Rhys frowned and started to say something to Dorothea, but they were interrupted by Iree and a stern middle-aged woman who had to be Sunmer’s representative.

“We’re going to caucus on top of the fort,” Iree stated. “Come on. Try not to trip, Rhys,” she teased.

“It was one time,” Rhys muttered, shaking his head.

“Caucus,” Shark snickered, and Cerid slapped their arm.

“This is her, is it?” The Sunmer soldier motioned to Dorothea once they had all been gathered atop the fort wall. “Your new ace. I got your letter on the developments yesterday. How…” She looked Dorothea over with a frown. “Inspiring.”

“What did you expect? She’s a person just like us,” Iree laughed.

“Erm, yes, that’s me,” Dorothea mumbled, embarrassed under the scrutiny. Luckily, talk of her stopped as the group went to the fort’s top. Sunmer’s wall had the same structure as Springen’s, with doors inside the watchtowers opening to the adjacent walls. They stood in a circle once everyone had scaled the staircase and emerged outside.

“The attacks are coming in the afternoon,” Iree stated, “so that gives us time to reorganize. I’d advise setting up points along the perimeter. Most of my people will stay here to intercept any attack from the front, and I’ll send two to the village along with anyone else of your choice. It would be better, in fact, for us to send in two groups to the village. Mine will go in through the front while yours approach from behind.”

The soldier smiled wryly. “Bossy as ever, Commander Nobelis.” Still, she complied without question, rushing off to spread orders.

“That said,” Iree picked up without missing a beat, “Kingfisher and Olyen. Go to the village. It’ll be a little less than a mile east of here.”

“What about her?” Ariana glanced at Dorothea. “Am I not supposed to be a bodyguard?”

“In other situations, I’d keep you here, but since we have all of Sunmer’s soldiers behind us too in case of emergency, it’ll be okay.” Iree grinned. “Get along, you two.”

Ah, so there was another motivation. Iree wanted Ariana and Shark to fight together and maybe lessen the ire between them in doing so. Ariana muttered something vague and set off while Shark took Dorothea’s hand and squeezed it.

“Take care,” they said.

“You too,” Dorothea whispered, knowing that neither of them would stop worrying about the other for even a second while they were apart.

With Ariana and Shark gone, Iree gave more orders. Dorothea would intervene at her own discretion unless ordered by Iree or Rhys specifically. Cerid would focus on subduing the Wither-user personally while any other enemies were kept at bay by the commander and captain. For now, they would wait and steel themselves.

“I know it’s bad, but I’m excited for this,” Iree laughed as they waited in an air sizzling with dreadful anticipation. “Those Ghurian rats won’t know what hit ‘em.”

“Rats?” Dorothea echoed. Iree said it a lot, but she didn’t really understand.

She waved a casual hand. “It’s a thing. They call us pigs, we call them rats.”

“But that’s…” What good did it do to see one another as animals? “But aren’t we all people?”

Iree eyed her strangely for a moment, then let out a laugh. “Truly spoken like someone from neutral territory.”

Dorothea’s thoughts stirred with confusion. Even if they were just words… No, not in wartime, they weren’t. She couldn’t let herself forget that she was helping to kill other human beings. That one side was called Sacer and one Ghuria was immaterial. When she thought of Equin, she felt hate for the Ghurians. But rats… They weren’t rats. Not all of them had decided to eradicate the Sirpoans or to engage Sacer. Nothing was right or simple anymore. Would anything ever be okay again? How long would it be after this one ended until the next war came?

“Do you think Ariana and Shark will be alright? And the village?” she fretted.

“Of course. Don’t worry about them. Just focus on what’s happening here.” Iree patted her back with unexpected gentleness. “Listen. Do your best, yeah, but you can lean on us too. Everything will be alright.”

Dorothea nodded, hesitant. “If you say so, I’ll trust you.”

Iree smirked. “Good girl.”

Just as Dorothea had started to think about whether or not those words made her feel diminutive, a strange shadow passed over Iree’s head. The girl glanced up, and then her hand slammed into Dorothea’s chest as she pushed her away.

Dorothea hit the ground winded and, when she collected herself enough to survey the scene, saw a boy land crouched, watched his lips part slightly as he let out a breath. The shadow had been from him sailing through the air. He sprinted towards Iree, Iree lifted a hand filled with spinning fire, his fingers just barely brushed her knee as she prepared to bring the flame crashing down on his head, and…

Iree dropped to the ground, lifeless. The new void present in her eyes, rolled back as her body crumpled in an awkward angle and her head smacked against stone, told Dorothea this truth. Wither. It had to be. Dorothea looked back up to the boy, noted dark hair, dark eyes, dark skin, the flapping of a thin jacket behind him as he moved with flashing, unhesitant speed, the Sacerian soldiers rushing to stop him, and then his hand inches from her face. Breath caught in her throat, she clasped her hands and screwed her eyes shut, and then she was once more standing next to a very alive Iree and waiting for the attack to come.

“Iree…” Dorothea seized her arm, breathing hard from the fear still rampaging through her veins.

“What happened?” Iree asked urgently as Rhys and Cerid cast stares of wary shock and concern.

“A boy with Wither, he’s going to come up over the wall near where we’re standing. H-he just killed you like, like it was nothing, and…”

Iree shivered. “Fuck.”

“We have about…thirty seconds now,” Dorothea whispered.

“Okay.” Iree put a hand tightly on Dorothea’s lower arm, reassuring her with the strength of her grip. “Tell me where he lands.”

“From where you are… About three feet to the left.”

“Got it.” Iree looked into her eyes. “Don’t worry. I’ll make sure this time is different.”

Dorothea nodded. Twenty seconds. Fifteen. Ten. Five. And…

“Got you,” Iree hissed, turning a ferocious grin up to the flying attacker as flame blossomed in her palms. The boy’s eyes narrowed, and he drew something from the inside of a jacket colored white, gray and black in three panels. He and Iree threw at the same time, and a ball of fire to the leg was traded for a blade to the shoulder. The knife had thrown off Iree’s aim, but the boy still landed in a thrown-off heap.

Though he was shaking, Cerid leapt into action, pinning the attacker with a knee between the shoulder blades and both wrists seized to jerk the arms behind the back. The next moment, ice erupted over the top of the fort wall, spires grouped together to form a chilled prison around the Sacerians.

“Cerid, no matter what, don’t let go of that bastard!” Iree ordered.

Two more figures came sailing through the air, entering through a slim opening at the top of the ice crowding around them. One was, of course, Johanna Marley, wearing a splitting grin. The other was known to Dorothea too; it was the boy with wind magic from the border attack. That explained how the Ghurians had flown upwards in the first place.

“Didn’t know rats could fly,” Iree muttered.

“Got yourself into some trouble, hm, Grenny?” the boy asked with a sly smile. The Wither-user couldn’t quite reply, as his face was pressed against the stones beneath him.

Johanna clapped her hands even as she hobbled, dragging along the ankle Rhys had broken in their last encounter. “Ahaha. So, if you let him go, I won’t kill you. I guess that’s what I’m supposed to say.” Her smile widened to a baring of teeth. “Right? Like you let my brother go.”

“Rhys!” Iree snapped. “Hurry up!”

Her captain drew a hand from his pocket and sighed softly. Water materialized in front of him, no, it was seized from the air, and quickly slid to coat the ice caging them all in. The water devoured the ice, assimilating it into its fold.

“Ohhh myyy,” Johanna said slowly. “Wesley?”

“Yup.” The wind-user looked up at the water as if it were a simple annoyance.

“Hostage negotiation unsuccessful.”

“Yup.”

With a simple wave of his hand, Rhys sent the water crashing down upon his opponents. Cerid jumped back just in time to escape being locked in the sphere that engulfed the Wither-user and his allies. The Ghurian soldiers writhed, helpless and alone in their own separate prisons, no air or escape. They floated there, encased in bubbles, light filtering through the water that was killing them slowly. All three seemed to have had the wherewithal to take a deep breath and hold it before being consumed, but it would only prolong the inevitable.

“Rhys can control any form of water he encounters, even if the magic wasn’t originally his,” Iree explained triumphantly. “He’s meant for this kind of thing. Heh.” She grinned at Dorothea. “That’s what happens when we catch them instead of them catching us. Again, thanks to you.”

“What now, Iree?” Rhys asked, gesturing to the suffocating Ghurians.

“You decide. You’re the one who caught them,” she replied.

“What? But… Hm.” Rhys looked at the three, then back at Iree helplessly. “It would be better to do what you want with them.”

“Now you care about my feelings,” Iree muttered; only Dorothea heard her, and she noted how personal the anger and hurt in those words was. “Just make a choice, Rhys!”

Rhys frowned at her, and then his body was almost completely bisected, a straight crimson line forming across his stomach. He stumbled back one step, pushed by the force of the wind that had stricken him, before careening down like a limp doll.