“Damn,” Iree swore softly. “Damn it all.” She spun around to face the Ghurians, who’d stopped to wait out the small meeting between the Sacerians, with her hands on her hips. “We have your guarantee?” she demanded. “That no civilians will be harmed.”

Gren looked into her eyes. “Yes.”

“Your final terms, then, are that we give you the fort and the villages under its charge. Nothing else.” The words sounded as if they were being wrenched from the back of her throat.

“Correct.” Gren waved an arm, and both of his companions relaxed, assured that the battle was won. “Every last possession must be left behind. Comply, and there won’t be any more harm done.”

Iree clenched her hands, entire body stiff with rage. “Deal,” she finally said. “But the three of you leave right now.”

“Uh-huh,” Wesley laughed. “So you can go right back on your word.”

“Unlike a certain race of rats,” Iree hissed, “we Sacerians honor our contracts.”

“Can’t we just kill them, Gren?” Wesley requested with a bitter smile.

“No.” Gren regarded the Sacerians dispassionately. “If the conditions aren’t met, this place becomes a den of corpses. You understand.”

Dorothea trembled as the Ghurians came closer, and each Sacerian soldier’s body was tensed to react. Wesley and Johanna wore grins that inspired varying levels of terror as they moseyed behind Gren. He was the most frightening of them all, with that emotionless face.

“You’re a smart girl.” Johanna ruffled Dorothea’s hair, and she flinched. “Don’t look at me like that. I’m just doing what’s got to be done.”

“With a shit-eating grin on your face!” Wesley cackled.

“You’re saying that to me? You, of all people?”

“That doesn’t detract from my point at all.”

“I hate you, Wesley.”

“Both of you, quiet, please,” Gren said mildly. He glanced upwards to meet Dorothea’s eyes. “For what it’s worth, I apologize.”

Dorothea’s voice quavered with impotent fury. “For what? It’s too late for you to pretend you have feelings over what you did to Sirpo, isn’t it?”

“Drop it, Atlin,” Iree snapped, and Gren turned away without replying. “I know how you feel, but there’s no use right now.”

Rhys spoke up. “Please let us depart.” He motioned between himself and Dorothea.

“Why?” Gren asked. His companions didn’t look too pleased, obviously believing the request to be a trap of some kind.

“To stop the fighting at the village you’ve also attacked,” Rhys explained. “To tell our troops and yours to withdraw.”

“Ah. So you sent someone to counter. Almost like you knew we were coming.” Gren glanced at Dorothea. “Go on, then.”

“Iree… Don’t start anything!” Rhys pleaded. He tugged on Dorothea’s arm to get her to lurch after him.

“But what if…” Dorothea fought against his hold. Would Cerid and Iree really be alright? What if the Ghurians felt like they couldn’t afford for them to live?

Cerid smiled grimly at her. “It will be fine, Miss Dorothea. We have no choice but to trust these people to keep their word.”

“As we will,” Gren stated, measured.

There wasn’t a choice. “Both of you, be safe.” With that, she gave into Rhys’ insistent pulling. Once they were back on the ground and in the cover of the trees, he urged her into a run. “I’m sorry… For betraying the faith you all had placed in me.” Her apology felt empty.

He didn’t reply, only setting his lips into a tight line.

She couldn’t stop talking, or she’d completely freak out. Maybe she already was. “Rhys, their magic, even the ones that aren’t Wither, it’s so…” They were so powerful. Rhys had been killed in an instant even when victory had seemed so certain. “Iree was so confident that if I were there, nothing would happen.” Dorothea had shared in her assumption that having the ability to turn back events would guarantee success. However, an outlier had appeared. There existed a person powerful enough to defy each and every redo.

“I’m sorry too,” he said, voice barely reaching her. “This is all my fault. I had them, and I…”

“Have you never felt that hesitation before?” It seemed so natural to her that he would have when it came to taking a life.

“I’ve killed hundreds without caring and never once looked them in the eyes and thought of them as fellow humans.” He sounded defensive, almost.

Even if it wasn’t obvious to him, the conclusion was clear to her. “You’re hesitating because you don’t want to kill them.” The weight of death was dragging on him, whether he realized it or not. It was natural, but he seemed so scared. Nervously, Dorothea kept pushing. “They want supplies and space. That much is clear. Why is that? Rhys, what are the lives of the Ghurians like?” She didn’t know. She’d signed on to destroy them without knowing. Yes, they’d broken a contract. Yes, the sickness had taken so much, too much, and that was the fault of the Ghurians. They had taken her mother and father, her home, everything. She should have hated them from the start. But even so…

“We have to win. They’ll kill all of us,” Rhys insisted.

“I… But they just want supplies,” Dorothea repeated. That point wouldn’t stop nagging at her. “Why is that? Why do they need them?”

“Dorothea.” Rhys jerked them to a stop and turned to face her. “Don’t ever say words like that to anyone else. Treason is a very serious charge.”

“Treason?” Dorothea echoed, flabbergasted. “Does this conversation really warrant a term like that?”

He looked at her apologetically. “No. I don’t know. Listen. The facts are still the facts here. Today’s battle is just one in a long line. So many, too many, have died, and we have to defeat the Ghurians to survive. We have to keep going. That we’re all human doesn’t change a single thing.”

“I wish it could,” Dorothea whispered. Couldn’t this war have been avoided, somehow? What had been lost that prevented that?

Rhys shook his head. “Come on.”

The village in question had clearly seen its own share of battle. The wounded, piles of civilians, lay on the ground, bodies black and rotted wherever bare skin was visible. Frostbite.

“Look at this. This is how it always goes,” Rhys muttered. “We can’t change anything at all. I’m an idiot.”

“Rhys…” Dorothea wanted to reach out to him somehow, but she had no idea how or if there was even use in it. “I’m sorry.”

“You tend to the injured. I’m going to find Ariana and Shark.” His steps seemed heavy as he left, as if it took everything he had to gather himself and keep moving.

Ugly business, to be sure, and she had to face it with them now. That was the least she owed after today’s disaster. “It’s alright… It’s okay now.” She gently soothed each person she fluttered to with such words, watching their skins return to health.

One boasted a different condition than the others. A deep gouge marked her stomach; blood oozed steadily from the stab. Hold on. Ariana’s magic was the use of blades, wasn’t it? For the first time, Dorothea looked at the victim’s face. It was one she knew, a Ghurian soldier that had been present at the border attack, the girl with the very frostbite magic that had terrorized these villagers. In fact, nearly all of the players from that day had also been present at the border scuffle. How short were the Ghurians on manpower, she wondered.

Dorothea’s first impulse after realizing that she was kneeling over an enemy was to run. But no. She stopped herself, took a deep breath, and picked up the girl’s hand. As her injuries healed, her eyes popped open; Dorothea jumped, shocked by it.

“What’re you…?” the Ghurian groaned, then froze. “You’re a Sacerian. You were there, at the border.” Her gaze shot around as she realized exactly what kind of predicament she was in.

“Hush,” Dorothea whispered. If she wanted to gripe about the unkindness of the world, it was her responsibility to step up to the plate first. Now she would see if that kindness could be returned, if it was possible, in any way, for them to forget their hurts and meet in the middle. Besides, letting this woman die put the uneasy truce of the day in danger.

The Ghurian’s eyes drifted closed again. “Lucky for you,” she murmured, “I don’t feel like fighting back too much right now.”

“The Sacerian army has surrendered the villages surrounding the fort,” Dorothea told her, barely breathing. “Once you’re healed, just leave as quickly as you can.”

She touched her unmarred stomach once the process was done “Hm. Since I technically owe you one now… I guess I won’t kill you.” She got to her feet and stretched slowly as if she hadn’t a care in the world. “I’ll probably regret that. Meh. Since we’re even with that said, though, don’t expect to live through our next encounter.”

That was it, then. Kindness would only get them so far. There would be another battle, another round of killing. A life spared now could easily be taken later. How foolish of Dorothea. How pathetic and stupid of her, as always.

The girl was talking again after pulling Dorothea up. “I’d say it was nice to see you again, but this entire day has been pretty awful.” She rubbed the back of her neck as she walked away. “I got out of bed for this…?”

Dorothea took a few moments to collect herself. Right and wrong weren’t so clear. It felt as if they changed, merging, separating, switching back and forth, every day. Still, it was too late now for those questions. She had found a way to make a safe future. The Ghurians were the only thing that stood in the way of that.