk beside you.”
She rubbed away tears, blurting, “Torrin. Is he the one I’m supposed to be with? It feels so… perfect, but it can’t be, can it? It… can’t be real.”
Despite the swirl of emotions in her head, Sayna wanted to kick herself. Here she was, talking to the one creature who knew everything, and she was asking for relationship advice? 
“No question is too small for me.” He said. “And who you spend your life with is not a small thing. For what I bind is by design, not meant to break.”
He smiled. “He is a good son, a strong one. But tell me, do you now want the thing you ran from so determinedly?”
“I want many things I ran from.” Sayna laughed, a wry sound, an ironic one.
She looked up into Ignasa’s eyes. “What’s wrong with me?”
The fondness in his smile was impossible. Urran had never looked at her with that much understanding love, and indeed, she doubted any could. “Nothing, my daughter. You are becoming. As mortals would say, you are growing up.”
“Becoming.” Sayna said. 
“All your life you will be.” He said. “Even after the day I finally bring you home.”
Sayna took a shuddering breath, and looked at the door. “I only wish I didn’t have to be separated from you.”
He shook his head. “We will never be.”
“It is so much harder to hear you there.” She said it softly. “So much harder to know.”
“In the silence, you will hear me. If you let me speak, I will. All those who seek me will find me, though I rarely am how they defined me.”
Sayna took a deep breath, and nodded. “So you will bind Bloodwrath, then?”
He shook his head. “We will bind her. To conquer what you most fear, you must first face it.”
Sayna nodded again, firmer this time. She swallowed hard. “Then I will go back.”
A rattle of metal rang out, and Ignasa pulled a set of two keys from beneath his cloak. They were large, as large as his forearm, and made of tarnished gold. He inserted it into the white door’s lock, and turned it.
The clank was soft, and Ignasa gently pushed it open, revealing blackness beyond, sprinkled with glints of light.
Sayna prepared herself to walk through, but to her shock, Ignasa held out his paw. “Come, great defender.”
“You’re… coming with me?” Sayna asked, setting her tiny paw in his.
He tucked the keys away. “Of course. I do not force you to walk this road alone, I forbid that should ever be.”
She took one final moment, and then tightened her grip on his paw. “I’m ready.”
And together, they walked through the door.
== Act 5 Conquest==
:3
== Chapter 50 The Key of Death ==
Sayna first felt the cold. Deep, permeating cold through her entire being. Not a burning cold, but a hollow cold, like the final moments of consciousness before exhausted collapse. 
Once, in the days after she had been told of Rose’s death, she had lain out in the snow, trying to remember how she and her sister had played together. But without Rose, she’d just stayed imobile for hours, losing herself in the swirling storm of ice. She’d almost let herself go to sleep in it.
This felt similar to that, an encroaching numbness.
But this was so much worse.
Back then, the world had been cold while her core thrummed with warmth that did not want to die. Now, the world was warm, but she was cold deep inside, down to her bones. She could feel the blessed heat around her, but none of it was hers.
She could hear the low murmur of voices, quiet and hard to make out, though she caught bits and pieces, and she knew the one was Germaine’s.
“Now, your ankle is a real mess. You’re going to need to take it easy for the next while.”
There wasn’t an answer so far as Sayna could tell.
Germaine tsked her tongue. “I should have saved a bit for you, I’m sorry.”
“I don’t care.” 
Torrin answered, and Sayna truly believe it. His voice was the flattest she’d ever heard it, like he would never care about anything again.
Sayna drew in a shaky breath, realizing she hadn’t done that in awhile. In fact, the last time she could remember breathing, every movement had been wracked with horrible pain. Now, she felt none.
It took a moment, but as she exhaled, she came to understand that neither Torrin or Germaine spoke anything more. In fact, the infirmary was as still as a tomb.
She still was so terribly cold. 
Hadn’t Torrin been holding her before she lost consciousness? It’d be nice if he’d do that again.
There was a sudden scuffle, and a cry of protest from Germaine. “Your leg!”
“Sayna?” Torrin’s voice shook ever so slightly, and he must have caused the scuffle, because he sounded far closer.
She tried to speak, tried to smile, tried to open her eyes, but failed at all of them. All she could do was take one frosty breath after another. A paw picked up her right one, clasping it between warmth. 
Measured yet hurried pawsteps rang out, and sure paws touched her forehead, and checked her pulse. The silence stretched a little longer, before Germaine spoke, sounding ligitamatly baffled. “She’s… alive again.”
And freezing!
Sayna yelled, mentally.
She could imagine Torrin was looking at Germaine as he asked, “What do we do?”
“We get her warm.” Germaine said briskly. “She’s as cold as death, I’ll get some blankets and start a fire…”
Arms wrapped around her, and Sayna shivered as Torrin hugged her close. That was nice, he was warm, unlike her. Germaine must be nodding in her matter of fact way. “Yes, you do that. Just sit still, would you? An arrow to the leg is hard enough to heal, don’t make it worse.”
He’d been shot in the leg? Right. Fragorl. That’s what had happened when Sayna had shoved her crossbow down. She hadn’t spared Torrin completely, but at least it wasn’t his back.
He was stroking her face now, right where the burns should be. But she felt his paws touch fur, not bare skin like the injuries had left. “Sayna… can you hear me?”
Sayna mentally rolled her eyes. I clearly can’t answer either way.
But he sounded like he was hoping beyond hope that she could. Sayna took a deeper breath then she had been, and hoped he understood.
Torrin seemed to, because he pulled her closer.
Germaine returned shortly, and wrapped her in blankets. Time passed as Sayna just focused on breathing, in and out, again and again. She heard the click of flint and steel, and then the crackle of flames in a fireplace.
“I’ll make some tea.” Germaine said, as she walked away.
Tea. Tea would be very nice. 
Sayna drew upon all the strength she had, and forced her eyes open. It was less difficult than she’d been expecting. 
She found herself staring into Torrin’s eyes, slightly reddened ones. Had he been… crying? He cared that much? The left side of his face was a mass of bandages, where Roderick had dared to cut him.
“Sayna?” He asked, sounding a little nervous. “Is that… really you?”
Sayna blinked. How could she convince him she was herself, not some imposter possessing her body from beyond the grave? Then it hit her, and she did her best to smile. Her voice was weaker than she’d ever heard it.
“Tá mé ar ais.”
Torrin stared at her a moment longer, before a grin spread across his face, much like it normally did. 
And he kissed her.
If she could have fallen over, Sayna knew she would have.
Torrin quickly pulled back, as though realizing what he’d done. “Uh. I mean… I… didn’t…”
Sayna blinked as he said, “I’ll put you down now.”
She shook her head, managing to protest, “No, you’re warm.”
It was very hard to talk. Was this what Tynek felt like constantly? Hard to speak, hard to think… just… hard. 
“I didn’t hate it.”
Lands Beyond, she was turning into Tynek. That was even a Tynek thing to say!
Where was Tynek anyway? Probably still passed out under the royal feasting table. Someone should get him and take him to bed, sleeping on the floor in an empty feasting hall was not dignified.
“Oh… well… good?” Torrin said awkwardly, bringing her back to the present.
She still couldn’t move her arms, and her mind was still distracted and sluggish… more so than usual.
So she said, “I told you I liked you.”
“Well yes… but I… got carried away. But you’re alive again… how are you alive again?” Torrin asked, normal enthusiasm beginning to seep into his tone. That was good.
Sayna wished she could shrug. But she really couldn’t. She could feel a little warmth returning to her, however, so she must be improving. 
“Ignasa.” She said. “He let me choose. I chose to come back.”
“Germaine used an entire Borialis on you, Sayna.” Torrin said. “You were still dead for… a very long time.”
“Thirty minutes isn’t that long.” Germaine interrupted, clinking of porcelain accompanying her steps, and Sayna watched her set a tea tray on a nearby table. “Though it is a long time to be dead.”
But that wasn’t the part of the conversation Sayna focused in on. She’d known she was dead… or, at least close enough Ignasa had to give her clearance to come back to life.
“Borialis? A Taevarian ice flower?”
As time passed, she gained more diction; her tongue more dexterity. 
Germaine poured some tea and helped her drink it. “Indeed, my young queen. It was our only hope of saving you, something I assure you, Bella was desperate to do.”
The healer paused, and glanced around the otherwise empty room. “Someone should probably tell her of your recovery, lest she cry herself to sleep. Hmm. Then again, sleep would be good for her. But I suppose I’ll send Urran, where is that mouse?”
She trotted over to a curtained door a little ways down the room, and stuck her head inside. “Urran? Ah, there you are. Listen, I know your upset, but I need you to tell Bella that her majesty the queen is alive again.”
A few seconds passed, before Urran came rushing out of the room and past Germaine. He stared at Sayna and Torrin, wonder and terror in his eyes.
Sayna weakly smiled at him. “Hey dad.”
“Sall… Sayna… you…” He walked closer and held out a paw, daring to just brush it against her blankets.
“I’m back.” Sayna said, snuggling against Torrin, which was surprisingly comfortable. She wasn’t half so cold as before.
Germaine tapped Urran on the shoulder. “I promise you can talk all about it later, and I’ll give you as much time as you want. But do tell Bella. She should be praying in her chambers about now, and she must be given the news.”
Urran dumbly nodded, before hurrying off. 
Germaine looked to Sayna, then Torrin, and then crossed her arms. “I know you two are in love and all now, but you should both sleep. It’s nighttime anyway, and you can talk all about this in the morning.”
She turned sharp eyes to Sayna. “You are growing warmer, yes?”
Sayna nodded. 
“Very well.” Said Germaine. “Come, Torrin. You are just as tired as she, if not more so. I have a place you can sleep for the night.”
Sayna didn’t argue, because he did look tired, exhausted, in fact. He sat her down gently, and then smiled a weary smile. “I’m glad you aren’t dead.”
She smiled back. “I’m glad you aren’t either.”
Sayna lay still as Germaine got Torrin settled, and just listened to the sounds of life around her. They began melding together, and she couldn’t remember Germaine coming back. She must have though, because when Sayna next woke, she was tucked neatly in her bed with a pillow under her. She wasn’t the slightest bit cold.
Sayna gazed up at the ceiling, and realized that nothing really felt… real. Surely she’d dreamed it all; the dying, the coming back to life, Torrin actually kissing her… yes, that part especially must be made up.
She did feel exceedingly well-rested, though. Like every part of her was lighter. Like she could fly.
For a few moments, she was content to simply gaze around, and take in familiar surroundings. Perhaps they were the same as they’d always been, but they felt new, like everything she saw sat in a new light.
Torrin lay in one of the cot-like beds in this main room, beside the large pool. He’d pulled his blankets to his chin, and one of his paws dangled off the side of his bed as he slept. 
Sayna saw no one else, not even Germaine. She hoped the dutiful infirmary keeper was sleeping herself.
She yawned, stretched, and carefully sat up. The weight attached to her head instantly tugged against that movement.
Sayna froze, gaping as long, radiant strands of gold spilled over her shoulders like waterfalls of molten metal. She patted her head frantically, gasping at what her clawtips found.
Hair. And so much of it.
She looked this way and that, searching for a mirror, but seeing none. Then her gaze fixed on the pool. Disregarding caution and thoughts, Sayna threw off her covers and darted from her bed.
And she saw the hair trailing behind her.
It dragged the ground in a mobile golden sheet. As if she could escape her new hairdo, Sayna dashed to the edge of the pool and knelt beside it. 
A blemishless her stared back, though she gaped with the same confused wonder. 
Sayna touched her burned cheek, and she found fur. She traced where the scars in her lips should be, but found them whole. She looked down at her side, where she’d been impaled. Where she’d pressed fire against her own flesh in an attempt to keep herself from bleeding to death.
The dress Bella had loaned her was a sorry sight, fabric burnt black where it wasn’t stained a dark brown from blood.
But through the shreds in the bodice, Sayna could see her torso. Perfectly whole, the skin knit back together and the fur thick and healthy, like nothing had even happened. 
She took a shaking breath, and looked to her still gloved right paw.
Her feather mark was torn in half, slashed from when she’d seized the blade of her own sword in blind terror. It should be like that, mangled and broken, distorted thanks to her. Sayna ripped the glove off, and blankly stared at a paw as perfect as the day she was born, mark intact.
What was going on?
“Hey, are you alright?”
Torrin’s sleepy voice came from behind her; all her scrambling must have woken him up. She slowly turned to look at him, then said in a squeaky voice, “No.”
He sat up, asking, “Are you sick? Do you feel bad?”
“No…” Sayna grabbed fistfuls of hair longer then she’d even known could exist. “My hair!”
From the look on his face, he must be thinking she was dying again. Sayna realized she was probably overreacting.
“Er… look. I feel fine.” She assured. “I’m not dying again.”
Torrin relaxed as Sayna held up her hair for emphasis. “But this just has to go. It’s ridiculous, and how will I fight?”
Torrin held up a cautionary paw. “I don’t think that’s such a good idea. You didn’t see how you got that last night.”
Sayna just blinked. And then she hesitated. “How… did I come to have all this hair?”
He said nothing for a moment, then slid his legs out of bed and sat on the edge of it. “Sayna, it was… the most awe-inspiring and horrifying thing I have ever witnessed. I swear on Ignasa, there’s something magical about that hair.”
“It doesn’t feel magical.” Sayna said. “It feels heavy.”
She still knelt at the pool’s edge, and she glanced at her face, so oddly perfect. It was more than just the lack of scars. There was something about that face, something she couldn’t quite name. 
Radiant. 
The word came to mind, and Sayna couldn’t disagree. Her eyes, they were darker than night as always, but they gleamed. Not a single tuft of her fur rubbed the wrong way. That was her face, yes. And in the pool, she could see her body hadn’t changed either. It was little things that had shifted, but together they made a picture that was Sayna, just perfected.
And actually pretty.
She touched the water, before glancing at Torrin. “I’m… not sure I even feel like myself anymore.”
She looked down at her paw. “My scars told a story, and it’s like they never even happened. Like… I never happened. I know I should be pleased but…”
“A warrior’s scars are their pride.” Torrin said simply.
And Sayna smiled, because he understood. She could never tell anyone else something like that. Rose would tell her how much nicer she looked now, Tynek had never found any identity in the scars he bore. Or maybe he did, and that was why he hated them.
She stood, hair cascading around her like her torn skirt did around her legs. “I’ll get over it. And besides, I’m sure I’ll earn more.”
Torrin didn’t look completely sure about that idea, and Sayna touched her side. “Don’t worry. I’m not going to try something like being impaled again. It was terribly uncomfortable.”
“I hope not.” He said. “That was traumatic. For everyone.”
Sayna walked to the bed nearest his, and sat on it with a little hop, scowling as her hair tangled around her. “Ugh. This has got to be dealt with. So, a Teavarian Ice Flower, huh?”
Torrin nodded. “Aye, Germaine got you to take a whole one.”
“What are they like?” Sayna leaned forward. Records on Taevar were few and scattered.
“Like ice crystals… like frost, if instead of growing on glass, it grew from the ground like a plant. Germaine even had to break open all the petals, like they were… vials, almost. And just being around the thing made the air drop in temperature.” 
Sayna nodded. “I wish I could have seen that.”
Torrin shrugged. “It glowed, and once she fed the water to you, all your wounds sewed themselves up, and all your scars vanished. And your hair grew in seconds. It was… pretty crazy.”
Again, Sayna found herself regretting that she’d missed something like that.
At that moment, a scuffle sounded from behind them, and Sayna turned to see Rose, leaning on a curtained doorway. She still wore the violet ball gown from the night before, though it was badly in need of ironing. She yawned, rubbing at her eyes.
“Hey Rose.” Sayna said. “How are you feeling?”
She was almost certain her sister had been drunk last night.
“Terrible.” Rose mumbled.
Sayna found that almost amusing, seeing as she was the one who’d died last night, and she felt wonderful.
Rose rubbed her head. “I… need some of your tea, Sayna.”
“Of course.” Sayna hopped off the edge of the bed she sat on, and groaned as her hair trailed after her like a ball and chain. Magic or not, pretty or not, it had done its job, and now it needed to go.
“Sayna…” Rose stared dumbly at her. “Your hair!”
“Oh. Yeah. This.” Sayna flipped a large chunk over one shoulder, hoping in vain it would remain there. “This is… new.”
Rose leaned more heavily on the doorframe, muttering, “I’m still drunk.”
Sayna walked to her sister, and patted her shoulder. “No, this is real.”
It was real. It was honest to goodness reality, and that might be scarier than anything else. Rose stared at Sayna’s dress. “Sayna… tell me that isn’t blood!”
Sayna sighed. “It’s blood. I don’t think we can wash it out, with how much….”
Rose grabbed her arms, shaking her a bit. “Who did you kill?”
“Roderick.” Said Sayna. Her mind was shockingly calm about all this. “But that’s not his blood, it’s mine.”
“Yours?” Rose squeaked. “No one can lose that much blood without dying!”
Sayna shrugged. “I am dead.”
She paused, adding, “Kind of.”
“You… I… when…” 
For once, Sayna found herself in the odd position of not having to stammer for words. She understood so much. And she remembered so much.
Days in Evenglade, sneaking out of her window to play after her bedtime. Fighting pointless battles of wit with Roderick… she could crush him now, worm that he was. Giggling as her mother gave her a bath when she was too young to do it herself. Even when she crawled onto her mother’s bed, and Aryah showed her a tiny Rose, wrapped up in blankets.
“Your baby sister.” Her mother had smiled so happily then. “Our little Rose.”
Sayna gasped, and clapped a paw to her head.
She stared at Rose. “I remember when you were born!”
Rose just looked confused. “What?”
“You’re a year younger than me!” Sayna began pacing. She had too much energy for a creature who had just died. “And I remember when mother first showed you to me. That means I’m remembering something from when I was a year old!”
She stopped in her tracks, and covered her mouth with a paw. “Rose… I remember mother. I remember what she looked like. I… remember… everything.”
Her paw fell to her side, limply. Because she did. She felt the tears in her eyes as she came to understand how much memory she’d really lost over the years. Nights stargazing with her father, Brek’s first steps, the first time she’d cut herself on a kitchen knife, and everything in between.
Rose just stared up at her in total confusion.
Sayna could remember feeling like that. 
She looked to Torrin, who was staring at her with as much amazement as Rose. “I remember you too. I don’t know where from, but I do… I know I do. Your eyes are unmistakable; I’ve seen them before.”
She started pacing again. She had to move. Her hair threatened to trip her, so she gathered it up like an unruly skirt and kept going. 
After a moment of stunned silence, Torrin said, “This has got to do with the Borialis. I don’t know where you would have seen me… unless…” 
He trailed off.
“Sayna…” Rose asked hesitantly. “Are you hyper?”
“I… I think I am!” Sayna could barely believe it. “I feel like I could run forever.”
And she did. She longed to move, to be, to see the entirety of the world Ignasa had granted her the mercy to return to.
She looked to Torrin, asking, “Do you want to duel?”
He grinned. “Yes!”
Then he tried to stand, and fell back with a groan, grabbing his leg. “I mean… no. I do, but I can’t stand.”
Oh. That was right, everyone was injured or nursing headaches.
And here I want to face the Greeneyes all on my own. I want to do things.
She wanted to do things. Her. And did she actually want to sit through a war council right now? But they needed a solid outlined plan of attack and defence. 
A curtain rustled from nearby and Groddil walked out, holding Asher.
Asher, who was sleeping, and was there.
Sayna stared, and then asked, “We saved him?”
Groddil said nothing. He just clutched Asher to his chest, and gaped. Sayna sighed. “Yes, I know. I’m back.”
She was beginning to grow weary of everyone reacting so drastically, though she supposed it couldn’t be helped. 
Groddil stayed like that a moment longer, before gently setting Asher on a bed, his crop of fiery hair peeping from beneath his blankets. Groddil walked hesitantly toward her, like he wasn’t sure she was real. 
“I’m alive.” She reassured.
Groddil paused only a moment longer, before wrapping her in a hug and pulling her off the ground. “Lass… oh lass.”
He sounded like he was crying. “I thought I had lost you.”
Sayna paused, before wrapping her arms around Groddil’s neck, and they stayed like that for awhile. At last Groddil whispered, “Ignasa sent you back to me.”
“Literally.” Sayna said, as Groddil set her down again. 
He cocked his head, and Sayna opened her mouth to explain, but the sound of a curtain being drawn made her look past him. 
Tynek stood in a doorway of a room, and he just stared at her, specifically, her hair.
Then he rubbed his head, shook it, and winced. Sayna felt bad for him, he must have a splitting headache, after how much he drank. And how quickly he’d drunk it.
Rose walked over to him, and took his arm. He stared at her. “What… happened?”
You proposed. Sayna couldn’t help thinking it.
Rose smiled faintly. “Ty, I think we drank too much. And… Sayna got in a fight, but that’s pretty normal. I want the specifics, but I think we should go down to the kitchen and have some warm tea and breakfast. It should help with the headaches.”
Tynek nodded, and winced again. “I am not drinking that… poison. Ever again.”
Rose sighed, and rubbed his arm. “I… think that might be a good idea. Come on.”
He followed without argument, and Sayna watched them go. Once they were gone and silence once again filled the infirmary, Sayna looked at Groddil and Torrin. “So… who else knows I died, besides the two of you and Germaine?”
“Urran… Germaine’s daughter, Ayml, I think? And Brek… no, he passed out.” Torrin said. “He was the one who brought us here.”
“Is he alright?” Sayna asked, hurriedly. Brek seemed to be passing out a lot these days.
Groddil was the one to answer. “He’s sleeping. He needs to stop pushing himself past his limits as a Prophet. I may need to take him on as an apprentice, if no one else will.”
He paused. “Not that I’d mind training the lad, I just have a nephew and you to watch over, and it’s a full-time job.”
Sayna just nodded; she could see how that would be the case. 
Torrin spoke up. “Oh, and Gingivere and Sandingomm walked in right in the middle of the whole thing… you know, when you died. I think they were both upset, though Gingivere looked horrified.”
Sayna sighed. “Anyone else?”
“I mean… Germaine and Bella.” Torrin said. “But that’s all.”
“Well, that makes about six creatures I have to explain this to.” Sayna looked down at the hair spilling around her bare paws. “But I need a haircut first.”
“Lass, no.” Said Groddil, in the voice he used when he meant it.
Sayna held up a clump of hair. “I cannot honestly live like this.”
“But…” 
“You shouldn’t tempt fate.” Groddil crossed his arms.
Sayna sighed. He was probably right. But still! She dropped the clump of hair, saying, “Fine, I’ll cut a few strands. We’ll see what happens.”
Neither Groddil or Torrin looked convinced.
“We can’t live in fear of the unknown forever.” Sayna crossed her arms, standing her ground. “Groddil, do you know something bad will happen? You’re the magician.”
“I don’t know anything about Teavarian ice flowers.” Groddil protested.
“Well, I don’t either.” Sayna said. “But I plan to find out.”
Torrin held up a paw. “Maybe we should ask Germaine first?”
Sayna sighed, but she relented to that. “Fine. Where is she?”
Groddil didn’t exactly respond, he walked to a door on the opposite side of the room, and pulled it open, “Germaine? Can you come up here a second?”
A momentary scuffle came from the dark doorway, then the taps of paws on stairs. Germaine appeared from the gloom, rubbing her paws on her apron. “Yes?”
Groddil opened his mouth to say something, but Sayna spoke first. “They think I have to keep all this hair.”
Germaine cocked her head as Sayna asked, “What do you think?”
“Well…” Germaine said after a pause. “I don’t really know. I suspect the hair is a result of me giving you too high a dosage of the flower, but to be fair, all I know of them is old wive’s tales. And as I’ve never been an old wife, I know precious few of those.”
“So I can cut it?” Sayna could hear the relief in her tone.
Germaine shook her head. “Now, let’s not be hasty…”
“Can I cut a single strand?” Sayna begged. “And if it does nothing, then we can put this whole matter to rest. A single strand can’t possibly kill me, look at how much hair I have!”
“Well…” Germaine started to get a thoughtful look in her eyes.
“You can’t be serious!” Groddil protested. “Germaine!”
Germaine held up a paw. “I’m thinking. She has a point. This is good field research.”
Sayna grinned. Groddil buried his face in his paws with a groan. Torrin looked very concerned. Germaine sighed. “Come now, it’s only a strand. And no matter what we’ll learn something.”
“But what if one strand is enough to kill her?” Groddil was not backing down easily.
Germaine rolled her eyes. “Goodness, if she’s that fragile, I suppose she won’t be living long anyway.”
Groddil and Torrin blinked. Sayna did too. She felt somewhat less sure of herself after that.
Germaine selected a small knife from a nearby table, and then picked out a single strand of Sayna’s golden hair. “Alright, how long do you want it?”
“Um…” Sayna swallowed nervously now. “The bottom of my chin?”
“Oh, relax.” Said Germaine. “From all I’ve heard of Borialis, they’re far hardier than any of you are giving them credit for.”
There was a snick, below her ear. 
Sayna felt her legs give out as blackness clouded her vision. She hit the ground with a smack, though oddly, it didn’t hurt.
When she blinked her eyes open, Groddil was yelling at Germaine, and Torrin knelt on the floor beside her. Sayna coughed once, and then sat up with surprising ease. “What… happened?”
“You collapsed, and we are not doing that again.” Torrin said it sternly, though Sayna could hear the relief behind his tone.
Groddil and Germaine rushed over, and Sayna saw the glint of gold in Germaine’s paw. “What’s that?”
Germaine held up a long strand of hair, like golden thread.
Then she reached out, and plucked a strand of hair from among the many in Sayna’s head, holding it out for her inspection. It glimmered a pure silver, all its color drained away. 
“Through process of elimination, I think we’ve discovered that haircuts are hazardous to your health.”
“Oh, you don’t say?” Groddil asked angrily.
Germaine sighed as she straightened up. “Calm yourself, sir Prophet. She is alive, and she didn’t even die. And this way, the dangers of cutting her hair have been proven, so she won’t try it on her own and do worse damage.”
Sayna stared at the silver strand of hair laying across her palm. “So I’m doomed to have this hair forever?”
“Oh, there are worse things.” Germaine assured. “I suppose you’ll have to braid it.”
“I never learned to braid hair, I cut it all off!” Sayna protested.
Torrin shrugged. “I… kind of know a bit.”
He pointed to the tiny braid that always draped over his left shoulder, a chunk of hair left over from the times careless slavers had chopped it off at all different lengths.
There was a creak of a door, accompanied by voices. A moment later, Ayml and Redfarl stepped into the room. Redfarl’s mouth dropped open when she saw Sayna and she grabbed her smaller friend's arm. “Ayml, you said she died!”
Great. Now there was gossip about it.
Ayml just stared.
Germaine gave her daughter a look. “Ayml, what have I told you about giving out facts without solid research?”
“But she… but I… but I saw…” Ayml stammered.
Germaine interrupted. “Eyes may deceive, love.”
Ayml fell silent at that. Germaine smiled at her. “You braid your hair, don’t you? Would you mind helping Sayna with hers… and do be careful with it.”
At this, Redfarl raised a paw. “Oh, I can help… I can get Birch! He was showing me squirrel braiding styles. They’re nice cause they keep your hair up so it won’t get caught in the trees.”
Sayna got back to her paws. Her energy was returning. “That sounds like exactly what I want.”
Redfarl dashed off, and Sayna sat on a bed, letting Ayml pull her sheets of hair behind her. She got a comb, and as the little mouse girl brushed out Sayna’s hair, she watched Germaine walk over to Torrin. “You really won’t stay in bed, will you?”
She helped pull him upright, and made him sit on a nearby cot. 
“Maybe you won’t have to.”
Torrin looked confused. “But my leg?”
“I’m going to try something crazy, since we cut a piece of Sayna’s hair anyway.”
“It was crazy.” Groddil grumbled quietly. Sayna glanced to him, noting he held Asher again.
Germaine knelt at Torrin’s paws, and began unwrapping the bandages around his ankle. She just flicked an ear in Groddil’s direction. Sayna leaned forward, feeling Amyl pulling gently on her hair. As Torrin’s bandage fell away, Sayna bit her lip. She could see the hole in his leg, fur around it matted and ragged. 
“Perhaps,” Said Germiane, “You will not need to limp forever. You don’t mind being my test subject, do you?”
Torrin raised an eyebrow, but shrugged.
“Perfect.” Germaine smiled, and unwound the strand of golden hair she’d cut from Sayna’s head.
“You’re going to grind my hair into a salve?” Sayna asked, incredulously. How was that supposed to logically work?
Germaine shook her head. “Not first. First we try the simplest route.”
She wrapped the strand of hair around Torrin’s leg wound, and pulled it gently snug. He winced. 
I should have stopped Fragorl. I should have done better.
She shook her head. No. She had to stop thinking like that. She had done what she could, and without her, things might have been far worse.
I did as well as anyone could. As I could.
A brilliant flash filled the room, truly blinding as the thin strand of hair turned into a ribbon of light. Sayna stared as that light drew into Torrin’s fur, and his wound knit itself closed, skin reforming, fur regrowing. The strand of Sayan’s hair around his leg turned silver, and then crumbled in a tiny shower of sparkling dust. 
After a second of stunned silence, Torrin rotated his ankle. “It… doesn’t hurt anymore.”
“Try standing up.” Germaine suggested, surprisingly calm after what they had all just witnessed. 
Torrin did so. He carefully put weight on the previously injured leg, then took a step, and then leapt into the air, coming down with a jolt. He just stared at Germaine, and then Sayna. “It’s… gone. It’s completely gone.”
“Hmm.” Said Germaine. She stood, and motioned to him. “Bend down, would you? I have a suspicion.”
He obliged, and Germaine removed the bandages from his face. Sayna steeled herself to see a torn and ragged gash on the one side of his muzzle, where Roderick had sliced his knife.
But there was nothing. There wasn’t even a scar. 
Torrin touched his own cheek, dazedly. 
Germaine grabbed the neck of his shirt and yanked it down over his shoulder, despite his yelp of protest. Sayna could see his burn scars had faded, while the older wounds from slaver’s lashes remained. She hadn’t seen them much, but could imagine they too, seemed lighter. The brand seared into his shoulder was still quite visible, though the flesh there could almost be considered less welted.
Germaine let go of his shirt, which Torrin readjusted, looking slightly embarrassed. 
“Well…” Germaine glanced apologetically to Sayna. “I fear I might have… miscalculated your dosage, young queen.”
She looked back to Torrin’s scarless leg, and grimaced. “By quite a lot.”
Sayna glanced back at her hair, which Ayml was still gently brushing out. So she’d been overdosed on magical flowers, basically died, admitted her feelings for Torrin, been crowned queen, and stopped a kidnapping… in one night. She should be beyond exhausted, but she wasn’t.
Maybe that was a side effect of being dead.
Or was she now technically undead?
Redfarl returned with Birch, and after the necessary explanations, the patient former general of the squirrels began asking Sayna how she would like her hair braided. Sayna had no idea. So she told him to do the most practical one for combat.
It took an inordinate amount of time. 
This is my life now.
Sayna tried not to let that depress her.
Redfarl helped, and talked to Ayml and Birch the whole time. How she could smile and laugh after what her mother had done… Sayna didn’t know.
At some point during the process, the infirmary door opened, and Sandingomm walked in. “Germaine, I’m here for me advisor…”
She broke off when she saw Sayna.
Then she clapped her paws once, saying, “What’d I tell ya? Indestructible!”
She tsked her tongue. “I really should have taken bets on if you’d survive; I’d have made a fortune.”
“Uh.” Sayna said, unsure how she could even answer that.
Sandingomm waved a paw at Groddil, who was glaring at her. “Oh relax, I’m jokin’. But seriously, I need Gingi. I have a meetin’ with a war criminal an’ I need the brains a me operation.”
Sayna’s ears pricked up at that. “War criminal?”
Sandingomm sighed. “Er… prisoner a war, I guess?”
“And you’re going to question them?” Sayna asked.
“Yeah.” Sandingomm said. “Gotta see if’n me right a pardon applies ta ‘em.”
She wasn’t sure if it was considered proper or not, but she really did not want to stay around the infirmary all day. Her paws itched to move. “May I come with you?”
Sandingomm looked a bit skeptical. “I dunno. Lemme ask me advisor. S’pose ya did me a solid in Kotir so I'd be fine with it, but I donno what all them laws says ‘bout queens an’ courts an’ stuff.”
Sayna nodded as Sandingomm walked toward a curtained door, calling, “Gingi? Gingi, we have ta question that ferret Whegg captured, remember?”
There were muffled noises from the room, then a tired, “I’ll be there in a moment.”
Sandingomm came back to Sayna, inspecting how her hair was being braided. She shook her head. “It’ll take him twenty minutes. I git he might be tired from bein’ starved, but honestly. He preens like a bird.”
Somehow, while Sandingomm pretended to sound annoyed, Sayna caught the amusement beneath her tone. 
Birch pulled and poked at her hair for another moment, and then nodded to himself. “Milady, why don’t you have a look?”
Redfarl clapped her paws. “She’s so pretty!”
Sayna stood, and sure enough, her hair didn’t drag behind her now. The weight of it had shifted too, now it felt like an unreasonably large hat instead of a heavy veil. She gently patted the intricate braiding, something that felt oddly satisfying beneath her claws.
“Where’s a mirror?”
Germaine pointed to the curtained room Rose had spent the night in. “There should be one in there.”
Sayna trotted to it, brushing the curtain aside. She stopped in front of the plain mirror on the wall, and for a moment, forgot to even look at how her hair was braided. Without the ripples of water to distort her image, she looked even more perfect and her dress even more destroyed. 
That really was a lot of blood. 
The skirt had separated considerably from the bodice where she’d been stabbed, and left a gaping hole to show the blood-smeared fur of her side. Without thinking, she felt her face flush a bit as the attempted to hold the two pieces together.
“Milady, how is it?” Birch asked, as he peeped in nervously. It was as though he wondered if she would snap at him.
Oh, right, her hair.
A single braid ran from the center of her forehead, and two thin braids wrapped her head on each side. They met in the back and combined.
“It is… more hair than I am used to working with, milady.” Said Birch.
“It’s off the ground.” Sayna said, trying to reassure him. “And it’s better than I could do.”
He did look relieved.
She walked from the room, saying, “Um… Sandingomm, I’d love to come. But I think I need a bath and some new clothes.”
Sandingomm waved a paw at her. “Ya know, why not? Who knows, maybe you’ll be faster than the preening prince.”
Sayna highly doubted that. Germaine sent her to bathe in one of the pool chambers adjacent to the infirmary, and Sayna washed the bloodstains from her fur as best she could. It had dried on, so she imagined the faint stains would last several weeks.
Afterwards, she donned her trousers and gray coat, just with a new tunic since the old one’s sleeve and side had been mostly burned away in the assault on Greeneye land. Someone had been kind enough to drop them off for her.
She walked back into the main infirmary, feeling far more herself than she had in hours. Her legs could move again, without the yards upon yards of silken fabric threatening their functionality. Her boots made smart taps on the stone, like they should. Her coattails snapped about her legs, and she felt like she could breathe again, with no stays caging her waist.
Gingivere stood by Sandingomm now; the two were talking. Birch, Redfarl, and Ayml appeared to have left, and Sayna didn’t see Torrin either. Or Groddil for that matter.
They all probably went for breakfast.
Sayna paused a short distance from the two cats. 
I should do that. 
But… she wasn’t hungry. No emptiness gnawed at her stomach, and no weakness as a result. She felt like she’d just eaten, even if it had certainly been hours. Odd.
“Oh Gingi, it’s not all that.”
Sayna looked up as Sandingomm spoke, and instead met Gingivere’s stunned, pale eyes. “I know what you said it’s just…”
“Yes, I’m alive.” Sayna said, growing increasingly tired of this bit of the required conversation. “I’m undead or something now, because of the…”
“Borialis.” Gingivere breathed. “Because of the Borialis. To think the stories of Teavar were true… the land of the warriors who never die. I praise Ignasa that my father never believed the old tales.”
Sayna just blinked, considering those words. And she found that she couldn't agree more.
“In many aspects.” Gingivere added. 
“Well.” Sayna said. “Is it alright if I come? A prisoner of war could have information that might aid us in our next actions, and as a queen, I feel like I should be a part of that.”
Gingivere shrugged. “I see no reason you cannot come. If you do not mind our company.”
“I never have.” Sayna said. “I should get a guard…”
Sandingomm cut her off. “Indigo came with us. Oh an’ she heard them rumors ‘bout ya dyin’ an’ she says she wants ta talk with ya… she’s guardin’ the door.”
Great. Just… great.
Sayna just nodded. “That is fine, then.”
“Wull, come ‘on.” Sandingomm grinned. “We’ve gott’a prisoner ta question. Whegg said he’d meet us there.”
She started toward the door, and Sayna paused. “Did you see where Torrin went?”
She felt bad leaving without telling him, after how upset he’d seemed when she’d died. Sandingomm shrugged. “Yer boy’s takin’ a bath. He was as much a mess as ya.”
Gingivere followed her. “Sandingomm, it’s not proper to insinuate a romantic relationship of a monarch like that!”
He sounded as though he thought Sayna would be angry. But after taking a moment to be embarrassed, Sayna lifted her chin. “No. She is right. We are… at least considering it.”
Sandingomm just grinned. And Gingivere looked more surprised than any had in a good while toward the subject. Sayna rolled her eyes. “It’s not a big deal.”
Sandingomm pulled open the infirmary door, and Sayna paused when she saw Indigo just outside it, Tine too. But her corporal had already seen her, so there was no escaping now. Sayna walked into the hallway, and Indigo put her paws on her hips. “Milady.”
Here it comes…
Indigo took a deep breath, then asked, “Permission to hug you?”
Sayna blinked. “Um… I guess…”
Indigo wrapped her in a tight hug, muttering, “When are you going to learn to stop running away from the ones who just want to protect you?”
“I…” Sayna found herself shocked by just how upset Indigo sounded. “I learned my lesson.”
Indigo stepped back, before grabbing Sayna’s shoulders and shaking her. “And you had to die to do it?”
“You… know me.” Sayna smirked, though her voice shook slightly.
“Yes.” Indigo sighed. “Yes I do.”
She let go of Sayna then, and simply said, “Nice hairdo.”
Sayna sighed. That hair was punishment enough for her stupidity. She supposed she would simply have to get used to its presence. There wasn’t much else to do. Indigo shook herself, and then motioned to Tine, who’d been standing quietly to the side. “Bring up the rear, would you? I’ve horses waiting outside.”
“Horses?” Sayna asked.
“Oh, yeah.” Sandingomm nodded. “Fergot ta mention it’s Lord Warthorn who’s holdin’ this prisoner. So we gotta go ta the otter halls.”
Sayna just nodded. For the most part, she followed Gingivere in silence through the echoey corridors. Sandingomm and Indigo led the way, actually chatting pleasantly. An odd sight to see, but a welcome one too. For a second, Sayna remembered the memory haunting in Kotir’s great hall, where vermin and woodlander laughed together.
Can we be that again?
Gingivere fell into step with her, his walking staff he used for support tapping on the floor. He wore a loose shirt, but his collar bone showed sharply above it, and even the thick fur of his cheeks could not completely hide how sunken they were.
“Are you… any better?” Sayna asked, not knowing what else to say.
He smiled. Everything about him still looked tired, but he smiled anyway. “I can walk, go where I wish, and I have food to eat… yes. I am better. Not to mention, I walk beside a legend, a creature I imagined since youth.”
Sayna looked down. 
It was all she could do to keep the thoughts of failure away.
Would you be so honored, her mind whispered a hiss of doubt through it’s corridors, If you knew what I have done?
She pushed it away. I am forgiven.
And she smiled, because he was looking at her. Because he deserved a perfect hero, all of Mossflower did. She couldn’t be what they deserved, but she could try.
“It… must be odd to finally meet me.”
“It’s surreal.” He confirmed.
Sayna awkwardly nodded. “Well… I’m me. And… here.”
And there went the hope of imitating perfection. Well, that was stupid anyway. It was an obvious exercise in futility.
They reached the kitchen, and stepped out into an overcast morning with a sharp bite to the wind. Sayna did her best to ignore it, and the implications it brought. Just as Indigo had said, they would fight. No matter the season, no matter the hardship, because they had no other choice.
She glanced at Gingivere, now trying to swing onto a large horse’s back.
Unless he could still fight his sister.
He slipped off the horse, and had to use a tree stump to mount. Sayna held in her sigh. But maybe it could still work, if they could buy him time to recover.
A roan with a pink tint to it’s coat bowed to her, distracting her. “Milady.”
Right. Sayna swung onto the horse’s back with ease that she’d never had before. The horse stood, and Sayna asked, “Where’s Dancer?”
“She is with young lord Wildfire.” Said the horse. “She was not aware you would like to go anywhere this morning.”
“Ah.” Sayna supposed she should get used to that happening more and more. “So, does she think I died?”
Her mount paused, then asked, “What?”
Apparently not. 
Sayna shook her head. “Nevermind.”
It was better that way. She’d be sure to explain it all later. Indigo led the way along the road, Sandingomm beside her. Tine rode abreast with Gingivere, while Sayna’s horse tailed a little behind. That… did make sense, considering the two were cats and technically on Amber’s land.
Sayna glanced up into the trees, all bright with fall colors, the perfect camouflage for the typically red or gold fur of the squirrels. Even more perfect than usual. 
That should have made her more assured for the fight to come against the Greeneyes. But thanks to Amber and her increasing irrationality, it made her constantly worry about a rain of arrows coming completely unseen.
They wouldn’t dare. She told herself. They wouldn’t. 
And she hoped she knew enough politics that she’d guessed that correctly.
Insects sang in the underbrush; not yet brown, but most plants seeding. Their noise joined the thudding of hooves, and the soft keening of chilling wind. 
Something… was off. Sayna kept thinking it was the feeling of being watched, but that wasn’t quite it. Of course they were being watched, Amber had scouts everywhere. 
No, this was another abnormality.
But her mind was pulled from it, as they entered a stretch of land as silent as a grave. It was a grave, at least for trees. Abruptly, they went from glorious autumn canopies to blackened spires, if they still stood. Here, she could see the gray sky, and feel the cold wind more strongly.
And then she understood the oddity she was sensing; she barely felt the wind. Well, she felt it. She knew it was cold, she knew it felt cold... but she didn’t feel cold. It didn’t slice to her bones and cause her to shiver, it just… was.
Then she shivered, because of how confusing it was to realize. 
Nearby, Gingivere sighed, glancing at the destruction around them. She knew the look in his eyes, and what that sigh meant. Sayna leaned down a bit, asking her horse, “Can you walk beside Gingivere?”
It obliged, and Sayna looked up at the cat Prince as she neared. She gestured to the woods. “This isn’t your fault.”
He absently nodded, then shook his head. “If I’d just been smarter to begin with, I could have stopped her.”
“I’ve said stuff like that.” Sayna protested. “It’s rarely true.”
Gingivere just gazed down at her for a moment, and then weakly smiled. Whether that was because she was actually good at comforting or giving advice, or because he just didn’t wish to displease her, Sayna couldn’t say. 
Indigo’s horse stopped, and the rest did the same, with soft snorting and thuds of hooves.
She slipped from the back of the horse who had carried her, knowing the walk into the otter halls was too steep and narrow for the hooves of equines. There must be other entrances, Sayna had just never seen them.
Sandingomm jumped off her horse and sauntered to the edge of the ridge overlooking the river. It flowed by in a soft roar today, nearly unnoticeable, and Sayna was sure it had gone down since she’d last seen it. Rain withheld itself, as it always did in autumn. When it returned, it would come as sleet and snow.
She followed Indigo, and Sandingomm in turn. The ledge chiseled from the sheer rock of the river cliffs was sized for otters; Sayna found no difficulty in it. But Gingivere had to tread far more carefully.
When they reached the gilded doors set in the cliffside, they clanked open with no hesitation. Whegg, the halfblood called Gina, and Warthorn stood inside, clearly waiting.
Warthorn dipped his head, eyes particularly tired today. “Sandingomm, thank you for coming. And… you as well, Sayna.”
He didn’t make mention of Sayna’s transformed appearance, so she deduced he must be truly exhausted. 
 
After taking a moment to blink at her like he knew something was off and just couldn’t say what, he turned and motioned that they should follow. “Come.”
Sayna met Whegg’s gaze, and noted he didn’t look too much better, though he was shooting her odd looks. Gina did the same thing, from her place beside him. Sayna supposed she would need to tell everyone at some point. Maybe she could do it in some public announcement and have it done with. 
This was her reality now and… Sayna found herself slightly worried by how swiftly she’d adjusted. 
This strength and stamina flowing through her, this energy… it was like the first stages of Bloodwrath, but with none of the panic and none of the insanity. And somehow, while she knew she had not always felt this way, it was almost like she had. Like the past had been replaced.
She shook herself, forcing herself back to the present. At least her propensity toward distraction hadn’t changed; something that brought her undue comfort. In that small thing, there was familiarity.
Last time she had been here, Warthorn had led her and Rose down a passageway to markets and his palace. This time, he went in a totally opposite direction, down a long staircase and into far smaller, less ostentatious corridors. 
The walls echoed back their party’s many pawsteps, mixing with what sounded to be dripping water.
Sayna couldn’t rightly call this part of the otter halls dank, it was well maintained. It was simply… less welcoming. Torches lit the way instead of lanterns, and the patterns of fish chiseled on the walls were more angled and menacing. 
They came to an open room, with seats chiseled into the rock itself, and a large central space they ringed. Several guards stood at the door opposite the one Sayna and her companions had come through. Warthorn nodded to them. “Bring the prisoner.”
He sat on one of the stone benches, and with the shuffle of boots or rustle of fabric, everyone else did too. Sayna took a seat between Gingivere and Indigo, and waited. She glanced at Whegg. What sort of high-profile prisoner had he captured? This looked like a miniature trial, which Sayna supposed it was.
The far door clanked open and two guards led in a ferret. Just an average gray and brown ferret; average height, build, and everything. He didn’t particularly look like he’d been dragged out of prison, he wasn’t in chains and he wore reasonably clean clothes, 
He did have a nervous glint in his gray-blue eyes. And he kept glancing worriedly at Gingivere, in particular.
“Whegg.” Said Warthorn. “Would you introduce your prisoner to the assembled company?”
Whegg nodded, standing up. “Sir’s an ladies all, this is Duane. General a the Greeneyes.”
Gingivere sputtered. “General? How did that happen?”
Sandingomm turned to him, asking, “He wasn’t?”
“I should say not.” Gingivere sounded bemused, if not dumbfounded. “He was a guardscreature of mine with no particular rank. What I’d love to know is how he convinced my sister to make him general in place of Cludd.”
“If Cludd was a large, rather stupid weasel,” Sayna spoke without thinking, “Then he is dead.”
She could still remember the hollow, smacking thud his body had made when it hit the seat of Tsarmina’s throne. She realized, after a moment, that everyone was staring at her, Duane included. “What? I was there when it happened. It was while Torrin and I were escaping from Kotir.”
There were nods all around at that, except from Duane. He kept staring.
“So you climbed the ranks.” Gingivere said, in regards to Duane. 
Duane wouldn’t meet his former prince’s gaze. “Ta stage a coup. I thought ya was dead, sire. What could I do, let yer sister win?”
Sayna raised an eyebrow. So this Duane was actually a rebel. Perhaps that could be useful.
Sandingomm nodded, stroking her chin. “Intuitive. I like that.”
“Wait.” Warthorn held up a paw. “As he is the General, we must question him before anything else.”
Sayna leaned forward. “Like on the current situation in Kotir and with the Greeneyes. I want to know Tsarmina’s response to the fires we set.”
Sandingomm was nodding, when Whegg spoke up. “I captured him the night a that fire, milady.”
Oh. Well that was unhelpful.
Sayna frowned, looking to Duane. “What do you know, then?”
Duane shrugged. “Lots.”
“What of the Distemper?” Gingivere asked. “How bad did it get?”
There were murmurs all around, and Sayna noticed even Whegg was looking intently at Duane. The ferret cleared his throat. “It ain’t done.”
He shook his head. “Nothin’ Tsarmina’s done’s been able ta stop it. Even heardin’ the sick soldiers inta the east wing a Kotir an’ burnin’ it to the ground.”
“My wing?” Gingivere sputtered, “Burnt?”
Sayna remembered being trapped on the flaming roof of Kotir far too acutely for comfort. She gaped at Duane in horror for a moment, latching onto the part of that sentence that Gingivere didn’t. “She burnt her own soldiers?”
Duane shivered, and nodded. “She burnt ‘em alive.”
There was silence for a long time, and in it, Sayna noticed the halfblood, Gina, wrap her arms around Whegg. At last, Gingivere spoke. “She’s despicable.”
No one argued. 
Sandingomm broke the silence while Sayna was formulating her mixed up thoughts.
“So yer sayin’ she cut down her own defences.”
Duane nodded. “At least in half.”
“Huh.” Sandingomm tapped her chin. “Wonder what we could do with that.”
Despite her visceral horror, Sayna couldn’t agree more. She looked to Duane. “How many strong is her royal garrison as of now?”
He shrugged. “A couple weeks back… whenever I was captured, kinda lost track a time… she had a thousand an’ three hundred. And at least two hundred a them died in the fires ya set on the river banks.”
“Eleven hundred.” Warthorn said, grimness in his tone. “I have seven hundred fit for battle.” 
Sayna nodded. “We have three hundred.”
From beside her, Indigo was nodding, then she added, “Plus my twenty elite. And Whegg.”
Warthorn stood, and began to pace. “Amber has eight hundred, but we can’t count on her help.”
“She likes killin’ vermin.” Sandingomm pointed out. “This sorta thing should be her kind’a sick fun.”
“There is that.” Warthorn agreed. 
Sayna clenched her teeth. “So we take her out before she can muster her impossible reserves. We strike the queen and the nobles, and perhaps fewer citizens will have to die.”
She stood, feeling adrenaline surge through her at these things she was thinking, these things she was saying. “My friends, we take Kotir.”
==Chapter 51 For we Shall Only Die==
Sayna stood in the garden above Brockhall, feeling the ever cooling breezes of an autumn dawn trying to tug her hair free of it’s braids coiled about her head. It failed. Birch and Redfarl had bound them with careful precision this morning.
Tynek stood with her, clad in his gleaming armor, the Kingsword at his side. Rose held his gauntleted paw tightly in her own gloved one. She wore leather and chain armor, with the bow Redfarl had given her slung over her shoulder and a quiver of arrows at her side. Sayna greatly approved of the long knife her sister had on her other side, though she hoped Rose would have no need or opportunity to use it. Still, it was best to never limit oneself to a long-range weapon.
“Are you with us, Sayna?”
Sayna blinked at Torrin, as he laid a paw on her shoulder, his gauntlet clinking against her pauldron. 
She nodded. “Sorry. I was thinking.”
The murmur of voices flowed all around them and the rest of the garden above Brockhall, making it easy to lose herself in that hum of life and thought. On battle maps and documents, three hundred seemed a small number. But face to face, it was borderline overwhelming.
Certainly nothing like the time she and Torrin had been packed into the great hall of Kotir for Cludd’s announcement, but still expansive. 
 
And they had all chosen to follow her. Because at some level or another, they believed in her, and Tynek too.
This time.
Sayna took a deep breath.
This time I will not fail you.
She looked to Tynek, asking, “So, you know your bit?”
He nodded. “I am ready.”
“Right.” Sayna took a moment longer, before walking a step or two from her fellow marks and motioning to Indigo, standing just feet away.
The corporal stepped forward, yelling, “Eyes forward troops! Your king and queen have something to say!”
The conversations hushed. Armor clinked and boots shuffled as the assembly turned to face her, where she stood in a slightly raised part of the garden.
Like that hill outside Marshank.
She closed her eyes, forcing herself to remember that everything was different now. That this would be different too. A gauntlet grabbed hers’, and she looked to see Tynek standing beside her, a tiny smile on his face.
“I know.” His eyes, she almost knew what he was thinking, because she’d guessed for so long. “I was there.”
“Now is not then.” He said, softly. “We are not… them. Those creatures we were.”
Sayna nodded, and turned to her army. They waited on her words, words she could not afford to waste.
“My court, you have waited long for us; for this day. The day when Mossflower rises again. Verdauga thought he drove us to extinction. His daughter thinks she can.”
She looked at as many of their faces as she could, trying to memorize them. Trying to see each one as an individual, not a group. Each of these had a family, a dream, and a life to live. Many would end this day.
“I will not paint this day as beautiful; I will not romanticize this. Nobility is not riding a prancing steed in glittering plate. It is not a great sword, or a crown.”
She could feel hers, her hair twining around and through it, holding it fast to her head.
Sayna held out a paw. “This is nobility. You are nobility. Every one of us is, because we stand in the face of death and we defy it anyway. Today we fight for those we love, for the lands our ancestors built from nothing, for our rights that were taken! The Greeneyes have taken enough from us. Today we take it back.”
Torrin spoke from a bit behind her. “Our freedom.”
Rose chimed in from the other side of Tynek. “Our dignity.”
Sayna glanced at Tynek as he clenched his jaw, saying, “Our lives.”
Sayna felt her nostrils flare as she raised a fist. “Today Tsarmina returns what her father stole and she chose to keep. Today, we rise again. For Mossflower!”
That cry was immediately picked up. They didn’t even hesitate. Weapons raised, all assorted. From tarnished blades to farming sickles, their equally varied wielders held that shout, that roar of freedom.
For Mossflower.
For home.
Dancer trotted up on cue, and Sayna swung onto her back, not waiting for her friend to bother with kneeling. Tynek let Wildfire kneel for him, however. With his arm, there wasn’t much else he could do.
Rose was with Luna, naturally. Torrin mounted a pale green kelpie, one Sayna knew he’d ridden before. 
Moments later Indigo called out, “We march for the Moss. Move out!”
Dancer kept her gait measured, and to her credit, she didn’t prance overly much. Sayna rode between Tynek and Torrin, Rose on Tynek’s left. Mobilizing an entire three hundred took considerable time, so the equines walked at a measured pace.
Indigo, Tine, and several others… she should really learn all of their names… rode directly behind them. Sayna noted Groddil sitting behind Tine, and found herself glad her army had two Prophets.
In any other circumstance, the ride along the road to the river would have been pleasant. Surrounded by friends, the air not too biting. And yet the continual sound of boots behind them would not let her forget what lay at the end of this journey, and what defeat would mean.
This is all we have. We’re betting everything on this battle.
She looked back at their army, stretching along the road behind her. They were disorderly for an army, with no semblance of columns or rows. But they were farmers who had donned the armor of their grandfathers and chosen to come to this end. And Sayna knew she would not trade them for an army who’d trained all their lives.
Because these had a reason to fight, a reason far greater than having been told to.
And she smiled, before looking back at the road ahead.
Just reaching the Moss took at least an hour, if not two. Sayna was beginning to see why Bella had insisted they began positioning their assault in the early morning, even if they planned to attack hours after the sun had set.
Warthorn’s army had assembled in the fjords, and they brightened the surroundings with the way the sun glinted off their chain and metal armor, armor that reminded Sayna of fish scales. They held doubled-headed harpoons for the most part, and many rode kelpies in every possible color. Sayna had never realized there were so many.
The otterking himself sat upon his black kelpie, clad in gold and silver chains. His plate had been detailed in blue and gold patterns, which Sayna couldn’t help but admire. His general, and to Sayna’s understanding, daughter Spring sat on a white river horse by his side.
Bella rode the massive chestnut she always seemed to, though he stood on the river’s banks instead of in it. As Dancer stopped nearby, Sayna could not help but stare. 
Bella wore armor, elegant, beautiful plate that would be impossible for an average sized creature to lift. And Sayna felt her breath catch in her throat, because thanks to the armor she wore herself, she knew Pyralis’s work.
Whegg and Sandingomm sat on horses beside Bella, a roan and a black, respectively. Gina and Gingivere had been ordered to stay with Germaine at Brockhall and help her prepare for the wounded. Brek still slept, to Sayna’s knowledge. And she found her memory… strangely impeccable. Normally it was so peccable.
“Where is Amber?” Tynek asked from his seat on Wildfire, voice wary.
Rose stretched out and patted his arm. “I don’t see her, but she said she’d come.”
Dancer tossed her head, stamping her hooves, unable to remain perfectly still. Sayna leaned down, asking, “How much sugar did you eat?”
“I could die today.” Dancer sniffed. “I am not going to regret my last meal.”
Sayna rolled her eyes, but she did hope Dancer’s words held no actual merit. Torrin’s kelpie took a few steps into the water, even if the other marks’ mounts stayed on the bank. 
They waited like that until Dancer wasn’t the only one fidgeting, they all were. Voices murmured in both armies, and Sayna glanced at Torrin as he said, “I wonder if she even plans to come.”
“I think she will.” Sayna looked at the trees around them, still coated in their fall best. The fire hadn’t burned quite this far along the banks. “I’m not sure why. But while she might be insane, she has her weaknesses.”
Sayna had to wonder if Amber even cared about Mossflower at all, anymore. Maybe she did. Maybe she somehow still thought her actions were helping.
She shook her head and focused on Torrin, who had said something. The mind of Amber was a disturbing thing to contemplate. “Sorry, what?”
He was pointing to her left and behind her. “Speak of her, and she appears.”
Sayna turned, in time to see a wiry bay horse trotting through the trees of the neighboring hill. Amber rode surprisingly well, since Sayna was sure she’d never seen the squirrel on a horse before today. She also wore tooled leather armor, it’s gold-tinted chainmaille more decorative than anything. 
It took a moment for Sayna to figure out where Amber’s army was, for it seemed she came alone in the first few minutes of her cresting the hill.
Then the rustle of trees became impossible to overlook. The treetops shook, as though brushed by a stiff wind. Branches creaked, and leaves showered down. They might blend nearly perfectly with the foliage, but Sayna had no doubt in her mind that Amber had brought her entire army.
She rode her bay up to the assembled leaders, and it arched it’s neck, prancing showily. Since it wore no bridle, Sayna could only assume it was intelligent, and it agreed with Amber’s position. That… was disconcerting. 
The horse trotted straight past Sayna and the other marks, Bella, and then Warthorn. Amber kept her head high and acknowledged none of them. 
Sayna heard Warthorn’s curse as Amber’s army began dropping from and sliding down the trees, and they followed her, though many shot the other leaders regretful looks. Not all did, however. Some had their queen’s bearing. Some even shot glares at Sandingomm or Whegg. Some did the same to Torrin. And Sayna hardly missed that many of those gave her the same sort of disrespect.
So they are divided.
“That’s no good for our assault.” Sayna said, not particularly loudly.
“No.” Tynek agreed from beside her.
Torrin shook his head. “All we may hope is that the common enemy unites us. Though with her attitude… I have my concerns.”
Sayna just nodded as she watched the squirrel armies stream past. 
Yes, Amber did have the largest numbers, but most were archers. There couldn’t be more than two hundred equipped with lances and blades. She should be behind the mice and otters if her soldiers were ranged, not in the lead.
Once Amber’s soldiers all passed, Warthorn raised his harpoon in signal, and the otters moved as result. 
We were supposed to be the middle guard. Sayna tried to keep the annoying twitch of fear and unease from clouding her mind. This wasn’t the plan.
“It’s going to work out.”
Sayna looked up as Torrin said that. She rolled her eyes. “I know.”
And she did, though it was rather nice to hear it said.
She made herself smile as the otters left the river, hooves of their kelpies showering water. She imagined it was grim. Then it was their turn. Bella went first, Sandingomm and Whegg on either side of her. Dancer tossed her head and pranced forward, the other three equines of the marks moving only seconds after her.
Technically, Sayna realized absently, Wildfire was the only actual horse among them.
In the minutes it took the cross the fjords, Sayna glanced back at the woods that had been Mossflower’s last haven for thirty-five years. Until now, few dared leave it’s safety. And now, every creature fit for battle was.
Dancer reached the other side, the Greeneye side, and from there, the ride grew fairly boring again. It felt wrong to think of any part of the day of a battle as boring. But then, as she was coming to see, battles were largely moving groups enmass from one location to another. Her paws itched to draw the Queensword, actually fight, and have this over with.
Torrin rode beside her, while Tynek and Rose were engrossed in their own discussion. And yes, Sayna realized as she heard snippets of their conversation, that it was no longer one sided. Tynek even seemed to be leading pieces of it.
Minutes stretched by, and Sayna glanced at Torrin. She should… say something, shouldn’t she? They might all die today, so she should say some last words, right?
She couldn’t think of any good ones. 
“You want to say something?” Torrin asked. Of course he’d seen her glancing in his direction. What had she been expecting?
“Well… this is a battle. So I’m trying to think of important things to tell you before we attack.”
Torrin pricked up an ear, clearing waiting. Sayna sighed. “But I can’t think of anything in particular. In fact most of my thoughts are on the future but… we may or may not even have that.”
“It is possible that we actually don’t die.” Said Torrin.
Sayna shrugged. “I know. That’s what I’m thinking about… if we live through this, then what?”
If Voh standards were any measurement, then the next step would probably be getting engaged. And Sayna was really not sure how she felt about that. She supposed she’d probably agree if he asked, though. He made her almost want to, or to phrase it in Tynek’s words, not hate it.
“Well.” Torrin leaned back, stretching a bit. “I suppose if we survive, I’ll need to ask you on a formal outing.”
Sayna blinked. “Like courting?”
He raised an eyebrow. “What did you actually think I would do?”
Sayna shook her head. “I don’t know. All this came so easily to Rose. And I’m so… not prepared. I’ve never been in a relationship like this that I wanted to be in. I don’t know how to act. Sorry.”
After a moment she said, “But yes. If we survive I would go on an outing. What would it be?”
“All I can think of is deuling.” Torrin admitted with a smirk.
“Deuling is fine.” Sayna said. “It’s nice.”
“You know, I feel like I should do better than that.” 
Sayna shrugged. “Well, I did like the swamp lands. They were pretty… you know, the bits that aren’t murderous. I might like to go back and take the full tour. Our’s was interrupted, after all.”
His eyes lit up momentarily, and he nodded. “I agree. And hey, maybe we can duel there too.”
“Yar has that amazing library, we could find more of the old script.” Sayna said, actually starting to feel… excited? An official date. She’d never been on one of those before, as she didn’t count nearly dying multiple times and standing on Kotir’s tower in glittery purple underwear.
“That sounds great.” Torrin’s grin widened a bit. Lands Beyond, but it was infectious. 
Maybe… they’d kiss for real.
Why did she want that?
“Then it’s settled.” Sayna forced herself to stop grinning like a fool. She glanced at Rose and Tynek, still focused on each other. Good.
She looked back at Torrin. “You have to live, then.”
“I intend to.” He smirked. “I’d miss quite a bit if I didn’t.”
Sayna grinned again and refrained from smacking herself. She realized Dancer had suddenly gone very quiet, and she glanced down at her freind to find the unicorn grinning up at her. Sayna held in her groan. “Alright. How much did you hear?”
Dancer skipped a step. “Everything. You two are actually courting! I’m so happy for you.”
“Yes well, can you possibly yell that any louder?” Sayna asked, glancing at Rose. Thankfully, her sister seemed to not be paying attention. Then she muttered to Dancer, “And I don’t know if he really wants to make it completely official yet.”
Dancer just grinned. Torrin said nothing else, and Sayna didn’t either. As the ride across prairie stretched on, voices began to still. 
Eventually, even Tynek and Rose’s conversation fizzled away.
Sayna wished she could flop across Dancer’s neck like she had when they were young and lounge. But she was wearing full armor now, and she doubted sleeping on her mount’s neck was queenly in any capacity.
She should have brought a book to read, or preferably her journal. She needed to write about the fact Torrin had just actually asked her out.
On the way to a battle, nonetheless.
At least he hadn’t asked to officially be her boyfriend on the way to a battle. Gruvan did that, and it didn’t get him far.
Wait until after this. Sayna thought to herself. When all is said and done, you must be there to ask that question.
And she knew her answer already.
The noon sun beat down on them as best it could on a day so near winter’s beginning. In armor, it was warm. Sayna kept having to remind herself to take swigs from her canteen.
The sun changed in the sky, inching its way past off-white clouds, but no sentient creature stirred in the grasslands. Crickets jumped all around, singing their scratchy songs during the last days of warmth. Wrens and quail scattered before hooves, now and again.
But outside of that, all grew silent as the sun stood halfway down it’s peak, and Sayna knew they must be nearing the city.
Scattered copses of trees broke the landscape here and there, and at Bella’s orders, Sayna ordered her troops should stop in one. Almost, she could imagine, she could see a smudge on the mostly flat horizon. 
The three hundred only just fit in the thicket of gnarled trees, whipped by the wind of the flatlands.
Sayna dismounted, stretching as the rest of the mounted creature’s followed her example. Dancer did the same.
 
Bella walked to a flat rock, and began spreading out maps. Whegg stood beside her, observing them and pointed things out now and then. Sayna walked over just as Whegg said, “The force I lead’ll move out just at dusk. We should be in by two hours before moon’s zenith, that’s when ya can ‘spect the gates to open.”
Bella nodded, then looked at Sayna. “Have you dispatched your scouts?”
Oh. Right. “I’ll make sure Indigo does.”
She walked back to where her fellow marks were, and saw Indigo giving instruction to a small group, several mice, two rabbits, and one squirrel. They scattered about the time Sayna arrived, and she watched them rush out onto the flatlands, disappearing within the tall grasses.
“Our scouts?” She asked Indigo. 
“Yes milady.” 
Indigo nodded at the grasslands. “I sent seven. Seeing as Amber and Warthorn will be sending their own.”
“Right.” Sayna said. She heaved a sigh. “And now we wait, I suppose.”
And wait they did. 
The day dragged on, and on, and all there was to do was talk, or watch the wind sway the dried grasses.
The sky was expansive out here, sprinkled with rushing clouds that threw shadows across the ground in dark patches. Sayna didn’t suppose there would be any rain from those, they were too small and isolated.
The sun moved, sinking down the western sky, and shadows stretched and distorted. Sayna found a fallen log to sit on at some point, and eventually, Rose came and sat beside her.
Rose said nothing for awhile, before smiling at Sayna. “I noticed you and Torrin talking.”
“What did Dancer tell you?”
“Nothing.” Rose folded her arms around Sayna in a hug. “I overheard. I just didn’t want to interrupt.”
“I like him, alright?” Sayna groaned. “Don’t make this a big deal.”
Rose tightened her hug. “I’m just happy, ok? I can be happy for you. I’ve talked with him, and I approve.”
Sayna blinked, before sighing, “Is everyone in on this? How long did you think I liked him?”
“Since when Roderick tried to scare him away on the Bloodwake.” Rose said, letting her go. “When he went and talked to you instead. And that was when I fully started approving of him too.”
“How much of my life do you pay attention to?” Sayna asked, disconcerted.
Rose smiled. “Sayna, you protect me on the battlefield, and I protect you from bad decisions. Or I try anyway. We’re sisters, and someone has to look out for you.”
“I’m both endeared and rather concerned at what all you know.” Sayna said.
“It’s not like I would spread your secrets.” Rose frowned. “Sayna, what kind of gossip do you take me for?”
Sayna raised an eyebrow, and Rose sighed. “I know, I know. I used to be awful. But after having my name spread around as much as it was back in Evenglade… well, I would never want to do that to anyone else, let alone my own sister.”
She looked away. “Just so you know, I’m sorry for being horrible when we were kits.”
“Rose, you’re the definition of pure. I never meant…”
“No Sayna. Don’t say that.” Rose looked down at her paws. “I used creatures back then. I manipulated them and I was proud. I thought I could force the world to be my version of perfect and I was nasty about it. I told on you so much so I’d look better, not to help you.”
She paused. “Maybe I thought I was helping. I don’t know.”
Sayna said nothing a moment, before she just hugged Rose, saying, “I still love you.”
“I know.” Rose sniffed. “Even if I don’t deserve that.”
She squeezed Sayna back. “I just want you to be happy.”
“We’ll be happy.” Sayna grabbed Rose’s shoulders and made her meet her gaze. “Don’t you forget it. You’re going to marry Tynek and have those eight or however many kits you want. Or whatever. Don’t get any ideas of being a martyr again.”
Sayna held eye contact with her sister, saying, “This is not a goodbye.”
Rose slowly nodded. “Not for you either.”
“I don’t plan on it.” Sayna said.
She stood as she saw some figures out on the grasslands still a good ways off, and Rose did too, slipping her bow from her back.
Sayna shook her head. “Wait, I think those are our scouts.”
Rose blinked, asking, “How can you tell?”
“Well, their clothes and weapons, for one.” Sayna said. “And they’re alone and clearly wanting to be seen.”
“Sayna.” Rose said hesitantly. “How can you possibly tell what they’re wearing? They’re so far out.”
Sayna frowned, and actually took note of the distance for the first time. Rose was right, those scouts were more than two hundred yards out, and she could still make out the details of them with reasonable clarity.
She blinked hard, looking at other things on the prairie, other thickets and boulders jutting from the grass. Had her vision always been this sharp?
“Rose?” She asked, pointing at the dark smudge on the horizon she was sure had to be Kotir. “Can you see that?”
“See what?” Rose asked, and Sayna felt her stomach flop a bit. 
So she did have vision better than she should. Just another oddity. 
“Nevermind. Let’s join the others for the report.”
Rose said nothing more, and followed her to the gathered leaders. Sayna smiled when she noticed Tynek and Torrin talking. Tynek needed friends. 
“The scouts are back.” She said as she neared.
Torrin frowned. “Already?”
“It has been hours.” Tynek pointed out.
Torrin shrugged. “Sure, but they were supposed to stake out Kotir and determine the movements of the guard patrols. That should take a lot longer than what… three or four hours? I was under the impression they wouldn’t return until an hour or two before dusk.”
Sayna frowned, but said nothing until the scouts returned to their thicket. The only one she knew by name was Fiske, the squirrel.
Indigo nodded to them from where she stood with Bella and Whegg at the war map. “Report.”
Fiske was the one to step forward, as the others hesitated. 
“General, milords and ladies… I fear what we expected to find… well, thou must know. We saw not a single guard in all the time we observed the city. Nor didst any come out or go in.”
“It’s like it’s a ghost town.” One of the rabbits chimed in. “Still as death.”
“And the stench of it!” Said a mouse. “It’s like death.”
Fiske nodded and crossed his arms. “No sounds of life come from within, and the castle gates hang open to any. I fear we are not the first to attack, though I saw no signs of destruction. Just an empty city, sitting lonely on an empty grassland.”
Torrin flicked his ears back. “Then it must be some kind of trap.”
“I hast thought of it.” Fiske nodded. “But why wouldst an entire city go still? How couldst an entire city go still, even if it was to somehow draw us in?”
Sayna felt unease settle in her heart. Something was wrong, something had happened, and she should know the answer. She should, right? There had been something…
Whegg interrupted her train of thought. “Tsarmina couldn’t get that city ta go silent. It’s the capitol, it’s always movin’ and livin’. Ain’t any possible way.”
“We’ll have to investigate, at least.” Sayna said. “Right?”
Torrin grabbed her paw. “We cannot walk into a Greeneye trap. You cannot.”
Sayna shrugged, before squeezing his paw back. “I wasn’t going to go alone.”
Bella shook her head. “Even still. We should wait for Argulor and the dragons. They will have a much simpler time checking the situation without being seen.”
Sayna felt her little claw twitch, and she sighed. More waiting. Torrin let go of her paw as Tynek said, “I do not know how long I can make myself wait.”
“However long we have to.” Sayna said, a flatness in her tone. 
“Well…” Rose piped up from where she stood a little behind Sayna. “I thought this might happen. So I packed dinner for us.”
Sayna blinked at her sister. “You brought a picnic to a battle.”
“You never know when you’ll need a picnic.” Said Rose. “Luna helped me. Come on.”
Tynek didn’t hesitate; he followed her and she grabbed his arm. That looked odder with both of them in full armor, though somehow, oddly right. The king and his queen.
“Your sister brought a picnic to a battle.” Torrin nodded to himself, before laughing. “From what I know of Rose, that makes sense.”
“Oh, it’s very Rose.” Sayna sighed. “I’m not hungry. But I suppose she’ll be angry if I don’t eat.”
Torrin shrugged. “We should have something. Are you stressed?”
“How could I not be?” Sayna gave herself a little shake. “This keeps dragging on. I knew we wouldn’t attack until dark, but I thought there would be more positioning or movement before then. And now the scouts are telling us things that could indicate Tsarmina’s waiting for us. I just…”
Her paw clenched, and she sucked in a deep breath. “I just want to do something.”
He smiled. “Tell you what. Why don’t we duel after Rose’s picnic?”
“Yes!” Sayna said it too quickly, and smirked a bit. “Sorry. Yes. I need something to expend this energy, I feel like I could run up a tree.”
“Come on you two!”
Sayna looked up, to see Rose was waving them over, and she already had things spread on the grass by Bella’s war-planning rock. Sayna walked over, figuring there was no escaping food, even if her stomach was doing somersaults and it felt like someone had punched her in the gut.
Thankfully, her eyes weren’t stinging yet.
She sat down on the grass with the clank of metal plates and the tinkle of chainmaille, and took note of what Rose had brought. Bread and cheese, probably the nut kind if she knew anything about her sister. A salad with various fruits in it, and some nuts. 
“No meat, I see.” Sayna remarked. 
“Not eating meat for a day won’t kill you, Sayna.” Rose said, a bit primly.
While that was true, it was rather unhelpful to eat less protein-rich foods right before she would probably have to use Bloodwrath. Still, she said no more. She should have thought of that and brought her own food.
She remembered the last battle she used Bloodwrath in, and shivered. She’d been so near collapse she’d instinctively started licking the blood from her gauntlets.
I won’t do that. I won’t, not again.
She glanced at Torrin as he sat nearby, a grin on his face as he accepted Rose’s bread and cheese. 
Would he hate me if he saw that?
Sayna decided she didn’t want to risk it. Yes, of course she wanted to be honest with him, but she would rather erase the creature she had been. After all, that creature was dead. Literally. Perhaps she would not have to return to the darkest parts of herself.
She took the slice of bread stacked with cheese that Rose gave her, and forced herself to eat. It tasted good, objectively. But it caught in her throat even still, thanks to the feeling that her stomach was trying to climb up it.
Sayna forced herself to drink some water, and just breathe.
Argulor would come in a few hours, and they could discover whatever it was that was happening.
It couldn’t really be a trap, could it? How would Tsarmina have learned of their plans?
Sayna honestly couldn’t think of a way. No, something else was happening here.
She ate her meal mostly in silence, listening to the conversations of her fellow marks, and the hum of conversations in the army. Would they win? Would they lose? Either way, today they stood for Mossflower.
Those were the murmurs she heard.
But something itched at the back of her mind, and not Bloodwrath for once. It was a feeling, a settling dread that she had forgotten some integral piece of everything. But what? It was there. It was important, but it danced just out of her mind’s eye, a concept she’d pushed to the crevices of her understanding for a later date… and then lost track of.
What all had happened when she’d first went into Kotir? If she could remember when Rose was born, couldn’t she remember what happened a few months back at best?
The shame of the glittery purple underwear clouded a lot, since it had taken up most of her attention, at least at first.
“... isn’t it, Sayna?”
Sayna looked up as Rose said something, shaking herself. “Sorry, what?”
Rose rolled her eyes. “I said, it’s nice to have a picnic like when we were kits, isn’t it, Sayna?”
“Oh.” Sayna absently nodded. “Yes.”
Tynek was gazing intently at her, and he asked, “What is wrong?”
“I’m trying to remember something, something I think everyone is overlooking.” Sayna said, turning to Torrin. “When we first went into Kotir, in disguise, what do you remember?”
He raised an eyebrow, at last smirking, “Outside of the disguises themselves… there was a lot of fire. And we used Tsarmina’s dresses to scale her tower.”
“Oh, and you threw me off Luna.” Rose said.
“Before that bit.” Sayna shook her head. “Torrin, what do you remember about the townsfolk?”
He blinked, then munched thoughtfully on cheese. “I was so focused on not messing up and getting us all killed, that’s rather blurry. They did really want their fortunes told though.”
Sayna froze. 
She staggered to her boots, looking around for Sandingomm. The cat was actually sitting on the edge of Bella’s war-map rock, swinging her legs and munching on dried fish. 
“Sandingomm!” Sayna stumbled the few steps between them, legs wobbly from being crossed too long.
She looked up, rubbing crumbs from her mouth. “Yeah?”
Sayna reached her, and pointed out on the flatlands, toward Kotir. “Remember when we went into Kotir? You told me most of the futures you read would end soon, didn’t you?”
Sandingomm stopped swinging her legs. “Yeah.”
“But not by a blade, right?”
Sandingomm slowly shook her head. “Don’t think so.”
Torrin had stood and followed her, and Tynek was helping Rose up. Sayna softly said, “Duane said Tsarmina burnt her own soldiers because they were sick. What would she do if her entire city were sick?”
Sandingomm swallowed her fish, saying, “But Fiske didn’t say anything about the city being burnt.”
“He said the castle gates were open, didn’t he?” Torrin asked.
“She left them.” Sayna said. “She left her creatures to die.”
Her voice was flat. “She could have gone anywhere.”
Silence. There was just… silence.
“What do we do?” Tynek voiced the question everyone must be thinking. 
Rose nodded. “If Tsarmina’s gone… how do we find her? She has the complete element of surprise if we don’t even know her location.”
“We donno she left fer sure, do we? Maybe she just wants us ta think that.” Sandingomm said, licking her paws clean.
Sayna glanced at Torrin, and he said, “Mossflower assembled today to kill the the kingdom that broke them. What will we do if that kingdom is not there to suffer their anger?”
Everyone looked at everyone else, but Sayna could see in their eyes that no one had an answer.
Finally Sayna said, “I guess we investigate to find where Tsarmina fled to.”
There were nods all around, at that moment, Bella came over. “Should I know anything in this discussion?”
Tynek nodded. “Tsarmina is gone.”
“What?” Bella asked, completely incredulas. “What do you mean by that?”
“We think she may have run.” Sayna said. 
Bella rubbed her forehead. “What? Why would she leave her largest and most defensible city and castle when she suspects there could be an uprising. Where are you getting these ideas?”
Sandingomm spoke from where she still sat on the war-map rock. “She would if her entire city was sick.”
Bella said nothing. She just stared at Sandingomm.
Whegg walked up, saying, “I talked ta Indigo ‘bout her scouts an’... wait.”
He looked at the group, and then asked, “What’s goin’ on?”
“Whegg, tell me true.” Bella sounded desperate, or on the verge of it. “If Kotir became too infested with Distemper, would Tsarmina flee? Would she leave the city abandoned?”
Whegg remained completely still, before the eye of his that wasn’t draped in hair widened, and he said, “Yes.”
Rose’s voice was tiny in the stillness. “Where would she go?”
“Theas-Lidir.” Whegg didn’t hesitate. “It’s her second biggest castle.”
“Yeah, my castle!” Sandingomm broke in. “I don’t want her rancid pelt stinkin’ up me dad’s castle, I should be sittin’ on the throne there.”
Bella gave her a look, and said, “Sandingomm, there are many things that should be, but aren’t.”
She turned to Whegg. “Go to Indigo. Have her send messengers to Warthorn and Amber. This must be discussed further.”
Tynek growled in his throat at the mention of Amber, and Rose rubbed his arm. Sayna glanced at Torrin, to see he looked no more thrilled. Sandingomm was scrunching up her nose, and Bella looked like she needed a nap… more than usual.
Whegg hurried off, but Sayna felt a doom settle on her.
This was going to go poorly, wasn’t it?
And annoyingly, Amber was the one who arrived first, in a shockingly short amount of time too.
She came leaping through the branches of the trees, unconcerned with how spindly they were compared to Mossflowers. The squirrelqueen dropped to the ground a few feet away, and it looked to Sayna like she hadn’t even brought guards. Well. Apparently Sayna wasn’t the only one who did inadvisable things, though Sayna decided she wanted her bar set quite a bit higher than Amber.
“What is this I hear about the Greeneye’s scum fleeing? I was promised blood!”
Oh, this was not good. Amber’s snarling tone said it all, along with the poisoned glare she shot Sandingomm.
Bella curled her lip at Amber. “None of us could have forseen this.”
“Oh you couldn’t?” Amber flicked her tail up. “Great and mighty Prophet that you are. Or what about that magic future-telling witch, whatever she thinks she is.”
Sandingomm bared her teeth, but Sayna sneered, “You wouldn’t have listened to her anyway.”
It just spilled out in a rush of disgust.
Amber bristled, and then turned a hateful gaze on Sayna. “Be silent when real leaders are talking.”
“I’m a queen as much as you.” Sayna lifted her chin.
Amber laughed. “You’re a novelty, a relic, a weapon. Your grandfather was weak, you are too.”
“He was a kit, Amber!” Bella snarled. “And do not speak to a fellow leader that way.”
“She doesn’t deserve that title!” Amber jabbed a claw at Sayna. “She’s consorting with that half-blood, she’s thrown her lot in with him.”
“I will consort with whoever I want.” Sayna growled, glancing at Torrin. He shot Amber a death glare. 
Amber grinned, a forced, hateful look. “Then you’re a traitor, and you can be deposed.”
“I’m the traitor?” Sayna actually laughed, she couldn’t help it. “That’s a bold claim from you.”
“I could kill you where you stand, kit.”
“Try it.” Sayna felt the grin twist her features. “Give me your best shot.”
Was it so wrong that this confrontation felt so good? It purged the mounting anxiety from her brain, giving her pure confidence. As long as Amber kept being Amber, Sayna would be in full control, Bloodwrath only a memory.
Amber smirked. “I’d use it on him.”
She pointed at Torrin. “Because that would hurt you so much more, wouldn’t it?”
Bloodwrath was not a memory. 
Red flashed in Sayna’s vision, and the next thing she knew, she had Amber pinned against a tree, gloved paw clenched tightly around her throat. She heard her voice, fearful and layered over with Bloodwrath’s guttural hissing. “Don’t touch him!”
And pinned to a tree, Bloodwrather’s paw around her neck, Amber grinned.
And she said four words that chilled Sayna.
“I figured you out.”
Amber’s sneer widened. “Little queen.”
The moment ended as Bella snapped, “Amber! Stop antagonizing Bloodwrathers! Sayna. Please. Do not do this to yourself.”
“Sayna.” Torrin said from somewhere a bit behind her. “You’re still in control here. Don’t listen to it.”
“It’s for his protection.”
Sayna started at the voice in her head, Bloodwrath. But for once, it didn’t bring her more fear, just confusion. What was Bloodwrath doing? Hadn’t she tried to kill Sayna, the last time they had met?
She slowly let go of Amber, and the squirrel rubbed her throat, still chuckling dementedly.
Sayna rubbed her head, before glancing back at the others. They were all tense and staring at her, except Tynek. He seemed completely calm. She could feel the instinctive tears drip from her eyes, shameful and telling in their bloody streaks. “I’m… fine. She’s gone again.”
The others relaxed, and Bella stalked toward Amber, snarling, “You and I. We’re going to talk. Alone. Even if I have to drag you by the ear.”
Amber rolled her eyes, but left with Bella. 
Sayna glanced at Sandingomm, now standing on the war-map rock… and the maps too… tail bushed up.
“Er… sorry.”
Sandingomm slowly returned to her seat, nodding. “S’ok. She deserved it… an’ I sure don’t mind seein’ Amber eat it.”
Rose had relaxed again, and she pulled something from her satchel. “Sayna, do you need a kerchief? For… you know. The blood.”
Sayna just nodded and took the white cloth from her sister. She wiped her eyes, leaving crimson smudges. “That’s… going to be hard to get out.”
Sayna said it because she didn’t know what else to say. 
She wanted to go hide.
Rose shrugged and took her kerchief back. “Sayna. It’s fine.”
Tynek smiled that tiny smile of his, saying, “You are… okay. It happens. I know.”
Sayna swallowed and finally had the courage to turn to Torrin. “Sorry, I should have held her back. I know… I let Amber bait me. I was stupid, I…”
He hugged her. 
Wonder of wonders, he folded his arms around her and held her close, bloodstained cheeks and all. Sayna froze for a moment, and then, as her rush of energy drained off completely, she melted against him.
“You don’t have to defend me.” He said, quietly.
I wanted to. No… I wanted to use Amber. I wanted to forget. I played her game because I thought I could win… because I was winning. I was winning so much. 
Sayna hugged him back as he said, “Not at the cost of yourself.”
But that spike of fear, fear so pure she’d tapped into Bloodwrath from complete calm..
Sayna tightened her hug for a moment, saying, “Maybe I want to.”
This was dangerous. For both of them. For everyone.
Torrin let go of her, and drew back enough to hold her gaze, though it was hard for Sayna to even meet his. Then he smirked.
“Let her take her shot. I’d like to see her hit me.”
Sayna wiped the back of her paw across her nose. “What?”
“Amber.” Torrin shrugged. 
Oh. 
Sayna held in the smile that wanted to cross her face, but it came anyway.
At that moment clopping rang out, and Warthorn’s black kelpie rushed to a stop nearby. He vaulted from it’s back, asking, “Where’s Bella? What happened?”
“Amber.” Sandingomm said. “Amber happened.”
“Hellgates.” Said Warthorn. And that summed everything up fairly well.
Clinking made Sayna look up as Bella came back toward them, Amber in tow like a disobedient kit.
“Warthorn, thank you for coming.” Bella said, primly. “Now. I assume the scouts told you of our situation?”
“Some.” Warthorn said.
“Well in short.” Bella said, “We believe, due to eye-witness, Tsarmina has fled Kotir in favor of Theas-lidir thanks to the rampant outbreak of Distemper in the city.”
Warthorn stared. “We marched our armies all this way for nothing?”
Sayna took a deep breath, nodding. “It appears so.”
“But shouldn’t we check?” Rose asked.
“We’ll have to.” Bella said, grimly. 
“Yeah.” Sandingomm said. “It’d be nice ta know how many Tsarmina lost ta this. Or at least hav’a good idea.”
Warthorn was nodding, and Sayna noticed that Amber actually was too. Bella looked at the group. “I doubt we need to bring our entire army.”
“Shouldn’t we, though?” Amber spoke suddenly. “In case this is a trap of some kind?”
“But… wouldn’t that just expose more creatures to Distemper?” Rose asked. She wilted a bit under Amber’s glare.
Warthorn scratched his chin. “Both points are valid.”
“Was Argulor not coming?” 
Everyone looked to Tynek as he spoke. “Tonight, yes?”
“Well… yes.” Warthorn said. “But if these reports are true, I’d like to investigate and return east of the Moss to hold the element of surprise. Where we are now, we could still mount an attack on Theas-lidir. She does not yet know our numbers.”
He glanced at Sayna and Tynek, and Sayna found herself nodding. That logic seemed sound.
“Perhaps we could take some of our numbers?” Sayna asked. “One or two hundred each, the rest awaiting our call should we have need of them?”
Bella and Warthorn started nodding, and after a moment Amber grumbled, “Yeah, alright.”
“It’s settled then.” Warthorn backed to his kelpie, then vaulted onto its back. He seemed just as eager to be moving as Sayna had been. “We move out.”
Amber huffed as Warthorn galloped off, and she darted up the nearest tree, disappearing with a rustle. Bella turned to Sayna and the others. “Well, that’s done it. Choose your two hundred quickly, Amber will attempt to get there first.”
Sayna nodded, and looked for Indigo. The corporal stood not far off, watching the proceedings closely.
Had she seen the episode with Bloodwrath?
No. Sayna shook her head. She couldn’t obsess over that. She couldn’t hate herself for slipping. No one had died, and no one had even been severely injured. 
Just keep in control.
Sayna walked toward Indigo, making a mental note to ask Bella how Ignasa could help her bind Bloodwrath… well, the first reasonable chance she got.
“Indigo, choose two hundred soldiers. We march on Kotir.”
“Just two hundred, milady?” Indigo seemed disconcerted by that idea.
“Trust me, Indigo.” Sayna said. She didn’t have time for more explanations. Also, she was mildly curious on if the rabbit would actually obey her instructions.
Indigo did. She bolted off as Sayna looked for Dancer.
She found her friend grazing beside Wildfire, a little outside their encampment thicket. “Dancer, we have to go.”
Dancer lifted her head, pricking her ears up. “Already? Why?”
“You’ll see.” 
Dancer raised an eyebrow, but just knelt for Sayna to easily mount. 
It took some time to gather the forces required, and Sayna spent that time watching the sun’s slow descent in the sky, clenching and unclenching her paw on Dancer’s mane.
No matter what jokes Torrin told in regards to Amber, she meant him harm. That Sayna did not doubt. And she would not get a chance to do whatever it was she planned. Sayna intended to watch her with paranoid closeness.
And what should she do about that? She couldn’t nearly Bloodwrath everytime someone shot Torrin a few insults or death threats. That was, unfortunately, probably going to be a fairly common occurrence, and especially as long as Amber was around. The ferocity in which Bloodwrath acted in regards to him was more than frightening.
Too many emotions. I have too much tied to him. 
Should she distance herself, at least for the time being? For everyone’s sake? Maybe after all was said and done, they could start a proper relationship.
She would need to talk with him. 
The worst idea would be to just shut him out. Though hiding was a temptation… no. That was the old Sayna. She hadn’t chosen to come back to life just to hide.
“Sayna?”
She looked up at Torrin’s voice, to see him sitting on his pale kelpie, near Rose on Luna and Tynek, just mounting Wildfire. 
“We’re ready.”
Sayna nodded, before glancing around and deducing everyone else was too, at least that she could tell. Dancer walked up to Wildfire’s side, and Sayna looked to Tynek. “Do you give the order, or should I?”
He shrugged.
Sayna sighed, and held out her paw. “We move out!”
Indigo carried that order to the troops behind as Dancer walked forward. With a general thudding and clanking, the rest followed suit.
They rode toward the setting sun, toward that dark stain the sinking sun made even more obvious. While she knew she had less troops than when she left Brockhall, it didn’t feel like she’d left all that many in the thicket. Which was… true. She still had over half her army.
Sayna glanced to the left, and far across the grasslands she could see the glitter of Warthorn’s army. Their armor nearly sparkled.
She quickly looked to the right, noting the far duller mass that was Amber’s force. 
And Sayna sucked in a breath of the chilly autumn air, trying to ready herself for anything. She had the Queensword, Dancer… Torrin, Rose, and Tynek… and most importantly, Ignasa.
“You are with me, right? You said you would never leave me.”
Did she truly believe that?
Sayna smirked to herself. Was she truly still questioning at this point? No. She was just on edge.
“And I believe you.”
Like releasing a pent up breath, peace flowed around her. It ached, almost, but in a good way, a kind way. Sayna relaxed, and turned her attention to Kotir, now quite visible. Surely the others would be able to see it now too.
Her sense of calm lasted until the smell began to become noticable.
The scouts hadn’t been overstating it. The closer to Kotir they got, the more and more terrible it became. 
The smell of rot permeated the air, the smell of death itself.
Sayna wished she had not eaten. It all wanted to back up now anyway, and she held in the reflex to vomit. By the time she could make out the individual houses of Kotir, she was beginning to wonder how long she could really hold it in.
Some creatures were coughing. Torrin and Tynek, oddly enough, didn’t seem too terribly affected. Rose on the other paw, had a paw clamped over her muzzle, and she looked ready to be sick at any time. 
There was nothing Sayna knew that she could liken this too. The very air of Kotir reeked with decay.
The armies passed farms, and Sayna noted the corpses of several horses in a paddock. Every bit of grass inside it had been torn up and eaten, and the bodies still appeared acutely malnourished.
Dancer shivered, making a gagging sound.
The city loomed just ahead, and there, Sayna began to see the corpses of not just livestock, but citizens.
Half rotted bodies in beggar's rags lay in the shadows of buildings. Some even wore better clothing, and looked to have collapsed in the street, though those were few. Dancer stopped outside the city, and with one accord, Mossflower did too… even Amber and Warthorn’s armies. Sayna looked over at Whegg, sitting on a roan that stood dwarfed by Bella’s massive chestnut.
“Whegg? How many lived in Kotir?”
He said nothing for awhile and just stared at the city for awhile, before he said quietly, “Four thousand. Not countin’ soldiers.”
Sayna felt her ears pin. 
At some point, so many must have grown ill or escaped while they could, that there was no one left to bury the dead. 
“Oh, it’s awful.” Rose had her paws over her mouth. “We have to go in there?”
Tynek reached out with his good paw, brushing her shoulder. “You stay with the army.”
He looked to Sayna and Torrin. “We will go.”
“I’ll go.” Whegg said, grimness in his tone. “It’s me city, or it was once.”
“Same fer me.” Sandingomm said, from Bella’s other side.
Bella nodded. “Bring guards. And we must get Amber and Warthorn. But I am inclined to say this is not a trap. I don’t think Tsarmina could fake something like this.” 
She muttered something to her horse, and the creature loped off in the direction of Warthorn’s army. 
Assembling the party to go into Kotir took some time. And in all that time, Sayna heard plenty of murmuring from her own army; plenty of shifting armor and occasional gagging sounds. But not once did she hear a sound from the city. Not the whinny of a horse, clang of an anvil, or yell as a street kit stole someone’s coin pouch. Just an empty, broken silence. In the light of early sunset, Sayna could not help imagine the buildings themselves were the decaying bones of lost greatness.
Once Amber and Warthorn arrived, guards in tow, Bella gave the group a stern look. “By Ignasa’s word, don’t touch anything. Is that clear?”
Even Amber consented to nod.
Bella glanced at the city and curled her lip. “We investigate the castle for signs of Tsarmina, then we get out.”
After a round of nods, Bella sighed. “Then let us do this.”
As the group of mounted creatures left the bulk of the army, Sayna felt the silence as it blanketed over them. In it, even their multitude of equine hooves seemed dull and far softer than they should be.
Sayna did her best to breathe shallowly, in this city of death. 
Fewer corpses lay in the street than Sayna had been expecting, though the ones that did were particularly horrible. They looked to have collapsed while attempting to go about their days. Most lay like they’d tried to drag themselves along. 
They were as thin as Gingivere had been when Sayna had first met him, worse even. Some had lain in the street so long their desenitagrating tatters of flesh pulled away from pale bones. Their rotting fur flaked off around their broken forms.
How long had it been since Kotir had given up burying their dead?
How long since Tsarmina escaped?
They made their way up the sloping road toward the castle, where indeed, the gate hung ominously open.
Indigo made them wait outside while she and several of her guards went in first and did a precautionary check. Though it was not as if Tsarmina could possibly be here.
Moments later, Indigo returned, expression grim. “There’s no one here. No one alive anyway.”
Bella nodded, then looked at Sayna and Torrin. “While you were in here the first time, did you happen upon her council chamber or office? There could be important clues solidifying where she went.”
She glanced at Whegg. “Not that I don’t believe your wisdom in this. We simply have one chance at making this attack go right, and we can’t afford another miss like this.” One 
Whegg just nodded his agreement, though Sayna heard Amber snort.
Bella dismounted, and Sayna absently noted that she wore nothing but a side knife. To be fair, her’s was the size of a normal sword, but Sayna had to suppose Bella’s primary weapon would be her water.
Torrin slipped from his kelpie’s back, and Sayna slid off Dancer. “You can come if…”
“No thanks.” Dancer said quickly, before leaning down and muttering, “You have your boyfriend now, alright? I prefer to stay out here, where all the grotesquely rotting corpses are not.”
She paused, then tossed her head. “Well. Where there’s less of them, and at least a prayer of a breeze.”
Sayna rolled her eyes, but nodded. It wasn’t as though she could truly blame Dancer. This task was disgusting.
She joined Torrin, and Tynek joined them a moment later. Indigo and Tine took up places beside them. And they walked into Kotir for the third time in Sayna’s life. First, she’d been dragged through these gates as a prisoner. Second, she’d snuck in as a spy. This time, she’d expected if she strode into this castle, it would be as a conqueror. 
As it was, this just felt… wrong. Distemper had done all the conquering, and Sayna found herself feeling like a scavenger, a grave robber, disturbing the final rest of creatures who had suffered true misery.
The inside of the courtyard was like the streets, corpses scattered here and again. They passed the stables, which, as far as Sayna could tell, were empty. Tsarmina undoubtedly took all her horses when she fled, so they hadn’t suffered the fate of most ferals trapped in their enclosures on surrounding farms.
The castle loomed ahead, the east part a blackened, roofless ruin, singe marks from that blaze staining one side of the great tower. The doors to the main keep hung open, an armored body slumped to the ground beside them. 
Well. He’d tried to put his armor on, though really, he only wore a chestplate and pauldrons over a quilted hauberk. Perhaps the rest had been too heavy to manage.
Sayna blinked as they walked into an unlit castle, one that wreaked of decomposition even worse than the city. 
She shivered, and Sayna stepped a bit toward Torrin and Tynek is Indigo found an unused torch and lit it with the clacking of her flint. 
Light flared up, and Sayna jumped. Several bodies lay in this main entrance alone, two guards, and a mouse in the gray uniform of a slave. Right. The slaves of Kotir… everyone had forgotten them. They had died as miserably and alone as their masters.
Sayna glanced at Tynek, noting his clenched jaw.
“Well.” Indigo’s normally chipper voice sounded strained. “Let us find if the cat queen died with her creatures.”
Sayna blinked, as they walked deeper into the castle, a tomb. That… was a good point. What if Tsarmina had actually succumbed to the disease, and they were dealing with her replacement, whoever that was.
The deeper into Kotir they went, Sayna began seeing flashes of green-lit memory. The worst ones were where she’d watch a creature’s imprint stagger along the wall for awhile, gasping rattling breathes, before collapsing right into a rotting corpse on the floor, sides still heaving, though it’s physical form lay still in death. It gave the dead the eerie illusion of still being alive. 
But the memory ghosts were everywhere, rail thin with sunken eyes and rattling breath. 
Sayna couldn’t help but recoil when one appeared mere inches from her face, it’s face a mess of fur matted by discharge. It walked straight through her, continuing it’s tortured last memories and emotions on a loop for eternity.
Torrin grabbed her paw, and she clasped it back tightly, a reminder that she still lived, that she was not meant to remain among the dead’s memories forever.
“I am glad these are not truly spirits.” Torrin said as Sayna slid closer to his side. “For relieving these moments forever would be truly cruel.”
Indigo flinched back as another of the memories swept through her, and she shuddered. “They’re so cold.”
Sayna stared at one, a young squirrel slave shivering in a corner their body now lay curled in. She felt inexplicably drawn to these things, a sick desire to watch them forever, to live their stories with them. Tears filled her eyes, because they hurt. Each one did, but together, they formed a picture of agony worse than anything she had ever felt. 
Their thoughts whispered in her mind, trying to convince her they were her own.
Someone… help us…
Please, I don’t want to die!
Just one more step. One more. I will be alright, if I can just…
She left us!
The healer… I must find him… his quarters… they were near here, right?
Please… oh Ignasa, please.
Tsarmina… will come back for us. She is my queen I… trust her. I do. She will send help for the city… she will… not abandon us… 
Let this end, let this end, just let me die!
Curse the queen! Curse all the stars in heaven… why me?
“Sayna.”
Sayna blinked at that one, out of place among the others. Not a cold wail as a creature spent their last moments begging for relief or cursing their fate. A warm voice, a kind one, that pulled her from the draw of a thousand broken stories that wanted to show her their misery for as long as she drew breath to watch them. 
“This is past.”
Sayna sucked in a breath and clung to Ignasa’s voice, nodding in agreement. “I know.”
She blinked hard, feeling for the first time in awhile, the sensations of physical things again. Like being shook.
“Sayna! Sayna?”
Sayna forced her eyes open, feeling like she had just woken from a long sleep. Torrin held her by the shoulders, and Tynek stood nearby, looking worried. 
“I… sorry.” Sayna said, and sank against Torrin as he pulled her close, pinning his ears. 
“We need to get out of this hallway, now. Indigo?”
The rabbit nodded, grabbing hold of Tine, who’s eyes seemed a bit glazed over. He stumbled dazedly after his corporal as she dragged him along, and Sayna let Torrin lead her from those siren memories. 
She didn’t feel particularly drained or weary, just numb.
Tynek drew the Kingsword with it’s faint blue fire and brought up the rear, and Sayna pinned her ears against the wails of the ghosts that didn’t want her to leave. Though interestingly, they kept far from Tynek’s sword, vanishing whenever they came too close.
“That’s corrupted magic.” Torrin said. “It wants to keep us here.”
“Yeah.” Sayna took a shaky breath. “It was dumb of me to pay it attention. Sorry… thanks for pulling me out of that.”
“And thank you, Ignasa.”
She added in her mind.
Torrin half hugged her as she wiped the tears from her eyes, but they kept silently coming. Because she could still hear the sobbing, the wailing, the voices begging for help, death, or just compasion; a paw to hold as they died. The old, the young, the slave, and the free all joined one another in a song of pain unaffected by status or wealth.
She glanced up at Torrin, finding tears dripped from his eyes as well, though his jaw was set and his ears pinned as he resolutely walked forward.
“How?’ Sayna asked as she held tight to him, “Can you block them out?”
“I can’t.” He admitted. “But while I’ve never seen pain like this, I’ve seen things that came close.”
Sayna glanced back at Tynek, realizing that must be his saving grace as well. Though even his eyes were wet, and his paw shook on the hilt of his sword as he blinked hard.
“I am glad we did not bring Rose.”
Oh, Tynek was very right in that. Rose could not have dealt with this. And she shouldn’t have to. Sayna wished she didn’t have to.
“I think…” She said, voice trembling slightly, “That based on these memories, Tsarmina isn’t laying dead in her chambers. I think she escaped… like we first suspected.”
“I’m going to agree with that, milady.” Said Indigo, still dragging a dazed Tine.
He started to wake up once they got a short distance from the one hallway that was so haunted. Bodies lay in a corner every so often, usually with a shivering, faintly glowing memory nearby, but there wasn’t so high a concentration of them as in the one hall. 
Based on one of the cries Sayna had heard, she assumed that was at least near the healer’s quarters. 
Indigo led them along at a fast pace, and Sayna asked, “Where are we headed?”
“I know a thing or two about castles, Milady. All the important documents are at the back of the keep, where they’ll be most protected. An archive or office area for the monarch.”
As she said it, they rounded a corner and came to a piece of Kotir Sayna knew she’d never seen before. Arching pillars formed a stone doorway, into a large room with windows on the cliff-side of the castle, overlooking the city. And really, this room was the nicest she’d seen in awhile. At very least, she saw no ghosts or bodies here.
“Aha, see? It’s always the inner keep. We have gloves so it should be ok, but still. Try to find what you can while touching as little as you can.”
She blinked, seeming to realize who she was ordering around. “Er. If you approve that, my king and queen.”
Sayna took another moment, then straightened up, and Torrin let go of her for the first time since she’d let the memories draw her in. She gave him a smile of gratitude, before nodding and walking past Indigo, trying to keep her legs from shaking.
There was a desk set against the far wall, under one of the windows. A grand thing, all rich wood with elegant angles and ornamented shelves and drawers. There were a few long shreds down one side of it, like massive claws had slashed the piece of furniture in fury. Sayna reached it, and scowled at how high it stood. Her chin just came to the top of the desk, and this felt like trying to sneak glimpses of what lay on her father’s desk back when she was a kit.
Torrin walked over, smirked the tiniest bit, and stood on tip paw as he began rifling through parchments.
“Show off.” Sayna muttered, before beginning to dig through the drawer farthest down, a drawer large enough she could have crawled into it without much issue. Then again, she didn’t know what else she’d been expecting from cat’s furniture.
She found a lot of old, musty parchments, most of them seeming to be deeds of some kind. 
It took her a moment to realize what she was looking at, and then she nearly dropped the papers. These were slave deeds, detailing the creature sold, their branding, and what they were to be used for. And they were printed with an imposing seal of four eyes clustered into one, surrounded by spikes.
Sayna set the deeds, the records of lives, back in their drawer, before pushing it shut with her boot.
She quickly went through the other drawers, finding war plans, building permits, court cases of citizens, and decrees. All were sealed with that same imposing symbol. There were variations of the Greeneye symbol everywhere, but that one just seemed the fanciest. 
“Oh, I found something.” Torrin said, rocking off his tip paws and placing his heels back on the floor. Sayna looked up, and Tynek looked from where he guarded the door, flaming sword in paw.
He glanced warily into the hallway, before walking over, saying, “I would help. But I cannot read much… still.”
Sayna shrugged. “It’s fine.”
She turned to Torrin. “What is it?”
“Well I’m having a hard time reading her paw-writing… it’s terrible, but I think this might be our proof.”
Sayna stepped to his side to look over his arm, and winced. He was right about the terrible paw-writing. But from what Sayna could make of the paper, it was condemning Kotir as uninhabitable, and an order for all sick or suspected to be sick to be left behind.
“Does it say where she went?” Tynek asked.
Sayna shrugged, and Torrin shook his head. “Her advisors must hate reading her edicts.”
Sayna reached the bottom of the page, and noted the seal. A single eye this time, surrounded in airy, almost… pretty swirls. It looked nothing like the eye-cluster she’d been seeing before.
Maybe each of the Greeneyes had a symbol? Gingivere would know.
“Milords and lady, I think we found it.” Indigo called from across the room. Sayna looked to see them standing at a table as tall as she was. Tine was massaging the sides of his head and still seemed a little dazed, but Indigo waved them over. 
Torrin shrugged, and stuffed the paper into his pack, before walking over. Sayna followed, Tynek behind.
Sayna jumped onto a somewhat askew chair beside the table, knowing standing on the ground would be pointless. Maps were spread across the surface, and a part of one had been aggressively circled in brown ink.
Theas-Lidir. Whegg had been right, not that Sayna had doubted him much.
“Can we leave, then?” Tynek asked. He kept glancing at the hallways with the ghosts. This must really be rattling him more than he let on.
Indigo nodded. “Absolutely. We’ve got our proof and I want out of this Hell-pit… er. Excuse the language, milords and lady.”
Sayna shrugged and Torrin said, “No, I agree.”
“Tine, can you keep up?” Indigo asked. 
He just blankly nodded. Indigo sighed. “Right. Let’s go.”
She grabbed the map in question, rolling it up and tucking it beneath her arm as she strode back into the hallways. After they’d walked a short distance into the castle corridors, Sayna yelped as one of the flickery ghosts appeared a little ways down the hall. Lands Beyond, they were everywhere. This one took the form of a weeping kit, tugging on the arm of a fallen guard.
Both their bodies lay there, the memories phazing through them.
Sayna clamped her paws over her ears, trying to block out the sobs, but she heard them anyway. 
Tynek wouldn’t look at the corpses as he muttered, “I… do not think I want to live here. Even if we win.”
Sayna stared at him. She’d completely forgotten that detail… this vile pit of death and misery was her castle. Their castle. She grimaced, and nodded. “Me neither.”
“I’m not excited about it.” Torrin agreed. “In fact, I don’t want to live anywhere in this whole city.”
“I can’t blame you three.” Said Indigo as they passed the ghost kit and who was probably its father. Tynek clenched his paw on the hilt of the kingsword, and as he passed, they vanished, leaving their corpses in peace at last.
The clatter of paws from down the tunnel made Sayna tense, and place her paw on the hilt of her own sword. 
But it wasn’t a ghost who rounded the corner, it was Whegg, a frantic look in his eye. He looked about ready to collapse with relief when he saw them. “Oh thank fate. I need yer help… Bella… she ain’t alright. Warthorn ain’t either. Sandingomm’s with ‘em an’ she sent me fer help but I’m afraid she might succumb ta ‘em ta… Hellgates they’re entrancing ta me! Me, I ain’t even the spiritual sort!”
Sayna held out a paw. “Wait, slow down. What happened?”
Whegg wrung his paws. “Come with me. You’ll see… I ain’t never seen Bella like this.”
That didn’t sound good at all.
She followed Whegg without question, and she heard the others behind her. 
Whegg led them down passages that were starting to feel… very familiar. He stopped outside the throne room door. A pit of dread began forming in Sayna’s stomach. The memory of Sildrin was here. 
She rushed inside behind Whegg, and froze.
Because what she saw was wrong in so many ways it twisted her guts into tight knots and made her feel sick. 
She felt Torrin grab her arm, and saw his brown fur in the corner of her vision, but the sensations of reality fled in seconds. This memory was so much stronger than last time.
Sildrin brushed past her on his way to the dias, on his way to kill her grandfather. He was so real she even felt the brush of his sweeping cloak. He walked past tables of the feasting creatures, and Sayna heard the strains of music, mixing sickeningly with the new sounds of Kotir, the sounds of mourning.
The far past and the recent past had melded. 
While the creatures of Old Mossflower held their feast, oblivious to their impending doom, the creatures of New Kotir huddled beside their fallen corpses and pleaded for someone, anyone, to hear them. To help them. Laughter mixed with wails, with curses, and joy mixed with pain. 
Sayna clutched a paw against her chestplate, just trying to find herself in it all.
She was all of them, in this moment. She was their joy, the hope for a new king and a bright future. She was their pain, the pain of futures cut short as the cruelest master of all claimed their lives. She was Sildrin’s misery, she felt it, as he walked up the steps of the dias, knife in his sleeve… she held it in her own paw. 
And when he thrust it through her grandfather’s chest she felt the warmth of blood pour over her paw, despite the distance between her and the dias, and the gauntlets she wore.
Pain blossomed in her own chest as the wail of her grandmother joined the cries of newer times, and she staggered back.
Guilt, agony, betrayal, joyful oblivion, and it was all coalesced in a mess of pain that made fear claw at her mind and her vision turned slightly pink. She couldn’t breathe, she couldn’t move, even as she felt herself trip she could not thrust a paw out to steady herself. 
Paws caught her, the first real sensation she’d felt in awhile. Or were they real? What was real, anyway?
Ignasa. He was still real, wasn’t he?
“Help me!”
She pleaded. “Please, I can’t stay here!”
In a sucking, dragging rush, the sensations fled. Sayna gasped, feeling that someone was still holding her. She looked up to see it was Torrin, though his eyes were clenched shut, and he was muttering something… likely a prayer. Tynek had fallen to his paws and knees, arms shaking as tears fell from eyes Sayna doubted could see anything. His sword lay beside him, blade white, fire extinguished. 
Indigo leaned against the wall, clinging to it as she trembled. Tine lay curled on the floor beside her, eyes glazed over again. 
Sayna reached up and grabbed Torrin’s chainmaille sleeve, tugging on it, but he didn’t really respond. 
She blinked hard, before extracting herself from his grip, which took some effort. He still didn’t move. Sayna bit her lip and looked around the room, where the ghosts still played their histories. But now she saw who else was in there, really there. 
Bella was on her knees, sobbing. Her paws covered her face, her silver hair falling over them as her shoulders shook and tears dripped through them. 
Warthorn stood nearby, clinging to a floor-sconce like it was his last link to reality, and he too wept unashamedly. His harpoon lay on the ground beside him, and his knees shook as his glazed over eyes stared at the scene.
Sandingomm just stared blankly at it all, paws limp at her sides as she gaped. 
Sayna felt a jolt of fear and looked around to see Whegg’s fate. She found him kneeling nearby, paw clenched against the floor and teeth bared. He manged to look up at her and whisper, “We’ve… gotta… get out…”
Everything was so… sluggish. Sayna slowly forced herself upright, and started as a paw gripped hers. She looked down at Torrin, to find he was blinking hard. He still looked dazed, but he said, “The swords.”
The Queensword. Sayna nodded and pulled her paw free of his, before unsheathing her blade in an arch of blue fire. 
But the ghosts did not shy away this time. 
Sayna felt an itch of fear at that response. She ran at a table of party goers and slashed her blade through them. They flickered away, but as she stepped back, they reappeared like nothing had happened. 
Pink clouded Sayna’s vision. 
Not good, not good, what was wrong with these? They’d run from Tynek’s blade, hadn’t they?
Don’t panic. She told herself. Ignasa is still here, with me, with us.
A fragment of calm returned as she wracked her mind for what could possibly be different about these memories. She looked up at Sildrin, being held by a guard as he struggled and cried, “Cerdwin, run!”
A bang of slamming doors rang out, and Sayna wheeled around as soldiers poured through the doors and the room descended into cries of fear and pain as creatures were cut down left and right. Sildrin’s guard let go of him, rushing to the queen’s side instead and attempting to pry her away from Cadell’s body.
And Sildrin collapsed to his paws and knees, then the ground, as he curled into himself and wept.
Sayna forced her legs to move, forced herself to walk forward, though each step felt like she was forging through deep snow. When Tynek had stopped the smaller memories, they were the ones creating them, right?
And Sildrin was the cause of the chaos here. These were his memories.
She reached the ermine’s side amid the crash of falling tables, clash of steel on steel, and cries of dying creatures. He’d curled in a fetal position, arms wrapped around himself as he kept his eyes clenched shut. Sayna raised her sword, and he flickered slightly, the whole room did. But he didn’t vanish.
“You ruined so many lives.” Sayna said softly. “Yourself included.”
She gazed down at him, feeling his misery.
He had to, he thought. He had no choice. Verdauga would have killed them if he hadn’t, his siblings, his son. Just like his love, the one he’d wanted so much to call his wife. 
Sayna felt her tears fall from her lashes as she whispered, “I did that too.”
Part of her wanted to fall by his side and weep with him, for the time she wasted, the lives she took, the creatures she tried to abandon.
Sayna swallowed hard, raising her sword above her head. “I have been forgiven.”
And for the second time in her life, she slammed a blade through Sildrin’s torso. The Queensword smacked into the stones with a few flying sparks, and Sildrin flickered, then vanished. The rest of the memories glimmered for a few seconds, before fading away too. 
Sayna leaned on her blade, closing her eyes as she remembered the agonized whisper of a dying Sildrin Daskar as he begged her for forgiveness that wasn’t hers to give.
“I hope you found that too.”
She stayed liked that even as she heard the others stirring around her, as she silently wept for a fellow tortured soul; for a creature she found she had far more in common with than she ever would have dreamed.
“I hope you found peace.”
Boots rang out behind her, and someone knelt beside her, Torrin at last saying, “Thank you.”
Sayna just nodded, before taking a deep breath and opening her eyes.
A few memory ghosts remained, the ones from the Distemper victims. But all the memories of Old Mossflower had dispersed. 
She forced herself upright, and Torrin stood too as Sayna sheathed her sword.
The other creatures began to wake up, Whegg standing up, Sandingomm shaking herself, and Indigo struggling to pull a sluggishly responding Tine to his paws. Warthorn, Bella, and Tynek however, seemed to be much worse off.
Sayna walked to her brother’s side as Torrin and Whegg went to try and help the leaders.
She knelt beside Tynek, gently shaking him. “Come on Tynek, wake up. That was the past, it’s over, it’s done. It’s not reality.”
Tynek slowly pushed himself up until he could sit, though his brown, teary eyes still seemed a bit glassy. “But… that was what happened.”
He said it breathily. “That was my grandfather.”
“Yes.” Sayna said, trying to make him hold her gaze and stay focused. “It was.”
“I felt…” His voice choked out for a moment, before he whispered, “Everything. At once and… I cannot. I should not feel so much. Not so quickly. All sides… at once. All their thoughts, it…”
He stopped, and rubbed his bad arm. Sayna sighed. “I know. It’s overwhelming.”
“Worse.” He shook his head. “It is worse than that. I had never… even wanted to see Sidrin’s side of this.”
He clenched a paw, voice trembling. “I want to hate him!”
Sayna nodded. “But you don’t.”
“I want to.” Tynek choked out. “He took… everything from me. I want to be happy that he suffered.”
“But you can’t.” Sayna sighed. “It’s rotten isn’t it?”
Tynek bit his lip, tears still in his eyes, as he slowly nodded. 
In a sudden impulse, Sayna hugged him. He did nothing for a moment, before slowly hugging her back, and then clinging to her like he would never let go. They stayed like that a long time, as the others collected themselves. 
At last Tynek softly said, “I wish this had not happened. I wish we could have always been brother and sister,”
“We always were.” Sayna tightened her hug. “I was just too stupid to see it.”
She pulled back, meeting his gaze, which was starting to brighten. “Let’s get out of here.”
He nodded, and Sayna stood, helping him to his paws as she did. She glanced around, noting everyone else had the same idea. Warthorn seemed aware again as he and Sandingomm helped Bella to her paws. She still wept, but looked far more in touch with reality than she had been.
Indigo led them out, Whegg and Tine close beside her. Warthorn, Bella, and Sandingomm went next, while Sayna walked with Tynek and Torrin in the rear. 
As they left the throne room, Sayna glanced back. Would the memory of that horrible night return? She doubted she’d destroyed it for good. And yet she truly hoped she had. While they were not the souls of the dead, it still felt like they stirred up old agonies that should be laid to rest.
The cries of the dead Kotirians’ still rang in Sayna’s ears, but they seemed so much less dreadful, in the face of what had inhabited the throne room.
She still felt their sorrow and their draw, but ignoring them came far more easily.
When she walked out into the growing dimness of sunset, the breeze on her face made Sayna sigh in relief. And once her paw stepped across the threshold of the gates, the wails ceased completely. The stomping of horse hooves and quiet sounds of living voices were a welcome replacement.
Bella’s chestnut friend trotted up to her almost the moment she walked out, asking worriedly, “What happened?”
She just nearly collapsed against him, whispering, “I saw it all over again.”
The chestnut looked to Warthorn, who simply shook his head.
“There was some weird… ghost hallucinations in there.” Sandingomm explained. “They replayed the past or somethin’. Crazy unsettelin’... real nasty.”
Bella still looked dazed as she murmured, “I watched them die again.”
The chestnut laid his muzzle against her hair, after a moment of shock, and Sayna felt her stomach twist even more. Of course, Bella’s family. Germaine had said she’d lost them in this attack.
Dancer trotted up, saying, “You look like you’ve seen a ghost, Sayna, are you alright?”
Sayna rubbed at her eyes, nodding. “I did see a ghost… a lot, really. And I will be. Alright, that is.”
Torrin was glancing around, and he asked, “Did we leave Amber in the castle?”
“Oh, no.” Dancer shook her head. “She said she’d found something important and wanted to get someone… a scholar or something… to look at it. So she went back to our army outside.”
Dancer paused. “Come to think of it, she’s been gone a while. I thought she’d be back by now.”
Sayna wasn’t sure she felt too good about the sound of that. 
“When did she leave?” Tynek asked, sounding just as suspicious.
Dancer wrinkled her nose in thought, then said, “I’m not sure. I’ve been talking with Wildfire to keep my mind… off the surroundings.”
“We need to go anyway.” Sayna said as Dancer knelt for her, and she swung onto her friends back. Dancer straightened up, and Sayna noted everyone else was doing the same. It wasn’t long at all before they were moving down the hill, toward where, in the growing dusk, Sayna could just make out the bulk of their army.
They passed more bodies, but at least these didn’t have the illusion of movement. And when Dancer trotted past the final house on the outskirts, Sayna breathed a sigh of relief, realizing that while the smell was still terrible, she hadn’t been thinking about it.
Rose sat on Luna’s back at the head of the court of mice, and as Sayna approached, the two trotted forward. 
Rose looked worriedly at both Sayna and Tynek, and asked, “What happened?”
She must have noticed their tears. Tynek took a shuddering breath. “A lot. I want… to go home.”
He said it matter-of factly, honestly, exhaustion dragging at his tone.
Sayna nodded in agreement as she said, “Well, if Amber’s with her army, we can leave and regroup.”
Rose cocked her head. “Amber just took part of her army and went back into the city. She said you needed help.”
Rose paused, and frowned. “She didn’t say exactly what was wrong; I was about to come in after you myself, but… Sayna? What’s wrong?”
Sayna felt the tickle in the back of her mind, a mounting dread. She looked at Torrin. “That’s bad.”
He didn’t argue for a second. “We’ve got to find her.”
== Chapter 52 Fire and Fury ==
Sayna held tight to Dancer’s mane as she galloped the few feet between them, and Bella and Warthorn. Dancer slid to a neat stop just next to the little group, but Sayna didn’t dismount.
“Warthorn!” Sayna tried to keep her fear from showing. “Do you know what Amber is doing?”
He started, as though he’d completely forgotten the squirrelqueen, something Sayna wouldn’t be surprised by in the least. When he spoke, he sounded apprehensive. “Why? What happened?”
Torrin’s kelpie slid to a stop nearby as he said, “Well she lied to Rose.”
Dancer stamped a hoof. “She lied to me. She said she found some artifact in Kotir and was getting someone to look at it.”
Sayna nodded. “And she told Rose we were in trouble. She took half her army. Something tells me she’s not heading up to Kotir to help us escape a memory haunting.”
Since she was never with us in the first place. Sayna thought, a bit begrudgingly. Not that she ever expected much from Amber.
Warthorn tensed, and even Bella was wiping away tears to listen. Sandingomm and Whegg both began looking around nervously. Warthorn gritted his teeth. “What is she doing? This isn’t our plan. We’re supposed to regroup and assault Theas-Lidir!”
Sayna glanced at Tynek and Rose, mounted and standing with the court of mice.
Then she looked to Warthorn. “Rose said she went back into Kotir. You’ve known Amber longer than I, what could she be plotting?”
Warthorn paused in thought as Bella said grimly, “Nothing good.”
Torrin spoke from his place beside Sayna. “But what could she want in that city? We didn’t see a single living creature. It’s not like there’s anyone left to kill.”
At that moment, Sayna caught a glimpse of a flash of light in the near-night sky, and she craned her head back to look. She knew Argulor’s glowing plumidge well as he landed in a blank spot in their congregation, huffing. “Lads and lassies. That was rotten of you, truly, starting without me.”
Warthorn sounded tired. “They all died of Distemper, Argulor. We didn’t kill a single one.”
Twin rustling thuds filled the air as two shadows bristling with spikes landed on either side of Argulor, both staying just outside the glow he cast. Sayna recognized Yar and Yaz instantly, the dragon siblings looked just as unsettling as before, or even more so with the light Argulor cast glinting off their many quill-like spines.
Had Argulor always glowed like that?
He cocked his head. “Ah, I see. You still might have sent for me.”
Bella sighed. “We didn’t have anyone swift enough to reach you before you would have left Mossflower.”
“Ach. I suppose I forgive you.” Argulor sighed, before stretching a wing out at Kotir. “But did you really have to start lighting fires? Makes a lad feel unneeded.”
Sayna wheeled around on Dancer, and Dancer spun to look herself. Everyone close enough to hear Argulor did.
Bella snapped, “Where’s the fire?”
Sayna squinted at the city and sure enough, there was a glow coming from the other side of it, beginning to light the darkness. Dancer took several steps back, pinning her ears and whinnying. Sayna patted her shoulder, though she felt no better.
Why was it always fire?
“Not again!” Dancer sounded afraid. 
Argulor ruffled his glowy feathers, saying, “Well it’s started on the northeast side and it’s spreading… you mean to say this wasn’t your doing? Who’s behind it then?”
Sayna glanced at Torrin as they said in one accord, “Amber.”
Several other voices joined in.
“Curse her! We had the element of surprise, this is going to destroy it!” Warthorn snarled, and though his face wasn’t much more than a mass of shadows in the darkness, Sayna saw his features twist.
She shivered, staring at the growing blaze. Everything was so dry still, that could burn the city and move onto the grasslands. It could kill them all.
Warthorn’s kelpie came trotting up to him, and he mounted while the creature was still moving. They never stopped. Warthorn rode toward his army, calling, “To arms! We have to find Amber and stop her, she’s lost whatever shred of sanity she had left!”
Sayna looked to Torrin, and he nodded. She raised her gauntlet, looking back at her army, not far behind. “To arms!”
She wasn’t sure exactly what they were going to do, but Warthorn seemed to have a plan.
Rose and Luna trotted up, Rose asking, “What’s going on? Who are we fighting?”
“Amber!” Sayna blurted. “Well… we’re trying to stop her anyway.”
Torrin glanced at their shuffling army, asking, “Should we send them back to our other hundred? That way they’d be out of the fire’s possible range… I hope.”
Sayna found herself nodding, and looking around for Indigo. The rabbit was nearby, for once, actually seeming a little stunned. 
“Indigo!” Sayna yelled, waving at her. “Bring… uh…”
What was a good number? Sayna yelled an arbitrary one. “Our best thirty! Send the rest back to our hundred and warn them all to be on alert for a… possibly large fire headed at them!”
Indigo snapped into action in the instant. Her horse wheeled around and she galloped for the army, relaying orders. 
Bella stared at Kotir, fire on it’s far side becoming quickly visible as it licked at the dry old wood of buildings. “She’s gone fully mad. I knew she was getting worse but… this…”
“You know lassie.” Said Argulor. “I’m not sure why you’re surprised.”
“I’m not sure either.” Bella shook her head. 
The chestnut horse with her nuzzled her shoulder. “We should move.”
Bella dazedly nodded and swung onto his back with little difficulty. Sayna noticed Yar and Yaz backing up from the light of the growing blaze. Yaz hissed accusingly at Argulor. “Youu neever zaaid aanything aabout fire.”
“Well lassie I didn’t know about the fire!” Argulor snapped.
Yaz just hissed, but Yar moved a little closer to the phoenix. “We will taake oour draagonz aand find her.”
She darted off without asking, and Yaz followed her, twin silent shadows streaking through the prairie’s tall grass. Argulor sighed, shaking his head at Sayna and Torrin. “Apparently the lassies are as moody as usual. But if any can find the mad squirrel, it’s them.”
Sayna really found herself agreeing with Yar and Yaz. She wanted nothing to do with more fire either. The skin of her neck and face itched subtly, like they had when she’d been so badly burnt, even if the scars were gone.
“Sayna.” 
Torrin reached out, clawtips just brushing her shoulder. “It’s alright.”
“I’m not panicking.”
Her own voice was like a splash of cold water to the face, with how panicked it was. This was worse than she’d thought. 
Torrin shook his head. “Your eyes.”
Oh… Sayna tried to think of a fitting expression, but came up empty. There was nothing. Just the creeping snakes of Bloodwrath, swirling through her mind, fed by her fear. She looked at Torrin, brushing a paw against the fur of her cheek where the burns were. “I can’t do this.”
“Me neither!” Dancer said, stepping backwards.
“Sayna!” 
Sayna started, and looked at Rose. In the growing firelight of the city, her sister’s green eyes seemed to glow. “It’s going to be alright.”
Luna was nodding, and Sayna just blinked at Rose for a moment, and felt Bloodwrath recede slightly.
If Rose was bold enough to face this, then she could too… right?
Ignasa…
Sayna forced herself to breathe, and forced herself to look back at the city. It was a full blaze now, a roaring, hungry thing that burnt away buildings like they were made of twigs. 
“Argulor!” Bella called above the growing chaos. “Can you take control of it?”
He puffed out his chest. “A little blaze like that? Lassie, that is a snack, not a meal. But you know it’s going to get bigger if I join it.”
“We have to stop it before it hits the grasses!” Bella said, voice tense.
Argulor nodded, spreading his wings. “Very well.”
He swooped upwards in a gleaming arch, and Sayna watched in stunned awe as he hovered above them for a moment, then dove for the edge of the burning Kotir.
He never hit the ground.
His feathers burst into flames, each one like a candle. Together they formed a blaze that crashed into the buildings on the outskirts of Kotir and in a roar, the flames leaping in both directions and beginning to form a ring.
Torrin stared, then asked, “Did Argulor die?”
“He’s fine.” Bella sighed. “He’s in his element.”
She paused. “Literally. Come, Warthorn took his troops right, so we’ll go left. Don’t worry about the fire, Argulor has it under control.”
Don’t worry about the fire. 
Sayna grimaced. That was easier said than done. But Bella and her chestnut galloped off, and after a moment’s pause, Dancer chased her. Sayna heard the thunder of hooves behind her, rising above the fire’s roar.
 
She leaned over Dancer’s mane as her friend swiftly passed Bella’s larger and less swift mount. Sayna flicked an ear to the side as she heard hooves falling out of rhythm with Dancer’s, and yet nearby. She turned her head to see Torrin as his kelpie ran beside Dancer with ease, river-weed tail streaking out behind it. Of course, she’d completely overlooked how fast riding a kelpie was.
Sayna almost heard a faint yell behind her, but with the growing roar of Kotir, she couldn’t say. 
She felt the heat of the blaze on her fur, subtle, but there. And she clenched her eyes shut and pleaded with Ignasa to hold Bloodwrath at bay.
I am too weak.
That warmth. In her head it burned her, even if she understood it was not yet so dangerous or damaging. 
She glanced at Torrin, riding beside her, curls even wilder thanks to wind resistance. His jaw was clenched, and he stared resolutely ahead, refusing to even look at the fire. Dancer’s ears were pinned tight to her head as she streaked along, burnt-off bob of a tail flapping rapidly behind her. 
This felt eerily similar to the aftermath of the festival. At least the fire burned beside them, and a considerable distance away, instead of licking at Dancer’s hooves.
Sayna looked ahead as they spun around a few non-flaming shacks on the outskirts. Warthorn and his kelpie charged them, his followers not far behind.
Warthorn’s kelpie reared, while his army and their mounts slid to a stop. Dancer slid as she dug her hooves into the dusty ground, flinging chunks of rock-like mud from her hooves. Torrin and his kelpie did the same. The otterking stared at them, and he was forced to yell to be heard above the crackling woosh that had once been Kotir. “Tell me you found her!”
Sayna just wordlessly shook her head as the creatures who’d been following her came to rushed stops as they rounded the cluster of buildings. 
Luna skidded to a halt in a flash of white as Rose just kept herself from being thrown, and Wildfire reared as Tynek clung to him as best he could with just one arm. Dancer turned to face the crescendo of fire desentagrating the city, and Sayna swallowed hard, feeling the heat far more now.
And almost as one, the rest of Mossflower did too.
If her hair had been loose and short like before, Sayna knew it would be flying around her face from the blaze’s intense updraft. 
But it wasn’t spreading past the outskirts, or catching onto the grasslands. Instead it rose like a pillar, turning the night radiant gold and casting shadows dark as pitch. Dancer backed away slowly and Sayna couldn’t look away as the fire leapt higher, and even higher, like a well-fed campfire, just massive.
Then it drew up, pulling away from Kotir toward a point in the sky far above the city.
And before she could think to close her eyes, it sucked together in mere seconds, growing brighter than any mere fire ever could. 
Sayna threw her paw up and clenched her eyes shut, the backs of her eyelids painted with the distinct afterimage of a bird. 
She heard the pained cries around her, and blinked her eyes hard. Oddly, she didn’t feel the pain in her eyes that she probably should after they were so violently accosted with light. She held tight to Dancer as her friend stumbled back with a sharp cry, before bowing her head and rubbing her face against the inside of her foreleg.
Sayna took a deep breath, blinking hard, the afterimage of the fiery bird shape still painted across her vision. What she could see outside of that was pure black.
However, her sight returned in a matter of moments. The first thing she saw in the wake of the fading afterimage, was the red glow of coals.
Where it not for her metal gauntlets, she would have rubbed her eyes, but as it was she found she really didn’t need to. The smoldering structures of Kotir lit the blackness of night with faint red light… what was left of them, anyway. As she watched, the skeleton beams of a house collapsed with a cracking, sending up a shower of sparks. 
Dancer still rubbed her face on the inside of her foreleg, alternating from left to right. Sayna leaned down. “Are you alright?”
“What do you think, I’m blind!” Dancer wailed. “And it hurts!”
Sayna looked around, seeing nearly everyone had been affected the same way. Except Luna, she stood with her head cocked in confusion, completely unphased, while Rose was doubled over on her back, paws clenched to her face.
Sayna winced, patting Dancer’s neck. “I don’t think you’re actually blind.”
“Well how come you recovered so quickly?’ Dancer groaned.
“I…” Sayna paused, and realized she had no answer for that. “Don’t actually know.”
Torrin held a paw over his eyes like everyone else… even Bella had her eyes clenched shut.
Amid the crashes of a fully collapsing Kotir and the glow of angry red embers, Sayna looked up at the light beginning to shine from above, almost like the sun had somehow returned.
Argulor swooped gently down, landing in front of the embers of Kotir. He folded gleaming wings to his sides, and Sayna was sure the swirls of orange and red on his golden plumidge glowed now. In fact he just glowed in general, pulsating light flowing beneath his feathers, and his once golden eyes might as well be fires themselves.
He strutted toward them, and Sayna knew he was bigger. Considerably so. He towered over Bella and her horse, and the only other creature Sayna could think to compare him to was Pyralis.
Argulor coughed, a ring of black smoke coming from his beak. He looked at Bella, before saying, “Ahem. My eyes might have been a bit overambitious lassie, I take back calling that a snack. It was more a four course meal with desert.”
“Argulor, I’m still mostly blind.” Bella said, sounding droll.
Warthorn nodded, shielding his eyes. “And did you have to be so dramatic?”
Argulor looked offended. “Dramatic? Laddie, that’s called style.”
“It’s also called a signal flare for all of the Greeneye’s kingdom.” Warthorn did not sound impressed. “Did you consider that?”
Argulor blinked, and said nothing.
Sayna saw Warthorn’s point. That had ruined any element of surprise they might have hoped for. Argulor sighed. “Ach, I see your point. But to be fair, I didn’t start the fire. I just coralled it… it could be worse.”
“It could be.” Bella sighed. “I suppose now we just need to find where Amber is hiding. She’s going to be severely reprimanded for this.”
“Lassie?” Argulor said as he stared over Sayna’s head, at something behind her on the open grasslands. 
“I don’t think she’s hiding.”
Sayna jerked her head around. 
And saw more fire, lighting the horizon.
Warthorn must have regained at least most of his vision, because he summed everything up pretty well. “Seven realms. Curse that squirrel!”
Sayna had to agree. She stared at the fireglow on the horizon, something that she somehow felt was not an isolated blaze. In fact, she was pretty sure it was several of them.
Whegg’s roan stumbled past Sayna, as he called, “There are small villages that way, leadin’ ta Theas-Lidir!”
Sayna felt her stomach drop as Sandingomm spoke from the chaos. Sayna wasn’t certain where she was, but recognized her voice. “She’s burnin’ civilains… those aren’t garrisons, is they Whegg?”
He shook his head. “Nah, not that way they ain’t.”
Sayna gripped Dancer’s mane as her friend finally lifted her head. This was senseless, needless killing because Amber was angry she didn’t have Tsarmina’s blood to claim. And it did them no good.
Torrin looked at her, shaking his head. “If the Greeneyes didn’t know about us before, they do now.”
Sayna gritted her teeth. “We have to stop her.”
And yet, to take their armies deeper into Greeneye land? Somewhere, in the back of her head, was the selfish whisper to leave Amber to her own devices and retreat. These creatures were not, ultimately her concern.
But she couldn’t help but see the tears of the ghosts in the castle, hear their sobs, and feel their pain as they died slowly, cruelly, all alone.
I am not their queen.
And yet her mind answered itself, like it often did.
But their queen has abandoned them.
And beyond that, Amber had led Mossflowerian’s on this suicide mission. True, they probably were picked specially by her and likely shared her views. And yet Sayna felt a flicker of responsibility toward them, an itch in her mind, prompting her to act.
This was the problem with caring, she couldn’t always pick and choose her feelings based on logic alone.
Warthorn and his kelpie walked up, Warthorn twirling his harpoon. “She’s going to pay for this. She’s ruining everything!”
He motioned to his battalion, yelling, “After the mad squirrel! She’s to be taken alive, I want her to stand in account for this!”
The otters mobilized in seconds, and their kelpie’s hooves pounded against the prairie as they rushed across the ground in a multicolored wave, armor glinting even in the dimness of night.
Bella sighed, but she and her mount chased after them a second later. 
Sayna glanced back at Torrin, Tynek, and Rose, to find they were all nodding. She lifted a gauntlet that gleamed in the starlight. “If you find Amber, capture her alive. We ride forth!”
Dancer galloped after Warthorn and Bella, and Sayna looked behind her as Argulor leapt into the sky, sparks flying from his wings as he pumped them, soaring upwards. His tail feathers were longer than ever, and they swirled after him in elegant arches.
Sayna moved with Dancer’s gait as her friend flew across the grasslands, toward the fires.
Torrin and his kelpie kept up easily, and they rushed past Bella again. Argulor swept past them all, streaking straight toward the fire; what Sayna was beginning to see was a burning village. 
He joined the flames like he had the ones in Kotir, though this time, as Dancer neared the blaze, it began to draw itself up. 
“Close your eyes!” Sayna yelled, and held on as Dancer slid to a stop. 
Sayna followed her own advice, though she saw the brilliant flash even through her eyelids. Still, when she blinked her eyes open, there was no afterimage.
Argulor already flew toward the next fire, one that looked larger.
Dancer shook herself, then snorted and bolted forward again. After a moment, Torrin and his kelpie did too. Sayna glanced behind to see at least Bella, and she caught a glimpse of Sandingomm on her black horse. Some of the army were staggering around, semi-blinded. The ones near the front at least seemed to have heard Sayna’s order.
Warthorn’s kelpie kept running, and so did one other, but the bulk of his army were not so lucky. They staggered, yelled, and cursed as Dancer flew past them.
They must not be used to Argulor doing this. Not that she’d ever seen him use this power, so maybe he refrained from it. She had to wonder what it might do to him.
Dancer galloped past the smoldering ruins of what had once been a town, and Sayna stared into it. There wasn’t much left, a few blackened walls and piles of smoldering embers. Sayna couldn’t see any bodies, but with this level of destruction, she didn’t really expect too.
Argulor joined the next fire, and this one, he didn’t draw into himself instantly. 
In fact, Dancer galloped past before he did. Sayna looked over her shoulder, noting that this fire was bigger, and currently crackled away at the town merrily. Argulor likened his fire abilities to eating… so could he get full?
And also he ate fire. He actually ate it. 
So much for the rumors that he ate vermin.
She looked back ahead of herself as she saw lights in the distance, though not fire this time. Candle-light, of a still standing town.
Amber would be there.
“Torrin!” She called to him as their mounts ran abreast, just feet apart. “That’s where she’ll be, should we wait for the others?”
“How many did she take with her?” He called back.
Sayna shrugged. “I don’t know.”
He nodded and said something to his kelpie, who slowed to a trot, then stopped. Dancer did the same, looping around and trotting back. Torrin glanced back at the others, stretched out across the plains in order of which equines were fastest. 
Torrin looked behind her, and Sayna turned, to see Warthorn and Spring trotting up. Warthorn still wore a distinctly disgusted expression. 
“She’s violated the treaty, spit on all of us!” Warthorn snarled.
“We know, dad.” Spring said from a little behind him. “It’s going to be alright.”
She didn’t sound like she completely believed that.
“You’re waiting for reinforcements too?” Sayna asked.
“I don’t plan on getting shot tonight.” Warthorn growled.
That was a fair point. Hooves rang out as Sandingomm, Whegg, Tynek, and Rose all caught up at once. Indigo and several others did seconds later. A skittering swish made Sayna jump, and Dancer too. She looked down to see one of the dark dragons stop just beside her. 
“If he woould ztop making paainful, blinding flazhez…” Yar glared at the burning town behind them. “We woould have gotten here faazter. It iz hard to run wheen I haave to hide every few minutez.”
The dragon flicked her serpentine tongue, before rushing off in the direction of the town.
Bella and her chestnut came thundering up, the poor horse gasping. He put his head down as Bella patted his neck, then slid from his back. “Thank you.”
“I… forget my age… until moments like this.” 
Bella sighed, and turned to the town. “Are we ready?”
Warthorn looked around. “I think we have enough.”
Bella held out her paw. “Let’s ring her in.”
In a faint flash light, a water-sword appeared in Bella’s paw, one longer then Sayna was tall. More creatures from the army were catching up, and Bella called, “Surround the village. Amber’s done enough for one night.”
Sayna looked at her fellow marks, and Tynek started forward, Wildfire trotting toward the town. Sayna followed, Torrin and Rose just behind.
As they neared, Sayna began seeing movement between the buildings. And the coppery scent of blood hit her nostrils. A sharp cry of pain split the night, accompanied with what could be softer crying and barked orders.
The clatter of hooves made Sayna look up, to see Sandingomm and her black horse charging for the town, Whegg close behind.
Tynek blinked, while Rose yelled, “Wait, don’t!”
They didn’t listen. Sayna clenched her paws. “Sandingomm!”
The cat didn’t stop. A blinding flash came from behind them, from the fire Argulor had taken control of. It made their shadows streak across the ground in inky stains, and gave Sayna a clear view through the cluster of buildings. 
She was in time to see what looked like Amber slash the head off a kneeling creature.
“I was promised blood!”
Sayna could hear Amber’s snarl, see the fury in her maddened eyes as she said it. She had been promised blood. 
And blood was what she would have. One way or another.
Sayna leaned down, meeting Dancer’s gaze. “We have to stop her. Now.”
Dancer nodded once, and they bolted after Sandingomm and Whegg, ignoring the cries of protest from behind. 
Sayna drew the Queensword in an arch of blue light.
She was growing the slightest bit accustomed to those brilliant, heatless flames.
Hoof-beats chased her, and though she didn’t turn to look at who it was, she smiled. It was nice to not face this alone.
Sandingomm’s horse ran slower than Dancer, nearly everyone did. Sayna was getting close as the cat charged straight into the tiny village, and was in time to see her launch into a flying leap off her horse’s back. 
She landed nearly on top of what looked to be a kit, almost on all fours, and thrust a paw out just as Amber brought a red-streaked blade down.
Blue light flashed, forming the ghost of a sheild; the faintest outline. 
It shattered when Amber’s sword hit it, but also deflected the blade, something that spun from the squirrelqueen’s grasp and buried itself into the wall of a house.
Dancer skidded to a stop, and for a moment, all movement ceased.
Sayna had enough time to take in the sorry scene, as poorly lit as it was. She could hear the thin sobbing of a kit, though she didn’t know where it was. Some of the citizens of this town already lay dead, run through or beheaded like criminals were executed. The others huddled together in the center of the town, surrounded by Amber’s squirrels. 
Though there weren’t just squirrels. There were a few mice here too. Sayna even saw some otters.
How could they think this was right?
“Ya would kill infants?”
Sandingomm’s voice was nearly a roar, and Sayna couldn’t blame her. 
She spun back to face the cat and the squirrel as a creak filled the air, and Sayna was in time to see Amber draw her bowstring to her cheek, arrow level with Sandingomm’s forehead. 
“I would kill scum. And you are scum.”
The rage in Sayna’s mind turned to cold fear, and she wasn’t even sure why.
She threw herself from Dancer’s back, Queensword hilt clasped tightly in her paw. 
Maybe it was due to the fact she could clearly remember a time when Amber pointed an arrow at her own forehead, while she sat in a half-frozen stupor, unable to defend herself.
Her boot slammed against the ground, sending her catapulting forward far faster than any mortal being could.
Maybe she actually cared about Sandingomm. She’d been caring about a lot of creatures lately.
She raised the Queensword in a flaming arch.
Amber spun around.
A shock ran through Sayna’s neck, right at the base near the collarbone.
She staggered back from the force of it, only just managing to catch herself. She glared at Amber, who stared back in actual shock, and even fear.
Indignation flowed through Sayna’s veins, because that was low. Even for Amber.
“You punched me in the throat? What kind of dirty move is that?” Sayna yelled.
Or… that’s what she would have yelled. That’s what she tried to yell. But all that came from her mouth was a gurgle.
Amber took a step back. 
And that’s when Sayna noticed her bow was empty. 
It was also the moment Rose shrieked. 
Boots pounded on the ground behind her, and Torrin slid to a stop beside her, eyes wide with pure horror. He turned on Amber, snarling, “What have you done?”
Amber just pointed a shaking paw at Sayna, and stammered, “How… is she still standing?”
Torrin looked like he wanted to murder Amber… which admitedly, would have been interesting… but he didn’t have to. 
Warthorn bolted up, and in a flash of dark fur, smashed a right hook into the side of Amber’s jaw. The squirrel flew back three paces, landed in a heap, and didn’t rise. Sayna smirked at that, though for some reason, the muscles in her jaw felt unusually tight.
Torrin had turned back to her, and gently placed an arm around her, as though to hold her up. “Sayna? Are you… I mean…”
He stammered, fear lacing his tone, confusion masking that. 
“What?” She asked.
And again, there was nothing but a gurgle.
Sayna reached a paw to her throat, and froze as her gauntlet clacked against something thin and wooden. And this time, when she looked down, she could see the fletching of the arrow embedded in her neck. 
She looked at Torrin with wide eyes, mouthing, “Is it bad?”
That was likely a stupid question. Of course it was bad, there was an arrow in her throat! Come to think of it, her breath rattled a lot. 
“Sayna… I think you should sit down.” Torrin said, voice shaking. He was keeping his composure fairly well, considering.
Oddly, she didn’t feel much pain. Or… well, any pain, actually. Just a growing sensation of wrongness as she began to fully feel the shaft running through her neck. It was… mildly uncomfortable, like wearing stiff clothing or a too-tight hat. 
Rose rushed up, tears in her eyes. “Salley, please! You can’t die, you said you wouldn’t! Remember!”
Right. This wound should be fatal. But she didn’t really feel like she was dying. She’d done that before, and this wasn’t anywhere near as cold, as sluggish and muddled. Sayna patted Rose on the paw, before raising an eyebrow, and looking at Torrin as she pointed to the arrow in her throat. 
“Does it go all the way through?” She mouthed, voice still nothing but a hideously wet gurgle.
“What?” Torrin asked, dazedly, before nodding. “Yes it does… Sayna… what’s happening?”
Sayna rolled her eyes. Like she knew. 
What she did know was that she wanted this arrow out of her neck. It was starting to itch. 
She’d drawn a crowd now, all gaping or muttering to themselves. She made a chopping motion with her paws, then pointed at the arrow, mouthing, “Cut it off. Cut the tip off.”
Torrin shook his head. “No, we need to get you to Germaine and…” 
Sayna held up a paw, and glared at him. Did he honestly think she would ride all the way back to Brockhall with an arrow in her throat? Besides, now creatures were staring at her, and she hated it when creatures stared at her.
There was the swish of a sword being drawn, and though she couldn’t turn her head, Sayna saw Tynek holding the Kingsword, paw trembling slightly. He carefully brought it up, and Sayna felt the first bit of pain as shaving the tip from the arrow made the shaft wiggle.
The surroundings were so quiet Sayna heard the arrowhead hit the ground. 
She reached up and grabbed the shaft. 
Torrin shook his head. “Sayna, don’t…”
“Trust me.” She mouthed. She clearly wasn’t dead yet.
She braced herself, and yanked the arrow free, straight out. 
Pain rushed through her neck and a little blackness clouded her vision, but both lasted mere seconds. Torrin grabbed her in the moment she staggered, which, while a kind sentiment, was a bit unnecessary.
She righted herself quickly, before clearing her throat in a wet, gargling rush. 
Sayna spat blood on the ground, before turning to a wide-eyed Tynek and saying, “Thank you.”
This time her voice worked.
He just nodded.
Rose had her paws over her mouth, and she was crying. Sayna gave her a reassuring smile, probably ruined by the blood running from her chin. “I’m fine.”
Her voice was rapidly growing less hoarse. 
Rose threw her paws around Sayna, hugging her from the right. Moments later, Torrin hugged her from the left. Sayna sighed, but wrapped a paw around each of them, because it was kind of nice. Even if a bit overdramatic.
Sandingomm stood in shocked wonder, gaping at Sayna. Sayna smirked at the cat. “I guess I am pretty indestructible.”
“Uh…” Sandingomm nodded. “ Ya sure are.”
Warthorn still stared at Sayna, and finally, he spat at Amber’s incherent form. “Curse that squirrel! She’d try to murder a queen… nay, two queens?”
“I’m fine.” Sayna said. 
Torrin pulled back enough to glare at Amber, who’d yet to stir. “That doesn't matter. What she did would have killed anyone else.”
He looked to Sayna. “And… I’m not sure how you’re alive.”
Sayna shrugged. “I… guess it must have to do with the coming back to life. Maybe Germaine really did overdose me, like she said.”
Rose tightened her hug for a moment, mumbling into her side, “We’re going to ask.”
Sayna just nodded. She tried to banish he rushing, confused thoughts on her own well-being, forcing herself to look around instead. Everyone was staring at her, including Amber’s disenters. They still had the townsfolk of this place at swordpoint.
Sayna picked the Queensword up from where she’d dropped it… funny, she didn’t remember doing that… and Torrin and Rose stepped back as blue fire swept down the blade.
Sayna walked foreward, before holding out her flaming sword. “Let them go.”
Amber’s followers scattered. Many dropped their weapons, and the ones that didn’t fled into the night.
The townsfolk themselves shied away from Sayna, but none ran. She sheathed her sword, looking at their dimly lit forms as the fireglow vanished. They stared at her with mostly terror, and a little bit of hope. 
Sayna could see a mother clutching her infant kit, a male kneeling protectively over them both. There were many like that, as well as a few elderly.
“Amber has no shame.” Sayna spat out the words, before looking to the citizens. “Not all of us are like her. We will not kill you.”
As she turned away, one of them spoke. “Even if some of us are ill?”
Sayna turned back, meeting the gaze of the male she’d noticed before, a weasel. She took a closer look at the mother of what was likely his kit, noticing her sunken eyes and shivering.
So Distemper had spread.
Again, Sayna shook her head. “We will not kill you.”
Though she didn’t like their chances. Sandingomm moved nearby, and Sayna noticed her lifting the kit Amber had been going to kill onto its paws. The cat straightened up. “If ya come with me, we may be able ta help ya.”
“And who are you?” The male weasel asked, a little challengingly.
“Sandingomm Keir.” She lifted her chin. “Queen a the court a vermin in Mossflower. I won’t force ya ta come with me. But their ain’t much hope fer ya here. I don’t see Tsarmina sendin’ no army ta save ya.”
The shivering female tugged on her mate’s sleeve, whispering something to him. Sayna couldn’t quite make it out, but it sounded like she was pleading.
The weasel looked toward the kit Sandingomm had saved, now clinging to her leg.
“I don’t know of you, or your kingdom.” He stood, pulling the female with him. “But you are more honorable than the one I’ve called queen, and if you can help my wife, I will follow you to Hellgates if I must.”
Several others stood then, pledging their loyalty to Sandingomm. 
Sayna at last turned away as Warthorn looked at his daughter, while pointing at Amber. “Spring, tie her up.”
He looked around, meeting Sayna’s gaze. “We must get out of here.”
Sayna looked around, to find most of her companions, including Dancer, were still staring at her. She sighed, yelling, “I’m fine!”
“Yeah, I can see that.” Dancer said, still looking stunned. “The question is how?”
“We don’t have time to worry about that.” Sayna said. “We need to gather our armies and cross the Moss again. Tsarmina knows we’re here. She could attack and cut us off. We fall back to what we can still defend.”
For how long, though?
Sayna shoved those unhelpful thoughts away, and hurried to Dancer’s side. Dazedly, her friend let her swing onto her back. Argulor arrived soon after, landing heavily and rustling brilliant feathers. 
He looked around for a moment, noting Spring tossing a bound, unconscious Amber onto her white kelpie’s back. 
“Ach, I say. What did I miss? It seems like it was worth seeing.”
Bella shook herself from what seemed to be a state of shock, though she still looked a bit glassy-eyed. She’d had a long day, hadn’t she? With the ghosts, and the fires, and the Sayna being shot in the throat… Sayna shook her head. She couldn’t think about that now. She shoved it into her mind-closet, already full to bursting, and promised herself that she’d ponder it later.
Later, when the less indestructible creatures around her were protected.
“Bella.” She said, making the lady start. “Let’s ignore what just happened until we get to Brockhall. We must retreat.”
A little life sparkled in Bella’s eyes again, and she nodded, before beginning to call out orders. 
Sayna found it more than odd to be in the place of the responsible adult.
You are becoming. 
Ignasa’s words to her came to mind, and she smiled, because she wanted to become. To become what he had always meant her to be.
The creatures assembled themselves, citizens of the town, the otter armies, and even Amber’s defectors, though Warthorn’s creatures kept them hemmed in. Sayna raised a paw, and her thirty soldiers fell in behind her. 
Not dying was an unreasonable confidence booster.
She should be fearful of Tsarmina’s retaliation, but she wasn’t half so concerned as was warranted. She felt like she could face an army alone.
Which… might not be so unfeasible.
Could she? Could she fight for all of them, and no longer be forced to watch creatures die?
Sayna shook her head, as Dancer walked away from the town, head down, probably contemplating everything. 
No. 
Even she could not face fifty thousand alone. Or… however many Tsarmina actually had now.
There had to be a limit to what her immortality could do. Even Ignasa had said he’d died, and if he’d died, Sayna was fairly certain she could too.
The trek back across the prairie was just as monantantous as the journey here had been. 
Had that really only happened this morning? It felt like days had passed. 
She glanced around at her companions, noting most rode with drooping shoulders and Rose looked like she was falling asleep sitting up.
Sayna blinked. She… wasn’t tired. Not really. She could sleep, or she could stay awake. Either was fine, but everyone else looked about to fall over. She frowned. She had ridden for hours, worn armor all day, used Bloodwrath in small fragments, dealt with memory ghosts, and been shot in the throat. 
Ignoring the fact she should be dead, she should at least be exhausted. 
Dancer’s hooved dragged a bit, and Sayna leaned down. “Are you tired? Should I walk?”
Dancer gave her a look, from the corner of her eye. “Walk? You were shot. In the neck. You must be far more tired than me.”
Without another word, Sayna jumped from her friend's back, not bothering to ask her to stop. She laid a gauntlet on Dancer’s neck, saying, “You’d be surprised.”
They continued like that, through grass that came to Sayna’s chest. Dancer snorted, craning her long neck to meet Sayna’s gaze. “You aren’t?”
“Not… really.” Sayna said. “I might be once we finally get home.”
“Sayna…” Dancer hesitated. “Are you even… mortal anymore?”
That was a very good question, and once Sayna had been trying to ignore until she could talk to Germaine. “Um. I’m not sure.”
She kept that behind her mental wall, and quickly changed the subject. “So. What do you think will become of Amber?”
“I don’t know.” Dancer just sounded tired. “You’ve read the laws, not me.”
That was fair. They fell silent, as Sayna contemplated that. And she remembered Gruvan’s father. Would… that really be Amber’s fate? Yes, perhaps she deserved it. In fact, from all Sayna had gleaned, it would be justice. But Sayna found herself growing tired of death. 
But death led to death.
And Amber had thrived upon the deaths of others as long as Sayna had known her.
They rejoined the armies in the thickets east of Kotir, something that was a smoldering heap of ashes. Only the castle still stood, and that blackened by flames.
Groddil walked out to meet them, as he’d been watching the court of mice, apparently. 
“What happened?”
No one answered. So Sayna sighed. “We’ll tell you later. For now… we return to Brockhall and regroup for the coming battle.”
There were groans from the army, who’d spent most of their day walking or just waiting, standing around. Sayna shook her head, saying, “I’m sorry today wasn’t more productive. But you followed orders well. We are doing what we can.”
It was all she could offer them, and it wasn’t much. Rose would have something better to say, but she lay on Luna’s back, fast asleep. Torrin and Tynek looked like they were only just keeping their eyes open. Groddil narrowed his eyes for a moment, and Sayna wondered if he’d press the subject. But thankfully, he didn’t. 
He helped get everyone moving toward the Moss, something Sayna found herself indebted to him for.
It was a sorry group that waded through the river’s fjords, what felt like hours later.
They’d left to be conquerors or martyrs, and were neither. Not dancing in celebration of freedom or mourning their losses as they retreated in defeat. Just exhaustion and discouragement, because there was nothing. No gain, no loss… just emptiness.
The feeling of defeat, even if it was false. 
And a shiver of dread for the future.
Sayna looked back at the prairie, dark, endless, and somewhere in its vastness, an army large enough to destroy them all in a single attack.
And she did shudder, because they’d had one shot.
And they’d missed.
== Chapter 53 Becoming ==
Sayna lay in her glowing bath in Brockhall, feeling the water soak through her hair. She didn’t move. She just let the golden mass settle on the bottom of her stone tub, and stared at the ceiling as she floated there, weightless.
Everyone else would be sleeping. Bella had demanded baths be had, and Sayna imagined after that, nearly all of Mossflower had gone to bed.
But she wasn’t tired. 
She’d lain here for what was probably hours, her only source of light the water of her bath. 
Thoughts wanted to come, tried to force her to chase them on tangents of fear and attempted to show her a thousand different terrible futures. But she banished them, and she lay there, floating. Alone, but not alone.
For a few hours, she was. She existed, and that was enough.
Eventually, she rose from her bath, hair a heavy weight that tried to drag her back down and loosed cascades of water in sloshing rain. 
She wrung it out, once free of the basin. She attempted to use a towel on it, but no towel was large enough. Maybe she should ask Bella for one of hers, surely that would do the trick. Sayna stretched, yawned, and walked from her washroom at last. She slid into a long nightshirt, and climbed into her curtained bed. She snuggled down, and decided to close her eyes for awhile.
She actually fell asleep, because the next time she opened her eyes, Sayna realized someone was knocking on her door.
She sat up, ears pricking forward. “Who is it?”
“Germaine, dear.” The infirmary keeper’s distinctive voice came from outside. “I would very much like to speak with you about last night, if it isn’t much trouble.”
Sayna looked down at her nightclothes, and said, “One minute.”
She looped her still slightly damp hair over one arm and hurried to pull a beaded tunic and simple trousers from her armoire. She yanked them on, before stepping into black boots and walking to the door, hair hung over one arm again like a limp piece of rope.
Sayna opened the door, to find Germaine waiting outside, a covered basket in one paw.
She smiled up at Sayna, before looking at her hair. “Oh dear, do you need help with that?”
Sayna sighed, and nodded. Germaine walked past her to her dresser, and found the comb sitting atop it. “Well, have a seat on your bed, we’ll talk while I get you fixed up, alright?”
Sayna nodded again, and crawled onto her bed without another word, letting her hair hang off it behind her. She relaxed as she felt Germaine gently running the comb through it. That reminded her of her mother, the way Aryah used to brush her hair.
My beautiful kit. Sayna smiled at the remembrance of her mother’s words. Your hair must be a piece of the sun itself, it’s so golden.
“So.” Said Germaine. “How did it feel to be shot in the neck? Tell me everything.”
Sayna smirked. This conversation, on the other paw, did not remind her of her mother.
“Uncomfortable, really.” Sayna rubbed her throat, remembering. “Unpleasant. It was a bit hard to breathe, and I couldn’t talk at all. It felt… um. Stiff? That’s the best description I can think of.”
“But no pain.” Germaine confirmed as she ran the comb gently through Sayna’s hair. 
“No.” Sayna shook her head. “Not until I pulled the arrow out, and then only for a second.”
“Fascinating.” Germaine said. She began gently tugging at Sayna’s hair, lifting pieces of it into a braid. “Do go on.”
Sayna shrugged. “There’s not much else to tell. I just removed the arrow, the wound somehow healed, and I didn’t bleed half as much as I should have. I guess it itched a little. Everyone was shocked, and I just did my best to pretend nothing even happened. It’s sort of a blur, a rush of emotions and all that. I still don’t know what to think of what went on.”
She took a deep breath, before asking, “So. What do you think is happening to me?”
“I have heard whispers of the ice flowers of Taevar. All are highly exaggerated… they can raise the long dead; just breathing the air in which they grow can make a creature immortal. Somehow, I highly doubt that.”
Germaine never stopped braiding. “However. I find myself believing more and more in their claims of immortality. I just think a creature would need to have far more contact than breathing the air in which they exist.”
She said nothing for a moment, before Sayna said, “So, a creature like me.”
“Exactly.” Said Germaine. “Which, if you don’t mind me saying, young queen, is going to make you truly fascinating to study.”
Sayna glanced back at Germaine as the mouse fastened her hair in place with a leather strip. “I’m your test subject?”
“With all respect, milady, I mean you no harm. You are simply the most fascinating case I’ve ever had the opportunity to observe. And I will, of course, ask your permission in all things. That being said, I do hope you’ll let me record all my findings about you.”
Sayna paused, then shrugged. “Sure.”
“Wonderful!” Said Germaine, beginning to wind the braid she’d created into a bun. “Say, you wouldn’t happen to fancy the young Leaf-mark enough to marry him, would you?”
Sayna froze a moment, feeling her cheeks grow a bit warm. “Uh… why?”
Germaine stuck pins into her hairstyle… she seemed to have come prepared. “Oh, well, on the off chance you were actually able to have kits, they would undoubtedly be completely fascinating. I expect they might inherit some of the magic in you.”
Sayna just blinked. There was so much to that sentence she wasn’t sure which part to address first. 
In the end all she managed to do was stammer, “.... kits?”
“Ah, I see you are not ready to consider the idea yet. That is fine, of course. I’m just… truly amazed by your existence.” Germaine patted Sayna on the shoulder. “And if it bothers you so, with the laws of magic, I have my doubts on if you could even become pregnant. So you needn’t worry.”
Germaine picked up her basket, patting Sayna’s arm. “Oh. And the young Voh… Brek… is asking for you.”
She walked to the door, smiling. “Thank you for telling me what you could, young queen. I’ll ask other eye witnesses to your… murder? Though is it a murder if you don’t die…?”
She seemed thoughtful, and like she was talking to herself. “Ah well. Do drop by the infirmary. I won’t let the young Voh up yet and he is begging to see you. I really must visit my other new patients, so I’ll see you later dear.”
With that, she disappeared, her humming audible as she walked away down the hall.
As if she hadn’t just broken Sayna’s mind in every possible way.
Sayna shook herself, forcing everything Germaine had said away, and instead focused on Brek. Brek wanted to see her. That was what mattered right now.
She hopped off her bed, buckled on her sword, and left her room. 
She’d never gotten on well with kits anyway. So Germaine’s suspicions, if true, were likely for the best.
Sayna walked the corridors of Brockhall, ones that were growing fairly familiar. Sayna hadn’t really thought that was possible, but she simply knew where to turn. She remembered more than she’d realized. 
She slipped into the infirmary, softly closing the door behind her. Urran was mixing herbs on one of Germaine’s tables, and relief filled his eyes when he saw her. “Oh thank Ignasa. I wasn’t sure how much longer I could keep him abed. Brek… really has a mind of his own now, you know.”
Sayna just nodded, and offered Urran a smile. “Yeah, I’ll go talk with him.”
“You always connected so well with him.” Urran looked down at his paws, covered in bits of leaves.
Sayna paused, then walked the steps between them and laid a paw on his shoulder. “Is he still angry with you?”
“He hasn’t said.” Said Urran. He paused, looking up at her. “Why aren’t you?”
“I cannot judge any for their mistakes. Not when I’ve made so many myself. And Ignasa forgave me, so I suppose I feel as though I should extend the favor.”
“What was he like?” Urran breathed. “What was it like to see him?”
Sayna paused, and considered that. “Like meeting life itself.”
But there was no other way to describe him, or to think of him. And the details of that meeting… were hers. More precious than her crown, or all the treasures of the world… she wasn’t certain she would ever wish to tell anyone all of what had happened.
She patted Urran’s shoulder smiling. “I’ll go talk to Brek now. Before he hears me and comes stumbling out.”
Urran nodded, and pointed to a blue curtained room at the end of the infirmary. “He’s in that one.”
Sayna simply walked over to it, and tapped her paw on the stone doorway. “Brek? Can I come in?”
His voice sounded eager. “Sayna? Yes! Please.”
She brushed the curtain aside and walked in, noting Brek sitting up in his bed. He looked thin, something made more obvious by the fact he wore no shirt. And yes, Brek had always been thin, but it made Sayna wonder if he was eating enough.
She sat down in a chair near his bed as Brek stared at her, finally breathing, “You… really are alive.”
“Yes… well… maybe.” Sayna said. “Anyway, I’m still tied to the physical realm, so yes, in some sense.”
Brek cocked his head, and Sayna clarified, “Apparently I died for awhile… when Fragoral impaled me.”
“For… awhile?” Brek asked.
“Ignasa let me come back.” Sayna said. “And Taevarian ice flowers were involved.”
Brek rubbed the side of his head, looking overwhelmed. Sayna placed a paw on his shoulder. “Hey. I don’t understand it either. I’m just… living each day as I can. And every day is a gift I shouldn’t have, but do. It’s alright, I don’t need to know more right now.”
Brek just stared at her. His eyes bore rather dark shadows beneath them. 
“Brek, what have you been doing?”
He shook his head and folded his paws, voice not much more than a whisper. “I… couldn’t let you die. Germaine has already scolded me a lot, but I’m not sorry. You can’t make me be sorry.”
“Brek.” Sayna tightened her grip on his shoulder. “I’m not going to scold you for being reckless, Ignasa knows I’m guilty of it. But why do you look like you haven’t slept in days? And… are you normally so thin?”
Brek looked away, muttering, “Germaine says I shifted too much.”
“Shifted?”
Brek took a deep breath, before meeting her gaze again. “It’s my Prophet’s Soul. That’s what Germaine says. Or… it’s going to be. But apparently my body hasn’t adjusted enough and my understanding is not full enough to use Soul yet… and I tried to channel the same amount of magic as I would use while in it.”
Sayna knew she was getting lost, so she asked again, “What is shifting?”
“Transformation.” Brek said. “More specifically, teleportation.”
Sayna slowly nodded, then said, “But you’ve done that before.”
“Well… yes. But see, I teleported Luna and I outside, then I shifted above Fragorl… and again so I didn’t fall to my death… and then I shifted you and Torrin back here to the infirmary.” Brek smiled sheepishly. “And… apparently that was too much for one day.”
“Oh.” Sayna said, since she wasn’t sure what else to say. Then something he’d said registered. “You teleported me?”
“Well… yes. You’d been stabbed, Torrin could barely walk, we were in the middle of the woods.”
Brek looked away, muttering, “I know. It was risky but I just… couldn’t lose you again.”
Sayna didn’t move for a moment, before she wrapped him in a tight hug, pulling his wiry frame against her’s and burying her face in his wild hair. “You saved me.”
Tears pricked at her eyes, before she murmured, “Thank you.”
Brek silently hugged her back, and Sayna said, “If you hadn’t done what you did, I would be dead, for real.”
All these chances I have now would never have been.
She tightened her hold on Brek for a second, before drawing back. “But I do think you should take it easy for awhile.”
She paused as her clawtips brushed over his right shoulder, the one turned away from her, and she felt the welted ridges she couldn’t see. Sayna froze for a second, before turning Brek around, and seeing for the first time, the eye-brand seared into his shoulder. It was large, far larger than Torrin’s or Tynek’s, and more ornamented too.
Brek covered it protectively, saying, “Gingivere did what he had to, and I’m not sorry.”
“He branded you?” No matter what Brek said, Sayna couldn’t help but be indignant. 
“He had to!” Brek protested. “I chose to go with him, and if he hadn’t, Verdauga would have had me killed to punish him.”
He lifted his chin, letting his paw slip from the brand. He met her gaze with his wide brown eyes, eyes hardened by circumstance, and yet somehow still kind. “It is a part of my story. Of who I am. I wouldn’t trade it for anything.”
Maybe it was odd to feel so proud of him for that.
She smiled then, and ruffled his messy hair. “Very well, young warrior.”
Brek grinned a tired grin. “Am I anything like you?”
Sayna froze, and blinked at him for awhile. “What do you mean?”
“I always wanted to be like you. To be brave.”
“I…” Her voice cracked. “I’m not that brave.”
“You are.” Brek insisted. “Because you stand in the face of fear and you don’t cower. Even when you’re afraid, you never back down. I remember when Roderick treated you like filth, and no matter what he did, you took it in stride.”
Sayna shook her head. “Roderick was nothing.”
Brek met her gaze. “But he wasn’t back then. And everything I went through… I just asked myself what you would do, and then did my best at that.”
Sayna blinked away tears, rubbing them away with the backs of her paws. “I… don’t deserve that kind of trust.”
“You’re my hero.” Brek said, simply. “You always were.” 
Sayna did cry then, a little. She couldn’t help it. It was too much to hold in, or ignore. She placed her face in her paws and tried to shove the tears away, but they wouldn’t go. Brek grabbed her paws with his far smaller ones, and through her blurry vision, she saw him smile a weary smile. “It’s alright. I know. I’m just glad we could talk again. That I get to see you again. That’s all.”
“Thank you.” Sayna rubbed her sleeve over her eyes, regaining some composure, at least.
She didn’t know what else to say. She stared at Brek for awhile, and he stared back. He was so different, he’d changed so terribly much, and so had she. Did they even know who the other was anymore?
“So.” Brek rubbed the back of his head. “You… like this Torrin?”
“Yeah.” Sayna said. “I think I do.”
Brek looked like he really, really wanted to say something, so Sayna sighed, “Go ahead. Spit it out.”
“I guess I thought… I mean… after Gruvan…”
“Believe me, I’ve thought of that. A lot. A whole lot. And I know it’s terrible… but what he wanted… I wasn’t ready for. Gruvan wanted a little adventure and then a life of peace in the north with a family. And I wish he could have had it. But… it wasn’t ever going to be with me. I just wish I’d seen that before it was too late.”
Brek just looked at her for a moment, before rubbing his forehead. “I’m happy for you, it’s just… weird.”
“A lot of things are weird.” Sayna said with a shrug.
“Yeah. I still have a picture in my mind of you and Rose when we were kits and that’s just… not how it is anymore. You’re a queen… Rose won’t listen to a word I say when it comes to Tynek…” Brek paused. “Well actually, that hasn’t changed much.”
Sayna took a deep breath. “Brek, he’s my brother too.”
Brek blinked, then stared. “You like him now?”
“It took a lot of thinking.” Sayna folded her paws together. “But yes. He is sorry for what he did, and I of all creatures, know what it’s like to do something I regret while in Bloodwrath.”
“He’s sorry?” Brek sounded incredulous. “Well I couldn’t tell.”
Sayna shook her head, leaning back in her chair. “That’s because you haven’t spent any time with him. If you’d seen when we first found Rose again… I think you’d think differently. And he’s taking steps to ensure nothing like that happens going forward, just as I.”
Brek crossed his arms, and said nothing.
“I didn’t want to forgive him either…”
“Forgive? I’m not forgiving him.”
Sayna sighed. “Well you could at least try to hear his side of the story.”
“If he’d tell it.” Brek snorted. 
“I think he would.” Sayna said, lifting Brek’s chin and forcing him to meet her gaze. “If you let him.”
Brek grumbled, but just nodded. 
Sayna didn’t find that too promising, but supposed it was better than nothing. 
She turned as the curtain lifted, and Gingivere shuffled in, still relying heavily on his staff. He blinked when he saw Sayna, and turned to go, saying, “Sorry.”
“No, you can stay.” Brek said, before Sayna had a chance to do anything. 
Gingivere looked to her in question, and she nodded. “I don’t mind.”
He stepped inside, each step careful. When he sat down on a too-small chair, Sayna noticed his shaking legs. She pricked an ear up. “Are you any better?”
“Yes.” He said. “Just worn out from teaching Sandingomm laws. She’s… not used to this. And keeping her focused is tiring.”
He smiled. “But in all honesty, yes. I think I could heft a sword again… for a short while.”
He leaned forward a little, honest concern in his pale eyes. “And… if I might ask… how are you? Considering what happened last night.”
“Oh, Sandingomm told you?” Sayna asked, growing tired of creatures bringing it up.
“Uh, yes. Several times.”
“Of course.” Sayna sighed. 
Brek looked at the two of them, asking, “Why? What happened last night?”
Sayna rolled her eyes. “It’s… really not that big of a deal, alright? Amber shot me in the throat.”
Brek’s mouth dropped open.
Sayna shrugged. “So it seems I’m immortal now.”
“You’ve died twice in three days?” Brek asked, sounding upset.
“Well…” Sayna thought about it, and then said, “Technically, yeah.”
She paused, adding, “And now I expect we’ll have to put Amber on trial. Since she tried to kill Sandingomm and fatally injured me.”
“We better!” Brek sputtered.
“I’m so tired of trials.” Sayna admitted. “Of course, I do think there’s no avoiding it. Outside of the attempted murder, I’m sure she broke a… lot of laws and violated at least some treaties. I don’t see how she could have avoided it as she acted without the majority vote.”
And Warthorn had deemed it alright to tie her up after knocking her unconscious, something that furthered Sayna’s theory.
“I’d agree with that.” Gingivere stroked his chin. “All the leaders of Mossflower are bound to decide courses of action as a unit. If Amber went against that… I’m not entirely sure… but I believe she could be accused of treason.”
Sayna met his gaze. “Which means she can be legally stripped of her crown.”
Gingivere slowly nodded. “And it would be passed to her heir.”
He froze, and then breathed, “Redfarl.”
Sayna blinked. That would be interesting. The idea of actually getting along with the squirrelqueen! What a novel concept.
Gingivere said nothing for awhile, seeming to contemplate the idea of Redfarl as a queen as much as Sayna was. Finally he said, “Milady, I actually did wish to speak with you considering the offer I made earlier.”
He glanced at Brek, saying, “In regards to trial by combat with my sister. I believe, with what Sandingomm has told me of Kotir and Distemper, I could gain even more leverage than I first thought.”
“But you aren’t well enough!” Brek protested instantly.
“Well or not, Brek,” Gingivere’s eyes glimmered. “If Mossflower falls I’ll be dead anyway.”
Sayna slowly nodded as he said, “This is my last haven.”
“This is the last haven for all of us. I am thankful you offer, though… if I could, I would fight your sister instead. However, you are right. She will never heed a mouse. Still, would she listen to you?”
“I would need your help.” Gingivere said. “But she would if I was impossible to ignore.”
Brek was frowning, but Sayna found herself nodding. “So we plunder her towns; steal her harvest. We make ourselves such a thorn in her side she can no longer pretend we are nothing. You and Sandingomm offer those villagers she’s abandoned the hope of treatment and a queen worth following.”
Sayna stood in a rush of exhilaration. “We make our stand. Together, as it should be; all five courts as one.”
She paused, looking down at her clenched paw. And she realized she found herself excited, and hopeful.
She turned to face Brek and Gingivere. “In the meantime, you train, and rest. Both of you. I know you’ll both be integral to our success.”
Gingivere stared at her, before saying softly, “You really are the daughter of the Lukes, the promised queen.”
“I wasn’t.” Sayna took a deep breath, and then let herself smile. “Until I believed it as truth myself.”
Becoming.
She smiled. This was what it felt like.
“Of course,” She said, “We will need to bring this before the council, and Amber must come first.”
And who knows how exhausting that will be.
Sayna smiled at Brek. “I’ll let you two talk. And I’ll come back to visit soon… for now, I should… write down my thoughts. I do have a lot of them.”
That was certainly true. Brek didn’t protest as she waved and pushed the curtain aside, walking from his room.
She returned to her own chambers, and pulled her journal from the top drawer of her dresser. Sayna climbed onto her bed, and she stared blankly at her paper for a long while. Where to start? The failed attack? The ghosts in Kotir? Finding out about her immortality?
In the end, she wrote down what she’d discussed with Gingivere and Brek. She doubted she would, but she didn’t want to forget her idea for an avenue of offense.
Then she noted the ghosts in Kotir, and what Amber had done. That could be useful. 
And she was almost certain she hadn’t left anything out. Her memory was almost picture by individual picture, like an artist had painted each moment.
She paused in what she was doing, realizing her mind had wandered. And when she looked down at the book in her lap, she found she’d been sketching. When… had she actually done that last? Yet her claws remembered. 
The sketch wasn’t very good, but all things considered, it was passible. It depicted Torrin, riding the kelpie he’d taken up with. Sayna decided she really should learn it’s name.
Also, was it creepy to draw a creature without asking? Probably.
She closed her book, cheeks a bit warm, before hopping off her bed and tucking it in the top drawer of her dresser. And then she found she didn’t have much to do.
Sayna left her room with a sigh, wondering where everyone was. She thought of finding Torrin or Tynek and asking them to spar, but they were likely tired. And, come to think of it, she wasn’t even sure what part of Brockhall their rooms were in. She didn’t think she’d ever been there.
So instead she wandered rather aimlessly, boots making the softest taps on the white-marble halls.
They were so… quiet. And they were always quiet, but it seemed deeper today. Sadder. Like the hall itself mourned with its master. 
Bella. Was she… ok, after seeing what she had in Kotir?
Sayna wasn’t sure if she was ok, and she was far less invested. She thought of the room with the connecting canals and the silver chandelier like falling rain. 
Her paws took her there, through the corridors coated in water, past the endless doors. 
Someday, she should open them all. 
She stopped outside the doors to the chandelier room, and then cracked them open, peering inside. Sure enough, Bella was there, sitting on the surface of the water beneath the piece of sparkling silver decor.
Her hair spilled over her shoulders, and she held one arm across herself, though she didn’t move.
Softly, as to not break whatever spell of silence lay over the room, Sayna crept to Bella’s side and sat next to her on the water that disregarded all forms of logic. 
Bella didn’t even move. For a long time, Sayna didn’t either.
She simply existed there, listening to the water drip all around her. Finally, Bella shifted, sighing heavily, “Do you need me?”
“No.” Sayna said. “Maybe I should have left you alone. But you told me earlier you would be here if I ever wanted to talk. So… I thought rather stupidly, that maybe I’d try to return the favor.” 
She looked down. “I know what happened. I’m… sorry.”
“It wasn’t your fault.” Bella said, gruffly. 
“No. I’m sorry I didn’t come the moment I could and do everything I could to change things. I just… left you.”
Sayna felt her shoulders slump, and Bella sighed, reaching a paw down and lifting her chin. “You weren’t ready for these responsibilities then.”
She smiled weakly, a broken smile, but still there. “Sometimes we must wander long enough to find ourselves. And at times Ignasa lets us, I find. I have wandered these last years, cold, and very alone.”
Bella dipped her head, drawing her paw from Sayna’s chin. “In his mercy, Ignasa has returned to me what I let fade. Again, his magic sings it’s songs to me, and the water listens. You have hid from what you feared, yet now you face it. We have all grown and changed.”
She clenched a paw around her arm. “Yet some things are harder than others.”
Sayna laid a paw on Bella’s arm, shocked by the sincerity she felt. “I know.”
Bella met her gaze, before wrapping her in a sudden hug, one Sayna stiffened against for a moment, and then leaned into. 
“I believe that.” Bella whispered. “Your eyes have seen much.”
Sayna tightened her hug, though her paws had no hope of touching. She took a shaky little breath, because of how true that was. After a moment, she drew back, remembering that yes, she actually did have a question for Bella.
“Can… I take you up on your offer of advice? I know now might be a bad time.”
“I would welcome the distraction.” Bella said.
Sayna nodded. “Um. So. When I died. I… well, I met Ignasa.”
Bella said nothing, she just stared. Sayna glanced away. “And he told me that together, we could bind Bloodwrath… lock her away. He did warn me that only death could separate her from me… but he said there is a way for me to take control. Through him.”
She looked into Bella’s tired brown eyes again, saying, “I was wondering if you had any ideas on how it would be done.”
Bella blinked, and then looked up at the ceiling for a moment. When she looked back to Sayna, she asked, “Ignasa… told you this himself?”
“Yes.” Sayna nodded. She was almost certain those were his exact words.
Bella just shook her head, true wonder in her eyes. “You’ve seen him.”
“You haven’t?” Sayna asked before thinking.
Then she wanted to kick herself. Few ever had.
Bella sighed. “No, not face to face as you have. Though I wish that could be granted to me, I will likely need to die first.”
She paused. “Which… technically happened to you.”
Sayna shrugged. 
Bella nodded to herself, thoughtful. “I do not know. But I will ask, I will study this. If Ignasa says there is a way; there is.”
She cocked her head. “Perhaps you should ask Groddil too?”
“I…” Sayna paused. “Groddil fears Bloodwrath. He doesn’t know much.”
“That may be true. But he has more faith in Ignasa than many I’ve seen. And he is your guardian.”
Sayna slowly stood, sighing, “I suppose you’re right.”
She offered Bella a little smile, one that felt very insincere in the face of all that had happened. “I’ll… let you be. Thank you for considering my question.”
Sayna left quickly, her stomach feeling like it was twisted in knots. She leaned against the wall of the outer corridor for a moment after she’d shut the door, staring at the water rippling across the ceiling and trying to make sense of what she had just done.
She’d just went out of her way to comfort someone, and not just anyone. Bella. One of the most respected Prophets Sayna had ever met… how did she feel worthy to offer Bella anything?
And yet, she’d known she had to, though she couldn’t say why.
Sayna took a deep breath and left the hallway, making her way back to the infirmary. After Ferran’s attack, she was pretty certain Groddil had taken Asher deeper into its rooms and barely dared to leave the fox kit. 
No one was inside the first room, and Sayna recalled something about Germaine mentioning new patients. The villagers that had joined Sandingomm. Of course, that was the obvious answer as to where Germain, Urran, and probably Ayml were. Sayna slipped past Brek’s room, certain she could hear him and Gingivere talking, though she didn’t interrupt.
She walked into the second room, and saw Groddil right away. He sat on the floor by the pool, nephew in his lap. Sayna joined him, sitting beside him and pulling her boots off her paws. She dangled her paws in the water, looking at Asher. He was awake, and he stared up at her with his large, ruby eyes. Which admittedly were cute, even if somewhat unsettling. 
Groddil looked up as she sat, asking, “What is it lass?”
“We seem to have a moment of respite. And I don’t know what I should do.”
“Spend time with your friends, perhaps?” Groddil asked.
Sayna shrugged. “I count you as such. Even if we… haven’t been talking a lot. It’s just… there’s always something.”
“It’s natural, lass. You needed me for a time. But I never expected you to need me forever. I always prayed you would find companions among your peers, so this thing makes me happy.” He ruffled Asher’s cheek fur. “Besides, I have a new little lad to watch over.”
“And you claim you aren’t a good parent.” Sayna said, leaning back on her paws. 
Groddil ducked his head for a moment, before Sayna noted the little smile cross his fanged muzzle. “Ignasa seems to consider me a good mentor, somehow. And who am I to argue?”
Sayna nodded. She could have told him that ages ago. But all she said was, “So, can he talk?”
“Goodness lass, he’s but a month and a half old. He can yip some, and he’s working on his growl.” Groddil smiled down at Asher, who’d grabbed his paw in both his tiny ones. The kit proceeded to gnaw on Groddil’s claws with his toothless pink gums. “And his teeth will come soon.”
When had Brek started talking? He’d been able to toddle about by then, and pull himself up using the furniture. But then, mother had said he’d begun talking late. 
“I’d give him another five months before expecting much of that.” Groddil said, answering Sayna’s mental question. 
He let Asher slobber on his claws without complaint, something Sayna doubted she could have withstood. “So, did you have a specific question for me? I have the sense that you do.”
“Uh… yeah. I asked Bella, and she said I should probably ask you. When I died…”
Groddil flinched ever so slightly, and Sayna paused, before saying, “When that happened, I met Ignasa.”
“Face to face?” Groddil asked.
“Yeah.”
Groddil slowly smiled. “I have too.”
Sayna blinked. “You have?”
“I believe it would be very different from your experience.” Said Groddil. “But yes, I have. I wasn’t dead, though. So I have the feeling he appeared to me in a far more mortal form. Remember the tale I told you as a kit? Of the Guide?”
Sayna nodded, smiling instantly. “That was one of my favorites.”
“Well…” Groddil looked down. “It actually wasn’t a story. I’m not all that creative.”
Sayna just blinked, and realized in retrospect, that made quite a lot of sense. She could even see the resemblance now that she considered it. “He did wear a cloak, though it was all white.”
Groddil nodded, like that was obvious. He wiggled his claws for Asher, who happily snatched at them with clumsy fists. “But I am getting distracted. What did you want to tell me of when you met Ignasa?”
Oh. Right. “He said there was a way to bind Bloodwrath, he and I together. So I’m trying to discover how I need to go about it.”
Groddil sat back a little, just gazing at her in silence. And then he nodded. 
“Of course.”
Sayna pricked up her ears. “Do you know a way?”
“I didn’t mean that.” Groddil sighed, “Just that now you have trusted him, his power is in you. You are bound to him, and so naturally, there would be a way to counter Bloodwrath. I have simply never heard of it.”
He paused. “But there are ancient books here, I know that. And surely the first Lukes knew the way. How else could they build a kingdom so renowned, even with their curse?”
Of course! A grin spread across Sayna’s face, only to fade seconds later. 
“But Kotir was our castle. Most old texts would have been there.”
And now they are but ashes.
“True.” Groddil said, ears drooping a bit. They pricked up a moment later as he said, “And yet… there is a chance. I will search myself, when this laddie is sleeping.”
Sayna nodded, standing, “I’ll go look now. Thank you!”
Groddil smiled and waved a little as she hurried from the infirmary, set on her destination. She ran past Gina, mixing sharp smelling herbs in the first room, and Sayna surprised herself when she waved to the half-blood lady. And it was a cheerful wave too.
Sayna held back the skips in her steps as she increased her stride until she was running.
You won’t find anything.
But even the darker thoughts of her mind could not dampen this hope.
There is a way.
Sayna grinned as she dashed along passages she remembered with impossible clarity. 
A way to be free.
Which… was a very good thing, since the last time they’d met, Bloodwrath had tried to kill her. Sayna shuddered to think what would come if they met again before she was ready.
No. That wouldn’t happen. She wouldn’t think of it.
She would be ready.
Sayna slid to a stop outside the library, then walked in through the already half-opened doors. The water on the ceiling reflected her image, wavering splotches of gold and teal. And the size of this place made her every step echo.
She hadn’t had much time to actually look around and ponder how many books were here. But shelf after shelf lined walls tall enough Bella herself would need a ladder to reach their tops. 
Which she did, because Sayna noted a rolling one sitting against a wall. And, coincidentally, Torrin perched on the flat bit at it’s top as he read a book. He glanced up at the taps of her boots, and Sayna smirked. “We seem to meet in libraries.”
“And on battlefields, in fires, and during sparring matches.” He leaned over the at least seven-foot drop from the ladder, swinging his legs a bit. “Occasionally in food tents.”
“Just nowhere normal.” Sayna laughed.
“Normal is dull.” Said Torrin, half closing his book but still holding his place in it. 
“I’m here to find the oldest books in this place.” Sayna said, though she couldn’t help but grin at his comment. 
Torrin glanced at the shelf beside him, saying, “Well, I think they’d be in this general area. This is in the old script, after all.”
He held up the book he was reading. 
“What’s it about?” Sayna asked, though she doubted it was the one she needed. Still, asking couldn’t hurt.
“A quest for dragon treasure in the swamps.” Torrin said, adding, “I’m… pretty sure it’s made up.”
He glanced at the book, then joked, “That or Yar and Yaz are really holding out on us.”
“I’ll have to read that sometime.” Sayna stopped at the base of the ladder. “But today I’m looking for any writing of the ancient Lukes.”
“Hmm. I haven’t seen that.” Torrin frowned a bit. “Wouldn’t that have been in Kotir?”
Sayna grimaced. “Probably.”
“Why do you need it?” Torrin asked as he slipped a flat thing between the pages of his book and set it beside him on the ladder.
“When I met Ignasa…”
She paused, but Torrin didn’t wince. Well, he was probably used to the idea of her being dead or immortal now. Sayna continued. “When we spoke, he told me there is a way for me to bind Bloodwrath. And… I need to be ready.”
She held in her shiver, and met his blue gaze. “Torrin… when I met Bloodwrath last… she attacked me. That was how Fragorl had the chance to stab me.”
Torrin stared. “Bloodwrath can do that?”
“She said something about how I betrayed her master.” Sayna glanced away, grabbing her arm. “Our master.”
She dared to look up at him, taking a deep breath. “I hadn’t used her since I… came to follow Ignasa. She wants me dead. And if anyone could kill me, I think it would be her.”
Sayna smirked weakly. “I’d like to live.”
Torrin just blinked at her, and then stood on the top of the ladder. “I’ll help you search.”
“Thank you.” Sayna sighed. “It’s a daunting task.”
He nodded, asking, “So it’s written by the old kings?”
Sayna shrugged, beginning to search through the books on the lower shelves. “Honestly, it could be in any old book of records. It’s possible it could be something an old Luke said that then was recorded by others.”
She paused, paw on the spines of the old, cracked books.
Now that she vocalized it, she realized how impossible this task was. She pulled a book out and flipped through it, finding it to be a record of ancient trials.
“We’ll find it.” Torrin assured as he looked through the books higher up since he was already on the ladder, but Sayna wasn’t so sure.
They looked for awhile, how long, Sayna couldn’t really say. There were plenty of fascinating texts here, just not on Bloodwrath. Eventually, the door creaking open made her turn, to see Indigo walking inside.
Her corporal bowed. “My queen, milord. Sorry to interrupt, but there is the matter of those few of our court who decided to side with Amber last night.”
Sayna cocked her head, sliding the book back on the shelf. “And?”
“Well my queen… you are queen now. And Tynek is king. That means you must preside over your own court, Bella won’t be doing it for you anymore.” Indigo informed her.
Oh. Sayna glanced up at Torrin, and he shrugged. “It’s alright. I’ll keep looking.”
Indigo cleared her throat. “Well… actually milord, as a mark, you’re a sort of advisor. I can’t force you to come, but your presence is requested.” 
Torrin paused, then started down the ladder. “Alright.”
He jumped the last few steps, asking, “Are we doing this now?”
“Yes milord. I’ve been searching all over for you two…” Indigo paused, glancing at Sayna. “I’m not sure why the library wasn’t my first choice, honestly. Anyway, come with me.”
Sayna followed then, and heard Torrin close behind. Indigo led them to a marble chamber that looked like it could have been the throne room of a small castle. Tynek and Rose sat in simple but sturdy wooden chairs at one end, looking over a book. Tynek looked up as Sayna walked in, and smiled slightly. Rose closed their book, and Sayna noted Fiske and several rabbits standing around. Strangely, she didn’t see Tine.
There were three other chairs clustered together with the two already occupied ones. Sayna sat in one, Torrin hesitated and took another. Indigo sat in the third one.
That was odd, Sayna wasn’t used to the rabbit actually being part of her council. But then, this was just for the court of mice, not all of Mossflower. For a bit, no one said anything, and Torrin finally asked, “So. We’re here to discuss these defectors.”
“Right, Milord.” Said Indigo. “As your military leader, I would have gladly dealt with this small thing myself. Except… I am not sure how to punish them. All the normal methods are… problematic.”
“Problematic?” Sayna asked.
Indigo sighed. “Indeed milady. See, what they did would be, by all accounts, treason.”
That word. It twisted in Sayna’s gut and settled like a heavy rock there, because she knew its implications well by now. Her voice came out laden with dislike. “So we have to execute them.”
“Well… usually.” Indigo admitted. “But we have three hundred. And we’d be losing ten reasonably good soldiers if we killed them. And yet you cannot let this thing slide by and expect to maintain order.”
“Is there no other punishment?” Asked Rose.
Indigo shrugged. “Sure. I could make them clean barracks for months, if we had barracks. I could make them look after our mess hall, if we had one of those. I could make them mind the stables… but again. We don’t have those. If you had a city, they could clean the streets, pave roads… build something. But we don’t have any of that. You don’t even have a stocks. The best you have is a communal market where farmers come to trade.”
Tynek looked thoughtful. “Sildrin’s slave masters tied rebels to the wall, lashed them until they could not run, and left them there.”
Everyone stared at him. Tynek paused. “I… am not saying that is what we should do. That is just what I know of punishment.”
Rose reached out and took his paw. “Ty, that’s not punishment. That’s torture and… well, exacution.”
“One lived.” Tynek said, then paused. “For a day. Again. This is not what I want to do.”
He stopped for a moment again, then looked at Indigo. “All I mean is… these things you say… just seem like jobs. Not punishments. I believe I am confused.”
Indigo tapped her chin. “Well. We could actually whip them.”
Torrin gritted his teeth spontaneously. “Let’s not.”
Sayna glanced at Tynek, then back at Torrin. And she had to wonder how many lashes they’d been given in their lives. And what that might feel like.
“Not brutally.” Indigo said. “It’s common in armies, and light for a crime like this. No more than seven lashes apiece though. This is a warning, I need them able to function soon after.”
Tynek blinked at her like she’d grown a third ear. “That… is not a whipping.”
“No my king, it is. A normal, fair one.” Indigo nodded. 
“Mine… were in no way fair, then.” Tynek said, nodding to himself like he should have expected that. 
Rose squeezed his paw, and Tynek smiled at her, saying, “I am alright.”
Sayna took a deep breath, and glanced to Torrin. He looked… grim. And like he didn’t like a bit of this. Still, before she could say anything, he sighed, then said, “I suppose, as Indigo says, for the crime committed, that would be only just. And far less than they would receive elsewhere.”
He wrinkled his muzzle, adding, “And they did aid… Amber.”
His voice got a little darker as he said the squirrel-queen’s name.
Torrin glanced at Sayna, and she imagined he was probably thinking about watching an arrow be shot into her neck at point-blank range. There couldn’t have been more than a full arrow-length between her and the tip of Amber’s arrow. In fact, Sayna found herself sure there had been less.
Again. How was she not dead?
Sayna shook that thought from her mind as Indigo asked something, and Sayna blinked. “Sorry. What?”
Indigo rolled her eyes. “I simply said since you don’t have a stocks, we could give them a few lashes each and tie them to a tree or something to think about the fact you didn’t kill them.”
She nodded to herself. “I doubt that would feel good.”
The rabbit paused when she seemed to notice all eyes were on her. “What? It’s not like I haven’t spent a night in the stocks. We all do it at some point. I was guilty of mouthing off myself.”
Sayna blinked at Indigo, who waved a paw at her. “Oh don’t look so shocked. Upstart recruits have done far worse. Now, what do you think? I think… since the normal punishment would be death, they’re getting off right easy.”
And really, how could Sayna argue that? Besides, she didn’t have an honest reason to. If she didn’t exercise some force in this matter, who knew what might come? 
“We must show our strength.” Tynek nodded slowly. 
Rose frowned. “Could we not hear their part in this before sentencing them? Who knows what Amber told them?”
Indigo made a face. “Either way, milady, they knew better than to go with her. I am their commander. Sayna and Tynek are their commanders, and surely they understand the simplest laws of this land they’ve grown up in.”
“We could hear them.” Torrin said. “Let them explain themselves. Perhaps we should not punish all equally depending on their view of this.”
“But..” Indigo began, stopping when Torrin interrupted. 
“Some may deserve a punishment worse than what you suggest.”
Indigo paused, then relaxed. “I see your point, milord.”
She looked to Fiske. “Well, go bring them in… one at a time, please.”
Sayna leaned back in her chair, and settled in to stay there awhile. There was no way this would be over anytime soon. But she supposed this was part of what she’d resigned herself to when she’d let Bella set a crown on her head. 
Something, Sayna realized, she wasn’t actually wearing at the moment.
Well. There wasn’t anything to be done about it now.
She said nothing, in fact, silence reigned over the room, until Fiske returned, he and a rabbit guarding a scruffy mouse. Sayna couldn’t be sure of his age. He glared at the ground, and said nothing.
Finally, Indigo said, “Your king and queen wish to know what complaint you might have to lead you to betray them in the way that you have.”
The scruffy mouse looked up, gray-brown hair flopping in his face, and honest surprise in his eyes. And this time, though he said nothing, Sayna got the sense it was out of shock instead of resentment.
“Well?” Indigo pressed after a moment.
Suddenly, the mouse dropped his stare. “I…”
He took a deep breath. “I am allowed to say what I want?”
Sayna spoke, before rightly considering it. “You are allowed to tell us the truth.”
“I don’t agree with giving the vermin their court back.” He said in a rush. “So they were once among us. But at least some of them betrayed us. I have a family to protect, what’s to say if we recognise their throne, they won’t just betray us again?”
“You are a traitor too.” Tynek said simply. 
“I…” The mouse stopped. He seemed to really consider that for a moment, then dropped his head. “I’m not against you.”
Sayna folded her arms, knowing she sounded unconvinced. “That is rather hard to believe.”
The mouse closed his eyes, then slowly knelt. “I have awaited your coming long. I just…”
He glanced at Torrin, and Sayna did too. To his credit, Torrin kept his expression calm and unphased.
The mouse sighed. “I have a hard time trusting this idea of a vermin throne. Don’t we already have one of those, the one you are to fight against?”
“We are fighting.” Sayna said, meeting the mouse’s gaze as he dared to look up. “And believe me or no, Sandingomm could be the key to winning this war.”
Rose leaned forward. “Everything is not so straightforward as it may seem.”
“Hard though it may be to believe.” Torrin said stiffly, “We have Mossflower’s best interests at heart. And that includes me, no matter what you claim behind my back.”
The mouse cringed a bit, and then blinked as Tynek said, “Sandingomm was a slave. Like me. Like him.”
He pointed to Torrin. “We do not like the Greeneyes.”
Tynek crossed his arms. “And we will fight them to whatever end.”
Sayna blinked at him, finding it odd that Tynek had just grouped Sandingomm and Torrin in with himself. The mouse said nothing more for quite awhile, then placed a paw on the ground, lowering his head. “I only beg you spare my family.”
“Who do you think we are?” Rose sounded horrified. 
The scruffy mouse didn’t say anything for a moment, but finally spoke when he seemed to understand Rose actually expected an answer. “I… do not know.”
He glanced at Tynek and Sayna, and she couldn’t help but note the shadow of fear in his eyes. “You are Lukes. There are many stories. That is all I understand. Forgive me.”
Sayna turned to Tynek, only to find he looked completely impassive. Still, she wasn’t sure why she hadn’t seen this sort of thing happening. Yes, Bloodwrathers brought great advantage to wars, and commanded great might. But the instability was bound to create issues.
The mouse closed his eyes. “I have misjudged you.”
After a moment, Indigo looked at each of them. Sayna noticed even Rose nodded a little. Indigo stood with a sigh. “Soldier, for disobedience and disregarding orders, we sentence you to public flogging. Five lashes, and you will be tied for a day where any may see. After this, you will return to your home, heal, and I will expect you back for training in a week.”
The mouse jerked his head up, staring at her, then Sayna and Tynek. At last he almost whispered, “You… aren’t going to kill me?”
“Your manner is not that of one who means the crown harm.” Indigo lifted her chin. “And your opinions are your own. What we punish you for is your insobordence as a part of our military. As this is your first infraction, take it as a warning and know we will not be so merciful in the future.”
His legs shook a little, and then he bowed low, paw to his chest. “Thank you, my king, my queen.”
Then he straightened up again, and allowed Fiske and the rabbit to lead him from the room.
There was silence after they’d left. Sayna glanced to Indigo, asking, “Where’s Tine?”
“Quarantined.” Indigo said, clear annoyance in her tone. “Fiske’s acting as my second in the meantime. Germaine confined Tine to a room since he wouldn’t stop rubbing his paws in his face in Kotir. We’ll see what happens. I hope he doesn’t get sick. Fiske’s doing his best, but he wasn’t trained for this.”
Sayna just nodded to that. 
What else could go wrong, to make her lose more troops and commanders?
The next two soldiers Fiske brought in had much the same concerns as the first. The third one was honestly too young to be a soldier, and begged for mercy, saying he’d only went along with it because his older brother had. 
When all Indigo sentenced him to was a few lashes, Sayna was sure he would collapse with relief for a moment.
It was the second to the last one who caused some trouble. He was an older mouse, gray-haired and bearded, the type who appeared to have weathered not a few of life’s storms. He kept his head high as he was led in, his back straight. He shot Torrin a glare, and Sayna received one too. The only one in the room he recognized was Tynek, and him with a small bow. He completely ignored Rose.
Indigo opened her mouth to explain what he was accused of, but he cut her off. “I’ve seen what Verdauga did firstpaw. And you expect me to be fine with reinstating the court of vermin? You are Lukes.”
Sayna held in her flinch as the old one pointed at her. “She’s thrown her lot in with halfbloods and vermin scum.”
He met Tynek’s gaze challengingly. “I will answer only to you, my king.”
Tynek blinked, then stood in a single motion. 
Sayna knew he was holding in surprise, though he did it well enough, she doubted any other could. 
He raised his chin. “If you do not honor my sister…” 
He paused, glancing at Indigo, like he was waiting to be told he’d chosen the wrong words. Then his eyes hardened again, and he glared the old mouse down. “I am not your king.”
The mouse stared, and everyone else did too. Sayna just blinked. Was that… something Tynek could do? 
Tynek sat again in the silence, and Rose laid a paw on his arm as she whispered into his ear.
Sayna just tried to figure out what that would legally be considered. Exile? Execution?
She cleared her throat. “Tynek. I don’t mind what he thinks.”
“I do.” Said Tynek. “He cannot come to me alone.”
“Actually, I think it’s allowed.” Indigo corrected. 
Tynek paused, then shrugged. “And I am allowed to say no, yes?”
Indigo shrugged. “I mean… of course, my king.”
“Good.” Said Tynek. “I refuse.”
The mouse curled his lip. “So you side with vermin too. I should have figured.”
Indigo took a step forward. “Watch your tongue.”
“He’s right.” The mouse sneered. “He’s not my king, and she’s not my queen. I side with Amber.”
Sayna blinked. Well, she’d expected these sorts would exist. She just hadn’t encountered one so closely until now.
Indigo pinned her ears, a spark of anger flashing in her eyes. “I could kill you here and now for your insolence!”
“Better to die my own creature, then follow two fools and their icompetent forgiveness. These two never suffered what we did, what do they know?” He gestured at Sayna, and presumably Tynek too.
Indigo reached for her sword, and Sayna stood, holding out a paw. “Wait!”
All eyes in the room turned to her. For a second, she froze.
She hadn’t really had a plan, she just hadn’t wanted to watch yet another graphic beheading. Indigo straightened up. “My queen. This creature has denied you and your brother’s crown, and is now insulting you in your own council. What would you have me do?”
Sayna swallowed, and for a second, her mind raced. Then she hit upon something.
“He sides with Amber.” She looked at the mouse. “You said so, didn’t you?”
He curled his lip at her. “I did.”
Sayna looked to Indigo. “Then let him. Let him share in Amber’s fate like those of her own court who approve of her. If he does not wish to be in our court, he doesn’t have to.”
She sat down, feeling a swell of pride at having salvaged that. It got better when Torrin slowly nodded.
“That seems fitting.”
The mouse pinned his ears, glaring at Torrin. Indigo shrugged. “If you’ll allow that, I would be more than happy to oblige.”
She turned to Torrin, asking, “Milord, what do you think?”
“Let him be tried with Amber.” Tynek said, utterly deadpan. “I do not want creatures like this in my court.”
While perhaps improper, Sayna couldn’t disagree with Tynek’s sentencing. She just nodded.
Indigo waved a paw at Fiske. “Very well. Take him away.”
As he was led out, the mouse bared his teeth at them. “Weak. You’re nothing like the tales. If this is the best the Luke house has, it’s pitiful.”
Fiske cuffed him over the ears before they disappeared from the doorway.
The last mouse to be brought in was nowhere near so problematic. He was much like the first, unsure of the idea of a vermin court, but willing to admit his own wrongdoing. When Indigo sentenced him to five lashes, he nearly melted like the others. Clearly, they’d expected much worse. 
Once he’d been led away, Indigo sighed. “Well. That’s done then. Now I suppose we’ll just have to wait for Amber’s trial to begin.”
Sayna nodded, then asked, “When do you think that will be?”
“Not until Bella is ready.” Indigo stood, stretching a bit. “Which will be at least another day.”
Sayna frowned. What was she supposed to do until then?
Indigo bowed. “My king, My queen, lord, and lady. Thank you for consulting with me. I must be off though, there is much to be done in preparing our army. If you would, I would be grateful for you coming to inspect after lunch.”
She smiled. “Most of them truly want to see the son and daughter of the Lukes.”
Sayna just absently nodded. Lunch. When… had she actually eaten lunch last? She tended to eat only supper. And now she never even got hungry in between, with the Borealis.
Indigo walked from the room, though two guards stayed.
After a moment, Rose asked, “Why don’t we all go eat together? It would be a nice change.”
Sayna shrugged, then stood. “I don’t know if I’ll eat. I’m not hungry. But I’ll go with you.”
Rose frowned. “Does that have to do with your… um… condition now?”
“The fact I’m dead? Probably. I need to eat, just not as much.”
Thankfully, Rose decided not to press it. The others stood, and they began making their way toward the kitchen. Rose and Tynek fell into step as usual… the question was when did they not… and Sayna found herself walking by Torrin.
Which she didn’t mind, in fact, she rather liked it, it just brought up unpleasant existential thoughts. 
They needed to talk. Before the battles started in earnest, before mistakes were made and she lost him forever.
Just… not here. Not around Rose.
“Hey.” Sayna said, before she could think to stop herself. “Would you talk to me tonight? It’s important.”
Torrin raised an eyebrow, and asked, “Not now?”
Well, she couldn’t go back on her decision. “Uh… not in front of others.”
She pointed at Rose’s back, muttering, “Not in front of Rose. We could meet for a duel, or something.”
“The gardenhouse is a good place for those.” Torrin remarked, seeming to get the point. “After supper?”
“Yeah.” Sayna said, then folded her paws behind her back, tried to act nonchalant, and had to ponder if she was going to ruin everything.
Probably.
She didn’t eat anything for the midday meal, in fact, she sat in silence and just listened to the flow of conversation around her. She… was doing the right thing, wasn’t she? By addressing how Bloodwrath affected her in relationships. Because she hadn’t with Gruvan, and that had ended miserably.
This was the responsible course of action.
And if he couldn’t wait or understand… he would be safer if he left. But that was the hardest part. She didn’t want him to leave.
In Kotir, she’d let it slide, pushed it from her mind as she focused on everything else. Still, Sayna knew hoping the issue would go away wasn’t an option. She had to face it this time… only now it was a lot harder.
In the early evening, Sayna did ride with Tynek to survey Indigo’s training grounds, though Rose said she wanted to help Germaine and Torrin excused himself back to the library.
That made Sayna feel even more guilty about what she would have to tell him tonight. He was going out of his way to help her in a likely impossible task.
“You are thinking.” Tynek said it to her as more an observation than a question as they rode through Indigo’s makeshift camp, a clearing with a few tents and some roped off arenas.
“Is it so obvious?” Sayna asked.
Tynek shrugged. “I know when you are thinking. I can tell.”
Sayna sighed, and smiled at some of her army, who were staring at them. 
“Are you afraid?”
Sayna turned back to Tynek, asking, “Afraid? Of what?”
“Of being…” He made his exasperated face, the sort he did when he didn’t know a word. “I was afraid of being with Rose too. That is my point. This is about Torrin.”
Sayna quickly looked to Dancer, then relaxed when she saw her friend was happily chatting with Wildfire as they walked side by side.
“Maybe.”
“It is… trust.” Tynek nodded to himself. “Yes, that is the word, trust.”
Sayna raised an eyebrow. “Bloodwrath is not to be trusted, Tynek.”
He shook his head, scrunching up his nose. “Not Bloodwrath. Rose. I have to trust Rose. That she understands now, and that she will be… wise about these things. If I could not do that, I would always be afraid.”
Sayna just blinked. 
At last she surmised, “So you think I should trust him to use common sense?”
“If you want to be with him.” Tynek said that like it was the most logical thing in the world.
Which he might not be wrong about.
“I know. I’m what scares me, though.”
Tynek gave her a tiny smile. “I do not find you frightening. Ignasa does not either.”
Sayna found herself forced into shocked silence, and Indigo interrupted them before she could gather her thoughts enough to respond.
The rest of the time was spent observing some of Indigo’s training, and Sayna had to admit, most of the creatures she saw looked far more comfortable with quarterstaffs and swords than they had at the festival. 
She noticed the one called Rowan winning most of his duels. 
“Indigo?” Sayna asked, pointing to Rowan as he swept his opponent’s legs from beneath him. “What do you think of that one?”
“Young Rowan? He’s dedicated. He learns quickly, and truly wants the best for this land, so far as I can tell.” Indigo nodded to herself as she talked. “He will do well so long as his enthusiasm doesn’t get him killed.”
Sayna watched as he straightened up with a grin, then extended a paw to the creature he’d bested.
“You did say you needed help, didn’t you?” Sayna asked. “Maybe you could give him a low position, see what he does with it, and increase his rank if he does well. We need more captains.”
Indigo nodded, ears bobbing with her head. “That’s not a bad idea, my queen. I’ll try it, and with several of the others. We could use some sargents around here.”
Sayna paused, then looked to Tynek. He shrugged. “I think it is fine.”
“Very well then.” Indigo said. “It will be done.”
As they walked to the area where creatures were practicing mounted combat, Dancer glanced up at Sayna. “Good call. You’re getting better at all of this.”
Sayna took a deep breath of chilled air. 
And she smiled. “Thanks.”
After Indigo had given them the full tour of her small camp, Sayna found herself back at Brockhall with very little to do.
Was this what peace would be like? Sitting around with no wars to fight? Or was she just restless because she felt there was nothing being done in a time when so much should be happening?
That was probably it. Still, that worry nagged at the back of her mind.
What would she be if the one thing that had seemed to define her life was suddenly just… gone?
When evening finally came, Sayna pulled the hood of her gray coat up and slipped from Brockhall. One of the rabbit guards insisted they were coming with her if she planned to leave the fortress, and Sayan reluctantly allowed it. There was the matter of Ferran still likely wanting his son back. But she highly doubted one guard would be able to stop the fox.
Or all her guards, actually.
Maybe they hadn’t picked the best meeting place. But there wasn’t time to change it now.
She followed the paths of the garden, finding them easy to recall now, where they’d baffled her before. A thin layer of frost sparkled on the browning foliage like a million tiny stars, glittering endlessly in the evening light.
The sun was setting sooner than it once had.
Winter neared, and Sayna resented it’s coming. This wasn’t how everything had been supposed to go.
She said nothing to her guard until they neared the gardenhouse, where she ordered, “Wait here for me.”
“My queen…”
She fixed him with a glare. “I will be fine. I’ll call if I need you.”
He didn’t look happy, but sat on the bench outside, keeping his long ears cocked intently forward.
She walked into the old garden house, worn stones sparkling with frost in the light streaming through the holes in the roof.
It was empty. 
She’d been early to a meeting? That was a first. 
Sayna decided to look around, since there wasn’t much else to do. 
Cracked earthen pots hid in the wall’s shadows, their plants long dead, some of them shattered or crumbling. A rusted metal chair sat on what looked to have once been a covered porch, though the roof was long gone. And outside of that, there wasn’t much. Just browning plants creeping through the floor stones.
The step of a boot made her look up, and sure enough, Torrin stood in the doorway.
Sayna didn’t know whether she should smile nervously, or say something, and in that moment she fully understood what this might appear to be to her guard. She… really hadn’t thought this through, had she?
“I found… something.” He said, holding up an old book, small, tattered, and plain. “It’s not much. And it’s crumbling, but it was the only mention of Bloodwrath I saw.”
Sayna blinked at him as he walked closer and held out the ancient book. She wordlessly took it as he said, “It had actually been pushed behind other books, at the back of the shelf. Be careful, several pages crumbled when I touched them.”
“How… long did it take to find this?”
He shrugged. “I didn’t have much else to do. And discovering the secret of controlling Bloodwrath is highly important. For you, and Tynek… and everyone else.”
Sayna looked at him for a moment, before gently brushing some dust from the book, and ever so carefully lifting the cover. It was in the old script, its pages more than yellowed, they were turning brown and disintegrating at the edges. Sure enough, when she tried to lift the first brittle page, a piece snapped off in her paw.
“This is… ancient.”
“Oh yes. From how it was, I think it might have just been set there and forgotten.” Torrin said. “It seems to be a journal, from all I can tell. But it’s so old, the wording is strange. This is the old script… a long time ago.”
Sayna carefully closed the book, a smile spreading across her face. “I’ll study it. I’ll write down whatever I can.”
“You’re going to find that writing difficult.” Torrin sighed. “I can hardly understand it. There are letters in it I don’t think we even use anymore… even in the old script itself. That can’t be less than three hundred years old… honestly, it’s probably more like four or five.”
Sayna pricked her ears up. “Is this the writing of an old Luke, then?”
That would be exciting.
Torrin shook his head. “I really can’t say. All I know is I did find the phrase ‘fearg fola’ in it several times, even if it’s spelled oddly. Still, I’m certain that’s what it is.”
Anger of blood. The old term for Bloodwrath.
Torrin stretched a little, rubbing his neck. “Gah. I think I pulled something, I was bent over that thing for so long. Anyway. That wasn’t why you wanted to meet me.”
Sayna froze, holding the book. Oh. That.
“I… uh… this…”
Torrin glanced around, before pointing to the crumbling stairs. “Do you want to… sit down or something? You seem…”
He paused, and Sayna had to wonder if he was going to say ‘upset’.
“Troubled.”
Sayna sighed, before walking to the steps, plopping down on the sixth one up, and leaning against the wall. She made sure to still hold the old book carefully. Torrin sat on the step to below hers, and said nothing.
Finally, Sayna said, “I want to make sure we… are on the same page before these battles start in earnest. Because I don’t want to hurt you.”
He stayed quiet, and she stared up at the broken ceiling. “I have too many emotions invested in you. You saw what I nearly did to Amber yesterday over a few insults. Emotions and I… are not good friends. I usually keep them down, caged even. But that’s harder… in general now. But especially with you.”
“You think being with me would make you unstable, in other words.” Torrin surmised, nodding… a bit reluctantly.
“I don’t know what would happen.” Sayna looked back to the light of sunset filtering through the broken ceiling and upper windows. “But I fear how many might have to die for me to learn.”
She forced herself to meet his gaze. “I don’t really want to spend my life all alone. I could do it. But I’ve done it too many years already.”
Sayna tightened her grip on the book. “Too much emotion makes me unwieldy. To little makes me uncaring. Being with others makes me determined not to lose them, to not go back to that void I used to live in. Being alone makes me dangerous, and being close to someone makes me dangerous. I don’t know what to do.”
Had she ever actually vocalized that?
And she’d basically come back from the dead for this creature. He wasn’t all of it, but he was a part of it.
“In my experience, you are simply dangerous.” Torrin said, smirking weakly. “I fear I don’t mind that like a sane creature should.”
“The last time I tried this, I killed the boy.” Sayna said, in a rush.
He nodded. “I took that into account.”
Torrin paused, adding, “And yes. I know, I really am crazy.”
Sayna curled up a little, holding the small book close. The book that might actually have an answer.
“If I had wanted to go, I’ve had plenty of opportunity.” Torrin said, with a little shrug. “But correct me if I’m wrong, you never truly wanted to be with your friend from the north?”
“No.” Sayna said dully. “He wanted a calm life farming after a heroic adventure or two. He wanted me to change… settle down I suppose. And I was… in no way ready to even consider any of that nonsense back then.”
She paused. “Not that… this is nonsense… I’m bad at this.”
Torrin smiled just enough to show the glimmer of fangs. “I don’t want to change you.”
“But Bloodwrath…” Sayna began.
“Isn’t you.”
Sayna stared, and the world blurred for a second. Torrin sighed, and looked away. “Again. I probably approached this too quickly. I can back off. Maybe after this war, there will be something.”
Sayna nodded, but even as she did, she said, “I don’t want that. I know it’s right, and logical, and smart, and… everything. If I can bind Bloodwrath, then everything would be fine. I would be normal… for the first time. I would lose her power, but that’s a small trade. I would finally learn who I even was.”
She stared at him, finally saying, “But you help me.”
Sayna held the book gently, yet close. “You listen to me, I don’t even know why. And I don’t want to figure this out alone.”
She looked away, “Ignasa knows I’ve broken too much trying that.”
“Maybe simply accepting reality and facing it head-on is the best approach?” Torrin asked. 
Sayna blinked. “Is that even ok? Is it ok to keep at this, to keep going forward… surely there’s a catch. You think if we just continue on as we are, it will just… work out?”
“I can promise nothing, but one thing really must change for that to work at all.” He reached out, and took one of her paws. “An tusa mo chailín?”
Sayna stared at him, dazedly. “That’s… all it takes?”
He shrugged. “Well. Maybe not, but it might help to just make everything official. That way no one has to wonder.”
What to even say? That… wasn’t what she’d been expecting of tonight. Here she’d been thinking this was doomed to be at least a temporary goodbye. Tynek’s statement about trust came to mind, and she swallowed. Did she trust this mouse she’d known at best five months? This… was moving too quickly. 
But at least he’d said nothing of marriage like Gruvan, so that was promising.
And she’d asked for this.
The thoughts rushed through her mind as she sat frozen for a moment. But Ignasa had approved, yes, Ignasa himself, and there was no heavy feeling of dread, no tightening of her lungs like there had been with Gruvan.
Finally, she looked up to meet those eyes that were so unfairly beguiling. “Is féidir.”
He grinned. Sayna held in the urge to nervously do that too. “You’re unreasonably happy about this. You do realize I’m a Luke. You do realize you just asked to formally court a Luke.”
“I’d dare not forget.”
He pressed her paw to his muzzle, and Sayna just blinked. That was the first time she hadn’t died inside when someone had kissed her paw.
Torrin stood, and she slowly did too. Were they supposed to kiss or something, now?”
But he just twined his claws through hers, and said, “We should probably return before the light is all gone. Who knows what roams in the dark.”
Ferran.
But Sayna just nodded. 
She tightened her grip on his paw, and felt through her mind for any of the sensations of terror she arguably should have. But… there was none. Worry for the future, yes. But panic at her actions… that was oddly missing. 
They walked out into the growing dusk, where the shadows lengthened, and the frost sparkled, and Sayna’s guard stared at them like he didn’t know what to think.
And Sayna simply motioned that he should follow as she and Torrin walked past.
She looked up and met Torrin’s gaze. 
He grinned, and she grinned, and for once, Sayna found she felt no need to explain herself.
She’d been right, what she’d said at her coronation. So she said it again.
“Let them make their guesses.”
== Chapter 54 To Kill a Queen ==
The meeting clearing was filled to bursting, there were at least as many as when Sayna had stood for her trial. Squirrels sat in trees all around, and Sayna noted with concern, that many otters and mice were glaring at them with open distaste. Was this going to be a repeat of what befell the vermin court?
I won’t let it.
Bella had waited until the next evening to call the council together. 
The crowd parted for Sayna and Tynek, as they walked through, Torrin and Rose just behind them. Sayna could feel the cold metal of her crown on her head, and it seemed heavier than normal tonight.
The choices she would be forced to make were harsh ones.
Warthorn already sat on his throne, Spring by his side. Both father and daughter wore full armor, and war-paint too. Needless to say, Sayna could guess the otter’s feelings as to Amber’s actions.
Sandingomm sat on a wooden chair, more stool than throne, right in front of her broken one. Gingivere sat on an actual stool on her left, and Brek stood at her right. 
That… was an odd sight. But Brek seemed content to be there, in fact, he almost looked proud. No, Sayna decided. He did. 
Sayna climbed the two stone steps to her throne, and sat. She then realized she’d probably plopped herself down too informally, but there wasn’t much to be done about that now. Torrin took his place on her right, while Rose stood on Tynek’s left. Sayna watched as she quickly started a conversation with Spring.
After some waiting, filled with shuffles, mutters, and what sounded like a few actual scuffles, Bella strode through the crowd. Her blue silk dress rippled around her legs like actual water, and she held a familiar wooden box under one arm. 
Her binding rings.
Sayna shuddered slightly, remembering those. And Gruvan’s father.
Bella reached her throne and sat with measured elegance as always, though she seemed… stiffer than usual.
Sayna found the cold storminess in the lady’s eyes made her stomach feel a little hollow.
That was more than anger, and in no way hatred. Just a brokenness, overlaid with acceptance. Like she knew what she would have to do, and despised her role in it.
Silence in no way filled the clearing, but it blanketed the assembly of leaders. 
Sayna looked to the squirrel throne, eerily empty. Who would represent them, when their queen was the one on trial?
Eventually, Argulor swooped from the thinning canopy above and dropped down to his perch on the back of his throne, though he almost didn’t fit anymore. He certainly hadn’t doubled in size, but he’d gained at least four feet. Maybe five.
Bella stood as he landed, saying, “The meeting of the council will come to order.”
All voices in the immediate vicinity fell silent, and the hush spread over the crowd like a blanket. Sayna felt her stomach twist a little.
Bella waited a moment, then said, “By the overwhelming majority, the squirrels have called upon former general, and advisor to the princess, Birch. He will represent them in this matter.”
She held a paw out. “Come forward.”
There was a rustle, and Birch dropped from a tree, landing elegantly. He then walked stiffly to Amber’s throne, and with a rustle Sayna could clearly hear in the eerie quiet, he sat on it.
The red squirrel kept his head high, his ears stiffly up, though Sayna imagined they wanted to pin against his neck. She knew her’s would, in his situation. She looked around for Redfarl, and saw the young squirrel princess standing near the front of the crowd, a silver squirrel and what looked to be a ferret standing on either side of her.
Bella’s voice was a heavy thing, laden with a bitter sound. “If we are all assembled, bring forth the offender.”
Warthorn looked to Spring, who nodded and strode off, into the crowd.
Sayna could feel a slight stinging in her eyes, though she wasn’t sure from what. But the very air of the clearing laid on her chest like a pile of bricks, and she knew she wanted to be far, far away from here.
Claws wound through hers, on the armrest of her throne. She blinked up at Torrin, a bit of the discomfort fading now that she had something else to focus on. 
He offered her a weak grimace, something Sayna guessed was intended to resemble a smile, even if it fell flat. She nodded ever so slightly, and tightened her grip on his paw. No, it wasn’t her trial, which she was grateful for. But Amber had been queen since before the Greeneye occupation.
The crowd shuffled, and Sayna looked up as it parted. Spring walked back through, a number of armored otters behind her. And with them was Amber, paws actually bound in front of her with chains. 
She looked disheveled; hair a mess, tail somewhat matted, fur seemingly rubbed the wrong way with no care taken to fix it. And her eyes glowed with a maddened fury that made the crowd shuffle away whenever she fixed her glare on them.
Spring returned to her father’s side, and Amber was deposited in the crescent of thrones, ears pinned to her skull like they’d been sewn down and teeth barely covered by twitching lips.
Sayna shuddered when the squirrelqueen met her gaze with palpable loathing, even from here. 
That mindless rage, a thoughtlessness, a brokenness. How many times had Sayna seen it in her own eyes, when she dared look into a reflective surface too soon after Bloodwrathing? 
But this wasn’t Bloodwrath.
This was simply Amber. And somehow, even after everything, Sayna found a shred of pity in her heart for the mad queen of Mossflower.
Because she’d seen that brokenness in herself. An unexplainable sense of wrongness that made sane creatures fear and wise ones run.
 
Torrin squeezed her paw slightly, and Sayna let out her pent up breath when Amber turned her withering glare to Bella. She spit at the raccoon’s paws, and had surprising accuracy for being so far away. 
“You. You’ve been planning this for years. You’ve always hated me.”
“You did this to yourself.” Bella’s voice sounded thick. Almost as though she held back tears. “I tried to keep you from it. But how can I save someone who doesn’t want to be saved, who doesn’t think they’re in need of help? Do not turn this upon me, Amber.”
Amber actually fell silent for a moment, before looking away and glaring balefully at Sandingomm and Gingivere.
As if they’d done any of this. Sayna couldn’t help that slightly resentful thought.
Bella straightened up, inhaling deeply, and Sayna found she had to admire the lady for how swiftly she collected herself. “Amber, queen of the court of squirrels, Lady of Hran-forias. You stand accused of multiple accounts of high treason against the union of Mossflower.”
Amber stared sullenly at the ground, tail flicking up and down with nervous energy.
Actually, Sayna decided, it was more of a fury-driven energy. Really, Amber seemed to be the one creature moving, while the rest of Mossflower might as well have been holding their breaths. Even she was doing it. Torrin was kind enough to let her keep holding his paw, and that helped, even if only slightly.
“Coercing troops of two courts not your own to commit treason against their own generals.” Bella said. Sayna noticed she’d pulled out a list.
“Multiple counts of intentional deception of your fellow leaders. Acting, on several distinct occasions, without the majority vote of your fellow leaders. Commiting needless violence without the majority vote. Recruiting another leader’s troops without approval; two counts. Setting fires potentially dangerous to allies, again, without the majority vote. Abandoning your fellow leaders for your own agenda, and…”
Bella took a breath. “Attempted murder of one of your fellow leaders, and first degree murder of another. How do you plead to these charges?”
Amber bared her teeth, pointing a chained paw at Sayna. “She’s not dead!”
“That’s beside the point.” Bella folded her list, setting it on the arm of her throne. “You shot her through the neck so close your arrow was almost touching her. We all saw it. Much of the army did too. There are… many witnesses, Amber.”
“I was defending myself!” Amber snarled. “She attacked me!”
Torrin’s paw tightened slightly, and Sayna glanced at him to find he was baring his fangs in Amber’s direction.
“Well, technically…” Sayna said softly to him, “She’s not wrong.”
He opened his mouth, probably to protest, but Bella spoke instead. “Queen Sayna attacked you in defence of a fellow leader; an act I commend.”
Amber curled her lip at Sandingomm. “That’s no leader. That’s a cat, a stray mongrel, and I won’t recognize it.”
Bella sighed, adding, “I suppose that adds failure to uphold a majority vote to your already lengthy list of crimes. Amber, do you even realize the position you’re in right now?”
“I realize you’re all vermin-loving fools.” Amber snarled, a gutteral sound as she fixed her glare on Sayna. “Some of you literally. And I refuse to stand by while you destroy what I’ve fought so long to hold the pieces of together!”
“You’ve destroyed us!” 
Sayna jumped as Warthorn stood in a single movement. His yellow eyes glowed with many things, but betrayal was the one Sayna saw most clearly.
“We had a chance.” Warthorn clenched his paws. “One chance to retreat and attack again. And you ruined it! What did you think burning a few insignificant towns could accomplish? What did you really think you were accomplishing, who did you think you were saving? Because you threw away the one advantage we had!”
Amber bristled as there were shouts of agreement from the crowd. She yelled above them. “And what was that? Tell me, what advantage do we have? They’ve taken everything!”
She pointed at Sandingomm, and Sayna noticed the cat simply raise one eyebrow.
Warthorn growled when he spoke, cracking with anger. “We were confined, in the kitty queen’s mind. She could focus on Distemper, she’d never expect a full scale attack from us. Well she knows better now, doesn’t she?”
As his snarl faded, silence fell, and with it the cold claws of doom. 
Even Amber’s expression changed from raw fury to a bit of actual shock. Like maybe, she was only now starting to see the foolishness of her actions.
A whimper came from the crowd, then more. Bella held out a paw, calling, “Peace! All is not lost. And tonight we focus on the matter of Amber, not Tsarmina.”
She turned to Amber. “Do you understand even a fraction of what you have done now?”
“I…”
For once, Sayna found, Amber seemed to be at an actual loss. The pity was it took so much to bring her here.
You’re not one to judge. Said the voice in her mind. Which Sayna could not counter.
Amber bristled again. “Well, I wouldn’t have felt like I had to if you’d just dealt with those cats to begin with. With all these vermin traitors!”
Sayna felt a flare of anger when the squirrelqueen turned a dagger-filled glare on Torrin, and by proximity, her too. Sayna felt less pity for Amber… she was truly accomplished at destroying the shards of understanding Sayna had for her.
“Amber.” Bella rubbed the side of her head. “You are the one standing trial for high treason, and to multiple crowns. As a whole, your creatures have rejected you, and the few who do not will share in your fate. Do you understand?”
For a moment, Amber said nothing, nor did she move. 
Sayna could hear the occasional cough or whisper from the crowd. Finally, Amber lifted her chin. “So you’re going to kill me? Is that what you’re saying? Oh, I’m sure you’d all love that. You’ve been against me from the start!”
“I was never against you!” Bella’s voice cracked, and Sayna winced. “And I would hate that, especially because I would be the one tasked with delivering the blow! But you stand accused of multiple counts of treason, Amber, queen of the squirrels. So how do you plead?”
The silence could be felt, and drastically too. Sayna was certain now, that all creatures held their breath, waiting for the answer. 
Not that it would change much. 
She could feel Torrin’s paw around hers’, but she kept her gaze fixed on Amber, and Amber alone.
The squirrelqueen actually took a step back.
Had this all been a game to her? Or had she forgotten that laws still applied to her, queen or not. Sayna could easily see that happening. Amber looked around, and Sayna found she had stood in those boots before. Staring at the angry eyes of a crowd bent on her destruction.
Though Amber might have done a bit more to earn this.
Even still, Sayna could feel it, that caring. That desire to understand. She shoved it down. This was Amber. And Amber was not sorry.
She proved that a second later. 
“I may have committed some of the actions you claim, but you drove me too this!”
“So you admit your guilt.” Bella said.
Amber flicked her brush of a tail, snarling, “Your refusal to act as you should in a war forced my paw. Someone had to do something!”
“Lassie.” Argulor spoke for the first time. “We were doing something. It just wasn’t what you fancied, was it?”
Amber bared her teeth, but Bella held up a paw. “Enough. Amber. Guilty or innocent, there’s only two choices.”
Amber said nothing, and she looked around with the eyes of a cornered feral, a primal desire to bolt. But there was not escape. That Sayna knew well. 
Finally, the squirrelqueen spat. “To you, I suppose I am guilty.”
“Under the law.” Bella corrected. “Upon which our land sits, are you guilty or innocent. You know them as well as I. Your father taught you, this I remember, so you understand this.”
Amber lifted her chin, though Sayna noticed her jaw tremble. Or maybe that was just her grinding her teeth. “Fine. I am guilty under the law of those things, aside from attempted murder of a fellow leader. Because that cat is no leader, nor will I ever see her as such.”
Sayna glanced at Sandingomm, who stuck her tongue out at Amber. Gingivere quickly grabbed her paw and shook his head, message clear. Don’t. You’re not helping.
Sayna could almost hear him say that, in her imagination.
There was a single moment where Sayna felt slightly better about her improved sense of what was proper behavior for a queen. 
Bella took a deep breath. “On the count of coercion of the soldiers of other courts into rebelion, who among us wishes to testify?”
Warthorn stood instantly, snapping, “She convinced twenty of my soldiers to turn against me in this matter, all of whom have been soundly punished for their actions.”
There was a moment of silence, and in it, Sayna found all the assembled leaders and replacements, in the case of Birch, were looking at her and Tynek. Right, the court of mice had been affected by that too. She stood, saying, “And ten of my soldiers chose to follow her, one of which will not recant or even consider the wrong of his decision. His fate is now with her.”
Murmurs rang out, not too loud, and Sayna sat back down on her throne’s chilly rock. Night was rapidly falling, trees lit with lanterns. Sayna shivered slightly, and Torrin closed his paw over hers again, as she’d let go to stand up.
That truly was nice, something to ground her in this madness.
Bella nodded, turning to the crowd. “And would any of the generals like to back these claims?”
Indigo stepped forward instantly. “Milady! I second what the lady Sayna has said.”
Spring was next. “Aye, and I’m backing Lord Warthorn in this.”
“Very well. With the evidence, who on this council finds Amber guilty of inciting rebellion? Raise…”
Tynek raised his paw before she could finish. Everyone else joined it moments later, Argulor with a talon. Bella nodded. “Very well. By her own mouth she does not deny this guilt, and the council has found it to be so. On the count of lying to fellow leaders for the purpose of her own agenda not voted upon by the council… would any like to confirm this?”
Rose stepped forward. “I will. She told me she was taking soldiers to help her fellow leaders… when she really planned to abandon them.”
A hush fell over the crowd for a moment, before several yells of fury rang out.
Bella held up a paw. “Peace!”
She folded her paws before her again, asking, “Any others?”
Dancer moved at the front of the crowd, saying, “Yes, she lied to me too, in order to leave her fellow leaders in a very haunted castle and return to her army.”
Bella let the silence drag on a moment, before saying, “Who of the council finds Amber guilty of abandoning her fellow leaders in a moment of need and lying to them and their creatures?”
All paws… and talon… raised.
Bella nodded. “So it is. The council finds Amber guilty of these accusations.”
She took a deep breath. “On the matter of endangering our entire army with fire without the consent of the council…”
Several yells of “Guilty!” Rang from the crowd. 
Bella groaned. Sayna truly felt bad for the lady, this had to be hard enough as it was. Warthorn stood, calling, “There will be order in this court. Be silent!”
That did, admittedly, work quite well. 
Bella nodded gratefully to him. “As there are hundreds of witnesses…”
She paused. “Do any deny it?”
There was dead silence. A few coughs, yes, but a complete absence of voices. Bella sighed. “Very well. Who on this council finds Amber guilty of endangering the entire Mossflowerian army combined?”
Again, all paws raised. Sayna joined in just as quickly.
“I see.” Bella said. “The council finds Amber guilty of this crime.”
She took a deep breath. “For these acts alone, her title can rightfully be taken from her. Is there discussion?”
Warthorn stood. “She has used her power and influence to endanger not only her court, but all of Mossflower.”
Argulor nodded. “She has betrayed the oaths she made when her crown was bestowed to her.”
Birch stood, speaking for the first time. “She has harmed the squirrels as queen. Not only has she made us vile in the eyes of our fellow Mossflowerian’s, she has not lent an ear to the common needs of her creatures and has… ruled harshly. We as a court deny her our loyalty. Let it be known to all we do not share her views.”
Sandingomm shrugged. “I guess she won’t care what I got ta say, but I think ya all know.”
There was silence, heavy and long, before Bella asked, “Does the court of mice have anything to add?”
Sayna moved to stand, but Tynek did instead. “She has treated all around her poorly.”
Something clicked in Sayna’s mind. She stood, staring Amber down. “And she does not regret it, does she?”
For one moment, Sayna could almost imagine Amber hesitated. Then she curled her lip. “What have I to regret in this matter? No more than you in your choice of lovers. I stood for my kingdom and my beliefs, and what more is there for a queen to do?”
Bella clenched her jaw a moment, before saying, “All who find Amber, lady of Hran-forias, unfit to bear the title queen, raise your paw.”
Warthorn didn’t hesitate, and neither did Tynek. Birch joined, then Argulor, and Sayna raised her paw last. Finally, Bella did to.
There was utter silence before Bella walked forward to stand before Amber, who glared up at her with an unbridled rage. Bella’s voice was heavy, but loud enough for all to hear. “Then with the power granted to me, as the council has decided, I make it. Amber has forfeited her title, and no more is she lady of Hran-forias. And let all be witness, we take her crown.”
Bella reached out, and pulled the filigree circlet of gold plated leaves from Amber’s forehead. “You no longer hold any position, nor shall you sit on our council again. Never again shall any call you queen.”
Amber actually stayed silent as Bella walked to her throne, crown of the squirrels in her paw.
Sayna found she’d been holding her breath when Torrin squeezed her paw, muttering, “Remember to breathe.”
She nodded, and took a deep one.
Bella turned to Birch. “General?”
Birch nodded, and walked toward Redfarl. He knelt before the young, russet haired-squirrel. “My princess.”
Redfarl just nodded, looking overwhelmed. 
Birch stood after a moment. “Your birthright awaits you.”
Sayna knew that look in the young squirrel’s eyes. One of pure fear, a frozen indecision. She felt that, moment before she’d been crowned, and she’d had none of these circumstances. 
But after a moment, Redfarl grabbed Birch’s paw, and he blinked in surprise, but he didn’t forbid it. They walked before Bella, and Sayna cast a glance at Amber. 
Seething… wasn’t quite a strong enough word to describe her demeanor. Still, at least she did not say anything.
Birch bowed to Bella, and Redfarl haltingly did the same.
“Milady Bella, High judge of Mossflower, I present to you Princess Redfarl of the court of squirrels, rightful heir to the throne of Hran-forias.” Birch straightened up as he said it, though Redfarl did not.
It wasn’t hard to pity her, with her subtle shaking. She was attempting not to show it, but her frame was completely rigid.
Bella bent down the slightest bit, saying gently, “Redfarl, it is alright.”
Even if her voice betrayed her own stress, Redfarl looked up, and nodded slightly. Bella turned to Birch. “General, what have your creatures chosen?”
“As a whole, they accept her claim.” He said. 
“Very well.”
Bella turned to Redfarl, holding out her mother’s crown. “Milady, I would not deny you a proper coronation under better circumstances. However, for tonight, let it be known that the council recognizes you as representative of the squirrel court, and as proof, I give you the former queen’s crown.”
Sayna didn’t breathe for a moment, as Redfarl took it with shaking paws.
Bella smiled tenderly, sorrowfully. “Take your throne, Lady of Hran-forias.”
She gestured to the squirrel’s throne, and after a moment, Redfarl nodded and walked stiffly toward it. Birch followed. As they walked past where Sayna stood, she noticed Rose smile encouragingly to Redfarl.
The squirrel princess’s steps got surer as she neared her throne, and when she sat on it, a cheer rang from her creatures, seated in the trees all around.
Sayna saw a lot of the other courts joining in.
No one she could see seemed overly sorry to see Amber go.
They exist. Sayna reminded herself of the old mouse. They just know they’ve lost.
“You’re all fools!” Amber yelled from where she stood chained, and crownless. “That’s a kit, you would look to a kit in a time of war?”
Shouts of protest answered, and Bella called, “Enough! Amber, better a kit who will listen than a kit set on rebellion and destruction. At least your daughter may see reason where you do not.”
“She stood for that…” Amber seethed, pointing at Gingivere. “Thing!”
Bella opened her mouth, but Sayna turned as Redfarl stood, tail twitching. “I stood for what was truth! You would have had me lie before all of Mossflower for your agenda, but I’m not a liar like you! I will not ever be like you!”
Her voice cracked with tears as she yelled it, loud enough Sayna was sure most of Mossflower heard.
“Then you’ve already failed!” Amber shouted, and one of her otter guards grabbed her.
“No.” Redfarl said, rubbing tears from her eyes, before sitting. “You have.”
Birch laid a paw on her shoulder, but she reached up and grabbed it instead.
“Be silent Amber.” Bella growled.
Birch lifted his chin, saying simply, “You will not speak to my queen that way.”
Amber stared.
Her tail lashed, and but other than that, she remained completely still. Sayna wasn’t sure if it was possible to die of raw fury, but if it was, she imagined Amber would collapse where she stood.
Bella took a deep breath, before saying, “The council will rest for awhile, before returning to address the other charges against the accused.”
She sat heavily then, and after a moment, put her head in her paws.
The otters dragged Amber away for the time being, and Sayna shook herself, feeling like she’d woken from a long sleep.
After a moment, Rose walked from Tynek’s side, over to Redfarl. They stared at each other for a second, before Rose held out her arms with a small smile. Redfarl leapt up and hugged her, burying her face in Rose’s curly hair. Sayna watched as Rose patted the little squirrel’s back, saying words she couldn’t quite hear, but knew would be ones of comfort or assurance. 
Sayna looked to Torrin, still with his paw wound around hers. “Thanks… I needed that.”
He smirked wryly. “Is it too weak to admit I did too?”
“No.” Sayna smiled a bit. “Amber has always been a lot.”
“Oh I know, she tried to shoot me in our first meeting.” Torrin said.
Sayna paused, then said, “Actually… me too.”
Tynek had his arms crossed, as best he could. He really did seem to be gaining mobility in his right elbow. Sayna turned to him, asking, “Do you think… we should kill her?”
“I have seen many killed for less.” Tynek said, flatly.
Then he paused, and said, “But I do not know. I know what I want. I do not know if it is right.”
Sayna looked up at Torrin, and he shook his head. “She shot you in the neck. I may not have despised her before that… but I do now.”
Sayna shrugged. “But I’m not dead.”
Torrin tightened his grip on her paw, just for a moment. “And what if you hadn’t had the flowers? I’ve already watched you die once.”
“If I hadn’t had the flowers, I wouldn’t be here anyway.” Sayna pointed out.
Torrin gave her a look. “Please don’t remind me?”
“Sorry.” Sayna said. “I probably should be more freaked out over everything that’s happened, I just… I don’t know. I’ve suppressed it, I guess. It’s like… I know all this has happened, I’m just avoiding it, and it still doesn’t feel… well, real.”
She smiled weakly. “If it bothers you, I’ll stop pointing it out.”
Torrin rubbed his free paw down his face. “I’m just… getting used to it right now.”
Rose returned after several minutes of speaking with Redfarl. “She’s really upset. I wish I could help.”
Tynek smiled a small smile. “You did.”
Sayna nodded. “If I were good with words, I’d say something. But I’m afraid I’d freeze up. You on the other paw…”
Sayna paused and looked over at Redfarl, who seemed a little more composed now, as she talked with Birch. “I think that hug was just what she needed.”
Rose smiled then, and nodded. “Well. I tried, anyway.”
Sayna glanced around the other leaders, Warthorn discussing something with Spring, Argulor preening himself, Bella with her head in her paws. Sandingomm, Gingivere, and Brek all seemed deep in conversation too.
“So…” Sayna asked, “Should we talk about what we think… as a court?”
Rose cocked her head. “What do you mean?”
“About Amber. Neither Tynek or Torrin favor her… I don’t either, but I just…” Sayna paused. “I stood trial for murder too. How can they let me off with nothing, and kill Amber?”
Torrin shook his head. “You didn’t intend to murder anyone, did you?”
Sayna looked away. “No.”
“It was Bloodrath.” Rose reached out and clasped Sayna’s free paw, the one Torrin wasn’t holding. “You weren’t… you. You didn’t understand what you were doing.”
“That’s my point.” Sayna said. “How do we know that Amber really knew what she was doing?”
Tynek lifted his chin. “She does not have Bloodwrath.”
Sayna frowned, nodded, then shook her head. “I know, I’m not saying she does, it’s just… Tynek, her eyes. Tell me that dementedness… doesn’t remind you of Bloodwrath. Because to me, it certainly does.”
Tynek paused, then glanced down thoughtfully. 
“I’ve seen it in me.” Sayna took a deep breath. “And yes, she should be punished. Lands Beyond, I think they should have been far harsher in my sentencing. But to just… kill her? I suppose…”
Sayna paused. “I suppose she deserves it. But then, didn’t I?”
“Don’t we all?” Said Torrin, a reluctance in his tone.
Sayna supposed that was true. Rose folded her paws. “I suppose the question is… if we let her go, would she attack us in revenge? Is she willing to change at all, or would she just attack Sandingomm again?”
Sayna shook her head. “I wasn’t thinking of letting her go, I was thinking of putting her in a cell… but I suppose we could not do that indefinitely.”
Tynek looked up. “Could we find out?”
“What?” Sayna asked.
“If she was… not sane. Is there a way?”
Sayna blinked as Tynek said, “If she was, then punish her under law. If she was not… there could be some mercy.”
He took a breath, looking away. “It is not as though I have not earned this thing too.”
Rose let go of Sayna’s paw to grab Tynek’s good one, and she smiled. “You have both grown so… well, not weak at all, just… kind.”
“More understanding.” Sayna said, looking to Bella.
Then she squeezed Torrin’s paw a bit. “I’ll ask Bella. I’ll be back.”
He nodded, letting her go. She walked to the raccoon’s throne, where the lady sat slumped, head still in her paws. Sayna reached out and up, laying her paw on Bella’s forearm. “Lady Bella?”
She looked up, tears reddening her brown eyes.
She rubbed a paw up her face, wiping some away, and did her best to collect the remnants of a composure. “Yes Sayna?”
“We think…” Sayna paused, glancing at the other three marks. “Well, Amber is not always right in the head, is she?”
Bella groaned. “No. She has not been alright since… I…”
More tears. They sat on the rims of Bella’s eyes, and Sayna felt her stomach clench. 
“Since that night.” She offered. “When Verdauga came.”
“Yes.” Bella sounded relieved, like Sayna had lifted a weight from her chest. “At first I thought it was mere greif, anger, an expression of loss like the rest of us. We have never healed… don’t think that. But we bear our scars, we keep on, but something in Amber broke, and keeps breaking. I’d hoped…”
Bella paused. “I wanted to help her.”
She closed her eyes as some tears fell. “But she’d shut me out. She shut everyone out.”
Sayna felt her throat tighten. What would have happened if she had done that?
You tried.
Sayna shuddered, then said, “We… Tynek and I… wonder if maybe… well, maybe she wasn’t truly sane in the moment she tried to kill Sandingomm and… well, me. I killed a creature, after all.”
“You have Bloodwrath.” Bella said dully. “This is very different, Amber has no curse living in her mind, no, this was just what she wanted to do.”
“Bloodwrath is madness.” Sayna said. “I’m sure of it.”
She gripped Bella’s paw a little, saying, “Bloodwrath is corruption, a lie that was spoken. And Amber has been lying to herself since Mossflower fell, hasn’t she?”
Bella looked up, a spark of understanding in her eyes. “For so many years.”
“So… what I’m saying is that maybe it’s not crazy to think that Amber’s own form of this… might behave a little like Bloodwrath. I know she’s not sorry. I know she thinks she’s in the right, and only Ignasa knows why I care as much as I do.” 
She paused. “I shouldn’t. I shouldn’t make any case for her. I should let her get her just rewards.”
Sayna clenched a paw. “Yet somehow… while I don’t want her free… I don’t want her dead.”
Bella was slowly nodding, and Sayna asked, “Is there any way to determine… sanity?”
Bella frowned. “That’s the thing. I’ve never heard of one, outside the obvious cases like Bloodwrath. I don’t know how much binding would even help. As Amber herself so… wisely said, insane creatures don’t have to lie to be wrong.”
The lady shook her head. “I’d just be putting her through more pain with no real guarantee of anything she said.”
Sayna stood there for a moment, before she said, “I suppose, sane or not, the question is if she planned to kill Sandingomm in the beginning. I know I ran at her, but Sandingomm… she had time to think about that.”
For a long time, Bella did nothing.
Then she moved at last, sitting upright and rubbing all her tears off on her sleeve. It took a bit of effort. “If the courts have spoken amongst themselves, it is time we all spoke together.”
Sayna took a few steps back as Bella stood, saying, “Will all leaders gather with me?”
Tynek took a moment to squeeze Rose’s paw, then walked forward, joined by Birch and Warthorn. Sandingomm stood and walked over, subtle limp still visible. Argulor just loomed over them all, making them cast long shadows.
“Queen Sayna has made the point that we pardoned her of murder.” Bella began.
“Lassie.” Argulor interrupted. “You were in Bloodwrath.”
Sayna felt her jaw clench. “I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again. That’s not an excuse.”
“We cannot let her go.” Warthorn said.
“No.” Bella said. “And Sayna isn’t saying that. She’s simply saying that if we spared one creature on the grounds of insanity, it’s only just that we consider it here. With which I agree.”
Warthorn frowned for a bit, but then Sayna saw it melt away. “I suppose she is right in this thing. Amber was once my friend too.”
Sandingomm shrugged. “I mean… I ain’t pleased she tried ta off me, but it ain’t the first time somebody’s tried. I guess I could let it be… if’n she were locked up ferever, cause I’ll bet anythin’ she’ll try it again.”
“Oh, undoubtedly.” Bella said. “In all honesty, she’s a danger to Mossflower and herself. We just had no reason to lock her up that could stand in the court.”
Tynek shrugged. “I am not guiltless. I cannot pass judgements.”
Birch waited until everyone looked at him, then said, “She… is not right in the mind. This I can testify. As much as she has harmed me, I cannot say I wish her dead.”
Bella took a deep breath. “Then we are in agreement?”
There were nods all around, some reluctant, some more accepting. Sayna nodded too, though shortly. She had to wonder if she’d just made the worst decision of her life.
“Very well.” Bella sounded immensely relieved. “Then let us commence the sentence.”
She sat on her throne, and the other leaders walked toward their own seats. Sayna followed Tynek, before wordlessly sitting on her throne. 
The oddest thing was that she’d been the one to advocate for Amber the most.
><><
Brek stood beside Sandingomm’s empty… well, it wasn’t really a throne, but it was the best he and Gingivere had been able to come up with. Sandingomm had gone over to discuss with the other leaders, and Brek could only hope she didn’t say something foolish.
He glanced at Gingivere, and guessed he was thinking the same thing.
They exchanged a glance, and Brek offered a wry smirk. They were doing their best. And he did believe Sandingomm was too. 
He looked across the meeting glade to where Redfarl sat in what had once been Amber’s throne. Birch had walked over to the congregation of leaders, but Embrien and Garavel had joined Redfarl instead. 
That was good. She held Garavel’s paw, and Embrien stroked her shoulder while she said something Brek couldn’t make out from this distance.
Still, he found himself very glad his poor friend didn’t have to sit alone. He would have to go give Redfarl a hug the moment he could, like she had done for him many times. In the darkest moments, she’d been there to smile. Brek supposed it was his turn.
Movement made himself focus on the present as Sandingomm came limping back to her chair, and all the other leaders returned to their seats as well.
“So.” Gingivere asked, “Have they come to a verdict?”
Sandingomm sat, saying, “Yeah, they don’t wanna kill her. She was their friend, I guess. They just wanna lock her up ferever, which I said I was fine with. Sure, she tried ta off me, but ya know. So long as she ain’t able ta again, I don’t really care. She’s got a few pieces loose up there… or that’s the defense fer her, I guess.”
“After she shot Sayna in the neck?” Brek blurted, before thinking.
Sandingomm shrugged. “Yer sister is the one doin’ most a the advocating, kit. Somethin’ bout Bloodwrath an’ I guess feelin’ like she understands Amber.”
Brek held in a groan. Now wasn’t the time for Sayna to start acting like Rose!
But then… did he really want to watch another creature die? He’d be doing plenty more of it soon, hadn’t he had enough?
And Brek found that he had.
Maybe now was a chance for mercy. There had been enough death. 
“The council of Mossflower is called back to order.” 
Bella’s strong voice made Brek look up at her… and it was a long way up, as she stood in front of her throne. “Bring forth the accused.”
In the moments it took to bring Amber back before the leaders, Brek glanced around at them all. All six courts of Mossflower, gathered together and represented. To be fair, Redfarl looked more upset than regal, but that was to be expected. 
Brek found a little more forgiveness in his heart for his father. Yes, he was a liar and a coward, but… he’d never been like Amber.
Maybe after this… Brek should talk to him. He’d been putting it off.
Even Gingivere had said he should talk to Urran. And Brek supposed his Prince was right. At least he still had a father to reconcile with.
The shuffle of the crowd, clink of chains, and steps of guards announced Amber’s arrival. She looked even more disheveled than before, the fur under her eyes was even matted, like she’d been crying.
Did Amber have it in her to cry? Brek found that an odd picture to ponder.
“Amber.” Bella said gravely. “You stand accused of murder, and intent to murder another. How do you plead?”
Amber said nothing for a moment, before Brek saw her tail flick a bit. 
“So what do you plan to do with me?” Her voice sounded tight, like lute strings wound to the brink of snapping. “Kill me? Lock me away forever? Slavery, like that useless old Voh?”
“Amber.” Bella kept her voice even. “How do you plead?”
Random bits of Amber were twitching. Brek noticed it, and felt himself grow even more tense. Her right ear, her left eye, a claw, now and then. At least she was in chains.
She spat in Sandingomm’s direction. “Killing that is like killing a feral. It’s not a crime, so I am innocent.”
Sandingomm leaned toward Gingivere, whispering, “Charmin’.”
“She is a sentient being.” Bella said, sounding angry.
Amber just sneered. Brek felt a little cold. Because he almost believed Amber truly thought she was telling the truth. Like she’d told herself this lie long enough she’d come to actually believe it.
“As if.” Amber barked a harsh laugh. “Like Verdauga was anything more than a raging beast.”
Oh, but he was. Brek couldn’t help the thought that rushed to his mind. So much more. And that was what made him so deadly.
“Yes, Amber.” Bella’s teeth ground together. “He was. And Lady Sandingomm is not he.”
“Lady.” Amber laughed then. 
Brek shivered as she threw back her head and laughed until all Mossflower had to be holding back their own shudders. Brek found himself beginning to agree with Sayna more and more. Amber was nowhere near right in the head.
“If we can call that thing a lady, what’s next? Calling the spawn of Verdauga himself lord? Strip a Mossflowerian born of her title, and give one to some brothel scum from the enemy kingdom? What has Mossflower come to?”
“Amber!” Warthorn barked. “She is Keir’s daughter!”
Amber snorted. “Fine then, call it the spawn of that traitor. Kill me and let it be known that you will fall. Who knows. Maybe it’s better that way. Destroy the last of us who actually care. Weed us out, and let me be the face of the martyrs.”
“You’ll be no one’s martyr, Amber.” Bella bared her teeth a bit. “You are clearly unwell.”
There was silence, for a moment.
Then Amber snorted. “You think I’m insane? You do, you think I’ve lost my mind! I am the only sane creature here! You know what, call me guilty then! Because Yes, I meant to kill that cat, and I’ll have you know I was in full control of mental understanding. Don’t you dare patronize me like this! I am not some doddery old fool going soft in the mind!”
“Silence!” Bella yelled.
Brek had to pin his ears a bit, it was loud enough. He shook them, as Bella turned to Argulor, and the two began talking in low tones. 
It was going to be hard to rule the way they seemed to want to, with those claims. 
Bella turned to Amber. “So you claim sanity.”
“I claim it because I am sane!”
Brek found he hated that gleam, just behind her eyes. An awful, sick, delighted look that hid just behind whatever small charade remained of what once had been a queen.
He flicked an ear as the crowd around began to murmur, and Bella held up a paw. “Peace! The council will deliberate.” 
Brek did not like the barbed glare Amber was aiming at Sandingomm like a loaded bow as the kings and queens of the council turned to each other to discuss this new… development. Brek could see pain in Bella’s eyes, but more so, he could feel it. They were both Prophets, it shouldn’t surprise him, but he felt her frustration, anger, sorrow, hesitation… all coalesced into a dreadful knot of agony.
It was a dull ache in his chest, but none-the-less, it was there. 
A murmur of voices filled the air, low, yes, but from so many voices at once it became a rumble. The entire crowd was talking amongst themselves.
What would become of the mad queen of Mossflower?
Brek looked to her, and found… no one else was, not really. Her guards did, but not the leaders, or their advisors, and very few in the crowd.
Amber on the other paw, glared at them all in turn, and Brek knew that look in her eyes. The look Tsarmina had always fixed upon him, when they’d had to be in the same room. Pure, murderous hatred.
Then, as Brek blinked… in the very moment he did, she moved. 
Amber ducked down, lunging backwards and under the arms of her guards. Then she bolted.
At Redfarl.
Brek reached for his sword, yelling before he even rightfully thought. “Redfarl!”
She looked up, and Garavel and Embrien did too, turning away from the talking leaders to look and him instead.
But he wasn’t the threat. 
And Redfarl wasn’t the target.
Amber leapt into the air, and even across the crescent of thrones, Brek saw the glint of lantern-light on her chains. Chains she gripped in each paw, right where they connected to her manacles. 
Garavel turned, reaching for the short sword at her side. 
But Amber landed practically on her, and Brek saw her flip the chains around the ferret’s neck only seconds before the terrible, very audible crack.
Garavel collapsed, yanking Amber with her, chain still pinned around her neck.
For one moment, silence seemed the clearing’s one and only master, despite the hundreds gathered here.
Amber ripped her chains free, and ran at Embrien.
No.
Brek felt his gasp throughout his entire frame. And he yelled, not words, just unleashed rage.
Not more death he could prevent, not here, not now… not Garavel. Not the creatures he had served beside in their struggle against Tsarmina. He’d led them. He was responsible for them!
Brek drew his sword.
And he didn’t have to imagine.
Like a candle’s flame, he wasn’t, and then he was again. He felt the flicker resonate through his being and he slashed blindly, hoping to land any sort of blow.
His blade slashed through something as his boots hit the ground just in front of Embrien, back to her.
A shriek of pain, a momentary sensation of blackness.
And then the world shattered. 
Yells, orders, the thwack of arrows hitting the ground… madness. Brek sucked in the deepest breath he could, his insides feeling like they’d been arranged wrong, just like before.
Brek’s legs wobbled, then buckled. He fell to his haunches, sword dropping to his side, tip smeared in blood. He felt… far too lightheaded. Far to dizzy. He felt outright sick. It didn’t help that Garavel lay at the base of the throne, eyes fixed open.
That stare. Brek thought he’d been getting better about this. But he’d worked beside Garavel for years. 
Brek wretched on the stone steps he half laid on, his dinner rebelling against him.
His mind raced, desperately struggling to orient him as he strove to keep from doubling over more than he already was. Arms wrapped around him, holding him up. “Come on kit.”
Embrein’s voice was a rough sound, like she only just managed to keep her composure, like she wanted to curl up as he had, but kept herself standing through sheer power of will. “Hang in there. It’s what she’d want. And… thanks. For saving me.”
Brek took a shivering breath, stomach feeling rearranged. He clung to Embrien’s arm around his chest, holding him up, and looked past what Amber had done to the full scene of the council meeting.
Or… what had once been a council meeting.
It was chaos now.
Sayna had drawn her sword, Ignasa’s fire spiraling up her arm, almost to her shoulder.
Warthorn had leapt up, his harpoon was in paw, and fury in his eyes.
Sparks burned the foliage around Argulor’s throne, Sandingomm had stood, and even Gingivere had staggered upright.
Bella held out a blue-coated paw, pulling Amber toward the center of the crescent of thrones in telekinesis. She spread her paw out, forcing Amber to her knees there, and said a single word.
Somehow, it was commanding even if her voice shook. 
“Ceangail.”
Bind.
Magic wrapped around Amber’s legs and arms, fastening her to the ground.
Brek felt himself slump against Embrien then, exhaustion dragging at his limbs. What was wrong with him? He hadn’t even done that much.
Blood dripped down Amber’s right arm, from a gash near her elbow. 
That must have been where Brek’s sword had caught her.
“You think you can chain me? Lock me up forever? Well no chains can hold me! You’ll have to watch your backs every second, I’ll make every one of you pay! The Luke’s halfblood lover is next, and nothing you do will keep me from tearing all of you apart. Take my crown, would you? You’ll all pay tenfold!”
“Amber!” Bella’s voice was guttural, cracking, and Brek was certain he had never in his life heard the lady so furious. She sounded more akin to a feral than her normal, flowing voice. “You are done.”
Embrien gently set Brek down on the steps in front of Redfarl’s throne as Birch stepped down beside them, just sheathing his sword. “Is she…”
“Yes.” Embrien said, voice rough. “What do you think?”
Birch ground his teeth together. “Malimore take that wolf of a squirrel! And to think I still had pity for her!”
Brek found he couldn’t look at Garavel, even though he knew he should. Embrien walked down the two steps to her friend’s side, and knelt there, gently brushing her paw over the ferret’s fixed open eyes.
That made it only marginally more bearable. 
Birch stalked toward Bella, tail twitching. Brek blinked hard, before turning to look at Redfarl. 
She knelt on her throne, frozen, pressed against the back of it. And tears filled her eyes, dripping silently down her cheeks as she gaped at the aftermath of Amber’s fury.
Brek slowly pushed himself upright, every movement still making him queasy. He hobbled up the single step to her, paw against his stomach. 
She looked dazedly at him when he touched her arm, and then flung her arms around him, sliding from her throne as she did so. Brek knelt with her, his own vision swimming as she silently sobbed into his shoulder.
Brek patted Redfarl’s back as he glared at Amber. 
She said nothing, blessedly, though her eyes gleamed and she wore a demented smile, a look of triumph.
Birch discussed something in low tones with Bella. Argulor kept ruffling his feathers. Sandingomm actually held onto Gingivere’s arm, and 
Torrin had an arm wrapped around Sayna. She’d sheathed her sword at some point.
Brek didn’t even feel the normal annoyance when he saw Rose clinging to Tynek. At least she didn’t have to stand there alone.
After a moment, Birch started back towards them. Truly, he stalked, tail lashing with every step. Brek knew he’d never seen the calm squirrel this enraged. 
Not that Brek blamed him.
One glance at Embrien, holding Garavel’s limp paw, her other resting on the ferret’s dark hair, was enough to send fury coursing through his veins. It mixed with his upset stomach and made everything worse.
Birch knelt beside Brek, giving him a grateful smile, albeit a shaking one. Then he rested a paw on Redfarl’s shoulder. “Milady. Please, I know you are grieving. But we must talk.”
She lifted her head, leaving Brek’s shoulder damp.
Her lip trembled, and tears streaked down her cheeks. She looked at Birch, saying softly, “You said… I would save creatures.”
Birch looked like he might cry himself. “You have, and you will.”
Redfarl latched onto him, mumbling, “But Garavel… she watched over me for years. She was always kind, she saved us all in the tunnels.”
Birch’s cheek twitched, and he said, “My princess. Amber attacked… and killed… one of your court. You may enact the Law of Retribution in this case against her.”
Redfarl looked up slowly, asking, “So they would kill her?”
“I think that’s coming no matter what we do, at this point.” Said Birch.
Brek blinked. It was? Hadn’t the council been considering mercy?
But a look around proved that no one looked terribly merciful.
“Garavel was more a mother to me than Amber ever was.” Redfarl said, a strain of hardness to her voice that Brek didn’t think he’d ever witnessed. “Embrien too.”
She looked up at Birch, eyes watery. “But… I don’t want to watch.”
Birch shook his head. “And I do not want that for you.”
Brek took a shaky breath as Birch stood, pulling Redfarl up with him, then against him. He looked to Bella, calling, “Were it not for the creature Amber so senselessly murdered, we would not have our princess today. The court of squirrels calls for Retribution.”
At that, Amber stopped her demented grin.
Bella looked around. “Do any protest?”
No one said a word. Brek noticed even the crowd had gone dead silent.
He forced himself to keep breathing, even if every breath he took seemed inordinately loud against the quiet. Bella held out her paw then, and Brek stiffened as glowing water gathered there, forming her water-blade.
The sword fully formed in the silence, and Birch pulled Redfarl’s head against his chest, covering her ears with his other paw. “Don’t watch.”
She melted against him, legs shaking. 
Brek leaned against Redfarl’s throne, paw against his stomach. He wasn’t sure he wanted to watch this, though he’d seen plenty of executions before. He’d sat through them, even, having to keep his back straight, his face expressionless. But he was already so sick as it was.
Bella walked down the steps, slippers making no sound.
Amber glared up at her, tail twitching. And she said something Brek couldn’t quite hear. 
Bella’s face twisted with what Brek could only think of as every emotion except happiness. And she raised her sword. 
“I never wanted this.”
Her voice, while cracked, was just loud enough for Brek to hear. “You did.”
Brek didn’t look away, as it turned out. Bella slashed her sword down, slicing Amber’s head clean off her shoulders and in a single movement. She was so fast Brek only managed to close his eyes after the action occurred, which left it imprinted in his mind, every gruesome detail.
So he opened his eyes, because keeping them closed made it worse.
Bella’s sword dripped from her paw, melting to liquid on the ground that mixed with Amber’s blood. Brek watched the lady turn stiffly away, all the magic that had been binding Amber drawing back into her, and letting the headless body slump to the ground.
Bella sat on her throne, and Brek knew he could see the shine of tears in her eyes. She opened her mouth, but no words came, and after a second she buried her face in her paws, shoulders shaking, ears pinned.
Warthorn stood instead. “There has been too much death, tonight.”
Brek imagined the otterking was clenching his jaw. “The meeting is adjourned. I doubt any of us can even stand here, much longer. Return to your homes. We will call a war council soon.”
The crowd did not protest. They filed away, breaking off into groups, no laughter or chatter among them as they vanished into the depths of Mossflower, the woods as somber as their occupants.
“I want to go home.” Redfarl whimpered, still clinging to Birch.
He stroked her hair, and Brek noticed she’d never looked up. Birch turned to Embrein, who still sat with Garavel, and the silver squirrel met his gaze, her own glittering. “Go. Take care of her. I will… come soon.”
“Bring her back to Hran-forias.” Birch said gently, motioning to Garavel. “We will honor her as the former queen did not.”
Embrien just nodded. 
Birch led Redfarl away, one arm holding her up. Her tail almost dragged the ground.
That left Brek alone, sitting beside an empty throne in a rapidly emptying clearing. He laid his head against the stone, staring down at Embrien, who just sat there, holding Garavel’s body. She probably would need help to take her away, but Brek doubted he could be of any use. His stomach seemed to be settling out, but it was weak.
After a short time, boots rustled the grass, and Brek looked up as Whegg knelt beside Embrien, laying a paw on her shoulder. Gina walked up the steps to Brek’s side, asking gently, “Is ya alright?”
Brek just shook his head, and she sighed. “I know ya ain’t, but are ya sick?”
Brek nodded, muttering, “Nausea.”
Gina pulled some leaves from her satchel, sitting beside him as she held them out. “Chew on these, they should help.”
Brek did, and though they made his eyes water, his stomach stopped flopping about inside him. Gina folded her paws in her lap, and though he didn’t know Whegg’s lady too well… no one but Whegg did… he managed a smile for her. “Thank you.”
“A course.”
Brek looked up as Gingivere and Sandingomm walked up. Gingivere knelt beside Embrien, and though she didn’t kneel, Sandingomm looked none to pleased. 
Embrien looked up at Gingivere, tears in her eyes. “Prince… I cannot take her from here… I’m not…”
He wordlessly picked Garavel from the ground, cradling her limp form as he stood with some effort. 
“She was a good soldier.” He said it softly. “And I would be dead without her. Without all of you. Of course. It is the least I can do.”
Embrien nodded silently, and Whegg helped her to her paws.
She followed Gingivere as he walked from the clearing. Gina joined Whegg as always, and he wrapped an arm around her, keeping her close by his side. Sandingomm shook her head for a moment, then turned to Brek.
 
And she held out her paw.
Brek stared up at her, then set his tiny one in it. His legs wobbled when he stood, but she steadied him. “Yer a right brave creature, Brek.”
Brek blinked. Was that the first time she’d used his name and not just called him ‘kit’?
“Let’s get out’a here.”
Brek nodded wordlessly as he left by her side. He couldn’t agree more.
==Chapter 55 The Paths we Make==
Sayna sat on a filigree stool, letting Rose braid her hair. Her sister said nothing, and Sayna found herself content to sit in silence. 
What could she say? 
She’d been an idiot. And Sayna couldn’t help but think the happenings of two days past had been her fault. 
Why did I want to save her?
Sayna didn’t manage to hold in her sigh. 
Rose rubbed a paw on Sayna’s shoulder, asking, “Are you blaming yourself for what happened?”
Sayna thought about denying it. But she finally just said, “You know me too well.”
“Don’t.” Rose said, firmly. 
“I shouldn’t have bothered. Why did I try to save Amber? I’m such a fool.”
Rose let her rant, then asked, “Well… why did you? What were you thinking?”
Sayna stared dully into the silver-framed mirror on the wall across from her, watching Rose deftly weave her hair into intricate braids. Finally she said, “I saw myself in her. I saw what I had been, and what fate might befall me.”
Rose held onto Sayna’s hair, but wrapped a paw around her. 
“Oh Sayna.”
She didn’t move for awhile, and Sayna let that be. 
Rose moved after a few moments, and worked on finishing her braiding. Sayna looked down. “I don’t know how I will look her daughter in the eye tonight.”
“I don’t know how she’s going to be ready to accept her crown so soon.” Rose fretted. “After everything. She’s just a little kit!”
“She will because she has to.” Sayna said it flatly. 
But she could not deny the gut-wrenching pity she felt for the young princess.
Rose wound Sayna’s hair into a bun. “I’m sick of all this fighting. I really am. I understand fully; Tsarmina will not leave us be forever, and there is no reasoning with her. But Tynek and I want a family, we want to get married, and I just… wish this was over already.”
“You’re… nineteen.” Sayna said, suddenly remembering that.
“So? Many have married younger.” Rose said. “Besides, I’m nearly twenty.”
Which made Sayna almost twenty-one, if she wasn’t already. She doubted the birthday Urran and Aryah had assigned to her was accurate.
Rose pinned the hair in place and grabbed Sayna’s crown from her dresser as Sayna sighed. “Well. If it’s what you really want, then I cannot argue.”
She paused. “And I wouldn’t. I’ve grown much closer to Tynek; I want you both to be happy. It just seems… rushed, I suppose. That’s all.”
Rose grinned as she set the crown on Sayna’s hea. “Well, there’s you and Torrin now.”
“Yes well, I’m not marrying him yet.” Sayna stood as Rose let go of her hair. “We’re just courting.”
“Formally?” Rose asked.
Sayna sighed, and rolled her eyes, before saying, “Yes.”
Rose bounced with a burst of excitement, a grin spreading across her face. Sayna huffed. “Really, today’s not the day to make a big deal out of it. It’s just not. We are, it’s a fact… let’s move on.”
“I’m not making a big deal of it!” Rose grabbed Sayna’s paw as they walked from her room. “I’m just so happy! My big sister, all grown up.”
Sayna snorted. “Isn’t that supposed to be my line? Since you’re my little sister?”
Rose smiled and stuck her nose in the air.
“You know why it’s not.”
Sayna laughed a little then, and Rose squeezed her paw. “But you’ve grown up so much. And not just because you’re seeing Torrin, you just have. So I can be a little proud.”
Sayna rolled her eyes, but held in her sigh. Yes, she had grown up. And it felt like chains binding her down, forcing her to give up a part of who she was. Oddly, contradictory to all her assumptions, Torrin was the piece that felt the most freeing.
Wasn’t the whole concept of courting and marriage just some new sort of gilded cage? 
But for the first time, Sayna found herself hoping it didn’t have to be.
She’d been locked in enough cages, all her life. Though she supposed she would have to choose which chains to wear at some point.
Still. Maybe… just maybe she could be freer with him than without him. 
And if not, she was already bound to a throne. What did a few more confinements matter, at the end of the day?
“Sayna?”
She shook herself, smiling at Rose. “Yes?”
“You weren’t paying attention. I said we’re here.”
Oh. Sayna nodded as they walked into the kitchen together. “Sorry. I was lost in thought.”
Rose sighed, but gave Sayna’s paw a final squeeze, and then trotted to Tynek’s side. Sayna smiled as her sister grabbed his paw and gave him a peck on the cheek. He gave her one of his little smiles, and Sayna supposed they were sickeningly cute together.
They walked out the kitchen doors together, and Sayna looked around for Torrin. 
She didn’t see him, so she sighed and walked from the kitchen, Indigo falling into step behind her. “My queen, if you’re looking for his lordship, he is outside somewhere. I think he’s riding that kelpie he befriended.”
“Ah.” Sayna nodded. Then she paused. “You knew I’d be looking for him?”
“I assumed. Since we are going to a party where… ahem. Other young nobles of your court will be.” Indigo folded her paws behind her back, and winked at Sayna. “I can’t expressly keep them away from you, as a mere guard. As your fiance, he can.”
Sayna pricked her ears up, before realizing Indigo had a very good point.
“I’ll keep that in mind. I hadn’t thought of it, no, but thanks for pointing it out.”
She paused. “But really? After Amber and… everything? Have they no shame?”
“You are quite beautiful, my queen.” Indigo said, “That, with your standing, is enough to make them flock to you. It happened at the festival, and I’m willing to wager it will be worse now.”
Sayna touched her cheek, where the burn scars had been. “Right. Because I’m not hideous anymore.”
The cold evening air hit her at that moment, and Sayna flipped up the hood of her long, dress-like coat. Wearing a crown made that awkward. But at the very least, she’d worn the Queensword tonight, and donned pants and tall boots. Tradition could find the nearest cliff, because the last two events she’d attended had reminded her why dresses were entirely useless.
She noticed absently, that Indigo now wore a heavy coat over her sleeveless red uniform.
Equines milled about the clearing, and Dancer came trotting toward her.
“Hey. Are you any better?”
Sayna patted her friend’s nose, before vaulting lightly onto her back. “I’m… recovering. How about you?”
Dancer wrinkled her nose in a grimace. “Well… still having nightmares.”
Sayna felt her shoulders slump a little. “Yeah.”
She patted the unicorn’s gray neck. “Me too.”
Approaching hooves mixed with a dragging swish made her look up, to see Torrin on the light green kelpie he’d been riding since… well, after the festival, actually. His hair, while normally unruly, looked especially tousled at the moment.
 
“Where did you go?” Sayna asked.
“Solain wanted to go for a run while we waited.” Torrin patted the Kelpie’s shoulder. “You’re faster than any I’ve ridden, friend.”
Solain grinned that toothy grin of his, one that almost ran behind his eyes, but he still said nothing aloud. Come to think of it, had Sayna heard any of the kelpie’s speak? That one in the swamps had… his voice had been none too pleasant. Maybe that was why they stayed so silent, to not frighten the creatures around them?
Indigo had mounted a horse, and started down a familiar road, one Sayna had ridden before. The road to Hran-forias.
She could recall riding down this road when the trees were green, not brown, a last few clinging to leaves. 
That would make squirrel archers rather obvious, Sayna realized.
“So, did you find anything from the book?”
Sayna looked over at Torrin, riding beside her. She shrugged. “You’re right about it being an ancient form of the old script. None of my father’s books even compare. I thought of asking Bella, but…”
Sayna didn’t feel like she needed to finish that thought. None had even seen the lady since Amber’s trial and subsequent end.
“I wonder if she’s going to come tonight.” Torrin said.
Sayna just shook her head. She truly couldn’t say.
“Can Groddil help you with reading the book?” Torrin asked.
Dancer lifted her head to look back at them. “Groddil can’t read the old script, can he?” 
Sayna shrugged. “No. Again, the books I learned from were my father’s… er, Urran’s.”
“Well then,” Said Torrin, “Why don’t you ask him?”
Dancer didn’t stop walking, but Sayna turned to Torrin, blinking. “Dad?”
“Yeah.” Torrin shrugged. “Weren’t his family the recorders of the court of mice, or something? I know we Velles’s were the generals, but the Vohs were scribes.”
“Dad… never helped me do anything. He’s only hindered me… outside of keeping me alive as a kit.” She nodded. “I owe him that, otherwise they’d probably have burned me as a witch or something. Crazy fools.”
Torrin made a face like he agreed with her in the last bit, and Sayna nodded to herself. “Still. I suppose I could ask.”
He nodded. “I mean, it’s unlikely I suppose. I wouldn’t leave that stone unturned though.”
“No, you’re right. I’ll ask when we get home.” Sayna said. 
She looked up into the thinning foliage of the trees to the gray sky above, and watched her breath spiral upwards in a cloud of frost. Her voice was quiet as she said, “Winter is here.”
“The first snow has yet to fall.” Torrin said. 
He paused. “But yes, it’s certainly growing cold at night. Nothing like the north, though.”
Dancer stopped walking, and Sayna looked ahead. There stood the massive tree, though its moss had grown brown and it’s leaves crunched beneath the hooves of their party. Several squirrels in armor stood at the base of it, lit by the the glow of lanterns in the growing dusk.
There was a crunch beside her, and Sayna turned to see Torrin slide from Solain’s back. He held up a paw for her, and Sayna felt her cheeks get a bit warm when Dancer whinnied laughingly. Still, she took it, and poked Dancer in the shoulder as she slid to the ground. 
Her boots crunched in the thick layer of fallen leaves, a sound that grew quite loud as their company all started dismounting at once.
Sayna looped her arm through Torrin’s as they walked toward the staircase into Hran-forias. Indigo went first, then Tynek and Rose, and Sayna followed them. Several guards brought up the rear, and the squirrels at the base of the tree stepped aside to let them pass.
The stairs were just as long as Sayna remembered, though they didn’t make her feel as tired. They reached the top, the wooden building with a railing and roof, but no walls. And the squirrel city stretched out before them, across the twisting branches. Indigo trotted onto one of the branch roads, and Tynek and Rose followed just as easily. Torrin stepped onto it, but Sayna froze at the edge of the building, breath sucking unbidden through her teeth.
Without the leafy canopy below, she could see straight to the forest floor, surely at least seventy feet down. Maybe a hundred. A gentle paw grabbed her arm. “Don’t look down.”
Sayna met Torrin’s gaze, before latching onto his arm and stepping onto the branch pathway. Yes, it was wide, but there wasn’t a railing in sight. And now there wasn’t even the illusion of solidity beneath her.
“This is as bad as Kotir.” Sayna kept her teeth clenched, and her gaze ahead.
“I disagree.” Torrin said. “It’s not raining, there’s no enemy soldiers or fire, and we aren’t in our underwear.”
Sayna laughed. Despite the drop below them, she laughed, and nodded, and felt better after that.
“I swear, I’ll always have nightmares about that underwear.”
“It was unpleasant.” Torrin agreed.
From ahead of them, Rose looked over her shoulder, “What did I just hear?”
Sayna laughed harder then, and Torrin joined her.
“You know. When we snuck into Kotir.” Sayna said. “That underwear.”
Understanding flashed in Rose’s eyes. “Oh yes, that.”
She turned back to the pathway ahead, and Sayna held in her snicker. She took a deep breath, and though she made sure to not look down, she found herself growing more relaxed. It might be a silly thought, but she couldn’t help feeling that Torrin wouldn’t let her fall.
Also… would she die even if she did? Now that was a thought to ponder… though she had no plans to find out. Setting that many broken bones would undoubtedly be painful.
Without the leaves covering everything, Sayna could see some pulley and rope platforms connected to houses. Or were they manors? They were probably manors.
They approached the palace itself, and the engraved doors of honey-colored wood swung open before they even reached them. Birch stood inside, clad in his normal gold trimmed green, his straight red hair actually plaited with a single small braid on each side.
“Milords, miladies.” His voice was both more and less tense than usual, somehow.
“Thank you for coming.”
Rose clasped his paw in a shake. “Of course, we wouldn’t miss this. The courts must stay united in this time, and we want to show our support.”
Birch looked relieved, and nodded. “I thank you for that, milady.”
So tensions were still high. Not that Sayna had expected much else. Birch indicated a hallway to his left. “Down at the end is the great hall. I will see you there, in a short while.”
Sayna nodded to the red squirrel as she passed, and he nodded back.
The corridor was still lined with vining flowers, even if the ones outside were dead. The great hall Sayna walked into felt blanketed by an air of somberness, of quiet, despite the many creatures in it.
She got the feeling this wouldn’t be a party… at all, really. In fact it felt more like a funeral.
Sayna noticed Warthorn and his daughter Spring, talking with Argulor. She found she wasn’t sure how she felt about Argulor being in a wooden palace, but she supposed there wasn’t anything to be done about it.
There were mice here, and squirrels, and otters. Sayna just followed Tynek and Rose as they walked deeper into the room, though she doubted they knew where they were going. Still, they couldn’t just stand in the doorway. Heads turned their way, some bowed or dipped their heads in greeting as Sayna passed. 
The oddest thing was that she felt almost… used to that at this point.
Voices did flow through the crowd, but they were low, kept somber by the very air of this place. 
Sayna glanced up at Torrin, and he weakly smiled back, but she knew he must feel it too. Sorrow. Regret. And… pain. Like the very castle itself knew what had been done, and mourned.
“Groddil says magic is in all things.” Sayna said quietly. “And it remembers.”
Torrin nodded. “I have heard that too.”
He paused. “Or that in interacting with mortals, it adopts our emotions. I’m not sure, it has been a long while since my father told me stories.”
They’d stopped walking, Rose had started talking to Warthorn, Tynek nodding or adding a word or two here and there. Indigo still stood nearby, though Sayna noticed the rabbit had shed her coat at some point and just wore her uniform of red and gold.
Sayna heard the doors open, and she turned to look. Sandingomm walked in… still wearing Tsarmina’s crown, Sayna noticed. Though she’d added silver filigree chains and jewels, and Sayna doubted anyone actually realized who’s crown it had once been. Gingivere came behind her, still leaning on his staff, though Sayna took note that he seemed far less dependent on it then in previous days.
A good thing, if their plan was to work. 
Brek walked by Gingivere’s side, hair combed in a semblance of neatness.
Despite what she might have thought, Sayna found it oddly fitting that Brek should be an advisor to the vermin court. The more she considered it, the more obvious it became. He’d grown up with Gingivere, just as she’d grown up wandering the northlands. Neither of them were very good at being woodlanders.
The crowded room still managed to shy away from the three, the two towering cats and their tiny companion. Sayna didn’t move when they neared, however.
She raised an eyebrow at Sandingomm. “So. You’re wearing Tsarmina’s crown now?”
Sandingomm’s blue eyes sparkled as she leaned down a bit and said conspiratorially, “Finders keepers. She stuck it in me shoulder, so I think I earned it.”
Sayna held in her laugh, and didn’t completely succeed.
Gingivere rubbed his forehead. “I told you not to wear that.”
“Ehh, Sayna only knows cause she was with me when I got ahold a this.” Sandingomm waved a dismissive paw. “That was a fun day.”
Really, the oddest thing was that Sayna felt like Sandigomm wasn’t being sarcastic.
Brek walked up and extended a paw, but Sayna hugged him instead, before even thinking. Then she set him down, clearing her throat. “Ahem… sorry, that wasn’t very professional, was it?”
Brek smiled wearily, far too tired for a creature his age. “It’s alright.”
“Are you ok?” Sayna asked, finding herself worried by the shadows beneath his eyes. “Have you been sleeping?”
“Don’t be like Rose.” Brek sighed. “But no… not the last few days… not well. I’ve been through worse though. I’ll survive.”
Sayna believed him, didn’t exactly feel comforted, but decided to leave it at that. 
Anyway, at that moment, Bella walked in. And she looked worse than Brek. Her eyes bore dark shadows below them, and though she walked with measured steps, they were weary steps. She spoke to no one, and no one came near her as she settled near the back of the room, against the wall.
A few moments passed before a sigh made Sayna turn to Warthorn as he patted Spring on the shoulder, before striding across the room toward Bella.
That accounted for all the leaders… well. Everyone but Amber.
Sayna sighed, again feeling like an idiot for trying so hard to save someone so… impossible.
The low murmur of voices flowed around her, and she slowly folded her paws in front of herself. Brek talked with Torrin, Gingivere and Sandingomm with Spring, and Rose. Tynek even seemed to be saying a few words.
It was hard not to feel lost in it all.
Like a gilded figurehead, to be admired, yet part of nothing. This was why she fell into her own thoughts so often.
“We’re dating, actually.”
Sayna blinked as Torrin grabbed her paw. She shook herself a little, raising an eyebrow. “Yes… I know that.”
He laughed a bit. “Not you, I was telling your brother.”
Sayna looked at Brek, who had one paw partially raised and his mouth halfway open. She smirked. “It’s that surprising, then?”
“Yes!” Brek blurted.
Sayna shrugged. “Eh. Fair. But we are.”
“But… but…” Brek shook his head. “But… you’re Sayna. You don’t date creatures. You don’t.”
Sayna glanced up at Torrin, then shrugged. “I date the right creatures.”
As tired as he looked already, Sayna wondered if Brek was actually going to faint then and there. She let go of Torrin’s paw to grab Brek’s shoulder. “Hey. You serve a cat, I have feelings for someone… that’s life I guess. It’s alright. I know what I’m doing.”
I don’t.
Still, she smiled. “Just like you.”
Brek rubbed the side of his head, but he nodded. “Yeah, I understand it’s just… well, it’s weird.”
“Everything’s weird right now, I think.” Sayna patted his shoulder. “Are you going to be ok?”
“Yeah.” Brek said. “I’m not that fragile.”
He smirked at Torrin. “And… I don’t disapprove. Like I might for some creatures.”
Sayna sighed when she saw where he glared; Tynek and Rose. “You can’t hate him forever, Brek.”
Brek muttered something Sayna was pretty sure was ‘I can and I will’, and while she did understand the feeling… she’d felt it herself once, she thought Brek was being rather kit-like.
She turned back to him, about to tell him so, and paused.
Because he was a kit. Grown up as he might seem, he wasn’t. And he’d been through a lot the last few years.
“Hey Brek!” Sandingomm said, from several paces away. “I need your advice on woodlander things. When am I s’posed ta bow again?”
Brek sighed, and trotted over to her.
Torrin looked at Sayna. “So he doesn’t like Tynek?”
“Um.” Sayna shook her head. “No. That’s a long story and there’s reasons… we never did tell you about how we lost Rose in the first place, did we?”
“No, you haven’t.” Torrin said.
Sayna sighed. “I’ll tell you… not now though.”
She looked up as there was movement at the far end of the large, high-ceilinged room. That part of the floor was raised in a dias for a throne or high table, though it sported neither.
A silver-furred squirrel stood atop it, and she held up a paw.
“Creatures of the five courts. I thank you for coming tonight. Your support of us in this time means much.”
Soft murmurs blossomed around Sayna as Birch joined the silver squirrel, from a door at the back of the dias area. He turned back the way he had come, and held out a paw. A moment later, Redfarl herself walked from the doorway, steps dragging a little, shoulders slumped. She kept her gaze down as she joined Birch and the silver squirrel, standing between them.
Sayna noted that tonight, she actually wore a dress. Sayna was sure she’d never seen the young squirrel in one before.
Birch laid a paw on her shoulder, and Sayna noticed the tiny smile she gave him as he said, “We crown our princess today, and look forward to an era of true unity with the other five courts. Too long has our kingdom driven the conflict between us. Tonight, we close that chapter of our story.”
He smiled down at Redfarl. “And so begins a new dawn of hope.”
She swallowed, and lifted her chin just a bit. Birch motioned to someone to his left, and a squirrel walked forward, holding out a crown of gold, filigree leaves.
It was not Amber’s crown, Sayna was sure. This one was far more delicate, and bore small orange stones between the interlacing leaves. Birch lifted it in both paws, the light of lanterns glinting off the golden surface as he held it above Redfarl’s head.
“As the most senior advisor of the former queen, it is my honor to proclaim a new monarch. Though in theory she is queen already, I make it a finality with this crown.”
He did not ask Redfarl to bow, he simply set the gleaming coronet of leaves on her brow, where it nestled in her burgundy hair.
“I present to you Queen Redfarl of the court of squirrels, Lady of Hran-forias.”
A moment of silence stretched out, then clapping began. Subdued, but there. Weak, and somehow strong. Resilient, perhaps. Sayna glanced around the room, to see Bella smiled wearily, and Warthorn clapped with more enthusiasm then most. Rose looked proud, almost. Brek looked far prouder.
Once it died down, the silver squirrel held out a paw. “We fear we do not have the resources for a grand feast, nor the heart for a proper celebration.”
Birch smiled down at Redfarl as she grabbed his paw. He looked out at the crowd, saying, “Still. We will accept all greetings of courts, as is custom.”
Warthorn stepped forward first, and he walked to the dias’s base. He began speaking with Redfarl, and slipped a small box into her paw. Sayna blinked. She'd completely forgotten about gifts. She hadn’t gotten any at her coronation, that she knew of. But perhaps Warthorn just felt bad, and really, it was hard not to.
Redfarl’s lip trembled a bit, but she smiled. And Sayna wasn’t sure how.
Argulor greeted her next, and Sandingomm and Gingivere came after him. For a second, Redfarl stared up at the two, and then Gingivere knelt. He placed a paw to his chest and bowed low, and Sandingomm blinked at him, before clumsily curtsying. Gingivere stood slowly, and smiled at Redfarl, who gaped at him, eyes wide. After a moment, he dipped his head to her, and then he and Sandingomm walked away, Brek following behind. 
Sayna found herself next, and Tynek fell in beside her. She smiled at the little princess… no, the queen, and awkwardly offered her a little bow. Tynek did the same, and extended his good paw, which Redfarl shook.
And that was all. They walked away, and Sayna noticed Bella coming last.
She swallowed, and looked away. That greeting was one she felt like it wasn’t her place to watch.
Torrin and Tynek were speaking, and Tynek asked, “Should we… go home?”
That was a very good question. There was a long table at one end of the room, with what Sayna could only describe as snacks. Not that they looked bad, in fact, everything was very fancy. But it was nothing like her coronation’s feast.
Torrin shrugged. “I mean… soon, I think. But if we leave too fast, it will look bad. We are here in support of Redfarl.”
Rose quickly nodded. “We should stay at least a few minutes. Ty, why don’t we have something to eat?”
She looped her arm through his, and he smiled as they walked toward the food table.
Sayna watched them go, feeling her stomach growl. She… was actually hungry? But then, when had she last eaten? Yesterday, maybe? This immortality thing was annoying sometimes. She looked at Torrin asking, “Do you want some food?”
He stared across the room, where Sayna was in time to see Bella walk out glasswork doors onto what appeared to be a balcony, paw over her mouth.
Torrin shook himself, before saying, “I think I should talk to her.”
He smiled weakly. “She is my guardian Prophet, after all. I might not know her as well as you know Groddil, but she’s given me advice before. And I just have a gut feeling.”
Sayna laid a paw on his arm. “Then you should. Nothing goes well for me when I ignore those sorts of things. I haven’t eaten in… probably too long, but I’ll find you after I grab something.”
He looked relieved, and Sayna watched him stride toward the doors, long tail swirling behind him. Amazingly, even in a crowded room, he didn’t wack anyone with it. Sayna shrugged to herself and made her own way to the food table. There were candied nuts, pecan pie, and fruit cobblers… honestly, did the squirrels eat anything not slathered in sugar?
She supposed it attributed to their high energy levels. Not that much of that was present tonight, deserts or no.
Sayna chose the candied nuts, figuring they’d have at least some of the protein she craved. What she wouldn’t give for a grilled fish and fried potatoes right now. Or some of those lovely vinegared clams the otters were fond of.
“Milady?”
Sayna froze at the voice, not a familiar one. She turned, holding a bowl of nuts, and saw a mouse close to her own age. In fact, hadn’t she seen him before? Somehow, Sayna got the feeling this was not the first time he’d pestered her.
As she was not feeling terribly tolerant and she was very hungry, Sayna took a bite of nuts, chewed it for awhile, before swallowing, and asking, “Yes? What do you need?”
He folded his paws behind his back, appearing stiff. “Nothing, milady. I just wanted to say you are quite lovely tonight.”
Sayna rolled her eyes before thinking. 
Indigo had been right! 
“Sir, I feel that tonight is not the time for flirting.” Sayna said it flatly. “Considering the circumstances, I believe it is disrespectful to the queen in who’s palace we stand.”
The mouse at least had the presence of mind to look slightly ashamed. As he should. 
“Forgive me milady. It is just… you are difficult to approach.”
Good.
Sayna ate more of her sweetened pecans. And she made him wait. 
Finally, she swallowed, saying drolly, “Maybe that’s because I make it that way.”
He didn’t back down, to his credit. Though Sayna found that more annoying than anything else. “Is there something I could do? I just want to get to know you.”
No. Sayna knew her eyes must betray her level of annoyance. Her ears were wanting to pin. You want my crown.
“I’m afraid not, sir.” Sayna leaned a paw on the food table, holding her bowl in the other paw. “You’re a little late. I’m already courting another, so if I cannot help you with a matter of the court, I would appreciate being left alone.”
His ears pinned. “That half-blood?”
Sayna raised her eyebrow, very high and very meaningful. “Really, what do you think?”
“I think he’s taking advantage of you, milady.” The mouse changed tactics. “He’s a half-rat. He wants to improve his place in the world.”
“If I wanted your kind relationship advice sir, I would ask.” Sayna curled her lip a bit. “And with all respect that is due, allow me to say I think that is your plan, not Torrin’s. Again. I would ask you to leave. Allow me to eat in peace before I call my guards to have you removed. I am not interested in your advances.”
Most definitely uninterested.
The mouse did look angry. But the threat of guards seemed to get through to him, and he left after a stiff bow.
Sayna breathed a sigh of relief and stuffed a fistfull of pecans in her mouth.
They really were nice, salty and sweet mixed with richness in quite a pleasant way. And Sayna felt… rather pleased with herself. She had exercised good control of that situation, hadn’t she? And very elegantly too. Or at least it felt elegant. It probably hadn’t been.
She ate the rest of the nuts and was reaching for some pecan pie, when another voice said that dreaded title from behind her.
“Milady?”
Ugh!
Sayna grabbed the pie anyway, and turned around. And this time there were two mice there. Sayna couldn’t help but think of them as lost kits. They looked nervous enough.
“What?” Sayna asked, probably too grumpily. 
The one opened his mouth, and Sayna glared at him. “Is this about courting me, then?”
She took a bite of pie. Really, she could not be expected to pause eating for the first time in a day for these creatures and their stupid intentions.
One of them finally spoke after a moment of stunned silence. “We… were only hoping to speak with you, milady.”
“About courting me.” Sayna said, after swallowing her pie. “Or am I mistaken and you actually have a worthwhile question?”
They glanced at each other, and the one on the right rubbed his arm. “Um… no milady. We did wish to see… if you were perhaps interested.”
Sayna rolled her eyes. “No. I told the last one and I’ll tell you, I’m courting Torrin. Torrin Velles. Yes, he’s a half-blood, yes, I’m aware, no, I couldn’t care less. Now please. Leave me alone if you have no matter of state to bring before me.”
They both stared at her, and Sayna found she was shocked with herself. Pleased, yes, but shocked. 
It was so much easier to forgo sickening niceties when she was seeing someone. Now she had a good reason for turning down annoying prospective suitors. She’d have to tell Torrin how indebted she was to him for that.
“But… milady… why him?” The mouse on the left asked, sounding… honestly forlorn. 
Well that was pathetic.
“I’ve actually spent time around him, for one.” Sayna put a paw on a hip. 
Also. He’s not mortified of me. He’s not a coward. 
She sighed. And ate the rest of the pie in a large bite. If she hadn’t wanted to interrupt a private conversation, she’d have gone and gotten him.
“But milady…”
“If you’re going to say something about how he’s unfit for me because of his heritage, you will not finish that sentence. Really, you expect me to favor you after you insult the creature I’m courting?” Sayna crossed her arms, sighing. “Look. Do not make me be rude. I am attempting to be civil.”
She narrowed her eyes at them. “I simply said no. And I mean it.”
The mouse that seemed the shyer of the two bowed then, and walked away. At least he knew when he wasn’t wanted. His companion seemed to have an unfortunate lack of brain cells.
“You did not even try courting mice among your own creatures.” He tried to stand his ground. But his legs shook ever so slightly.
Sayna huffed. “Your friend is wiser than you, I see. Please, I said no.”
She turned away then, hoping he would leave. Why should she waste more words? And yes, she was being improper. But she’d begun a relationship, and they still wouldn’t leave her alone. How far would they try to go? As far as she let them, she supposed. 
In other words, not far.
“Is milady being pestered?”
Sayna tensed for a second, before smirking and turning to face the speaker. The annoying prospective suitor had backed away, though he shot Torrin a glare.
“It could be worse.” Sayna said. “How is Bella?”
Torrin glanced at the glass doors. “Sad. She was glad I cared, but I think she might want to be alone for now.”
Sayna nodded. “Though sometimes, a kind word means much.”
He smiled then, and slipped his paw over hers. “I heard what you said, by the way.”
Sayna looked down, feeling almost guilty. She’d been rude, hadn’t she?
“Thank you.” Torrin said.
Sayna blinked, before meeting his gaze. “For telling idiots to leave? I’d do that anyway.”
Except… she hadn’t really, before meeting him.
He smirked, then said, “For defending me.”
Oh.
Sayna shrugged. “Well, they can’t stop pointing out the halfblood thing. And it’s honestly ridiculous. Clearly, I like you enough to court you, so how do they think insulting you would help their case? It’s so… frustrating.”
She grinned wryly. “That’s a reason I like you. You’re not an idiot sop.”
“I try not to be.” He said, a laugh in his voice. “Anyway. I think some others are leaving. We should be soon.”
Sayna nodded. She grabbed another piece of pie, before pausing and asking, “Are you hungry at all?”
“I did eat before we left.” He shrugged.
“Oh. I forgot. I’d like some meat though.” She gazed disappointedly at the pie a moment, wishing it was one of those clams the otters made. Then she ate it anyway.
Torrin was looking behind her, and Sayna turned, to see yet another mouse. She shot Torrin an incredulous look, before asking, “Can I help you?”
He couldn’t possibly…
“Er…” He glanced at Torrin. “Are you occupied milady, or could you spare a moment to converse?”
“In what way?” Sayna asked, knowing she sounded wary. “Is this a matter of state?”
Torrin held up her paw, before lightly kissing it. “I would hope it is, sir. The queen happens to be accompanying me tonight.”
Sayna found immense satisfaction in the fact that the mouse quickly ducked his head. “Nevermind, forgive me for bothering you, milady.”
Torrin grimaced after their unwanted interruption, then said, “Maybe we should wait for Tynek and Rose… outside. They seem… unreasonably persistent.”
“I think I’d like that.” Sayna nodded, and followed him toward the door. One of the rabbit guards followed them, but Sayna found she didn’t mind. She’d gotten used to guards, it seemed, and he stayed at a reasonable distance. She rolled her eyes, the moment they left the great hall and its occupants behind.
“Why won’t they leave me alone? My crown? They’re all that hungry for power?”
“Oh, possibly.” Torrin shook his head. “But there is something different about you now. Since the Borialis. I feel it, and I’m certain they do too.”
They stepped from the front gates of Hran-forias, and onto the reasonably lit, massive veranda than was the front of this place. The night hair nipped at Sayna’s nose as she paused, turning to him. 
That did make sense. All her scars were gone. Her hair was long and beautiful, like a queen’s might normally be, not chopped away.
“Well where were they?” She lifted her chin. “When I was ugly?”
Yes, many had asked her to dance at the festival, but almost none had tried at her coronation, when burns laced the left side of her face. At first, she’d assumed that was because she’d spent it with Torrin, but then, a hopeful suitor had been fine with interrupting them tonight.
Torrin brushed a paw against her cheek, saying, “You were never ugly.”
“You managed to see past it, I suppose…”
“Or maybe I never saw it that way at all.”
Sayna stared up at him, finding that for some reason, tears pricked faintly behind her eyes. She shook her head. “You know all the right words to say, don’t you?”
He leaned closer, and said, “Because I mean them.”
A quick smile flitted across his face. “Trust me… this would come out far more awkward if I was pretending.”
What about him made her believe that? What about him made her feel as beautiful as he claimed she was? What about him made her want to kiss him right here, and now, with no regards to what might be proper?
He must have felt that too, because he stepped slightly closer, and slipped his paw in her’s.
“Wait.” Sayna held up her free paw. “This… really isn’t the moment, is it?”
He paused, mere inches from her, and after a moment, straightened up and nodded. “Sorry. You’re right it’s… really not.”
Torrin sighed, rubbing a paw down his face. “Maybe I am one of those idiots after all.”
Sayna shuffled her boots, before letting go of his paw. “I mean… you weren’t uh… well I… look, let’s try that later? When we aren’t at the somber coronation of the queen of a fellow court?”
Because she couldn’t deny that fluttery feeling in her chest whenever she met his gaze too long.
Yes, love really was like being kicked in the head; A rush of terribly disorienting adrenaline. It was truly unfair.
“I wouldn’t say no.” Torrin smirked a little.
If he was anything like her right now, he must be feeling pretty stupid. 
Thankfully, Tynek and Rose came out several moments later, Indigo and the other two guards in tow. She shot Sayna a look. “When are you going to stop wandering off at parties?”
I panicked.
Torrin pointed at their guard, standing near the doors into the palace. “We weren’t unguarded.”
Sayna felt her face grow a bit warm. She’d forgotten about the guard, in the moment. At least she and Torrin hadn’t actually kissed. 
Indigo grumbled under her breath, before sighing, “You should have had two. But I suppose it’s an improvement from…. previous occasions.”
The way Indigo said that… Sayna had the feeling she was slightly haunted by those specific memories. 
Still, she just folded her paws behind her back and walked onto the branch road, Tynek and Rose following.
Sayna had to wonder if she was the only creature terrified of heights. It was better this time, though a glance down made her stomach twist and forced her to grab Torrin’s arm again. Like she hadn’t made everything awkward enough.
But then… he didn’t seem like he felt terribly awkward. So maybe she shouldn’t either.
The walk through the branchways was spent in silence, as was most of the ride to Brockhall. Sayna didn’t feel much like talking, after all that. It had been the most somber party she’d ever attended… that she could remember.
When they rejoined the equines, Sayna exchanged a few words with Dancer, but for the most part, she simply stared into the treetops as she rode. The crystalline stars gleamed above the empty branches, and her breath floated upwards in swirling pale vapor, obscuring her view of them every few minutes.
It was a quiet group that entered Brockhall, and after a few rather somber goodnights, each went their own way.
Well. Sayna stayed in the kitchen long enough to swipe some dried fish from the pantry and grab a glass of water, before she returned to her room and fell asleep pouring over the book Torrin had found for her.
She woke an undetermined amount of time later, head on her desk, puddle of saliva saturating her cheek. 
Sayna jerked her head up, scrambling for a moment, before realizing she’d slumped to the side of the book, and not on it. Praise Ignasa for that… really. She closed it gently, before cleaning her face and the desk. 
She needed to be more careful. She could have ruined her chance at defeating Bloodwrath, and for no real reason either. It wasn’t like she’d learned anything new from the book last night. She could pick out bits and pieces of it, an agus or se here and there, but nothing substantial.
Was Torrin right? Could Urran be the key to this mess?
Sayna didn’t have the highest of hopes, but she gathered the book up anyway, and walked down the marble halls with their impossible water. She reached the infirmary door, and quietly pushed it open, not wishing to disturb any sick or injured that might be here.
She froze as she turned, because Groddil and Urran sat in the main room at a table beside the pool of water, eating and talking. Groddil, and Urran. The only words she had ever seen her mentor and father exchange had been angry ones. 
Now they sat on either side of a table, chatting while Groddil held Asher in his lap.
It made for an odd picture, and certainly one Sayna never dreamed she’d see.
Groddil looked up. “Lass, come and join us. There’s enough for three.”
Sayna crossed the room and sat at the table, noting Urran had a salad, while Groddil ate eggs and fried strips of fish. She set her book in front of her, finding she wasn’t hungry. She had eaten last night, after all.
She looked from Groddil, to Urran, and back to Groddil.
“You two… get along now?”
Urran looked down, but Groddil shrugged. “Well lass, things change. We have Ignasa in common now. Mistakes have been made on all sides, and apologies given, and I see no point in holding onto anger.”
Sayna just blinked, and then nodded. She supposed she understood, she just never would have dreamed this outcome.
“I was wrong in many, many ways.” Urran said, quietly.
Sayna said nothing for a moment, and then she nodded again. After a second, she said, “I have something to ask you… Urran, that is. I don’t know if you’ll be able to help but this book… it’s ancient. And as much as I know of the old script, I cannot read it.”
She slid the book across the table, saying, “Careful. It’s fragile.”
He opened it gently, and began looking it over. Sayna looked to Groddil, saying, “Torrin found that in the library. We think it may have a clue to binding Bloodwrath.”
Groddil nodded, looking down at Asher as he started fussing. “Maybe he needs a nap. I’ll be back.”
He stood, and carried his tiny nephew into one of the curtained rooms. That left Sayna alone with Urran, and she scooted her chair a little closer to him. “Can you make any sense of that?”
Urran glanced up, before nodding. “A bit. I’m very rusty at this, but I was taught it. I will attempt to transpose what I can… this is the ancient dialect, near the beginning of the reign of the Lukes. It translates… poorly into common tongue, I fear.”
He glanced up at her. “But I will do my best, with what small understanding I do have. It might take a few days, I’ll need to work on it in my free time. And there’s not too much of that.”
He paused. “In fact I should prepare more salve. Can I keep this for the times I’m not working?”
“Of course.” Sayna nodded. “Any help is appreciated.”
The infirmary door opened, and Indigo stuck her head inside. The moment she saw Sayna, she looked relieved. “Milady. You are truly hard to track down. I even looked in the library first this time.”
“Sorry. I’m finding research help.” Sayna smiled at Urran.
Indigo nodded. “Alright then. Well, Bella has called a war council. We’re expected there shortly.”
Sayna pricked her ears up. So the waiting was over. 
She slid off her chair, nodding to Urran. “I’ll come by in a day or so, if that’s alright?”
He just nodded in reply, and Sayna walked toward Indigo.
It was time to act. 
><><
The war council was held in Brockhall, and attended by all the leaders… and Birch, on behalf of the squirrels. Sayna got the feeling that she’d be seeing quite a lot of him, in the next few years as Redfarl grew up.
Nothing terribly new was discussed. Sayna had already had this plan formulating in her mind, and the council only gave it a more solid structure. 
And she was ready. 
This evening could not come soon enough.
No more sitting about, and holding onto the tiny scraps they had left. No more waiting for Tsarmina’s inevitable attack. 
Mossflower would not cower like frightened insects. 
Sayna donned her armor that evening, scowling at where the hole in the back of her leather gorget had been sewn closed. It was a nice mending job. But this was the finest armor she’d seen, let alone owned. And Amber had gone and put a hole in it. 
The most amusing thing was that she was more flustered over the armor, then the hole that had been put through her neck.
Being immortal was… strange.
Sayna buckled her sword at her waist, and walked from her room. She met Rose in the kitchen, where her sister fixed up her hair, mounding it high on her head and pinning it tightly.
“I hope you’ll be alright.” Rose fussed. It had been decided that she wouldn’t go, this first time.
“This isn’t the battle.” Sayna offered Rose a small smile. “This is the warning.”
She kept those words in her mind as she rode Dancer along the roadway to the Moss, Torrin by her side, a hundred at her back. This was the warning.
We attack en masse.
Sayna recalled Gingivere’s words. She can’t ignore over twenty raids in a night. Her creatures will force her to address it, especially if it’s my seal on our ultimatum.
Sayna looked to Torrin as Dancer and Solain walked abreast. 
“Do you have the letter?” 
He patted a pouch tied to the belt of his armor. “Right here.”
Sayna nodded, and looked to the road ahead. “Then we attack at moon’s zenith. The town to the west of Kotir, nearest the Moss?”
“Those are our orders.” He said. 
For a second, there was silence, and then he asked, “Are you doing alright?”
 
Sayna clenched her gauntlets over Dancer’s mane as her friend turned her head questioningly as well. She managed a shaky smile for both of them. “Yes. This… isn’t a head on battle. And hopefully we won’t have to kill many.”
I just have to stay calm.
And with no Amber to disrupt them, perhaps things would go relatively according to plan. All she needed to do was not Bloodwrath, because that battle was one she could not yet win.
Dancer crested a hill in the road, and Sayna saw the Moss stretch out before them, carving its way through the landscape like black and silver ribbons in the darkness of night. They were west of the patch of Mossflower that had burned away, and the trees crowded along the river’s edge.
Sayna leaned into Dancer’s trot as she picked up speed down the far slope, and Solain matched her gait with ease.
It would have been more ideal if Gingivere and Sandingomm could be in multiple places at once; Sayna wasn’t sure how well Kotirians would heed a golden mouse and a halfrat. Still, to work, these raids had to be consecutive. Even then, Sayna had to admit she had her doubts of Tsarmina’s response. She seemed to have entirely abandoned the area around Kotir.
Dancer paused at the edge of the river for a moment, and Sayna looked across the glassy water, obsidian in the darkness. It lay low in its banks, many sheer and towering in this spot. There was a flat place to cross, just as Warthorn had said there would be.
“I hope Tynek is doing alright.” Sayna glanced west down the Moss, where she knew her brother was leading his own contingent. 
He had Indigo, at the very least. 
Dancer stepped into the water, hooves throwing up large splashes that faded as the water rose to her underbelly, where it dragged at the tips of Sayna’s boots. 
“We have not had rain in too long.” Torrin observed, as neither Solain or Dancer were swimming, even in the middle of the expansive river.
Solain tossed his head, weed-like mane falling over his neck gills as he spoke in his water-logged voice. “That is for sure. The Moss has grown placid, not wild as she should be. She will be harder to defend this way.”
“I pray it won’t come to that.” Torrin said.
But Sayna knew it could. 
What if the remaining Greeneye nobles favored Tsarmina, not Gingivere? If no one forced her to accept the trial by combat, Sayna didn’t have to consider how the cat would respond for any amount of time. 
Her answer would be written with blood and fire.
Dancer splashed from the Moss, water draining from her legs. She climbed to the top of the sloping bank, then turned back. The army was crossing now, and Sayna watched them as Solain trotted to Dancer’s side. 
Her lips barely moved as she glanced upward, praying, “Ignasa… protect us all.”
It took some considerable time for the army to cross, and when all finally had gathered on this bank, Dancer turned and trotted westward. Sayna noted her burned-off tail bobbing behind her. The scars that should be lacing up her legs had healed completely, but the lack of her signature streaming tail remained.
Sayna felt bad for that. Another time her actions had hurt a friend. 
When was she going to grow smart enough to stop doing that? She could only hope that day was now, though she imagined she would never be free of difficult choices so long as this war raged.
The plains stretched out in the darkness, an endless sea of grasses, the rolling hills like waves. Sayna could see the clumps of trees gathered in the countless valleys, small compared to Mossflower. Several hours passed in silence, just cresting one hill, then walking down it’s far slope. Sometimes they walked through a thicket of the trees, and Sayna had to duck down to avoid being smacked in the face with branches.
At long last, Dancer stopped at the top of a particularly large hill. The cold night air blew her mane across Sayna’s gauntlets, and she stared down into the valley, where golden lights sparkled in the shadows of cottages.
Solain had been walking slightly behind, and he stopped beside Dancer. Sayna looked to Torrin. “That’s the right town?”
“It should be.” He looked around the empty countryside. “Anyway, I see no other contingents coming.”
Sayna nodded, and pulled the moondial Bella had given her from her small waist satchel.
She held it up, looking at the moon, not quite a full one like it would be in a few days. Then she stuffed it back in her satchel, saying, “We have about an hour. Keep the army on the far side of the hill, the last thing we need is to be seen.” 
Torrin nodded, and Solain trotted back toward them. She could hear Torrin giving orders, but she didn’t take her eyes off the small village. 
Nothing seemed to move down there, though it was clearly occupied. The fields she could see had already been harvested, and lay dark and empty in the moonlight. Hopefully whatever they could take in these raids would help Mossflower in the winter to come. Though since they planned to bring the Kotirians too, she doubted it would do terribly much. Of course, these villages would have to produce more than just what their population would need.
Torrin eventually returned to her side and Solain and Dancer stood on the edge of the hill, lone sentinels in the dark. The breeze played with their manes and Torrin’s hair, though Sayna’s was pinned up far too much to move.
Every so often, Sayna occupied herself by checking her moondial. Finally, on the seventh check, she turned to Torrin. “We need to move. Rally them behind me.”
He trotted off on Solain again, and Sayna took a last look at the town. This was her first true military campaign, at least where she lead alone, not under Indigo’s instruction. She prayed there wouldn’t be too many surprises.
“I hope they listen.” Said Dancer.
Sayna hoped that too.
“They listen, or they die.” Sayna said, grimmly. 
Perhaps that was unkind. But this wasn’t about kindness. And Mossflower was showing more mercy than had been afforded them. Sayna supposed that was all any of them could do.
Clinking and shuffling filled the air as her soldiers came close behind her, and thudding hooves rang out as Torrin and Solain trotted to her side. A look down the hill proved the little town seemed none the wiser. Sayna took a deep breath, then gave her orders. “Fifty with me. Torrin, lead the other fifty around and hem in the town. Try no to kill any, but do not let any escape. Now. We move. Onwards, for Mossflower!”
Dancer started down the hill, walking so the soldiers could keep up. Sayna watched Torrin and the others begin making their way around the back of the village, on the hilltops.
Sayna set her jaw and tried to ignore the burning just behind her eyes. Well, burning was an overstatement, it was more a raw tingle. But she knew far too well how quickly that could change.
“You alright?” Dancer asked softly as they neared.
“Yeah.” Sayna tried not to be annoyed. Her friends were just looking out for her, and she was grateful. Still, she had more control over Bloodwrath than that.
Well… maybe not. But she had at least been getting better.
Dancer stopped on the outskirts, and per Sayna’s instruction, her army spread out to completely surround the village. Then she nodded to 
Dancer, they trotted inwards, ten soldiers behind them. Torrin and Solain should bring another ten.
There was only one main road in this place, and a rather haphazard cluster of worn cottages, all but the largest with straw roofs. 
As Sayna expected, the trotting hooves and march of boots did bring some villagers to their doors. They stared with wide eyes as Dancer stopped in a rear, and Sayna drew her sword in a blaze of light.
“Creatures of Kotir!” Sayna yelled so she knew her voice would be heard. “We do not wish you harm!”
Some had shrunk back into their houses, and a few of those peered around the doorframes. Others simply stared in blank wonder. Torrin and Solain joined her from the other side of town, with more soldiers. 
Sayna could see the honest terror in many of the Kotirian eyes, and she said, “We have your town surrounded, and if you run, we will have no choice but to kill you. Now, send forth a representative to speak with me. On my sword and Ignasa who blessed it, I shall not allow them to be harmed.”
She waited, and there was scuffling, then a young weasel girl was shoved from one of the houses, where she stumbled a few paces, and then just stared at Sayna, shaking. 
At last she stammered, “I… I am Nell. I… me father… was the closest we had ta a mayor… please… don’t kill me!”
Sayna vaulted from Dancer’s back, and Nell shrank away. Sayna held up a paw. “I am not intending to kill you, though feel free to point out the coward who tossed you out here, if you’d like to be rid of them.”
Nell just blinked at her, as Sayna flipped her sword behind herself, to hopefully be less threatening. She did doubt how well that would go, however, as the blue fire just backlit her and probably made her more threatening. “I am Sayna Luke, queen of the court of mice in Mossflower. We have declared war upon your queen, and your nation.”
The weasel girl’s legs shook, and she visibly shivered from head to paw. 
Finally she whispered, “Tsarmina abandoned us. All these villages round what used ta be a capitol.”
She turned pleading eyes to Sayna. “Please just leave us alone? I’ve never hurt none a ya woodlanders, not that I know of. Me town is just tryin’ ta survive this horrible illness from the city. We ain’t gonna try’n stop ya if ya mean ta kill the queen.”
“Unfortunately I need your town to be smoldering rubble.” Sayna lifted her chin. “But that does not mean you have to die.”
Nell just looked confused, and terrified.
A small thud made Sayna look to her right as Torrin stepped to her side. “What milady means to say, is your queen has abandoned you. She’s not coming to save you. So perhaps it is time you followed a new queen.”
The weasel stared at Torrin, finally asking, “You’re a rat who serves a mouse? That’s… possible?”
“Partially.” Torrin smiled a fanged smile. “I am half rat. And we offer you and your town sanctuary across the Moss. In mere weeks, this land could well be a battlefield, and I do not doubt Tsarmina would set fire to these prairies with no warning for you should it benefit her.”
Nell turned to Sayna. “So… we would be… yer slaves?”
Sayna did not have to answer that, Torrin spoke instantly. “We’re not making you slaves. The Greeneyes have done enough of that.”
His voice sounded sharp, and final. Sayna could only imagine he had strong feelings on the subject.
“There is a court of vermin in Mossflower.” Sayna said. “Led by Sandingomm Keir, a cat, and the creature you once called prince. If you agree, you would follow her, and be allowed to build new homes within our forests.”
Torrin pulled Gingivere’s ultimatum from his satchel, and held it out. Nell took it with shaking paws and stared at the seal for a long time, wonder in her eyes. At last she looked up, giving the paper back to Torrin. “Prince Gingivere’s still alive?”
“Alive, and ready to prove he did not murder his father through trial by combat.” Torrin nodded.
Nell stared from Sayna, to Torrin, then back at Sayna. “Where… is his majesty… er… yer majesty?”
Sayna sighed. This would be so much easier if Gingivere could be everywhere at once. Now that Sayna hadn’t struck Nell down on the spot, creatures began peering through windows, and slinking around doors. 
No, Sayna realized. These were kits, almost all of them. Most looked younger than Nell. 
They gaped at her in wonder, and the one adult Sayna could pick out in the light of her sword’s flames was a female, clutching a toddler close. 
She looked to Nell. “What happened here?”
Nell glanced behind herself, and her shoulders slumped. “All the grown creatures were drafted in the weeks before Kotir was abandoned. That’s where me dad is. Wull. He’s probably dead by now. They left us kits ta bring in what was left a the harvest. They said they’d be comin’ back ta collect, but they never did.”
She looked at Sayna, some of the sheer terror in her eyes being replaced by cautious hope. “There’s… really a place fer us in those woods? An’ the good prince too?”
“There is.” Sayna offered her a smile, one she hoped was encouraging. She supposed this was a time where not having scars lacing the entire left side of her face was advantageous. “You simply must come with us. Take whatever you need with you, and gather in the square. We can offer you two hours.”
Nell nodded, then glanced down at the tattered dress she wore. “That won’t be two hours, we don’t have much.”
She swallowed, then turned her back to Sayna and put her paws on her hips. “Wull, ya heard her. Pack yer things. I fer one ain’t stayin’ here and waitin’ ta catch Distemper.”
She looked over her shoulder to Sayna, blue flames lighting her shadowed eyes. “I’ll take the ghosts.”
One of the young boys, grown rather bold after seeing Nell not die, leaned out a window and called, “But what if’n we refuse?”
A contrarian, apparently. Nell gaped at him, mouth open in horror. Sayna stepped past her, twirling her sword in sparking arcs of light. “If you refuse you may stay here. Headless, while your town burns as your funeral pyre. Do I make myself clear?”
The boy shrank behind the frame of the window. Sayna nodded, calling, “That’s what I thought!”
She turned to Torrin. “Find the storehouse, take all we can.”
Nell stepped closer. “We’ll help ya.”
Sayna looked at the weasel girl, asking, “You’ll help us loot and burn your own village?”
Nell nodded. “If ya truly mean what ya say about Gingivere… I’d ten times sooner serve him than his witch of a sister.”
Sayna blinked, and then nodded. Apparently, Tsarmina had garnered herself a reputation. “Very well.”
The next few hours were a bustle of activity, loading grain into carts, hitching up the old feral horses of this place, and gathering the townsfolk on the hill opposite the town, meager belongings and all. There weren’t more than twenty creatures in all.
After all was said and done, Sayna lit each cottage roof ablaze with the Queensword, kneeling on Dancer’s back to be tall enough.
Then they trotted a safe distance away, and Torrin and Solian came to stand beside them as the fire raged. Surrounded by empty fields as the town was, there was really no fear of the fire spreading. 
They were close enough that Torrin reached out and took her paw, which Sayna gripped back in thanks. Her adrenaline rush was starting to fade. 
And she still, really hated fire.
The army and townsfolk stood atop the hill anyway, far from the blaze. But Sayna knew she and Torrin still had one thing left to do.
Neither said a word as the flames dwindled, and after about an hour, died down to embers and smoking rubble. Eventually, Sayna let go of 
Torrin’s paw and nodded to him. “I think it’s cool enough.”
Dancer walked forward, into what had once been a town. The buildings had collapsed in on themselves, blackened, and alive with burned embers. Sayna shuddered at the heat that hit her face.
“You can wait outside, you know.” Torrin said, gently. Did he know how much she hated fire?
“I know.” Sayna said. “But heaven forbid something go wrong and the court tries to blame you. I could see them doing it.”
“Oh please.” Torrin rolled his eyes, pulling Gingivere’s ultimatum from his satchel. “How hard is it to tack a thing to another thing? I have a nail and an axe pole.”
Sayna laughed a bit, though it was more nervous than anything.
Dancer flicked an ear repeatedly, and Sayna leaned down, asking, “Are you alright?”
“Fine.” Dancer said, voice tight.
Of course. Sayna held in her groan. How could she be such an idiot? She wasn’t the only one traumatized by fire.
Thankfully, Solain stopped walking beside the charred corner post of a fallen cottage. Torrin touched it, nodded, then tried pushing it. It stayed.
He pressed the parchment against it, holding the nail in place and drawing his hatchet. A few well-placed slams later, he drew back and flipped the axe into its sheath. “That should do it.”
The parchment stayed, firmly affixed.
Torrin smiled wryly. “Let’s get out of here. I’m none too fond of fire myself.”
Sayna couldn’t agree more. Dancer and Solian trotted, then loped from the smoldering ruin, almost racing each other up the hill to the army and townsfolk. They took their places at the back this time, to hopefully be ready in the case of any sort of attack.
Sayna glanced at the smoking village a final time, before ordering, “We move out. Return to the woods.”
><><
Whegg sat on the back of the horse who’d been kind enough to take him, beside Sandingomm and Gingivere. The cat lady rode a large black horse, while Gingivere sat on the chestnut that Bella normally rode.
Whegg found himself a little surprised that any horse agreed to take Gingivere, but it was only fair. Since he would be risking his life should this endeavor prove successful. 
And Whegg knew that look in Gingivere’s eye. That look of resolute determination, held in place with a thin layer of fear. It was the look Gingivere wore whenever he found himself in a situation where he had lost control.
“My….”
Whegg paused, because Gingivere wasn’t his prince anymore. “Uhm. Sir. When do you wish me ta move?”
Gingivere looked up at the stars, and then said, “Not yet.”
Sandingomm stared down at the sizable town they were encamped around, and Whegg realized this would be her first time leading…. well. 
Anything, really.
She probably had the jitters, like he did when he’d lead his first campaign.
She turned to Gingivere, asking, “So ya think they’ll listen ta ya?”
“I held great favor, once.” Gingivere stared down at the village, voice soft. “I did try to advocate for the commoners. I can only hope they will remember.”
Whegg smiled to himself. Gingivere shouldn’t sell himself so short. But he decided to let the prince see for himself, rather than say anything. Likely, that would mean more anyway.
There was a clopping, and Brek rode a small gray pony around behind Gingivere to Whegg’s side. Both were so tiny they’d completely vanished behind the cat and heavy horse.
“I lead my half to the right? I know I do… I’m just… double checking.” Brek twiddled his thumbs.
Of course, he was used to planning schedules and ordering slaves, not armies.
Whegg realized he was likely the calmest creature here. Or at least the most sure of himself.
He nodded. “That’s right. I’m goin’ left, we’ll meet in the middle and join Gingivere and her majesty in the town square.”
Brek just nodded in confirmation.
Whegg glanced at the army behind them, a motley assortment. A few otters, some squirrels, some mice, and all the vermin who were well enough. Whegg noticed Duane among them, and smiled to himself.
It was good to fight beside his old friend again.
“Whegg?”
Whegg turned to Gingivere as he said, “Now. Take the southern side. Brek, take the northern side. Surround the town, then join us in the square.”
Whegg nodded, and only just kept himself from tapping his heels to his mount’s sides as the horse moved on its own. That was not a way to make friends. As nice as it was the Mossflowerian horses were willing to carry vermin… or some of them anyway… he did miss his old feral pony.
He drew his spear, raising it above his head as he called, “Left flank ta me!”
They moved with him, breaking off from the army and following as his horse trotted down a slope dotted in chunks of limestone that shone bone-white in the light of the moon.
Whegg’s horse kept trotting as one by one, small groups broke from the bulk of his battalion and formed ranks around the village’s edge. With the squirrel archers in their midst, Whegg highly doubted any townsfolk would be escaping.
He did find it surprising that squirrels and otters were willing to follow him. But the council had decided to supply Sandingomm with a temporary force as her court was the only one without a military presence. That fact did worry Whegg, but tonight might have a chance of changing it.
Though he doubted they would find much, in these little towns.
His horse rounded several small pastures, which seemed home to ferals. At very least they would gain a few mounts, if these all weren’t tired cart-horses.
Whegg saw Brek in the next second, as his gray pony rounded the corner of a building. He had his slender sword drawn, though there were no blue flames on the blade as of yet. Apparently the kit could choose if they’d be there or not, though really, Whegg didn’t pretend to understand how magic worked.
He had been forgiven by Ignasa, and that was enough for him.
Whegg’s horse started down the main road, and Brek’s pony quickly turned the corner, short legs trotting to keep up. A good number of soldiers followed them, though Whegg kept his eyes fixed ahead.
He saw Sandingomm and Gingivere, their soldiers at their back, facing a few armed townsfolk. 
Again, Whegg only just kept himself from clapping his heels to his horse’s sides.
He caught himself and leaned down instead, asking, “Kin we go a little faster?”
The horse sped up, and Whegg was in time to hear one call, “Ya can’t really be the prince… they said he died in prison… ya gotta be a ghost!”
The rat that was talking drew an old sword and Whegg clenched his spearpole tighter, but Sandingomm held out her paw. 
“Now there ain’t gonna be none a that.”
She flicked her paw up and the rat yelped as a faint blue glow coated his sword. It flew from his grasp and shot upwards, slamming point-first into the roof of the porch he stood on.
Whegg’s horse slowed as he neared, and he blinked at Sandingomm. She stared down at her paws in wonder for a moment, then grinned. “So last time weren’t just a fluke.”
She turned back to the townsfolk, most of who’d backed away, and most of who gaped at the rat’s sword in the porch ceiling. “Anyway, there ain’t gonna be none a that, see? I assure ya this is the genuine Gingivere.”
“Mates, listen ta her!” One weasel yelled to the others. “I think it is him, look, he even brought his pet.”
The thick-headed creature was pointing at Brek.
Gingivere scowled, and Whegg winced. The prince never had liked that nickname for Brek. He pinned his golden ears. “He’s not my pet, he’s my friend. And now that my father’s not breathing down my neck you’ll kindly call him such.”
Brek sat on Whegg’s other side, and he turned to him as the kit sighed under his breath. “Really, it’s fine.”
“An’ the capt’n!” A female voice called out. 
It took Whegg a second to realize they were talking about him.
About three males stood behind or around the rat who’s sword still stuck in the wood of the porch roof. One held a pitchfork, the the others had knives, but none seemed excited to rush forward. And they certainly weren’t trained. The one weasel held his knife like he planned to cook with it.
Whegg held in a sigh. This might be helpful in taking the town, but it would not help build an army.
Sandingomm held up a paw. “Look. We kin help each other. Yer vermin, an’ so’m I. I’m Sandingomm Keir, queen a the court a vermin in 
Mossflower. Tsarmina left ya all ta die out here, didn’t she? Stranded an’ alone. Bet’cha she planned fer ya ta soak up the brunt of the woodlander’s wrath. She’s kinda the worst.”
Whegg looked around. Villagers were creeping from their doors, and peering through their windows. 
Sandingomm shrugged. “Nah, she is the worst. No kinda about it.”
Whegg felt his eyebrow raise unbidden. 
This was Sandingomm’s speech? Either he was simply used to Gingivere’s eloquence and fancy words, or this really was the most informal thing he’d heard. Even some of his own rallying words might have been better.
And yet he saw creatures nodding, and saw their ears perk up. So it was working, whatever Sandingomm was doing.
“I may be a new queen. I don’t got as big an army as lil’ miss Greeneyes, an’ maybe I don’t got all the finesse… then again I might. But I do got yer Prince as advisor, an’ I do got an offer fer ya. How many a those has Tsarmina been passin’ out, eh?”
Sandingomm raised a paw skyward. “Join me, an’ be free a her. Help me make a new nation; a better one.”
Whegg saw several of the villagers stepping forward, eagerness in their eyes. 
The rat on the porch was one of them, and Whegg heard him call to his companions, “C’mon, she’s got magic, an’ the prince! It’s a lot more’n Tsarmina kin say. Bet’cha she raised him from the dead or somethin’.”
Whegg smirked to himself. Hardly, but he could see how these creatures could reach that assumption.
Gingivere cleared his throat, and all murmurs ceased. “Listen. I am going to challenge my sister as my right by law demands, and put an end to her tyranny once and for all. I must send her a message. So I must burn this village to the ground and make its residents disappear. Were I my father, I would kill you all.”
His eyes softened. “So it is a mercy I am not my father. Instead, we offer you a new life, hidden in the trees of Mossflower, protected from the brunt of the war to come. Though I will expect some to fight beside my queen, if it comes to that.”
Whegg noticed some of the townsfolk looked excited. Most of them, actually.
The rat fell to his knees before the two mounted cats. “We all wished ya’d survive, my prince. I’ll follow ya ta the ends a the earth.”
“You’ll follow her now.” Gingivere pointed at Sandingomm.
The rat shrugged. “If’n that’s yer wish.”
Sandingomm grinned, and raised a fist. “So who’s with me?”
A cheer rose up, and a lot louder of a cheer then Whegg had been expecting. Sandingomm’s horse reared as she yelled, “Then let’s ransack this place an’ show Tsarmina just what we think a her!”
The cheer was even louder this time. 
Whegg glanced at Brek, and the kit shrugged, looking equally as baffled. 
Whegg decided to mentally amend his previous assumption that Sandingomm was nervous. Gingivere held up a paw. “Wait, please, let us not act in haste. Gather the belongings you will need to build a new life. Show us the storehouses of grain. Make certain all are safely evacuated, and only then ransack the town.”
He nodded to Sandingomm. “Is that alright, my queen?”
“Uh, yeah. Right. What me esteemed advisor said.” Sandingomm straightened up primly. “Whegg, Brek? Take some soldiers and get whatever grain ya can.”
Whegg nodded. At least he had orders to carry out. 
The next few hours were spent loading grain onto carts, and Whegg was pleased to find there was a lot of it. So much in fact, they had to leave some behind, much as Whegg was loath to.
Once all citizens had evacuated and belongings were removed, Whegg and his horse stood atop a surrounding hill as Sandingomm and her soldiers set the buildings alight. And as he watched the flames light the black sky, Whegg knew well what they had begun.
She will heed us.
Whegg set his jaw. 
No matter how many towns it takes.
==Chapter 56 She who Answers==
The messenger came on the third day of their nightly town raids. Sayna had began to wonder if their ultimatum meant nothing to Tsarmina, something she wouldn’t doubt. What she’d feared was that it meant nothing to her nobles.
But as Mossflower trespassed farther and farther onto Greeneye land, that apparently changed.
Sayna didn’t really know what she’d been expecting, but drawn battle lines flying a white flag hadn’t really been the picture she’d been envisioning. 
Yet there they were, just in sight of the Moss, cloth of their tents turning coral in the light of the rising winter sun. Sayna sat on Dancer’s back, crown a weight on her brow, armor glinting in the corners of her eyes from Tynek and Torrin, on either side of her. Rose sat on Luna, at Tynek’s left. And she wore full armor again. They all did, Torrin even had a fully matched set.
Warthorn and Spring sat on their kelpies, armor shining like blue and gold fish scales, harpoons in paw. The two stood on Rose’s left, Warthorn’s black kelpie tossing his head now and again. The white one Spring rode barely blinked her solid black eyes.
To the right of Torrin, Redfarl sat on a small, wiry chestnut, and Birch rode a larger bay at her side. The squirrels rarely bothered to ride, with their branchways running throughout Mossflower, but today was an exception. Sayna couldn’t help but notice the raised chin and trembling lip of the young squirrelqueen.
Bella sat on a gray horse today, as Gingivere rode the chestnut she always did. He wore leather armor with metal accents and a gold-trimmed cape, and Sayna was truly surprised they’d found a single thing that could fit him. But then… cats had once lived in Mossflower, so she supposed it wasn’t so shocking. Sandingomm wore mostly leather, well hardened, with a draping purple cloak and Tsarmina’s crown on her head.
Somehow, even with the alterations, Sayna got the feeling Tsarmina would recognize that.
Brek sat on a gray pony near the two cats, and Whegg was there too. Even creatures like Germaine and some of her assistants had come. Sayna did a double-take when she saw the infirmary keeper had brought Urran. Urran! He stood between Germaine and the half-blood lady… Sayna was pretty sure that was Whegg’s girlfriend.
Really, Groddil was the only one missing. But Sayna understood completely. Ferran had tried once, and he would try again. Groddil had to stay with his nephew. 
The stamp of hooves filled the air, with the shuffle of boots and clinking of armor.
Thuds rang from behind her, and Indigo rode a horse to Torrin’s side, holding a long pole with one end wrapped in purple cloth. She gave it to him, along with some words Sayna couldn’t quite make out. Then she returned to their assembled forces.
“What’s that?” Sayna asked.
Torrin grinned. “Just something Bella helped me put together for today.”
He grabbed the edge of the rich purple fabric, pulling it across his lap. And Sayna’s paw raised unbidden to her mouth. 
For somehow, Torrin held the flag of the Lukes, the one Sayna had seen in her old books. The golden feather and star, on a backdrop of royal amethyst. Sayna closed her mouth after a moment, asking, “Where did you get that?”
“Bella actually had it in a trunk, among other things.” Torrin said. “Apparently, since Brockhall was the largest stronghold in Mossflower, other courts sometimes stored things there.”
He folded the flag. “Lucky for us.”
Despite what they faced, Sayna nodded, and grinned. Yes, she’d seen pictures of that flag, but she never dreamed she would actually see it in a physical, tangible form. 
As she looked around, she noticed the brilliant blue of the furled flag Spring held, and the green and brown of one Birch had. Brek carried what looked to be one too, it was simply at his side, the one that faced away from Sayna. She could only catch a glimpse of what looked to be silver, and maybe black. 
Bella carried no flag, but then, she had no court. 
She was looking over at Gingivere, and Sayna too turned her gaze upon the once prince of the Greeneyes. 
He sat on his horse like a statue, nipping winter breeze tugging at hair he’d cropped off, close to his head. It looked almost fluffy like that. He stared blankly at the tents across the Moss, and the soldiers milling around them.
That… should be his army. 
Sayna was glad they stood on the same side, but even still, the look in his pale eyes hurt her in a way she didn’t quite understand. 
Sandingomm tapped him on the shoulder and softly said something. He started a bit, looked to her, and smiled a weak smile. Then he nodded, and looked around at the assembled Mossflowerians.
After a quick conversation, he spoke. “They seem to be truly encamped, and they’re making it evident. I think we can ride to meet them. I do not believe it is a trap… though the decision is yours.”
“We’ve already made it.” Warthorn nodded to Spring, and she raised her flag, letting the blue pendant unfurl and flow in the breeze. Twin fish adorned it, the same symbol most of the otters had tattooed on their bodies. Warthorn twirled his harpoon. “Let her see Mossflower. And let her tremble.”
There were nods all around. Birch raised his flag, a brown tree on a field of two-toned green. Brek held his up as well, letting the silver and black cloth flow out, crossed white sword and spear shining in the pale afternoon sun.
Torrin twirled their flag up, planting the pole against his boot as the purple banner caught the wind.
Bella nodded. “So be it. We ride forth.”
Sayna turned to look behind her, where Indigo and her horse stood. The rabbit nodded, and began giving the army orders.
The armies of the other courts seemed to be receiving the same from their own captains and generals, even the scraggly group Sandingomm had amassed over the course of their raids.
And within seconds, all of Mossflower moved down the hill, toward the river. When they reached it, Bella held out a paw and commanded it, and Sayna watched the water change. 
It grew far more reflective, like glass. It caught the reflection of the washed-out clouds above perfectly, like a mirror.
And when Dancer stepped upon it, it held her. It held the entirety of all four armies as they crossed, and Sayna looked warily at Bella as she stood close to her, waiting. She didn’t seem half as tired as Sayna had been expecting… just the normal level of tired.
It took some time for all of Mossflower to cross too, an hour at least. But when Bella released the water at last, she only seemed slightly more weary.
Sayna took her place between Tynek and Torrin at the head of her army again, and they began the trek toward the Greeneye encampment. 
They drew battle lines when they were at least two hundred feet away. And the Greeneyes were well aware from the rushing and scrambling they were doing. Not that Sayna had doubted they’d be seen, but she couldn’t help but notice the enemy’s disorder. 
Some sections of their lines formed sooner than others, some group’s armor shone more in the sunlight. Some held banners, some did not. 
Yes, there were more of them, a lot more of them, and from what she’d heard Sayna doubted this was more than a fourth of their forces. But she was fairly certain some of them were actually tripping over each other to get into their places.
Eventually, about five of them rode out, and stopped a hundred feet away, out of arrow range.
Gingivere turned in his seat. “They expect us to send our own messengers. To discuss terms of a meeting.”
Bella nodded. “One from each court, then.”
Sayna glanced at Tynek, and then they looked to Indigo, as one.
“Who should go?” Tynek asked.
Indigo looked like she wished she could be the one. Instead, she looked over her shoulder, calling, “Tine?”
The brown rabbit rode to her side. Indigo nodded. “You’ll be representative of the court of mice. And keep your head on your shoulders, I need you back here, alright?”
“Yes corporal.” He said, glancing at Sayna. Then he rode past them all, waiting a little in front of the court of mice for the other messengers. Whegg soon joined him from Sandingomm’s court, then a brown other… Glyn might be his name? And the silver-furred squirrel from Redfarl’s coronation. Finally, a riderless kelpie with a blue mane joined the others, and all went forth.
Sayna fiddled with a tuft of Dancer’s raven-blue mane until she flicked an ear in her direction and gave her an annoyed look.
“Sorry.” Sayna let go of Dancer’s mane.
Dancer sighed. “It’s fine. We’re all tense.”
Sayna couldn’t see much of the meeting, and she certainly couldn’t hear it. But after about five minutes of discussion, both sets of messengers turned and began walking back to their respective sides.
They weren’t running, so Sayna took that as a good sign.
Each messenger headed for their own court, and Tine stopped a few feet from Sayna. “My king, my queen. Tsarmina Greeneyes has agreed to a meeting with Sir Gingivere on the terms of his claims. It has been decided all the heads of state will be present, on both sides.”
“Now?” Tynek asked. 
Tine shook his head. “Tomorrow, at the sun’s zenith. It shall be held where the messengers met, between each army.”
Sayna wrinkled her nose. “Tomorrow? We have to go all the way back to Brockhall… again?”
They’d already brought the army out and had to return home once in this war.
“Oh no.” Indigo spoke from behind her. Sayna turned to the rabbit. She was shaking her head. “We’ve drawn lines, there’s no leaving. We make camp here.”
Sayna blinked. A real, honest to goodness war camp? She’d only ever read about those in books, though she supposed if Tsarmina had one, they should too. And leaving truly would seem like retreating.
“I don’t like it though.” Indigo flicked an ear, shooting Tine a little glare. “You couldn’t have arranged a sooner time?”
“Trust me, her generals wanted that too.” Tine shrugged. “But apparently, from what I’m picking up, Tsarmina is set on making her brother wait as long as possible.”
Indigo huffed. “Obnoxious brat.”
Sayna couldn’t agree more. Indigo sighed. “Well. I guess we’ll need to send someone for tents. There should be some in Brockhall… what a pain.”
She spoke even as her horse turned away and trotted toward the assembled army. Her voice eventually faded from Sayna’s ears. And with that, Sayna found herself sitting on Dancer’s back, between her fellow marks, staring at the tents of the Greeneyes.
Hooves stomped. Voices murmured. Boots shuffled. 
But there was nothing to be done except follow Indigo’s advice. And the other courts seemed to realize the same thing. 
It took several hours to set up tents at the edge of the Moss, though wisely, all decided the hill overlooking the river on their side would be the encampment. Bella solidified the water again, so the soldiers could cross.
Sayna helped Indigo set up the command tent, even if the rabbit claimed it was not a queenly activity.
She grabbed a rope and hauled back on it, pulling a swath of green fabric up. “I need something to do, Indigo.”
She wrapped the rope around a wooden peg Tine was driving into the ground. “If I must sit around anymore I will go mad. And we all know that’s not a good thing for me.”
“Is it for any Bloodwrather?” Indigo asked as she tossed a rope to a nearby squirrel. “But I suppose I understand, my queen.”
They got that tent up fairly quickly, and then set to work on the others. Sayna thought a single tent for just her and Rose seemed rather ridiculous, but Indigo would hear of no less. Though she did agree to stay with them, at Sayna’s insistence it was wasting valuable space.
Even with the hours it took to set up camp, after the firepit was established, the patrols sent out, and the scouts dispatched, Sayna still found the sun had hardly even begun to set.
She wandered a bit, with nothing better to do. The squirrels had camped in the trees… literally. Their tents were suspended in the branches, some hanging from them like strangely beautiful ornaments. Part of Sayna wanted to go in one, but the rest of her recoiled from the height. Also, the squirrels had no ladders, they simply scampered up and down the tree trunks.
The otters had encamped on the slope, near the water of the Moss, their tents blue and ivory. Sandingomm and the small vermin army had set up on the ridge near Sayna’s camp.
“Milady?”
Sayna bristled at that title, and wheeled around. The mouse Rowan stood there, and it was all Sayna could do not to snap ‘what?’ Instead, she clenched a paw, then relaxed it. “What is it, Rowan?”
“Milady, milord Tynek is looking for you.”
Oh thank Ignasa.
She smiled a little. At least Rowan wasn’t trying to court her like apparently everyone else. “Where is he?”
“The command tent, milady.”
Sayna nodded. “Very well. Thank you for telling me.”
She turned and hurried back into the camp, for the green tent that was to be their base of operations until further notice. Sayna lifted one of the double flaps and stepped into the spacious area, lit by warmly glowing lanterns.
Tynek, Torrin, and Rose all stood around a simple table with papers spread on it.
“Time for a battle planning session?” Sayna asked as she joined the group.
Torrin grimaced. “Well, at least we have the time for one.”
He shrugged. “It could be worse.”
Indigo walked through the tent flaps a moment later and joined them, looking at the parchment on the table. It was a crude depiction of the Moss, and the two camps; woodlander and Greeneye. 
“We can assume that if the meeting of nations is to be held here…” Indigo pulled a pebble from her satchel and placed it on the map between the river and the Greeneye’s camp. “Then the duel, provided it’s agreed to, won’t be far from there.”
“Right.” Torrin was nodding. “If Gingivere wins, he can began to work against the Kotirian vassels diplomatically.”
Sayna looked to Torrin. “And if he looses?”
“We fight.” Tynek said, matter-of-factly.
Indigo shook her head. “If he loses we retreat to this side of the Moss and hold. This hill is steep, and somewhat defensible. The squirrels will be in the trees with arrows. Milady?”
She turned to Rose. Rose nodded. “I have fifty archers. The terrain here is rocky, we will use it to our advantage.”
“Right.” Indigo said. “My king?”
Tynek paused for a moment, then said, “Sayna and I will lead the attack?”
Indigo nodded. “That being said I believe it best you stay on our side of the Moss to kill any who do manage to cross. If it is needed, join Warthorn’s soldiers in the Moss, but understand that the cold water will pose a problem.”
She placed a light colored pebble at the Moss’s edge. “And I figure Torrin will stay with you, as will I.”
Sayna glanced to Torrin, to find he nodded.
Indigo straightened up. “Really, that’s the best we have. If we lose the Moss, we retreat to Brockhall. If we lose Brockhall we retreat to Hran-forias. If we lose that, we retreat to the final outpost, and truly, it will have been an honor to serve you, my lords and ladies.”
Sayna felt a pang of guilt. How many would die for this, if Gingivere lost?
He has to win.
She took a deep breath, and she found herself nodding as she looked around the familiar faces. If this was to be their end, at least she would face it among friends, though she wished they might be spared.
If they succeeded, she would attend her brother and sister’s wedding, as odd as that sounded. She would see their kits, and watch Brek fully grow up. Perhaps there would be a future for her with Torrin, though she might be getting ahead of things, to think that. She would rebuild the court of mice, and see the day it regained its lost glory.
And if they failed, they would all be corpses on a battlefield. 
As she met the gazes of her companions, she knew they must be thinking it too.
Finally, Tynek said, “For Mossflower.”
Everyone nodded, and echoed him, Sayna included. Then Indigo excused herself, and Rose asked Tynek to walk with her. Sayna turned to Torrin. “I’d like to… check on Gingivere. Just to see how he’s doing, you know?”
“I suppose you should not visit the neighboring camp alone.” Torrin smiled a bit. “I think I could be a reasonable guard.”
They walked from the tent, into the slowly fading winter’s light. And neither said a word as they strode through the camp, creatures parting before them. In that moment, Sayna noticed her steps had grown sure, and quick. Not dainty, nor graceful, but the stalking steps of a dragon.
She walked like she knew where she was going. And none had to part the way for her.
When she and Torrin reached the vermin camp, Gingivere was not hard to find. He sat by the already lit fire, and there were no more then five tents to begin with. 
Gingivere looked up as Sayna approached, seeming… occupied, at least mentally. “Er… may I help you, your highness?”
Sayna paused, and then sat on the log beside the hulking form of the cat. Torrin joined her, after a moment. Sayna turned to meet 
Gingivere’s gaze, saying, “Actually, I was wondering if I could help you.”
Gingivere blinked. “I… how?”
“I don’t really know.” Sayna admitted. “I felt like I should ask. After all. Our fates rest on you.”
When his shoulders slumped a bit, Sayna realized how unhelpful that was. She sighed. “Sorry. I don’t mean to stress you.”
What did she always find relaxing?
“Would you like a duel? A practice one?”
Gingivere slowly looked up at her, ears lifting off his hair as his eyes widened. “A duel… with a Luke?”
Sayna held up a paw. “Oh, I won’t Bloodwrath.”
From beside her, Torrin nodded. “She’s quite a good sparring partner, sir. I can attest to that.”
“I… just…” Gingivere paused, and then smiled a bit. “Do you have any idea how many times I fantasized of such things as this in kit-hood? Milady Luke, I would be more than honored to accept your invitation.”
Sayna blinked. “Well… it’s no great thing…”
Gingivere shook his head. “If I die this week, at least I’ll have fulfilled one dream.”
He looked away, but smiled still. “And that is a great thing.”
Sayna felt the smallest sensation of tears, somewhere, and quickly stood. “Well, where should we have it? I’ll need a normal sword…”
She glanced at Torrin, who shrugged. “You can borrow mine if you swear on Ignasa not to break it.”
He was probably thinking of her duel with Tynek at the festival. 
“I won’t, I swear.” Sayna said. She had no intent of using Bloodwrath for anything until she knew the way to fight it.
Gingivere stood too, and he towered over her. Sayna realized that this would be the first time she even sparred with someone so tall. 
This… would be an interesting experience.
They settled on sparring in the gap between the camps of vermin and mice, since there weren’t trees in the way. Sandingomm came to watch, as did Brek, and Whegg too. Indigo and Tine appeared on the side of the mice.
Torrin drew his sword and held it out, and Sayna took the hilt with a nod. “Thanks.”
She turned to Gingivere as he drew a sword longer than she was tall. She stared at the weapon, asking, “How long of a blade is that?”
He twirled the sword, holding it up and sighting down it. “I’d say a little over five feet.”
“Whoa.” Sayna knew she was far more fascinated then scared. “That’s amazing.”
Gingivere shrugged. “My old sword was nearer six, but I was stronger then.”
Again, Sayna had to wonder where Bella was getting these things. But she slid into a defensive stance, and asked no more questions. 
Gingivere did too, and waited. After a moment’s pause, Sayna lunged forward with an experimental thrust. Gingivere parried, and she found her arms flung to the side by the force.
She stumbled a little, and Gingivere paused instantly, asking, “Are you alright?”
Sayna spun, using her over compensation to bring extra power to her slash. Her blade slammed into Gingivere’s with a clash, and she said, 
“Fine!”
She grinned up at him as she leapt back. “I’ve never fought a cat before. I didn’t know what to expect.”
“We’re strong.” Gingivere said.
Sayna laughed. “I can see that. At least I’m getting some experience sparring, eh?”
He nodded and advanced this time, and Sayna blocked his massive blade with a two-pawed parry, she didn’t trust much else.
She dodged to the side, lunging close and under his sword as he raised it. She pinned her blade against the back of his legs, and he froze. After a second, Sayna stepped back to find Gingivere blinking down at her. She smirked. “I was taught by a fox, it’s not so terribly different.”
True, Gingivere had a good two feet on Groddil, but still.
He shook himself. “I… wasn’t expecting you to move so offensively. I fear I am used to the art of swordplay… and an emphasis on the art bit.”
“Use every advantage.” Sayna twirled her sword deftly, quoting Groddil. “Even if it’s underpawed.”
Gingivere raised an eyebrow. “That sounds like a vermin maximum I have heard.”
Sayna smirked. “As I said, I was trained by a fox.”
She held out her sword questioningly. “Again?”
Gingivere blinked, and then grinned. “Of course, if you want.”
“I’m bored.” Sayna said. “Your sister has made things incredibly dull, so you can make it up to me.”
She hoped he would take that as lightheartedly as she meant it. And after a moment’s pause, he smiled, and seemed to.
They drew quite a crowd over the several bouts they sparred. Once Sayna found herself on her back with the tip of Gingivere’s sword at her throat. Once he found her behind him, blade pressed against his back, on the spine. And Sayna found that really, once they understood each other’s fighting styles, they were evenly matched.
After their fifth round, Sayna noticed Gingivere seemed to be tiring. She sheathed her sword. “I have seen what I wanted to.”
He blinked at her, and she smiled. “Mossflower is in good paws.”
In the light of the glowing lanterns all around and the sun setting at their backs, Sayna was sure she saw the glimmer of wetness in Gingivere’s pale green eyes. But he just sheathed his sword, placed a paw to his chest, and bowed. “I thank you for those words, Queen Sayna. Truly.”
He glanced at Sandingomm, who was grinning and nodding. 
Sayna stretched a bit, then looked over at Torrin, where he stood near Indigo. She walked to him, holding out his sword.
He paused before taking it, then asked, “Would you like to spar with me, milady?”
“You know how I feel about that name.” She snorted, because of how mischievously he was grinning. “But you also know I would, sir.”
Sayna ended up borrowing a sword Indigo found for her, and she dueled Torrin until the sun had completely set, and Rose came to tell them dinner was ready. Then they gathered around the large bonfire to get stew and bread. Sayna ate her’s with the others around the campfire, some of their army sitting around with them. There were no high tables, no real distinction. And so long as no one tried approaching her about courting, Sayna found she liked it better that way.
Dinner ended, and creatures slowly retired or took up guard positions as the cold night settled over all things. But Sayna remained in her seat by the fire, beside Torrin, with Rose at her other side.
She let them all talk. Even Tynek joined in, and Indigo too. 
She wasn’t tired, not really. But she wanted to hear their voices, not her own. She’d learned those voices well, some over the years, some over the last months. But she loved them all.
She closed her eyes and tried to pretend it would always be like this. That not one of those voices would ever be silenced, and that she would hear them all her days.
“You know, as nice as this is, I should probably get some sleep.” Torrin’s voice, though it was lower then she’d last remembered. 
Sayna blinked her eyes open to find the fire had gone from flames, to embers. When… had that happened? She shifted, to find she’d somehow ended up leaning against Torrin, and she started upright, heat rising to her cheeks. “Uh… I… mean…”
She’d fallen asleep? She hadn’t hardly done anything today!
She looked around, to find Rose was smuggly grinning at her. Sayna internally groaned, then looked sheepishly to Torrin. “I… sorry.”
He glanced over at Rose, and then smirked, fangs showing as he did. “As my girlfriend, you do not need to apologize for using my shoulder as a pillow. However, we could have a battle to fight tomorrow.”
He stood, stretching a bit. “So goodnight. I’ll see you in the morning.”
With that, he walked away, leaving Sayna stunned as to what had just happened. As soon as he was gone, Rose leaned over, smirking, “Nice one.”
“I did not plan that!” Sayna protested. “I… think I’m going to bed too.”
She stood, flustered, and hurried to the tent she and Rose were to sleep in tonight. There weren’t really beds, more pallets than anything, and Sayna curled up on one with a clink. Sleeping in armor was blasted uncomfortable, but she wasn’t taking it off.
The rush of adrenaline was fading now, that no eyes watched her. She pulled a blanket over herself, and admitted that would have been very smooth if she’d intended for it. Except she’d just fallen asleep like a complete idiot, and couldn’t remember a bit of it. 
But then… if she ever did find herself with the opportunity again…
Stop it.
What had her mind even become?
The tent flap rustled, and the swish of a skirt filled her ears as Rose sat nearby. There was silence a moment, and then Rose said, “You know, none of us are judging you. You can be more open about it; it was pretty cute.”
Sayna opened her eyes enough to shoot Rose a little glare. “I didn’t intend to fall asleep on him. I don’t know why I’m tired…”
She paused. “Well, I guess I didn’t sleep much last night.”
Rose slid closer, and the smile faded a bit from her face. “Are you alright?”
“It’s just the immortality thing.”
Rose sighed, then glanced around. “I… don’t know if it’s weird, it’s been so long. But… can I sleep with you tonight?”
Sayna blinked. Rose folded her paws, and looked down. “Like when we were kits, and I’d have a nightmare…”
She paused, and giggled nervously. “How I wish they were all I had to worry about.”
Sayna lifted her blanket. Rose paused, then crawled beneath it, curling up next to her. That was strange, to experience again. Rose closed her eyes, then sighed. “If this is to be my last night on earth, I’d like to be near someone.”
Sayna smirked. “Not Tynek?”
Rose smacked her on the shoulder, actually the metal pauldron. “We aren’t married yet, don’t be weird!”
Sayna laughed, before looking into the roof of the tent. “Sorry. I couldn’t resist after all the times you’ve teased me over Torrin. It really was the perfect opportunity though, wasn’t it?”
Rose sniffed, though Sayna heard the laugh in her voice. “A truly chivalrous sister wouldn’t have taken it.”
“You would have, though.” Sayna remarked.
A pillow smacked her in the face, and then Rose curled up by her side, laughing, “Goodnight! You sass.”
Sayna smiled, pulling the pillow from her face. “Goodnight, Rose.”
She closed her eyes, and listened to the tromp of boots off in the night. It formed a strange melody, with the crackle of campfires and keening of the cold wind. At some point that lullaby it sang helped her drift off to sleep.
Morning came long before Sayna was ready for it. 
She did awake first, to find Rose snuggled by her side and Indigo curled up on a pallet across the tent. Sayna stretched, and carefully stood, trying not to wake her sister. And she actually succeeded.
She slipped from the tent into a misty winter dawn, silvery clouds of vapor low to the Moss. It was clearer here, on the hill, but Sayna could not see the water itself, as the valley the river made was coated in the fog. She walked to the central firepit, blinking when she saw the creature who tended it. Urran.
Sayna walked to her father’s side, and he looked up at her, standing quickly.
“Oh, Sayna! I have something for you.”
Sayna blinked, then remembered what it was. Urran pulled the old book from his satchel, holding it out. “There are some new parchments in the front, that’s what I could transcribe. It would help if our friend Aileen had better paw writing.”
“Aileen?” Sayna asked. 
“Yes, Aileen Luke.” Urran nodded. “That’s who this belonged to. I believe she was the youngest sister of king Ewing Luke. If I’m correct, this journal is indeed three hundred years old.”
Urran shrugged. “So yes, this is the ancient form of the old script. But Aileen is also very quick of paw in her writing. It seems she never intended this particular book to survive for posterity. Odd, how fate happens. The formal records were lost, but this little book survived, against the odds.”
Sayna took the book, holding it. “Aileen.” 
She said the girl’s name, her ancestor. Another soul who’d fought with Bloodwrath. Sayna hoped she had won. She smiled at her father. 
“Thank you.”
He nodded, and turned back to the fire. Sayna wanted nothing more than to run off and read what he’d transcribed, but she made herself pause. “Why… are you here, may I ask?”
He sighed. “Germaine is here to save whatever wounded we may have. I am here to help her.”
Urran stared into the fire. “All the time I spent running from this war. And here I am, a healer on the front lines.”
He looked up at her. “Truly, Ignasa works in strange and wonderfully terrible ways. But I will run no farther, nor try to hide from the eyes that see all. Who am I, that I should defy him?”
“Who are any of us to try?” Sayna nodded. “I have come to the same understanding.”
Urran nodded, then turned back to tending the fire. And after a moment, Sayna slipped away, book held against her chest. She found a rock near the tent she and Rose had shared the night before, and climbed up on it, crossing her legs with a clink. 
She could see straight down into the cold river mist, and hear the splashing, though she still could not see the river. Somewhere, out in that mist, was the Greeneye army. Sayna took a deep breath, and opened the book.
“What can you tell me, Aileen?” Sayna muttered to herself. 
The new pages sat in the front, with Urran’s familiar tight paw writing all over them. Sayna blinked. He’d made a lot of notes. She smiled, feeling just a bit warmer in the chill of a gray dawn.
She pulled the first sheet out, reading. 
It has grown so strong, of late. They say I am fine. They say it is normal. But I do not feel fine, curse or no. Every time she comes her whispers grow louder, her laughter darker. She says she is me, but I am not her! I cannot be the thing she is. And yet… I am. More and more we become one, and this cannot be what Ignasa wanted for any in our family.
Sayna felt tears prick the back of her eyes, felt their betraying tickle. She took a shaking breath, and pushed forward.
Am I this thing? Am I Bloodwrath? She claims that I am. Over and over she says it and she has entered my dreams and in my waking hours I see her crimson face in every mirror. She laughs and says this is right.
I’m starting to believe her.
Sayna had to pause. Bloodwrath could enter dreams and alter perception? She shuddered. No. No, never! She never wanted to see Bloodwrath again, let alone when she tried to sleep. 
After a moment, Sayna looked down at Urran’s transcriptions once more.
She does not wish me to speak of Ignasa. She hates him.
That made sense. Urran had written a page number under each snippet. They were in order, but some far apart, and Sayna knew she was missing so much. She supposed it was the best any could do.
That is why I must try to find him. I have learned the things she hates are what I should seek. Perhaps she has learned how to read this. If so this is the end for me. If she knew I sought to turn against her master, she would see me dead.
Her master. Our master. Who is my master? I do not know anymore. Perhaps I have become a kit of the Dark Wolf, just as her.
Perhaps I am her.
But I must know. If I never write in this again, Maith dom.
Sayna blinked at those words, the normal old script. They begged forgiveness, and Sayna swallowed. She flipped the page over, blinking at the next entry.
She lied. It. It lied. It is a treacherous snake of Malimore, and it lied. It murmurs in your mind, convinces you that it is a part of you. It’s a disease, a vile illness. Filth. May it rot in the chains Ignasa helped me bind it in. It told me it lived in my mind. But it never did. Bloodwrath is tied much deeper, a stain on the soul itself. It told me it could do whatever I could, that it was as good as me, my equal in every way. But it lied.
It knows my hate, not my love. All it will ever know is hate, and my darkest desires.
Sayna paused, mentally changing that to fear. 
It feeds off hate. It wished me to believe it reigned over my soul. But there is one far greater than Bloodwrath who holds that claim. I have lost my power yes. But I have found something better than it could ever be. This strange thing called peace.
I can unlock it if I must.
I hold the key.
Someday, I might. But fear the day it returns, for to bind it again will be tenfold harder than the first time.
And on the day its whispers grow loudest, its face haunts your every memory and thought; on the day your body no longer hides the thing you are becoming and the ugliness inside spreads past your fur itself…
Níl aon éalú
Sayna slowly set the paper back in the book as she murmured, “There is no escape.”
Those final words sent a shiver down her spine.
Bloodwrath could become that powerful? She had never seen the curse in her dreams, and certainly never in the waking world, so Sayna found some comfort in that. But she could see it. Before Salamandastron, Bloodwrath had never spoken to her, and now she did often.
Sayna shuddered, and wished Aileen had been more specific on the methods of binding the curse. But she was starting to think it was unique to each creature who tried it.
She slipped the book back together, and into her satchel, where her clawtips brushed over her journal. She pulled it out, found her quill and tightly corked ink, and began writing. She copied all of Urran’s translations, making note of where they came from. Then she added her own observations.
At some point, the tent flap behind her rustled, and someone climbed onto the rock with a clinking. Sayna glanced at Rose, who laid her head on her shoulder. “You’re up already?”
“I can’t sleep as long as I used to.”
Rose frowned, but Sayna shook her head. “It’s not a bad thing. I’m feeling no adverse effects, I just need to figure out how much I really need to sleep now. I still do, just not as much. Like eating.”
“Ok.” Rose said, but Sayna knew she was hardly convinced. She supposed there was nothing she could say to make her sister not worry.
And how could she even describe being immortal? It really was difficult.
Like her life was sustained by something… outside of it. Some force not her own. She could feel the magic flowing through her veins, tingling ever so faintly at all times. 
She closed her book, and wrapped an arm around Rose. “I really am fine. I’m not just saying that.”
“You said you were fine when you dislocated your shoulder jousting.”
Sayna sighed. “It wasn’t really dislocated until I fell on it later. It was…”
She stopped herself from saying ‘fine’. She rolled her eyes. “It was something I lived with because I didn’t want to take the time to fix it. This isn’t like that. I feel better than I think I ever have, really.”
Rose raised her eyebrows… she’d never been good at raising just one… but nodded. “Alright.”
She wrapped her arms around Sayna, and they sat like that for awhile, watching the white winter sun rise and the mist fade away. And when it did, Sayna could see the dark stain that was the Greeneye encampment, far out on the horizon of the flatlands. It spread across all she could see like a black stain, one that moved amongst itself with each tiny creature.
It greatly reminded Sayna of when Rose had knocked over a barrel in their old barn in Evenglade, and a nest of spiders had scuttled out over the floor. Rose had been treed on said barrel, wailing for Sayna to do something.
Sayna smirked.
Rose looked up at her. “What’s so funny? I could use some humor.”
“Uh… just memories. Of when we were kits.” Sayna shook her head, not really wanting to tell Rose she’d snickered at her expense.
“Come on you two.” Sayna turned, saved by Indigo as she slipped from their tent. “I know you’re having a moment, but we should eat a good breakfast and form ranks. Sun’s zenith will come before you know it.”
Indigo was right. Breakfast flew by… Sayna actually ate some, mostly eggs and fried greens. She skipped the bread though. It just wasn’t as appealing as it had once been, and besides, meat was what she needed in the case she had to Bloodwrath. Though after reading Aileen’s words, Sayna wasn’t sure she even wanted to try.
They drew battlelines for the third time in this war, and an hour before sun’s zenith, they marched forth.
Again, Sayna found herself on the plains, facing the Greeneye army, sitting on Dancer between Tynek and Torrin. She recalled Warthorns words from yesterday and had to wonder, when Tsarmina saw Mossflower, would she tremble? Was there anything they could do to make her tremble?
An awning had been erected in the middle of the plain, between the two armies. It was black and green… of course… and Sayna found she was unsure if she was ready for this.
But then, for all her power, the times she had seen Tsarmina, Sayna had not found herself terribly intimidated. 
With that in mind, as the sun rose to its highest point, Sayna did not feel much fear at all, as Dancer trotted forward, the others around or behind her. Torrin held the flag again, and he twirled it up, planting the pole against his boot, the banner catching the wind. 
Indigo, Tine, and several others trotted behind them, but the bulk of the army stayed at the river’s edge.
Warthorn, Spring, and several other otters joined them, along with Birch, Redfarl, the silver furred squirrel, and few more from their court. Bella rode to their left, Germaine on a pony by her side. Sayna turned to look behind her, to see Sandingomm and Gingivere, riding side by side, Brek and Whegg a little behind them.
Someone was missing though, and Sayna suddenly realized who. 
Where was Argulor?
On a hunch, she looked up.
She didn’t see him for a moment, and then he crested the black branches of the trees above the river, swooping down after them. And Sayna grinned, because if anyone could make Tsarmina tremble, it was a phoenix.
Or a dark dragon, but the sun would burn them.
The pavilion in the middle of the dry, swaying grasses grew closer, and Sayna could now make out the many soldiers around it. Though really, their were far fewer than Sayna had expected, so either she was overestimating Tsarmina, or Tsarmina had underestimated them.
The structure of black cloth had an open front, something that faced Mossflower. And as they neared, Sayna was pretty certain she could see the queen of a thousand eyes sitting on a fancy chair inside, guards everywhere.
Suddenly, Warthorn and his otters sped up in a trot, and Birch and the squirrels did too. 
They passed Sayna, banners fluttering, and she blinked. 
Tsarmina’s soldiers braced themselves, but both otters and squirrels stopped a good twenty feet away, as Warthorn’s black kelpie reared, clawing at the sky. It let out a terrible, clucking hiss as it let it’s hooves touch the ground, and it was all Sayna could do not to shudder. Beside her, Solain grinned, smile spreading behind his violet and black eyes.
“Mother is very good at intimidation.” Solain sounded rather proud. 
It was odd, to think of Warthorn’s terrifying mount as female. And yet… fascinating, in a way.
Sayna steeled herself as she neared the tent, and Dancer arched her neck, prancing as high as she could. When they stopped, she reared, and Wildfire did too. Solian ruffled his neck gills… Sayna hadn’t known that was even possible… and made one of those terrible clucking hisses too. 
Some of the Greeneye soldiers stepped back. Dancer stepped to the right, and Wildfire stepped to the left, making a spot for Sandingomm and Gingivere to ride through. Whegg and Brek followed them.
Bella and Germain stopped to the left of the otters, and Argulor landed with a heavy, rustling thud to the right of the assembly, sparks flying up around him.
More of Tsarmina’s soldiers stepped back, and she stood quickly, gripping a long, thin object at her side. Sayna had to stare. She was certain Tsarmina meant to look intimidating, in her angular black and green outfit trimmed in fur. But she’d worn a dress to a battle, or at the very least, what would probably end in a duel. And Sayna found it a rather ridiculous notion. 
There wasn’t anything inherently wrong with dresses, Rose wore them all the time. But even she wore a practical skirt with high slits over chainmaille for this occasion. 
Sayna got the feeling Tsarmina’s dress was supposed to be alluring, but she also could only invision an integral part of it slipping off her at some in-opportune time. Which really, if that happened, Sayna highly doubted she would be able to hold in her laugh.
After moments of silence, Tsarmina waved a paw at a rather familiar red fox to her left. “Ranulf. Tell these peasants in whose presence they stand.”
It was odd, to see Ranulf again. And even odder to see him obey another. But he stepped forward, saying, “To the Mossflowerian rabble, you are in the presence of Tsarmina Greeneyes, Lady of realms, sovereign of the Mid-lands, and Queen of a Thousand Eyes.”
Warthorn chuckled, and Sayna blinked at him as he snorted. “So she wants to play that game? Spring?”
His daughter grinned, and dismounted as he did, their soldiers with them. She walked a little ahead of him, stopping just feet from the tent itself. “To the usurper, you stand in the presence of Warthorn Naoth, master of the river, lord of Teain-Hann, and king of all otters.”
Sayna blinked as Birch swung down from his mount, helping Redfarl from hers as the other squirrels joined them, taking up defensive positions as they too walked forward. When Birch spoke, Sayna was sure his jaw was clenched. “To the imposter, you are graced with the presence of Queen Redfarl, Lady of Hran-forias, ruler of the wood, and queen of all squirrels.”
Indigo walked past Sayna, grinning and motioning for her. She must have dismounted at some point. “Well, come on. If we’re all showing off anyway, let’s get in on the act, eh?”
Sayna glanced incredulously at Torrin, then Tynek, and what she could see of Rose. Why were they bothering with all this? But she slid from Dancer’s back, and her fellow marks dismounted too. They all walked toward the tent, Tynek directly by her side, while Torrin and 
Rose were a bit behind them. 
Tynek glanced at Sayna as they stopped outside the cloth awning, and he seemed just as confused as her. No. Probably more confused. 
“To the malignant fraud, you dare to look upon the mighty Tynek and Sayna Luke, the heirs of Kotir, son and daughter of dragons, wielders of Bloodwrath, Uniters of Mossflower, and King and Queen of all mice.”
Indigo said it all with a grin. She really was in her element; though Sayna had never known she had so many titles and had to wonder if Indigo had improvised. Especially on the ‘son and daughter of dragons’ bit.
Argulor ruffled his feathers, sending sparks flying. Sayna felt the momentary itch of fear behind her eyes, imagining the entire dry prairie combusting.
No. No. That wouldn’t happen, Argulor had to be consciously putting on a show, because he wasn’t continually sparkling with living embers like he was currently. Sayna forced herself to breathe, and calmly.
The phoenix strutted as he said, “To the unrestrained vandal, I need no one to introduce me. I am fire. The flames you set to our trees have only fed me, and my brethren hold fury for the forests you ruined. When you set one boot across our river we will feast upon the flesh of your armies, for any who harms our woods so callously will feel our wrath.”
He twisted his beak upwards, voice taking on the tone of hissing, crackling coals. “I am king of the court of Myth, and we are waiting, little cat. We are waiting.”
Sayna held in her smirk. She knew that twinkle behind Argulor’s glowing gold eyes. He was enjoying this.
The Greeneye soldiers, on the other paw, looked far less enthused. Sayna was honestly surprised none of them bolted, though she was fairly sure a lot of them wanted to.
Bella and Germaine walked forward, and Germaine stuck her nose primly in the air.
“To the deceiver, you are witness to the mighty Lady Bella, Prophet of Ignasa, she who speaks to the river, and high judge of all Mossflower.”
Germaine adjusted her glasses, giving the assembled Greeneyes a curt little nod.
Finally, Gingivere and Sandingomm stepped forward, Brek and Whegg with them. Gingivere kept his voice completely even as he spoke, something Sayna found she had to admire him for. 
“To the murderer, you are before Sandingomm Keir, ruler of vermin in Mossflower, queen of the reforged throne, rightful lady of the Mid-lands, true heir of Theas-Lidir, and watcher of things to come.”
Throughout the entire affair, Sayna had noted that Tsarmina looked progressively more annoyed and insulted with each insult they gave her. Though she had possessed the mental capacity to glare fearfully at Argulor when he spoke. However, for all of it, the moment Gingivere stopped speaking, Tsarmina leapt to her paws, pointing at Sandingomm. “My crown! You dirty little thief!”
Sandingomm grinned, putting her paws on her hips. “Ya stuck it in me shoulder, an’ ya know what they say. Finders keepers, losers weepers.”
Gingivere stared at her. Sayna snorted, and multiple coughs rang out, from what Sayna thought to actually be both sides.
Tsarmina sputtered. Sandingomm batted her eyelashes innocently. “Well, why would ya stick it in me if’n ya wanted it back? Not very smart a ya.”
More coughs. Tsarmina glared around at her soldiers, before snarling, “I was trying to kill you, fool!”
“Ahem!” Gingivere cleared his throat. “We are not here for petty insults, we are here to discuss claims against you, Tsarmina.”
“Oh, you want claims?” Tsarmina stuck her nose in the air. “You’ll get claims, Gingivere. Scribe! Read him the list of infractions he has to his name!”
Gingivere raised an eyebrow, and crossed his arms. Sayna found herself wanting to copy the stance. What could Gingivere have possibly done to his sister? He’d been in prison, after all.
A rat scurried forward, glancing nervously at Tsarmina, and then almost pleadingly at Gingivere. Sayna got the feeling the poor creature deeply wished she did not have to be involved in this whatsoever. The rat held up a scroll, and began unrolling it. Sayna raised one eyebrow. That… was a very long list.
The scribe cleared her throat, wincing in Gingivere’s direction, before she began. “Uhm. You, Gingivere Greeneyes, stand accused of the following. Multiple accounts of destruction of property, including but not limited to; burning the royal palace, attempting to steal the queen’s scepter, dismantling of three priceless tapestries, complete destruction of thirty-one of the queen’s prized dresses…”
At this point, Sayna heard Torrin choke on a laugh beside her.
Sayna glanced at him, and he grinned, whispering, “The rope, remember?”
And Sayna did remember. She clamped her paws over her mouth, trying to hold in her own laugh, though a bit of one still escaped through her claws.
Thankfully, the scribe hadn’t stopped reading, so attention was elsewhere.
“Multiple accounts of assault on the queen, including poisoning her and putting her body in a trunk…”
Torrin snorted again, but Sayna looked to Gingivere. Honestly, he looked far more baffled than anything else. Really, half of these things he’d probably not even heard of.
The scribe kept going. “One account of defamation, by removing the queen’s skirt so she was forced to adress her army in her undergarments…”
Sayna saw Gingivere snort, losing his composure for a moment, though it seemed far more from shock than humor.
The rat licked her lips, and pressed forward. “Three acts of war, burning two thousand soldiers to death and over forty raids of villages where none survived.”
Sayna thought of Sandingomm’s new subjects, and rolled her eyes. She couldn’t help but remember Nell, the girl who’d offered to help them burn her own village if it meant freedom from Tsarmina.
“And spreading the plague to all the Greeneye lands.” Said the scribe.
Gingivere actually laughed, a mirthless sound, and Sayna couldn’t blame him.
The scribe rolled up her scroll, saying, “And finally, solicitation of two Bloodwrathers, creatures slated for death, to kill his majesty Verdauga Greeneyes.”
Tsarmina curled her lip. “So how do you plead?”
“How do I plead?” Gingivere took a step forward. “I do not plead anything, Tsarmina. You have no case against me. Your claims of murder are false, and these other things could not be my doing, as I was rotting in prison, where you put me.”
He took a deep breath, and Sayna noticed his thick, striped tail switching back and forth. “As for the outbreak of Distemper, blame yourself. You locked me in chains because you feared to face me in court. You knew you had no case against me, so you starved me unlawfully in hopes I would die. You did what you always do, you hid from your problems and hoped they would go away. Let all of Kotir know that the reason their families are dying around them is because you lied about me, and were too cowardly to face the consequences of your actions.”
Tsarmina’s right paw clenched over her slender, javelin-like weapon, and she sneered, “What actions? I have done nothing.”
“You solicited our father’s murder, not I. And you paid Necromancers to do it, paid them with the life of one loyal to you. I know everything, Tsarmina. Do you honestly think Verdauga would fall to Bloodwrathers? He hunted them to near extinction in Mossflower!”
Sayna heard the mutters of the Greeneye soldiers, at that.
Tsarmina trembled, though the blazing rage in her eyes nullified the idea it might be from fear. “He was old!”
“He was strong, regardless.” Gingivere flicked his ears back. “But even he could not have won against dark magic.”
Tsarmina bared her teeth, and jabbed a claw in Sayna and Tynek’s direction. “They are dark magic. Do you honestly expect anyone to believe any to take what you claim as truth when you stand among these lesser woodland scum? You’ve thrown your lot in with them, and they are barely mortal. They’re things, only good for service and slavery, like your nasty little pet!”
She spat in Brek’s direction, and Sayna felt her hackles raise. She’d expected Tsarmina to be insulting, but the jab at her brother made Sayna wonder what the queen of a thousand eyes would look like with a flaming sword impaling her.
Beside her, Sayna saw Rose grab Tynek’s paw, and gently slide her other paw up his arm. That was a good thing, because Tsarmina’s speech had elicited a slight pink haze to start forming around Tynek’s lower eyelids. He took a quick breath, looked at Rose, blinked, and after a moment, he nodded.
Gingivere opened his mouth, but Tsarmina snarled, “Look at you. Father would be disgusted, he would have never even looked twice at a woodlander.”
“Father.” Gingivere lifted his chin. “Would be proud.”
Sayna blinked. And everyone else seemed to as well. Silence fell over the assembly, until Tsarmina sputtered, “What? You’re delusional… see? He’s insane!”
She looked at Ranulf, but the fox stared intently at Gingivere.
Sayna knew all eyes were on the former prince. He remained completely collected. “I survived unjust imprisonment, and frankly, torture. I made decisions that would preserve my life, and improve my standing. I chose to stand with the creatures who decided to place at least a little value in me.”
He smiled a little. “You never did understand father, did you? Verdauga led those willing to stand with him, whoever they were. Yes, he led through tyranny and brutality but do not think for a second that if the woodlanders had bowed the knee and the vermin had resisted, their roles would not have been reversed. Yes, he turned the vermin of Mossflower to him, but only because the commonality of species made it easier. You do know he brutally slaughtered the entirety of our grandfather’s kingdom as examples because his father resisted him, don’t you?”
Sayna just stared as Gingivere shook his head. “Yes, Verdauga made the woodlanders our slaves, because he thought it was the easiest way to control them. This was never about specie to him. It was always about power, and pity any who got in his way.”
Tsarmina snapped, “But you didn’t kill anyone, you’re weak!”
“No.” Gingivere said. “I didn’t. I didn’t have to. I have done the one thing father couldn’t do, and for that, I do think he would be proud, in his own way. But there is one creature I may kill.”
He glared her down. “You. You refused me my right to trial, so you will give it to me now, by combat to the death. The survivor is innocent, the defeated guilty. It is simple. It is brutal. And that right is written into the laws of the Greeneyes; you have no grounds to refuse it!”
“You are no longer a Greeneyes.” Tsarmina sneered.
Gingivere smiled grimly back. “Tell me. Whose fault is that? Whose fault is it that I was forced to flee, and under whose reign does a once great kingdom burn and choke on it’s own miserable breaths? Tell me, Tsarmina. Who?”
And she did not answer. 
There was silence, broken by the murmurs of her soldiers, and the stamp of their boots.
Gingivere’s smile widened. “Are you a coward as well as a murderer? If anything, father would be prouder of my work than yours. He always did despise a coward.”
Tsarmina bared her teeth. Gingivere looked behind her to the other fancily dressed creatures under the pavilion. “And what say the vassals? Will you sit by and let your king’s murderer sit on his throne until what he established rots from the inside out? When your bones are so fragile they shatter like glass, how hard will it be for Mossflower to rend what remains of your carcass? And I shall say nothing in your favor on that day, for you said nothing in mine.”
The five creatures, Ranulf among them, began whispering to each other.
Tsarmina took a step forward, snarling, “Fine, Gingivere of the woodlands. You want a fight? I will give it to you. And after you lay dead at my paws I will tear your precious woodlands down, burn their remains, and slay every last one of your pets that draws breath, down to the infant not a day old. All shall know my name and tremble, and I hope that in whatever Hell you burn, you know it is your fault. Were it not for you, I may have had mercy.”
She twirled her thin, black and silver weapon up, pointing the long obsidian blade on one end at Gingivere’s chest. “You wanted me to answer? That is my answer. I will paint the world itself in your blood.”
Gingivere did not step back, or even look afraid. “Then let us duel.”
Tsarmina laughed. “Tomorrow, little boy. Play with your pets while you can. And be glad I even consider honoring filth like you with death by my blade.”
She spun on her heel, black, silken cloak flowing out behind her. And without another word, she stalked away.
Sayna took a shaky breath at last, as after a moment passed, creatures on both sides began fidgeting and moving.
Well.
They had their answer.
==Chapter 57 Sword of the Prince==
Brek stood at the edge of the vermin camp as night fell, staring out across the river. He leaned against the trunk of a tree, arms crossed.
After everything, they were here yet again.
He switched his tail back and forth slowly, watching the last red rays of sunlight fade behind Tsarmina’s camp, and tried to relax. It would be fine. It would. Gingivere was the best sword-wielder Brek had met.
Well. He had been, before his imprisonment.
But he’d been improving so much! He could lift the sword Bella had found for him, he remembered all the stances, and he’d done well in his practice sparring with Sayna the night before. Brek smiled to himself, finding he was grateful to his sister for that. Gingivere had been more than excited afterward, and told Brek how impressive his sister was, which Brek had known. But he’d been happy anyway. How long had Gingivere wanted to see a golden mouse? And he’d gotten to duel one.
Even still, Brek couldn’t forget how Gingivere’s arms had shook after only his fifth round with Sayna. And how she’d noticed, and discreetly called it off to save the little strength and stamina he had.
And he shivered. He had seen Tsarmina’s fighting style, and Gingivere would need stamina.
The one thing he didn’t have.
If only I could take this burden from him.
Brek knew even thinking that was insanity, but he still wished it. 
“Hey kit.”
Brek turned to see Whegg standing a little behind him, Gina at his side. Brek blinked at the two, shaking himself. “Er, yes?”
Whegg took a step toward him, laying a paw on his shoulder. “I just wanted ta say what an honor it’s been servin’ with ya. If’n tommorow… wull. If’n I never get another chance ta tell ya, I wanted ya ta know.”
Brek stared up at Whegg as he gave his shoulder a squeeze, then let go. Gina didn’t let go of Whegg’s paw, but she smiled at Brek, an actually genuine smile, or as close to one as Brek expected she could manage. “Whegg has always said good things about ya, Brek. He’s real proud a ya, always has been.”
She glanced down a bit, then looked up again. “I… ain’t always good at talkin’ ta other creatures, but I hope we’ll have the chance ta talk more, once this is all over.”
Brek said nothing for a moment, and he just blinked. He didn’t think he’d ever heard Whegg’s girlfriend say that many words. But he smiled shakily after a moment, and he nodded. “Yeah. I… hope that too.”
He just hoped he’d be able to talk to anyone after tomorrow, and his head wouldn’t be on a spike.
“Hey.” Whegg said, kindly. “I think ya should talk ta Gingivere. He’s more down’d he like ta let on, I fear.”
Brek nodded as Whegg said, “Sandingomm’s tryin’ ta make him feel better. Still. Ya know how she is.”
He wrapped an arm around Gina, saying, “We have a few others ta talk ta ‘fore tomorrow. But I’ll see ya on the battlefield, kit.”
Brek just nodded again. Because at one level or another, this confrontation would be a battlefield. He watched Whegg and Gina walk away, and took a long, deep breath. Sleeping had been hard these past days, and relaxing harder. And he needed sleep.
Once Gingivere won this, Brek knew a great weight would be lifted from his shoulders.
If he won this.
Brek sighed and started inward, toward the command tent, since that was likely where Gingivere would be. Whegg might not have specified where the prince was, but Brek knew Gingivere would be going over his detailed battle plans yet again.
The tent’s flap was a little open, and sure enough, Brek could see Sandingomm and Gingivere inside, Gingivere bent over his table coated in maps.
Brek paused just outside when Sandingomm slipped an arm around Gingviere. For a moment, Brek decided perhaps, it was best to watch. He’d never quite determined the relationship between Sandingomm and Gingivere and Brek could not deny his curiosity.
She patted him on the back. “It’s gonna be alright.”
“How are you always so sure, Sandingomm?” Gingivere ran a paw down his face, musing the front of his hair as he did.
“I’ve seen our future.” She smiled up at him. “That’s the nice thing bout seein’ it sometimes. Ya know the good with the bad. An I know ya gotta have six kits a’fore ya die, so ya really can’t die.”
Brek blinked. Gingivere stared at Sandingomm. “Six?”
“Yeah, I never told ya how many kits ya was gonna have? Wull that’s poor fortune-tellin’ on my bit.”
Gingivere shook his head. “But you never saw their mother, you said so yourself.”
Sandingomm blinked, then laughed a bit and patted him on the shoulder. “Gingi honey. I never see meself in me visions, even if I’m involved. Didn’t I never tell ya that?
Brek knew his face probably matched the look of blank wonder on Gingivere’s. Finally, the cat stammered, “Then we… I… you knew since the day we met?”
“Gingi, one’a them kits was gray. Now I ain’t no genius, but I’m no fool. No mother? Gray kits? Where’re ya gonna git a gray kit, I wonder?” She smirked. “So I figured it out in a couple minutes.”
Gingivere still looked stunned. “I don’t… know what to say.”
“Eh. Ya don’t gotta. We’ll figure it out after all this. Everythin’s gonna be ok.”
Gingivere turned to her. “But the courts… and we said…”
She stepped closer to him, and slipped a paw to his cheek. “Win this duel, and they ain’t gonna try’n stop us. I know I can’t let this on out in the open til ya do but… I’ll kiss ya if’n ya want. Fer luck or whatever. But mostly cause I want ta.”
“I… yes… if you think…”
And Sandingomm did kiss him.
Brek stepped silently behind the tent flap, wondering if they knew it hung slightly open, and doubting Sandingomm cared. Still, he didn’t really want to watch that. After a moment, Gingivere dazedly said, “So… you knew all along.”
“I know a lot’a things, Gingi.” Sandingomm said, then sighed, “Sometimes more’n I’d like ta. Sometimes I wonder how nice it’d be ta be normal an’ oblivious.”
“It’s not nice.” Gingivere assured. 
Brek really did have to agree. But Sandingomm said, “It’s only nice if ya see good things. Happiness. Love. Victory. But try seein’ the bad sort once or twice. I’ve seen the void a death more times’n I can count or would care to.”
There was silence a moment, before Sandingomm murmured, “All except fer me. I never see anythin’ fer me, except what I kin guess from those around me.”
Brek peered around the corner of the tent flap, to see the two were hugging. He decided to discreetly slip away and walk around the camp twice before approaching the command tent again, and this time calling, “Gingivere?”
He warily pushed the tent flap fully aside, to find that Sandingomm and Gingivere were standing by the table of maps with absolutely no indication of their earlier display. Gingivere’s tail still twitched with what had to be an undercurrent of restless energy, but he looked far happier than before Sandingomm had… well. Been Sandingomm.
And Brek was happy about that, though he wondered if Gingivere even needed his help anymore. So much for Whegg’s assumption of Sandingomm not being comforting. 
Brek suddenly felt rather stupid. “Er. Whegg said you might want me.”
Gingivere nodded. “Actually yes. I’d like to go over our battle plans again. You will be taking my place as Sandingomm’s advisor should things go wrong, after all.”
However he sounded far less worried about that then he probably would have just minutes ago. Brek sighed, and nodded. “Of course.”
He couldn’t help but feel a little replaced. 
He wasn’t… jealous, was he?
No, Brek didn’t think so. But all the older creatures around him were moving on with their lives, entering relationships, and getting married. And would they need him after they’d found the loves of their lives and started their families? 
Would anyone need him?
Or would he just fade from importance, purpose fulfilled before his life had hardly begun? What would he do then?
But he just took a deep breath, and walked to Gingivere’s war-table. “Alright. Why don’t you show me?”
The few hours before bed, Brek spent going over the plans, eating dinner, and doing a little training. Sandingomm did her best to explain simple magic, like shields and telekinesis. Truly, she did. But all that happened when Brek attempted to levitate a mug, was that it flickered straight into his paw. 
He knew he should ask a more experienced Prophet. But Groddil was at Brockhall, Bella spent almost every free hour in prayer, and Germaine was busy prepping for the possible battle. And Luna was helping her gather supplies. Everyone seemed too busy, Brek reasoned. And he didn’t want to bother anyone, especially when he could use magic. Just… highly advanced magic. Magic Bella had told him, he shouldn’t have learned for years.
Meanwhile, he could do none of the basics.
Brek crawled into his pallet that night with a sigh, and prayed Ignasa would show him how to fix this. 
It was too much magic, Germaine had said. Too much too fast, and most not only started their journey older and stronger, but built up to the kinds of things he could just… do. That was why his stomach hurt so badly when he teleported, why all the blood in his veins seemed to rush to his head.
He placed a paw over his torso and clenched his already closed eyes shut. “Please, Ignasa.”
Brek whispered, “I want to do this right. Show me how to do this right… and I know. I know I need someone to teach me, I just…”
He just didn’t want to bother them. He was the one who served. Anything else… felt wrong somehow. Wasn’t that his whole purpose in life? 
To serve? This was the path he had chosen. 
And he’d ask. 
Just… not when everyone was so otherwise occupied. Until then, he’d just try to figure it out.
Brek yawned and curled into a ball, pulling his blanket around his shoulders. Praying always relaxed him. And he was so very tired…
“Hey, kit!”
Brek mumbled, wearily uncurling and lifting his head to see Whegg stood in the tent’s doorway, and a morning sky lit the surroundings behind him. Whegg frowned. “Ya alright?”
“Y… yeah.” Brek blinked hard. He felt like he’d fallen from a horse. 
He shook himself, untrimmed orange hair falling in his face. When… had he last had Whegg cut it? Not since last winter. It had to have been over a year. Brek shook himself. That wasn’t important, not now. 
He stood, and with Whegg’s help, donned simple leather armor with a bit of chain and light metal plating. It was a bit large, but fit the best Brek imagined any armor could on his scrawny frame. Once suited, he pulled his hair into a tiny ponytail on his neck, some curls falling out and drooping around his face.
Then he buckled his sword at his side, and walked out into the bustling camp.
The next few hours were a hive of activity; breaking down tents and loading them into carts for citizens not in the armies to take back to Brockhall, having a quick and hearty breakfast, sharpening swords, last minute well-wishes, final armor checks, and last prayers said. At the end of it all Brek found himself mounting Grayspark, the pony kind enough to offer to carry him in these recent endeavors. 
And then they were moving, a collective of thudding hooves and crunching leaves, held breaths and muttered fears, clinking armor and shifting paws. 
Bella appeared, mounted and seemingly collected, and solidified the river again. And the entire army of Mossflower crossed, splendid and bold in the nearing midday light, but so few. Less than the royal guard that had once watched over Kotir alone.
And Brek knew better than anyone the numbers of Greeneye soldiers, written on reports that once had sat on Gingivere’s desk, back in the castle.
Again, he thought how this had to succeed.
Please. Please Ignasa.
Brek looked up at Gingivere’s armored back, as the prince rode ahead of him. 
Please let him win.
The bulk of the armies of all four courts stopped not far from the river, and the leaders, along with their advisors, generals, and guards, rode forth. Brek rode with them, both advisor and guard. Some probably went their whole lives longing for his position and never achieving it. And here he was, fifteen at best, and the right paw of a queen and a prince.
It wasn’t as though getting here had been easy, though.
Brek took his mind from his musings and looked out across the flatlands, to where, sure enough, an arena had been portioned off, partially fenced, and partially roped. Like the Greeneyes had started building the fencing only to realize they didn’t have time to finish.
On the side nearest Tsarmina’s army, flowed the glaring green and black pendants of the Greeneyes. These were clearly Tsarmina’s with her airy, swirling eye design. 
Whegg rode to Brek’s right, and though he didn’t see Gina anywhere, Brek assumed she was with Germaine’s healers. He glanced around at the others, noting Sayna riding between Tynek and Torrin, about five feet away. 
Again, he felt an instinctive twitch at the very idea of Tynek.
He shouldn’t hate him so, Brek knew. He should be the better creature. But Brek had spent the last five years being silent, no matter what happened. And how could he know if Tynek wasn’t still the rash moron who nearly killed Rose back in Marshank?
Talk to him.
Brek pinned his ears and knew he was being stubborn. But he didn’t want to talk to Tynek. He could barely look the mouse in the eye.
Rose had replaced him with that mouse, and now it felt that Sayna had too.
He was acting like a kit, he knew. And he needed to stop, it would hurt everyone if he kept this up.
But why was Tynek the one Brek had to forgive?
Why not anyone else? Well. Outside of Tsarmina. Brek looked away, noticing Redfarl and Birch on his other side. Then he turned to the dueling ground they rapidly approached. 
Greeneye soldiers stood guard over Tsarmina’s side of it, though Brek didn’t see the cat queen anywhere. 
Why should she ever be on time?
The line of Mossflowerians stopped just shy of the arena, and stamping, fidgeting hooves filled the air.
Whegg dismounted, and so did the rabbit that served Sayna… Indigo, Brek was pretty sure. A squirrel and an otter joined them, and Indigo cupped her paws to her mouth, calling, “I say, you’re going to have to let us inspect your work. We won’t see our champion caught in some pre-made trap.”
A weasel from the other side called back, “No trickery here… we made sure a it. Still. Send one ta inspect, and I’ll walk with them. I promise them safety if you promise it ta me.”
Indigo nodded, and vaulted over the rail. “I swear it.” 
The weasel joined her, and together, the two walked the arena, Indigo prodding and picking each detail. Brek couldn’t blame her for that.
The weasel with her looked very… familiar. Brek was sure he’d seen that scruffy, slightly graying face before. Wasn’t that one of Gingivere’s former guards? Yes. Brek was sure it was. It had to be.
Finally, the two stopped in the middle of the arena, and Indigo gave a curt nod. “Very well. I’m satisfied.”
She held out her paw, and the weasel blinked at her for a moment, before gripping her arm in a solid shake. Brek saw him glance at Gingivere, then quietly say something to Indigo, who nodded. The two turned from each other and walked to their respective sides, Indigo vaulting over the short wall again. 
The rabbit trotted to Gingivere’s side, and smiled up at him. “Rupert says he wishes you good fortune, sir. He says to please remember his service.”
Gingivere just blinked for a moment, then nodded, and Indigo trotted back to her waiting horse, a little behind Sayna and Dancer.
And then they waited. 
They waited until the sun crawled a bit past it’s zenith, before a group broke from the Greeneye lines and began walking slowly toward where the duel was to be. As they approached, Brek could see Tsarmina riding a large gray horse behind them, one with thick white feathering over it’s hooves.
The soldiers stopped and parted for her as she rode closer to the arena, and finally stopped a few feet from it.
She didn’t dismount.
And for a time, nothing moved. 
Finally, Gingivere sighed and dismounted with a clinking of armor. He walked forward, and Brek scrambled to follow him, vaulting from his pony and trotting to walk just behind Gingivere. 
He stopped just outside the arena, and glared Tsarmina down across it. Brek stopped just behind him.
“Well, queen of a thousand eyes?” Gingivere called out, “Are we to wait all day? Do I sense a shred of fear?”
Even across the distance, Brek saw Tsarmina stiffen.
She motioned to someone, and one of her vassals, a fox Brek vaguely knew was named Ranulf, dismounted and walked forward.
“You stand before Queen Tsarmina Greeneyes, soverian…”
Warthorn, apparently quite done with Tsarmina’s games, yelled, “We went over all that yesterday! Stop being a pompous fool and get on with it!”
Brek stared at the otter king. Then he turned to Tsarmina, as she leapt down from her horse, chainmaille swirling about her legs, and tail lashing. 
That had done it.
Ranulf walked into the arena behind Tsarmina, and Brek followed Gingivere. Because in no way was he letting him go alone, not when Tsarmina had someone at her side. 
The cat queen was elegant, Brek had to begrudgingly admit. She wore black leather over chainmaille, with a small amount of plate armor. And it all bore the eye motifs of her nation and family. And at her side in a protectively gloved paw, she held her long, spear-like scepter. 
She’d never been one to carry normal weapons. Brek wrinkled his nose a bit. Tsarmina saw herself as above that, as a lady too fine to have a sword. Instead she had that impossibly thin scepter that was almost a javelin and almost a spear, and yet functionally neither. Brek had to wonder how she really expected it to hold up against a sword.
Tsarmina stopped a few feet away, and as she did, Gingivere did the same.
Ranulf stepped forward, pulling out a parchment. “The rules are as follows. Any methods necessary to fell your opponent are allowed. There will be no aid from your respective soldiers, but any assets are free to be used. Should a weapon break, obtaining a new one is permissible. The battle is not over until one combatant is standing, and the other is dead.”
Ranulf folded his paper. “We will leave the sectioned off area, and the two of you are free to fight as you see fit.”
Brek met Gingivere’s gaze, and he nodded.
But Brek lingered for a moment, just one. Because if he never met Gingivere’s gaze again, he wanted to remember him like this. Noble. Facing down his worst foe.
Then Brek nodded, and turned away walking back to Mossflower’s side of the arena and slipping under the rope. He wanted to lean over it, to grip it in his paws… but Brek forced himself to step back and stand properly beside Whegg. Once Ranulf exited the ring as well, Tsarmin tossed her spear into the air, deftly catching it. She bared razor fangs at Gingivere, who drew his sword and stood his ground, adopting a defensive stance.
Brek gritted his teeth, and Whegg laid a paw on his shoulder as Tsarmina stalked around Gingivere, tail lashing. 
He didn’t flinch.
He didn’t even flinch when she lunged, bringing a wide slash at his side. Gingivere just brought his sword up, deftly blocking the attack. 
But he didn’t advance either. He stayed still as Tsarmina leapt back, scepter oddly intact for the solid hit on Gingivere’s arguably far stronger sword. Tsarmina hissed at him, sliding into a defensive stance, then beginning to stalk around him again when he didn’t advance.
Tsarmina lunged for Gingivere’s back with a fury-driven thrust, and he spun, parrying it to the side. The razor tip of silver stabbed the air just inches from his cheek. And even still, he barely blinked at it.
To close… Brek drew in a deep, shaky breath as Whegg patted him on the back. 
“It’s alright, kit. It’s alright. The prince knows what he’s doin’.”
Brek nodded as Tsarmina snarled, “Are you just going to stand there? And you dare call me a coward!”
Gingivere’s face remained impassive. Brek knew that face… no, mask. The look of indifference, of cool control. Gingivere wore it most when his world was crashing down. Brek tried not to let that thought consume him.
Tsarmina growled low in her throat, and her tail got progressively thicker as her fur stood on end. 
And still, Gingivere remained motionless, tail swishing slowly back and forth, never taking his eyes from Tsarmina as she slunk around him, fangs visible as her poison green eyes burned with fury.
“You think you can come out here and back me into a duel, then do nothing and taunt me?” Tsarmina spat at Gingivere’s boots. “Fight like a prince, not a mouse!”
She attacked again, which Gingivere blocked. But still, he did not advance.
Beside Brek, Whegg was nodding. To take his mind off the stress, he looked up at the much taller rat. “Whegg?”
“He’s tryin’ ta let her wear herself down. Then he’ll attack. An’ she’s playin’ right into it. He don’t got the stamina she has, so it’s a good strategy. Only flaw is she’ll figure the game out at some point.”
Brek looked back to the cat siblings… because they were siblings, though it felt somehow wrong to think of them as that. Though their fur and eyes betrayed their common ancestry, their true selves clashed so dramatically it really was hard to consider.
Tsarmina attacked again, and this time Gingivere swung his sword with more power, sending Tsarmina staggering to the side. And he did attack this time, bringing a two pawed slash down at her in her moment of weakness. Tsarmina thrust her scepter up to meet it, though she cried out at the impact and Brek saw her arm shake under the force of Gingivere’s sword. Tsarmina rolled away, leaping to her paws and glaring raw hatred at Gingivere as she clenched her paw over her somehow still intact weapon.
Gingivere held his ground, and waited.
Brek swallowed. His heart pounded in his chest and his breathing was too shallow, and only Whegg’s reassuring paw on his shoulder kept Brek from either collapsing, or doing something stupid.
He’d given up everything, for Gingivere. His life, his family, and even the innocence of kithood. He couldn’t even really remember kithood. 
Gingivere was his brother, as good as one. And if he died here…
No. No, he wouldn’t. He couldn’t. Sandingomm even said he wouldn’t. 
Brek turned to look at the gray cat, sitting on her ebony horse. She leaned forward, watching intently, and though there wasn’t true fear in her eyes, she did seem tense. 
Brek looked back to the duel as another clash rang out and Gingivere blocked yet another slash, staying still, ready.
There was always a first time for everything.
What if Sandingomm was wrong?
Tsarmina screeched in pure rage, attacking with a barrage of slashes and thrusts that forced Gingivere into retreat as he blocked each one flawlessly. In response, he delivered a few blows that quickly let him regain his lost ground. Tsarmina staggered back at each, and yet her impractical weapon held against each bone-crushing blow.
Brek began to get an uneasy feeling in his stomach.
Something was off, about that scepter. He closed his eyes, and slowed his breathing, trying to just feel. Tsarmina was no Necromancer. But yet, Brek still felt the faint clinging cold, when he focused.
He snapped his eyes open, and turned to Whegg. “Whegg! That weapon Tsarmina has… it’s cursed! It has to be.”
Whegg blinked down at him, and then nodded. “Oh yeah kit, ya didn’t know that? Fortunata made it fer her. Back when they saw eye ta eye on stuff.”
Brek felt a chill slide down his spine, and for a moment, he couldn’t breathe.
Whegg patted his shoulder. “It’s alright kit, it’s alright. It’s just unbreakable is all. An’ probably poisoned.”
“Poisoned!” Brek gasped.
He felt like he’d been punched in the stomach. He stared at Whegg in what was likely abject horror. Whegg shook his head. “It’s ok, kit. Gingivere knows.”
Brek wheeled back to face the two cats as he gasped, “That’s cheating!”
“Er...no, not really. Ain’t a law against it, I’m afraid. I mean… maybe Tsarmina refrained from poisonin’ the scepter fer the sake a fairness but… let’s be honest, she’s Tsarmina.” Whegg said.
Brek stared as Gingivere blocked each of Tsarmina’s cuts and slashes with careful, honed precision. Whegg sighed. “I know it ain’t ideal, and we looked high an’ low ta stop her from the moment Gingivere came up with this idea. But I’m afraid there ain’t no stipulations on the nature a weapons in a duel ta the death.”
Brek’s paw fell to the hilt of his sword, though he couldn’t do anything. He hissed through clenched teeth, “Why wasn’t I informed about this?”
Whegg sighed. “Oh… er, I thought Gingivere would’a told ya. Er ...I probably shouldn’t a said nothin’.”
After a pause, Whegg muttered, “Hellgates.”
But the damage had been done.
Brek could barely stay still. He wanted to run to Gingivere’s side, to draw his sword, to fight beside his prince.
He couldn’t. He had to let Gingivere do this.
He had to.
Gingivere lunged, executing a perfect combination of slash and thrust. Tsarmina leapt back, falling and bracing her paw against the ground, as she kicked upwards, her metal clad boot slamming directly between his legs.
Brek winced, and he heard Whegg do the same beside him.
Gingivere staggered, retreating several steps, though to his credit, he kept his eyes open and his sword in his paw, though his impervious mask had shattered and pain was written all over his face.
Tsarmina catapulted herself from the ground, lunging with a forceful thrust in the same movement. Gingivere ducked to the side, but his movements were clearly strained and clumsy. 
No… Ignasa, please! Brek could feel the tickle of tears in his eyes as he clenched his paw over his sword hilt. Wishing he was there. Gingivere blocked the next two cuts Tsarmina threw at him, but she moved like a whirlwind, and Brek knew it must be all Gingivere could do to stand upright.
Tsarmina’s teeth were bared, and she aimed to finish this fight. 
She lunged forward, and Gingivere brought his sword up in defence, but his movements were weaker, and Tsarmina must have relied upon it. She blocked the blade with her metal-braced arm, thrusting the obsidian sword end of her scepter at Gingivere’s eye. 
He ducked to the side, but the stone blade tore across his cheek, blood flying as it did.
Brek gasped through clenched teeth, as all his body’s functions seemed to freeze. He couldn’t move. 
No. 
That couldn’t be the end.
Gingivere fell to the ground, catching himself in a crouch and blocking Tsarmina’s next attack with an overhead parry. The mask he always wore had vanished, and Brek saw his own panic mirrored in Gingivere’s eyes.
The cat leapt to his paws, and he lunged for Tsarmina, blade flashing. Back and forth, over and over, one resounding clash of metal after another; neither Greeneyes held back. 
And as they did Brek felt everything he had worked to build crumbling beneath him.
Where he’d conserved energy before, Gingivere held nothing back now. Sword and scepter glinted in the pale winter sun, clashes a near constant. 
He knows he’s going to die.
Tears filled Brek’s eyes, and they blurred his vision. Angrily, he rubbed them away.
Gingivere hit Tsarmina with a vicious slash, and while she blocked it, it still sent her flying into the wooden portion of the arena. She collapsed to the ground and Gingivere took a step toward her, lifting his sword, but his arms were shaking. Brek choked on a trembling breath as one of Gingivere’s legs buckled, and he fell to one knee.
Tsarmina staggered up, voice laughing, like a kit who’d won a game, just twisted and demented. “You should let me kill you now, brother.”
She spat the word as she picked up her scepter. “It’d be a mercy in the face of having your insides melt over the next hours. Then again, that would be more fun to watch.”
Gingivere growled as he stood again, wincing as he did and clapping a paw to his stomach. When he spoke, a bit of saliva dribbled from his mouth. “You have no right to call me that. I am not your brother.”
Brek felt more tears come. What would he do, when his prince lay dead and Mossflower burned?
 
“Oh Ignasa.” Brek whispered, clenching his paw over his sword hilt. “Why?”
Let me never hide like my father.
The tears dripped down his cheeks then, and he did not stop them. I will be in your land tonight.
Brek took a shaking breath. I knew this might be my fate. But why Gingivere’s, why everyone else’s… no!
He stared back at the arena as Gingivere fell to his knees again.
“Fate may be changed.”
Brek jumped, still a bit unaccustomed to that voice in his head. But it brought him comfort, a tiny shred of it, and a shred he clung to.
“Was this what you wanted?” Brek whispered, in a voice broken by tears.
“None of it.”
That small voice. So soft. So kind, and so powerful, all at once. 
“Is it so evil to want to stop this?” Brek blinked hard as Tsarmina walked forward, twirling her scepter.
“Is it evil to protect your brother, Brek?”
Brek froze, as Tsarmina placed the obsidian blade’s point under Gingivere’s chin, and she grinned. “You’re right. You never were my brother. And you never will be.”
She pulled back, raising her scepter above her head.
And Ignasa’s voice rang in Brek’s mind once more. “What would this avail?”
Nothing. Gingivere’s death would mean nothing. War would still come, and this duel was rigged from the start. Brek felt the warmth flow around him, because he knew what he wanted, he knew his choice.
In his heart he was there, between Tsarmina and Gingivere, the one to stop that unjust blow. In his mind it was already done.
Reality flickered, and shifted just as he drew his sword.
For a moment Brek felt like he’d been punched in the gut, as his vision warped, then reformed. He saw his sword fly from its sheath, saw blue fire spring down the blade, and saw his thin sword slash clean through the armor of Tsarmina’s torso.
She staggered back with a screech, blood spattering to the ground as she fell.
Brek fell too, back against Gingivere. The cat caught him with a trembling paw. He sounded confused. “Brek… what…”
“You are my brother.” Brek said, vision wavering, not just from his tears. 
He shook his head, feeling hollow again, like at Amber’s trial. “I couldn’t let you die. And… what would it avail?”
“I’m dead anyway, Brek.” Gingivere’s eyes were dull, and blood dripped down his cheek. He sluggishly looked to Tsarmina, laying in a gasping heap nearby, blood dripping from her mouth. “What you did… will cause open war.”
Brek nodded, his sight clouding. 
He should have been resting. “It was coming anyway. This way they won’t have a leader.”
“You cheated!” Gingivere sounded upset, though tired.
Brek fell back in Gingivere’s arms, murmuring, “I didn’t. I am a slave to them. I am an asset, an object in their eyes, aren’t I? How am I different from Tsarmina poisoning her weapon?”
Gingivere just stared, and partially in what Brek thought might be wonder. 
He took a deep breath, and dizzily closed his eyes. His stomach roiled, but he didn’t have the strength to throw up. Not really.
Anyway, they’d probably both be dead in a couple minutes.
“Besides, I swore my sword to you.” Brek whispered. “On Ignasa’s name. And far be it from me to break that oath.”
The world was a blurry place, full of shouts and orders and screeches of pain. Then jostling paws and being grabbed by someone, and jolting steps as he was carried away. 
Please.
Brek wished he could say it, but his voice no longer worked. 
Let me stay with him.
It was no use. 
And the world faded away.
><><
Sayna ran for Dancer, Brek in her arms. Sandingomm was dealing with Gingivere. They had a matter of minutes.
She slid under the ropes of the arena, hearing Tsarmina’s screeches of pain as her own generals or vassals dragged her away. Whatever Brek had done had wounded her badly, and drained him of everything.
His head lay against her shoulder, his sword was tucked under her arm, and really, she was surprised she’d had the clarity of mind to grab it. 
Torrin came running toward her, and he held out his arms. “I’ll take him.”
Sayna nodded, giving Brek to Torrin, and gasping, “Thank you!”
She wasn’t used to carrying creatures. She ran beside Torrin, glancing over her shoulder. Sandingomm was getting Gingivere onto her black horse, and Sayna was in time to see her leap on behind him.
The Greeneyes were running for their own army, and Sayna turned back to hers as she neared Dancer and swung onto her back as Warthorn shouted, “To the Moss! Prepare to hold the river!”
Torrin got Brek and himself onto Solain’s back, and within seconds, Sayna was leaning over Dancer’s flying mane as the world became a symphony of pounding hooves. They were all she could hear, that and horses breathing as they ran. Argulor swooped overhead, and as they neared the river, Sayna heard Bella’s shout to command the water. Tynek rode beside her, and he called to their three hundred. “Cross the river! We hold the hills!”
They didn’t hesitate.
Similar directions were being called out to the rest of the courts, and Sayna gripped Dancer’s sides with her knees as her friend bolted across the river, then loped up the hills beyond.
Germaine, Urran, and Gina were near where the war camp had been, and Torrin and Solain ran straight for them.
“Follow them.” Sayna told Dancer as Indigo began calling instructions to the army.
Dancer trotted over as Torrin leapt from Solain’s back, and Urran reached up for Brek. 
At that moment, Sandingomm’s horse slid to a stop nearby. She leapt to the ground, catching Gingivere as he nearly fell to it. Her arms shook, and Sayna ran to help, though she doubted she did much good as they laid the cat prince down.
Sandingomm did sound more frantic than normal as she looked to Germaine, crying, “I donno what’s wrong with him!”
Sayna looked at Gingivere, and found he did not look well. His eyes were fluttering, and saliva dripped from the corners of his mouth as his breaths came rapidly. Germaine hurried to his side as hooves rang out and Whegg leapt from a horse’s back, running to them as he breathlessly called, “He’s been poisoned. The cut on his cheek.”
Germaine nodded and began examining the wound. Sayna stared at Whegg. “Tsarmina’s weapon was poisoned?”
Whegg shrugged. “Tsarmina always poisons her scepter thing… whatever it’s s’possed ta be.”
“Well.” Sayna wrinkled her nose. “I guess I don’t feel bad about Brek’s cheating, then.”
“He didn’t really cheat.” Whegg shook his head. “In their eyes he is an asset. He was a slave and slaves are things to the Greeneyes. He’s the same level a cheatin’ as Tsarmina’s poisoned scepter. Smart little kit, he is.”
Whegg looked over to where Urran and Torrin were kneeling over Brek, then back to Gingivere as Germaine looked up.
“Well, that kitty-queen clearly knows nothing of poisons.”
Sayna blinked, and Sandingomm clasped Gingivere’s limp paw tighter. “What’da ya mean?”
Germaine pulled a jar from her satchel and began smearing a dark paste over the cut on Gingivere’s cheek. “Well. You’d think if she really wanted him dead, she’d have used a much more lethal poison than this. This is relatively easy to treat.”
Gingivere murmured, and Sandingomm stroked his messy hair.
Germaine shook her head. “Honestly. She’s such a fraud she can’t even properly poison someone. Everyone knows that if you want to kill with poison, you pick a poison that acts too fast to bond to charcoal and be drawn out. Not one that would take upwards of a week to be fatal.”
As Germaine worked and grumbled under her breath, Sayna thought that no, everyone did not know that. But still, one would think Tsarmina would. And that she’d be especially careful on what she chose to use on her brother, a creature she seemed to truly despise.
“So he’ll live?” Sandingomm sounded excited again.
“Oh I expect so.” Germaine said. “If any of us do. He’ll throw up a lot and he might lose all the fur near the wound, but he shouldn’t have much lasting damage. Not with how fast I’ve gotten to treat it.”
Germaine closed her eyes, and blue swirled around her paws as she held them over Gingivere’s facial wound.
Sayna looked back to the hill behind her, and the river beyond it, which she could only hear. Surprisingly, she heard no shouts of warning or approaching warcries. Torrin stood too, and hurried to her side. “Brek’s alright, just exhausted.”
Sayna nodded, thinking of her conversation with Brek at Redfarl’s coronation, and how he admitted he hadn’t been sleeping well. That made sense. 
Gingivere groaned as Germaine pulled back with a paw, and a stringy mess flowed from the cut, held in her magic. It wasn’t a lot, just a few silvery drops, mixed with blood. Germaine wrinkled her nose and flicked it away into the underbrush. “Nasty stuff. Anyway, I’ve removed the better part of it, and the rest he’ll have to ride out.”
She turned to Sandingomm, and began giving detailed instructions.
Sayna looked to Torrin. “I think this is covered, we should help Tynek and Rose.”
He didn’t argue and swung onto Solain’s back as Sayna did the same with Dancer. Dancer trotted toward the battle lines, asking, “So the poison wasn’t lethal?”
Sayna kept her gaze ahead; she had to stay focused. But she still said, “No, I think it would have been, it just would have taken days to kill.”
She paused. “Which is odd. You’d think if she uses poison, Tsarmina would know better than to make such a foolish mistake.”
Then again, Sayna had no praises for the cat-queen’s mental capacity.
But even still…
“My queen!” Indigo called her over. “My lord!”
Dancer turned to trot in the rabbit’s direction, and Torrin followed. Indigo’s horse stood near Tynek and Rose, and the corporal spoke as soon and Sayna was close enough. “There’s been no move toward us of yet, though they seem to be forming ranks… if you want to be generous. I’ve not seen such disorder in awhile. That being said I would expect an attack within the hour.”
“I wish we had a castle.” Torrin said.
Indigo bobbed her head. “You and me both, my lord. I say we lay in wait, disappear as it were. Let them get as close as we dare before springing a small ambush. Make them think that maybe we retreated.”
Sayna found herself nodding, as Rose spoke up. “I’ll get our archers in position.”
“Good.” Indigo said. “I’ll tell the other courts our idea. I’m certain they’ve already considered it.”
As Indigo rode off, Sayna looked into the trees, seeing the squirrels hiding on the branches that would lurk behind the trunks from the Kotirian’s position. Yes. They had thought of it.
She took a deep breath as Dancer kept walking forward, to the edge of the hill’s crest, where she stopped. Out on the flatlands, the Greeneye soldiers swarmed into the semblance of ranks, large black squares forming a living, breathing patchwork.
So many. And that wasn’t half of them.
Thuds rang out as Tynek and Wildfire walked to stand by her side. After a moment, Tynek said, “If I cannot tell you later, I am glad you are my sister.”
Sayna met his brown eyes, slanted just as hers. And tears pricked at the corners of her vision, before she said, “I did not treat you well, Tynek. I… am grateful to start over, but… why?”
He cocked his head. “Why… what?”
“Why forgive me so easily?” Sayna asked, still staring into his eyes. “I deserve you to never look me in the eyes again, for the things that I did and said.”
Tynek thought for awhile before nodding. “I… suppose some creatures would care about that, yes.”
Sayna shook her head. “You don’t?”
“I…” He paused, at last saying, “I have seen far worse. Listen I… do not know the right words, or what order I should say them. I fear I cannot say what I mean in full.”
He smiled. “Rose says in the Land’s Beyond, I will know how to speak. And I will tell you there, if we die today.”
Sayna wordlessly shook her head, and Tynek sighed.
“I am trying to help. I am making things worse instead.”
He looked ashamed. Sayna sighed. “It’s alright. But I hope one day you can tell me on earth, when you have had a few years to learn. You’ll have married Rose by then… you’ll probably have kits or something.”
Tynek blinked, then smiled shallowly; genuine, but wistful. “Yes. That would be nice.”
He met Sayna’s gaze in full again. “If I fall here, take care of her.”
I failed before.
But Sayna swallowed hard, and nodded. “Of course. She’s my sister.”
“And my love.” He said, not challengingly. Just something they had in common.
Dancer stomped a back hoof as Sayna asked, “Have you told her that?”
Tynek glanced a bit to the side, but he smiled, almost shyly. “Er… yes. I believe we had what is called… a moment.”
Sayna smirked. That had probably involved a lot of kissing, and while she was glad it had happened, she was glad she had missed it. 
“Good. Well.”
She looked across the river, to the army there. Immeasurable. They filled the plains like a swarm, and painted the golden grass black. 
Sayna breathed in so deep her lungs ached and finished, “I guess all is in order, and we’re as ready as we can be.”
The river itself was framed in thin bits of glittering frost, brittle sheets of ice forming in the shallows. A few weeks, and it would be a death-trap of ice shoals that even otters dared not swim among. 
“My king and queen!” Indigo called, riding behind the army. “Warthorn says to take cover in the treeline and attack at his call. We lure any crossers into direct sights of the squirrels and Rose’s archers.”
Sayna nodded, mostly to herself, as Indigo gave orders, and the army obeyed. Dancer half-reared as she wheeled around and loped for the thickest trees. Solain and Torrin weren’t far behind, and neither was Tynek. 
There they waited, as the sun slowly crawled down the gray-white western sky, lengthening shadows and stretching Sayna’s fray nerves as far as they would go.
She had done well. She really had. She’d held it together until this point.
“If they wait too long, it’ll be dark.” Torrin said, “And you know, that’d be better.”
Yar and Yaz. Sayna nodded absently. That would be helpful, but could she really wait that long? Yes, she could. She’d already survived days of Bloodwrath tickling at the back of her mind, longing to be free.
But it got harder every time. It always did.
Ignasa…
Sayna closed her eyes, and tipped her head back a bit, so she could feel the weak, fading winter sun on her cheeks. There was something… comforting about that name, Why exactly, she couldn’t say. But when she said it, she saw him again, with his glowing white cloak and eyes that one look into made all her accomplishments seem like less then one drop of rain. They were eyes that had seen everything, since before the realms were even made, and eyes that would see things even after they ended.
And for it all, he had knelt in her tiny, insignificant soul, and held her, and called who she was inside beautiful.
She lowered her head, and when she opened her eyes, her vision was already blurry, and tears dropped onto her gauntlets, nestled in Dancer’s mane.
Sayna moved to dry them off, thinking this was why she hadn’t thought much about that day, or re-read her journal entry about it. It was too much, really, wouldn’t it be too much for anyone?
Unfortunately, her gauntlets were metal. And her shoulders were cased in metal too. There was nowhere to dry her tears.
She sighed, and resigned to let them itch as they soaked into her fur.
Torrin looked to her, asking with a bit of concern, “Are you alright?”
She smiled for his sake. “Yes I… was stupid and thought of something emotional, and now I can’t wipe my tears because everything I’m wearing is metal. It’s fine. It’ll go away, it’s just annoying.”
Honestly, the predicaments she got herself into.
Torrin opened his mouth to say something, but a scout ran up, dodging through the trees.
“My king, my queen.” The scout’s voice shook. He was a boy, Sayna realized, younger than her. Sixteen at best.
The young mouse's hazel eyes gleamed with fear as he said, “They’re coming.”
Sayna nodded, and opened her mouth to respond, but Tynek was the one who spoke. “Thank you.”
He paused, then said, “You are brave, to come here on this day. Be strong.”
The kit blinked, then squared his shoulders. “Yes, my king.”
Then he hurried off, probably to convey his message to Rose. Sayna looked to Tynek, asking, “ You’re giving encouragement?”
Tynek shrugged, watching the scout go. “I have felt that fear before.”
He paused, then looked toward the river’s valley. “And I feel it now.”
“We’re here with you.” Torrin offered.
Tynek smiled, and nodded, then looked away. “I am glad. But I am not afraid for me.”
He stared flatly into the west, where Sayna could start to hear a rumble. After a moment, she realized it was the tramp of boots, just so many they were as the waves on the shore.
Tynek patted Wildfire’s mane, before saying, “I have never been afraid for me. Not that I remember.”
I have always been afraid for me.
And Sayna froze, because she realized something, like a boot to the face. She wasn’t.
She could hear the growing thunder of likely ten thousand boots, and she wasn’t afraid for herself. For Rose, Torrin, Tynek, Brek… for everyone else, yes. But not for her.
Yes, it might have something to do with the fact she’d already taken an arrow to the neck and survived. But it ran deeper. A calm.
Ignasa sent her back for a reason. 
She laid her paw on her sword hilt. 
She had a job to do, and a country to save.
Dancer tossed her head, ebony horn gleaming in the slowly setting sunlight. Sayna wrapped her arms around her neck for a moment, whispering, “Thank you, for always being here.”
Dancer laughed nervously. “I wouldn’t miss it. We’ve worked hard enough for this, I wouldn’t back down now.”
Sayna nodded and straightened up, and those infernal stomping boots filled all things, like the drone of insects on the last warm days of autumn. Indigo rode up to them, horse picking its way through the dense trees they hid in. She drew one of her curved blades. 
“No matter what you hear, wait for my scouts’ report to give your commands. Our army is no use in the river, it would just get them killed.”
Sayna nodded, knowing that this part out of all of them, would be the hardest.
Then the thunder of boots stopped. There might be a hill in her line of sight, and she might not be able to see, but Sayna knew the Greeneye soldiers had stopped at the river’s far bank.
A rustling crackle filled the silence, and Sayna looked up as the surroundings got lighter and the shadows shifted. Argulor had lighted in the dark branches of a nearby tree, and his feathers sparkled with living embers.
He glanced down at them, and he smiled as best a bird could smile. 
“Ignasa bless you, lads and lassies. If we never meet again, I’m proud to have called you comrades.”
Sayna felt tears prickle at the back of her eyes, as Argulor shuffled his golden claws, ruffling nearly flaming feathers and sending a shower of tiny sparks falling. “Now. It’s time to burn some Greeneye hide, if I do say so myself.”
He shrugged, as Sayna heard the thunder of boots begin again. “You know, I did warn them. Some creatures never learn.”
Argulor took off in a shower of sparks, sweeping through the branches of Mossflower and bursting into the open sky above. He circled around, a flaming speck in the white winter sky, and Sayna swallowed. More fire.
On their side, not ours. She reminded herself. Argulor drives them into the river, the otters take down as many as they can, we deal with whatever gets across, and the squirrel’s do too.
She drew in a deep breath as she heard the sudden roar of flames, and saw their light as all the shadows shifted and flickered. And the screams began.
Argulor wouldn’t have much time, a mere five or so minutes. 
Grass would burn like tinder, in the face of his flames, and once he was out of fuel... Sayna turned to Indigo, asking, “Should we get closer?”
Indigo’s face was set, her brown eyes hard as she stared in the direction of the chaos that filled Sayna’s ears, yet none of them could see. “Hold.”
Sayna swallowed, closing her eyes.
The sounds were truly terrible, shrieking, the yipping warcries of otters, the clash of metal, and the slosh of water. And really, it was the sheer amount. Together, all of it became deafening.
Sayna counted each second as Bloodwrath tore at her mind. 
She almost found herself tempted by the silence of her soul, where the shrieking demon she had to face was a little less monstrous than the face of open warfare.
She pinned her ears, growling under her breath.
No. I’m staying. For everything I’ve dared to love. They need me here. 
But the silence.
It called to her as Bloodwrath tried any tactic, any way of trying to drag her back to that void of darkness, where she would stay as she tore creatures apart with no regard to friend or foe.
Sayna counted exactly three hundred and twenty times, before a mouse came running toward them, gasping, “Some have reached our bank!”
Indigo’s horse half-reared, as she raised her drawn sword. “Now!”
Sayna drew her sword in a shower of blue flames, screaming, “Mossflower! To me!”
She had to let out her anxiety somewhere.
Dancer started forward, at a trot, then launched into a run. The sounds of hooves and swords being drawn followed Sayna, as Tynek and Indigo’s horses ran on either side of Dancer, Torrin and Solain a little behind.
And they crested the ridge, and Sayna could see the river.
She’d never really considered what Hellgates looked like, but in that second, Sayna knew if she had, it would be this.
On the grasslands, Argulor’s fires raged, casting all in a red glow.
In the river, the water adopted the hue, but Sayna was sure the color had actually changed, and the Moss now ran red. Bodies choked it, and most of the otters had backed onto Mossflower’s side of the river, as Sayna imagined they couldn’t really swim in that.
And even still, the Greeneyes kept coming. They clambered over the corpse's of there fallen and Mossflower’s too, for Sayna saw some blue and silver clad bodies among them. Yet Tsarmina’s soldiers came, fleeing from the fires behind on the grasslands.
Dancer reared at the edge of the hill, and Sayna heard Indigo shout, “Rose!”
The hissing of shafts filled the air, and Sayna looked for the first time, at the Greeneye soldiers running up the bank. She was in time to see their front lines drop. 
A yell came from the trees, and a far louder hissing consumed Sayna’s reality for a few seconds. Like hundreds upon hundreds of furious wasps. 
Nearly all the soldiers on the bank fell, peppered with arrows. 
But they kept coming, as numerous as the stars of heaven’s realm. Tynek drew his sword in a flash of blue fire, and Sayna held out her own blessed weapon, yell nearly a roar. “Attack!”
Dancer’s hooves lowered to the ground, and when they hit, she launched herself down the hill. The sounds of thunder filled Sayna’s ears again, and she was fairly sure the world itself shook. She tightened her grip on the hilt of her sword as Dancer lowered her head, horn leading the way.
The smashing sound of crumpling metal joined the chaos, as Dancer impaled the first soldier she reached, tossing her head to the side as she flung the corpse into some of its fellows. Sayna lashed out with the queensword, unstoppable blade slicing through the helmets of at least three.
Dancer lunged to the side as someone swung a sword at her, and Sayna moved with her, switching her sword to her left paw and cleaving their assailent’s upper half in two. 
And for a time, that was all Sayna could do, just to focus on the next movement; the next time she shifted her sword to her other paw, the next creature she felled, armor melting and fur smoking. 
Because the soldiers crossing the river were endless. 
“Back!” Indigo’s shout reached Sayna’s ears. “Back to the ridge!”
Dancer wheeled around without question, and Sayna didn’t argue. She leaned over Dancer’s mane as they galloped uphill, and she looked frantically around, picking Tynek out of the crowd thanks to his gleaming golden hair. But where was Torrin?
Her heart almost stopped, and red clouded the corners of her vision as she tried to stay calm. He was fine. He was.
Indigo’s horse reared in front of Sayna as Indigo raised a dripping blade. “Hold!”
Dancer slid to a stop and Sayna looked around in confusion, until she heard the consuming hiss of shafts again.
Right. The feigning retreat tactic. 
Screams and thuds rang out, and Sayna turned around to see another wave of Greeneye soldiers writhed on the ground in agony or lay still, skewered with arrows. Sayna held in the bile wanting to rise in her throat, and yelled, “Torrin!”
“I’m here!”
Relief washed over her like cold water as she spotted him on Solain, near the back of their army. The red slunk from her vision. 
It was everywhere else, however. 
Blood flowed in the river, it coated Dancer’s horn and dripped down her forehead, and it soaked into the silt of the riverbed. The smell of it was everywhere, mixing with smoke, and death in general. Sayna caught a glimpse of Bella, standing near the bank of the river, just on the water. That was also the moment Sayna noticed the soldiers she had formed from the Moss fighting around her.
But for each Greeneye soldier who fell, ten more seemed to come. The otters and kelpies fought everywhere Sayna could see, dragging soldiers into the already body-logged river. 
Indigo rode past Sayna, calling, “Again! Attack!”
That was probably the last time they’d be able to trick the soldiers with arrows, but she might be wrong. 
Already, the silver-armored soldiers of the Greeneyes were trampling their fallen, rushing up the bank toward Sayna’s army. Indigo hit them head on, and Tynek rode close behind. Dancer tossed her head and charged again, and all the rest did too. 
Again, the world filled with two things above all else. To kill, and to hold Bloodwrath back.
How would she survive any future battles if she had to keep so much focus on keeping Bloodwrath at bay? But then, of course, there might not be any future battles. The light of the fires on the grassland grew brighter, suddenly. Sayna jerked her head toward it, and on a hunch, yelled to all her army nearest her, “Shield your eyes!” 
She didn’t know if they could. She managed to close them before the catastrophic and blinding flash of light.
Sayna snapped her eyes open, seeing Argulor soaring into the evening sky as hundreds of curses were shouted at once, from both sides. She slashed the head off a dazed soldier nearby, and as the Greeneyes’ reeled from the blinding light, she raised her sword. “To me! Now, drive them back!”
Some of her army joined her charge, Indigo and Torrin among them. Soldiers fell before them like wheat in harvest, blinded by the flash of Argulor’s fire and unable to fight back.
Sayna gasped in a breath as Dancer broke through the lines, and she saw in full the state of the river up close. It had turned red, especially here in the shallows, where corpses lay mostly or completely submerged. 
More wore the scale armor of otters than Sayna had first thought, and she held her desire to be sick at bay, plunging her sword down through a Greeneye soldier’s throat.
Honestly, she’d grown numb to this inevitability, over the years. And yet seeing creatures from her side contorted in death awoke a small tingle of sorrow in her heart. She didn’t have time for it, and she hadn’t even known them. 
But they were of Mossflower, and so was she.
The pain she felt at their deaths was the price of belonging, and Sayna found she would never trade it for her previous unfeeling emptiness. 
This was something worth fighting for. 
She yelled as she beheaded a soldier climbing from the river, as he attacked her. Not words, just a cry of anger, and sorrow. Anger that her comrades lay dead, and sorrow that any of this had come to be.
If only Verdauga had never come, on that night, so long ago.
Bella fought nearby, water soldiers all around her, her irises glowing pure blue, though the whites of her eyes had yet to turn. 
She’s saving strength.
Sayna couldn’t fault that, she thought, as she slashed her burning blade through another Greeneye soldier’s chest. Torrin rode past her, Solian lunging and grabbing a soldier in razor teeth, before shaking him so violently Sayna was certain she could hear his bones breaking. But then, it might just be his armor.
Torrin cut down three around them, somehow managing to keep his seat.
Sayna looked up as there was a shout, and Warthorn and his black kelpie loped along the bank, Warthorn yelling, “To me! Rally to me, court of otters!”
Blood painted Warthorn’s harpoon, his fur, and his armor too, though none of it looked to be his. “More come, form ranks!”
Sayna looked across the great river, filled with so many dead that parts had become nearly solid. 
For all the Kotirians who lay still or groaning on both riverbanks, and those who clogged the Moss, Sayna could see another swarm of dark forms gathering on the river’s far side. She looked around, finding the last soldiers on this side were fleeing back toward their comrades, or being cut down by Mossflowerians.
And yet… she stared at the new, fresh, approaching mass. How many more was that?
Bella drew back closer to their bank, letting her water army melt. She placed her paws on her knees, and breathed heavily, staring across to the new force of Greeneyes.
Otters and Kelpies rushed from the river in showers of flying, icy water, gathering on the shore as Spring and her white kelpie rode around them, Spring calling out orders. And Sayna’s heart sank into her stomach, because she saw so few. 
She stared at the corpse-choked river, then the otter army, cut down to at least half. And maybe there were even less. 
Sloshing began as row upon row of new Greeneye soldiers began crossing the river on the effective bridge of corpses. Crackling rang out, then a thud as the shadows shifted and a very glowing Argulor landed on the hill of the bank behind Sayna. She turned as he shook himself, saying, “Bad news lads and lassies. There’s a sight more of them coming, and I’ve got nothing left to burn them with.”
Sayna looked at Bella, where she’d knelt in the bloody mud of the riverbank, and looked to be just trying to catch her breath. 
She looked around, catching sight of Indigo, as the rabbit was riding toward her, Tynek close behind.
“My queen.” Indigo sounded a bit breathless. “We’ve lost at least seventy.”
Seventy. Sayna felt sick. Seventy out of three hundred.
Who knew how many the otters had lost? She bit her lip, asking, “Do we retreat?”
The frontlines of this new conigent of Greeneyes grew ever closer.
Warthorn was riding close to her now, and Sayna called, “Warthorn! Do we retreat?”
They should. They should run now. While they could, and they still had a force with which to fight, they should fall back to Brockhall…
“Let’s land a final volley. Hold, then feign a retreat and have the squirrels drop their front lines. We need to disable as many as possible.” Warthorn took a deep breath, methodically twirling his crimson stained harpoon as his kelpie paced the shore. “Then we retreat to Brockhall. Spring!”
He barked out his daughter’s name, and she called her reply. Warthorn’s voice was grim. “Send your scouts. We abandon the otter halls.”
Spring stared at the river, then nodded, and began calling her orders. Warthorn spat on the ground, saying darkly, “And so falls the Moss.”
He tapped a paw on his kelpie’s mane, and she trotted up the hill, a little past Sayna, as Warthorn called, “Ho! Birch!”
The squirrel’s head peered from around the black bark of a tree near the ridge. Warthorn raised his harpoon. “Do you understand your part?”
“Yes sire!” Birch called back.
“Excellent!” Warthorn said, as his kelpie turned toward the Moss, stamping her hooves and baring razor-white teeth.
Sayna looked to the ridge above them as Tynek called, “Rose?”
She appeared from behind a rock, red hair alight in the sinking sun. “I understand the plan, Tynek.”
Sayna saw Luna near her sister, and felt some relief. At least Rose was well-guarded. She turned back to the approaching soldiers, first rank not twenty yards off, and adjusted her grip on her sword, though she probably wouldn’t have to use it.
She felt Dancer’s breath shake her sides, as the creaking of bows being drawn filled the air.
Odd, how one bow barely whispered, but hundreds together made such a noise as this. Dancer stiffened, staring at the soldiers in the Moss, her ears swiveling intently forward. “Wait…”
Clanking filled the air as the front lines of Greeneye soldiers ducked down; the best that they could in the shallows. For the first time, Sayna saw the archers behind them.
For a second, her mind froze.
Then she heard Rose’s cry of dismay, and in unison, the sound of a million hornets from behind and in front of her.
Blinding blue light filled the surroundings, brighter than the sun could ever hope to shine. It filled her senses with a raw, bird-like screech, a desperate sound… what was Argulor doing? Not more fire! Argulor’s fire could be blue?
Chaos claimed all Sayna heard, with hissing shafts, metallic thuds, and screams of pain, and all she saw was burning white, tinged with a slight… multi-color effect.
Dancer wailed and staggered, and Sayna hoped it was just from her probably burning eyes. Sayna’s certainly felt as though aflame. She blinked hard, wondering just how many arrows were puncturing her body without her knowledge.
And Torrin. He wasn’t immortal. Tynek too.
Please…
She forced herself to breathe as her sight returned unnaturally fast, within ten seconds, and she desperately looked around.
Torrin sat doubled over on Solain’s back, face buried in his green mane as he groaned in misery. Though it seemed purely from the light. A whimper made Sayna look fearfully to Tynek, but he sat on a staggering Wildfire’s back, staring at nothing, his pupils having nearly vanished.
Argulor sat on the hill behind them, an arrow in his shoulder, and even he seemed dazed.
Sayna frowned. If it wasn’t him… she looked up the hill to Luna, beside Rose. The pegasus had a wing outstretched, and even at this distance Sayna could see her blazing eyes, shining a brighter blue than any Prophet Sayna had seen.
This had been Luna’s doing? What had she even done, besides effectively blind everyone?
Sayna took a shuddering breath and looked around, finding neither she or her comrades were so peppered with arrows as she had first thought. Some had been injured, some had fallen, but relatively few.
The Greeneye soldiers seemed just as blinded, some even writhing in agony, in the shallows. Sayna blinked again, as the spots in her vision cleared. Now was the time to retreat.
She turned to Warthorn, a little behind her, and froze. His black kelpie was there, eyes clenched shut and teeth gritted in pain, but where… Sayna felt her heart falter in her chest, she was sure of it. Because Warthorn was there, just on the ground, back half of an arrow protruding from the bridge of his nose. From what she could see, Sayna was sure it had gone clean through his skull.
She looked away, then to Indigo, and found the rabbit alive, even recovering.
“Indigo!” Sayna yelled, “We have to retreat, now!”
Indigo shook herself, long ears flopping from side to side, “Right. Right! Say, can you see?”
That was directed to her mount.
“A little…” The horse managed to say.
Indigo patted its neck. “Right, come on. Help me gather the armies.”
They rode off as best as the horse could stagger, and Sayna leaned down to Dancer. “Are you alright?”
“I…” Dancer gasped. “Will be. I think I can see again.”
“We have to retreat.” Sayna called, looking to the Greeneyes. They still appeared dazed enough. There was still time. “Torrin?”
Solain hobbled to Dancer’s side, shaking his head nearly constantly. Torrin rubbed his eyes… lucky for him, his gloves were just hardened leather. “Yes, I know. I know.”
He cupped a paw to his mouth, yelling, “If you can, make your way up the ridge!”
About half the army did. But Sayna stayed on the bank until they all did, all who drew breath, and the Greeneye soldiers began their own staggering pursuit. Then as the final mice staggered from the shore, Dancer turned and trotted for the slope, Torrin and Solain at her side.
Solain slid to a stop moments later, when he saw Warthorn, and his kelpie. Dancer halted as he did, and Sayna saw the black kelpie had not run, she just tried to drag a limp Warthorn up the hill, away from the approaching Greeneyes. Sayna stared back at the army. They’d mostly recovered now, and crashed onto the death-soaked shallows, and Sayna turned to the black kelpie. “We must go!”
Solain shot her a glare. “We will not leave him.”
Sayna groaned and readied herself to jump down, but Bella came running up, still shaking herself. Sayna saw her face change when she saw Warthorn, and saw the shock, the pain. But the lady didn’t break stride. She scooped Warthorn up like he weighed nothing and vaulted onto his kelpie’s back. Sayna heard her breathed words.
“Run, Folach. There’s time enough for grief later.”
And Warthorn’s kelpie did not argue. She galloped up the bank and Solain followed, Dancer close behind. Sayna pinned her ears at the hissing thuds of the arrows behind them, though all missed.
Dancer crested the ridge into the forest, and though the court of mice seemed to be speeding up, Sayna found little comfort in that.
Blood marked their path through the barren forest, so impossible to hide in now that it lay in winter’s grasp. It smeared on trees, and the dry leaves of the ground. How many were injured? Was this the blood of her creatures, or the blood of the Greeneyes they’d slain?
Not now. She told herself. Worry about it later.
Someday, the doors in her mind she stuffed her problems behind were going to break. Still, for now, she forced that thought in with all the others.
“Keep running!” Sayna called to any who could hear her. “Don’t look back, keep going! Make for Brockhall!
They were miles from Brockhall.
Another thought. She shoved it away. 
Just keep running.
The roar from behind her was that of boots and iron-shod hooves, not the river.
Just keep running.
Sayna took the deepest breath she could as Dancer wove through the trees. 
'I have always been good at running.
Sayna froze. The world didn’t, its chaos remained. But Sayna sat still as all things rushed around her as she jerked her head around to stare over her shoulder.
There the Greeneye soldiers were. So many that the gaps between trees had turned black as pitch, and their empty branches shook with the ground they grew from. And everything seemed very, very slow, though Sayna knew it couldn’t be. 
She looked back to her own army, fleeing from that wave of metal and death as best they could.
They would not be fast enough.
Most weren’t even mounted, and though the Greeneye army wasn’t either, they were fresh, not weary from battle. 
They cannot die. I will not again stand on the field of death and have done nothing to stop it.
And Sayna knew in that second, what she had to do.
She placed a paw on Dancer’s withers, and heaved herself from her loping friend’s back. She landed on her boots with a crunching wump, and stood among the fallen leaves, blazing sword in paw.
“Sayna!” Dancer’s scream reached her ears, and she looked to see her friend had slid to a stop.
“Go! Get to safety!” Sayna yelled, as she let her restraints on Bloodwrath begin to fall away. “Get away from me!”
Dancer’s eyes grew wide and they might have glistened with tears, and for a second she didn’t move. Then she nodded once, and turned away. In the same second, Torrin and Solain ran back. Torrin held out a paw as they galloped toward her, calling, “Sayna!”
“No!”
The very ground shook beneath her boots, now. A glance at the army proved she had mere minutes. “Torrin, go!”
He leapt off Solain's back. “What are you doing?”
“What I was born to!” Sayna gasped in a breath, as a pink formed in her eyes. She could see it again now, in her mind. Long ago, when Gruven thought he could stop her. “To fight! I am done running!”
Torrin lunged forward, wrapping the paw not holding his blood-drenched axe around her waist and pulling her close. “You’ll die!”
She stared up into those eyes like the depths of the sea, and felt the ache in her chest as burning, bloody tears dripped from her eyes. She reached up with a gauntleted paw, one she slid beneath his chin.
“We both knew this was the way it would end… didn’t we?”
The approaching force might as well be a storm front now, filled with roiling thunder. Their boots had become deafening.
Sayna knew her gaze was pleading, but searching too. “Will you be brave enough to let me do this? Can you let me be this thing that I am?”
Tears glistened behind his dark lashes, as he slowly nodded. When he spoke it was cracking. “I will let you be a Luke, my queen.”
For a single heartbeat, nothing moved. Then they both did in the same moment, muzzles pressing against each other as they kissed… really kissed. It made Bloodwrath recede ever so slightly, and Sayna wished she would never have to pull away, or stop.
But she did.
And Ignasa bless him, Torrin ran. He vaulted onto Solain’s back and they galloped like Hellgates themselves chased.
Sayna wheeled around to face the army, holding her sword out to the side as they loomed in her reddening vision, rapidly distorting to shadows in a crimson haze. The cracks formed over her sight, what she’d been dreading and fighting all day. No. For weeks. 
Reality dropped away, and she screamed. For fear. For hate. For the injustice of all this.
For herself.
For the one greater than all of it.
“I belong to Ignasa!”
She didn’t fall into Bloodwrath, begging for someone to save her as it dragged her into darkness.
She jumped.
==Chapter 58 The Voices Inside==
I know what I’m doing. I know what I’m doing…
Really, did she have a clue?
I’m buying them time.
Sayna expected the blackness, and the haunting red figure of Bloodwrath. She expected the curse to attack, to try and kill her like in their last meeting.
Instead, when she opened her eyes, she found the green world in which she had met Ignasa. 
Sayna started, finding she floated inches from crystalline grass, bootips brushing it. She looked around at the almost gem-like plants and sparkling white briars, all colors far deeper and more beautiful than their real versions. As she did, Sayna felt her boots come to rest in the tinkling, glassy grass. 
She could hear the sigh of the wind in the jewel-tone leaves, so different from the winter of the real world. 
And it was peaceful. A quiet, where no sword clashed, and no creatures cried out in pain. 
Sayna yawned without meaning to, feeling… inexplicably drowsy. How nice would it be, to lay in the summer’s grass like she once did, as a kit? While her father and the villagers of Evenglade planted the fields, she’d lain on the nearby grassy hillside and watched the clouds roll by.
She’d been so young then… two or three?
She moved to sit, and then froze. Wait. This space didn’t just belong to her. 
Where was Bloodwrath?
Sayna swallowed, and looked around, alertness fighting to return. She clenched a gauntleted fist. “Where are you?”
She pinned her ears, bracing her legs and switching her tail back and forth. “I know you’re here. Stop hiding. I’m here to face you.”
She took a deep breath. “I’m here to stop you.”
For a moment, nothing changed. Just the sighing, gentle wind, and what might be the flowing water of a brook.
Then it shifted, a shift Sayna felt so acutely she thought she might be sick. Like the jolt of being kicked from behind. The light of this place dimmed, and darkness began pooling on the ground mere feet from her, like living, vining smoke.
Sayna took a step back, swallowing hard.
Well, she’d challenged the curse, hadn’t she? This was inevitable, a fate she could not escape. And if Aileen’s words held any truth, she’d have to bind Bloodwrath, or be killed by her… it.
Thinking of Bloodwrath as it somehow felt wrong.
And it felt more wrong as she formed from the clinging darkness, glowing red body swiftly changing to wear Sayna’s current outfit, her armor. Sayna watched, stunned, as Bloodwrath’s short hair grew, braiding itself as it spiraled around her in showers of glowing crimson. 
She cocked her head to the side as the red, blood-like hair piled around and behind her ears, and a crown appeared nestled within it. And her eyes formed pupils of slightly darker red, which fixed on Sayna and made her retreat a few steps. Before, Bloodwrath’s eyes had always been glassy scarlet pools.
No smile twisted the curse’s face, not even the ghost of one.
When she spoke, the surreal distortion in her voice was minimal, and she spoke instead in a near replica of Sayna’s. 
“You will stop us? How are we to stop ourselves?”
Sayna pinned her ears, baring her teeth. “Enough of your games. You are not me. I am not you. You are a fragment of vileness given life by the Dark wolf, and I serve him no longer.”
Bloodwrath bared her teeth just as Sayna had. “If I am not you, you are my enemy.”
Sayna braced herself, pinning her ears. “We have been foes since the day I gave my soul to another, to Ignasa.”
Bloodwrath actually hissed. She pinned her ears and hissed, before snarling, “You ruin my home. You turn on my master. You speak that name.”
Bloodwrath held out her paw, and in a swirl of black smoke and red blood, a replica of the queensword formed, crimson blade glistening. Bloodwrath curled her lip. “You have become a very problematic host.”
She dashed forward, swinging her scarlet blade. 
Sayna threw herself to one side, hitting the crystal grass and rolling as Bloodwrath’s sword smashed into the dirt. 
The grass around the strike withered, then crumbled. Sayna jerked her head up as Bloodwrath turned venomous eyes upon her, and pulled her weapon from the ground. Sayna scrambled black as Bloodwrath stalked toward her, growling, “You’re defective. You won’t heed me.”
“Because you’re lying!” Sayna leapt to her boots and over a low cut. 
Bloodwrath’s twisted smile returned then, and she barked a hateful laugh. “And for a time, you believed me.”
She stalked forward. “You were a good plaything.”
She grinned wider. “Remember how many we killed together?”
Sayna choked on her breath and stumbled, recalling Gruvan. How he’d always made her smile when they were kits, even if that had begun to fade in the end, and she’d felt so distant. 
“But now you’ve found the one, haven’t you? Such a… caring one, too.”
Bloodwrath’s mouth twisted into an impossibly wide smile, so wide Sayna could hear her jaw cracking. And Sayna backed away, weakly growling, “You can’t have him.”
And Bloodwrath chuckled, an ugly sound, a wet rattle in her throat. “I wonder. What’s happening to him now?”
“Don’t you dare!” Sayna yelled, bracing herself to avoid another blow, but Bloodwrath just stood there, that broken grin on her face. 
Sayna breathed heavily, forcing herself to calm down, a least slightly.
After a moment, she lifted her chin. “What are you going to do, kill me? Without me you don’t exist.”
Bloodwrath’s grin twisted into a hatful scowl, and she lunged for Sayna, sword leading the way. Sayna leapt to the side, but the blade nicked her elbow, and pain blossomed in her arm. She gasped and clasped her paw to it, expecting wet blood, but there was nothing. Just a sharp, burning sensation unlike any normal cut.
The curse twisted her head to the side so far her neck cracked. 
“I can hurt you.”
She moved so fast, Sayna didn’t even have time to blink. Bloodwrath slammed her version of the queensword through Sayna’s torso, right where Fragorl had, that fateful night.
Tears filled Sayna’s vision, and her knees shook. Bloodwrath tore the blade from her stomach, and Sayna pitched to the ground, a thin whine escaping the back of her throat. It hurt so much worse than when Fragorl had done it. 
“You will stay here.” Bloodwrath smiled again. Her smiles were worse than her rage. “I am finally in control.”
Sayna gasped from pain as Bloodwrath turned, sheathing her blade. The curse curled her lip. “I wonder how long your body can sustain me? I wonder how long your lover can really stay away.”
Stay away, Torrin. Sayna focused on each breath she had to take next. Inhale, and exhale. It was all she could do as it felt like fire burned away at her insides. There should be blood everywhere, but it didn’t pool over her limp paws or drain from her mouth. 
This… wasn’t what was supposed to happen.
She tried to stand, but couldn’t even uncurl. Surely someone twisting her ribs into knots could not bring more pain.
Tears dripped down her cheeks as she clenched her eyes shut and Bloodwrath sneered, “What will he think, when you don’t come back to him?”
Failure. Sayna’s mind mocked. She opened tear-filled eyes and watched as black cracks shot across the ground, and grass died wherever they touched.
You couldn’t even control the voices in your head.
Why? 
The grass around Sayna shrank, fading to brown, and then crumbling to dust. Leaves of trees shriveled and fell, flowers faded, and all that was good began to dematerialize to black as Bloodwrath looked at her doing and grinned.
Ignasa had said… Sayna froze. Ignasa. She’d forgotten about Ignasa. 
She looked desperately into the blackening sky, as the crystalline stars winked out. “Please…”
Sayna got one elbow beneath her, and shakingly tried to drag herself up. “I am but a weak mortal. Stupid, maybe. But you said we could stop her. Please help me stop her!”
She cried out at a jolt of pain through her ribs, then whimpered, “I’m sorry I forgot. Don’t leave me…”
Her arm gave out and she fell to the blackening ground. “Please don’t leave me, Ignasa.”
Bloodwrath spun around, ears pinned and eyes blazing. “Do not dare to utter that name here!”
Sayna coughed, her voice whispered defiance. “I will say whatever name I want.”
Bloodwrath reached for her sword, taking an aggressive step toward her, and Sayna could do nothing but lay in crippling pain, and glare at the curse tied to her soul. But Bloodwrath did not land a fatal blow, she didn’t even draw her sword. 
She froze instead, staring behind Sayna. And even if she could not turn her head, Sayna smiled, because she felt this shift too. Like sliding into a pool of gently warm water, and having every muscle unwind. 
The growing darkness fled, and Sayna relaxed as her pain receded with the new voice that spoke. “Why should she not speak the name of her father?”
Bloodwrath scrambled back, horror and hate in her eyes as she hissed again, more garbled now.
Paws slid beneath Sayna’s arms, ever so gently lifting her from the disintegrating grass and into a glowing embrace. “Why did you wait so long to call me?”
“I…” Sayna gasped, just getting her voice back. Still, she felt ashamed at her answer. “Got distracted.”
Ignasa sighed, one Sayna could feel. “So it often is.”
She leaned against him as Bloodwrath… flickered. She was Sayna, just red, then Sayna with short hair, then black smoke, then Sayna as a kit, then a writhing mass of black tentacles, and back to Sayna the way she was now.
She scurried backwards on all fours, joints bending the wrong direction with the horrible sound of cracking. Her voice again spoke as many at once as she snarled, “You… thief!”
“Your master knows me.” Ignasa spoke grimly. “And he trembles. Be silent, for you are nothing to him.”
He knelt beside Sayna as she gained enough strength to stand. For the first time, Sayna got a reasonable look at him, and saw he wore white armor, not his hooded cloak. “Well, my daughter?”
He held out a gauntleted paw. “You came here for a reason.”
Sayna laid her own metal clad paw in his, saying softly, “I do not know if I am strong enough.”
Ignasa smiled patiently. “Can I not give you that strength?”
Sayna took a deep breath, and nodded. 
His paw closed around hers as she looked to where Bloodwrath cowered, looking frantically about as though she planned to hide… as if she could. She kept flickering, almost un-stabilized. Sayna gritted her teeth and said, “You have no power here. This is Ignasa’s soul, and mine in turn, and you are not welcome to wreck your havoc.”
Bloodwrath stiffened, and flickered even more, as the snowy briars all throughout the landscape… moved. They shifted, and the ground rumbled as they all moved at once. 
Sayna had to clamp her paws over her ears as Bloodwrath screeched, flicking from form to form even faster. The white briars shot from the ground around her, wrapping around her legs and torso, and her façade of Sayna’s face fell away. 
Bloodwrath transformed into that hideous knot of barbed, writhing tentacles, and the terrible, disembodied screeches got even worse. 
Sayna choked on her breath, clutching a gauntlet to her chest and gaping in awe as the briars kept growing, twisting around the black mass that was Bloodwrath again and again. Sayna found thinking of her as an it was far, far easier now. 
The sparkling thorns formed a cage, and kept growing up and around Bloodwrath, keeping it there, though it’s inky barbed tendrils still lashed in fury. And they kept growing, until they twisted into a white tree of thorns, and leaves of the same hue sprouted on the bare snowy branches.
Bloodwrath’s horrible shrieking died down, and its tendrils coalesced again into the red being identical to Sayna. It grabbed the white thorns, only to jerk back with a distorted wail.
Sayna just stared, each breath rattling to her chest as she saw that for the first time since it had awoken, Bloodwrath was contained. 
Tears threatened to fill her eyes, and she looked up at Ignasa, as the sky of her soul lightened, like stormclouds fading to show the sun, even if Sayna had never found the light source of this place. 
“Thank you.”
It was all she could manage, as she closed her eyes and felt dampness on their lower lids.
“I did not do it alone.” Ignasa smiled down at her. “You had to want this.”
Sayna blinked hard, rubbing at her eyes. Metal gauntlets apparently didn’t hurt in this piece of the fifth realm. She smiled shakily. “I wanted it more than anything.”
She paused, and looked to Bloodwrath. “Wait… if she’s there… what is my body doing?”
Ignasa laid a paw on her shoulder. “You should go back.”
He smiled gently. “Until we meet again, my daughter. And you know. You can speak to me more outside of these dire circumstances.”
Sayna felt her cheeks flush. “Remind me?”
“Always.” Ignasa stood, and looked to where Bloodwrath kicked at its cage walls, to no avail.
Sayna did too, and saw the grass beginning to lift from the ground, it’s color returning. She closed her eyes and breathed air that once again held the scents of spring.
And Sayna felt, for a few moments, that all was fine. 
She smiled up at Ignasa, as the surroundings blurred, and dimmed. Maybe now at long last, her soul might know peace again. 
Everything faded to black, for a short time. And for a few moments Sayna floated there, enjoying the last moments of silence before she would return to the battle, until she would return to see whether or not she had succeeded or failed.
“I am here.”
Sayna let out a long sigh, because that was true.
And she found as the world began forming around her again, the real world of red vision and the stench of death; fear did not consume her.
Pain did, on the other paw.
It started slow, like a dull prickle of discomfort from a mildly out of place rib. Then it grew to a stabbing like a pinched nerve, and in seconds, each breath felt like she was being dragged across broken glass.
The rest hit her all at once.
Her eyes burned worse than they ever had before, like someone had held open the lids and poured salt over them. She screamed, a gargling, broken sound, more a sobbing wail than anything else.
Where had she been critically injured this time? 
And who would help her now? They’d all ran, just like she’d told them to. Where were the Greeneye soldiers? She still couldn’t see. Why was the air so still, the world so quiet?
Sayna felt her legs buckle, and she fell to her knees. How had she even been standing?
She groaned as tears of what was undoubtedly blood poured down her cheeks, and some of her sight began to return… not enough to discern much but the blurry shapes of trees, however. She coughed, and liquid poured from her mouth at the action.
That couldn’t be good.
Hooves broke the silence, off in the distance. Maybe Dancer had gotten help? Then again, it could be more Greeneyes. 
Sayna coughed again, slumping to her hindquarters. It felt like a knife blade was being torn up and down her ribs. Whatever had happened was much worse than Amber’s arrow. Then again, Sayna realized, she’d been moving, and a lot. So the damage was bound to be worse. The red faded slowly from her sight, though not from the world. The tree trunks were painted in blood.
“Sayna!”
Torrin’s voice. Hadn’t he ran? Hadn’t he said he would?
She sluggishly turned her head, staring dully as slender green legs stiffened from their run, silver hooves throwing up bloody leaves as Solain slid to a stop. Torrin threw himself from his mount’s back, stumbling over a fallen Greeneyes and nearly hitting the ground, but regaining himself as he scrambled through the forest debris to her side. 
Sayna coughed. “Torrin, you…”
But just like with Amber’s arrow, her voice bubbled. That… was bad.
When he spoke, he sounded distraught. “How do I help you?”
He hadn’t grabbed her yet, really, more than anything he looked like he wanted to hold her, but that he was afraid to. And it would be nice to be held. She felt so… dull. So cold.
She blinked hard, and slumped forward without meaning to. He did catch her then, and turn to look at Solain. “Go! Get help, hurry!”
Solain stamped his hooves for a moment, dancing in place like he was loath to the idea. 
“Go!” Torrin yelled, firmer this time. 
Solain snorted, then wheeled around and streaked away as only a kelpie could. Sayna coughed, more blood dripping from her mouth as Torrin rolled her onto her back and she whimpered from the sudden pain that brought.
“There’s a spear…” Torrin paused, looking down at her torso, before saying, “Through what might be your lung, Sayna. What do I do, do I take it out? Is it like when Amber shot you?”
He sounded like he desperately hoped it was.
Sayna groaned. As if she knew, but seven realms, it hurt… and that would explain her difficulty breathing. “Just… get it out..”
Her head fell back against his arm and she winced, wishing the Borealis would be nice and just let her fall unconscious. But she had never been so lucky. There was the swish of metal as Torrin drew a dagger, and some painful jostling as he hacked away at the spearhead apparently protruding from her back.
A yanking, burning tug in her torso made all the air in her lungs rush out in a wail. 
Moments later, arms wrapped around her, and she fought to breathe as Torrin held her, pressing his nose to her forehead. Each breath was like being stabbed in the ribs all over again. Sayna whimpered through gritted teeth, because she was so… cold. Above all things, she was cold, and miserable.
Not too many seconds passed before her breathing started to ease, thankfully. She lay still though, glad she wasn’t living this agony alone in a heap on the forest floor. At least someone who truly cared held her.
No more blood drained from her mouth, and the pain started subsiding, though the cold… not so much. Her breaths grew stronger, and she opened her eyes, to find her vision was only pink. Curly brown hair filled it, for the most part. 
Sayna reached up, weakly laying a gauntlet on Torrin’s cheek as she shivered and said. “I’m fine.”
He jerked his head up, and stared at her, fur under his eyes a little matted. “Wh… what?”
“Well… maybe not fine.” Sayna admitted, voice still rough, the taste of blood still prominent in her mouth. “But I won’t die.”
He just wordlessly shook his head, and then kissed her. That was… nice. Very nice. Probably… too nice. She slid her paw up over his neck and kissed back as the worst of her pain faded, leaving no more than a twinge in her torso. That was when she started to notice her right arm itched.
As she drew away from Torrin a bit, she saw the arrow skewering it, right above the elbow.
Sayna blinked. “Oh, that’s… delightful.”
She weakly sat up, stomach complaining, though not as much as it really should have, for having been impaled moments before. Sayna felt around her soggy belt for a dagger, but Torrin laid a paw on her shoulder. “I’ll deal with it.”
He sliced the head off the arrow, and Sayna grabbed it, taking a deep breath before yanking the shaft free with a squelch. She winced at the sudden pain, and the fact she felt even colder for having done that. Shivers wracked her body, and she collapsed against Torrin again. Was it even possible to be this tired, and still be awake?
To keep her mind focused, Sayna finally took a quick look around, and felt slightly sick. 
Corpses. This area was full of them. They lay piled on each other, slumped against trees… her right boot pressed against one’s side. And the forest was painted crimson, slick, dark blood tinting everything. From what she could see of her legs, they were soaked in it. 
“What… happened?”
“They fled.” Torrin said, gently. “I watched… I’ve never seen anything like it. You drove off their entire army. You were in Bloodwrath for near an hour, you slew anything that moved. Finally they ran, when they’d impaled you and it didn’t even slow you down.”
Sayna blinked up at him. “But… didn’t you run with the others?”
He wrapped an arm around her. “I’m willing to let you fight alone, Sayna.”
His eyes flashed a little. “But I am not willing to abandon you. I knew you’d need help when you finally came back; Solain and I waited on the next hill.”
Sayna stared up at him, then whispered, “Thank you.”
“Of course. Can you walk at all?” He asked.
Sayna tried to sit up, then fell back again. “Ah… probably not far…”
She was weak, and hungry. “Do you have any meat?”
He shook his head. “I’m sorry, not with me. We need to get back to Brockhall. The Greeneyes stopped their assault, we can regroup there. And I’m sure our army has noticed our absence. Dancer’s probably getting help… Solain might meet her along the way.”
Torrin stood, pulling her with him with considerable effort. 
This wasn’t going to be like in the stories, Sayna thought absently. Where the knight carried the maiden away in his arms. Because she was wearing full armor and she doubted Torrin could lift her even an inch from the ground. Or at least not for more than a minute.
She struggled to get shaking legs beneath her, fought to stay upright so she wouldn’t be more of a bother than she’d been already.
Torrin kept an arm around her anyway, steadying her. 
The forest around her truly was strewn with the dead. She grabbed Torrin’s quilted hauberk as her legs threatened to buckle and she shivered. “I killed… all of them?”
This truly was the most terrible she’d ever been.
“I think a few trampled each other to escape you.” Torrin said, weakly trying to lighten the mood. Or maybe that’s what he was doing, anyway.
Sayna nodded, feeling lightheaded. 
“Never again.”
Tears clouded her eyes as she looked away. “I will never use it again.”
Torrin pressed his muzzle against her forehead, asking, “Did it work?”
Sayna nodded, wearily leaning against him as she noticed the singed gouge-marks in trees, slashed across their trunks at the height she held her sword. Finally she murmured, “It wears the chains now, not me.”
Torrin hugged her close, saying, “Then you have done the thing lost to the Lukes for centuries.”
And that was true. She took a deep breath, smelling the blood, the death… even the fear she had caused. Magic would remember this.
Finally she said, “My sword?”
He paused, then looked around. Sayna tried too as well, but the lightheadedness was fast approaching. She spotted it, after a moment, stuck through the chestplate of a soldier. Sayna wearily pointed, saying, “There.”
Torrin helped her walk the short distance, then bent down and yanked the sword free. Blue fire sprang down the blade, burning the blood away.
“You can summon the fire too.” Sayna said, softly.
“It knows you like me.” He said, entirely deadpan, before smirking and sliding it into the blood splattered sheath at her side. 
Sayna did manage a tiny laugh then, because of how absurd a hypothesis that was. Torrin glanced behind them, to the west, where the Moss was. “Come on. I don’t want to be here after dark.”
For the first time, Sayna noticed the dimming light. The sun had set far more than she had last remembered. 
Torrin helped her limp through the forest of death, but she couldn’t go fast and the dark of winter’s night closed in around them. And the cold did too. That was the worst of it. She kept her paws moving, and kept her eyes open, and though they hadn’t gone far, each step seemed to take forever. 
Not many minutes passed, before Torrin looked toward the forested hills to the east, ears pricking up. It took a moment, but Sayna heard the hooves too. Torrin stopped walking, letting out a sigh. Sayna looked up at him, noting how tired he looked. 
She was tired too. 
So tired she wondered what was keeping her upright. Well… Torrin was, but pretty soon she was going to fully collapse. 
Dancer crested a hill, weaving through trees, Solian by her side. As they got closer, Sayna saw Germaine was on Dancer’s back, and Tynek rode Wildfire behind them. A second look proved Indigo was there too.
Sayna prepared herself for the worst lecture of her life.
Dancer slid to a stop, and Germaine vaulted from her back. She still wore her white apron over her green dress, Sayna noted, though now it was smeared with red and brown. She pushed her crystal glasses up her nose, looking at Sayna’s torso. “Oh dear.”
Sayna looked down and for the first time, saw the damage to her armor. The spear had gone through a weak point between plates, but still, it would need a serious repair. “My armor!”
“Your innards, more importantly.” Said Germaine, raising one eyebrow quite high.
“They’re fine.” Sayna sighed. She couldn’t even feel pain anymore. Then again she was pretty numb at this point. “But I’ll need my armor for the next attack.”
Torrin glanced toward the river, muttering, “If there is one.”
Sayna shook her head. She had the feeling there would be.
Tynek dismounted, and without a word, he walked to Sayna and hugged her. Sayna blinked, then hugged back with a clinking. Tynek didn’t move for a moment, before he said, “Rose is upset.”
Sayna sighed. She could only imagine. 
“How did you ever get her to stay behind?”
Germaine answered. “Our many wounded. Now, Torrin, I want you to ride with her so she doesn’t pass out on the way and fall. Tynek, Indigo, bring up the rear and watch for soldiers. Dancer, my dear, if I could possibly enlist your assistance as my mount again?”
Dancer nodded, but looked worriedly at Sayna. “You’re really… ok?”
She looked behind Sayna, out toward the blood splattered woods. Sayna sighed. “I’m fine.”
In the moment of silence that followed, Indigo let out a low whistle. “Now that’s a level of Bloodwrath I’ve never seen.”
Sayna looked up at the rabbit. “I know what you’re going to say, that I should have gotten help, but..”
“No my queen.” Indigo shook her head. “While I might not approve of your methods, this act was one you had to do alone.”
Sayna just blinked as Torrin helped her onto Solain’s back, then vaulted on behind her. She leaned against his chest as Solian began the trek away from the forest of death she had made, and with the sound of hooffalls, the others did too.
The sun had all but set, and the air was growing ever colder. Then again, that might just be her. She snuggled closer against Torrin and while there wasn’t much warmth for it… he was wearing armor, after all, she felt an unreasonable amount of comfort from having him there. They didn’t talk on the trip back. Really, she couldn’t. But the silence was kind, and she was very tired, and very cold.
Sayna closed her eyes, not entirely sure how she’d gotten to this point, to binding Bloodwrath. Or for that matter, how had she come to follow Ignasa, or accept her crown, or snuggle with anyone? 
The world was so cold, though.
She didn’t have the energy to think about it.
><><
Whegg felt stretched too thin, like a longbow with too short a string. He ran here and there, helping carry the wounded into Brockhall, shouting orders to those still standing, and fearing every second the attack to come from the Greeneyes.
Finally, hooves did sound from the west, and a group did trot from the surrounding forests, but it was not the army Whegg had been expecting.
Instead it was Germaine, with Tynek and Indigo. The equines skidded to a halt outside the kitchen doors, and Germaine swung down, ordering, “Torrin, take her to her room. Indigo, help him. Tynek, I’m sure Rose needs to see you.”
Whegg blinked, standing near the door and pushing it open as both Torrin and Indigo carried the queen inside. She didn’t look well, and was coated in blood.
They got her inside and Whegg looked to Germaine. “What happened?”
“Bloodwrath, I expect.” Said the mouse, but even her voice was clipped, and strained.
“Are the Greeneyes coming?” Whegg asked, shooting a glance to the west.
Germaine shivered, and shook her head. “Not many still draw breath, so there is respite for now. Come. Get everyone inside and shut the door.”
From the tone of her voice, Whegg guessed he wasn’t supposed to ask questions. So he nodded and called her orders to the equines and guards outside as she hurried deeper into the hall, probably to the ballroom, where he’d been carrying the injured. It made as good a makeshift infirmary as any.
When the last Mossflowerian was in, Whegg shut the door on a crowded kitchen.
Gone was the peace, the silence filled with dripping water. Every room had been filled, mostly with the families of otters who had been forced from their homes on the Moss.
“Bar the doors!” Whegg ordered the soldiers he could see, mostly from the court of mice. But without their king, queen, or corporal, they wandered aimless and afraid. And Whegg didn’t see Indigo’s second, the rabbit named Tine, anywhere.
“Post scouts and raise the alarm the moment the Greeneyes are spotted.”
Because they were coming. Whegg knew they were coming.
He hurried from the kitchen, slipping around and under the arms of the larger otters crowded into Brockhall, hearing the cries of kits and the tumult of whispered voices. Was this the end for them all?
Whegg stumbled around a few otters and one growled at him, and he lifted a paw. “Sorry. Sorry.”
He kept going however. Everyone was on edge and there was no time for arguments. He needed to find someone in charge, and fast. Where was Warthorn, or Bella? He hadn’t seen either of them since the battle at the Moss. 
Tynek was his best option, since he hadn’t seen Birch either. 
Whegg slipped through one set of double doors into the ballroom, which now held the groans of the injured in place of cheer or calming silence. 
He saw Lady Rose’s red hair as she worked to bandage an otter’s arm, and Tynek standing nearby. Whegg hurried to them, bowing. “Milady, King Tynek. Not to interrupt, but Tsarmina’s armies could come at any time, and we must have a meeting of leaders before then. Is there any way you can arrange that?”
Tynek just stared for a moment, then looked around like he hoped someone would help him. But Rose was too busy. 
The mouse king sighed, finally saying, “I do not… know how many leaders are left.”
Whegg felt his stomach turn inside as Tynek said, “Warthorn is dead. My sister is wounded. I have not seen Birch. Where is Sandingomm?”
Whegg took a deep breath. Warthorn… was dead. The first leader Whegg had met, and the first to give him a chance among the Mossflowerians… even if slightly on accident. He shook himself. No. There was no time, not now.
“I ain’t sure anymore. I think she was in the infirmary with Gingivere.”
Tynek scratched an ear. “Well… we need to find Bella. She knows what to do.”
Rose looked up from her patient as she tied a bandage in place. “She’s praying, I heard Germaine say. In her rooms.”
Tynek frowned. “I do not know where those are.”
“Well I don’t either, Ty, I’m sorry.” Rose stood, gathering her satchel, before asking, “Could it be near her office?”
Tynek shrugged, and Rose quickly kissed his cheek. “I’d go look. Now I need to keep working.”
She hurried to the next waiting patient, who looked up gratefully as she arrived and knelt by their side. 
Whegg looked to Tynek, and he simply nodded, heading for the doors. Whegg hurried after him. He didn’t know the mouse king well, but if someone was willing to take charge, Whegg was willing to follow them. 
“Sire, if my initial assessment is correct, we have thirteen hundred left in all. And that’s not takin’ out the wounded.”
Tynek didn’t turn to look at him as he strode down the corridor, and the otters and mice scattered along it gave way to him without question. After a moment he just said, “My sister should be here.”
He paused, and looked up at Whegg, blood dripping down his face from a shallow cut on his forehead. “She should be helping you. Not me. I am not the one you need.”
Whegg blinked, and then somehow found he felt immense pity for the mouse king. He looked like a cadet in his first battle, even though Whegg didn’t doubt he’d seen many. He grimaced, saying, “You’re the one we have, sire.”
Tynek looked away, then kept walking. Whegg followed in silence, because he’d never been good at comforting creatures. Not even Gina, though she somehow found him comforting anyway. She was undoubtedly in the infirmary now, struggling to save the wounded… and he should go see her the moment he had a chance. 
“The last time I led, everyone died.”
Whegg looked up, to see Tynek had stopped by a door and laid his paw on it. He met Whegg’s gaze. “This time, I told myself I would not do it alone. I told myself I would let Sayna help… that I would let her do this, and I would follow.”
He looked away. “I cannot do much… I am sorry. I hope Bella can help us.”
He knocked on the door, but there wasn’t an immediate answer. 
“Ya is their king.” Whegg crossed his arms. “As sure as I was captain of a guard. An’ yer sister needs ya too. I’m sure ya have ideas. Ya have ta have ideas… I have ideas.”
Tynek itched at his right arm… a lot like Gina, Whegg absently realized. 
The mouse king sighed. “Outside of attacking in the dark… with the dragons… I do not.”
“But that’s somethin’.” Whegg said. “And really, it ain’t so bad an idea.”
He knocked on the door to Bella’s office again, then hesitantly pushed on it, blinking as it swung open. Inside was empty, and silent as a tomb… even dark. Whegg sighed. “Of course she ain’t here.”
“Tynek!”
Whegg turned, and relaxed as he saw Torrin and Indigo running down the hall from the direction of the ballroom. He knew both about as well as he knew Tynek, but they were probably more prone to taking charge. Torrin was the one who’d called out, and he was also the one who reached them first.
Tynek seemed quite relieved to see them. “We cannot find Bella.”
Torrin grimaced. “She’s going to be mourning Warthorn.”
“That’s well and good.” Indigo said sharply. “But we are in a war and we haven’t the time at the moment. Where is she?”
There were shrugs all around, and Whegg certainly had no idea. Torrin started off, down the corridor. “This way.”
Whegg just followed, because it was better than standing around. He caught up to the only slightly shorter halfblood, asking, “How do ya know?”
“It’s just a hunch.” Torrin said. He stopped outside a set of double doors, and gently pushed them open a small amount. 
This room bore four intersecting canals and a silver chandelier on the tall ceiling, and sure enough, Bella sat under it on the water. Her face was in her paws and her silver-white hair spilled over them as her shoulders silently trembled.
Indigo started forward, but Torrin held up a paw. “I’ll go talk to her, Indigo. Why don’t you… er… not.”
Indigo huffed, but understanding shone in her eyes at the same time, and she nodded. “I’ll wait here.”
On a sudden whim, Whegg said, “I’ll come with ya.”
It surprised him, but Bella had been kind to him, even back when she hadn’t wanted to be. To his honest shock, Tynek stepped up to Torrin’s side. “So will I.”
Indigo sighed and leaned against the wall. “Well don’t take your time… who knows when the next wave will hit.”
Whegg understood her concern, and at the same time felt this might not be something able to be rushed. Bella looked up as they approached, then looked away again. Her hair fell over her face, and her voice shook when she spoke. “Are we under attack?”
“Not at the moment, milady.” Whegg said, as he bowed.
Torrin spoke up soon after Whegg fell silent. “But the armies are disheartened, and it will not be long. Bella, we need your leadership.”
Bella took a deep breath, then lifted her head, and looked at Tynek. “My leadership has gotten us here.”
Tynek shrank back a little as she bowed her head. “I pray you and your sister can save us.”
“I… Sayna is…” Tynek began, before looking to Torrin. 
Torrin sighed. “Sayna is resting. She was… injured, but you know Sayna and injuries now. Germaine says she just needs time.”
Bella placed her head in her paws. “The one thing we have none of.”
Whegg cleared his throat. “Milady. The king mentioned that we might ride out under cover a darkness with the dragons… sort of an ambush scenario. I agree. We need to take out as many as possible.”
Bella nodded wearily, and looked to Tynek. “Do you have the armies for it?”
For a moment, Whegg wondered if he would back down. But he took a deep breath and lifted his chin. “I have two hundred and thirty I can lead.”
With a great, heaving sigh, Bella stood, her tunic rustling as she did. It was odd, Whegg thought, to see Bella wear pants. But in a battle scenario it was the most logical. Her eyes shone with tears even still, and yet her voice had grown firm. “Find Spring, sire. See if she will rally the otters with you, and enlist Birch’s help. Though if I know anything of the squirrels, they’ve already begun aiding the dragons in their work.”
Whegg blinked up at her. “And ya, milady?”
She lifted her chin. “I will bolster the house’s defenses, and give it extra… strength, if I can. Go. And Ignasa go with you.”
Torrin was nodding and though Tynek still looked uncertain, he did not protest and walked for the door. Whegg followed them, glancing behind at Bella as she turned away from the door, paws falling to her sides as she stepped onto the water directly beneath the silver, teardrop chandelier. 
Silently, Whegg closed the doors. Indigo pushed off the wall, arms still crossed. “Well? What did she say.”
Tynek’s voice sounded tense. “Well. We have a plan.”
They had a plan. Of sorts. Whegg ran his claws along the wood of his spear, slung over his back. He should clean that, when he got a chance.
It took a few moments to get everyone together. Torrin and Tynek left to find Spring and maybe Birch, while Whegg went to collect Sandingomm. He slipped into the infirmary, relaxing a bit the moment he saw Gina drawing water from the central pool. Yes, he’d seen her earlier and already knew she was in Brockhall… but still. It was a relief to be reminded.
Her eyes lit up when she saw him, and she set her bucket on the ground beside the pool before running to him and hugging him, bloody armor and all. Though really, most of that had probably dried at this point.
Whegg kissed the top of her head as he hugged her back, and she said shakily, “Are they here?”
“No.” Whegg held her tightly for a moment. “And we might have a plan ta keep ‘em away. Where’s Sandingomm, honey?”
She just held him, for a few more seconds. Then she lifted her head and took a shivering breath. “In the back. Come on.”
Gina pulled away and led him deeper into the infirmary, and Whegg found he admired her for how well she was coping with all of this. Her eyes told him she wanted to curl up in a corner somewhere and sob, and yet she still walked with purpose. 
But really, was he any better? And could any of them be?
Gingivere’s plan had failed, and the odds were so solidly against them…. No. No he wasn’t going to think about odds. 
Gina pulled the curtain of a room back, where Sandingomm sat beside Gingivere’s bed, watching over him. He lifted his head slightly, and Whegg walked in, and he groaned. Whegg glanced down at himself, splattered in blood, even as Gingivere asked, “She attacked?”
“Er… yes sir. She did.” Said Whegg, noting the matted fur around Gingivere’s mouth and recalled what Germaine had said about him having to ride the poison out… and how it involved throwing up.
The cat’s pale eyes were shadowed and sunken too, and he closed them with a tiny whine, in the back of his throat. 
“I failed.”
“No, no, shush.” Sandingomm stroked his hair. “Ya did great.”
He opened one eye, giving her a dull look. “Really… you really believe that?”
“Er… wull, it could’a been worse.” Sandingomm said. She slipped her paws around his limp one. “Ya didn’t die.”
“Not… dying…” Gingivere groaned, “Was not the main goal!”
“Ehhh wull uh…” Sandingomm bent down and kissed his forehead. “It’s a good goal ta have. An’ ‘sides… yer gonna be a father somehow. So like… ya didn’t fail too awful bad.”
Gingivere just closed his eyes again, and looked very unwell.
Whegg sighed, and bowed. “Milady, we are not yet under attack from Tsarmina, though we have lost the river. The other leaders are rallying their armies in hopes of a night ambush, what would ya have me do?”
Sandingomm glanced down at her paw in Gingivere’s hair, and sighed. “Whegg I dunno. I don’t even got an army, less ya plan ta have me round up a bunch’a farmers an’ their pitchforks.”
Whegg swallowed, and didn’t really have an argument for that. The court of vermin needed an army, but where were they to find one when so many of the species served Tsarmina. Unless…
He paused, staring intently at Sandingomm. She frowned, after a moment. “What?”
“Milady, could ya…”
But no, that was crazy… madness, pure stupidity. 
“Could I what?” Sandingomm asked again.
Whegg slowly met her gaze, because madness was all they had left. “Ya persuaded those towns right well, milady.”
Sandingomm blinked. “Whegg I… had Gingivere ta do that. That wasn’t me, that was him.”
“With all respect milady, I disagree.” Whegg pointed out. “Gingivere weren’t the one who convinced a entire village ta ransack their own town.”
Gingivere coughed, turning his head and weakly squeezing Sandingomm’s paw. “Listen… you are the ruler… not me. You are the queen… of the vermin in Mossflower. If they turn to us, they must learn to respect you… so try.”
Sandingomm stared down at him. “Ya think I kin do that?”
He closed his eyes again, sounding weaker now. “You can’t do… worse than me… please let me sleep.”
Sandingomm squeezed his paw, before gently laying it on the bed beside him. “Sleep then, Gingi. I’ll see ya soon.”
He murmured, but Whegg was fairly sure he was already incoherent. Sandingomm stood, leather and chain skirt falling around her legs with a clinking. She met Whegg’s gaze, and nodded. “Show me where ta go, capt’n.”
“This way.” Whegg said, and turned. Gina stood at the door still, and she bit her lip as Whegg passed.
He paused, then turned back and caught her in a hug. “If I don’t come back, I love ya. I love ya so much.”
She wrapped her arms around his neck, whispering, “I know Wheggy I… I love ya too.”
After a moment she grabbed his face and kissed him, and just a little of his stress melted away as he returned her affections, and wished that it could last longer. But inevitably, he had to pull away, and so did she. 
And though he could see the tears in her eyes and he wished he could wipe them away and hold her forever, he smiled the best smile he could, and walked past Sandingomm toward the door. Whegg couldn’t make himself look back, because if he did he would run back. And this time he couldn’t, he had to push on, for Gina, for everyone.
Sandingomm followed, and once they were in the hall, Whegg let out a shaking sigh. 
Sandingomm’s soft pawsteps followed him, and she laid a paw on his shoulder. “Whegg… ya know I kin read yer future, right?”
As they neared the ballroom, there were more creatures crowded in the rooms and corridors they walked through. Whegg paused for just a second. Wouldn’t that be nice, to know? What if she told him he would be a father, that he and Gina would have the family she’d always wanted and that somehow, his life would all be ok?
But what if she saw his death? Or worse, Gina’s death and his continued existence?
“Not… right now.” He managed to say. 
He took a deep breath. “I’d rather not know and give this me all. Cause if I knew I died… or worse… I’d never be able ta focus.”
Whegg glanced up at Sandingomm. “Sorry, milady.”
But Sandingomm didn’t look offended. She simply smiled sadly down at him. “How I wish I could be like ya, Whegg. Sometimes it’s a relief ta not know.”
All Whegg could do was nod, and struggle to swallow the lump in his throat. 
Because a part of him wanted to know so badly it hurt. But no. No, if he was to meet his end, let him fight until that moment and not see it coming. Just as he always had.
Whegg pushed open the doors to the ballroom, and he saw Torrin and Tynek right away, thanks to Tynek’s golden hair. Even stained with blood, it made him unmistakable. Spring and Birch stood near the two, so at least they’d been successful in gathering what leaders were still standing.
Torrin looked up as Whegg and Sandingomm approached, and the others followed suit.
“There you are, sir, milady.” Birch said. “We were considering a sort of pincer ambush. The squirrels from above, the otters from one side, and the mice from another. Then the dragons slip around and close in on them from behind.”
Whegg glanced up at Sandingomm, then said, “That sounds great fer a war strategy…”
Sandingomm took a deep breath, and said, “Look I know this sounds like a stupid idea fer kits or fae-stories… but we thought that maybe… we could just talk ta them.”
Spring snorted. “Talk to them? About what? Are we to invite them to have tea at Brockhall… come on! This is a war!”
“I… know.” Sandingomm looked down. “It’s probably a huge mistake…”
Spring muttered what Whegg was pretty sure was “That’s an understatement.”
Torrin held up a paw. “What is your goal, with this plan?”
Whegg opened his mouth, but Sandingomm responded before he could. “I have no army. Yer armies have been hit hard, from all I’ve heard. We could use the extra paws.”
“They just killed my father!” Spring blurted.
Torrin shook his head. “And Sayna killed thousands of them. Sandingomm might have a point. They may be disheartened enough to listen.”
Spring looked disgruntled, but nowhere near as argumentative as Whegg had been expecting. Maybe he was just used to Amber. Tynek looked up, saying softly, “We need the soldiers.”
“Desperately.” Birch added.
Torrin looked to Sandingomm. “We could let you try, and if they refuse, we attack like we planned?”
Whegg looked to Sandingomm, and when he saw she was nodding, he nodded as well. 
Spring grunted, but contended no more. “Then let us do this.”
She stalked from the ballroom, heading down the crowded hall to the kitchen. 
Time passed far too quickly as armies were gathered in the lawns outside, weapons checked, and horses mounted. Whegg sat on a horse’s back in the dark, slightly overcast night, unable to see all the stars. 
Where were the Greeneyes? Argulor had said there were twenty dragons in all, how could they possibly hold off the armies Tsarmina still had? 
Yes, they were dragons, but still!
Spring’s white kelpie pranced through the darkness like a ghost in the night, the otter moving flawlessly with its every stride. Whegg hoped Spring would let them do this, that she wouldn’t attack without the other’s consent. 
But no… she had been the one to suggest he be taken to Bella in the first place, hadn’t she? 
Whegg knew he was just being paranoid, but how could he not be?
“Ignasa.” He muttered under his breath. “Watch over us.”
Crunches rang out as Torrin rode his pale green kelpie to Whegg’s side. “So. Will they really listen? Do you think there’s really a chance?”
Whegg took a deep breath and refrained from saying that there had better be, because there was no other chance. “You say they’ve been hit hard today, right? I know a few who might turn… though I don’t got a clue where those are. I donno where anyone is.”
Torrin leaned forward. “But you probably know the most out of all of us.”
“I can guess.” Whegg said. “But it’s only guesses. Now if’n we could get ahold of a creature who’s been in the Greeneye’s service more recently, we could know fer sure.”
Torrin was nodding. “Yes, I see your point. We need to know where Tsarmina has gone, where her vassals and generals are… I’ll help you.”
He paused. “If I can. I am part rat… would they heed me, do you think?”
Whegg looked over at Torrin, taking a moment to take in his appearance. Tall for a mouse, on the shorter end for a rat, but a sharp muzzle and fangs like a rat should have. He slowly nodded. “Yeah, ya know, I think they might.”
He paused. “Just don’t go lettin’ on ya was a slave.”
Torrin just nodded in understanding. 
There was a skittering from above, and Whegg looked up in time to see a shadowed form peer down from a nearby tree. Birch’s voice was the one to reach his ears. “The squirrels are assembled.”
“As are the otters.” Spring said quickly, kelpie dancing in place.
Torrin looked to Tynek, who simply said, “We are ready.”
Sandingomm was nodding, and Whegg turned his face west as their company moved out, back toward the Moss. They moved at a quick pace through the darkened woods, and Whegg watched the shadowed forms of squirrels leap through the tree branches ahead of him. The night air bit into his fur, slashing straight past his armor like it wasn’t even there. He found himself very glad of his quilted hauberk.
The soft crunching of boots in frosty leaves was all Whegg could hear for awhile, that and the breathing of an army that left clouds of vapor to float into the black treetops. 
No one said anything, and Whegg certainly had no desire to speak. Would they even have a chance to set up their ambush? Or would they run straight into the approaching Greeneye army, and suffer even more catastrophic losses?
Eventually, a voice did call out, but it was a greeting, not a warning. And it was distinctly reptilian. 
“Have you come to zzuvey our work?”
Whegg squinted, in the gloom of night, he could only see the vague, spiney outline of the speaker. But it was long, and low to the ground, so he had no doubt in his mind it was a dragon. 
Torrin was the one to respond. “We’ve come to aid you in your ambush.”
A low, clucking chuckle rang out… at least, Whegg assumed that was laughing, for a dragon. Anyway, it sounded amused. “Aid uzz? I think you will find we are… quite convinzzing.”
“You don’t have the numbers, Yaz.” Spring snapped. “Yes, we know your intimidation tactics are impressive, that’s beside the point.”
Sandingomm leaned down to Whegg, asking, “Intimidation tactics?”
Whegg just shrugged. He didn’t know either.
Spring huffed, and Whegg couldn’t really blame her for being snappy. He didn’t even know how Warthorn had died. He hoped it had been quick. Even still, Spring surely wanted to mourn, and wasn’t letting herself because she couldn’t. And honestly, if he had lost Gina, Whegg doubted he would be coping half as well.
The otter princess snapped, “Look, you have a plan Yaz, I know it. Just show us where you want us to go.”
The shadowy figure grumbled under its breath, though to Whegg it sounded more a menacing growl. But when the dragon spoke, it just sounded annoyed. “Fine. Yar, take the mizze around to the left. Zev, take the otterzz to the right, have them make a ring. The zquirrelzz will be overhead az alwayzz.”
She flicked her tail through the crackling leaves. “You leaderzz can come with me. I will zzhow you the ambuzzh.”
There was a whump, as a squirrel dropped from a nearby tree. From the voice, Whegg knew it was Birch. “So none have crossed the Moss?”
“No.” Yaz sounded dismissive. “They are probably too zzcared. After what we did.”
Again, Whegg thought she sounded rather proud of herself, for as much as he knew of how dragon’s vocal fluxuations. 
Crunching and clopping rang out as the army behind Whegg separated, and Yaz motioned with her head, a mere silhouette in the dim light. “Come. I will zhow you.”
Whegg didn’t dismount, and he noticed the others didn’t either. Their mounts followed instead, as Yaz skittered through the forest leaves, weaving back and forth a bit like she hunted prey, though really, Whegg wondered if that was just her normal gait. And he was also growing concerned about what the dragons had done… what did they have that could possibly scare the Greeneyes into staying on their side of the Moss. Whegg was glad he wasn’t on the receiving end of it, for certain. 
The river was close now, Whegg could hear it. And he could also smell death, hanging in the air thick and overpowering. 
Torrin spoke from nearby, to Yaz. “Isn’t this near where Sayna fought the army?”
“Yezz.” The dragon’s voice floated back as they walked. “And zzhe wazz very helpful.”
Whegg found that he really didn’t like the sound of that. This part of the forest already reeked of blood and death, and he could see some of the seared cuts peppering the dark bark of the surrounding trees. 
He found it creepy enough already.
Then he made the mistake of looking up. Whegg almost screamed, and he didn’t do that often. In the low light, he couldn’t see many details, which he was more than glad of, but bodies hung from the trees. 
They were plastered against the trunks, held in place by dark silver threads that shown in the wane moonlight. Like… webs. Exactly like spider webs. 
When Yaz spoke from in front of them, the dragon sounded pleased. “Zzee? We have zztrung thezezz up all around thizz forezzt and the Mozz. The Greeneyezz are not excited to crozz.”
Whegg almost threw up.
From beside him, Sandingomm spoke in a mix of awe and concern. “Woooow… ya really know a thing or two bout scarin’ creatures outa their fur, don’t ya?”
“We are the Inuwa.” Yaz said, like this was obvious. “We are mazzterz of zcaring you zzilly day-dwellerzz, if we want to. We are the onezz who walk the night.”
“Aha.” Said Sandingomm, though she was starting to sound less scared now. “Impressive.”
Whegg still wanted to throw up, and stared at the reeking ground instead of the hanging corpses. Yes, of course he’d seen criminals… or supposed criminals… left rotting on a gallows many times, but this was an entire forest of that sort of thing. And for all the executions, the whippings, the torture, and the battles Whegg had already seen… this had to be one of the worst acts he’d witnessed.
“Well…” He managed to choke out. “I understand their hesitation.”
There went his appetite or desire to sleep for the next few days.
Something wet dripped onto his arm from above, and Whegg frantically tried to shake it off, before he saw it had left a reddish stain. Wonderful. Now there was literally blood falling from the treetops. 
“Listen, is there any activity across the Moss at all?”
Because if there wasn’t, maybe he could return to Brockhall and wash his eyes out with soap. That might be an overreaction, but really. He just didn’t want to be here.
Yaz turned her head in that direction, neck-quills rustling in the eerie silence. “I have pozzted a guard. But lazzt I looked, they were juzzt arguing about if they would come in. And who to zend if they did… again. They are not exzited about thizz. We have done our work well.”
Far too well… Whegg couldn’t help thinking.
Torrin spoke out of the darkness. “I suppose we go back to our armies then. And you tell us when they’re coming. We’d like to talk to them.”
“Talk to them?” Yar sounded confused. “Why would we need to talk to them?”
“We need the army.” Spring snapped from somewhere nearby. “No, I’m not fond of the idea myself, but it’s a valid point. Yaz, I’m down to three hundred. This isn’t a game and you’ve done a fine job of decorating as it is. You don’t need more corpses.”
Yaz actually had the decency to sound concerned. “Three hundred? That izz no good. I am zorry, Zpring. Zzo I zee your point… though I will contend we can alwayzz uze more corpzez.”
She glanced upwards, at her handiwork. “Ztill. I will let you talk. Though if they refuze, our ambuzh goez az planned?”
“That’s correct.” Said Birch’s voice, somewhere close.
“Very well.” Said Yaz. “Go hide then. I will let you know when there izz movement.”
Whegg was more than happy to obey, and retreat behind the worst of the carnage decorating the trees. His stomach still felt weak. He tried reminding himself that really, it wasn’t that bad in the face of all the things he’d seen. But then he started recalling some of those unwanted memories, and that made it all the worse. 
“Hey.” Torrin spoke from beside him, as their mounts walked into an especially dense patch of trees. “Are you alright?”
“Fine.” Whegg said, tight lipped. 
Tynek and his spotted horse entered behind him, and he thought the mouse king’s pale golden face looked rather haunted in the moonlight. Anyway, he kept glancing over his shoulder.
Sadingomm joined them, then Spring, and Birch scurried up a tree nearby. 
And they waited, among the scents of death and spilled blood, burnt wood and burnt flesh. Whegg kept his eyes straight ahead, though his ears pinned unbidden to his skull. He had been trained for this, all his life. Since he was seven he knew he would fight battles. But battles were not wars, and here the lines blurred and broke and everyone suffered.
He pleaded to Ignasa, to let whatever army came listen to their offer. Surely they didn’t want to fight for Tsarmina, not after all her actions that harmed them over and over. 
But would they want to fight for the outnumbered, downtrodden side? 
Whegg wondered what he would have done, in their place. They probably had families or lovers, across the Moss. And what would become of them?
Verdauga had ruined so much. Whegg looked down at his gauntlets, remembering his old armor, with its embossed eyes. And he found he felt shame for ever wearing it. Not for serving Gingivere, but for being a part of Verdauga’s kingdom. Maybe that was what Gingivere felt too.
Why had he lived, when so many died?
No one talked around him as they waited, not even quietly. The atmosphere seemed to snuff out conversations before they began. In the grip of winter, not even insects sang. The night kept on, and through the bare branches, Whegg actually saw the stars shift positions in the sky on the occasions he looked up.
The Greeneyes never did anything in haste, did they? But then, he knew that. The endless shuffling and ordering, and how slowly mandations traveled from the top generals. Whegg had always attempted to keep his guard more fluid… probably why Verdauga let Gingivere oversee so much of the capitol’s dealings.
And again, Whegg felt guilty. How much damage had he inadvertently caused? Would he ever know? Did he want to know? No. He decided. He didn’t. If he knew he feared he might never sleep again.
Hours had passed. Whegg found that the horror he’d witnessed really wasn’t enough to remove his desire for sleep. Yes, he might have nightmares, but his eyes were beginning to feel leaden, and all his strength felt like it was draining away. He kept shaking himself to stay awake.
Finally, blessedly, a dragon slipped into their hiding place. Whegg wasn’t sure if it was the one named Yaz though, and the voice seemed softer.
“There izz movement from the army at lazzt.”
Whegg breathed a sigh of relief, an odd emotion to have. But the silence, the death… it was crushing. And to move… to do anything… would be a welcome distraction. 
Still, time stretched on. It just kept going, each painful second dragging by. Eventually Whegg heard the tramp of boots, though somehow more subdued than the sound of the army that had attacked at the Moss. 
Whether there were less of them or they just tread quietly, Whegg couldn’t say. Either was possible.
When they finally came into Whegg’s line of sight, he couldn’t help but notice how slowly they walked, and how they kept gazing up, into the gorey trees. The dragon’s scare tactic was working, at the very least.
No one moved as the leader, the only mounted soldier, led his army deeper into the forest of death… and closer to them. Whegg stared at him intently as he lifted his helmet’s visor, presumably to look for the creatures responsible. And Whegg’s heart sank to his boots, because he knew that graying face, the reddish fur untouched with silver. 
Oh Rupert.
Whegg closed his eyes for a moment. Why did it have to be him?
When he was less than twenty yards away, his army behind him, Torrin spoke softly. “Now?”
Whegg saw Sandingomm nod, and nodded himself. From the tree above, Birch quietly called down, “We have your backs.”
Sandingomm and her black horse moved first, then Torrin and his kelpie. And finally Whegg’s horse walked after them. 
The Greeneye army bristled at the slightest crunching of their first movements, and by the time they walked from the trees, every face Whegg could see stared at him in horror. Not that he could blame them.
Metal on metal filled the air, but Sandingomm held up a paw, horse half rearing. “I wouldn’t do that if’n I was ya.”
Rupert stared at her, at the three of them, drawn sword held offensively. “What… who are ya? Yer that cat aren’t ya, the one with the prince… what’s goin’ on?”
“What’s going on?” Torrin spoke from the other side of Sandingomm. “What do you think is going on? You attacked us, did you really think we wouldn’t retaliate? This is what happens when you cross us.”
From all Whegg could tell, a shudder ran through the entire army. He leaned forward as his horse stepped more into view. “Ya trespassed here, an’ killed our creatures.”
“Whegg?” Rupert’s voice shook as his bridled feral danced nervously, likely because of the reeking stench of battle. “Yer a part a all this?”
“And ya kiss Tsarmina’s paws.” Whegg said, flatly.
Rupert kept his sword out, but faltered. He glanced behind him and up, where Whegg could just make out some dangling bodies. Then Rupert met Whegg’s gaze again, saying, “Only cause I have ta be… don’t tell me ya did that yerself, ya never did like bloody stuff too much.”
From behind him, Whegg heard one of the dragons speak. “He did not. We did, for we protect thezze forezztzz.”
The breathy, hissing voice carried well through the trees, in the darkness. Whegg didn’t have to turn to guess the dragon hadn’t shown themselves from the cries and mutters of the soldiers, and how they backed into each other, looking frantically around.
Seconds later, a voice spoke from an entirely different place in the black trees. “You have killed our alliezz.”
Even Whegg started, and he wasn’t much more composed when yet another dragon spoke from yet another area. “You have harmed our landzz.”
The next voice floated down from above, still clearly draconic. “And now you will pay, if you do not lizzten.”
Whegg was fairly certain some of Rupert’s soldiers were actually crying. The intimidation tactic was working at least. More draconic voices spoke, one right after another, all from different places in the surrounding woods. Some seemed at ground level, and others rang from above. 
“You were foolizzh to come here.”
“We will drink your blood like we did theirzz.”
“There izz no ezzcape.”
Rupert looked like he was probably about to lose his dinner. Sandingomm’s voice sounded like she was grinning. “Ya see? Ya shouldn’t a crossed us. We’ve been waitin’ fer ya ta show up fer hours an’ my guardian freinds are gettin’ hungry.”
Several of the dragons spoke at once, and echoes of “Huungry…” rang throughout the woods. 
Some of the Greeneyes were openly sobbing now, especially the younger looking ones. Whegg did feel bad for them. 
Rupert stared at Sandingomm, still holding his sword out, though his arm trembled and so did his blade. “Yer a vermin like us!”
“I ain’t nothin’ like ya.” Sandingomm stuck her nose in the air. “I’m a queen an’ yer that bratty little princess’s boot-licker.’
Rupert’s sword shook even more. “I ain’t! I’ve been tryin’ ta sabotage her since day one! I mean… since we had a hope the Prince might live.” 
Whegg felt his eyebrows raise unbidden as Rupert turned to him. “Me an’ Duane… ya know Duane… we worked together til he died. C’mon Whegg, ya know me, I was always loyal ta Gingivere.”
Whegg opened his mouth, but Torrin spoke first. “I wonder how loyal he thinks you are after you stood by and let him be poisoned.”
“I didn’t…” Rupert sputtered as he yanked back on his jittery mount’s reins. “Look here, I switched those poisons, ok! He’d have died in minutes if it weren’t fer me!”
Torrin made a noise akin to shocked choking, and Sandingomm blurted, “That was ya?”
Silence ruled the woods, outside of sluggish dripping from some of the suspended corpses. Even the Greeneye soldiers were silent… apparently none of them had known of Rupert’s underpawed dealings either.
In fact one soldier standing close to him looked up at him in shock, asking, “Ya did what?”
“Oh don’t act so surprised!” Rupert snapped. “Try dealing first-paw with Tsarmina for over a day, and I’d like to see a creature who wouldn’t want her dead. Outside of that buffoon Cludd.”
Whegg just… stared. What an admission. Rupert wasn’t done.
“She’s a spoilt little kitten an’ I’ll be sent ta Hellgates before I die fer her fool’s errand. Ya, the cat who claims a crown!”
He pointed his sword at Sandingomm. “Ya served Prince Gingivere?”
Sandingomm snorted. “Yer prince serves me. And he’s far from dead… thanks ta ya, I suppose.”
“How…” Rupert stared at her. “Did ya get Gingivere ta follow ya? The prince doesn’t… follow.”
“I have me ways.” Sandingomm said. “An’ the way I see it, ya don’t got a choice bout this. I mean, I guess ya do. Ya kin join yer friends up in the trees.”
A collective shudder seemed to rock the entire Greeneye army. And there were a lot of them; from what Whegg could see, probably at least four thousand. But that was just what he could see in the dark and trees. He had the feeling there were more.
Rupert shook his head. “Listen. If the prince is alive I don’t care. I’ll serve ya. I donno ya but I’ve been kicked around by Tsarmina enough fer multiple lifetimes, an’ I ain’t gonna take it no more.” 
He swallowed. Then he lowered his weapon and his head. “I offer ya me sword.”
A rippling murmur breezed through the Greeneye ranks. Whegg felt that surprise too. Rupert must truly be done with Tsarmina’s nonsense. Sandingomm lifted her chin. “I accept.”
Rupert paused only a second, before tapping his boots to his mount’s sides, and urging it toward Sandingomm. One of his soldiers held out a paw. “Wait, general! What about us?”
He looked over his shoulder. “What about ya? Make yer choice. I’ve made mine. Die at Tsarmina’s orders, or die defyin’ her. How many a ya have lost family thanks ta her idiotic actions? Think about that.”
With that he turned to Sandingomm, and he didn’t look back.
Torrin rode forward, holding out a paw. “There is a place for our kind in Mossflower, there always has been. Some creatures lied about it, and caused others to forget. But we are setting the record straight, and we would allow you to be a part of that.”
Solain stopped, stomping a back hoof as Torrin said, “I know the circumstances are not ideal. But we offer you the mercy to live, though we could kill you.”
Whegg leaned down to say something to his mount, but the horse seemed to understand and walked forward anyway. He took that moment to collect himself, then said. “I will not lie ta ya. I won’t paint a grand picture a glory. I’ll simply state the obvious. Join us or die here, we have ya surrounded.”
Honestly, with numbers Rupert had, if they panicked and bolted, they probably could get away. And at least some of them would survive.
Sure enough, about forty of them tried. Maybe as many as fifty, but they did so in disorder, their companions still standing where they were. Whegg wasn’t close enough to see much more than a large, dark shape drop from above, and see the larger group of deserters began to fall like prairie grass in a fire.
Hissing arrows from the squirrels rained from the trees, felling the rest of those running away.
The dark shape, a dragon, Whegg was sure, finished ravishing those who had tried to flee, and with a haunting hiss, it melted into the shadows, seeming to evaporate from existence. 
Whimpers came from the Greeneye army again, and a lot of them seemed to be shaking. Whegg knew if he was in their boots, he’d be ready to faint.
Sandingomm spoke up. “I ain’t jokin’. I’d like ta work with ya. Have a mutually beneficial pact. But if ya resist this, ya will die.”
Her horse reared as she called out, “Do I make meself clear?”
Murmurs filled the air, and then one soldier near the front of the army knelt. More followed his example, and within moments, the entire group did, from what Whegg could see.
Rupert turned to Sandingomm, asking, “What are ya called, milady?”
“Sandingomm Keir.” She lifted her chin, pale blue eyes alight in the glow of the moon. “Queen a the reforged throne.”
Rupert saluted her with his sword. “All hail the lady Keir! Our new queen.”
Whegg just stared. Sandingomm grinned, fangs gleaming, as Rupert asked, “Do we lay down our weapons?”
Sandingomm snorted. “As if. Ya keep those weapons, an’ ya fight fer me now.”
That… could get risky. Whegg could just imagine how easily, if a battle went poorly how these could turn on them in the heat of it. And yet they were already backed so far into a corner, he supposed it didn’t matter. They had a better chance with these soldiers than without them.
Rupert bowed his head, and sheathed his sword. There was a monumental whisper of metal and leather as the rest of his soldiers did the same. Torrin looked at Sandingomm, asking, “Where will we have them all stay?”
“Eh.” Said Sandingomm, “We’ll figure somethin’ out. I know the villagers who came with us have been busy makin’ towns.”
Rupert looked at her. “Villagers?”
Whegg sighed. “Honestly, did ya think Gingivere would order the deaths a so many innocent kits? I think he would sooner die himself. We never killed one of the citizens in those towns we burnt; they came with us.”
Some of the bowing soldiers close enough to hear looked sharply up, and Whegg saw the wonder and hope began to grow on their faces. Of course, some of these likely had families in the towns that had defected already. That made him feel slightly better about their motivations, though he still planned to watch them closely.
Or as closely as he could. Because now that the immediate rush of energy at confronting the army had passed, Whegg knew he would collapse soon. He hoped he could get back to Brockhall and bathe… but they might not have time for that. And sleep was ultimately more important. So he should sleep, and then bathe, unless he should eat first. It took a few moments to even get the opinions of Birch, Spring, and Tynek, but it was decided that they would bring the soldiers back to Brockhall and Sandingomm would ask Gingivere’s council on where exactly to place them all. 
Whegg just focused on staying alert and observing their new army. Not too much time later, he found himself riding on one side of Rupert while Sandingomm and Torrin rode on the other. For the most part, Whegg let the other two interrogate his old comrade in arms. 
“So ya say she’s got how many vassals workin’ fer her?” Sandingomm asked.
Rupert shrugged. “Four. There’s Lord Ranulf, Lord Deidric, Lady Jerilyn, and Lord Yamir. She’s currently at Ranulf’s castle… er… that’d be Theas-Lidir.”
Sandingomm sniffed. “That’s my castle, actually.”
Rupert just looked confused, and Sandingomm grumbled, “Well, it should be anyways. Go on.”
Rupert nodded slowly. “Er, yes me queen. Lady Jerilyn currently has the largest force in raw numbers, but Lord Ranulf has a cavalry. Both will cause the biggest issues in the event of a assault.”
Torrin leaned forward, peering around Sandingomm. “What of the other two?”
“They’re smaller.” Rupert said. “See, Ranulf controls the river and Lady Jerilyn the western defences. The other two is kinda in the middle, they just manage farmland.”
Whegg found himself nodding. “My parents led a village in Yamir’s jurisdiction.”
He thought back to then, and found it truly stretched his mind. So much had happened, and had he ever really been a kit? It all felt so long ago. But he nodded. “Things were a lot more lax there.”
“Right.” Said Rupert. “Yamir barely has an army, since he’s so centrally located. And Deidric has the mining colonies to the north. But Jerilyn is going to be a problem, since she’s brought her entire force to aid Tsarmina, and they’re even better trained than Ranulf since they’ve actually seen some action out west. An’ they weren’t hit hard at all in the Distemper.”
Whegg felt… a little cold. When Distemper swept the land, what had become of his parents? He hadn’t even considered it, really. He had a new life and that one was just so long ago. But he still felt a little guilty for the thought not even crossing his mind until now. 
They’d been walking for some time, and the Greeneye army stretched endlessly behind them, flanked by some from the other courts. Whegg knew this path, he knew they were close. He looked to Sandingomm. “I’ll ride ahead and tell them of our arrival.”
“Sound’s good.” Sandingomm nodded. “I’d rather not be shot tanight.”
Whegg rode past Rupert, glancing at him as he did. “Oh by the way?”
Rupert looked up, and Whegg said, “Duane ain’t dead.”
With that, his horse sped up and they galloped along the dark road to Brockhall.
Whegg let his mind relax as best he could, tried to let his worries be washed away in the rhythmic hoofbeats on the crunching leaves. It helped, but he still felt twisted into too many knots and like his attention was demanded by many things all at once… because it was. He dismounted when his mount slid to a halt outside Brockhall’s kitchen door, and after a hurried thank you for the transportation, he ran inside. He didn’t tell Bella, just the guards near the door. He doubted the lady of the house would be in any mood to hear his news. 
Then he waited in the kitchen awhile, noting that the crowding in the corridors seemed to have subsided, the ones he could see at very least. The otters must have found rooms to take shelter in. 
Once he saw Sandingomm and the new recruits approaching, Whegg recalled that she’d mentioned asking Gingivere’s advice and deciding he should probably warn the prince of her coming. Just so he would have a little more time to think of a solution. 
He made his way to the infirmary, and found that aside from Germaine’s daughter, it was empty. Whegg peered into Gingvere’s room, only to see he was sleeping, and Whegg decided that Sandingomm or no, he would let the prince sleep as long as he possibly could. Whegg slipped back into the main room of the infirmary, letting Gingivere’s curtain fall closed behind him. Patients lay in beds here and there, and he had no doubt all the adjoining rooms were full.
He leaned against the wall. How many creatures had he killed today? He wanted to sleep, but if he closed his eyes, he’d probably see those corpses strung up by webs in the trees again.
The main door opened, and Whegg smiled weakly when he saw Gina shoulder her way in. But it faded the next second. Her head was down, and she gripped her right arm in her left paw. Blood had been smeared all down the front of her dress. 
She looked up, and started when she noticed him. For a second, neither of them moved, and then Gina bolted across the room for him. Whegg had time to hold out his arms, before she tackled him in a hug and he stumbled against the wall. He slipped, sliding down to sit on the ground, but Gina just curled closer to him, closing her eyes. 
He slid off a gauntlet and stroked her messy hair as she whispered, “Yer alright.”
“I didn’t even have ta fight.” Whegg assured her, wearily.
“I’m not good enough.” She sniffed. “We’ve lost so many.”
Whegg held her closer, feeling his stress start to simply melt away, leaving him feeling very deflated. “It’s not yer fault, Honey.”
He curled around her, closing his eyes. “Not yer fault.”
She might smell like blood, but she was still Gina. And she was warm, and comforting, and he just couldn’t keep going.
Whegg woke to someone shaking him, unsure of where he was, or how much time had passed. “Whegg!”
He shook himself a little, blinking his eyes open. “Hnng… what?”
Gina was the one trying to wake him. She grabbed both his paws, fear in her eyes. “Whegg, we’re under attack.”
That woke him up. He stared past Gina, to where Torrin and Indigo were standing. Indigo nodded stiffly. “Sorry ta wake ya an the lady, sir. But we are being besieged by Greeneye armies as we speak.”
“How…” Whegg sat up. “How long did I sleep?”
“About six hours.” Torrin said. “I’m not much better, Indigo just woke me.”
Gina gripped his arm tighter, asking, “I was asleep fer six hours… why didn’t Germaine wake me…”
She moved to scramble up, but tripped on her skirt, and Whegg steadied her. “Hey, hey. It’s alright. Ya need sleep too, ya can’t help anyone if’n yer about ta pass out.”
He got to his paws, and helped her up. She really did look worse for wear, and Whegg could only imagine how terrible it must be to struggle to save what war broke. He leaned down and kissed her on the cheek, saying, “I know ya kin do this.”
Gina swallowed, but nodded as Whegg picked his gauntlet off the ground beside where he’d fallen asleep and slipped it on. Then he turned to Torrin and Indigo. “I’m ready.”
Even if he was no such thing.
==Chapter 59 Brother's Reckoning==
Brek woke slowly, the roof of his mouth feeling like he’d swallowed sand. He lay on a bed, and he knew this room, or the ones like it. He’d been here plenty of times, and the rooms adjoining Brockhall’s infirmary were beginning to feel eerily home-like. 
It took him a few moments to realize that he’d woken to voices. Brek carefully sat up, recognizing Whegg as one of the speakers. But each movement took time and effort, and once he’d finally gotten out of bed and limped to the door, no one was even in the main room. In fact Brek lifted his curtain as he heard the outer door shut. 
How had he even gotten here? The last thing he remembered was teleporting to stop Tsarmina’s blade…
Gingivere. 
Brek froze. Where was Gingivere?
He gripped the doorframe, slowly leaning against it as pieces of memory slid into place and his world picked up where it had left off… in the midst of collapse. Brek dug his claws into the wood as his legs shook, and tears blurred his vision. 
Gingivere’s words rang in his head, as he told him he was dead anyway.
Brek bit his lip, swallowing so hard it hurt. Why had he lived, if Gingivere had died? What was the point, his purpose to even exist? Without the closest family he had left, Brek found a numbness growing deep in his chest that quickly spread to his mind. Sayna and Rose had grown up and left him, his mother was dead, and now Gingivere too? 
“Why didn’t you just let me die?” Brek muttered dully, clinging to the doorway.
He slowly slid down to the floor, burying his face against the wood. Every fiber of his being felt like threads on a loom, wound far too tight and strained to their breaking point. He didn’t even look up when he heard the infirmary door open, and pattering pawsteps fill the former silence. They stopped close by, then came closer, accompanied by a voice. “Brek? Are you… what are you doing out of bed?”
Brek sniffed, and slowly looked up to see the blurry form of Amyl, Germaine’s daughter. She had her paws on her knees as she bent down to gaze worriedly at him.
He just shook his head and whispered, “Gingivere.”
Then he looked away. A paw slid onto his shoulder, and Amyl said, “Come with me.”
Dully, uncaringly, Brek slowly pulled himself onto his paws. Amyl took his arm and led him deeper into the infirmary, and he wasn’t even sure why he let her. Maybe he just couldn’t be bothered to care anymore.
But Amyl led him to a curtained room, and then pulled him inside. And Brek stared, frozen, barely able to comprehend what he was seeing.
It was Gingivere, laid across several beds… and wonder of wonders, his chest rose and fell. He slowly looked at Amyl, who smiled at him. “Mother says he’ll be fine; the poison wasn’t lethal.”
Brek slowly looked back at Gingivere’s sleeping form, dumbfounded. He rubbed at his tears with the back of his paw, sniffed, and suddenly felt rather silly. So he said all he could think to say. 
“Oh.”
He looked at Amyl again. “He’ll be alright?”
She nodded. “In a few days, mother says he’ll be walking again so long as he takes it easy.”
Brek just rubbed away the rest of his tears, and felt even more stupid for reacting before knowing all the facts. He wiped his sleeve across his muzzle, and again said, “Oh.”
After a moment, he added, “Good.”
He glanced down at Amyl, suddenly realizing she’d never let go of his arm. But he had no time to ask about it, since a loud thump came from the main room of the infirmary behind him, and Amyl jumped. She ducked a little behind him as Brek asked, “What was that?”
“I don’t know.” She suddenly sounded scared. “They can’t have gotten in so far!”
“They?” Brek tenced, mind beginning to race again.
When he’d passed out, he badly injured Tsarmina, but unless she died technically the duel wasn’t won by anyone. And that meant… he looked to Amyl, gasping, “How long was I asleep?”
“A day and a half. And we’re under attack. I was just coming to get mother more bandages…” She froze. “I was coming to get mother more bandages.”
Ayml rushed from Gingivere’s room and Brek followed, the curtain flapping in his wake. 
From what Brek could see, the infirmary itself was still free of any invaders. Still he reached for his sword and found it wasn’t at his side. Amyl was digging through some cabinets, and he called to her, “My sword?”
“Check your room!” She said, stuffing supplies into a satchel. 
Brek hurried to the room he’d woken in, finding strength was returning to his legs. He was glad of that, though it did surprise him. But how was he supposed to manage using this gift if it caused him to pass out every time he teleported?
Ask for help.
Brek skidded through his curtain, trying to ignore his probably logical brain. Sure enough, his sheathed sword leaned against the bed he’d been sleeping in, and when he buckled the belt around his waist and drew the blade, he saw it was still stained with blood. Tsarmina’s blood. Sadly, Brek had no time to clean his prized weapon.
There was a slam from outside, and a scream, probably Amyl’s. Brek ran from the room, in time to see about ten soldiers in Greeneye armor rush in through the main door, now hanging open. Amyl hid behind the open door of the cupboard she’d been digging through, a small knife clutched in one paw. But it took Brek only a second to realize that now he was the main focus of the soldiers. 
Before they could rush him, he attacked. 
Just like training. Brek danced the steps of a dance he’d learned well. Just don’t make a mistake.
And he didn’t. Each step was fluid, perfect. He threw himself between the first soldier’s legs, sliding across the floor under him as he slashed up with his slender blade, a blade small enough most armor’s cracks allowed it passage.
Brek vaulted onto his boots as the first solder fell with a shriek of pain, and before his stunned companions could react, Brek dashed for the next, targeting the armorless backs of his legs. The soldier staggered and fell as another brought a cleaver-like sword down at Brek’s head. Brek threw himself to the side, rolling back along the floor with a large, wet splash as he grabbed the guard’s tail. He used it to counterbalance and right himself, before slashing down with his sword.
The ferret’s tail came loose as it’s owner wailed in pain, and Brek staggered back. He fell on his haunches into water, and he was positively soaking. But he wasn’t in the pool…
Brek looked up in confusion, finding the pool had flooded, and filled the entire infirmary floor. What in Ignasa’s name… Brek started, looking frantically around for the other soldiers, but they stared at the water around their ankles, and many of them struggled to lift their boots. They weren’t having much luck. Around their legs, the water seemed… sticky.
But when Brek lifted the paw holding his sword from the water, it wasn’t sticky. 
Then the water began drawing back toward the pool, like it was rushing toward a drain. It swept harmlessly around Brek just like he sat in a stream, but the Greeneye soldiers began yelling and cursing, and seconds later, the crashes of falling armored bodies made Brek wince. He could do nothing but watch in horrified amazement as the attackers were dragged inwards, toward the crystal pool.
One grabbed at his leg as he was pulled past, and in his shock, Brek yelped and kicked the soldier in the face.
The creature released him and was dragged backwards, into the pool and below the surface. A final soldier scraped his way into the pool, clawing at the floor before he vanished with a cry cut short by water.
Brek gulped, and looked across the room where Amyl still hid behind her cabinet door and clutched her knife. Then he slowly stood, clothes dripping though there was no more water on the floor. Amyl suddenly scrambled to his side, grabbing hold of him and whimpering, “What was that?”
“Y… you’ve lived here longer than I have.” Brek’s voice cracked a bit.
“It’s never done this!” Amyl protested, staring at the bodies beneath the water.
They just stood like that for a moment, staring at the soldiers trapped in the pool. And indeed, Brek doubted anyone but Bella could pull them out. After a moment, Amyl said, “I still need to get mother her bandages.”
She didn’t take her eyes off the pool, however. 
Brek thought of offering to help her, but if soldiers had come this far, they might do so again, and what if they found Gingivere? But for her insistence, Amyl didn’t seem keen to leave, or even to let go of his arm. After seeing what they had, he really couldn’t blame her.
“I’d help…” Brek said, “But I can’t leave Gingivere.”
Someone ran through the open door, and Brek stiffened, but relaxed when he saw it was only Sayna’s fox mentor, Groddil. He blinked at Brek and Amyl, then the undoubtedly now corpses in the pool, and nodded. “I… take it that the house did what it does best.”
Brek just nodded. 
“Is Asher alright?” Groddil asked.
Brek knew he looked as confused as he felt, but Amyl nodded, finally letting go of his arm. “I think so sir, we can check.”
At least Amyl knew what he was talking about, because Brek didn’t. Groddil nodded and shut the doors, turning the lock. Brek slowly sheathed his blade as he noticed Groddil’s blood-spattered clothes and the wary look in his yellow eyes.
“How bad is it out there?” Brek asked, following Groddil and Amyl as they walked deeper into the infirmary. 
“Bad.” Groddil said, glancing over his shoulder. “Sandingomm managed to get us a group of defectors from the Greeneyes, but it isn’t enough. They’ve brought twenty against us.”
Brek didn’t feel the need to clarify if that meant twenty thousand, because of course it did.
Groddil hurried to the deepest room in the infirmary, one at the very back. Amyl went with him, and Brek stopped at the door, though he peered inside. Groddil picked something out of a crib, which Brek assumed to be a kit, then sat on the bed nearby and rocked the little one. Out of pure curiosity, Brek took a step forward, and then froze. 
The pieces in his mind were suddenly clicking into place. Groddil had been carrying this kit around, Brek knew that, he just hadn’t really paid attention. But now that he was looking at the kit in more detail, he was starting to feel a little cold. That black and red fur greatly reminded him of two creatures, one of which he knew he’d rather forget, and the other he still wasn’t sure.
“Wait…” He said. “That’s not Ferran’s kit, is it?”
Groddil sighed as he held the little fox cub close and stroked its face. “I am his father now.”
Brek gaped. “We kept Ferran’s kit?”
“Well what would you have me do? He is my kin, my blood, and a helpless infant.” Groddil said, slowly standing and placing the little one back in his crib. He leaned down and kissed the kit’s shock of orange hair, before righting himself and meeting Brek’s stunned gaze. “I do fear Ferran will not stop trying to take him until he succeeds or dies in the attempt.”
Brek stared. “Ferran’s coming back?”
Groddil nodded, grimly. “And the chaos caused by this attack may give him the boldness to try.”
“Ferran’s coming back now?” Brek gasped, feeling his heart nearly stop in his chest. “I can barely do any magic!”
Groddil looked at him oddly. “Of course you can, I’ve seen you. You are a promising young…”
“No, you don’t understand!” Brek interrupted, before looking down and rubbing his arm. “Germaine says I didn’t learn basic magic before I started doing the complicated stuff, and now she says I have what she calls ‘magic fatigue’. That’s… why I keep passing out when I use it.”
He felt dumber than ever for having said it all aloud. 
Groddil blinked, then took several steps forward and knelt before Brek. “It’s alright, you know.”
Brek shook his head. “It’s not. I was given something amazing and I wasted it! I ruined everything and now I’m no good for anything.”
For a second, Groddil just met his gaze, blinking hard as his eyes glistened, almost like tears. Then he wrapped Brek in a tight hug, one of the tightest he had ever experienced, and for some reason, he didn’t hate it. After a moment, Brek melted against the far larger fox as tears began to fall.
“That’s a lie.” Groddil said at last. “Don’t listen to it. Lies get under your fur and into your mind and they break you. They whisper in your head until you hear nothing else and you forget the one who gave this gift to you in the beginning of things. Lies are the dark wolf’s best weapon, and they can tear down the greatest Prophets.”
His next words were so full of conviction, Brek shuddered.
“I know how powerful they can be.”
And for a second, hugging the older, wiser Prophet, Brek did know. He did not see, but he knew the lie Groddil had had believed. And the one he had told.
Brek started, drawing back a little as Groddil hung his head, saying softly, “Do you see what I mean?”
“You… but… you’re a guardian! Of my sister!” Brek could barely comprehend the information that he’d just learned. He stared up at him. “You were a Necromancer?”
“One of the best.” Groddil sighed. “Or more accurately, the worst.”
He leaned back, placing his paws in his lap. “But I know the darkness better even than my fellow Prophets, because I have lived in its depths. So if you need guidance and would hear the words of such a creature, all you must do is ask.”
Part of Brek wanted to recoil, at that lie Groddil had shown him, the one he had uttered. And yet… Brek too had lied. He had lived a lie for the better part of his life, in one way or another.
He looked down at his paws, then met Groddil’s gaze. “How do you start? With the small things, how do you begin this journey? I think I’ve always started halfway through. How do you imagine what you can’t see?”
“You don’t see this, Brek.” Groddil stood, held out a paw. “You believe Ignasa, and you become it.”
Brek slowly took the paw, and stood. “But to teleport, I have to see where I’m going in my head.”
Groddil shook his head, looking to the curtained door. And Brek realized they were having this conversation while a battle raged outside. 
“Listen.” Groddil said. “You have what’s basically a house with no foundation. In truth, I have never teleported and I do not understand it. But I do know it’s extremely advanced and for you to simply have it, you will one day be a powerful Prophet indeed. But magic is simply the manifestation of Ignasa’s power interacting with your soul. Feel him, and trust him, and follow his lead.”
Brek found himself slowly nodding as Groddil said, “These are the first steps of a Prophet.”
Yes, Brek realized, that was how he had begun. But lately he had begun focusing on how to envision the magic, and not so much what it felt like, deep inside. 
“Think of it as a dance.” Said Groddil. “A dance where Ignasa leads. You must take those steps too, but if you try to lead, you will fall out of balance and rhythm. Then you are open for attack by our enemies; and mighty are they.”
Groddil smiled weakly. “I will say more as I can. I am loath to leave these rooms for fear Ferran will come. I know he will come. But I will at least see the corridor outside is clear.”
Amyl smiled shakily up at him from where she stood near the door. “Since the way to mother is probably blocked… I could watch him and call out if something is strange.”
Groddil paused, and Brek thought he looked hesitant to agree. But Amyl tried to smile even more. “I’ve grown up around mother. This is a battle I might not fight myself, but I do understand it. And perhaps some day… I will fight it.”
Groddil nodded, saying, “I won’t be long.”
Then he hurried from the room, silver brush of a tail swirling behind him. Brek let out a deep breath, then glanced at Amyl and said, “I’m going to check on Gingivere really fast.”
He slipped from the room, wishing, to some degree, that the conversation with Groddil had been more private. But he supposed there was no time for that. The infirmary was quiet, and Brek tried to remember which room Gingivere had been in since they all looked the same. He cautiously pulled back the curtain on several housing other creatures in beds, which he hurriedly left alone. They all seemed to be sleeping, though. Eventually, he did find Gingivere’s room, and the prince hadn’t been disturbed, from what Brek could see.
He pulled back and let the curtain fall closed as hurried bootsteps made him look up and reach for his sword. He relaxed when he saw it was only Groddil. 
The relief didn’t last long.
Groddil rushed to his side, saying, “Brek… I hate to ask you this…”
“Tell me.” Brek said, before fully thinking. But there was probably no time for regrets or second guesses.
“Asher, my kit.” Groddil said. “Take him somewhere… anywhere but here. He cannot be near me right now.”
Brek nodded. “It’s Ferran.”
He didn’t have to ask. Groddil gritted his teeth. “He has felt me, and fought me, and no distance could keep him from me if he feels inclined to face me. Asher however, he cannot follow so easily.”
“So… just hide with him?”
Groddil nodded. “Please. I’ll do anything in return… and hurry. I will buy you time and face Ferran here.”
“Gingivere…” Brek began.
Groddil shook his head. “Is not Ferran’s target.”
Brek realized that he probably would be of no help here anyway as Groddil said, “I’ll keep him away from your prince. Hurry!”
Brek paused only a second longer, then bolted for the room Asher and Amyl were in. When he rushed through the curtain, Ayml leapt to her paws. Brek grabbed the fox cub, wincing at how heavy he already was. How he was really supposed to do this, Brek wasn’t sure.
“We have to get out through the hallway before…” Brek began, but Ayml grabbed his arm.
She shook her head. “No, I know another way. Come with me.”
Brek let her lead him out through the curtained doorway, and diagonally across the room. He could see Groddil standing by the pool, tail switching as he stared at the closed main door. Amyl stopped next to a tall bookshelf, where a simple oaken door stood. It would have been nothing special, if the rest of the doors in this place were not curtains.
Ayml pulled a small ring of keys up from the rope belt at her waist, and unlocked the door. As she pulled it open to reveal darkness she said, “Careful, there’s a staircase. It’s twelve steps down.”
Brek could see the beginnings of it, and he clutched Asher to his chest as the kit was growing increasingly heavy. Thankfully he hadn’t started crying yet. Brek hurried down the stairs as Amyl pulled the door closed, sending them into utter darkness. He heard the lock in the door above click shut, then Amyl’s pattering paws. She brushed past him into whatever room this was, and Brek noticed how cool the air was down here. 
“Wait there.” Said Amyl. 
He did as there was a bit of scuffling, and then a wash of blue light as Amyl opened the shutters of a crystal lantern, clearly powered by magic.
Brek blinked, staring around at a part of the infirmary he’d never known existed.
A table sat at one end, and various sharp implements hung on the walls around it. Counters were below them, as well as some shelves of suspicious jars. It was all very clean, but the floor around the table seemed permanently stained with something dark. And the whole place smelled like blood.
Brek stared at Amyl slowly, not really wanting to ask.
“What?” She glanced behind her.
“You didn’t mention we were going to your dungeon.”
“It’s not!” Amyl protested, rolling her eyes and grabbing his arm. “Look, come on. We don’t have time.”
Brek let her lead him through the sterilized marble room, glancing at the sizable wooden table as they passed. Sure enough, the wooden surface was stained too. And the jars on shelves… well Brek was determined to not look too closely, but he was pretty sure some held body parts.
Amyl took him to a staircase at the room’s other side as she said, “It’s not like mother ever dissects living beings. That’s terrible! We just need to know how creatures are put together so we can save the living ones. It’s not hurting anybody.”
She ran up a staircase leading out, much like the first. Brek followed quickly, because while he understood she was probably right, it was still terribly creepy.
Amyl had to unlock this door too, and they ran out into an empty hallway. It was a bit more empty, in fact, than what Brek was used to. He didn’t even see any water on the walls or ceiling. This must truly be the depths of Brockhall. He’d been expecting soldiers, an attack, but here all was quiet and still, the only sound was dripping water, far, far off. 
“This way.” Ayml said softly after she’d locked the door. 
She ran down the corridor, bare paws pattering on the stones. 
“Not so fast.” Brek protested. “I’m carrying a kit.”
And a heavy kit at that. Brek looked down at Asher, who stared up at him solemnly. He wasn’t sniffling… just yet. And Brek really hoped he wouldn’t, because if Ferran heard a crying kit… Brek shuddered. He would come, unless Groddil could kill him.
“Give him strength Ignasa… please.” Brek prayed silently in his mind as he ran down the hallway as best he could.
“Up the stairs.” Amyl said softly, pointing to a set of them that led up into near blackness. Brek obeyed and she stayed beside him, her lantern lighting the way. It felt to Brek, in that moment, that they were the only creatures left in the world, running in that circle of cold light.
They reached the top and Ayml turned left. Brek adjusted his grip on Asher because the cub was slipping again, and his arms were screaming at this point. Asher whined a bit, and Brek leaned against the wall, saying, “Amyl, I can’t keep this up… he’s too heavy.”
And Brek was certain the way he was carrying Asher couldn’t be comfortable. It wasn’t comfortable for him at least. 
Amyl trotted back, tapping her paw to her chin. “Can you carry him on your back?”
“If I tied him on with something, but I…”
Amyl pulled a roll of bandages out of her apron pocket. Brek blinked, then said, “Oh.”
It took a moment, but they managed to get Asher tied reasonably comfortably on Brek’s back. Anyway, the cub stopped sniffling, and a little of the stress faded from Brek’s mind.
He straightened up, gripping the bandages going over his shoulders as he asked, “Where are we going?”
“My mother.” Amyl said, grabbing her lantern, which she’d set on the ground nearby. “She’s in the ballroom. She can help us.”
“Shouldn’t we just hide up here?”
Amyl shook her head. “I know you haven’t see many but the lower floors at the very least are crawling with Greeneyes.”
She kept looking straight ahead, but Brek heard the tremble in her tone. “It isn’t pretty.”
“I… have my sword.” Brek offered. 
“And you’re carrying Asher.” Amyl shot back. “We need extra paws. Luna is helping keep the Greeneyes from the wounded, as is Sandingomm. That’s three Prophets, it’s only logical to go to them.”
Brek didn’t really have a good argument for that. He just followed in silence, and thankfully, Asher was silent too. If anyone had told him he’d be carrying Ferran and Fortunata’s kit through Brockhall even this morning, he’d have told them they were crazy. 
He should be with Gingivere right now. 
But then, Groddil was there. And he was a far stronger Prophet than Brek. So… Gingivere was in good paws? And Brek doubted many Greeneye soldiers would want to interrupt a Prophet and Necromancer battle.
“So.” He said after a moment, his back beginning to ache. “How far is the ballroom?”
Amyl turned down a corridor, saying, “Just this way.”
A few moments later, Brek could hear vague shouts, orders, and groans. Next he smelled blood, and not long after Ayml closed the shutters of her lantern because the surroundings had grown brighter thanks to whatever room was beyond the doorway just ahead. Seconds later Brek walked through the wide, pillared archway and onto a white wooden balcony. A curving staircase branched off either side of it, and swirled down into the great hall far below. 
Once Brek had sat at a table there, on the night all Mossflower celebrated his sister’s ascension to the throne.
Now it was filled with injured, and smelled of coppery blood and fragrant herbs. Amyl set her lantern on the floor and grabbed his paw. “Come on.”
She didn’t meet his gaze as they descended the marble staircase, into a truly miserable host. Brek could see Rose working on an otter across the room, Luna near her side. Gina was here too. Some of the injured lay still in sleep, but some he saw Brek was sure lay still in death. There just had been no time to remove them. The once white, reflective floor was smeared with blood and red paw prints. 
Amyl pulled him around and under the double staircase, to a set of wooden doors that were slightly cracked open. She let go of his arm to open them a little more, and Brek saw Germaine, her head in her paws as she leaned on a counter against the far wall. He saw her crystal glasses near her elbow.
“Mother?” Amyl asked, and Germaine wheeled around.
She didn’t even grab her glasses, she just froze for a second, then ran at Amyl and tackled her into a hug. Germaine said nothing for a moment, before setting Amyl down and rubbing at her eyes. “You had better have gotten me bandages in all that time.”
Amyl glanced at Brek, and Asher. “We had some trouble.”
“Why am I not surprised.” Germaine ran a paw down her face as she walked to the counter and picked up her glasses. She rubbed them on her apron, asking, “What is it now?”
Brek adjusted his grip on the bandage sling holding Asher to his back. “Ferran’s come for his kit.”
Germaine froze, then scowled. “Oh a thousand curses be upon him and may he die of the plague. He can get in line with the rest of the creatures trying to kill us.”
“He’s not taking turns.” Brek said. Groddil’s probably fighting him the infirmary as we speak.”
“My infirmary.” Germaine clarified. “He’d best not make a mess.”
Brek had the sinking feeling that a mess was inevitable. In fact Brockhall itself was a mess, with fighting going on, and the house itself killing creatures. Germaine walked over, sighing. “Well. I suppose Asher needs more eyes on him. Maybe he will be safer in this room, with us all out there.” 
She pulled the fox cub from the sling on Brek’s back, and he stood with a groan as the weight was lifted. He’d never known kits were so heavy… but then, this one wasn’t all that much smaller than Brek himself.
Germaine bustled over to a table, saying, “Amyl, grab those sheets in the corner, would you? We’ll make him a bed.”
Amyl hurried to obey, and Brek glanced around this room, noticing some dark forms laying in the corner opposite the one Amyl had gone to, their silver armor sparkling in the dim light. He swallowed. Bodies. How many had they lost in the battle that had surely followed Gingivere’s failure to win against his sister? How many still fought, what all had he missed? Brek wanted to kick this stupid mortal body of his. How could he be sleeping while so many of his fellow creatures struggled and died?
As Amyl and Germaine got Asher situated, Brek backed toward the door he had come through. He wasn’t really needed here anymore, after all.
And as ill-advised as it might be… he needed to get back to Gingivere. He had to make sure the prince was safe. He might not be Ferran’s target, but if he got in the way, and Groddil wasn’t fast enough… Brek swallowed as he walked from the room under the stairs and out into the cold light of the ballroom. The blue light of lamps reflected off the blue of the water on the ceiling, and it washed the pale marble of the room in the color. 
Brek couldn’t help but think how deceptively calming all of it was. It clashed severely with the injured laying all around, and the creatures rushing to help them. 
“Brek?”
He turned at Rose’s voice, to see her hurrying toward him. Her armor was stained, but they were smears, not splashes. She’d gotten those from helping creatures. She put her paws on her hips, and asked, “What are you doing out of bed; you collapsed!”
“I’m fine…” He began, but Rose dashed to him and hugged him, burying her face in his hair.
“You’re not.” She mumbled. “None of us are.”
Brek took a shuddering breath, then wrapped his arms around her leather-clad waist in turn. Because he got the feeling she wasn’t just hugging him for his sake, and maybe she needed it just as much.
“Are you alright?” Brek asked.
“No.” Rose whispered. “Not really.”
They stood like that for a moment, before Brek said, “I have to get back to Gingivere.”
Rose squeezed him tighter for a moment, before stepping back and rubbing the back of her paw across her eyes. “Right. Right. You should take the back way. It’s…”
She took a deep breath. “Safer.”
Brek nodded, and turned back to the double staircase. As he did, he was in time to see a flash of blue light, and hear the splintering of metal. Brek gaped as none other than Ferran himself flickered into existence on the landing at the top of the double staircases. 
The black fox skidded to a stop, back to the railing and an arm raised above his head, a green shield of power wrapping around him. 
Groddil dashed onto the landing next, and Brek could see his eyes glowing, even from here on the floor. 
Rose grabbed Brek’s arm with a gasp, mouth hanging open as she blurted, “Him! The black fox… how is he here?”
And how did he follow where Brek had taken Asher, for that matter? Brek reached for his sword hilt, but Rose gasped, “No! Brek, he’s too powerful!”
“I know.” Brek said, staring up at Ferran, a tremble in his voice. “I’ve faced him before.”
Though never in an all out battle. 
Rose stared down at him as he drew his sword, and she let her paw fall from his arm. He smiled weakly, saying, “I’m not the kit you once knew.”
With that, he ran toward the staircase that was the nearest.
><><
The first thing Sayna felt was the cold, when she slowly began to come back to consciousness. It gave her a sense that she was reliving something that had already happened. Right, this was how she’d felt when she’d first awoken after getting the Borialis.
Like she was freezing. It was terribly unpleasant. 
Sayna smacked her lips, shivered, and then slowly forced her eyes open. She lay flat on her back, in the bed she was accustomed to sleeping in.
Hadn’t she last been on the battlefield? Or no… she’d been riding with Torrin.
She carefully sat up, a great shiver wracking her body. It actually wasn’t so terrible as when she had first received the magic. Had she died again? Or had she only half-way died? Could one actually half-way die? Was that… possible?
Also, what had woken her?
Sayna looked to her door, and started horribly when she saw the body of a Greeney soldier slumped against it, and the door itself hung open.
What in all the realms…
She tried to scramble from bed, but failed and instead tripped and fell on her face with a clash. Because she was still wearing her armor, though the blood staining it had dried brown, and begun flaking off. Sayna groaned and pushed her upper body off the floor, a shudder wracking her again. Still, she had much more energy than the first time she did this, so Sayna got the feeling she hadn’t actually died.
Bootsteps sounded in the hallway, and Sayna tensed, fear flooding over her in a cold chill. She was weak, there was a dead soldier in the room… what else could go wrong? No. No, she didn’t want to know. 
She dragged herself a little behind the bed, looking around frantically. Her sword… where was her sword? She didn’t see it anywhere, so she drew one of the daggers from the belt at her waist and waited with bated breath. The running steps stopped in the doorway for a moment, and through the crack beneath the bed, Sayna saw black boots step over the soldier’s slumped corpse.
“Sayna?”
The relief was like a boot to the face. She felt like melting as she shakily said, “I’m here.”
She grabbed the edge of the bed, peering out at Torrin. Moment’s later she saw Tynek peek in through the doorway, before nodding and vanishing into the hall outside once more.
“What’s happening?” Sayna grunted as she used the bed to pull herself up, and sheathed her dagger.
“You may not want to put that away just yet.” Torrin said grimly, and Sayna noticed the axe he held at his side, one that dripped fresh blood. He glanced at the soldier in the doorway. “Sorry for throwing him into your door, that probably woke you up, didn’t it?”
Sayna stumbled around the bed, protesting, “Why would you let me sleep through a battle at all? We’re under attack? Aren’t we in Brockhall, or wait....”
She squinted at Torrin. “Am I dreaming?”
“Sadly no.” He sighed. 
That… was probably what a dream would say. Sayna smacked her gauntlet gently against the side of her face, and the sensation enforced the fact that she was indeed awake. “Ah. Great. Where is my sword?”
He pointed at the nightstand beside her bed with his axe, and sure enough, her sheathed blade lay there. Sayna stumbled to it, and buckled it on.
“Are you…” Torrin began, but Sayna glanced at him. 
“I’m fine, just… cold.” She paused, then asked, “Did I die again?”
He shook his head. “No, I don’t think so. At least, not while I was here. I tried to stay nearby as much as possible, but I did have to leave for awhile…”
He sounded almost guilty about that. Sayna shook her head, holding up a paw. “You don’t have to apologize, this is a war.”
She tried to take a confident stride toward him, but that was apparently too ambitious, as her knee buckled. Torrin reached out and steadied her, and Sayna sighed. She wasn’t even strong enough to walk right.
After a moment, Torrin pulled her into a quick hug. Sayna blinked, then asked, “What’s that for?”
“I’m glad you’re back.” He said simply, before asking, “Can you avoid being fatally wounded from now on?”
Sayna raised an eyebrow, before smirking as he stepped back. “No promises.”
There she went, being witty again. Or at the very least trying to be.
Apparently it worked too, because Torrin laughed the slightest bit as he rubbed the palm of one glove over his right eye. “I guess I’ll have to make every moment with you count then, won’t I?”
“Battle now.” Sayna said. “Flirting later. Come on.” 
She walked carefully to the door, but her strength seemed to be returning, at least in measures. Torrin followed, and as Sayna stepped into a corridor of death, all her good humor faded. Soldiers, both Greeneye and Mossflowerian, lay slumped on the floor and against the walls.
Down the hallway, she could see Tynek and some others near an intersection of the passageways. She looked to Torrin. “How many have we lost?”
“I honestly can’t say.” Torrin said, and grimly too. Any lightness in his tone had vanished.
“When did this attack start?”
He shook his head as they hurried towards Tynek and his soldiers. “About midday. The house has killed far more than we have, but since most of the otter civillains took shelter here…”
Torrin paused, and then said, “It’s been ugly. We moved the families as far from the main conflict as we could, but we weren’t fast enough to save them all.”
Sayna’s heart dropped to her stomach, though really, she wasn’t sure what she’d been expecting. She’d known when this battle began that there would be casualties. Terrible casualties.
Could she have stopped it somehow, did she make the wrong choice…
“Hey.” Torrin gripped her shoulder. “You’re blaming yourself, stop it.”
Sayna sighed and nodded, though in no way would it be that easy and she knew Torrin knew it too. But it wasn’t as though he didn’t have a point. She stopped walking, because they’d come upon Tynek and the soldiers here, and her brother turned to her. “I think we have driven them back from here.”
He paused, then said, “I want to check on Rose.”
Sayna felt a bit cold, and hurriedly asked, “Where is Rose?”
“The infirmary.” Torrin said. “Arrows are not much help in tight spaces like these, she’s aiding the wounded.”
“Let’s go.” Sayna said, and started in that direction. After all, she saw no soldiers in this hallway… well. None living, anyway. Plenty lay dead against the walls and on the floors, in fact she had to gingerly step over bodies with nearly every stride.
The smell was terrible, and blood mixed with the water on the walls. Sayna had to wonder if Brockhall would ever be clean again.
She didn’t really know how she was keeping her composure. Even after all the lives she had taken to blind Bloodwrath… were a few hours all that was worth? Had what she done meant nothing? In times like this, it could be truly hard not to feel like a monster.
As she neared the infirmary, it got worse, because the bodies of otters lay among the Greeneyes.
Sayna paused as she slipped on a thick puddle of blood, and in catching her balance, noticed a small kit and its mother lay near the wall… the mother curled around her little one, but neither had survived. 
Bitter tears rose at the backs of Sayna’s eyes, and she looked away, recalling Gruvan’s father’s scream of rage. About how he hoped Mossflower’s kits would die as his had. 
She set her face, and forced herself to keep moving, even if part of her just wanted to collapse and cry. 
There was no time. She was a queen.
Queens were not afforded the luxury of mourning.
There were more, otters not dressed in armor, just blood-stained fishscale tunics. Entire familes cut down, and for what? For what? Tsarmina? The spoilt little brat who thought this was a game?
Rage boiled in Sayna’s gut as she stalked through corridors painted red. And a scary part of her wished she had the cat queen at her mercy. The part of her that wanted to tear Tsarmina’s throat out with her bare paws, and paint her blood down her castle hallways. 
Because Bloodwrath wasn’t the only monster living in Sayna’s head.
This was not a game.
And without the fear clogging her sensations and waking thoughts… this fury felt so much more real. Sayna held in her growl. She was done playing.
Her steps had grown more aggressive, and she rounded the corner leading to the ballroom, to see Greeneye soldiers at the doors, trying to break in.
Some turned to face her, but she drew her sword as flames rushed down the blade, and she curled her lip. A part of her was horrified at how angry she was. And a far darker part of her loved it. 
“How much is enough for you?” Sayna yelled. She sliced off the first soldier’s head as he ran at her with a single swing, not even flinching as his body stumbled to the floor behind her, and his head rolled against her boot. Sayna kicked it into the ranks of Greeneyes, never stopping as she yelled again, “How many kits have you killed today? For what, your queen’s sick fancies?”
A group attacked her, but a single swing of the Queensword tore through their armor like the finest silk, and they fell, smoking as the stench of burning flesh flowed through the area.
Sayna just kept walking toward the doors and the soldiers backed away. She could hear the boots of her companions, but she heard no clash of swords, though she did not turn to look. “Well she can play her games, and I’ll play mine. How many heads shall I throw over her walls before she leaves us be? How many of you have to die for her?”
Murmurs rang out, and Sayna glared one way, then another. There might be over a hundred Greeneye’s here, but none rushed to attack her, and many glanced at the dead or dying soldiers with their melted armor.
Sayna snarled, voice surprisingly guttural, though it wasn’t Bloodwrath’s. It was her own. “Bend the knee or I’ll use your bodies as my message.”
Nearly half knelt then and there, with a clash of armor against stone.
The other’s hesitated, and Sayna wheeled on the one nearest to her, slashing her sword through his chest before he could even blink. “Too slow.”
She glared around as he pitched onto his face. “Anyone else?”
The rest knelt in seconds, and Sayna heard their whispers to one another of ‘golden demon’ and hisses of ‘unholy spawn’. But she didn’t even acknowledge it. A paw gripped her shoulder and she glanced at Tynek, a fellow recipient of this group’s fear. 
As this army bent the knee from pure terror, Sayna looked left and saw the weary force of otters who had been trying to push them back. 
Thuds rang out as Spring rode closer to Sayna on her white kelpie, as Tynek’s battalion surrounded the now trembling vermin army. The kelpie’s normally marble coat was streaked with red and brown, and Spring looked no better.
“Queen Sayna!” The otter princess said. “You’re awake!”
Awake, and ready to end this madness.
“What is our situation?” She asked, adding, “Princess.”
Spring shook her head. “The squirrels and Sandingomm’s recruits face the Greeneyes outside these halls. We have been trying to drive back the ones who breached those defences. What do you plan to do with this group?”
Sayna paused, then looked to the hallway where otter families and kits lay still and disfigured, torn apart by these particular soldiers. After a moment, she walked toward the great hall doors, bloody, once decorative half skirt flowing about her legs.
“You are welcome to them.”
 
She half expected the Greeneyes to try and defend themselves, but instead, a paw grabbed at her skirt. Sayna reacted by sheer instinct, slamming the pommel of her sword into the rat’s face. He doubled over, but looked up at her moments later, speaking through broken teeth. “Please… they’ll kill us!”
Sayna curled her lip. “Maybe because you’ve slain their kin, their kits not a week old. It’s all you deserve.”
These could not be trusted, they had surrendered from sheer terror. And honestly, what they’d done made Sayna feel legitimately sick. They had never heedlessly killed Greeneye towns, except for those that Amber had wiped out, and some that might have been caught in various fires.
“Mercy!” Another of the soldiers whimpered. “We only followed orders.”
Sayna turned on him, but she didn’t have to speak. Because Tynek did, from beside her.
“Ask the otters for mercy.” His teeth sounded clenched. “You have wronged them more than us.”
A collective groan came from the subdued army, and though they still likely had greater numbers, they did not rise to fight. Perhaps they realized what they had done. More likely they had been pushed too hard by their commanders and were already exhausted. Sayna had to wonder how long she’d been asleep.
She reached the doors of the great hall, and she did not have to knock. 
Sandingomm pulled one of the double doors open a bit, calling, “We got a problem!”
Sayna frowned, because even Sandingomm sounded strained, and she was the one who’d made jokes after Tsarmina had injured her in Kotir… and that had been a problem. 
“What is it?” Sayna asked tersely. 
Sandingomm jerked her head inwards at the great hall. “Come in.”
Sayna did so, Tynek and several others following her. This room was full of injured, and the smells were sickening, blood and herbs and death. Just a few weeks ago she’d danced with Torrin here, on the night of her coronation. It was hard to see it as the same place.
“What…” Sayna began, but a flash of light filled the area… sickly green light. 
She jerked her head up, looking at the top of the double staircase at the hall’s far end instead of the wounded laying around the room itself. For a second, Sayna stood frozen just inside the door, gaping up at the landing of the stairs, where Groddil fought the black shadow he never could seem to shake. Ferran.
He’d come back for that kit. 
Sayna’s immobility shattered as Ferran slammed Groddil against the rail of the balcony, a poison green sword forming in his paw.
She didn’t scream, she didn’t wail for him to stop. She just pushed fear to the forefront of her mind, and bolted for the stairs. 
But her run was sluggish, and Sayna felt sick. Bloodwrath. She didn’t have access to Bloodwrath anymore, she’d locked her away. A flash of orange fur made her look a little to the side of Ferran, where she saw Brek as he reached the top of the stairs and ran at the black fox.
This time, she did call out, in horror. “Brek!”
What was he doing?
Ferran leapt out of the way of Brek’s sword slash, and as Groddil staggered upright, Ferran grabbed Brek by the shirt. In nearly the same movement, he flung the far smaller mouse over the rail of the landing, out into empty space.
Something slammed into Sayna’s side with unnatural power, and she fell as silver flashed in her vision. Tynek bolted past her like a streak of light, each step leaving a crack splintering across the marble flooring. He leapt almost the height of the ornamental fountain at the base of the stairs, and caught Brek as he plowed into him.
The two flew back, and Tynek flipped around in midair, hitting the floor upright as he skidded and his boots left scrapes on the marble. Then he slid into a body on a pallet and tripped, falling on his back as Brek collapsed by his side.
Sayna scrambled to her knees as Torrin ran past her, sliding to a stop by Tynek.
“Hey! Focus, stay here!”
Tynek shook himself and sat up as Sayna got to her paws, and she saw how red his eyes were. He nodded as blood began dripping from his eyes like tears, and he grunted, “I am planning on it.”
Rose ran over and reached them nearly in the second Sayna did. She fell to her knees beside Brek, who was just beginning to sit up. Rose flung her arms around him with a tiny sob, and Sayna stopped nearby.
Brek slowly looked up at Tynek, and Sayna thought he looked confused. “You… saved me?”
Tynek gripped the paw Torrin held out, and blinked down at Brek as he staggered to his boots. He just nodded. 
Rose squeezed Brek tighter, whispering, “Ty… thank you.”
He smiled his little smile, and as Sayna’s rush of fear at seeing Brek thrown off a fourteen or so foot landing faded, she jerked her head up. Groddil and Ferran still fought, and a quick glance around showed Germaine running from the room under the stairs.
She slid to a stop near the fountain, staring up at the battle above. A little blue sparkled around her paws, but she didn’t seem keen to leap into the fight… something Sayna didn’t blame her for.
Sayna started for the left staircase, though she too, held back. She probably wouldn’t be any help if she joined the fray, and the last thing she wanted to do was distract Groddil. He looked hard pressed enough as it was.
Torrin joined her, and Tynek ran to the other set of stairs, but he seemed to have the same notion, since he didn’t run up them. 
Groddil blocked a thrust of a glowing green sword with a shield of magic, but the look of pain on his face made Sayna wince.
Ferran was the creature who’d caused him to lose his power in first place… fighting him of all Necromancers, must be the hardest. Groddil gritted his teeth, swinging his arm against Ferran’s sword as the green magic shattered. Ferran staggered back, and for a moment Sayna had hope that he would fall backwards down the stairs. He caught himself, of course. Why would he make anything easier?
Ferran’s eyes glowed pure green as he leapt into the air, floating as vile, viscous magic pulsated through the air around him. Groddil took a step back, eyes widening as Ferran spoke in a voice comprised of several. “Cruach dorcha.”
Sayna took a step up the stairs, because she knew the meaning of those words. 
The last time Ferran had spoken them…
Groddil thrust out a paw, shouting, “Ceangail!”
Sayna froze. Bind. Not shield; bind. Why that? Both attacks formed at the same time, for Ferran, a ring of swords, and for Groddil, a blue chain that snaked between Ferran’s legs, and through the balcony rail. As Ferran’s swords shot at Groddil, his chain spiraled up and spun around Ferran’s neck.
Sayna dashed forward the next second, up the stairs as fast as she could, but fast wasn’t fast enough.
The green crystal swords slammed into Groddil, throwing him back against the wall as two skewered through his waist, the other through one arm as the rest peppered the stone around him. But in the same action, his chain yanked taunt, pulling Ferran head-first off the landing.
From her vantage point, Sayna watched as Ferran plumited backwards off the stairs, and she heard the terrible, smashing thud as his back slammed directly onto the head of the fountain’s centerpiece, a stone rearing kelpie. He made a strangled noise as he hung there for a second, bent in half over the statue. Then with a cracking rumble, the entire form came loose off it’s base and pitched forward, throwing a limp Ferran to the floor like a wet rag. Both hit the marble with a crunching rumble and a cloud of dust, and the staircase shook.
But Sayna didn’t wait for the dust to clear, didn’t care to see Ferran’s fate anymore after that. His back had to be broken.
Instead, she ran for Groddil, still speared against the wall. 
“Groddil!” Sayna actually screamed his name, voice sheering in her throat. 
No… no, why wasn’t she faster, why hadn’t she done something?
His head slumped against his chest, graying, once-black hair falling in his face. Sayna stumbled up the stairs, sword leaving seared marks on the marble everytime she caught herself with that paw. She reached the top of the stairs just as the green swords impaling him vaporized, their forms collapsing to the ground in puddles of black, fospheresnt flecked goo.
Groddil fell to his knees and Sayna dropped her sword as she lunged for him, catching him as he pitched forward. 
Liquid poured over her gauntlets, soaking through their joints and to her paws. Ferran’s swords might be gone, but the holes they left were anything but.
“Groddil!” Sayna gasped, tears blurring her vision. “Please, you can’t…”
But her words caught in her throat because she knew he could, and would, without a doubt. 
His voice bubbled like hers had while she’d been impaled. “It’s fine… lass.”
He slumped fully against her. “I knew… when I did this…”
“No I…” Sayna choked a little on her tears. “I’m not ready!”
“You are what I hoped.” Groddil managed to look up at her, and smile despite the blood soaking his chin. “You are… a queen.”
He sagged against her then, and Sayna buried her face in his curly hair and wept, falling to her knees. “I didn’t want this! I should’ve… I didn’t… you’re my first real friend, the first one who ever believed in me, please!”
But he did not answer, and Sayna whispered, “Please don’t die.”
She held him there for a moment, and her mind raced through options, and regrets. What could she have done differently? How could she have stopped this? 
Her hair.
It had healed Torrin’s leg, right? So could it… Sayna snapped her eyes open, and was in time to see blue swirling around Groddil’s still form. For a second she had the wild idea he was still using magic, trying to heal himself, but then he was pulled from her arms.
Sayna blinked for a moment as Groddil levitated over the stair’s banister and vanished from her sight. She scrambled up and ran to the railing, where she saw Germaine standing among the shattered remains of the fountain, blue-coated paws outstretched. She gently lowered Groddil to the floor near the staircase itself, the only piece of the ground not covered in shattered marble. Then she knelt beside him, snapping orders at her daughter, standing nearby.
Sayna bolted down the stairs, rushing past Torrin, who was most of the way to the top. As she ran, Sayna noted the dust-coated, dark heap of Ferran amidst the ruined fountain, and the water that spread across the marble in glowing rivulets from it’s cracked sides. When she was about six feet from the ground she grabbed the rail and vaulted over it, landing with a clash.
She stumbled to the opposite side of Groddil from Germaine, dropping to her knees and grabbing his limp paw. There was blood everywhere, so much Sayna couldn’t even rightly make out Groddil’s wounds. 
“Please…” She looked at Germaine, who held her paws inches from Groddil’s torso, blue sparkling over both.
“Don’t interrupt me.” Germaine snapped.
She looked over her shoulder, calling. “Ayml!”
Pattering paws filled the room, and Ayml came scrambling over the fountain’s rubble. She held a small, engraved silver box in her paws, which she opened as she knelt at her mother’s side. 
Sayna shivered as blue light streamed from the little trunk, brightening the surroundings considerably. And cold spread through Sayna’s chest like a spire of ice had shot through her heart, though oddly, it didn’t hurt. The tears that dripped down her cheeks were more of wonder, and at the sheer beauty of what lay in that trinket box, than anything else. 
Germaine kept one paw over Groddil’s injured torso, though what she was doing seemed to hold in most of the blood. With the other, she lifted the glimmering crystalline flower from the box.
Sayna could do nothing but stare, and her breath caught in her throat, but she found that she didn’t really need it.
The flower, if it could be called such, seemed to Sayna like a perfect snowflake carved from diamond. It grew from a clump of quartz-shaped crystal on a slender, glassy stem, and the entire thing glowed with pulsating light.
“Amyl, a bowl and water.” Germaine said, sternly.
Sayna drew in a shuddering breath as Amyl hurried to obey. Each second felt like an eternity, and though she heard creatures moving around her, Sayna couldn’t take her eyes off the crystal flower Germaine held. A Borealis, it had to be. They were so much more beautiful in reality than any drawing in any book she had read. 
Amyl came hurrying back, and as she set the bowl at her mother’s side, Germaine levitated the flower above her paw. Then she made a fist, and glowing cracks formed over the Borealis’s crystaline surface. 
With the tinkle of breaking glass, the flower shattered, showering into the bowl. Germaine stirred it for a moment, before lifting a gleaming paw from the mixture and smearing it across the stab wounds puncturing Groddil’s torso.
Sayna shook herself, still feeling dazed, and looked to Groddil’s face. His eyes were closed, and his chest barely rose and fell.
She closed her eyes, and silently prayed, silently begged, that he wouldn’t die. 
If Groddil was given the choice as she had been… would he come back? Or would he enter Ignasa’s land, and leave the white door of thorns unopened. Even she had considered it.
Arms wrapped around her shoulders, and Sayna didn’t have to open her eyes to know it was Torrin. She reached up with her free paw and grabbed one of his, which he firmly squeezed back.
After a moment she did blink open her eyes, blurry vision so full of tears she might as well have not bothered. Torrin hugged her a little tighter and she didn’t protest. In fact, she slumped against him, burying her face against his shoulder as Germaine worked. He didn’t say anything, because what was there to say? There were no assurances that could be made, simply the hope for a miracle. 
Minutes passed, and finally Germaine said, “I can do nothing more now.”
Sayna blinked hard, rubbing her teary eyes on the bare fur of her arm, below her chainmaille and above her gauntlet. She blinked hard and her vision cleared as she saw Germaine sat a half-full bowl of gleaming water to the side.
Sayna took a shivering breath, and asked, “You… didn’t use all of it?”
“Well, last time I did this was for you, my queen.” Germaine brushed some of Groddil’s hair from his face. “And we know I used too much. Perhaps half a flower is a better dosage.”
All Sayna could do was weakly nod and look closer at Groddil’s wounds. They… were in the act of sewing themselves shut, new flesh and fur growing as she watched. Then each point where a sword had struck, Groddil’s arm and the two in his torso, began to glow.
Torrin tightened his hug, whispering, “It’s like what happened to you.”
It… was? But Sayna felt her mouth drop slowly open as she fully realized she was witnessing this experience from the outside. The light spread throughout Groddil’s fur, sweeping over his entire body. It all eventually flowed up his face, and into his hair.
And his hair grew.
It spiraled around his still form in gleaming ringlets of blinding blue, snaking across the floor like creeping vines. And as the light faded from hair Sayna knew must be at least the height of Groddil himself, she saw it was pure, untouched ebony. Not a strand of gray remained.
The light faded, leaving Groddil whole, though he did not open his eyes. But his breathing evened out, and he’d changed. His ever lightening fur had darkened, like Sayna remembered it back when she still wore the name Salley and lived in Evenglade. Back when she’d first met him, so long ago.
Sayna looked down at his limp paw, which she still held. She let go of Torrin and with slightly shaky paws, she undid the lacing of Groddil’s leather bracer.
She slipped it off, and stared at the unblemished arm. No burn scars ravished the wrist or forearm, and the paw did not flop useless on long-torn tendons. Instead it was whole and perfect, and Sayna gently laid Groddil’s arm by his side. Yes, she could see reality, but still, it managed to seem unreal.
And he still breathed. His chest moved in a peaceful rhythm, he simply made no move to wake.
Germaine picked up a strand of his curly hair. “Blast. I did it again, didn’t I?”
Sayna shook her head wordlessly, then on impulse, lunged from Torrin’s arms and across Groddil’s body, and hugged the mouse. “You saved him… I…”
She didn’t even know what to say. “Thank you.”
After a moment, Germaine patted her back. “Well it’s quite alright dear. No need to thank me for doing my job.”
Sayna let go of Germaine after a moment, and leaned against Torrin again as she pulled back. She actually bothered to look around then, and noticed Tynek, Rose, and Brek had gathered around, as well as Gina and Sandingomm. Though oddly, Sayna didn’t see Luna.
A quick check of the room proved she stood near one of the sets of doors… probably a wise idea.
Rose cleared her throat. “Uh… should we use the rest on our worst wounded?”
She was staring at Groddil with wide eyes even as she said it, like she couldn’t grasp any of this.
“We may need it later.” Germaine shook her head. “I seem to have gotten the dosage wrong yet again, but I can’t honestly imagine treating more than four or five with what’s left in this bowl. The ugly truth is that while I would love to save all our wounded, I must prioritize.”
She looked at the bowl by her side, blue light reflecting off her glasses. “In war, it is my duty to save those able to carry the fight in the most impactful ways.”
“That’s not fair!” Rose protested. “We have a magical liquid able to cure any wound… and…”
 
Rose trailed off, taking a deep breath, looking visibly frustrated. Sayna understood both sides, but as she looked to Germaine, the mouse healer sighed, standing. “I am sorry milady. But truly, life is never fair.”
Rose bit her lip, then lunged for the bowl. For a second, Sayna though her sister was going to do something stupid, but Rose simply dipped two claws in the glowing water.
Germaine opened her mouth, but as Rose straightened up she turned to Tynek beside her, and she grabbed his twisted right arm. She smeared the phosphorescent water into his fur, along his arm, and he shuddered from ears to tail tip.
Sayna looked to Tynek’s hair, holding her breath, and getting the mental image of him with hair as long as hers.
He met her gaze, and instantly clapped his paws to the sides of his head, feeling for the hair he kept trimmed.
Both paws.
The lame one too.
It seemed that the whole room froze, as Tynek slowly lowered his right arm and stared at it. He made a fist, and his gauntlet fully closed. His mouth dropped open.
Tynek slipped his gauntlet from his paw and let it fall to the floor. Then he reached over and tugged loose the bandages always hiding his right limb. As they fell away, Sayna gasped, and heard Rose do the same. 
For the fur had grown back where there once was mere sinewy skin, and the attrifying that made his right arm thinner was gone, leaving it just as strong as his left.
Tynek grabbed his sleeve and yanked it up, staring at his right shoulder, and Sayna knew what he expected to see. What she expected, what anyone who knew him well would. Sildrin’s brand, seared through his fur and flesh, marking him forever.
But the fur of his shoulder was intact, as everywhere else.
He slowly let his sleeve fall into place, and when he looked up, Sayna started to see tears glistening in his eyes… real tears, not the crimson ones of Bloodwrath. 
His voice shook the slightest bit as he whispered, fear lacing his tone. “What… is it doing to me?”
Germaine took a slow step back, away from them all. And Sayna just stared at the bowl of water. That was just enough to cover two of Rose’s claws, and it had fully healed an injury over six years old. 
She raised a paw to her chest. What… did that mean for her, if she’d been given an entire flower?
Torrin summed up what they were probably all thinking. “Wow.”
Germaine slowly turned to her, paw over her mouth, and then she looked down at Groddil. Rose dipped a single claw in the water this time, and ran over to the nearest injured creature, an otter with a leg bound in a cast. Rose swiped the liquid on the part of their leg above the bandage, as the creature watched her with interest. After a moment, Rose undid the wrapping, then helped the otter to their paws. The creature stood without hesitation, then took several sure steps.
“Ignasa help us…” Germaine murmured. 
Sayna slowly stood, and Torrin did too. Germaine grabbed a glass vial from her apron pocket, and dipped it into the glowing Borealis water, filling it to the brim. Then she dashed for a patient laying flat on his back, bloody bandages around his chest. Sayna took a few steps closer as Germaine undid the dressings to reveal terrible, hastily sewn gashes. She tipped the vial carefully, letting a single glowing drop fall into one of the wounds. Seconds later, they knit themselves closed, and the otter’s weak breath strengthened. 
Germaine looked at the glowing vial in her paw for a mere second, before scrambling up and running for the next patient. 
Amyl dipped a vial from the bowl and gave it to Rose, before filling another for herself as Rose ran to help wounded on the opposite side of the room from Germaine. As soon as hers was full, Amyl hurried to the center of the great hall.
Sayna slowly picked up the bowl of blue water, and gingerly set it on the wide rim of the fountain, the part that was still solid and intact. Ignasa forbid someone kick it, the liquid inside just might be the key to saving Mossflower. She turned to see Tynek still flexing his now mobile arm, and Torrin was just staring at her. 
“What?” She asked. 
“You really are magical.” He said.
Sayna rolled her eyes. “We knew that.”
Then she realized that might come off as cocky. “And I don’t mean that in a proud way… ack. You know what I’m saying. Now that the situation here has…”
She took a deep breath. “Stabilized, should we check the state of affairs outside?”
Torrin was nodding, and as Sayna turned to see what Tynek’s opinion was, the slam of a door made her jump. She wheeled around, reaching for her sword, only to come up empty… she’d left it at the top of the stairs, hadn’t she…
“Here.”
Torrin picked it off the ground near where they’d been sitting. “I figured you’d want it.”
Sayna took it with a quick nod; there wasn’t time for anything else. Then she ran for the door, where Luna and Sandingomm had already gathered. She could hear the two sets of boots following her, and knew Torrin and Tynek would be on her tail. 
As she neared, Sayna saw the source of the slamming door, a familiar silver squirrel leaning against the frame and gripping the wood with bloody gloves. Blood soaked her cropped silver hair, and Sayna was sure she could see a gash on the squirrel’s scalp, where a jagged clump of hair was completely gone.
Her legs buckled and Sandingomm caught her. Sandingomm pulled her inside as Sayna looked out into the gore-painted hallway, but saw no pursuers.
“Embrien, what is it? What’s goin’ on?” Sandingomm pressed a paw to the squirrel’s head wound as she spoke.
“They’re… attacking Hran-Forias…” The squirrel groaned, closing green eyes. “Brockhall has killed too many of them… they can no longer justify the cost.”
Sayna felt her eyes widen. The Greeneyes must have lost vast numbers here, if that was the case.
Embrien coughed. “Birch has gone to save the queen.”
Sandingomm looked over her shoulder, calling, “Anybody got a drop a that magic stuff? Cause it’d be appreciated over here.”
Rose hurried over, smearing the smallest amount of Borealis water on the silver squirrel's head wound. Embrien shivered from ears to fluffy tail-tip, and after a moment opened brightening eyes. “What…”
She stammered over her words, and Sayna watched the bleeding gash on the side of the squirrel’s head sew closed. After a moment, Embrien stood upright, blinking. Then she shook herself, and looked around. “Hran-Forias is under attack, the Greeneye’s march there as we speak.”
“Ya said that.” Sandingomm informed, and Embrien shook herself, still looking a little dazed. 
Sayna laid a paw on her sword hilt as Tynek asked, “We should go to their aid… yes?”
Torrin spoke from her other side. “We should call a meeting to take stock of our army and situation; I’m not even sure where Indigo went. We must regroup.”
Sayna nodded, because he had a good point. “So be it.”
== Chapter 60 Unbroken==
It took some time to locate Indigo, precious time they didn’t have. But in it, Sayna witnessed most of the wounded or dying in Brockhall’s great hall revived, saw them climb to their paws and shake themselves in wonder. 
She smiled as she saw some reuniting with hugs, or claps on the back. 
The dead stayed dead, unfortunately. But even at that, Mossflower reclaimed at least a hundred and fifty, in those moments. And Sayna felt her chest swell with a little more hope.
Even if it felt like an eternity, Indigo and several other rabbits hurried into the hall just outside the ballroom only ten or so minutes after Torrin sent a guard to fetch her. Sandingomm joined them, as did Rose, and to Sayna’s honest surprise, Brek did too. She found it odd he hadn’t run back to his prince.
She cocked her head as they gathered beyond their door in the blood smeared hallway, but it was as good a place as any. “Brek, aren’t you going back to Gingivere?”
Brek glanced up at Sandingomm, then said, “Gingivere is resting, and safe for now.”
He took a deep breath. “I will stay with my queen.”
Sayna just slowly nodded as the silver squirrel, Embrien joined their group. After a moment, Torrin said, “The squirrels are under attack, if you hadn’t yet heard.”
Embrien nodded. “Our cities are wooden, in the tree tops.”
She looked around. “I don’t think it’s too much of a stretch to guess what they’ll try.”
Sayna’s stomach flopped to her boots as Tynek said flatly. “Fire.”
Not more fire! Sayna’s mind wailed it as she closed her eyes. Torrin grabbed her paw, something she squeezed back. He knew. He just instantly knew what bothered her, and he didn’t even have to say anything… it was a nice feeling, to mask the fear.
Though somehow this fear felt… empty? It was hard to describe, but all Sayna could think of it was as lesser. At very least, nothing like the fear that possessed her mind in Bloodwrath.
“Exactly.” Embrien said, grimmly. 
Rose fiddled her paws. “Can’t Argulor take control of it?”
Embrien bit her lip. “He might have to.”
Sayna took a deep breath, the first in a while. Argulor seemed to have less strict control of larger fires, at least from her previous experiences. In fact for the one on the plains, he’d had to disengage from it to keep it from burning her and Torrin alive. 
So what would happen if he joined a fire in the bone-dry woodlands, their floor coated in fall’s crisp leaves? 
It wasn’t a pretty thought, and from the look on Embrien’s face, she was thinking the same thing. Unleashing Argulor would either save them all or kill them all. A desperate part of Sayna, a dark, defiant piece of her, whispered that if that was so, at least Tsarmina would go down with them.
Except she wouldn’t. 
“I have one hundred left.” Indigo was saying. “How many marched for Hran-Forias?”
Embrein shook her head. “Probably twenty thousand.”
“Thirty thousand.” One of the rabbits who’d come with Indigo argued. “At least from what I saw.”
Sayna swallowed. Tsarmina wouldn’t go down with them, if Argulor consumed the woodlands. She would sit safe in her castle across the river, and once they were all burnt away, she’d continue her filthy existence. 
“That foul cat!” Sayna spat on the ground. “She sends her soldiers against us while she primps in her stone towers, the coward. How many of hers have we slain? Yet she never says enough!”
 
Tynek looked to her, and flatly said, “We could attack her.”
There was silence, and Tynek looked around. “What? We have few, and most of Tsarmina’s are attacking the squirrels.”
He didn’t quite meet Embrien’s gaze. “I am not sure how much we could help you.”
Embrien didn’t look offended. Instead, she started nodding, and muttering to herself, fiddling with her claws like she was calculating something.
“Abandon the squirrels?” Rose asked, worriedly. 
Sayna shook her head. “It’s not abandoning them if we could do more for the entire union of Mossflower this way. If we have only a hundred we’ll be little more than a mild annoyance to thirty thousand.”
 
Especially now that I can’t Bloodwrath. She thought, but kept that one to herself.
“Twenty thousand.” Embrien said. 
Sayna looked at her, asking, “What?”
“With the soldiers we killed at the Moss, the ones Sayna got in Bloodwrath, and those that defected, Tsarmina’s lost twenty thousand. Maybe more. And we just don’t know how many Brockhall killed.” Embrien said, while looking around.
Indigo stepped forward before Sayna could ask Embrien’s point. “And so if you believe twenty or more march on Hran-forias, and according to Whegg at least nine thousand died from distemper… there can only be a few thousand guarding her castle.”
Sayna’s ears pricked up. She’d not been able to follow the calculating… she’d always been poor with figures… but once Indigo said it, it made sense. 
Sayna leaned forward, saying, “So there’s a chance!”
And here she’d thought she was proposing a suicide mission; albiet death seemed quite likely whatever dirrection they went.
Torrin spoke slowly. “It will be a hard fought battle, I’m sure she’s kept her best soldiers around her. She’s selfish like that.”
Still, he was nodding, and a small smile was growing on his face. “I like this plan.”
Embrien straightened up. “Argulor and Bella will likely be the most help against fire.”
Tynek crossed his arms, then blinked down at them in surprise. Sayna did too. He’d never been able to do that before. After a moment, he said, “If we bring back the head of their queen, perhaps they will stop.”
“Ty!” Rose looked aghast. But after a second, she sighed. “But then… she does need to be stopped. And I just don’t see her stopping on her own.”
Tynek just nodded. In fact there were nods all around, and Sayna joined in.
Sandingomm put her paws on her hips. “I kicked her tail the first time, an’ I’m ready fer a second round.”
Sayna wasn’t sure about the first half of Sandingomm’s sentence; she’d received plenty of injury herself. But she didn’t doubt the last bit. She looked around, asking, “To Theas-Lidir?”
A chorus of ‘Ayes’ and ‘down with the cat queen’ rang out, and Embrien nodded. “Ignasa guide you. I will gather Bella and Argulor in defence of the squirrels.”
She bowed once, then bolted down the hallway, weaving between and leaping over corpses with ease. Sayna turned to Indigo, opening her mouth to ask how long it would take to rally their forces, but the sound of pattering paws made her look toward the half-open door to the ballroom.
Germaine’s daughter stood there, paws clasped before her.
Brek took a step toward her, asking, “Amyl?”
“Um… I… I’m scared.” She stepped closer and grabbed Brek’s arm. 
Sayna looked into the ballroom, but saw only the healed creatures of Mossflower, Germaine working over the few still lying injured. Brek looked confused. “Why? Everything’s alright now… well… in here. Sort of.”
Amyl shook her head. “The Borealis water. It’s not where I left it.”
“Oh, I set it on that stone shelf edge of the fountain.” Sayna assured. “I didn’t want it knocked over.”
“No.” Amyl shook her head harder. “I can find the bowl. It’s just not where I left it, or on the fountain. It’s on the floor. And most of its gone, and I don’t… I don’t know why. I’m scared. I don’t want to tell mom.”
Sayna frowned, and stared at Amyl as she heard Tynek telling Indigo to assemble their army outside. 
Rose looked worriedly inside, as she asked, “Could Germaine just have taken the rest?”
“I… didn’t see her go back there.” Amyl clung to Brek’s arm a little tighter, and looked up at Sayna. “I didn’t look; I was too scared but… the Necromancer.”
Sayna froze. Then she wheeled around and bolted into the ballroom. She wove through the recovered Mossflowerians, most far taller otters. She ducked beneath arms and dodged past creatures until she slid to a stop near the crumbled fountain. 
The damage wasn’t on this side, but the side that faced the stairs. Sayna began stalking around the stone centerpiece, drawing her sword as she tread over rubble and stepped over chunks of shattered marble. Surely Ferran was dead. He’d looked mostly buried in rubble, his dark fur lightened by dust, his body limp and motionless. She could only recall that terrible, cracking snap as he smashed back-first into the fountain’s rearing stone kelpie. 
But this was Ferran.
And when Sayna crept around the fountain’s side, no limp body lay among the smashed statue. 
In fact, drag marks smeared in dust and blood marked the cracked marble of the floor. And they led to a wooden bowl with a bit of glowing liquid left in the bottom. 
Running pawsteps made her look sharply behind herself, only to see Torrin approached. When he saw the smeared blood through the dust and the bowl, his face fell and he stiffened. “We should have driven a sword through his heart.”
Sayna closed her eyes for a moment, wishing to everything that they had.
She scrambled fearfully to Groddil’s side, but praise Ignasa, he still slept peacefully, and nothing seemed to have been done to him.
The others were crowding around now, including Brek and Amyl. She still stuck to Brek like glue. Germaine ran up, asking, “What is going on?”
Before any could answer, she looked to where Ferran had laid, then the near empty bowl of flower-water. She gasped and rushed to it, picking it up as rage filled her eyes. “May Ignasa condemn him to Hellgates! An especially hot part.”
But Brek wasn’t looking at her. Sayna noticed he stared at Groddil, and then in a sudden movement, he pulled away from Amyl and dashed for the room beneath the stairs.
“Brek!” Sayna blurted, and gave chase, envisioning how Ferran had so callously tossed Brek off a near twenty foot staircase.
And now he would be even more powerful than before, since he had to be at least slightly immortal. That was a terrifying thought.
Sayna rushed through the door, and found Brek standing in the dimness, before a table with rumpled blankets atop it. He slowly turned to Sayna as she came in, and softly said, “He’s gone.”
“Good.” Sayna sighed. “Now that he’s semi-immortal, I don’t know if any of us could lay a claw on Ferran.”
Brek shook his head. “No, not Ferran. His kit.”
He seemed dazed. “I mean… Ferran’s gone too… he took the kit.”
Sayna felt her eyes stretch open, and her breath catch in her throat. The kit, Asher, the infant Groddil loved so much. The one he always carried about and rocked and talked to. His son, but Ferran’s blood. 
Of course that was why Ferran was here to begin with. Sayna clenched her paws, looking away.
Idiot, idiot, you stupid idiot! Why didn’t I kill him?
She should have checked, should have made sure the world was ridded of his foul existence. 
“We have to stop him!” Brek turned to her. “I failed, Groddil told me to keep the kit away from Ferran and I failed, I have to fix this!”
He tried to dash past her, but Sayna lunged and caught his arm. “Brek, this isn’t your fault.”
“I don’t care!” Tears filled her brother’s eyes. “And I’ll never believe that until I solve…”
“Brek we can’t!” Sayna snapped, wishing she was wrong, but knowing she was right. “We can’t, do we even have an idea of where he went? And what would we do if we caught him?”
Brek’s lip trembled. “I’d…”
“He threw you off a staircase!” Sayna protested, doubting that image would leave her nightmares for years. 
She drew in a breath. “All I have is a magic sword. Hran-Forias is under attack and we have one shot… one chance to stop this.”
Her own words burned in the back of her throat like bile, and she hated herself for them. She should be loyal to Groddil, the creature who’d been by her side for years. 
The crown on her head felt heavier than it ever had before. 
Brek stared up at her and she stared back, knowing she was betraying her oldest friend.
“I am their queen.” She said, voice cracking. “I swore to protect them. I hate this more than anyone, but I must first fight for Mossflower.”
This was why she had never wanted to be queen in the first place. These bitter choices, choosing country above friends and duty above desire. She’d known that moment she let them set this crown on her head that her freedom was forever stripped from her, and her paws would be bound by golden chains.
Brek slowly pulled away, and she let him. She sheathed her sword as her wrapped his paws about himself and closed his eyes as he said, “And I must first fight for Sandingomm.”
Germaine rushed in then, and stared at the pile of empty blankets that apparently had held Asher. She sucked in a breath, then closed her eyes for a few moments. When she opened them, a dullness settled in her gaze. “I cannot feel Ferran, but that is not saying much.”
Brek’s ears shot open, and he too closed his eyes for a minute. When he opened them, Sayna thought he looked confused. “I… can’t feel him either.”
He looked down at his paws, whispering, “Can I not do magic anymore?”
Germaine opened her mouth, but before she could respond, Brek looked at her and shook his head. “But I can feel you.”
Sayna looked from one to the other, then asked, “Could that have to do with the Borealis he drank?”
The two met her gaze slowly, and Sayna shrugged. “I don’t know everything about magic, but surely that would have some effect. Right?”
Germaine nodded. “No, no. It would. I should have thought of that.”
Brek’s paws slowly fell to his sides. “So there’s no way to track him?”
Germaine tapped a claw to her chin. “Ask Luna. She’s the best of us with spiritual energy.”
Brek nodded, and bolted from the room. Sayna slowly turned, seeing Tynek, Torrin, and Rose standing in the doorway. Germaine slowly walked past them into the main ballroom, fiddling with something in her apron-pocket, her head down. And as she walked, she muttered beneath her breath.
Sayna swallowed so hard it hurt, as Torrin slipped through the doorway. He walked to her, and after a moment, took her paw. “We heard.”
“Ferran’s a monster.” Rose snapped. “Taking an innocent kit… I don’t care if he made it!”
She huffed. “It’s not like he knows a thing about raising the little one.”
Sayna clenched the paw Torrin held, hanging her head. “Groddil told me to keep trying when everyone else told me to stop. Asher is his kit, I don’t care about his heritage, and he’s been taken. I should do something, but…”
The marble flooring wavered as her vision blurred. She lifted her head, tears hanging on her lashes, ready to fall. “But I can’t, can I?”
“This is our only chance to attack Tsarmina.” Tynek said bluntly. “While her soldiers are not with her.”
Rose looked at him. “This is a kit, Ty!”
Tynek shrugged. “I am sorry. I am only pointing out facts.”
Rose sighed, and looked down. After a moment she murmured, “Sorry. I know. I just… it’s all so wrong.”
Sayna closed her eyes with a shaking breath. Yes. It was all so wrong. Every bit of it. Torrin pulled her into a hug and she let him, as tears finally dripped from her clenched eyes. Groddil should hate her forever, for the terrible choice she was doomed to make.
After a moment she mumbled, “We have to go to Theas-Lidir. I know we must, I know… and yet…”
She looked over Torrin’s arm, through the door, to where Groddil lay unconscious beside the stairs. When he woke, Ferran would be long gone, and Asher too. And there would be no one to blame but her.
“Hey.” Torrin said, hugging her a little tighter before letting her go. “Do you want to pray about it?”
Sayna blinked, and then looked up at him. “What?”
Torrin shrugged. “It helps me. And uh… I’m plenty nervous anyway. So it might help in general.”
Sayna sniffed, and rubbed her face on her arm as best she could. She looked to Rose, to see her sister was nodding. Tynek slowly stepped closer, and laid his newly healed right paw on Sayna’s shoulder, nodding to Torrin. “I think I would like that.”
Rose slipped to Tynek’s side and wrapped an arm around him, and for a moment they all stood like that in silence. 
Sayna didn’t know what to pray, or if she even should. She’d never been much good at it. Even after seeing Ignasa with her own eyes, after feeling him lift her from the ground with his own paws, after binding her curse with his aid, it still felt awkward to talk to someone she couldn’t see before her. Especially in front of others. 
And yet why should it? What was she afraid of? What did she have to hide?
Nothing. 
She had nothing to hide, and in speaking to the one who had saved her from herself, there lay no shame.
Sayna grabbed Torrin’s paw, and kept her eyes closed, though she lifted her chin. “Ignasa, Lord of all things and our light in the darkness…”
It felt like the others stared at her, but the tiniest peek showed they did not. Their eyes were closed too. Sayna shut hers again. “You know what has been done, and the choice we now face.”
Fate is the name mortals give the paths they take.
Sayna could recall those words as clear as day. “I know what was written, and I know the oaths I have taken. I know what path I must walk. I beg you to give me the peace to walk it, as you once walked in this darkness like us. And forgive me, I plead, for what I must choose to do.”
She hung her head, and after a moment, Tynek softly said, “You know I am not good with words. But what Sayna has said, I say also.”
“Do not abandon us here.” Rose’s voice trembled. “We need you now more than ever to strengthen us, and to light the road we should follow.”
A little more silence passed, before Torrin said, “Show us your will. And if it is your plan, let us be victorious.”
For Mossflower. For the creatures she’d claimed as her own and the crown she had taken. Sayna took a shivering breath, and opened her eyes. The other three did as well, and after a moment, Sayna asked, “To… Theas-Lidir?”
There was a pause, and then Tynek nodded, then Torrin, and finally Rose. 
The soft chorus of voices confirmed what Sayna knew to be right, a feeling of strange peace in the choice.
“To Theas-Lidir.”
Did they feel it too? Did they know that peace that somehow ached as badly as indecision, but differently? Like a terrible weight was lifted, leaving muscles and bones still sore. Relief, and pain all at once.
She shook herself, and then walked for the door, releasing Torrin’s paw. “Come. This day will not wait for us.”
No one argued. As she passed Groddil’s still form, Sayna couldn’t look directly at him. 
I’m sorry.
But sorry was not good enough. And it would never be. Yet she knew this decision could only be right.
She’d made promises. And come death or life, failure or victory, she had to attempt to keep them. Sayna strode from one of the sets of ballroom doors, out into a hallway painted in the blood of creatures who shouldn’t have had to die.
Enough was enough.
Now Tsarmina had turned this rage against the squirrels, and all of Mossflower might burn for it. Sayna found her bubbling anger against Tsarmina… strange. The cat queen had never wronged her, not directly, at least, not enough to warrant this hatred. No, it was these corridors that solidified this fury. These corridors scattered with soldier and civilian, Greeneyes and Mossflowerian alike. How many more did that selfish brat plan to sacrifice?
“Milady! Milord!”
Sayna paused at the call, and turned. One of the otters who’d been healed stood in the doorway of the ballroom, harpoon in paw. He stepped toward them. “Let me come with you.”
A chorus of ‘Ayes!’ and ‘Me as well!” rang out, and Sayna blinked as otters crowded in the doorway. She could see where some of them had already been wounded, slashes in torsos and blood staining arms or legs. Yet thanks to the power of Ignasa they stood, ready to fight again.
Tynek looked at them. “Do you not want to find Spring?”
Sayna slowly nodded. Shouldn’t they be hurrying back to the army of their court?
But the one who’d first spoken shook his head. “I want to put a stop to this. I’ve basically died once, and if I’m going to die again it better be to actually save us.”
Sayna knew how that felt. She nodded, and turned down the hallway again, walking forwards. She kept her eyes fixed ahead, and not on the gore-smeared walls around her. Every unarmored, helpless corpse she saw made her face grow hotter and her breath come faster. Tsarmina would die. 
And something in Sayna wanted to be the one to land the blow. 
So many others deserved it more. Like Torrin, enslaved for years and stripped of his former life. Or Tynek, so crippled by a lifetime of abuse at Greeneye orders he’d only just begun to be able to communicate. Even Rose, who’d been branded and beaten, though Sayna doubted her sister would want the task. 
But the otters should have a chance, for their many dead. Spring for her father, Gingivere for the fact Tsarmina had actively tried to kill him.
And yet, Sayna wanted to end this cat queen. The worst Tsarmina had ever done to her was rip open her face, so small compared to her other deeds. But for all these creatures, kits torn from families and parents from kits, for no other reason than pride.
She strode purposely from the kitchen, and into a Mossflower woods stained crimson in the afternoon sun. Sayna sucked a sharp breath through her teeth.
For some reason, she thought it would be better out here, but she’d been wrong. It was just as bad, though the dead Mossflowerians here were mice and squirrels, with far fewer otters. And Sayna supposed it was better, in a demented way, because she saw no more slain kits. 
Sayna caught sight of Indigo instantly, standing a short distance from the door of the scullery among a blood splattered and weary group of mice. And there were so very few of them from the last time Sayna had seen her army.
She blinked as Rose rushed past her, bolting to Indigo’s side. “Do we have injured?”
Indigo shook her head. “Milady, I could not say. The battle raged all over Brockhall’s garden and the surrounding woodlands, and if they couldn’t walk…”
Rose said no more, just rushed for the wood and dirt stairs leading up to the garden above Brockhall. Clopping hooves rang out, and Sayna turned her head as white feathers flashed in her vision and Luna chased after Rose, though apparently not to stop her. And Sayna could see the gleam of blue light clasped in her sister’s paw. One of the vials of Borealis water.
“... My queen?”
Sayna shook herself and turned to Indigo as she spoke. “Sorry, what?”
“I said, to reach Theas-Lidir we must cross the Moss, and there may be Greeneyes there. We can afford to loose no more if we hope to have even a chance against whatever guarding force Tsarmina has.”
Sayna opened her mouth, but one of the healed otters, one who looked rather familiar, in a way, stepped up. “Your majesties, corporal. There is another way. A secret way across the great river.”
Indigo snapped her long ears straight up. “I say, enlighten us, sir… um…”
“Glyn.” Said the otter. He crossed his arms over a crimson-stained chest. “The ancient otter halls. The city we abandoned for its constant flooding and its sometimes disintegrating foundations. It is south of here, and runs beneath Ardú Falls.”
Sayna blinked. “Can we take a whole army through it?”
Glyn looked up into the tree tops for a moment, then nodded. “I believe so. The main hall is still structurally sound, it’s just the rest of it that’s debatable.”
He paused. “Stay close to us, for sure.”
Indigo turned to Sayna, and Sayna glanced to her left to see Tynek. Tynek was nodding. Sayna just followed his example. It sounded like their best chance of avoiding all attacks on their way. After a moment, Sayna said, “I say it’s the best course of action.”
“Very well.” Said Indigo, and she turned and began giving orders to their beleaguered army.
Sayna turned, instinctively ready to leap onto Dancer’s back, only her friend wasn’t there.
A terrible wave of cold hit her, and Sayna looked frantically around. Where was Dancer? She hadn’t seen her since she woke up… no. She hadn’t seen Dancer since she’d leapt from her back and told her to run so she wouldn’t be a casualty of Bloodwrath. 
Sayna ran after Indigo, interrupting her orders. “Indigo, where’s Dancer? Have you seen her?”
Indigo looked mildly annoyed at the sudden interruption, and said, “I… don’t know my queen, the last I saw her was during the worst of today’s battle. I believe she was above in the garden..”
“Thanks.” Said Sayna, before she dashed for the wood garden stairs. They were tall things, sized for a larger creature, and running up them had the effect of bolting up two normal stairs in single leaps. But Sayna didn’t slow, and oddly, though she wore full armor, she didn’t feel the ache in the backs of her legs that she should have. Another benefit of the Borealis. 
As time went on, Sayna had grown to attribute all her strange new abilities to the ice-flowers. 
She reached the crest of the stairs in less than a minute, and stared into a winter-browned garden painted in even more blood.
In the tides of this, it felt hard to believe she would again see the green of a forest not stained so grotesquely with death. Sayna saw some living, some trying to help injured to their paws. Rose was tending to a squirrel lying flat on her back, blood draining from her mouth. But as Sayna watched, the squirrel gasped and then coughed, before she weakly sat half up and looked around. Rose patted the creature’s back, speaking kindly to her in words Sayna couldn’t quite make out. 
But still, even here, Sayna didn’t see Dancer. Rose left the squirrel’s side and ran to the crumpled form of a mouse. Luna had gone a different direction and was helping an injured weasel… Sayna did a double take. A weasel?
Then she recalled Torrin saying something about some Greeneyes defecting. But… how would they know who was who?
Still, Sayna supposed Luna was the best at discerning creatures. She probably knew.
Sayna walked deeper into the garden, stepping over a corpse as she noticed Torrin come running up the stairs behind her. She cupped her paws to her mouth, and called, “Dancer? Dancer!”
Some creatures looked her way, and some injured groaned, but no cheery voice answered, no explaination for her absence. Had she… no. No, it couldn’t be. Sayna’s mind refused to even acknowledge the possibility.
Dancer had been by her side longer than any other.
No matter how many friends she made… Dancer followed her down from the north, and stayed with her while her mind was broken in ways she doubted any would fully understand. Even Sayna didn’t, not completely.
“Dancer!”
She’s alive, she’s alive. It’s fine. 
Her fear still felt so… dull. No raw, clawing sensation at the back of her mind that made her eyes burn; and it felt… wrong. It felt insincere. She knew true terror, and this was nothing of the sort.
“Sayna, it’s a big garden.” Torrin said as he walked up behind her. “And she might be outside that too. She’s probably ok, the last I knew she was with Wildfire.”
 Sayna glanced at the garden path below her boots, splashed in darkening crimson. Wildfire seemed to like Dancer, from all Sayna had seen. Surely he would protect her, if he could. But so many lay dead, and Sayna knew that each and every one would have had something to protect.
Hooves rang out, and Sayna jerked her head up, but her shoulders slumped again when she saw it was Solain. The kelpie looked a grizzly sight, with blood painting the scales around his mouth. 
“Have you seen Dancer?” Sayna asked.
He cocked his head, violet eyes brightening. Then he nodded, speaking in his low voice. “I have, not an hour ago. She was on the western side of Brockhall.”
Sayna felt a bit of her tension melt away. Not completely, that wasn’t a full answer, but it was something. Solain cocked his head. “I can take you there. Where I last spoke with her.”
Torrin glanced at Sayna, and nodded. “Please.”
Solain knelt, and Torrin vaulted onto his back. He held out a paw and Sayna took it, letting him pull her onto the equine in front of him. She settled in as Solain stood, and Sayna found it mildly odd at how… comfortable she was with this arrangement. It was starting to feel natural.
Solain trotted a few steps, then broke into his impossibly smooth run. Sayna glanced up at Torrin, and he smiled a bit, wrapping an arm around her even if that was completely unneeded in terms of her riding ability. And yet… she didn’t hate it.
No, in fact having him there was grounding. She’d felt it before, yes, but it always surprised her.
Maybe one day it wouldn’t anymore, and she’d just grow used to it.
Solain ran down the western slope of the garden, and into the denser woodlands that framed it. He burst from the trees onto a road mere moments later. Sayna looked left down it, then right. And a great exhale rushed from her lungs when she saw Dancer and Wildfire walking down it, away from them. Several mice walked with them… maybe they’d gotten separated from the rest of Indigo’s army.
“Dancer!” Sayna cupped her paws around her mouth as she called her friend’s name. 
Dancer paused, and turned her head as Solian spun easily to the side and galloped up the road toward her. Sayna leaned over his weed like mane until he slid to a stop near the group. She straightened up, asking, “What happened? Are you ok?”
She noticed the seemingly unconscious body of a mouse draped across Dancer’s back. Wildfire carried several. And Sayna saw then that the mice walking with the two equines were limping or somehow bandaged.
Dancer turned her head carefully, so as not to disturb her burden. “We got separated from the army. They pushed some of us back, but when it seemed like we were doomed, they just retreated. I’m not sure why… Wildfire and I are trying to take some of the living wounded back to Brockhall.”
By her side, Wildfire nodded. “Some can be saved, at least.”
Sayna shook her head. “Don’t take them inside Brockhall, take them to the garden above it. Rose is there.”
Dancer looked confused, and then Sayna realized her friend had no idea why that would change anything. “Uh, sorry. Rose has some Borealis water. It can cure any wound.”
Dancer blinked. “I know what it does, I just don’t know why there’s more of it.”
But she started walking again, this time veering from the road and beginning to make her way up the wooded hillside that they had just crashed down. Dancer picked her steps carefully, Wildfire followed, and Solain brought up the rear, neither Sayna or Torrin dismounting. Solain’s hooffalls were jolting against the limestone and dirt of the slope, and Sayna moved with him.
They eventually crested the hill’s top, into the winter-brown garden. 
Solian trotted to the front of the group as Torrin said, “Come, this way.”
Rose wasn’t terribly hard to find; they came across her in a few minutes. The moment she saw them, she rushed over and helped pull the mouse from Dancer’s back. As Rose pulled out her vial of glowing blue and dripped a bit into the creature’s worst injuries, Sayna slid from Solain’s back.
She walked over to Wildfire, reaching up to pull one of the two creature’s off him. The mouse was surprisingly light for the scuffed armor he wore, but then he was small. Short… with a shock of bloodied brown hair and a youthful face. And suddenly, Sayna remembered that face. Rowan. The awkward little mouse who’d asked her to dance at the festival and unwittingly started a trend.
He groaned as she laid him on the grass, and he opened dull hazel eyes. Rowan stared blankly up at her, before murmuring, “My queen?”
His paw fell from its place against his stomach, and it was smeared with fresh blood. Sayna winced, saying, “Hold on Rowan, just a moment longer.”
He had to be so young. Was he even Brek’s age? As she gazed down at his face in closer detail now, she wasn’t really sure. He winced as he drew in a weak breath, and smiled crookedly. “I… tried. Are we… winning?”
How could she tell him they weren’t even close? Sayna smiled back as best she could. “I’m sure… you’ve fought well. Hang on, we’re going to help you.”
“My sister’s safe, right?”
Sayna just shook her head. She could promise nothing, and it wasn’t as though she’d known Rowan even had a sister. Rose ran over then, and knelt beside them. She didn’t even bother removing Rowan’s armor, she just gently slipped her paw beneath his head and dripped a single drop of glowing water into a gash on his cheek.
He shivered seconds later, arching his back a little. Then he relaxed, and Sayna watched his wounds heal in moments as Rose ran to help the other mouse on Wildfire’s back.
Rowan slowly blinked, as his dull eyes brightened. He looked at Sayna, asking, “I’m… dead, right?”
She shook her head. “No. But I know the feeling.”
Sayna stood, relaxing a little. “You’ll be alright.”
Torrin had been helping Rose with the final mouse, but he walked to Sayna now. “We should get back to Indigo. If we leave within the hour we’ll reach Theas-Lidir before moonrise tomorrow night.”
She nodded, and Rowan weakly sat up. “Theas-Lidir? Why there?”
“Tsarmina is there.” Sayna gazed down at the young mouse. He was Brek’s age, and he’d nearly died for this. Realms below, Brek had nearly died for this. And Sayna herself had died for this. 
She clenched her teeth. “And I’m stopping her once and for all.”
Rose stood, after healing the last mouse. “I’m coming with you.”
Sayna blinked at Rose, and a sudden shiver ran down her spine. Because she couldn’t help but think of Marshank, of Sildrin, of Rose laying in her own blood in a flaming castle. They were assaulting a castle now too… there were just too many similarities. “Rose…”
“Sayna, I’m coming.” Rose said stubbornly. She held up the vial. “I have this. And I have my bow and knives. I’ll be alright.”
She wrapped both arms around Sayna, suddenly. “And if you all die, I’m dying with you.”
Sayna didn’t know what to even say. So after a moment she patted Rose’s hair… what else could she do? It wasn’t as though she could rightly argue that. Then she squeezed her sister into a tighter hug.
Rose smiled up at her. “I’ve grown up, Sayna. Don’t you trust me?”
Sayna’s vision blurred, for just a moment. Then she nodded, lifted her chin, and let Rose go. “I do.”
Dancer had walked the few paces between them, and she nudged Sayna’s arm. “We should go. It is a long journey for how little time we have.”
Sayna nodded, and in a quick motion, she vaulted onto Dancer’s back and settled into her familiar seat there. Dancer tossed her head and asked, “Where’s Indigo?”
“Down by the kitchen door.” Sayna said. 
Dancer started off, hooves crunching through leaves. She made her way down to Indigo’s group in the flat clearing by the kitchen. More had come, Sayna was sure, as Dancer trotted down the hill. The army outside the doors had grown, though Sayna noted that Bella and Argulor were clearly absent. She hoped they’d gone with Embrien to help the squirrels.
As she approached, Indigo rode from the assembly toward Sayna. “When are you going to tell me where you plan to run off to before you do it?”
“Ah… uh.” Sayna said. “Sorry.”
Though to be fair, she hadn’t really known where she was going when she left. Thudding hooves rang out from behind her, and Torrin and Solian joined her. Wildfire trotted past them, meeting Tynek as he walked closer. Rose joined them seated on Luna, and for a few moments Sayna let herself simply be a part of the chaos as Indigo shouted orders and more creatures on foot gathered around. Before they left, Spring even brought about fifty more to be a part of the group. 
Sayna looked over them, maybe three hundred already bloodied and probably weary.
She glanced to Torrin, asking, “This… is all we have?”
And these weren’t just mice. There were plenty of otters and even some squirrels mixed among them. Over half, Sayna could tell had been revived by the Borealis from obviously placed bloodstains on their damaged armor.
Torrin was looking around and frowning. “Where… are Sandingomm and Brek?”
Sayna pricked her ears up. Where had those two gone? She twisted in her seat on Dancer, looking around. “Didn’t they come with us from the great hall?”
She was almost certain they had. Torrin was nodding. “Well, Sandingomm has an army…”
Nearly in the second she said that Sayna caught sight of movement along the ridge of the garden above Brockhall; light glistening off a black coat. There trotted a large black horse, Sandingomm astride it. And by its side a shaggy gray pony struggled to keep up, Brek easily distinguished as its rider by his bright orange fur.
As they neared, Sayna began to see the creatures that followed them trailing behind, at least as many as already stood in the clearing. Sandingomm grinned as her black horse trotted to stand near Dancer. Sandingomm showed her white fangs. “Mind if’n we join the party?”
Sayna felt a rush of hope in her chest, because now that Sandingomm’s army had more fully crested the ridge of the garden, she saw there had to be more than three hundred of them. She guessed around five hundred.
Torrin grinned, saying, “We wondered if you were coming.”
“Wouldn’t miss it.” Sandingomm said, good natured, but Sayna knew she was completely serious.
Brek kept his chin high, and he offered Sayna a nervous little smile. It was so odd to see Brek ready to ride into battle, a sword by his side. And yet… it was both worrisome and in a strange way, nice. They’d shared so much when they were young, and now they shared this.
After a few moments to raid the pantry in Brockhall for the easiest supplies to carry, Spring led their army south, down a road Sayna had not yet traveled. 
Dancer trotted at the front of the army with the other leaders, and Sayna moved with her gait, rising and falling in her seat as Dancer’s hooves hit the ground in an even cadence. As they rounded a bend in the road, Sayna looked at Brockhall, and she hoped she would see it again. The white marble of its pillars vanished behind the black trunks of Mossflower’s time worn trees, and she again set her face ahead.
South was not a direction she often went, outside of her journey from the north into Mossflower. They rode through the nearly silent woods on a cold winter’s day, and though the sun shone, it was weak. It’s watery rays did little to light the gloom of the towering trees. 
No one spoke. Sayna could imagine how tired they were even if she wasn’t. She could remember those days and she didn’t miss the dragging sluggishness, the cold ache of exhaustion. How did they really plan to take on Tsarmina?
I’ll deal with her.
But how? She didn’t have Bloodwrath any longer. She couldn’t smash through enemy ranks in the blink of an eye.
Who did she think she was fooling?
Ignasa was with her. Sayna took a deep breath of the frosty air as she rested in the calm reality of that truth. Life or death, victory or defeat, Ignasa was with her. No matter the outcome, this was not the end.
The hours of quiet riding melded together, and it took far longer to reach the Moss than Sayna remembered. Then again, they were heading south, in a direction she could only guess was nearly parallel to the river. Hopefully, this would take them far out of the path of any vermin. They walked in the direct opposite way from where the Greeneyes had crossed.
At long last, Sayna pricked her ears up at the faint sounds of the river sloshing in its banks. But it was louder somehow, and as she neared, the splashing became a roar.
Wait, hadn’t the otter… Glyn… said something about Ardú falls?
As she thought this, Dancer rounded a bend in the old, worn road. The first thing Sayna saw was the perpetual mist rising off glassy water. Then she saw the falls, a thundering cascade of water into a basin that had to be twenty feet below them. 
Spring and her kelpie started down the steep and rocky hill, but did not approach the falls themselves. 
Slowly, the rest of the army followed her. Those not mounted scrambled down rocky portions of the slope with clashes of armor on stone. Dancer gingerly made her way down the white crags of limestone, each step sending a jolt through Sayna. Spring’s white kelpie leapt from stone to stone, silver tail dragging across the rocks behind it like sodden weeds. The creature stopped before a particularly large craige of the bone-like stone. Dancer reached them soon enough, and Sayna felt her mouth drop open slightly when she saw the rock’s face. It was an entryway, at least twelve foot high. 
Weathered carvings rimmed dusty doors coated in lichen and dead remnants of summer’s moss. These couldn’t have been opened in years.
Spring slipped her paw along her belt, until she pulled off a key ring. The other leaders were crowding around, and Sayna heard low murmurs between Sandingomm and Brek. As Spring dismounted and walked to the doors, Sayna looked behind her, down the hill. Now she could see a crumbling path, among the rocks. It curved once it reached the bottom of the slope, and led to the blue basin of the falls. Blue even in winter, when colors grayed.
 
A creaking groan filled the woods, and Sayna turned back to the rock framed set of double doors, as Spring shouldered them inwards.
They resisted at first, but her kelpie joined her efforts, and after inching open to a point, one door swung open on suddenly loose hinges. It gave way to a black maw, a cavernous darkness to which Sayna saw no end. The dim light of winter’s sunset did little to illuminate the interior, either. 
“Dismount to enter here.” Spring said to those behind her. “And tread softly. Let us otters go first.”
Sayna made no argument. She might have outgrown her kithood paranoia of things in the dark, but colder air wafted out through the door, and Sayna could smell the decay within. 
Glyn joined Spring, and then multiple other otters and kelpies. In a few moments they had torches lit, far faster than Sayna had expected. There must have been some stored near the doors themselves.
Spring walked inside, saying, “Come, follow me. Glyn, stay and shut the door once all have come in.”
He nodded, and Sayna slid from Dancer’s back. She met her friend’s gaze, and they exchanged a nod. Then as one, they walked into the ancient home of the otters, leaving the chill of a winter evening for a completely new kind of cold.
A forgotten, settled, musty sort of cold. As she walked, Sayna could envision the air swirling about her legs, disturbed by her presence. Anyway, the dust certainly did.
She looked up, far up to the cavernous ceiling where she could see darker patches where tiling and plaster had crashed to the floor. It lay scattered there, splayed across the glossy indigo stone.
“It’s so… beautiful.” Sayna breathed.
“It’s so creepy.” Rose said from nearby.
Torrin walked up to Sayna’s side, grinning a bit. “I like it.”
Rose shot them a look, then shook her head with a tiny smirk. “You two really are one in the same, aren’t you?”
Sayna felt her ears sink back a little, then realized she had no reason to be embarrassed. She was courting Torrin now, after all. It was fine.
She was probably going to have to tell herself that for a while. 
The torches Spring and some of the other otters carried revealed shadowed passageways branching from this main hall. They gaped like open mouths, or black eye sockets, and with the musty cold, a shiver danced up Sayna’s back.
She’d subconsciously stepped closer to Torrin, and suddenly noticed Dancer grinning knowingly at them. 
Sayna stuck her tongue out slightly, and Dancer nickered a laugh. 
They walked deeper, ever deeper into this massive hall. It seemed never-ending, simply stretching into pitch-black nothingness. 
The shuffle of hundreds of paws filled the once unbroken silence, and the soft murmur of voices joined them. The farther into the otterhalls they went, the more gentle dripping of water Sayna heard. 
Echoing plips of liquid from the hallways branching into complete darkness, and some from this massive corridor. Sayna thought it once was a thoroughfare, like the part of the current otter city where the vendors set up their stalls. In fact she could nearly imagine it here, ghostly echoes and laughter, haggling for fish, pearls, and weapons. 
No. She could hear it.
She froze in her steps for a second, then caught up to Torrin and grabbed his arm. She murmured, “Can you hear that?”
He slowly pricked his ears up, looking around. Then he nodded. “I do.”
 
His eyes shone a little in the torchlight. “Magic.”
Memories were strong here. Sayna couldn’t see them, not a wisp of movement. But they whispered their stories of forgotten days, drawn to a company so large as this. She looked at Torrin. “Are you seeing them?”
“No.” He shook his head. “Just the faintest echoes of sound.”
Spring stopped walking, and Sayna did as well. In result, the others did too, from Tynek and Rose to the entire army. Sayna looked over her shoulder, seeing the soldiers stretch out behind her on the blue-tiled floor, and despite the distance, she heard the grinding of the entrance being closed. So everyone must be inside, all eight hundred or so.
Spring looked to Sayna, and Tynek too. “We must call a meeting of leaders, now that we are safe from prying eyes.”
Sayna met the otter princess’s gaze, her dull eyes that seemed to drip exhaustion. She kept herself upright but it was stiff and forced, and her ears were held in a continual state of tilted halfway back.
A glance around showed the others Sayna could see were no better. So she nodded. 
It took a few moments to gather all those required, but once they stood a little ways deeper into the hall, separated from the army, Spring rubbed a paw down her face. “Fellow rulers… generals, advisors, this is a hard choice, but it must be made.”
After several nods, she sighed, “Do we push on or give our soldiers several hours of rest.”
“It is safe here.” Glyn added. “Once we leave through the exit, we will be on the Greeneye’s bank.”
Indigo tapped a paw to her chin, and Sayna forced herself to think this over from the mind of an exhausted creature. And also remind herself that whether she’d been impaled or not, she had gotten sleep.
Rose spoke up. “A lot of our creatures were badly injured before the Borealis. So I agree with Spring.”
Sayna glanced at Tynek, who didn’t look especially pleased. Still, he said nothing. Sandingomm put her paws on her hips. “I punched a lotta creatures taday. I could go fer a nap afor punchin’ more.”
“The forest is probably on fire.” Tynek said, flatly. 
Rose slipped her paw over his. “Ty, you’re tired too.”
Tynek looked at her, saying, “This is a war.”
Sayna shook her head, but Torrin spoke first. “Tynek, if you pass out, you’ll help no one.”
Tynek flicked his ears back for a moment, before sighing. “I will not pass out.”
“Yes well.” Rose squeezed his paw, and Sayna realized how tired she looked. “The rest of us might, dear.”
Spring nodded. “Then we make camp. We will leave in the dark of morning, before sunrise?”
There were nods all around. Spring turned to Glyn. He spoke before she did, with a tired smile. “There should be some wood that can be used for fires in the offshooting passages. I’ll form a party.”
“Thank you.” Spring sighed. “Lutentiant.”
He bowed and hurried off. 
Once the word was passed around, most of the soldiers sat down where they stood. Many Sayna noticed simply curled up on the floor and fell asleep then and there. The battle at Brockhall had taken its toll on all of them. Except… her. Since she’d only been awake for the very end.
It made her feel guilty, though she tried to keep that at bay.
In less than half an hour, about five fires had been lit, spread across the massive hall. And while the flames danced invitingly, Sayna did not huddle in their glow. She watched as Rose settled against Luna, and Tynek with Wildfire. Despite his protests, he was asleep in seconds.
Dancer snuggled down near Luna, and looked at Sayna expectantly. But she shook her head with a sigh. “Not… just yet.”
If she lay down, there would be nothing to do but stare blankly at a crumbling ceiling and think. If she was doomed to think anyway, she’d rather do it while walking. Besides, this place was beautiful, and ancient, and she could not deny her desire to explore. 
It wasn’t as though she was tired. 
She walked slowly away, deeper into the whispering halls. And she closed her eyes as the murmurs of yesterday surrounded her, warm and friendly. The laughter of kits and adults alike flowed about her like water, and she relaxed. Because this was good magic, pure and kind… Ignasa’s.
Her boots made soft but echoing taps on a floor of glazed blue. This surely had been a marketplace. She could hear the faint calls of sellers advertising their wares, the creak of cart wheels, the thud of hooves. 
Nothing appeared, so she simply closed her eyes and listened. The clash of metal on a forge, the sizzle of something cooking. 
For some reason, Sayna felt the sensation of tears in her eyes, as she listened to that lost piece of the past.
The sounds of a thriving nation, a happy normalcy. Her court would have this too. She took a shuddering breath, looking up with blurred sight as her ears drooped across the braids wrapping around her head. 
They could do this. 
They would do this. 
One day she would stand on the steps of her own hall and hear these sounds among the cities of her own creatures. Because she had given them her life, no matter how annoying a select few could be.
“I’ll give you every breath I take.”
“That’s reassuring.” Torrin spoke from behind her.
Sayna jumped, wheeling around. Yes, it was him. She rolled her eyes, and smirked. “I wasn’t talking to you.”
Then she realized that probably sounded mean. “I was talking about Mossflower… and being a queen, and… you know.”
She hoped he did. He seemed to as he said, “It’s alright. I shouldn’t have snuck up on you.”
Sayna glanced behind them, down the endless, dripping hall and where small orange fires gleamed in the darkness. “What are you doing, actually? Aren’t you tired?”
“I am, but no offence to Solain, sleeping against a kelpie is like sleeping against a fish.” He paused. “Also you were wandering off again.”
Sayna sighed. “I’m not going far. Just listening. Imagining, I guess.”
When she focused on the present, the whispers of the past faded somewhat. She shrugged. “I couldn’t sleep if I tried.”
That much was true. 
Torrin glanced over his shoulder, then asked, “Do you want to walk?”
“Torrin, you need sleep.” Sayna crossed her arms. “We have a full day's march and a battle ahead of us. And you aren’t allowed to die.”
“I’m not?” He asked, rather curiously.
Sayna tilted her ears to the sides, unimpressed. “No. Because I want to see more of you when we aren’t covered in blood and stabbing creatures.”
He grinned. “What if I like you when you’re covered in blood and stabbing creatures?”
Sayna smacked her palm to her forehead. But she’d forgotten her crown, and a clink of metal sounded as her gauntlet hit it.
Torrin took a step forward, saying, “I was joking… mostly. I too, wish to see more of you once this is over.”
Sayna felt the smile tugging at the corners of her mouth. No, the grin. Was it even possible to like someone this much? And as she stared up at him, into those eyes like a sunlit sea, she had to wonder if this was what loving someone really felt like.
And she wasn’t sure she had ever felt anything quite like the flutter in her throat she got whenever she looked into Torrin’s eyes too long.
Stop it…
But she didn’t want to stop it. She shook her head, smiling wryly. “Go sleep. Please; it’ll give me peace of mind.”
Torrin laid a paw on her arm, before leaning down and kissing her forehead, below her crown. “Goodnight then. Please don’t wander down one of the side hallways, I’d rather not learn if you can survive a cave in.”
“I won’t.” Sayna promised. And she wasn’t sure what possessed her to grab his arm, lean forward on the front half of a paw and kiss him on the cheek. But she did.
He paused, stared at her for a moment, and grinned from ear to ear. Sayna looked down a bit. And shrugged. “Sorry.”
“No.” He said. “You don’t get to apologize; I liked it.”
Torrin said nothing for a few seconds, then added. “And if you get even the slightest bit tired, please sleep?”
“I will.” Sayna said, and it wasn’t a lie.
“Alright then.” He said. “I’ll see you in a few hours.”
He waved a bit, then walked back toward the fires. She just dumbly nodded even as he left, and then nearly smacked herself. When had she turned into such a sodden, lovestruck idiot? And when did she decide that was a good thing?
What had her life become?
“You really do like him, don’t you?” Asked a familiar voice, small in the darkness. Almost forlorn.
Sayna jumped a bit, turning to see Brek, standing in the shadows behind her, nearer the wall to her left. His wild hair glowed faintly, backlit by the dancing flames down the hall. He slowly wrapped his arms around himself and sank against the stonework.
Her cheeks warmed a bit, but then, she liked Torrin. She did. As much as anyone could like someone they’d met less than half a year prior, she did. 
“Yeah.” She said at last, walking closer to Brek. “Why would I court him if I didn’t?”
“I heard you courted Gruvan.” Brek muttered, rubbing his arm. “I didn’t know.”
Sayna sighed. “I… should never have done that.”
As well as she could in the dark, she met Brek’s gaze. “I let Gruvan think we had more than we did, and I told myself we had more than we did.”
She took a deep breath. “Brek, if you think about it, I’d been told I had no path but to marry, no purpose but to be a northern farmer’s wife and the mother of his kits. I thought Gruvan was the best option, logically. I might not have loved him romantically… realms above I couldn’t ever kiss him, poor mouse… but I didn’t hate him. I even liked him.”
Brek just stared for a moment, then slowly asked, “You were willing to… settle? You?”
“Life is all about choosing from not ideal or worse, Brek.” Sayna sighed. She walked over and leaned against the wall near him. “Nothing’s ever perfect.”
She paused, before saying, “Surely you know that.”
Brek nodded, then whispered, “Is he perfect? Torrin?”
The silly, stupid, besotted part of Sayna tried to say he was. But she held it down and answered with the most honest response she knew. “I’m sure he isn’t. And I don’t expect it. I am not perfect, how could I ask it of another? Only Ignasa is perfect.”
She took a deep breath. “But I know this. I have those silly, distracting feelings for him. What Rose always talks about. He listens to me, to the words I say and he cares about what I think. I’m not an object, a figurehead, or symbol to him. I feel at peace with him, and I know in the deepest part of my soul that I will never find another to even compare. Brek I…”
She paused, then looked away. “I can almost see myself marrying him. In a few years.”
The silence stretched long, and then Brek said, “Wow.”
“Yeah.” Sayna buried her face in her gauntlets, leaning against the wall and shrinking down a bit. “That’s probably too far.”
Most certainly too far. She no idea if Torrin felt that deeply for her. Or what she would really do if he did.
Brek sighed, and he sounded forlorn, like a kit who’d been separated from their mother, and had given up ever finding her again. Despondent was a good word for it. “I’m glad for you. I just… thought we’d be close if I found you again.”
She looked up as he sighed. “I guess I knew, in my head, if I ever saw you, you’d be different. I just didn’t know it in my heart.”
“Brek…” Sayna began, but he shook his head. 
And he smiled a cracking smile, as best he could. “It’s ok. I really am happy that you are. I guess… I just didn’t expect no one to need me anymore.”
Sayna stepped toward him, saying, “What in the realms do you mean?”
“You’re with Torrin now, you’ll want to spend your time with him. Rose is with Tynek, and Gingivere’s with Sandingomm, and I guess… I’ve served my purpose. Maybe I’ve outlived my usefulness. It’s… ok.”
He took a deep breath, and in the dim light Sayna saw his eyes glimmer as his tone belied his words. “It’s ok.”
Before she knew what she was doing, she’d dove forward and wrapped him up in her arms. He weighed as much as kit half his size, and Sayna buried her face in his wild hair, her vision swimming in the darkness. Finally, she whispered, “I’m not replacing you.”
He didn’t resist her, but he didn’t hug back as his voice cracked. “It feels like it.”
“That’s a lie Brek.” Sayna squeezed him tighter. “You’re my brother.”
“Tynek is your brother.” Brek mumbled, but he finally wrapped his arms around her in return.
Sayna closed her eyes, whispering, “I have two brothers.”
She felt him melt against her, and his weak hug as his legs buckled. Sayna slid down the wall, holding Brek close as he started to sob. She stroked the back of his head, like she had when they were young, and he came crying to her because he’d had a nightmare. And her tears dripped into his hair as she said, “I always have. And I always will. And I love you both.”
Brek sniffled for awhile, face buried in her armor, and he cried for a long time, his hug tightening.
“I’m not replacing you.” She said softly. “Do you know how many nights I’ve wept for you, because I thought you were dead for my foolishness? Another name on the list of those I’ve broken or harmed? My own little brother.”
“We’re so different now.” Brek murmured.
Sayna sighed, feeling as he snuggled against her. She let him, closing her eyes as she said, “We’re more alike than you think. We’re both warriors, both servants, both bound to our words and the blades we wield. Me to my creatures and you to your prince, your queen.”
Brek still wept, but quieter now. Sayna leaned her cheek atop his head, and for a moment she was Salley again. A dead creature, in a dead, long-lost time.
“Ignasa forbid I ever replace you. Or that I not heed you when you need me.” Sayna sighed a heavy sigh. “If you need to talk, just ask.”
Brek curled his thin tail around himself, then closed his eyes as he whispered, “Ok.”
Sayna didn’t open her eyes, and he didn’t move. And as she listened to the persistent dripping that echoed through the ancient otter halls, she listened to Brek’s crying fade. Still, he didn’t move, and after awhile, his even breathing told her he’d fallen asleep. 
Poor, exhausted kit. This was all too much for him. 
It was too much for her, for anyone.
She let herself relax, and as the voices of today fell still, the voices of yesterday awakened. Sayna listened to their stories of better times, when kits could be kits and lovers could love without the fear of sudden loss. When families knew their every member and twins could grow up in each other’s presence. 
They truly were beautiful days.
One day. One day she would see them herself. 
One day they would be more than a memory.
“Sayna.”
Sayna mumbled her response. “S’not time to get up yet.”
“Battle waits for no creature.”
Sayna slowly blinked her eyes open, to see Torrin standing over her, Spring a little behind him with a torch. For a second, Sayna wasn’t sure where she was. Then the events of the night came back to her, and she looked down. Brek lay curled against her side, eyes closed and breathing even.
She shook herself. She’d actually fallen asleep? She hadn’t been tired, or at least, she hadn’t thought she was. 
Brek stirred, and sat up with a yawn as he rubbed blearily at his eyes. He looked confused for a moment, and then seemed to remember as understanding replaced his bewilderment. Sayna took the paw Torrin held out for her, and he helped her to her boots. 
“We’re nearly ready to move out.” Torrin told her.
Sayna nodded, and Spring spoke from where she held the torch. “I want to be deep in Greeneye land before the sun rises. Far past where their scouts might expect us.”
Sayna had no arguments for that. Before she left, Brek grabbed her arm and smiled wistfully at her, in the flickering light. “Thanks.”
He took a deep breath. “I needed that.”
Sayna nodded. She had been wanting to talk with him too. And she understood him better now, she understood his fear. Of course Brek, the kit who never wanted to miss out on anything, would fear being left behind.
They walked back to the impromptu camps, where the remnants of fires were being stomped out and orders were being given.
Dancer came trotting to Sayna’s side, but she said nothing as Spring got them moving again. In fact, Sayna heard no more conversations as they crossed the rest of the ancient hall. Spring’s voice was the first Sayna heard, as she called a halt outside monumental stone doors where the hall finally ended.
Some otters pulled them open a small ways, and Spring sent out a few scouts. Sayna heard Indigo do the same. Some time later, they returned with news that the path ahead remained clear.
With that, several otters swung the doors wide, and moments later, Sayna found herself hit with the freezing air of a still dark winter morning. Frost glittered white over every rock she saw, and turned the night brighter with reflected moonlight.
Snow would fall soon. It had too.
Dancer stepped up to her and knelt. Sayna swung lightly onto her back without a word. The silence of the morning was almost reverent, and none seemed eager to break it. 
It took time, but soon the company was walking away from the river, leaving the ancient otter city beneath Ardu falls behind. Soon, Sayna could not even hear the crash of water. And not long after, all the trees gave way to mile upon mile of grassland dotted in chunks of rock. Spires of it rose white in the moonlight, like massive chunks of bone. 
The thuds of hooves, clinks of armor, and shuffle of boots in tall, dead grass consumed Sayna’s reality. 
For hours they walked in the darkness, and Sayna kept staring over her shoulder at the even darker mass of Mossflower, looking for any signs of firelight. But if there were fires, they were too far away to be seen. The woods remained still until they faded completely, lost behind the endless, gentle hills.
The sun rose over those hills hours later, streaking in a white line across the horizon. As it peeped over the skyline, it turned bright orange, flooding the prairie with light. Each drooping piece of grass cast a sharp shadow in the face of that brilliance, and the hills became speckled with blacks and browns.
And it was beautiful. It truly was.
For a time Sayna let herself live that beauty, and exist in it seamlessly. She heard the sound of her army, and the sighing of grass as the breeze picked up.
But as the sun climbed the sky, it began to grow dull. The limestone-dotted hills never changed, except when they passed the occasional lake, all of them rimmed with ice and dead cattails. Once, Sayna saw a few feral horses several hills away, but they fled as her army approached.
A halt was called around midday, and lunches of bread or dried meat were hastily eaten. In what seemed hardly any time at all, Sayna found herself riding again, Dancer walking at a steady pace. She moved with her friend’s gait, feeling each hooffall. She absently reached for her satchel, only to find she didn’t have it. So she had nothing to do. Absolutely nothing, she couldn’t even read. She watched the scenery pass with dull eyes, as it’s beauty melded into monotony. Why were battles so unreasonably boring?
The fighting itself was terrible and frantic, but the rest was just moving around.
Instead, as the day dragged on, she tried to occupy herself with what she did know of Theas-Lidir. It was a castle built by vermin, since it was stone. And it once was the capital of the vermin court, according to Sandingomm. Whegg had said it was Tsarmina’s second largest castle, hadn’t he?
Outside of that however, Sayna didn’t have a clue, leaving very little to ponder. She wasn’t ready to contemplate her future yet, not fully… what if it didn’t happen?
There… really wasn’t a thing to do. She prayed some, but after awhile it felt like she was going in circles. After many agonizing hours of silence, the sun set at last, dipping the slowly flattening prairie into darkness. The hills didn’t seem so tall here, though if she was being honest with herself, Sayna had stopped paying attention a long time ago. The evening stretched ever onwards, and still, there was no sign of a single living being. Sayna supposed most of the Greeneyes were in Mossflower right now. And she had to wonder if the forests still stood.
No. She couldn’t focus on that. She had to only focus on the next step, the next hour of riding, the next fight she would enter.
But even if they killed Tsarmina, would that stop anything? She was so far away from her army. Would news of her death reach them, provided Sayna’s army was victorious? Or was this all a waste of time and lives, another mistake to stain her record as queen?
She did her best not to consider it.
And of course, it wasn’t like she could go back now.
Hours after the sun had set, when the moon climbed into the heavens as a bright crescent and the stars speckled a velvet sky, Spring called a halt. 
She trotted over to Sayna and Tynek on her kelpie, saying, “We are not far.”
Sayna glanced over at Sandingomm, because she caught the movement of her shaking her head. And her eyes shone with a wistfulness, and a certain level of sorrow. “No, we aren’t. I remember.”
Spring nodded. “A thirty minute march will put us at the gates, if I recall this right.”
Dancer stamped a hoof, snorting under her breath, and Sayna knew the eagerness. She wanted this over with. Let the outcome be what it would be, but let the waiting be over.
They kept most of the army walking about a hill behind, and led by Spring and Sandingomm, Sayna found herself leaning over Dancer’s mane as they loped. Spring’s white kelpie reared at the crest of a small rise, and the other leader’s mounts slid to halts around her. Dancer reared slightly.
Sayna found herself looking into a valley dotted with homes, and rearing over them, the walls of a castle that couldn’t be all that much smaller than Kotir. And in the torchlight on the parapets, she could see the Greeneye flags fluttering in the breeze.
The city sprawled out on the castle's western and northern sides, but the other walls were free, though even from here, Sayna could see the reflection of the moon in the jagged moat that ringed the fortress. She looked to Sandingomm as the cat said, “I remember.”
Sandingomm grinned, though her eyes glistened. “I thought I’d have forgotten, but I really do remember.”
Sayna looked around, asking, “Do we have a plan of attack?”
“We send scouts.” Indigo said. “And we need to be in before moonset.”
Tynek patted Wildfire’s mane as he sat rigid on his back, staring at the castle. “Then let it be done.”
== Chapter 61 On Streets of Sorrow ==
Sayna stared at the city they ran alongside, and past. They had no interest in it or its citizens, and really, she hoped they would all flee when the fighting began. Tsarmina had brought this upon herself, but these creatures hadn’t. Indigo would be getting the army in place. And the scouts had said there were a good number of slave pens on the southern side of the castle.
Slaves could make the perfect distraction, while their escape would ensure their safety. 
And Sayna knew her part in this. She glanced at Sandingomm, riding beside her, and grinned a bit. The cat grinned back. Causing absolute chaos and knowing about ancient history were her specialties, and she’d get to do both tonight.
They drew to a halt on a hill southeast of the castle, a vantage point from which Sayna could clearly see the drawbridge. As they waited for their armies to assemble, Sayna turned to Sandingomm. “On the western wall… you’re sure?”
“Yeah, if it still exists. Gingi showed me a map. Cause I asked.” Sandingomm nodded matter-factly.
Sayna adjusted her seat and Dancer pranced in place. She supposed they had no better options, and if the vermin court had built Kotir, it only made sense that their other castles would share some of the same features. All she could pray was that the simpler tunnel system Sandingomm spoke of remained intact.
Tynek had offered to speak with the slaves, and Brek had as well. Torrin even offered his help in starting the prospective revolt, and while Sayna wished he could come with her, she understood why he’d probably be of more help there. 
Indigo arrived not long after, to say the army was in place.
Sayna met her gaze. “Watch over them. And be ready for my signal…”
She paused. She’d called Indigo 'corporal’ for so long, it was a wrote response. But that wasn’t an accurate title, was it? Sayna smiled, saying, “General.”
Indigo’s ears shot up, and her brown eyes gleamed with sudden tears. “With all respect my queen, you don’t get to call me that until you have a proper promotion ceremony.”
She raised her chin. “I accept the rank, but you’ll need to survive this to give me the title properly. Is that clear?”
Sayna smiled weakly, then nodded. “Yes, corporal. I’ll see you have the honor of a proper promotion.”
Indigo nodded sharply, and Sayna turned away as Spring rode down the line of leaders, asking, “Are we ready?”
Nods and quiet confirmations came from all, and with that, Spring started down the hill, and all followed. This… really wasn’t proper, what they were doing. Kings and queens, from all she had seen, were expected to lead from a certain distance unless the fighting grew too desperate.
Well, this was desperate. 
One shot. You don’t dare to miss.
They wouldn’t. She wouldn’t let them, even if she had to cut down the castle gates with her sword. It was now, or it would be never.
When they left the horses behind the final hill to avoid detection, Sayna gave Dancer a long hug. She lingered against her friend’s warm chest and neck, breathing in the fragrance of her raven-blue mane. Dancer nudged her face, and smiled as widely as she could. “I’ll see you on the battlefield.”
Sayna nodded. “I swear you will.”
Moments later, the equines started back for the army, leaving them alone, deep in the enemy’s land. It was hardly a pleasant feeling, but it was according to plan and couldn’t be helped. As they vanished over the hill, Spring started forward, her steps soft. “Come. I remember playing here as a young one. The grass should hide us if we’re quiet.”
Sayna felt at a disadvantage, wearing full armor as she was, being quiet was probably the thing she’d be least good at. 
Still, as Spring slipped forward, bending below the top of the brittle grass, Sayna followed. And she realized how advantageous her height was in this endeavor. Even on tip-paw, her head barely reached the top of the grass, so all she needed to do was duck down. Sandingomm, on the other paw, was forced to crawl on her paws and knees. Brek didn’t even have to lower his head, and Rose only bent over slightly. Torrin had to crouch a lot more, as did the weasel and the several other vermin who’d come with Sandingomm. Tynek was no worse off than Sayna herself.
The outer stalks of each cluster of grass lay wilted and soggy on the ground, and no matter how lightly she tread, each step made a painfully loud squish.
As they neared Theas-Lidir’s looming walls, the grass became ever shorter, and Sayna found herself forced to bend lower. This part of the plains was still dotted with rocks, though they were smaller. Spring slipped behind one as the grass became too short to hide in, like it had been cut… or more likely used as pasture for the castle’s horses. In fact, come to think of it, Sayna could see some of the prints their hooves had left in the mud.
Their group crowded around the rock Spring had chosen, and Sayna pressed her back to it. It was about as tall as Sandingomm, so the cat remained perched on four paws, her tail pressed against the ground for balance. Sayna peered around the side of the rock, watching the guards walk along the castle walltops, not yet close enough to blot out the sky with stone.
Several smaller white rocks dotted the area, some even closer to the walls, but none passed the moat. And the moat itself was a bit odd, as it wasn’t flush with the castle wall like Sayna had imagined. Or… not completely. It was on the eastern and northern side, and she guessed it would be the same to the west. But on the southern side; the side they approached, there were simple wooden buildings and tall fences against the castle’s wall, and the moat ringed them.
Sayna didn’t have to ask Spring to guess those were the slave pens the scouts had told them about.
“We’ll go one at a time.” Spring said softly. “To that next rock that’s a bit closer. From there, I think we can make it to the moat.”
She hurried away then, moving cautiously along, low to the ground. Tynek wasn’t very good at it and Brek’s red hair reminded Sayna of flames in the moonlight, but then, the moon was sinking in the sky. And no alarms were raised as she made her way across the open space and joined the others in the new rock’s shelter.
Torrin and Rose joined them soon after, and Sayna had to admire Torrin’s ability to be stealthy. Not only did his dark fur offer the perfect camouflage, but his steps made almost no noise. Rose was equally as silent, though her hair was somewhat more visible. But as Sandingomm and her three other vermin joined them, Sayna decided that they must already be past the normal area that the guards on the wall tops were observing. Which did make sense, since they were probably focused on the grass itself. Sayna and her group apparently just managed to avoid detection. 
Spring nodded to them, then crept off again, making her way to the moat. Sayna saw her crouch there, in the thick dead cattails, a mere movement in the black shadow of the castle walls. Brek went next, then Sayna, and she heard no alarms for that trip either, though to be fair, she didn’t really expect to.
She knelt in the cattails and let out a sigh of relief for the cover, before looking across the clear, still water, to the quiet slave pens in the wall’s shadow. Now she saw a guard patrolling by the water’s edge, and then several more, though they walked in a pattern, spaced widely apart. Still, they seemed in sight of each other at all times.
Spring nodded to herself, muttering, “We need to kill them all at once so none can raise the alarm.”
She waited until the full company had joined them, then repeated herself for the new-comer’s benefit. Sayna looked at the cold, ice-rimmed water and shivered. But if anyone could stand it, it would be her. “I’ll take one.”
Rose spoke from nearby. “I can shoot one from this side.”
Sandingomm switched her tail across the ground. “Blech. I hate water on a good day… but Germaine’s been showin’ me stuff. I think I kin make a fairly convincin’ illusion.”
She looked to the weasel soldier at her side, asking, “Ya soldiers like purty girls, don’t ya?”
“Uhm.” The soldier was an older creature, and he looked taken aback. “Yes… my queen? As much as the next creature… I… maybe you could make their commandin’ officer?”
“I dunno what they look like.” Sandingomm shrugged.
She huffed. “Look Rupert. If a spectral hot lady creature rose outa the moat ya was guardin, would ya at least be too shocked ta sound the alarm fer a couple moments?”
“I expect if any spectral creature rose out of the moat I was guardin’, I’d be surprised, yes.” Rupert said.
Sayna found herself a little taken aback, though she shouldn’t have been. But only Sandingomm would think of using Ignasa’s magic in such a way. Sometimes Sayna had to wonder how she was a Prophet.
However Spring was actually nodding. “Do it. I see six guards, and there’s got to be more inside the pens themselves. I don’t want them warning their companions, because all of Theas-Lidir cannot know of our presence.”
She looked at Sayna. “You and I will kill the one’s farthest from each other. Rose shoots the one nearest mine, and I need someone to take the one nearest Sayna. Sandingomm distracts the two in the middle, Rose, you shoot one and whoever’s nearest takes the other.”
“I’ll go.” Tynek said. “I can use Bloodwrath’s strength.”
“Alright. The rest of you back us up if we need it. Get into position. You have exactly five minutes, count it out.” She met the gazes of all involved, and at their nods, said, “Go. Start counting now.”
Sayna obeyed, keeping low as she ran along the moat’s bank, in the cattail’s shadow. She counted in her head, thinking of nothing but to count and get into place. She kept the seconds numbered in her brain as she found her guard, and even as she slid across a shoal of ice into freezing water that came up to her neck. She drew in a sharp breath at it, but she kept counting.
Three minutes had passed. She walked slowly, soundlessly through the water as it deepened. She took the largest breath she could as she walked into water deeper than she was tall, and her armor kept her grounded to the moat’s silty bed.
She kept walking, and counting, as the air began to burn in her lungs. Still, it was not half so quickly as she’d feared. In fact with the counting, she found she stayed below the surface for only slightly under a minute.
The feeling of ice surrounded her as she pushed forward, boots sending up clouds of silt and sand in the underwater landscape. She could see vague shapes of rocks in the dark water, and the abrupt wall ahead of her. She had a minute left as she pulled herself up among the dead reeds on Theas-Lidir’s side of the moat.
Bitter winter air lashed through her armor and the quilted hauberk beneath it, and she shuddered, trying to hold it down. The temperature felt like it had dropped at least ten or twenty degrees, and it was hard to keep her muscles from involuntary twitching. 
All she could think of was how she hoped Tynek would be alright. 
The sound of the guard’s approaching steps made her ears snap up, and she realized she’d stopped counting. How many seconds were left? Ten? Five? Thirty?
Then she heard a muffled splash and clinks of armor, and she didn’t hesitate. She leapt up, drawing her sword in a blazing arch. The guard had been nearly upon her, and the act of drawing her blade slashed his chest open. He fell with a muffled choking, and the slight clash of armor. Sayna winced. She should have grabbed him so he didn’t hit the ground.
A thwack rang out nearby, and Sayna turned to see a guard twenty some paces away to her left stagger back, clutching the arrow in his throat. He crumpled to the ground, gurgling for a moment, before he went still. Sayna recalled when Amber had done that to her… she’d fared better. 
Rose stood up on the far bank, in the act of notching another arrow on her string. Sayna looked past her, and froze. Because there, standing on the water’s surface not far from this shore, was a glowing figure, tall and… very like Sandingomm. Yes, it was made of glowing blue, but in features, it looked exactly like Sandingomm in her seer underwear. It was tall, with flowing blue hair and blank glowing eyes as it slowly hovered above the water towards two frozen soldiers on the bank.
A hiss and a thud rang out as one of them collapsed, an arrow between his chestplate and paldron. 
That shook Sayna from her trance.
She bolted for the still standing guard, who was just starting to shake himself free of Sandingomm’s illusion. But an arch of flames burst from behind him as she neared, and a burning blade grew from his chest. It withdrew as he fell, and Tynek stood behind him, shivering, his hair plastered to his head. Tynek sheathed his sword and the flames vanished, and Sayna quickly did the same. The more glowy things they had, the more likely they were to be seen by the guards on the walls.
Sayna shuddered a bit as the illusion of Sandingomm faded away, and she looked to Tynek, asking, “Are you ok?”
He shivered from ears to tail, shaking himself as he flung water droplets everywhere. “Cold.”
Sayna nodded. She was too. It was settling in her fur now, like a layer of ice. Maybe it was actually a layer of ice. Spring helped Rose across first, and the moment she placed her boots on the castle’s side of the moat, she ran to Tynek. 
“Ty, are you alright?”
He was shivering a lot, even more than Sayna. He just nodded. “F… Fine.”
Thankfully, Spring could walk across the moat without being entirely submerged, and she got Torrin and Brek over easily. Sandingomm did get a little wet, though it was mostly just her tail. She looked none too happy about it, though.
She lashed her tail back and forth, spraying water everywhere and she stamped her paws a bit, the fur on her shoulder spiking. “Ack. So cold!”
Sayna couldn’t help but agree. She manged to keep her shivering mostly at bay as Torrin looked from her to Tynek, and said, “We need to get you two by a fire.”
“No time.” Sayna shook her head. Tynek nodded his agreement. Spring brought over Sandingomm’s vermin companions, then climbed from the water as it streaked off her sleek fur in rivulets. She shook herself, and looked annoyingly no worse for wear, though Sayna supposed that was a good thing.
She turned to Sandingomm, asking, “Are you ready?”
She could barely keep the tremors from her voice. 
Sandingomm cocked her ears back a bit, asking with concern, “Are ya? Ya seem cold, are ya sure ya don’t need…
“There is no time, alright?” Sayna said, more sharply then she’d intended to. “I’m immortal, I can take it. Let’s go, if I’m moving, I won’t be as cold.”
Sandingomm sighed, but nodded. “Alright. Rupert, Duane, ya ready?”
Rupert, the weasel, bent over the guard Rose had shot in the neck. “My queen. Before we leave, ya may want ta see this.”
She frowned, and trotted to his side. With a shiver, Sayna followed. The dead soldier lay in a crumpled heap, blood draining from the sides of his mouth. But what interested Sayna the most was the multiple smears of green paint across his left pauldron. Rupert looked up. 
“Tsarmina must’a had her soldiers mark themselves cause she knew my company defected.”
Sandingomm wrinkled her nose. “Smart a her.”
Sayna looked down at the guard, noting the blood that had splattered where the paint was, marring it. Tynek shivered from nearby as he said, “Take this armor?”
“Most of it’s damaged.” Sayna said, thinking of the guard whose chest she’d slashed open, and the one Tynek had had impaled. Their melted armor would definitely be suspicious.
Sayna looked to Spring, who shook her head. “I dragged mine into the moat.”
Rose had walked over, and she sighed. “The other one I shot has blood all over his chest… I must have hit an artery.”
She sounded like she felt bad about that.
“I think you hit his heart.” Tynek said, after a quick glance at the creature in question.
Rupert groaned as the ferret, Duane said, “So we’re outa luck. Even with our armor an’ if we get in the castle, we’ll get found out right away.”
Sayna glanced up at the walls, some one hundred paces away. “Well… can we make paint or something? We don’t know when they change these guards… or how many are actually in the slave pens.”
She looked down to the buildings, all of which were dark, save one. It was no bigger than the others, it was smaller.
Cracks of light shone through the rough old boards, and with a shiver, Sayna started toward it. Bootsteps quickly followed, as Torrin ran up beside her. “Wait, don’t go off alone.”
“We can’t just stand out there.” Sayna whispered. “Who knows when we’ll be found. We have to keep going with the plan, marked armor or no.”
More steps joined them; lighter ones, as Rose ran to her side. “I agree, but you can’t go off on your own. We’re coming with you.”
Sayna just nodded, as they’d come very close to what she suspected was a guardhouse. So close in fact, that she could hear muffled voices through the thin walls. She approached on a side that wasn’t the one with the door, and pressed her ear to the weathered boards.
 
“Ale out here’s terrible, mate.” Said a voice from inside. “Least they could do is give us good drink if they’re gonna make us guard these realmless slaves.”
 
“Dodd, ya smuggled that in. An’ if they catch us we’re all dead or flogged or in the stocks, so shut up.”
The first voice, apparently Dodd, snapped back. “I swear they treat us worse’n the slaves!”
A new voice chimed in, female this time. “Stop whinin’ Dodd, ya drunk fool. We could’a got sent cross the Moss. Ya know, I heard ‘em say they marched so many a our soldiers in their corpses made a bridge. Jerilyn’s merciless, so she is.”
There was a crash, and then Dodd snarled, “Rich brat! Her father was a better vassal. I remember them good ol’ days, when Verdauga sat on his throne, an we didn’t have no spoilt kitty queen…”
“Shut up!” An entirely new voice growled. “Traitors get a noose if’n they’re lucky. An stop throwin’ the ale! It may not be good but it’s all I’ve had inn’a week.”
Sayna pulled back, looking at Torrin and Rose, and some others that had gathered around. She shook her head and whispered, “There’s at least four in there.”
Spring had come over, and she twirled her harpoon in a way that reminded Sayna greatly of Warthorn. Unbidden, a small lump formed in the back of her throat. She swallowed it as the otter princess muttered, “Be ready for more.”
Sandingomm walked to the door, and Rupert and Duane joined her. Rupert glanced at Sayna and the others, saying, “Let us deal with this… come in if we need help.”
Sayna nodded, and the next second there was a muffled bang as Duane shoved the door open. Sayna ran around to the side of the building housing the door as curses, thuds, and a few cries of pain filled the night. A shiver racked her body as she ran up the two sagging steps and into the small guardhouse, a place that was blessedly warm.
One of Tsarmina’s guards had been skewered to the wall by what was likely his own spear, and Duane was in the act of pulling a knife from another’s throat. Rupert had one on the ground, and Sandingomm held one feet off the ground, while she punched him repeatedly in the face with steel-clad gloves. Now Sayna realized why Sandingomm had short spikes sewn across her knuckles.
Sayna felt the air rush from her lungs as someone slammed her into the door and ran past her. It was the female guard, but she didn’t get far, as she found herself face to face with Torrin’s axe.
There was a thud and Sayna looked inside to see Sandingomm drop the creature she’d been hitting. He didn’t rise. Torrin ran inside, blood dripping from his axe, and he laid a paw on Sayna’s shoulder. “Are you alright?”
“She didn’t hurt me.” Sayna shrugged.
Torrin blinked, then glanced at the body laying just outside the light cast through the doorway. “Oh.”
He coughed into his gloved. “Maybe I overreacted.”
Somehow… that was endearing, in a brutal way. But it was nice to know he cared.
Sandingomm cracked her knuckles, shaking blood from them. “Well. That should be all the guards out here. Unless there are some with the slaves themselves.”
Rose walked into the building, huffing, “Well, we could have asked instead of killing them all.”
Sandingomm glanced at the corpse lying at her paws, and said, “Oh. Yeah… I didn’t think a that.”
From behind her, Duane shrugged. “Sorry.”
Tynek walked inside, still shivering. His dulling eyes brightened as he saw the small fire in the crude hearth. He stumbled over the body of the soldier Sandingomm had killed, and stopped near the merrily crackling flames. Sayna felt some of her worry for him fade. At least it was warm here.
Rose sighed, putting her paws on her hips. “I suppose you ruined all this armor too?”
Sayna glanced at the guard pinned to the wall… his armor was no good. The one Torrin had dealt with lay face down in frost-coated mud, blood pooling around her. Sandingomm picked up the one she’d bludgeoned to death with her fists, frowning, “He did bleed some… I donno. Maybe we could use it.”
From what Sayna could see, he’d bled a sight more than ‘some’. Duane shook his head. “Mine are a mess too.”
“Honestly!” Rose clicked her tongue, and walked over to examine a table in the corner, one that seemed mostly covered in dirty dishes and tankards.
Brek came in, his sword drawn, but he sheathed it soon after. Spring came last, and she shut the door most of the way. After a moment’s hesitation, Brek joined Rose at the table. Sayna smiled a bit… hopefully those two would start regularly talking again.
“Sayna, please stand by the fire.” Sayna looked up at Torrin as he pulled her toward Tynek. He shook his head, blue eyes worried. “You’re shaking.”
Was she? It didn’t feel too bad. But the fire was pleasant, so she didn’t complain.
Sandingomm and Rupert where arguing over the usability of the battered-faced guard’s armor. Sandingomm claimed it was fine, while Rupert contended that it looked like the wearer’s nose had been broken… because that was what had occurred.
“Oh, stop it you two.” Rose suddenly spoke above their voices. “You’re in luck, despite your murderous tendencies.”
She held up a bowl. “It’s dried some, but I think I can get it going again.”
Brek took it as she set it in his paws and began digging through what was on and around the table. “Now if I can just find some water…”
“I’ll get some.” Spring said from the doorway, and with the creak of old hinges, vanished into the night.
Rose shook her head as she searched. “Did they drink anything but ale?” 
That was a valid question. They likely hadn’t, if Sayna knew a thing about Greeneyes. 
Spring returned moments later with the water, and Rose poured a bit into the bowl. She grabbed a spoon from the table and after some mixing and adding water several times, she carried the bowl over to Rupert. “Try this.”
 
He dipped his gauntlet in the bowl, before reaching over his shoulder and smearing green over his pauldron and across his chestplate. It was somewhat more runny than the paint on the armor of the dead guards, but it was far better than nothing. Duane did the same thing to himself, before Sandingomm said, “I guess we’d better be goin’.”
She met Sayna’s gaze. “We got a castle ta break inta.”
Sayna nodded, with a slight shiver. Torrin frowned, but he didn’t argue at least. There really was nothing to argue about. She smiled at him as best she could with how violently her teeth still wanted to chatter, and said, “I’ll be ok.”
He sighed, smirked wryly, and said, “I know.”
Tynek still huddled close to the fire, shivers wracking him every so often. Sayna frowned. She walked to him and gave him a quick hug. “Stay as warm as you can.”
The cold bit like knives, cruel and sharp, and that was for her. She couldn’t imagine how terrible it must be for him. He nodded, and returned her hug. Then she stepped back and hurried to Sandingomm’s side, trying to keep her trembling at bay. Sandingomm frowned, but nodded and walked from the guardhouse, into the night. Sayna stopped near Brek, still by the table, and gave him a hug big enough to lift him off the floor.
“Stay alive, Brek.” 
After a moment, he hugged back as he whispered, “I’ll try.”
Sayna set him down, then turned to Rose and hugged her next. “You too.”
Ignasa, I beg you to not let Marshank repeat itself.
Rose smiled as she said, “I’m more worried about you. But I will… Ty’s here. It’ll be alright.”
“Lady Sayna.” Spring said, from where she stood near the door. “This may all be very touching, but we need to go.”
Sayna nodded, and clasped Rose’s shoulder for a moment. As she walked through the open door, out onto the creaking step, a flash of movement in the guardhouse made her pause. Torrin crossed the room quickly, stepping over two bodies to do so.
“Sayna…” He paused, just a pace or two away. 
He took a deep breath, and then leaned forward and kissed her. Sayna blinked, then relaxed a little and returned the sentiment. Torrin pulled away, saying gently, “Ignasa go with you.”
Sayna swallowed, nodded, and said, “And may he light your paths.”
She didn’t look back. She imagined both Rose and Brek would be staring, but oddly, she didn’t care. She hurried down the steps, past Spring and to Sandingomm’s side. “Lead the way.”
Sandingomm did, and she didn’t say anything until they made it around the western side of the slave pens and to the west wall of Theas-Lidir. The moat curled close here, leaving a small ridge of rock that was the foundations of the walls themselves. It was small enough only one of them could walk on it at a time. Spring went first, then Sandingomm, then Sayna. The two vermin followed after. As they cautiously made their way along the old rock ridge, Sandingomm grinned at Sayna, whispering, “So ya two is kissin’ in public now?”
Sayna tried to keep the heat from her cheeks. There was no reason to be embarrassed about it, after all. “Yeah. I guess.”
“Ya seemed ta like it an awful lot fer just a ‘ya guess’.”
Sayna pinned her ears in unison with a likely excessive eye roll. “Of course it’s more than that, I’m just not used to talking about it.”
“Quiet, you two.” Spring hissed from in front of them, shooting a glare over her shoulder. “Now is really not the time.”
Sandingomm snickered, and Sayna held in her shivery sigh of relief. They’d gotten aways along the west wall now, and Sayna asked, “Are we close?”
Spring looked pointedly at Sandingomm, who shrugged. “Should be, I dunno.”
“Really?” Spring grumbled. 
Sandingomm held up her paws. “Gingi read this ta me from a book, ok? S’not like I’ve been here in thirty-five years, see?”
Sayna held in her groan. The night air bit ever-colder at her frost coated armor. The cold numbness slowly dug into her bones and the tiniest part of her wondered if she would pitch forward off the foundations and sink into the icy water of the moat. And would it really be any colder if she did?
But no. She was fine. She was immortal. She could take it.
Sandingomm stopped, and Sayna only realised that when she bumped into the cat. “What is it?”
“Spring’s found somethin’, I think.” Sandingomm said. 
Sayna peered around the cat, rubbing her arms below her chainmaille sleeves. Spring was sniffing at the wall. Sayna pricked up her ears, asking, “What is it?” 
“Mold.” Said Spring. “And a lot of it. Like there could be a cavity, that water has stagnated in.”
Sandingomm inched closer, feeling about the wall. “I don’t see no door, though.”
Spring sighed. “Trust me, I know a thing or two about rock fortresses near water. My bets are on right here.”
Sayna squinted at the wall, running her paw down the ancient stones. Her guantlet caught in a groove, and she looked closer, making out carvings. They were faded by time, almost seeming to melt into the rocks themselves. And they weren’t the old script she was used to, but she recognized some as being similar to the writing in Aileen’s journal. Sayna glanced at the otter and cat, and said, “Spring has a point. There are old runes here, we should look closer.”
Spring was tapping a claw to the rocks, and she suddenly paused, looked at Sandingomm, and then back at the wall. Then she began running her paw over it at the level a cat might put a doorknob.
Sure enough, her claws caught on a rock that was much smaller than the others. It slid back, and shimmering brightly in the moonlight, Sayna saw the metal of a single large keyhole.
“A key?” Spring sighed. 
Sayna realized it only made sense. And locking the secret entrance to one’s castle seemed imperative, though inconvenient for trespassers. Which they unfortunately were. Sandingomm scowled, and said, “I didn’t bring my lockpicks.”
Sayna leaned forward. “I mean. I have a magic sword.”
Spring nodded, pulling Sandingomm to the other side of the door. “Have at it.”
Sayna walked to stand where she thought the door to be, though with the rocks she assumed covered the actual entrance, she couldn’t be sure of its dimensions. She drew her sword, biting her lip at how bright it instantly became. This… hadn’t been designed for stealth missions.
She sucked in a breath and pressed the tip of her blade to the metal of the lock. 
It melted. For a few seconds the sword stayed there, and then the metal of the keyhole gave way like butter, turning red and dripping viscously down the rocks below it. It hardened there, in strings of molten iron.
As it did, Sayna’s sword slid deeper into the wall without a shred of resistance, all the way to the hilt. With a start, she pulled it back, and stepped over to Spring and Sandingomm as the wall groaned ever so slightly. Then a section of it pivoted outwards, revealing a black maw of an entrance. 
Sayna quickly sheathed her blade, plunging the surroundings into dimness and waiting for the alarm to be raised at any moment. Sure enough, as Sandingomm stepped into the tunnels, Spring looked up at the walls. And as she listened, Sayna could hear confused voices of guards talking on the parapets. Spring scowled, ordering, “Get inside.”
Sandingomm hurried deeper into the musty blackness smelling of long-stagnant water, and Sayna followed her, each step a gentle splash in an inch or so deep pool.
The air in here felt as thick as a quilt, and smelled of decay. More splashes rang out as Sandingomm’s two soldiers followed, and Spring came last. She pulled the door shut, and then said, “I need a light.”
Sayna drew her sword, and the surroundings came to life in the brilliance. Tall, rocky walls, and a stone ceiling high above. It was hardly a wide passage, and from all Sayna could see, it wasn’t a long one either. In fact, she could easily make out a solid wall not five feet away. All she could hear was Spring fumbling with the latch she’d destroyed, trying to get the door to stay closed again. That and the slosh of each step anyone took.
Sayna looked down at her paws, noting the splotches of black along the floor and running up the walls. The smell made her want vomit, but she held it down with a shivering swallow. Sandingomm made a face, and then sneezed. 
Her ferret soldier, Duane, looked about as sick as Sayna felt. 
Spring walked past them, and when she left the door, it stayed shut. Something around the melted keyhole glimmered in the blue light of her sword, and Sayna was fairly sure the otter princess had somehow wired the door closed. Spring coughed, saying, “This mold is harmful to breathe. It’s one of the reasons we left the old halls… come. Let us see if we can get out of this passage.”
She began feeling about the far wall, likely looking for some way to open it as there had been on the outside.
Rupert was looking up at the ceiling, and he muttered, “We have to be inside the wall itself.”
Sayna realized in a flash of understanding, that he was right. This tunnel cut straight through the outer wall of Theas-lidir. She stared up at the wall opposite the one they’d come in. “The original occupants had to have kept this secret perfectly. Where did you even read about it?”
“Oh, I don’t remember what it was called.” Sandingomm said. “Gingi had it… I think Brek found it or somethin’.”
Spring glanced back. “Hush. I can hear through part of this wall, I’m sure the same is true for Tsarmina’s soldiers.”
Sayna slipped past Sandingomm, and pressed her ear to the wall where Spring stood. Sure enough, she could hear sounds, albeit very muffled. And after a moment, she recognized them. Stamps of hooves, gentle nickers… the sounds of horses.
Rupert had joined them, and he drew back from the wall, saying, “Ranulf was praised for his cavalry.”
“So this leads inta the stables?” Sandingomm asked.
Sayna felt one eyebrow raise. “What did the book say?”
There was a long silence, and then Sandingomm shrugged. “Uhm… I dunno. The entrance seemed like the most important bit ta remember.”
Spring snorted, as she worked on the door. But moments passed, and it didn’t swing open. After a bit, Spring grunted, and stepped back. “Sayna? Would you be so kind?”
Sayna looked down at the transparent blue flames flowing along her blade, and asked, “If I stick this through their wall, won’t they see it?”
Spring shrugged. Duane coughed. “I just want outa this place.”
Sayna couldn’t argue that. The air here was no warmer than outside, and it was far harder to breathe. In fact, she was beginning to feel dizzy… now that she properly considered it. The back of her throat was growing numb.
Sandingomm kept sneezing, and Rupert was itching at his arms. Duane coughed again, and again, and it was getting rapidly wetter-sounding. Spring held a paw against her stomach and nodded to the door. “It’s worth the risk. We can’t stay here.”
Sayna sighed, and felt the tickle of a sneeze growing. She saw the latch here, a bar through a metal piece set solidly in what looked like a wrought iron door. As it was, she didn’t need to plunge her sword through any part of the door. A simple cut to the bar released the lock. The door didn’t move though, and as Spring pushed on it, coughing softly, it didn’t budge. The otter stepped back, voice sounding far more nasally than moments before. “It’s jammed by something.”
Duane and Rupert both tried separately, then together. But the door only inched outwards, and with a frighteningly loud groan.
Sandingomm turned to Sayna. “Kin ya run yer sword along the crack tween the door an’ the wall? Maybe loosen it up?”
Sayna frowned. “I think that would be more likely to weld it shut permanently.”
Sandingomm sighed, sneezed, and leaned against the door, pushing her shoulder against it. The groaning began once more, but it soon gave way to scraping, and a sudden tremendous crash as the door opened almost two full feet.
Surprised voices came from beyond it, and on a hunch, Sayna dashed forward, grabbing the broken latch. She pulled the door shut, hissing, “Shh! Be quiet!”
Duane covered his mouth with both paws. Sayna held the door firmly closed as she listened through it, hearing the voices of guards. 
“Ben! Ben, come lookit this! This whole rack of saddles jist up an’ fell over!”
There were scuffling steps, and from behind her, Sayna heard Sandingomm sneeze into her paws. From outside the wall, in Theas-lidir, another voice spoke. “Blasted ghosts.”
The first guard sounded unimpressed. “Ghosts? It ain’t ghosts ya idjit, somethin’ pushed a rack a saddles over!”
“Yeah.” Said Ben. “Ghosts.”
“Ya realmless fool!” The first soldier yelled, as Sayna heard the stamp of metallic boots. “That’s a huge shelf!”
“So?” Asked Ben. “I guess it was a big ghost.”
Sayna could hear the growl of the first guard; he must be directly on the other side of the wall from her. He snapped harshly, “Come out ya coward! The longer ya hide the worse it’ll be fer ya!”
Sayna didn’t move. And neither did a single creature behind her, though Duane’s breath rattled softly in his throat. They needed to get out of here, and soon. Sayna’s throat was starting to burn more incessantly. 
“I ain’t kiddin’!” The first guard barked. “Come out with yer paws up!”
Ben spoke from somewhere farther off. “Oh come off it Cal, it’s just them ghosts again. We’ve got a job ta do, ya’ve thrown us off our patrol. The Lord’ll be mad. An’ the ghosts don’t hurt nothin’, but Ranulf’ll have us flogged.”
“Blast it!” Sayna flinched as Cal’s paw clashed into the wall just outside the door, on it, in fact. “This ain’t the work a ghosts! Them things just wander a bit… realms below they walk through stuff!”
Sandingomm wheezed a bit, whispering, “We have ta get out of here.”
Sayna looked at the cat, wincing as she saw Sandingomm’s eyes and nose were running, and she looked ready to wretch on the floor at any second. A glance around proved she seemed the worst off of any of them. Her paw was pressed against the wall as she clutched the other over her stomach.
Sayna took a deep breath, and made a likely stupid desision. 
She shoved the door open.
It swung wide with a shocking lack of resistance, considering how it had behaved the first time they’d tried to open it. And it smashed into an armored creature’s face, sending him stumbling back. Sayna slashed with her sword, and the soldier named Cal hit the ground in two pieces. She caught sight of the other one, Ben, a second later. He stood on the opposite side of a large wooden shelf that leaned haphazard against the far wall, saddles and other tack strewn below it. And he just gaped, frozen, a spear hanging limply from his paw.
Sayna lunged for him, knocking him back against the wall nearest him, the one with the door to the outside stable. 
She kicked that door shut as she pinned her sword across the soldier’s throat.
“Please!” 
His cry wasn’t loud, but it made her pause, where she planned to slice his head off.
“Please…” He whispered, staring up at her. “Great queen a the forests… spare me.”
Sayna blinked down at the soldier. Ben. A rat. She could hear the others coming in behind her, and she asked, “What?”
“I know ya.” His voice trembled. “One a the golden ones. One that we whisper the tales a… please don’t kill me.”
For a moment, Sayna found herself silent from the shock of it. And she stared into the rat’s brown eyes, which were now glossy, like he held back tears. He didn’t scream for help, and he didn’t resist, though the fur of his neck was turning black, singed from the flames of her sword. 
“Why?” 
Sayna’s question honestly surprised her. But she asked it anyway. “Why should I spare you? Would you have spared me?”
He closed his eyes then, wilting against the wall. Finally he simply said, “I’ve a kit on the way. I’d like ta meet ‘em. That’s all… please?”
Sayna sighed, as Spring hissed, “What are you waiting for, kill him!”
Ben shivered, and Sayna gave Spring a slow glare. Then she said softly, “No. I don’t think I will.”
She took a step back, and the rat sank against the wall, clutching his throat. Sayna frowned, saying, “Someone tie him up.”
Rupert hurried to obey, grabbing a lead rope off the floor and beginning to tie Ben’s paws and tail securely. Spring looked incredulously on, asking, “What’s that for?”
Sayna ignored the otter princess for the moment, keeping the point of her sword trained on Ben’s chest as Rupert bound him. “Listen here, Ben. I’ll give you one chance to live to see that kit of yours be born, understand?”
He nodded wordlessly as Rupert finished trussing him up. Sayna lowered her sword once it was done.
“You will tell me the layout of this castle, of the patrols, and exactly which room Tsarmina is in. In return I will protect you when my creatures begin killing every Greeneyes in sight.”
Relief flooded the rat’s features, which upon closer inspection, she found he must be near her own age. He sagged in his bonds, bowing his head low, and murmuring, “Thank you, golden queen.”
“Sayna.” She said, as she heard someone shutting the tunnel door behind her.
Ben looked confused. “What?”
“I am Sayna, daughter of the house of Luke, Queen of the court of mice in Mossflower.” She lifted her chin. “And I am putting an end to your queen’s reign of terror.”
The rat soldier just dumbly nodded, as Rupert asked, “Where should me an’ my mate be headin’ ta take ya two’s positions?”
Ben swallowed, then said, “Diagonal across the courtyard, up the stairs, ‘round the parapets once, full circle. Then we was supposed ta take over in the gatehouse.”
Duane grinned. “Perfect.”
Rupert nodded, then met Sayna’s gaze. “If anythin’ goes wrong or ya hear any comotion, it means he told us false information. I think ya know what ta do then, milady.”
“I’ll run him through and we’ll retreat.”
Ben’s knees were shaking somewhat, Sayna noticed. 
Rupert bowed slightly. “Exactly.”
He nodded to Duane, then flipped his visor down. The ferret copied his older companion, and Rupert cracked open the door and then walked out. With that, the two were gone, closing the door behind them.
Spring was still glaring at Ben. “We should gag him.”
The young rat looked down. “I won’t give ya away. Tsarmina has been no great queen ta me, nor the creatures like me.”
“Even still.” Sayna said, keeping her voice firm, even though she found she believed him. “You are our enemy, in the castle we are infiltrating.”
Spring found some cloths for cleaning saddles, and Sayna made no protest as she gagged the rat. Satisfied that Ben wasn’t going anywhere or alerting anyone, Sayna turned to face the now shut door they had come through as she sheathed her sword most of the way. She left a bit still burning for light as she looked at Sandingomm, leaning against the wall and still sneezing. Slime dribbled from her nose onto her outstretched gloves, and she looked entirely miserable. 
“Sandingomm?” Sayna asked, walking toward her. “Are you ok?”
“Aghe…” Sandingomm’s voice rasped wetly. “Feels like someone scrubbed out me throat with a wire brush.”
She coughed some for having said it, and groaned.
Spring pulled Ben along with her, away from the outer door into the stable. “It’s the mold, and how much there was in such a tight space. It made me sick to my stomach, but nothing worse. Still, some creatures react more than others.”
“Ugghe.” Said Sandingomm, before promptly vomiting on the floor. 
Sayna recoiled back, and Spring sagely nodded. “That should help you start feeling a bit better.”
Sandingomm grunted and dug her claws into the stones of the door. And sneezed. 
Sayna resigned herself to the fact… they weren’t going anywhere any time especially soon. And they didn’t. In fact, Sayna counted about ten minutes that they stood in the near darkness of that tack room. Sandingomm dry heaved a bit at first, before she limped away from the entrance and sat on a fallen saddle.
Sayna listened intently at the door leading into the stable, just waiting for Rupert and Duane to be discovered, waiting for an alarm to be sounded. 
And yet, nothing happened. The quiet was broken only by the nickers and rustles of horses, and the occasional tramp of boots. She wondered how Tynek and Torrin were doing in their part of the plan, but… she heard no alarms. None at all, not even far off, in response to something happening with the slaves. That… wasn’t a good sign. She tried not to consider what it could mean.
Rose and Brek were out there too. 
Sayna began to pace the width of the short room. Seven steps, turn, seven steps, turn again… she tried to focus on her boots instead of the visions of death. Rose had escaped it so narrowly last time.
And last time, Tynek had caused her injuries.
He won’t. He won’t, he’s grown so much… Ignasa, don’t let him. Realms above, below, and unknowns, don’t let him.
She stopped suddenly, and felt tears prick at her eyes.
What would she do if he did?
And it felt like her heart had frozen solid in her chest, a heavy, sharp piece of ice. A tear trickled down her cheek as she swallowed painfully. Last time, she’d wanted to kill him. 
But he was her brother, just as Rose was her sister. And she wanted to save them equally as much. In that second, it hit her, like a ton of bricks dropped onto her head. She could no longer choose one over the other.
Oh Ignasa, I beg you to protect them.
It wasn’t a voice in her head, like she’d heard some say it would be. Just a thought, a tickle. Did she really think he wouldn’t?
She took a shivering breath. Give them your strength.
Sayna noticed Spring looking at her, while she still held onto the guard. She gave the otter princess a shaky smile, as she mentally added, Give me your strength. For I am a weak mortal, weaker than many.
And yet stronger than some.
Sandingomm suddenly stood, saying, “I’m feelin’ better.”
Sayna breathed out an audible sigh. “Good.”
Sandingomm rubbed her stomach, asking, “Where’s our diversion? Ain’t they got those slaves riled up yet?”
Sayna chewed on her lip as Spring grumbled. “They should have.”
Ben, the guard, made a noise through his gag, and Spring glared daggers at him. He looked to Sayna with pleading eyes, and after a moment's pause, she walked over. Spring said nothing as Sayna loosened Ben’s gag, and pulled it around his chin. “You have something to say?”
He nodded. “Thank you, golden one. Yes, the circuit your friends went on won’t take much longer than the time that’s already passed… they’ll be arrivin’ in the gatehouse bout now.”
“How many guards are usually stationed there?” Sayna asked.
“Twenty.” Said Ben. “And your friends have a fifteen minute break there before they’ll be expected to move on.”
Sandingomm switched her tail. “We need a distraction now.”
Sayna pinned her ears from the stress of it all. Rupert and Duane couldn’t fight off twenty guards on their own.
“I know, but what are we supposed to do?” Her voice felt strained in her own ears.
Sandingomm looked around the room for a moment as Spring gagged their rat companion again, though Sayna noticed she didn’t seem quite as rough this time. Sandingomm’s blue eyes suddenly began to sparkle with what Sayna was fairly sure was mischief. “I’ve got a really great idea.”
Sayna grimaced. “Why am I nervous about that, Sandingomm?”
She could only recall all the rest of Sandingomm’s ‘really great ideas’. She swallowed, and sighed. “What is it?”
“We open all the stall doors.” Said Sandingomm.
Oh. That wasn’t so drastic…
“And we set the stable on fire!”
Sayna held in her groan. She’d been wondering if they could avoid fire this time around, but apparently not. Ben, bound and gagged as he was, made a muffled sound of shock. Spring just slowly nodded. “Yeah… that might work.”
Not more fire…
And yet Sayna found herself nodding. Because if their first plan had fallen through, they’d simply have to work with what they had.
Spring glanced at the door, and then pushed Ben in Sayna’s direction. “I’m stealthy. I’ll open the doors. Watch him.”
With that she hurried from the room too swiftly for Sayna to even protest. By the time she’d opened her mouth, the door from this small tack room into the stable was swinging shut in Spring’s wake.
Sayna sighed, and looked at Ben, who was staring between her and Sandingomm. Sandingomm was rubbing her paws deviously, and appeared to be feeling much better. It was as though the very idea of destruction revitalized her. Sayna just found herself forcing down her shudders at the thought of flames.
And remembering how it felt when flames had seared and bubbled her flesh… and just how close they had come to burning out her left eye… it made her skin crawl.
If I survive this war, I am so very done with fire.
She looked at Sandingomm, and nodded once. “Let’s do it. Where do we hide while it goes up in flames? We won’t be able to stay here.”
Sandingomm sagely nodded, and began poking about the room, clambering over saddles and crates as she did so. Sayna looked at Ben, who rapidly shook his head. She shrugged. “Trust me, it’s not my first choice.”
“It is mine!” Said Sandingomm, almost interrupting herself. “Oh look, a window.”
Sayna nodded that Ben should follow her, and he actually did as best he could, no dragging required. She walked over to where Sandingomm was carefully opening a set of previously unnoticed shutters. Sayna quickly let her sword slide into its sheath to extinguish it’s flames as cold, faint moonlight streamed into the room. Sandingomm looked over the sill, though Sayna was too short, so all she could see was the wall of Theas-Lidir towering above them. 
The door from the stable opened, and Sayna wheeled around as Spring whispered, “It’s just me.”
She looked at the window, and nodded. “That’s perfect. Sayna, go set the straw on the floor ablaze, that should do it.”
Sayna took a deep breath, nodded, and strode for the door leading into the stable. She didn’t let herself pause, wouldn’t give herself time to think or consider. This ends now.
The stable was a long, narrow building with two sets of stalls and a corridor running through it. Every single stall hung open, though only a few horses were ill-mannered enough to begin walking into the aisle. Sayna drew her sword, and some of the animals snorted or stamped their hooves. Most of them looked at her now.
Straw and years worth of dust coated the stone floor completely. The perfect fuel… a single spark could likely bring this place down. 
Sayna sucked in a deep breath of grain and manure, and then held her blade to the dried grasses on the ground. Flames flickered to life in seconds. She pressed the sword against the worn wood of the nearest stall to her right, and it caught nearly as quickly. Then she repeated the process with the stall to her left.
The fire began to ring the tack room doorway and a matter of moments. Even as Sayna sheathed her sword and turned to run, flames began licking their way up the posts of stalls toward the wooden roof. 
Her shadow streaked long and black across the floor as smoke hit her nose and her surroundings lit up like midday. Behind the growing crackle of flames, she could hear the whinnies, neighs, and thuds of nervous hooves. Sayna leapt over a fallen box on the tack room floor, and was in time to see Sandingomm toss Ben through the window like he was a potato sack.
Sayna vaguely noted there was no tremendous clash of steel from his armored body hitting the courtyard stones. Sandingomm vaulted through the window in the next second, and Spring followed without hesitation. Sayna leapt onto a saddle, then jumped to several crates near the window. She threw herself out the small opening as the crackle was fast approaching a roar.
She landed with a thump, and slid backwards down the pile of hay that had broken her fall. Sayna came to a stop flat on her back in the courtyard, just a little dazed. And it was an especially disorienting position to be in as soldiers started to notice the burning stable.
Sayna rolled onto her stomach and pushed her torso off the ground as shouts of dismay rang from the walltops.
Paws grabbed at her shoulders, and Spring dragged her upright, before pulling her along. Sayna stumbled after the otter princess, glancing over her shoulder in time to see part of the stable roof burst into flames. The orange fire already licked through some of the windows. 
A hapless soldier pulled the stable doors open, and Sayna watched him be trampled by a veritable stampede of frightened horses.
There hadn’t been rain in months. That stable roof had to be as dry as bones in the great desert. 
She drew in a sharp breath and caught up to Spring as they dashed along the shadow of the wall, completely unnoticed. The cries and orders were hardly directed at them. 
Sayna glanced to the side, noticing Sandingomm dashing along like an extra dark shadow. And she felt a bit of unexplainable relief when she noticed the cat dragged Ben along by his rope. At least they hadn’t abandoned the helpful guard on a haystack that would have been his funeral pyre. Dying in fire had to be the worst way to go. Anyway it was worse than being stabbed, and Sayna felt she had enough experience to safely make that assessment.
Spring let go of Sayna as she glanced at her, and evidently decided she could run on her own. All three of them dashed across the courtyard toward the darkest shadows where the wall of the inner keep met the outer wall. Ben just clashed along the ground in Sandingomm’s wake.
Sayna slid to a stop as they reached the wall, and she was in time to see the gates of the main castle flung open as creatures poured out into the courtyard, most carrying pails for water. Sandingomm plopped Ben down in the corner between walls, and Sayna could see her sharp white grin in the moonlight.
“That went better than expected.”
She sounded incredibly pleased with herself. 
Spring nodded. “Good thinking.”
Sayna stared at the main gates as the fire blazed ever higher, lighting the courtyard and the chaos within like day. She willed the portcullis to lift, the drawbridge to slam down. Indigo would come charging through with eight hundred soldiers as soon as it did… but it didn’t move.
Sandingomm pulled Ben to his boots and yanked the gag from his mouth. It wasn’t as though any calls for help he made would be heeded at this point anyway. The rat gasped, whimpering softly, “Ya creatures is all insane!”
“Oh yeah we is.” Sandingomm nodded firmly. “Shame on me if’n I’m anythin’ less.”
She grinned wolfishly at him. “Now where’s Tsarmina? I want her head on a spike afor sunrise. Cause this is me castle and she’s trespassin’.”
Somehow, and really, Sayna wasn’t sure how, Ben’s eyes widened even more as he stammered, “Yer castle?”
“I’m the real queen, not that sad excuse primpin’ on the throne.” 
Ben gaped for a moment, before he slowly straightened up. And then he whispered, “Yer king Keir’s daughter, aren’t ya?”
Sayna froze. Even Spring’s look of annoyance faded. Sandingomm nodded, after a pause. “I am.”
“Me mother whispered tales a the old days ta me when she’d rock me ta sleep.” Ben said, awe creeping into his voice. “She said the old kings’d come home and set things right, back like they once were. It’s… really ya? Yer really back?”
“Ya bet I’m back.” Sandingomm grinned.
And backlit as she was by a blazing fire, yelling creatures and screaming horses, Sayna did imagine that came off far more terrifying than encouraging. Yet Ben just dropped to his knees, bowing until his shoulder-length hair dragged the ground. 
“Me queen. I give ya my loyalty, if you’ll have it. Sullied as it is.” 
Sandingomm blinked, then crossed her arms as a grin tugged at her lips. “Wull I donno. Tell me where Tsarmina’s hiding her sorry backside, and I’ll put it inta consideration.”
Ben jerked his head up, and nodded. “She’s in the king’s chambers.”
“Yeah I dunno where that is, I ain’t been here since I was three. So you’ll need ta be more specific.”
“At the back a the castle. Past every other defense. Lord Ranulf’s with her, with a good hundred a our strongest.” He stared up at Sandingomm, saying, “I think she knew ya’d come fer her, much as it seemed impossible.”
Sandingomm smirked. “She ain’t wrong.”
Ben glanced at his bonds, and then asked, “Will ya let me fight fer ya?”
“Don’t!” Spring snapped. “He’s been very helpful and I’ll even agree to sparing his life. But you can’t trust him, not with such high stakes.”
Sandingomm paused, then grabbed Ben’s arm.
Sayna blinked, as Sandingomm’s eyes turned into two pools of pure blue light, light that swirled like Bella’s glowing water. She drew her paw back as her eyes faded back to normal. Then she unsheathed the dagger at her side. 
Ben just stared, mouth agape, as she hacked the rope binding him apart. Sandingomm smirked as they fell away. “Oh I’d disagree there, lady Spring.”
Spring opened her mouth, but she didn’t have time to say anything. 
For added to the chaos of the courtyard, there was a sudden clanking, then a monumental and resounding thud.
Sayna wheeled around to face the main gate, and was in time to see the portcullis raising at a rapid pace. Most of the soldiers in the courtyard didn’t even seem to take notice of it, and the ones who did just appeared confused. A few even rushed forward, pails in paw, probably to attempt to fill them in the moat.
The stable blazed with the force of a massive bonfire, some flames nearly breaching the walls they burned beside. Horses ran to and fro while soldiers chased them, and some flung water in vain at the inferno. 
Absolute madness, that’s what it was. Sayna found herself rather impressed with the amount of damage they’d caused in such a short period of time.
And then she heard the war cries. 
She looked to the gates as more pounding hoofbeats joined those of the crazed horses in the courtyard. Across the courtyard, Sayna saw Indigo at their armies head, riding a cream-colored horse with twin swords drawn.
The Mossflowrian forces hit the confused Greeneyes like a wave on the shore, and Sayna ripped her sword from its sheath in a blaze of light, screaming with them. “For Mossflower!”
She rushed forward, pure energy replacing her slowly dissipating chill.
This was it.
One chance. One hope. One final struggle.
This ends tonight.
She slashed the first Greeneyes she met in two with a blazing sword that shredded armor like silk.
Whatever it takes.
><><
Brek shook himself as Sayna ran from the guardhouse, following the infiltrating group into the night.
He doubted he’d ever get used to his sister openly kissing anyone.
Brek realized his gaze must look somewhat betrayed, because Torrin looked at him questioningly. Brek coughed into his paw and looked away. Yes, Torrin was a perfectly reasonable creature, Brek even liked him, for as much as he knew him. But it was still uncomfortable to watch Sayna kiss him.
Brek started for the door, just to do something. “Come on. We don’t have all night, we need this diversion soon.”
It occurred to him, as he passed Torrin and strode down the rickety steps into a frost-bitten night, that he was the youngest in this group, and technically not the leader.
Yet they followed him, leaving the guardhouse one by one. Tynek was last, and he shut the door behind himself, cutting off the glow of the hearth inside. Brek hurried across the distance between them and the other shadowy buildings nearer the wall. Unlike the guardhouse, no light shone through these structures’ walls, even if they were arguably even more dilapidated.
Brek stopped at the nearest one, outside it. There were about eight of these kinds of buildings, situated in sort of a half-circle, the farthest one backed almost against the wall of Theas-lidir. Brek found himself surprised at the lack of fences or barriers… maybe Ranulf kept his slaves chained? But Brek saw no other reason they hadn’t already bolted, with the lack of guards. A simple moat wouldn’t keep them, and certainly not in summer when the water grew warm. 
Tynek walked past him, though he stopped nearby. And Brek decided to let him do the leading from this point on. He still wasn’t sure what to think of the mouse, but he did owe him his life. Brek supposed they could build from there.
Tynek just stood there for a moment, staring at the buildings, the night breezes ruffling his messy golden hair. Brek saw both the older mouse’s paws clench.
He glanced at Tynek’s face, and noted his clenched jaw. Rose walked to his side and laid a paw on his arm, and he looked to her, and seemed to relax. She smiled up at him, saying, “You’re here to save them this time, Ty.”
For once, Brek didn’t feel the constant cringing beneath his fur that he did whenever Rose showed affection for Tynek. Sayna seemed to trust him, and he’d saved Brek even after he’d been none too friendly towards him. So maybe… Tynek really hadn’t meant to hurt Rose at all. Maybe it was nothing more than magic grown too powerful, and Brek did know better now, what that was like. And he’d only ever used pure magic. He couldn’t imagine what it must be like to be born cursed.
Tynek nodded, and he walked to the door of the first shack. He knocked on the door, and his gauntlet made a sharp, ringing sound on the worn wood. It was loud enough to startle Brek, and make him jump.
A paw was laid on his shoulder, and Brek glanced up at Torrin. The halfblood offered him a little nod, before letting go. And Brek swallowed, and nodded back. They were in this together.
Tynek had stepped back nearer them, and Brek watched as the door cracked open, and several doors of the nearest building’s did as well. 
The first creature to appear from the darkness was an otter. He seemed better fed then some slaves Brek had seen. And he was better dressed too, his simple gray tunic and trousers bore no massive rips or stains. Most shocking of all, was the thin gray cloak tied around his shoulders. It was short, yes. But even Brek, manager of all Gingivere’s affairs and master of his slaves, had never been permitted to wear a cape of any kind.
The otter wrinkled his nose, after a moment of observing them. “You ain’t soldiers.”
He spoke with a vermin accent. 
Tynek crossed his arms. “No. They are dead. We are here to set you free.”
Brek wasn’t sure what Tynek had been expecting, maybe joy, or excitement, or wonder… any of the normal reactions one might assume would come from a prisoner set free. That wasn’t what happened, and a cold feeling had started to grow in Brek’s gut. This otter, he looked young. Maybe twenty, or younger. Many slaves looked older than they were, from hard labor, from their lives being used up.
The otter took a step back, and he honestly looked afraid. He stared at them, as Brek saw several faces of other slaves appear behind the otter.
“What… do ya speak a?” The otter sounded hardly pleased. In fact, he looked like he wanted to hide. 
Brek took a step forward to stand by Tynek’s side, where the moonlight lit the surroundings better. He tossed his head, flicking a loose curl from his face. “We’re here to save you.”
The otter froze, and his mouth dropped open. Some of the slaves behind him pushed forward however, and he was shoved down the few steps, out of the shack. He pointed a claw at Brek, exclaiming, “Yer the prince’s pet! Yer a ghost, the queen had ya killed long ago!”
“She wishes.” Brek said, before he thought.
Tynek took a step forward. “Listen. Tsarmina’s reign ends tonight. We are setting you free.”
Brek was fairly certain that Tynek expected a positive reaction to that statement.
He didn’t get it. The silence was nearly complete, until the otter stammered, “Ya can’t kill our queen an’ lord! Who’ll take care of us?”
Tynek seemed taken aback for a moment, before he said, “You will take care of yourselves. You will be free. What do you not understand?”
“Tynek.” 
Brek surprised himself by grabbing Tynek’s arm. He looked up at the older mouse, meeting his confused brown eyes. “They don’t know what freedom is. They’ve never been free.”
Tynek slowly looked up at the growing number of slaves peering out at them, and Brek did too. Most of them looked his own age, but were likely closer to twelve, or even younger. And he was all the more sure of his assessment. “I’d heard the reports. But I didn’t want to believe them.”
Rose had stepped closer, and she asked, “What is it?”
“Ranulf breeds his slaves.” Brek said softly, staring across the short distance to where the poor creatures stood; scared, and stubborn.
From behind and a little to his sides, Torrin snapped, “He does what?”
Brek found it strange how upset Torrin seemed about that, when he’d been a slave. But then, Ripfang always bought or captured his slaves, from all Brek knew. Perhaps Torrin had not realized how demented the Greeneyes had become; the ones who sat idle in their castles and played games with creature’s lives.
Tynek seemed to know, from the look in his eyes. He stepped forward, stopping when the otter and several other slaves backed against their shack, some clambering back inside.
He took a deep breath, and held out his right paw. “Please. I was once a slave too. I grew up knowing no other life. But that is not what you have to be forever, because some creature names themselves your master, or puts a brand on you.”
Brek… wasn’t sure he’d ever heard Tynek say so much at once.
The otter slid his paw up his right arm, and Brek knew what he reached for. Ranulf’s brand.
“I’m lucky.” He said, sullenness growing in his tone. “To have been branded once an’ kept by the same lord. Who are ya ta try an’ take me away… make me fend for meself. Leave us be.”
Tynek stared. Brek found he was less shocked, and more simply falling into despondent acceptance. These slaves weren’t going to be any help, were they?
When Tynek spoke again, his voice had grown sharper, more upset. Almost… hurt.
“I lived this kind of life, and it is no life at all!”
The otter pinned his ears, curling his lip. “Ya really spect me ta beleive that? Look’it yer armor. Yer a lord’s son. Ya ain’t one a us. 
Ya ain’t never been, yer some rich brat an we don’t answer ta ya.”
Tynek took an angry step forward, yanking his right sleeve up. “I was branded by Sildrin Daskar while he still lived. I grew up a slave!”
Brek bit his lip, because he knew what they would see. Perfect golden fur, blemishless like a newborn kit. 
The otter looked unimpressed. The other slaves Brek saw gathering around were no different.
“Liar!” Several accused.
Tynek blinked down at his arm, as if just remembering the new state of it. Then he glared at the onlookers. “I… used to have one!”
The otter, as nervous as he looked, was appearing more and more condescending. “A likely story.”
Brek stepped past Tynek then, because his visage was growing angry. His eyes had yet to begin to turn, but Brek would rather not risk that happening. His lifted his chin, snapping, “I was a slave.”
“Yeah!” A mouse sneered from where he stood behind the otter. “The Prince’s pet. Ya probably ate off his table from silver platters. Ya ain’t one a us. Ya never will be.”
Really, Brek hadn’t expected much else. Because they were right. He wasn’t one of them. He had slept in his own room in the palace, brushed the prince’s hair, and organized his schedule. He’d bowed here and there, and suffered being branded. But even in that, Gingivere had insisted he be given herbs to dull the pain. He was no ordinary slave. He had held his position by choice.
Torrin stepped to his side as he snapped in clear frustration, “Why would you refuse freedom? What could possibly be good enough about this place that you would want to stay here?”
“We’re fed!” A female slave retorted.
One of the mice crossed his arms. “We have a place ta sleep an’ we aren’t often whipped, so long as we obey.”
The otter lifted his chin. “Ya want ta deprive us a our master an’ make us work even harder ta survive. Tell us. If ya kill the lord, will ya feed us, clothe us, an’ give us a roof over our heads? Or will ya leave us ta starve?”
Tynek clenched his teeth, seething, “There is so much more to life than that!”
“Not from where I stand.” Said the otter. “I’m the leader here. If ya kill me lord, what’ll I be then? Go away.”
Tynek just stared. Rose walked to his side and took his arm, rubbing it gently, and Brek found he was actually grateful for it, as Tynek glanced at her, and his posture relaxed. Rose looked to the slaves, saying, “We’re just trying to help you escape.”
The otter bared his teeth. He’d gone from scared, to quite annoyed. “We don’t want yer help, wench.”
Tynek’s eyes turned scarlet in a single blink.
Torrin rushed forward, snarling, “That’s enough from you!”
The otter scrambled back as Torrin advanced on him. “You are obstinate, realmless fools, the lot of you! I spent seven years in chains, longing every day for the chance we offer you now, and it never came.”
“And where’s yer brand?” One of the slaves asked mockingly. 
Torrin grabbed his sleeve, yanking it up to show his seared skin, pale in the moonlight.
And a sudden hush fell over the crowd of slaves, one so quiet Brek could hear Rose’s soft voice as she talked to Tynek. Brek glanced at them, relieved that the red seemed to have faded slightly in Tynek’s eyes.
Finally, one of the slaves, a very young squirrel, spoke up, voice thin in the stillness. 
“Ya survived Ripfang?”
Torrin lifted his chin. “I survived seven years of him, and I was there when he died.”
Brek could see the mistrust and dislike in many pairs of eyes turn to sheer awe. Whispers of ‘impossible’, and ‘fake’ floated about, but none voiced them aloud. For there the mark was, the webbed, healed flesh clearly visible. 
The otter growled at the other slaves around him. “So he’s a deserter, and a revolter. He’s a slave who killed his master… why should we listen to him?”
The otter took a breath and then spit in Torrin’s direction. “Realmess halfblood. Leave us alone.”
Brek winced at the insult. But to his surprise, Torrin barked a laugh. “Halfblood. Even slaves mock me for it.”
Torrin shook his head. “You’re pathetic. You really are. Listen, all of you!”
He held up his paw. “We are putting an end to your lord whether you like it or not, and whether you help or not. There is no stopping what Tsarmina has brought on her own head. So you can either aid your new kings, or hide like cowards. Your choice will be remembered.”
The otter’s distain had melted to fear again. He stood frozen for a moment, before turning and bolting into the shack behind him, shoving creatures out of his way as he ran.
Brek’s heart sank to his boots as many of the slaves murmured, but none moved forward. 
These creatures likely had very little comprehension of what Torrin was saying. One tiny mouse stepped forward, a mouse even smaller than Brek. “So… ya would be our masters?”
Torrin blinked. Several of the other slaves muttered, and Brek heard one near him grumble to his companion, “They’re mice like us, they ain’t better, they should be slaves too.”
Brek had all but given up on a diversion. They’d failed. 
His stomach curdled as he thought of Sayna, practically alone in Theas-Lidir. How afraid she would be. How betrayed she would feel when no slave revolt happened, because the slaves where too stupid and deluded to do anything. 
He’d had a chance to be useful, and he’d failed, thanks to these creatures. 
Sayna would die. Sandingomm… his new queen… would die. And it was all his fault.
But it wasn’t. It wasn’t. This wasn’t something he could control. Brek turned a glare upon the shuffling group of slaves. “We can break all the chains we want, open all the doors in the world, but if this is your mentality, you’ll never be free.”
He spun around on his heel, and stalked away.
“Brek!” Rose called, letting go of Tynek and rushing after him. “What are you doing?”
Brek shot her a glare she didn’t deserve, he was just stretched to the point of breaking. “I’m going to cause a diversion. I’m going to make a way for my queen and our sister to succeed, even if I have to run up to the gates and start screaming.”
Rose grabbed his arm, but Brek pulled away, shaking his head. “I have to do this.”
“I know we have to do something, but you running off and getting yourself killed won’t help anyone.” Rose begged. “Let’s make a plan.”
Something in Brek’s mind twitched. Or maybe it was his soul. “We don’t have time for a plan… they need us now! They’re in that castle, trying to do what they went in for, and we were supposed to…”
Rose darted forward, and hugged him close before he could protest. “I’m worried too Brek. Terrified. But we have to keep our heads. Do you know how angry Sayna would be if I let you run out in front of those gates?”
Brek remained stiff for a moment, before slumping against his sister, and closing his eyes.
“Do you know how upset Gingivere will be if I let Sandingomm die?”
“Uh.” Torrin spoke from behind them. “You two might want to take a look at this.”
Brek looked up, and then turned to face the wall of Theas-Lidir, were Torrin pointed. His mouth dropped open, for the old stones seemed alight from within, and were growing brighter as he watched. If he didn’t know better, Brek would have guessed a massive bonfire had been lit.
“What is happening?” Tynek asked.
Brek looked at him, and just shook his head. The slaves had begun to murmur and some scuttled back into their barracks. Brek’s mind reeled as he attempted to find an answer to Tynek’s question, but he found none.
Torrin actually was the one to suggest a possible reason. 
“Looks like they improvised.”
Brek’s breath caught in his throat as he asked, “Fire?”
“Sayna must hate it.” Torrin said. “We need to go help. It’s not like there’s much to be done here anyway.”
Tynek had walked closer, and he asked, “How do we cross the moat?”
He shivered a little. “I am still cold. I can not do it again.”
Brek gnawed on his lip for a moment, and then started toward the wall. He walked straight into the crowd of slaves, and they parted for him as he drew his sword. As he passed, Brek said, “Any of you who ever did dream of something more than the life you have… go. You are slaves no longer… whether you like it or not.”
And with that he’d passed them, on his trek toward the wall. Sayna had evidently scaled the west wall to the tunnel somehow.
Brek could hear the bootsteps behind him, and he glanced over his shoulder to see Torrin, Tynek, and Rose followed. But not only them. There weren’t many, but a few of the younger, thinner looking slaves had come too. They looked terrified, but determined. Brek fully understood that feeling. 
He turned to face the path ahead, as he was close enough to the base of the wall he could have reached out and touched it. Where the west wall met the moat, Brek could see the foundations of the castle formed a narrow flange, one just wide enough to walk on single file.
Brek leapt onto it, never breaking stride. The moat beside him glowed orange in the firelight beginning to breach the walltops, or nearly. It seemed concentrated on this wall too. What had been lit ablaze this time? The walk was a long one, and thankfully, due to his small size, Brek didn’t have to hug the wall. He simply strode forward while sure determination filled his heart. And somewhere in that walk, as he prayed under his breath for Sayna and his queen, he felt the magic in him stir.
The soft kiss of early summer, like a sunny day after a week of storms, or cold. Like frost thawing in the morning, he felt it wake, and the heavy weight in his chest started to lift. 
Faith wasn’t an easy thing. But it was all he had tonight, on this thin ledge of rock with freezing water on one side, and fire behind the wall on the other. Ignasa was the only one who could make this work out, who could save his sister.
All Brek could do was try his hardest… and what happened would happen.
As he neared the corner of the west wall, Brek realized he could hear the sounds of battle; warcries and clashes. He broke into a run in spite of Rose’s call of protest. He spun around the corner, where the ledge continued on the south side of Theas-Lidir. 
The drawbridge lay down, and from all Brek could see, the portcullis had been raised. 
Sayna had done it. 
Brek threw himself forward then, along the foundations and toward the drawbridge. His boots pounded on the old stones as he ran, focused on where the bridge lay over the ledge he ran along.
The gap there was higher than he was tall, but not by too much. If he jumped high enough…
He reached the base of the gates moments later. Brek leapt up with all his strength, and he just managed to grab the wood of the drawbridge with his left paw. He hung there for a moment, claws digging into the splintery boards as he vainly tried to hoist himself up with a single arm. Teleportation would be very helpful right now. He stared over the old wooden planks, starting to seriously consider that option as his arm began to burn. 
Could he? Germaine said he shouldn’t, that he should rest, and grow more skilled in simple forms of magic. 
But if he fell now, he’d land in the moat.
Paws suddenly pushed up, under his dangling boots. 
Brek scrambled on the drawbridge, flopping on his belly for a moment as he crawled forward on his elbows.
There was a thudding as Torrin vaulted onto the bridge in front of him, drawing his axe from his back in a swirling arch. He looked over his shoulder at Brek, shaking his head. “You have a lot in common with your sister, you know?”
“With Rose?” Brek asked as he forced himself up, and stared what Torrin faced; the courtyard of Theas-Lidir. 
A battlefield.
Even in the raging glow of a burning structure against the western wall, Brek could see the gleaming blue of Sayna’s sword. He couldn’t rightly make her out, just burning blue trails of smokeless fire. 
“I meant with Sayna.” Torrin clairfied. “You’re both passionate. Both strong willed.”
He smiled as Rose scrambled onto the bridge. “You’re both brave.”
Brek blinked as Rose pulled her bow from her back and notched an arrow. Tynek was next, and he seemed startled with the ease in which he joined them. He blinked at his arm for a moment, before he drew his sword, and blue flowed down the blade. 
Several slaves clambered onto the drawbridge after him, and Brek noticed how they gaped into the chaos with fear. Tynek looked at them, and he smiled. “We will take care of this. You may run. You have not been trained, there is no shame in common sense.”
Most of the meager group bolted then and there, running down the drawbridge and toward the surrounding town. Brek had to wonder how far they would really get. 
A total of two stayed, a mouse and a squirrel.
Tynek nodded. “Very well.”
He looked to Rose, and Brek saw how pleading of a look it was. He glanced to Rose too, and she nodded once, her eyes glittering. Then she smiled as best she could, and quietly said, “I know Ty.”
He swallowed, and nodded. Then he turned toward the courtyard, and ran for the battle, his sword a glowing beacon in the semi darkness.
Brek followed him, and Torrin did too. Rose stayed behind them, and Brek didn’t flinch when one of her arrows zipped past his ear, burying itself in a Greeneye’s already damaged armor.
Brek yelled, unleashing his stress vocally. He cut a soldier’s legs and tail out from under them in a precise sweep of his blade, dashing into the fray. This was for Sayna. For Sandingomm. For Gingivere.
Maybe a little of it was for Brek too.
That warmth filled his chest, and flowed in his veins, and begged to be used, to credit it’s creator. 
Brek drew in a breath, cold and smokey, and imagined it flowing down his sword, making flames like Sayna’s sword. No, not flames on the blade… he imagined the blade was nothing but fire. Solid, unstoppable fire.
Could he do it?
No. Brek suddenly knew. He could not. Not alone.
But Ignasa could.
Brek spun perfectly, just as he had in practice with Gingivere, so many times. 
But the sword he brought against the nearest soldier bore no resemblance to the sword Gingivere had given him. What once was steel glowed brilliant blue, as blue as Sayna’s weapon. Except there was no metal beneath it, and it hit the soldier’s side with a shower of sparks, tearing through him with no resistance.
Brek skidded to a stop, gaping down at the fire-blade in his paw. The hilt remained solid, morphing into dancing blue fire that licked up along a blade that no longer seemed to exist.
He jerked his eyes up as he heard Rose cry out, and in nearly the same second, a green-fletched arrow sank into the throat of a soldier aiming to take advantage of Brek’s distraction. She ran to his side then, loading another arrow as she did. “Focus Brek!”
Brek swallowed, and made no argument as a Greeneyes ran at them, and he impaled the creature with another explosion of sparks, like metal on a forge. The much taller creature fell, and Brek didn’t even need to withdraw his sword. Like the flame of a candle, the blade flickered from existence, only to reappear as the soldier hit the ground.
Was he doing that, or…
“Brek!” Rose yelled at him.
Right. Focus. Worry about the magic’s logistics later.
He drew in a breath, and nodded to Rose. “Cover me.”
They stood near the outskirts of the battle, where a great number lay dead or injured, and a few random horses trotted around, aimless and fearful. Rose gave him a wide-eyed stare. “Wait, what are you doing?”
Brek pointed at the main part of the battle, where Sayna and Tynek were, where Torrin had probably gone. “See that Greeneye’s on the gray horse?”
Rose looked along the burning blade, and nodded. “Yes, and?”
“He has a cape.” Brek said, tensing to run. 
“What does that…” Rose began.
“He’s a general.” Brek explained. “I’m going to take him down, that should give us a momentary respite. Shoot anyone in my path that you can.”
Before she could protest again, Brek ran at the hoard of soldiers. This general, Brek found he felt some small amount of remorse for. He was better than most of them. He’d ridden into battle with his troops instead of ordering from behind.
I’m sorry.
He blinked hard as he slashed the first soldier he met in two, and sparks flew, sparks that turned from blue to orange as they sprayed out across the courtyard. 
Once this was over, Brek could spare the tears, but not now. Maybe it was true that war made monsters, and in the same moment, Brek realized how hardened he’d become. 
I do not fight in vain.
And though he knew it was true, as he tore through Greeneyes like a knife through parchment, he could not help but wish he stood by his Prince’s side in his stiff gray uniform, ready to fetch him a book, or tea, or his cloak.
Once, he had thought that life was a stressful one. Now he longed for those simpler times.
Brek’s reality became fire, raining around him as creatures fell before his sword. No blood stained him, for no blood flowed from the cuts he made.
It made him feel no cleaner.
Several arrows dropped soldiers in his path, and Brek found he was immensely grateful to Rose for her help. His thin boots pounded on a slick courtyard, one wet with blood that soaked through his soles. 
The general was shouting orders, one paw gripping his reins and he held a sword in the other. The desperation in his eyes hurt Brek, it truly did.
“War is a messy thing, Brek.”
He could remember Gingivere saying that once, while pondering battle strategies as part of his advanced studies.
Yes. War was a very messy thing.
The general jerked his head up as Brek imagined magic flowing down his legs and making them stronger, stronger than he could ever hope to be. And their eyes met for a second as Brek leapt higher than the general’s horse and him combined, boots trailing the faintest wake of spectral light. The creature raised his sword, but it did him no good as Brek’s fire blade slashed through his metal one as easily as it tore across his throat.
Brek landed hard on his paws as he heard the clash of the general falling from his horse, and the thudding of hooves as the animal galloped off. A sudden hush fell over the courtyard, outside of hooffalls and the crackle of flames. Brek fell to his knees then, staring at his fire-blade as it wavered, and the fire died, fading back to the normal silver of metal. He clutched the hilt close to his chest as tears filled his eyes, and he could not make himself rise.
Yes, war made monsters, and he’d done what he’d had too.
He heard the clashes of steel as swords were dropped, as Greeneyes fell to their knees in surrender. A bleary glance at the inner keep proved it’s gates were shut and barred, shielding the occupants.
But here, in the outer courtyard, the battle was over. 
Brek knew he was pathetic, crying on the ground after he’d been responsible for this part of the victory. He couldn’t help it. He gripped his sword tightly as he sobbed, unable to face how many creatures he’d had to kill in the last few days. 
And once he’d said he’d never be able to kill anyone.
What a liar he was.
A boot stepped near him, but he didn’t look up, because he didn’t really care. A clinking rustle filled the air and arms wrapped around him, pulling him against an armored torso. He could see the golden hair, and he knew Sayna held him even before she spoke. 
“You did a good thing, Brek.”
Good. Brek knew he had. But it didn’t feel good.
Sayna stroked his hair, saying, “You stopped the battle sooner, you saved many lives for that, on both sides. I know it’s hard. I know how it feels.”
He sniffed. “You never hesitate, it doesn’t bother you, because you’re brave.”
“Brek, no.” Sayna grabbed his face in both paws, making him meet her black gaze. “I don’t hesitate because I’m desensitized, because I’ve been deadened to this. That isn’t bravery, it’s brokeness.”
She smiled a smile that Brek could only think of as tired. “Bravery is facing the hardest, most painful thing in the world, and doing it anyway because it’s right. You are the one who’s truly brave.”
Brek stared up at her as Rose knelt on his other side, and she hugged them both. “We’re all brave. And one day soon, none of us will have to kill anymore.”
All Brek could do was grab both his sisters, and nod.
After a moment, Sayna said grimly, “That day’s not here just yet.”
Brek drew in the deepest breath he could, so deep his lungs hurt and his head swam the slightest bit. Then he hugged both sisters for a moment, before grabbing the hilt of his sword and getting to his paws. 
He stared at the closed gates of Theas-Lidir’s inner keep, and the Greeneyes atop the inner wall they still held.
There were shuffles and clinks as Sayna and Rose stood too. 
Brek’s nostrils flared as he said, “Then let’s finish this.”
Because he wanted to see that day of peace. He wanted it more than anything.
==Chapter 62 Below a Scarlet Sky==
Sayna stood a moment after Brek did, looking up at the walltops of the inner keep. There were archers up there, but oddly, they weren’t shooting. And the few left in the courtyard had surrendered the moment their general wasn’t there to give them orders. All told, there just didn’t seem to be much fight left in the Greeneye soldiers.
Sandingomm walked over, and Sayna noticed Ben, following her closely. He didn’t seem excited about being apart from her, which made a lot of sense. 
“So. The kitty ain’t gonna come out, huh?” 
Sandingomm crossed her arms as she gazed up at the battlements. Before Sayna could respond, Sandingomm cupped her paws over her mouth, yelling up at the soldiers, “Yer queen’s a coward! Where is she? Will she fight for ya now that the tables’ve turned?”
No one answered. Sandingomm snorted, after a moment. “S’what I thought. Face it, ya’ve lost.”
Sayna heard the murmurs of the soldiers on the walls, murmurs of fear and despair. And she pitied them, because they had no queen to stand at their head, like she did for Mossflower. They had no leader to suffer for them, or inspire them.
“Tell ya what!” Sandingomm yelled. “If’n ya open those gates now, I’ll spare yer lives.”
In the silence of the soldiers of Mossflower, Sayna listened to the guards on the keep’s walls as they spoke amongst themselves. Finally, one leaned over, calling back, “If ya’d actually spare us, we would. But ya’ve already killed countless Greeneyes over these last days, and let the world remember I fought, an’ didn’t let myself die easy.”
Sayna pitied them more then. But Ben stepped forward, holding up a paw. “Listen ta her, Hawkins! She’s old Keir’s daughter, she’s the rightful queen a vermin, an’ she spared me.”
There was silence for a moment, before the guard on the wall leaned farther over. 
“Bennet? Yer alive?”
“Sure am, thanks ta our rightful queen, an’ no thanks ta the imposter on the throne.”
Sayna looked back up at the soldier, and noted he wore nice armor and a cape… probably a leader of some sort. He gaped down at them for a moment, before slowly straightening up. And just like that, he turned to someone behind him, and Sayna heard his barked order.
“Open the gates!”
A few cries of dismay rang out from around him, but Sayna saw him wheel around to face the dissenters. “What do ya think yer protecting? 
How many more have to die for that witch? Open the gates!”
Sayna glanced around, and she noticed Torrin standing a little behind her. He crossed his arms, smirking, “Well that was easy.”
Sayna could barely believe it, and silently thanked Ignasa that she hadn’t killed Ben when Spring had demanded it. Seconds later, loud clanks filled the night, and moments later the gates of the inner keep opened wide. Not long after, a soldier walked out, the same soldier from the walltops with the cape. He stopped on the steps above the courtyard, looking at Ben and Sandingomm. A moment later he drew his sword, then knelt and held it out, in both palms. 
“Lady Keir. Long had some a us hoped one a the old blood would return.” He bowed his head. “I am sargent Hawkins, and I offer ya me sword.”
He was a weasel, Sayna noted. Or at the very least, he was a mustelid. Some of those species looked quite similar, and in the light of the slowly dying stable fire, Sayna couldn’t say for sure. Still, he was burly like weasels typically were, and he had the fluffy tail.
Sandingomm grinned. She nodded, as he said, “Whatever ya ask, I will do.”
“Secure me castle.” Sandingomm ordered. “And take us ta Tsarmina and whatever lord’s been sittin’ pretty on me throne.”
Sargent Hawkins nodded, then stood, raising his sword and calling to his guards. “All hail the Lady Keir!”
Sayna was fairly sure Sandingomm couldn’t grin any wider than she currently was. But at the same time, she realized that wasn’t a bet she planned to make. Cheers and calls rang from the guards nearby, and Sayna imagined that somewhere in Theas-Lidir, Tsarmina was rabidly shredding something from pure rage.
“All hail the queen!” Someone called from inside the keep.
Sargent Hawkins turned to face them directly. “Your majesty….”
He paused, his gaze lingering on Sayna. 
“Your majesties. Ranulf has two hundred of our best surroundin’ the king’s chambers, where Tsarmina is.”
Sandingomm tapped a claw to her chin, asking, “Think he’ll defect?” 
Hawkins shook his head rapidly. “I highly doubt it. He’s a vassal, he knows he ain’t gonna be spared… too important.”
“Wull maybe he’s wrong.” Sandingomm said.
Ben spoke up. “Ranulf won’t believe yer terms a surrender. An’ he holds no loyalty toward the old days.”
“We will kill him then.”
Sayna turned to gaze at Tynek, who had walked to her side. Blood streaked his armor and ran in tear-like rivulets down his cheeks, though the whites of his eyes were only slightly pink. 
Sargent Hawkin’s stared at him for a moment, and Sayna was fairly sure a shiver ran through the weasel soldier. But he kept his composure. “It will not be easy, sir… sire?”
“Lord Tynek.” Sandingomm supplied. “King a the court a mice in Mossflower.”
Sayna wasn’t sure she would ever grow used to her brother being referred to as Lord Tynek. But then she wasn’t used to the title of lady, either.
Tynek nodded, before laying his paw on the hilt of his sword. “I have my ways.”
Oh yes, he did. Sayna doubted two hundred would be much of a challenge if Tynek unleashed his Bloodwrath. She looked to the sergeant, who just nodded and asked no more questions. From the look on his face, he’d guessed, and was trying to keep his knees from shaking. He just bowed, and said, “I’m uh… sure yer better equipped than most. Er… I can take ya ta the outside. The king’s chambers are a stronghold in their own right, really.”
For a second, Sayna paused. Were they really going to follow a Greeneyes into his garrison? But Sandingomm didn’t hesitate, and neither did Ben. She noticed Rupert had joined them as well, and he nodded to Sargent Hawkins like he knew him. He probably did. Brek bolted after them, rushing to walk by Sandingomm’s side.
And after a glance around, Sayna followed. Tynek soon joined her, and Torrin wasn’t far behind… Rose either. There was a sudden sputtering yell, and Sayna paused, to see Indigo and several of her rabbits chasing them.
“My king, my queen!”
The rabbit bounded to Sayna’s side, snapping, “What are you doing, walking into an enemy fortress without me?”
Tynek didn’t even blink. “I am not concerned.”
“You’re not invincible, my king.” Indigo cautioned. 
As they walked deeper into the torch-lit halls of Theas-Lidir, Sayna couldn’t resist her smirk. “But I am, you know.”
Indigo glared from Sayna, to Tynek, to back at Sayna. “You Lukes really are insufferable.”
Tynek shrugged, and looked to Sayna, walking closer to her. “If they resist, we will Bloodwrath on them, yes?”
Sayna blinked. And she realized she’d never told him. “I…”
She shouldn’t feel so ashamed of chaining her greatest enemy, so why did it feel like she’d betrayed everyone she loved?
She let out a deep breath, and then looked away. “I can’t.”
She’d been avoiding this.
A paw grabbed hers as Torrin pushed between her and Indigo. He smiled a little, encouragingly. And Sayna relaxed some, because at least someone knew, and knew why.
Tynek just looked confused. “How… can you not? What do you mean?”
“I bound her… er… it.” Sayna said, gripping Torrin’s paw. “It can’t torment me anymore. But that in turn means I have no access to its power.”
Tynek stared. In fact, everyone in the immediate area stared, outside of Torrin. He just squeezed her paw a bit.
Indigo’s mouth had dropped open. “You’re… a Bloodwrather who can’t Bloodwrath?”
Sayna fought down the feeling of sickness in her gut. When said like that, it really did make her seem useless. Finally, she nodded. 
“Yes. I suppose I am.”
No one needed to know she held the key to Bloodwrath’s cage lest they demand she unleash it. Not that she even knew how… or cared to learn. She was acutely aware of how confused and concerned everyone seemed. Some looked like they didn’t even believe her. 
She glanced up at Torrin, and he smiled back, and something deep in her soul relaxed. It was fine. She was fine. Everything was better this way.
She lifted her chin. “I am still strong, and skilled. I’m immortal, and I have a magic sword. I am no less powerful for this, in fact, I am better off.”
Sayna glanced over her shoulder, to where Spring and a few mice of her court walked, and they gaped at her. She lifted her chin, and curled her lip. “I am no less a Luke. I am more of one, and I’ll prove it.”
Maybe saying she would prove it was too extreme, but they gazed at her like she was broken, like she said she’d cut off her own arm.
But Bloodwrath was the thing that had broken her. 
She clenched her jaw and Torrin’s paw as Sargent Hawkins led them into a large room with an arched ceiling and a set of huge oak doors in the wall opposite the one they’d come in. There was a distinct lack of creatures in this chamber, and Mossflower’s army filed quickly into it, filling it and overflowing into the hallway behind. 
Sayna flicked an ear nervously, wishing they’d stayed outside in the courtyard. If Tynek Bloodwrathed in here, or anywhere near here… it would be bad.
As Sandingomm and the sergeant began discussing, Sayna wheeled around, looking for Spring. But the otter princess had been lost somewhere in the shifting of the crowd. Sayna swallowed, her mouth feeling dry. She found Indigo in the chaos, thanks to her ears, which stuck out above the crowd.
Sayna shoved her way to the rabbit, calling, “Indigo!”
The rabbit looked around, finally finding her. Torrin, did let go of her paw then, and a part of Sayna wished he hadn’t. She hated being lost in crowds, and the room already seemed to have grown ten times smaller.
“Yes my queen?” Indigo asked.
Sayna shook her head. “Get them out of here… or most of them. Send them out to guard the courtyard, the soldiers, anything. If Tynek uses Bloodwrath here…”
She didn’t have to finish. Indigo’s eyes widened and she wheeled around, beginning to bark immediate orders.
Sayna found herself annoyed that no one had thought of it earlier, but she supposed a lot had happened very quickly. But these creatures had never seen Tynek in full Bloodwrath, and she had.
Still, she supposed that… they didn’t really have a plan anymore. Past their infiltration scheme, there hadn’t really been a distinct course of action, just to somehow kill Tsarmina. So she could understand their soldier’s confusion. Indigo spread the word quickly, in fact, she left with the bulk of the army, probably to take them somewhere. 
As most of Mossflower’s creatures left outside of thirty or so, the room seemed to grow again, the walls that had felt like they were closing in lost their claustrophobic effect.
Sargent Hawkins and Ben stood near Sandingomm, with Rupert and Brek. Sayna decided Duane must have stayed outside. She walked closer to the vermin… and Brek… as Ben said, “Those doors are well fortified.”
“We got magic swords.” Sandingomm waved a dismissive paw.
Hawkins cleared his throat. “Ah I… noticed. But fair warnin’, he’s right. The doors are reinforced with solid iron.”
Sandingomm made her grumpy face. “Tsarmina really ain’t making this easy. How much more a me own castle am I gonna have ta destroy? Ain’t fair, I tell ya.”
She noticed Sayna as she walked closer, and sighed. “Kin ya do yer thing?”
“Sandingomm.” Sayna’s tone of firmness surprised her. “If we storm that hallway…”
She glanced at Ben and Hawkins. “Tsarmina is in a room at the back of it, yes? One that is well secured in it’s own right?”
Both soldiers nodded, Hawkins saying, “Oh, very well secured. The doors are oak and iron as well.”
Sayna crossed her arms. “Right. So what’s to stop Tsarmina from climbing out a window and trying to escape once she decides her soldiers are losing?”
“It… is a purty high drop.” Ben said.
“No, no.” Said Hawkins. “She… er… her highness… has a good point.”
He sounded like he didn’t know Sayna’s title and was praying he’d guessed right. He coughed into a gauntlet, adding, “That cat’s crazy an’ we all know it. She’d try it and injured or not, she might succeed. The last thing we need is her escapin’.”
No. She wasn’t going to escape. 
Sayna clenched her paw over her sword hilt, saying, “The ideal situation would be if we could get into her room at the same time Tynek attacks the guards outside. Is there another entrance?”
Sandingomm wrinkled her nose. “That seems like it’d probably defeat the point a all these security measures.”
Hawkins spoke up. “You are right, Lady Keir. To my knowledge, there is no other entrance.”
Brek had been gnawing on his lip, but now he looked up. “Is there an adjoining room?”
“Er…” Ben said, “Yes, young… master… but there is no door.”
Brek clenched the hilt of his sword, and looked straight at Sayna. “I might not need one.”
For a second, Sayna couldn’t imagine what he meant, and then it hit her like an arrow to the forehead. “The swords!”
She drew hers in a shower of flames, and Hawkin’s staggered back a few steps, though Ben only flinched. The sword that could cut through anything. But would it really be enough? And would they be able to shove part of the wall in enough to make an open before Tsarmina could react?
“Say… Ben.” A grin began spreading across Sandingomm’s face, a wide one. “Is there a room above the king’s chambers?”
As Sayna contemplated that, Ben said, “Wull… yes there is Lady Keir. It’s nothin’ but an attic… a storage space. Ain’t too awful big either. But… yes. What good would that do?”
Sandingomm looked smug. “If’n we cut a hole in her ceiling there’s a chance the bit that falls might hit her.”
Sayna found herself both amazed and also… perturbed. “I swear you are chaos incarnate.”
She sighed. “But you’re right. Wait. How tall is the ceiling in the king’s chambers?”
“Uh… never rightly considered it yer highness.” Hawkin’s said. “But it’s twelve or so feet. No. Probably more. This place was built by cats an all.”
Heights. Of course it was heights. 
But Sayna just sighed. “I’ll do it.”
She was immortal. She could take it. Though admittedly, she was growing a bit tired. Sleeping against the wall of the ancient otter halls hadn’t exactly been comfortable, and it had been a long day. The sooner they dealt with Tsarmina, the sooner Sayna could find somewhere to sleep.
“What are you planning to do?” Torrin asked as he hurried over, Rose and Tynek not far behind.
“Cut open a piece of Tsarmina’s ceiling and hope it drops on her head.”
Sayna hadn’t been feeling cold for awhile, but a bit had seemed to return now that she wasn’t moving. She sheathed her sword and rubbed her arms. Torrin stared at her for a moment. Then he nodded. “You can count me in.”
Rose glanced at Tynek, and said, “Well… I might be able to shoot her through the hole… maybe.”
Tynek frowned. “When Ranulf hears you, he will rush in.”
“He won’t hear us cause yer gonna attack him at the same time.” Sandingomm said, sure of herself.
Tynek blinked, and then nodded. Then he asked, “How will I know when to break down the doors?”
Sandingomm waved a paw. “Oh, well send Ben ta tell ya I guess. Or Brek! Brek, you can do your teleporting thing to tell him faster.”
“I can’t.” Brek shook his head. “I need to learn magic more before trying that again.”
That statement only gave Sandingomm a moment's pause, and she shrugged. “Wull, ya kin run the normal way I guess. Less a course, ya want a piece a Tsarmina like I do. In which case we’ll send Ben ta give the signal.”
Sayna shook her head. “He can help with the floor. Brek, I saw what you did with your sword out there. I could use an extra set of paws since Tynek has to be out here.”
She glanced around in the moments of silence that followed, confirming, “This is what you all actually want to do? Cut open a ceiling?”
There were shrugs and nods all around, and Torrin said, “Well I don’t have a better idea.”
Sayna sighed. “Then I guess we’re doing this.”
She turned to Ben, and Hawkins. The sargent just stared at them like they’d all lost their minds, and really, was he wrong? Ben responded with a shaky nod, and Sayna looked at Tynek. “You can deal with things down here? Including getting our soldiers to safety before...”
Her brother lifted his chin, and gave her a firm nod.
And Sayna decided to trust that he did. “So we’re going.”
“Hold up a moment.” Said Sandingomm.
She walked to the doors into where the soldiers claimed Ranulf was, and she kicked at them several times, causing resounding booms. Then she shouted, “We can do this the easy way or the hard way Ranulf! Surrender an’ turn her over, an’ I’ll give ya yer life!”
There wasn’t the slightest response.
Hawkins walked over, and pounded on the door. “They’re serious sir. I’d do what she says.”
After a moment, there was a sputtered yell from inside, a male voice. “Hawkins, you traitor! I’ll come out for no one, I’ll walk to no chopping block! If you want me, you’ll have to break down those doors!”
With that Sandingomm looked to Ben. “Well, lead the way.”
He hesitated for a moment… Sayna had to imagine this was a very odd day for him… then he nodded and motioned they follow. He led them to a door in the side of this room that Sayna hadn’t noticed, and as he did, he looked back at Hawkins. The sergeant just shrugged. If Ben was expecting orders from him, he wasn’t getting any.
After a moment’s pause, Ben opened the door, and it led to a staircase. Not a large one, in fact, it was narrow enough they had to go up one at a time. Sayna found it safe to assume this was designed for staff, not royalty. 
The staircase was a loose spiral, and on her way up, Sayna passed a few windows. She looked out at the still dark sky, and had to assume it could only be a few hours before sunrise. The stars still glittered in the inky blackness of night. 
Ben led them into a comparatively low-ceilinged room, full of crates and furniture draped in spectral cloths. All was shrouded in shadow, for very little light shone in the small, paned windows coated in years of grime.
Sayna drew her sword and sharp shadows cut across the floor as a result of its light.
The room was huge, though not particularly tall. Everywhere Sayna looked, she could see stored pieces of castle life, long forgotten and left to sink below layers of dust. How many wondrous artifacts might remain here? Among all this clutter, Sayna had to imagine some things had been missed.
“So, where should we start cuttin’?” Sandingomm asked Ben.
Sayna shook herself back to reality. Now wasn’t the time to worry about the past. 
Ben walked deeper into the room, counting steps under his breath as he went. Soon, all the members of the party followed, skirting dust-caked crates and fine sofas draped in stained old linen. Sayna noticed the empty webs of last summer’s spiders dripping off most things, and a soft crunching made her look down. She tread upon the shells of insects, boots crushing the brittle things to dust.
Sayna swallowed her disgust and glanced at Rose, and she hoped her sister wouldn’t look down. Rose had always hated bugs.
The cold seemed to creep in through the windows and pool in this room, making the air feel icy. 
Finally, Ben stopped between an old shelf of trinkets and books, and a pile of crates. He tapped his boot on the floor then, and nodded. “This should be right. I’ve patrolled that hallway nough ta know how many steps it is.”
He stepped back a bit. “Now… will ya be needin’ me ta tell yer friends?”
“Wait one moment.” Sandingomm said. “How thick’s the floor?”
“Uh…” Ben looked at a loss. “I dunno lady Keir. I ain’t never cut through it.”
Brek stepped closer. “It should be around a full foot thick. Anyway, the floors in Kotir had that depth, according to what documents I saw.”
Sayna aimed her sword at the dusty floor and kicked a cicada shell away. “We’ll need to make a few preliminary cuts to weaken it. How wide should this opening be?”
“Big enough fer me.” Said Sandingomm. “An’ that should cover the rest a ya.”
Sayna nodded, and circled the spot for a moment, before pressing the tip of her sword to the floor. Black spread across the rocks as they stained, but she had to shove down with considerable strength to push the point of her sword into them. It felt very wrong to do so, rock dulled normal swords severely. But she had torn this blade through many a set of armor and it showed no sign of dulling.
She took a deep breath and began working the sword up and down in a sawing motion. It did cut the rock, just slowly… agonizingly slowly. 
Thanks to the Borealis, she felt only the slightest twinge of an ache in her shoulder blades as she finished the first score mark, and began on the second side of the hole she was trying to carve.
Brek stepped forward then, asking, “Do you need help?”
Sayna shook her head as she worked. “You seriously underestimate how hard this is. Besides, you’ll be using magic. I want your help with the final cuts, so that by the time Tsarmina’s realized something’s wrong, this stone is already falling.”
“Well, let me take a turn.” Torrin said, walking over.
Sayna straightened up, a momentary lance of pain shooting up her back, before it vanished with a tingle. Still, she cautiously rubbed her back as she thought for a moment, and then held out the sword. “Have at it, I guess.”
He could use the sword’s power, for some reason… Sayna wasn’t quite sure why. But she figured she’d have to make the final cuts to the rock to dislodge it from the ceiling, and that a short rest couldn’t be bad, even for an immortal creature. Torrin got to work quickly, falling into the same pattern Sayna had used, up and down sawing that slowly, ever so slowly, made a horizontal score in the rock.
Ben looked at Sandingomm. “Is… um… is this how you normally infiltrate castles, Lady Keir?”
She shrugged. “I do what I gotta.”
Sayna gave her a look. “You’re not doing anything at the moment.”
“I gotta keep me paws fresh. Tsarmina’s gettin’ me fist in her face after all.” 
Ben looked at Sandingomm, cocking his head. “Ya do realize that Tsarmina’s weapon is poisoned… don’t ya?”
Sandingomm nodded. “Yeah. So Rose shoots her from up here before we all jump down.”
“I…” Rose sputtered for a moment. “I may not have any sort of straight shot. I’m just coming because I hope I can do something and…”
She clenched her paw around her bow. “And I shouldn’t be near Ty right now.”
Sayna reached out before thinking, and wrapped an arm around Rose’s shoulders. But her sister didn’t protest, just leaned into that hug and let out a sigh. She smiled a bit. “I promised I wouldn’t do anything stupid.”
“Please.” Said Sayna. It would be best for everyone if they didn’t have a repeat of Marshank.
Torrin had started on the third side of the initial scoring for the hole, and he suddenly straightened up, arching his back with a wince. 
“Agh. Thankless work, that.”
“Oh, let me have a try.” Said Sandingomm, as she walked over and grabbed the hilt of the Queensword, a mear knife in her paw. As she knelt for better leverage, Sayna opened her mouth to tell the cat that it wouldn’t work. But the words never left her, because it did work. 
Blue flowed down the sword, and though paler than when Sayna held it, the flames were still clearly visible. 
Sandingomm began cutting, and she did make progress quite a bit faster. Torrin took a step back, saying, “Careful. Don’t punch through the floor before we’re ready.”
“I’m bein’ careful.” Sandingomm assured. She started on the fourth and final side. “Ben, ya might wanna run and tell Tynek ta get ready. 
I’d say a real loud crash is gonna be a good signal.”
Ben nodded, and hurried off, his boots echoing in the stillness of the large room. Several minutes later, Sandingomm finished her work and stood. She made sure to walk around the intended hole as she came to Sayna’s side and offered her the sword. “Nice little weapon this is. Whish they made ‘em bigger.”
Sayna opened her mouth to say Sandingomm would have to take that up with Pyralis… and then remembered, with a pang of hurt, that she couldn’t. She took the sword, pushing that thought from her mind. Today was about how many she could save now, and not the ones she couldn’t.
The surroundings brightened as when she touched the hilt, the sword’s flames sprang up. Sayna let go of Rose and stepped toward the hole, looking to Brek. “Are we ready?”
Her little brother closed his eyes, before drawing his sword and holding it out. He drew in a breath, never opening his eyes, and no one said a word to let him focus. For a moment, nothing happened. Then with a shower of sparks, the blade of his sword turned to silent blue flames. His eyes snapped open then, and their normally soft brown had turned as blue as his sword. When he spoke, his voice came out surprisingly calm. “Yes.”
Sayna held her sword over the scored rock on one side, and Brek did the same on the other. After a second, Sayna said, “Now.”
She plunged her blade down as hard as she could, and dragged it through the stone with a grinding rasp. She put all her energy into it, tearing through solid rock as she heard a muffled shriek from below. 
Yes, that sounded like Tsarmina.
Sayna yanked her sword free and plunged it down again through the next score, repeating the process. As she neared the end of that cut, the floor rumbled. Brek straightened up as it shifted, and Sayna did the same, pulling her blade free and stepping back as the damaged piece of floor tilted. For a second, Sayna feared it would stick there, jammed at an angle.
Then it fell, dropping into the room below with a thunderous crash, and a string of shrieked curses. Sandingomm smirked. “I should’a told Tynek ta use the screaming as a signal.”
With that, she ran at the jagged hole and jumped, never even looking. Sayna ran to the edge, staring down at the splintered wreck of some unfortunate thing the piece of ceiling had landed on. And it was very far down. Brek ran to the edge, and after one moment, he leapt down too.
“Brek!” Sayna yelled. He wasn’t supposed to do that.
She swallowed hard, glancing at Torrin and Rose. Then she cursed herself for her role in this attack, and jumped into empty space. For less than a second she fell, her stomach seeming to stay in the attic as she plummeted toward the floor below. 
She landed upright, but with a jarring hard enough to rattle her teeth, and she was fairly certain she felt something in her left leg crack.
But as with everything, the pain faded in moments, and was completely gone as she got her bearings. 
Tsarmina stood pressed against the outer wall of the room, near a window, but not at it. She hissed balefully, holding her scepter out defensively as Sandingomm advanced on her, a grin on her face. “Here kitty, kitty. I think it’s bout time fer a rematch.”
“Burn in the underrealms!” Tsarmina screamed, fur spiking.
Sandingomm laughed. “I really don’t think that’s possible fer me, sorry ta disapoint.”
Brek ran to her side, and Sayna quickly joined them as they ringed Tsarmina, cutting her off from trying to bolt for the door. Not that it would do her much good, as it was bolted securely from all Sayna had seen. And she could hear the wails and curses of soldiers outside… Tynek was doing what he did best.
Seeing Tsarmina like this, backed against a wall, in a mere dress, with nothing but a scepter and insults on her tongue… it was truly hard to believe she had caused so much destruction. 
Yet she had. Her orders had slain so many Mossflowerians, soldiers, mothers, and kits alike. Young and old, slave and free, Mossflowerian and Greeneyes… all had suffered under her rule. Before Sandingomm could say a word, Sayna took a step forward, holding up her sword in defense. “Your reign of agony ends now, Tsarmina.”
Tsarmina had one paw clenched over her side where Brek had cut her at the end of Gingivere’s duel, and she took seething breaths through bared fangs. “Who are you, realmless mouse...”
Tsarmina spit at Sayna, something that hit her arm. The cat queen snarled under her breath, adding, “To speak to me?”
Sayna did a poor job of holding down her rage that was hardly directed at the insult. This pathetic creature was the reason they’d all suffered? The reason so many had to die? This sad excuse for a queen?
Her voice surprised her, completely level with a mere undertone of hate. “I am a true queen of Mossflower. And you are nothing.”
Tsarmina’s emerald eyes flashed with hatred, and she lunged for Sayna. She leapt back, parrying the deadly scepter blade to the side. 
“I’m nothing?” Tsarmina screeched. “I’m queen of a thousand eyes, and you’re a dirty little mouse!”
“Yer gonna be queen a the fishes in yer moat. I wonder if you’ll make good eatin’ fer ‘em.” Sandingomm called, from where she stood to 
Tsarmina’s left. For all her claims of punching Tsarmina in the face, she was staying clear of the scepter… a good call. She seemed perfectly comfortable with flinging insults, though.
Tsarmina skidded to a stop, glaring rabidly from Sandingomm to Sayna, like she was at a loss as to who to attack. 
Then her poison gaze fell upon Brek.
The fury in her eyes multiplied, so potent it twisted her face, once reasonably attractive, into a hideous mask of loathing. Her voice was guttural, a low, snarling hiss. “You.”
Before Sayna could move, Tsarmina lunged for Brek. He held up his sword in defense, and the blade, once again steel, caught the full force of her slash. 
Brek squeaked a tiny bit as he flew across the room from the power behind the hit, skidding across the floor and smashing into a chair, then the wall. He crumpled to the tiles, and though Tsarmina stalked towards him, he didn’t rise.
Sayna lunged for Tsarmina, a scream stuck in her throat. But no Bloodwrath fueled her, no power coursed through her veins and sang the song of crippling fear in her mind. No black, coiling snakes to drag her into nothingness and give her brother a chance to survive. Just a hollow dullness. A cold hopelessness. 
Who was she, to think she could do this?
A creak filled the air, then a whistle and a fleshy thud. 
Tsarmina shrieked, halting her rush for Brek and staggering away from the attack. A green fletched arrow protruded from her side, near where she’d already been injured. Sayna turned to stare at the spot where the ceiling had fallen, and there stood Rose, bow arm still up, her other paw still raised and near her cheek. Torrin stood behind her, and a rope dangled through the ceiling hole.
Rose leapt off the slab of ceiling as Tsarmina straightened up, and Sayna gaped as her sister loaded another arrow, all while storming forward.
“You will not touch my brother!” 
Rose yelled it as she planted her left boot, drew back her bow, and shot Tsarmina from what couldn’t have been over ten feet away. 
Sayna’s mouth dropped open. Even Sandingomm didn’t move. Torrin just stood blinking, poised to jump from the ceiling piece, but now thinking the better of it. Rose’s arrow impaled Tsarmina clean through her midriff, tip piercing from her back and all.
Well. That… hadn’t been what Sayna had envisioned. 
Tsarmina staggered back, and crumpled against a lowset table near the fireplace, blood beginning to drain from her mouth.
Rose stood frozen for a moment, a wild fierceness in her gaze, and Sayna had to wonder if her sister was going to shoot Tsarmina a third time. But Rose’s paws fell to her sides a second later, and she wheeled around to look where Brek had fallen. Then she rushed to him.
Sayna spun around to face Tsarmina, rage replacing her shock. The cat queen hacked up blood as she leaned over her coffee table, the scarlet pouring over her paws. 
And Sayna stalked toward Tsarmina without a word, nostrils flaring as she pinned her ears against her skull. The cat looked up, blood coating her face and arms as she tried to stand. But her visage was twisted in pain, in pure agony, and the best she could do was to make a weak attempt to lift her scepter.
Sayna didn’t even blink. She let out a yell of fury as she grabbed the grip of the scepter to keep Tsarmina from cutting her with it, and thrust her sword through the cat, right below her ribcage.
Tsarmina’s knees gave out and she fell to them, as Sayna felt her let go of her scepter. It clattered to the floor as she met Tsarmina’s eyes, and for once, her pride and hate seemed to have vanished, here in the face of death.
“Once.” Sayna spoke through gritted teeth. “I ran a creature through who I later came to pity. 
She heaved a breath as Tsarmina’s eyes began to dull. “I will never feel the same for you.”
Sayna stepped back, ripping her sword free of Tsarmina and curling her lip as the former queen of a thousand eyes fell into her own blood. It splattered over Sayna’s boots, and she found she did not mind those crimson stains, as she minded some.
Torrin walked to her side, gazing at Tsarmina’s twitching form for a moment. He twirled his axe once, before stepping toward the cat, and raising his weapon. He slashed it down, beheading her in a single blow, one that caused a clash of metal on stone. That done, he straightened up with a little sigh. 
He turned to Sayna, saying, “In the hopes no more of our enemies rise from death… though I’m sure you would have succeeded. Still.”
Sayna nodded, and thought of Ferran, snatching Groddil’s ward and running off to who knows where. Then she swallowed, and tried to think of anything else.
A blue glow brightened the room behind Sayna, one not from her sword. She turned to see Rose pouring several drops of Borealis water into a still unconscious Brek’s mouth. She tilted his head back until he swallowed, then corcked her now nearly empty vial and slipped it back into a belt pouch. After that, Rose hugged Brek close in the silence, closing her eyes.
Sayna felt her stomach turn. Brek… was ultimately ok, wasn’t he? But she’d seen how hard he’d slammed into the wall.
In the silence of voices in the king’s chambers, Sayna heard a yell from outside in the hallway.
She jerked her head toward the doors, whipping her sword into a defensive stance as something slammed against them with a wet sounding thud, causing both to rattle against their locks.
Right. This wasn’t over.
Tynek. 
Before she thought it through, Sayna began to walk toward the door. Torrin bounded after her, grabbing her arm. “Wait, think about this for a second!”
Sayna turned to him, and paused. In the silence of voices and movement, she could hear a last few whimpering cries, and a final clashing thud, before an eerie quiet. She frowned, meeting Torrin’s gaze. And she truly would rather stay here with him. Where it was safe, and the only dead body was Tsarmina’s. 
But she just gently pulled her arm free, and walked to the door. “I know how Bloodwrath works Torrin.”
Even better than you.
''
She pressed her ear to the door, listening. In the silence, she could hear a nasty snuffling noise, like a creature seeking a scent, but wet and rasping.
Sayna glanced at Rose, still holding Brek, and saw Sandingomm kneel beside them. Brek still drew breath, and all Sayna could do was pray to Ignasa he would be alright. But right now, she had another brother to save. She met Torrin’s worried gaze as she said, “I should stop him.”
Torrin stared at her. “You always tell me to get away from you, when you do that.”
“I am a Bloodwrather too.” Sayna said flatly. “And this isn’t an open battlefield.”
It most certainly wasn’t. Mossflowerian and Greeneyes alike were in this castle, somewhere around the room outside the long hallway to the king’s chambers. And left alone, Tynek would find them. He’d broken down the doors to that outer hallway, and now he wasn’t in control of himself anymore.
“You can’t use it!” Torrin protested, fear under the urgency in his tone.
“No.” Sayna took a deep breath. “And maybe that’s for the best.”
In the momentary quiet after she’d said it, sudden fear lanced through her. She held up a paw, and pressed her ear so tightly against the wall her face hurt. She heard no more methodical steps, and no more sniffing.
“Blast it!” 
Sayna began yanking the doors locks open, ordering, “Once I open this door, shut it and lock it behind me. Don’t come out until someone says.”
“Sayna!” Torrin protested.
“I know, you needn't tell me. This is the dumbest thing I’ve ever done, my most idiotic decision yet. But someone has to do this and I’m the only one who can. I won’t see our crown bloodstained in this way.”
The final lock clacked up, and Sayna shoved the carved doors open just enough to slip through. 
Her boot slid from beneath her the moment she stepped onto the floor of the hallway, and only grabbing the door kept her from slipping on slick stones. She straightened up as Torrin laid his paw on hers, on the door. “If I can’t stop you, let me come with you.”
Sayna shook her head, envisioning Gruven and what she had done to him. Now she was filling his roll, and she wouldn’t have any less immortal creatures joining her. 
“I’ll follow at a distance.” Torrin said. “He’s my friend too.”
Sayna bit her lip, but grumbled, “Fine.” 
They didn’t have time to argue about it. Sayna turned from the doors to face the hallway in earnest for the first time, and she honestly felt sick. She’d known it would be bad, and she’d known she’d slipped in blood. But the level of carnage left behind was some of the worst Sayna had seen in awhile.
Torrin walked to her side, muttering, “Well, this is a mess.”
“You were going to stay at a distance.” Sayna reminded, grimly. 
“When we find him.” Torrin assured.
Sayna huffed and hurried down the hallway painted in blood and mangled corpses, many in several different pieces. But no Tynek. Realms, where had he gone? 
Sayna broke into a run, and heard Torrin following. They burst through the now smashed doors, into the room where Ben had opened the door that led to the attic. No one was here, no Tynek either. Sayna cast about frantically, her gaze catching on the door to the attic. It lay in splinters. Oh, that was bad.
She bolted for the stairs, running up them, past the windows in the tower wall. The horizon grew pale with the dawn outside, and mist shrouded the land, but Sayna gave both a mere glance. Her metal boots felt heavy, yes, but her legs did not ache. It was the oddest of sensations.
“Tynek!” She yelled, even before she reached the attic. She needed to get his attention, draw him away from whatever prey he stalked.
She rushed into the storage area, but saw no one. Still, now that she looked at the floor, she could see red smears of bootprints, illuminated in the light of her sword.
“Torrin, stay back.” Sayna ordered. “If I am your queen, I beg you to stay away from him.”
She met his gaze for just a moment, for his second of hesitation as he nodded. Then she followed the prints into the clutter of the attic. They grew fainter as she chased them, finally fading out altogether.
Realms. Tynek could be anywhere.
Sayna stopped where the blood trail did, glancing back toward the door to the attic, where Torrin still stood, axe at the ready. 
She took a deep breath and listened, listened as hard as she could for any sound, and yet there was nothing. Tynek was hardly light on his paws, but she had no doubts that his Bloodwrath had the capacity. 
Something tugged on the decorative half-skirt of her armor, and Sayna yelped softly, jumping over a foot into the air. When she landed with a clash, she noticed it was only Ben, crouching below a shrouded table. He shook his head, eyes wide. “Please milady… he’s comin’.”
“Hush.” Sayna said. “Stay hidden.”
Ben shrank back under his table as Sayna stared around the room, looking for any sign of her brother. But there was no noise, no glow of a sword. But surely he had the weapon still? Unless he’d lost it and replaced it in Bloodwrath. She swallowed, then walked forward, shouting in a voice that echoed off the large space’s walls. “Tynek!”
Ignasa stood with her. And with each step she took, she felt a little of him in her, like he walked beside her. And what was Bloodwrath to him?
She thought of her own, caged in a tree of white thorns that burned at its touch. 
She rounded a corner, formed by a near ceiling high bookcase. There Tynek stood, but unnaturally so. Bent over… even twisted somehow. And the sword in his clenched paw but oddly limp arm bore the Kingsword’s white blade, yet not a single tongue of fire licked at it.
Even before he turned, Sayna knew what she would see. He spun around, both arms snapping with him like limp ropes and the sword flailing carelessly. No longer were his eyes their gentle brown; now they shown red in her sword’s light, pure red, from pupil to sclera. The hate in their depths made a tickle of true fear claw at Sayna’s mind, not so sharp as Bloodwrath, but the most she’d felt in awhile. A part of her screamed for her to run.
Tynek crouched down to spring at her with exaggerated, sweeping movements so unlike his calculated ones.
Sayna met his gaze, a gaze she knew well, and yelled, “Bloodwrath!”
And Tynek paused, slowly straightening the slightest amount. Sayna pinned her ears, growling, “Oh yes, Bloodwrath. I know what you are.”
Tynek licked his lips, and then spoke in that terrible voice comprised of so many. “So. You are the sister.”
Tynek cocked his head, and smiled. The shiver that ran down Sayna’s spine was immediate, like rivulets of freezing water. Indeed, she doubted the real Tynek was physically capable of so wide a smile. 
Bloodwrath spoke again, voice jumbled to some extent, more than what Sayna expected. “The sister he loves so.”
Tynek’s face contorted into an even wider smile, so wide the muscles in his face had to be strained. “If you were gone, he would listen to me.”
Sayna tensed as Tynek lunged for her, and she brought her blade up for a duel-pawed block. The smashing clash of sword on sword deafened her, or nearly. It felt like she’d lept to stop a falling boulder, and she heard the cracks of nearly all the joints in both her arms. 
Sayna staggered a step back, before jumping away to disengage. Bloodwrath chased, using her brother’s body. 
Tynek had always been strong. And now he had both arms. Sayna ducked below Tynek’s sword arm as he slammed his blade into the stones on which she’d been standing. She spun and smashed the pommel of her sword into his ribs as hard as she could. Pain could bring him back, but would it work while the curse was in full control?
“Tynek!” 
Sayna screamed his name with everything she had as he staggered forward.
And several blue flames danced down the Kingsword’s blade.
Hope flared in Sayna’s chest, but the fire died just as quickly as it had come, and Tynek spun around to face her, malice replacing his twisted smile. 
“You cannot separate us.”
Sayna shook herself in that momentary respite. “But Ignasa can.”
Tynek screeched. He clamped both paws to his head and screeched in a voice not remotely mortal. Then he lunged for her again. She parried his sword and staggered to the side from the force, nearly falling on her face. She caught herself just in time to block another slash.
Crunch. That was definitely her elbow, imploding at some level from the force of Tynek’s hit. Pain streaked through her arms, and she ground her teeth hard enough to chip them. 
And she did the one thing she could. “Ignasa, let him hear you, and not the voice of Bloodwrath!”
Tynek screeched again, louder this time. So loud Sayna’s ears rang and she was sure he could be heard throughout all of Theas-Lidir.
Sayna shook herself again, readying herself for the next bone-crushing blow, but the sword fell from Tynek’s paws as he gripped the sides of his head and yelled in a voice half his and half Bloodwrath’s, “I do not serve you!”
Sayna swallowed, then noticed the bookshelf she’d passed to get here. And the large, stoutly bound books within. She lunged, grabbed one, and flung it at Tynek’s back as she yelled, “Tynek! It’s in your soul, not your mind! You have just as much power there as it has!”
He staggered as the heavy tome struck him square in the back. Sayna snatched another, throwing it. “Ignasa can lead you out, he did for me!”
The second book hit Tynek’s side, where Sayna had struck him with her sword hilt. 
Her brother collapsed, and though she grabbed yet another book, she didn’t throw it. Please! I don’t want to hurt him anymore.
Tynek screeched that impossible screech again, but it was far more subdued. He lay there, shoulders hunched with his elbows braced against the floor.
His voice sounded far more his own as he rasped, “I am no one’s slave.”
Sayna watched red begin dripping to the floor below his face. He heaved a breath in and then out, before snarling, “Least of all yours.”
Tynek struggled to rise, his arms shaking. Sayna tensed with her paw raised, heavy book ready to throw. Her arm shook though, and even through the Borealis and the adrenalin, she could feel twinges of pain in her elbow. It must be severely hurt for that to be the case, but Sayna didn’t take her eyes off Tynek, as he groaned, and blood dribbled from his mouth. 
“Tynek?” She asked warily.
“I…” He coughed, sluggishly clutching at his side. “Ow.”
Sayna blinked, and wanted to rush to his side. Tynek’s pain tolerance was ridiculously high… she must have broken his ribs.
“Tynek?” Sayna repeated as her arm went suddenly limp and the book thudded to the floor.
He groaned again, and looked to her, and she bit her lip. Blood streaked from his eyes in rivulets as they slowly returned to normal from the pupil out.
He coughed, and nearly collapsed with a cry. After a second, he murmured, “Thank you.”
Sayna ran to him then, kneeling by his side. He tried to push himself upright again, and whimpered through his teeth as he did. 
“Don’t!” Sayna exclaimed as she tried to raise her left arm, but the elbow clacked oddly, not wanting to move. If she didn’t have the Borealis right now, she’d be in excruciating pain. She sighed. “I think I broke your ribs. Sorry.”
“It’s… fine.” Tynek murmured.
He looked at her arm, which hung useless at her side. “Your arm… is it alright?”
Sayna shook her head. “Don’t worry about it, it doesn’t even hurt.”
That was a lie. Every movement of the limb in question brought twinges of discomfort. Not… true pain, just an odd pressure, and clacking as bones ground against bones. 
Bootsteps filled the echoing attic as Torrin walked around the bookshelf. His concerned frown deepened the moment he saw them. He hurried the rest of the short distance to their sides, asking, “Are you two alright?”
“Alive.” Sayna took a deep breath. “I broke Tynek’s ribs.”
“She… did.” Tynek said, finally surrendering to the pain he was in and lowering himself facedown on the floor.
Sayna sighed, struggling upright. Her arm flopped uselessly at her side as she said, “Stay with him, I’m getting Rose.”
“Or,” Torrin held up a paw. “You could rest and let me do it.”
“I’m…” Sayna began, but Torrin shook his head. 
“Sayna. You look exhausted.”
He yanked the cover off an old fine sofa, and pleaded, “Please just sit down.”
Sayna flattened her ears grumpily for a moment, before relenting and carefully lowering herself to the couch. She leaned against the back, and in that moment, realized just how tired she was. It had been a long day. 
She vaguely heard Torrin talking to Tynek as her eyes closed without her consent, and she drifted off.
><><
Sayna woke to clangs of armor and voices, with no comprehension of how long she’d actually slept. 
“I swear. I leave you Lukes alone for any amount of time, and everything gets destroyed.”
That sounded like Indigo, and like she was annoyed by how worried she was.
Torrin responded, saying, “Well, less was destroyed than it could have been.”
“Optimism aside, lord Torrin, when the general assigned me this duty, he could not have known how hard it would be. Realms above, I’ve never been so emotionally drained by a guard position.”
Sayna smacked dry lips, wanting a drink of water. She blinked a few times, before realizing she still sat on the couch, only now she slumped against the armrest, something too large for her. 
Torrin and Indigo stood a few feet away, and when Sayna tried to sit upright, both turned to look at her. Her arm wouldn’t move more than a few inches, though there was no more pain, just an odd pressure. 
She fell against the armrest again, before using her right arm and hauling herself into a sitting position. 
Torrin had walked over during her struggle, and sat on the opposite side of her. “Is it your arm? Can I see it?”
Sayna offered him her limp arm, asking, “You know healing?”
“Not much, but I’ve seen broken bones enough to know what they look and feel like.” He said, as he slipped her gauntlet off and began feeling up her arm. The moment his paws reached her elbow, he winced.
“What?” Sayna asked.
Torrin kept grimacing. “That’s got to be unpleasant.”
Sayna shrugged. “It’s tight and imobile… but it doesn’t really hurt much.”
“Well, it’s not as swollen as it should be.” Torrin conceded, gently laying her arm across her lap. “But the bones have slipped, and there have to be torn muscles.”
Sayna held in her sigh, and nodded. Ultimately, for facing a creature in full Bloodwrath, she’d survived amazingly well. Torrin frowned, asking, “How are you doing?”
“Honestly?” Sayna asked. “I’m relieved. Tsarmina is dead. The Greeneyes flags over this castle have fallen and a comparatively small amount of us died for what we faced... we did well with what we had… how is Tynek?”
“In a lot of pain.” Rose’s voice responded, and Sayna looked where Tynek had been lying when she momentarily lost consciousness. He lay on his stomach on the floor, and Rose had removed his chestplate and hauberk, and she felt along the fur of his back. “Did you have to hit him so hard?”
Tynek shifted slightly, mumbling, “Yes.”
“Hush.” Rose said. She pulled a wad of bandages from her belt pouch, and the vial of flower water. Sayna noted how little remained, a mere slime on the bottom of the glass bottle.
Tynek reached out with a groan, placing his paw on her knee. “Do… we not have injured?”
“Yes.” Rose said firmly. “You.”
“I am…”
“No.” Said Rose. “You have two broken ribs and a cracked one. Sayna is not to be trifled with, you are not fine.”
With that, she dipped a claw into the vial and pulled it out coated in a bit of blue. She smeared it across his back, where Sayna had struck him with the hilt of her sword. Beneath the gold of his fur, she could see the dark purple bruising, and winced. “I really am sorry.”
“You did what you had too, I’m sure.” Rose said, with a reluctant sigh. “Neither of you died. That’s what matters.”
Tynek shivered as the glow absorbed into him, and Rose began unwinding her bandages. After a moment, Tynek sat up with a mere wince. Sayna was surprised he still felt any pain, but the amount of Borealis Rose had managed to salvage from the vial had been minimal. Rose began wrapping his chest in bandages, pulling them tight. 
Sayna slowly forced herself to stand, though she wanted to close her eyes right here and now and sleep for hours.
But she couldn’t. She heard Torrin stand too as she walked over to Indigo, who’d started pacing. “Do you have any idea of our losses?”
“Two hundred and counting.” Indigo said shortly. She glanced at Tynek and Rose, then Sayna’s arm. “My queen, perhaps this isn’t the time or place… yet I can’t imagine there will be a better one. The fact is we aren’t out of the proverbial woods, we can’t be.”
Sayna glanced at Torrin, then turned to Indigo. “What do you mean?”
Indigo shook her head. A few lanterns had been lit and set on various pieces of furniture, and in the palid light, the rabbit looked hollow. She sighed. “Have you forgotten in what state we left Mossflower?”
For a second, Sayna wasn’t sure what Indigo meant, and then she remembered. The bulk of the Greeneye’s army marching on Hran-forias; their decision to target Tsarmina in her weakness instead of running to the squirrel’s aid.
Were Mossflower forests even still standing? Or had that vassel named Jerilyn burned them to the ground?
And what had become of the squirrels?
Indigo took a deep breath. “My queen, my king. What are your orders?”
Sayna rubbed her head. As much as she might want to rush back to Mossflower, she knew she was too tired. They all were. Tynek shook his head. “I could not ride far, like this.”
Sayna nodded. “We’ll need to stay here… at least long enough to rest. We’re no good to anyone in this state.”
Indigo didn’t protest. “I must take count of our army.”
There was a grunt, and Sayna turned as Tynek stood, upper torso securely wrapped in bandages. “I am coming.”
Rose scrambled to her paws. “Not without a shirt!”
She snatched up his hauberk and held it for him while he slipped into it. Then she began tying it closed, sighing, “You can’t address your army like that.”
A smile tugged at Tynek’s lips, a normal sized one. Seeing her brother’s usual expressions again was unexplainably comforting. He laid his paw on Rose’s as he said, “Thank you.”
Sayna turned to Indigo so she wouldn’t have to watch if the two started kissing, though she supposed she was being hypocritical about that. “I’ll come too.”
“Not before I look at your arm.” Rose said, walking over. “You two really are siblings, aren’t you?”
She began feeling Sayna’s useless arm, and she grimaced. “How are you not screaming in pain?”
“Magic, probably.” Sayna remarked.
That reminded her… “How is Brek?”
Rose began prodding and shifting Sayna’s elbow, something that made it ache. “He’s resting. He’s a little disoriented, but he’s alright.”
Sayna relaxed, and nodded. “Good.”
A sudden jolt in her arm brought a flash of pain, and she yelped. Rose had moved something, it almost felt as though the joint had clicked into place. Rose looked over her shoulder at Tynek. “Grab the rest of my bandages, Ty. I need to make a sling.”
Tynek moved to obey, but Sayna could already feel the heeling tingle in her elbow. She lifted her arm, and this time it moved, just stiffly. Still, most of the odd pressure was gone. She flexed it once, satisfied that she had enough movement back for the moment.
“It’s alright. You fixed it.”
Rose stared at her for a moment, then shook her head. Then she just motioned to the ground behind Sayna. “You’ll… probably want your sword.”
Sayna turned, and saw it lay on the floor near the couch. She hurried to pick it up, and sheathed it as Tynek retrieved his own weapon.
“Are we ready, my king and queen?” Indigo asked, from where she’d taken up leaning against a stack of boxes.
Sayna nodded, and Indigo straightened up. “Good.”
She turned, and began the trek out of the attic. As they walked down the stairs, Sayna saw pink and violet creeping along the horizon. Dawn had come.
Indigo led them back through the keep, and out into a stained courtyard growing lighter as the sun rose. The bulk of the army they had brought stood there, some being treated for injuries, while others stood atop the walls as sentinels. Still more stood in groups and talked.
A hush fell over them however, when they saw Sayna and her company walk out of the keep. 
One by one, they all turned to face them, and Indigo looked to Sayna and Tynek as well. “Do you have any words for them?”
Tynek looked a little blank, but Sayna nodded. She stepped forward as she raised a paw. There weren’t many words, and no practiced speech. But the three words she did have were better than any other thing she could have fabricated.
She clenched her fist, and she shouted, “Tsarmina is dead!”
Instant cheers rang out, followed by more, a wave of jubilance that swelled like the sea crashing on the shore.
Even most of the vermin cheered, and from what Sayna could tell, they seemed to be genuine cheers. They were free. No longer would their careless queen abuse them, force them to die for her, and tear their families apart.
And Sayna smiled, as the sun rose red in the sky, turning the clouds coral. As she listened to the sounds of celebration from creatures long oppressed, she knew that this was good. This was justice.
Drying blood painted the stones of the courtyard, and the pile of collapsed, burnt wood that had been the stable still smoldered. This victory had been costly.
And yet the looks on all the faces she saw told her they viewed it a worthy sacrifice.
Tynek smiled as Sayna let her fist drop to her side. As the cheers faded a bit, he looked out to the army, and called, “You are free! This land; it is ours again.”
That brought another roar of excited voices, and cries of acknowledgement, as well as calls of ‘long live the king’ and ‘long live the queen’.
Sayna stepped forward. “This battle is not yet done. Even now, the squirrels fight for our land and we will aid them. But for now we must rest. We ride today as the sun sets, to our brethren who yet struggle for freedom.”
She smiled. “But for now, this victory is yours. No single creature won this day.”
“We all did.” Tynek added.
The wild cheering died down at the mention of the conflict to come, but cries of agreement came in response to the end of Sayna’s speech. 
She let herself relax as someone grabbed her paw, and she looked up into Torrin’s smiling eyes. And for one second, she could see the future there, clearer than she ever had before. She smiled back, and yawned as a result. “I… think I need sleep.” 
He nodded. “I do too.”
Tynek leaned on Rose as she gently hugged him, being careful of his side. He looked to Sayna, saying, “I agree.”
Hooves rang out, and Sayna looked up, to see Dancer running at her, streaks of brown still running down her face from her horn. But Sayna grinned and let go of Torrin’s paw to rush forward. She grabbed her friend's neck in a tight hug and held on as Dancer reared with a joyous whinny. She lowered her hooves to the ground moments later, nickering, “You did it.”
Dancer rubbed the length of her face against Sayna’s nose, closing her eyes as she said, “You always wanted this. You just forgot who you were for a time.”
Sayna pressed her nose to Dancer’s face and closed her eyes as well, murmuring, “I found who I really was.”
“I knew you would.” Dancer pulled back a bit, and smiled so wide her eyes closed again. “Why do you think I followed you so far?”
For a second, Sayna found herself overcome, and unable to say a word. Finally she blinked away tears and felt the corners of her mouth turn up the slightest bit. “Thank you.”
Dancer opened her mouth to reply, when a shout rang over the wall tops, from the main gate. Sayna noticed that it stood open, drawbridge down. Moments later, a creature came running out of the gatehouse and toward the keep. The crowd made way for them.
Sayna recognized Duane as he slid to a stop near her, and clapped a paw to his chestplate. “Yer… majesties. Yer gonna want ta see this.”
His gray eyes held grimness Sayna knew well; he was afraid. She turned to Tynek, to see he and Rose were already hurrying over, Torrin following quickly. Sayna looked back at the ferret, asking, “What is it?”
He swallowed, and said, “There’s a force aproachin’. Too big ta be the squirrels, I know that.”
Sayna paused for a moment to look around, then she turned to Indigo. “Get Sandingomm.”
With that she forced what little energy she had left into her legs, and sprinted for the gatehouse. The crowd stepped aside from her as she bolted through their midst, armor clinking. She ran through an already open door, and up a set of stone stairs into the main guardroom. A stout ladder to a hatch in the ceiling beckoned her, and she ran past the few creatures in this room to it. She hauled herself up the rungs, elbow still aching a fractional amount. Tynek… really had managed to hurt her.
Sayna scrambled onto the battlements, atop the watchtower that spanned the gates. She rushed to the outer wall, looking west and moving her gaze across the brown prairie, which glittered with frost in the pink dawn.
When she looked upon the part of the land she could see between north and east, her heart sank. There, darkening the grasses, was an army, a force like the one she’d faced at the Moss, one that spread across the ground and turned it black. Scraping made her turn, and 
Torrin crawled onto the stones around the ladder, before leaping up and running to her side. He stared where she did, and as he looked, his paws fell from the battlements and to his sides. Creatures came up quickly then, Rose and Tynek among them. The way her brother leaned heavily on the parapets, Sayna imagined he should not have climbed the ladder.
The weasel named Sargent Hawkins came running then, Sandingomm vaulting off the ladder not far behind.
When Hawkins turned from the wall to look at Sayna, his expression of pure confusion made her feel unexplainably guilty.
She coughed into her paw, asking, “Er… what?”
“Ya… defeated Lady Jeralin… didn’t ya?” Hawkins asked. “That’s why ya could come here… tell me you did!”
He truly seemed petrified. Sandingomm walked over, asking, “What gave ya that idea?”
Hawkins swallowed hard. “Ya… came here? How could any a our armies’ve survived? If they’re alive, how come ya aren’t fightin’ them?”
“Cause we couldn’t.” Sandingomm shrugged. “There were way too many. We decided ta come an’ attack Tsarmina instead. Ya know Hawkins, yer a military creature. We were facin’ twenty thousand an’ that meant ya couldn’t have all that many back here.”
Sayna glared at Sandingomm, asking, “Can you tell any more of our plans?”
“What?” Sandingomm asked. “We already did that one. And it worked.”
Sayna looked to Hawkins, whose legs had begun to shake. And she sighed as he said, “I thought … since ya came here…”
He looked away. “We’re all dead, an’ our families with us.”
“We haven’t even fought yet!” Sandingomm protested.
“Lady Keir.” The sergeant pointed over the wall to the slowly approaching mass. “Do ya know their numbers? I don’t anymore, but it’s a sight more than anything we have here.”
Sandingomm sighed. “We have the castle…”
“An’ we don’t have the supplies for a prolonged siege.” Hawkins countered.
“Hawkins.” Sayna asked.
“What?” He snapped, clearly stressed. He sucked in a deep breath. “I’m sorry, yer majesty. What?”
Sayna nodded to the town, still mostly asleep, unaware of the coming army. “Will Jeralin really attack them?”
Hawkins took a deep breath, and nodded. “We’re traitors now, yer majesty. Jeralin’s vindictive; she’ll hit us where it hurts the most. And it’s no secret that soldiers families tend to live in the towns around where we’re stationed.”
“Then there’s not a second to waste.” Sayna said, laying her paw on the hilt of her sword. “We must bring the townfolk inside the castle.”
“Will they all fit?” Torrin asked.
Sayna shook her head as she looked over the town, a good sized one. It would be a tight fit and no prolonged siege, but it might buy them all a few hours. What they would do with those hours, Sayna didn’t know. And yet she wanted that chance to make a better plan. She started for the ladder just as Indigo climbed up, Ben behind her. The rat looked worried, Sayna noticed. Of course, hadn’t he said something about a kit?
“Yer… going out?” Hawkins asked from behind.
Sayna glanced over her shoulder. “It’s time you saw the metal of a true queen.”
As she stepped onto the ladder’s top rung, Indigo turned to face her. “Wherever you’re going my queen, let me come with you.”
Torrin walked to the rabbit’s side, Sandingomm close behind. Sandingomm tossed slightly clumped and very messy black hair. “We’re comin’ too. This is me castle an’ court after all, wouldn’t be much of a queen if’n I didn’t help.”
Sayna smiled weakly. “I’ll take all the help I can get.”
Then she started down the ladder and hurried from the guardhouse. She could hear creatures following, but she didn’t look back as she burst into the courtyard, calling, “Dancer?”
Moments later hoofbeats filled the air, and Dancer pushed through the crowd, asking, “What is it, what’s going on?”
Sayna vaulted onto her friend’s back. “We’ve got a problem.”
“When do we not?” Dancer weakly joked, but fell silent when Torrin and Indigo rushed from the gatehouse, Sandingomm close behind. Even 
Ben followed, though Sayna didn’t see Tynek. She hoped he’d stay inside Theas-Lidir. He did have broken ribs.
Dancer stamped in place as she listened to Sayna’s rushed explanation of events while the rest of the party found mounts to ride. Torrin and Solain soon trotted to stand by Sayna’s side, and she met Torrin’s gaze. He seemed to be thinking what she was, because he said grimly, “I pray Mossflower still stands.”
Sayna just nodded, turning to look out the open gate. More than anything she wanted to close that gate, but the citizens of the town couldn’t just be abandoned.
And in the back of her head were pictures of Mossflower, of the forests she had grown to love over a mere few months, reduced to a plain of smoldering ashes. What of that poor little squirrel queen, just a kit? What of Birch, noble creature that he was? What of Hran-forias, with it’s honey wood and arching, flowering trellises?
She shook herself as Indigo rode up on the pale horse she usually did, and Sandingomm soon found her black. Several more soldiers joined them, rabbits, a few mice, and even some vermin.
Sayna looked around, asking, “Where’s Spring?”
She realized she hadn’t seen the otter princess in awhile. Indigo shook her head. “She’s agreed to stay with our army here. They need at least one leader. Come, if we are to do this, let us make haste.”
The cream horse started forward at a trot, and soon broke into a gallop. Sayna leaned over Dancer’s mane as her friend picked up speed as well, and Sayna looked back as Dancer’s hooves pounded hollowly on the drawbridge. She turned her gaze up and breathed a sigh of relief when she saw a familiar face atop the gatehouse walls. Tynek had stayed… good. She didn’t exactly see Rose, but then, her sister was short enough that it wasn’t surprising.
Sayna turned her face to the path ahead as they galloped across the small expanse of browned grass before the first houses of the settlement here.
A few creatures seemed to be up, some feeding ferals, some fetching water. They stared in shock at the group of galloping horses rushing from their local castle. Fear began to register in their eyes as Indigo bellowed, “Theas-lidir is under attack! The gates are open to you, but not for long… retreat to the castle, go!”
None that Sayna saw moved to obey. In fact most rushed back into their houses.
Great.
Dancer and Solain ran neck and neck, ahead of the other equines as always. And Sayna had to wonder if this was a fool’s errand. If no one would even come with them. They galloped through the main thoroughfare, Indigo repeating her hollered warning to any she saw. Most scurried back inside their homes, though Sayna noticed a few who stared after them worriedly. When they reached the southern edge of the town, Sayna swallowed as Dancer reared, neighing wordlessly. 
Here on the ground, outside the safety of the walls, the approaching force looked so much worse. 
Their numbers turned the horizon black, and Sayna couldn’t help but think if the citizens would just look south instead of fleeing into the homes, they might listen. 
“Look to the south!” She yelled, hoping to catch the attention of the few scattering creatures she could see. “You will see we tell the truth!”
A horse ran past her then, rushing to a nearby cottage in a flash of chestnut fur. It slid to stop in the yard and Sayna saw Ben leap from it’s back and rush for the door. It opened the moment he neared it, and a rat lady rushed out, flinging her arms around him.
Sayna held back any satisfaction at seeing Ben reunited with his lady, because none of them were in a good position. She supposed they’d at least gotten to see each other again.
She turned back to the south, where Jeralin’s army was no more than an hour’s march away, they couldn’t be.
Indigo ground her teeth, so loud Sayna could hear the scraping. The rabbit spat to her side, ordering, “Spread out. Try to convince as many as you can to get into the castle. If they won’t come, leave them. We need those gates shut before that gets here.”
She nodded toward the approaching army. Then her horse wheeled around, and she rushed off to the western side of town, several of her rabbits galloping in her wake. 
And they tried. The next minutes Sayna spent rushing from house to house on Dancer’s back, trying to convince the citizens to go to safety. A few listened. And every mother who ran back inside only come out moments later with her kits, every old male who stared at her for a long moment, then bowed, and started his hobbling way toward Theas-lidir, every young maid who scampered away from her toward the castle… they brought her hope.
Yet it was hardly the amount of creatures any of them had hoped for. Jeralin’s army came closer every second, yet even once they saw it, some townsfolk refused to leave.
Sayna knew what an oxymoron she was. A mouse, a golden mouse, asking the citizens of a nation not her own to run from an army flying their own banners. Yet she could guess their fate if they stayed. 
She spent a half hour like that, ordering, reasoning, and sometimes begging. The mothers with kits who refused her words hurt her the most. Yet she couldn’t stay to argue longer with them.
As Dancer left the town, walking behind a pitifully sparse string of creatures toward the castle, Sayna looked back to the south. There were so many.
Mossflower would be as blackened by fire as the plains were with the forms of Greeneye soldiers. 
They’d killed Tsarmina, and yet in the end, they could still fall. Pushed to the brink of exhaustion, she didn’t know how much fight remained in her soldiers. She didn’t know how much remained in her.
She rode up beside a frazzled mother, with a crying infant and one small kit who could barely walk. She couldn’t carry them both, and had fallen far behind the rest of the townsfolk with sense. Sayna leaned down, saying, “Let me help you.”
The ferret lady stared fearfully up at her, and Sayna looked back at Jeralin’s army. “You can’t make it to safety in time at this pace. Give me the toddler, I’ll carry her.”
Dancer smiled. “We won’t bite.”
The lady squeaked, jumping back a step and clapping a paw to her chest, staring at the unicorn. Sayna sighed, and said, “On this day, the walls between woodlander and vermin have fallen. We are all creatures trying to survive the coming nightmare. If you won’t take my help, I will have to leave you.”
The ferret lady bit her lip, hesitating a second more, before she snatched up her wide eyed kit and boosted her up so Sayna could take her. Sayna lifted the soft little kit onto Dancer’s back in front of her, and held her there as she said, “Come. Hurry!”
The kit’s mother nodded and broke into a run, Dancer trotting easily by her side. Jeralin’s army was not far from the town’s edge now. The ferret ran surprisingly fast, and Dancer even broke into a gentle lope as they neared the drawbridge. Most of the citizens were already through it, but Torrin and Solain stood at its end, waiting. Sayna saw Torrin’s posture visibly relax when their gazes met, and as Dancer trotted past him, Sayna called, “Come on!”
She heard Solian’s hooves slamming on the drawbridge as he followed close behind, and together they rushed through the gates and into an even more crowded courtyard than they had left.
The moment they did, Sayna heard the call of “Raise the drawbridge! Lower the portcullis and bar the gates!”
Seconds later, she heard the clanking of heavy chains, and Dancer spun around, Sayna with her. They were in time to see the portcullis smash down. As creatures shoved the gates shut, Sayna gave the kit back to her mother.
The ferret lady clung to her little one for a moment, then looked at Sayna as she swung down from Dancer’s back. 
“Thank you, golden queen.”
Sayna smiled as best she could, saying, “Hurry. Take your kits and get inside the keep.”
The ferret nodded, then set her wide-eyed kit on the ground, never letting go of her sniffling infant. She hurried as best just could toward the main castle, along with some of the more elderly citizens.
Sayna looked around, noting how many of the Mossflowerian soldiers stood around, talking. She called to them, ordering, “Archers! To the walltops! The strongest among you stay near the gate, we may need to shore it should they attempt to break in. Anyone else, help get all wounded inside, then report for positions on the walls. There is no time to waste!”
She waited just long enough to see they’d listened, then gave Dancer a quick hug and rushed for the gatehouse. She hauled herself up the ladder faster than she thought possible, and she wasn’t sure what fueled her; wild adrenaline or just pure magic.
Sayna ran to the parapets, noting a few strands of gold had fallen free of her tight braids. Rose really had done a masterful job with them, for her hair to stay up this long. She stopped beside her brother and sister, and looked over the expanse between Theas-Lidir and it’s town. The Greeneyes had reached it, and she could hear the rumble of countless marching paws.
Hawkins rushed to and fro behind them, barking orders as he seemed to be the highest official left in the guard.
Sayna looked away from the town, not wanting to think about the foolish souls within, and their fate. She glanced behind her, then looked to Tynek. “Sandingomm’s not up here yet?”
He shrugged as Torrin climbed the ladder and hurried to stand nearby. “She said she needed to get something, I don’t know.”
Sayna just nodded, and took a deep breath as she met his gaze. She found her question mirrored there. Was this the end? After so much effort… this was how they died? He shook his head after a moment, and simply said, “I pray Ignasa has a favorable outcome in mind.”
Sayna nodded again, without a word. She looked back toward the town, as the Greeneyes army spread out around Theas-Lidir. They ringed the castle like ants to a hill, and Sayna could not deny the feeling of dull fear. Empty, undriven fear, yes. But this was different from standing on the bank of the Moss, watching uncountable soldiers approach. There, the forests stood at her back, endless stretches of uncharted trees. There, she could imagine escape, even if she hadn’t planned to take it.
But here, on the open plains, treed behind walls of stone, there was no such promise, and no such hope. Here she was trapped, and if the defenses fell, there would be no tomorrow. 
The army parted, those who stood level with the main gates. Three horses walked through, the center one a speckled, light gray. On its back rode a rat, one with brown, braided hair and black leather armor. She stopped her mount just out of range of archers, but close enough to call out. Her soldiers bunched around her in defense, and she met Sayna’s gaze. Then she raised a paw. “Surrender, and I’ll kill only your leaders. The rest I will spare, as my slaves.”
Tynek spit over the wall.
Sayna glanced over her shoulder, catching Hawkin’s eye questioningly. Maybe he’d like to surrender? But he just quickly shook his head. He kept his voice soft as he said, “No yer majesty. Once she knows what we have done, there will be no mercy fer us.”
Sayna just nodded, and turned a glare to the rat, who she assumed was the vassal named Jeralin. 
A scraping made Sayna look at the ladder, and she saw Sandingomm leap onto the gatehouse roof… holding Tsarmina’s head by the hair. Sayna gagged a little, and Rose yelped the tiniest bit, then sputtered, “Oh Sandingomm! Why?”
Sandingomm shrugged. “Intimidation tactics.”
The cat walked to Sayna’s side, and Sayna stepped away, trying not to look at Tsarmina’s severed head. Sandingomm placed her paw atop the parapets, yelling down to the rat. “Oh, you’ll be makin’ us slaves, will ya? Tsarmina tried that, an’ see what happened ta her!”
With that, Sandingom hurled Tsarmina’s head at Jeralin.
It landed surprisingly close, considering the distance. At least, Sandingomm had thrown the gruesome item far enough that Sayna heard cries and murmurs from the Greeneye army. Jeralin, on the other paw, seemed less concerned.
She glared at the head, then glared up at Sandingomm. “How kind of you, to do my work for me.”
Sandingomm wrinkled her nose in confusion, and Jeralin flicked her ears to the side. “She was pathetic. We all knew it. Now, your last chance. Surrender and give me my castle, and I’ll see your deaths are swift.”
“Yer castle?” Sandingomm leaned over the parapet, yelling, “Yer castle? This is me castle, as it was me father’s before me an’ I’ll give it ta no one! Neither will I lay down an’ die fer ya! Ya want a piece a me? You’ll have to take it! I’ll enjoy breakin’ that snotty face a yers!”
Jeralin’s look of calm vanished in an instant, and even before she spoke, Sayna guessed and dreaded her words. The rat pointed at the town, sneering, “Your castle, eh? I suppose these are your creature’s now?”
She jerked her horse’s head around to face her army as she barked, “Kill them all, every creature in that town! From the adults to the infants, leave not one breathing!”
And Sayna watched as the soldiers hesitated. At least they had a tiny bit of decency.
That hope was destroyed moments later as Jeralin kicked her horse and yanked back on its reigns in the same second, causing it to rear. 
“You saw what has befallen Tsarmina. I am your queen now, and unless you obey I will count you all traitors to the Greeneyes.”
As her horse lowered it’s hooves, Jeralin roared. “And I said to kill them all!”
Sayna felt her shoulders slump as the army obeyed, contingents breaking off for the town. Jeralin pulled her horse’s head around again, growling as she glared up at the creatures atop the gatehouse, Sandingomm especially. “I’ll let you listen, false queen. And know you caused their deaths.”
Sayna turned away from the wall then, and walked to the opposite one, the one that overlooked the courtyard. If she was to listen to more cries of the dying, she wanted to look at the ones she had saved.
She wanted to think of the battles she’d won, not the ones she had lost.
A paw gripped her shoulder, and she looked up at Torrin. He didn’t say anything. He didn’t have to. Sayna pinned her ears as she heard the first wails. She swallowed hard, and turned to face him. Then she leaned against him and clenched her eyes shut.
Torrin rubbed her arm after a moment. “We did all we could to save them, Sayna. It’s alright.”
“I know.” Sayna nodded, still keeping her back to the faint screaming. “But killing Tsarmina should have… stopped this sort of thing from happening and I…”
She broke off as Torrin hugged her. “Tsarmina was only the figurehead on the throne, only part of the problem.”
Sayna opened her eyes to see he glared over his shoulder at the outer wall. “So long as her mentality exists, we will always have need to fight.”
Sayna took a shivering breath, nodded, and straightened up. “I know.”
She shook herself, trying to block out the screams. Trying to convince herself that she had done enough. That she couldn’t do more. That creatures who did not wish to be saved couldn’t be saved. She tried to tell herself that each shriek and pleading voice didn’t break her anymore than she was already broken. She hadn’t even known those creatures, and they hadn’t listened.
But that was the problem with caring.
Sayna drew in a deep breath, and forced a smile for Torrin’s sake, to show him she was still sane. Then she drew back and walked for the wall, and he followed. Sayna lifted her chin as she rejoined the others. 
The screaming from the town faded not long after, and Sayna stared flatly down at Jeralin. Yet another selfish brat bent on power no matter the cost. Just another Tsarmina. The world had too many Tsarminas, and Sayna should know. She had started down that path, after all.
“Thank you, Ignasa.” Sayna prayed silently. “For beating some sense into me.”
She pushed herself up on the wall, shouting, “You would kill your own creatures?”
Jeralin smirked as she met Sayna’s gaze. “I would kill anyone who stands in my way. And all of you are in my way.”
She turned to her army, barking, “Form ranks!”
They did, without a word of complaint or a moment to hesitate. 
Sandingomm looked down at Sayna, nodding. “I see why they sent her ta lead the battle in Mossflower. She’s brutal… gets the job done.”
Sayna took a shaking breath as she laid a paw on the hilt of her sword, watching the Greeneyes swarm over the land. If she still had access to Bloodwrath… but then… hadn’t Ignasa said she held the key?
The Greeneyes came closer, and voices blurred into each other, shouted orders and murmured prayers.
She was immortal. She should be the one to fight. To die. Couldn’t she do that now?
In some fiber of her body or perhaps her soul, she felt it. A shiver, a darkness, an evil. Fear. It longed for her fear. It was starving, it cried in her head. So hungry.
The broken thoughts and images came to her in a rush then, a rush of pleas and promises.
Please. Please let it out. Let it save them all. She could do it. She knew how.
I don’t! Sayna protested, steeling her resolve against what wasn’t strong enough to be a voice, just a second mind thinking alongside her’s.
But she did. She did, didn’t she? If it came to the worst, she knew.
Trust fear instead of Ignasa. Break the promise. Unlock the door. It wasn’t hard. In fact, it would take only a second, and please let it go. Please let it go, and it would help, it could help. And it was so hungry.
“No!” Sayna yelled without meaning too.
She clenched her teeth and her eyes as she seethed one breath after another. She’d made a promise that day, and put her faith in someone outside of herself. She could go back yes. She could listen to fear’s siren whisper. She could ignore the King who had knelt before her and called her his daughter.
Sayna spoke softly through clenched teeth. “But what a vile traitor I would be then.”
She opened her eyes, staring straight ahead at the Greeneyes army and ignoring the stares of her companions. I choose Ignasa.
She looked to Rose then, asking, “Your archers?”
“Ah.. uh… yes.” Rose said, before looking around, then seeming to spot some farther down the walltops. She hurried off in their direction.
From out on the prairie, Sayna heard the barked order of “Sheilds up!”
Movement to Sayna’s right caught her eye, and she saw Tynek walking toward the ladder that lead to the courtyard. She ran to him, grabbing his arm. “Wait, what are you doing?”
He turned and met her gaze. “I am a king, and a Bloodwrather. I can stop this. I must stop this.”
“What do you think you could accomplish like that?” Sayna asked. “I thought of it too. But you’re injured and tired, and even Bloodwrath won’t carry you very far.”
Tynek shook his head, and gently pulled her paw free, before clasping it tightly. “I will watch no more die, sister. Too long I have done nothing. Too many times I have watched and stayed silent.”
He squeezed her paw, and smiled his faint smile. “Tell Rose I love her.”
With that he pulled his paw free and started painfully down the ladder.
“Tynek!” Sayna snapped, exasperation seeping into her tone. She followed him.
He started down the gatehouse steps as Sayna slid down the ladder, and gave chase. “Tynek you idiot!”
He paused halfway down to the courtyard. “You will make a good queen, sister. Do not follow me.”
“You are not doing anything that reckless by yourself!” Sayna growled, rushing down the steps to him. “If you’re determinded to do something dumb, I’m coming too.”
Tynek blinked at her, before sighing. “You care so much?”
Sayna rubbed her face on the fur of her arm, then rushed to him and hugged him. 
“Ow.” Tynek said, simply.
Sayna loosened her grip to hopefully not hurt him more. “I love you.”
After a moment, Tynek hugged back. Then he buried his face in her pauldron, and said, “It’s not that I wish to die. But they will break through the gates. If someone could kill the vassal… they might retreat. She is the last leader here, I think.”
He pulled away, meeting Sayna’s gaze steadily. “Even if we die. If we could do that much… the others can live.”
He smiled then, a sad smile, but an honest one. “Rose should live. Even if it is without me.”
Sayna took a shivering breath, and nodded. “Then let me die with you… my brother.”
It was not as though she didn’t feel the same. Torrin should live, even without her. Brek should too, and of course Rose.
For a second, Tynek’s brown eyes seemed to glisten, but he nodded. “That… would be nice. To not be alone.”
Sayna shook her head. “Ignasa is with us.”
“Ignasa is with us.” Tynek repeated, then faced the courtyard. “Come.”
And for once, Sayna followed him instead of the other way around. They walked to the gates, where creatures stood assembled, weapons already drawn. The crowd stepped aside for them, as they made their way to the front.
Sayna took a deep breath as she heard Rose’s voice from the walls. “Fire!”
Muffled as it was by the wall, the hiss of shafts filled the air, followed by clashes and cries.
Sayna drew her sword. Let Ignasa’s fire be the first thing the Greeneyes saw when they broke down those doors. She would see him again, at least. She would speak with him face to face when he took her back through the door of white thorns, to the high realms, and his land.
 
Let history tell our stories.
She readied herself, listening to the next rain of arrows. 
Let me bring honor to you, Ignasa. With whatever life I have left. Let me not look to fear, but to the courage only you can give.
It was easy to replay her memories now, to run through her hopes. They danced in her mind as she stared at the door. She would not stop. 
No matter how many arrows they shot into her, no matter how many swords ran her through. No matter how much it hurt, she would see Jeralin died, if Tynek could not.
A breeze rustled the strands of hair that had fallen in her face, and she took a deep breath of the morning, before the oddity hit her. She was in the walls of the castle, there shouldn’t be much of a breeze…
It came again, more direct this time. Directly from above.
She jerked her head up, but saw nothing outside of a pink morning sky. 
The breeze came again, sharp this time, so strong her decorative half skirt flowed out behind her. And she frowned, because she smelled smoke in that gust, smoke of cedar and pine, of the wild trees.
Tynek gazed around too, everyone did. 
Light filled the courtyard, brighter than the dawn. Sayna drew in a breath as none other than Argulor appeared in the courtyard, landing with a crackling rustle. He had to be Argulor, he couldn’t be anyone else, but he had changed. His feathers glowed bright orange from the inside out, his eyes danced and altered hue like a fire itself, and he’d grown. He nearly stood as tall as the second story of the keep, he had to be fifteen feet tall.
Sayna felt her mouth drop open as she called, “Argulor?”
“Not just me, noble lassie.” His eyes twinkled. “I brought backup.”
A figure vaulted from his back, but it never hit the courtyard stones. Blue light sparkled about his boots as Groddil stopped inches from the ground, floating as his wild black tresses flowed around him.
Argulor winked. “The lady Germaine might not approve, but this laddie was incessant. He said if I didn’t come with him he’d go without me, and I thought I shouldn’t let him have all the fun.”
Sayna stared at Groddil as he gently lighted on the ground, but his hair never stopped its eatherial floating. 
She took a single step toward him, asking, “Groddil?”
And yes, she knew it was him. The same build, though stronger, the same dark hair as he’d had when she was a kit. The same whiskers and species and bloodstained holes in his shirt where Ferran’s swords had impaled him.
But his hair fell along the ground behind him, and his eyes were pools of gleaming blue light. 
He walked toward her, steps completely calm. Sayna swallowed hard, blurting, “Groddil, I’m sorry. I let you down and I couldn’t save Asher…”
The crowd silently moved for him as he walked, draping hair a strange sort of train. As he passed her, he laid a paw on her head for just a moment, and said in a voice devoid of all fear or worry, “Be at peace.”
He continued toward the gates, stopping just before the closed doors as creatures scrambled to give him room. Groddil tilted his head back, calling, “Open the gates.”
Sayna stared after him, dumbfounded. This… was nothing like the Groddil she knew, and he had to be using Prophet’s soul.
Torrin stuck his head over the gatehouse wall. “Are you crazy…”
The words died on his tongue as he saw Groddil.
He paused, then vanished behind the wall. Moments later, Sayna heard the clanking of the drawbridge. She wanted to protest, but her vocal capability had dried up once she’d met Groddil’s eyes. All she could do was stare.
Because it wasn’t just him. Sayna didn’t know how she knew, yet she did. She had felt that presence before, when she sat with Ingasa in her soul, when they’d bound Bloodwrath. This was only a bit different, more like the raw glory of a Borealis. And just like the Borealis, Sayna couldn’t look away. 
She heard the drawbridge crash down, and Groddil didn’t wait. He thrust out a paw, and the bars of gates lifted, before both massive wooden doors swung open, and the portcullis raised.
Groddil walked forward with measured, completely calm steps. 
A smattering of arrows flew toward him, but deflected off a sheild of magic that materialized to physical eyes only in the seconds that an arrow struck it.
As Groddil walked past the portcullis, it came smashing down with a deafening clang. The noise broke Sayna from her trance, though only somewhat. Her movements still felt sluggish as she ran to the gates and gripped the old iron bars.
Some of the bolder Greeneyes had already rushed onto the drawbridge. Groddil made a swatting motion with a single paw, and all of them flew every which way, most splashing into the moat.
Sayna watched in awe as Groddil’s boot left the ground again, and he held out a paw, saying evenly, “Leave.”
The army hesitated. From somewhere in their midst she could hear Jeralin's yell of, “What are you doing, kill him! He’s just one creature!”
Ever obedient, the soldiers started forward again.
Sayna saw the ghosts of chains appearing around Groddil’s ankles and wrists, and she swallowed. His Prophet’s Soul had been powerful before, but now with the Borealis in his veins…
He swept his arm in a single, fluid arch.
Sayna really wasn’t sure how to rationalize what happened next. Light cut through the army, like the sweep of a blade’s trajectory. 
There were no cries, no screams, no wails of pain… just gushing blood as every Greeneye’s soldier Sayna could see broke in two, and collapsed. The screams began seconds later, but not from the dead, from the living. 
Sayna pressed her face to the bars, and she was fairly sure her mouth had come unhinged.
Groddil floated there, hair swirling behind him like a cape in the wind. And again, he spoke in that utterly calm voice. “Leave.”
This time, no Jeralin snarled contrary orders. This time, no one hesitated to listen. As one, the Greeneye’s army ran, what remained of it, anyway. They fled, coated in the blood of their companions as red drained across the trampled, dead grass and flowed into the moat in streamlets of scarlet. She watched as the water clouded with blood, then looked to Groddil. 
He lowered, his paws coming to rest on the drawbridge. 
Then, with a deep sigh, he collapsed.
Sayna felt her mind clear, and she clenched the bars between them, yelling, “Groddil!”
The portcullis began to raise with a slow clinking, but the moment she could Sayna squeezed under it, scrambled upright, and ran to Groddil where he lay on his side. She fell to her knees next to him, rolling him onto his back. 
Sayna stared at a face that looked so much younger than she was used to, and after a moment, he blinked, opening his normal yellow eyes.
He gazed up at her a moment, before asking gently, “Are you alright?”
She shook her head, then grabbed his paw. Really, what could she even say? Groddil sat up after a moment, looking around in confusion. He looked over the fields outside Theas-Lidir, and the once brown grasses, now slick and dripping. Groddil blinked several times, before scrambling upright, a glowing sword forming in his paw as he pulled Sayna behind him. “What happened here?”
Sayna stared at him, and from the concern in his now blue eyes, she found herself convinced that he truly did not remember.
“Um...:” Sayna met his gaze. “You happened, Groddil.”
“I…” He turned to the stained grasslands filled with bodies of the fallen. “I did that?”
Slowly, when no creatures rushed them, Groddil let his sword fade away. It seeped into his arm, and his eyes morphed back to yellow, the glow leaving them. “I… how?”
Sayna cocked an ear to the side, finally saying, “I don’t think I can really explain it. All I can say is it was the most magic I think I’ve seen anyone creature use… it was sort of like Pyralis, I guess. When he died.”
Groddil looked at his paws, then rubbed them down his face. 
Sayna could hear the tap of boots on the drawbridge behind her, but she didn’t turn to look. As Groddil lifted his head, Sayna looked away. “I’m sorry. For what happened to Asher. I wasn’t strong or smart enough… I failed.”
Groddil moved quickly, wrapping her in a hug. “Don’t blame yourself for that.”
He stepped back, shaking his head. “I will find Ferran. I will hunt him down and save that kit, even if I have to go to the underrealms and back.”
Groddil smiled softly. “But today I had another kit to save.”
Sayna felt herself shrink a bit. Because she didn’t feel worthy of that choice. Groddil turned to look at the carnage as he grimly said, 
“It looks like I succeeded.”
And he looked at her, and smiled. Sayna felt tears prick the backs of her eyes, because she found no regret in Groddil’s eyes, not even a shred of doubt that his choice was the right one. An arm touched hers, and she glanced at Tynek. He stared at Groddil for a moment, then knelt, bowing his head.
“Thank you.”
Groddil shook his head for a moment, before laying his paw on Tynek’s shoulder. “It is not right you should bow to me, king of the mice. Stand, for it was not I who saved you.”
Tynek slowly looked up, then stood and just nodded. 
They stayed like that for a moment, on the drawbridge of Theas-Lidir as the sun rose in the sky and blood ran into the moat, turning it red to mirror the corral dawn. Running paws made Sayna look up, as Rose rushed from the castle. She flung her arms around Tynek, eliciting a grunt of pain. But he relaxed when she kissed him.
Rose pulled back, still gripping the sides of his face as she asked, “Just what were you considering doing, Tynek Luke?”
Sayna blinked as Rose said his full name. Tynek did too for a moment, before laying a paw on Rose’s cheek as he pressed his forehead to hers. “Something I am glad I did not have to do.”
Rose just heaved a sigh, then melted against him. 
Sayna turned to face the courtyard, where she saw many familiar faces, just staring in shock at the way Groddil had positively laid waste and driven off what had once been the greatest army in the mid-lands.
Indigo, Spring, Solain, Dancer… friends she had faced death with so many times.
Spring broke the silence, as she leapt into the air with a wild whoop of joy.
And the courtyard exploded into cheers. Sayna felt the tears trickle down her cheeks then, even as she felt the grin spread across her face. She gazed down at the forgotten sword in her paw, and the silent blue flames licking merrily along the blade. They were merry, she knew. They felt her joy… everyone’s joy.
Sayna stared up at the sky for a moment, the pink blushed clouds no longer seeming a sign of doom, but hope.
“Thank you.” She whispered, too low to be heard above the roar of triumph. 
She sheathed her sword, and walked into the courtyard, leaving the bloodsoaked prairies at her back. As she stepped below the portcullis, she squeaked as someone grabbed her and swung her around, regardless of armor.
Torrin pulled her into a tight hug, one that she quickly returned. When he spoke, she could hear the emotion in his voice, just as the tremors in her own. “We won!”
Sayna clenched her eyes shut, before nodding. Because this time, victory felt like it truly was a victory.
==Chapter 63 To the Golden Dawn==
After our victory and subsequent celebration, I went to sleep. Honestly, I’m not sure how my body held out as long as it did. Though really, it's the others that shocked me the most. They aren’t immortal, so they should have collapsed. Adrenaline is an amazing thing.
The next five days we spent resting, and burying our dead. All the dead, actually, for we buried the Greeneyes in turn. Many suffered just as we, and I felt it fitting they have a little honor at the end of their stories. Well, accept Tsarmina. Germaine asked for her corpse, something about research. I couldn’t imagine what she’d want with such a mutilated body, but she pleaded. And really, what else were we going to do with her?
On the sixth day we… that is, Torrin, Rose, Tynek and I, returned to Brockhall. And the walls were white again. I cannot begin to say how much relief it brought me, to not see blood smeared over every possible surface.
The relief was completed when I stood in the great hall and looked through the glass windows, and all I could see of Mossflower still stood. 
It was just the final bit of happiness to enter my room and find my journal on my bookshelf.
This place really does feel like home. I never thought I’d say that, but it’s true. 
Argulor told us he did burn down an unfortunate amount of Hran-forias, in their struggle against the Greeneyes. He’s still graciously apologizing for it and doing all he can to help them rebuild. Redfarl and Birch survived, though I’m told the fight between Jeralin and the squirrels was a costly one.
I’ve been spending the days in the library; just taking some time to relax. I didn’t know how much I’d needed this, how much we all have.
Bella smiles anytime she sees me. Really, I have never seen her smile so much. 
I didn’t know she could.
But everyone smiles more now. Rose especially, I have the feeling Tynek asked her to marry him again while they weren’t drunk… or maybe she suspects he will soon. But he hasn’t come to me about it, and it’s not my place to ask. Gingivere’s up and walking again, though Germaine won’t let him leave the infirmary just yet. I’m bringing him books from the library every day. I know how boring being stuck in the infirmary can be.
Two weeks. It’s been two weeks since the Greeneyes kingdom fell and it still feels like a dream, like I’m walking on clouds. 
Even as I look over the forests from my seat here in the empty great hall, even as I watch dusk fall over the land and lanterns light up all around the lawns… it is hard to believe that this is all over. 
Tonight, a great council meeting has been called, on the first day of mid-winter. It feels like spring to me, though the air is cold. All 
Mossflower is coming, the vermin too, to celebrate. The festival of Ahio, a tradition not observed for thirty six years. Bella suggested it, that we should observe the long dead celebrations as a sign of our freedom.
It’s to be a smaller thing than the festival of warriors, but the pond has frozen over, and Bella says ice-skating is involved. I doubt 
I’ll participate in that. I’d absolutely fall on my face.
Torrin is going to make good on our first proper outing together, as he mentioned desiring. I’m actually waiting for him now. But in the meantime it is nice, to gaze out at the lights and think of how we are free; truly free.''
“Sayna?”
Sayna looked up from her journal, from where she sat on the marble bench by the great hall's massive windows, taller than most buildings ever hoped to be. She smiled as she saw Torrin walking toward her. “I was just mentioning you.”
She nodded to her journal, before snapping it shut and slipping it into the small satchel dangling from her belt. 
He pricked his ears up questioningly as she stood with a rustle of her long, feather-lined coat. She smirked. “Good things. How this was our first official outing.”
Torrin laughed then, and offered his arm. “Well let’s not spend it in the cold and dark. I hear there’s to be a bit of food at least.”
She took the arm, letting him lead her from the empty great hall, their bootsteps echoing in the large space. Sayna shook her head, saying, “I’m not sure how we have any extra food at all, really.”
His blue eyes grew a little sad, as he met her gaze. “So many died.”
Sayna felt her heart sink, and she nodded, looking away. “I can’t help but feel I should have done more.”
Torrin turned to her, and wrapped her in a hug, his gloved paw lingering on her hair. Sayna stopped walking and let him, the feeling of peace overwhelming her, as the sorrow shrank back into the crevasse of her subconscious.
Torrin spoke softly in the confines of the corridor in which they stood. “You were amazing, Sayna. You can’t deny it… you did more than most of us and pushed yourself too far for us all. I know that guilt is a hard thing, but you don’t need to live with it. Think about all the lives you did save. Think about how many kits get to grow up because of you.”
Sayna smiled, because she did know. And yet the dark whispers clung to her as she murmured, “Without a parent, yes.”
“The fact any of us survived is a miracle.” Torrin tightened his hug. “But I understand. No one goes through what we have without breaking a little more. That’s… living, you know. We did what I truly believe was best.”
Sayna nodded, because she did agree, even if part of her, somewhere deep down, whispered she was a failure. 
She pushed it down and clasped his paw in hers. And she didn’t have to force the smile she wore as she said, “Come. We have suffered enough, today we celebrate. And I’m not ruining our first date by moping over things I can’t change.”
He grinned and they left that hallway, and all sorrow behind.
It would wait for her, when she was alone. When she lay in her bed, listening to the sounds of water and memories, she would battle guilt again. Maybe she would never truly win. 
But for tonight, let it wait its turn. Because tonight was a night of joy.
As they walked into the cold night air, outside Brockhall’s southern entrance and onto the silver-white staircase leading down, a snowflake landed on Sayna’s nose. Torrin held out a black gloved paw, and caught one of the lazy flakes. He held it out, and Sayna grinned. “The first snowfall.”
Torrin nodded, remarking, “It came so much earlier in the north.”
“Do you miss it?” Sayna asked. “The north?”
Torrin blinked down at her, before shrugging. “Sometimes. A little. But Mossflower has treated me with much more kindness.”
He smirked. “And if I’m being honest, so have you.”
“I…” Sayna looked down. Then she smiled, and chose to accept it. “I am glad I have done a little good.”
“A little?” Torrin laughed, a truly happy sound as he pulled her down the marble steps. “Come, and I’ll show you just how much good you’ve done for us… all of us.”
Sayna hurried after him, gold and white feathers on her coat’s collar brushing past her face. As they neared the bottom of the stairs, the faint music that had been audible near Brockhall’s doors became clearer; the wild sounds of woodwinds, strings, and drums.
The creatures assembled parted for Torrin and her, and Sayna had to wonder if anymore males would attempt to ask her for dances. 
Probably, but it wasn’t as though she would listen.
But the creatures she saw gathered around the pond, it’s ice still faintly glowing, brought her a feeling of joy so raw that tears tickled in her eyes. 
Because they were all here. Just as in the memory that haunted Kotir’s dead halls, there was no distinction, and the vermin walked among them again. It wasn’t perfect, Sayna noted. Creatures still bunched together according to species at times, but it was something. It was a start. 
And when Sayna saw Sandingomm and Spring by the edge of the pond, laughing and talking, she felt reassurance in that. It might take time, but they would mend the broken bonds.
The other leaders stood around this area, and Sayna noticed Gingivere was here too, and Brek as well.
Brek grinned when he saw her, an honest grin, and Sayna realized how long it had been since she last saw such a look of joy on his face. Back in Evenglade, so long ago. “Sayna! You’re in time for Bella’s announcement.”
Tynek looked over his shoulder, and Sayna noticed he was there for the first time, dwarfed as he was by Gingivere. Wait, had he and Brek been talking? Did that mean they didn’t hate each other now?
But she didn’t have time to ask, as Bella walked forward, stepping gingerly onto the ice of her pond. She looked so oddly out of place on it, as opposed to how effortlessly she stood on water.
A call from her quieted the immediate area, as she spoke loud enough for all nearby to hear.
“I thank you for coming, though I wish this could be a grander celebration. I need not explain our reason for gathering, I believe we all know that, and soon, so will the rest of the lands. I commend all of you for your bravery, your nobility to stand against tyranny, or simply your openness to turn against all you’d ever known.”
Sayna drew in a deep breath, as more snow lit on her nose, sparkling in the lantern-light. 
Bella smiled, cupping her paws. “It was tradition, at Ahio’s festival, for Prophet’s with command of ice to grace us with their element's beauty. But long has Mossflower been without their elegance, and I certainly have no way of replicating it. Instead I call to the storm, and ask it to grant us a touch of winter’s grace.”
She held up her paws, saying in a much softer voice, “Glóir an gheimhridh.”
Sayna blinked as the snow increased in seconds, falling softly as it danced around on wind she could not feel. The flakes twisted and spun, forming scenes, pictures of the past. 
The glory of winter.
The swirling images of running horses, twisting dragons, or simply scenes of everyday life exploded into a wild swirl of flakes the moment a single paw or hoof hit the ground.
The display ended minutes later, leaving a thick layer of snow around Sayna’s boots, and a gentle, continuous fall floating down through the air. 
Bella took a moment, then bowed and said, “Ignasa ever be your light in the darkness.”
She stepped carefully off the ice, shaking snow from her frothy white hair. Sayna saw Groddil smile as the lady walked to where he and Luna stood. “Impressive.”
“Storm heeds me well, of late.” Bella sighed, then smiled. “I suppose that is to be expected for a time.”
Sayna glanced over at Sandingomm, as she walked over to Gingivere. She smirked at his wide-eyed wonder, and brushed a little snow off his nose. He shook himself, still seeming dazed.
Sayna took that cue to shake herself off in turn, and sprayed snow everywhere. Torrin laughed and stepped back, though white plastered him too. He grabbed her paw, grinning. “Let’s try skating.”
“Are you… I’ve never even done that before, have you?”
“Not since I was a lad… come on. What’s the worst that could happen?”
Sayna laughed, but followed. After all, he had a point. So she would fall on her face. 
For the first time in years, she’d do something new just because she wanted to. And faceplanting on ice seemed a small price to pay for a few moments of the kit-like enthusiasm she had given up ever feeling again.
== Author's Note ==
Ah. A story of reclaiming a life nearly lost. I want to note it’s taken over a year of my life to record, but it seems a good trade.
If I could I would write it forever. I would lose myself in the past, so I did not have to face what is to come. For stories are my way of reconciling what has been broken, by my paws or others, and it is my honor to write the words that still hold meaning.
I could exposit for hours on the lessons one might learn from these words and endless stacks of parchment they reside on. But I think if you haven’t figured that out from the words themselves, what will a few thousand more accomplish? The blind have sight, the seeing are blind, and this world is a twisted mess of a knot my old claws can never rightly untangle. 
Few will hear me, and I expect no less. I’ll just keep living, and writing, and remembering the truth that others forget.
But if you are one who can hear magic’s song in the very earth itself, and you heed it; if you are wise like a kit and believe what is said to be impossible… well.
I am here.
I am the fool who still believes in a dream.
If you look hard enough, perhaps you will find me. And if you look farther than that, my friend, I pray you find the one in who’s paw-steps I follow.
Until then, realm wanderer.
May Ignasa ever light your paths.
==The Author's Author's Note==
So I did this thing. I started December 26 2018, and finished May 8 2020. 1,403 pages and 572,342 words later, I finally have a solid first draft and outline.
This means, for the last approximately 71 weeks, I have written on average 8,050 words. So over a thousand a day. I believe I took a grand total of two days off because I was sick in that entire time. 
This draft was going to make or break me. And I'm happy to say that it made me. 
I've been going through a lot of personal things I don't really bother you guys with, and my life has truly been completely altered since beginning this draft. I don't even feel like the same person. I will be honest and say that the last few years have been very difficult health-wise, and sometimes things have to get worse in order to get better. This book has been my companion through it all. 
If there are inconsistencies… that can happen, and if some parts feel uninspired they probably are. 
I have been recovering from chronic illness this last year, and some days I did not want to get out of bed or even be conscious. But I did. Every single day I forced myself to put words on a page even if I hated everything I wrote. Because I'm in this adventure for the long haul, and I'm going to publish these books. Yes, they all need second, third, perhaps seventh drafts. Yes, I'll have to claw my way into the industry and carve my own niche in the market, and I expect that to be just as impossible as it sounds. 
But I feel this year like I've come back from the dead. And if I can do that, I can get a YouTube started and really grow our community here in the Saynaverse. And someday... I don't know when... but someday, I'll be ready to print these books out for you guys.
So to everyone who's stuck by me as I write and battle my chronic health problems (even if I didn't mention them lol) Thank you. Thank you from the bottom of my heart. If I seem impersonal or unresponsive at times... well... now I guess you know why. But I value you all, and your comments, and the fact that you like my writing. Sometimes it's hard for me to keep up with everything, and I really hate that fact. I hope that with YouTube and being to interact with everyone verbally will alleviate that. I just write so much every day on different projects… yeah. Writing even more is.... *sigh* XD
What's coming next, you might ask? 
The Warrior's Beginning, of course!
Hope to see you there, and thank you again, for following the Saynaverse as it leaves its fanfiction days behind forever, and becomes something totally its own.
Copyright disclaimer (just so we're clear)
(All ideas and characters are my original creations and are my original intellectual property, to which I own the right. All names belonging to Redwall and Brian Jacques are his and will be changed accordingly in future drafts. Do not repost any of my work without my express permission. Do not copy any ideas or characters directly from my writing. This is the one and only genuine first draft of Four Warriors Cometh posted publicly, if you should ever find a piece of it anywhere else, it is stolen, and I would like to be informed. My characters and settings are not to be used anywhere or in anything I have not done without express permission.
^^^ Sorry for that, I've just spent the last 17 months of my life working tirelessly on this, and yes, I have the receipts to prove it. Any copyright infringement will result in legal action and the posts containing this book being taken down. I enjoy sharing these novels with you all, but as they move away from fanfiction, they will be me and my family's livelihood in future days as I have made writing my career path. To be honest, I'm quite nervous to have them so freely available and I may remove these pages eventually. However, I understand that I have readers who want to hear the rest of the story, and so for a time, this draft will be available. It pains me to need to say all that, but this world is a crazy one, and these stories are as good as my children. I have to take some measure to protect myself, though hopefully, there will never be an issue. 
I do plan to interact through YouTube and possibly make copies of my books and their drafts available through Patron in the coming years. I'm not sure how I will share The Warrior's Beginning, but know that I'm writing it, and we'll figure it out :3
Love you all! Who knows? I might see you on the YouTube in a few days. *Wink* *wink* Well. Technically you'll be seeing me? IDK. Anyways. 
Godspeed my friends, and Fair Winds until then.
Sayna. S. Luke 
Untamed We are wild 02:43, May 16, 2020 (UTC)
Category:Four Warriors Cometh
Category:Sayna's Stories