Chapter Two

Valora One

Valora played the game that night and won again. When she had first arrived at the fortress of Brecastell Edmonda, her faith had wavered. She outnumbered the enemy two to one, however the keep was heavily defended, and they were more than ready for her arrival. At first, she had simply considered sieging and starving out the defenders, however seeing they were kentu she immediately disregarded the plan, knowing they would no doubt eat their own before submitting to an invading force.

The Captain of her guard, known as Claw Silver Teeth, a hound who was utterly devoted to her, had suggested bombarding the keep with fire to burn them out. This plan was something Valora could not endorse, while burning the defenders alive would be faster, she found it distasteful as well as a failure of her duty. She had also been forced to leave many of her larger machines of war back on Nesskar, else her return home would have been heavily slowed. Besides, she did not wish to damage the defences, as the fortress was instrumental to the defence of the Midnight Kingdom from the lawless Otpa Sjee.

In the end, Valora had no choice but to do it the hard way, she sent her few but elite elven troops she called the Sha Tee, to climb the walls under the cover of darkness, while she and her remaining forces charged the main gates. When the alarm was finally sounded, the elven attackers had split the defending forces leaving few to hold the gate. Valora personally led the vanguard as the gate was brought down and her forces charged through the fortress. She disliked bloodying herself, yet her troops loved the sight of their Princess alongside them, it made them fight like they were possessed, as well as added to Valora’s legend. The battle in total took ten hours of brutal wall to wall fighting, Valora and Cenric standing shoulder to shoulder every step of the way. Finally, the defenders retreated to the citadel, where they held out desperately as the rest of the fortress was captured.

Cenric, Valora's right hand, then led the Sha Tee to scale the citadel, while her main force used a battering ram to bring down the gate. Having not learned of this trick from mere hours ago, it had not taken long for the defenders to be caught between the two groups, where finally their leader surrendered. A few holdouts still resided, however they would be dealt with within the coming hours, as another fortress had fallen to Valora.

Valora could not be happier of her success, yet when she looked upon the dead, both her allies and enemies, she felt her joy turn bitter. Part of her longed for the battlefield, finding it freeing from all the rules and pointless discussions of court. A place where her mind was free of chains, allowing her to be herself, on the battlefield, nothing but victory mattered. The main thing souring her moment of happiness was not the bodies though, it was a deep desire to relieve herself, yet she knew there was a low chance of that in so many layers of thick armour.

 The rebels of Brecastell Edmonda had been defeated, adding one more victory to Valora’s countless before, this being the first of such on the mainland. She felt her shame be washed away with each victory; a sense of hope inside that her lost honour may still yet be regained. Her men, mostly consisting of hounds, cheered her name as she made her way down from the citadel. She lifted the banner of her House, a golden lily with a sapphire at its centre. She buried it within the battlements, as they chanted not her family name of Lilium, but her name like it was a war drum.

“Valora, Valora, Valora!” They chanted as she clutched the banner with her right hand. A hand joined hers, gripping hers tight before raising the banner into the air. She turned to see Cenric at her side, a rare smile upon his face. She grinned back at him as she let out a war cry of her own, feeling her mind flood with a euphoric feeling of belonging as she looked down at her army, who looked upon her like their Goddess.

With the battle over, and the fortress filled with the countless dead that refused to submit, Valora made her way from the graveyard to where her siege camp had been set, the kentu leader being dragged behind her. Close behind her was her royal guard, a force that originally protector her out of formality, however since the end of the Immortal War she had slowly morphed them into extensions of herself, who moved to aid her like shadows. Cenric, her right hand, walked alongside her, coated in more blood than any other, none were his equal in her force. She often thought he would find more joy fighting in the Otpa Sjee, with his skill he could no doubt cut out a large slice for himself, yet he always insisted that his place was ‘by her side’.

At the height of the battle, once she had claimed the second level and forced the defenders to retreat to the citadel, she had seen riders approaching her camp bearing the flag of a silver oak, that signified they rode under the King’s orders. She had made note of it, however, did not act as there was a battle to be won and politics could wait. As she approached her tent however, she saw they were eagerly waiting for her. At the sight of Autems, she gritted her teeth.

She did not speak to them, simply walking past and into her tent where her guards took up position guarding the outside while Cenric joined her within. She was angrier about them delaying her chance to rest and relieve hours of pent-up fluids than anything else. If she was going to play politics, she would need to look more fitting than a blood covered monster. She was happy to make them wait, knowing it was a way of showing dominance over them. Two young kentu girls waited for her inside, their red eyes going wide as they stared at their Princess whose body appeared as a shadow of its former self. Her usual stunning hair and flawless white skin was entirely coated in blood. Small cuts and scrapes covered her body from where enemies had gotten lucky, or simply explosions had flung debris in her direction. Her usually white armour from the silver it was made of, had even been breached in three locations around her ribs, where large axes wielded by hound's had clashed with the armour, breaking through much of its defences with their sheer might. Valora would need new armour created, her current suits protection ruins were beyond spent.

“Make me presentable!” Valora ordered as the young kentu girls rush forward to start unclasping her armour and removing her helm. The two girls had been ‘gifts’ given to her from two separate victory's she had won. One from her exile on Nesskar, the other gained in her recent crusade in the Sjee to recapture and discipline those that had rebelled. Both girls had been considered royalty within their clans, the daughters of two separate rulers that would never again rebel for fear of their daughters suffering for their disobedience. Reine and Cosette were both kentu, a humanoid race with dark purple skin, red eyes and covered in strange birth marks the colour of crimson. The race had a pair of long sharp fangs that showed even when their mouths were closed. Their bodies had small flaps along their necks that allowed them to collect moisture from the air, a gift from back on Eden where they lived in the deserts to the South where water was scarce. They were shorter than elves, yet surprisingly agile, their movement often compared to cats.

The girls looked very meek at first appearance but being kentu they were surprisingly strong, enabling them to hoist the armour off Valora’s body before helping her out of her clothing. Cenric watched, keeping his eyes level with hers, having learned what happened if he looked for too long. His body was covered in more blood and grime than her, however he was not royalty, so they expected less of him. Being just a Pendula, he was often overlooked in favour of the more important Autem’s.

“Do you know why they are here? It's been so long since we heard anything from the capitol, I was beginning to think they were happy to leave me cleaning up their mess?” Valora asked as she resisted the urge to tap her foot, her mothers scolding still ingrained within her mind. Her body was left fully exposed, her servants eagerly cleaning the larger patches of dirt and blood, using small towels and warmed water they had prepared as instructed for her return. Nothing soothed Valora like a warm bath while her hair was massaged and cleaned, but the current situation removed any chance to relax.

“I know as much as you my Lady, last I heard from your mother were our orders to return to the mainland and begin reconquest of the Sjee.” He recalled, referring to the Otpa Sjee, the vast northern waste that was ruled by the Autems through name alone. “She also strongly advised that we stay away from the capital, however I did not think you needed such a reminder.” Cenric continued, his eyes glimpsing down for a second upon her incredible body before returning to her eyes attempting to hide it. While elves, especially Valora, were more willing to show their perfect bodies off than most races, as how could they hide such perfection, even they did not like to be stared at like meat. Valora however did not see his wandering eyes as at the mention of her mother, a sour taste entered her mouth making her want to spit on the floor.

“Perhaps she has figured out I am enjoying myself and decided to disrupt it? If there is one thing I know about that hag, she will not let me escape her sharp tongue long.” Valora spoke without care as there was no one she trusted more then Cenric, after over one hundred and thirty years, he had proven himself the most loyal of allies. She climbed into a bath feeling the steaming hot water upon her skin, sighing as it immediately begun easing her tight muscles. The two servants got to work scrubbing her body clean of the filth of war, before undoing her hair and braiding it once the smell of smoke and the thick grime had been removed. Valora almost took the opportunity to empty her bladder in the bath she was that desperate, but her noble upbringing made her grit her teeth. Cenric remained in the tent staring at her eyes, only occasionally risking a glimpse lower that Valora saw, however allowed as he had been particularly brilliant during the battle that day.

Valora’s mind thought through the possibilities as she wondered what the Midnight City could want from her. She had all but been chased out of the capital at the end of the Immortal War, punishment for her failure to capture the Third Shield. It had led to the final assault of the elven forces to be repelled so drastically, that they would never again go on the offensive. They spent the rest of the war clutching what little defensive victories they could, while the Empire burned the coast to the ground and many of their people turned on the elves and fled into the Sjee.

When finally her body was clean, her scrapes healed and hair once more braided, she stood from the water and demanded her travel armour be brought to her. The armour was far lighter and had far less protective magic on it, making it inferior to her other set, however this set was perfect for tiring talks and lazy rides between conquests. The servants helped her be fitted into her armour, before rushing around her body making sure everything was in perfect condition. When it was done, she turned to Cenric who immediately began circling her critically inspecting her like a work of art. The feeling of being circled like she was pray had always been alluring to Valora, even though she felt no attraction to Cenric, she couldn’t help but find a thrill in the way he scrutinized her. She wondered if perhaps her mother’s crueller and more unpleasant version simply made this feel better by comparison.

His eyes glanced over her for the slightest imperfection and where he saw it, he quickly altered it, such as loose strands of hair that he quickly cut with his knife or adjusting her armour to be more centred. Valora stood proud and noble in her glistening suit of silver armour designed by the greatest elven craftsmen. The surface shined so bright it was a weapon on the battlefield, as the sun reflected off her blinding the enemy. It had been formed perfectly to her body, leaving just a small section of room for clothing to be warn underneath. It had the weight and manoeuvrability of cloth, while having the strength and the hardness of steel. At the back of the armour was a long white cape, engraved was the symbol of the Midnight Kingdom, a silver oak with a white crown above its head and a single ruby buried within. Her hair had been braided into a long blond tail that ran down her back, stopping just above her waist, a weakness in a fight but she could never stand to cut her hair as she loved it dearly. Atop her head was a thin silver tiara with a single ruby buried within, much like the one on the symbol of the Midnight Kingdom. Her eyes were crystal blue with the faintest golden glimmer beneath, as her body radiated perfection. Many outsiders, and many within her people, claimed she was an avatar of Nara or perhaps one of her children, a fact she loved to hear despite the absurdity.

“How do I look Cenric?” She asked as he came to stand before her. He gave a slight grin before walking over to a nearby table where the armour from the battle lay discarded. He returned with a small golden lily with a ruby within the centre, that she carried with her wherever she went, as her most prize possession. He attached the ruby to the armour, where a small hole was left that she had put there herself, so the Lily could be with her on the battlefield. He looked up into her eyes with that same look of utter devotion Valora found amongst her soldiers, it was as if they were looking upon their very own Goddess. She could not help but feel undeserving of such devotion, especially when it had become clear her own House did not feel this towards her anymore.

“You look like our warrior Goddess, now don't let them push you around Princess.” He said with a bow, before walking over to the throne, that she hated so much for it felt like sitting on a broken rock. She quickly joined him, sitting upon it with her back straight and ready to fight with words while still sore from fighting with a sword.

“You may enter,” Valora ordered, loud enough for her guards to admit the waiting messengers. As soon as they entered, their eyes were entranced to her as if she was the only thing that mattered in their world. She attempted to hide the grin from her face as that was the desired effect, knowing that those who stared too long upon her would have their attention divided and be easier to bend to her own will. The two elves were clearly Autem like Valora, having pure blood, however both were missing the glow that was once so prevalent amongst their race, that made their skin aluminate even in the night. Valora had that glow and loved how it made her stand out in a crowd, yet hated how it made it difficult to go unnoticed on the field of battle. She glowed so bright, she was like a torch signalling out her position, very few were even half as bright. Eventually she learned her glow was quite effective in battle, seeing it often meant simple-minded opponents would see it and find her so beautiful; they were temporarily stunned allowing her to get them before they could recover.

“Princess Valora Lilium, second of her name, future Queen of Scarvo, Nesskar and Yult!” Cenric announced with a ferocity that Valora always admired. Technically she was not the future Queen, the King had not decided which of the many candidates would take up his position upon his death. Valora was the only member from clan Lilium who had been chosen, as even now having been disgraced, the King had not renounced her. All those chosen as candidates were expected to boast they were the future King or Queen, and the King allowed it. Valora knew she was never going to be Queen; she had caused too much shame to gain such hights, she would simply settle for cleansing her name of shame. Even when she was younger, considered the gem of the Midnight Kingdom, she always planned to refuse, she did not think herself worthy.

The two messengers fell to a knee in submission, only rising when she gave permission, where she begun the tiresome formalities of elven diplomacy. She gave her word she will not attempt to murder them unjustly; she asked them of their travel, and they ask her of her conquest. She offers them food and drink and asks of their personal lives. Even after half an hour of pleasantries and pointless tradition, they had only just finished, if they had been of a higher social class, they could have been there all night.

“I believe pleasantries have been successful, I must ask what has brought you so far north?” She asked giving a smile so stunning even the servants were forced to stare.

“We are here under the Kings orders my Lady; he humbly requests you returned to the capital with us, with immediate effect.” The elf on the right says who had clearly been the leader of the two. His ears were unnaturally big and the points almost reaching the top of his head like a donkey, no doubts being some physical alteration performed through magic to make himself more attractive. It was common for elves to alter their body through magic and concoctions in an attempt to make themselves beautiful, a powerful group called the Shapers held great sway offering such services, however often it simply made them look more hideous to Valora.

“I am sorry my brothers, but I have just started this new conquest and I cannot simply rush back South for political discussions. The first few months of a conquest decides many if its later factors, especially when it comes to aid.” Valora said using the term brothers to show she meant no ill will; however, she already knew her protest was in vain. If the King wanted her back, there was little she could say to weasel her way out of it.

“His Majesty said you might say that, hence why he wants to make you aware his time is coming to an end. With every day that passes, his soul grows weaker; he will likely be dead within a year.” The messenger spoke without a hint of sadness, his words leaving Valora dumb struck. Since the end of the Immortal War the King had seemed weaker, many suspecting his time was running out. For it to be so carelessly revealed, meant he was no longer capable of hiding just how close he was to Lady Death.

A long silence stretched out, the messenger attempted to speak but was silenced by Cenric with a single raised hand, causing him to glare at the lesser elf. Valora’s thoughts go inward, remembering the King. While elvan females had more rights than human females, it was still incredibly rare for a female to find herself as one of the Generals of the elven army. The King however had picked her out, having seen her effective leadership skills first-hand, he had not only made her one of his Generals during the war, but also named her one of his potential heirs to the throne. While her family had always tried using her to their own ends, the King had always been nice to her, having been like an uncle watching out for her and giving her gifts whenever the two met. When last she had seen him, he had been forced to send her away after her failure had cost them all so much. But even then, he had apologised profusely and had refused to have her executed like so many around him had demanded. Picturing the King old and withered, remembering the promise she made to him when they last spoke, her face filled with determination.

“I shall ride immediately; give me half an hour and we will ride to the capital without stopping, not even to rest.” Valora said without hesitation or conflict within her. Returning to the capital had not been what she wanted, she had a sinking suspicion she knew why the King wanted her to return. If his life was coming to an end, it likely meant an all-out war was about to begin, both in the political battlefield and perhaps even the literal one, as every House would squabble and betray one another. While it was rare for Kings to die, whenever it happened the ensuing chaos was always a bloody affair.

Before she could leave, she still had to finish her work with the fortress and so ordered her guards to bring in the leader of the rebels. The creature was kentu, as had most of the rebel leaders she had already put down been. He was forced to his knees in front of her, allowing her to examine his longer than average fangs and the sinister patterns that almost resembled a spider web covering his red face.

“What is your name, traitor scum?” Cenric asked with no small degree of disdain in his voice. The creature turned to him and spat, receiving a backhanded slap across his face from Claw. Usually, Valora would make them submit to her rule becoming an extension of her House and merging their forces into hers, however because of his pointless refusal to submit there was very few survivors left. The clear disrespect on the kentu’s face gave her no reason to prolong a pointless discussion, except there was one thing she needed answered.

“Why did you betray us?” She asked wondering if the same answer would be given that all the other traitors had. The entire island of Nesskar had revolted after the war, most of which were also kentu. Valora had bled to bring them back into submission, having asked this same question to each she had broken. In response the creature smiled at her, before saying through gritted rotten teeth.

“You're no longer the Gods chosen, the humans are smarter and stronger than you, so why should we submit to lesser beings. We were made to serve the strong, there's nothing strong about you anymore, you are corrupted, perverse, resembling nothing of your former perfection.” He snarled in the true tongue, showing no sign of respect that once permeated the other races. Valora simply nodded, before waving her left hand in a silent order. Claw grabbed the traitor around his neck, snapping it in one fluid motion.

“Just like the others, it seems like there is a pattern. I just don't understand why it is happening now. Nesskar has been brought to heel, the traitors should be losing support and hope, yet more and more are turning to rebellion. What drives them, is it perhaps a who?” Cenric pondered aloud as the two stared at the creature as it croaked its last word. “What do we do now my Lady?”

“The first thing I'm going to do, is finally use the privy, then we will ride for the capital. We will deal with whatever troubles have arisen there, once we are done, I will scour this entire continent of every traitor, until they will once more see us as the Gods chosen race.” Valora answered honestly, receiving nods of acknowledgement in return.

The messengers were given new horses and stood waiting on the edge of the camp, watching as Valora quickly prepared her forces for what was to come. Deciding it was a possibility her army would be needed, she ordered them to take a fortress known as Gaslon to hide their potential arrival at the capital. She had previously ignored Gaslon, as it was insignificant, mostly used to watch the Sjee and prevent tribes inhabiting the Syanor forest. It rested west of Brecastell Edmonda, out of the way of Valora’s bloody conquest north, but it would start bringing her army south to where she might be needed. She told them to take that fortress, then to move south to the capital. If they were not needed, she would send them new orders to continue the conquest without her until she could re-join them.

For a moment she had thought to leave Cenric in charge of her forces while she made her way to the capital, however she knew he would refuse like the stubborn hand he was. In truth the idea of not having him at her side, after almost one hundred and thirty years of constant companionship, made her feel more naked than she had been just an hour ago. Instead, she left one of her trusted guards known as Claw, a hound who was missing his right eye and had one of his large canines replaced by a silver one. He had one of the coolest heads of any hound she had met, he would lead them as instructed. She pondered if she should bring Reine and Cosette, before deciding to do so, not wanting to have the hostages too far from her grasp encase they were needed. With that, she mounted her white stallion and made her way to the capital, bringing only her trusted friend and four of her best guards.

The ride had been long and hard but effective. They stopped only once at Meo, much too Valora’s annoyance. Her fellow Autem were not as well travelled as them, looking half dead with so little sleep, that Cenric had told Valora he was worried they would fall from there saddles. Valora had insisted they sleep on the road and not within Meo, knowing that if they did, House Sorbus would no doubt descend upon her with pleasantries and invitations she could not accept. Valora was quickly reminded of her disdain for many of the Autem, when they had bothered her with their complaints of sleeping on the road. While Valora did not enjoy the discomfort, she saw little point in complaining and detested those who did.

She did not rest that night, instead remained awake and watching for any potential ambush, her mind running with the possibilities of why she may have been summoned. She doubted the King intended to name her his successor, while she had brought much glory to her name once more, the shame still hung over her like a veil. She wondered if perhaps there was a risk to his life, that perhaps he needed loyalist to keep his life from being ended prematurely.

Her pondering was interrupted when Cenric joined her. his eyes glanced over the horizon as he looked towards the endless north behind them. The two sat in comfortable silence, staring out over the open expanse of almost perfectly flat terrain, allowing them to see for miles. She felt his hand grip her leg, causing her to jump from the sudden contact.

“Your tapping again.” He muttered, causing her to groan inwards at herself. ‘Valora, you should know better’, her mother’s voice reprimanded in her horrid tone. “May I ask you a question Valora?” He whispered quietly, as to not wake up their companions or be heard by her guards. She did not wish to speak, however was curious as to what was on his mind, so gave a nod. “Why do you return to the city?”

“That is a strange question, I was ordered to by my King.” She replied simply, not needing to consider, what other option was there?

“You have a loyal army at your back, the Otpa Sjee is filled with war bands who bowed to no one and do as they please. You must know that I and most of your soldiers would gladly follow you, carving out a portion of this world in your name. Why would you return to the King that cast you away, that shamed you before the court? As well as return to your mother’s grasp, where we both know she will dig her claws in once more.” He spoke with more truth than he ought to, as well as speaking freely to her when others might hear, however she could not find it within herself to discipline him. The thought of betraying the King had not even occurred to her, not even at her most angry.

“I am not a traitor; I will not lower myself to their level and I expect you to have the same loyalty. While I do not agree with everything King Folas decides, he is still my King and yours. We swore oaths and made promises, while many are willing to forget that, I am not. An oath of loyalty last for life.” She spoke with passion, her anger to the traitors slipping into her voice. Yet, in the recesses of her mind a word came forth, Dovanga, the words of her House, of her bloodline.

“Forgive me, I spoke out of turn, and perhaps I'm about to again. I never swore any oath to the King, only to you and to your father. However, you and I both have seen the Midnight Kingdom is doomed. All we have done is heal fingers while the heart rots.” Cenric stated while turning to stare towards her with no shame on his face.

“If all I can do is prolong the inevitable then that is what I shall do. If you wish to be freed from my service, then simply ask and I will allow it. However, I have no intention of giving up and becoming a traitor, my loyalty is eternal.” She stated with renewed determination, her eyes searching Cenric’s. His eyes hardened, his doubts melting away.

“In that case, we shall burn alongside the Kingdom together.” A slight grin formed on both their lips; their fates decided.

The walls of the Midnight City were inspiring, they were made of living root sung from the world tree that nestled at the heart of the city. The roots have been sung into formation, creating a sturdy living wall that healed itself even amidst a battle. For miles around the southern wall there was nothing but open land and wounded earth. Even where the woodlands began had been left pillaged and burned to the ground, with very few living trees amongst the charred remains.

Several parts of the wall remained open, as even after forty-seven years the roots had struggled to fill all the holes the war machines of humanity had used to tear them down. The ground surrounding the city was still churned, having grass growing atop but the ground had not levelled. The deep wounds in the earth remained, reminding all that came of the elf’s brutal defeat.

The city was a melting pot of culture, all the races that had joined the elves on their exodus from Eden were allowed within its walls. Most races created their own territories on nearby islands, or ventured into the Otpa Sjee, where they could battle endlessly amongst themselves. The capital mostly consisted of the more civilised and controlled amongst each race, whose minds were designed for more than simple warfare. Crowds of creatures, both dominated and the free, rushed to the main street that leads towards the heart of the city. By the time Valora and her group reach the gates they found it nearly impossible to get through the crowds.

The buildings within the city were all made from parts of the world tree, each one of them sung into creation by the elves. The Singers sung the roots that ran beneath the city to the surface, forming them into shells that materials were then wrapped around, giving the appearance of pure white. Most buildings and structures within the city were white, matching the silver that coated the buildings at her centre, where the nobility lived surrounding the world tree.

The world tree was so large Valora had heard it said it could be seen from across the sea on mainland Eden. It towered into the sky, a giant beacon of nature that stood unbreaking before the changing world of iron. While much of its insides had been sung into being hollow chambers, were the leaders of the Midnight Kingdom ruled from, even they had not been able to reach the top of the tree that rose above any mountain on the continent. Its beauty was beyond compare, the bark a silver and white that sparkled in the moonlight, illuminating everything for tens of miles in the glow of light when the sun set.

Its branches were so large the entire city, the biggest city on all Scarvo, did not reach even quarter of the smallest limb. Because of how thick the branches were, the sun could not reach the city below leaving it in perpetual twilight. Many of the residents had taken to a nocturnal schedule, using the brightness of the tree at night as a replacement for the sun and then sleeping during the day, when no light touched the city as even the sun could not defeat the world tree. Each leaf was the size of an entire building, when they fell they were used as construction material or as decoration. They were even sometimes sold across the seas to the Tillian elves, the Autems ancestors that remained on Eden enslaved by the humans.

Valora saw a large force of silver clad elves, with tower shields larger than their entire bodies, waiting at the entrance. Immediately one of the guards took the reins of her horse, guiding her and Cenric into the centre of the force.

“I see things haven't improved?” Valora asked the guard, now realising it was Captain Norton, Captain of the Silver Guard. The Pendula looked back at her, a hardness she had not seen in his eyes before, not even during the siege.

“There standing on the edge of a knife, we have already put down five riots this year, it's only a matter of time before the whole city goes up.” He explained as he brought her to the centre alongside Cenric, the guards forming a wall of silver surrounding them entirely with bodies and shields. The streets were packed wall to wall with creatures and Pendula elves of all shapes and sizes. Many had small engravings upon their cheeks of the House they served, while others were free, but all stared on with hatred.

Knowing the crowded city was too easy an opportunity for Reine or Cosette to escape into, Valora had sent the guards she had brought to take them through another entrance to the south. The southern gate of the city was rarely in use and Valora assumed her arrival would draw the attention of the crowds to the north.

As a unified unit, the guards begun forcing their way through the crowd, slamming their tower Shields into anyone who refused to budge. From her spot above her steed Valora could see the utter contempt within the eyes of all present, everyone from children to elder looked ready to burn their great city to the ground. All were filled with a misguided hatred for the Autem that Valora felt responsible for.

Valora felt Cenric’s leg brush against hers, as he rode as close to her body as he could. His short sword rested atop the back of his beloved horse Dunelle, something she could not say for her horse as she hated the dirty animals. He looked over to her and whispered beneath the sound of the guards stomping their way for the city, clearing a path by force.

“I don't like this; it's clear things haven't improved; they still see us as weak rulers!” His voice was a whisper so that only Valora could hear, however she did not want to risk being overheard so she simply gave a slight nod in response, as her eyes went back to searching the crowd for possible danger.

Guilt once more clutched at Valora’s heart, she wondered if things would be different if she had simply taken the Third Shield. Most nights she returned to that fortress, attempting in vain to outsmart the Wraith that held it. No matter what she did he always won, laughing down from atop the impregnable walls like a madman, fire launching from his grasp. He was the image of a mad God, drunk on power and blood. His legions of soulless, fearless corpses threw themselves against her army with complete disregard for their own lives.

She should have won, her people fought harder, fought truer, they deserved that victory. Nothing she could do would even slow down the cunning Wraith of the West. Even when he had won the battle and forced her to retreat, he would follow her to the walls of the Midnight City. Once more she threw herself against his army, only for him to once more lay her low.

“Are you OK my Lady?” Norton asked with concern, looking up at her from the ground.

“Yes, just remembering…” She started but could not finish. Norton nodded understanding fully what memories plagued her mind, as he too had fought in the final battle.

“The Gods abandoned us when we needed them most.” He spoke with the sadness of a once believer.

“They didn't abandon us, I simply failed them.” Valora spoke, mostly to herself.

“False shepherds!” A voice roared from atop the house to her right, where three large kentu stood with rocks in hand. Before Valora or her group could react, they begun launching them from the roof, one immediately striking Valora in the head with enough force to shatter bone. The force of the impact made her twist in her saddle as several more rocks slammed against her side, causing her to continue the roll from her steed and on to the floor. She landed with a heavy impact as her horse begun to scare, stomping his hooves in a frenzy, many times stomping on Valora. She screamed in pain, as even with her armour she felt bones shattering.

Valora’s head was clouded by pain, her vision covered in spots from the force of the rock. As she clutched her body into a ball to avoid any further hits from the horse, she could just about make out the horse charging into the rear of her guard. It did not slow, smashing through them, and continuing its way through the crowd looking for safety. The two guards that had been knocked down were immediately set upon by the crowd, who began striking their bodies with fists and whatever makeshift weapons they had to hand. The mostly kentu attackers were foaming at the mouth, one tore the helm from the elven guard and began striking his skull with a rock like a barbarian. His skull immediately split open, but the craze commoner did not stop until the body ceased flinching.

As Valora attempted to get to her feet, several broke through the new hole in their defensive wall and rushed to attack, seeing her on the floor to be a perfect target. The first one to arrive was wielding a pickaxe, as he lifted it high above his head, she sent a swift kick to his ribs that gave a large crunch, causing both him and Valora to scream as she learned her leg was broken. The next one that rush forward was wielding a simple butcher’s knife, however before he could reach her Cenric intervened and cut him down, cutting him from neck to waist in one fluid movement.

Cenric turned to look at Valora once, before turning to the hole in their defence and rushing to close it, slicing down any commoners that dared to raise their hands against their superiors. At seeing the new arrival, many began to flee, however he cut them down too for daring to strike against his Lady. Seeing the two guards had left them weak, Valora knew she needed to get into the fight so they could form a defensive rank to move, however even with her elven healing she had taken too many large injuries to heal. Needing her legs the most, she funnelled her healing there first, her brain feeling slowed and drugged, she couldn’t remember why.

She looked around to see how the rest of the defences were holding, seeing that other than the hole in their rear, the guards and their tower shields were keeping the commoners from entering. They stood shoulder to shoulder, forcing back all those who dared to try. Her eyes even went too Norton, who stood at the head of their force with his own tower shield attempting to hold back a particularly large kentu. Finally feeling her wounds begin to heal, she tested her leg finding it weak but at least she could stand on it. She drew her short sword Mistress Death, as she limped her way towards the rear of the guard where Cenric stood alone, waving his blade like a madman, severing limbs and throats of any who dared to come into range.

As Valora arrived, she too began swiping and slashing without any of the usual finesse, her whole body felt slower and weaker than ever before. She caught Cenric’s eyes, finding him full of rage and clearly horrified when he looked upon her. Struggling to even stay on her feet, Valora did all she could to help, however it was clear Cenric was the only reason their portion of the wall remained. As Valora took in her surroundings, she noticed the fighting was not only against them, but seemingly different portions of the crowd had begun fighting amongst themselves likely not even knowing why.

“We have to force our way into the building to the right!” Cenric ordered as loud as he could over the screams of deranged battle. Immediately, those to Valora’s left began shoving their way into the crowd, however her slowed mind made it difficult to understand what they were doing as from her perspective they were pushing left. As her brain tried to understand, she felt Cenric wrap his arm around her waist as he practically carried her towards the building, as they forced their way through the commoners. Valora turned to look at Norton, only to see a large horse still within the centre, slowly trotting completely calm and at ease even amongst the madness. It followed them as their force slowly bash and cut their way towards the building, before kicking the door down and rushing themselves inside.

As soon as they got inside, Cenric pulled her towards a large table where he rested her upon it, before turning back towards the door and rushing to help her allies secure the building. Ten of the Silver Guard remained outside, forming a half circle around the entrance, making sure the building could not be stormed, while also allowing what Valora now realised was Cenric’s horse to not be consumed. The rest of their force rushed to block every window and door on the building, while Cenric led three elves up the stairs with a bloody vengeance upon his face.

Valora's mind wavered, the pain of her leg’s bones being reset, combined with her head feeling as though water was running down her face. She had not even realised she had collapsed, unable to explain why the room was now on its side, her eyes drifted closed as out the corner of her eyes she saw a crimson river flowing across the table.