43. Crossing the divide

“You sure she’s still here?” Yaslin said as they approached the inn.

“Who knows? All I can say is I saw her head in there when she returned to town.”

“For your efforts,” Yeslin said, dropping a few coppers into that man’s palm.

He wouldn’t usually go chasing after strangers, but something was off about that chimera. Besides, being stuck in his master’s manor was beyond boring. But the pay was hard to walk away from.

“Hello and welcome-“ the innkeeper said, then straightened when they realized who he was talking to. “Master Yeslin, it’s an honor to have you In here. The innkeeper looked around, eyeing some of the less desirable patrons. “The prince isn’t with you, is he?”

“No, just me. I’m looking for a chimera who goes by the name Iliana. A little birdie told me she was staying here.

The innkeeper silently nodded.

“She still here?”

“She is. How can I help you? She hasn’t caused issues for the prince, has she?”

Yeslin shook his head. “My interest in her is personal.”

The innkeeper’s brow rose. “Really, well, anything for the famed Yeslin.” He said, hurriedly fiddling through his keys. “Here, just upstairs and to your left. As far as I’m aware, she’s up there.”

“Thank you,” Yeslin nodded and took the key.

The room was dark, curtails pulled shut and candles long since extinguished. A figure sat curled up on the bed, remaining entirely still as the door creaked open.

“So, you are here,” Yeslin said but received no response. “I remember you being a little feistier than this.”

“What are you doing here?” Came Iliana’s sober reply.

“Thought I’d come to find out what happened to the intriguing chimera I met at that shitty excuse for an event.”

“Go away.”

“Yeah, that’s a little more like it. I was starting to worry.”

Iliana slid her legs off the side and rose to her feet, the blanket that had been draped over her falling free.

Furry, clawed arms hung from her sides, and when she smiled a veneer of sparkling daggers was revealed.

“That’s quite the sight,” Yeslin shrugged. “Bet you’re even meaner in combat, now.”

“Are you trying to make me angry?”

“Not at all. But I have this feeling you’re out for revenge. And if I were on your bad side, I’d be a whole lot more scared now.”

Iliana slowly nodded. “Is that everything?”

“I could help, you know. I’m getting awfully bored held up in this place.”

***

The skies had continued to darken for the last couple of days. Ravens circled above and even the air smelled off, as if it had somehow been infected and was putrefying.

“Can’t say this is looking good, Earon.” Tyan said as they surveyed the battlefield from the corner tower.

“Those storms, they flow with mana,” Earon said, looking up at the clouds as the signature red glow twirled through them.

“I see. It seems things really are starting to heat up.”

“Why would they wait to use the bulk of their casters until now?”

Tyan shrugged. “I’m not a dwarven tactical specialist. But perhaps it has to do with Ome and the other internal cities. There are still many obstacles for their army to face, even if they do pass through here. I imagine they may have wanted to save most of their strength for upcoming battles.”

“And we’ve forced them to play their hand.”

Tyan nodded. “That seems to be it, commander.”

It still sounded strange, commander, and perhaps it always would.

Earon thought back to his childhood, the time he spent swinging wooden swords with Alyssia. All she had ever wanted to do was fight, and even with his superior strength, she had always bested him. What would she think if she saw him now?

A smile creased Earon’s face and he looked to the sky.

What should he pray for now? He hoped everything would work out for Lexi, of course. But everything had gotten so complicated. There was a part of him that wanted to get powerful, defeat evil, and save people – all that good stuff. But there was another part, one that was just tired. One that could just lay down and let it all be over with.

How long would fighting these beasts continue? After this, there was the Rye, and then the rest of the Kingdom. Would it end there, or would another threat arise? Was it too late?

His smile faded. There was irony in his thoughts. Once mocking his short-sightedness and total lack of ambition, now he saw the other side of that coin. One that reached out for his old, simple self. One that just wanted to be curled up beside the fire eating a Ryeland soup and listening to bad tales from a drunken bard.

An uncomforting feeling shuttered through him at the thought that this was his life now. A sad road of broken dreams and discarded corpses. That was what it meant to be powerful, after all. For every victory, there was a loser. Today that just meant dwarves and other monsters from the Scarworld. But Earon had a feeling that wouldn’t last. If he continued down this path, sooner or later, people who didn't fit this black-and-white mold would cross his path, and he would be forced to put them down.

“Earon?” Tyan said, watching Earon’s blank expression.

“...yeah?”

“The soldiers. It might be a good idea to say something. This storm, it’s not good for their spirits.”

“Me?”

“Earon, you’re the one that stopped the last attack. I’m just another soldier who has been relying on casters to carry him this entire time. They want your voice, not mine,” Tyan said, pressing a finger against Earon’s chest.

What was left of the soldiers guarding the outer walls was a pitiful sight. Barely a man stood without injury. Few held optimism in their eyes, and left behind were only weary orbs that looked as willing to give up, as to fight on. Their armor and weapons were falling apart and were often replaced with makeshift imitations.

“Ahem,” Earon coughed. “I’m not sure how exactly to do this... but it wasn’t so long ago that I felt that way about casting,” he said, scanning across the unmoving soldiers. “But that seemed to turn out fairly well.”

Tyan nudged Earon’s back, “C’mon, can’t you be a little more encouraging?”

“This won’t be easy... But we didn’t come here for an easy fight, did we?” Earon said, his voice growing louder. “Our bodies are not the ones piled against the wall, with enough steel to make all of us rich at the end of this, are they? It isn’t us who have failed to take this city for months now, is it? It isn’t us who thought we would run through this place with ease and are now forced to throw everything we have at one last push, are we? Our enemy has failed. They failed in the past and they will fail in the future. We have already proven this. And thanks to this, we have given our kingdom and our people more days in this awful place we call home. The only thing left is for us to stay alive. So, what do you say? Are we going to let those soft bastards behind the inner walls take all the glory for themselves, or are we going to take it for ourselves?”

A cheer erupted across the near-beaten and battered men as they clapped and celebrated Earon’s name.

“That was actually pretty good,” Tyan said placing a hand on Earon’s shoulder. “Honestly, I didn’t think you had it in you.”

“And you let me talk anyway?”

“Didn’t have much of a choice.” Tyan shrugged.

Earon shook his head with a smirk. “Got family, Tyan?”

He nodded with a flat smile.

“I hope you get to see them again.”

“So, do I. What about you, Earon, fear of leaving somebody behind?”

“Not really. I mean, there are people I care for, but I’m not too worried about leaving them.”

Thunder crackled across the sky, and the siege engines that had been quiet resumed their bombardment, with flaming rocks flying across the city seconds later.

Soon hundreds of dwarves were running towards their positions, mounting weapons of war and preparing for their assault.

“It seems we’ve run out of time, Earon.”

Earon bounced a metal ball in his hand. “I’m sick of this wall, anyway.”