Azrael sat on the chair she had plucked from one of the adjacent rooms and stewed in silence. Teyva had survived her encounter with Rani but the very forces that drove the world had punished her for it. The world itself really was against the Azar, wasn’t it? She twirled the knife between her fingers, looking at the piles of white dust that lay scattered across the ground, soaking up the blood left behind. The loot had been what she’d expected, but that wasn’t really what she was after. She just didn’t like leaving messes behind. She rested her elbows on her knees and exhaled, “Just be careful, Teyva,” She murmured.

A sudden crash shook the palace and her eyes flicked up to look for the source. Within seconds, wightlings had begun racing down the corridor, shrieking in delight as they searched for fresh prey. She thumbed her jaw and leaned back in her chair, watching Conrad glance around before turning to march in her direction. His unspeakable mount took a station at the entry, keeping an eye out for any surviving soldiers. Most of them had fled deeper into the sections of the royal palace devoted to the King’s family, probably waiting to defend the king to the last man. She tilted her head to the right and looked up into Conrad’s nigh-bestial face as he came to a stop in front of her, lowering his mace from his shoulder and resting it on the floor.

“The ice that woman made was tough,” He rumbled, “Deal with her already?”

“Yes,” Azrael said.

“What happened with Teyva?” He asked.

She let out a sigh and leaned forward, rubbing her throwing knife between her palms, “Obviously she dealt with Rani,” she said, “But the powers that be didn’t take kindly to it, she was forced to respawn further away from Osan.”

“Powers that be? I thought coming back to life was her own power.”

Azrael rubbed the bridge of her nose, “You had to realize there was more to it than that, the prompts, the messages, the way we can communicate from afar, it’s all connected to the forces that brought her here. Gods.”

Conrad frowned, “Glorified aspect beings.”

Azrael scowled at the ground, “No, bigger than that, Teyva interacted with something called ‘Fate the Destination of Souls’. Sounds like it governs the afterlife for the people of Orum,” She looked up at him and held his gaze, “There’s more, Gods I mean, and one of them is named Cycle.”

Conrad’s eye twitched, “As in The Cycle, the source of all this mess.”

“Got it in one,” Azrael said and got to her feet finally, glancing over her shoulder. Sari, Myranda and the rest of their gathered group were approaching. “Sari and Myranda will have to learn about it eventually, but it can wait for another time.”

“Agreed,” Conrad said, “Anything else?”

She turned to look at him, “Rani started the Cycle, Teyva’s taking it hard. She’s wearing the bones of the person who caused our people's suffering for thousands of years.”

Conrad closed his eyes and swung his mace angrily, “Shit, we should be with her! Isn’t there anything we can do to catch up?”

Azrael laughed, “Unless your winged friend can carry all of us at once, we’re a bit out of luck in that respect. My shadow powers don’t have that kind of range either. I’d exhaust myself before we get far. We’ll figure something out but we need to deal with the Elf King first, we have our orders.”

Conrad nodded, “You’re in charge,” and marched to a nearby wall to lean against it and he crossed his arms.

“And you’re fine with that?” Azrael asked with a raised eyebrow.

He snorted and looked her in the eyes, “Her Majesty made it clear, just don’t fuck this up or I will bring my own idea of order to this mission,” He said with a low growl. She returned his gaze with her own steely look. He was the first to break the eye contact, turning and smiling at Sari and Myranda when they drew close enough to speak. Sari rest her hands on her weapons and tilted a bit to the side, looking between the two of them. Myranda grumbled about her gown while the three newcomers that had joined them took in their surroundings.

Leo hesitated when he took in Conrad and then turned his eyes on Azrael. He cleared his throat and looked past the First General to the white mounds on the ground and then up at the woman. The Azar looked him in the eyes and rest her hand on her warden blade, raising her head a little.

“I hope you are worth the hopes that her Majesty is placing in you, Prince,” Azrael growled.

Leo swallowed hard and looked around, “Where is your Queen?”

“She has gone ahead to Osan to assist her father in fending off the humans,” Conrad rumbled, “The how is not your concern.”

“I understand,” The Prince said stiffly, “May I have your names?”

“Conrad Akos, Second General to Queen Teyva Akura,” Conrad said before breaking into a grin, “I am called The Devil.”

“Azrael Unabi, First General to Queen Teyva Akura,” Azrael clipped, “I am called The Shadow.”

“And what are those?” He asked, nodding to the piles of white dust.

“Royal Commander Irkev, Trainee Ascendant Nagya, and a portion of their retinue,” Azrael said coldly, “They were given the opportunity to retreat. Nagya crumbled under the pressure and consigned her comrades to death. Irkev died bravely.”

Leo looked down at the piles of dust and closed his eyes, setting his jaw. “Damn it, father.”

Azrael twirled the throwing knife one more time before slipping it into her belt. She looked Myranda over and pursed her lips, “A little fancy for my taste, but you clean up alright, High Priestess.”

“Fourth General,” Myranda corrected her and looked down at the robes again, sniffing, “I’ll have them redesigned when I can, I never realized how difficult it was to move in my raiment until I had a chance to wear something slimming. Damn these ruffles,” She grunted and adjusted herself one more time.

Azrael turned toward Sari and then glanced at the men hanging behind her, “New friends, Sari?”

Sari shifted on her feet and threw her thumb over her shoulder, “Ex-captain of the guard and the disgraced personal physik to the Elf King, figured they’d make good subordinates for the Third General.”

Azrael beamed and nodded, “The Voice and The Cure, right?” She asked, glancing between the two women who nodded with smiles of their own. “Then the Four have gathered,” she said with a click of her tongue and scratched her head. “So be it. One more thing left to do.”

“You…” Leo hesitated, “You aren’t going to kill my father, are you?”

Myranda stepped up to him, put a hand on his shoulder and looked him in the eyes. “That’s up to him now, Leo, if he abdicates to you then he might get out of this alive,” She turned to Azrael, “Leo’s siblings… they’re just the King’s pawns. Can’t we go easy on them?”

Azrael crossed her arms, “I don’t like the idea of leaving Leo’s back exposed for a response-coup.”

Conrad growled, “Agreed. They are not innocent in this, they did not defend you nor did they try to stop your father, any Justicar worth the title would have held them all accountable for what has been done,” He glanced in Azrael’s direction, “But! I daresay they deserve the chance to defend themselves at your mercy.”

“Fair enough,” Azrael sighed, “Now how about we get a move on?”

Those gathered nodded grimly and they set off towards the throne room and the royal quarters beyond.

His Royal Highness Himat Broust sat in his personal chambers, his thin fingers coiled around the arms of his chair. His face was thin and worn and his hair had fallen dismally around his face. His children were around him, his sons and daughters all holding on to one another as the palace shook and trembled. Pale blue light flickered across his face as he stared up into the eyes of the life-sized projection standing before him. The bluestone hovering in the air providing a full likeness of Count Bertrand Otel. He squeezed the arms of his chair tighter and leaned forward, “Is there nothing you can do? Send us aid! Ascendants! We have given you everything you asked for and more! I have sent my ascendants to aid your men against Osan. What more do you want from me?”

Bertrand’s eyes narrowed, “And in exchange, Katal has given you wealth, comforts, and riches. I believe we have held up our end of the bargain. You have soldiers, do you not?”

Himat slammed his fist on the arm of his chair, spittle dribbling from his lips as panic blossomed on his face, “Soldiers? What good are soldiers against these monsters and horrors! That damned girl was right! There is an age eater here and it’s come to end me! My rule! Centuries of glory cut short by freaks!”

A scream erupted in the hall outside, the sounds of battle were painfully short. Lives ended in an instant as the gurgling wheeze of a passing life echoed through the doorframe. Himat scrambled to his feet, “Bertrand!” He bellowed, “Do something!”

The illusory figure turned away from him and looked to the door, “I am. I am putting a face to a name.”

The doors burst open and four figures strode inside. The first one on the right he recognized immediately as Myranda Wylafon, she wore her full raiment that he had gifted to the High Priest. The King sank into his chair, the High Priest was dead, then. The next was an orcish woman with icy eyes and thick braids. The one after that was some manner of black-haired half-man that had the odd look of that Conrad fellow that had come with the Azar Princess’ party. The final member of the group was the second Princess herself, Azrael. He swallowed, “What-” He was cut off by Bertrand’s raised hand. The Count crossed his arms behind his back and looked down at the group in silence.

“Count Bertrand Otel,” Myranda hissed, holding out her hand and conjuring up an ornate black-metal staff that she gripped tightly.

“Myranda Wylafon, who are your friends?” The Count asked.

“We are the Four Generals in service to Queen Teyva Akura, I am her first, Azrael Unabi” Azrael growled, “I’ve been looking forward to seeing your face, Bertrand. After you ordered Conrad here to kill me.”

Bertrand’s posture stiffened and his head jerked toward the dark-haired man, “Conrad Wale? You’re alive?”

The bestial man stepped forward and lowered his mace, “Conrad Akos now, reborn by the grace of my Queen.”

Bertrand turned back to Azrael, “Then you are the Demon Messenger.”

“Azar, you racist pigshit,” Azrael snarled, “I was sent by my father to offer peace to the humans.”

Bertrand sniffed, “A peace treaty would imply equal standing, which you do not have, Demoness,” He glanced at the Orc and frowned, “And you are?”

The orcish woman licked her lips, “Your men marched through the forest and razed the orcish settlement, my people’s home, I am Sari Troud, and I’m looking forward to filetting you,” She snarled, drawing her knives and gripping them tightly, “Ill make it last.”

“Charming,” Bertrand grunted, “And your so-called Queen?”

Conrad barked out a laugh so loud that even his comrades looked at him in surprise, “Oh! Right! I have one last report for you, Count Bertrand!” The fallen knight leaned on his mace and shook his head, “Our Queen, who was taken in and cared for by the king and people you now wage war on. She is the hero you’ve been waiting for.”

The Elf King couldn’t see Bertrands face, but he could feel the twisting rage that boiled underneath the man’s skin. His shoulders tightened and his fists clenched, “So it’s true, the Hero has joined with the Demons. So be it,” He hissed and raised his head high, “I see you now and I know your faces and names. Azrael Unabi, Conrad Akos, Sari Troud, Myranda Wylafon, and your leader, Teyva Akura. I know you now and I will not forget you. Once my army is done putting the demons in Osan in their place, I will excise the rot that is your presence on Orum.”

“You lay a hand on my sister and I will-” Myranda started only for Bertrand to bark out a laugh.

“I am not so debased and barbaric as you creatures,” He said, “Anya’s life is safe with me, but she will know of your betrayal,” He sighed and shook his head, looking past the group of four at a young elf that Himat hadn’t immediately noticed. Leo, his son, who had taken the Dark Priestess’ side. Why was he here? The Elf King blinked, confusion, stress, and madness addling his mind. Bertrand tilted his head to the right thoughtfully and nodded, “I see what is happening here, if this is the Hero’s plan it is a good one. Do what you want, the Elves have served their purpose.”

Himat shot to his feet, “Bertrand! You can’t be serious!”

Bertrand looked over his shoulder at Himat and shook his head, “For your sake, Himat. I suggest you abdicate while you can. You may live to see tomorrow that way.”

“Abandoning your minion so easily?” Azrael growled.

Bertrand looked back at her, “I will not waste Katal’s resources on a lost cause. My duty is to my people, something you obviously understand, witch.”

“I’m looking forward to the day we meet in person,” the First General rumbled.

“As am I, demon, as am I,” The count said and turned to Conrad, “Conrad, you are relieved of your duties. By Katali law you are-”

“I know the law, louse,” Conrad growled, “Begone. Live what life you can, I will make you kneel one day.”

Bertrand said nothing, he closed his eyes, shook his head, and vanished. The bluestone fell to the ground and Himat lunged to catch it, tripping over his robes and missing the crystal by inches. The crystal shattered and the glow faded from its broken pieces. He frantically crawled to his knees, trying to piece it back together. Somewhere nearby a voice called out to him, saying his name over and over. Finally, a hand grabbed his shoulder and shook him. Himat looked up into his eldest son’s eyes. Leo knelt down and took Himat’s head in his hands.

“Enough, father, it’s over.”