“C’mon! Where’s the harm?”

  “No.”

  “Won’t need more’n a small boost, honest! Strike my stepmother down if I tell a lie!”

  “No.”

  “Oh, where’s your sense of adventure!”

  “No.”

  “I reckon it’d barely be an inconvenience for you lot, sturdy as you are.”

  “No.”

  “It’s a bleedin’ violation, is what it is! Should be a damned crime! Tryin’ to stiff a man so near the eave of his ascension! Have you no shame?!”

  “The answer is still no.”

  “Argh! Alright fine! How about this-?”

  “No.”

  “You didn’t even let me finish!”

  “I can guess.”

  “Damn you and your frozen heart, woman! What did I ever do to deserve this?”

  “Do you want a complete list, or shall I start ticking things off on my fingers?”

  “Ungrateful little-! See here, you witch! Are you really gonna make me beg? You are aren’t you?”

  “Not that it would help, but, please, feel free to try.”

  “Tell me, does it excite you? Bringing a proud man to his knees? It does, doesn’t it? You sick wee bastard you?”

  “I’ll openly admit, it’d be a sight worth seeing at least once before I die.”

  “You’re a twisted, vile thing, you know that?”

  “Yes well, you’ve seen fit to remind me on more than one occasion, so I think I’m starting to get the gist by now.”

  “Cmon!” S. Jun refused to change tact. “Thaw that icy heart of yours, won’t you? We’ll be back before you know it. Won’t take but a minute, I swear!”

  Above them, the sky trembled as yet another celestial barrage met elemental bombardment.

  Brilliant golden spears made of holy light, they spilled forth by the dozens, the hundreds, the thousands.

  Cutting through the sky like some congested meteor shower, only to then be stymied by an equal showing of force. The full compliment of the queen’s knightly cohort coming together in a truly awe inspiring display. Multihued projectiles gracefully arced overhead. Their thunderous, pealing, sometimes whistling reports setting the firmament to shuddering.

  To quaking ominously.

  Metallic ballistae the size of small wagon trains paralleled grand bolts of lightning like bright rents in the sky. Golem constructs made entirely of stone lumbered after meters long javelins draped in shadow and ice. The very sky torn asunder as glimmering streaks of emerald, and scarlet, and imperial gold made to collide with the cascade of holy retribution.

  There was a flash, a boom, a sudden roar nearly deafening. And then, by the time Eleanor had blinked away the purplish afterimages, the gruesome black gashes—jagged rents in the fabric of reality—formed in the aftermath of their transcendent clash had very nearly vanished. Nearly, though not quite. Not fast enough to elude Eleanor’s notice, at any rate.

  It would seem that this war was not only tearing her people apart, but the very fabric of the world itself.

  “And you think a minute’s going to be enough time for us to outrun that?”

  Jun grunted.

  “Bastards. Don’t care if you have wings. Keep your heels on the topsoil, I say. Unfair taking to the skies where good honest folk can’t get atcha. Inconsiderate is what that is. I swear. Reckon it’s just bloody rude of them, and cowardly besides. And you! Are you just gonna stand for this? Don’t you think their due a good long thrashing? You know, bring them back down to earth, as if were. Reacquaint them with the taste of home grown soil like the good gods intended, I mean. As a matter of fact-! In a manner of speaking, I reckon it’s our civic duty to-”

  “Entirely out of the question.”

  “Dog shite!”

  “The Major-”

  “Oh, screw the bloody Major! She can go hang for all I care! String her up by her toes and leave her eyes for the crows! Slather her in pitch and use that pike soundly rammed up her board of an arse for wood kindling!”

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  “Jun! That is not how one should refer to their superior officer!”

  She paused.

  “And besides, everyone knows sodden kindling doesn’t catch.”

  Jun barked out a surprised laugh, while Lucile, on the other hand, shot her an alarmed glance.

  Understandable, given the fact that, until now, she’d presented herself as nothing less than the bland, diligent, and dutiful young soldier everyone apparently wanted her to be. After all the idiotic bumbling and outright incompetence she’d seen perpetuated, again and again, by those in positions of highest command however?

  Well, suffice it to say, she suddenly found that she didn’t care a whit for propriety. Not in private at least. Lucile quickly broke in before the borderline insubordination could escalate.

  “Believe me, sir familiar,” she offered. “I’m all for your enthusiasm and… vivid imageries, but the fact still remains that I have my orders, and you, unfortunately, cannot fly. Unless…? That is to say… that is the case, is it not? Corporal Eleanor, would I be correct in assuming flight is not within the purview of your miraculous familiar’s many capabilities?”

  Eleanor snorted.

  “At this point, I’m genuinely flattered you think I have any idea. Still, I’d wager it’s a no. Seeing as, if he could, you can be sure that, of all places, he wouldn’t be here, with us, still grumbling on about it.”

  “Who said I was grumbling?!”

  “Whining then.”

  Jun jerked back. Aghast. Incensed. Outraged! Before the offended mask slid away and he broke out into a cackling fit of laughter. Contrary to expectations, the brutish S. Jun—quick to anger and even quicker to violence—could never resist a good ribbing.

  Now, as to the likelihood of such a heated exchange ending in a bare knuckled brawl-fest to the black and bloody death? Well, it hadn’t happened so far, though she also didn’t think that was necessarily the norm. Eleanor suspected she’d been somewhat fortunate in that regard.

  “In any event, I’ve no doubts you’d survive such an excursion, sir familiar, though little Lucy and I most certainly would not. I’d rather not sacrifice my life for the greater good if I can help it. Especially when the Queen and her member seem to be handling things just fine.”

  Jun growled incomprehensibly at that, though, thankfully, he didn’t argue. Only slump into his borrowed saddle and continue to mutter darkly to himself—fists glowing with the metallic sheen that always promised wholesale and indiscriminate ruination…

  He’d be fine.

  Below the tufted bellies of their flying mounts, far closer than she was honestly comfortable with, an unending mass of rift spawn streamed past. The gathered multitude—an eclectic mix of attunements, bestial features, and abilities—all mustered under the angelic banner of the enemy lord commander.

  Bodies flickered past, too fast for her to see. The occasional projectile chucked their way as a matter of course—be it some random boulder or a targeted spell—forcing the majestic griffins they rode upon to swiftly dodge and weave. Executing sharp turns and death-defying maneuvers, even as they rocketed through the air on gale force winds.

  Ultimately leaving their passengers with little choice but to hold on for dear life. Jerked this way and that, like rag dolls on horseback—always one poorly fastened buckle away from an ungraceful dismount, followed by swift and almost certain demise. That her surly familiar found the breath to complain throughout all of this, merely a testament to his sheer bull headedness, if nothing else.

  “How much longer?” Eleanor called, relieved of the need to strain her voice due to the bubble of winds surrounding them.

  “Not long, now Corporal! We’re nearly there!” Lucile called back.

  Glancing down, Eleanor watched the rippling tide of bodies flicker past, until Lucile announced.

  “This is the place!”

  And, as if a switch had been flipped, Jun’s previously dour mood practically turned on a dime.

  A wide smile spread across his face, before he rose from the griffin’s saddle—its rider scrambling to unfasten the many buckles restraining him, lest he barrel straight on through the complex harness by sheer force of will. And then, without ceremony or further ado, he slipped silently from griffin back, tilting forward until he fell headlong towards the churning mass below, fists gleaming with a crushing, metallic polish.

  BOOM!

  There was an impact that could be felt, even from their place, hovering, high up in the air. A shockwave, a chorus of terrified shrieks, followed by a mad, insane cackling which seemed to cut through it all. Stray body parts arced. A reptilian torso, it’s ribcage caved in, climbing high to flip gracefully overhead.

  “I’d… better follow after him.”

  “Queens blessings be upon you, Corporal.”

  “And you, Lieutenant.”

  Rising to her feet, azure flame swiftly engulfed Eleanor’s body. Enveloping her completely with an impressive sounding WHOOMPH. Then she too leapt from saddle back, nearly a hundred feet up all things told—immediately plummeting like a stone. Feeling her stomach suddenly lurch, the air whip past—wreaking havoc on her braids and prying tears from her eyes—she grit her teeth, kept herself loose, and braced for imminent collision.

  When it finally arrived, she actually found herself equipped to handle it. She bent her knees with the impact, rolling to absorb some of the force, a thick cloud of dust kicked up in the wake of her passing. Flowing to her feet with liquid grace, she took a moment to appreciate her own accomplishment.

  Not too shabby.

  In fact, she thought she’d made for a rather smart looking figure, all things considered. She wondered idly if the faraway strike team had noticed.

  Taking a quick survey of her immediate surroundings, she saw that she’d landed squarely in the middle of a crater. One her familiar had apparently formed upon making his own grand entrance.

  Show off.

  Eleanor ducked, deflecting several spine projectiles in rapid succession, each about the size, and moving at around the same speed, of an expertly thrown war javelin.

  Glancing up, she watched as a tide of rift spawn, perhaps a hundred strong with many more pressing behind them, began to spill over the lip of the massive crater. Their momentary confusion utterly forgotten when presented with the offered promise of prey, served up on a golden platter. All alone, defenseless, and ripe for the plucking.

  BOOM!

  A second explosion sent many a rift spawn sprawling. Tumbling down the steep, bowl shaped incline. The blast of concussive force came from somewhere far off to her right. Eleanor grimaced. Someone to watch her back wouldn’t have gone terribly amiss right about now.

  Slowly rotating, as if she had any hope of keeping the whole of the approaching tide in her sights, she sighed.

  Nothing for it then.

  Eleanor sprang into motion. Soul fire empowering her steps, she raced headlong towards the sounds of wholesale slaughter. Of destruction, the occasional explosion, and the delirious pitch of maniacal laughter.

  A mad cackling which struck fear into those unfortunate enough to hear it. Even the blackened hearts and minds of the vast demonic hoard could help but tremble.