Thomas and Elisa rub their wrists as they watch me with nervous expressions. The other three prisoners seem a bit lost but relieved that they were freed despite their wariness towards me.

“What happened?” Elisa asks with tense traits.

“You won.” I tell them. “Claywood is dead and most of Mirus' soldiers are fleeing the region.”

“We did? You led us to victory?” Thomas questions with wide eyes.

“Rather than my victory, it was Nobility's defeat.” I reply without being humble. “The way they spread their forces made them weak, something you will have to learn to spot if your rebellion is to survive.”

“Dame Freepath, had we ordered an uphill assault into their archers half the army would have deserted after the first volley.” One of the others explains.

“That's because you've fought too much.” I respond as I sit down to lecture these leaders. An important task since I won't be there to fix their problems for much longer. “Your other failures all stem from the single fact that you engaged in a contest of resources against a Kingdom that will always have more to spend despite its apparent unwillingness to overwhelm you.”

“They tried but we have a lot of support among the population, their armies always suffer from sabotage.” Thomas explains. Good, this population is what Hetlan needs.

“You need to act like hunters, strike where the enemy does not expect and is not prepared. Since you have the people on your side, you should be able to gather the information to make it happen. To be ready to achieve this, what you need is to hoard moral, resources, and flow the same way you gather weapons or recruits.” I lecture. “Do not let rebels use their access to do anything other than fight, no shaping fire constructs to warm themselves up at night and no strengthening constructs to help them fulfill their work-load. If you do this, then everyone will become stronger and more independent.”

“That will affect moral.” Thomas protests.

“Not if you feed your rebels enough.” I deny. “People will heartily work if their reward is a good meal twice a day, you should not have forgotten this.”

“We've certainly failed in the past, Sykus being one of the driving forces behind this along with our failures, but it doesn't change the fact that we cannot afford any of this today.” Elisa cuts in, criticizing my criticism. “The rebellion has fought on its last legs for months upon months, we could last another year thanks to you but what future is there?”

“I haven't been listing what you did wrong to berate you.” I tell her, amused. “I'm informing you of the mistakes you must not repeat such as trusting a single person to lead you, like me for example.”

“Are you telling to listen to you but not?” Thomas flatly asks.

“Listen to me but do not trust me.” I correct to their bafflement. Somehow, the comment seems to turn the other three leading rebels more suspicious of me. “You've taken the duty to lead your people to better lives, do that. I'm going to suggest options but, ultimately, everyone must make their choices without threats hanging on their shoulders. After this battle, Siegfried will ensure that the Order will be at your disposal to negotiate with Mirus but remember your lives will be among the stakes.”

“We've always been prepared to sacrifice our lives.” Elisa affirms.

“Good, but don't throw it away.” I pause as I'm getting shorter in breath once again. “Duchess Edusa of Hetlan is prepared to negotiate with you because she needs an influx of workers and soldiers to make reforms to her lands, and later Caeviel. Make her work to convince you but, if she succeeds, remember that your goals and hers may not necessarily be aligned.” I explain.

“Leave Mirus?” Thomas repeats with a frown.

“It would not prevent you from fighting for your Kingdom, who is to say you cannot continue your rebellion with a Duchy's support? After all, that is what Sykus has been doing to keep you in the fight.” I tell them.

“Which you killed him for.” Elisa utters with a look of loss that soon turns to anger directed at the former leader.

“Because he acted in shadows for the benefit of others more than yours.” I counter. “You know this, and you should not follow his example but be clear to all rebels what it is they have to gain or lose from this arrangement. Not to mention a duty to ensure that you retain control over your destiny rather than hand it over to a different Liege.”

“We've lived on this land for generations, that is why we are fighting Dame Freepath.” Thomas speaks up.

“Then you're fighting for the wrong thing.” I gripe with a scowl. “No one should spill blood for dirt, however fertile it is, when they have other better options like freedom or justice.”

“We rebelled for more freedom and justice in our lands.” The man replies with a frown. “They refused to lessen the labor tax or restrict the amount of grain our former Lieges had a right to take from a harvest.”

It makes sense Sykus pushed for this, both would cut into the power of Mirus' Noble houses and possibly allow for foreign Nobles to buy more grain directly from peasants.

“Boon days, or the labor tax, has been abolished in Hetlan.” I tell them. “All you would need to negotiate is the right of ownership towards all the produce of your work.”

“I don't trust Nobles.” Elisa speaks up while giving me a pointed look that puzzles me. “But I may agree to attempt a deal if Leomi Lance or someone closely related acts as guarantor.”

“I don't see why she wouldn't, although it'll take a while to communicate with both.” I note. “Edusa Hetlan still considers Lance as her Liege, they're close... in a way.”

“This will be something to figure out over time, what should we do now?” Thomas questions.

“It's up to you, I would lead small squads to harass the retreating soldiers and seize however many weapons you can. After that you should retreat to the east to train your rebels, forcing Mirus' next expedition to choose between overextending their supply line and letting you strengthen yourselves as you draw agreements with Hetlan.” I tell them. “Don't have the arrogance to think you can defeat a Kingdom by yourselves, even I would struggle at the task.”

“Humble.” Elisa remarks sarcastically.

“I'm naught if not overconfident.” I humorously remark but it doesn't last long as I keep my attention on the woods to watch for an ambush by the Shades, if that's who they were. “I've no food to share but we may be able to reach the ruins by midday tomorrow.”

With these words, I walk over to the base of a tree and settle with my back against it to close my eyes. I finally allow myself to relax and deep fatigue spreads through my body.

--- --- ---

I hazily look around to find an ominous blurry silhouette reaching for me. I struggle to rise and fight but my body doesn't respond, it's paralyzed. Liz tries but she has no more success.

We immediately realize that I've finally pushed our body too far despite the precautions I took and rage at our impotence. As terror and anger seize our chest, tendrils suddenly appear from the silhouette to gently wrap around our torso and pick us up.

We recognize Celyz, wearing the crown of fresh flowers we gave her, and lose all our tension to let ourselves be tightly held. We melt in her limbs, finding peace and solace as we no longer have to hide or lie about who we are.

With her we can be truthful, expose who we are without fear of judgment but instead a deep discussion to look forward to following by action without meandering hesitant debates that serve no purpose.

“Why is it so difficult?” I ask her, allowing myself to whine to my oak just a little. “I have to take a head for every step I make, every road I travel has a rampart held by archers, every bridge over a river blocked by a shield-wall.”

While I complain, Liz enjoys the sheer physical relief of feeling completely safe and protected, something only two people can give her and Leomi isn't one of them. Elizabeth loves this about Lance but it's also not enough by itself for her, for the damaged beings we've become.

Celyz doesn't respond. She gently breathes against our face and presses her trait-less visage against the scar running along our left cheek, giving us the comfort we both need and refusing the argument none of us want to have.

“We love you, we miss you.” We murmur.

--- --- ---

For once I don't wake in a startle because someone got too close or a sound felt off but rather content. Unfortunately, what awakens me instead are muscle cramps as well as pains in my back and waist from sleeping in my armor.

The rebel leaders are already up, Thomas and Elisa seem to not have slept at all with the shadows under their eyes. I rise and start stretching, feeling my heart still banging away at an unhealthy speed but calming down.

“Do any of you know the lion strike?” I ask, feeling it improbably none would.

“A minority among the rebels do, I am among them with a couple of other leaders.” Thomas replies.

“Why haven't you taught it?” I question.

“Because we can't when we are on the run or being cornered while the rest of the time rebels go back to their families in rotations.” He tells me with a sigh. “There hasn't been an opportunity to settle down to do this because there are always many injuries during the process of learning that construct... and Sykus wasn't a proponent of the idea.”

“Take the time, the rebel ranks will fold when facing a truly competent army they can't catch on favorable ground because of this shortcoming.” I speak up. “Besides, it'll allow you to accomplish hit and run tactics during which you don't run out of flow to flee.”

Elisa and the other three officers exchange a glance with half-impressed expressions. It seems logical they saw this flaw before and it cost them so my seeing through it so easily was unexpected but that only serves to prove how little experience these people have.

“Any semi-competent warrior would spot the issue, not to mention an experienced one. Train your rebel's physical strength, make them exercise with their weapons so they build up the right muscles and their stamina will cease to be an issue to be resolved with strengthening constructs.” I explain with Thomas nodding along. “How did you come to run low on supplies by the way?”

“It's difficult to transport and we were stuck in this town for months.” Elisa replies. “We should be able to rebuild our reserves within a week now.”

“Then let's go so you can start as soon as possible.” I conclude as I head over to the horse.

I hop on and we depart towards the north-east. It takes the entire morning and the beginning of the afternoon to find the ruins. Surprisingly, we don't encounter more than a single patrol of rebels and no soldiers. It seems Mirus' remaining Nobles decided to beat a hasty retreat out of the area.

The rebels have set up camp atop the hill of the battle they won and are gathered in a tight space around a large tent they seized. I spot no trace of the two Shades but they could be hiding anywhere in these hills.

“You truly obtained this victory for us.” Thomas murmurs.

“As I said, it was an effort from both sides.” I tell him, amused.

An odd thing happens as I approach, rebels are thrown in a frenzy when they recognize me, some run towards us but others away. I keep the horse climbing the hill as cheers of celebration arise to be picked up across the camp.

“Freepath!”

“Freepath!”

To escape this, I tap my mount's flanks to send it trotting towards the large tent. A path opens before me as dozens of peasants with worn-out clothes try to touch me, reaching most often for my boots who are easily accessible.

This display, rather than taking it as flattering, disgusts me. There are only a few acting servile but it's enough to undermine my confidence. How many figures among Nobility will gain the support of their people simply because of their charisma or victories?

Those calling my chosen name clearly don't understand the irony of doing so and it's doubtful they would if I explained. They were in the throes of despair and, as drowning people do, have found something to latch onto.

I sigh because this confirms why my plan relies more on base human nature than ephemeral ideals. The majority of those cheering no doubt aren't fanatics but it matters not if they choose their leaders by those with the loudest voice as zealots always do.

“Freepath! Freepath! Freepath!”

As I approach the tent, I notice that it's suffered considerably. There are holes and rips in the cloth which appear recent since small threads are still hanging. It seems the rebel leaders were harassed over my departure immediately after the battle.

It could, indeed, have been interpreted as me being chased away. Something aggravated by Sykus' betrayal which wouldn't have inspired the rebels to trust their leadership, especially after the capture of Thomas and Elisa. My minions are stationed around a camp-fire near the entrance of the tent.

“You feeling up to the task of leading the Redreef rebellion once I'm gone?” I ask them as I get off the horse.

“Perhaps, but we won't be.” Elisa says. “We've decided to disband the Redreef rebellion because most of the original members were found to be Sykus' accomplices.”

“Quick.” I comment with a monotone voice.

“It didn't take much to obtain confessions once we found the gold his inner circle stashed away.” Thomas coldly utters.

“What will you do?” I question.

“Follow Izla Meria's example and form a government.” He responds.

“Hopefully, it'll give us unity without you there.” Elisa mutters.

“Unlikely, power struggles are part of human nature.” I deny.

“Then mutual doubt will keep us from falling into the same trappings as Sykus.” Thomas says with a resolute expression.

“I wish you luck.” I tell them as I turn to my minions, planning to leave immediately.

“Stay, a single day at least.” Elisa throws out.

I give her a look and then glance in the tent to find tired faces. These leaders seem more exhausted than those I rescued and then walked for half a day. As my eyes run across them, each of their faces tighten. They are clearly afraid of me, of the power I hold over the rebellion.

“It would be counter-productive.” I refuse. “You need to stand on your own from now on, no longer do you have a figurehead to rely on and neither should you find another in me.”

I walk off before they can argue. I settle in silence at the campfire where no rebel has the guts to disturb us. Rowland, Uhla, Nahl, and Idali gaze at me with awkward expressions. If I had to guess, all four are experiencing some form of guilt over their choices.

“You did what you had to do, what you thought was right, I won't blame you for it.” I frankly tell them. “But all the same do not expect me to apologize for what I chose either.”

“Fair.” Idali remarks.

I give her a once over. Her cheeks are dug and slightly white, her irises wider than they should be in daylight sitting at a fire. The battle hit her the hardest, she fought with all she had and took many lives after all.

“Here, the roasted chicken got cold but the gruel is still warm.” Nahl says as he hands me a bowl with a wing poking out. Uhla leans over to place a tankard by my foot.

“Roasted chicken.” I repeat in disbelief as I grab it and take a bite. It tastes perfect and it's even salted. This is worth its weight in gold. “And beer! I didn't doubt for a single moment that you were the best most loyal cutest minions ever!” I exclaim.

“Minions?” Rowland calls out.

“Subordinates.” I correct him.

“You said minions.” He says with a frown.

“No I didn't, you definitely misheard.” I deny with a straight face under their accusing gazes. “Be careful or you'll lose your spot as the favorite.” I add to sow discord.

“He's the favorite?!” Idali calls out in protest.

“Never said he was.” I refute.

“Wait, so who is?” Nahl asks.

“It wouldn't be fair of me to say, I think the best is that you all strive to continue to be the best minions at my disposal.” I tell them.

“You said it again!” Rowland yowls.

“You need to get those ears checked, someone might've cut one off considering how you've been trying to take every sword in the region in your flesh.” I remark with a lurid tone.

“That... What? Wait, that's not... hey!” Rowland stutters but finally explodes as he jumps to his feet.

“By the Lake, you're so easy to toy with.” Idali mocks. “It's not even a challenge for her.”

“You bit first!” He snaps back. I bite down on my roasted chicken wing and savor the subtle taste as I settle to enjoy the show.

“Her suggestion that you're the most valuable here was too ludicrous to let pass without challenge.” Idali explains with a serious expression.

“Oh, and who would it be according to you?” Uhla butts in. “The woman who can't even tell what dry wood looks like in the wild? The one who can't tell east from west, with the help of the sun!”

“That was once!” Idali shrieks at the young ex-Semplar. “And I was drunk!”

“Okay, calm down you three, Jess is...” Nahl tries to play peacemaker but three joined yells cut him off.

“Stuff it, bootlicker!” Aah, discord.