“The fire, baby. It will burn us both...”

[Letho]

Ira once again grabbed a hold of the reins and got the dismayed mass under control, but Letho didn’t care about the fires anymore. His benevolence and worrying about the wellbeing of others had its limits and they were reached the moment this little rescue effort turned into a struggle not for his own life, but for that of the lithe redhead that shivered in his arms. Right now, Irrakam could burn and fall apart around his ears and he would merely amble away from the charcoaled ruins once the fire did its wretched deed. It once again proved what Myrhia knew well by now; Letho was like a coin when it came to emotions. On one side was the amicable, gentle knight that rescued her from slavery, and on the other was a wanderer that was callous to the bone. And while she tried to erase the coldhearted one and replace it as much as possible with the tender one, most of the people still got the cold shoulder.

Myrhia, however, was an altogether different breed. Mellow and kind to the very core, even now when she felt like somebody beat her up with a club, her thoughts fled to the fires that still crackled and the smoke that still ascended towards the already gray skies. “Are the... fires out?” she asked in a whisper, still struggling to equalize her hasty breathing.

“Don’t you worry about that.” he tried to shush her, rubbing his hand over her back in an attempt to warm her a bit more. But as if nature itself wanted to defy him in this effort, a whiff of wind swept over their embraced bodies. Warm and seemingly harmless, the breeze had a rather discomforting effect on the sopped couple and a devastating one on the fires that were instantly provoked to amplify their vehemence. Once again, Letho decided to brush away this little detail. And once again, Myrhia decided not to.

“The wind, Letho.” she muttered, looking up at his face. “It will fuel... the fires even more. You... You have to go and help put them out.”

No, he didn’t. Or at least that was what he thought until he looked down towards the pleading pair of eyes that simply begged him to do something she would be keen on doing if she was capable. “I’ll be ok. I just need some rest. You should go.” and then after he tarried for another couple of seconds. “GO, YOU BIG OAF!”

It was all the incentive he needed. He kissed her on the forehead, then took the blanket off of his shoulders and tucked it around her tightly before he made his way to one of two fire sites in the proximity. The woman that tried to keep things organized was familiar to the Marshal, but he couldn’t tell which of the two names belonged to her; Uriahd or Messia. He decided to leave the names out of it as he approached her and grasped her by the shoulder.

“The wind is picking up.” he started, not taking under consideration that there is a chance that she didn’t understand him. However, she didn’t put on one of those blank, confused faces, so he continued: “We won’t be able to extinguish the fires with just water. I have a plan, but we’re going to need a couple of things. I need a dozen men, a wagon, some shovels and as many canvas sacks as you can get your hands on. We’re going to fill them with sand and use it to take out the fire, alright?”

Messia seemed reluctant at first, but after another gust of wind swept through the streets, distending the fires, she nodded and turned towards the people that seemed under her command for the time being. After another set of instructions spoken in Fallien native tongue, a portion of the crowd scattered and within the minute all the necessary items were procured.

“We have to hurry.” the woman said, struggling a bit with Tradespeak as she uttered the words. “Or there won’t be Irrakam by the time we return.”

Letho cracked the whip over the back of a rather old looking nag and sent the wagon charging through the streets and towards the outskirts. The volunteers that sat in the back of the carriage felt like sacks of potatoes as the Marshal sped through the streets, following Messia’s instructions until the road turned from cobbles into trotted dirt and the houses gave way to picturesque cottages. Defiantly, as if the nature deliberately opposed them, the dry desert wind slapped their faces, reminding them that every second counted.

It took almost fifteen minutes to fill all the sacks that they had. The locals did most of the work on the filling while Letho effortlessly lifted the heavy sacks into the wagon, arranging them rather neatly. Once the work was done, he told Messia to instruct them to go to some of the nearby houses and look for some more sacks, then fill them with sand while the two of them delivered this batch to Irrakam.

The ride back seemed at least twice as long even though they followed more or less the same route. The wind seemed to establish a constant flow now, refusing to give them a break. The smoke was thicker now, clouding the vision and forcing the Marshal do drive the wagon considerably slower, but thanks to Messia’s good navigation, they reached one of the gigantic fires relatively fast. Letho got into the back of the wagon, then noticed that Ira was once again on the forefront, throwing bucket after bucket of water on the fire that seemed to grow stronger just to spite her efforts.

“Ira! Ira, come here!” he shouted, calling the Fallien girl while undoing one of the sacks. “The water will do no good now that the wind picked up! We have to use sand. Tell the people to get as much sand or dirt or whatever and throw it on the fire!”

With that said, he flung the first untied sack at the fire. The canvas thing spun through mid air, spreading the contents all over the flames. Letho didn’t stand around to witness the rather minute but prominent results. His titanic strength enabled him to take the heavy sack and fling them with immaculate precision, striking the heart of the fire and delivering the sandy death. It was him and the people against the wind and the fire and after some ten minutes it was rather clear who won the bout.

They cheered, they clapped their hands, they patted his shoulders and shook his hands once the fires were completely out and all he wanted to do is get to Myrhia. However, the weary, ash-covered faces of the folk that initially accepted him with cold courtesy now seemed thankful and even elated by his presence. There were no more explosions, no more devouring flames, and the dense shroud of smoke was the only remnant of the fires that only moments earlier threatened to destroy the entire capitol. Messia, getting into the whole celebration sprit, placed a warm pecker on his cheek as the two of them approached Ira who seemed at the ends of her strength.

“Well, I think congratulations are in order. We all did fairly well given the circumstances to preserve as much of Irrakam as possible.” he said to the woman with a mild smirk on his face. The people around them murmured and spoke and shouted, all overjoyed by the victory over one of the deadliest elements.

[Iriah Caitrak]

She couldn’t believe it. At a time like this the wind was picking up and giving the flames even more life when she’d thought that maybe, just maybe a little bit more and they’d get it under control. Now there seemed to be no hope in doing that but she wouldn’t give up. Though every muscle in her arm and shoulders and even a few in her back were straining with each heavy bucket and with each throw she would not give up. Though the Gods be against her and the wind may hate her today until she collapsed she’d continue to fight this fire so that no one else ended up like Uri.

Someone seemed to have come up with a plan though.

As the Calerian warrior heard her name being called she turned to see Letho with Messia a cart filled with people and dirt. She didn’t need the explanation that came next from Letho, she knew exactly what he was thinking and wanted to slap herself in the face for not thinking it. The dirt would smother the fire a lot faster than the water would put it out, especially now with the wind blowing.

Dropping her bucket, Ira raced over to the wagon and grabbed one of the sacks of dirt. They were heavy, much heavier than the water and it required both her and Messia to heft the thing over to the flames and hurl the contents outwards. Letho was some kind of machine though, hefting the sacks easily by himself and throwing the dirt to the flame. She couldn’t believe he was that strong, but she didn’t have time to muse about it, she had flames to conquer and within fifteen minutes that felt like forever they were conquered and smothered and out never to return. Well, perhaps not never, but she would hope that nothing else was going to set itself on fire this day or anytime soon, she wanted nothing to do with flames.

As everyone else cheered Ira felt like collapsing, she was even feeling a little light headed not that she’d let anyone know about it. She could make it back to the inn they were staying at, then she could collapse but right now she had to stay on her feet and pretend to be as happy as everyone here felt. It just seemed so empty without Uri’s little cheerful cries to help string her along.

Rolling her shoulders, Ira turned to her side and saw Messia give Letho a kiss on the cheek and her eyes narrowed considerably. Messia didn’t know how Uri had died or that she’d died chasing after this foolish man, perhaps something equally foolish on her part, but Uri had always been one to jump into things head first in order to help someone. His words made the very hate she had thought pointless to feel about him boil in her blood though. She wanted to punch him in the face and wipe that smirk off of it and maybe even knock a few teeth out while she was there.

“Yeah, sure…” Ira began, her words sounding empty, almost like how she felt, “why don’t you congratulate yourself with the death of Uri while you’re at it. After all, she died chasing after your foolhardy attempt to abandon us to our own fates without a care.”

The smile that had covered Messia’s face disappeared the moment the words were out. That small light in her eyes she always got when she was happy was gone too and Ira hated herself for making it go away but she couldn’t help it. She couldn’t pretend to be happy like everyone else and she couldn’t congratulate this bastard, on what, helping to put out some flames when the true test of his character had already come and gone and he’d failed. After all, he’d left them all there to die in those fires and he hadn’t even cared.

Messia moved away from Letho and walked passed Ira, placing a small hand on her shoulder as she walked by. Ira saw the tears in her eyes and saw the look on her face but knew she couldn’t help. Messia just needed to be alone to think to herself, to do whatever it was people did when they grieved for someone because really, Ira had no idea what it was.

Saying the words had done nothing to help the Calerian, they didn’t make her feel better. They were just words after all and could do nothing to fill that empty space. Turning her back to the stranger Ira began to walk away. She had no idea where she was going, perhaps back to the Inn, anywhere really. She’d have to eventually come back and dig the body of her friend out of that mass of rubble and ash but right now the stones were too hot. It would have to wait for the evening when the cool night air touched them and cooled them down. Then the rocks could be removed and the dead would be given their burial rights. Uri would have to wait for the journey back to the tribe though; a Calerian’s burial rights were different than the rest of Fallien. Uri needed to be honoured for all she had done in this life and prayers needed to be said so that she made it to Sanctuary.

Yet Ira knew she was already there. No souls were lingering around this mess and a Calerian who spent her life fighting and releasing those with regrets who had stayed behind and turned into monsters would not do so herself.

[Letho]

Letho knew his treachery would catch up with him. That kinds of things always went around and came around to punch you in the face when you least expect it, on some idle Tuesday while you’re relishing in the melancholic dusk. But what he didn’t expect was for it to catch up with him so soon, and definitely not in the manner that they did once Ira spoke her cold words. The merriment of the mass recognized the gravity of the uttered words, noticed the deadly serious chill in the quicksilver eyes and the failure at any kind of rebuttal in Letho’s, and their cheers first doused down, then turned into murmurs and finger-pointing. From hero to zero (or less) in a matter of seconds.

“Uri? Uri as in Uriahd?”

The Marshal still couldn’t quite conceive it. It was an irrational, senseless emotion. After all, he knew that his decision could come at a price of several lives, he knew what stood on the other end of the scale. And yet seeing the hatred mixed with sorrow in Ira’s eyes, seeing the shift in Messia that went from overjoyed to doleful before his very eyes, it introduced him to the real consequences of his actions. And now, in retrospect of his charge through the flames, he could remember a scream that got lost in the swoosh of the wind that darted past his ears and the crackling of the fire. He neglected it until now, ignored it, classified it as just one of the locals singing their hands on the flames, but now he realized that it was Uri’s death shriek.

“What is she talking about, Letho?” a weak, slightly husky voice came from his side where Myrhia now stood, holding both blankets around her tiny form. Letho didn’t respond. Instead he scurried after the Fallien woman and her friend, stopping her with a gentle hand that grasped her shoulder.

“Wait. Ira I... I didn’t know. I’m sorry to hear about Uriahd.”

Despite the tangible sympathy in his voice, Ira merely snatched her shoulder away from his grasp and proceeded through the street. Messia, who was until a couple of moments ago looking at him as if he was a reincarnation of Fallien heroes of old now gazed at him with half-disappointed and fully sorrowful eyes. And then she too followed her friend further into the smoky mist that made Irrakam look like a sleepy city on a misty morning.

“What happened, Letho? Is Uriahd dead?” Myrhia once again made her way to his side, her large eyes looking up at his face that seemed to lose all its royal fairness, all its adamant strictness, leaving a weary wanderer that peered into the smoky streets.

“Let’s just get to the inn and get some rest.”

***

Wanderer’s Sanctum had the luck to be located in a rather unremarkable part of the Fallien capitol. It was a homey looking, two-storey house with a flat roof and somewhat of a rustic interior. Letho initially wanted to take a room in some of the more majestic inns – they were, after all, traveling on a rather hefty budget issued by the Corone Government – but Myrhia in her never-ending modesty insisted on this place. It was silent, away from the main streets, and still comfy enough to satisfy their desires.

However, the tranquility that was one of the prime characteristics of the Sanctum was nowhere to be found once the pair reached the inn. With a great number of people losing their homes in the fires, the proprietor of the hostel turned most of his rooms into a shelter for those who wound up without a roof over their heads. Mattresses were sprawled all over the common room, all the spare rooms packed with people with wistful, disbelieving faces, children in filthy clothes that searched for the parents that were bound never to be found again. It was a horrible sight, making Letho feel as if there was a war ranging outside the door and these people got caught in the crossfire. This had to be the work of the Coalition and he was determined to get to the bottom of it all.

Myrhia was silent during their trek through the smoke-filled streets, thoughtful and utterly miserable, but once the doors closed behind them and they stood in their room, her curiosity couldn’t handle the silence anymore. She plopped down on the bed, sighed in a specific manner that announced a question, and spoke: “So what happened to Ira and her friend?” The redhead, though seemingly wide-eyed at first sight, wasn’t a complete nitwit. She heard what Ira said, heard the accusation that spoke of abandonment, but she reckoned there was more to it, that there had to be more to it. Letho wasn’t the type that chickened out, fire or no fire.

“Just drop it, Myri. It doesn’t matter.” he said, his voice distant and uninterested as he pushed the curtain just enough for him to look down at the streets.

“Don’t give me that. Don’t you dare. I saw the look in her eyes, I heard what she said. What happened?” Myrhia said, dropping the blankets that kept her warm so far and standing up to approach Letho. The Marshal remained silent, unmoving, as if she didn’t say a word. “Why Uri died? What did you do? She said you abandoned them? Why? Why would she say that!?”

“BECAUSE I DID!” she snatched his head at her. His usually phlegmatic brown eyes were now almost furious. She shivered at the unhinged, uncontrolled power in his voice and he continued in a soft but callous manner. “When the explosion knocked you into the well, I was stuck with Ira and the rest of them behind the collapsed buildings. I could’ve stayed behind and help Ira get them out, but I didn’t. I jumped through the flames and into the well. Uri tried to follow me, but she didn’t make it.”

The silence in the pause was almost tangible enough to be touched. “I had to make a choice. And I chose you.”

Myrhia was speechless. What could she say to his words? That he shouldn’t have done it? That he should’ve left her to drown and save a hundred people or more? That he was wrong to do everything in his power to keep them together? That instead of clinging to love, he should’ve clung to his principles? No, she couldn’t say that. Not right now anyways. But the fact of the matter was that despite the rescue he performed, Myrhia was disappointed in Letho. Her will for life was screaming at her that she was foolish to think so, and yet she couldn’t shake off this realization that Letho Ravenheart wasn’t a knight on a white horse. He too was just a man.

They both had restless sleep that night, and when the morning came both felt more tired then they were when they went to bed on the night before.

[Iriah Caitrak]

Neither woman said anything to the other on the walk back to the Inn. There was nothing to say, there weren’t enough words on the face of this planet to take away the pain and the loss. Still, Ira found herself unable to cry at the loss of her friend, she found an empty place within herself she was somehow stuck in, a place that seemed to absorb all her feelings and leave her dry and dead on the outside. Eyes that should have been swirling with their usual silver were not dull and grey, reflecting her dour mood.

Pushing through the door to the Inn, Ira went up to the rooms they’d all previously rented and walked in. All she wanted to do was collapse on the bed and never wake up again, but she had to have a shower first. She was sweaty and covered in ash. Grabbing the bathroom first, Ira took a quick, cold shower. Washing away the dirt and the ash from the fires and trying to wash away the image of Uri falling into the flames, but no matter how hard she tried it wouldn’t go away. At least Messia would not be plagued by such an image; she was blissfully ignorant to how painful a death Uri might have suffered.

Leaving the washroom and watching Messia enter it without a word, Ira quickly dressed in clean clothes and threw her dirty ones in a corner. She was starring out the window and looking at the distant sky where the sun was beginning just beginning to set. Walking over and opening it, Ira was surprised to see the Innkeeper outside her door with a large platter of food in his hands.

“We heard how you helped Irrakam today and we just wanted to give you our thanks.”

Ira gave a man a genuine smile for his kindness and took the food, thanking him in return and wondering to herself just how he’d heard about it. News probably travelled fast in Irrakam and Messia and her did stand out being Calerians.

“Do you think you could do me a favour?” Ira asked him.

He looked surprised but didn’t hesitate, “Of course, what do you need.”

“A few hours after the sun goes down and it’s cooler outside I would like for you to send someone to wake me, but just me, not Messia.”

He nodded his head, thanked her once again for what she’d done for Irrakam and left her in peace. Closing the door in his wake, Ira set the tray of food down on the table and turned towards the bathroom door as she heard Messia turn the water off. Seconds later she came out and threw her dirty clothes in the corner then got dressed.

“Where’d the food come from?” She asked as she brushed out her long red hair.

“The Innkeeper, as thanks for what we did today.”

Neither one of them was very hungry but they each knew they had to eat to keep their strength up. So they picked and they munched as much as they could before they crawled into their own beds and tried to sleep. The third empty bed in the room and the items around it a reminder to what they’d lost today, something that made it hard to sleep. Eventually exhaustion overtook the both of them and they passed out just as the last of the sun disappeared under the horizon and Irrakam was left in darkness.

--------------------------

Hours later, how many Ira didn’t know, but she heard a gentle knocking on her door that stirred her from her sleep. She couldn’t remember what she’d been dreaming about. Standing up, Ira walked over and opened the door; a woman was standing on the other side with a candle in her hand. Nodding her thanks, Ira closed the door but not all the way. Quickly she dressed in more appropriate clothing for walking around outside in, then grabbed her rucksack and quietly left the room and Messia where she was sleeping.

Walking through the deserted streets of Irrakam at night was rather peaceful and drastically different to the bustling of it during the day. It was like an entirely different city at night and it helped calm her for what she was about to do. Making her way to the crumbled buildings, Ira took a deep breath, took off her rucksack and began climbing what was once a building. Every now and then a rock shifted, something crumbled and something collapsed under her weight forcing her to act quickly. But the stones were no longer blistering hot, the cool night air of Fallien cooling them.

Once at the top, Ira used the light of the moon and the stairs to see if she could find a way through the rubble and down to where Uri’s body probably was. No such luck though, and so painstakingly she began to remove stone after stone, tossing them over the side as she went, hoping for a way below.

Hours passed and soon the light of the sun began to creep up over the horizon and soon it would be too hot for her to work again. But she’d made progress, she’d gotten through some of the smaller rocks and could see a small clearing in the rocks, something that was not filled with rubble and the hole was almost big enough for her to fit through. However, as the sun rose and the people began to emerge from their homes, Ira quickly realized something was not right.

Carefully picking her way down, she grabbed her rucksack and flung it over a shoulder then approached the first group of people she found.

“What’s going on?”

One of the faces she recognized as someone she’d helped yesterday.

“We don’t know, The Keep has been taken over, it’s sealed shut and no one can get inside. Worst yet, no one knows where The Jya is.”

Cursing, Ira raced off to local law enforcement building. Once there she quickly explained the situation to them. In turn, they quickly began to mobilize a force some kind of force to storm The Keep.

“I’m going with you.” Ira said.

“Look, thank for the information, but we can handle this on our own.”

Ira eyed the woman in front of her; she was quickly putting on armour to cover her chest, forearms and shins. A sword strapped to her back and one at her side, other melee weapons going about her body.

“You need all the help you can get, a foreign enemy has invaded the freaking Keep!”

The woman gave her a quick once over as if wondering if she could even fight.

“Alright, grab some weapons. There are secret underground passages that we can use to get into The Keep in case of such a thing as this. The only problem is they’re a maze and only the Jya and a few of her priestesses know their way around down there.”

Ira smirked, “I’ve fought off legions of corrupted souls in a place you’re better off believing doesn’t exist, if you think an underground maze is going to scare me you’ve got another thing coming.”

There were a few murmurs from some of the other warriors gearing up, not all of them women either, a few men strapping on armour and weapons as well.

“You’re a Calerian, aren’t you?” Someone from behind Brye asked.

“In the flesh.”

Brye shook her head, “Well I’ll be damned. I didn’t think that tribe even existed.”

A lot of people in Fallien thought her tribe long since extinct but she didn’t really care.

Someone from behind Brye stepped out, a male, a face she recalled from the other day and he seemed to recall her too.

“I remember you from yesterday,” he said to her, “thanks for what you did.”

“Thank me after we save The Jya.”

[Letho]

“You won’t save anybody by charging in there like a stampede.” Letho’s voice was regal and frigid, its power successfully shushing every single person in the barracks of the local law, where the locals started to gather some sort of militia. Heads turned almost in a jerk, most present as tense as guitar wires, their eyes acknowledging the bulky figure that stood in the doorframe with his gauntleted hands folded in front of his chest. Behind his back, like a note of warning, the gunblade dubbed theLawmaker stood in its holster, together with his bastard sword. Myrhia, never too fond of showmanship and public presentation, stood behind him, holding her spear.

The Marshal heard the news about the occupation of the Keep the second he got up. How couldn’t he when a town crier that bawled the announcement under his window roused him from the thin sleep? He couldn’t understand the words, but the commotion was pretty self-explanatory, clearly stating that something has gone terribly awry. The innkeeper gave him the details, then told him to stay out of this because this was Fallien business and that they would take care of it. Letho, of course, didn’t listen to the man. After all, he knew something nobody in Irrakam did. He knew that this was the Coalition’s mischief and since he was sent to investigate the activity of this alleged organization, he had no choice but to arm himself and make his way to the closest barracks. Myrhia, though still rather tired and pensive about the events that transpired yesterday, followed.

“With all due respect, stranger, but what the hell do you know about Irrakam or Jya’s Keep? This isn’t your battle, so back off.” the man that seemed to have some sort of a rank spoke from the crowd, enmity amplified by the stress more then apparent in his tone.

“I know that this is no ordinary attack.” the Marshal responded, stepping inside confidently, his demeanor perfectly solemn. Not even when he saw a familiar face in the crowd that reminded him of the treachery of Uriahd did his face change. “I know that the organization that is responsible for the fires yesterday is behind this as well. They are well organized. They will anticipate your bullheaded move.”

“And what organization is this?”

“I’m not at liberty to speak of that. What I will speak of is the plan that could enable you to successfully infiltrate the keep and hopefully save your Jya.” Letho said, oblivious to the frowns and itchy fingers around him that didn’t appreciate a foreigner telling them what to do and how to do it. “If you take a contingent of your militia and feign an attack on the front gate, they will turn their eyes there. It might be enough for a small group to slip past their defenses and into these tunnels you speak of.”

“And I guess you want to be in this group, siahd!”

“Correction, I will be in this group.” the Marshal spoke, and before the leader of the local guards had the chance to rebuke what was said, Letho’s hand slipped into the interior of his pocket and produced a folded piece of paper. He lowered it on the wobbly desk. “This is an official letter of the Fallien embassy in Radasanth, signed by your ambassador, which promises full cooperation of the local law enforcement. Now, you can either accept it or we could take it to your superior.”

The gray-haired captain of the Irrakam guard picked up the letter in his gloved fingers, skimmed over it, noticing both the seal of the Fallien Government and one of The Assembly. He tossed the paper back at Letho. “This is bureaucratic bullshit.”

The dark knight pocketed the letter sedately. “Maybe so. But that bureaucracy is over both of our heads. Now, you can either take me as an ally and we can go remedy this situation or we can keep arguing here while the life of your Queen is at risk.”

“Alright.” the man finally conceded, though mistrust never departed from his glare. “But I’ll keep my eye on you, siahd.” He then turned to one of his sergeants, a huge mountain of a man that seemed to be still in his early twenties. “Alikam, you will be in charge of this fake attack. Make it look good, but get out if it gets too dangerous. Set up a perimeter around the bridges and gates and try to take them from distance as much as possible.”

Letho, satisfied with the outcome, pushed his way through the arming crowd, opting not to speak with Ira for the time being. What could he say to her anyways? ‘Sorry’ could only go so far and it got bland if it was uttered too many times. Besides, he was rather certain that that woman didn’t want to hear it anyways. Instead he exited the barracks and entered the gradually growing heat of the Irrakam morning, waiting for the locals to get armed and ready for another day or fighting. Yesterday they had a less tangible enemy, the one with a flimsy aim that sprayed devastation all over their capitol. Today their enemy struck the heart.

“You know, you could sometimes try the friendly approach?” Myrhia said once he was outside, eliciting a smirk on his bearded face. “People respond to a proposition much better then they do to an... Hey, is that Ira?”

It was, of course. Letho hoped that the redhead wouldn’t notice the Fallien woman from yesterday, but Myrhia’s emerald eyes spotted the woman in the crowd that was gathering around the captain. Without hesitation that only further depicted her still childish innocence, the willowy ex-slave made her way through the armored militia until she stood before the confident female. “Ira, I... I’m really sorry about Uriahd. If there is anything we can do...” she spoke and in her eyes there was this moist spark, pure and sympathetic, an eerily glitter that whispered in its own wordless manner that Myrhia meant every word of what she said.

[Iriah Caitrak]

She couldn’t believe it. Not again and not in this place. She had everything under control, she knew what she was doing and she didn’t need him to help her with any of it. Seeing his face only reminded her of Uri, and right now that was the last thing she needed on her mind. Death did odd things to people and Ira did not want her head clouded with it when she was about to run into The Keep, which was overrun with enemy soldiers. And frankly she didn’t care about the bureaucracy of Fallien or of Corone, she didn’t fall under either of those and neither of them restrained her, but they restrained everyone else here.

If only she had the courage she invade The Keep by herself and she knew of just a way she could get in without a single person even seeing or sensing her. Purgatory. But that option was not open to her. Even if she did somehow manage to get inside she wouldn’t know where to go and she would be a force of one up against a many, a many she knew nothing about.

By Sanctuary why was she being punished and forced to work with this man again? Why couldn’t he just leave her in peace, just leave her damned country and never come back?

After his speech was over, Ira, Brye and the Captain of this group fell into conversation again, Ira mentioning yesterday to them yet not disclosing anything about Uri or his abandonment, that wouldn’t help the situation.

“By the way, you never gave us your name.” Brye said to her.

“I’m sorry, Ira of Shinkara,” she smiled solemnly and inclined her head.

“Captain Eagis, you’ve already met Brye, she’s my second in command. Alikam, who’ll be leading this fake attack is one of my best men, I trust him with me life. We’ll be going with you and the siahd into The Keep.”

“His name’s Letho Ravenheart,” Ira said to him, “And the small woman at his side is Myrhia.”

As if on cue the skinny little redhead emerged before Ira, giving sympathetic words with eyes that truly meant it. But they had no effect on her.

So Uri died because he wanted to save this woman…

“Actions speak louder than words, and Letho’s actions will forever speak louder than any apology you or he can give me. He made his choice and no matter what you say to me I know what kind of man he is and no good deed done in this country after yesterday will erase it from my mind because I will wake up every morning knowing she is gone, while he’ll still have you.”

She didn’t wait to see what kind of reaction her words evoked in the tiny woman. Pushing passed Myrhia and through the crowd, Ira left the law enforcement headquarters. She needed to get out of there and get away from all the people. Once outside, Ira took a quivering breath then let out a scream of frustration, spun around and punched the wall. Her small fist impacted on hard stone, splitting the skin around and in between her knuckles. Not caring about the pain, she drew his arm back and threw her fist against the wall again and again and again until she had to force herself to stop for fear of breaking one of her knuckles or fingers. At this point her hand was bloodied, bruised and swollen, but she didn’t care, she could barely feel it anyway.

Death did odd things to people and it was numbing her.

Ira was leaning against the wall when Captain Eagis came out, “We’re sending Alikam and those engaging in the fake attack out now—what happened to your hand? And more importantly what happened between you and those two siahd’s yesterday?”

“Don’t ask, are you and Brye ready for what’s next?”

The Captain smirked, “Always, but you don’t, where are your weapons and armour?”

“Oh, we Calerians have a few tricks up our sleeves. I’m armoured enough for fighting the living and you don’t need to worry about weapons, I’m armed to the teeth.”

She actually was armed to the teeth considering she could form however many weapons she needed with the Serena Crystal, Captain Eagis just didn’t know that and she didn’t plan on telling him. He just looked at her sceptically and nodded his head. Sceptic or not it seemed he was going to trust that she knew what she was doing.

Grabbing some medical supplies from her rucksack, Ira wrapped her hand in cloth as she watched Alikam and his fighters exit the building and move out towards The Keep. It was then at that moment she realized Letho was also outside, she hadn’t seen or noticed him before, probably because she’d been to caught up in the moment. For a moment she wondered if he’d seen her little outburst, then shrugged the thought off. It didn’t matter either way; she was just going to have to put up with him for the time being. Then, hopefully, she’d never have to see him again. Odd, how every time she met someone from Corone things ended up badly. First Kadarus and now these two, she was having no luck with that region as it seemed.

“Alright, let’s move out. The Underground passages are near the waterway, hopefully any guards nearby will end up being routed to defend against the frontal attack.”

“If not, there’s always plan B.” Ira said to Captain Eagis with a calculating smirk.

“There’s a plan B?”

“There’s always a plan B when you’ve got a Calerian around.”

Captain Eagis not knowing what to make of this remark shrugged it off for the time being and began moving out, Ira following at his side with Brye beside her.

[Letho]

Ira’s indurate reply devastated Myrhia and even as the Fallien woman rudely pushed past her and through the door, the feeble redhead was swept by gruesome guilt. Because Ira was right; she should’ve died yesterday. For so many times, Letho and she faced a dreadful peril and every time she was of no use, always either getting in the way or getting in trouble. And while on previous occasions her salvation came at no particular cost, yesterday a woman lost her life because of it. So ultimately, it was her fault all along. If she didn’t tag along with Letho, he wouldn’t have to watch over her all the time and instead could use that time to aid others. Myrhia always thought that she wasn’t good enough for somebody like him and while he always strongly opposed any such connotations, the recent developments started to assure the redhead that it might be truth. And this realization combined with the burden of guilt managed to kill her ever-high spirits.

Letho, on the other hand, slowly grew tired of this guilt game, especially once he saw Ira lash out on Myrhia. He didn’t murder Uri, he didn’t make her follow him through the flames and while he was willing to take the heat for the desertion of the others, it was something that would haunt him. Him, not Myrhia. The redhead was faultless in all of this and as such didn’t deserve the bitterness that Ira had aplenty. But more out of respect for Uri’s death then because of anything else, Letho kept his mouth shut and watched as the violet-haired woman with the garlic on her tongue took out her anger on the barracks wall.

Captain Eagis emerged from the packed barracks shortly after Ira’s lost battle with the sturdy stone and he was followed by his second in command and ultimately Myrhia who, after speaking with Ira, was left standing in the armed crowd. The redhead looked lethargic and wistful, the vibrant spark in her eyes lost somewhere between the lines of Ira’s brusque answer. She didn’t cry, but Letho knew her almost as much as she knew him and he knew that she was at the verge of doing so. It was the direness of the situation that prevented her from doing so, from falling on her knees before Ira and beg her for forgiveness. Letho would never even think of doing that, but Myrhia was a crier and an innocent soul that couldn’t handle the fact that people hated her.

“She’ll never forgive us, Letho.” she said in a soft tone while the Captain did his final preparations with his second in command and Ira. “She’ll never forgive me.”

Letho’s ominous-looking gauntlets gently landed on both of her shoulders, his head bowing in order to be at her level. “Now, listen to me. What happened yesterday wasn’t your fault. You did nothing wrong. But where death walks, callousness walks in its wake. Trust me, I would know.”

Usually Myrhia would smile and maybe even playfully accuse him that he was an expert at being a stoic, emotionless grouch, but today she could only nod and shrug her shoulders. She wanted so badly to get on Ira’s good side, to offer her empathy that pulsed with every beat of her little heart, and yet the words that the woman spoke to her were so coldly definite, so irrevocable. To Letho, Ira was just another stranger that would have a grudge against him at the end of the day, but Myrhia cared too much about everything to just walk over it. So when the two of them followed the Fallien trio, the redhead seemed as exanimate as if the chains of the slavers were once again clasped around her wrists and ankles.

The small infiltration unit made out of five volunteers walked rather casually at first, but the closer they got to the wall that separated Jya’s Keep from the rest of the city, the slower and more tentative their gait became. Ultimately, they came to a full stop behind what seemed like a rather ordinary house that was the last one in the street that looked directly at the wall that loomed over it and the waterway beneath it. Jya’s Keep was basically a fort, a rather sizeable one, but a fort nonetheless. Fallien constructors managed to divert the portion of the river to flow directly around the keep, creating a moat, but given its shallowness, it was a mere ornamental detail. The ramparts went almost precisely to the water level. The only entrance to the Keep were several drawbridges that led through steel-plated gates.

An assortment of shouts and screams announced that Alikam and his troops started executing their diversion. Captain Eagis knew that this was their cue, but even as he made a step out of the hiding and towards the waterway, he instantly recoiled and gestured to the others to stop in their tracks. Letho disobeyed the order just long enough to stick his head around the edge of the building and ascertain the situation, all in one glance.

“There are two guards on the walls. We mustn’t let them see us.” the captain spoke and his second in command, a rather imposing woman with sun-kissed tan, nodded, taking off the long bow that hung over shoulder. Letho’s hand steadied her though.

“There are three of them, captain. The third one is in the shadow of the watchtower. We need to take them out all at the same time, or one of them will raise an alarm.” the Marshal spoke, giving Ira a rather lengthy look, expecting her to interject. However, given the fact that the woman had no ranged weapons on her – or no weaponry whatsoever – he continued. “Brye, you take the rightmost one. I’ll take care of the other two. Myrhianna, daggers.”

The redhead didn’t react instantly. She was too deep in thought, her eyes fleeing to Ira every time the woman didn’t look at her. Once Letho reiterated his order, she snapped out of it though, puling a pair of throwing daggers from the holster on her thigh and handing them over with an embarrassed smile. The swordsman took both in one hand, aligned them diligently under his thumb so that there was a fraction of an inch between the pair of twin weapons, and then nodded to the Fallien woman.

They jumped out of the shadow of the awning simultaneously, Brye aiming her already strung arrow and sending it immaculately towards her target some forty feet above. Letho wasn’t too far behind. By the time she released her projectile, the Marshal pulled his hand back and sent the pair of daggers spinning through the air. They scudded upwards, taking almost coinciding diagonal trajectories, but some ten feet before they would reach the crown of the fortifications, they separated as if an invisible hand pushed them. One took the guard in the temple, the other imbedding itself in the neck of the sentry that stood leisurely leant against the tower wall. All three figures slumped down almost in sync.

He didn’t wait for captain Eagis to take the lead again. With the coast clear, Letho led the way down the slanted bank of the moat and into the flowing water with Myrhia following close behind. They both footslogged through the clear, neck-deep water as fast as they could given the fact that they were fully armed - the Marshal holding his gunblade out of the water and the redhead moving her toes to keep her mouth above the water - but the moat itself wasn’t too wide, so within a minute they found their way to the small round outlet half filled with water. They found some firm footing there, water still up to their waist and slightly less pure then the one outside, but at least they breached the first defenses without a hitch. However, the tunnel they entered led into a rather spacious underground room with at least ten passages leading from it. With the light being scarce and given the fact that the only knowledge of where to go next came from his gut feeling, Letho turned to the captain and his companions.

“So, I’m guessing you know which way we ought to go, captain?”

[Iriah Caitrak]

She knew she’d been hard on the scrawny little redhead. Her anger, the very anger she said she could do without, had taken the best of her and she’s spoken without thought. But there was nothing the Calerian could do about it, apologizing was not within her at the moment, nothing was within her at the moment. Just this hollow space and she didn’t want it to fill with anger and hate, that could destroy a person.

Leaving against a random wall outside The Keep, Ira could feel the eyes of the redhead on her and could catch glimpses of her out of the corner of her eye. Apparently, her words had affected Myrhia and Ira wasn’t sure if she felt remorse or gratification at that fact. It wasn’t her fault what had happened, it wasn’t even entirely Letho’s either. A combination of choices that resulted in one outcome, because that’s what life was all about when you got down to it, choices.

Right now, her choice was to push anything about Uri aside. There were other things she needed to concern herself with and the dead was not one of, not while she was with the living.

Coming back from her thoughts into the moment, Ira heard Letho and Captain Eagis talking about the guards on the rampart and taking them out as quickly and quietly as possible, before any of them could sound an alarm. Letho turned to her as if he expected her to interject on any of this or perhaps jump up and down for joy at the prospect of killing someone. She didn’t and she never would. Though trained in combat—and trained well—she was bred to fight the dead, not the living and a human life was something she had never taken before, nor did she plan on doing it anytime soon.

Once the attack was over, Ira moved out with the others, suffering from a brief moment of panic as she looked at the moat before her. However, the moment faded as she realized it was ornamental, standing on her toes the water was just at the base of her neck and though annoying she didn’t have to swim, or try to anyway since she couldn’t.

Keeping her eyes ahead of her the Calerian didn’t glance to the rampart where the fallen guards were. She knew all three of them were dead, not because she’d watched the attack—she hadn’t—but because she could sense all three of their souls hovering by what had once been their bodies. The Calerian also felt it when they left this plane of existence to wherever their destination was, Sanctuary or Abyss, she didn’t know and frankly she didn’t really care. They weren’t staying behind and they weren’t in Purgatory, therefore they weren’t her problem.

Inside the tunnel, still waist in deep water, the small band of saviours stopped in their tracks realizing they had ten different choices before them and any one of them could be the way.

This was not what she’d expected when Brye had mentioned an underground maze of tunnels. Still, she had confidence that they could make it through and get to the Jya and something else…

“No, as I told Ira earlier, only Jya and a few of her Priestess’s know the way down here. There are multiple exits and entrances; really we could end up anywhere in The Keep or not even inside it. We’ll just have to pray Survani be with us and guide us in the right direction.” Captain Eagis said in response to Letho.

Ira on the other hand didn’t trust Survani or any other of the Fallien Gods to guide or help them in this endeavour. She’d seen too much of what others didn’t even believe in to even hope that those high beings cared about them or what happened to them. No, they were on their own for this and luck be with them.

“Am azraya yuddhas trae ajman.”*

“Am azraya yuddhas?” Eagis looked at her incredulously.

It wasn’t only gut instinct. There was also the fact that she could see the slightly translucent figure of a Priestess standing in the shadows watching them, but she wasn’t about to tell Eagis or anyone else for that matter. Whoever she was, she quickly realized Ira could see her and motioned for her to follow into the tunnel. Ira nodded her head to the soul. Luck was on their side today and so was the soul of a woman who knew more about these tunnels then they did, if not the way into the heart of The Keep.

“Na, am azraya yuddhas, te ta.”

She didn’t wait for protests or any other suggestion. This was the way they needed to go.

Surprisingly the soul didn’t speak to her, just began meandering through the tunnels, taking turn after turn and Ira quickly realized what a daunting and possible impossible task this would have been without her help. Every now and then she glanced back at Ira, who smiled tentively in return, all the while wondering how she’d died, why she was down here and why she wouldn’t move on. Something she would have to remedy by the end of this. It was just odd for the soul wasn’t speaking; normally they talked a lot when they finally found someone who could hear and see them. Still, everyone was different; perhaps she had nothing to say.

The water had slowly began to thin out the more they travelled through the tunnels, what had been up to rib cage before was now lapping against her hips. It made walking a more sluggish task, but she ignored it as best she could. Fallien were not used to water, she was used to walking through sand, which didn’t provide resistance, just slid out from beneath you.

Suddenly, Ira thought she heard the light sound of a click and the soul in front of her spun around wide-eyed and before she even spoke a single word Ira got the message.

“Trap!”

She’d been through this before, but damn it, where was it coming from? Too many thoughts, too many questions, too many possibilities and not enough time. Arrows shot out from the wall at them, Ira was into way skilled enough to catch or knock them away. She did the only thing she could do hoping to avoid them, dive down into the water. Holding her breath for as long as she could, which really wasn’t that long, probably only a good ten or fifteen seconds. Ira came to the surface, Brye following after her, her heart sinking the moment her head left the water.

Eagis had reacted fast enough, his chest and stomach pierced by the small arrows. Ira and Brye rushed over to him but there was nothing they could do. The arrow had pierced his lung and was extremely close to his heart. He probably had seconds.

“Captain, hang in there…”

He gave a bitter smile as a small trail of blood dripped down from the corner of his mouth, “No getting out of this one…Brye, you’re in charge now…” His words sounded gargled, as if he lungs were filling with his blood and Ira could tell he was having and difficult time breathing. But that wasn’t going to kill him, the blood loss was. His skin normally tanned was as pale as the moon. He gave one more attempt at breath and then Ira watched the life leave his eyes, his body slumping into the water.

Brye turned away, Ira kept watching as his soul was torn from his body. He looked exactly how he had in death. There were no arrows within him, but his clothes were torn where they had gone through and smeared with blood. Blood that was beginning to mix into the water they were standing in, staining it.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I forgot about the traps…”

Ira glanced back at the soul of the Priestess and her muttered apology. She couldn’t tell if she was speaking to her or to the soul of Eagis, who looked from Brye to the Priestess and then down to her.

“What they say about Calerian’s is true then?”

“It is…” Ira said to him.

He smiled at her, “Tell Brye she’ll make a great Captain and tell her to stop crying, damn it. I can never stand to see a woman cry, it’s heartbreaking.”

Ira nodded her head to him, “Go in peace, Eagis.”

With that he disappeared, a black and red butterfly left in the soul’s place for a moment before it too left.

“Captain Brye,” The other woman looked up at her with sorrow in her eyes, “let’s move out, we’ve still got Jya to save, we’ll cry over the dead later.” She didn’t say it harshly, just resolutely. They needed to move.

Walking head of the others, Ira nodded to the soul of the Priestess still with them, “continue please.”

“I’m sorry…I forgot about the traps.”

“It’s okay, but please, continue…”

The soul nodded her head to Ira and continued on into the passage.




(*“Guy instinct, third passage.”
“Gut instinct?”
“Yep, gut instinct, let’s go.”)

[Letho]

Letho expected to be kept out of the loop given the rather brassy manner in which he forced himself into the infiltrating group. So when captain and Ira collaborated on which path they should take, the Marshal wasn’t surprised that they did so in their native tongue. He wasn’t able to decipher the meaning of the short exchange, but it was quite clear given the intonation and the facial expressions that the Calerian had a bit more insight in the underground passages then Eagis. So when they moved into the passage that didn’t seem significantly dissimilar to all the other, it was the lead of the footsure Ira that they followed. Even though there was no map in her hands and she didn’t seem to have previous knowledge of the mazelike passages, she still led the way as if she knew exactly which turns they ought to take. To Letho it looked a little bit like taking a shot and hoping for the best, but given the fact that they seemed to be making some progress – keeping a direction that more or less took them further towards the interior of palace – he followed wordlessly, lugging his massive gunblade on his shoulder.

Ira’s lead seemed uncannily impeccable... until they walked right into a trap. The Marshal heard a faint click filtered through the water that reached just to his mid-thigh and his uncanny perception managed to catch a glimpse of the sprung trap. The walls that seemed to be made of solid stone suddenly became perforated with thousand of tiny holes and it was highly unlikely that they would start pouring candy all over them.

“Myri, get down!” he shouted, throwing himself forward and extending an arm that gathered Myrhia and pulled her down. She squalled shortly before both of their bodies dove below the greenish, stale-smelling surface of the water, successfully evading the torrent of bolts that whistled above their heads. They remained underwater for a couple of seconds, Letho calm and composed and the redhead wriggling in his grasp, struggling to get some air. His tackle caught her unprepared and she never had the time to inhale. Luckily for her, the walls stopped spewing deadly arrows in a matter of seconds, so before long she was allowed to jump back to her feet and get some necessary oxygen. She coughed wetly, trying to expel the water she accidentally took in, but despite this inconvenience, she was still luckier then captain Eagis.

Leant against the opposite wall, with a pair of projectiles imbedded in his torso, the gray-haired veteran was done for. Not even Letho and his healing abilities could help him with injuries that would momentarily kill a lesser man. The Marshal moved to the man, took of one of his gauntlets and wrapped his bare hand around Eagis shoulder, squeezing it tightly. There seemed to be no apparent effect, but Letho could see ease in the captain’s eyes, and even surprise that he suddenly felt no pain despite his excruciating wounds. He perished in relative calm and it was the most the dark knight could do for the man at this point.

“Can’t you do something for him, Letho?” Myrhia - who finally managed to normalize her breathing and recover from diving for her life - said, approaching tentatively. The swordsman leant forward, closed the captain’s eyes and shook his head.

“No, he’s gone.”

Letho expected for Brye’s reaction to the death of her superior. However, what he didn’t expect to see was Ira going around the bend all of the sudden. Her eyes observantly peered in front of her as she seemed to have a talk with an empty space, ultimately saying goodbye to Eagis but not looking at the cadaver beside her. Uncertain what caused this dementia and a little peeved with the fact that such a person was leading this chancy endeavor, the Corone Marshal decided to put his foot down.

“Hold on!” he said, stopping the newly appointed captain and surprising Myrhia. “What exactly is going on here? I don’t mind being kept in the dark and following your lead, but you just led us into a trap, Ira. Do you know where you’re going or are just playing a guessing game?”

“She’s a Calerian.” Brye spoke before Ira got a chance to reply. “They can see and hear spirits.”

“Oh, I see. So we’re following someone who’s hearing voices?” Letho said.

“Letho!” Myrhia reprimanded him, her tiny voice echoing in the watery tunnel. “She led us this far. And it’s not like we have a choice other then to follow her.”

Though the swordsman’s face failed to reveal any emotions, the redhead knew there was something brewing behind his brown eyes. Ultimately, he nodded. “Fine. But we’ll play it safe. You and me walk in front...” he said, approaching Ira. “...and Brye and Myrhia follow some ten paces behind. That way the next trap won’t get all of us.”

[Iriah Caitrak]

Scepticism over her abilities was something she was used to hearing. It didn’t make it easier though. What she saw and heard was just as real as what anyone else saw and heard. It wasn’t her fault that someone else did not believe in an afterlife or that the soul even continued to live on after death or that such a thing as seeing them was even possible. Whatever someone else believed, it was possible to see the dead and she was one of the few that could, a few that came in abundance in her tribe. Whether or not the rest of Althanas believed her was not her concern, doing her job as a Calerian was and finishing this mission was.

“I’m sorry about the traps. It’s been so long that I forgot about them, I mean I’ve been wandering around here for so long and none of them ever went off and…”

“It’s alright…do you know where the rest of them are?”

“Yes, there are only a few more, we’ve actually passed by most of them without a problem. I’ll make sure to say something as we get close to them and how to avoid them.”

“Thank you.”

Smiling lightly, the soul of the Priestess once again began leading the way through the tunnels. It was such a strange thing to see her slightly translucent figure disappear into water that went right through her, never touching her or even knowing she was there.

“Whether or not you believe I can see the dead matters not to me, Letho. Keep in mind though; that the dead remember everything from life, especially how they die. Especially when they die fighting a small war with a band of ‘mercenaries’ or, wait, perhaps I should say slavers and three outsiders in an abandoned mine.”

Continuing forward, Ira was occasionally stopped by the Priestess who told the group to keep to one side or the other, the centre, or don’t step on that, jump over that if you can. The usual stuff to avoid being impaled, crushed to death or drowned. None of those sounding very appealing so Ira followed the Priestess to the letter, though the water had receded about two tunnels back leaving them to finally walk upon dry stone. After a good twenty minutes or more—Ira wasn’t sure—and a crap load of passages and turns the Priestess finally lead them to what appeared to be a dead end. The Calerian could just hear Letho’s smart-ass remark about this but before he could say anything the Priestess pointed to one of the stones. It looked no different than any other stone; it didn’t even have a different colour.

“Depress this and the wall will unlock, pushing on it will open it.”

“Where will this take us out?”

The Priestess thought about it a moment as if trying to remember, “This one leads to the Grand Hall.”

Seemed like a good place to come out of.

Taking a deep breath, Ira closed her eyes and concentrated for a moment. Even with her new abilities it was still not very easy to summon her armour in the physical realm, which always amazed her. In Purgatory it automatically covered her body protecting her from whatever may be lurking nearby, yet here in the Physical realm it required great concentration to bring the armour out of it’s hiding. As a sheen of sweat broke on her forehead it finally worked. Ira breathing a sigh of relief as her entire left arm was encased in metal, the armguard on her right forearm acquiring some metal plating, a chest plate covered her, the Irenian Crystal in the centre of it. And her shin guards gaining metal plating as well. A piece of material also came down to cover the lower half of her face, though this was not necessary in the Physical realm she didn’t bother with it.

Nodding her head to the Priestess, Ira pushed against the stone, surprised as it gave in just a little bit a light click resounded through the tunnel. Pushing against the wall with her shoulder, Ira slowly eased the wall open bit by bit. Once it was open enough for her she squeezed through leaving the others to follow behind her. The room she now found herself in was massive, especially considering how tight some of those tunnels had been. But cover was not a problem considering the room was mostly open, the door opened behind one of the large tapestries, easily hiding them from view…for now.