Black Steel: A Tale of Fire and Mind

In the aftermath of Maxwell’s and Vivienne’s departure, it became clear they’d been planning their breakaway. It was no sudden whim. Vivienne had been relentless in her training, longing for every piece of information and advice Seraphina could provide. Reggie and Seraphina had attributed her zeal to her sense of responsibility as the only trained Aetheral against the Emperor. They could date her change back to when she figured out through Lucian’s teachings Seraphina was pregnant. They had assumed she needed to feel ready, competent, to prevail even without anyone’s help, if need be.

Maxwell’s behavior hadn’t changed. Until they left Briohall, he’d spend his days in Lucian’s library, reading. About their land as it once was, when being an Elemental didn’t put a target on one’s head. About Elementals and how integral a part they used to play in society. About the Aetheral council that used to oversee the land, never ruling it, but keeping the peace between all parties. In the time they’d spent in Briohall, he’d gained as much knowledge from Lucian’s vast bookracks as his mind could handle and then some more.

After his tussle with Reggie, he’d been glum. Guilty not about his reaction, but about the effect it had on Seraphina. Every aspect of his behavior was in accordance to the events in their lives. While a fair actor, Seraphina could see through his pretenses and up until that last evening, he hadn’t lied. Not once. Which made Vivienne the designer of their flight.

Reggie and Seraphina had assumed Vivienne at the very least accepted their decision to stay on the path to Dawnfield. They were wrong, and Seraphina couldn’t remind it enough. Whether for the sake of strategy or the unborn child, Vivienne had decided Seraphina could not join her to the capital. Maybe there was merit to both reasons, but Seraphina considered them excuses. Three fortnights later, she still couldn’t let it go.

The fact she wasn’t an eligible choice for the assignments the Shepherds organized, not due to skill, but personal circumstances didn’t help with her temper. It became even worse when one night Brenton and Barkley had come back to the cabin they all shared with the request for his assistance.

“We need our own man in there. The Grovers are too wild for a delicate operation such as this.” Barkley had said from the head of the table.

Seraphina had scoffed as soon as he’d stopped talking. “Your own man? One moment you’re wary of him and the next you’re sending him off on a mission without me. Quite the jump there, uncle.”

Barkley hadn’t deterred. “Sometimes leaps of faith are necessary.” Mirabelle had cleared her throat so loud any passerby might have heard her, clearly not satisfied with his little words. “We asked Keira for her input as an observer. All she had was praise for your method of conduct in Ironham, so…”

Surprisingly, Seraphina had simply nodded, no protests. Then she’d demanded to know the details. She’d found the plan to be mostly a solid one, to her liking, and had urged Reggie to go with it. Ten days later he found himself on the walls of Boatwright, overlooking the imperial force of the remaining hundred men camped out by the gates. Martin stood by his side, his eyes half closed, defeated by the sight. The horse master, like many in the outskirts of the empire, had never seen a group of soldiers larger than twenty, thirty units at best. Even fewer had gone against them and lived to tell the tale. It never boded well for anyone who had witnessed a gathering of militia.

“Are you sure it’s going to work?” Martin asked, hunched behind the battlements next to Reggie.

“I’m confident our people in the main hall can deal with one man.” Reggie looked down at the sleeping imperials and motioned to them. “I’m pretty sure I know what they’ll do when we open the gates, but…” He sighed and knelt next to Martin. “…it’s the rest, inside these walls I’m worried about.” He answered honestly. “You know the people. Will they rally with us?”

“Make promises you can uphold, and they will. We’ve all grown weary of this siege. Too long it’s been. They’ll follow the one who provides for them.” Martin said and Reggie glanced at the man. Only his core characteristics fit the description Seraphina had given. The siege had brought both the man and the city to their knees.

“If it is as you say, all will be well.” Reggie replied and rose from his crouch. “Come, I’m eager to get this over with.”

Martin smiled standing up too. “You mean eager to get back to your wife and unborn child.” Ever since Reggie told him of his relationship with Seraphina, hoping it would help to trust him, he would sneak such remarks into his speech. Whether relevant or not. “I still find it hard to believe. That ruthless woman with the insufferable temper…Any idea how much trouble she caused me the last time she was here?” Though his words were uncomplimentary, his tone and smile spoke loud of his respect, if not affection.

Reggie still felt the need to defend her. “She’s a master of her profession. No daft assassin has stayed alive as long as she has…” Martin almost cut him off. “…Max had her to keep him in check.”

“No one has ever spoken truer words.” Rigby said behind them. The unofficial leader of Rachdale, the nearest hive, was the orchestrator of the upcoming coup. The people knew him, he’d provided for many, so the councilmen in Hollow Grove had chosen him as the banner head, ready to unite the city, should they succeed in their efforts. “Everyone’s in position. Ready, lord Reginald?”

He ignored the title. He felt no lord, but the roamers stood high in the eyes of Shepherds, more so the hivespeople. Seraphina had been well regarded by all who knew of the twins' work, but nowadays, everyone in the League knew her through the empire's sketch. As her partner, both in life and combat, the Shepherds extended some of that respect to him. “As ready as I’ll ever be. Let’s go.”

During the first winter of the siege, the Viscount pulled all patrols from the streets. He wanted to protect himself and his own. The cavern deep in the mountain, filled with ample fare as the twins had discovered in their last visit, ensured his selected few were dealing well, but it created havoc in the streets. Once the council envoy from Embersummit settled in Hollow Grove, they worked hard and on the low to gain the favor of the people. It’d taken great effort from Rigby, time and a large amount of supplies, but they’d managed it. Slowly, they snuck people into the citadel and won over individuals who’d grown jaded of the long-term confinement, but were also close to the Viscount. At long last, enough people had turned that allowed few to no other casualties than the Viscount.

Reggie, Martin and Rigby walked the empty streets till they joined their men. The council needed to keep the peace within the walls so the main hall would assume the famine had exterminated the people like poison did to vermin. By doing so, they hoped the guard would let up, trusting in the strength of the citadel’s walls. It took most of the latest winter to affirm their hopes true. Long before Reggie and the others had arrived in the Grove, the Shepherds had confirmation and they’d prepared for the next part of the plan. They had it ready before they sent out Reggie.

They could do it without him. The councilmen, though, insisted one of their own should be there to coordinate all parties. An individual not connected to the Boatwrighters like Martin or the hivespeople of Rachdale like Rigby. Someone with objective judgement and no personal strings to the city. Barkley and Brenton had the twins in mind in their months of planning the coup with the rest of their peers, but Maxwell had set on a different path and Seraphina was unable to partake in battle when it came down to it. There was no time to spare, so they went for the next on their list. Reggie.

“Lord Reginald, master Rigby, everything is in place.” A man said approaching them.

“Can you spot Darius?” Rigby asked the man, who nodded. “And the weapons? You have them?” The man nodded again and tapped on his waist where his newly acquired sword hung ready, the tip covered in slime. Rigby glanced at Reggie who gave his go-ahead. “Very well. Give Darius the signal.”

The man sprung on his heels and ran to the nearby tavern. Reggie and Rigby looked up and soon saw light come through the window on the third floor. “That’s our cue. Let’s be off.” Reggie said and whistled to their people. Thirty men and women walked with him and Rigby north, towards the entrance to the sewers where they’d cut the grates underground many days prior.

They climbed down in silence and started trudging through waste and slime. The stench was strong and foul, making many vomit, Reggie included. Before they could move forward, they all lifted their shirts to cover their noses and numb the nasty odor. It had little effect, but helped nonetheless. They carried torches to spot the markings carved on the walls and find their way to the egress closest to the barracks. The large and seemingly heavy lid was lifted and one after one they climbed up. A boy, bulky despite his youth, waited for them. He gave them the keys to the barracks and they shooed him off, away from the impeding ruckus.

They moved stealthily, yet not like Seraphina or Vivienne, and swiftly. They opened one door of the building and while Reggie stayed with half their force, Rigby took the rest to the other side. They crept inside and waited for their comrades to appear. Once they did, all torches came alight and they started banging their shields.

It startled the soldiers and they came awake, reaching for their weapons. But they found none. Darius’ boys had slipped in earlier and collected all weaponry, equipping their own. They shared puzzled stares amongst themselves. Their bodies betrayed them as the fear made them jerk nervously. All their gear nowhere to be found, only their clothes remained.

“Easy now, boys. We’re not here to hurt you.” Reggie said and threw his hands up. Everywhere he looked, he met disbelief.

Rigby closed in on the other side of the room. “The Viscount, the man who hired you, is taking his last breaths as we speak. You cannot stop it, but there are people you can help. Your townsmen starve as the enemy’s lying in wait just outside the city walls. Please. Join us.”

Trembling hands and clenched fists were their only reactions. Reggie spoke again, more callous than before. “We are taking this citadel…” he closed the distance between himself and the nearest soldier. “…we are giving the city back to its people. Question is…” he trailed off and tried to look each and every man in the eye before continuing. “…will you spill more blood than necessary? Yours? Ours? Will you stay pawns of the empire?”

Rigby took his own turn. “Have you no family outside this Hall?” It caused many to look down. Not everyone in the room were mercenaries. “Do you value the lives of the nobles more than your family’s? Even though the ones sworn to protect the people hide away in here, caring little for the famine that plagues their city? Your city?”

The man closest to Reggie approached him. “Trade one tyrant for another. That’s what you ask. You can’t feed them. You can’t keep your promises.”

“We have no proof to give.” Reggie replied. “Not right now. Once the imperials are done for however…”

“Do you have any family outside the citadel?” Rigby insisted. None answered verbally, but their bodies did. Nervous fidgeting and the exchange of glances spoke louder than words. “If you do, you’ll see them, alive and fed, the moment we open the gates to the citadel. Until then, you have only our word.”

“You have our weapons. Our master’s dead.” One man pushed his way to the front. The specks of grey in his hair betrayed he was the among the oldest, even though his skin lacked wrinkles. Or perhaps his scars covered them. “Possibly return to my family or certainly die.” He looked back to his comrades. “Is there really a choice?” He walked to Reggie and extended his arm. “If your friend’s telling the truth, and we’ll see about that, Goram stands with you.”

Reggie grabbed Goram’s arm and smiled, before looking back at the rest of them. “And you? What do you say?” One by one, they came forward and nodded. The most skeptical stepped up last and Reggie made a mental note to keep an eye on those. Glancing at Rigby, he was glad to see he wasn’t the only one.

What the Main Hall centurions didn’t know was that some individuals among them had turned long before that night. Goram and the very last man to shake Reggie’s arm were two of them. Failsafe to ensure the majority joined, with the least bloodshed possible. People to make the first move and open the road for the rest. Once the first wave joined, there were more people to encourage the reserved.

In the days prior to the operation, Martin had reassured Reggie, who most doubted him, time and time again that the soldiers would come to their aid. Reggie could see no evidence strong enough to suggest absolute success, but he’d spent only days in Boatwright while the others had spent most their life in its inner circles.

Martin’s words did prove true and before dawn, the Viscount was dead by Darius’ hand, his remaining advisors and family locked in the dungeons and the citadel gates were open. As Reggie crossed the wall arch, he watched the soldiers reunite with their families. The ones to turn last were the most emotional. Tears flowed freely and loud roars interrupted the serene silence of night.

“Maybe we were wrong after all?” Rigby said standing beside him.

“Wrong? About what?” Reggie asked confused.

Rigby smiled and nodded to the sight before them. “We assumed the worst because they didn’t easily join. Maybe we were wrong.”

“Maybe.” Reggie replied crossing his arms. “Assumptions have caused me trouble before, so I try to cut the habit.”

Rigby nodded and sighed. “How do we pull them from this and throw them into battle?”

“We tell them the truth.” Reggie said and whistled to get everyone’s attention. With a little help from Rigby’s men, they all gathered before the two men. “Good people of Boatwright, as of tonight you are free. Free of the man the empire appointed to govern you. Free of the empire.” Reggie gave a pause when they started looking among themselves. “It is true, but only if you stay within the city.” Groans and scowls met his words.

Martin stepped in to stop the forming outrage. “Don’t fret just yet. Hear the man out and judge for yourselves.”

“The men and women behind me, people of the same realm, have been working in darkness to serve you. Make your life a little easier. Disrupt authority as much as they could so it’s not unreasonable. Tonight, you saw for yourselves…we took this city.” Again, Reggie stopped to let them consider his words.

Then Rigby took point. “We are glad you joined us, but our endeavours unfortunately haven’t come to an end. We still need your help.”

Reggie walked forward, through and past the crowd. He pointed towards the city gates. “Just outside these walls, the emperor’s minions await. Not to attack you. Not to pillage. To them, you’re not worth even that. They simply wait for you to starve.” He paused to unsheathe his sword. “We didn’t come here tonight just to give you back the city. We came to rid you of those imperials. The empire grew reckless and pulled most of their force away. A hundred remain. Now is our chance.”

One woman spoke up. “A hundred are still too many. How many are you?”

“Fifty-three inside the city. If the centurions join us, eighty-three. On the edge of forest, forty more await we open the gates and circle the imperials.” Reggie replied evenly and many gasped. “Tonight’s events are no whim. Our people have been planning it for too long. We were looking for the perfect opportunity and we’ve found it. We will move forward without you, but you improve our numbers and our chances for a clean operation.”

“Why? Why is tonight special?” A man in the crowd asked.

“It’s neither the night, nor the numbers. It’s the perfect opportunity because we have gathered some special individuals here. Elementals…if you please…” Reggie called and motioned to the thirty men and women that followed him and Rigby into the citadel.

At the sound of Elementals, more people that Reggie would have expected started fidgeting and looking over their shoulder in fear, proving Martin true. Again. There were Elementals in Boatwright. Ones the League hadn’t known about and rushed out of the city. He hadn’t known what an Elemental was, but once Reggie explained their concept, many names came to his mind that fit. Reggie was sure the people who wouldn’t stop fidgeting matches the names that came to Martin’s mind.

At Reggie’s call, the group standing beside Rigby dispersed so men and women of all elements came forward. Scorchers had fiery phantoms dancing by their feet. Dousers were bouncing water balls on their hands. Bashers had rocky projectiles floating in rings around their waists. Blowers were hovering a short distance over the ground.

The display had the crowd so hooked, they barely noticed Reggie speaking again. “Eighteen in total. Three of fire. Three of air. Five of water. Seven of earth. Behind the enemy line stand another dozen scorchers ready to cut their numbers fast and make the rest panic. It’s the largest group of Elementals gathered for battle. So far.” He paused to smile for the first time since the start of his speech. “Our odds are good. You can make them better. Unlike the empire, we don’t demand your help. Enlist you. We only ask for it. Will you rally with us?”

They did.

The last preparations took place during the day, under the burning summer sun. At midday, with everything ready, every man and woman who would soon fight went to sleep while Martin took the rest to the cavern the Viscount kept all the supplies. Without the use of ovens or any sort of hearth, they were to prepare meals for the fighters before they barricaded themselves in the citadel.

Just before nightfall, they opened the gates and out ran the flimsiest of them all, shouting gibberish. From atop the city walls Reggie watched as the frail man startled the drunk imperials and confused the rest. He wobbled towards the encampment, but no imperial reached for their weapons. He was too thin and malnourished, such was the depth of their plans, to pose a threat.

Rigby grabbed on Reggie’s shoulder, frantic. “Knock your arrows, he’s getting too close!” He yelled anxiously to the archers around them.

“Hold!” Reggie ordered and lifted his fist up so those who didn’t hear saw the gesture. “No archer can reach them from this far.” He said calmly to Rigby. “Besides, no one will mind him. Watch.”

The man stopped at the edge of the encampment and yelled something, before storming off towards the woods. Even through the distance and twilight, Reggie and the Boatwrighters could see men give out orders while the rest scrambled to their feet and soon everyone would be ready to march into the city.

On the walls, Darius gave the signal and a short time later loud bangs and the sound of sword against sword filled their ears. The ruckus prompted a large group of women and children to run out of the city and disperse into the long-unattended fields. Among high strands of wheat and grass full of weed, the hidden members of their force waited to escort them to safety. To the clueless imperials, every move seemed random, driven by fear and panic, but in reality, they had all been calculated. Down to the last detail. The only unknown variable was the imperials’ reaction, but Reggie provided an insight to it as well. All that remained was the ensuing battle.

“They didn’t chase him.” Rigby said with arms crossed. “No capture, no interrogation, no nothing. And then the escapees? I don’t get it.”

Goram answered for Reggie. “These are no watchmen of the empire like us. They’re her henchmen.”

Reggie nodded, knowing their kind well from his time in the imperial ranks. “Dale told them the common folk are storming the citadel. The civilians running out like that adds to lie. Don’t forget the big prize here is the city, not the citizens. They care little for the people and now the gates are open. They believe in their brute strength and have been waiting for this chance since they set camp. It’s the perfect bait.”

“They don’t know what’s coming, otherwise…” Rigby said chuckling and other around them joined. “I still don’t understand how they can be so stupid.”

Reggie shook his head smiling. “Pray to your God that the rest of them are too… Now, get out of here. You need to stay away from the action, we do the fighting.” Rigby nodded and hurried off the ramparts.

They waited.

As time went by, the army came closer to the city and the clash in the citadel grew thundering. It had the desired effect, as the fake screams and bangs kept the army’s attention locked on the citadel and not their environment.

Neither their back line.

Before the last man went past the city gates, twenty men had already fallen to the Shepherds hidden in the fields. They plucked out the individuals in the back silently, never more than one at a time, and dragged their bodies away before anyone noticed. The Shepherds then followed close behind and once every imperial was inside, the rebels initiated the main phase. Reggie and his squad were on their way down the walls when it happened.

He didn’t see it, but he knew the exact moment the first blocks of petrified mud struck down the last eighty imperials. The crush of their bones and their screams gave it away. He didn’t see the tar splashing the plaza, but he both felt and smelled it when the scorchers set it alight. The stench of burning flesh reached his nostrils and not even the stone walls could keep the heat away. He didn’t witness his comrades throw barrels of water to the blaze while the dowsers manipulated the liquid away from their enemies, but the sizzle coming from the other side of the doors leading to the plaza brought chills.

When the hissing died down, Reggie’s squad and the rest of the soldiers pushed open the doors and threw themselves into battle with whoever was still alive. He didn’t count kills. He didn’t notice injuries. He felt no fatigue. He didn’t have a mind for the men and women by his side. Only the target mattered.

No more planning. No more waiting. No more instigating the right events. It was about the moment. Staying alive longer than the enemy. Block. Dodge. Strike. Kill. Repeat. In any order. His time with twins taught him things the imperial army never had. No need for conscious thinking. Only action.

He stopped moving only when he found no one else in his path. Around him stood rebels in similar stances. His heavy breathing filled his ears. The fake ruckus in the citadel rung lightly in the back of his mind. At his feet laid dead all imperials and many rebels, his comrades.

Then cheers.

The Boatwrighters atop the walls cheered for their city was free. It all became a blur. Bodies carried away. Pyres prepared for the fallen. Casualties tended. Civilians accounted. He was everywhere. Barkley and Brenton had deemed him the missing link between all parties, a burden he didn’t take lightly and for that reason he had to tend to everything and everyone before he took a breather. The following day at midday, that moment came.

It was worse than he’d expected. When the battle rush faded, the pain surfaced. Bruises were already forming over his ribs. Dried blood stuck on his skin where he had cuts from when he’d held his targets’ swords close to his body, so they couldn’t swing them, nothing deep, but some had scrapped him causing him to bleed. His arms felt weak. His feet were heavy.

Rigby, Martin and Darius found him by the stables as he was stitching up a wound on the left side of his pelvis. He shook arms with each of them before going back to his work. “Twenty-two casualties…Fewer than I’d hoped.”

Darius nodded. “We were up against trained warriors and our only casualties were recruited civilians. It went very well.”

Rigby touched his son’s shoulder. “No, not well, my boy. We mourn dead.”

“Despite the help of Elementals, we still have many injuries as well.” Martin said approaching Reggie and helped with the last stiches. Darius remained silent, his head down.

Reggie gritted his teeth, nodding. “Far fewer deaths. Far, far fewer. Concentrate on that.” Martin cut the string and Reggie went to the basin to clean himself of the blood. “Do you think you can handle it from here on?”

“You and the other roamers did your part. Now it’s our turn.” Rigby said and Reggie breathed in deeply, relieved. “Will the others stay?”

“Not my place to say. Our orders were to assist in taking back the city. Ask them.” Reggie replied drying off.

“Off to the Grove then?” Martin asked handing him his shirt.

“As fast as my legs can carry me.” Reggie said grabbing each man’s arm in farewell. “The council will need to hear of today’s victory so they can plan ahead and I have a very impatient wife to get back to.” Rigby and Martin chuckled, while Darius shifted uncomfortably. His infatuation with Seraphina hadn’t faded.

“Move along then, lord Reginald. Can’t keep her waiting too long.” Rigby cautioned smiling, just as Martin whistled.

Before Reggie had gathered his belongings in his rucksack, a piebald mare came out of her stall. She stood tall and while thin, her muscles protruded nicely. Martin stroked her neck to easy her. “She may not look it, but Arrow’s a magnificent steed. Fastest one in the realm. The Viscount used her for the races against Mountmend before the twins disrupted their good relations. She’ll serve you well.”

Reggie couldn’t help admiring the beast. He put his things on the ground and slowly approached the horse. Light steps where she could see him. Palm outstretched as he stopped before her and let her sniff him. A short inspection later, she closed the distance and he rubbed her muzzle, going up, stepping closer. “Let’s hope I too serve her well.”

“You know your way with horses, lord Reginald.” Martin said, approval and surprise evident in his husked tone.

“Like with most animals, giving them respect and room to grow will earn you their trust. They act on pure instincts. Try to trick them and they’ll know it.” Reggie said stroking the horse’s mane and adjusted the saddle so it was a little loose. “Thank you. I will treasure her.”

They said their farewells once more and Reggie led Arrow outside Boatwright before he mounted. True to Martin’s word, the mare was fast. Her first steps were careful, a result of being confined long, but after a while, Reggie could feel her full, raw force underneath him as the scenery whizzed past him.

Arrow seemed almost disappointed when he had to direct her into the woods. She neighed repeatedly, making Reggie think she’d throw him off and keep running, but only stuck to her cries. Even nightfall didn’t stop them. He lit up a torch and kept going till the first watchtower. He knew it’d take them half a day to reach the town, but no matter his hurry, he couldn’t push the steed.

The watchmen greeted him by bowing their heads from afar and firm pats on the back when he recounted Boatwright’s events. They offered him food to eat and a bed to sleep, while also taking care of his horse’s needs. Dawn came and he continued his ride. Every hour he’d dismount and walk beside Arrow as she chewed on the apples he gave her, wary of the traps the forest held. At midday, he reached the second watchtower, but didn’t stop any longer than informing the watchers of Boatwright. In the evening, the same happened with the third watchtower and just before nightfall, he broke out into town’s clearing.

Upon seeing the openness, without Reggie to stop her, Arrow sped off. The Grovers still on the fields waved their hands at him, but he could not return the gesture or else he’d fall. He dismounted when they reached the gates and once in, he led Arrow into the stables, placing her by Nightlight who neighed excitedly until Reggie nuzzled her. He told the stable boy to fill the stall with hay, so Arrow would go back to her proper weight, and run off to the pavilion.

His eyes roamed the tables until they settled on Brenton and their usual table. While he and the rest hadn’t spotted him, until he reached the table, so many people stopped him for greetings, he was met with smiles. But the women were nowhere to be found. His heart raced as he shook Griffin’s arm. “Where’s everyone?” He asked trying not to voice his concern.

“She’s home with them.” Griffin answered as first Brenton, then Barkley, didn’t think a handshake enough and hugged him tight.

“All’s well, my boy. She’s just staying in these days.” Brenton said and Reggie’s eyebrow involuntarily shot up.

“Now, now, no need to be suspicious, Reggie.” Barkley said chuckling, but it did little to ease him. “Boatwright is free, I presume?”

Reggie nodded. “Yes. Twenty-two casualties. Civilians who took up arms. Many injuries, but not serious…”

Barkley interrupted him. “Tomorrow, you can report before the rest of the council. Go to your wife.”

Reggie didn’t need to be told twice. He thanked the two men before he ran to their house. He was out of breath when he stepped through the front door and startled Mirabelle. “Reggie! Dear Elements, you scared me.”

“Sorry, ma’am. I’m in a hurry.” He said and she rolled her eyes. He couldn’t bring himself to call her aunt, no matter how much she insisted. “Sera’s upstairs?”

“Yes, yes. Go on up.” She replied and shooed him. Before he reached the stairs, she heard her yell. “Lyn, come down please!” Lyn came upon him in the middle of the stairs. She hugged him and too pushed him up.

At the door to their room, he stopped to take a breath and ready himself for the scolding he’d hear. He pushed the door open and where he expected to have Seraphina demand reports on Boatwright, he found her on their bed, lying on her side over the tiniest child he had ever seen. Seraphina didn’t need to shush him so the baby wouldn’t wake. He was speechless. Frozen in place.

She surrounded the child in pillows and lifted herself up, before she walked to him. “Someone was impatient.” She said smiling. He grabbed her and spun her around, kissing her in the process. When he stopped spinning and let her down, she wiped his cheeks of tears he hadn’t realized he’d shed. “Come on. She’s waited long enough, don’t you think?”

Reggie could only nod, still dazed. Seraphina pulled him to the edge of the bed and rubbed his shoulders, gently pushing him down. He looked down just as their daughter yawned. It caused both him and Seraphina to chuckle. With one hand in Seraphina’s, he reached for the baby with the other. He touched her little feet, going up her small frame, and pushed the tuft of light hair off her forehead. So light he couldn’t tell if it was blond or ashen. But awe gave way to worry when he noticed her size. “Isn’t she too small?”

“Yes. She should’ve stayed in a little longer, but thankfully she’s doing very well. The medics and Roderick check on her regularly.” Seraphina replied and wrapped her arms around him, placing her head on his shoulder. “Another reason I wish Vivienne hadn’t left.” He nodded, still transfixed by their daughter. “Reg…are you okay?”

With great difficulty, he tore his eyes from the baby and turned his head to Seraphina. “Overjoyed. I’m sorry, I’m just surprised.” He paused to kiss her again and touched their foreheads together. “We agreed I could take up their offer because I would have time to get back and be here for the birth…”

“Normally, you would be, but I’m sure you know by now my family’s not normal.” She smiled and rubbed the back of his head.

“Our family.” He said and her smile grew bigger. It was the first time it felt right to acknowledge it. With Maxwell’s hostile antics and Brenton’s scrutiny it was rather difficult. The sleeping infant changed that.

“Our family.” She repeated. “We’ll just have to make sure you’re there for the next one. Preferably after all this is over.”

“Next one, huh?” He teased and she just nodded, before looking down again. His gaze followed hers. “I need to clean up.”

“You really do. You reek.” Seraphina laughed, causing the baby to stir, but not wake up. “Take a bath and come back to us?”

He agreed and grabbed some fresh clothes before running to the baths. He didn’t even stop to talk to Mirabelle and Lyn on his way past them. He needed to be as clean as possible, so he scrubbed every part of body so much his skin turned red. Neat and freshly clothed, he walked back to his room to avoid even sweating. He found Seraphina in the same position as before, only that time she extended a hand so he’d join her.

Moving one pillow aside, he did, but when his body touched the mattress, he winced and it didn’t go unnoticed. Seraphina didn’t comment. She simply suggested their switch sides and they did. Then they laid watching the baby’s chest go up and down evenly. A moment of piece. A soothe moment of peace in the midst of chaos interrupted when Lyn and Mirabelle walked in the room.

“Do you want us to take her…?” Lyn asked eagerly, but later added, “…so you can rest, of course?”

Reggie was preoccupied with touching his lips to their daughter’s head, so Seraphina spoke. “Mom, auntie, I love you, but get out.” Both raised their hands up and left them alone. “They’re just eager to know her name, now that you’re here.”

“Haven’t told them?” He asked surprised.

“No, my love. Not without you here.” She said just as the baby woke up. With both over her, she looked from one to other, her amber eyes lingering on Reggie, a face she hadn’t seen before. She didn’t wail, but she made some mumbling sounds and stretched her little palms to Seraphina. “Time to feed the little monster.” Seraphina said sitting up. “She’s pretty quiet for a baby. She only cries if there’s no one in the room, which has happened only twice these four days.”

Reggie sat up as well. “Didn’t I tell you she’s going to be just like her mother?”

“Really?” Seraphina asked unbuttoning her shirt. “Me? Quiet?”

“Strong and beautiful.” He corrected and she grinned. “I’d hand her to you, but I’m afraid to hold her. Scared I’ll break her.”

Seraphina shook her head, still grinning. “Reggie, like me, Chloe’s not that fragile. Here, give me your hands.”

Once Chloe was fed and laid on the bed again, it didn’t take Reggie long to fall asleep. The rush of seeing her and Seraphina could only take him so far. With Chloe’s curious eyes following her moves, Seraphina went to Reggie’s side and searched his body for injuries. She’d seen the wince, so there was no surprise when she saw a wound, recently stitched in a rush. She’d noticed the slight limp, but there were no exterior injuries on either of his legs.

“Back in one piece.” Seraphina whispered to herself as a sigh escaped her. She continued her inspection with as few touches as possible so he wouldn’t wake. She found there were some superficial cuts here and there, but nothing serious. It didn’t stop her from picking Chloe up and looked at her. “How about we give your daddy time to rest?” She whispered to her daughter before walking out of the bedroom.

Lyn and Mirabelle were grinning when she walked into the room. Mirabelle came close first, reaching for Chloe and Seraphina handed her over before sitting opposite her mother. One woman had given birth to her, the other had raised her. They both knew something bothered her, but Lyn was the one to address it. “What’s wrong, scarlet? Everything alright with Reggie?”

Seraphina nodded. Her breaths were long and heavy. “He’s just hurt. I don’t like it when any of you are hurt.”

“Did he tell you anything about Boatwright?” Mirabelle asked bouncing Chloe from side to side.

Seraphina shook her head and rubbed Chloe’s foot. “Didn’t ask. Introducing him to his daughter was more important.” The child started yawning and Mirabelle handed her back to Seraphina. Rocking her lightly, she looked up at Lyn. “Mom, can you have Roderick relieve him a bit? He’ll never ask himself.”

“Of course, Sera. Next time he’s here for that beautiful little girl in your arms, Reggie will be as good as new.” Lyn replied looking at her expectantly. “Anything else you’d like to tell us?”

“While I’d hate to disturb my husband’s sleep, this little girl and I are going back to bed before you two get too annoying.” Seraphina said and retreated to their room, just in time to avoid the questions. She paced around the room cooing and rocking Chloe to sleep and once she was sound asleep, she placed her down, next to Reggie. Seraphina laid beside them and watched them, occasionally patting Chloe’s tummy. She felt too keyed up to rest, even though she was exhausted herself.

She almost jumped to her feet when Roderick walked into the room. The candle he carried to find his way burned the edges of his full beard. “Sorry. Thought you’d be sleeping.” He said putting out the flames.

“Couldn’t.” She replied and got up so he could to his part. “Did mom call for you?”

He shook his head. “Thought of checking on the little one before retiring for the night.” Rather than approaching Chole, he went to Reggie’s side. “Once I walked in, she mentioned…”

Seraphina stood over them, waiting. In their journey from Madfalls Refuge to Hollow Grove, Vivienne had tried introducing him to aspects of their element he wasn’t familiar with. Mind reading, auras, health evaluation, anything to do with appraisal, he took up fast. He had difficulties swaying people, whether it be their health or their emotions, but he was getting better. With Vivienne gone though, his difficulty brought to light just how much they had been relying on Vivienne the past three winters. They trusted in her far more than any doctor, more than any informant.

“Your daughter’s still doing well…” Roderick said interrupting her thoughts. “…and Reggie has no serious injuries. Small cuts here and there.”

“And his leg? He was limping.” Seraphina noted, still worried.

“I can find nothing wrong.” He shook his head and touched Reggie again. “Right. Nothing wrong, so maybe exhaustion? I can heal the wounds if you’d like.”

“Please do.” Seraphina said pacing. It took him a lot of time to heal Reggie, even though the cuts were insignificant. Once he was done, he bid her goodnight and left the room. With confirmation Chloe was still doing well and Reggie’s healing, Seraphina managed to relax enough that she soon lied down and fell asleep.

◊◊◊

When Seraphina opened her eyes, she was alone and light shone through the blinds. Midday, possibly afternoon. She got up and made her way around the house, searching for her family. She found all of them at the front porch, clustered around Reggie and Chloe. She leaned against the woodwork and took in the scene smiling. Only Maxwell and Vivienne were missing from the picture.

Mirabelle was the first to notice her and came to stand beside her. “Are you sure?” Seraphina must have looked confused, as Mirabelle wrapped an arm around her and nodded to the rest. “About leaving her with me?”

“I don’t want to leave her.” Seraphina replied with a disheartened smile. “And I don’t want a life of oppression for her, so I have to.”

“Don’t be in the front line. Plot, command. You are a great strategist.” Mirabelle pleaded. “I don’t believe anyone will fault you.”

If it was up to Mirabelle, no one in their family would wield swords, see death nor deliver it. A noble sentiment, but one that if many people shared, the ideal would have eradicated all trace of innocents the empire had quarrel with and Elementals. Not everyone could stomach the necessary deeds and no roamer could chide them for it. Nightmares plagued roamers all their life, well after their time in service ended, but they embraced it. For every haunting, there was a positive outcome. A person saved. A family. A city. All cracks to the empire’s system were welcome. No matter their size.

But for every Seraphina, a messenger of death and bloodshed, there had to be a Mirabelle, a bringer of hope and laughter. To maintain the balance. To raze the sickness plaguing their people and build anew from the ashes. Seraphina could not blame her aunt for her beliefs and longings. There would be a time when people like her would take the world by the hand and lead them to a time of peace and prosperity. Seraphina was sure. But that time had yet to come.

“I would, auntie, believe me I would…” Seraphina started and Mirabelle’s face fell, expecting the rest of the answer. “…but I can’t. Reggie can’t. Max, Viv, so many others. We need every able man and woman. How could I send a youngling to do my bidding and not stand by their side to guide them like others did to me?”

“I know…” Mirabelle trailed off and hugged Seraphina closer. “I just hoped her arrival would change your mind, pull at least one of you of this madness… Before…”

“Another dies, like Emmery. Before another child grows up parentless behind an aunt’s skirts, like Max and I.” Seraphina filled in thoughts. “Shh… we’ll get through this. Somehow we will, I promise.”

As Seraphina spoke the words, deep within her something convulsed, seeing through the mask of certainty, through the empty promise, but the teary smile on her aunt’s lips pushed the uneasiness aside. Realizing tears were rolling down her cheeks, Mirabelle wiped them away, trying to compose herself. “Reggie’s handling well the little one. No directions, nothing. As if he knows exactly what she wants.”

“Not just her.” Seraphina nodded and caught him staring at her with a proud smile. “I’ve many times considered he’s an Aetheral, even had Vivienne check, but he’s just putting in effort. Out of pure interest, too.”

Mirabelle laughed loud, shifting everyone’s attention to them. “An unfamiliar concept, I believe?”

“What is?” Barkley asked walking to them.

“Nothing.” She smiled sweetly at him, leaving Seraphina to go to her family. “Don’t you have a meeting to attend?”

“We do…” Brenton started blowing some air at Chloe causing her to rub her face before she went back to sucking on her thumb. “…but I think someone’s hungry.”

“Shouldn’t have let me sleep in then.” Seraphina chastised and reached for her daughter, while Reggie handed her over and got up. “You go on ahead. Reggie and I will join you once Chloe’s fed.” They quickly disappeared in their room and didn’t give them time for name commentary.

Seraphina settled down on their bed, to her newly-familiar routine of feeding Chloe. Reggie sat on the floor, his head on Seraphina’s lap, as mesmerized as the night before. “Heard your talk with Mirabelle.” He said kissing Chloe’s feet.

“You’re the only one. She had their full attention.” She remarked and winced as Chloe sucked rather hard on her breast.

“Mine was divided between my girls.” He replied and Seraphina rolled her eyes, even though her stomach fluttered. “Now that she’s here, I don’t know if I can leave her.”

“I know, my love.” She said pushing aside the small locks of Chloe’s hair. “I focus on our end goal.”

Despite the moment of peace, Reggie transformed instantly. His fingers left Chloe’s feet and turned into fists, his jaw clenched and he moved away from them. “Vivienne mentioned. Burning up with him. A wondrous goal to look forward to.”

“Ridding the land of his threat so our daughter can live without fear.” Seraphina said, careful to let Chloe see neither her forming tears, nor Reggie’s anger.

“Without fear, but motherless and with a broken father.” He retorted through clenched teeth. Seraphina had no answer. Some time later, when Chloe was full, Seraphina rose to place her in the crib. Reggie stepped behind her, wrapping his arms around her waist, softer than she’d expect, and they stared down at Chloe. “You had revenge to drive you. What about her?”

Seraphina melted into his embrace and touched her forehead to the side of his head. “I only want him dead, so he can’t touch her, or any other innocent child. I am a tool, Reggie. Forged to kill. And kill I will.”

He sighed, shaking his head. “You don’t have to sacrifice yourself in the process.”

“We’re in the eve of war, might die long before that.” She said, gripping his arms.

“We might.” He said and went rigid. “If we do get to him, don’t go through with the blaze. Let it be the very last resort… don’t leave us. Please...” He stepped back and turned her to face him. “…don’t leave me.”

Showing weakness was something neither of them did often and when it happened, it gave Seraphina a glimpse of how deep her feelings for him were. In such moments, all doubts of their companionship being a meager fiddling of chance dissolved. Circumstances brought them together, luck. But that had been only the beginning.

Seraphina stepped close to him, her hands cupped his scruffy chin. “When I let you slip this ring on my finger, because of our dire circumstances, I vowed I would try to live a long life with you. Full of peace and joy.” For the second time since she met him, tears rolled down his cheeks. “Right here and now, in this room, I swear it to you all over again.” Their lips locked and she felt him smile. “Upholding my oath is all that remains. All that matters.”

Leaving Hollow Grove without Seraphina and Reggie was harder than Vivienne had thought. She’d been prepping for her exit since she found out about the pregnancy, without Maxwell at first, but when the moment had come, she’d hesitated. She’d gone to Seraphina’s bedside, wishing the knowledge she’d acquired would be enough, even prayed to the Elements as many Elementals did. Nothing had helped get her resolve to move. Until she touched Seraphina.

It hadn’t mattered she was an Aetheral. She hadn’t gotten to assessing their health. As if the child had known what Vivienne had needed, she’d felt the kicks. There had been many reasons, solid, strategic, for Seraphina to stay behind, but those kicks… Those featherlight touches had been the most important one. Were it not for the baby, they would all be speaking of ways to conceal Seraphina in their travels. How she’d mingle, better than the rest. Like Maxwell had been doing when he didn’t know.

“Where are you off to?” Maxwell asked startling her. He came up behind her, yawning wide. His breath still carried the strong scent of spices in the previous night’s stew. It wasn’t unpleasant. It reminded her of her time in Madam Jean’s kitchen. Once a home for her.

“The Grove…” She answered and leaned back against him. “What do you think they’re doing?”

“Hard to say.” He murmured, still trying to shake off his sleep. “We must have a niece by now, so I’m hoping they’ve all run off with the little one…”

“…they’re most likely plotting though.” Vivienne filled in. “Let’s hope that’s the only action they’re getting.”

“Autumn’s ending, Viv. Unless seeing the child changed Sera’s mind, they might already be away from the Grove…” Maxwell said and stretched. “Then again, they haven’t caught up, so maybe they stayed?”

“Who knows?” She wondered and rubber her arms, a sudden chill crept up her body at the mere thought Seraphina and Reggie would follow them. “We should pick up the pace. Just in case.”

“You brought it up, not me.” He teased, but the glare she gave him stopped him and he turned professional once more.

One would think leaving everyone behind and continuing their journey by themselves, just the two of them, would bring them closer. Give their relationship time and space to flourish. It hadn’t. In the summer away from Hollow Grove, duty and urgency dominated their days.

On the night they left, Brenton and Barkley had brought them before the rest of the council who came forth with the situation south of the Dark Highlands. Boatwright had been under a long siege, but they had paved the path to not only take the city, but also eliminate the imperials around it. Maxwell and Vivienne would not be part of that endeavour. They’d be long gone by the time the last piece fell into place.

Since long before Vivienne had met the twins, a tyrant had been presiding over Mountmend. A self-proclaimed friend of the capital, in close league with the Emperor. There were many a rumour Damien himself had sired her youngest son, born after her husband had died of old age, but knowing of his Aetheral nature and fear of Elementals, Vivienne highly doubted there was truth to them. Bereft of fear her actions would bring his wrath upon the city, she’d been taxing her subjects more and more every cycle as the Shepherds, proclaimed bandits, in the forests preyed on the imperial convoys using the main road. It had forced the southern council to order a seize of attacks, in hopes their fellow people, whether in their ranks or not, would no more endure the ridiculous whims of a snobbish, yet foolish, woman.

But their hopes had proven empty. With no one to reprimand the Viscountess, the taxes remained high. It had brought outrage to the wealthy merchants of Boatwright and they’d halted all trading to and from Mountmend. While the Boatwrighters required coal and iron, their fertile farms produced ample fruit and vegetable and their skilled fishermen caught an abundance of fish regularly. Both commodities much needed in the stale city of smiths and watchmen.

It’d driven the Viscountess of Mountmend to send emissaries to Boatwright to negotiate the taxing levels and rekindle the commerce between the two cities. Instead of signed covenants, thanks to the twins’ last job before Vivienne came along, half the envoy of ambassadors had returned decapitated, the other half had been forced to carry them. It’d been the last straw. The wedge between the two cities became too deep. Boatwright had closed her gates and no produce left her realm. Not even the tribute to Dawnfield, a negligence that had brought the imperial army at their doorstep.

No traded provision and high taxes had led to unrest within the province of Mountmend. Day after day would go by and famine would allow the local guild to establish a firmer presence, provide shelter and welcome many desperate individuals. From bottom feeders, to personal bodyguards and advisors to Viscountess. The coup had been brewing since the first moments of unrest. Vandalisms and small riots had occurred, just enough to keep the officials in constant unease.

The way to the heart of Dawnfield was no straight line and held many stops for Vivienne and Maxwell. Their first one had been Mountmend. “Tell the guild the time for the hyena’s fall has come. Help them if you can, but don’t dally too long.” They had relayed the message and assisted in neutralizing the Viscountess with no more than a scream of hers when Vivienne had wrapped her arms around her neck, eventually knocking her out.

Her advisors were in league with the Shepherds and took over her affairs. Her seal decorated every official correspondence and to the outside world, nothing seemed to have changed in the dealings of Mountmend, only the Viscountess’s public attendances had stopped occuring. But none of it were true. The taxes minimized, there was word that trade with Boatwright would soon pick up again, deaths and lashes were punishments left forgotten. Unbeknownst to them for a time, the entire realm of Mountmend would be aiding the fight against the empire, crafting weapons and training soldiers.

Maxwell and Vivienne had only heard of the plans for Mountmend. Once they had delivered the Viscountess to the guild, they had gone onto their next target. Wallowdale. An uneventful ride through deep forests had followed. Uneventful due to winning over Mountmend and Boatwright cutting herself off from the world. They’d come upon wandering peddles, shepherds rounding up their livestock and messengers. All cheerful, with no grudge against the hard world they lived in.

For the realm of Wallowdale was neither rich in jewels and provisions, nor poor and her lords held little aspirations for more. Out in the open at it was and hardly strategic a post, as long as the county provided the necessary tributes to the capital, Dawnfield was satisfied and let them be, often withdrawing all imperial officers to cities the need for them was greater.

One could not call them pacifists, but it was the realm with the fewest military trained units. The people chose brushes and easels over swords and tactic boards. They preferred to carve the stones with their chisels rather than launch them with their catapults. Most of the artists renowned throughout the land came from Wallowdale, but their artistry didn’t always come from their peaceful ways. A work of art could be a result of love, wonder or pure imagination, but pain, loss and anger could be the inspiration as well.

Wallowdalers had their own losses and quarrels with the empire, but where others would pick up the sword, they would depict their emotions in their art. Sculptures, paintings, even garments and uniforms, all could hold the mark of a desperate soul. The formal array the lords of Wallowdale would wear for public events was a such example. No matter the design or gender, the colours and pattern had been the same since the first Shepherd journals.

The base would be as brown and dark as the hills just north of the city, so dark one could mistake it for black. Going higher, the cloth would lose its darkness and become crimson, turning blood red at the midriff, before it’d change to dark again, ending up charcoal. The finishing touch was a silver spinning wheel that decorated the lapel.

It was a rather eccentric display, but the Viscount of Wallowdale at the time had adopted the look for the officials, and even made the spinning wheel the realm’s emblem. But the seamstress who’d created the iconic first outfit had had the mass murder of her family in her mind when she’d sewn it. It had been her form of protest, but the naïve Viscount had missed the hidden meaning.

The Shepherds had known though. They still remembered. The seamstress had been a blower, her husband a scorcher, their children too young to exhibit an affinity. The husband had made the mistake to save his coworkers from a fire that had broken out, thanks to his high tolerance of fire. At the time, imperials still had been heavily stationed across all realms and had been taking little chances. The mere sign of an Elemental would result in death. Many innocents had paid the highest price during that time.

The imperials had rounded up the seamstress’ husband and children and executed them before she’d heard of the fire incident. She had only found out as they were transferring the not yet cold bodies to the hills to set them alight. The roamer in the city had told her and followed her to the pyre. He’d stopped her before she’d attacked the imperials laughing over her family’s corpses. The image of the brown earth, drenched in oil, the blazing flames dancing across her beloved, burning them to crisps, and their pitch-black remnants had stuck with her for the rest of her life and had come out in the suit the Viscount had called her to make. She hadn’t expected empathy, but the praise and wonder she’d received for the showcase of her grief had been the push off the edge and she’d killed herself the following day. The symbol would burn bright still.

They rode into Wallowdale less tense than they’d had in any other city. They’d come upon many faces familiar to Maxwell who’d informed them there were no imperials in sight. They’d arrived late in the evening and gone straight to the city guild for a quick briefing, before they retired for the night among snarky comments about the change Maxwell had undergone. Vivienne knew, but didn’t share.

Surrounded by people they could trust, three Elementals among them, two scorchers and one blower, sleep came faster and easier. They rested their exhausted bodies and minds and called for a meeting.

Maxwell had told her to expect maybe ten people, but more than two dozen gathered in the tight confines of the artisan guild, a front for the local Shepherds. He and Vivienne informed them of their dealings in Ironham and Mountmend, as well as the vague plan to overthrow the Emperor. To avoid getting into details they knew not themselves at that moment, they called upon the need for secrecy being the key to their success.

None argued. Instead they went on to explain the situation in Wallowdale. It was as quiet as it seemed on the outside. There were no imperials around because the Viscount himself had asked it. After Bandville’s holocaust, the imperial soldiers in Wallowdale became too brutal, much like in the times when Elementals were still known to the public, when they hadn’t seemingly been purged from the land. The Viscount of Wallowdale grew sorrowful of seeing his people brutalized for no apparent reason and had personally gone to the capital to request that change. Given the history of peace emanating from the city, the Emperor ‘s advisors had granted his request and the past winter, the imperials started withdrawing until none but the local authorities were left.

“That works to our advantage then. How many are there? Maybe we can take them.” Maxwell said when the briefing was over.

“Officers? Thirty, plus ten in the Viscount’s hall.” The blower answered and others nodded. “But, they’re poorly trained. Our youngest roamer can beat them one on one.”

“Let’s do it then tonight and we can go our way tomorrow.” Maxwell announced, again many nodded, but before he spoke of battle strategy, he stopped. “Vivienne? You disagree?”

She hadn’t voiced her skepticism, it must have showed on her face. “Can I speak freely?” She asked, looking at the locals. She knew she needed not ask Maxwell, but the others were seeing her for the first time. A show of respect on their turf was necessary.

“Of course, lady Vivienne. Please.” Lydia, one of the scorchers, urged her. A wobbly child stood beside her and held onto the ends of her silver braid.

Vivienne cleared her throat. “You’ve surely heard of the wild hunt for Seraphina. You know her. Whatever reason you’re overheard the officials use for their search, you know it’s not true. She’s a scorcher, not what they might accuse her of…”

“Viv! Didn’t we agree on need-to-know revelations?” Maxwell screamed in his mind, his eyes bulging.

“It is need-to-know, Max.” She answered his silent scold and turned to face the crowd. “Whatever you’ve heard applies to me, not Sera. I won’t divulge the full extent of my element, but one of the things that comes with it is reading people’s mind…” gasps filled the room and many touched their heads. “…and I see no desire in any Wallowdaler to fight. Not the empire and certainly not us. In fact, many harbor runaways from other cities.”

The last statement brought unrest to the room. Each city guild took pride in knowing the dealings in its midst, but Vivienne wasn’t there to pat their back. She and Maxwell had a job to do and an assignment to get back to. Despite complaining to Seraphina about it, she’d learned from her that bluntness often progressed things faster.

Heat spread throughout the room, someone squealed and the commotion stopped. “Settle down, my friends, before you get charred.” Lydia warned and turned to Vivienne. “I believe Maxwell is right, you shouldn’t have told us. The fewer people know, the safer you will be…” she removed the child’s hand from her braid and someone came to take him away. “…but we’ll want to know who needs help in our city and you still need to explain your objection to Maxwell’s plan.”

“And perhaps offer an alternative? A simple objection gets us nowhere.” The second scorcher added.

“We talk to them.” She received mocking laughter, but she didn’t deter. “They cannot lie to me. You said we can fight them if need be, so what’s wrong with talking to them first and if it doesn’t go well, we draw our swords?”

“Take them by surprise and we reduce casualties. Expose ourselves and that surprise is gone.” The nameless scorcher said again. “…unless of course you have a way to manipulate people in your element’s arsenal.”

“Lie. We don’t want them thinking I’m your toy.” Maxwell warned.

Before she blurted out just her Elemental nature and a small portion of the truth, she’d already thought of it herself. Lying. Not to relieve them of their doubts about Maxwell. She needed them to focus on one thing, and Aetheral manipulation was not it. She knew the minds of the Wallowdale lords. She could convince them. Aether only provided her with knowledge. It was up to her to use it as she would. She didn’t want to be like Damien and abuse her gift. For Lucian had helped her see it was indeed a gift, so long as one respected it.

“I don’t. What I have is insight and they don’t seem keen to look for and report you, any of us.” Vivienne extended her hand, pointing at everyone and no one in the room. “How long did the squad with the Elemental stay?” She didn’t wait for an answer. By making them think about it, she he sought it in their minds. “Four days. They left after a public gathering… no, a carnival?”

“Wallowdale’s Finest. It’s an art exhibition. Happens every spring.” Lydia corrected her. “No need to show us your gift…”

Vivienne held up her hands. “I’m making a point, not showing off. Our intel says these hunters stayed no less than half a season in the cities and every single person had to appear before the silent Elemental. Here, they stayed four days. Who do you think is responsible for that?”

“Coincidence. Wallowdale’s Finest is an event everyone here attends. Even villagers from the realm’s outskirts.” Someone said, but not all agreed.

The nameless scorcher and Lydia seemed skeptical, staring at each other, a silent argument between them. Defeated, he nodded, and Lydia turned to Vivienne and the crowd. “It could be coincidence, yes, but after its first day, our spies saw Viscount Wilfried and the officer in command wrangled over something. We don’t know what, our people couldn’t hear, but the imperials left the next evening.”

Vivienne didn’t let the chance go. “Let us talk to them. At the very least, allow me and Maxwell to infiltrate his chambers and talk to him.” She asked them. She couldn’t go rogue. It wasn’t their way.

The nameless scorcher came to her. “If the guild agrees to your request, Maxwell will not accompany you. I will.” He looked at Maxwell, snickering. “Sorry, Max, you make too much noise.”

Laughter filled the room and Maxwell joined. “This will be an interesting partnership. Hope you’re ready, Axel.”

◊◊◊

The guild agreed to Axel’s proposal and the following night, he and Vivienne wore the darkest clothes they owned and walked the streets of Wallowdale, heading for the Viscount’s court. The guild had spies inside the hall and had reached out to them earlier, so they would stand guard at its gates. In any other case, the only way inside would be scaling the wall, a feat they would like to avoid, to save both their time and strength.

As they approached the gate, their hearts thumping in their chests, they found the message had reached their comrades. They both sighed in relief and without a second glance, they walked past them as one of them handed Axel a note. Axel led them to the stables to gather themselves.

“What’s it say?” Vivienne asked, already reading the castle to find the route with the fewest men.

“We can go in through the servants’ quarters. The boys got everyone to drink and they’re out cold. Should be for the rest of the night.” Axel said and Vivienne was already shaking her head.

“No. One guard got sick and his fully awake, even if a little disoriented.” Vivienne said and ran her tongue around her mouth, trying to rinse off the foul taste she thought she felt. “Further in, a couple is…. sleeping together.” She quivered to shuffle off the flush both their thoughts and memories of her own in similar circumstances brought. “They’re sneaking around, so they’ll be on the look-out for any noise. Even if we go past the puking man, I’m pretty sure they’ll spot us.” She pulled back into herself before looking up and finding Axel staring at her. “What?”

He cleared his throat to mask his surprise. “Nothing…Nice trick.”

While curious, she gave him the courtesy of not delving into his mind to find the truth behind his words. “Let’s get going then. The fewest people are that way. Any ideas?”

He nodded. “The dining room. Even if we don’t find a window open, I’m sure I can help.” He said snickering. With a snap of his fingers, the tiniest of flames cradled his palm and turned the note in his hand into ash.

Reading ahead, Vivienne’s steps were sure, yet silent, as she walked upright to the other side of the hall with Axel in tow. There was no one in the dining room and luck didn’t favor them, as no windows were open, but Axel crouched and touched the glass. “Cover me.”

She didn’t repeat there was no one around, just nodded and watched him. He snapped his fingers again, a trademark of the man as it seemed, and called fire to his hands. The glow the flames produced alarmed her and she expanded her reading. She no longer looked for people in close proximity, but people who had a visual on them.

They were in a blind spot, though, so despite the light the flames cast on them, they remained undetected. With renewed ease of mind, Vivienne payed attention to what Axel was doing. In one hand, he was pushing the handle of his knife against the base of the window. With the other, he directed the flames to do his bidding and lick the glass to the point it blackened.

His need to use his hands to handle his element highlighted how Elementals had different levels of attunement and mastery. Seraphina needn’t do anything but think of a command and fire obeyed. Gestures were only part of her theatrics or a way to show her companions what she intended. The few times she saw Brenton wield his element, he’d seemed to need clear visual and she knew from Maxwell that he needed either extreme focus or exact knowledge of where to find water before he could command it.

She lacked experience in dealings with other type of Elementals to know about their differences, but when it came to her own, Lucian had been very surprised of how quickly she’d caught on. The peculiarity hadn’t dawned on her until she tried to teach Roderick herself. For one, he needed to be still to do anything. Then it’d always take him more time than either would like and he’d sap too much of both his and his target’s spirit at a time.

During her moments of deliberation, the heat from Axel’s flames made the glass malleable and the butt of his knife pushed it in, creating a hole he used to open the window before he got up proudly. Vivienne was impressed and didn’t hesitate to let him know. “Nice trick.” She quoted him.

He nodded and motioned to their entrance. “Ladies first.”

In they went and sneaked through the entire hall without trouble. With Vivienne in the lead, they took the long route to avoid the few guards and servants still awake. They reached the lords’ room and walked in as silently as possible. The Viscount was fast asleep but his wife shot up the moment Axel closed the door.

In mere moments of reading her, Vivienne’s eyes widened and she pushed Axel down as a projectile shot past their heads. “Douser! She’s a douser!” She yelled and it gave the Viscountess pause while she was shaking her husband. Vivienne crouched in front of their bed, her hands up by her head. “M'lord, m'lady, we’re not here to hurt you.”

The Viscount, then awake, grabbed for his sword at his bedside and stood between Vivienne and his wife. “Lies, assassin. You’re not taking her to him.” He swung his sword at her, but even if she wasn’t reading him, he would’ve missed as his strike was clumsy and uncoordinated. He’d been drinking with his servants that night.

Axel was quick to recover from Vivienne’s push and reached for weapons. She noticed and shook her head. Either he didn’t catch on or simply didn’t trust her enough to listen, for the next moment he had a dagger in each hand and crouched, ready to pounce. Turning her back to the city lords, Vivienne placed herself in front of him. “Talk first. The guild agreed.”

She may not have seemed it, but she was fully alert and reading the terrified couple. They didn’t notice, though, and both tried to hurt her. One with his blade, the other with her element. But even with her back turned, she knew the attacks were coming, where and when, and dodged with ease.

She spun around and kicked the sword out of the Viscount’s hand. She didn’t attack him though. The more she read off both him and his wife, the surer she became it was vital no one harmed them. “Stop it. I honestly don’t want to hurt you.” She was slow and something hit her from behind. She fell to her knees as her back got drenched. A waterball. “Axel, show her or they won’t stop.”

She rose and got ready for more attacks, but none came. A warm wave hit her, just as their minds went blank. Axel gathered around himself the light of every candle in the room. “I can play too.”

“Don’t taunt them.” Vivienne warned, never taking her eyes nor ears off them. With her hands spread in front of her, she took a step towards the struggling Viscount. “You think we’re here for your wife. Kill or take her to the Emperor? We’re not.” She looked to the Viscountess who was still enthralled with Axel’s flames. “We are like you, milady. If he knew about us, he would erase all trace…” Vivienne said and kept reading her. “…like he did with your family…”

“Stop, stop, just stop it!” The Viscountess screamed. Her outburst caused more water strikes to come their way. Vivienne barely managed to dodge them, Axel didn’t and got scrapped.

Vivienne stopped neither talking, nor reading. “They fled your village, kept you a secret when they reached Wallowdale. Made you hide away when the imperials came. You survived because…”

“Stop talking.” The Viscount said going to his wife’s side. “You say you’re not here to hurt, but your words do.”

Vivienne glanced behind her to check on Axel. All good. Still standing, but his arm was bleeding. “I apologize, but I really need you to talk to us. Believe us. Your lives and ours depend on it.”

“You’ve put in a lot of work to get in here and you want to talk? Say your piece and begone then.” The Viscountess said and her mask returned to her face. No sign of her previous outburst present.

Vivienne nodded. “My lords, I was going to tell you about the existence of Elementals, people that have an affinity with nature’s basic elements, but your display earlier saves us some time. You know it. The question is… do you also know of the League of Shepherds?”

“Rebels, you mean.” The Viscount said.

“Resisters.” Vivienne corrected. “Started as a band of broken people. Elementals the Emperor wanted dead. For fear they would rise against him.”

“And now you are, aren’t you? Like father tried…” The Viscountess thought to herself and, unbeknownst to her, to Vivienne.

Vivienne continued, trying not to answer the Viscountess directly. “That time has come. We’re gathering against him. Not just Elementals, anyone he and his minions wronged. This land needs to be rid of him.”

“So resisters can rule?” The Viscount mocked her.

“So honorable people like you can rule.” At her words, the Viscount backed up, his eyebrows scrunched. “We seek a future where our families won’t have to look over their shoulder at every corner. Where those of us with an affinity can live without persecution. Where children aren’t slaughtered just because their parents were Elementals and they could be as well. Where man and woman are judged by their actions, not their nature…”

She waited to let the lords process the speech she’d heard Reggie give her and the twins numerous times. Every Elemental and victim of the empire had heard it had nodded along. Teared up. Flushed with emotion. Grown vivid at the system. Rallied with the Shepherds.

Though she tried desperately to hide it, her mind revealed the Viscountess was no exception. “Wallowdale is no great force. What could we possibly offer?”

“An example.” Axel answered returning the flames to the candles.

“That’s right. You can set an example.” Vivienne agreed. “Our friends and comrades are slowly taking control of the cities. I have personal knowledge Mountmend is ours. Boatwright may already be as well. Your realm is next. We could’ve tried capturing you. Assassinating you. Maybe we would’ve succeeded, maybe not. But our guild here has seen your ethics, your compassion. Traits our land will need if we manage to kill Damien.”

“You want us to build an army with you? I don’t have manpower to match the imperial army. It’s vast.” The Viscount said, proving Vivienne right as he considered her suggestion.

Vivienne took a seat by the window and shook her head. “We’ll never survive if we go against them head on, no. Secrecy and guile are our only way forward. We would like your city’s support. With the imperials taking no interest in your city, you could provide the perfect base of operations. A place to regroup, gather our provisions and coordinate south east of the Dark Highlands.”

“Maybe we can provide shelter, but we have no extra provisions.” The Viscount said.

“Cut your supply to the capital and you pitch in for us. But we’ll mostly take care of it ourselves.” Axel said and mimicked Vivienne.

“No manpower?” The Viscountess asked, still not convinced.

There was so much workaround words they could’ve used. Lying to them to a direct question would prove pernicious later, so Vivienne decided not to. “Axel and I are not asking for it. Our Elders might… At some point.”

“We can’t ask our people to fight the empire. Some believe in it and its values.” The Viscount said, almost apologetic.

“You no longer do. Your wife opened your eyes to the truth, didn’t she?” Vivienne asked smiling. “You have three children, right?”

That alarmed them both. “Don’t you dare threaten them…”

Vivienne held up her hands. “I would never. I only ask because one of you is an Elemental. Are they? Or maybe they’re too young to tell yet. What happens when your family needs to attend events in Dawnfield? Milady, you’ve been hiding your gift your whole life, can you be sure your children will do it as well as you have?”

“I cannot. I didn’t hide it very well when the last envoy was here either.” She murmured and turned to her husband. “Maybe we should consider it, Wilfried. For our children’s future.”

“Olivie…” The Viscount started, but no words followed.

The Viscountess took it upon herself then. “Bring your Elders here. We’ll talk about an alliance.”

Vivienne and Axel got up and bowed. “We’ll need time, but you can start with our city guild mistress till they arrive.”

Olivie glared at Wilfried and he cleared his throat. “Yes, of course. We will accept them behind closed doors for secrecy… As you advised.”

“Much appreciated, my lord, thank you.” Vivienne said when she rose from her bow. “If only more men like you graced this land… Farewell.”

Axel opened the door and they both stepped out the room. A lord of the empire had agreed to aid. Based on inspiring words of the future, not threats on his life. The tide was slowly turning.