The rain hadn’t let up, day after day of continual heavy drizzle. Some of the town had needed reinforcement, or been abandoned, as the walls started to tilt and break, the ground washing away. The fair had been packed away, but those present had nowhere else to go, not wanting to brave the roads. Stathis had let them into the castle, more rooms being cleared, holes being knocked through a few walls to provide a channel for seeping water to escape from. At least continual repairwork gave people something to do, although hearing the walls creak and groan whenever the ground shifted was unnerving.

‘You there! Young lady, I require assistance.’

Stathis sighed. Even taking watch on the highest tower during a torrential rainstorm obviously wasn’t enough for protection from the indefatigable Master Gervint, perpetual complainer and irritant. She turned, not bothering to fake a smile. ‘What is it this time, Master Gervint?’

‘My scrolls and tomes require further protection! This ceaseless rain is seeping through any protection I can create. I demand the key to the vault, so that I can ensure their safety at all times.’ His fabulous robes were looking increasingly bedraggled, as their enchantments were starting to fail in the face of the continual downpour, the fine fabrics and bright colours now definitely the worse for wear.

‘I really don’t know what you want me to do. I’m not giving you the key to the vault, and that’s the driest place here, other than the catacombs.’

His beard quivered with indignation. ‘My items are worth far more than whatever paltry treasure this place keeps locked away. My magical knowledge is all-but incalculable in value. Not that I would expect a simple fighter to understand.’

‘Well, then you should provide better protection yourself. I’m sorry that your magical sanctum spell doesn’t keep out the weather very well, but I really don’t see what you expect me to do about it. And you’re not getting the key to the vault.’ Fortunately, the door seemed to be enchanted against lockpicking spells, or Gervint had enough scruples not to break in himself. ‘Everyone is suffering from this – I appreciate your concerns, but unless you can do something about the weather, then nothing is going to change.’

He harrumphed, beard-beads clicking together. ‘Well, at the least, if you could do something about that wretched apprentice of Hakara’s? She is quite demanding, wanting spell scrolls all the time. I had to part with one of my most treasured items, simply to get rid of her. Entirely unique, and now in the possession of that tarted-up wench, simply to draw her attentions away for a time.’

‘You didn’t have to do that. What’s she been bothering you with, anyway?’

‘Oh, demands for arcane knowledge. Not that she has any comprehension of such things, but she appears to have an insatiable thirst. To silence her prattling, I gave her a scroll of the Unreadable Tongue. Ancient beyond mortal reckoning, and now in the possession of a prattling, preening idiot.’

‘How long ago was this?’ A faint bubble of alarm started to rise in Stathis’ mind.

‘Oh, some few hours. I told her that it was an advanced magical theory, only accessible to the most advanced of wizards. I daresay struggling with that will keep her busy for some time. After all, I doubt she has the wit to recognise it for the Unreadable Tongue.’

‘This does seem to be entirely your own fault. If you don’t want her money, don’t sell things to her. You could just hide in your extra-dimensional hole if you don’t want to talk to her.’

He swelled up indignantly, face reddening, the effect slightly undercut by the wind and rain, slicking his hair into crazy angles. ‘That is not acceptable - thanks to her, I have lost one of my most treasured items!’

‘You sold it to her. She didn’t force you. Deal with it. Once she’s read it, you can probably buy it back.’

‘It’s the Unreadable Tongue, she can’t read it. I sincerely hope your battle-lore is more advanced than your academic knowledge, or we are likely doomed.’ He snorted in disgust, attempting a snappy turn and exit, but almost tripped and fell, instead settling for giving her a dirty glare, before squishing off in a mess of sodden robes.

Stathis sighed. People generally were staying well-behaved and able to organise themselves, with most of her tasks being organising people to help shift stuff between houses, trying to keep the most fragile items out of the rain, but Gervint was just a nuisance.

‘Oooo, stroppy mage-dude!’ Semari’s voice came from somewhere nearby, wind making direction hard to tell. Stathis looked around, until a hand appeared over the battlements as Semari hauled herself up, taking a seat on the stone, uncaring of the moisture soaking her clothing. Despite the weather, she was dressed the same as normal, in a battered tunic and worn trousers, her bracer snapping and sparking as the rain struck it.

‘Do you have to clamber around all the time? I’m worried you’re going to slip.’

‘Nah, I’ll be fine. And this weather just makes me want to do stuff.’ There was a flash of light and then the rumble of thunder, Semari leaning back over the gap and closing her eyes, a relaxed grin covering her face. ‘It’s pretty cool. Although the rain is a bit soggy and shit, I guess.’

‘Try not to die, please? I might need you to absorb lightning from the witch when she finally attacks.’ Stathis squinted. Had that been a flash of green amidst the grey, or just her imagination?

‘Hey, if we had a catapult, you could put me in that, and launch me at her. That would be pretty cool. Flying chokeslam!’ She swung her arm, demonstrating.

‘We don’t have a catapult. And she would probably fly away. I appreciate the enthusiasm, but it’s more likely to be trying to lure her in, and then you jump down on her. She probably won’t be able to cast much if you’re trying to rip her arms off.’

‘It was a phase! But, yeah, that sounds like a plan.’ She twisted, leaning dangerously far back, only her legs hooked over the stone keeping her from falling. ‘Parth’s being, like, elfy again. She’s in one of the basement rooms, doing weird stuff, got plants growing everywhere. Tasty berries though.’

Stathis squinted again. That was definitely something there, dark even against the slate-grey sky. ‘Hey, can you see something over there?’

Semari was now completely upside-down on the wall, legs hooked over. ‘Yeah, think so. Looks like stuff flying towards us.’ With a grunt, she pulled herself back upwards, somersaulting to her feet. ‘Looks like shit’s finally kicking off! Let’s hope it’s something fun.’

Stathis turned and struck the warning bell, trying to make it loud enough to be heard over the rain. The specks were getting closer, starting to form into flying shapes. Some of the guards appeared, stepping out into the rain, hurriedly equipping themselves for combat. Brand was with them, already readying an arrow, making sure the others were fully prepared. Hakara appeared on an opposite battlement, alongside Parth.

The shapes got closer – half were roughly humanoid, another flock of harpies. Along with them were giant eagles, but with misshapen heads, like those of deer, spiked horns and antlers protruding at chaotic angles. Stathis glanced down over the town – everyone was heading for the castle, managing an orderly retreat into hopeful safety and protection.

‘Ready arrows!’ It would have been nice to have more than a dozen archers, but anything to blunt their forces would help. She drew and nocked herself, trying to gauge the size of the flock – it looked smaller than the one they’d fought while travelling, but here fighting them would be harder, as they were already in the air.

An arrow arced towards the enemies, falling far short. ‘Hold fire, they’re not in range yet!’ Brand shouted before Stathis could. The wait seemed far longer than it should be, her heart starting to race, the creatures getting closer and closer – the mutant eagle-creatures were impressively large, wingspan easily the height of a man, if not larger. Lightning shattered the sky, before thunder rumbled forth.

‘Ready, ready, wait for it… fire!’ Stathis gave the order as they came into range, arrows snapping forth. At this range, it was less precision shooting and more about rate of fire, trying to put enough arrows into the air to cause damage. She didn’t bother to particularly aim, or even see if she had hit anything, just firing as fast as she could. Parth’s hands flickered, a steady thrum of arrows streaming forth, likely doing more damage than everyone else combined.

The flock split, harpies flying upwards, as their song started to become audible over the storm. Several of the nearby guards stopped, going slackjawed for a moment until Stathis yelled at them, snapping them out of the hypnotic trance. Those further away were less fortunate, stumbling around in a daze, Hakara amongst them.

Then the other monsters attacked, dropping from the sky and trying to grab victims, plucking them from the narrow battlement, or simply knocking them off. Stathis dropped her bow and tried to slash at one as it dove past, unable to make an attack before it was out of range. One squawked and smashed to the ground, an arrow embedded in each eye, where it writhed and twisted, before those below fell upon it, killing it. A mote of fire shot into the sky and exploded into a fireball, heat washing through the air, as two more harpies fell to the ground, trailing smoke as they fell. Gervint was stood on a balcony, blowing smoke from his fingertips. Well, at least he was useful for something.

Several of the harpies had taken up position on top of a tower, using it to shield themselves from attackers, even as their song continued to distract the defenders. With a blur of movement, Semari shot past, leaping up towards them, snapping the wing of one before dealing with others. Their winged arms were ill-suited to defence, Semari snapping limbs with ease. Then Stathis had to defend herself, slamming herself forward as one of the eagle-creatures plunged towards her, fanged maw snapping and snarling, talons trying to rip her apart. She barely blocked in time, but the sheer mass of the thing pushed her backwards, even as she sliced and cut at it, blade cutting through flesh and bone.

Her foot slid over the edge, space yawning behind her. She threw herself forward as best she could, bashing with her shield to try and open up some space, just barely able to regain her footing, even as another guard was less fortunate, falling out of sight with a scream. Before the thing could take off, she attacked, quickly dispatching it, stepping over the body. She glanced down, seeing a group of townsfolk beneath, making it too dangerous to push the body down. Brand and a guard had managed to pin another down, and she helped them, managing to wound it before it whirled around with claws and teeth, driving them back and leaping off the roof, taking to the air.

And then they left, the creatures taking to the air and flying away, Parth’s arrows claiming a few more as they made their escape, the rain still pouring down. Ice started to fall, catching a straggling harpy, but they were soon out of range. As soon as they were gone, it was time to assess the damage – Stathis knelt to check on a wounded guardsman, their leg bent and crooked, blood oozing down from their forehead. She gently took his head in her hands, letting sunlight well up through her, expending her power – the flow of blood stopped, and his eyelids started to flutter, as Stathis clicked her fingers in front of his face, checking for a reaction. He wasn’t fully healed, but he’d be limping rather than crippled, and with lightning cracking still, another stray burst of light would hopefully go unnoticed.

Downstairs, those with medical training had claimed the hall, tables being used to lay down the injured, hot water and cloth ready at hand. Those dazed by the harpy’s song had been dazed, but were largely uninjured, but those attacked by the monstrous eagles were far worse off. Those pushed off the battlements were most heavily injured, limbs, ribs and skulls broken by the fall. Parth was already there, tending to the less-injured, wrapping them in strange-smelling bandages, the cloth soaked in some herbal mixture.

One person gibbered and flailed, blood oozing from their skull, trying to speak, their face a rictus of pain. They were being held down by townsfolk, unsure how to proceed. Stathis picked up an empty bottle that had rolled into the corner, making a play of holding it over their mouth as she touched their head, letting the warmth of sunlight gleam over their skin, the crack in their head scabbing over. Their body went limp, a relaxed smile coming over their face. Stathis pretended to pour the bottle into their mouth, then put it aside. ‘They should be fine now, once they’ve rested.’

One of them gave Stathis an impulsive hug. ‘Thank you, thank you! That healing potion saved his life!’

‘Don’t worry about it. But I need to check on everyone else – just make sure that he doesn’t roll off the table or anything.’

She moved amongst the others, doing what she could to take the edge off pain, keeping people from death’s door, ignoring those with lesser wounds. More people trickled in, seeking company, slumping against the wall and gazing into the middle distance, or checking their friends and family were still alive.

When the immediate chaos had died down, Stathis moved to the top of the hall, finding Tunera, currently helping ferry bandages around. ‘You need to be in charge now. Be loud and obvious, show that someone is doing something.’

Tunera stumbled. ‘What? What am I meant to do?’ She looked around, taking in the injured, the dazed on-lookers.

‘Show them you care. They’re doing well, but they’re confused and scared. We won, but there’s going to be more attacks. It sucks, but you’re the leader now, or at least have the shiny spear. So show them that you’re here, that you care, and that you have a plan.’

‘But I don’t have a plan!’ She looked like she was about to cry, Stathis grasping her shoulder.

‘Trust me, “don’t die” is about the best we’re going to get. But they don’t need details, they need to know that someone is doing something. And that’s you. Sound brave and confident, tell them they’re doing great, and make it sound like you’re confident we’ll win.’

‘But I’m not!’

‘Doesn’t matter. If you break, so do they. So you need to hold together, for everyone’s sake. Sorry.’ She gave Tunera’s shoulder a hopefully comforting squeeze. ‘This is what being in charge means. You take the hits and keep going, for those that would otherwise stop.’

Before Tunera could start doubting herself further, Stathis turned and struck a decorative shield, the metal-on-metal crash drowning out the background hubbub and chatter, silencing it for a moment. ‘Lady Tunera Verinal would like to stay something.’ It was a little unfair, but they needed something to rally around, and Tunera needed to show herself.

Stathis stood to the side, making Tunera the focus of attention, as she whispered into her ear. ‘What you say matters less than how you say it. Sound brave and confident, and that should work.’

Tunera took a deep breath and stepped forward, speaking a word, and then realising she had to raise her voice to be heard. ‘Thank you, everyone. Today we’ve won a great victory against cruel attackers, who tried to kill us. But we’ve pushed them back and held them off.’ She raised her spear into the air, the tip gleaming into the firelight. ‘We will do the same to anyone else that attacks us, be they harpy or witch! Guards, keep watch on the skies so that we may be warned of any more raids. Everyone else, prepare more arrows. Now, I will talk to my advisors, so that we may confer.’ She shook the spear again, a few ragged cheers spreading amongst the crowd, then made a hasty stride towards a side-chamber, Stathis following.

As soon as she was out of view, she started to take deep breaths, looking about to panic, Stathis trying to calm her down. ‘Good job. Could do with being a little more forceful, but you did well. You got the number of fancy words about right. And ordering the bodies of the dead monsters burnt is a good idea, that always shows people they’ve won.’ She patted her on the shoulder again. ‘You’re doing great. How did you do in the fight?’ She looked away. ‘Got scared?’

‘No! No, I didn’t. But…’ Her knuckles tightened around the spear.

‘It’s scary, isn’t it? Everything moving and chaotic and messy and you’ve no idea what’s going on.’

‘How do you manage? When everything is so important and any decision might be wrong and get people hurt. It’s terrifying.’ She drew up on herself.

Stathis let out a deep breath, leaning against the wall. ‘You do what you can. Fight what you can, help where you can, try and keep shit together. And try not to fuck it up. It gets better, sort of. And it sucks, but you need to keep it together, for everyone else out there. They’ll fight better if they think you’ve got a handle on this all.’ Tunera stood up a little straighter, smacking the haft of her spear against the ground, trying to psyche herself up. ‘That’s the spirit. Be the strength for those without it, the light for those in the dark, and keep them fighting. Without that, there’s no hope of winning. It’s hard, but just think of those you’re fighting for, I guess. How’s the quote go? “Duty is heaver than a mountain, death lighter than a feather”, something like that?’

Tunera shivered. ‘I don’t want to die!’

‘Trust me, neither do I. It’s hard, and I doubt it ever gets easier, but you can’t ever put the burden down. These people are your responsibility now. Make sure you earn their loyalty.’

She sniffed, wiping her nose. ‘Thanks. That was actually helpful. I’ll go get those bodies burnt.’

‘Take some feathers as trophies or something. You’ve earnt that much. And remember to eat and drink – if you pass out, it’ll cause a lot of problems.’

She huffed, rolling her eyes, but still looked a little more confident than she had before as she left. Stathis waited, not wanting to spoil her moment, slipping back into the hall when everyone’s attention was diverted.