--- Lowan

When he was sure the enemy clans were completely beaten and scattered beyond the Rien, Lowan sent several messengers to deliver the news of victory. Not only to Sinen but even to the surrounding lands, also bringing word of his sister’s betrayal.

Since the moment the commander had heard about Charsa's sudden retreat, he had been looking forward to the moment he could hang that backstabber. Leanna's orders or not, his disgraceful action was the only reason why hundreds of soldiers had died.

"Our scouts followed the trail of your sister's men, and we know for sure that they just went back to Sinen," reported Palander. "I lost many good boys in that forest, but I'll be by your side when we force our way into the castle and kill that witch. I swear."

Lowan marched back and forth inside his pavilion, trying to figure out a plan.

"Are you sure this is the right thing to do?" he asked, dropping on his chair. "I feel hesitant about storming the castle of my own family. To think that I had swore to protect this land..."

"Nonsense," replied his friend. "Nobody could have foreseen something like that, not even you. You saw the faces of the republicans. I bet they feel even more betrayed than we do."

"What about the people of Sinen?" wondered the commander. "Are they safe?"

"Relax, Charsa can't do a thing with our army this close. I heard they wait for your return."

"My return? Really?"

"Why wouldn't they? The rightful count comes back from his victory and takes the throne away from a treacherous tyrant? It almost seems like a fable. Put a little more faith in yourself, Lowan."

Palander stood and left the tent, leaving the commander alone with his thoughts. The war was won, it was true, but the people he wanted to protect were still in danger.

When Lowan was young, his father used to say he was soft. The boy despised him because he thought that rulers should have been fair and just. Leanna mocked him, back then. She had told him that a true Lord had the power to do whatever he wanted, and it was his right to choose if his subjects would live or die.

And now, the tide is changing. My father is dead and there's nobody who remembers him fondly. My sister's name will always be tainted... What about me? Do I really want to become a part of this chain?

In all due sincerity, Lowan himself didn't think himself able to change things. No matter what happened, he still was a part of the family.

Still, it's my responsibility to clear this mess up.

It was just a matter of time before the entire Republic would have known of Leanna's plan. She would have lost every drop of political and military aid she had worked all those years to obtain, and even the Senate would have seen her as an enemy at that point. In the eyes of the whole country, the commander already knew that he was supposed to take her place.

***

--- Tolwin

Five days after the battle, Tolwin led a convoy of wagons that carried the last wounded people away from Mublas. The village wasn't that far from the Rien and had plenty of space to shelter those in need, but many soldiers were in desperate need of a proper bed to recover. At the priest's side sat Roric, back on his feet with surprising speed. That would have been pretty suspicious for anyone who didn't possess Tolwin's experience, yet the old man had already a vague idea of what they were dealing with.

All the people who were still able to fight had departed earlier that day, following the commander to Sinen. Leanna's betrayal had been taken so badly among the republicans that all the other nobles had granted their support to Lowan once again, in order to claim the head of the treacherous countess and have the real heir claim his seat at the castle. The priest, however, still wasn't sure about the resolve of the future count.

He and Roric traveled for a couple of days, without any rush, but despite all things the boy didn't speak much.

"You are worried, aren't you?" asked Tolwin. "You have never been this quiet before."

His young assistant shook his head, glancing down to his right hand.

"It's not like I'm worried, just... I need to know, Tolwin," he replied. "Is it true that, when you have certain powers, the Mages will come and take you away?"

The Mages. How can I blame him for his ignorance? Those people have always kept a lot of secrets... It's normal that a young fellow, who has probably heard a couple of things by chance, would be fearing for his freedom by now.

"Hmm," hummed back the priest, trying to sound reassuring. "It depends, you know. The Circle, their organization, has agents everywhere, even here in the Republic, but all they do is keeping arcane magic under control. Nothing else."

"Arc... What?" inquired the boy, clearly puzzled. "Wait, I thought your powers were magic, too."

Tolwin couldn't help but smile, and cleared his throat.

"Well, it seems that I'll have to make some explanations. Consider it a taste of what you'll learn in the future, perhaps."

"Let's hear it."

"So, most people usually refer to as magic when they see any kind of special ability, and tend to be quite fearful and superstitious towards anything that transcends common knowledge... But they don't know where it actually comes from. Every form of supernatural power is fueled by our spirit, in fact, our own human soul. And there are differences between what you would call magic."

"What are Mages, then?"

"Certain individuals are born with an innate gift. Their very essence is made of an unstable energy, the Arcane, extremely hard to grasp and wield because of how dangerous it is," explained the man. "But, at the same time, so powerful and malleable that you can even shape it into a solid object if you have the right training. That's the power of the Mages, and the Circle ensures that nobody misuses it. Not all, however, are within its reach. The Barbarians, for example, have shamans that long ago invented a way to command nature itself. Just by possessing the Arcane, a person wouldn't be completely human anymore."

Roric gasped, and looked down.

"Back in my village, we had this legend," he said. "About a wind that swept the land, called the Drukh. Was that really something the Barbarians had brought on us, after all?"

"I can't give you a firm answer, my boy," answered Tolwin. "But keep this in mind. Every legend, even the craziest one, is built on a breadcrumb of truth. I don't know if your ancestors actually angered a powerful shaman, but it's definitely in the realm of possible. Maybe a real Mage could tell you more."

The boy went silent once again, letting him continue.

"The power we priests use, the one you've already witnessed, is not the Arcane. It's commonly known as the Light."

"What's the difference?"

"The Light is a spiritual aura. Something everyone possesses, in theory. Most people simply aren't aware of it, others let it fade because of the lack of exercise... Or through destructive thoughts and deeds. This power is said to be a gift of the Makers, the ancestral deities who are said to be responsible for the creation of our Universe. By rejecting their order and embracing the chaos, the soul is brought to the darkness, to the point that the Light itself abandons it."

Even if there are some who will warp this concept of order... And make it possibly worse than chaos.

The priest pushed away that thought and moved on.

"People who have a deep connection with their spirit can ask to be trained by my order, within the golden walls of the Holy City. Becoming a cleric is an act of faith and courage, for it is necessary to devote an entire life to spread the message of the Makers and assist those in need. Every initiate is taught to tap into the Light and project it outside to heal wounds, protect from harm and cleanse the evil. A strict training, focused on keeping the mind clear from the temptation of chaos, awaits those who join the order because it's from their thoughts that the Light draws its purity. There were some priests, whose lives have become legends, people who became so powerful that they could do actual miracles. Summoning the spirits of men and bringing them back to life, living on for a thousand years without aging... Predicting the future, even."

"What am I, then?" whined Roric, who was noticeably getting confused by all that stuff. "The lightning i made was-"

"Keep it down," ordered Tolwin. "The Arcane could be shaped into that, as well. The only problem is that it would require many years of studies and the effects... Well, there was still a corpse to be talked of."

The boy nodded, but insisted. "Are you saying that I'm a priest, like you?"

"No, not really," replied the old man. "There is another scenario, but until I confirm it you'll need to be patient. That's not something you want to speak of in broad daylight."

Roric seemed depressed, but the priest was concerned about his safety and letting him know would have just put him in danger at that point.

"Just remember what I told you, for now," he said. "Trust me, it's better that your little exploit in the battle remains an inexplicable incident."

***

A couple of hours later, Sinen came into view. They reached the town at sunset.

The soldiers were about ready for the last assault and Tolwin immediately spotted Lowan among their ranks, a serious expression on his face. He decided to let Roric go for the moment and reach his friend, who nodded back and led the way to an alley where they could talk freely.

"Never seen you so tense before," stated the priest. "Do you need any word of advice?"

"If only this could be resolved with words, Tolwin... Besieging the castle of my ancestors wasn't exactly the way I pictured the end of this story in my mind," replied the commander. "But I suppose there's no other way, now that we've come to this."

He sighed, suddenly looking very sad.

"What I fear above everything else, what keeps me awake at night isn't Leanna," went on Lowan. "It's what will happen next. I know I can't afford to leave Sinen to anyone I don't trust, but at the same time I don't know if I'm ready to take the place of my father."

The older man put a hand on his shoulder.

"It doesn't matter," he said. "You have already proven yourself worthy many times, Lowan. Your allies, your friends, your men and your people are all here, waiting for you to lead the way. You can't let them down."

"But what if I become-"

"You can do it. I know you'll make the right choice."

Tolwin's point seemed to have a good effect over his friend, who took a deep breath.

"I'm not my father, as you've said many times. I won't make the same mistakes. Let's do this."

Lit by the last rays of sun the two walked among the troops, assembled right in the center of the town. The officers were ready, and even rams had been brought. It was already known that inside the castle there weren't many enemies, since only a part of Charsa's men had chosen to follow his orders and the rest had returned with the main army, to punish their former commander and his mistress. A criminal like him couldn't possibly have foreseen a similar situation, for he was a man without any roots and the soldiers of Sinen didn't fight for money like him. A lot of them had lands and families to protect, and that was why Leanna's last desperate strategy was fundamentally flawed.

Tolwin watched from afar, following the commander with his eyes as he stepped in front of his warriors and raised the right arm, to get their attention.

"Men! Listen to me!" he shouted. "This will be the final step of this two-year long war. The castle of Sinen, the place many of us call home, is the last obstacle on our way... And we'll take it back."

The army roared in approval.

"Our priorities are the soldiers of the traitor, Charsa. Follow your officers and hunt down those rats! Without them, the countess will be powerless."

The men roared once again, and many voices cheered for Leanna's imminent death.

"Hang the witch!"

"Put her head on a pike!"

"No!" rebuked Lowan. "I won't allow any summary justice. I'm taking care of her on my own."

From his spot, Tolwin hoped for the best.

Don't let emotions hold your horses, Lowan... Strike her down, now that you have the chance. Become the count you should have always been. Makers, guide him.

A couple of minutes later, right before the priest's gaze, the siege of Sinen began.