The Cost of a Crown

Dayne breathed in the warm night air of the new summer, dirt crunching beneath his feet as he, Mera, Marlin, and the others strode through the camp.

"How long until we're ready?" Dayne asked Tyr Arnen, High Commander of the Valtaran armies. After Alina's coronation and the events that unfolded, the decision was made to delay the attack on Achyron's Keep by a few weeks in order to allow reinforcements to arrive from Ironcreek, Skyfell, and Stormwatch. Some ten thousand souls had joined the camp over the past week, but they were still short.

"We're expecting another five thousand within the next three days, my lord." Tyr was a short man, with broad shoulders and a thick neck. His head was devoid of hair, while his beard was snow white and thick as a lion's mane. In Dayne's father's time, he'd been Redstone's master at arms. He was a simple man, and Dayne liked that. "There're another three hundred Wyndarii to be expected by midday tomorrow. They were patrolling the sea between Skyfell and Stormwatch, but as those waters are now firmly under our control, I thought it wise to call them in. I've also received word that Tordokal of House Inderes is sailing three ships along the coast filled with another four hundred warriors."

"Good. We'll need every length of steel we can find."

"That still puts our numbers at almost three thousand less than Loren has at Achyron's Keep." Ileeri, one of the Andurii captains, walked to Dayne's left alongside Barak and Urica of House Gurdur, who had been promoted to fill Odys's place. "And they have imperial forces bolstering their numbers."

"This is true," Dayne said, nodding. "But they fight for the pride of their lord and to keep the grey walls of Achyron's Keep under Lorian control. Is that worth dying for? Our warriors fight for freedom, Ileeri. We fight for our home. Never underestimate the power of a cause. That and we have something they don't have."

"What's that, my lord?"

"Wyverns, Ileeri." Mera, who walked to Dayne's right, gestured upwards, where wyverns soared over the camp, their scales glittering in the moonlight. "We have wyverns."

Ileeri gave Mera a broad smile, inclining her head. "That we do, Wyndarii."

Dayne cast his gaze over the camp as they walked. In all his days, he'd never seen something so massive. Just short of thirty-seven thousand Valtarans filled the camp. The day before, he'd climbed atop one of the ledges that overlooked the tents. The sight took his breath away, tents and campfires stretching as far as the eye could see, bronzed cuirasses glistening, wyverns soaring overhead. It was in the logistics of managing such a force that Dayne truly appreciated Tyr Arnen's expertise. Until that point, Dayne would never have believed the hardest thing about mustering an army that size would have been something as simple as putting food in their bellies. Tyr seemed to spend far more time organising supply lines than he did drilling soldiers.

"Ileeri, Urica. See to it at least half the Andurii are armoured and ready. Set up a guard rotation around the central camp throughout the night. We'll do so every night until we're ready to march." Dayne could see Tyr about to protest. "I'm not questioning your guards, Tyr. We are only days away from one of the biggest battles in Valtaran history, and we're too close to Achyron's Keep to take chances. Not to mention, after the coronation, I don't feel particularly trusting. I would rather be safe than sorry."

Tyr nodded in acquiescence, and Urica and Ileeri set off to make their arrangements.

"Alina is in the main tent?" Dayne asked Marlin. It was strange to see the man not garbed in the armour of the Andurii. But when Alina had asked Marlin to become her Archilius, she'd given him little choice but to accept, and he could not perform both roles.

Marlin inclined his head, his white-flecked hair oiled and pressed back. "She is."

"I'm assuming they're all there?" Since the coronation, Alina had kept the heads of the other Major Houses – and those of some of the larger Minor Houses – close, plying them with the finest wines and foods that could be procured. On the outside it may have looked as though she was trying to curry favour, but the truth of it was she was watching. Dayne wasn't particularly happy about it. He didn't trust most of the House heads – besides Senya Deringal and Vhin Herak – but he saw the logic in keeping them close. Wine led to loose lips, and loose lips would be needed to determine the truth of where allegiances truly lay. None of the heads of the Major Houses had shown Dayne open support during the stunt at the coronation, but just because they didn't side with him didn't mean they were happy to follow Alina. The new Valtaran nation was at a vulnerable stage. Extra care needed to be taken.

"Indeed they are."

"Guards?"

"Thirty-four within the tent, my lord," Tyr answered. "Eight at the entrance, and sixteen more stationed outside."

Dayne nodded, clasping his hands behind his back as he walked, his arm pressing against the hilt of his sword. "All Redstone guards?"

"As requested, my lord."

"Good. Mera, the Wyndarii?"

"Six guard Alina – including Amari and Lukira. One hundred are stationed atop the cliffs that overlook the camp. Sixty patrol the skies. The remainder are resting."

"All right. Let's go mingle with vipers."

The sound of music drifted on the wind as Dayne and the others approached the main tent – a lute, drums, and a flute by the sound of it. Bards and musicians always reminded Dayne of Belina. He hadn't heard from her in a while, which would have worried him if it were anyone else. Hopefully he'd see her soon; he'd never admit to Belina's face, but he noticed her absence every day.

As Tyr had said, eight guards stood at the entrance of the main tent, each garbed in the bronzed armour and burnt orange skirts of Skyfell's Redstone guard. When they had marched on the campaign across Valtara, they had left a garrison at Redstone, but they had brought most with them. The Redstone guards were some of the only warriors Dayne trusted, and trust was a commodity in short supply.

"Smile," Mera whispered as they walked into the tent.

Dayne twisted his lips into a mock grin, which drew a laugh from Mera.

The tent was easily sixty feet long, maybe forty across, and over a hundred people stood about talking, eating, and drinking. There were no chairs for sitting, but small circular tables sat about the space with trays of cheeses, cold meats, and fresh fruit resting atop them. Two large casks of wine stood in the corner near the door, an attendant watching over them and filling cups. Dayne cast his gaze about, counting the guards that stood along the tent walls – thirty-four.

"They're all there, my lord." Tyr raised his bushy white eyebrows, a knowing smile on his face. "You used to do that when you were a child as well. Always counting, always checking. I once watched you walk length and breadth of the gardens, counting your steps aloud. I'm going to speak with Yulin Karine. House Karine have been breeding some of the best horses in Valtara for almost a decade now."

As Tyr walked off towards the far end of the tent, Marlin nodded to Dayne. "I promised Senya a word. I'll speak with you both later." Marlin placed his hand on Dayne's shoulder, leaning in. "She's your sister. She'll come around. You know how strong headed she is. Just have patience, and try not to say anything stupid."

"Anything stupid?"

Marlin raised an eyebrow and tilted his head, taking a few steps past Dayne. "You know exactly what I mean, Dayne."

Dayne let out a heavy sigh as Marlin walked away. After the coronation, when everything had quietened down and night had fallen, both Alina and Marlin had been furious with Dayne. They weren't the only ones, but they were the ones that mattered. He'd tried to explain, tried to tell them how he couldn't have told them what was going to happen because he couldn't have risked Turik finding out what he was doing.

Marlin had understood – eventually. He'd seen the reasoning behind Dayne's plan and agreed if Turik had found out Dayne was planning to betray him, it all might have turned out very differently. Though, he'd also pulled Dayne aside and told him he should have gone about it another way – which Dayne agreed with, in part.

Alina, however, had barely spoken to Dayne since. Even as a child, she'd always been stubborn as a mule. She stood near the centre of the tent, talking with Rinek Larka; Vhin Herak and her wife, Sara; along with a number of other members of House Deringal and Herak. Amari, Lukira, and four other Wyndarii stood around Alina, swords belted their hips. Dayne did nothing to wipe the smile from his face as he looked at Alina in her long orange and white dress, the golden sunstone crown atop her head, the markings of the blade and spear on her arms, the black ink of the Wyndarii colouring her fingers and hands. The Wyvern Queen, he'd heard some of the soldiers calling her. What their mother would have given to hear that.

As one of the attendants handed Dayne and Mera a cup of wine each, Alina lifted her head and spotted them. A smile touched her lips as she nodded to Mera but evaporated as her gaze moved to Dayne. She gave him a barely perceptible nod, then turned back to her conversation.

"I told you she wouldn't like not being told," Mera said as she plucked a grape from a tray on one of the tables, popping it into her mouth.

"I had no choice. You know that." Dayne sipped his wine, frowning as he did. It held a bit of sweetness to it, but was far too dry and sharp for his tastes. "I needed her reaction to be genuine. She's never been a good actor."

Mera nodded absently, nibbling on a small block of cheese. She eyed Dayne askance. "What are you staring at?"

"Nothing," Dayne said, smiling.

Mera knocked her hip into his, causing him to stumble. "If you keep staring at me like a puppy, I'll have to take you back to bed."

"I wouldn't argue." Dayne kept a straight face as he sipped on his wine.

Mera narrowed her eyes, then shook her head, turning back to look over the tent's occupants. "I see Rogal Baleer has finally shown his face."

Dayne followed Mera's gaze to the right side of the tent, where young Rogal Baleer stood talking to two men and women Dayne didn't recognise – likely members of some of the Minor Houses. He let out a sigh, draining the contents of his cup and gesturing for an attendant to refill it . "He's head of House Baleer now."

"You did what needed to be done, Dayne. We couldn't allow Turik to continue spreading doubts and garnering support. The man's ambition knew no bounds. He used you as a figurehead, but had you not returned, he would have challenged Alina anyway. You protected your sister. You protected Valtara, Dayne."

Dayne nodded, his gaze shifting from Rogal to Aldon Thebal – the new head of House Thebal. Dayne had killed Aldon's father, Miron, during the siege of Myrefall. Dayne held no love for Miron – the man was a coward and had sold out his people to the empire – but Aldon was not his father. The boy had seen only sixteen summers. "I've killed the fathers of two young men in this room. Two young Valtarans – the people I swore to protect."

"Miron opened docks in Myrefall to imperial ships. He called Alina a warmonger. He was as much our enemy as the Lorian Empire. Again, you did what needed to be done."

"Why is it that what needs to be done is always killing?" Dayne glanced at Mera, raising an eyebrow, then looked at his hands. The hands that would never be clean.

Mera's expression softened, and she reached up, resting her hand atop his, sliding her fingers between the gaps. "That won't always be the way, Dayne. There will be a day where we sit at the edge of the Abaddian cliffs, the sunset glistening off the water, the sweet smell of oranges in the air, our ears filled with the sound of children playing. That is why we fight. So that one day we don't have to."

Tears wet Dayne's eyes, but none fell. He pulled Mera's hand to his lips and kissed her fingers. "You said children – more than one."

"It was a figure of speech, Dayne."

"You said it." Dayne smiled, squeezing Mera's hand softly before letting it go.

"Dayne Ateres, Andurios. And Mera Vardas. How is the night treating you?" Dayne had been so distracted by Mera he hadn't seen Tula Vakira approach. The woman stood with her arms folded, a cup of wine in her right hand. She wore a black tunic tied with a white leather belt. Her blonde hair was tied back into a ponytail, black spiral tattoos covered the shaved sides of her head.

Dayne and Mera both greeted Tula, inclining their heads.

"The night is well, I hope it is the same for you." Dayne held the woman's gaze.

"It is, it is. This much wine and cheese would make any night a good one." She picked up a slice of hard Gadeer cheese, breaking it in half with her teeth. Once she'd finished the first half, she tossed the second half into her mouth. "I know you're not much of a talker. But I came to say what you did at the coronation… I want you to know that House Vakira will stand behind you no matter what."

Dayne looked at Tula curiously. "You took your time to come to Alina's side, Tula. In fact, I believe it took a siege on your city for you to make up your mind. What has changed?"

"I took my time, young Ateres, because I had a Lorian blade at my throat." Tula frowned, narrowed her gaze at Dayne, then let out a sigh. "What has changed is that for the first time in my life I truly feel that a free Valtara is possible. Your sister is a woman who will do anything to bring these Houses together. And you are a man who will do anything to keep her alive. The problem our people have always faced is our unwillingness to come together. The Houses have always fought – even before The Fall. While we are divided we can never be strong. And so, long live the Wyvern Queen."

Tula raised her cup, and Dayne and Mera followed.

"Long live the Wyvern Queen."

Tula turned and said something to Mera, but the words faded to the back of Dayne's mind as a man passed him in the armour and skirts of the Redstone guard.

"Dayne?" Mera tapped him on the shoulder. "Dayne, what do you think?"

"Who's that?" Dayne nodded towards the Redstone guard who was making his way through the crowd towards the other side of the tent.

"I don't know. What does it matter?"

"I don't recognise his face." Dayne placed his cup on the table beside him and took a step forward.

"Why does that matter?" Tula asked

"I know all the Redstone guards." When Dayne finally came back to Redstone, he made a personal promise to learn the names and faces of each member of the Redstone guard. The night his parents died, two imposters had posed as Redstone guards and tried to sweep Alina away into the night. He had vowed to never let anything like that happen again. Dayne turned back to Mera. "Tell one of the guards outside to rouse the Andurii."

"Dayne, I—"

"Mera, don't question me." Dayne's voice was firmer than he'd intended, but he made no apologies. "Go."

Mera's face hardened. She nodded, then made for the tent's entrance.

Tula said something to Dayne, but he ignored her and walked after the guard, who was now making his way towards Alina. Dayne picked up his pace, dropping his right hand low so it hovered near his sword. His heart thumped, the skin on his arms prickling. He pushed past a man and woman having an argument. The sounds of the music and the talking became muffled, fading to the back of Dayne's mind as he drew closer to the guard.

He placed his hand on the man's shoulder. "Guard, your name?"

As the man turned, a shriek erupted from behind Dayne. Cries and gasps rang out. Dayne turned to see Senya Deringal clutching her throat, blood spilling down over green and gold robes. The woman stumbled backwards, eyes wide, veins bulging in her face. She collapsed backwards, smashing through a table.

There was a moment when everything went quiet and nobody moved. Dayne's gaze fell on the woman who stood where Senya had been standing, a bloody knife grasped in her fist – Reinan Sarr. She had been one of those Mera had warned Dayne about the day he'd announced his return.

Another shriek and the tent descended into chaos. Everywhere Dayne looked, knives and swords were being pulled, throats slit, lives ended.

"Death to House Ateres!"

Dayne spun. The man who had been posing as a Redstone guard stabbed at him with a knife. Dayne jerked back. He snatched at the man's knife hand, then rammed a closed fist down into his jaw. Bone crunched beneath the weight of Dayne's strike. He brought his fist down, hammering it into the pit of the man's knife arm while peeling back the fingers and prying the knife free. Shock painted the man's face as Dayne drove the knife up through the bottom of his jaw. Dayne yanked the blade free, and the body dropped to the ground.

Alina.

Dayne ripped his sword from its scabbard, keeping the knife in his left hand. Alina stood at the centre of the tent, her six Wyndarii standing about her with their swords drawn.

"No!" Alina cried, pushing through her Wyndarii and pulling a knife from somewhere within her dress.

Dayne followed Alina's gaze to watch as the young Rogal Baleer drove a sword through Vhin Herak's gut, twisting as he pushed it through. Beside him, one of Reinan Sarr's sisters stabbed a knife into Sara Herak's neck, pulling it free in spurts of blood, then ramming it back in.

Cries rang out from the front of the tent, the eight guards stationed outside charging in. But as the guards entered, Dayne felt a tingle on the back of his neck – the sensation of someone drawing from the Spark. Threads of Air gathered on the far side of the tent, and then, faster than Dayne's eyes could follow, small metallic objects streaked across the tent and punched through the guards in plumes of bloodmist. All eight of them fell, their bodies sluicing blood.

Dayne had seen that same manoeuvre enough times to know the weapons used were Hand throwing stars. He broke into a sprint, twisting as a blade was thrust towards him. He stabbed his knife into the neck of his attacker without halting his run, leaving the blade lodged in place. Another tingle of the Spark and Dayne threw himself to the floor, hearing the whoosh as the throwing stars sliced through the air above him. He scrambled to his feet, finding himself staring into the eyes of a man who wore the green and gold of House Deringal, but was quite clearly no Valtaran.

The assassin sent a whip of Air towards Dayne's legs, but Dayne sliced through the threads with Spirit. He closed the distance between them in two heartbeats. The man pulled a long knife free from a sheath at his hip and swung.

Dayne pushed forwards, moving inside the assassin's guard. He threw his left arm forwards, ramming his fist into the man's gut. As the assassin lurched forwards, Dayne leaned back and drove his sword up through the bottom of the man's chin. The blade burst up and out through the man's mouth, bone scraping, teeth snapping, blood spurting. Dayne ripped his sword free, shivering involuntarily at the sound of steel screeching off bone.

He turned to feel a battering ram of Air slam into his chest. The force of the blow lifted him off his feet and sent him careening into a tent pole, feeling the wood snap from the impact. Dayne groaned, rolling on his back, the coppery taste of blood on his tongue. Get up. He clenched his jaw, pulling himself to an upright position to see two women standing over him, blades in their hands, threads of Air and Earth whirling around them.

Dayne reached for the Spark, but as he did, the steel tip of a spear burst through the neck of the woman on the right, a second spear punching through the other woman's gut. As the spears were wrenched free and the bodies collapsed, two warriors in the armour of the Andurii stepped forwards: Iloen Akaida and Juna Toradin – the woman Alina had once set to watch over Dayne.

Iloen hauled Dayne to his feet. "Andurios." He gave a sharp nod, switching his spear to his shield hand and shrugging another shield from his back, handing it to Dayne.

Dayne slid his arm through the leather strap of his father's shield, gripping the handle near the rim. "My thanks, Iloen."

"Dayne!"

Dayne turned at the sound of Mera's voice. She marched into the tent, tossing him a spear which he snatched out of the air. A glance around the tent told him the attackers were all dead, but so were many others. Tables were shattered, bodies littered the ground, and blood fed the earth.

Dayne moved to where Alina and her Wyndarii still stood at the centre of the tent, swords drawn. Marlin, Tula Vakira, Rinek Larka, and a number of other nobles from both Major and Minor Houses stood around them. "Are you hurt?"

"I'm fine." The tremble in Alina's voice told Dayne his sister was far from fine. Her gaze trailed over the dead bodies. "Senya… Vhin… Tyr… they're all dead. So many dead."

Dayne moved his spear into his shield hand and stepped past Lukira, clasping his hand to Alina's cheek. He turned his sister's head towards him, meeting her gaze. "But you're still alive. We will mourn later. Now we need to take control of the situation. Understood?"

Alina nodded, her usual confidence and surety drained from her. Senya had been like a second mother to Alina. The woman had even helped to deliver her.

"I'm here, Alina." Dayne pulled her face closer, staring into her eyes. "I'm here. By blade and by blood I am your sword. Now we need to move." Dayne turned to see more Andurii flooding into the tent. Two of his captains – Ileeri and Dinekes – pushed to the front. "What's our situation?"

"Attacks all over the camp, Andurios." Blood was splattered across Dinekes's helm and shield. "Thebalan and Koraklon colours mostly, but many of the Minor Houses as well. Lorian mages are inside the boundary – Hand assassins by the looks of it. And…" Dinekes hesitated.

"What?"

"Wyverns, Andurios. I can't tell how many, but they're fighting in the sky."

"Hera Malik," Alina hissed. The muscles in her jaw twitched, and she started forwards.

Dayne put his hand on Alina's shoulder. "Where are you going?"

"I'm going to mount Rynvar and tear that bitch from the sky. You were right, I should have killed her. A mistake I won't make again."

"I can't keep you safe in the sky, Alina."

"I don't need you to keep me safe, Dayne. You're my sword, not my shield. I need you to make them bleed. My Wyndarii and I will clear the skies. You clear the ground." She moved closer. "Together."

"Together," Dayne said with a nod.

The shrieks and cries of wyverns filled the skies as Dayne and the others emerged from the main tent. All three hundred and fifty of Dayne's Andurii stood in the space before the tent, ordo shields and valynas gripped in their fists.

Dayne could see fire blazing all about the camp, the sound of colliding steel blending with shouts and screams.

"I will bleed them slow for this," Alina growled, looking about at the chaos. "Why? We are so close to what we've been fighting for. Why now?"

"Some can't see past their own desires, my Queen." Marlin rested his hand on Alina's shoulder. "This is your first test. Show them who you are."

Alina nodded slowly. "By blade and by blood. Dayne you—"

A piercing shriek cut Alina short as a wyvern with dark brown scales dropped from the sky and hurtled towards them, talons outstretched.

Dayne opened himself to the Spark, pulling on threads of Air. He threw back his shoulder and made to launch his spear, but as he did, a roar erupted from behind him.

Rynvar's orange scales glinted in the light of the fires as he swept overhead and crashed into the brown wyvern. Rynvar wrapped one talon around the creature's neck, the other slicing into its side. As he ripped the wyvern from the sky, Rynvar opened his jaws and tore the rider clean in half, blood sprinkling down like crimson rain. A cloud of dust plumed as Rynvar slammed the other wyvern into the ground, tearing out its throat.

Five more wyverns dropped around Rynvar. Two with Wyndarii on their backs, three riderless. Dayne recognised the riderless wyverns as Syndil, Urin, and Audin – those bonded to Amari, Lukira, and Mera.

Alina ran towards Rynvar, Dayne and the others following after her.

"My Queen!" One of the Wyndarii called from the back of her wyvern. "Koraklon and Lorian forces are advancing from the east. Tens of thousands."

"Fuck!" Alina roared. "That's what they've done? They've cut a deal with Loren and the empire. Burn them all. Cowards!"

"Alina." Dayne moved his head to catch Alina's gaze. "Alina, we need to sound the retreat. We can't organise in this chaos. It will be a slaughter."

"Retreat?" Alina glared at Dayne, fury pulsing from her in waves, her voice growing louder. "Retreat? Have you lost your mind? We will not let them win here."

"They've already won, Alina. Senya is dead, as is Vhin, Tyr, and countless others. They've only won the battle, not the war. If you let them goad you into fighting here, they will take everything."

"Dayne is right." Marlin gestured at the burning tents. "If we stay and fight, we play into their hands. This move was calculated, my Queen. They targeted you and your allies. They've thrown us into disarray, cut the heads off House Deringal and Herak. We need to be smart. Sound the retreat, fall back through the pass between the cliffs on the west. You clear the skies, we'll light the way for our forces. Our task now is keeping as many alive as we can. It's simple, Alina. Fight and die, or fall back, lose the battle, but have a chance at winning the war."

"Fuck." Alina clenched her jaw, shaking her head. "Gods dammit. All right. Go." Alina gestured towards Tula Vakira and the other nobles – among which were Tula's son, Vhin Herak's three sisters, and Senya's niece. "Keep them safe, Dayne."

Dayne nodded. "By blade and by blood."

As Alina marched off to mount Rynvar, Mera pulled at Dayne's shoulder. She cupped her hands around his cheeks and pulled him in, pressing her lips against his. "Remember," she said, pulling away. "We fight so that one day we don't have to. I love you, Dayne."

"With all my heart." Dayne kissed Mera on the forehead, and she ran to Audin, climbing up his back and buckling herself in before he lifted into the air.

Dayne drew in a calming breath. He could feel the rage rising within him, simmering in his blood. Everything felt like it did the night Loren betrayed them all those years ago. Once again, Valtarans were turning their backs on each other, spilling their own blood, and the only one who benefitted was the empire. He would not let it break his House again. Dayne didn't push the rage away, he embraced it, letting it burn in his heart.

"Andurii," Dayne bellowed at the top of his lungs, beating his spear off his shield.

The Andurii all stood to attention, spears smacking off shields, followed by the response, "Andurios."

The flickering light of the burning tents shimmered off the Andurii shields, the wyvern of House Ateres emblazoned across their front in white. "The lines have been drawn! Those who would stand against us, those who would stand against a free Valtara, have stepped from the shadows." Dayne walked closer to the front line of the Andurii, casting his gaze over the warriors who had slowly grown to be like brothers and sisters to him. Men and women he would be proud to die beside. "You are the Andurii of House Ateres. You are the spears of Valtara. The Lorians will learn to fear your name!"

"AH-OOH!"

The response sent a shiver through Dayne, spears cracking off shields. He remembered watching the Andurii when he was a child, remembered hearing the stories of legend. Now they were his Andurii. He stood where his father once stood. "We march for the western pass. Protect all who stand in Alina's name. Those who stand against us, die. Valtara will be free by blade and by blood." Dayne reached out to one of his captains, Barak, who stood with what looked to be Dayne's helmet beneath the crook of his arm. Barak handed Dayne the white-crested helmet, and Dayne slid it into place, the steel cool against his skin. He dropped his voice. "Do not hesitate. Do not contemplate mercy."

The horns of retreat bellowed in the night as Dayne, Marlin, the other nobles, and the Andurii cut their way through the camp.

Sweat slicked Dayne's body, covering his arms and dripping off his nose. He drew in long, slow breaths, his feet hammering against the ground. As they moved, Dayne reached out to the Spark, pulling on threads of Air and Spirit, feeling the cool touch of Air tickle his skin. He weaved the threads into his voice, calling out, "We make for the western pass! Fall back!"

His voice boomed through the air, loud as thunder, echoing off the cliffs that overlooked the camp. The horns were well enough, but in the midst of chaos, the clearer the retreat the more lives would be saved.

"Andurios!" Ileeri pointed to the left, where a group of men and women clutching ordo shields and valynas charged from between a clutch of tents. Their skirts were the green and gold of House Deringal.

Dayne tightened his fingers around the haft of his valyna. "Declare yourselves!"

"House Deringal." A tall woman stepped forwards, a bronzed cuirass guarding her chest, the markings of spearmaster on her right arm. "We are going to Senya Deringal. Then we make for the western pass."

"Senya is dead," Dayne called back. "Killed by the traitors. Anda is now head of House Deringal." Dayne gestured to Senya's niece, Anda.

Anda Deringal stepped forwards, tears streaking down her face, her eyes raw from crying. She was Alina's age, with two markings of the spear and shield. She was kind but timid. Though Dayne realised she had just watched her entire family die: her mother, her father, her sister, her aunt. "It is true. My aunt is dead. They're all dead."

"Then we follow you, my lady." The tall woman looked over Dayne and the Andurii, a recognition in her eyes. "Andurios. I am Olivian of House Arnon. We are the Queen's spears, we're with you."

Dayne nodded. "Then let's keep moving."

More stragglers joined as Dayne and the others made their way across the enormous camp towards the western pass. Though not all that approached them were friends, and those who weren't now lay dead in the dirt.

"It looks as though many of the Wyndarii favour the queen." Dayne followed Tula Vakira's gaze to the sky. Rynvar was twice the size of most other wyverns, and his orange scales glittered in the firelight as he soared overhead. Even from the ground it was clear to see that far more wyverns flew at Rynvar's back than against him.

"Hera had maybe sixty to her cause," Marlin said, studying the sky as they moved. "And Reinan Sarr had garnered favour with many of the Minor Houses."

"Their blood will feed the earth," Dayne said with a growl, pulling his gaze from the sky. He could see the western pass ahead, a clear strip of open ground between it and them with tents rising on either side. Only about six hundred feet.

A high pitched screech stung Dayne's ears.

"Wyverns!" one of the Andurii called out.

Dayne turned to see a blue scaled wyvern drop from the sky and snatch two Andurii in its talons, shredding them like parchment. The creature cracked its wings, rising again without ever touching the ground. A second wyvern plummeted, ripping one of the Deringal spearmen in half with its jaws, then caving in a noble's skull with a flick of its tail. The creature cut through five of the Deringal warriors before it made to rise, but the Andurii spears plunged through its scaled hide. Steel sliced again and again, the creature shrieking and howling as it collapsed, crushing two men beneath it.

The Wyndarii, still buckled to the wyvern's saddle, howled and groaned. She pulled at her buckles, blood pouring from a wound in her leg.

Dayne looked at the woman, then to Iloen, who stood over her. "Do not hesitate. Do not contemplate mercy."

Iloen nodded, then drove his spear down into the woman's chest, stopping her cries.

More screeches and roars rang out, and Dayne saw a number of wyverns turn in the sky, angling downwards towards them.

"Must be the white crests," Marlin said leaning in. "We're moving targets for them."

"Let them come," Barak said, shifting his spear into an overhand grip. "I don't have wings, so it's easier to kill them if they come to me." The big man rolled his neck side to side, bones cracking.

Three wyverns swooped down in formation, staying close, then spreading. One banked left, the other right.

"Barak, Thuram, Tarine, aim for the middle one. The rest of you hold your spears. We can't afford to lose them."

As the wyverns drew closer, Thuram launched his spear into the air. The spear swept past the middle wyvern's flank as the creature rolled in the air. Barak and Tarine threw at the same time. Barak's spear skittered off the wyvern's scales, but as the creature swept left to avoid it, Tarine's spear punched clean through its neck. The wyvern spun and tumbled in the air, its wings flapping in the wind, blood spurting as it shrieked. And then, by some divine intervention, it collided with the second wyvern that moved to attack the group from the left. Both beasts slammed into a blazing tent, shrieks and cries ringing out as the sparks burst upwards.

As the Andurii cheered, the third wyvern, with scales of bright green, crashed down. Its talons tore through three Andurii, ripping the life from their bodies. A swing of its tail caught Thuram in the ribs, his body dropping limp. The Wyndarii on the wyvern's back launched a javelin, taking one of Vhin Herak's sisters through the chest. A second sweep of its tail and three more warriors fell, and then, with a crack of its wings, the wyvern lifted into the air.

Another roar. Dayne looked up to see Mera's wyvern, Audin, soaring overhead. The creature's red scales shimmered, its wings spreading wide. Dayne's heart clenched as his gaze fell on Mera sitting at the nape of Audin's neck, a javelin gripped in her fist. Audin collided with the green wyvern, tearing it from the air in a cloud of blood. Talons raked and jaws snapped. Dayne watched as Mera twisted, a javelin soaring past her head. She pulled herself upright in her saddle, then launched her own javelin in return. The weapon slammed into the other Wyndarii's face, bursting through her eye. She went limp, flopping backwards in her saddle, only held in place by her straps.

Audin slammed the green scaled wyvern into the dirt, clamped his jaws around its head, and ripped its lower jaw free in a spray of blood. The wyvern stood over his prey for a fleeting moment, then unleashed a monstrous roar, blood and spit spraying from his maw.

The Andurii and the others with them all cheered, roaring as they thrust their spears in the air. Pride swelled in Dayne's chest as he looked at Mera. She looked like the Wyndarii of old.

"Keep moving," Mera shouted as Audin climbed off the body of the dead wyvern. Mera looked to Dayne. "The way to the pass is clear. The Lorian and Koraklon forces are still moving across the camp from the east. We'll try and keep the wyverns off you."

Without waiting for a response, Mera and Audin lifted into the air, spirals of dust sweeping up in their wake.

Dayne and the others hadn't made it fifty feet before another piercing shriek erupted and a wyvern swept towards them from behind. Dayne recognised the green-tinged yellow scales of Hera Malik's wyvern, Yarsil. The creature's eyes gleamed in the firelight as he soared towards them, but then at the last second, Yarsil pulled up, letting out a high pitched shriek as he did. Dayne followed the creature's flight, a gust of wind sweeping over him.

"They're coming back around!" Dayne called out.

"Dayne!"

Dayne turned at the sound of Tula Vakira's voice. His blood turned to ice.

He dropped his shield and spear to the dirt, his legs feeling like lead as he took a step forwards. Marlin knelt on the ground, his hands clasped around the shaft of a javelin that protruded from his chest. Blood spilled around the wood, seeping into Marlin's robes, staining them crimson.

Dayne crashed to the ground beside Marlin, catching the man before he fell on his side. He held the back of Marlin's head with his left hand, his right hand keeping the man steady. "Marlin, it's all right. It's…"

Marlin's head lolled in Dayne's hand, the life gone from his eyes. Around him, Dayne heard screams and shouts as more wyverns descended, but his sole focus was on Marlin. He wanted to speak, but all his lips did was tremble. Memories flooded his mind: Marlin handing him his first practice sword, teaching him his first form, picking him up every time he fell. Marlin Arkon had been a second father to Dayne. He had never faltered. He'd saved Dayne and Alina's life in Redstone. He brought Alina and Baren to safety. He watched over Alina all these years, guided her, protected her, taught her. He deserved better. Tears streaked through the dirt and blood that coated Dayne's face. Tears of sorrow. Tears of rage. He reached his hand forward and closed Marlin's eyes. "I swear to you, I will kill them all. I will tear them apart, and I will feed Valtara with their blood. We will be free, Marlin. I promise. Thank you. Thank you for always believing in me… even when I didn't."

Marlin's words echoed in Dayne's ears as he laid the man on his side. It doesn't matter what anyone thinks of you. Show them who you are.

Dayne rested his hand on Marlin's shoulder. He took one last look at the man who'd helped raise him, then rose to his feet, his blood turning to fire in his veins. Hera Malik's wyvern, Yarsil, swept across the sky overhead, circling back around for another pass.

A hand grasped at Dayne's shoulder. Barak's lips were moving, but Dayne heard nothing apart from the beating of his heart and the screeching of the wyverns. He moved past Barak and snatched up his shield and spear, walking towards the approaching wyvern.

Dayne drew in slow breaths as he stared at the yellow-scaled creature hurtling towards him. He pulled back his shoulder and launched his spear through the air. Yarsil rolled, but the steel still cut a bloody furrow through his flank.

Yarsil dropped lower, unleashing a monstrous shriek, eyes fixed on Dayne. Hera Malik sat at the nape of the wyvern's neck, a javelin in her hand. Yarsil dipped his head, and Hera launched the javelin.

Dayne watched the weapon's flight, then shifted his feet and hefted his shield at an angle. A thud vibrated through his arm as the javelin bounced off the shield's rim, skittering away. Lowering the shield, Dayne kept his eyes fixed on Yarsil. 'A hunter never looks away,' he could hear Belina saying.

Dayne opened himself to the Spark. He let his anger simmer and boil, his jaw clenching, fingers twisting into a fist so tight it pained him. I will not run again. Dayne let out a breath. I am Dayne Ateres. He pulled on each elemental strand, letting them flow through him like rivers. He funnelled the threads into his hand: Earth, Fire, Water, Air, Spirit. The power of the Spark thrummed through him, pulsing in waves. "This is my home."

Energy surged through Dayne as the words left his lips. Tendrils of white light burst from his hand in both directions, winding around themselves. Energy crackled over his skin like lightning as the tendrils weaved together, leaving a solid form in their wake. Within moments, Dayne held a spear of coruscating white light in his hand. A níthral. A Soulblade.

Yarsil let out a shriek at the sight of the níthral and tried to pull up, but Dayne stepped forwards, rolled his shoulder back, and launched his níthral through the air. The white spear plunged into the wyvern's chest as he tried to rise, bursting out the other side in a mist of blood and gore. As the wyvern dropped from the sky and the spear of white glistened in the dark, Dayne released his hold on the níthral.

As soon as the spear faded from existence, Dayne summoned it once more, drawing deeper on threads of each element. The white spear burst into life in his hand once more as Yarsil crashed to the ground before him.

Dirt and dust lifted as the wyvern slid across the earth, the life drained from his body. His soul sheared.

Dayne walked forwards, watching as Hera scrambled to undo her straps. The woman fumbled with the buckles, glancing up towards Dayne with every step he took. She undid the last buckle and fell from the creature's back, gasping as she hit the ground. Hera tried to push herself to her feet, but Dayne stepped forwards and planted his foot square in her chest, knocking her onto her back.

Dayne moved so he stood over Hera, the white light of his níthral illuminating her blood splattered face. "You deserve nothing, Hera Malik. May your soul wander the void until time breaks."

Hera lifted her hands, but Dayne drove his níthral down through her chest, staring into her eyes as the light left them. He pulled the spear free, releasing it, then turned back towards the others.

Dayne stood there for a moment, looking at the shock and awe on the faces of the Andurii, the nobles, and the other warriors who had joined them. "Make for the pass," he called out. "This war has only begun."