"No." Riley stepped closer to his brother and looked into his eyes as he spoke in a low, cutting voice. "Following orders is not what got Kyler hurt. Kneeling down in the middle of a battle is what did that. Following orders of people who know better than you do is what keeps you alive. Now go stand by the door. Tell them I ordered you to help them guard it, for whatever that's worth."
His statements were only partly true. In fact, he was going to have some intense words for whatever insane moron had ordered boys who had enlisted days ago to report to the front lines. The man deserved court martial for recklessly endangering the city and its people.
However, he needed his younger brother to respect his orders right now to keep him from getting into more danger.
He turned back to Roland with an apologetic look.
"Sorry about my brother. He… well, they all need a bit more raising." Riley shrugged.
"They shouldn't be here," The prince echoed Riley's thoughts. "None of these people should have to…"
He looked over the soldiers, mostly ones of Klain here on these battle lines. Rhone and Ceto throughout the city as well, all the major kingdoms of this world, sacrificing their lives for the innocent inhabitants here.
"Sacrifice," Roland whispered, finishing his thought. "Judah, go to my home. Protect my family. Please."
The cat chirped a little uncertainly, but obeyed with a lingering glance at the prince. Leaping over the Klain lines, Judah slaughtered his way through the goblins before continuing towards home.
The lines weakened again as several more men in one small area succumbed to the poison, and the giantess fainted, shaking the ground. The goblins pressed their advantage, and a column of the enemy streamed into the opening. With the foothold, the goblins screeched in glee, and several spears led the charge into the breach.
The line broke.
Riley sprinted towards it. Once a battle line was broken this badly it was almost impossible to regroup. Almost.
With a battle cry, he flew forward, slaughtering the first goblin to clear the way and driving his sword into the chest of the second. The men surrounding him took up the cheer, coalescing around the warrior.
Riley ducked a spear and continued his constant movement. To hold still was to take a strike. Even a small cut meant death. He couldn't be entirely certain he hadn't received one already, but even if that was the case, he wouldn't give up until he was unable to continue.
The gap in the line grew as more goblins poured into it, drawn by the screeching of their comrades.
"REFORM THE LINE! SEAL THE BREACH!" Riley shouted as he battled. There was no formation that could take this. These troops were not prepared for this manner of warfare. He made note that, if he survived, he would come up with new training strategies for more styles of battle. The defensive wall of Klain was not absolute.
A half dozen enemy charged him, cackling with their sharpened teeth glinting in the light of the torches.
Riley leaned forward in a ready stance, quickly calculating which to disable first, when he spied Roland's discarded, bloody coat beneath his front foot. He was a split second too late.
The gargoyle's dive had been silent compared to the roar of the storm. It seemed to appear from nowhere as it pierced the veil of snow, its sharp claws and strong arms knocking Riley from his feet.
Now completely open to attack, the Riley scrambled frantically backward and to his feet, temporarily abandoning his attempt to heal the broken line of defense. The goblins flooded through, slashing their way towards the City Hall.
Finally regaining his footing, Riley fought his way back towards being a stopper in the flow of enemy combatants. He picked up the bloody coat and threw it across several of their heads as they raced forward.
Momentarily disoriented, they ripped it from their heads only to be dive bombed by starving gargoyles. It gave the humans enough precious seconds to cut off their ingress and push them back.
Riley glanced over his shoulder. About two dozen were running toward the stairs. Toward Roland and the box he carried.
His friend's face was confused, contemplative. Did the prince even see what was about to happen?
Riley's strength wasn't endless, but he turned again.
"ROLAND!!" He yelled. "LOOK OUT!!"
The guards at the base of the stairs were doing their best, but the vicious goblins were drunk on the nearness of their victory and surged forward. One broke through.
"ROLAND!!!" Riley was close, but not close enough. He shoved a disoriented guard out of the way and cut the tendons on the back of a goblin's leg as he ran.
"Sacrifice."
Riley could see Roland mouth the word, though he couldn't hear it. The goblin made it to the top of the stairs, his long, narrow blade raised for the kill.
"ROLAND!!"
Roland seemed to suddenly snap out of whatever deep thoughts he was having. Seeing the raised blade, the man turned his back and hunched himself over the box, covering it with his body.
What was he doing?? He had a sword! He'd killed gargoyles and goblins and who knew what else! Why was Roland hunching like a scared child in the face of a lone enemy?
The goblin cackled with delight as Riley screamed another warning.
The monster plunged its blade through Roland's heart and into the box he was protecting with his life.
_________
Lysander was nearly to the point of blacking out. He gripped consciousness tightly, unwilling to let it slip away easily.
"Stop," He said a final time, weakly.
"Poor, simple Lysander. Give up," Cooed Titania's gentle voice.
"No," Had he been able to say the word, or just think it? The world was hazy now. Suddenly, the pressure eased. Was the Void giving him a reprieve to kill him afterward?
He sucked a deep breath into his aching lungs and struggled upward. The Void was… roiling. Was it angry?
The few men who hadn't run in terror also noticed the change.
"You sniveling, worthless—" The echoing voice was harsh and merciless. With all the petulance of a child throwing a toy aside in a tantrum, Haf was flung to the ground and abandoned.
The Void expanded and contracted before coalescing down into the form of the Void as a man, in dark Rhone clothes with hair as white as the swirling snow, a murderous look on his face. He raced across the landscape, away from Klain and over the foothills.
Lysander sat up, still trying to regain his bearings. Slowly, he stood, trying to take stock of his injuries. It was difficult with the numbing cold of the snow permeating his body.
Haf!
The former provider raced towards the Commodore's motionless form. They had met decades ago, when Lysander had gone on the first diplomatic mission to Ceto. Haf's father had been Commodore then.
He was lying face down in the snow, one leg at an impossible angle. The snow around it was turning rapidly dark. His arms were splayed awkwardly, and Lysander feared the worst.
Shooting a look at the nearest soldier to silently demand his aid, Lysander rolled the Commodore to his back.
The subordinate set to work applying a tourniquet on the leader's thigh. Broken bone was poking through the skin and muscle, and the bleeding had to be stopped. The leg might be amputated… if they could get him to real medical help alive.
"Sir! Can you hear me?" Lysander said, softly, and then a little stronger. Was the storm beginning to disperse? "Haf! Please!"
He leaned down and pressed his ear to the man's chest. The wind was still loud around them. Lysander couldn't be sure he could hear anything, nor confirm that the man was breathing. He looked up to find the soldier had finished tying the tourniquet and now held his fingers to the side of Haf's neck.
"Are you a doctor?" Lysander demanded hopefully.
"Ship's medic," The man clarified. "Basic training only."
"Better than none," The former provider encouraged. "Is he alive?"
"Not for long," The man closed his eyes. "There's nothing I can do."
"Haf!" Lysander said again, loudly. "Please, don't die. Stay with us! For your kingdom, for our world!!"
The Commodore's eyelids moved slightly.
"Yes, wake up! Talk to us! We'll get you into the city, to better help!"
"You cannot move him. It would only hasten his death," The medic interrupted grimly.
Lysander's heart sank. So much death. There were dozens of bodies littered around him, to say nothing of what was happening within the city. Without the reinforcements… Who knew whether anyone would survive within the walls at all.
His wife. His daughter. His friends.
"Roland," Haf whispered, his eyelids moving again.
"Yes? Haf! Please, say that again, what do you need?" Lysander leaned his ear close, so as not to miss a word.
"Roland must rule. Unite. Must unite," Haf whispered.
"Unite what?" Lysander's brow furrowed in concentration. A dying man's words were surely important, but were they delirious? Did they make any sense?
"Unite our world," Haf said as he breathed his last.