Discordant Note | The Beginning After the End SI

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Reynolds Leywin

The green, healing light shimmered over Alice's fingertips. The motes of energy danced down toward the bleeding wound, the energy sinking into the flesh like steam over a lake. I watched with bated breath, the scalpel clenched lightly in my hands.

The mage coughed under my wife's careful application of magic. The color started to return to his cheeks as the gash just under his armpit slowly began to close. Alice's auburn hair clung to her face, matted with sweat and hours of focused exertion, but she did not relent.

And I stood by the side, my part done as I waited in silent support of my wife. The barbed broadhead I'd helped extract—still stinking with putrid, infectious mana—sizzled ominously on the nearby metal plate, angry that it had been torn from its victim.

Time trickled like fluid down a drip infusion. In the sterile halls and bleached floors of this wing of the medical research division of Xyrus Academy, a battle no less impactful as the ones on the front lines was being waged. Thunder crashed outside the sturdy walls as rain hurled itself at the structure in a vain attempt to wear us all down.

The man groaned, glassy eyes staring out from behind seared eyebrows. He moved his mouth, trying to say something, but the exhalation seemed to sap more of his strength.

The wound finally closed. Alice exhaled a heavy sigh, using a designated cloth to wipe away the sweat on her brow. She stayed where she was, though, still staring down at her patient, fully healed.

I carefully set down the scalpel on a nearby metal tray, a slight smile tugging at the edges of my lips. "You've worked a miracle again, Alice," I said quietly, shifting closer to her. "I didn't think this man would–-"

Alice raised a hand, distancing me. She didn't turn to look at me, her lips still pursed and her brow furrowed as she stared down at the patient she had just saved.

I frowned, confused. I looked back at the mage, noting how his breathing was finally starting to even out from its earlier, tearing inhales. He was better, certainly, so why was Alice quieting me?

The answer came soon enough. The man's breathing was slowing, yes. But it continued to slow. More and more, almost at too fast a rate. I stood still, some part of me still not understanding, as the man I thought Alice had saved gradually died, his breaths leaving him.

And my wife didn't move. Even as this person—laid out on a surgical table and underneath her care—slowly succumbed to something I didn't understand, Alice just… watched, her lips pursed and her focus unrelenting.

"What's wrong with him?" I asked quietly, feeling the weight of it all suppressing my usual optimism. That poisoned arrowhead hissed in the background, as if laughing as its victim slowly died. "His wounds are cleared. The poison is gone."

Alice slowly shook her head, her expression one of quiet determination and solemnity. It was something I had grown used to these past few weeks as I helped her with her work. "We've helped a lot of people so far, Rey, but… There are some whose fight isn't all in the cells and antibodies or whatever this otherworld knowledge Arthur brought the Academy is," she said. Her eyes traced over the victim's body slowly. "We can heal their body, but they still need to fight for it.

"They can't always fight it, Rey," she said, her hands clenching on her apron. "Sometimes, the flesh is strong, but there is nothing left to fuel it."

Alice's words made me think of Arthur. It made me think of my boy, who used himself as kindling to keep us all safe in a distant castle. I could see my boy here, dying of a wound he no longer had the strength to fight.

I stood still by the side, watching as this soldier—whose body was in perfect health—finally exhaled a last breath. His sightless eyes stared up at the ceiling. I thought he looked peaceful.

Alice's shoulders slumped for a moment as she closed her eyes, hanging her head. I wrapped an arm around her, rubbing her shoulder as we stared down at the man who had no fight left in him.

I need to be strong for her, I told myself, but something about my words felt hollow. Ever since I'd seen what Arthur was struggling against, it was harder to force myself to be the unwavering pillar I needed to be.

Alice pushed herself away from me a heartbeat later, her back straightening as she allowed the air to infuse her with strength again. For all that the man on the table had been unable to continue, my wife was still strong.

"We need to see to the next patient," she said, her unease and stress nestled in some dark corner of her voice. "I'll call the coroner to see to this man's body."

"I can do that," I said immediately. "You've done nothing but use your mana all day so far, Alice. Take a minute to meditate, honey, please. Regain a bit more of your strength."

My wife looked at me, her brows still set in that perpetual furrow. I met her beautiful brown eyes, trying to tell her that I was still here. Her rigid brow finally cracked, like a mountain evened out under the pressure of the sky.

She smiled slightly, her arm lingering on my sleeves. "Thank you, Rey," she said. "I don't know what I'd do without you."

I forced a smile onto my face. Alice had always said my smiles made me look a little "boyish," but I didn't think that was a bad thing. "Sure thing, Allie."

I turned around, looking toward the communication scroll sprawled out on a distant desk of my wife's surgery room. I plodded toward it, taking off my gloves as I prepared to write a quick note to the rest of the medical staff.

These past few weeks had moved nearly faster than I could keep up with. Xyrus Academy was staffed to the brim with researchers appointed by my son, each of them filtering through strange knowledge and theories he had dropped into their laps to research and study.

Germ theory, magnetic waves, electricity… So much of it was just heaped onto the backs of the researchers here, mainly in an effort to reinforce medical knowledge. The reports said it was sparse and disconnected information Arthur had gained from the asura in Epheotus, but Alice and I knew better.

I'll need to wash my hands after I write this letter, I reminded myself again. Basic hygiene was always expected, but the level of stress put on washing hands—even for battlefield medics—was something a bit new. Helps kill the germs. Or bacteria?

It was hard to keep track of everything. Alice was attending classes and working with the researchers here as they investigated medical practices, but most of it went over my head. Yet the results had been astounding.

All because of Arthur. All because of the man I called my son, using himself as—

I shut my eyes tight, banishing my downward-spiraling thoughts. I grasped the countertop before the parchment, my fingers digging into the wood. The rain from the thunderstorm outside slapped the roof of the building, each individual pitter-patter entrenching themselves in my skull.

Some part of me still wished Arthur had never told us about his past life. Some part of me wished that we could live in that bliss, without all the complications and questions. By the asura, it was so much simpler back then.

If Arthur hadn't told us, would he have taken that step forward? Would he have risked the crown on his head? Would this war already be lost?

I sighed, then banished each of those nagging thoughts as best I could. I couldn't do anything about—

I was cut off by a scream. Alice's horrified scream scythed through the mute silence, attacking my ears with its urgency.

I whirled on my feet, calling on my mana before I had even truly registered the sound. With my senses heightened by that terrible energy, I was able to spot what had caused my wife such distress with startling clarity.

The corpse of her patient was moving again. Its eyes were wide open, the pupils still empty and emotionless. The skin seemed to stretch as it shifted, its arm grasping my wife's wrist with crushing strength.

My first thought was that this man hadn't died, but barely pulled back from the brink. He had resurged from the depths of wherever death had drawn him, pulled on by the earnesty of Alice's care and intent.

The second thought—as those hollow, too-black eyes stared at Alice as she whimpered in pain, unable to escape its grip—was that something else had come to inhabit this man's corpse. The poor soul my wife had tried to save was still locked away in the afterlife, long since having relinquished his life.

Because those empty, beady eyes were not human anymore. The pale white of its flesh was too grotesque, too rigid for anything with flowing blood.

I was moving in that split instant of seeing the woman I loved in danger. I reached her in a heartbeat, putting myself between her and the thing on the table. With a mage's speed, I gripped the wrist holding Alice's, crushing it beneath superhuman strength.

The fact that the creature didn't scream or make a single noise only confirmed my suspicions.

"Get your hand off my wife," I growled, before my fist slammed into its face.

The thing went hurtling into the far wall, its neck twisting with a sickening crack. Even as the bones in its face crunched from my fist and the wall shuddered from the force of its impact, it remained silent.

And even with its head twisted too far around and the jaw clearly dislocated, this thing that used to be a man didn't even seem dazed. It began to slowly pick itself up from the floor, all rigid limbs and rickety bones. Those empty eyes stared at me at a sixty-degree angle, an utter abyss within.

"Get behind me, Alice," I said, determination and fear for my family putting me into a familiar fistfighting stance. I didn't have my gauntlets, but that didn't matter. "I'll have to put this thing down quickly."

She didn't waste a breath. As the healer of the Twin Horns adventuring party, she had faced countless dangers. Her earlier surprise and terror at being gripped washed away as put herself behind my broad back. "It just started moving," she said quickly, her voice slightly panicked. "It's not… I can sense something strange from it, Rey. Like a healer's magic, but wrong."

I ground my teeth as the living corpse slowly straightened. Though it moved with utter rigidity, the head didn't ever seem to bob or shift as it stared at me with a broken neck. They stayed unnaturally still as the thing kept a distance, the operating table between us.

Within my head, I was already calling on my experience as the leader of an adventuring party to create a plan of attack. I would kick the table forward toward the creature. It would either take the attack head-on, or try and weave left or right, but with how jerky its movements were, it would—

But then it opened its mouth, and it spoke.

"Reynolds," came a familiar voice. "It's been a while, eh?"

My blood froze in my veins. Hairs along the back of my neck tingled with the malevolence in that voice, and my face drained of color.

Adam's voice. This thing was using Adam's voice. Adam, who had died in the dungeons months ago.

A mix of horror and revulsion welled up within me as the thing continued to speak. Its jaw didn't even shift. In fact, the sound just seemed to drift like a curse from its throat. "What in the—"

Someone else burst through the back door of the clinician's room. Albold Chaffer was covered in sweat as he gripped his spear, but the young elf moved like the wind. Before I could even question what had happened, or why the corpse across from us had spoken with Adam's voice, he was on it.

His spear pierced the undead creature's chest, erupting out the back in a spray of blood. I slowly lowered my gauntlets, staring at the wound. The undead thing didn't even make a sound as it collapsed, whatever magic that had animated it evaporating.

"The core," Albold said, his gray eyes wide. The young elf—whose senses were beyond uncanny—drew his spear from the creature's sternum. It slumped to the ground, the wound not even pumping blood. "You need to destroy the core."

There was a sort of manic frenzy infusing every inch of the young soldier as he turned to look at us. "Are you alright, Lord and Lady Leywin? I came as soon as the fires started."

I spared a glance at the thing that used to be one of my wife's patients. "Yeah, we're good, son. What in the hells is going on? And what do you mean, fires?"

Albold had been assigned by Arthur to be a part of our protection, alongside the wayward Elder Camus Selaridon. If he was here, then that meant that something had gone wrong. Were we being attacked? Targeted for something? Targeted for being Arthur's family?

The young elf shook his head, his short-cropped blonde hair swaying. "My senses are good. Eerily good. But I sensed a change in the ambient mana a few minutes ago, and it's only begun to swell." The elf kicked the corpse near him, sending it tumbling to the corner and away from his boots. "And the dead rising in the clinics… It's a marker. I read reports of a Scythe that could do this."

I shared a worried look with Alice, who still stood nervously behind me. "Where is Elder Camus?" I asked, trying to find a course of action. It was something that was ingrained in me since the early days of leading the Twin Horns. Helen had said it was annoying sometimes, but there were more than a few times we would have died without being thoroughly prepared. Adam had called me an annoying asshole, but he hadn't pressed the matter. "If there's a Scythe here, in Xyrus, then we need to inform the Council. The Lances need to respond!"

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"I have already sent emergency missives to the Council," a familiar voice echoed behind me like an autumn breeze. "Reinforcements should be here shortly."

I turned, clenching my fists as Elder Camus strode into the room. The older elf's long, blonde hair was tied into a ponytail that swayed on unseen currents of wind. His bangs shadowed his eyes, underneath which I knew he was blind. His robes were covered in blood.

"I just intercepted a squad of Alacryan mages that were trying vainly to break into this room," he said with mild disdain. "They failed in their mission, but that doesn't mean there won't be more."

Considering the splatters of blood across Elder Camus' robes—none of it his—it was quite clear what he meant when he said they'd failed.

"Then there will be more of these… undead?" Alice asked from behind me, her voice overtaken with horror. "What will we do?"

Elder Camus turned to look in her general direction. The silver core mage tended to 'look' at people when they spoke, even though he couldn't see. He'd told me once that he'd learned it put people more at ease. "Your son has plans and protocols in place in case of attacks on your persons," he said calmly, gliding closer. "Quite impressive plans, to be honest. But right now, that means we need to get to somewhere more fortified so you can be protected and the situation can be addressed."

I ground my teeth, feeling like a bear held in a cage. Ever since Adam's death, I'd wanted to do something to make it worthwhile. Something to honor my friend, who I'd fought and battled beside for years in the Beast Glades. But with every second I spent in Xyrus' walls, confined by my apparent station as "Lord Leywin," the more it seemed the only way I could contribute to this war was by staying out of everyone's way.

I clenched my fists, my teeth grinding like boulders across a mountainside. No. That was the wrong way to think. Right now, I needed to trust Arthur as one trusted their leader. I needed to trust my son that he would see us through with whatever plans he had. And besides, it wasn't just me who was endangered. It was Alice, too.

"Okay," I said tiredly, "What plans did Art have for—"

The ground started to shake. It wasn't the sort of shaking that came from a true earthquake. I'd felt those before. After all, Ashber was along a minor faultline up north. But we were on a flying city, hovering in the sky. There were no earthquakes.

No… this was more like—

"We move," Elder Camus said sharply, his mana flaring around him as wind whipped at his robes. "I will escort you all to the teleportation gates. Follow me now."

He didn't give us a moment to contemplate. Instead, he simply swept out of the room with the refined grace of a man who had seen too much war. The shaking continued as Albold took up the rear, his grip white on his staff.

Making a split-second decision, I scooped Alice up into my arms, holding her close as I empowered my body with mana. My wife didn't make a sound, biting her lip nervously as she wrapped her arms around my neck like a ship's anchor.

I ran after Elder Camus, who kept a steady pace through Xyrus' halls. I kept my senses spread as far as possible, but it was hard to notice anything past the distant thunderstorm and rumbling beneath my boots.

It took me a few seconds of weaving through the halls, past disorganized researchers and shouting guards, to realize that the crackling lightning I'd been hearing wasn't part of the thunderstorm. In fact, there was so much more sound cascading alongside the rain, drowned out by the tempest's fury.

I hadn't been able to tell deep in the compounds of the academy. But this close to the windows, which streamed with early autumn rain, I could see flashes of light and thunderous noise that wasn't from the distant storm.

Xyrus Academy was under attack.

"Camus!" I roared, darting past a slow platoon of Xyrus guards as they rushed toward the exit to join whatever battle was raging outside. "What about the academy? It's under attack! It needs to be defended!"

The old elf flowed through the crowds like a leaf on the wind. I knew that he 'saw' using the currents of wind all around him, but the grace in his actions was something that never failed to astonish me. "Then that is the job of the defenders," he said harshly. "Your safety is my priority. Nothing more!"

"Then where are we going?!" I demanded, my heart pounding in my chest. I vaulted over a trophy case that had fallen, and Albold trailed behind in a flurry of wind. "This is bigger than just an assassination attempt!"

"Don't worry, Reynolds," the old elf said, "there are plans to—"

Something smashed through one of the walls. It was moving so fast and so dark that I hadn't even been able to comprehend what happened, but Elder Camus was in front of me. A dozen streams of redirecting wind pushed away rubble and debris as they came close to taking off my head. The old mage moved with supernatural grace, the air bending to his whims as he kept us safe.

But as the dust cleared, terror surged from the depths of my soul. Because I could see what had torn its way through the walls, allowing rain to hammer the stones and soak the priceless tapestries adorning Xyrus Academy's walls.

I took a step back, my teeth clenched and my eyes wide.

Adam stared at me, his spear held leisurely in his hand. A horrid wound ran from his waist to his shoulder, but it didn't bleed. His eyes glinted malevolently as the red-haired mage—who I had once called one of my greatest friends—absently twirled his weapon.

"Been a long time, Rey," the cocky man said, twirling his spear. "Seems a bit of a poor time for reunion, but better late than never."

My legs trembled as my vision swam. In my arms, Alice stared in horror at the figure. She shook like a leaf, her fingers digging into my shoulders. "Lensa?" she whispered with utter horror.

I didn't hear her, not really. Adam shouldn't be here. We'd buried him back in Xyrus. Buried him and mourned for him. And now he was—

"You know, you always thought that you were the best of the Twin Horns," Adam said leisurely, twirling his spear. The gaping wound along his armored chest opened and closed grotesquely as he hopped from the mound of rubble he'd created. "That's why you became our great leader. But you really, really didn't think too much about it, did you? You didn't really think about how it would affect me."

"Shut up," I said, instinctively turning, trying to shelter Alice from this monster. "You're not Adam. You're a lie. A figment of my mind."

Adam threw back his head and laughed. It was Adam's laugh. The exact laugh that he'd always had that carried us through battles in the aftermath, entrenched in my memory as deeply as anything else.

"Maybe I am," the thing said, prowling back and forth like a caged world lion, waiting to be set free. It stood in the hallway between us and freedom, and something in the ambient mana told me that turning and running… That would only lead to despair. If I took my eyes off this predator, it would sink its teeth into my neck and tear. "Ask good old Allie what she thinks, though. She knows the truth."

Alice wasn't speaking, just trembling. She stared at the figure, wincing as if slapped in every heartbeat. She seemed to shrink further and further in on herself with every word.

Lensa. My wife had said Lensa. The name of the woman whose death changed her life as an emitter.

"Cover your ears, Alice," I said hastily, worry for my wife overriding my sense of self-preservation. "It's trying to get inside your head! It's taking from your mind somehow! Don't let it!"

I took another fearful step backward, angling Alice away from the figure, hoping whatever nightmare she saw was kinder than this mockery of Adam. I was hardly aware that Albold had fallen back, too, shaking like a leaf as his eyes were blown wide.

Only Elder Camus stood between us. He didn't shake, but there was a looseness to his robes that unnerved me. "Scythe," he said slowly, shifting into a combat stance. "I've heard of you. Viessa Vritra. The Necromancer."

A Scythe. The ominous presence that I could just barely sense lingering on the edges of my perception sharpened, then ran cold fingers along the back of my neck. My eyes darted everywhere as I tried to think of a way to escape.

Adam tilted his head, looking down his nose at the old elf. "Such a pity that you're blind, Camus Selaridon," the voice said in a distinctly un-Adam way. "If you could just open your eyes, you would see your wife again. I'm certain you'll recognize her touch as I tear out your core."

Camus shivered, his body visibly trembling. "Run," he said quietly. "Run, as fast as you can, and don't look back. I'll hold this witch off. She wants to play with her food. You'll get a head start."

Lightning bolts flashed outside. Once, twice, and then a third time. Adam threw back his head, laughing darkly. His broken flesh twisted and contorted unnaturally, sending waves of nausea through me. "You have no idea, Selaridon!" the thing said. "It has been so long since I have enjoyed myself! I am going to take my time pulling your mind apart. I cannot wait to dissect everything that makes you writhe."

I raised a hand, preparing myself to do something. To fight or flee, I did not know, but this laughing madman wearing the skin of one of my oldest friends wouldn't take me. It wouldn't take my wife.

The mad laughter was interrupted, however, when something green and silver streaked through the opening on the rooftops.

It happened far, far too fast for my orange-core senses to comprehend. One moment there was a creature atop a pile of rubble, wearing the skin of my old friend. The next, a dozen explosions and sounds of spellfire rumbled through the small space. On pure instinct, I knelt, conjuring a slight wall of earth to brace against the torrent of energy and movement not far beyond.

And then it was silent again, nearly as fast as the noise had come. I let out a terrified breath, holding Alice close. We clung to each other like drowned dogs, unable to speak for the power lingering in the air. That strange, foggy presence in my mind that was scouring and seeking seemed to evaporate, drifting into the winds as something else drew its attention. And through the scent of ozone and lingering lightning, I could smell…

Roses?

I cautiously peered over my makeshift barrier, scrutinizing the aftermath. I blinked in surprise as a familiar, silver figure stood in place of the makeshift Adam, her wet, luminously green hair clinging to her back. The woman's majestic uniform was covered in cuts, and blood streamed across nearly every inch. I thought I saw lightning burns spiraling outward from her exposed left shoulder, but she didn't even seem to notice.

Tessia Eralith stood alone on the mound of rubble, a swordstaff in hand like the leader of a conquering army. Vines shifted around her, each exhaling vapor that danced between her limbs like cautious fairies. She looked like she'd been through the fight of her life a few minutes ago, but her breathing was steady and her posture was more than alert.

As I stared up at the Lance who had just barely arrived in time, only one thought managed to work through the surprise.

Arthur, you better be a damn good husband one day. Because if you don't, I'll find a way to kick your ass myself for being an imbecile.

Tessia Eralith spat a wad of blood onto the ground, her teeth grinding. She spared us only a glance as she remained on top of that pile of rubble, poised like a dancer at the end of their routine. "Mister and Missus Leywin," she said with a breath of slight exhaustion, "it's good you're safe. Though I'm not sure whether that's going to remain the case."

I finally managed to work through the blockage in my throat. "The Scythe," I said, my voice irritatingly hoarse, "where is she? Is she dead?"

Tessia didn't spare me anything beyond a flick of her unsettlingly green eyes, before she returned to observing the air around us. "Viessa's still here. Watching and waiting," she said quietly, those eyes darting around and about. "She wants both of you. That's her goal, which means I won't let her."

Tessia slowly walked down the pile of rubble, and for a moment I was afraid that this was another trick or illusion. The verdant runes that cascaded under her eyes might be a little too green, or maybe too bright. It could all be another trick of the venomous Scythe.

The young woman halted a short way away from us, the vines around her leaking water vapor. She probably saw my wary hesitance, but she didn't show it. "The teleportation gates aren't safe." Tessia ground her teeth, her eyes darting to the distance, then back again. "I was keeping an eye on a traitor before this, but they made their move too quickly and slipped from my grasp. They're holding the gates now, and I have no idea what they're going to do. But I need to get you out of here. That's my priority."

I locked eyes with the elven princess for a moment, and I thought I understood why she and my son were so close. They were alike in that annoyingly familiar desire to protect those they cared for.

"Lance Silverthorn," Elder Camus said sharply, "how do you expect to get the Leywins out of Xyrus? If the asura-forsaken gates are held by the Alacryans, then the priority should be breaking their hold."

Tessia's fist clenched, and she shot the elder a slightly irritated glance. "I am not only here, Elder," she said, her voice straining to remain respectful. "But the priority of the Alacryans is Art's family. That means that I can't risk your capture, either. The Xyrus teleportation gates aren't universal gateways like Zestier's. They can only let people in, not be coded to connect to any others."

I forced myself to remain calm. Xyrus' teleportation gates could be shut off from the flying castle to prevent the widespread proliferation of Alacryan troops across the continent. It wasn't the absolute end of the world.

Then her ears twitched, and her head perked up. She looked about, her head focusing south. "And Arthur will be here soon, too. He's cleaning up some old business, and I'm quite sure negotiations just broke."

Lightning continued to flash overhead.

"Art will be here soon?" Alice asked, seeming to gather herself more. I gently set her down, both of us savoring this moment. "What's happening, Tessia? It's all just moving too fast."

Tessia's lips pursed as she looked at Alice. I saw compassion welling up along the nestled edges of her expression. "Oh, Missus Leywin, you are far from alone in that." The princess shook her head. "But right now, we can get you two to safety. Art would never forgive himself if you two got hurt."

Alice actually chuckled a bit at that, the mention of the one man that tied us all together setting my shoulders at ease.

"There's a safe house not far away that is easier to defend," Tessia started, her strangely green hair shifting as if it were almost alive. "If I take you there, then it would be easier for Elder Camus to—"

Tess' head snapped to the side, her eyes widening in alarm. I didn't sense anything, but the way the princess went suddenly rigid, like a tree frozen in time, made my slowly waning terror return all at once. "No… That can't be possible," she whispered. "I imbued that sliver of Willow with enough power to fight any of the Lances over months. How could it just be… in one strike?"

Her head whipped back to us, and this time it was hardened by worry and determination. "We need to move. Now. No time for slowing down."

"What just happened?" I asked, already scooping up my poor wife again. My heart ran like a thousand stallions stampeding in my chest for a reason I couldn't define. The thunderstorm seemed to go suddenly silent, and that sense of dread returned tenfold. "What's changed, Tessia?"

She didn't even give us the time to react. Vines spread from her, each as thick as the mightiest oak, and snatched me, Alice, and Albold from the ground. Her voice changed, losing its friendly flow and becoming something hardened and warformed. "Captain Chaffer, I need your senses on the skies. If you sense anything amiss, no matter what it is, you will tell me.

"And Elder Camus, keep your focus on the winds. I thought I had more time, but things have just changed. Same orders as Captain Chaffer. Cover my back. You're more in touch with the subtleties of the wind than I am."

Albold managed to cough out a stuttered "Yes, ma'am," in between his surprised gasp from being hauled up by a stream of vines. Elder Camus drifted forward, his wrinkles deepening.

"What is happening, Lance Silverthorn?" The old wind mage echoed my previous question, naturally drifting to the princess' side. The unflappable elf seemed to finally show a hint of fear.

Her eyes flickered with emerald light, the ambient mana warping slightly as she glared east. "I left a present behind to try and keep the traitor occupied until I was done rescuing all of you," she said, her swordstaff glistening in the rain. "But that assurance was just removed. Which means that every single invading Alacryan—and the traitors, too—will soon only have us as targets."