by E A Hooper
“Where the hell would I go?”
“I don’t know. Back to the war? Back to Roz? Or that woman who saved you. She’s special like you are after all. I’ve heard you say her name in your sleep.”
“What are you talking about? I never got her name.”
“You don’t know anyone named Lilan?”
“I don’t think so. I mean, it sounds familiar somehow. Why do you assume that’s the woman who saved me?”
“When you’re asleep, you sometimes grab your scar and say her name. Sometimes it’s like you’re talking to her. You even mutter that you’re in Direlight and staying at The Rotten Apple. Like you want her to find you somehow.”
“I’m probably just muttering nonsense. You’re overanalyzing this like you do everything else. You know I love you, Mil.” He tried to kiss her again, but she pulled away.
“Just go away. If you love me, you’ll let me study.”
“Fine then,” he said, angrily. A flash of pain spread through his scar, and he winced.
“Are you alright?” Mil laid her book down. “Let me see your scar. It might be infected again.”
As she reached toward him, Valx pushed her hand away. “I thought you were more worried about your exam? I’ll just get out of your way.” He pulled away from her and stomped toward the door.
“Valx, wait,” she said. “I’m sorry, you know I love you too.”
He exited and shut the door behind him with a little more force than he had meant. As he walked down the stairs, Valx tried to slow his breathing and calm himself. She can’t put her studies before me and then turn around and act like she cares when I’m in pain. And what’s with all that nonsense about me running away? Like I have anywhere else to go. I have nothing left but her, and it seems like she does everything she can to push me away. For a physician-in-training, she sure has a cold heart.
Valx entered the dark and almost-empty barroom and approached the outline of the man passed out in the corner. He peered around to make sure no one else was in the room, and then he gathered aether into his right hand. The glow of the aether filled the room with blue light, but Valx felt the creeping feeling below his scar. It’s almost like something’s worming around inside of me. He shivered and tried to ignore the thought.
The light stirred the drunkard, and Velumis raised his head from the table. He wiped drool from his mouth and then tried to shield his eyes from the light. “Bless Eyl’oera! Turn down the light, could you?”
Valx adjusted the power of his aether, and the light dimmed. “You here to tell me something? If you were looking for a drink, we both know you’d rather be at Millin’s Tavern in the slums. It’s more your style.”
“That’s harsh,” Velumis replied. “I’ve been doing pretty well for myself since your friend took over the Dair Ro’duge. Running letters across Direlight is a much nicer job than guarding the sewer. Although, I do miss the Rat Market sometimes. Haven’t had a vanishing rock in months, so I’ve switched to drinking.”
“That’s good to hear. So long as you’re not passing out every other night.”
“Nah, I only had a couple. Just got tired waiting for you. Didn’t feel like renting a room.”
“Let me guess, Radu sent word across the Dair Ro’duge to find me again?”
“No—well, yeah, but that’s not why I’m here. You see, I got a weird visitor two weeks ago. A man stopped me in the middle of the street during a delivery. He said he knew all about you. He even knew you were staying here.”
Valx’s body tensed. “What’d he look like?”
“I didn’t get a good look at him. It was raining, and he had on an orange coat. Kept the hood down the entire conversation.”
“And you didn’t question his identity?”
“I tried to, but he said a lot of things that caught me off guard.”
“Like what?”
Velumis lowered his head. “He listed off the names of my daughters and the dates they died of Winter Plague.”
Valx gaped at him. “How would he know that?”
“He told me it was his power. That he’s greatborn. He told me he sees things. Past, present, future. And he told me to wait two weeks to give you this message. That it was important for the sake of the war.”
Valx contemplated for several seconds. “I think I might know who he is. My friend Yahn said he had a friend that could see glimpses of the future. His marked name was Bastion, and he’s the brother of Queen Silvina. Yahn thought he was dead, though.”
“Well, a lot of people think you’re dead too. We both know you greatborn like to sneak about.”
“What message did he have for me?”
“I’m trying to remember his exact words,” Velumis said, rubbing his temples. “Funny thing, he told me it was okay to paraphrase. Guess he saw how bad my memory is from years of vanishing rock usage. Anyways, he said you’re not done yet.”
“Not done yet?”
“With the war. He said that without you, the war is lost. He said something weird about the path of sacrifice being the only way to save Ter’al. That all the major pieces of the game would have to lose to win. Whatever the hell that means. To be honest, the guy was mumbling a lot. If he didn’t know about my daughters, I would’ve thought he was a rock addict or something.”
Valx sank back into his chair. “But I’m done with the war. I keep telling Mil that because she thinks I’ll go back for some reason.”
“That guy, orange-coat guy, also said something else about you. He knew you’d try to use Mil as an excuse. He said you had your chance to live a peaceful, normal life on that mountain with Roz. That when you chose to go to war, you put yourself on a certain path. He said that’s why the path of sacrifice is the only way left. Because he knows you’ll never really give up now. He told me you’d be drawn into the war soon, even if I didn’t deliver this message. But he told me this message would make sure you stay on the right path. The one that saves Ter’al. The last thing he told me was to tell you to trust someone.”
“Who?”
“Some woman,” Velumis said, shrugging. “I think he called her Lilan.”
Chapter 2
Roz rode the dragon Vinefire to the highest peak of the tower, and three others followed. She, Myamere, and Odestrog dismounted as Prince Mulcir flew down on his cloud. With a loud whistle, Roz gave the command for the dragons to return to the air. The beasts circled above, awaiting her return command.
“There’s a hell of a fight happening down there,” Odestrog said, staring over the edge. “I’m sure Yahn and his men can handle it, though.”
Roz glimpsed the lower floors and levels of Alkin’s Tower. It looked like their army had broken through the first level of defenses but stalled at the rows of stone steps that climbed the tower. Just like last time, she told herself. She turned her gaze to the ocean but didn’t see a single ship. Only this time, they don’t have reinforcements on the way. The North is using all their remaining naval power to keep control of the port cities along the west coast. And the Islanders are too busy trying to ransack the Bay Nation.
“Let’s not idle too much,” Prince Mulcir told them from his cloud. “Good men and women are dying down there. We only have to capture General Carren and force a surrender.”
“The door is barred,” Myamere said, rattling the handle. “Feels like there’s a weight on it too. I imagine they expected us to try this tactic. Guess we’re getting predictable.”
“It just works so damn well,” Odestrog said. “Worked at Shireden. Worked at Fort Montevale. It more or less worked at Castle Stoneborn.”
“I’ll take care of the door,” Roz said, her hands tightening around Cauli’s sword.
“Woah, wait,” Myamere told her. “They must be expecting that. They know about you. They know about our dragons. They know our strategy. I don’t like the feel of this.”
Roz felt a tingle emanate from her sword and into her hands. “Cauli doesn’t either,” she told them. “Probably a trap.
”
“Then may I suggest another route?” Mulcir said, floating past the ledge. Using his greatborn power, he blew forth a walkway made of clouds that circled from the roof to a window two floors below. “Tread carefully—but quickly. My power will only keep those clouds dense enough to support you for maybe thirty seconds.
Roz hurried down the walkway first. She had grown accustomed to heights from flying Vinefire all the time, but she still felt nervous walking across clouds over such a massive drop. Down below, she eyed the crowds of soldiers as they fought and screamed. She even saw archers perched a couple stories below their group that tried to pick off Westerners going up the different steep paths that went along the sides of the tower.
She entered through the window onto a stairwell. The men followed her inside, and the prince trailed in last. Roz could still hear fighting outside, but the inside of the tower seemed quiet on the upper floors. She moved quietly up the steps until she reached a large, open room on the topmost floor.
About thirty soldiers stood in the room, however, they faced the opposite direction. Their view stayed on the stairs leading to the roof, which looked wet with glistening oil. Two men with torches stood at the entrance of those stairs, listening intently. Every man in the room stood in a tense silence. They didn’t move, they didn’t speak, and they kept their breaths muffled as they waited for the Westerners to break into the room from the rooftop.
Roz raised a finger to quiet her group as they approached from the stairs. They were going to try to burn our group to death after I broke through the door. Gods damn that might’ve worked, but now we have the element of surprise.
Odestrog peeked around her and smiled. “Well, look what we have here?” he shouted into the room. “A bunch of weak, little cowards who don’t want to go man to man, huh?”
Every man in the room turned their head to the Westerners. Some of them raised their weapons, readying for a fight, but the closest ones to them panicked and retreated across the room.
“No, no, no,” one man yelled. “They were supposed to come from the roof.” He threw down his sword and sprinted toward the oil-covered stairwell.
“Where the hell you running?” the captain of the group shouted. “You won’t get through the barricade. Everyone, stand your ground. They can’t fight us all at once.”
“You don’t think we can?” Odestrog called, stepping into the room. Myamere joined his side, but Mulcir remained in the hallway to watch their backs.
“I guess they don’t know who we are?” Myamere said, smiling.
“Yeah, we know you,” the Northern captain said. “Myamere the Godblade. Odestrog the Cragslayer. Roz the Red.”
“Roz the Red?” she said. “Is that what you Northerners are calling me? I kind of like it.”
“Of course, you would, you mass-murdering bitch,” the captain screamed. “Everywhere you go, hundreds die.”
“I’m only defending my kingdom,” she said. “If you lot surrendered and went home, I would never kill again. So, why don’t you tell me where General Carren is, and we can end this with less bloodshed.”
“To hell with you all,” the captain said. “Our men surrendered at Fort Montevale, and you Western scum slaughtered them anyways. And that was after General Thurn treated his captive cities with kindness. He refused to ransack non-military targets and even gave spare food to your peasants during the winter. Peasants that were starving because your king seized their resources.”
“We didn’t kill Thurn,” Myamere said. “General Tungosk ordered the execution of Thurn and his men. We were already gone when it happened. Besides, our king wouldn’t have to take resources from his people if this war would end already. And you can’t talk about executing enemies when Carren had General Iiruff executed.”
“You all must be tired of this fighting, right?” Roz asked them. “You must want to go home to your families. You don’t want to die today, do you? Just tell us where Carren is hiding. Prince Mulcir will make sure what happened at Fort Montevale won’t happen this time.”
“That’s horseshit,” the captain shouted. “We’re not giving up the general.”
“He already left,” someone shouted. The man that had retreated up the stairs had returned. His body shook with fear, and when he removed his helmet, Roz could see he looked worn and malnourished. “Carren and his bannermen left two weeks ago.”
“Shut the hell up!” the captain yelled at the young man.
“This is our only chance to survive,” the man replied. “Carren left us to die. They said ships were coming to get us, but they never arrived. They aren’t coming for us, captain. They just want us to inconvenience the West by holding Alkin’s Tower until our last man falls.”
“You insubordinate bastard,” the captain grumbled, grabbing a torch from one soldier. He threw it at the oil-covered stairs, and it erupted into flames that consumed the young man.
The burning man screamed and tossed himself away from the stairs. He rolled across the stone floor and screamed. “Help me! Someone help me!”
Mulcir floated into the room and blasted the burning man with clouds until the flames died away. All the other soldiers tensed and readied their weapons for a battle until they realized the Westerners weren’t trying to attack. The prince sighed and glared at the captain. “I’ll be sure any of your men that surrender are allowed to go home after this war is over. However, you won’t be so lucky. I’m sure if I let Tungosk burn you on the streets of Direlight, it’ll appease him and the masses that are hungry for Northern blood.”
“All of you, drop your weapons,” Roz shouted. “Give us your captain, and you’ll live.”
“Don’t listen to these Western monsters,” the captain said. “Men, if we capture Prince Mulcir, there’s nothing they can do to touch us. We’d be able to hold Alkin’s Tower indefinitely.”
“Bet you thought that when you captured General Iiruff,” Mulcir replied.
“We told you we’d execute him if you tried to take back the tower,” the captain replied. “His death is your own fault.”
“That one was Tungosk’s fault too,” Myamere interrupted. “Hell, he’d probably push to attack this place even if you somehow defeated us and took the prince hostage. Tungosk is an animal, but I have to admit the man gets results.”
“Oh gods,” the man that had been burned cried. “Just surrender already. I need a physician.”
“You’re still conscious?” the captain groaned. He approached the man and raised his sword overhead. Before he could swing his sword, another young Northerner ran his blade through the captain’s back. “W—what?” As the young man pulled out his blade, the captain stumbled forward. “Traitors,” he spat. “The whole lot of you are traitors.”
“We just want to go home,” an older man said. “They didn’t tell us we’d be here this long. They were supposed to take Direlight after a few months. We’ve been here a year.”
The captain collapsed to the ground, and his men threw their weapons to the floor. “Please spare us,” one said. “Most of us were conscripted against our will or had to do this to feed our families.”
“We’ve heard that all before,” Myamere scoffed. “Honestly, I don’t care about your excuses. As long as you’ve surrendered, you’re no longer our enemy.”
“How about you all run downstairs and tell your allies to throw down their weapons?” Mulcir said. “Tell them Roz the Red and her gang of mass-murdering Westerners killed your captain and demanded they give up before we slaughter everyone.”
The Northerners nodded and hurried downstairs. Even the burned man climbed to his feet and slowly exited, holding his right arm where he had been burned.
“Well, that was boring,” Odestrog said, sighing. “I didn’t even get to fight anyone. This war really hasn’t lived up to my expectations since Castle Stoneborn.”
“Everyone’s tired,” Mulcir said. “No one thought the war would last this long.”
“The Clan Wars were on and off fo
r generations,” Odestrog replied. “Surely, this war isn’t worse than those?”
“The clans never fought a war like this,” Myamere told him. “Their wars tended to involve years of planning between battles. They were isolated and cautious. This war has sapped our nations of resources and countless lives. Think of all the cities that have been ransacked to supply armies that burned through those resources in weeks. It’s all a damn waste of time, money, and lives.”
“Why do you think General Carren left?” Roz asked. “He’s known for being a proud man. They say he planned on holding this tower until his last man fell. That’s why we needed to capture him. It’s strange that he’d abandon his own men.”
“Pride breaks,” Mulcir said. “Or maybe he got tired of the weather here. The gods know those Northerners like it cold.”
“Let’s see if the rest of them actually surrendered,” Myamere said, heading for the stairs.
They followed the Godblade until they reached a chamber that the West had been struggling to capture. The Northerners there had thrown down their weapons and allowed Westerners to pass their defenses. People across the room looked up at Roz’s group as they entered. Westerners and Northerners alike stared with looks of fear and respect. Roz could hear whispers of “Roz the Red” across the chamber.
“So, you happy with your title?” Myamere asked her.
“I like the way it sounds,” she said, staring down at the Northerners. “However, I don’t know how I feel about the meaning behind it. They think I’m a monster that slaughters people everywhere I go. I’ve noticed a lot of our own men think that way about me too. Some of them are as afraid of me as the Northerners.”
“Who cares what anyone else thinks?” Myamere replied. “You’re protecting your kingdom. That’s what matters.”
“I just wish I knew any of this was making a difference,” she said. “It feels like this war is taking us around in circles. We take a place. The North takes one. We take it back. They take another one. Meanwhile, Ter’al becomes worse and worse for everyone. It’d be nice to know if what we’re doing will have a meaningful impact.”