General Maja walked through the shadow of a dead god, slaughtering the dying.

Any groan was met with the edge of her bone glaive. The Raven and its cult had been murdered, down to the last man, but her duty had not ended. The blood of Avri the Raven contained great and terrible power, its potential beyond any other. It created hateful, greedy monsters. If even a drop of that divine blood was ferried home… the corruption would be unending.

So even as her men begged and pleaded, she cut them down.

Among the thousands of corpses surrounding her, only General Maja walked. The rest of her troops, diminished as they were, stayed away, killing those that attempted to flee. Upon their return to the Foot, they would be heroes. Godslayers. Yet despite their valorous service, she would still kill them if they partook of the Ravenblood.

The Ox’s blood sung in her veins, defying the Raven’s rot. She had volunteered for the filthy duty as her last proper task within the army. Most of the other Blooded were slain, the blood of gods within their veins becoming useless as it mingled with the Raven's own. Her subordinates had dwindled from tens of thousands to mere hundreds. There was no general without an army. It was time to pass blood within her on.

She kept her eyes down and her ears open. Occasionally, she would stab into the bodies beneath her feet, sensing something still moving. She wielded her body, massive and impossible muscled from the Oxblood, with a grace borne of thirty years of practice, easily piercing through several of the dead to those that breathed beneath.

Blood dripped down from above, black as darkness itself. General Maja avoided looking up. A god was a monstrous thing, even dead. There was nothing more terrifying in this world, she was certain. Yet she and five other generals under the instruction of Great General Ignatius had ended it. For good, she hoped.

The battle had raged for two days and two nights, but the dawn of the third saw Avri and its ilk dead. They had won. Now they only had to leave this place and the blood that tainted it. They would be rewarded. General Maja could be freed of her blood and the duty it saddled her with. Maybe open a small restaurant, like her father’s. Though fifty years of the martial life had long since robbed her of those skills.

Even still, she was sure the future would be better than the present. Anything was.

It was night by the time she returned, drenched in inky blood. Her glaive, powerful though it was, was left in the corpse of her Lieutenant, coated in blackened ichor. Drue of the Lizard met her silently, and together they burned her armour and wiped her clean. He was a fool, as most of the Lizardblood were, but even he could read her mood. General Maja exulted in her cleanliness, the feeling of dirt and grime falling away from her.

The scrubbing opened barely closed wounds, but none were deep. The other generals were worse off. Only three of the original six lived. Great General Ignatius, the Spiderblood, despite his usual cowardice, had entered the fray himself and had his legs removed for the trouble when the Raven swept through the battlefield. General Bina alone remained of her army, having her troops use themselves as bait to distract the Raven whilst the other generals dealt with the Cult. She survived, more skeleton than person. Despite the Lizardblood’s divine hardiness, she would likely not survive the journey home.

Drue brought her silken robes, almost collapsing under the weight of the material. It was enough to make clothes for five men. She dressed slowly. The feeling of silk on skin was a luxury she had never had time to acclimatise to. Only when she was fully dressed did Drue open his mouth.

“General, we require your assistance with a matter. If you could-”

She shot him a glare, loath to relinquish the silence they had cultivated. Nevertheless, the man blundered on.

“There’s a Raven child,” he said, eyes narrowed in mulish obstinance. “There’s no one intact enough to kill him.”

“It’s a kid,” she gravelled out. “You’re a soldier. End him and be done with it.”

“He’s entrenched in a small burrow sir. We’ve been trying to collapse it, but it’s not working."

“Then go in.”

Drue paused. Maja could see the cogs turning in his head. Even as diminished as her troops were, he was still barely ranked above the most common of soldiers, mostly by virtue of the godsblood he had somehow obtained. She could feel her blood beginning to boil. It was impossible to know whether her rage was the Ox’s influence or her own nature.

“Sir, no one wants to-“

Maja felled him with a blow to the gut, vainly trying to conquer her fury. He wheezed on all fours and she wondered whether that was the first hit he had ever taken. The Lizardblood was covered in blood yet his armour was unmarred and he himself unscarred. General Maja trembled, wondering whether she should kill him. Lizardbloods were sturdy, and healed fast, but his was thin. She surged with hatred, her blood trying to convince her of her righteousness. It had happened countless times before, and all Blooded trained to master their divinity. However, she was too exhausted. Drue wouldn’t be the first soldier she killed today.

Drue kept his head down, avoiding her eyes, and his submission quenched her anger enough to stop herself from splitting his skull open.

She spoke. “You are soldiers. You have your orders. Why is the child not dead?”

“It’s- it’s- no one wants to die and they’re saying they’re not cultists, General!”

Maja rubbed her head with a thick hand. One last duty, she thought.

“Lead on.”

Drue led her through the camp. It hardly deserved the moniker. Of the initial force numbering a hundred thousand, less than a twentieth remained. The result was soldiers wandering aimlessly, having lost their squad mates and most anyone they fought with. Fires smouldered, fuelled with the dung of mules and whatever shrubs the arid land offered, yet those around them sat in stunned silence. Tents and supplies sat untouched, the only exception being the medical tent in the centre of the camp, where a quarter of those surviving would die before the day was out.

It wasn’t regulation, but there was no regulation that mattered for such a devastated force. General or not, there was no way for Maja to stir them from their stupor. She could feel the same malaise that infected them within herself, dragging her eyes closed. She had not slept for days, after all. But there was no way she could, after what she had done.

On the other side of their diminished forces was a half-collapsed hole in the ground. The former home of some desert creature, long fled from the battle's noise. Poking from it was a bloody spear. A soldier sat several paces away from it, a hole through his hand. He saluted, form sloppy, but Maja could tell from his dead eyes that there was no better salute to be had.

“There.” Drue said, pointing to the hole. “The child’s hiding in there.”

She squatted loosely, just out of range of the spear, and let out a deep sigh. “This is General Maja, commander of the second Ravensbane army under Great General Ignatius." She said firmly. "State your name and affiliation.”

There was a long silence. “I’m Orvi,” a voice squeaked, “commander of the, uhm, hole, under the, uh, ground.”

The kid was cute. Damn it all. “Orvi. Where did you come from?”

“There was another hole except it was bigger and people were meaner and they kept taking people away but then they all ran off and we got out.”

“We?”

“Yeah.”

“Who is 'we'? Is there anyone with you?”

“Yes, two little babies.”

“They were with you in the hole?”

“Yeah their mumma helped me get out of the hole.”

“Is their mother with you?”

“No, I don’t know where she is.”

“Do you know-“

“Hey General Ma?” The kid interrupted, Maja quickly stifling her anger at being cut off.

“What is it, Orvi?”

“Uhm. Uhm. We really really need your help because I think that Sash is hurt, she bumped her head and she hasn’t been moving a lot.”

“Orvi. If I’m going to help you, you need to answer something for me.”

“Okay. I’m very good at answering things.”

“How long have you been in that hole?”

“Uhm. Two days? I think? I haven’t moved because I think people are fighting and we’re only little.”

“Alright. This next question is very important, Orvi, and I need you to be honest with me.”

“Okay.”

“Have you got any black blood on you, or in your mouth? Blood from the Raven.”

There was a long pause. Orvi muttered something.

“What was that?”

“No!” he yelled.

If what Orvi said was true, the kid was a captive of the cultists, probably going to be used as a sacrifice, as the Raven cult tended to do those they kidnapped. Maja turned to Drue. He shook his head and she felt another burst of anger at his nonchalance towards killing this child. Hypocritical, maybe, but there was a difference between this, and killing soldiers and cultists. The latter knew the risks. A child did not.

Maja turned back to the kid. “Orvi, I’m going to need you to come out.”

“Dash and Sash too?”

“Yes, them as well.”

“Okay.”

The spear was shoved out of the hole, and a child with two infants strapped to him with a crude harness slowly wriggled out. Orvi seemed like a fairly normal child, with unremarkable brown hair and eyes, possessing skin tanned from long hours in the sun, perhaps five or six years of age. A picture of a farmer’s son, albeit a malnourished one. Remarkably, his only wounds were small cuts already scabbed over. His large eyes stared gormlessly at her.

The babies, one on his back and one on his front, were more unusual. Both had exotic white hair coupled with blue eyes; signs their parents had come from very far away. The back-facing child was bleeding from a head wound, while the front one glared at her silently.

Orvi turned to the soldier guiltily and muttered a quick apology, before attempting to face her again. When his gaze only met her knees, he craned his neck to look her in the eyes, uncowed. “Please ma’am, Sash’s hurt. I really didn’t mean to but she hit her head when I was running. I don’t want her to die. She’s only little.”

She quirked an eyebrow at being called ma’am. The Oxblood were the ugliest of the Blooded, excepting perhaps the Spiderblood. It was almost impossible to tell their gender. Maja turned to Drue, still waiting for her cue. “What happened here?”

“Sir. We found them earlier today. We tried smoking them out but it didn’t work. We tried fire-“

Maja slapped him across the head, sending the Blooded stumbling. “Idiot. What happens if they had the Ravenblood? The camp’s right there. What if the smoke carried the blood?”

Drue shook his head, recovering. “They might not have it, General.”

“So you were going to kill three innocent children?”

“Well, they could have it.”

“Oh, by the blood. Either you would have killed three innocents or sent the blood into camp. Soldier, we just killed a god. Do you plan on bringing it back?”

She almost couldn’t believe it. Her words were exaggerated, but only slightly. In such circumstances, the culling of innocents may be necessary. Yet, allowing the blood to escape? The Raven was the first god killed in history, and its powers were unique even among the divine. There was no precedent. Even if it was dead for good, its blood was dangerous. This was a dereliction of duty bordering on traitorous.

It would be entirely within her rights to kill Drue on the spot. She had done so before for lesser crimes. His actions were negligent, and threatened to undermine everything her comrades had fought for. She would have, in any other circumstance. But there was a better use for his death.

“Orvi. For me to help you, you must first do something for me.”

The kid had watched their exchange, fidgeting silently. Now he looked at her again, reluctance clearly writ on his face.

“What is it, ma’am?”

Maja punched Drue on the side of the head, sending him toppling to the ground, unconscious. The Ravenblood was dangerous for a reason. It stole power, but only upon death. It was this power that made the cult so volatile. And seductive, for the ambitious.

“Pick up the spear and kill this man. If you do not, I will be forced to kill you.”

Orvi stared at her for a long moment. He slowly moved his feet backwards.

“You can’t run from this, child.” General Maja said gently. “A sickness has spread through this land. If you have it, you die.”

Orvi stared at Drue, still senseless on the ground. “I don’t want to hurt him.”

“Do you want to die? Do you want little Dash and Sash to die?”

The child began crying. Sobs contorted his whole body. Maja felt self-loathing rise to her throat, but she had a duty. One more important than Drue or the three children.

“Do you?”

“Dadda said I gotta be good to the twins.” He sobbed. “Like a big brother”

“Then save them.”

Orvi slowly walked over to the spear. He looked at the soldier he had stabbed earlier. The man was surprisingly young, Maja noticed. There was a deep sorrow on his face, but he remained silent. The kid looked at Maja.

“Right here.” She tapped Drue’s neck, the larynx still bobbing. “It’ll be quick.” It wouldn’t be.

Orvi dragged the spear over, the shaft nearly twice his height. Its tip shook as his body shivered, wracked with sobs. The infant strapped to his front, sensing something wrong, began wailing as well. Orvi brought the spearhead to where Maja pointed, attempting to manoeuvre the shaft above his head without hitting his two charges. Eventually, he managed it.

He looked at her, a keening sounding from his throat.

“Just push it down.”

He looked down at Drue, small lips drawn to a line. Tears fell on the man’s face. He stirred, slightly.

“Orvi.”

The kid thrust downwards, piercing the Blooded’s neck. Crimson blood spurted outwards, containing power most men would kill for. Maja let it fall, covering the parched ground beneath them. She could feel warm liquid and impacts on her naked feet as Drue writhed, but her gaze was focused on the children.

Dash cried and Sash dangled. Orvi stared, shivering, at the dying man on the ground as he flailed. Maja watched, waiting for any changes.

Drue took maybe twenty minutes to die, his blood’s divinity prolonging the agony. When he finally stilled, she dipped a finger in his blood and smeared it on each child’s forehead, watching for the euphoria that filled the cultists, the surge of energy they felt as they stole the power of the dead. Any blankness in the eyes, a pause as the Ravenblood incorporated new energy. A sign that the power of Avri lived still. A sign that she needed to kill them.

But Orvi just sobbed harder, and General Maja knew her duty was done.