The Butcher of A Monarch: Chapter Two.

Monarch's rise Keep was astonishing. It rivalled his own people's architecture in grandeur. However, it seemed too reminiscent; painfully so. It was like home, nearly, all be it in the wrong colour - this King clearly was droll. Smart, but droll.
The two little girls incessantly tugged on his hands as if that would make the plated figure move any faster - he was too engrossed in the levels. It went up, and up only to end in a massive piece of art strewn over the ceiling - a massive art on the battle of old. The uniters battle; the great King of the North was the centre piece. What looked like some form of deity beside him. It was unfortunately faded, it was a relic of ages long past. He seemed to doubt that anyone could ever reach up there now unless with some obscene ladder from where he stood. It seems he stumbled upon the throne room itself; or this was just how the castle had been lain out - or where he came in from. His guides were not very helpful, either, both tugging on plated hands and fingers trying to move the awed man.

The Throne room itself was lined with red carpets with black linings onto the old Throne of the North; the Winter King's metal throne. It was as black as obsidian and represented more than any of these Northmen could comprehend. On the sides depictions of mythical fables and beasts, paintings of all kinds and statues of each and every King that had ever reigned - and there was a lot of them. They stood on the sides of the hall, ever vigilant with marble eyes and stone swords.
His eyes drifted at the balconies and the deserted, silent halls. There was distant fighting, however. Seems his soldiers had not penetrated the inner courtyard yet and given steel clashed with steel, it was safe to assume there were still defenders It boded ill with him

*

"Come on!" The little brown headed girl exclaimed, followed by the blonde one's incessant pulling. They both groaned in annoyance at the 'old' man's antics.
"You said you're living here now! Look at it later, my room is this way!" The blonde one exclaimed. He surrendered to them easily enough; scorning a little girl was the last thing he wished to do.
"Wise as you are smart. Very well, I will stop gawking. Show me these illustrious, well praised quarters of yours then little ones." Enid smirked brightly and enthusiastically at the two girls who quickly dragged him forward, even if he was just walking; they wanted to be in control, he guessed.
Though something came into vision from his right peripheral and before he could react a crossbow bolt struck him in the chest. His armour caused it to bounce, but it damn well hurt. He ushered the girls forward, pointing ahead to the stairwell that was a good distance from the throne - there was a lot of room to work with, that was for sure. "Go! I will meet you up the stairs. Seems I am not very welcome."



The bells began to toll in the Keep's tower above them and from what seemed like beneath the very walls came the Black Knight's. The Grave Guard of the North.
From each corner of the giant hall came one Knight; the defenders of the ancient crypt below - all using secret passages of escape or tunnels; it mattered little as each and everyone struck fear into the heart of the Rider. He had not accounted for them and cursed.

The gruff voice of a gruff, steel armoured Knight followed. "Invader! Girls, to me!" Both of the little terrors glanced between the two before just running off up the stairs. Terrified.

"You-... you bastard! Die!" He readied another bolt in the crossbow though found his hands growing numb under the sudden chill. The man's fingers became stiff whilst the King manipulated the air in the room; turning it into a frigid landscape in seconds. Snow began to fall from the clouds forming around the second layer of the gargantuan Keep. He drew forth his blade.
The rasp of the large, thin blade leaving the icy scabbard sent chills through the spine of men and spirit alike. He donned his crown and moved to the centre of the room where Knight's began to surround him. The crossbow wielding Knight gave up trying to load the thing with the sudden chill forming through him and chose to use his shield and sword.

He was the first to attack. Enid held out his gauntlet to deflect blows whilst his sword was as long as any claymore but with no weight behind the mysterious metal. It made for a very deadly weapon. The first Knight charged, striking the magical shield and quickly met his end because of it. The King threw his gauntlet back and then cleaved into the side of his neck in a downward arc on the back-step. It slid across where his helmet met his neck and sliced through mail and bone alike. Enid pulled back in time to parry another Knight, sweeping blood through the air in a vicious parry. A blast of magic was enough to cave in his helmet, imbued into his fist. The man dropped dead, silent as ever. He was joined by the gargling man who had his neck rended. He plummeted to the ground, beneath the foot of the Throne of his Kingdom.

*


"A vow of silence for the darkness! I see, I see! Well then, come and face doom unkindled!" Enid drew back, though he was utterly surrounded at this point. Each crunching step of the Grave Guard was ominous enough. Enid knew he was a good fighter but he was no match for this many Knight's. The entire garrison of the Black devils. All silent, omniscient and angry. One lunged, breaking the ice. Luckily, the time spent spinning around gave him time to make a quick jump through the magic of souls and around, though it cost him dearly. He landed a small distance away on his knees. Breathless and exhausted, he had avoided the surrounding but now had a line of Knight's advancing towards him.

"GE'ES!" The King bellowed, spitting into his helmet in hopes his trusted advisor had not betrayed him. Or had betrayed himself. The ploys of home were always a worry, even for one with such overwhelming popularity as himself.

"Not the time. Come!" He bellowed, unleashing a wave of energy from his hands that held the Knight's at bay but didn't break their formation. The rippling in his hand grew further as he continued to throw deliberating magic but there was nothing he could do offensively. Knight's were trained the way of An'áh. Defence. Mage's the way of An'Yoh. Offence.

It was pointless now, he had his back to the wall with a column of Knight's preventing his escape. He could not use magic again, not without sucking his own soul from his body. It was hardly an option. He chose to die honourably.

Enid lunged at the first target then immediately broke the formation with his mass, barrelling through the middle Knight in the formation but quickly found himself surrounded. The magical shield was the only thing that saved him from immediate death, deflecting three calculated blows as the six grave Guard broke off into groups of three, each one covering the other in a disciplined fashion. These were not soldiers but monsters of war; trained to kill one thing. The Undead masses. The sharp rasp of steel trailed over the gaps in his ceramic steel plate, slicing through into his flesh - his eyes widened from his mask before he erupted in a blast of frost, sending each Knight and their own to the ground. It was enough for him to stagger forward and prepare for another defence.
It was a hopeless advance, he swung and struck a shield only to find his sword being dragged away by two other swords and shields - he only barely managed to retrieve it and riposte. He struck a Knight's helmet and sent him straight the floor, only to have him get back up again and hang back in the row; he was reeling from the blow, that much was clear. He went again only to feel a sword burrow into his armour from below, a sword sent straight through his plate and into his flank, it send him reeling, though the recovery was swift and his blade slammed into another neck just by sheer range of his mighty, frost-ridden sword. It sent spikes of ice into the man's neck, suffocating him slowly in his own blood - he dropped to the floor. One death was not enough to save him. He found himself in an awkward position only to take another few blows, each one hitting him harder and harder to the point of exhaustion. Most wounds were benign but the weight of his shielding, the casting, the fighting. He cried out once more.

"GE'ES!"

His icy voice bounced off the walls, the Sorcerer hummed and looked around - soon enough he heard it, the King's command, coming through the web-way to his ears. Without a thought, he weaved a portal through his fingers to drop down in the middle of the fight, in-front of the king. To the dismay of the sorcerer, swords were flying in his direction as he landed. His armour absorbed them all, which the black Knight's seemed to have no idea what happened and retreated back swiftly, reforming back into the five-man line. Readying to fan out and surround. Ge'es didn't need to use a sword and promptly showed the Knight's the power of magic. Walls of ice began to trickle around them before ultimately closing it - the floor of the castle was demolished in the mighty spell. No Knight screamed as the walls came in around them, they simply looked and prayed. Dropping to a knee with sword-outstretched. Faith was their shield.

It was a poor shield.

*

Enid sheathed his sword, limping his way back to where he had started on the precipice of the throne, it was elevated by thin stair-ways, to symbolize noble status. Each step had three steps, then a platform - this continued all the way to the door. Or it once did, Ge'es spell had destroyed much of the lower platforms and parts of the gateway. A short price to pay for not dying. The Sorcerer assisted his King to the black Throne of ages and set him across it, going to tend to his wounds with a tracer spell whilst the bleeding, battered Lord of the Void rested in the big chair. Now the fighting had stopped the two little girls cautiously approached the Sorcerer from behind before poking out from his legs to peer at the King, laden on the Throne of King Leofric, which confused them.
"You can't sit there! Only the King can!"

Enid peered at the girls through the mask of his glowing crown, he smiled and replied in a deep, echoing tone due to his crown.

"I am the King now."

Chapter 26: Outside Monarch's Rise

Leofric pulled in the reins and his armoured destrier obediently stopped. Behind him the order to halt resounded down the massive column and the marching cacophony of the army soon stopped. The king had brought the army up to a range of rolling hills near five miles away from Monarch's Rise, and from here he had an excellent overview of the nightmare in the distance. The once mighty capital had been defiled by wicked sorcery - its high walls had turned to sheer ice and increased two-fold in size. The snowy fields and trees outside the city were afflicted by some otherwordly purple taint, and they were infested by hundreds of shambling corpses. Leofric twitched a frown at the sight, he presumed the undead horde is what remained of the city garrison.

"Riders approaching!" a voice bellowed behind him. Leofric looked over his shoulder and saw a line of riders carrying the king's banner nearing. The horseman at the front held in a helmet of sorts by his side and his horse eventually stopped next to Leofric's own. The rider stared ahead at the twisted scenery and turned the ghastly helmet around in his hands.
"Well... I don't know what to say about that." Arthur said with some delay. He then glanced to Leofric and held up the helmet to show. "It was a successful hunt, anyhow. Now there's a few less of their patrols out there to terrorize the good people of this country." Arthur grinned and subsequently swung the helmet down the hills. It bounced lightly a few times before stopping.

Leofric nodded and shifted around in the saddle. "Their leader said he would release the captives. Did you see any sign of them?"
Arthur hummed in reponse. "I did. Two-thousand of them, further west. Seems our uninvited friend stayed true to his word. I sent the majority of my men to escort them to safety."
"Good."
"So, what happens now? Are we going to kick out this crook? Those ice walls look tough."
"We'll establish a solid frontline to keep them contained inside the city. As soon that is done I will send men north to summon reinforcements and our siege weapons."

Leofric exhaled irritably and turned his gaze from the city to the knight at his side. "Give the order. The sooner we're set up the better, this weather could turn to their favour at any moment."
Arthur bowed his head and turned around to shout out a series of orders down the column of footsoldiers and horsemen. The orders were in turn carried on by the officers and soon the massive formation begun to dissipate as the soldiers moved off to establish their siege lines. Leofric remained on the same spot and tightened his grasp around the reins. Deep down he felt a tingling fear, but not over the inevitable battle. His daughter had been in the capital. The fleet he dispatched had been ordered to blockade the city by sea, but in addition to that he also commanded Admiral Aversbury to safely get the princess out from the city.

He muttered a prayer to the Lady, hoping that Josephine's guardian had been successful in leading her out through the secret tunnels.

-

Eliana sat on the bed, listening to Sekaia rushing around the tent. Though she didn’t have too many belongings, Sekaia was taking his dear time. Finally he stopped, turning his head to the entrance of the tent. Footsteps approached the tent, along with the sound of someone most likely dressed in heavy armour. Ellie looked around in panic, trying to listen for Sekaia.
Sir Leon stepped inside the tent, raising an eyebrow. The knight narrowed his eyes at the girl and the packed satchel next to her.

“Are you going anywhere, My Lady?” he spoke with a wary voice, tapping the hilt of his beloved sword.
Eliana looked around, shaking her head in a hint of confusion. She rubbed her hands together whilst she felt her face heating up.

“Uh, no. Nowhere.” She nodded towards the general direction of Sir Leon. The knight stepped further inside and glanced around the tent. Within the same seconds, Leon scoffed to himself, turning to Eliana.

“There’s something peculiar about you, Lady Eliana. I advise you to stay honest in the presence of the Fire.” The knight approached with an even more stern expression. He drew out roundel, placing it gently against the girl’s cheek. She almost squeaked as the blade touched her, and the girl quickly froze as she realized what it was that had touched her cheek.

“What are you?” the knight almost snarled at the girl, before the cold touch against her face disappeared. Sir Leon rose up and began to cough. Strange noises escaped the man, as he dropped to the ground and became silent. As confused as ever, Eliana reached for her satchel.
A small breeze filled out the tent, as Sekaia appeared before the collapsed knight and blinded girl.

“We have to go.” The man grabbed the girl and her satchel, pulling her along with him. The night had come, laying the land in darkness. Eliana seemed to eventually sense the scent and noise of a horse, before her hips were rudely grabbed, and she was tossed upon the horse. She felt a figure pull itself up and place itself in front of her, which she assumed was Sekaia. With a small whip of the reigns the horse trotted forward. Eliana threw her arms around the man as she had pulled her hood. In the slight race of panic she checked for her satchel, which rested at her side.

Eliana lowered her voice as they rode through the camp, blinking her blind eyes. “What’d… What’d you do to him?”

Sekaia scoffed, riding ahead with his hood lowered as well. “He’ll be alright. Don’t worry about these people. “ He paused as they passed two soldiers. “They don’t understand our purpose.”

A distant shout caused panic in the fort. The horse picked up it’s pace as Sekaia attempted to proceed without further any problems. A few knights ran towards the shout, shouting out as well. The voices spread throughout the camp and with a kick to the side, the horse went into gallop.

“Halt! Don’t let them pass!” an archer shouted out, as he raised his crossbow and fired away. The bolt flew right past the couple as they charged through the limit of the encampment around the fort.

“Stop!”

Later, in the wilderness

There had been silence between the two since the discreet escape. They neared the edge of another forest and Ellie could hear howls in the distance, sending a chill down her spine. She nudged closer to Sekaia, taking in a deep breath. An endless amount of questions ran through her mind, until she finally settled on one.

“Where are we going?” she muttered out, having rested her head on the back of Sekaia.

The older Walker looked around, before answering. He squinted his eyes towards the forest.
“Further north. Some of the Walkers have gathered. The Grandmaster… A few of the veterans, and the councillors.” He muttered back.

Eliana yawned silently, before her mind started thinking again.

“That… The Grandmaster gathers the councillors and the seasoned Walkers… What am I to do there?” Ellie lifted her head slightly, though not bothering to raise it any further.

“Your teacher is… Incapable of teaching you any further. You need a new one.” Sekaia coughed, nodding to himself.

“It’s not the Oku’tcha, is it?” Eliana raised her head up, looking towards the voice that spoke.

Sekaia Lesundos sighed at the girl. He muttered to himself before saying anything.

“I suppose you deserve to know. Strange things are happening up north, and some of the Walkers wish to… Engage, in the events.” Sekaia lowered his voice as his sentence came towards an end.

“What?” Eliana almost dared not ask.

“They want to fight. There are rumours between the Walkers, especially with the strange death of your master. They believe someone has betrayed us.” Sekaia rested his hand upon his lap, still scouting around.

Sekaia continued again, as the horse slowly trotted away. “We’re few, and we’re falling apart. Some doubt the true purpose of Andalus.”

“And… “ he sighed. “Some of them, believe you took Jonius’ life.”

Eliana froze, once again. She could barely speak a word.

“W-… What?”

Miriam
Chapter 22: Brothers dear

She could probably outrun this man, although he seemed agile, a hunter undoubtedly, but his bow was larger and sturdier than Miriam's own, and the sword that he carried would slow him down as well. She would have to slink in between some houses if he tried to shoot at her with it. Perhaps it was even possible that she could draw her knife before he co- The man laughed, which interrupted her thought process.
"I know what you must be thinking but you need not worry, I'm not dangerous..." He paused and pondered his statement for a minute before correcting himself with an allowing sway of the hand.
"Well. I most certainly am dangerous - You can see that, you know a killer's face when you see it." He smiled ruggedly down at her and tugged lightly on the sash that held his bow. "Don't you?" He inquired. Miriam blinked and without thought she found herself answering.
"Yes." She struck a frown and regretted immediately having replied, she took a step forward, head lowered and attempted to pass the hunter. He remained in the way, even leaning his hand against the wall that stood at their side to block her path. She considered for a moment to duck beneath it but didn't want to give him the satisfaction, she raised her head and stared up at the taller man.
"Let me pass." She said sternly. He quirked his sly smile, this close she could smell the forest on his body and the alcohol in his breath.
"Sorry. No can do. You see, I've got a job to do."
"What do I care?" Miriam replied. She was getting frustrated now.
"Well. Far as I know, you could be working with the Black-Robes." The man lowered his gaze and scanned Miriam for a short while. "Though, I've never seen any lovely women with 'em before..." That was about as much as Miriam was going to put up with. She grasped the hunter's arm and she jerked it up so that she could pass, she twisted and ended up on the opposite side. The man had stumbled, lost his footing since he was leaning against the wall and he scrambled to adjust his feet now without the balance. He looked to Miriam as she was already leaving. Leia had rushed around the other way and already exited onto the main street and Miriam was quick behind, she turned and spared the man a look.
"Lovely enough for ya?" She laughed but was cut short as the man had refocused far more quickly than Miriam had anticipated, now he came running after her without remorse. Miriam twisted her feet into the snow and performed the self-defense art taught to her long ago which she had now perfected through years of training; Running.



Miriam had been right, she was faster. Leia ran by her side, the dog could easily outrun Miriam but kept pace, she sent a jolly bark over to Miriam but grew silent as she quickly realized that this moment was one of seriousness. Miriam entered the main street, which for the town was admittedly rather wide. She sprinted across the snow-covered cobble path, kicking up snow as she did, she held onto the sash of her swinging bag and more than once got hit by the tip of her bow in the head. She looked back as she had come across the path and she saw the man coming after her, he shouted something into the air though Miriam did not pay attention to what. She turned back and headed inbetween two wooden houses, the alley was very narrow and Leia came in after Miriam. There was a wooden fence that jutted out of one of the houses, hay littered the ground, it was probably a stable of some kind. Miriam braced and then sprung over the tall fence, she slid on the snow when she landed and looked back to Leia, but the dog had already pounced across the fence with similar ease, the large canine landed next to her and again barked excitedly, she even skipped about some. Miriam moved her gaze and looked to search for their pursuer but there was no sight, she turned and jogged at a brisk pace down the alleyway, if she could get further away from here she'd feel so much more safe.

She came down into a crossroads, the alleys criss-crossed between the few houses of the town and she was in the center of it, when she looked down one of the paths she could see that it shone white as the sprawling landscape glistened with snow and sunshine. She turned and looked down another, it looked much the same - Until he appeared, it was the hunter, his grizzly face was hard to distinguish but she had no issue recognizing him. He cupped his hands together and hollered.
"Suggest that you stop running now, missy."
"Suggest that you... Are dumb!" Miriam cringed, this is why she didn't talk to people. The hunter laughed, and so did the warrior. It was much more baritone but unlike the hunter this seemed jolly.
"Wouldn't be so sure, Hal. Black-Robes usually are more verbal than that!" Miriam turned and noticed that another person had entered the alleyway from where she had first looked, the man was a giant. Wide, tall and dressed in what must have been the pelt of some gigantic bear, just the size that she had seen Eliana destroy before. The giant swung his weapon around, it was a halberd, taller than the man which said quite a lot, it ended in a jagged edge that would be able to utterly ruin foes in wide spaces - But this alley was anything but that.
"Quite a simple rule." Said the hunter known as Hal. He talked to Miriam directly and did not respond to the giant. "Either you're from this town and one of us, or you're one of them." Miriam could see the smile from here and she hated it.
"I am nobody - What are you babbling about?!" She shouted in anger, and Leia growled at her side.
"We'll just let Royal decide." She could hear the giant say with his large voice. "Give up, little lady." He said, as well.
Miriam had since her last imprisonment grown to resent any who wanted to decide her fate. Her course was her own and anyone who tried to seize it would simply have to stand aside.

Miriam drew a quiet sigh and locked her eyes upon the hunter, he would have to be her first target, the most dangerous one at this range. He caught her glance, no doubt recognizing it as one of his own, when a hunter has locked unto their prey. He was fast on the draw but his bow was too large and his fur cloak got in the way so Miriam was that much faster, her shortbow had been pulled off her bag in a moment and with it a single arrow, Miriam drew back and let go without aiming any more than her instinct allowed. She heard a thump and a loud groan, Hal fell backwards, Miriam did not know where she had hit him but she had to assume he was down for the count for now. Leia had reacted as per their usual tactic and sprung like a dart toward the fallen prey the moment Miriam's arrow had landed, she approached the fallen man quickly. Miriam quickly turned, already hearing the thudding steps of the giant man as he rushed toward her.
"Really shouldn't have done that!" He said, and he seemed sincere in his regrets. Miriam had turned quickly and the man was still approaching, she drew another arrow and quickly pulled her bowstring back, she aimed for the head of the man first out of instinct but her mercy spoke up. Could she really judge any killer of men ever again if she passed this threshold, if she took a life? The life of a person... She snapped out of her thought and let her arrow loose, her philosophical rambling didn't matter, as the giant rose his halberd and used it to block the arrow, Miriam gritted her teeth and braced to run the opposite way but it was too late now. She took two steps before the halberd came down, this was how she would die... She could hear as it tore through the cold air, the man swung it down with amazing speed that came with his charge - That would be her chance, instead of running Miriam took the harsher decision and ducked, she fell to the side, rolling onto the ground next to the man and his blade. It had thumped into the ground where she had stood, he had struck with the blunt side first. He didn't mean to kill her, she realized. Miriam looked at the man and he looked back at her, he then, without remorse raised his foot and sent his padded boot straight into her face. Miriam jerked back and slid a few inches just from the impact. Her head rang and she tasted blood, she could hear Leia bark in the distance of her mind...

"What do you mean she's coming here?" Ge'es said, coldly - there was fear in his tone. "How? Only I know how to weave through the void. Bah. Head-Enchantress? More like-..." He felt a prick on his neck, then peered down the length of the house the men had refurbished into a tavern. It was homely he thought, in fact, even the King had come to see their new abode to show a sign of faith, hence why he was even here. There was little else to do now so each and every man was un-armoured, well dressed and jolly. Drink and song was flowing aplenty. Though there was an avid complaint about a lack of women.

Ge'es had taken to occupy the far booth so he could sit by the fire in a high-bank chair. "So when is she arriving, then?" Enid sneered and laughed, tapping his fingers against the wide table as he sit across from the advisor. His crown was tilted on his brow; being the one he pilfered from the throne room of the Northern Kings no less.

"What? Not a fan of my Queen? Go on, finish your sentence." The King nodded, grinning stupidly. Ge'es just grinned back, standing he bellows to the tavern.

"All hail Queen Hei'ann! Queen of magic and icy rage!" He raised his mug and laughed aloud, his tone was in jest as the rest of the Knight's soon realised after a brief silence and then the tavern broke out into an uproar. The music went even louder to compensate. Enid seemed to find it deftly amusing, slamming his hand into the table whilst rolling his head back in laughter; which just spurred the men on further by example. The Magus grinned and sat down, taking another draught of the northern mead the men had taken a great liking too. The uproar ended gradually as everyone else returned to their loud discussions.




"She will be here this evening." Enid paused, pointing at him. "Keep your tact and do not cause another faux pas." The King's tone was stern and he knew not to question it, thus bowing his head obediently. But this was a time for jests and amusements, so he pushed it some.
"One must admit she did start the first-... brawl? I would call it a brawl. She flung a spell at me that nearly tore me asunder!" Ge'es quivered his lips, he still felt the pain of that day. Enid smirked triumphantly.

"And in her defence, I will add that it was you whom provoked her into doing so. You did not need to have a battle of the ages in my damn Throne Room. I had nobles crying out for -both- your executions."

Ge'es laughed wholeheartedly, making the King snicker. "The noble council cries out for everything and gets nothing. So why did you chose to punish no-one?"
The King just shrugged, pointing at the ceiling before taking another deep draught of the mead. #

"I could not be bothered, really. Plus I have to sleep with the woman; if I tried to have her arrested I would, for one, fail. Then end up with a scorned, fiery brunette in my covers. I think I would prefer to leave my bed warm and happy rather than on fire. Or not at all." Enid sighed, rubbing his eyebrows.

"Women."Enid rolled of his tongue. Ge'es couldn't help but agree, snickering loudly. He quaffed from his mug.

"Can't say I envy you for that."

"That is because everyone woman you have designed to court ended up either running away to the distant realms of who-knows-where or died horrifically." His pause was meaningful and he sounded more like the friend he used to be than the King he knelled before years past. "You really need someone... plain. It will counter-balance in the right way, I am certain. Not that I will help you - last time I tried the council scolded me for 'interfering in un-Kingly business.'" Enid grunted, taking a look around the noisy tavern once more - Ge'es followed his gaze as the silence lingered between them to notice that the cards and dice had been put out. The trusted and tried old games never failed and it caused more than a few curses or forced drinks.

By now he was sure they had already conquered this drink, though the tingling in his fingers and swimming head quickly proved otherwise. His gaze met the King's for a moment as he leaned back in his high-bank chair. "Maybe."

"Maybe what?"

"Maybe I should try, after we're done here. If we're ever done here. It seems hopeless, really. Our kindred tried eons ago and failed. What has even changed?" He sensed Enid's pride building up and probably a speech to come.

"Because I am leading us this time. Because the conjunction is about to trigger and -then- we act. Once-... what am I saying, you already damn well know what we're doing. If not, we'll have to wait another godless age for it to happen again. Which won't happen." He sighed, rubbing his forehead. "We've already lost our homeland and now we're stuck in a dimension one man and one woman can traverse out of because of our ancestors being utter cretins."

"We trusted 'gods' once. My father told me that on his death-bed, of all the Spirits and their grand plans. Now half of them are mad and the other half are deranged beasts. With, what, the one's that linger here uncorrupted?"

"Indeed. We've one, now. You saw it-.. her... whatever it was."

"I believe you remember me removing her from that insufferable prison, no? Only to put her into another one."

"I would say it was willing, really. She didn't argue - or speak, or do anything. All she did wa-..."

Ge'es interrupted him, with a half laugh. "Touch your face and make you fill your pants!"

The King was not pleased with the comment as he threw a punch and missed spectacularly. "Bastard. I was already near death at the time - I still feel the blade slices everywhere, too. It was-... it was an ethereal moment. We -need- them to do what we've worked so hard to do. None of these primitives will understand and we need a large staging ground. This was the first stop, now we just need to-... you know."

"I do. I think it folly, but we are still missing vital components and the conjunction is nearing. It's very near."

"You sense it, do you?"

"Not per-say. More... it's inevitable and everytime reckless Queen's tear the world asunder to meet their husbands, it only makes it worse. Coming here with as many people as we did was extremely risky. You didn't even tell them the risk; we all just followed blindly."

"Because I told them too. Everyone was sick of waiting; the people cried out to me to do -something- this time. Not so we could run away again. Once we've gotten every piece of what we need, then they'll remember me as the King that stood his ground; one that said no and fought back."

"It was why I followed you, indeed. That and I would dare say you are some fool of a friend I made, Prince." Ge'es sighed as he reminisced, smirking bitterly. "Your father hated me to the end, too. He hated everything."

"He was a bitter old man. But he knew what he was doing - we built up, he entrusted me with the plan. His plans, not mine; I would of botched this if not for his guidance."

Ge'es went silent, as did the King whilst the tavern raged on around them - drink flowed, cards piled up and the odd man that couldn't hold his liquor collapsed to the floor only to be dragged out by his comrades for a cruel punishment to the weak - which was probably going to be something hilarious; the men had a humour for things like that. Two mugs were set down onto the counter by one of the other Knight's, bowing to both the King and the Royal Advisor.
"My Liege, Your Excellency. Mead for you. We're nearly down to the last barrels in this place; I'll send the men out tomorrow to search for more - think this will lay us by for today, at best." He glance behind him at the conclave of men drinking to their hearts content.

"Maybe not." Enid smiled, taking the mug after downing the other. "Indeed. True you are. Have the men on-duty search for it. Divert a patrol or two to start ransacking the town. Do not burn anything down, Captain. We've already had a few fires and they were annoying." The Captain nodded, bowed and then departed to go do as he was commanded.

"Bottoms up, then." Ge'es said, going to down his other mug to then start dishing into the other more than eagerly.

*

By evening the tavern was even louder and the amount of drunk men in one place was staggering. Enid lay his head on the table, groaning and Ge'es stared gormlessly at the fire, half asleep. It was safe to say the mead, now completely dry, had made felled the Knight's of Red and Black. The only thing that roused the King from his nigh slumber was the sound of the door opening and the rattling of a chain; he knew full well what that was and then looked at his advisor for support - it was not answered. "You... bastard. Damnations." The King grabbed onto the edge of the table and pushed it out the way, locking the passed-out Magus into his chair awkwardly then made his way over to the door.

Before even taking a few steps he saw her, crowned and dressed up as ludicrously as most aristocrats were. The Queen was short of stature and thin, dangerously thin - he swore she was like a twig half the time but her violet eyes, smooth visage, flowing brown hair and a dangerous smile was all that he wanted to see. Her garb was a icy-blue dress with the odd spikes coming from the shoulders that acted as pauldrons but probably made going through doors awkward, he seemed to conclude dumbly in his head. The rest of it was golden embroidery of the puffed up and rather tactful attire of the Queen, it almost looked as if the thread and cuffs were silver but he knew it was just thread; his wife had a thing for silver thread. Everything had to be that colour or of moonlight or she was not pleased, for accessories at least. The past few years he had learned that when buying her clothes or jewellery. Not that it stemmed the fire in the little icy Queen of his.

"You're drunk." She said, with a stare that made him want to keel over.

"... We were celebrating-..." He paused to hiccup into a hand. "...your arrival! And here you are with such... lovely company. Did you have to bring all of them? I-.. It was dangerous."

The Queen face-palmed and looked back at the royal handmaidens and namely the -entire- council of Magi that were looking at the drunken stupor of people in the place with disgust; it was hard to please Mage's that did more research than anything else. "You disgrace yourself, husband. We can talk tomorrow. Point me in the direction of my quarters and -I- will do your work for you, pompous oaf. Where's Ge'es? I want him with me t-... oh, of course." She spied the drunken man in the highbank chair, making her want to facepalm again but it would likely upset her make-up balance too much - she already had a subtle hand-print on her face. In Enid's great wisdom, he went to go run a knuckle down the woman's cheek, which she didn't refuse but the stare she gave him had more venom to kill a man.

"I-... missed you."

She sighed loudly, going to knock his hand away subtly. "And I you. Now shut up, stop grovelling and point me where I need to be. Unlike some, I have work to do." Enid rolled his head back and shouted for a Knight, just in general - he bellowed so loudly it silenced the room which was already getting more and more quiet, due to the presence of nearly twenty or so delegates and cabinet members - even drunk Knight's knew not to upset such people in the aristocracy. An armoured fellow eventually marched up from the other room where the men whom did not partake in the consumption of alcohol decided to reside. He kneeled before the King and Queen then just followed the Queen's orders as the world went blank.

The King of the Riders of Red and Blank, head of the Aristocracy and Sovereign of the Hunted fainted. Ge'es woke up at the thud, only to faint as-well - falling face first onto the floor after hitting the booth.

Chapter 27: North & South

The door to the cabin swung open and the rugged captain took a few steps inside. With a hand still upon the door's handle he bowed his head in turn to the princess and her knight. "Princess. Sir. We're here." The officer announced prior to disappearing back to the main deck. Josephine had already prepared herself to depart the ship. Since she first had seen the landmass appear in the distance through the cabin's windows she had been eager to set her feet upon solid ground again. She despised ships, they made her feel exposed and vulnerable upon the vast nothingness that is an ocean. But now she was finally getting off the damn thing, and she swiftly tugged on her black leather gloves and threw the fur cloak around her shoulders. Sir John, too, was ready. Her guardian stood near the cabin's entrance, clad in the same dark leathers as before. He smiled thinly as the princess approached and parted his lips to speak.
"Are you ready?" Josephine nodded strictly and silently, and Sir John could tell that if she did not get off the vessel at once she might very well leap out through the nearest window. The knight gave a nod in return and thereafter marched out from the cabin with the princess in swift pursuit.



The cold breeze and salty scent washed over her like a tidal wave as soon she stepped out upon the main deck, and the sound of bickering seagulls reached her ears. The crewmen were too occupied to prepare the ship for mooring to pay the princess and knight any attention - except the captain. The sailor sauntered over to the duo and turned around to stare out over the intimidating crags reaching up on the ships' portside. Josephine followed his gaze and soon saw the towering walls appear amongst the rocks. The fortified harbour-town of Cliffport rose up subtly within the bay. A multitude of ships laid in dock, primarily warships that were preparing themselves for conflict. Josephine continued to scour her gaze; she could make out the guards patrolling on the walls, the merchants pulling their carts and fisherman reeling in their lines. Further up she saw the town expand with various larger buildings, which she presumed were manors of some sorts and perhaps a town hall. At the far end of the bay stood the lighthouse steadily upon the top of the deadly cliffs.

Josephine huffed a breath and made her way over to the side with Sir John follwing behind. She was young, and to some, inexperienced. But she knew exactly what to do the minute she was off the board. She smiled to herself as the ship closed in towards the docks.

*

"Do they even know we're here? Reckon they can't see much behind those walls..." Arthur muttered sullenly to himself, though he had been loud enough for the few men nearby to hear him, and they joined him in quiet compliance. Arthur pulled his cloak further around him against the cold - the endless cold and snow that seemingly had afflicted the land around the capital city. It was a nuisance to the northmen, regardless how used they were to the toughest of winters. At least the snow did not impede them in times of war as severely as it did to the southern nations. Irksome as it was, they learned how to most efficiently maneuver around and wage battle in the snow a long time ago.

The sound of footsteps approached Arthur from behind and the small band of soldiers closeby bowed their heads after looking towards the same direction. Leofric halted next to Arthur and frowned bitterly at the icy walls a few miles off into the distance. The king broke the silence after a short while. "Still nothing?"
Arthur shook his head. "No. Dead as the grave is what it is. Don't even know if they're aware we're here. If they do, they've certainly not made any notice of it yet."
Leofric snorted and glanced aside. The entrenchment stretched to either side for hundreds of meters and ultimately curved around the vast camp to protect it from the sides, reinforced with barricades and wooden stakes.
"We'll test the strength of those ice walls when our siege weapons arrive. But even if they refuse to falter there are other ways into the keep. I presume that you know of them still?" Leofric turned his attention to the knight beside him, who nodded.

"Indeed, sire. Give me a hundred men and the knights and I'll make their lives terribly sour." Arthur replied with grim determination. Leofric would've scoffed at any other man's claim at such, but he knew Arthur's leadership and skill at arms, so he simply nodded instead, content with the answer.

"Perhaps the Lady will even offer you her blessings."
Arthur grunted. "I still know preciously little about this Lady."
Leofric placed his left hand on the pommel of his blessed sword, forever radiating in a bright, gilded flame. "I'm certain she will make herself known to all eventually, just like she did to me. She will guide us to victory against this wicked foe that we now face, that much I know."

Arthur nodded and leered off towards the capital's witchcrafted walls of ice. "I hope so. We'll need it against this."

Her gaze was locked upon the never-ending darkness that had befallen before her eyes. She heard sounds, felt the wind and sensed her surroundings – but yet, they were lost in the black colour that had overtaken her eyes. Wherever she looked there was nothing, never-ending nothing. Eliana had risen her head back up, shoving herself a small bit away from Sekaia, on the horse. Her main raced against time, as she tried to make sense of the accusation Sekaia had brought with him. It made no sense to her, not in any scenario she could imagine. Jonius had not just been her teacher, but any excuse for a father figure she had ever had. Her life before the Walker had found her was out of her memory, perhaps due to the young age she had been found in. Her past didn’t trouble her too much, though the curiosity had planted a seed in her mind – a seed that had lately begin to grow. Strange visions and happenings, that had been out of the ordinary fuelled her mind with doubt of who she truly was, and if her purpose in this life was just to do what so many had done before her – lead the dead to the beyond.

The happenings ahead of the Battle of Lowburg had seared into her mind, as those were the only pictures she could imagine lately. Jonius wasn’t a foolish man. He was one of the most trusted and respected of the Walkers. How he could so purposely walk right into the embrace of death made no sense to her. She had expressed her concern before they had entered; still he had insisted that they would be fine.
Eliana scoffed to herself. Something didn’t make sense to her; perhaps it was her way of concealing the feelings that plagued her mind. She had had no time to grief, and the last few days she had been buried in her own misery after losing her sight and being damned to this eternal colourless sight that haunted her. Feeding her doubt was the sudden and outrageous accusation of her taking Jonius’ life. The girl looked towards the general direction of Sekaia, though darkness was all that met her eyes. The two had not shared words since they he had explained their situation to her. She frowned at the thought, feeling betrayed by someone she once called friend.

Though the two had only met briefly a few times, Eliana had taken a liking to Sekaia. Unlike many of the older Walkers, Sekaia had always had his way to talk with people. Should his word not suffice, he would take use of his trickery to grant someone a good night’s sleep. It wouldn’t be a surprise to Ellie if he had volunteered to go find her, which ignited a spark of hope within her, that he thought the claim, was just as absurd as she did. She didn’t know if the lacked the courage, or was too afraid of the answer to ask about his opinion on the matter. A coward, Ellie concluded to herself, that’s what she was, and with that she kept her mouth shut.

*

Sekaia felt the pressure of the girl on his back again, assuming she had fallen asleep with her head on his back. He peered over his shoulder, examining her golden hair. He swiftly smirked; reminding himself of the times he had teased her with the abnormality of her hair. Never had he seen someone with that exact colour, and therefore he had not held back with convincing Eliana that she had to be a mutant descending from Old Gods residing within the Void. He returned his gaze back to the road, and heard the horse complaining about the long journey perhaps.

“Fine. We’ll rest for a bit then. But don’t expect any stable. I don’t see even a see a lig-…” Sekaia interrupted himself, as his attention was caught by a faint glow nearby. He stopped the horse abruptly, narrowing his eyes in the darkness.

“What now?” he muttered to himself, leading the horse onwards.

With a un-lady-like snort Eliana woke up. Sekaia swiftly hushed her, as he rode forward.
He stopped the horse, jumping off of it and inspecting the purple glow a bit ahead of them. He pointed towards it, whispering to the woman.

“See that?” he asked, not realising what he had just done.

Eliana sat with a disappointed expression, looking in his direction. Sekaia met her empty gaze and grimaced to himself. “Right. Sorry.” He offered his hand to her, laying it calmly on her lap, as she grabbed it and was lifted down by him. Sekaia led her to the tree, allowing her to gain some ground. He now had a closer look at her eyes, which didn’t seem much different from those had had seen months before. Though her stare was ever so empty and led nowhere, she looked somewhat the same.

He felt a sensation as he looked towards the glow, for better or worse he couldn’t tell, but it was something.

“You must feel it, don’t you?” Sekaia muttered as he carefully turned Eliana’s head toward the glow, in which she responded with a slow nod.

“Stay here. I’ll have a look.” Sekaia grabbed his engraved staff, about to set off as his arm was grabbed.

“You’re not leaving me here.” Ellie sternly declared, scoffing at the man.

“I’m sorry, but you must understand that your situation would bring… certain complications if something were to happen down there.” Sekaia sighed at himself, cursing his word of choice.

“Am I supposed to be a bystander the rest of my life, then?” she was about to scoff again.

Sekaia stared at her, not knowing what to say to her. He tapped his fingers, sighing at her.

“Either you’re not taking a closer look at whatever that is, or you’re taking me with you.” Sekaia was taken by surprise, seeing as Eliana usually didn’t order anyone else around. He supposed that losing your sight could do that to a person.

“Fine. Come along then, you blind blonde.” Sekaia sighed heavily, which for some reason caused a short smile on Eliana’s lips.

Miriam
Chapter 23: Dawning

Miriam was swift with the duck and she dragged herself to the side to avoid the thrust of the giant's halberd, she scrambled swiftly through the snow and got back on her feet on the opposite side of the man, he had more of an issue getting around, what with his giant size and the long halberd he carried. Miriam ran her right hand across her face, her vision was blurry and when she flicked her hand she noticed blood flew off it. Her hair clung to the right side of her face, where the man's kick must have split her brow open. She heard Leia growl and gnaw ferociously behind the large man, who had now turned to face the huntress. His face was grim with determination and anger.
"You killed him!" He roared, and came forward again, like a branded bull, with his halberd held in front of him, Miriam did not doubt he had every intention to kill her now and she knew she wouldn't survive another charge from the man. She looked to her options, with a spring in her step she jumped onto a nearby barrel that stood leaning against a wall, with the next step she scurried up the wall as best as she could and reached her hand for the roof's wooden ledge. Caught it! Miriam began hoisting herself up, feeling safer by the higher she got, until something grabbed onto her ankle. Miriam jerked to a pause, and then came the pull. With one tremendous pull she was dragged away from her hold on the roof and was thrown down into the snowy ground again with a painful crash, she landed poorly, with her right arm coming first and the rest of her weight following, she heard the crack as the bones inside of her arm undoubtedly fractured and she yelped out in high pain. She dragged her bloodied face through the snow, gritting her teeth to quell the pain of her injury but it still hurt, it hurt a lot.
"Leave me alone..." She whimpered. Suddenly she was again grabbed, this time by the collar of her gray cloak, she was held up to hang face to face with the bear-caped man, who sneered furiously toward her.
"My brother, you Bitch! You killed my brother!" He practically spat the words at her face, she could hardly see, blood still flowed over her right eye, it stained her face crimson and her head beat in a pace she found most discomforting. The man shook her by the collar angrily and her legs lifted off the ground momentarily.
"Your brother was scum." Miriam growled through her teeth. "I was just WALKING!" She flailed shortly in protest but the pain in her broken right arm got the better of her and with a jerk from the man holding her she stopped. He roared then and flung Miriam again, straight into the wall at their side, she crashed into the barrel first and then rolled off it back into the ground, for a moment she could hear Leia bark furiously at her side, but the giant was standing before her again, he rose his halberd and pointed it down at her.
"Die!" He bellowed and thrust the weapon down at her. Miriam rose her functional arm in poor defense, what good could that do? She caught herself thinking, she shut her eyes and accepted her fate. Come on then, death.

But she did not die. A second past, and another, Miriam still heard Leia bark furiously a few paces away, she slowly opened the eye that had not been draped by her blood-drenched hair and looked. She saw the halberd first, it hung stiffly just above her, as if the man had stopped his attack miraculously in the middle of his thrust. Miriam looked past the weapon, her body shaking fearfully, and she saw the man, his face was clenched in a painful expression that he could not undo, his eyes darted from side to side in confusion, as the man failed to move his body in the slightest. He mumbled a sentence, but his muscles did not allow for the words to come out. Miriam stuttered a "What?" But it came out as nothing but a whisper of "W's." Leia appeared next to her now, her muzzle coloured red, equally confounded by the man who had been hung stiff and motionless by seemingly nothing. Miriam accepted her good graces, she scrambled quickly to her feet, grunting with pain from her various injuries and aches and she called for Leia as she ran. She passed over the man who had first pursued her, his face and throat had been torn open and Miriam paid him not a second glance as she ran past, and down the street, clutching onto her broken arm. At this point she did not care what had stopped the man from killing her, she intended to keep living, and she ran.

Chapter 28: Her father's daughter

Josephine shuffled through the narrow street and its people with relative ease. From Sir John's suggestion she had put on a simple, hooded cloak to better blend in as a simple peasant girl to prevent any unwanted attention. She was following Sir John, who like her, had switched out to simple clothing; though the high-quality sword he carried by his side attracted more than a few inquiring looks. Behind the princess in turn followed a small contingent of marines, who had accompanied them from the ship. They too were wearing simple tunics and britches, with only one or two being armed with clubs in the unlikely event that someone would pick a fight with them.

Josephine and her party slithered around the streets of Cliffport for near half an hour until Sir John finally stopped infront of a building. The building, a large house of four floors, carried a distinctive official look about it - banners of the nation's colours were draping down on either side of the of the entrance, but their sigils were that of a golden anchor instead. The Admiralty's headquarters. Josephine wasted little time outside and barged past her protector and stepped inside.

*

The doors leading into the Lord-Admiral's office swung open and Josephine stormed in inside. The office had been re-purposed into a war-room of sorts, as several men in uniforms stood around a large, square table in the center of the room, with a myriad of maps and navigating tools spread out across it. They all looked up at what they could only first interpret as an angry little peasant girl that flew inside their decision-making.

"What is the meaning of--" a middle-aged officer with his hair loosely set up in a ponytail behind his head began, though he was promptly shut down as Sir John appeared and positioned himself next to Josephine, who then lowered her hood. "Lord-Admiral Spire, I need your ships."

The officer who went by the name of Spire, who had also been the first man to protest, widened his eyes and then humbly bowed before the little royalty - the other men around him immediately did the same. "Princess Josephine! Forgive us. When we heard about what happened at the capital we feared the worst. We didn't expect you to walk through those doors."

Josephine wafted a hand dismissively to shut the man up. "Your lack of decorum is forgiven, but I have preciously little time - as does my father. He is fighting outside Monarch's Rise this very moment. I saw your ships in dock, and I saw that they were preparing for war. You need to send them to the capital at once and help my father, your king, to retake the city."

Spire looked at Josephine with his mouth ajar as she bombarded him with words and commands. He then cleared his throat and dusted off his black and gold coat from invisible dust. "The ships you saw in harbour were destined for elsewhere by your father's command, but we'll gladly re-direct them to support the king in our hour of need. How do you propose we support your father's forces from the sea?"

Josephine barely gave Spire the time to finish his question before she was quick on her tongue again to flood the man with orders. "You have marines, do you not? As do Admiral Aversbury, whose fleet is in blockade around Monarch's Rise. Your ships will join up with his and together you will send your soldiers to a stony shore - Aversbury knows of it - which has a tunnel that leads into the royal keep. Your men, Lord-Admiral, could cause havoc and confusion amongst the invaders if you were to attack from within. It would give my father some much needed time."

The officers in the room looked between themselves but did not dare to speak up in protest, if they had any. Spire frowned somewhat but eventually nodded his head. "The chance of survival for the soldiers who enters the keep would be quite low, I imagine. Still, those men would gladly sacrifice their lives for their king and country if it meant turning the tide in this unprovoked invasion..."

Josephine tilted her head. "Good. As far we know, the invaders aren't even from this world. They appeared out of thin air and possess powerful magic. People will die, my father's and mine people, will die in this war. But without risk and sacrifice we won't win the day, and the consequences will be far more severe if we fail to break them in Monarch's Rise. But between your men and my father's army, I am confident we will triumph over the enemy."

The sailors in the room looked up the young princess with dumbfound expressions; never could they have imagined such viciousness and resolve from someone so young. At Josephine's side, Sir John smirked - he had undoubtedly seen the princess in action before, and always with the same results.

Lord-Admiral Spire glanced between his subordinates before nodding. "Of course, princess. We'll win the day."

Miriam
Chapter 24: Forceful catharsis

"Aaah...Crap." She groaned in pain as she limply fell down with her back against the fallen birch tree. She squirmed meekly and put her right shoulder against the frost-covered log so that her wounded left would not suffer the pressure. "Damned... Crap..." Miriam muttered as she begrudgingly inspected her arm, Leiah stood just before her with a concerned expression inside of her beady, dark eyes. The arm had been jerked out of socket and throbbed continuously with surges of aching pain, it could still be willed to move but the pain nailed any attempts futile as Miriam could only gasp and fight for breath if she tried. It would have to be put back into place again before it could start to heal and the thought of having to do this alone made Miriam awfully weary, she thumped her head back against the log and gazed skyward, she couldn't see much; the right side of her face was sticky with dry blood and her matted hair clung against her face and over her eye. Either way there was not much to see in the dark and white woods. She was surrounded by birch-trees, black, and white and tall they stood in a circle around the fallen one where she was now resting, silent and empty, the woods seemed to be at peace and without any significant presence. Miriam hadn't been followed, she knew this because her escape had been slow, due to her state and if anyone did follow her they would undoubtedly had caught up at least an hour ago. For the moment, she was safe and she could finally face the thought that had been stored inside the recess of her mind until this time. With a sigh she rose her functional right arm and squinted her eyes as she peered at her hand, the memory came back to her. She had expected death and even, for a moment, accepted it as the halberd had come swinging down. But just as the blow would have come, a single instinctual thought had come before her: "Stop" It had said, the following sensation had been odd to say the least. As if every ounce of blood lost sizzled and quivered with over her face, the air around them had grown still and suffocating quiet before finally laying down the pressuring weight of... something, Miriam could not guess what, but during that single second, all of these things had happened and caused the large man to completely halt in his movement and it had saved Miriam's life. They had both been equally surprised and confused about the outcome, but now, with clarity of mind; Miriam could guess.
"Magic?" She said thoughtfully, as she turned her right hand about in inspection, it looked just the same as it always did, but to Miriam it seemed to hold so much more potential, and so much more mystery. Leiah sat down in the snow and panted a breath with her tongue lolling out. Miriam looked to her friend. "Those soldiers might have been right all along, girl." Said Miriam. "I've been a witch all along..." Leiah barked happily when being spoken to, as if the response would mean something. Miriam smiled and ruffled the dog's head lovingly with her hand. "Yeah. Ridiculous, I know." She then left the thoughts to her own mind while resting, she had always been pragmatic and the origin of her magical ability or its meaning was hardly in focus. Instead she thought about what to do next, and most importantly what to do with her wounded arm. She had tended to broken bones before but it had always been in the comfort of civilization, and for fear of the Undead hunters, she could not return the Marspointe just yet. After some time of thinking and after Leiah had ambled off in search for food Miriam decided that it was finally time. With gritted determination she turned and faced the log she had been resting against, the snow had turned her legs cold despite the warm layered clothing she wore and moving them was a hassle in the crispy snow. With her right hand she dug out the snow from beneath the fallen log, she broke off a twig and used it to grope a hole large enough for her arm to fit in between the log and the snowy ground, when finished she tested to push her right arm through and found that it fit, barely. It would have to do. She bit onto her lip and noticed that she shuddered frightfully in anticipation as she shimmied her broken arm into the small hole that she had dug out, she put most of her arm through and set her shoulder against the log with strained issue, once it was firmly locked between the ground and the firm log above she held onto a branch with her right hand to steady herself before firmly yanking back and upward and pushing away from the log while her broken arm was still caught beneath it. There was a tremendous surge of pain which felt as if someone had suddenly pierced her arm with knives, pushing them through her bones. She cried out in a ghastly breath and shut her tearing eyes firmly, grasping her shoulder with her good arm while pushing back against the log, forcing the bone back into its socket, this sent a second wave of pain through her, as bones and flesh moved unnaturally and ground across each other. Miriam fell headfirst against the log as she with a final jerk had collected her arm and she began to shed tears of pain, her body shuddering from shock and aches. As she lay there in recovery a light and careful snowfall began to gently fall through the sparse canopy, in their silent way; the snow began to sheet the wounded huntress, Snow flake, by Snow flake...

The eerie purple light slowly pulsated from within the forest, almost as a beating heart. Sekaia led Eliana along with him, as he curiously squinted his eyes at the strange glow. With every step they came closer, the strange sensation grew within him, and possibly within his companion as well. It was almost as if a rope was wrapped around his waist, leading him towards it. The trees’ leaves danced in symbiosis with the light, following the movement. As they carefully approached, Sekaia guided the woman to sit behind a tree along with him, as he leaned around it, trying to get a closer look at the happening. The purple light was surging around in what looked like a small tornado, matching the heights of the trees surrounding it. He could easily feel the energy escaping it, as it almost swam up and down upon his skin.
Eliana turned her head around, by the strange sounds. Indeed, she felt a strange energy flowing through her as well. With her empty vision, she looked towards the sounds. Strangely enough, it was almost as if she could make out the waves of energy flowing in the circular upwards shape. It almost brought out a smile to her, as she admired the only sort of image she had seen the last few days. The magical waves danced their peaceful dance, but abruptly stopped within a second, staying in their place. “What’s happening?” Eliana whispered carefully behind her, towards what she assumed was Sekaia.

His hand rested upon the damp ground, as the event before him grew even stranger. From a small surrounding of trees, a silhouette carefully stepped towards the energy. It did not seem like a person, but instead a large wolf. With each step it took, the forest bowed to its superiority. Sekaia admired the beast, but was ever so confused at the sight. He watched as the beast stepped towards the light, bowing its head. “It’s a… A wolf?” He muttered, ever so intrigued by the beautiful predator. As he spoke, it turned its head around, looking directly at him, though they were a fair distance. Between the skipping heartbeats, Sekaia managed to hide himself behind the tree, taking in a deep breath.

/A wolf?/ Eliana furrowed her eyes, as she kept staring towards the light. In her blindness, she could sense a figure. A blue fire had lit the form of a wolf. The way it stood, the way it looked, it was familiar. The wolf turned around, still with its gaze aimed directly at Eliana. While she could only see the purple energy behind it, and the strange magic surrounding it, she could still feel its eyes locked upon her. The forest had grown completely silent, only interrupted by the heavy breathing of the creature that faced them. Eliana carefully placed her hand on the ground beneath her, pushing herself up at a slow pace. Though her vision was gone, the blue silhouette of the wolf was clear to her. The creature tilted its head as the woman slowly dared a single step closer, though still being a house apart.

The purple light began moving again, peacefully surging towards the wolf, enveloping it with the waves, as it disappeared. The waves began forming again, taking the form of a horse-looking creature, though wings had grown out of its back. Once again, Eliana froze. She could see it, just as she saw the wolf. The strange magic surrounding it was the only thing that allowed it to enter her gaze. The Pegasus folded out its majestic wings, as a wave of light quickly crawled along the ground, releasing a push of energy throughout the forest. The young woman was forced to the ground by the wave, landing harshly on the ground. She could sense Sekaia’s voice nearby, but gave no response.

Snowflakes began falling from the sky, descending upon the forest around them. Eliana rose her head with a grunt, looking around in hope of seeing the creature again. Instead she was met with something else. Before her eyes, a scene played out. Wolves, only lit up by a white light ran happily in a circle. They played with each other, bit and howled happily. A wind stormed in, erasing the shades of three of the wolves, leaving a single one standing. Confused and full of fear, the wolf ran around, stopping and howling for its siblings – but no answer came to it. It wandered in place, growling larger as it came upon a smaller wolf-like creature. The two walked at each other’s side, howling and playing in happiness. Within a second, two large lights came into sight. They formed the shape of two bears, roaring at the wolf and its companion. The bears were killed, but at the cost of the wolf. Whimpering it crawled away, collapsing upon the ground. The dog tilted its head, and barked at it.

The scene disappeared before her eyes, as a surge struck straight through her. She cried out in pain, her body going into a cramp as she curved into a ball. Tears escaped her eyes, as she began to sob to herself. Sekaia quickly ran to her place, as the lights had disappeared. He knelt before her, roughly shaking her and calling out her name. Finally she opened her eyes, still sobbing to herself and Sekaia. As she looked towards the voice, she was yet again met with a strange sight. She could not see him, her vision was still gone, but in his stead, a figure of blue light stood, with a concerned look upon its face. It looked exactly like the souls within the void.

“What?” She muttered out in confusion, looking around in panic. Throughout the forest, she sensed lights, small things jumping around in the distance, and a faint green outline of trees. It was still dark to her, but her sight had been filled with something. The more she looked, the more sure she became. The wolf… the Pegasus looked like a dream she had once had. Maybe not a dream, but a vision of sorts? She could faintly recall it, but it was the same.

“The Arrival.” She muttered, remembering the words of the figure that had shown her the burning town. Her mind razed, and she could not make sense of a single thing in her world. Before her eyes, the wounded wolf cub appeared again, right in front of her. It limped upon a leg, nudging Eliana. It ran off shortly after, almost as if begging her to follow it.

Snow crunched underfoot, the ice smashing off from the doors in a massive flurry of ice erupted from the walls that was once the seat of the North. What swaggered out from the gates was the tool they would use to bring ruin to the realms of men. Ge'es guided it out, using magic to lift the massive construct that was the great cannon. Which followed its wake were Knight's, thousands of them. They all poured out, lining up before the siege lines of the enemy.

Before long horns began to blow, the men of the North began to rally for war, men went to shore up barricades and prepare for a charge, halberds were dropped - swords drawn and drums. The drums of war sounded over the camp, men joining the chorus with rattles of mail and splinters from axes crashing against stakes; they were in a hurry to finish the barricades, though the Knight' seemed to be in little rush. Men began to file out, forming into lines as Mage's went to take up their positions in-front of the lines, creating barriers beyond the sights of the mere Human eye. Archers were taking up position; though the Riders of Red and Black. Among the masses approached a crowned figure, alone. He calmly cantered his way up to the lines.

He his gauntlet glowed brightly, leaking pure, freezing energy from its depths. The heavens around them erupted into a torrential blizzard and the giant cannon echoed voices - cries of the damned pierced the sky, though so faintly it could barely be heard above the clatter of men, horses and war-machines.
Before the King could even reach the perimeter he was halted by the approach of a cascade of Knight's, all of which surrounded the man - letting one single figure enter the circle of men. Another King, aptly enough. Leofrick bore heavy-plate, a full-helmet in the shape of the lion. It bore a faceguard, which was risen to show off his grizzled features. On his waist sat was an enchanted sword, none other resembled its likeness - or at least it was not the only enchanted sword, for a great King usually held a great weapon to boot. The King from the North spoke first:
"There is no hope for you, invader. You are surrounded on all sides and outnumbered with no way out. We can starve you out even if it would take us years, and if you sally out to meet us in the field you will be overwhelmed. Surrender, return from where you came and never set foot in my kingdom again"
Enid looks at the Knight's surrounding him and booms a laugh, it was chilling to even behold - magic warped his voice and he leaned forward, glancing at the King in his fancy armour. "There is no hope for anyone, little King. We're all pawns. I mean to end that today. All I need is your blood - so you will relinquish it now or I will do it with force."

The King in the North stared the invader down, hand over the pommel of his sword. Enid laughed, quickly dismounting from his horse to draw his runic, almost ice-like sword. It rippled and dripped with magic. The Knight's around him all drew their swords and their horses began to back away from the massive, armoured King - his cloak billowing out from behind him. "Very well. Test yourself against me, King. I will make it a tale for the ages." Another chilling laughed the man as he awaited the King to dismount to face him. The Knight's began to back off as he dismounted to meet the gesture.



Leofrick wasted little time in starting the fight, he spun his sword over his head to take up a high-guard and charged, though halted part way to switch stances into a thrust, causing Enid to real back from the attack, letting his armour take the blow to no real avail; he swiped his sword over his head to replicate the same blow, trying to catch the over-extended King though the blade was parried, the man was swift with a blade and trusted fully in the plate-armour. They locked swords for but a moment before Enid grew tired of games, his gauntlet shimmered brightly with the orb within it and as he thrust it forward he unleashed the energy upon the King as he tried to real back. It promptly flattened him, causing a blast of frost to seal over his breastplate. The King, in his massive armour charged forward only to be caught on the rebound, the King recovered far quicker than he respected, the sword went straight into his breastplate, though he veered off, slamming his sword into Leofrick's to send it up and then slashed over his chest, the blade piercing the armour to at least some extent, freezing over the mail underneath - though that mail prevented the slash from going through. The man was not phased, he came forward with an unbridled fury and enchanted metal crashed against enchanted metal, blows were traded over armour and blade.

The entire camp had grown silent as steel and magic crash against each-other and as King battled King. The King of the North fought with a fury, his sword coming down with precise blows - the enchanted metal tearing through Enid's plate liker butter, though there was an equal exchange - no armour could withstand such weapons. Before long magic became the Riders main tool. He drew it from the orb on his gauntlet, using it to deflect off the sword and then strike, which proved to be quite an effective tool as the blows he could rain down were harsh and brutal. "Submit or perish!" He cried, though his confidence grew to cloud his vision, the King soon became over-whelmed, being parried by the King only to have the sword crash against his helmet, digging into the crown atop his brow - though it did not shatter, even still it chipped his very blade! The crown hummed, though the King was stunned and before long the King just tackled the hulking giant that was the Rider to the ground, going to start smashing into his helmet with a fist, which proved quite effective, buckling in his faceguard before he could finally rebuke, sending his plated, glowing gauntlet into his chest to throw him off - quite literally the King was launched into the air by the impossibly powerful force. He, however, landed down on the Winter King - who felt nothing and stood up, kicking the Warden of the North off him to get back to his feet. He readied his blade, though he did not charge instead he looked upwards, the sky had begun to clear and it very much interrupted the duel. The Winter's King began to cackle underneath his buckled faceguard, laughing hysterically for a good few seconds.



From the sky came a golden beam, tracing through the air and from the heavens; it cleared the sky of all clouds, the snow blew aside with a force. The great cannon sat at the gate charged up, it began to shimmer with a thousand souls in its depths, sucking the energy straight out of their very essences - Ge'es stood at the fore-front of this beam of light. He had distracted the forces enough to bring down his prize. His voice boomed out from the depths, sheer force of magic began to tear at the ground - cracking and fracturing it as each mage joined the chorus.

From the very heavens came a Divine being, a Spirit in all its glory. It shimmer like a golden, swirling mass that had no form or shape - it simply was, it radiating with power yet... it the magic that was swirling about it was not of its own design, the Mage's of the Winter's King held it there - suspended it in the air with a chain , positioning it just in the arc of the cannon. Both King's had stopped to watch the display, every man on the field had as-well - the battlements were full of other Knight's and mages watching.
Enid's helmet began to echo out words, though they were of a foreign dialect causing the King to snarl, spitting out. "What is this foul sorcery!" Enid simply responded with another laugh. He went to stand straight, regaining his breath - the other man across from him agreed with the very temporary ceasefire as they exchanged words again.
"It's time to give up, King. Surrender your pride or the spirit you hold so dear is dead. As it should be." He smirked under his mask, going to show off his gauntlet - he showed an image of the great-cannon preparing to fire, preparing to tear the soul of the spirit to mere matter. The King of the North did not yield, he merely lowered his faceguard and readied his sword again.
"Kill it, then. I care little. This ends here and now." He launched himself forward, a new vigour filling him as he churned up snow underfoot. Enid roared, raising his blade up.

His eyes opened up. "Damnit all." Cursed the wizard and with a simple flick of his eyes he had vanished from his vantage point.

The King of the North rushed with his sword before him, the anticipation of his soldiers and brothers in arms could be felt heavy in the air, the aggression between two people, between two armies and between two kings could be felt by any mortal man just as easily as the binding magic of the Winter Mages' could be felt by any mage. They were masters, these invaders, their magic was perfected, it was distinct and it was powerful, yet Walter could feel their flaw, he knew it well, the power that made him different. Either case; they were not his concern, not yet at least. To bind and to hold their prize they would not risk a single mage to let go, for to do so could very well mean the release of the spirit. Walter felt her the strongest, as he stepped through the darkness of the void, he could even see her in the sky, a faint shimmer of golden, serene light somewhere in the pitch black. He pitied her, this benevolent spirit, she was only a product of a flawed system, a victim just like everyone else... The sorcerer took another step. He'd arrived.

The King of the North and the King of Red and Black met, their blades clashed briefly and as they struck each other the enchantments of each blade created a spark of magic in the air, they both took a step back, and Leofric was the first to act, clearly the man intended to slay the Rider King quickly, and more evidently, the King in the North had a backup plan. He was his father's son, after all. The two kings came at each other again and Walter opened his eyes. In a massive flurry of thrown up snow and broken earth the sorcerer appeared. First there was only snow to be seen for any man of any side, but as it set, laying down upon the ground again, the visage of a man could be made out. A plain man, old and with a large, round gray beard. He was dressed in a simple brown coat, his hood was thrown down and as he asserted his stance he sighed, tired and disappointing. Both Kings had been pushed back, Leofric even, with his limited resistance to magic had toppled to a knee but still rose in gritty determination. Enid blinked his eyes, quickly coming to terms with what had just happened and he gripped his sword tighter.
"The Wizard..." He uttered in wary confirmation as the snow slowly fell back to the earth around him.
"Kings!" Walter began. Raising one hand to greet them both, he looked from Leofric to Enid with his weary gray eyes. "This shall be your-..." Walter stopped as Enid rose his gauntlet into the sky and his hand clenched, creating a crackle of the magic of the Damned in the air above him. In the distance their massive cannon rumbled, the spirits that powered it wailed in unison as the weapon was activated and its hollow exit began to shine. "-.. Why did you have to do that?" Walter asked tiredly and turned to face Enid fully.
"It is how it should be." Enid responded behind his Facemask with a determined scowl.
"Have it your way." Said Walter and he rose his hand. In a short weave of his wrist he collected every small ounce of magic that rippled continuously out from the gauntlet of power. He collected it, he circled the source with the arcane that escaped it with his fingers, and then - he clenched his fist. The magic became whole, turned into matter by the sorcerer's ancient spell and now it pressured so completely against the hand of the Winter's King that his entire hand was caught in its suffocating crunch. The Rider of Red and Black roared out painfully as his gauntlet squeezed into the skin of his hand, burrowing into his flesh by the immense pressure of the materialized magic. Walter held his hand tightly, a neutral and placid expression on his weathered face as he looked from the struggling King to the cannon in the distance, it slowly whirred back, its power removed for now it slowly returned to its dormant state.
"Ge'es!" Cried Enid, holding onto his wrist with his second hand, he had dropped his sword now, trying to pry his gauntlet off, but to no avail. He fell to his knees, clenching his teeth in unbearable pain as the gauntlet pushed deeper, touching upon bone, no blood could escape since it too was pressured by the Arcane vacuum. Walter turned away from Enid and looked to Leofric, who stood with his magical blade at a ready.
"This is not how you make peace, Hamster-King." Walter scowled irately. "Good luck to you."
"How da-.." Leofric was quickly blurred out by a mass array of his knights, who formed defensively around their king, having noticed the Red Riders suddenly came charging, but it was for the Wizard they came. The person who had assaulted their king. Walter looked upon them, this magical people. By their very existence, they were his rightful property and as the first one came upon him, he felt pity. A surge of power came through him, he threw his arms about himself collectively and twisted his feet. Suddenly the air around any man became low with oxygen, a gasp of breath escaped those who surrounded the wizard as the air around them was vacuumed into a strong inward pull, the snow too moved with the pull but that was not Walter's target. He weaved his arms like such and collected more and more oxygen from the air around the assailants. As enough oxygen had been gathered around him he flexed his fingers, performing a simple incantation.
"Spark." He said, as he thrust his palms outward and suddenly the air shot out again, this time caught completely alight in a Paleblue fire formed into a massive tornado. It scorched the earth and melted away the snow immediately, those riders that had come too close were thrown off their frozen horses, who screeched as the extensive firestorm quickly tore through their shapes and left them burnt severely or simply killed them on the spot. The firestorm reigned for ten meters in a complete circle around the Wizard, who stood in its center, with his hands raised and twitching. Puppeteering the whole murderous scene. For those outside of the storm, his voice could be heard.
"Carry on your useless war, Fool of Kings, puppets of Circumstance. Carry it on, and you shall know the true Fury of the Arcane!" He threatened as the storm reigned supreme, causing horses to steer clear and men to gasp in frightful scowls. The Northmen particularly watched on as the magic pressed ever outward. Leofric's eyes flashed in anger, he had seen the kind before and he hated it completely.

The firestorm subsided. The Wizard was gone; in his place lay a scorched wasteland of black earth and coal-coloured soldiers of both the North and the Riders. Their horses had been ruined beyond any comprehension and any snow that had lay in the vicinity had been completely erased, the grievous sight was lit up by the serene golden glow of the spiritual energy above them yet not even that could make the vision any less disturbing. The two Kings stood on either side. Their fate; yet again in their own hands...

Chapter 29: Two kings

An eerie silence fell over the now scorched fields. Leofric weighed the sword heavily in his hand as he collected his breath behind the helmet's lion faceguard. He stared at Enid who stood on a knee a distance infront of him, his healthy hand clutching against his injured one. The adrenaline subsided and Leofric winced as a surge of varying pain ruptured through his body - realising how much of a battering he had taken in the duel with the Rider King. Leofric did his best to ignore the pain and took a step forward, and then another - he kept going towards his kneeling opponent with his sword at the flank. He stopped infront of Enid.

"You knew that Sorcerer. He's the one you have been searching for?" Leofric inquired and glanced down at the other king, who nodded in silence while powering through the immense pain in his hand. Leofric continued. "Why?"
Enid groaned briefly in agony and then straightened out his posture to gaze up at the northern king. "The Sorcerer is known to me. My advisor knows more than I do on this account - but we need him to power a portal. I will bring all of my people here. Before the end times."
Leforic raised his head to look at the opposite army on the other side of the field. Silence returned, with only the howling wind as company. The breeze tore and dragged in the northern king's black cloak as he stood near statue-like for several moments, before finally gazing down upon Enid again. "I don't know who that Sorcerer is but he has approached me before, there too he asked me to make peace with my enemy." Leofric delayed and clutched the grip around his sword tighter, the gilded flames around the steel flickering. He could almost feel the tension between the two forces and the bloodbath that would follow should he strike down Enid here and now. But his army would triumph - if not in skill then in numbers. It would end this sudden, unwarranted war.
The Northern King's blessed sword pierced the scorched ground with ease, undoubtedly due to its enchantment, and he stepped closer to the Rider King, almost looming over him now.
"There is only one place in this world that could harbour Sorcerers of that calibre. Its people murdered my grandfather. They have wronged my dynasty and made war against my kingdom. You have earned my ire with your unprovoked invasion, outlander, but -you- are not my true enemy. -They- are. This needless conflict must end. I will even help you search for this Sorcerer, and allow you to hold the city and summon your people from their demise - but this ends now." Leofric clenched a hand together and almost seemed ready to batter in Enid's helmet with his fist alone.
"There will be no more fighting. Nobody else needs to die. All I ask in return is that you release her." Leofric raised his other hand to point at the radiant creature that hovered above the ground. Enid turned his head in turn to look and huffed out a misty, icy breath. He remained silent and in thought for some time, before turning his head back to Leofric, and then back to his own men. He called out an order and the mages standing at the front ceased their witchcraft to stand down. Only one of them remained, persisting and now struggling on his own - but without the support of the others it was hopeless for him to hold the Lady on his own. Her golden radiance shimmered brighter and white flames erupted around her. In almost the blink of an eye she broke free from the magical chains that had held her, and a minor shockwave ruptured into every direction. She then turned towards the two kings and descended, her shape manifesting into a more prominent female appearance. She approached the Northern King and circled a lap around him while brushing one of her hands along his armour - then she withdrew back and promptly disappeared; her radiance diminished and returned the scorched wasteland into darkness.

Leofric sheathed his sword and looked as Enid, still clutching his brutalized hand, scrambled up to his feet and stared at him in silence, although it was a mutual understanding.
"We're done for today. I will order my army to stand down but we will remain here until the week's end. I will have a tent set up at the foot of the hills in case you wish to have words." Leofric said and turned halfway, gesturing with a hand to the hills where his camp and fortifications had been raised. Enid tilted his head in a slow nod and the two kings then turned, making their way back to their respective armies.

Miriam
Chapter 25: A long way to go

Miriam walked slowly through the forest, the snow was heavy beneath her feet and crunched as she stepped across it. She had had to stop often, her breathing was rapid and she often paused to wince and curse at the infernal pain of her arm. It was back in its original place but that only meant pain for her at this point. A raw and blatant aching of every nerve of her arm, it was strained and the constant pain wore her down into a sorry state. Miriam could not hunt in this state, as she walked she found frogs frozen and hibernating beneath logs, and she found eggs in nests low enough to pick. This sustained her for a few days as she walked but it did so barely, following the directions of the stars and the sun as she traveled further north. She could not risk going back south, the undead hunters must have been made aware of what had happened now. Miriam found herself concerned with what had become of the person she... performed her magic upon. She still had a hard time believing she had done it at all, it seemed like a lucid dream now. Maybe it was. - She found herself thinking about the panicked look in his eyes, the fear that had come over him as the magic had stopped his every muscle. Miriam did not need to imagine that fear, or that pain, she knew it already.

Leia came often when Miriam was resting against a tree or a stone with a dead squirrel or some other creature in her maw which she dropped in front of her wounded partner with a happy pant and a proud wag of her bushy tail. With due effort and only a operational hand Miriam made up a fire every night, by which she cooked her meals, warmed herself and slept. It warded off whatever animals lived in this sparse forest, she hadn't seen anything but birds and small beast. This close to the western shoreline the wilds were less ferocious, peaceful even and Miriam doubted she would come across anything more dangerous than wild boar.

A few days passed like this, in silent wandering through a peaceful and white forest. Miriam's thoughts left threats and magic and instead she came to think of the people she had left behind, the possibilities. If she had stayed with Freda, if she had taken her offer, what would have happened then? What had happened with Ellie? Didn't she say she would ensure she was safe? What had become of Lowburg and Anathema? Miriam found she depressed herself with these thoughts and tried to think of other things, but the weight of the past was still heavy on her mind. Every time she found herself thinking about these things she shook it off as sentimental and useless. With a determined scowl she carried on, forward and onward.

Eventually she found a path in the woods, the path surely lead out and eventually became a road, the road changed from dirt, to gravel and eventually it became paved with stone. Miriam looked down it, then up, Leia stood by her side, the dog had not left her side for the day and now walked by her side with less of a defensive air and more of her usual calm gait. Miriam walked down the road and as she did a memory came back to her, one she hadn't thought of for a very long time: She'd been here before, she had walked this road but to the other direction, a frail and lost child she had been, whose only possessions were what she carried with her. A singed scarf lay around the miserable child's neck, it had belonged to her mother once. Next to her there had been a man, he was a mountaineer, he had seen the fire and came to help. It had been too late to save anyone from the fire, but under the rubble had had found her, miraculously unscathed from the firestorm with not a scratch or a burn on her soot-covered body, and he had taken her away to his own home. The scarf was all that had been saved from the remains. Miriam touched an absent hand to her scarf and clung to it. It wasn't the same, this had been given to her by Freda, she knew that. With an anxious sigh Miriam stopped on the road and looked back again, Leia stopped and glanced back to Miriam who hesitantly chose not to move.
"I'm scared, Leia." Said Miriam, before she could think of a reason she had said it aloud at all. Leia barked and came trotting over back to her master, letting out a happy pant as she circled her once. Miriam looked down at the pooch and sighed.
"Okay... Let's go see him." She turned and walked up the road, in the far distance mountains began to stretch into the cloudy sky. Their white peaks reaching far beyond the clouds themselves, stretching endlessly to the sky above as if hoping they could all become one at last.

The horse trotted onwards, with the two young humans sitting upon it. Eliana was still trying to make out what had actually happened inside the woods, after Sekaia had almost dragged her back to the horse. He was eager to get onwards, perhaps feeling uneasy after the event. They had been silent for hours, riding north again. Eliana’s vision had become dark again, the temporary lights having disappeared. It had been the closest thing she had experienced to actually seeing anything but this damnable darkness. They had been riding for more days than Eliana could remember, seeing as her days had melted together with the nights. They had passed Lowburg a few nights ago, riding further into the northern region.

The sun was slowly moving down from the sky, as the evening had begun to arrive. They stopped outside a small village, no more than seven houses and a tavern. The two of them barely shared any words as Sekaia led the horse forward. Whilst the town was all but darkness to Eliana, Sekaia silently studied the small township. The farmers had finished the day’s work, finally celebrating outside the small tavern. They barely noticed the two newly arrivals as they trotted inside the village. Sekaia jumped off, tapping Eliana by her lap and helping her down afterwards. Feeling the ground beneath her was such a relief. Her hips were so damnable sore after the riding, and the darkness hadn’t been especially entertaining either. Instinctively, she threw out her hand to grab Sekaia, still feeling uneasy on her own feet. All she could do was listen, and the sounds were welcomed. The only thing that broke the silence was the sound of the embers harmoniously burning the wood of which they burned upon. The cheerful chatter between the men near the inn was calming. No soldiers clattering in their heavy armour, no screams or horrors. It was silent, and it was refreshing.

As they stepped inside the inn, Sekaia left Eliana in her place to stand. All she heard was chattering that she couldn’t quite make out the words of. A few moments passed, when her arm was suddenly grabbed again. At this point, it was barely surprising anymore. She just sort of let herself be dragged along and placed at one the tables. Eliana sensed the sigh escaping Sekaia as he placed two items on the table, most likely mugs. The air inside the tavern was fresh and cold, only being warmed up by the fire crackling by the wall. Sekaia took a sip from his mug; solid ale wasn’t something he’d refuse. His gaze carefully wandered back to the woman in front of him, silently sipping away at her own mug. During the days they had ridden, Sekaia had offered her a band of cloth she could wrap around her eyes. He was not sure if it was simply because he didn’t enjoy being reminded of her condition all the time, but it gave her a calmer appearance as well; instead of the eyes emptily staring into nothing.

“I thought we might rest for a days time.” Sekaia spoke up, nodding a little to himself. Eliana looked up, towards his general direction. The two had not spoken of the happening in the woods, simply dismissing it as their mind playing tricks on them. It was easier than trying to comprehend whatever it was supposed to be.

“You got us rooms?” she asked, taking another sip.

“Room.” Sekaia corrected her.

“Room?”

“Room.”

“Just one room.” Eliana sighed, drinking once again. Sekaia looked around, watching the dry wooden walls. They were donned with ornaments and wooden weapons, heads of animals and feathers of birds. It was surprising that the place could hold together with the few citizens in the small village. The people most likely helped each other out, friendships being the best payment around these parts. Sekaia met the innkeeper’s gaze, who seemed to be staring towards Eliana’s hair. He carried a grimace. Northerners weren’t happy with foreigners, and the girl certainly looked anything but northern. The people were paranoid, but the innkeeper had been kind enough, nonetheless.

“I saw the Melitian harbour, out by the east.” Sekaia looked back towards Eliana, who did indeed stop her drinking as he spoke, though remaining silent. He wet his lips before speaking again.

“It was just as you said. I’ll take you there, someday.” The young dark-skinned man nodded, trying hopelessly to cheer up the girl. Childhood memories were her weakness. Even in the few moments they had spend together over the years, Sekaia still knew how to handle her.
“And the ships?” Her face lit up, for the first time in weeks. Eliana had always dreamt of seeing the Eastern ships, magnificent as they were told to be. A faint feeling of regret flew through her stomach, reminded of the East. She could’ve asked Freda about it all. The famous Melitian harbour, the equally famous ships of war that resided calmly on the blue waves.

“They were stunning. They use a rare wood to craft them with. Leaves a certain scarlet colour, which they used for painting the ships.”

Eliana’s smile faded at that.

So close. Sekaia let out a sigh, shaking his mug passively to confirm it was indeed empty.

“Come along.”

The room was small. Tidy, but small. With a thud, Sekaia, who led Eliana along to one of the beds, dumped their belongings on the floor on the way. He placed himself next to her, eyeing her as she spoke.

“When are the Grandmasters expecting us?” She folded her hands in her lap. It was the first time in days she could sit and actually relax, but yet, the news Sekaia had brought in the first place worried her. It made no sense to her. Her mind raced again, hoping in the name of the Gods that it wasn’t the true reason he had come.

“Within a week. And we’re close.” He spoke in a calm voice, as he placed his arm around the girl, nudging her shoulder and let her lean her head on his shoulder.

“Then we can rest for a few days?” She spoke again, her voice filled with hope.

Sekaia raised an eyebrow, but nodded. “Yes, we can.”

Eliana smiled again, nudging her head closer to the man’s shoulder.

Miriam
Chapter 26: Homecoming



The door opened with a forceful push, grinding snow into the white wooden floor beneath it. It creaked as Miriam pushed it open with her operable arm, her broken, wound up in cloth and pressed tightly against her chest constantly was of no use. Leia slipped through the spring of the door first, eager to enter a building after their long trek through the woods and their shorter, yet more tiring trip up the foot of the mountain. They hadn't come far but Miriam hoped, they had come far enough.
"Hello?" She started, feeling her own voice hoarse and strangely thick with sick. She didn't feel feverish, though she hardly felt anything as powerful as she felt the constant ache of her broken arm. She looked around the room. It was lit with a few candles, a small amount of light that barely revealed the contents of the room: A hearth lay to her right, charred logs smouldered passively within, a chair and a small wooden table lay to her left, above it a tapestry of woven cloth and furs. She looked ahead, a wolf's skin carpeted the entrance, its saddened expression facing the door and any visitors that entered, Leia sniffed it briefly before seating herself upon its center, letting her tongue loll out as the dog panted somewhat wearily, a content look ever plastered upon her face. Miriam walked further inside, feeling the crunch of the snow beneath her well-crafted boots as she stepped unto the wood. "Hello?!" She repeated, somewhat louder. She looked around again, there were two doorways, from one of them shone a mild light. There had to be someone in here... Her eyes flicked to her left again, to the second doorway where a shadow suddenly appeared. It rose its arm threatingly, in which she quickly spotted a plain axe. Miriam rose her functional arm in a gesture for peace.
"Woah. Okay... Hello there!" She said nervously. The figure stopped and lowered its weapon, it then stepped out of the shadows, revealing itself to be a man. Bearded, grizzled and pale white of both complexion and hair. He looked like the mountain itself; ancient, unwavering and immobile. The man folded his arms up, looking between Miriam and Leia, who went up to sniff the man's pantleg.
"Who in the bloody Outworlds are you supposed to be?" The man grunted, not giving Leia a second of attention.
"I'm sorry, I should've knocked..." Miriam began.
"Asked y' a question, lass." The man grunted. Miriam shook her head, and then promptly nodded.
"Sorry. Miriam. I.... I used to live here." She admitted, somewhat unsure how believable that was, and why even she doubted it.
"I was born in this house, missy. So was my pa', so I properly doubt tha' you lived here." The man grunted, again.
"No. I mean-.." Miriam swallowed sickness. "I lived further up the mountain. Years ago. With my mother, and my brother..." She knew it would have to come out, though talking about it was weird. All of her life she'd run away from it, now she was back, and she doubted her reasoning. The man understood, however, his face contorted into something more mild and with a grevious sigh he lay the axe away, gesturing for her with an arm.
"Close up the door, would'ya."

Later

Lars gave her a blanket, it was woven with wool and Miriam, with one hand struggled to lay it over herself. She wavered a smile toward the man from where she sat, grateful for the gesture.
"Thank-you." She said. He grunted, then sat himself in the opposite chair, grabbed his poking stick and used it to poke at the fire he'd recently started in the hearth. Leia lay between them, curled up close to the fire with shut eyes, her furry chest moving up and down in peaceful rest.
"Didn't imagine you'd ever come back." Said Lars, after a short silence.
"Neither did I." Miriam admitted, with a blank gaze locked on the fire in the hearth.
"So. Why did you?" The gruff man asked, his gray eyes moving toward her.
"I..." Miriam wasn't sure she could answer that. Ever since she'd left Freda and Eliana she'd been walking north-west, hadn't she? Even before she broke her arm she'd been coming this way... But why. To find her own life? To return to solitude? She honestly couldn't tell her own thoughts anymore. "I wanted to find my father." She said, at last. It had been the thought that made the most sense to her... She looked to Lars with an inquisitive glance. Could it be him? She'd never known her father, neither had her brother. It hadn't mattered to them, it hadn't been important. Mother knew, of course, though she never talked about it. It had to be him... There wasn't anyone else. Lars looked back at her, then he shrugged his broad shoulders. Miriam blinked.
"What?" She blurted out in question.
"What?" Grunted Lars.
"You're-.." She continued.
"No. I'm not." He replied. Looking back to poke the fire. Miriam sunk back into her chair, clutched her blanket closer so that she could sink into it, hide away from her embarassment. What an absolute idiot she was! She pursed her lips tightly and sunk into the blanket in silence.
"Listen." Said Lars. "I remember your mother. And I remember the tragedy that happened up there - I remember that mountaineer that came by, who picked you up. Isn't it him you're looking for?" Lars asked in a reasonable tone.
"I don't know." Muttered Miriam beneath the blanket.
"You were just a child, I remember it... My wife wanted to take you in... Bless her." Lars shook his head in sorrowed rememberance.
"You didn't." Muttered Miriam in short reply.
"No. I didn't." Admitted Lars, glancing back to Miriam again. "I don't know the man you're looking for. Always thought it weird for a woman to live by herself, that far up the mountain - Whoever he was, he hasn't been back. Not since that day he picked you up." Lars shook his head meaningfully. "How about you take some time... Rest up here - We can fix that arm up for you." The old man smiled, having leaned over some in his chair to look at her through the gap of the blanket. Miriam took a moment to muddle this, though she knew what she had to reply. She had no place to go, no resources or any way to make a living other than the gold she'd been given by Freda. Not until she'd gotten better again.
"...Alright." She said finally.
"Just one thing you gotta do in return." Said Lars. Miriam twitched her eyes toward him.
"What?"
"Answer a question..."
"What question?"
"How -did- you survive that fire?"
Miriam could not answer that. Though recently, she'd begun to guess...

Her days with Lars were quiet, the man lived alone in the building, once he was dead there would be no one to take over after him, Miriam asked once if he considered moving but he said he'd always lived up the mountain, and he always would. The old man tended to her arm, bandaged it, refitted it and then he took care of her fever. Soup, hot water and time in bed. Miriam felt like a child during her days here, perhaps it was the nostalgic mountain air or the fact she was so plainly being coddled. She did find that she enjoyed it. She needed it even. Whatever was going on in the world outside of this mountain was no longer important. Snow fell every day and Lars worked resoundly to save them from being snowed in completely. Meanwhile Miriam lay in bed, or sat by the fire. Every time she looked into the hearth the thoughts came back to her. The visions of her mother and her elder brother... The fire that had engulfed them and their house - Miriam looked at her hand, with which she had performed magic - Could she have done it? She didn't remember the scenario completely, only being saved by the mountaineer, whoever he was. Lars didn't bring up the question again, though by the look on his eye Miriam could tell he had his assumptions. She couldn't explain it to him even if she wanted to. Even if she owed him. In the end, she wished that she had... As one night, during a particularly viscious snowstorm, the door suddenly flung open. Miriam looked to the open door from where she sat, wind and snow bellowed inside with a mad fury only the mountains could provide. Wailing and howling visciously. Lars quickly got up and went to close it again, to bar it - Though he stopped in his tracks and looked on in absolute surprise, as a man walked over the treshold of the door. He rose his hand and he tapped the top of the door twice in a gesture for good luck, removed his hood and smiled a familiar smile through his round, gray beard.
"Ah. There you are." Said Walter and looked past Lars as if he was air, directly at Miriam, who could only stare back with appropriate disbelief...

Holding a dignified gait and stature befitting one of monarchy and with shimmering golden eyes none possessed that caused the courts to wallow at the supremacy she possessed. Though they were not looking at her; they never did. She sat on the lowest pedestal with only enough power to trickle at Enid's stupid boots. They both sat down at their new, temporary stations and reclined back within them. What -she- had brought, he would address; such was the duty of a King and -not- a Queen. It left her bitter.
"So? What is it? You bring me twenty mages through an unstable portal and risk shattering the thinly veiled defences we set up upon arriving to keep the shadow at bay. For..?" He addressed her, for once; it was mildly refreshing - even if his eyes didn't speak of formality. He was still such a child.

"Because, husband, they are here to bring an end to tyranny. We located a certain... incantation your sorcerers can keep up. To hold down and subdue malevolency itself." That caught his interest, as did Ge'es - who promptly craned his ugly head around to look. Thank the goddess he wore a helmet.

"-What- incantation do you speak of? I know the books through and through, and have the gift to cast every spell once written by Gall'an. Do you question his solidarity?"

If he could pull that awful grin, he would have. She could positively feel it though it would not get under her skin -at- all. Not today. "Of course not, venerable Ge'es. I merely -know- more than you, is all. Isn't that right husband?" She grinned this time, with no one to question it - the power felt intoxicating. "It's simple, really. But we'll need to practice. It took quite the research. With you leave, my King." She could feel Enid sneer and twist his fingers around in the gauntlet he cherished. He finally stood up and nodded.
"So be it. Work with my wife and queen, wizard. Compromise your pride for the evening and then join me in the morning; we finally ride to battle." The gracious King of the Riders wandered off and brought all the mages with him; clearly having a better purpose for them than target practice, or so she hoped. They were all so young.

Her poor apprentices...

--



She pulled up her skirt and descended the stairwell, taking to leaning against the wall to avoid falling down the genuinely tiny steps. Ge'es followed behind with a far bigger struggle. He had to walk sideways to avoid smashing through the rock beneath him. "Can we not simply teleport ourselves to the bottom? Surely we can just-..." He stumbled, hissing. All she had to do is calmly wander down; her feet were small enough.
At the bottom she gazed around the terribly droll and bland dungeon level. It was awfully dark, though a swift flutter of the hand was enough to ignite all of the scorns and torches hanging from the walls. It illuminated what she expected, an equally droll and foul place. Ge'es soon joined her, falling down several flights of stairs and sending a good portion of the ornamental parts of his armour flying all across the room. The Queen barely lowered her head, gazing down at the slumped mess of a man with a tactful grin. "I didn't know you were in such a hurry." Again, magic made things uncomplicated as with a flutter of a wrist and a spoken word the man was on his feet once more.

"My thanks." He uttered in a sharp tone. He proceeded on ahead, unsure what they were looking for.

She chimed in. "There is a portal down here, one that leads to the white gates of eternity. Where only spirits may enter. But... we mortals are damned to endure damnation if we enter; which leads me to believe that is a lie. For we have surpassed death itself with magic. Why can we not pluck the spirits one by one from their resting places? Claim this land for our own. You know full well of what I speak, grizzled wizard." The last line made her giggle softly, covering her lips to seem prudent. Ge'es was hardly amused.

"Are you mad, woman? We cannot just gallivant into the eternity beyond and come out the same. There's no spell known to anyone able to withstand the unbridled fury of these spirits. They can level our world ten-times ov-..." She interrupted him as they walked, tracing her golden stave across the ground - it left behind a golden trail of magic in its wake.

"Silence your false fears and anxiety. You know full well they are on the same plane as us when we enter. We simply need to centre ourselves there, becomes -spirits- ourselves, or at least have the guise. Benevolent and malevolent, we will seem as one and can wander freely until we find what we seek. This." She produced a book from the trail of magic, it opened up and began to fly past pages so quickly it created a gust of wind in the barren, stale dungeon. With a delicate cough she brought it to a halt, setting a finger on the spine of the page, pressing inwards. "Golden essence, that of what spirits are truly born from in the great, dark beyond. Pure cosmic energy itself. It is apparently falling from the very sky in this plane of existence. And will give us the power to bind anything to our whim. To end tyranny, as my husband aptly put it." Ge'es seemed awe struck, then went to grab the woman's arm firmly and without care for her station.

"This is -madness-. Where did you get all this? Who gave you it?" He demanded.

She gave him his answer. "Who else, sweet wizard? I have travelled to our homeland and back. Oh and such a tale it was. We -were- the masters before. The spirits cried out for mercy and we gave nothing back. Monsters they called us, immortal devils. They decimated our plane of existence. I simply... used a tool to get there myself. You'll never believe it." The Queen's smile could shatter bones, it twitched cruelly before the book disappeared and opened up an image through the guise of a mirror. An image of something Ge'es had no idea what it was. It looked to be a woman, oddly enough. Shimmering in red and silver.
"This is your tool? A mere Human-being? Let alone a woman, in armour."

"... Her name is Freda and she's going home. We will use her to ascend to the very heavens."

Chapter 30: Thoughts

Arthur turned the cup upside down and slammed it down against the crate. He scooped up the few coins presented upon it and rose up to his feet with a laugh. His opponents, three swordsmen, looked at him with sour expressions. They had challenged the knight to a game of dice - and lost.

"What's your trick, sir?" a swordsman asked.
"No tricks, good man. Just a whole lot of luck." Arthur started. "I don't dictate which side the dice lands on."

The soldiers around the crate muttered between each other, they had no arguments against that, they knew the knight was right. Luck was the key to winning. Arthur raised two digits to his temple in a salute and then turned around to depart. He stored away his newly gained coins and dragged his cloak around him as a cold breeze swept through the camp. Two days had passed since the two kings had battled on the field and ultimately reached an agreement. Arthur pondered whether Leofric was genuine or if it had simply been a ploy. He had not asked the king about it yet, nor was he certain if he ever would. His thoughts drafted over to what he had seen on the field, hovering above it - the radiant being of white and gold - the Lady. If there had been any doubt as to her existance, that doubt had been put to rest. Everyone had seen her, and now she was free.

Someone suddenly barged into Arthur from the side and a audible ruckus followed as something crashed against the frozen ground. Arthur looked to his side and met the gaze of a female soldier. Her expression was twisted into shock and fear at once and she quickly ducked down to pick up the spears and swords that she had carried.

"I am so sorry, sir!" she piped up. "I did not see you."

Arthur twitched a smile and crouched down to grab a spear that had rolled away the furthest and held it out for the nervous soldier. She quickly took the weapon and added it to the others she held in her arms.

"No harm done, think nothing of it." Arthur said as he straightened out his posture again. The woman rose up also and Arthur could tell from her armour that she was an outrider. She bore no headgear and her auburn air was set up in a rushed ponytail. Her features were grimy but she was somewhat of a belle, Arthur realised. He gave her a nod and gestured her onwards. The woman bowed her head in reverence and scurried away out of sight. Arthur turned around and took a step forward to continue on himself, but promptly stopped. He spun around once more and looked around him. The path he had been walking on was quite wide with ample space, enough to move entire carts around without the risk of running someone over. How the outrider managed to barge into him on the spacious path was a officially a mystery. Unofficially however, Arthur could speculate as to why. It amused him.

Arthur continued through the encampment. Everywhere soldiers sat huddled near their fires or conducted varying tasks. The unnatural cold was becoming a nuisance even to the durable northerners. Arthur swung around a tent and stepped up a small slope. In the distance rose the capital city, twisted and tainted by the presence of its now otherwordly inhabitants. A shudder surged through Arthur, whether it was the cold or not he did not know. Whatever they could throw at their foe it was likely that they could throw something worse right back at them.

Whatever arrangement the two kings had reached he desperately hoped it was to some benefit to them. If not, a brutal and harsh siege awaited.