There was something different in the air. Maybe, after the celebrations of Zeal’s Web the day before, everyone was jarred by jumping back into the dreadful normal routine. Maybe it was the fact that, despite Iree’s penchant for making sure everything was well-prepared and explained before the army made any move, no one seemed to know for sure what was going to happen once the three squads Iree had put together finished their march past the border and onwards towards a small Ghurian settlement. All any of them knew for sure was that this was ‘a test that needed to go well.’ Iree had assured them that spectacular things were coming if it did but refused to elaborate further. Whatever was happening, Dorothea was busy worrying about other things.

Her plans relied entirely on chance. Gren Fall had to show up to the battle, and he had to be willing to listen to her and show mercy. First thing’s first was to get past the Ghurian border guard. Iree seemed confident that this would be a simple task, as she’d assured Dorothea that her only role for that day was to be an observer.

The primary thing she observed was that Rhys was nowhere to be seen. The rest of Iree’s chosen were here, but there was a pronounced vacancy where the ex-captain usually stood. When she’d asked, Iree had smiled and said that Rhys needed a break. It made sense on the surface, but Dorothea’s stomach still twisted with dread. Without him there, she felt vulnerable. Hopefully she’d bring back something to report that would brighten his spirits.

Birdsong took an ominous tilt as they approached the invisible divide between lands. It was shaded by clusters of pines that huddled close together for protection. The needles underfoot made footsteps soft, but pinecones buried beneath made for a treacherous, startling crunch. Iree signalled with her hands for one group to enter Ghurian territory on a leftward trajectory while one would head right, her own squad continuing forward for three different small settlements that comprised Ghuria’s entire border guard to be attacked that day.

Three separate skirmishes. So the chances of meeting Gren were even slimmer. He always showed up when there was trouble, likely because he was one of the strongest Ghuria’s forces had to offer. He’d be there, he had to be, so the question was where.

Only now was she hit with how daunting it all was. She was alone. Cerid was aloof towards her now as he sorted his thoughts on where she stood, Rhys was absent, Shark was unaware for their own protection, and Iree and Ariana wouldn’t let her off easy if she failed and they uncovered her deception and intentions.

Each small residence in the settlement had a fence that encased a garden; these varied in shape and size. The houses were spaced in an odd, disorderly fashion in what at first seemed like a method without rhyme or reason. Some were squished together while others were severe outliers. The grasses outside of these fences, though, were whitish brown, pathetic curls with no chance of returning to vibrancy. So that was it. The populace was centered on areas with fertile lands, wherever those were and no matter how precariously close to the border.

As the Sacerian invaders approached, defenders emerged from the homes. Some were familiar faces. Johanna Marley, along with the soldier Dorothea had encountered and rescued alongside villagers after the Sunmer attack, were ready for a fight at the drop of a hat along with a few allies. No Gren, though.

It was as if Ariana knew her thoughts as she addressed Iree. “If they’re here, the Wither-user must be nearby too. One of the other teams is kind of doomed.”

“Yeah, I know.” Iree looked to the left and right, warring between choices. “We need to neutralize him…”

Dorothea tried to stay calm, but it wasn’t easy when everyone wanted the head of the person she needed to see.

“Hmph. So she’s here too.” Ariana unsheathed her blade, gaze honing in on a woman who had sprouted a sword of her own on the other side. Dorothea remembered her too, had revived her after Shark and Ariana had killed her during the Sunmer dispute. Now, were they going to do it again, once and for all? It seemed like such a waste.

“You gonna let her get the best of you this time, too, Ariana?” Shark teased as they cracked their knuckles and stepped forward presumably to make sure that didn’t happen.

“With your help, hopefully not. Come on. Iree, we can handle these ones on our own. Go find the Wither-user before he murders us all.”

“Alright. Kick some ass. Atlin, Creed, with me. We’ll check left first.”

“Iree, let Cerid and I go right while you go left,” Dorothea suggested. “Or what grouping it is you prefer. Then, whichever one it is, I can come back to a slightly earlier moment to let you know for sure so we can save time.”

Iree smiled, appreciative. “Cerid, left. Atlin, with me on the right.”

Unsurprising that Iree would want to keep an eye on her, though Dorothea had hoped to be left to her own devices. As Cerid sprinted in the opposite direction, Iree seized Dorothea’s wrist and spurred her on. When they reached the site of the rightways skirmish, she was both horrified and elated to be met with the pile of entirely intact corpses the Sacerian squad had been turned into, save for one. Each squad had been sent along with a Creed, and this member had been mangled nearly beyond recognition. They had been defeated by just two people.

Wesley and Gren.

Iree wasn’t unphased. “Shit. Atlin—”

Wesley interrupted her to drawl, smirking at Dorothea. “So, this is your answer, huh? I’m disappointed, but not surprised.”

She stepped in front of Iree, hands still unclasped but in front of her chest so that they couldn’t be seen from behind. Staring pointedly into Gren’s abyssal eyes, she beckoned with one finger. Come here. If they decided to strike, she’d have time to save herself and Iree. But she had faith he’d understand. “I’ll protect you, Iree,” she whispered to keep up the ruse. “Just stay behind me and avoid those winds. Let’s just try beating them once so I’ll have a better idea of what to tell you next time.”

“Right,” Iree assented. “Though I’ll try to end it here and now,” she growled.

Gren bent in preparation for something and narrowed his eyes. “Wesley. Straight arrow maneuver.”

“Still a stupid name, but sure.” Wesley ran a few steps back, then whirled around to plant his foot to Gren’s back, hard. His hands, thrust behind him, emitted howling winds that propelled the two forward at blurring speed. Iree had put an arm around Dorothea’s shoulders and pulled them both to the ground in an attempt to avoid the strike, but it was in vain. Wesley shot air so that he and Gren were above their foes before sending a blast above his head to bring them slamming down. Gren’s feet smashed into Iree’s back to a sick crack, and he hopped neatly to the side as Wesley seized a screaming Iree by the hair and dragged her off to the side, leaving Dorothea exposed.

Before she could protest—Iree being killed went against everything she wanted to stand for—Gren was leaning over her, arms and legs forming a cage over her body in a false show of defeat. The sounds of Iree screaming and flailing, Wesley’s taunts, all of it was drowned out as he whispered.

“What do you want?”

Breathless with fear and anticipation, she replied, “It would be very helpful to me if you’d kidnap me right now.”

“Just make it convincing.”

Can do. “Iree! No! Don’t hurt her!” she screamed as Gren pinned her arms, being sure to display that her hands couldn’t reach one another, and got her to her feet. The desperation in her voice didn’t have to be falsely placed. The ideal result here was that no one would end up dead, and Wesley seemed to be enjoying himself a little too much.

“Wesley. We need to go,” Gren ordered, mild as ever. “Just knock her out and then go help the others.”

“Ugh. Since when have you been so soft?” Wesley still sounded cheerful as he objected and did Gren’s bidding with a brutal jab to Iree’s face. Dorothea winced at the sound. She would have to continue getting used to the surrender of bone to force.

Iree wasn’t to be defeated so easily. Spitting out the streaming blood that flowed into her mouth from her nose, she seized Wesley’s arm and lashed out with an intense flame directly to his skin. He howled, but, resisting what would be his clear instinct to end her life, drew her closer to bash his forehead against hers. As she fell backwards, he landed a sharp kick to her gut. This time, she stayed down.

Dorothea only saw the scene from glances over her shoulder as she stumbled after Gren.

Once they were out of Iree’s line of sight, he released her wrists. “Don’t worry. He’ll follow orders.”

“Huh?” Her brain shorted out, unable to comprehend him talking to her so casually.

“He was told to knock her out. So that’s what he’ll do. Your friend will be… I won’t say safe, but, alive.”

“Thank you.” Though Iree wasn’t a friend by any means.

“Nothing to thank me for.” He lapsed into thought, and she couldn’t tell if he was frowning or not, much less if he was angry or suspicious. This was no time to relax. She didn’t know this man, and she needed to justify her very existence to him at that moment.

“I needed to see you. To talk to you.” She held her breath.

He stopped walking and looked into her eyes. “Yeah?”

“Sorry, I’m a little frazzled. It’s not you, it’s the situation. I, um, I’d like to go to Sirpo. I believe you when you say Ghuria wasn’t responsible, but…”

“You need to see for yourself.”

“Yes.”

“Okay.” He set off, leaving her to follow. “Fair warning. We did travel there to loot it. Once you insinuated that we destroyed it, we went to investigate. It didn’t seem like the people needed their things anymore.” He paused. “Sorry.”

“No, that seems…reasonable. Well, no, but… You know. As reasonable as it can be. You needed those things, so they should go to use.” How could she begrudge them while knowing their plight?

“You’re not dressed for the cold.”

His concern was shocking. Or maybe it wasn’t even concern. It was probably an observation, nothing more. “I’ll be fine.” Things were going well enough, but something still weighed on her mind. “I have to ask. If you didn’t want to threaten us, then why send Johanna and that other soldier to Sirpo at all?”

“After a battle at the border, one of our people followed an enemy from Sacer into Sirpo’s lands. Without orders. Rather, against them. I told her to come back with us, but she wanted to kill a Creed while she could. She in turn was killed in Sirpo, correct?”

“Yes, she was. I’m sorry.”

He shook his head, dismissing the news without changing his expression. “As for Johanna, I sent her after the aforementioned individual. As you’ve witnessed, she has her own particular way of doing things.” He paused, looking at her over his shoulder. “Not long after you allied with Sacer, a man came to the fort city. He would have looked like Johanna and had the same magic. What happened to him?”

Dorothea swallowed past a sudden lump of fear in her throat. At the time, she’d thought nothing of the aggressor’s death. He’d just been another Ghurian in her mind, but the truth was that he was someone’s brother. “He…was killed too.”

Gren nodded. “Was it quick?”

“Yes.”

“Okay. That won’t comfort Johanna much, but I know she’s been wondering.” He paused. “When we took Sunmer, it was like the perfect revenge. But then it was snatched right back. That’s how Johanna thinks.”

“I see…” Johanna had been incensed on the night of Sunmer’s retrieval, it was true. It had been grief morphing into uncontrollable rage. “I’m sorry. I know it must be hard to have her taking it out on you, but losing someone so suddenly…” Not that that hadn’t happened to them all.

“I know. I was the same.”

Gods, she was tactless. Gren’s entire family had been executed. “I… I’m sorry. This must sound so trite to you.”

He shook his head. His next words came from nowhere, and they chilled her with memories and grief.

“Did you lose anyone? In what the Sacerians call the epidemic.”