The dark outline of Winterhold garrison crested higher in the distance as Damien's forces pushed forward through northern foothills. Days of hectic battles had drawn them close to their goal, but even still that fatigue in the eyes is unmistakable. Their once shiny armor was now dulled with grime and blood, movements a little slower, but their spirits high, for the triumph over the Iron Scales mercenaries.
Damien rode ahead of the column, the black cape flapping out behind him in the chill wind. Beside him, Amara kept pace on her smaller, nimbler horse. She glanced at him, sharp blue eyes running him over.
"You look like you haven't slept in a week," she said.
"Because I haven't," Damien replied dryly.
"Maybe you should," she said. If you drop dead before we get to Winterhold, then you're no use to anyone."
"I would rest after the rebellion was crushed," he answered.
Amara sighed but did not argue. "Suit yourself! Just don't expect me to catch you if you fall off that horse."
Damien sneered, but he said nothing. He kept staring out at the horizon, where the garrison stood like a sentinel overlooking the northern pass. Its high stone walls and towering battlements had stood against far worse sieges in the past; but in its strategic position, it was an essential stronghold.
It was also brittle. Reynard's forces were closing in from the west, and Damien knew he had only a narrow window to fortify the garrison before the enemy arrived.
---
The army reached Winterhold by midday, where it was met at the gates by the garrison commander-Captain Harrow-a stern veteran.
"Your Grace," Harrow said, bowing awkwardly. "Reinforcements were not expected."
"You were never meant to need them," Damien said as he swung from the saddle. "But times change. Lord Reynard's men march this way, and they will not stop till they've claimed control of that pass."
Harrow's face darkened. "We've heard rumor, but nothing certain. How many days do we have?"
"Three if we're lucky," Damien said firmly. "Two if they push hard."
The captain cursed under his breath. "We are not prepared for an all-out attack. We are in short supplies, and half my men are just recruits."
"We'll do the best with what we have," Damien said. "Reinforce the walls, create a defense. I'll send my engineers over to join the effort."
Harrow nods. "As you say, Your Grace."
As the captain stalks off to spread his orders, Amara steps beside Damien.
"He's not wrong," she says. "This place is not prepared for what is coming."
"That's why we'll get it ready," Damien responded resolutely.
---
The next two days flew in a blur of activity. Damien worked with the soldiers, supervising barricade construction; weapons sharpening; and organization of patrols. He wouldn't waste his time doing nothing because every moment counted.
True to her nature, Amara melted into the darkness, scouring the surroundings. Each time she brought with her a valuable piece of intelligence: enemy movement and weak points, intercepted messages from Reynard's forces.
"They're moving faster than we thought," she said in her grim tone that evening. "They'll be here by dawn."
Damien nodded hard. "Then we'll be ready."
Amara hesitated, her gaze lingering on him. "You're putting a lot on the line, Damien. If this goes wrong…"
"It won't," he said, cutting her off.
She didn't look convinced but said nothing more.
---
The morning came with an eerie calm. The sun rose over the mountains, casting long shadows across the garrison walls. Soldiers stood at their posts, their weapons ready, their faces pale but determined.
Damien stood on the battlements, his gaze fixed on the western horizon. The first signs of the enemy appeared as a dark line against the snowy landscape—a mass of soldiers advancing in tight formation, their banners fluttering in the wind.
"They're here," he said quietly.
Beside him, Aldric grunted. "They're disciplined, I'll give them that. Looks like they brought siege weapons too."
"Then we'll make them regret it," Damien said.
Amara stepped up the steps, falling into step with them. "I counted three trebuchets and at least two battering rams," she said. "They're really going all out."
"They have to breach the walls first," Damien said. "And that won't be easy."
The battle began shortly after sunrise.
His troops attacked in sorties to keep up the assaults and drew the defense's attention to the bombardment on Winterhold with great stone balls launched from his machines. Each hit would make the garrison go into trembles, but still, the improvised defenses held on. Rain could be rivaled with arrows facing the enemy. Meanwhile, Damien's men operated the ballistae that aimed at the besieging machines with deadly accuracy.
Damien stood on the parapets, calling out his orders and urging the men on. There he met the foe as ladders reached from the ground up to the wall; here he hacked down mercenaries with brutal efficiency.
"Forward, stand the line! Hold them back! Let them not pass!" he bellowed above the din.
Alongside him, Amara fought, daggers a blur as she took down enemy soldiers with quick precision by sending them crashing to the ground. Described in terms of odds, she seemed to be almost exhilarated, her sharp wit slicing through tension.
"Fun yet?" she quipped, ducking under a swinging sword.
"Just another day," Damien said, driving his blade through an enemy's chest.
As the sun set, the tide of battle slowly began to change, though the battle went on for hours without either side besting the other.
---
Morgan Reynard's soldiers arrived with battering rams and he started smashing the wood heavily against the gate with heavy iron-tipped logs. Damien came up to the gatehouse, where Captain Harrow with several soldiers were frantically fortifying the barricades.
"They're going to break through," Harrow said, tight-lipped.
"Not if we stop them first," Damien said.
He stared at the soldiers. "We'll hold them at the gates. When the breach comes, fight with everything you have. No retreat. No surrender."
The soldiers nodded, grim but purposeful.
Moments later, the gates splintered, and Reynard's forces poured into the courtyard.
Damien was the first one to arrive, flashing his sword and cutting the head attacker. Steel clanged and battle roared as defenders desperately batted for a hold.
Amara came beside Damien with daggers dripping with blood.
"They're pushing very hard," she said, breathing in short bursts.
"Let them," he replied. "This is where we make our stand."
---
The fighting was fierce, yet Damien's bravery never dimmed. He charged forth into the battle, his fire brighter than any flame around him, cutting his way among the crowd of enemies with his sword, his blade hissing as he cipped through standing opposing forces.
But as battle wore on, defenders started to falter.
"We are losing ground," Harrow shouted, his voice little above the roar of battle.
Damien's mind spiraled. They could not afford to yield, not now.
"Amara," he said, swinging his gaze to meet hers, "take a group of soldiers and flank their rear-tennis match. Create a distraction."
She hesitated-silence filled the air-and then nodded her head. "Don't die before I return."
When Amara stepped back, out of sight, Damien turned his attention to the battle once more. Every hit, every shift, carried the weight of the kingdom's fate.
Through the distance, a horn echoed - the signal from Amara's group.
Reynard's forces faltered; his formation started to stumble as they turned to meet the natural assault. That was the opening that Damien had been so desiring.
"Now!" he shouted. "Push them back!"
And then, in a final valiant push, the defenders advanced forward, hacking through the enemy lines which had grown disorganized. The tide of battle had turned now.
---
As night fell, the battlefield stood silent. Reynard's forces were routed; the few stragglers slunk into whatever wilderness lay east of them.
Bloodied but alive, Damien stood in the courtyard amidst his troops, who were tending to the wounded and securing the garrison.
She appeared. Her daggers were sheathed, and a smile was painted on her lips.
"Well, Your Grace," she said, "it seems you managed-after all."
A whirring smile broadened over Damien's face. "This is just the beginning. Reynard won't stop yet."
"And that is why you are as stubborn as he is," Amara commented.
As soldiers began the task of rebuilding, the dawning battle-worn eyes of Damien brimmed with determined resolution.
Reynard may escape for now, but Damien will not rest until the rebellion has been put down and his redemption is complete.