Martin and Elizabeth were back to back, trying to protect Frances.

Well, the pair were actually trying to protect a barrel of water that was standing in for Frances, who was waiting some distance away, her wand raised. Beside her were some arrow shafts that weren’t fletched or tipped with heads, two cut-up barrels, a sandbag, and several wooden practice weapons.

“Are you sure you want to do another round of the drill?” Frances asked, hesitant concern in her voice.

“Yup. But let’s make this the last one, Martin,” Elizabeth suggested, her voice echoey in her visored helmet.

Martin nodded and raised his sword, whilst Elizabeth readied her shield.

Frances raised her wand and started to sing. As the notes danced, the arrow shafts rose and began to circle around Martin and Elizabeth.

The pair watched them warily, their ears filled with Frances’s song. Elizabeth, in particular, felt on edge as the arrows moved around them.

Frances’s song pitched up and the arrow-shafts plunged down.

Martin stood his ground and allowed his armor to deflect some shots, adjusting slightly to catch several shafts that tried to sail through to hit the barrel behind him. A wooden practice sword slashing at “Frances” forced him to pivot to block it. Martin then stepped forward and hit the wooden barrel that simulated the wielder of the weapon.

Elizabeth didn’t move, giving Martin his space, but continued to bounce on the balls of her feet, eyes flicking between more arrow shafts and a floating barrel with a wooden spear at its side. The spear came at her first, and she raised her shield to block it. She swung at the barrel with her mace, but it danced backward. Elizabeth fought the urge to pursue and stood her ground.

Her restraint was immediately rewarded as the arrow shafts plunged toward the barrel she was protecting. Elizabeth sidestepped, rising her shield to catch the arrows. The spear-wielding barrel came at her again. Elizabeth, hop-stepped to better direct herself, and slammed the boss of her shield into the barrel, before hitting it with her mace.

Martin heard the crack of wood and the corner of his eye saw splinters flying through the air. Grinning, he heard a noise to his right, turned, and got hit by a sandbag. The knight staggered and grabbing his dagger, plunged it into the sandbag with practiced ease. Still, the weight of the bag sent him tumbling onto his back.

“Elizabeth! Need backup!” he yelled as he threw the sandbag off him and staggered up.

Hearing her friend, Elizabeth raced over to cover Martin’s position, just in time to block a final hail of arrows with her shield.

The singing stopped and the two stood, panting.

“Good job,” said Frances. She reached over to where their water skins were and tossed them to her friends.

“Thanks, Frances,” Elizabeth yanked her helmet off and sank into the blessedly soft grass, pouring water over her face. She was joined by Martin, whose hair was plastered to his head by sweat. Frances, a little more sedately, sat next to them, drawing her knees up under her arms. For the next few minutes, the three quietly drank from their water skins.

“So, what are we going to do about Darius’s orders about the fae-kin?” Martin asked in a low voice.

Frances bit down the urge to flinch at the question and held her tongue.

“Well, save the fae-kin, but…” Elizabeth bit her lip. “I don’t know much about how Durannon works or much about fighting. Would the fae-kin even want us to help them?”

“Our family’s vassals traded with the fae-kin on the borders for years before the war. They are more similar to us than one might realize.” Martin glanced at his two friends. “What have you learned about them and the war’s cause?”

Elizabeth grimaced. “Honestly, our instructors have focused on teaching us how to fight and… kill fae-kin. They taught us a bit about how the fae-kin is governed, but not much about their families and lives.”

Frances blinked feeling a chill run up her skin. She understood why her classmates were being trained in this manner. They needed her classmates to see the fae-kin as their enemy and if her classmates saw they had no family that would make their jobs easier. Still, the thought turned her stomach.

This was especially true since after she and Edana had returned from Vertingen, her Master had made it a point to teach her about why the war started and the societies and cultures of the different fae-kin in the Kingdom of Alavaria.

“Frances?” Martin asked.

Frances blinked and realized that Martin had actually directed his question at her as well.

“Oh, sorry. Um. Master Edana’s been teaching me quite a bit about Alavaria’s culture and society, though, she’s just starting on the causes of the war. She’s just explained to me why the Demon King is called a Demon King, even if he’s not actually a demon.”

“Wait, the Demon King isn’t a demon?” Elizabeth asked, eyes wide.

“No. King Thorgoth is a Troll of the Greyhammer dynasty. The reason why Alavarian rulers are titled “Demons” is that the first King of Alavaria was of the demon race. They’re extinct now. All that’s left of the demons are some artifacts and the demon language, which are the words of power that some mages use to invoke magic,” Frances explained.

Elizabeth rubbed her temples. “Wait… so if… if he’s not a demon, as in, literal monster demon, and if the monsters—”

“Fae-kin,” Martin corrected.

“Alavari,” Frances said at the same time.

The two glanced at each other. “The technical term is fae-kin,” said Martin.

“They call themselves Alavari,” Frances pointed out.

“Hmm, okay, Alavari then,” said Martin, nodding.

Elizabeth shook her head. “Sorry, Alavari. Why did they decide to go to war with humans?”

Martin scratched his head. “Now that we’re not entirely sure. Thorgoth said something about resolving old injustices in his declaration of war and before we knew it, we had armies across our borders. Still, Darius is giving the army permission to kill children.”

“But they wouldn’t do that, would they?” Elizabeth asked.

“They would. Post-battle rage is… dangerous,” said Frances, quietly.

“Exactly, we need to stop them somehow,” added Martin.

“Yeah, well, we’re with the reserves to take the gate, right, why don’t we, once we take it, start getting the innocent to a safe place?” Elizabeth asked.

Frances froze. There were eager, hopeful smiles on Elizabeth and Martin’s faces. She knew her friends wanted to help but Frances was all too aware that what they wanted to was not only dangerous, but it went against Earl Darius’s wishes. Her friends could get in serious trouble for this.

“Um, Martin, Elizabeth, perhaps we should think about what we should, rather than want to do?” Frances asked.

Martin’s head whipped around and he gave Frances a look that made her avert her gaze.

Elizabeth, on the other hand, found the fear in Frances’s voice to be uncharacteristic of her. She knew the other girl was kind and willing to help, but fearful?

“Frances? Is there something wrong? You seem scared,” Elizabeth said.

Frances looked up and found that while Martin was frowning at her, Elizabeth’s features reflected the concern in her voice.

“Well, no… I’m fine. I just thought that well, we’re three people trying to save an entire town of fae-kin that are hostile to us. I’m not sure if we can do that,” Frances stammered.

“So you’re saying we shouldn’t?” Martin demanded her, his tone sharp and accusing.

“She’s not saying that, Martin. Chill—I mean, calm down,” Elizabeth said, sitting up.

“How can I stay calm? Darius has essentially looked the other way and told our army they can slaughter innocents! Don’t you understand? We’re talking about burned bodies of orc children, raped harpy women, and Amura and Rathron know how many other atrocities!”

Elizabeth stared at Martin, eyes wide open. Frances, on the other hand, realized something.

“Martin, um, have you seen something like this happen before?” Frances asked, seeing the fear in Martin’s clenched and shaking fists and set jaw. All those signs were all too familiar to her.

Martin swallowed and nodded. “Yes. There was a small village we had captured. I was sent as the reinforcing group, so I only saw the aftermath, but what I saw… it was indescribable.” Haunted eyes stared back at Frances and Elizabeth. “I can’t let something like that happen again.”

“We won’t then, right, Frances?” Elizabeth asked.

Frances’s heart sank at the hope in Elizabeth’s eyes, and the determined resolve in Martin’s. She wished she had her friends’ naivety and ignorance. She wished that she wasn’t so afraid of simply doing the right thing, even if it was thoroughly impossible.

“I… I want to help. If we see anybody attacking Alavari civilians, I will try to protect them, but we can’t stop the army, or save the entire town. It’s too dangerous,” Frances said. Desperation nearly choked at her words, but she had to say them, had to try to persuade her friends not to do something so dangerous.

“Fae-kin children will die if we don’t do something!” Martin bellowed.

“But we’re going to be hurt if we try to save the entire town, and go against the will of our superior,” Frances insisted, fear of Martin being hurt again when she could prevent it, outweighed her desire to stay quiet.

“Martin, please, calm down,” Elizabeth said, giving him a hard elbow. Martin grimaced but breathed deeply, whilst Elizabeth shuffled closer to the shorter girl.

“Frances, you’re worried, yeah, I’m worried too, but we need to at least try. Besides, what’s the worst that could happen?” Elizabeth asked, smiling.

“Martin dies and we get sent home,” Frances stated, and immediately winced. “I’m sorry, I… I just… I can’t think of what we can do safely. If we try to prevent any atrocities, we will enrage Earl Darius and the fae-kin might try to kill us anyway, but I don’t want this to happen.”

Martin took a deep breath and exhaled, slowly. In a much calmer, and thoughtful voice, he said, “I don’t want to die either, Frances, but I will do the right thing and take whatever precautions possible. As for getting in trouble, my family is influential enough to protect me. As for you and Elizabeth, not counting your Master’s influence, you’re Otherworlder heroes. Darius won’t try to get you two in trouble for defying him.”

Elizabeth nodded. “As for dying, well, we can’t die, Frances. We just get sent home.” She winced at that. “I mean, I don’t want to go home. I don’t want to give up on trying to help the people here, but we still have a life to go back to and at least we’ll be back with our families. ”

Elizabeth’s voice trailed off as she took in her friend. Frances’s eyes were flared open and her shoulders were stiff. Her arms were trembling slightly and from the way she seemed braced, it looked like she was steeling herself.

“Frances? Are you alright?” Elizabeth asked. Martin, frustration forgotten, frowned in concern.

“I’m fine. I’m fine.” Frances grabbed her hand, trying to stop herself from hugging herself, but her arms slowly crossed themselves.

Elizabeth reached out to Frances. “Is it something I said? I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to—”

“It’s not your fault. I…” Frances swallowed. “I’m sorry, I know I’m weird. It’s just…I…”

“Frances, you don’t have to tell us if you don’t want to,” Martin said firmly. “We may have disagreements, but just because we’re friends, doesn’t mean you need to tell us everything.”

Frances blinked. “Oh.”

“You haven’t had many friends before, right?” Martin asked in a kind voice.

“No. I… Elizabeth, I think you know this, but I was… quite an odd person at school,” said Frances’s eyes averted.

“Nah. I mean, we thought you were weird, but I think the only reason we thought that was because of you…” Elizabeth frowned. She couldn’t remember why she and the others thought Frances was weird, apart from the rumours she heard about her, her old clothing, and the fact she didn’t seem to have any friends. “... hold on, do you know why so many people thought you were weird? Because you’re not weird. Just… got a few quirks.”

Frances looked torn between snorting and groaning. “I think Leila and Jessica spread rumours about me. It didn’t help that I was a bit weird, didn’t go out and make friends. I was too scared people would notice my br—”

Suddenly, Frances clamped her hands to her mouth, horror spreading across her face. Both Martin and Elizabeth frowned at that, unsure why their friend seemed to react that way.

“Sorry, can we talk about something else? W—why don’t we keep thinking of a plan to save as many fae-kin as possible, right?” Frances pleaded.

Martin arched an eyebrow but nodded. “As I said, you don’t have to tell us everything.”

“But if you do want to, we’re here for you, Frances,” Elizabeth said. She patted Frances’s shoulder noticing that her friend instinctively flinched at that. Still, she smiled, if weakly.

“Thank you.”

The three friends sat quietly together, stretching tired muscles out, or sipping from their flasks of water.

Frances didn’t stop thinking about the problem, though. She wanted to help Martin and Elizabeth fulfill their wish, which she agreed with. She just didn’t know how she could do it successfully.

That was when one of Earl Forowena’s lessons about siegecraft came back to her. The earl had taught her that most Alavari and humans would surrender if they had no option to defend.

A plan—no, an idea came together quickly. It wasn’t something she was certain of, but it was enough to ask her friends about it.

Frances pursed her lips. “There is something I was thinking about if you wanted to save as many fae-kin as possible.”

Martin, who’d just gotten up to go for his tent, spun around, “What is it?” he demanded.

Frances took a deep breath. “I don’t think you’re going to like the idea.”

“Well go on, don’t keep us in suspense,” Elizabeth urged.

Frances told her friends what she had in mind. She was right. They didn’t like the idea, but after much discussion, they soon realized that while the idea could be improved, they probably didn’t have any other choice.