Tara felt as though they had been marching for days when, in reality, it had only been a few hours. What had taken days was gathering enough warriors to join her cause. She knew her warriors were feeling the same way. Though she tried to ignore it, she could hear their complaints. As the continued to march, the complaints about distance turned into complaints about her.

"She's too young for this."

"That girl is incomplete."

"She doesn't deserve to be our leader."

"Remind me again why we're following her."

"I couldn't tell ya."

She bit down on her lip to keep herself from turning on them. Oh, how she craved for their respect. She had tried to be nice in the beginning, promising them glory, but that had quickly translated to weakness. She moved to fear. It had taken a while and many killings to get them to follow her. Tara knew the only reason many of her warriors followed was because they were afraid she would kill them.

She would not deny how badly she wanted to scream at them how she was doing this for them; for the good of the Terpolite people. The Dark King could lead them to victory over the Lyriumians; over that Queen who had abandoned her. They did not deserve her respect. They deserved nothing but her anger and fury. It was the only way they would continue to follow her.

It would be difficult. That much was obvious. But she would do it. She would be the one to release the means of destroying the immortal Queen once and for all. When that had been completed, she would rule as Queen of the two god worlds. That would teach everyone to respect her and her power as they – and by 'they' she meant that Queen – should have done back at the Academy.

A roar of voices sounded from not too far away. They were approaching whoever had come to defend the crystal. Tara did not care for the crystal. Gaining it would be a bonus. There were only two things she was after, and she would gain them no matter what.

When the Terpolite army stood before the army of Dreamas, Tara took in a deep breath. She readied her weapons and wrapped the reigns of her horse around a wrist, so she did not fall off. With a roar of her own, she raised her fist. The battle had begun.