I stared out across the fields, down from the calming hillside, past the woodlands and forests crowding the Nadya River to our south, to see the grey, looming walls of Novakrayu. Distant though it was, anyone could see it was a city of scope and ancient history, standing tall like a monolith in some decayed ruin, proud and unbending. It was home to many thousands, my new Targul ally, Emalia's priestly associates, Protis with its new mind, and, hopefully, a contingent sent from New Petha to help resist my sister.

Never before had I despised the sight of a city so. For it meant the journey was over, the stalling, the slow march of Dead and supplies kept hidden under sheets. I could guess at Maecia's plans, confident of her intentions, but kept entirely in the dark about her strategems. Not that there was much room for subtlety with the hundreds of Reavers. Skin the color of dusty stone and dreary skies, eyes empty for all emotion except hunger, bodies stronger than any man, more savage than any beast. A formidable force, surpassing in number the host I brought into Nova. And what destruction I wrought there, even if of a different, perhaps weaker composition.

We were waiting in a small hamlet near a stream and millpond, but a few hours out from Novakrayu. Maecia kept her distance from me since our conversation, so I knew little of why we could be waiting. Surely it only gave her opposition more time to reinforce and rally themselves? A pitched battle was hardly in her best interest, considering the potential coalition of forces she might be forced to face. Better to strike in the chaos of a sudden attack, offering no room for quarter. Did she know of a secret entrance? One like Vasia's various tunnels? I'd asked Emalia and Sovina this, but they didn't know of any way in besides the gates. Even the river offered no convenient alternative as it didn't pierce the city.

So why stall?

Ignatia, Emalia, Sovina, and I waited outside a small hut, resting on the grassy ground after the long hike here, having finished a lean meal of bread stolen from the local villager Maecia had run off. We were watched by Dead and humans, though the latter gave us space enough to talk. Why? I could not say. Perhaps Maecia was so confident in her plan she didn't think she had to worry about us, so she left her orders lax, knowing her guards feared us.

I watched her speaking with the humans who served her. New ones rode in along the road to Novakrayu every day. When there were once no more than two dozen, now we had fifty. Not enough to take a city, not by a massive margin, but enough to be dangerous in the right circumstances, particularly as most of them seemed martially capable, bearing armor and arms like mercenaries. Like the good men she killed.

Do not forget that. Remember her crimes, I told myself. It was important to bolster my resolve, considering what I'd have to do when the time was right.

"Maybe she has an army," Sovina said with a shrug. "She's been alive a long time. Why not try to build some kind of network in that time?"

Emalia nodded thoughtfully, frowning off. "But what incentive to people have to follow her if she's of the isle? Especially if she wants to sacrifice a whole city?"

"Maybe it's about faith? Or loyalty? Or some sort of grand purpose she's pawned off on them."

"Many do not like Sorcery," Ignatia added in Vasian, improving in it every day as she was. "They see it as evil. Kill Novakrayu may be lesser evil."

Emalia stood, stretching. "I hear your arguments. I would just hope people could be better than that, but then again, I would be a hypocrite to demand much of others."

"You aren't a hypocrite," Sovina said, scowling. "You were possessed. There's a difference."

"Maybe so, but I still went along with it."

"No, not maybe. That wasn't your fault."

Emalia looked away, embarrassed. She, like I, was naturally quite hard on herself, and the concept of losing one's free will didn't quite mesh with her internal demands for flawlessness. "Okay. I submit." She laughed, though it was obviously forced, meant to misdirect her discomfort. "Still, to Daecinus's earlier questions, why wait for these loyal people? There has to be something else. Something the plan hinges on to succeed… Someone on the inside, maybe?"

"Not the priests, certainly," Sovina muttered.

"No, not anyone we know. Not even the Targul, I would think, given their desire to conquer the city, not destroy it. I would say someone from New Petha, except it's not as if they had a real presence before—"

She was cut off by a sudden advent of movement. A sense of alarm and preparedness.

We stood and stared about, searching for the source, when Ignatia spotted it, pointing into the northern distance. "There!" A small army was rounding a hillside a few miles away. How could they get so close? I glared at Maecia's back as she took the sight in, trying to figure out her angle.

There were banners flapping over a block of white-clad footmen. To their western flank, likely first sighted, was a contingent of horsemen with lances and spears, many of which were tipped with streaming ribbons that caught the light like shimmering water. They marched in a snaking column, making it difficult to count their forces, even though it was stretched out perpendicular to our position. Such a formation in relative close proximity revealed their professionalism and training, for it was hard to maneuver men into a proper shield wall under the pressure of a coming engagement. It was difficult to say from this distance, but I estimated a force of at least a few hundred.

Had they manifested out of nothing? They looked like foreign troops to me. Merkanian, perhaps, but I doubted the divided people of the region could muster such an army so quickly. So, why was it here?

But this was not all.

Exiting through the city's west-facing main gates came another force that I recognized instantly. Hundreds of horsemen in drab colors that would match the linen armor popular amongst the Targul, as well as the glint of metal masks that would fit into helmets, designating riders of import and station.

And finally, behind them, what could only be a rag-tag city militia following, in poor armor and carrying rough polearms and assorted tools.

Maecia and her small host were now facing the combined strength of thousands.

I did not see the New Pethans among them, but I doubted they would come in such a significant number anyway. Perhaps they marched in behind the others.

"Hey, guardsman," Sovina called to the one watching over them, now staring at the approaching armies. "Who are they ones in white?"

He turned from the approaching forces and stared at her, face slack, eyes wide. He shook his head and ran off, leaving us standing by the hut in mild confusion. The three others talked among themselves, trying to figure out how best to take advantage of this new turn of events. They assumed Maecia would lose and planned their next steps accordingly.

I was not so convinced, for I knew my sister. In the First Vasian War, I led the Dead, certainly, but my hand in strategy was only possible due to her precision and diligence. Maecia was a competent general, resourceful organizer, and an obsessive planner. Gather the opposition in one field to use them for the Spell? Souls agitated and prepared to fight were more difficult to work with than the merely fearful—not relevant for small Spells, but certainly for any larger castings she was prepared to do. But what could she do upon the battlefield? Did she not need the room under the temple made of bone to work the Grand Observatory from so far away?

No, I told myself, you're thinking like a Sorcerer. That was not Maecia. Sorcery was a means to an end, avoidable if at all possible. She wanted to gather the enemy in one spot, not to exploit them in some ritual, but to crush them entirely, for after, she would be nearly defenseless, as Sorcery would be essentially blocked. Did she want me to free Protis and warn them, gathering the opposition before her in one decisive pitched battle? A terrifying thought, for it meant she had much confidence in the outcome, which frightened me. And it also meant she had a greater strategem at play that I could not see. Something to tip the scales already set against her.

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Something strong enough to crush a coalition of armies.

"Daecinus."

I looked over and found Maecia standing close by. The three others had parted around her and were watching cautiously, keeping some distance as she stared at me with patient intent.

"It is time to part ways," she said. "The battle is about to begin."

I glanced toward the fields. It was true that the other armies were massing, and though it would be an hour before contact, she would want to prepare her battle lines and traps, whatever those were. "I imagine you have something to deal with these overwhelming numbers?"

"Naturally."

I nodded and collected myself, standing tall. "What do you intend with my companions, Maecia?"

"To let them go." She gestured past me, and I turned to see a small group of men and Reavers waiting to the hut's side. "They will escort you to the river, where you will board a ship meant to join mine once I am done in the city. Together, we will go to New Petha and rebuild there."

Because with your Spell, the Dead will be freed and chaos will reign. "It won't be enough. Without Sorcerers, we will not be able to face the Vasians."

"There is that chance."

I bit off my response. There would be no swaying her today. "Very well."

"Be off then," she said, waving a dismissive hand. "And wait for it to be done. We can fix what comes after."

"Of course." I turned to go, hiding the pained expression I carried.

"You're a poor liar, Daecinus. Don't be a fool."

"We must all do what we think is best, Sister," I said, marching off.

There was no turning back from this. No denying the unfortunate truth that, diametrically opposed as we were, only the force of arms could settle things. We both knew it, as much as we despised the fact. And so, I followed our new guards with my companions in tow, making for the Nadya river that lay south of us. The journey felt like a long one, knowledge of the coming battle and our growing distance stretching each second into impossible minutes. I considered fighting, then, but the Reavers were close to the others, and I did not trust my ability to neutralize them quickly enough to guarantee their safety.

"We need to get to the chamber," Emalia whispered.

"I know." I eyed the nearby humans and kept my voice low. "But I don't want to abandon those on the field. New Pethans will be here, fighting her."

"Yes, but—"

"Enough of that!" a guardsman shouted.

I curled my lip but said nothing. Is it wise to split, some of us taking the chamber, others trying to engage her in the field? I considered. Ignatia, Emalia, and Sovina made the most sense to pair, considering my relative strength as a Sorcerer, but the three of them could not stop Maecia. I didn't know if I could. But perhaps Emalia didn't have to stop her. All she needed to do was to break the chamber, preventing Maecia from committing the sacrifice and transferring the Soul energy back to the Grand Observatory. I still didn't know if such a thing was truly possible or just wild speculation but it was the best theory to go off of. We needed a possible counterplay, and that was all we had.

Well, that or hunting down Maecia and killing her, which I doubted we could accomplish, let alone without massive losses.

The river was covered by a thin forest with light underbrush and young trees, marking it as an area harvested too often for lumber. By the river was a small hamlet and dock bearing a few boats, with one that seemed prepared to set off, bearing a few sailors who regarded us warily. She really planned to send us off? I shook my head. For someone ready to commit such a brutal, horrendous act, Maecia did truly have her moments of weakness.

I suppose we were the same in that regard.

However, the dock and boats were not the only thing in this stretch of river. Nearby, mounted on horses, were twenty people of various ages, races, genders, all bearing different clothing and occasional bits of armor or weapons. I could have guessed at their unifying trait but I didn't need to, for many bore it upon their flesh: black, scrawling marks of Corruption. Some were in earlier stages than others, but all identifying them as those who've encountered Sorcery or dangerous Dead. They were Sorcerers—a gathered group of them, likely desperate for healing, or considering the stigma and fear against Sorcerers, possibly just wanting a place to belong and live. Maecia could offer them both, and depending on their ignorance, they might not even know what they were fighting for. I paused to wonder if anyone truly did.

"Move!" my guard said, shoving me forward.

So much for their fear of me. I glared at him but did as commanded, watching as the mounted Sorcerers moved off, directed by a man I recognized among Maecia's humans. Some sort of leader. Regardless, they rode north, and it was not hard to imagine their destination. The sudden arrival of so many Sorcerers could mean death for hundreds, shattering morale and sundering lines. Was this her secret weapon, so to speak? Or was there more? Assuming she had people inside Novakrayu to open the gates, Maecia didn't need more than this to win, for winning meant getting inside. Still, wouldn't she be trapped?

Then it struck me as we were shuffled onboard the ship, still surrounded closely: what if Maecia never intended on living this through? What if this Spell would kill her, and she knew it?

I didn't realize I'd stopped, considering that possibility, until one of the guards took me by the arm to haul me aboard. "She may want you alive," he grumbled, "but that doesn't mean accidents can't happen. You hear? So pick up your damn feet and—"

His voice was cut off by a gasp as he turned quickly, spear raising. All around, others gasped or shouted in alarm, preparing their weapons. I shifted to catch the source of their alarm.

Out in the trees, just beyond the small collection of huts, bursting through the brush to smash aside a surprised guardsman, clad in new iron armor, splattered with blood, was Protis. The Soulborne bore a battle axe much like the one it used to have and used it to bisect a Reaver that launched itself in an aggressive offensive. Black blood and ancient tissue rained down as the axe thunked into the dirt, two halves of the creature squirming with some kind of horrendous death throes.

Before the others aboard the small ship could join in in the fight, I took a deep breath and called the turbulent forces of Sorcery to my hand. I lacked my Artifacts, all now seized, so I would have to do things crudely. The Souls that flowed about the land itself were rich with potential here, so close to the populated Novakrayu, yet they were also rebellious, resistant to my commands. I forced Curses of agony and decomposition among the men around me. One by one, they fell to the Spell, contorted and screaming. Sovina joined in, kicking a man overboard and yanking her saber from his hand as Ignatia flung a simple Spell at a distant Reaver, slowing it enough for Protis to lurch forward and hack its legs out from under it. Even Emalia lunged at a guard to be finished off by Sovina, now bearing her marked blade.

"Daecinus!" Protis roared, their voice rough and inhuman, yet filled with an urgency akin to panic. "Off the ship!"

I pushed Ignatia toward the edge and leaped over the side into the water just as the deck exploded upward in a fierce burst of shattered wood. The water was cold and shocking, but I swam to the surface, coughing and thrashing to look back and see the small ship's hold exposed as it slowly took on water, dozens of Dead writhing, struggling to snatch onto Emalia and Sovina, tossed downstream. I used Soulsight to observe them as I swam away. They were not bonded to Maecia, but there was something odd about them. As if they were connected to some sort of Spell. A contingency. In case of Sorcery, they would awaken. Smart.

I found Ignatia on the shore, coughing up water on her hands and knees. Protis stood before us defensively as I scanned the waters, tracking Emalia and Sovina. They had been carried further down by the current, seemingly avoiding contact with any Dead, thankfully, though nearing the other side of the river. I glanced to them, then north toward Novakrayu, barely visible through the trees. It would take time to retrieve them and fight off these unbound Reavers, numerous as they were. What to prioritize? How to proceed?

"Assist them," I said to Ignatia and Protis. "I will go on my own to find Maecia."

"Is that wise?" she asked in Pethyan.

"They need your help more than I. Particularly if I fail."

"If you die, we are doomed! I will not abandon your side."

"Enough!" I shouted, glaring her down. "You want us to succeed? We need them. Emalia and Sovina have uncovered secrets and plans I failed to. They are essential, and not just to our war, but to what comes after. To rebuilding. Help them destroy the chamber and stop my sister, Ignatia. Do not succumb to Hubris."

She stared back at me, frozen, pulled between two senses of duties. "Very well."

I looked to Protis, now far more than a mere Dead creation. "Please, go."

My creation met my gaze with their black, unrevealing eyes. "New Petha is here."

"I will find them. Now go."

The two of them broke into a run, Protis quickly outpacing Ignatia.

There was a small stable here, I recalled, searching it out. I knew little of horses but two of the three beasts seemed injured or sick amongst the large stable and yard where they were kept. She was preparing the Sorcerers here. This was carefully planned. Of course it was. It was Maecia's plan, after all. I leapt atop the horse without a saddle and had to squeeze it tight to hang on as I urged it out, north. Once recovered, Emalia and the others would be the contingency should I fail. Yet, I had to try. Many lives were at stake, likely including those from New Petha.

Galloping toward the city, I could finally catch a good view of the armies coming to meet. Three entities uniting as one against Maecia, preventing her from closing in on the city. Would it be enough? Deep down, I knew that she would defeat them, for if there was another in this age with more experience handling Dead and Sorcerers than I, it would be my sister.

This was a battle she was made for.

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