Though Anneliese knew that Argrave had not explicitly given her permission to show her hand… she felt it was necessary, and she knew that he would agree. It was not so drastic a measure, of course. Indeed, exposing her druidic magic was quite a simple thing, and she had kept hidden only because Argrave was overcautious. Nonetheless, she was sure it’d be very effective. Though she had considered simply commanding everyone to hide in the buildings… that relied too much on chance. Instead, she’d be controlling things from beginning to end.
As Anneliese had commanded, she’d had the bodies of the jongleur and the bard displayed over the gate. The giant jongleur’s ridiculously long ape arms were staked between two of the golden statues on the front gate, and it hung with its head and part of its chest missing. The Barefaced Bard’s body was too badly charred to be displayed effectively, yet its face was still intact—they cut it free of the wood and hung it from a rope. It dangled like a necklace from the body of the jongleur.
Anneliese watched the approach of the disorganized horde with her Starsparrow, getting an accurate evaluation of the foe they faced. Argrave had not told her of all the entertainers in the Plague Jester’s list, but she found it nonetheless—it stayed aback the centaur, taking the place of the troubadour. It was a grotesque mass of muddy roots that wound together like a ball of eels, and did not look mobile.
When the enemy arrived at the gates… four of the Waxknights stood in front of it, just below the massive marble archway. They confronted a host numbering probably half a thousand, yet the knights stood fearlessly. Anneliese watched from a distant place, using the last of her remaining magic to control her Starsparrow to oversee the situation.
Between the jongleur and bard hanging from the gate and the obviously exposed knights before them… anyone capable of reasoning, especially an inexperienced strategist, would suspect a trap. And that was what she wanted.
Even an inexperienced commander would know a little of how to deal with a trap when there was no option but to proceed. They would not proceed blindly. They would probe, sending less important detachments to sus out what might lie ahead.
When she saw the tangled mass of roots on the centaur’s back call out with a strange, clicking howl, she feared what was going to happen. When the horde of enemies behind the centaur pushed back the two of them as they waited, Anneliese very nearly smiled. She directed her Starsparrow in front of the Waxknights, giving them their signal. There was no better utility at her disposal to command them from a safe distance.
The plan remained as simple as ever. Anneliese was going to stall.
The palace of the Archduke was a complicated complex, filled with pavilions, buildings serving many different purposes, and elaborate structures that stood as grandiose displays of wealth. Though there was a straightforward central path that led to the main building where the throne waited… the rest of the place was not so straightforward. There were winding paths that looped in on themselves, some of which looked near identical. Better yet, they were thin, hindering the coordination of large crowds.
The four Waxknights divided up and took different paths. With their gleaming golden armor, it was easy to keep an eye on each of the four from the sky, and Anneliese’s Starsparrow could maneuver quickly enough that it did not often matter if she lost track of one or more of them at a time—she could find them if only a few seconds.
The creatures sent out as probes, largely dumb animals or Sentinels, pursued in a disorganized if ruthless manner. Nevertheless, they were divided. Though much faster than the Waxknights, Anneliese had them deliberately move into thin, tight spaces like alleyways between buildings.
Durran and Silvic had their role in this. She had them lying in wait in secluded places, picking off isolated pockets of enemies when she directed them to. Gibbons armed with divinely blessed weapons would wander into an overgrown pavilion, and Silvic would swarm up from hiding, ensnaring and ending foes with her wetland magic. Rockhide hippos would barrel through crowded alleyways, only to be stabbed repeatedly from above by Durran’s glaive. Though a bit clumsy in light of his missing fingers, he managed the task ably enough.
Though they had a set path for a time, the Waxknights eventually reached the end of that road. Thus began Anneliese’s second duty—she guided the four knights through places that had no enemies ahead of them, like an overseer directing mice through a maze. She used her bird’s tremendous speed to its fullest extent, keeping each of the four winding through the place in perfect harmony. They never confronted friend nor foe.
Between guiding Durran and Silvic to hunt foes, herding the Waxknights away from danger, and keeping her eye on the mass of enemies so that none managed to get near where she hid, this task of Anneliese’s was a massive mental strain. There were so many variables to keep an eye on, and the simplest mistake might make anyone perish.
Anneliese did not know if this was because of the enchanted items Argrave had given her to help with her concentration, or simply her own personality… but she found she was very good at this. Commanding people and predicting the response of the enemy was something she had a strange, almost unnatural confidence in, even despite the fact her foes were animals whose emotions she could not read. Despite the urgency, despite the threat to their lives… she enjoyed doing this.
Yet then, the wetland spirit and the centaur took slow, steady steps up to the gate, hoofs clattering against the stone walkway leading to the gate. The centaur’s gaze lingered on the Barefaced Bard’s head and the Jolly Jongleur’s corpse… and then scanned the palace beyond.
At the same time, a great tremor rocked the whole palace complex. Anneliese took her Starsparrow to the sky to see the vast building that Orion and the Plague Jester fought within collapse completely. The dust was so intense she could see nothing beyond, even with the bird’s fantastic eyesight. Yet when the dust fell…
She saw a vast jungle rapidly growing and writhing out of the dust, so many various types of plants coming into being that it was both beautiful and horrifying. This continued for near half a minute… then, all of the plants ceased, straining as though stretched to their limits. She could not place exactly what changed, but the vibrancy and intensity of the jungle waned before beginning to curl inwards, wilting half as quick as they had grown.
The centaur stepped back, staggering as though he could not believe the sight before him. He stuck his arm through his strung bow and wore it over his shoulder, then broke into an intense gallop towards the main square. He stopped in the center, while in the distance, someone pushed past the dust.
Orion emerged from the devastation… though seeing as how devastated his body and armor were, perhaps he merely brought the devastation with him. One hand dragged along a massive white stag’s body, holding it by its elaborate antler crown. The other held a badly dismembered corpse by the foot, the body wearing a bloodstained motley outfit of two distinct shades of purple.
“I cannot be stopped,” Orion declared, his voice loud and smooth. “I cannot be stopped by any heretics. I will carve through your numbers piece by piece until none of you remain. My body will never tire. My mind will never waver. I’ll come for you step after step, day after day, night after night.”
The centaur trotted backwards, removing his bow from his back. The wetland spirit on his back reformed part of its body into an arrow, yet Orion heaved his body and threw the great stag’s body forth. It hurtled through the air with tremendous speed, and the centaur tried to rush aside. He was not quick enough—instead, he dropped his bow and caught its antlers, sliding back from the tremendous power from the throw, hooves cracking against the uneven granite pathway. The stag’s massive crown of antlers poked at his armor and flesh, leaving cuts or scrapes in many places.
Anneliese was so awestruck by Orion’s appearance and tremendous strength she nearly forgot her duties.
Now that Orion is here… guide everyone to him, have him handle things.
With that judgement, she made to do precisely that. Yet the wetland spirit on the back of the centaur let out its clicking howl once again, and all of their enemies halted. When another call came… they all frenziedly made for the walls, entirely ignoring their quarry.
The animals and wetland spirit Sentinels that had entered the palace complex flooded out into the wetlands with an intense desperation. The centaur retrieved his bow, and then bounded back towards the main gate. Orion stepped forth near casually, stepping atop the corpse of the great white stag he’d thrown as he watched them leave.
Anneliese brought her Starsparrow back to her person and broke the direct connection between her and the bird. It was strange to be viewing things from her own eyes again, and she took a moment to gather herself before she pushed out of the building she’d hid within to the palace, still cautious of any and all enemies.
When she strode to the central square where Orion had been, the remainder of their party had already gathered.
“What was that?” Durran questioned.
“They flee, like cowards,” Orion said coldly. “But I will come to them.”
“They don’t flee. That call—I can interpret it,” Silvic interjected. “They intend to marshal their forces yet more. A strategic retreat, to be returned with greater numbers.”
Orion looked to the wetland spirit. “It matters not. I will defeat all challengers.” He looked around. “Where is Argrave?” he demanded.
“Unconscious. He used blood magic to defeat one of the commanders, while personally dispatching the other with… tremendous magical aptitude,” one of the Waxknights reported quickly.
“Unconscious?” Orion repeated, finally dropping the corpse of the jester. He stepped to his knight and grabbed his shoulders. “Where is he?”
“He is safe. His guardian, Galamon, protects him, alongside those small creatures he keeps as pets.”
“I will go to him, take care of him,” Anneliese decided aloud. “But Orion… all of us are drained and weary. You are needed most as a warrior and defender,” she informed him curtly.
He stepped up to her. He was like a radiating ball of worry and concern, so she could not muster fear. All he did was take a deep breath and nod.
“Yes. Go to him,” he said. “Focus only on him. He is my brother… but he is to be your husband. So go,” he directed her.
The word ‘husband’ left a strange feeling within her, yet she could only nod to show her assent.
“I will deal with the enemy,” Orion stepped away. “I will tear through them, as I was meant to. If they should charge me, I will flatten them. If they should flee, I will hunt them. And then…” his gaze turned to Silvic. “I will decide what happens next.”
Silvic displayed no fear, even though the words might ostensibly be a threat. She merely walked up to the body of the white stag and ran her uncorrupted hand against its fur.
“The plague will stop spreading and growing all around the world. No—it already has,” Silvic declared. “I have done all I wished—washed away a stain. So you may decide as you will.”
Orion stared at her with his gray eyes for a few seconds. Then, he turned, battered but unbroken, and proceeded towards where the enemy had fled.
