Mav’s nineteen years of life had led up to this moment. That was what he told himself every day, though. However, this did feel more monumental than his usual agenda.

  A gathering of dissatisfied individuals outside the gates of Znseruff. The attendees ranged from concerned residents to soldiers of Zernau and Lenda alike. There were not many, only fifty or so. In a large capital, that amounted to nothing at all. Not enough to take over a Kingdom, but they were armed.

  Please let Cwach send a punitive force and crush us! God, I want us all to be slaughtered.

  Lady Idwyn was at the head of the pack with Emerii at her side. Apparently, the Promised One and Royce were focused on doing something within the palace to complete the objective of bringing Zernau and Lenda to the alliance.

  Mav was not entirely privy to the plan; he had been busy with his own adventures, and if something was important, it would find its way to his ears. Actually, anything important would avoid him. He wished that anything he needed to know, he would not know.

  With his perfectly sound logic, he waited. Supposedly, someone important was going to come and announce their mission. Hopefully, it was something impossibly dangerous.

  Only a few clouds circled in the sky, the warmth emanating in the sun breaking up any remaining snow. A day that fit his mood naturally. Eira appeared to be feeling better, or at least was not shutting herself away.

  That was heartening. Mav did not know what he could do for her, but he wanted to do anything possible. Not because she was a beauty, but because he could tell how wounded she was.

  Standing there, the chattering suddenly ceased as someone was making their way through the crowd. Hallowed whispers reached his ears, and the assumption that this must be some hero took him.

  The surprise on his features must have spoken for itself, for when he came face to face with Eira, she chuckled.

  The helmet strapped to her head was plumed with red feathers that reached skyward. A circular metal shield strapped to her left arm and a front covering breastplate formed her protection. A short sword with no guard was her only visible weapon.

  Eira walked with her back straight, eyes forward. Mav had never seen her appear in such a way. She made her way to stand by Idwyn’s side. All eyes were upon her, but she stood resolute.

  Those gazes were not ones of wonderment, nor were they filled with rage or anger. Trusting, determined eyes that put their lives in the hands of the woman before them.

  “We march,” Eira declared, “Not to fight the Uxsons, but to force them to halt. While we complete this task, the Promised One shall make the King change his foolish decision. Put your faith in Artowen, and we will not face combat today!”

  The narrow trail guided them to their destination. Unfortunately, as was Mav’s luck, he found himself in front, guiding the strange variation of Drajin. However, in favor of his fortune, Lady Idwyn and Eira were at his side. The Truthsayer, because she was familiar with the area, and the Captain of the Red Feathers, because she was the supposed leader of this mismatched force.

  Emerii held the rear and made sure there were no stragglers.

  This was a path that would let them get far ahead on the main road, while also being more discreet. His patron was a skilled woman, so even the King of Zernau might have no idea what they were up to. It would be a problem if the Zernau army came to put a stop to them, but for now, they would have to put their trust in Arty and Royce.

  They soon came to the trading route, an old, beaten stretch of road that barely met the name. Here, they would make their stand. Mav sincerely hoped they were wiped out.

  It did not take long for the horde of monsters to crest the horizon. Supposedly, Arty and Emerii had encountered them on the narrow trail previously, so there was some doubt they would use the trade route. However, there were far too many to move on that road, and they had likely used it to get to their destination quickly.

  Yes, far too many.

  Axes bared, they were outnumbered three to one.

  Still, Eira stood resolute.

  The makeshift group formed behind her, spurred on by her determination and bravery.

  The marching Uxsons halted a distance away, and a lone figure approached. It was Frieda, the Divine Hammer. Her mere presence stirred the Drajin, but they continued to focus on their leaders and held firm.

  Was Eira truly the same woman from but a few days ago? Could she hold this weight on her shoulders, this immense stress? This was the moment that hinged on her. Mav didn’t want to see; he wanted to run.

  She might have fallen from her path slightly. Curled and hid from her pain. However, she did not shatter. This person that Mav so admired. He would stay and be her support.

  It had rained that day. The water had turned the battlefield into a mixture of red sludge and mud. Somehow, Eira’s regiment had held. They had weathered the assault with their impenetrable shield wall. Squads on the flanks had pelted the invaders with their deity abilities and arrows, but they too had suffered major casualties.

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  In fact, many non-Red Feathers had fallen. Brave Lenda soldiers who were about to be avenged. The combined forces of two Divine Hammers stood before them, reeling. Now was the time to push as a wedge, cutting through their harried lines.

  Despite their losses, behind was a strong force led by Prince Brymoor, fresh and ready for battle. Even further was the King’s Royal Guard, though they should not be forced to join the battle.

  The Lord Prince was a reliable, honorable knight. With his assistance, they would crush the Uxson advance. It was not channao, the Uxsons’ favored season. They would win.

  She turned towards her messenger, whose deity would ensure swift communication. “Send word to Prince Brymoor that I wish to press the advantage. When he sees an opening, plunge his sword into it.” The messenger left, but there was no time to waste. “Form wedge!” She called.

  Her hierarchy of leaders began shouting the same order as their formation shifted. That in itself would take time, but if her plan was rejected, it would still prove useful. It did not take long for the messenger to return or for her stalwart soldiers’ change of formation.

  “Proceed, we will crush them,” The messenger relayed the Lord Prince’s confirmation.

  An exuberant expression on Eira’s face. “Forward!” She commanded at the head of her wedge. She would lead them; she was unshakable, unbreakable.

  Methodically, they cut their way into the ranks of the Uxsons that were already in disarray. Outnumbered, but that did not matter to her Red Feathers. Pushing the wedge further and further. Cold sweat on her neck, axes rebounded from her shield and armor. Strengthened by her ability, nothing would shatter her protection as she slayed countless foes.

  Her warriors were a mirror to her. They did not possess the same deity, but they held firm. The shield wall protected, while swords and spears slipped under and over to take the lives of the waves pointlessly breaking against the rocks.

  Swiftly, intuitively, they murdered swathes of invaders as they entrenched themselves in combat. Despite their lines being a mess, the two Divine Hammers crashed into their shield wall. The Red Feathers still maintained themselves brilliantly. This regiment that had won battles against Uxsons and Drajin alike. Her army, which she had so diligently trained and formed bonds with.

  They could win.

  Anytime now, the Lord Prince’s army would crash into the weakest Uxson flank. Any other surrounding Lenda soldiers would follow. The Royal Guard wouldn’t have to get involved, but they could represent a new threat, and a final blade for those fleeing.

  It was taking some time, but perhaps they were waiting for the perfect strike. She trusted her leaders with everything.

  A brief look back shook her.

  The King of Lenda, with his Royal Guard, was retreating.

  And so was Prince Brymoor.

  Their ranks were a mess as they fled. One remaining auxiliary support of a few hundred Drajin were also following them, while the very last stayed, honorably. They launched arrows and deity abilities into the Uxsons that now surrounded the Red Feathers.

  Perhaps they could cut their way out and fall back as well.

  The retreating Drajin fueled the Uxsons’ hunger; their previous disconnection transformed into a frenzied lust for blood.

  Everywhere in sight, axes in motion. The brave auxiliary of Lenda soldiers who had stayed behind had been engulfed. There would be no escaping. They would have to fight and claim victory.

  Or at the very least, let their lieges retreat easily. There must have been some reason to pull back. A new attack somewhere else they must defend, or a diversion where they will sweep wide and to the flanks to come to the Red Feather’s rescue. For any reason, she must do her duty. They would hold and protect their rear.

  Eira’s beloved Red Feathers, her beloved Kingdom, and those who ruled it. All was annihilated that day.

  They survived for far longer than they had any right to. The Divine Hammers had gone berserk in their slaughter, but still she fought on, heartened to know that their Lord Prince would live to see another day.

  Alone, unbreakable, unshakable, Eira stood. Alone, before an army of frothing Uxsons, and the man she would come to hate with every ounce of her being.

  It was a bloody battle, but if they had pushed a bit more, they would have won. Prosperity would have been gained for Lenda.

  But that did not matter now; the only important thing was her duty.

  Her regiment had known that, as they were killed to the last.

  Eira planted her feet into the muddy, blood-soaked ground. Rain pelted her harder than any of the foes’ blows. “I will not bend.”

  “Would you mind explaining this to me, Truthsayer?” Frieda asked, though there was no particular urgency or frustration in her voice.

  “We are not here to do battle, Divine Hammer,” Eira answered instead, “This is a quick action to ensure the King of Zernau reevaluates his decision.”

  Frieda smirked. “Ah, yes, I believe I saw you when you all first arrived in Znseruff. Strange that I did not interact with you at all after that point, but I digress. Move aside, we are sanctioned by Cwach, and must make it to the capital.

  “I cannot do that. You will simply have to wait.”

  “You make it sound like you have any choice in the matter. I’m not one to strike at the commander of a dead group, nor one to go against a comrade’s request. Vhorn doesn’t want anyone else touching you, so he demanded that everyone lay off if we found you. Still, this little gathering of people is far outnumbered, outskilled. I could crush them all and leave you alone as we march.”

  Eira stiffened at the man’s name. There were so many things she wanted to do in that moment, so many places she would rather be. Somehow, she kept her composure. She wore her plumed helmet proudly. The gazes of those around her were not judgmental, nor ones of worry. They looked to her, the Captain of the famed Red Feathers.

  Had she been imagining it this whole time? No, there had certainly been a stir of emotions in those who set their gaze upon her, but perhaps it had not been the revile she saw. The betrayal had left her shattered, the rumors an ever-growing sore. Being around the Lenda Royal family had been the worst of it.

  In Zernau, hardly a word had been uttered against her. Even the Lenda soldiers in the crowd expected her to lead. Eira did not want to become the person she once was; however, she would do it to protect Brodwyn.

  She held her ground in front of the Divine Hammer. Unflappable. Unyielding. She had done her duty that day; there was nothing to be ashamed of. She would continue to fulfill her obligations until peace finally found her.

  “Have it your way,” Frieda finally said with a shrug.

  As the woman turned away, Emerii said from the crowd, “Does it not feel too soon to do battle? I thought we would wait for your Uxsons’ favored channao.”

  On a swivel, the Divine Hammer turned back with a bright expression. “Emerii! You joined them as well?”

  Eira held her firm expression, but she wanted to let out a chuckle when she saw the expression of discomfort on Emerii’s face.

  “Yes, someone has to make up for the lack of numbers.”

  “I’m sure you would too. Shall we dance then?” Frieda reached for her sword.

  The crowd stiffened.

  “You silly woman,” Emerii replied with arms crossed, “Is this any place suitable for our battle? Everyone knows there will be a major battle during channao. There is no reason to spoil the fun here.”

  The Uxson frowned. “Do you all really believe that Cwach will change his mind?”

  “The Promised One will make it so,” Idwyn said. “For now, Frieda, you should wait. It may worsen relations to attempt to barge in with a slaughtering of Drajin.”

  “All of your Kingdoms will fall underfoot eventually, but I suppose a grand stage does suit us better.” Frieda eyed Emerii. “I will halt for now, but I will need something to occupy my attention. Join me for a walk, Emerii. We will hold back, for now.”

  Eira laughed inwardly at the downtrodden posture of her companion.