The storm was heavier than they expected, especially considering they had finally killed the Thunderclaw Knight and its minions for good. Crystals of Mana didn’t fall in flakes or powders this time. This was no gentle Mana shower.

No, this was a veritable blizzard of Mana.

Glowing blue bits streaked down like tiny meteors, whipped through the nearby air as though they were being shot by guns, and struck Rory’s skin with little stings wherever it was exposed. It was a blessing they were getting a lot of Mana. But at the same time, it was making their current task tremendously difficult.

“I can’t keep this up,” Evelyn said. “The injured won’t last long in this storm.”

“Then take them inside.” Rory kept his voice calm despite the windy roar. “The rest of us will work through it.”

Evelyn’s face proclaimed that she was against the idea, but she didn’t vocalize any complaints. Instead, she turned away him and started organizing the effort to return to the safety of the palace’s interior.

Rory trudged on through the Mana storm until he came upon Jesse’s corpse. It had barely been a day since they had rescued her from that nightmare in her hospital, and just when she was making a solid recovery, she’d been killed. Her skin had grown pale though the majority of was heavily burned, a large neck wound still pooling blood.

“Here,” Arelland said. “Allow me to assist.”

Rory bent down and grabbed Jesse’s shoulder. “Thank you.”

Together, they lifted and hauled the lifeless body over the broken ground, up the crumbling stairs, and into the damaged hall. Jesse’s body went the with the rest they had gathered so far. As ever, Rory paused to grimace at the grisly pile. So many people they had rescued. So many dead.

“How many are left?” Viv asked.

Evelyn had nearly had to force her to remain inside the palace after she had tried to barge outside to help with bringing in the corpses. Viv had finally relented, though she was no longer taking care of Darcy. Malcolm had retrieved his daughter after he had overcome his shellshocked stupor.

He was nowhere to be seen nearby, though. Not in this room full of corpses. He probably hadn’t wanted Darcy to see the corpse of her mother lying broken and bloody before a column.

“Not many,” Rory said. “We’ve brought in most of them.”

Arelland started walking towards the entrance, the gears and hydraulics in his mech suit whirring and fizzing. “Remain here. I shall recover the others.”

“No, I’ll go with you. It’s the least I can do.”

“Nonsense. Rest, Rory. Tend to the ones here and to yourself. There is no reason to sacrifice yourself for the dead.”

Arelland didn’t wait for his arguments. The rollers under his feet whirred and he trundled out and down the stairs into the storm of Mana crystals. Rory found his eyes settling on Viv, who gave him the same unflinching look. Clearly, she agreed with the elf.

“Come on,” she said, taking his hand by her lone one. “You might want to see this.”

Rory sighed. “I don’t know if I want to see anything more…”

“Do you want to rest?”

Rory properly considered that for a moment. He appreciated that Viv wasn’t urging him in one direction or the other. She knew when to nudge, and when to simply support. His eyes fell on the stump of her left arm where Evelyn’s golden bandages had wrapped around to staunch the flow of blood.

“No,” Rory said. “Let’s go check up on the others. That’s where you were taking me, right?”

Viv nodded, a tight smile plastered on her face. “It’s not as hopeless as you think.”

They stepped past the group of dead bodies, where Rory made sure to stare forwards and ahead. The dead would receive all the attention they deserved in the funeral.

For now, Viv took him to Sue. Rory’s heart stuttered. In some ways, her condition was worse than death. Evelyn had to remove one of Sue’s legs and arms after the devastating attack from the Thunderclaw Knight had destroyed them. Apart from that, there was the nasty wound encircling half her waist and livid burn scorching half her face. She had suffered more than anyone.

Golden bandages had nearly mummified her in an effort to keep her alive. Only the slow rise and fall of her chest convinced Rory that the effort was successful for now. He didn’t want to doubt the efficacy of Evelyn’s healing, but those wounds were vicious.

“See,” Viv said. “She’s alive. She’ll make it.”

Rory’s eyes fell on the woman kneeling next to Sue’s prone form. May hadn’t looked up when Rory and Viv had arrived. Her eyes were focused on her unconscious sister. He recalled how Sue had accidentally caused May to lose all her memories. So much cruel fate at play.

“Rory.” Viv nudged him.

“Oh, sorry.” Rory cleared his throat and approached May. He knelt down beside her. “Hey, May. Are you doing alright?”

May looked up only after a while. Rory had never heard her talk, and now was no different. There was a sad smile on her face, and as Rory’s heart broke, he was partly relieved that May would always be there to look after sister.

Rory got back upright. “What about the others?”

Viv took him around the main hall and the area where Evelyn had set up her infirmary. She and the hospital staff who had survived and weren’t severely injured were tending to those who were.

Among others, that included several of the former Neophytes Diane had managed to heal, Harlow and his broken arm, Ned who had suffered a crippling back wound, Dez’s injured entire left side of his body, and Miles’s dog, Jerky, who had hurt her leg trying to save Leo and Leanne. Rory grimaced. Adding the dead to the injured, their active party had been reduced to a third.

“Hey, man,” Dez said. His voice was weak. He was also wrapped in many golden bandages, though blood was still leaking from some of his wounds. “Honestly, for all that’s happened, I’m glad you made it out without getting hurt.”

Rory would have been happy to be injured a hundred times over if it meant the rest of them would have come out of the Thunderclaw’s attack unscathed. “How are you holding up?”

“Could be better.” He grinned sardonically. “But I’m alive, so I won’t complain. Do you know how many died?”

“Seventeen.”

Dez cursed softly. “I can’t believe we got hit that hard.”

“Me neither.”

“Focus on the present,” Viv reminded them. “The deaths are regrettable, but there are people who made it through. We need to help them, and we need to make sure this doesn’t happen again.”

Rory swallowed. “Absolutely.”

They talked with all the wounded who were conscious, focusing on providing some soothing words and assuaging what fears they could. Rory wasn’t sure how much it helped. While most looked to be making full recoveries, at whatever pace the healers deemed necessary, some of them wouldn’t survive even after medical attention.

One of the former Neophytes was succumbing to her wounds and Oliver was dying right before Rory’s eyes. Diane was looking more and more depressed by the second.

“I have brought all the dead,” Arelland said.

“Thank you,” Rory said. “You’ve been a lot of help. We won’t forget this.”

“It is the least I can do after…” Arelland looked away.

Rory frowned too. The chain of events that had led to their current circumstances had started with Mara, the self-proclaimed protégé of Arelland. Rory had been surprised to see her latch onto the Otherworlder as her main pillar of survival in the apocalypse, rejecting Rory’s proposal of living in the palace with the rest of them.

But according to Arelland and what little the Imp who’d been gloating outside of the palace, Mara had left her master. She had taken the heart of the Thunderclaw Knight with her, selling it to the Imps as part of her rebellion against Arelland. The Imps had found good use for it by bringing the Thunderclaw Knight back to life, then guiding the monster to the palace to assault Rory and his party to devastating effect.

“Do you know what the Imps are up to now?” Viv asked. “How soon will they find out their plan didn’t work, and how soon will they try something new?”

“I cannot say for certain,” Arelland said. “But it is safe to assume they know of your… of the failure of their plan. However, we will be visiting them soon. Perhaps we’ll find something interesting when we do so.”

“Why did you choose the day the war begins as the day to visit prospective merchants?” Rory asked.

“We’ll be in the area to carry out forward scouting and engaging advance elements of any Homeworlders in the area. Might as well investigate the options of our potential merchant partners.”

Viv grunted. “So there really is going to be a war, huh? Right on our doorstep too.”

Arelland nodded as the gears in his helmet whirred. “Your land will likely be quite contested. Securing it can provide a great forward base from which to launch attacks on the other side.” Arelland’s eyes got a worried cast. “I will try to prevent it from spilling too close to you.”

“Are you saying you’re already fighting?”

“Potentially. I am unsure.”

“Hmm, come with me,” Viv said, then started walking to the tower. Rory followed. He had a good grasp of what she wanted to see, and he was intrigued too.

They climbed the shaky staircase up to the highest floor. The Thunderclaw’s attack had broken open the top to reveal it to the elements, so they had to cluster under the portion of the ceiling still remaining to protect themselves from the Mana storm.

Rory grimaced as he looked around. This was where Mikey had been stationed. Rory could still hear the echo of the man’s scream as he was thrown down to his death.

“Do you see that?” Viv asked, pointing to the west with her good hand.

Arelland and Rory both peered in the direction she was looking. There were occasional flashes of light in the distance, like a faulty streetlamp flickering on and off. But it was too random to be a malfunctioning light, and the light’s colours kept shifting.

The streets of Hillhard were seeing their first battle already.

“It seems the battle has already begun,” Arelland said.

Viv rounded on him. She was nearly three feet shorted than his eight-foot height, but she stood up to him as thought she was a colossus and he was a mouse. “You’re not worried of what’s going on out there?”

Arelland frowned. “Should I be?”

“Your friends are fighting, aren’t they? Aren’t you afraid they might die?”

Arelland didn’t reply. Perhaps he had realized that flippantly saying he had nothing to worry about, even if he didn’t in truth, wouldn’t be the best idea. Not when he was standing above so many recent corpses.

Rory looked around. He might have appreciated the vantage more if it didn’t lay out the sheer extent of the damage and destruction they had suffered at the hands of the Thunderclaw Knight.

The gardens were ruined, destroying all the plants April had been carefully cultivating for the past week. Half the main staircase was buried in rubble and the front gate had been smashed to metallic kindling. Rubble and debris were scattered all over the courtyard, interspersed between the bits and pieces of destroyed Thundershells. Even from this height, the splotches of blood were all too visible.

There was only one blessing in all of this. Their Safe Zone was finally up.

Rory glanced at the enormous hemisphere of translucent golden energy surrounding the palace. “We can’t let this happen again.”

Viv nodded fiercely. “We won’t.”

“It’s not just being a merchant. Not anymore. The Imps won’t play fair. We need to take care of them.”

“You also need to establish your business,” Arelland said. “I understand the Imps are a concern, but you still need your storefront, recognition letters, a trading deal, supply line, and an enterprise.”

For a moment, Rory’s head swirled with thoughts of revenge. How would the Imps like it to have a monster unleashed upon wherever they were staying? Right at that moment, he’d have paid good money to see the Imps suffering the same pain and horror they had all gone through.

But he shoved those thoughts aside. They had more important things to take care of before petty revenge.

“Let’s go downstairs,” Rory said. “I think I know what to do about the funeral.”

Arelland nodded. He started downstairs. Rory was about to follow, but Viv pulled his shirtsleeve.

“Give me the new Sigil,” she said. “The one from the Thunderclaw.”

Rory considered her for a moment. Then he handed her the Sigil of the Thunderclaw. Viv observed it for a moment, then absorbed it. He wondered if she was replacing her Sigil of Electrostatic Resilience.

Lightning sparked all along her arm, the bandages wrapping her stump falling off burnt to a crisp. In place of a bleeding wound, there was now a covering of metallic blue rocks, tony sparks of electricity popping and flashing on the gleaming surface.

“Let’s go,” she said, and led the way downstairs.

Rory followed. It was time to lay the dead to rest.