Is this what I was made for...? Is this who I am?

However confident and skillful Terra seemed as she weaved through the city streets, moving through the low tidal water as if it was air, her mind was a confused mess. All around her, she could hear others falling; she could hear people dying. Momentarily, she began to wonder about her being here, about her mission to return Aleris to death. Why had it been so important? She couldn't remember, but things had been put in motion and it was much too late to turn back now. Aleris would once more be hers again.

Her thoughts were shaken from her when she met the barred doors of the castle. This distraction made her stop briefly, a low growl escaping her lips. Just then, a voice called behind her and she turned her head quickly, crimson colored eyes scanning the area. It was Blend; it appeared that he had followed her from Galenous' resting place and was now asking her how they should get past the doors. Easily, she could have shifted and flew over the gate without him, but it was shortly opened by a wraith that undid the latches on the other side of the gate.

Terra left Blend behind without a second glance as he winked at her and proceeded forward into the castle's courtyard. As the castle gates were now open, a flood of the undead poured into the courtyard as well, adding more havoc and bloodshed to the already chaotic situation. Terra stopped, glancing through the flurry of people in the courtyard. There on one of the castle walls she saw what she was looking for. Alerion and the remaining two deities of Aleris - Aurora and Elysia.

She was then back into a running pace, her twin swords still at her sides and proceeded to the stairs that led towards that high wall. It was there that she met Deanna DiCorvino. Deanna wanted to challenge her and Terra was more than happy to oblige. As the two women engaged each other, Terra recognized that Deanna was clearly more skilled then most of the other soldiers she had mowed down in her path. Then again, Deanna was no soldier as she was not dressed in any uniform; still the woman fought with ferocity as if to stop Terra and protect the city in the process.

It would not be enough. They fought upwards, Terra pushing Deanna back up the steps. Deanna wanted to end this, but Terra would not allow this woman to stop her or slow her down. So they fought in the direction towards Alerion and the goddesses. For a while, it had been amusing trading blows with Deanna. Deanna had even managed to inflict a few wounds on Terra, slashes across her arms which were likely made in an attempt to prevent Terra using twin swords. Terra had enough.

One of her swords went upwards towards Deanna's face - a minor distraction - and Deanna took the bait. For a moment, Terra wondered how that had been so easy. Did Deanna want to die? She knew very well that Terra had two swords and was further reminded of that fact when the second plunged through Deanna's stomach. Deanna's sword fell to the ground, clanging noisily as it did, and she fell in the direction of Terra. Briefly, as Deanna looked at Terra, her face still defiant and proud with those somehow fiery, hazel colored eyes, it reminded of her sister, Psyche. Terra almost felt bad - almost.

That was until Deanna warned her with threats that her lovers or whatever they were would be after Terra to rip her heart out. Terra smiled softly - even let out a laugh - and then ripped her sword upwards and out of Deanna, adding further damage. Deanna fell to the ground, holding her midsection, although the effort was futile. After about a minute or so of Terra watching, gazing down at Deanna, the woman's eyes glazed over giving in to death. Terra knew this was her cue to move on and so she headed onward once more towards her destination, leaving an open-mouthed Blend in tow.

Terra was barely gone from Deanna's shadow when she heard this horrible, agonizing yell coming from someone. When she turned around, Terra found herself watching a man who was cradling Deanna's corpse while being attacked by the hungry Aliscowri and apparently was talking to himself. Tears of anguish were crawling down his face across his cheeks and Terra was going to turn away from this scene when something happened.

"Aww. Don't cry young man. You're ugly when you cry. My army will send you to your lover soon enough."

That wasn't her. That wasn't her voice. Sure, she had killed people and anyone who tried to stop her, but never had Terra dare to taunt the fallen and wounded. Terra had some honor and dignity left in her, despite raising the dead, destroying cities, taking souls, etc. So then if it was not her, then...

Do not put words into my mouth - ever again.

But it's fun.

I thought I wasn't going to speak with you for quite some time during this whole thing? You are being distracting and taunting these people.

Look how pathetic he is, though? Wouldn't you agree he needs a good slap across the face?

Terra remained silent to the voice in her head. There was an undeniable chill that ran across her arms as she watched Quinn. Did that really sound like something Psyche would say? In all her years she had known and cared for her sister, she had never known Psyche to tease and poke fun of others. For the first time since her awakening she was starting to wonder if the demanding voice inside her head was really Psyche.

Terra was brought back to the present once more and with her doubts aside, she turned to leave the mess that was Quinn Redmont behind. In her haste to proceed, she did not see Quinn shift into a towering gray werewolf, a mass of muscle and anger throwing the Aliscowri to the side as he charged towards her. It was the sound of his growl that eventually warned her. Terra had just enough time to bring one of her swords up, blocking Quinn's advance, while the other sword sliced through his torso.

This did not stop the werewolf though who was pushing forward even while being impaled by one of her swords. Quinn's undeniable strength was forcing her backwards and Terra was fighting to keep her feet balanced. She had brought one of her other swords up, intent on knocking out Quinn and leaving him to his own misery rather than death, when his clawed hands reached out towards her waist. Due to his sacrifice, razor-like claws sliced through the fabric of her clothes and armor, leaving gashes across her abdomen. She did not cry out, but instead bit her bottom lip hard and release Quinn in the process by bringing her leg upwards and kicking him in the stomach.

Quinn fell backwards on the ground and Terra stumbled as well; a hand still clutching her sword went to her stomach feeling warm blood. This delighted Quinn who was smiling triumphantly and licking the crimson liquid off his claws in response. Terra's brows narrowed as Quinn mentioned something about her being tasty. It took just about everything in her power not to go over there and cut that grin right off of his muzzle. Instead, she turned away from Quinn right as Isabella flew through the air, defending the unaware werewolf from a gang of undead, and headed across the high wall.

She only just noticed that her legs were shaking when she ran into the path of Maxim Redmont. It was his red eyes, much like her own, that caught Terra off-guard for a few seconds. She regarded him curiously wishing he'd just get out of the way. Terra wanted to push past Maxim, but she would not be granted a pardon by him. Again, she drew up her swords and with her strength only slightly wavering, dashed towards Maxim, their blades clanging together as they met.

Maxim moved with the same speed and elegant fighting techniques that she once had at the start of this battle. Terra knew, thanks to her injuries, if she didn't get past Maxim soon, that it would likely be her downfall. She took a chance. Terra purposely moved into one of his hits, allowing his blade to slice across the length of her forearm. A groan was hidden behind pursed lips. She used this distraction, purposely teetering on her feet to give her an advantage over Maxim. Unexpectedly, Terra suddenly slashed forward with one of her swords, strangely enough giving him the same wound across his forearm. After this, she ducked past him, dashing forward under one of his blade's swings and sprinted towards the end of the wall.

She did not get very far as she was blocked by the demon Blend followed around - the Iltorian. Now, she couldn't even see her target in sight and Terra was aware she had little to no time before Maxim and Quinn would catch up with her again. Completely taking her by surprise, the Iltorian snapped its jaws downward, though not directed at her. It latched onto her sword and Terra held on to the hilt as she was lifted by the blade into the air. She dangled, trying to kick at the demon and make him let go over her sword. The demon beast would not give in.

I knew I couldn't count on you to finish this. You're just going to let this dog take your weapons from you?

"I am... trying," Terra growled through clenched teeth. Her response, however, was not subconscious, so anyone around her might have heard she was talking to "herself".

All I asked was for you to destroy Aleris and make us both happy once more. Is that so much to ask? Now... stop wrestling with the Iltorian and HURRY. These last few words were demanding and seemed to waver between the sound of Psyche's voice and some one else's.

I don't think I have been happy for quite some time throughout this whole ordeal. And... tell me, when did your voice change?

... Silence.

You're not Psyche at all. Who are you?

There would be no response from the stranger inside her head as Terra struggled with the Itolrian. She contemplated just dropping the swords and giving in to escape as she now knew she was being manipulated by someone's voice that was not her sister's. How could she have been so foolish? After all of this, there was no denying it. Pysche was still dead and she was still very alone - a puppet that was resurrected and easily bent to another's will.

Despite all of these thoughts, Terra eventually got the upper hand on the Itolrian. Being a shapeshifter, she let go of her sword, dropping to the ground on her feet and changed into the form of the Itolrian. With equal prowess now, Terra lashed forward and knocked the Itolrian off the wall, sending the demon to the ground. As her sword left the beast's teeth, she switched back to her normal form and caught it in the air. Arming herself with both her weapons, Terra at long last reached her destination and came face to face with King Alerion himself and the two remaining goddesses of the realm.

It was almost as if she had wanted to be outnumbered. In fact, her once skilled and deadly swordplay had turned sloppy. As magic flew in her direction from the Goddess of Winter and Spring, Terra tried to evade what she could. If it had been anyone else, they might have run knowing this was a losing battle, but Terra advanced forward to Alerion. The king and Terra engaged in a very short combat. At this point, she knew what she needed to do. Although Alerion would prove to be her downfall - his combat training also very excellent - Terra was able to tie some lose ends together. One of her blades thrust forward, spearing Alerion through the stomach. Alerion yelled out, but still held onto his sword as Terra leaned towards him whispering.

"Please, you must kill me," she said.

If anyone else was there, they might have seen Alerion weakly nod. The king's sword was brought up and impaled Terra through her stomach, much in the same manner she had stabbed him. Together, Alerion and Terra crumbled to the floor, weapons if any dropping from their hands. Terra breathed in rigidly, looking up at the night sky and watching the stars that despite the battle that had raged on, were still twinkling like fireflies.

I can't believe you got yourself killed... You were so useless after all.

Terra turned from the evening sky and then looked towards Alerion who was staring back at her. The Goddess of Spring and Winter were over Alerion, trying to repair his wounds, but the damage had been done. The two of them were both dying. Terra gazed over at the fallen king and then upwards to Aurora and Elysia.

"I... cannot ask for forgiveness... but please, know that... I was not acting on behalf of my sister or my own wishes," Terra said, choking on her own blood. "There is... something else at work here... Something that seeks to..."

Her words trailed off and in the breath that was her last, Alerion also slipped into darkness. The God Slayer, as she had been dubbed it, and the King of Grand City and most of Aleris were now dead. As she passed on, darkness collecting Terra, the undead she had summoned obediently went back into the earth. The zombies crawled back into the ground, the wraiths and spirits disappeared and once again Aleris was quiet save for the sounds of those sobbing over their lost loved ones.

Terra's swords disintegrated, vaporizing into dust and as a result, Galenous and Tempesturo were set free, flickering into appearance besides their sisters. Once the four deities were back together again, they wasted no time heading to the Hinewai Harbor. Under any normal circumstance, the gods would have stayed with Alerion, but there was still a Val`nothe to take care of, one they needed to bring back to the Eternal Lake and seal away, before Verial Akilara got himself further hurt. Guards and castle officials had already rushed over to care for their fallen king, some of them in the process making sure that Terra was indeed dead. Nevertheless, the sight of Tempesturo and Galenous being freed and the undead going away was evidence enough to her death.

If there was one thing she had wanted, Terra thought before her death, it was for Aleris to not be destroyed, but to live on and thrive, even if she and her sister were but forgotten memories. There was no way she would ever receive redemption for the sins she had committed, but she still wished she had not been so easily manipulated. And... she wished she was not dying alone and instead was with Pysche like so many long years ago. These last thoughts, however fleeting, were followed up with that mysterious voice in her head.

Don't worry. Eventually I will take care of Aleris - without you.

Post originally by Character_Alaina Ravenholm

The flame haired woman watched the battle scene from the safety of the clocktower, her eyes impossibly wide with fright and disbelief as she watched the scene of carnage and senseless destruction play out before her like some living nightmare. She bore witness to the demonic young woman who literally raised an army of dead to serve her in bringing out the annihilation of the Grand City, it's residents, and the King who ruled over all. She watched as the Aliscowri were released upon the City, cried out with horror as they tore soldier and citizen, adults and children, to shreds and feasted upon their corpses. So sickened was she that many a time, Alaina Ravenholm had to turn from the massacre of innocents, of heroes who died while protecting their people, their City and their King.

She had caught sight of Maxim and his brother, the therianthrope Quinn, prior to the slaughter as they insanely tackled the Val'nothe. “Why? This isn't your fight!” She had cried out at the time, grateful when the dragon intervened and set them to safety. Alaina had hopes that the Kinslayer would come to his senses and flee from this chaos when her focus was drawn to the necromancer fighting against the woman, Deanna.

Alaina couldn't help the bitterness that encompassed her as she watched with envy, the therianthrope female fight against the murderous young woman. Maxim wasn't particularly forthcoming with personal information about himself and those he surrounded himself with, but on occasion, he would share a bit of knowledge with her. While Alaina knew little enough about the warrior woman, she took note that when Maxim did mention her, his features softened some and his voice took on a strange tone. Alaina was shocked when the woman fell, and immediately turned to gauge Maxim's reaction. The Kinslayer was joined by his sister, and their reunion was short lived when he too noticed the demise of Deanna. Though he gave no true indication of how the woman's death affected him, but Alaina knew by his sudden stillness, Maxim Redmont took a devestating blow.

His brother howled his rage and Alaina watched with transfixed curiosity as he transformed into his wolf form and attacked Terra, an attack followed up by Maxim. Her chest tightened as he fought against the she-demon, and though she cheered when Maxim marked the woman, icy fear gripped her when she saw Terra had drawn blood upon the Redmont Lord. “No!” Her hands curved into fists as her nails dug painfully into her palms. Breathlessly, she viewed the melee, and sighed with relief as suddenly Terra changed tactics and charged against Alerion. It wasn't that she feared the Redmont Lord would meet his final death, seeing as he was more than capable of handling himself in battle. Still, each time Terra's swords came too close, Alaina felt her heart stop.

Transfixed, Alaina watched the pitifully short engagement between Terra and the King, which to her great surprised, resulted in both of their deaths. As quickly as it began, it ended. Breifly Alaina considered Quinn's reaction to the denial of that which was by right, solely his. It was no concern of hers in truth, only Maxim's safety. His wounds were not grave, but Alaina knew he would require blood to heal himself. "You can do nothing for him, Maxim. Take your leave, now."

Full lips curved into a smile as she folded her arms across her breasts. She would wait, patiently. Eventually he would return to her, as he had done many times before. Maxim would require blood...and comfort. Alaina would provide both, whether he wanted them or not.

Wish thought she had done her part, though in the scope of things, the effort she had put forth to help protect Grand City was very minimal. There was nothing that could be done about that though really. The city was big, their enemies bigger and she was only one small Fae in comparison. So while she fought and took out what zombies and wraiths she could with her trusty new rapier, in the end, there was still so much work ahead to get the city started back on the road to recovery.

There was chaos everywhere - people were dying, yet no one wanted to give up. She fought her way towards the castle gates and away from Hinewai Harbor. In the frenzy of it all, she lost Victor and quite often her thoughts flickered to him, trying to grasp onto hope that he was okay. How one loses sight of a griffin was beyond her, but it had happened. She could not look for him, however. With the vast number of undead swarming the city, her eyes were on herself only, trying to avoid the hungry mouths of the cannibalistic Aliscowri.

When she could, she reached out and gave wounded soldiers and townsfolk heals. These were usually brief touches of magic and while not a thorough healing, it gave the people enough energy to get back up on their feet again and protect the city. Thankfully, her healing magic gave the opposite comfort to the undead. Against them, she was able to switch from defensive mode into offensive mode. Since her healing magic was partially based on holy elements and partially based on the stars, it was quite effective against the undead. While she had her rapier, she wasn't against blasting some zombies and ghosts in the face with holy magic. If anything, she hoped that the use of her magic - the white light occasionally flickering throughout the crowd almost like a firefly - would draw Victor towards her.

She couldn't say she went unharmed though. She had a few bite marks on her from the Aliscowri and zombies and some strange wounds that looked more like burns from wraiths and ghosts. Wish began to get worried though. It seemed like all around her, people were dropping left and right. This battle was going to destroy the city soon if something did happen.

And then just like that as her thoughts wavered towards hopelessness, something did happen. Wish was right outside the open castle courtyard gates when the ground suddenly shook all and the undead seeped into the earth, going back to their resting places. Wraiths and ghosts flickered into thin air, moaning in protest for a moment and then all was silent. Normally, a victory like this would have warranted a cheer, but there was just no more spirit left in anyone and she didn't blame a soul for feeling helpless like the way they did.

Wish stepped into the castle's courtyard, her hand still tightly wrapped around her rapier's hilt and looked around. It was an eerie scene; the once beautiful gardens and courtyard lawn littered with dead bodies, blood and people struggling to pull themselves up. Wish bit her bottom lip and closed her olive colored eyes; she knew when she opened them this disaster would still be there, but she allowed herself a short moment of reprieve and prayer.

When Wish opened her eyelids again, she was looking at one of the high walls that surrounded the castle. Upon that wall she saw a familiar, large gray wolf that she recognized as Quinn. But something was wrong; she could tell by the way he was slumped over slightly. Furthermore, she couldn't see Deanna anywhere so immediately she ran towards the stairs leading to that wall, dodging past people as she went. Once at the top of the stairs, she stopped in her tracks, her breath catching in her throat.

Deanna was dead; a vicious looking sword wound had ripped her open and she was covered with some bite marks from the Aliscowri. Both of Wish's hands cupped over her open mouth and tears threatened to spill from her olive colored eyes at the sight of Deanna - once so strong and proud - unmoving and lifeless on the ground. Wish also noticed that King Alerion was not far off laying side by side another woman with raven colored hair - both of them dead. Was she the cause of all of this?

She seemed to snap out of her trance when some natural urge to heal called her. When she looked over, she realized Quinn was bleeding from a sword wound to the abdomen. Her hands lowered from her mouth and she got down on her knees next to the werewolf. Part of her was terrified to do this, thinking he might bite her face off. Obviously, he was probably anguished and upset right now, but still she reached out, wrapping her arms around his silver colored fur, her hands seeking the open wound. Before Quinn could protest, possibly thinking he would rather die by his mate's side, Wish let warm, white light wash over him, the wound on his stomach healing. After a few minutes, the flesh came back together and Quinn would have been more easily able to breathe without being in immense pain.

Wish slid back some against the brick floor of the high wall and shook her head softly as she looked at Quinn. "I'm so sorry," Wish said. "Deanna... she wouldn't have wanted you to die also." This was true, but more importantly, she imagined that had she left Quinn to die when she could have done something, Deanna would have somehow managed to come back as a ghost and haunt her.

The Fae pushed herself up, but at this point, she had realized just how shaky her whole body was. She collected herself and walked to the opposite end of the high wall, her back towards the others. She looked towards the north entrance of Grand City where the gates had fallen of their hinges, where houses had been burned and rummaged to the ground and where still so much death and pain lingered. Only then did she let warm tears fall across her cheeks from her eyes. While she could say she didn't know Deanna very well and that the two had their fair share of "spats", never did she want to imagine the therianthrope dying. And never did she want to imagine that so many others had died in the same fight as well.

Madrin had just dispatched yet another wraith when the entire undead horde returned to the dust from which it came. Their where only twenty Aliscowri remaining including one of those evil child mages when the horde vanished. Madrin watched them all suddenly change their targets to a babbling priest who seemed unharmed by the battle apart from the puke he was soaked with likely his own. He had no idea why they suddenly changed behavior but, he wouldn't let them have their way. Madrin charged and tackled the madman to the ground as a stream of flame issued from the child passed over their heads harmlessly. He then rolled towards the creature that hid in the shape of a child and struck the boys head off its shoulders, as he got on his feet in one clean blow. The body kept moving however and charged the madman where he lay in a stupor. Madrin had a plan for that as well though, he brought the full strength of his bare fist down on the things head. It exploded like a rotten piece of fruit and, the body collapsed like a puppet with cut strings. The other nineteen Aliscowri stopped their pursuit of the mad priest and stood in place dazed at that moment. After the evil things body finally stopped twitching all of the cannibals simultaneously retched every vile thing they had eaten that day. When their dry heaves stopped Madrin asked nearby soldiers to chain the Aliscowri up and gag them.

Some complied while others cursed him for even thinking about anything else but killing them. Madrin laughed and offered them a choice do as he said or die right now. He would not allow their biased thoughts to cause harm to innocent people. With that some simply walked away and others helped the ones that had listened at first. One of the soldiers asked him why he thought the evil cannibals where innocent, the others were listening as well though they tried to hide it.

"That's easy men, all you had to do was check their reaction when the demon child died. They were clearly its puppets that had lost their own will. Now take them to the infirmary only a healer will be able to help them now," Madrin let all this settle the soldiers thoughts and awaited their cooperation.

Next he asked two more soldiers to take the priest to the castle medical room as well. Madrin surveyed the carnage as he watched those poor people get taken to a place to receive help. His chain shirt had been shredded beyond repair and. he had so many wounds that he knew he should have been dead ten times over. "Thank you Aurora, Elysia, Galenous and Tempesturo for aiding everyone in seeing this horrible battle to an end." "I thank you most of all Aurora for your protection I owe you a lot." This was the last thing he thought as he pitched over in a pool of his own blood and descended into darkness.

Blend did his best to stay out of the way while the fighting raged on. He was never much of a fighter. After the arrow wound in his shoulder, he was disinclined to risk his life for ... what? He wasn't even sure.

When he heard the cheers, he knew the Aliscowri had been defeated and the undead repelled somehow. The dead and insane don't cheer - not like that. He pulled open the doorway of the house he'd hid in and peered out into the blood-soaked remnants of the Grand City.

The gore was cleaning itself up impressively quick, he realized. Bodies were being wheeled away even as he watched. Troops from Jade and Joi had finally liberated the city - though it was too late - and they were now busy clearing the streets of all the gore. It'd take weeks to clean up all the signs of battle, but the bodies were horrific and people were eager to remove those ghastly remains from the city.

What happened to the Iltorian? Blend wondered, but he dared not go outside. With the Aliscowri defeated, he was now an enemy of the King. He'd seen what they were doing to the Aliscowri. Some were killed outright. Others had more unsultory deaths - beaten to death, or tortured. Inevitably they were slain and their bodies were carted off with the rest.

He spied nineteen Aliscowri, tied to a rafter with ropes, their hands dangling above their heads. They were gagged, and soldiers and citizens alike had gathered around to exact petty revenge. For some reason, they hadn't killed or maimed the Aliscowri. Blend suspected they were captives. Instead, people flung stones or jabbed at them with sticks and sword-points. One man was smashing a wooden training sword against a captive's leg. The Aliscowri dangled helplessly.

Blend considered his options. When he spied the corpse of a Captain of the City Watch, he sprung into action.

There is a reason this man is called Blend. His friends had quickly learned he possessed an uncanny ability to act like just about anyone. He'd earned his name on a slaver vessel, where he was acting as a freed oarsman so he could sail across the sea and reach Heruin where he'd sell his smuggled goods and make a healthy profit. Only catch was - he wasn't supposed to be on that ship. It took them two weeks on the high waters before they discovered his secret, and his smuggled loot. They took the contraband but forgave him nonetheless, and he worked aboard that ship known as Blend for months thereafter.

When he stripped the guards clothes and strode out into the city, no one would have guessed he wasn't a Captain of the Guard. He strutted proudly, his chin raised high, his left hand comfortably resting on the hilt of his longsword. His crimson cape draped behind him thick with blood. Blend hoped they wouldn't notice.

"Who's holding these captives?!" Blend demanded as he approached the other guards. His tone of voice and the emblems on his armor apparently inspired obedience, for the soldiers straightened up and began stammering out a response.

"I.. I am, Sir, but.. well, I guess.. We're takin' them to the infirmary.."

"No, he's got it wrong.. we're just holdin' them. It was that man.."

"Madrin.."

"Yeah, but infirmiry's all fulled up an' they don't want to heal these guys anyways, so we're just.."

"Beating them to a bloody pulp?" Blend spat the words out. "What use is a dead captive?! You're relieved of your duty, sirs. Go dig some holes outside the city. And don't give me that look boy or I'll beat you just the same as you did this Aliscowri. Step to!"

Blend watched with pleasure as they strode off, then approached the captives. "Which god do you worship?" he asked an Aliscowri, his voice no more than a whisper.

"The Lord of Summer."

Blend set about cutting the ropes from the captives, then he tied them up together in a row. He made a point of raising his voice as he yanked the captives towards the city gate. They followed him like the tail of some chaotic worm. "Come with me, bloody cannibals! I hear there's plenty of corpses in the holes where you're goin'. Hope you like the taste of dirt!"

--

Maestro Carlain helped with the cleanup of the city. He'd come late, with two hundred men-at-arms from Jade and Joi, but late was better than never. The city was in desperate need of help. Bodies littered every nook and cranny of the Grand City, festering and spreading disease. Meanwhile, it was said the Val'nothe was still free but under attack from the four gods of Aleris.

Four gods? The scholar listened with patience. Apparently the leader of the undead, a beautiful witch with red eyes, had been slain but took the King himself with her. When she died, Galenous and Tempesturo were released.

They are but pawns, Maestro Carlain thought to himself as he blessed a corpse with oils. As are we all.

Uskul charged up to him. The man was enormous, and his armor made him seem a mountain among men. His stallion was black, with wild eyes and a nervous disposition, and it stomped the ground angrily as Uskul reined up. Uskul had lost his wife and family to the Aliscowri, and he'd gathered the men to assist the city. Judging from his vicious temper, he was upset they were too late.

"Maestro, we've killed all Aliscowri we can find.. but.. I thought you should know. The guards of the city have taken captives. Nineteen by the count. Out the gates." He clearly wanted permission to slay them.

"The denizens of the Grand City are our allies."

"And the Aliscowri our enemies. Let me run them down. I will leave the guards alone."

Maestro Carlain sighed and shook his head. "Leave them with the City Guard. I suspect they will be executed anyways. There is no love for cannibals here."

"They ate my wife alive! And my son! You expect me to stand idle while they--"

"Not idle, Uskul. Help me bless these poor souls, and see to their proper burial. Your wife had one, did she not? And your son? These men and women need that honor too. Their spirits are lingering in agony."

Uskul sighed, resigned, and climbed off his horse. "You're a better man than I, Maestro."

"No. Only a wiser man."

--

Ternal the dragon watched gods and goddesses battle with the furious monster. He stared in wonder as a conflict raged above the likes he'd never seen, setting the very sky afire. This was the first and last time that he'd ever see the four deities of Aleris together. They were amazing.

Tempesturo was amazing.

You're back, my god...

Ternal died happy. His broken corpse remained on the shoreline until the tide washed him away, and the aquatic Kharl'at joined his ancestors in the bottoms of the ocean.

The break of dawn, exactly twenty four hours since the end of the Great War and the death of King Alerion.

Less than an hour ago, Lady Layla Victoire, ruler of Bariston on the continent of Elved, arrived in Hinewai Harbor accompanied by her own personal guard, including her handmaiden and healer. She had quietly swallowed the horror she felt as she observed the surroundings of the Harbor, that feeling of sad revulsion only grew worse the closer she got to the City gates. The gods, reuinted at last, had finally dispatched of the final remaining Val'nothe, and for that, all were grateful.

So much destruction, so many dead and Alerion is among them.

How long had it been since Layla set foot upon Eiler, much less ventured into the City? It was something prior to most recently that she would not have dared do, for her pride prevented her. Now her pride was pushed aside, as she clutched the parchment handwritten by her own Captain requesting her immediate presence here within the castle. The King has been killed, the dead are everywhere, and the City has been ravaged. Layla had not hesitated and left personal advisers in charge of Bariston, at which point she immediately gathered her people and boarded an airship. Whatever she had previously felt for the people of Eiler, especially those of the Grand City, was pushed aside when she was informed of how much destruction and devastation had taken place here.

Surprisingly the sky was a brilliant shade of cerulean and cloudless, a balmy beautiful day in a land of such sadness. Layla peered out of the window in Alerion's official conference chambers. She had not quite set foot in the castle when she already began directing Bariston guardsmen to begin removing the corpses of the Alerian citizens. The number was far too great for the guard to transfer to the Cemetery for burial, so instead Layla ordered the bodies piled and burned in several magnificent pyres. Though she was briefed regarding the who's, where's and why's, Layla sent for Captain Pennington to fill her in on greater details. No stone would be left unturned in this particular situation.

“Lady, you are dusty from your travels. Shall I have a bath drawn for you? Perhaps you can wear the blue silks today?” Neera's thought's broke her reverie. Layla turned suddenly from the window to stare incredulously at her handmaiden. The girl was young, pretty, and without much sense in her head, but Layla had been unable to refuse the girl's eagerness at the honor of becoming one of Lady Victoire's personal handmaidens, so Layla agreed to take her into service. For the most part, Neera was most compliant and willing to serve, but there were moments when she opened her mouth (such as now), that Layla wanted to backhand her for her insolence.

The Lady did not strike the girl, instead she stalked over to the surprised child and grabbed her firmly by her arm, dragging her to the window. “What do you see Neera?” she demanded. The girl looked at her with wide fearful eyes and stuttered. “My...my lady....I..I don't understand...?” “What. Do. You. See?” Victoire demanded once more, her voice rising. “M..m...madness, lady! I see madness!” The girl began to tremble some, unused to her lady's angry outburst and behavior. Layla released the girl then and turned away in disgust. “That's right, Neera, madness. Never in my life have I witnessed such utter obliteration of an entire city and its people, and you ask me if I require a bath.” Victoire waved a hand at her servant. “Leave me.” Neera nodded and made a hasty retreat.

“She is a child, my lady and does not understand the ways of war.” Layla turned to acknowledge the owner of the oddly accented, yet soothing voice. Sahar had come to her from Heruin as a child, and Layla had watched as the magae/healer had grown into a lovely woman, who in turn became a friend and close confidant of the Lady Victoire. Sahar had a grace and exotic beauty that was unknown to the people of Elved, and though once a stranger to the northern lands, the desert woman quickly won the hearts of the people of Bariston. Her ease of nature, gentle voice and hands and kindly spirit drew Layla to her like a moth to flame. Sahar was a refreshing welcome and change to her court, and Layla grew to love her as a sister.

“You are too kind to her, Sahar, but truly the girl needs a reality check. These people have suffered immensely, and we are here not to pamper ourselves, but to give them whatever aid we can. It will take a long time for them to recover, for the City and castle to be rebuilt, for them to overcome the losses of their loved ones, but we must do whatever we can to transition them and give them peace and closure.” Layla pointed out as she glanced out the window once more. She could see her Captain approach the outer gates, his purposeful stride allowed a small smile to grace her lips.

She had sent Ambrose Pennington to the City two days prior with hopes that his presence might gain Alerion's guards an advantage. She had not known of the demonic woman with her black soulless eyes, the Aliscowi or the legions of undead that had raped the city and left it bloody and barren. Thank the gods for the reinforcements of soldiers from nearby Jade and Joi, for without them, surely the entire City and its people would have been nothing more than a memory in Alerian history. As it was, the City guard was reduced by more than eighty percent.

The magae moved from the corner she had positioned herself in, her skippered feet made no sound upon the roughened wood flooring as she went to Layla. Once more the ruler of Bariston was struck by her foreign beauty. Clad in cinnamon colored silken robes, she smiled warmly to Layla as she lay one slender copper colored hand upon the blonde woman's shoulder. “All in good time, my lady. We will provide for the people, I promise you. I am here to heal and protect.” Sahar's words were cut short as a sharp rap upon the heavy wooden door that led into Alerion's chambers was heard. “Come,” Layla called and was greeted by the sight of her Captain.

Captain Ambrose Pennington entered and stiffly bowed to his lady and her the magae healer. “Lady Victoire, Lady Sahar.” He greeted both women before all three took a seat at the long rectangular polished table. Layla noted that Ambrose seemed to have aged ten years in the past two days, the lines around his eyes and mouth seemed deeper, more pronounced. His expression was weary and distraught, and the usual twinkle in his eyes was gone, replaced by something darker, more somber.

“Ambrose,” Layla began. “From what I could gather, masons are being recruited as we speak to bring supplies for the rebuilding of the castle and City, is this correct?” The aging Captain nodded as Layla continued. “Good. We have makeshift infirmaries opened and are filled with those who are wounded. All healers have been dispatched there, is this right?” Once again the Captain nodded and turned to the desert woman. “Have you visited the infirmaries yet, Lady?” Sahar nodded and smiled faintly. “I have, Captain. It is so very tragic to see so many in pain, but I did what I could to relieve them, as have the other healers. Many should recover nicely, I think, if but physically.” The magae paused and shook her head sadly. “It grieves me to say that the mental and emotional toil that has taken over the populace is another matter. So many have lost their entire families.” Her hypnotic voice lowered even further. “I saw very few children in the infirmaries, my lady, Captain.” She did not elaborate, and all three shook their heads as the understood the implication of Sahar's words.

“We shall pray to the gods to offer strength to the people in their time of crisis,” Layla murmured softly before continuing on with business. “I want this City rebuilt immediately, Ambrose. I want these people to return to some sense of normalcy as soon as possible.” Her Captain agreed and made mental notes. “I understand the bodies are being cleared as quickly as can be, but it is not quick enough. It is bad enough that disease and pestilence will arise in the City, but to have the living look upon their dead...” Layla trailed off shuddering, a small catch of breath in her throat. Sahar leaned over and reached for her friend's hand, squeezing it to comfort her. The Captain followed suit. “We must be strong my lady, for the people.” Layla's head bobbed up and down and she quickly swallowed any sadness that threaten to erupt. “I know, I know, it's just so...”

“Deplorable,” Sahar offered quietly.

“Yes, deplorable.” Layla gratefully accepted the linen handkerchief offered by her Captain and dabbed at her eyes. “These people have suffered enough,” her voice grew stronger, angrier. “What has become of the vile creatures that were taken captive?” Ambrose cleared his throat. “There were twenty, I believe, or close to it.” Layla arched a dark blonde brow. “What do you mean 'were', Ambrose?”

The Captain of Bariston's guard sighed heavily and slammed his hand upon the table. “I cannot explain it myself,” he growled. “I inquired to one of my men what had become of them when I noticed they were no longer tethered, and he told him that the Captain of the City guard that relocated them.” Layla's brows drew together sharply. “I was informed the Captain of the City guard perished in the battle, Ambrose.”

“He did, my lady.”

Fire burned in both Victoire's and Pennington's eyes, unhidden anger that bubbled to surface, yet it was Sahar's voice that was a calm to their storm. “My lady, Captain,” her words were soft as she spoke. “It would seem that someone has played us for fools and taken the Aliscowi, perhaps to safety, perhaps not.” The desert woman settled back in her chair and tucked a strand of hair the color of pitch behind her ear. “Send a small search party out, perhaps those from Jade, to capture the traitor and the cannibals to return them to the City for their punishment.” Sahar did not say 'execution', for it was not in her nature to destroy creatures of life no matter how vile they are, yet the end result would be nothing less for City's people. They would expect retribution, payment for those whom they lost, no matter how insignificant it may be.

Layla and the Captain nodded. “You are right, my friend.” She smiled to Sahar before turning to Ambrose for confirmation. “It shall be done, my lady.” Layla nodded briskly and returned to matters at hand. “I want a memorial constructed as well, Ambrose, to remember the fallen. I want it to be built in the City center for all to see, and remember.” Both the Captain and the magae murmured their agreement. “The victims who were slain, those who fought bravely, should be honored.” Layla reached for a few sheets of parchment and glanced at them. “Regarding those who fought and survived, I have questioned several who were witnesses and given names of those who went above and beyond the call of duty. I'd like to have them brought before me so that I can officially recognize their service to their City and their people.”

Captain Pennington sat up straighter as he gave his report. “The one known as Madrin Kir, I believe that is his name. He arrived with Elysia and Aurora, lady. From what I understand was wounded severely, but Miles and a few others found him and had him brought to the healers. He is being tended to now, but is unresponsive. As soon as he awakens and is capable of doing so, I shall have him brought to you Lady.” Layla nodded her agreement. “Good. See to it that he has every comfort offered to him. I wish to speak to him as soon as possible.” Layla had plans for this man if he was willing.

The Lady Victoire went down her list of names. “Wish...Star?” She frowned as she eyed Ambrose Pennington. “Is this a true name?” The Captain smiled faintly. “It is according to a few of Alerion's guardsmen. She is fae, my lady, from what I was told. She was recruited by the King, along with a mage called Victor Sage, to join the Alerian Guard.” He paused then, his head tilted to the side. “I heard about this Sage character. Was involved with some nasty business in the City not so long ago. I'm guessing Alerion was offering him a chance to redeem his past crimes, though I could not truly say.” Layla frowned, her brow raised as she glanced once more at the two names. “Indeed. In any case, they have done their part in this battle, and I would speak to them as well to honor their efforts. Are they still in the City?” “From what I heard, yes, Lady. I'll send some of our men to find them and bring them to you.”

Layla's forefinger traveled down the list of names written in her elegant scrawl with black ink. “Redmonts?”The de facto ruler did not bother to conceal her surprise. Ambrose nodded. “Does it surprise you they would join in the fight?” The Captain's lips quirked in a smile. “No, Ambrose, it doesn't. It's just that I did not think any still remained.” The family was well known throughout the lands, and maintained a certain reputation. “Isabella. Quinn. Maxim.” Layla Victoire had heard many a tale regarding the Redmont family, yet never actually met any of them. “Well,” she said as she sat back in her chair. “This should be interesting. Send Miles to summon them, Ambrose.”

Ambrose Pennington cleared his throat. “Err, I shall personally tend to this matter myself, Lady Victoire, for I doubt any of the Redmont clan would come before you with the word of some beck and call soldier. I shall stress the importance of their requested presence.” The Captain paused for thought. “Perhaps a meeting after sunset would be in order.” At Layla's confused look, Ambrose clarified. “Vampires, my lady,” He reminded her, scratching his chin. “I think only two. One was spotted around the castle during daylight hours. I'll confirm it and get back to you.”

“Do that,” Layla said, not unkindly. “Hmm....Deanna DiCorvino. The name is not familiar. Is she still in the vicinity of the castle?” It was Sahar that spoke up then. “My lady, I can answer this for you. This woman you speak of, she is among the dead.” The magae took a sip of water from the glass that was sitting previously untouched before her. “I had spoken to some of the guard that were in the infirmary. They talked of this woman that fought along side their own Captain, who perished as well. She fought against the devil woman, she who raised the army of undead and lost.” Sahar paused a beat before continuing. “It is said she was the mate of the Redmont called Quinn, and the manager of the Oak Barrel Tavern.”

Layla was quiet for some time before glancing at her Captain. “I see. Ambrose, take great care when you call upon the Redmont family, but express that I wish to honor them and acknowledge their bravery. If this woman, this Deanna was one of their own, they are still nursing their loss. I do not wish to offend them with this summons.” Vampires and therianthropes were a tricky bunch and had to be handle carefully as Layla had learned from past experience.

The Lady Victoire sighed then as she looked at the last name. “Verial Akilara?” She looked from Sahar to Ambrose. “And this would be...?” Captain Pennington smiled at his confused lady. “A dragon, more specifically the dragon who attacked the Val'nothe, or so I have heard.” At the alarm that spread on Layla's face, the Captain chuckled. “Fear not lady, you need to speak to a dragon, for he is drow and can change form.” Ambrose Pennington prided himself on his ability to gather intel, but even some information eluded him from time to time. “Where he is now, I cannot say, but I will have him found.”

Layla tapped her finger upon Verial's written name. “What do we know of this drow?” she inquired. Ambrose had the grace to look abashed. “Little my lady, I'm afraid. I couldn't find...”

“My lady, I can answer your question,” the desert woman spoke up again. All eyes turned to Sahar. “You know of this drow/dragon, Sahar?” Layla asked in surprise. The magae nodded and smiled brilliantly. “Indeed. Quite the tale to tell, if rumors are true.” The next twenty minutes were spent discussing the controversial history of Verial Akilara. When all was said and done, a silence so thick you could cut it, lingered heavily until broken finally by Layla.

“How...provocative.” The ruling lady tapped her lips for a few moments before eventually rising from her seat, followed by her council. “I wish to see all seven no later than tomorrow by dusk.” Layla was aware it would take time to round up the unusual group of warriors, not to mention waiting for Madrin's recovery, which Layla had requested Sahar personally see to. The magae healer had incredible talents, and Layla knew that through Sahar, Madrin would heal faster and more complete than with any ordinary healer that was available. Both nodded and bowed their heads to Lady Victoire before departing to tend to their individual tasks.

Layla sat down once more at the table that once belonged to the King, but now was hers...temporarily if all went according to plan. She picked up the parchment that contained the list of names in her neat scrawl, her eyes drawn to one in particular. Layla did not relish the idea of ruling in Alerion's stead, and if truth be known, was saddened to see the King dead. He would have a truly spectacular funeral if Layla had anything to say about it, and she did, yet she knew her place was at Bariston and with her people. She would remain here to oversee the reconstruction of the City and the return of its populace to normal, ever day activities once the mourning period was complete, but eventually would return to her home. Someone else would have to rule in her stead, or at the very least, co-rule with her.

The question that lingered on the mind for the rest of the day: How could she go about convincing this person of taking her place?

"Let me try a hand?"

Cerridwen knelt down beside the woman who was one of many attempting to take care of the many gravely injured citizens of Grand City in the infirmaries that were scattered about the city. This woman was just beginning to clean up the arm of an older gentleman, whose graying hair reminded her of her father. She looked down deeply into the kind man's eyes and calmly slipped her hand beneath the man's arm, cradling his injured elbow with her gentle fingertips.

"You will feel nothing, I swear it."

The woman who had been caring for the gentleman bowed her head to the healer and moved onto the next person in need of her help. The elemental of light focused her full attention to the injury, his forearm was barely attached to his upper arm, musculature and bone very visible and open to the elements. Light began to radiate from her skin, just a gentle glow, the light then began transferring from her fingertips and moving along the skin of the elderly man. The light moved along the torn veins, the fracture lines of his bones, and deep into his exposed muscles. As the light pulses began to travel faster Cerridwen's eyes began to change, the vibrant purple of her irises bleeding into the whites of her eyes until all that could be seen was violet.

This light pulses began combining with each other, joining together to form the bonds that would connect the two sides of the wound. Quickly, the sides began stitching together, until all that remained was the faintest hint of a scar. The light pulses began moving back to travel up her fingertips as they finished their duties in turn. Cerridwen's eyes returned back to their human appearance, only her irises remained the vivid color that hinted to her natural state.

"Now, go home to your family before they begin to worry, but before you go, tell me soldier... Have you seen a therianthrope, goes by the name Redmont?"

"I owe you much, creature of light, you can ask anything of me." He turned, taking her left hand in his briefly and pointing to the King's castle, "I have been told that Lady Victorie has summoned all those who joined in the fight to protect the city. There are guards searching the streets as we speak looking for those few that lead the charge. I believe there you will find your Redmont."

She helped the man stand off the cobbled street before sending him off on his way. There were many more to heal, much more work to do. She could not heal the many that had perished in this event, though their suffering had served as a beacon to her, calling to her over the oceans.

There was something else that had brought her to Eiler, a someone to be exact. She had heard rumors that her brother had been seen with a shifter, a were, and that he had been headed to this city. Cerridwen knew not what she would find in this city, but since arriving she could only hope that the rumors were false and that her brother was nowhere near this city.

The pain radiated from every street corner as she ventured along the littered streets towards the castle that loomed over the horizon of the city. As she came upon the gates that lead to the tower she paused, pulling the deep hood of her cloak up over her features, unsure of how Quinn would react if he saw her here. A crowd had formed outside the gates waiting for answers to come down from the royal quarters, perhaps waiting for a spark of hope, but here she would wait and watch.

A wise man once said, "There is an art, or rather a knack to flying. The knack lies in learning how to throw yourself at the ground and miss." It was something that I was beginning to learn first hand. I hadn't taken the form of a flying beast too many times and I'd fought in that form even fewer times. So to say that I was out of my element would be fair. However, I'm a quick learner.

Wish had set off to heal the dragon, but I couldn't just sit around and wait either. While she tended to the wounded I started picking off the undead. What was it with this place and zombies? The first time we faced them was when Six had left that counter-spell in Heruin for us. I hated the undead. They were smelly, and creepy, and just plain gross. And yes I was like a little girl grossed out by bugs, but I didn't care. I am wizard, hear me scream like a girl and run away.

Of course I couldn't run away this time. I wouldn't leave Wish to this madness. In griffin form I had quite a few options for slicing and dicing the decaying bodies. Of course even though I had a razor sharp beak there was no way I'd be biting down on any of the nasty undead. Admittedly, I took a perverse pleasure in biting down on a few of the cannibals every once in a while.

I could see that Wish had finished with the dragon when a spark of magic and cries from the undead caught my attention. I was about to fly down and pick her up when I saw a large body of wraiths and zombies approaching from a side street. Swooping down, I plowed into the group. I didn't know what else to do. Normally I would have blasted them with magic, but in this form I didn't have that ability.

Or did I? Why didn't I have the ability to do magic? As I thought about the question, I focused my will on the claws on my front legs. They began glowing as the energy built inside. Instead of unleashing the power in a blast, I unleashed my anger over the death of so many on the wraiths. My magic endowed claw tore through them with ease. This was definitely something that I'd have to remember for future use. I was growing rather fond of this form.

Once I'd finally torn through the last of the undead, I took to the skies again noticing the flash of Wish's healing magic leading back to the castle. Of course it had to happen that while I'd worked my way to harbor to help defend and protect the castle everything ended up going down at the castle. I dropped down every once in a while to take out a wraith, or cannibal, or whatever other beasty that seemed to have crawled out of the pits of hell to attack Aleris. As I got closer to the castle however I noticed that things seemed to be thinning out.

When I finally reached the courtyard I could see why. I started shifting back into my normal form even before I'd landed, and dropped a few feet to the earth once I'd become myself again. Before me stood a sad scene. Quinn, heaving over the lifeless form of Deanna. Maxim and some woman I'd never seen where off to the side, while Wish was walking away from the group all together. Knowing her she'd tried to heal Deanna or at least cleaned up a few of the people here who'd been hurt, and was now going to grieve for her..."friend" may have been a strong word, but I could tell she at least had respected the woman. And seeing anyone in as much pain as it was obvious Quinn was in, would take a lot out of anyone.

I walked over and placed a hand on Quinn's shoulder. I didn't say anything. Anything I said would sound hollow and meaningless. My dislike for the woman was well known, and so was her's for me. But that didn't mean that I'd wanted to see her dead. It seemed that the two balanced each other out fairly well. I wasn't sure what the werewolf was like without Deanna, but I was sure it would be interesting to see...from very far away mind you.

Some part of me registered that there were two more dead people fairly close. Well there were a lot of dead people close, but something about these two seemed important. Looking around I saw why. It was Alerion and some woman. Dead, from the looks of it, at each others hand. Well, there went my pardon on the allegations that the damned news paper published. I mean, 'Aww, the King is dead?'. There was no love lost between the two of us either. He'd blackmailed me into joining the guard on the promise of clearing my name. Now he was just another dead ruler.

Slowly removing my hand and bowing my head to pay my respects to the dead woman I backed away and headed after Wish. As I came up closer to her I just wrapped my arms around her waist and pulled her into a tight hug from behind. My lips next to her ear I whispered, "I'm glad you're okay." and I held her while she cried.

Before we left the courtyard, I looked back. Deanna had been wrapped in a sheet, that Quinn was now carrying and the Redmonts (Maxim and the girl more so than Quinn, who just appeared to be standing there still shocked) were talking to the guards that had been around the king, like they were filing a report. The scene was almost enough to make one cry if they were kind hearted. Wiping at my eye because of the dust getting into it (shut up that's my excuse and I'm sticking to it), I shook my head.

It wasn't until the next day while Wish and I were in the infirmary that a guard wearing the colors of Bariston came up to us and cleared his throat. "Excuse me sir, ma'am. I've been asked to escort you to Lady Victoire. You are Wish..." he hesitated over the last name, "Star? and Victor Sage?" he didn't hesitate over mine. He knew who I was and didn't approve of me at all. Of course I gave a shit what he thought about me right now.

"Yeah, that's us. What does the Lady of Bariston want to see us for? Honestly I don't think either of us are up for that trip right now." The guard explained that the Lady was in fact in the castle now. Apparently I'd missed her entrance. Looking at Wish I held her hand to make sure she was able to walk. The fighting and healing had taken a lot out of her.

They say "all's fair in love and war". That's bull shit. There was nothing fair about what had happened. Nothing fair about the lives and love lost in this senseless battle. The only thing that'd been gained was that Elysia now had more souls to deal with and real estate around the grand city just became really cheap. I looked back at Wish glad she was okay, and pitied Quinn. He'd suffered from love and war more than I had today and while I felt guilty for it, I was grateful.

Love. Love changes all the time. The reasons we love someone. What we love about them. How strongly we love them. War. War never changes. No matter how big or how small, it's the same. It's death, loss, and chaos.

Madrin opened his eyes one day later in the early morning hours. He was staring at perhaps the most beautiful women he had ever seen. Her coppery skin and dark hair were well ordered despite the sweat that soaked her clothes. "You're not Elysia, so I must not be dead I was unsure for a moment," She let out a musical laugh as he smiled at her.

She explained to him that she was Sahar personal healer of Layla Victoire ruler of Bariston. They had arrived yesterday at sunrise to aid the people of Grand city. Madrin recalled there was a captain from Bariston that had helped maintain the discipline of the various soldiers from all over Aleris. He was a good man that knew how to make proper use of tactics and resources. If such a man served Layla Victoire she must be worthy of respect or at least politeness.

"Where are the Aliscowri prisoners, did those city guardsman do as I wished or do I need to keep my promise to them." Madrin used every ounce of his composure to not curse them as he spoke, though the anger in his voice was easy to hear. He didn't want Sahar to know he had promised to kill them if they disobeyed him.

When she told him what happened to the captives, he no longer bothered to keep his curses to himself. Those damned soldiers not only let them go but, they were treated very poorly.

"Don't those fools realize that cruelty always causes more harm than good!" The rage in his voice was unmistakable as his voice echoed off the stone walls. The room became very quiet as the inhabitants were scared into silence.

Sahar led him into the hall as he shook with anger. Madrin explained to her that he had seen evidence that the Aliscowri were being controlled by the child mages in their number. He had wanted them tended and questioned to verify if his theory was entirely true. If nothing else he wanted to find out if they could be redeemed from their terrible crimes.

The guardsman would be spared his promise because, some of them had complied with wishes at least and, he wasn't sure which ones hadn't. Not to mention that would be a terrible thing to do to the Grand city guards with their greatly depleted strength. Next Sahar told him of the death of king Alerion at the hands of that soulless women. At least he knew what happened to her so he didn't have to worry about it anymore.

Sahar told Madrin of the current state of the city as she led him to the bathing rooms so that he could change back into his travel clothes. She did tell him that his armor was destroyed beyond recovery. However, there would be a chainmail hauberk brought to him. He could put it on after he changed out of his infirmary clothes her lady wished to see him immediately. She left him alone as she returned to the medical rooms. This was not good Madrin thought to himself as he briefly cleaned up in a washbasin. The king was dead and the current leader of Grand city wanted to see him as soon as possible, he had a bad feeling. Madrin was guided to Alerion's former council chamber where the door guards wearing the sigil of Bariston announced him, and let him pass. The council table had seven other people than himself. The only one he recognized was the blond shifter still in the early stages of grief at the loss of Deanna. However, the blond women sitting at the head of the table matched the description Sahar had given for her liege lady. Madrin gave all of the others a bow of equal respect. Layla Victoire however was given a slightly more respectful one.

"Greetings Lady Victoire I am Madrin Kir it seems you needed to see me." He kept his temper in check as he took an open chair.