Lyra pulled the dagger back, slitting the blue neck of the mage she'd caught. He fell gurgling to the floor and she stepped to the sdie, his last attempt to swallow her into the earth not reaching its target. Lyra really did not enjoy fighting mages.

She glanced back where the tower could just be made out on the horizon. Where was Hickory? He should have subdued the Arch Mage by now. Had he been defeated?

It was an annoying possibility, but not one Lyra had not prepared for. She didn't need Hickory at this point. The city was nearly taken, what she needed was the last noose to hang Aziron and its allies. Judging from the steadily decreasing levels of magical resistance to her warrior's attacks, the Arch Mage was at least alive and occupied.

That meant there were apprentices in the city. The First and Second apprentices would be trouble but the Third? Ah, well he was noose she needed.

Her own mages thinned to almost nothing, Lyra had to do her own scouting. She danced along the battlefield occasionally engaging a mage or otherwise merely stepping over the bodies of her troops. The stone wall around the city was impressive but pieces were already crumbling away as the mages who built it died and her own straggling mages and the brute strength of her armies crashed into it.

Before she could find anything interesting, Fenrin found her. For a moment their eyes met, emerald green and stormy grey widening before Fenrin charged.

With more muscle memory than tactics, Lyra countered his assault, her daggers crossing to block his sword and send its point into the dirt. Her leg shot out but he just pivoted, kicking out at her face. She leaned avoiding his boot and rolled backwards, springing back to her feet and launching herself forward.

Fenrin swiped at her and she twirled to the side moving with practiced step behind him. Her dagger plunged towards his back but Fenrin's rotated his sword blocking the expected dagger. He reached with his free hand and caught her arm.

She flipped her dagger and threw it at Fenrin's face. Forced to dodge, he tried to pull her down with him, but she twisted her arm out of his grasp.

"Hello, brother," she sneered as a new dagger flicked into her hand.

"It's over, Lyra." He stood back up, his sword readied.

"Oh no, I've only just gotten started."

He only nodded, his gaze steady and calm. That wouldn't do at all. He wasn't a worthy opponent, not anymore, and Lyra would prove it. She dashed forward and feinted a stab at his leg. He slid his sword at her and she blocked it with her other dagger, using her crouch to propel herself and his sword upward. Her feinting dagger slashed near his face.

Fenrin jerked back but she got what she'd been aiming for. The tie around his forehead fell off and she danced back as he was distracted by the falling cloth. There, like a brand, was the mark she'd read about. She stepped in a wide circle around her brother.

"I have to admit, I was truly disappointed when I'd heard how far you'd fallen. Still I suppose you always were so easy to trick. I shouldn't be surprised you'd end up caged by filth like the Brimstones."

"Shut up, it's time to end this." He was trying to keep focus and she continued her wide circling.

Her brother tried to charge her again but she was faster. "You know, even mother didn't end up crying herself to sleep each night and she'd at least been worth sacrificing. Tut, tut, to think of how much you scared my poor daughter while she was in your care..."

That did it. His face twisted and he gave a roar. His attack was sloppy and she easily sidestepped. His reaction was slow and his next attack more savage. It was a dangerous game and if she got too close to his claws, he looked ready to tear her apart.

So she danced around him, staying frustratingly just out of reach. As she toyed with him, she laughed. Her brother was having more trouble following her movements than normal, his face pale and eyes wide. His tunnel vision was too easy to figure out and take advantage of. It wasn't long before she managed a hit, her knife cutting deeply into his shoulder as he exposed it with a long thrust of his sword, desperately trying to close the distance.

He continued after her, not even pausing at the wound and in her surprise, he nearly caught her. His sword rolled back and she blocked it, but the force pushed her dagger into her own arm, the deadly sharp point puncturing her leather armor and letting a small stream of hot blood dribble out.

She could keep fighting, further learning his weaknesses and limits and exploit them until he fell bleeding from a thousand cuts...but she had other work to do for now.

"Now, now, if I recall, last time I saw you, you were with my traitorous daughter. I wonder if she followed her foolish uncle to his death. Now there's an opportunity I just can't miss."

His eyes locked on her and with a grin that held a promise of pain and suffering, Lyra reached for the cloak’s magic and vanished from sight.

Fenrin roared, swinging widely and Lyra stepped lightly out of his way. Guessing a safe place, she held perfectly still as he calmed himself down and surveyed the battlefield. He wasn't a complete idiot and if she so much as moved while he was sniffing her out, he'd notice.

However, there was no need for her to move...not until he did anyway. With a curse, he dashed off across the battlefield and, stepping carefully, Lyra followed.

She knew he wouldn't be so foolish as to lead her to her daughter, but she had to hide a laugh when a familiar green and blue robed figure came into view.

Matius, the Third Apprentice.