Dan was returned to Isadora as he had requested. He said goodbye to Jaseff and Francois, the only two besides himself who had survived out of the forty or more who had set out from Hyleran. Francois didn’t understand why Dan wanted to go back, but Dan thought Jaseff saw an inkling of the truth.

Dan knew that he wouldn’t be able to use his gloves to escape. He had used them too many times for them to go unnoticed. Once he returned, they would be replaced, and he would have to find a new way to get past the Barrier.

Before leaving, Dan found NT9 again. NT9 assured him that RR had not been about to kill him when Vydar summoned him. Dan was too valuable for her to do that. He would be knocked out, and questioned when he woke. If they decided they could still use him somehow, he would be spared. If not, he would be studied, in hopes that what had gone wrong with him didn’t happen to any others. But he wouldn’t be killed. Even in his ‘damaged’ state, they could still learn from his mind.

Dan however had a plan. He hadn’t come all this way just to never see Heleer again. He would make sure they were together no matter what it took, and after speaking to NT9, he knew how. It all rested on RR.

As he had expected, the moment the world stopped spinning and the swirling colors resolved themselves into the familiar walls of the prison block, Dan was knocked out.  He woke what seemed a short time later, lying on a soft – if thin – bed, even white lights above him.

The first thing he did was look at his gloves. They had been changed: he could see that the safeties which NT9 had installed were gone. There had been no way around that. And that meant…

“You have returned from Valhalla.”

Dan glanced to his left. RR was standing there, watching him with her unblinking yellow eyes, their glow muted behind their protective plate. Even though he knew now what she was, and what she was doing, the sight of her calmed Dan. He felt himself relax.

RR leaned forward. “What general did you serve on Valhalla?” she asked.

Dan remained silent. The soulborgs couldn’t be allowed to get that kind of information from him. Not yet.

“What generals were alive when you left?” RR pressed.

Dan was silent.

RR sat back. For a moment they simply watched each other.

“I know you need me,” Dan said.

RR watched him silently.

“You need me,” Dan repeated. “I know all about what you use us for, the other prisoners. I also know about Valhalla. I’ve lived there for the past months.”

“Continue,” RR said, her voice unphasable.

“You can’t afford to kill me,” Dan said. “Every Mariedian you kill sets you back years, I know that now. You need us. You need me.”

RR watched him silently.

“I want to strike a deal,” Dan said. He waited, hardly daring to breathe.

“Continue,” RR said after a moment. She showed no emotion whatsoever.

“Send me back,” Dan said, speaking carefully, afraid he would say something wrong. “Send me back to Heleer. I won’t try to escape. I won’t tell her where I’ve been, or what you’re doing. I won’t tell her anything. You can continue collecting your data from both of us.”

“You will try to convince her to escape,” RR said calmly. “You have demonstrated before that you cannot refuse the urge to escape, and you will want to take her with you.”

“Yes,” Dan agreed. “I will try to convince her. But if you watch us half as closely as I think you do, you know that nothing I say will convince her to leave.” He took a breath. “It will be the other way around. She’ll eventually convince me to stay instead.”

RR was silent, but Dan had just realized something.

“That’s why you put us together in the first place, isn’t it? So that I would want to stay? You knew she could convince me.”

RR was silent for a moment. “Yes,” she said. “That was our… original goal.”

“I’ll stay there,” Dan said. “I’ll be content, and I won’t try to escape. You can keep studying both of us, and in time, you’ll learn everything I know about Valhalla. I know you’ll use the SR Unit to eventually trick me into telling you.”

He leaned forward. This wasn’t part of his plan. “I want one thing in return,” he said. “One thing, otherwise I won’t cooperate, and you’ll lose me, and everything you could learn from me.”

RR watched him silently.

“I want to know who my parents were, and why I can’t remember anything about them.”

RR watched him for what was surely a full minute. Neither of them spoke. Then, seeming to come out of deep thought, RR’s eyes flared briefly brighter, then dimmed to their normal strength.

“Your parents were rebels,” she said tonelessly. “They were part of a coordinated attack on this complex, and were wounded. We saved them, repaired their wounds, and gave them a place to stay. They called it a prison. They tried to escape. They did so twice, damaging the minds of many others in the process. The second attempt was deemed too damaging to repair, and too expensive to quell. They were allowed to escape, along with those they had freed.”

A slow smile crept onto Dan’s face. His parents were rebels. They had helped others see their horizons. They could even still be alive.

“I’m ready to see Heleer,” he said.

RR didn’t lead Dan down the halls as he had expected. She showed him to a panel in the wall which slid aside to reveal a tall box: the Shaft. Dan would be sent straight to Heleer, with no chance to see any of the other prisoners. He supposed it made sense.

As he stood in the Shaft and it rattled its way towards his old home, he knew what he would have to do. It was his horizon to show others theirs. Well, he couldn’t reach anyone except Heleer at the moment, so she was who he would have to convince first.

Dan had seen struggle and success. He had seen grief and joy. He knew now that there was a difference between happiness, and simple contentment.

He would give Heleer the struggle she needed, but when the time was right, he would give in. She would win. That would be the first time she had ever fought for something, and gained it. It would have to be real. Dan would have to give up his horizon for her. And he would, because he knew that once she tasted the happiness of success, she would want more.

That desire would grow, like it had grown in him, until one day, when the time was right, she would convince him, as he would need her to, to pursue his horizon once more. And then, together, they would escape at last, and pursue their horizons together.

It would be a long time before Dan saw the outside world again. It would be years, maybe even decades. But he would see it again. Heleer would make sure he did, even when he himself did not want to. She would have to.

The Shaft rattled to a halt, and the panel slid open. RR had said that Heleer was in the middle of SR, so Dan wasn’t surprised to see no one to meet him. He stepped out of the Shaft. The panel in the wall slid closed soundlessly, and the Shaft rattled away, the sound eventually disappearing.

His home was just as Dan remembered it: the bedroom, the stairs in the narrow hall, the bathroom beyond. In the hall beyond the Barrier, reflected on the far wall, Dan saw the blue-white light he had seen so many times before: flickering, dimming, growing, on and off. He remembered what Bern – the Mariedian he had met in Hyleran – had told him. “We set patterns of flickering Barriers, sequences pointing to the service entrances.” Finally, he knew what that light must be. He was seeing the reflection of the neighboring Barrier flickering.

Dan smiled. When Heleer convinced him to escape, he would know where to go. He saw the camera watching him from the wall, and smiled at it. He might not be home yet, but he would be.

When Heleer was ready.

The End

Dan returned to the land of the living after what seemed like a very long time. The first thing he noticed was that he wasn’t in pain. At least compared to how he had felt. His arms might be sore and aching like they had been sliced open and sewn back together, his head might be throbbing with a headache, and his skin might be itching and tingling, but compared to the mind-numbing agony he had felt, it was nothing. He opened his eyes.

Jaseff was healing his arms, his long hair hiding his face as he bent over Dan.

“What happened?” Dan asked, making Jaseff jump.

“Good morning to you too,” Jaseff said. “It’s over. Utgar’s dead.”

“And the alliance?”

“Gone,” Jaseff said. “Vydar’s the only Valkyrie left. He used Utgar to kill them all, even convincing him to betray Valkrill.”

“Then that means…”

“The war is over.”

Dan sat up. “What about Francois? Caela? The others?”

“Francois’ alive,” Jaseff said. “No thanks to himself. He tried charging one of those demons on his own; woke up here a few days later. I haven’t seen Caela. Gideon and Laelia didn’t make it.”

“I was there,” Dan said, lying back down. He was silent for a moment. “So if Vydar’s won… what does that mean for us? For Valhalla, for that matter?”

“I don’t know,” Jaseff said. “Vydar’s already secured all of the amulets. Apparently he had strike forces just waiting for his command to seize them. They’re being sent to his wellspring as we speak. As far as you and me go… I don’t think he’s planning on executing anyone, not even Utgar’s or Valkrill’s soldiers. But I don’t know exactly what he’s planning.

“However,” Jaseff added, “you’ll have a chance to find out. Vydar said that as soon as you were able, he wants to see you. He didn’t say why,” he added, as Dan opened his mouth.

But… why? Dan wasn’t stupid enough to believe that Vydar would honor his promise to Dan. Dan had betrayed him, and possibly even forced him to act prematurely by saving Gideon and the others. Not to mention that he had killed a lot of his kyrie when they were attacked. No, something else was in store for Dan.

It was two days before Dan was able to move without bursting into pain, and a third before he was finally able to hobble around the great hall of Liesic, which now served as a hospital. On the fifth day, the healers finally agreed that he could leave.

A kyrie of Vydar was waiting for Dan outside the door. The kyrie led him through a maze of halls, through several doors, and finally motioned him to a staircase, which winded tightly upwards.

“Vydar is waiting for you,” he said.

Wondering if his trials were just beginning, Dan ascended the stairs. He finally came to a small landing and a solid-looking wooden door. He gently eased it open, and then paused a moment.

He was on one of the highest walls of Liesic. It was narrow, battlements on both sides, the keep on one side, the city stretching out far below on the other. A haze of smoke still hung in the air, but the city no longer burned, and the sun was no longer red.

Vydar stood on the wall, leaning on the battlements, gazing out over Liesic. Standing next to him, a cowl pulled over her head, was a kyrie woman. Neither one of them had seen Dan.

“I still hear it,” Vydar whispered. “The battle. The rush of fire and clash of weapons still echo in my ears.”

The kyrie woman spoke, and Dan instantly recognized her voice. “It will pass,” Caela said quietly, staring out over Liesic as well.

Vydar turned to her. “How can you be sure?”

Caela turned to face him, and as she did so, saw Dan standing nearby. She looked at him for only a moment, and then turned to Vydar. “Because the war is over,” she said softly. “The time for conflict is over. Now is the time to rebuild what was destroyed, and to rediscover what was lost.”

Dan saw her look at Vydar meaningfully as she said those words, and though Vydar was facing away from him, he felt a change come over the Valkyrie. He was silent.

Caela looked at Vydar steadily, and then gave a slow nod.

Vydar embraced her, and she hugged him warmly, as if they were old friends long parted. Dan didn’t know what to do, so he just stood there, waiting for Vydar to notice him.

“Why?” Vydar whispered as he held Caela close. “Why were you in Hyleran? I could have lost you.”

“I didn’t know what you were planning,” Caela whispered back. “I didn’t know your alliance with Utgar was temporary. I thought you had joined him. My loyalty was to our people, and I knew how Utgar would treat them. So I didn’t join him.”

“I should have told you,” Vydar berated himself. “At least hinted at what was coming. What might have happened in Hyleran…” He held Caela closer.

They eventually pulled apart, and Vydar looked out over Liesic one last time, and beyond, over Valhalla itself. Dan could see his weather-beaten face now, and he saw nothing but happiness, the same happiness he had once seen in Gideon, as he lay next to Laelia in the forest.

“We’ll rebuild,” Vydar said. “One stone at a time, but we’ll fix everything we’ve destroyed.” He glanced at Caela. “Everything,” he promised.

In reply, Caela nodded in Dan’s direction. Vydar turned, saw him, and then beckoned him forwards. Caela took a few steps away. Dan glanced at her, but her face told him nothing. Not knowing what else to do, Dan stepped forward and closed the door.

For a long time they just stood there, Mariedian and Valkyrie, silent, watching each other. Then Vydar spoke.

“What are you thinking, Dan?” he said. “What are your thoughts on all… this?” he gestured to Liesic below them.

Thoughts? He had plenty of thoughts, most of which he wouldn’t say to Vydar if he wanted to stay alive. He said nothing.

“Do you think I’m a monster?” Vydar asked.

“Perhaps,” Dan said. “You have acted as one.”

Vydar sighed. “Yes,” he said. “Yes, I have. I told myself it was all for a good cause, but even now I doubt my words.”

“A good cause?” Dan echoed. “The conquering of Valhalla? The slaying of its people? What causes are those?”

Vydar slowly shook his head. “No,” he said. “Those are no causes, and they are never ones I would adopt. I fought for only one thing, and I think you know what that is.”

Dan knew. “How can you say you fight for your people, when you have shown so little regard for the lives of others?” A hint of anger at Vydar entered Dan’s voice despite his best attempts.

Vydar looked at him. “Because there was no other way,” he said. “Maybe in a more… civilized world, things would have been different. But in war, especially in a war such as this was… there can be no doubt. There can be no moment of indecision. If you are lenient, if you are compassionate, if you let your fallen foe get back up, he will strike you down without hesitation.”

“And you believe the people you have slain were your enemy?” Dan said venomously.

“Yes,” Vydar said. “At least, in a way. When Ullar threatened my borders, I joined Utgar to drive him out. When Utgar then poisoned my waters, I joined the alliance to stop him. And when my people suffered because of the war, I made a deal with Utgar to end it. Every time, my allies were more than willing to turn on me. I showed them only the same amount of trust they showed me.”

“And that makes what you did right?” Dan said.

“No,” Vydar said quickly. “Nothing could make what I’ve done right. I’ve had to lie, murder, and betray to keep my people safe. I had to hurt many. Was it right? No. Never. But it was necessary. If this war was ever to end, it was necessary. That doesn’t make it right, but it’s done now, and it cannot be undone. You must understand that, Dan.”

Dan was silent. Certainly he understood it. He himself had been willing to go to any lengths to get Heleer back, at least until the moment in Valkrill’s caves. He had found the line he wouldn’t cross. Vydar had found that line, but had crossed it anyway, knowing that not doing so would bring even more suffering on Valhalla. That didn’t make Vydar a good person. But he was, perhaps, at least one Dan could understand.

“I will have to answer for my crimes,” Vydar said, “and I will. But until that time, the least I can do is try to fix some of the damage I have caused, and repair some of the lives I have ruined.”

Vydar took a breath. “I once made you a promise, Dan. You upheld your end of the deal as much as any man could be expected to. It is time I honored mine. Once the amulets are in place, I will summon anyone you wish.”

Dan felt like he should be surprised, but he wasn’t. Somehow, through all of his hatred of Vydar, he had known that he wasn’t the enemy. The enemy was Utgar. It had always been Utgar. Vydar was extreme, possibly even misguided, but he wasn’t selfish. Aviir had been right: he was selfless to the point of doing what no one else could bare to do so that Valhalla would have peace. And he was willing to take the consequences, whatever those were. Now it was Dan’s turn.

“What about Terav?” Dan asked. “He told me the deal was off.”

“Terav doesn’t speak for me,” Vydar said quietly. “I made a promise, and I keep my promises. I promised I would summon the one you wished, and I will.”

Here, at last, on this wall, he could have Heleer. They could have a life together, here in Valhalla, away from the soulborgs, away from Isadora. Somewhere out there, surrounded by nothing but trees and green hills, they could live the rest of their lives. Dan looked out over Liesic, to the rising sun, shining its brilliance on the new Valhalla. He sighed.

“No,” he said.

Vydar looked surprised. “No?”

“No,” Dan repeated. He had found his horizon. At last, in a world he had never wanted to be a part of, he had found it. He knew what it was now. He knew it was his horizon to show others theirs. Well, he had done that. He had helped others find hope and strength in Valhalla, and now the war was over.

Dan remembered when he had escaped from his cell back on Isadora. He remembered the faces he had run past. They hadn’t understood. They hadn’t known what they were looking at. They were blind, lost, prisoners without even knowing it. They had no idea what was beyond their walls, and the soulborgs had made sure that they had no desire to find out. That was where Dan needed to be. Those people needed to glimpse their horizons, even as Dan had glimpsed his. They needed to be fought for, struggled for, and ultimately achieved. Dan looked at Valhalla one last time. His work here was done. He belonged on Isadora now.

“I want to be sent back,” he said. “Send me back to Isadora.”

“I – Are you sure?” Vydar asked, taken aback. “You would have a piece of land here all your own. I could summon anyone you want.”

Dan shook his head. He knew now that Valhalla held no horizon for him. He must always be among the blind and the lost. There was no better place than Isadora. “I’m sure,” Dan said.

He felt a twinge of regret as he said the words, knowing that he could have a life of freedom with Heleer in the new Valhalla. But then he remembered Ana. She had sacrificed her life so that others could live theirs. He understood that now. Well, if she could do it, then so could he.

Einar, seeming to hover above the fallen demon without the use of his wings, raised his sword on high. “Men of the alliance!” he shouted. “Stand with me!”

Kyrie and samurai flocked to Einar. Dan struggled to do the same, but his arm was still pinned. And then he saw something which struck fear into his heart.

“Watch out!” He yelled.

He didn’t know if Einar heard him. The Valkyrie never turned. A moment later, a bolt of fire, looking like a lance thrown from heaven, streaked across the square and sailed cleanly through Einar’s chest. It exploded a moment later on a nearby building.

Einar looked surprised as he saw the gaping hole in his armor. And then he dropped from the air, hit the demon, and rolled off to land, face down, on the cracked stones of the street. A moment later, a smile of evil satisfaction on his face, a kyrie landed atop him, his foot planted squarely on Einar’s head, his axe wreathed in flame. Dan didn’t need to guess. Instinctively, he knew he was looking at Utgar.

Everyone ran. Utgar, gripping his axe in both hands, swung it in a wide arc. Energy blasted from it, lined with fire, and slammed into the kyrie and samurai, knocking them flat. Many of them did not get up.

“Your alliance is finished!” Utgar bellowed, his voice carrying far further than it should. Dan had no trouble believing the whole city could hear it. “Einar is dead! The war is won! Surrender now, or perish in my flames!”

There was a momentary silence. And then, Dan succeeded in pulling his glove from the wreckage of the cart. He could see countless warriors, soldiers of the whole alliance, stopped dead in the alleys across from him, staring at Utgar. All it would take was one word.

“CHARGE!” Dan bellowed.

As one, the forces of the alliance thundered down the alleys, aiming for the square where they all converged, and the lone Valkyrie who stood there. Kyrie took to the air, spears and swords held aloft, shouting their defiance. Knights charged atop their horses, lances leveled, swords drawn, helmets down. Samurai leapt over fallen buildings and around burning wreckage, swords out, eager to taste Utgar’s blood. Dan ran into the square, ready to blast Utgar into a thousand pieces.

Utgar laughed. Then he raised his great-axe, and let the tip of the shaft fall to the ground. Instantly, a blast of fire exploded from it in all directions. The flame seemed to pass through Utgar, and slammed into the charging knights. The horses fell as the fire struck their legs, and the knights were thrown to the ground, where a second blast of fire leveled them. The samurai were thrown down to the ground, or pinned against buildings as the fire burned them. The kyrie were blasted back by a shockwave moving upwards from Utgar, and, stunned, fell to the ground, where the flame consumed them.

Dan also was thrown back, but either by luck or some form of unseen fate, he landed behind a cart, and the fire from Utgar’s staff was blocked.

And then a different voice, this one very familiar to Dan, echoed over the city: “Warriors of Vydar! Now is the time! Lay aside all facades and join me! Defend what is yours, and drive the tyrant from our lands!”

And then another kyrie dropped from the sky, this one a blur of white and gray, and struck Utgar directly. The two toppled out of sight behind the demon. Dan knew that voice. Vydar had come. The alliance was defeated; now the battle had begun for the amulets.

Dan didn’t know who he hoped to win. Vydar would most certainly never let him see Heleer, but Utgar would hunt down and slay all those people Dan had helped, if what Dan had heard about him was true. Including Dan himself.

The two Valkyrie rose from the remains of the demon, climbing its smoking corpse as they sought higher ground. Fire flew from Utgar in every direction, but the very winds of Valhalla seemed to have come to Vydar’s aid, blasting aside the flame and knocking Utgar down over and over.  

Dan stood behind the cart. Should he interfere? Or should he let the two Valkyrie destroy each other? His mind was made up for him when he heard a scream behind him. Turning, he saw a group of five orcs in the street. They had swords and lances, and wore grins of diabolical glee as they used them to poke and prod at a kyrie trapped helplessly against the wall of a ruined building. The kyrie was Caela.

Dan rushed down the street, pulling his gun as he ran. He pulled up just long enough to aim and fire, dropping one orc, and then continued running. Seeing him, the orcs turned, letting Caela escape. That was what Dan had been waiting for. Caela ran towards him. He stopped running, waiting until she was well out of the way, and then raised one glove. The orcs were flung backwards, various burning debris flying with them. Stones and burning wood fell on them when Dan lowered his hand.

Dan quickly looked back at the two Valkyrie, and saw Vydar watching him, a very strange expression on his face. He paid dearly for his distraction.

Gripping his axe in both hands, Utgar swung it up, catching Vydar’s shoulder. The Valkyrie was flung into the air, and then fell on the ground with an audible crack.

Caela let out a cry beside Dan as Vydar landed, and turning, Dan saw why: another orc had come up behind them. There was no time. No chance to defend himself. The orc raised his hand, and red lines shot from it. Instantly, Dan felt his muscles tense. He toppled to the street, as immobile as the stones he lay on. He heard Caela fall next to him.

Dan could hear the orc above them, laughing softly, but being unable to turn his head, all he could see was the two Valkyrie battling.

Vydar was clearly losing, and Utgar was pressing his advantage, striking blow after blow which Vydar only barely managed to block with his great-sword. But Vydar wouldn’t give up. He glared at Utgar and gritted his teeth in determination, and swung over and over. Auras of magic crackled around both of them, sending sparks through the air. The stones beneath them cracked as they moved, lines of electricity racing along them. With every blow of Utgar’s, flame burst from his axe, pummeling Vydar. With every blow of Vydar, lightning leapt from his blade, and great gusts of wind seemed to slam into Utgar. It was clear who was winning, but neither seemed to be able to land the final blow.

“No!” Caela screamed.

Dan could hear the orc moving over him, gurgling somewhere deep in its throat. The sound was disgusting. Dan struggled to move, but his muscles cried out in pain. He felt the orc kneel next to him.

“You first,” it whispered, but it wasn’t talking to Dan. Its voice was directed away from him.

‘Not this time,’ Dan thought. And then, even though every muscle in his body screamed in agony, even though pain like fire exploded through his body, even though he could feel muscles tearing and snapping, he moved. He turned, saw the orc bent over Caela, raised both of his gloves, and not caring what happened to his arms, blasted the orc as hard as he could.

The orc sailed cleanly off of Caela. It slammed into a building. Then through the building. Then through the wall and into the next building. Then the building crumbled into stone, and followed the orc. Part of the street was ripped up, and flew towards the orc as well. Through the newly created gap where the building had stood, Dan saw a squad of deathwalkers – Khyta soulborgs – enter the street.

The energy from his gloves slammed into them as well, and they were blasted away, smashing into buildings, walls, and the ground. A few, trying to stand their ground, simply blew up on the spot, armor and circuits flying everywhere. A dragon flying overhead caught the edge of Dan’s blast with its foot. The next second, it was on the ground, writhing in pain as every bone in its body shattered.

Finally, his arms nothing but a mass of blood-soaked flesh, his whole body shutting down, Dan collapsed onto the ground, barely still conscious.

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw that both Valkyrie were distracted, neither one having expected what Dan had done. They were both staring at him, their weapons lowered.

Vydar took advantage first. He swung his massive sword straight into Utgar’s ribs, sending a bolt of lightning through the great Valkyrie. Utgar bellowed in pain, and tried to bring his axe down, but Vydar merely twitched his sword, still embedded in Utgar, and the Valkyrie fell sideways to the ground.

Vydar kicked Utgar off of his blade. Then, before the Valkyire could get up, before Dan could even draw breath, Vydar whipped his sword up, dropped it to point at Utgar, and then fell on it. The blade went straight through Utgar’s chest.

Utgar let out a gasp of pain. And then fire exploded from him, covering everything: Vydar, Dan, the whole city itself.

Dan was beyond pain. There was nothing he could feel which he hadn’t already. Unable to process any more, his mind shut off, and Dan at last fell into unending, peaceful blackness.

“NO!” Laelia screamed. “NO!”

She shook Gideon, but Dan knew he would never wake. He couldn’t wake. Gideon had left them. He looked at Gideon’s face, nothing but shock registering in his mind. Gideon was dead. His lifeless eyes stared in front of him, reflecting nothing but the destruction they looked at. The wounds in his chest still leaked blood, the flow now slowing. Gideon was dead. How could he be dead? How? Why?

“Gideon!” Laelia sobbed. “Gideon!” She screamed his name, her sorrow choking her voice. “Gideon!” The word descended into an uncontrolled cry of rage, sorrow, fear, and complete despair. Laelia fell to the road, sobs shaking her whole frame.

Dan knelt beside her, not knowing what to do. They stayed that way for nearly a minute, Laelia crying uncontrollably, gripping Gideon’s body with one arm. Eventually she lifted her head. “I couldn’t save you,” she whispered, watching Gideon. His face was turned away from her. “I couldn’t kill Caius, and now I couldn’t save you.” She looked at him in silence for a moment. “I can’t,” she whispered. “I can’t. I can’t. I can’t”

“You already did.” Dan’s words surprised him. He hadn’t meant to speak out loud.

Laelia turned to him, her expression lost in tears. “What do you mean?” she asked in a hard voice, anger and sorrow mixing in her tone.

“You already saved him,” Dan said, choosing his words carefully. “You can, Laelia, and you did. You saved him when you were fighting Caius. You saved that family just now from the deathreavers. Don’t tell yourself you can’t, Laelia.”

Laelia turned away. “Gideon’s dead,” she said to herself.

Dan lowered himself to one knee so that he was closer to her. “You’re strong, Laelia,” he said gently. “Stronger than I ever will be. I know it. The others knew it. Gideon knew it.” He glanced at her. “And I think you know it too, somewhere deep inside.”

Laelia looked at him.

Dan didn’t look away. “You can save anyone, Laelia,” he said. “The only person you need to convince… is yourself.”

Laelia watched him steadily for several seconds, her brown eyes showing absolutely nothing. Then she turned back to Gideon, laid her head on his torn chest, and closed her eyes.

She didn’t move. She didn’t respond when Dan called her name.

Nearby, Dan heard a thunderous roar, followed by screams and cries of pain. He looked down the street. The dragon was back, whipping around, its tail smashing into houses. It was cornered by several kyrie, but it was more than a match for them, swiping at them with massive claws and spitting flame at those who got too close.

“They need you, Laelia,” Dan said, turning back to her.

Laelia, however, showed no indication of going anywhere. So, reluctant as he was to leave her, Dan stood, and ran towards the dragon. He stopped a short distance away, drew his gun, aimed, and fired. Again, a bolt of energy struck the dragon in the head. This one went low however, and merely hit the beast’s lower jaw, angering it. The dragon turned one gleaming red eye on Dan, and then reared up.

“Fire line!” the kyrie yelled, scattering. “Fire line! Scatter!”

Dan leapt to the side just in time. The massive dragon, gold-brown scales gleaming in the red sunlight, green belly swollen with air, opened its great mouth and spewed a line of fire straight at Dan. The flames missed Dan, but their heat slammed into him, washing over him like a sea of molten metal.

Dan’s armor instantly felt white-hot. His whole body broke into a sweat, his exposed skin burning on contact with the ground. His face struck the street, and he cried out in pain as the stone seared his forehead, his nose, and his chin. He rolled to the side, trying desperately to escape the heat which was rapidly cooking him alive.

Something leapt over him. A figure dashed for the dragon, sword held aloft. Dan looked harder, trying to see through the tears of pain. It was Laelia.

Black hair streaming behind her, sword gleaming in the bloody light, her mouth locked open in a battlecry, she charged straight at the dragon, and swung with all of her might at one of its rear legs. The dragon let out a shriek of pain as her blade cut deep, and swatted at her with its front foot as it landed back on all fours. Laelia dodged the blow.

The kyrie pressed in. The dragon tried to take to the air, but Dan saw Laelia leap high, grab ahold of its wing-joint, and bring her sword down on the bone. The dragon fell back to earth, crying in agony, flame spurting from its mouth. It struggled to its feet, batting at the kyrie about it, and turned glaring eyes on Laelia. She rolled to the side just as the dragon unleashed a line of fire.

The fire missed. Laelia ran up and stabbed the dragon directly in the chest. She pulled her sword out, and stabbed again. Roaring with pain, the dragon reared up, blood pouring from its wounds, and sprayed fire everywhere. The fire shot out in a straight line, but the dragon shook its head from side to side, causing the line to sway back and forth.

Dan saw Laelia tackle a kyrie to the ground a second before he would have been burnt. She saved another similarly. And then, yelling her warcry, she stabbed her sword one last time into the dragon’s green belly. The dragon lurched. The fire stopped coming. It let out one shaken cry, and then began to topple. Laelia and the kyrie cheered as it fell.

However, the dragon was not yet dead. As the last glimmer of life left its eye, it turned in midair as it fell, and swiped one massive foot at Laelia. She wasn’t ready. The claws caught her, sank deep, and then tore as the dragon fell to the ground. Laelia fell beside it a moment later.

“NO!” Dan yelled. Despite the feeling that his skin was melting, despite the fact that he could barely stand through the pain, he struggled to his feet and staggered to where Laelia lay.

She was even worse off than Gideon had been. Her eyes found Dan’s as he fell beside her. Her face was locked into a grimace of agony, but her eyes were shining, not with pain, but with something else.

“Thank you,” she whispered to Dan. She looked at him for a moment longer, and Dan realized what was radiating from her eyes, from her face, from her very body. It was something he had never seen in her before, but he recognized it all the same. He had seen it in Jaseff a few short moments ago. He had seen it in Gideon. And as Laelia let out her breath one last time, he saw it in her too: victory. She had won. Laelia was home.

Dan watched Laelia’s body. She had learned that she could save anyone. Jaseff had learned that he could be brave. Even Caela had learned that there was always hope.

They had been like Dan, trapped, lost, unable to see what awaited them. He had shown them the light. Like Darren, he had broken into the cell surrounding them, and shown them the horizon they never knew existed. Dan looked down at Laelia’s body, now peaceful, and suddenly, in a flash of realization, he knew.

This was why he was summoned. This is what he was meant to do: to help other people see. To help them know. To show them the horizons they could have, if they but fought for them. And that… that was his horizon.

Dan looked a moment longer at Laelia, and then surged to his feet. No one deserved to be deprived of their horizon. No one.

The kyrie who had fought the dragon had been ambushed by a group of orcs. They were now running, scattering as the Gruts chased them, laughing with bloodthirst.

Dan turned on the spot, raised his gun, and fired. An orc dropped dead. Dan fired again. Another orc fell. Then another. And another. Finally realizing what was happening, the orcs turned towards Dan, but dropping his gun to the street, Dan raised a single glove, and pushed it outwards. Instantly, the street cracked as a wave of force blasted from Dan’s palm. The orcs were sent flying, and not one got up when they hit the street.

Another dragon, this one black, landed on a building above Dan. Dan turned to face it. Glaring at him with green eyes, the dragon opened its mouth and bellowed, the sound ripping at Dan’s hair and torn armor. He yelled right back. And then he raised his hand, and blasted the dragon apart. Quite literally.

“Hold!” Dan shouted to the retreating kyrie. “Hold! We can still win this! Don’t give up! Don’t let Utgar win! Make him fight for every inch!”

A few stopped running. Most did not. “Come on!” Dan yelled to those who had stopped. “We need to help Einar! We need to get to the keep!”

“That way!” One of the kyrie called, pointing down a narrow road. Dan charged down it, followed by the ten or so kyrie. The entire road was on fire, carts overturned in the middle of it, buildings burning on either side. Black smoke blasted up it, striking Dan and the kyrie with heat and ash. He covered his mouth and continued to run, charging through the dust and flame.

The street ended in a great open area, which Dan guessed had once been a market square. Carts and wooden booths were overturned, on fire or already charred to blackened ash. The flagstones of the street were split, cracks running along them like black fingers. And in the middle of the great square, standing taller than any of the buildings, smoke and ash billowing from it as if from the crater of a volcano, stood a massive demon.

No one was trying to stand up to the demon. Everyone was running away from it. However, the demon, tracing arcane figures in the air, seemed to be causing the stones of the square to rupture, penning people in, keeping them trapped. Flame burst from the demon at regular intervals, incinerating those closest to it.

The kyrie behind Dan faltered at the sight. But Dan, knowing what he must do, planted his feet, raised his already aching arms, and unleashed a torrent of energy at the demon.

The blast struck. The demon staggered backwards as Dan continued to pour wave after wave of energy onto it. A building shattered as the demon fell sideways into it. But then the demon threw out its arm, pushed off of the burning ground, and stood.

Through the pulsating air between them, Dan saw the demon turn burning eyes on him, its scaly skin still being torn by the energy from his gloves. It bellowed, red light spilling from its jaws. And then it stamped one foot.

Heat and dust exploded outwards from where it struck the stones, sending everyone flying backwards. The blast hit Dan a moment later, and he was slammed into the ground, his arms searing with pain. A burning cart, which had been much closer to the demon, landed next to him, pinning his left arm.

At first Dan struggled. His arm was pinned securely, and wouldn’t budge. He saw the demon take a step towards him, raising its hand like a pronouncement of fate. But then Dan saw something else.

Far behind the demon, sitting atop a cliff overlooking the city, was Einar’s keep. Dan could see smoke pouring from it, and as he watched, an entire tower crumbled to dust. But then, speeding from the highest parapet, wreathed in orange flame like a meteor, a single kyrie flew with dizzying speed towards the demon. The demon didn’t see the kyrie. It raised its foot, preparing to stomp the life from Dan. And then the kyrie arrived.

Swinging his sword as he rocketed by, the kyrie sliced right across the side of the demon’s head. The force of the blow was far greater than the weapon which had delivered it. The demon was knocked to the ground as if it were one of the carts it had just blasted. The kyrie circled back, orange lightning crackling around his whole body. His face burned with a furious light as he dropped the point of its sword, and then dropped, like a lightning bolt from above, straight onto the demon’s head.

The sword went deep. The demon let out an unearthly shriek. A great cheer went up from the square, and Dan was able to hear some of the words:

“Einar! Einar has come! We’re saved!”

Embers flew in Dan’s face as he raced along the first street. Smoke blinded him. Ash caused him to cough, which in turn caused him to stumble. After a moment, Dan stopped running and stood still. He had been following Gideon and the others, but now he couldn’t see them through the smoke. Neither could he hear them over the crackling of flame. He had lost them. He knew where Gideon was headed: towards the keep. He would meet them there.

He ran along the empty street in the direction he had been going, but soon came to a fork. He turned on the spot. It was silent in the narrow street, though the sounds of battle were all about him. It was as if he was separated from the battle, hidden away by the dust and smoke. He looked down the right fork. Nothing but smoke and steadily falling ash met his eyes. He looked down the left fork. Aside from a few flickering flames, it looked no different.

Something moved in the smoke at the end of the street. Dan could see a shadow running, first left, then right, staggering and stumbling. He pulled his gun out and aimed, and then waited for the figure to show itself. Was it friend or foe?

After a moment, the shadow became more defined, then burst from the smoke altogether. It was a kyrie.

“Caela!” Dan cried. She looked lost, looking wildly from side to side. He ran to her.

“Are you all right?” he asked. She didn’t look all right. Her face was blackened with smoke, and ash was caught in her hair. She coughed violently before replying.

“Yes,” she gasped. “I just got lost. I—”

A building exploded right next to them, belching flame and sending stones rocketing through the air. Dan hastily pulled Caela into the cover of the opposite building. They ducked behind a partially demolished wall as fragments of stone pelted them.

Caela continued to stare around herself, looking like a lost child who didn’t know where it was. She looked completely disoriented.

“What’s wrong?” Dan asked her.

She finally looked at him. “It’s just… I didn’t expect to get out of that cell.”

That’s what she was thinking about? At a time like this?

“The orcs were talking about killing us for sport… I guess I had given up.”

She flinched as another building exploded, this one further away. Dan guessed dragons were to blame.

“We’re here now,” he said, taking her by the shoulders. She looked at him. “No one’s giving up. Not me, not Einar, and not you. We can still win this, but we’ve got to keep fighting.”

Caela watched him for a moment. Then a small smile crept onto her face. “Inspiring stuff,” she said.

Dan felt foolish for a moment, realizing how the words had sounded, but Caela smiled again.

“No,” she said, “you’re right. We can still win this. Come on.” She took his hand and pulled him up, and together they dashed from their hiding place, and ran down the street. Caela was leading, and took the right hand fork. They ran through the smoke and falling ash, coughing and dodging flaming debris littering the road. They took another right turn, and then Caela came up short. Stopping beside her, Dan saw why.

Several soulborgs were in the alley, but they were soulborgs the like of which Dan had never seen. They resembled giant rats, nearly as long as Dan was tall. The emblem of Utgar was clear against their metal bodies. They turned glowing red eyes to Dan and Caela as they appeared, and then, chittering with an eerie, metallic sound, rushed them, their metal teeth bared.

Dan and Caela staggered back, tripping over loose bricks and chunks of stone. Dan kicked the first rat which came close enough. His foot connected, but the rat’s jaws closed about his leg, and he felt sharp pricks of pain, as if a dozen needles had entered his leg. Immediately, two more rats sprung at Dan.

He slammed one to the ground with his metal arm, and managed to keep the other rat away from his face. However, the impact knocked him down. Rolling, he slammed his free fist into the rat’s head, and heard a satisfying bending of metal. The rat staggered sideways and fell to the street.

However, more rats had now arrived. Another rat grabbed Dan by his already injured leg, and began tearing at it like a vicious dog. A second rat leapt at Dan’s head, and unable to reach him with its teeth as he kept it at bay, began tearing at his chest and neck with its metal claws. Dan rolled trying to unseat it, but another rat began clawing at his back. Dan’s armor was taking most of the damage, but he was quickly being overwhelmed.

There was a sharp clang, and the weight of the rat left Dan’s back. Another clang, and Dan’s leg was liberated. He pinned the final rat beneath him with his arm, raised himself up on his elbow, and then punched straight down, crushing its head instantly. The rat shivered, and then was still.

“Deathreavers,” Laelia said as Dan looked up. She offered him a hand. “Utgar’s attempt at winning through annoying the alliance.” Dan took her hand, and she pulled him up. He tested his leg. The bites stung a bit, but didn’t seem to impede his walking.

“Where’s Caela?” Dan asked, scanning the alley. Aside from a few remaining deathreavers, which were now running away, the narrow street was empty.

“I never saw her,” Laelia said. She pulled Dan forwards. “Come on: Utgar’s using the deathreavers to smell out anyone who can’t fight. We can’t let them get away.”

Wondering where Caela could have gone, Dan ran after Laelia. They moved into a wider street, choked with smoke, ash built up on the sides of the road. Several fires were burning in nearby houses.

“There!” Dan called, as he saw a metal tail whipping out of sight. The deathreavers had entered a home.

They ran to where the door had once been and charged inside. Black smoke filled the house, and it groaned and creaked with every step they took. There was a crash above them, and, finding the stairs, they ran up them to the second level. Here, Dan saw that three deathreavers had trapped a family of humans.

A boy – no older than fourteen, by Dan’s guess – was holding a sword, ready to slice the first deathreaver who came in range. Behind him, a woman was huddled, her arms circling two small girls. One couldn’t have been older than two.

Without hesitation, Laelia crashed into the nearest deathreaver, her sword swinging down on its exposed back. The deathreaver hissed as the sword rebounded off of its armor, and leapt at Laelia. She evidently had not been expecting it to retaliate so quickly, and went down as it clawed at her face.

Dan tackled the soulborg off of her, trying to get at its head with his metal gloves. The rat squirmed and wriggled as he tried to pin it to the ground, always somehow finding a way out of his grasp, and dodging his blows. It snapped at him over and over, trying to sink its teeth into his metal gloves, and whipping its heavy tail into his ribs. It was all Dan could do just to keep a hold of it.

The wall shattered, and a kyrie, red skin smeared with white ash, rolled onto the floor. Dan doubted he had arrived there on purpose, but he leapt to his feet, saw Laelia, and brandishing his axe, charged her. Laelia deflected the first blow, but then fell as the kyrie tackled her. They struggled on the ground, Laelia punching the kyrie’s ribs.

A second deathreaver leapt on Dan, but he shot his elbow out before it could get a good grip. The edge of his metal glove caught the rat in the stomach, and Dan felt something snap as the rat was flung backwards against the wall.

They might have won. They might also have lost. Dan would never know, because at that moment the building collapsed.

Without warning, the whole first floor seemed to disappear. The second floor, the one they were on, dropped like a rock. For a moment Dan felt weightless. Then he felt pain.

They landed as the floor splintered, slabs of wood breaking off into painful points. All were turned away by Dan’s armor, though they still left bruises. Laelia, who had less armor, was immediately struck in several places. The kyrie she was fighting, however, got the worst of it. A convenient floorboard jutted up, impaling him just as Laelia threw him off of her. The deathreavers seemed uninjured, but they quickly scattered, bursting from the rubble and running for the street.

“Everyone all right?” Dan called, getting to his feet. The boy and his family seemed all right, if shaken. Laelia had a cut going down one arm, but it didn’t seem deep. She got to her feet as well.

“Laelia!” Gideon was standing across the street, and had just spotted them.

Both Laelia and Dan yelled at him at the same time: “Look out!”

Gideon turned, but he was too late: the dragon behind him turned its head, saw him, and lashed out with one massive clawed foot. Gideon was slammed into the street, several long, horribly deep gashes on his chest.

Without hesitation, Dan drew his gun, took careful aim, and fired. A moment later, the bolt of energy found its mark, slamming into the dragon’s head just below its right eye. The dragon roared in pain, and staggered backwards. Wings snapped out from its sides, and, knocking several more buildings to the ground, it took to the air.

Laelia was already at Gideon’s side. Dan rushed to them.

Laelia was crying, the tears falling thick and fast, and it was easy to see why: Gideon’s chest was torn, three long gouges going all the way across it. Blood poured from them, splashing everything, and quickly forming a thick pool beneath Gideon.

Dan turned, scanning the road. Where was Jaseff when you needed him? No one was in sight.

“Gideon!” Laelia cried, choking on her own tears. “Gideon!”

Gideon seemed to be struggling for breath. He managed to raise his head and look at the gashes on his chest. He let his head fall again. “Ah,” he breathed. “Crap.”

Dan didn’t see how Gideon could joke about a thing like this. Apparently neither did Laelia. “You’ll be fine,” she said, her voice shaking. “You’ll be fine, Gideon. Just lie still. You’ll be fine.” She sounded like she was trying to convince herself, rather than Gideon.

“Hey,” Gideon said, putting a hand on hers, “I am fine.” He gave her a faint smile.

“Don’t do that,” Laelia said, an edge of fear in her voice. “Don’t do that. You taught me to never give up. Don’t you do it to me.”

“I taught you?” Gideon repeated. “And here I thought you were ignoring me.”

Laelia shook her head. “I would never ignore you,” she whispered.

Gideon sighed, coughing up some blood. “This isn’t giving up, Laelia,” he said. “You can’t keep getting back up. Sometimes you have to know when you’re beaten.”

“But you’re not,” Laelia said. “You’re never beaten. You can’t be.”

Gideon laughed, and then winced in pain. “Well,” he said, gritting his teeth, “a dragon disagrees.”

“No, no… I have to save you!” Laelia cried. “You can’t do this to me.”

Gideon doubled up in pain.

“No!” Laelia screamed. “I’ll save you, Gideon! I’ll save you.”

“You already did,” Gideon whispered. “You already did, Laelia. You… did fine.” He coughed once more, bit down, keeping in a cry of pain, and then let out his breath. His head rolled back against Laelia’s arm.

In a single second, Dan’s gloves unleashed countless pulses of energy. They all sped outwards, shaking the very air in the building with their power. They struck the bars of the cell. The iron rattled, vibrated, bent and twisted, and then finally exploded, shards of metal flying outwards. The bars were wrenched from the floors and ceilings, and the blast of energy continued on.

It struck Takuya next. He was picked up and slammed against the stone wall. He was held there for a moment, his mouth open and locked in a terrible scream. Dan could see his every bone shaking, almost jumping in place as the pulses struck them. The wall began to shudder, but it still held. Then Takuya exploded, just as the metal bars had done. Dan briefly looked away as red filled his vision.

Then the wall flew apart. The stones making it up separated, and those which remained split apart, the fragments flying away as daylight flooded the building. The flying stones caught a few surprised orcs who were nearby, punching gaping holes straight through them before finally falling to the dusty ground, their energy spent. Only when the hole in the wall was as wide as three of the cells put together, did Dan finally lower his gloves. All trace of Takuya had been obliterated.

Dan leapt out of his cell and turned to the others. “I’m sorry about that, if any of you were considering taking Takuya’s offer,” he said. “You’re welcome to stay if you want and wait for the vampires. But Jaseff is right: we can still win this. Einar still lives, and right now it’s our duty to do everything we can to help him stay that way.”

A rousing – if hoarse – cheer met Dan’s words. The blast from his gloves had damaged the cells next to his own as well, wrenching them apart at the corners, and Jaseff now squeezed free and ran to Dan, quickly healing his arms, which were bleeding freely.

“We’ll need to use the transporter,” Gideon said, coming up. “It’s the only way we’ll get to Liesic in time. I never took the time to learn how it worked, though,” he added. “There was always a kyrie on the outside who took care of that.”

Dan turned to the prisoners, many of whom were still trapped in their cells. “Does anyone know how to work the transporter?” he asked.

No one spoke. Then, still in Dan’s cell, Caela stood. “I do,” she said.

She had changed. Dan could see caution in her face now, like she was afraid to believe she was free. But she was free, both from the cell and from the dark place she had been moments ago, and Dan had done that. That knowledge gave him a curious feeling. He was making a difference.

His arms healed, Dan leapt over the fallen stones to the still-closed cells. Using his metal gloves, he punched the locks in, one by one, until all the cells were open.

Caela stepped forward, picking her way over the rubble. “Einar’s protocol in case of attack is to leave his transporter open to all friendly routes. As long as he doesn’t know Hyleran has been taken, we should be able to use it.”

“What about the orcs?” Gideon asked. “Dan might have scared them, but I doubt they’ll let us just walk to the transporter.”

“I’ll take care of them,” Jaseff said, a hint of anger in his voice. “No one drags a mage like a sack of potatoes.”

“But,” Gideon said, “if you could deal with them, why didn’t you do it before?”

Jaseff grinned. “I didn’t know they were going to use magic before. I didn’t have time to react. As long as everyone stays close to me, they won’t be able to touch you. Not with their magic, at least. While they’re trying to figure out what’s wrong, kill them.”

It sounded too simple to be true, but it worked. Once everyone from the cells was freed, totaling at least a hundred kyrie, samurai, and ninjas, plus Dan, Gideon, Laelia, Jaseff, Francois, and Caela, they all clustered around Jaseff.

He closed his eyes for a moment. At first Dan thought nothing was happening, but then a strange feeling began to steal over him. It felt like something was tugging at his mind, like something was pulling at what made him… him. It made Dan’s head spin. He shook it, trying to clear the feeling, but it persisted.

Jaseff opened his eyes. “Walk,” he said. “If you see an orc, wait for it to attack. The magic will pass right through you. Then kill it. Never break from the group.”

So they walked. As one giant group, they slowly moved down the street, directed by Caela. Almost immediately, two orcs stepped in front of them. Dan braced himself as they raised their palms and red lightning shot from them, but Jaseff had been right: the magic hit Dan, he felt a momentary tightness in his muscles, and then it left. Glancing behind him, he saw the magic travel straight through the group to the center, where Jaseff stood, his hands outstretched at his sides as if he were performing some bizarre ritual. The magic dissipated the moment it touched him. Dan suddenly remembered that Ana had done the same thing when they were fighting Caius.

Confused, the orcs tried again, but with the same result. Dan unholstered his pistol, calmly aimed, and shot one of them dead. The second orc fled. The process was repeated a few more times, but after that, the orcs knew to leave them alone. Soon, they arrived at the transporter.

The top of the structure was white with fallen ash, but it looked undamaged. Dan and the others crowded into it, barely all squeezing in. Caela remained outside for a moment, turning dials and pulling levers on the side of the machine, then she quickly ran through the doorway and pulled the heavy metal door shut.

“It will take a little under an hour for the transporter to get us there,” she whispered in the darkness. Dan remembered the last time he had used the transporter, how he had spent mere seconds in it, but had emerged two hours later. It would still be early morning when they arrived in Liesic.

The walls of the transporter began to rumble. Dan could hear something massive turning over their heads, slowly spinning around them, first above them, then to their side, then deep below, then back up the other wall… Faster and faster it spun, the rumbling and shaking becoming almost unbearable. There was a brief flash of bright light, a moment of pure silence, and then the rumbling returned, now slowing.

However, the shaking and groaning of the structure was now punctuated by other sounds: muted clangs and sharp reports as if something was striking the walls of the transporter. The transporter finally rumbled into silence, a nearby samurai pulled open the heavy door, and they all streamed out… into a full-scale battle.

The transporter of Liesic was situated in a giant dome, massive bricks, the color of golden sand, making up the arcing ceiling. Or at least, it had been. A chunk of the ceiling and a good portion of wall had been blasted apart, allowing deeply red sunlight to stream through, rendering the air full of motes of swirling dust, punctuated by thick sheets of falling ash. The sky overhead was thick with dark clouds, allowing only occasional glimpses of the blood-red sun.

Dragons flew by overhead, their massive frames blocking out the light completely for the seconds they were visible. Looking beyond the ruined wall, Dan could see Liesic spread out before him, smoke hanging over it like a smothering blanket. Flames burst from buildings at random, dust choked the street, hanging in swirling clouds, bound by some unseen magic, and all the while, ash fell steadily from the sky, dusting everything in unending white.

The walls of Liesic had clearly been breached. The sounds of battle smote Dan’s ears, and he had to cover them with his hands as he exited the transporter. Soldiers were yelling, orcs were screaming, dragons roaring, beasts bellowing, and through it all came the clash of metal on metal. The blaze of flame drowned out portions of the other sounds, as its roar grew and dimmed, though the fire itself was somewhere beyond Dan’s view, hidden by walls.  

Smoke flew in Dan’s face, making him cough, and filling his lungs with the taste of ash and burnt flesh. The metallic taste of blood hung in the air, stinging Dan’s nose and making his eyes water. Every breath he took was full of ash, causing him to cough and splutter as he staggered from the transporter.

The room they entered was a scene of chaos: Imperium of Einar were arrayed in a line in front of the transporter, valiantly keeping it from a horde of orcs which pressed against them. Dan quickly saw that these were the same orcs they had faced in Hyleran: red lightning shot from their palms, felling kyrie several at a time. Only a few strategically placed mages, some absorbing the orcs’ attacks as Jaseff had done, some removing the effects and helping their comrades back into combat, were keeping the orcs from trampling the Imperium into the dust.

Jaseff quickly joined the mages. Gideon and Laelia ran to assist the kyrie, along with the majority of the others. Dan, however, quickly ran to the side of the room, to the head of the line of kyrie, found his footing, and pushed his gloves outwards.

From the wall, all the orcs were lined up for him. The energy streamed from his gloves, knocking them aside like so much dead grass. He was careful to keep the energy far from the Imperium, instead directing it behind the line of attacking orcs, picking off the stragglers. The orcs in the front, seeing what Dan was doing, became panicked. They paid for their distraction with their lives, as the Imperium swiftly cut them down where they stood. In a matter of seconds, every last orc was dead.

“You!” An Imperium called, running over to Dan. “You serve Vydar?”

“No,” Dan said quickly. “Not after his betrayal. We’re here to help.”

The Imperium nodded. “I believe you,” he said, casting his eye over the orcs Dan had slain. “You’ll want to get rid of Vydar’s emblem then,” he added, nodding to Dan’s armor. Glancing down, Dan saw that his shoulder bore the sign of Vydar. “Here,” the Imperium said, offering Dan a strip of cloth with Einar’s symbol on it. “Use it to cover Vydar’s symbol. Otherwise we’ll cut you down on sight.”

“Thanks,” Dan said, tying the cloth around his shoulder so that Einar’s symbol showed clearly. “What happened? Does Utgar have the city?”

“Not yet,” the Imperium replied, as Gideon came running up. “He’s summoned demons. They blasted right through our walls like they weren’t even there. We lost a lot of good men that way.” He took a breath. “Orcs are running through the streets below, hunting for anyone who didn’t make it: civilians and wounded soldiers mainly. Those who can still fight retreated to the keep.” The Imperium pointed to a gleaming building a good distance away, sitting on the top of a cliff high above the city. “That’s where Utgar and his demons are now, trying to claim Einar’s wellspring. We were tasked with guarding the transporter, in case any foes came through it. So far, none have.”

“Disconnect it from Hyleran,” Gideon said. “Vampires are due there any minute.”

The Imperium turned and ordered some swift commands in Kyrien. Several Imperium ran to the transporter and began turning dials. “If you’re here to help,” he said, turning back to Dan and Gideon, “then make for the keep. A distraction behind the lines is what Einar needs.”

Dan nodded. “We’ll do it,” he said.

Gideon nodded his agreement. Then he turned to the hundred or so kyrie and humans who had come with them. “Any of you who want to help Einar defeat Utgar, follow me!”

Nearly all of them yelled warcries in reply – all of them mixed of course, coming from nearly twenty different cultures. Gideon ran for what had once been the door – now only half of the doorway was standing – and as one, the others followed him.

Dan couldn’t keep a grin from slipping onto his face. This was it. He was fighting for his horizon. He was fighting for the alliance’s horizon. Somehow, they felt one and the same.

He paused, allowing Jaseff to run up and quickly heal his arms, and then they both charged after Gideon. Heat and ash smote Dan in the face as he left the domed building. The cries of battle seemed to grow louder as he descended narrow steps, leading to the city below. They would have to fight their way up to the keep, through the orcs roaming the city.

“Ready?” Dan asked Jaseff as they paused before the apocalyptic scene which was the city.

Jaseff took a breath. “If not now, then I’ll never be,” he said.

Dan nodded, and then they both plunged into the burning city after Gideon and the others.

The door to the building opened, and a familiar figure walked in. It was Takuya Imai.

Dead silence greeted his appearance. A blast of smoke and heat entered through the door with Takuya, announcing his presence far more effectively than any spoken word. Everyone looked up, stared at him, and said nothing. Several orcs entered the building with Takuya, and then shut the door.

“Gideon,” Takuya called, spotting him in Dan’s cell and walking to the door. “Good. I was wondering if you would make it.”

Dan couldn’t help but notice that Takuya wasn’t bound, and that the orcs walked behind him with their weapons sheathed. He was no prisoner. Gideon seemed to notice this too.

“You traitorous rat!” he bellowed, flinging himself at Takuya. The bars stopped his progress.

Takuya laughed. “Guilty as charged,” he said lightly. “Once I knew that Utgar meant to take Hyleran, and that the city stood no chance, I had a choice to make: I could either close the gates and die in a fire, or join Utgar and profit from his victory. I chose the latter.”

“You honorless—”

“Yes, yes,” Takuya said, interrupting Francois. “I know. I have no honor. Pause for a moment, though, and note that I stand here before you, alive and free. Note also that you are the ones stuck in a cell. Who was smarter?”

Dan glared at Takuya. How could he have once thought the old samurai had a point?

“I’ve come to make you all an offer,” Takuya said. “Utgar himself gave me authority to offer this to you, so listen well. I’ll only say it once.

“Utgar is perfectly willing to send home any who wish it. If you join him now, you will receive a full pardon, and be sent back once all of the amulets are secured. If you wish to remain in Valhalla, Utgar will gladly provide you with land, and summon any family or loved ones you want to join you.”

There was a pause. How many times would Dan be offered his horizon?

“If you do not join Utgar,” Takuya continued, seeming to relish every word, “then every last one of you will be slain without mercy. You must choose now. If you refuse, and then decide that the offer sounds better than you originally thought, you will be too late.”

There was silence. Caela continued to cry quietly.

“What about her?” Dan asked, pointing to Caela.

“She had her chance,” Takuya said without sympathy. “She served Vydar, and then showed her true colors when he attacked the alliance. She is a traitor, and Utgar will deal with all traitors accordingly.”

“A traitor? What’s Vydar then?”

“Your answer, Dan,” Takuya said. “This offer expires when I leave.”

Silence.

“Let me add a little incentive,” Takuya said. “Utgar’s armies are vast, and his commanders stretched thin. If you refuse to join him, he may not be able to control his soldiers. He won’t be responsible for any misfortunes which may befall you at their hands.”

A few of the prisoners looked like they were considering Takuya’s offer. Others merely glared at him, their answer clear. Dan glared at Takuya as well, but not for the same reason. He had just realized something about the old samurai.

Takuya was content. No, that was the wrong word. He was complacent. He didn’t want anything else. He was happy to side with whoever happened to be winning, perfectly happy to stay put in Hyleran. He was the complete opposite of Dan, who could never be confined, and always needed something new. In fact, now that he thought of it, the person Takuya was most like… was actually Heleer.

It sounded ridiculous, but it was true. They were both complacent, both happy to stay put and pass up any opportunity which would change things. Takuya didn’t care what happened in the war as long as he got to stay in Hyleran and grow fat off of its food.

This realization only confused Dan further. He wanted Heleer. No, he needed Heleer. This was the last chance he would get to see her again. But it would mean forsaking his friends. It would mean abandoning them to Vydar. It would mean simply walking away, and leaving them to die.

Ana wouldn’t have done that. Dan had sworn he would be like Ana. But still, he needed Heleer.

Ana or Heleer? Ana or Heleer?

“No.” It was Jaseff who spoke. Everyone, including Dan, looked at him in surprise. “No,” Jaseff repeated, his voice quiet. “You’ve forgotten one thing, Takuya.”

“And what’s that?” Takuya asked, a false smile on his face.

“We can still win this,” Jaseff said. He hadn’t stood up, but spoke to Takuya from the floor of his cell. There was something in his voice, something which made Dan turn and look in his direction. It wasn’t confidence. It was almost as if he was realizing something, and speaking as he did so.

“The alliance isn’t gone, not yet.” The words came slowly, but with each sentence, Jaseff sounded more sure of himself, more sure that he was right. “As long as Einar still draws breath, as long as there is a single soldier who is loyal to the alliance and what it stands for, as long as there are those who still believe in a free Valhalla… there is still hope.” Dan saw him look up at Takuya.

“You had a choice, Takuya,” Jaseff said. “When you found out Utgar was coming, you had a choice.”

Takuya said nothing.

“You could do nothing. You could let Utgar win, and hope that he pardoned you. Or you could fight.”

“Fight for what?” Takuya laughed. “Some false sense of honor? A foolish hope that we would win? The battle was lost before it began, Jaseff.”

Jaseff shook his head. “No, it wasn’t,” he said quietly. “No battle is lost before it begins.”

“When, then?” Takuya asked, his voice mocking. “When your lifeless bodies lie on the ground?”

Jaseff stood. “Not even then. A battle isn’t lost when the odds are against you, or even with defeat. A battle is lost when only one thing happens.”

“And what’s that?” Takuya asked, a satisfied  smile on his face.

Jaseff turned and looked at Dan. “You lose,” he said, “when you have to choose between waiting for something to happen, and making it happen.” Dan recognized his own words.

Jaseff turned back to Takuya. “That’s why you should have fought, Takuya. That’s why your men did fight: because they knew that the war rested not with Utgar, or how many were in his army, but the choice that they made. Every fight rests on a single choice. And I’ve made mine.” Jaseff glared at Takuya.

“I’m tired of waiting. I want to defeat Utgar, and I will.”

There was a moment of silence as Takuya and Jaseff stared at each other. And then a samurai in Jaseff’s cell got to his feet. And then another at the far wall. And then another. Soon nearly everyone was standing, echoing Jaseff’s response. They shouted their anger to Takuya’s face, determination burning in their eyes.  

Dan was not among them. He had heard Jaseff’s words, and felt his longing for Heleer increase. Victory was still possible. He could still see Heleer, if he chose to. All he had to do was say yes.

But then he looked at Jaseff, and saw a determination there he had never seen before. In his face a light burned, and Dan realized Jaseff had changed. He was still afraid, he was still cowardly, but he had chosen to be brave.

And Dan had inspired him to make that choice. He had. He had given Jaseff hope that he could still be brave, even without Trela.

Dan glanced behind him, to where Caela still sat, head bowed, knees drawn up to her chest, no longer crying, but now silent. She had no hope. She was defeated, seeing no way out. He had been like that once, a very long time ago: trapped, not even knowing that he was a prisoner. There had been no hope for him. No hope for a better future. Until… Darren had come.

Darren had opened his eyes. Darren had shown Dan a glimpse of what awaited him, and what could be his, if he but fought for it. Dan looked at Caela with pity. No one deserved that. No one deserved to be devoid of hope, to be lost with no chance of a better future. It was there. The better future was just waiting for someone to claim it. Dan knew it was. Caela just couldn’t see it, just as he hadn’t been able to see it. Well, Darren had opened Dan’s eyes, but he wasn’t here. Dan was. And right now, Caela was him, and he was Darren. She needed to see her horizon. They all did. Only then could they choose to fight for it.

“And you?” Takuya said quietly, causing Dan to quickly look back at him. “You haven’t spoken. What is your choice, Dan?”

Dan looked into Takuya’s eyes. This would be his last chance to see Heleer. This would be his last chance to achieve his horizon. But if he had learned anything on this world, it was to live for others, not yourself. Caela needed him. His friends needed him. The whole alliance needed him. He wouldn’t leave them blinded, surrounded by walls of despair, unable to get out.

He looked Takuya full in the eyes, and then said one word: “No.”

Then he raised his gloves, and unleashed a blast of energy straight into Takuya’s smug face.

The cell wasn’t damp. It was bone dry. Simply being in contact with the hard stone floor made Dan feel thirsty. It was also unnaturally cold, especially given the heat outside.

His face pressed against the ground, Dan could smell a trace of dried blood. The burnt smell of charred wood and heated metal hung in the air. Dust and smoke seemed to be everywhere, and it was all Dan could do to keep from coughing, knowing he would never be able to get the air back into his lungs.

He heard someone moving next to him, and then soft hands touched his back. “Your muscles will relax faster this way,” a voice whispered, close to his ear. It was a woman’s voice. The hands began to rub his back. Instantly, his muscles began to relax, and Dan was able to cough out the dust he had inhaled, and take his first deep breath since entering Hyleran. His head – which he hadn’t even realized was beginning to fog over – quickly cleared.

“Thanks,” he managed to gasp. The hands moved to his legs, rubbing hard. Soon Dan was able to sit up and look around.

There were about twenty cells lining the wall, each holding between four and eight prisoners. Dan spotted Jaseff in the cell to his left, along with a knight and two kyrie of Einar. The remaining ninjas were spread out in different cells closer to the door, along with the rest of the kyrie. Laelia was in a cell at the far end. Dan’s cell held Gideon, one of the ten kyrie, and the woman who had spoken to him. She was also a kyrie, but she wore the garb of a civilian. Dan was unable to tell what general she belonged to.

“Anyone hurt?” Jaseff called from his cell. “I can heal you.”

“Not in here you can’t,” one of the samurai said. “Einar made sure these cells were drained of energy. You couldn’t so much as summon a spark in this place.”

“Thanks,” Dan said again, as the kyrie woman stopped rubbing his muscles back to life. “What’s your name?”

“Caela,” she replied.

“What happened?” Dan asked, getting to his feet and stretching his weakened muscles. He had to hold onto the cold metal bars for support.  

Caela moved on to the kyrie, rubbing his arms and wings. “An army of Utgar arrived two days ago. Drow used magic to destroy the turrets on the walls, and orcs came through the gate. There was no warning; we didn’t have a chance. I think they moved on, leaving only a few orcs, but I’m not sure. We’ve been here ever since.”

“Do you know what’s happened with the war?” Dan asked. “We know Vydar’s betrayed the alliance, but we don’t know what else has happened.”

“I know,” Caela said. She sounded defeated, but there was something else in her voice: a measure of sorrow which Dan wasn’t expecting. “Vydar attacked Ullar and Jandar simultaneously. He surprised both in their capital cities and secured the wellsprings almost instantly.”

Everyone in the dungeon was silent at this news.

“Utgar’s orcs joined Vydar’s forces,” Caela continued, sighing. “The battles were over before most of the alliance soldiers knew what had happened. Vydar stopped all communication, meaning all of the alliance forces stopped where they were, not knowing what to do next.” Finished rubbing the kyrie back to life, Caela moved on to Gideon. “Utgar started to pick them off. Vydar broke apart the larger armies with false commands, and then his soulborgs decimated each part one by one.” She was silent for a moment. “Right now all of Ekstrom and Nastralund is overrun with orcs and Vydar’s soulborgs. Vydar has both amulets.”

No one spoke. Dan was sure Vydar had plans in motion to intercept the amulets Utgar had collected, which meant he likely had Aquilla’s and Ullar’s. If what Caela said was true, he had Jandar’s amulet by now, and Otonashi would have given him Valkrill’s amulet herself. All that remained was Einar, and then Utgar.

“Utgar attacked Aquilla and overwhelmed her with marro,” Caela said. “He slew her himself, and he’s said that he killed Jandar himself, though no one knows if that’s true or not. We do know a small group of Jandar’s army fled to the Thaelink, but they’re being hunted down.

“Right now, every available soldier from both Utgar and Vydar is converging on Einar. I think Einar got word of what was about to happen a few hours before it did, because he was able to pull a lot of his soldiers out and reinforce his own cities, but he’s still losing. The last thing I heard was that Liesic itself was under attack.”

Dan remembered the map he had seen in Montfre. Liesic was Einar’s capital. “How – How do you know all that?” Dan asked, still grappling with everything he had heard.

“I used to serve Vydar,” Caela said, a note of sorrow in her voice.

“You knew his plan?”

“No,” Caela answered bitterly. “I was a diplomat though. I knew where all the troops were. At least, until Hyleran was attacked.”

“So that’s it then,” Gideon said, sitting up as Caela finished rubbing his legs. “Einar’s the only one left. He might hold out for a bit, but…”

“He can’t keep fighting forever,” Jaseff finished for him. “Vydar and Utgar have basically won.”

“Not yet,” Dan said. Everyone looked at him. “Vydar still needs the amulets Utgar has. Only one can win the war, not two.”

“That doesn’t help us right now, though,” Gideon said. “They’ll turn on each other eventually, but I’m sure they’ll wait until they’ve dealt with Einar. It would be foolish to attack until he’s out of the picture.”

Dan agreed.

“What about Jandar’s army?” Laelia asked from her far cell. “They’ll come back and free us.”

“Cyprien was heading an army of vampires in Kinsland,” Caela called back. “I’ve heard the orcs talking: he moved west and decimated them. Jandar’s army is lost.”

Silence met her words.

Dan tried to think of a way out. Obviously he could break out of the cell with his gloves, but then what? Assuming the transporter worked, would they go to Liesic and die with the last of the alliance? Did they strike out on their own, perhaps try to steal an amulet while Vydar and Utgar were distracted?

There were options, certainly, but they all ended the same way: they were too few. Even if they somehow managed to steal an amulet, they wouldn’t last. The power to summon was in the wellsprings, not the amulets. They would be a tiny force, surrounded by a hostile Valhalla. They would eventually be tracked down and destroyed.

Whichever way Dan looked at it, there was no way out. Not permanently. He sat down against the wall. There had to be something they could do. There had to be a way out of this mess. There had to be.

“I’m sorry,” Caela said gently, sitting next to Dan. “The best option we have right now is just to stay put. Whoever wins might simply send you home. There’s no point in executing thousands of prisoners once the war is over.”

“You are home, though,” Dan said glumly to her. “You’re a kyrie. What will they do to you?”

Caela was silent.

This was it. This was the end. Dan would get them out of here, and they would do their best to help Einar. But from there, he could see no way for them to win. Maybe Caela was right. Maybe their best chance to come out of this alive was to not anger Vydar or Utgar further by trying to escape. Maybe they would be sent home.

Not Dan though. That’s what Terav had said, when he and his kyrie attacked them. “Vydar won’t honor his half of the bargain.” The message couldn’t be clearer: Dan would never see Heleer again.

So this was how Dan’s dream would die. Further from Heleer than he had ever been, locked in a searing, dry cell, any hope of attaining his horizon taken from him. He had tried to reach his horizon, and he had failed.

There was a sniff next to him. Glancing towards the sound, Dan saw the kyrie, Caela. She was crying. She had her head in her hands, and was clearly doing her best to muffle the sound, but it wasn’t very effective. Dan could see her shoulders shaking in the darkness of the cell, shivering with each sob.

For a very brief moment, Dan forgot he was on Valhalla. He forgot he was in a cell, surrounded by people he had never dreamed of meeting before. For one brief moment, he was back on Isadora, back in his own bed, watching a young Heleer crying because of a nightmare.

And then the moment faded, and Dan remembered where he was. He remembered that Caela wasn’t crying because of a nightmare, but because of what she knew awaited her. There was no chance for her to be sent through the wellsprings when the war ended. She was a kyrie, and her home was here. And as an enemy of Vydar, there was very little good which could happen to her. She was crying because she had lost everything. Her land, her freedom, and very likely her life.

In that moment, the darkness of the cell closed in on Dan, and he truly felt for the first time that this was the end. He could almost feel his horizon slipping away from him. He would never be able to reach it now.

And then, in that blackest of moments, things got even worse.

“What’s the plan here?” Dan asked.

“We’ve got to get in there,” Gideon said, thinking. “All we have is outdated information. Things are moving too fast. We have to know where things stand.”

Dan agreed. The only obvious choice was to somehow get into Hyleran. The difficulty was that Hyleran was now in enemy hands.

The kyrie had flown for the rest of the night, and they had reached Hyleran just before dawn. The gate to the city was shut, and judging by the plumes of smoke rising from behind the walls, several houses had been burned down, and were still smoldering. There had obviously been a battle for the city, and if the empty walls were any indication, the alliance had lost. Einar would never leave the walls empty of guards.

Dan and his kyrie had flown high over the city while it was still dark, and he had used his goggles to discern how many were in the city. There had been many heat signatures, but most had been huddled together in random buildings. Only a few were patrolling the streets. Everyone agreed that whoever had captured Hyleran must have taken the majority of the citizens prisoner. Luckily for Dan and the others, it seemed that whatever force had taken the city had also moved on, leaving only thirty or so guards. They were still outnumbered of course, but Dan felt confident that his gloves could win such a battle.

“We don’t know who the guards are,” Gideon said, “so that’s a risk. If they’re mages, we’re dead.”

“Mages would be needed at the front though,” Laelia reasoned. “The guards are most likely just common soldiers, like drow or orcs.”

“I hope so,” Gideon said.

Jaseff cleared his throat. “Why don’t we just wait?” he asked. Everyone looked at him. He looked uncomfortable, but kept going. “Jandar’s army will return here eventually. That’s what they said. Why can’t we just wait for them?”

In response, Gideon pointed to the walls of Hyleran. The sun was peeking over the horizon now, and by its red light, it was easy to see the soulborg guns sitting atop the wall. The last time Dan had seen them, they had been idle, gleaming in the sunlight. Now they were damaged, some missing completely. But on every gun, he could make out a miniature robota, slowly but surely repairing circuits and coils.

“We don’t have time,” Gideon said. “Utgar’s armies carry those robots with them. The army destroys the soulborg defenses of whatever they attack, then use those robots to repair them. If we attack when those guns are operational, we won’t last ten seconds. They automatically lock onto anything they see. We’ve got to act now. Dan thinks he can handle thirty enemies, and after seeing what he’s done, I’m inclined to believe him. All we’ve got to do is make sure he has a clear shot.”

“So what do we do?” Jaseff asked. “Just walk in through the main gate?”

Gideon glanced at Dan. “Might as well,” he said. “There are no guards on the walls to see us coming. Either they’re extremely confident in their victory, or just incredibly stupid. Either way, it’s good for us.”

Dan nodded. The gate was no barrier to his gloves.

They quickly agreed on a plan. Dan would knock down the gate, they would enter Hyleran, and track down all of the guards. Gideon, Laelia, Jaseff, and the remaining knights and ninjas would stay close to Dan, protecting him from attack.

It was a good plan if all they faced were enemies with swords. But if they went up against magic, or even arrows, Dan would be defenseless. That was why the ten kyrie would circle overhead, watching for any mages or archers. If they saw any, they would drop down and dispatch them before they could fire a single shot.

Convinced that the plan was as good as they could do on such short notice, they moved out, leaving the cover of the trees and running across the clearing to the main gate. The walls were empty; there was no one to see them coming. The kyrie took to the air. Once they reached the main gate, Dan placed his palm on it, closed his eyes against the pain he knew would come, and pushed.

Several pulses of energy ran the length of the gate. Dan pushed harder. Splinters of wood exploded from the frame. Then the whole gate burst from the wall, and flew backwards, into the city. It landed not far away, teetered for a moment on its edge, and then fell flat, revealing several surprised orcs.

That was a relief. There were no orc casters.

The orcs simply stared at them in shock as Dan raised his pistol, took careful aim, and fired. One orc dropped dead. The others, realizing what was going on, scrambled for the cover of the nearest house. Dan holstered his pistol.

“Stay close to the wall,” Gideon said. “We don’t want to get surrounded. They’ll come to us at first.”

They moved into Hyleran, Dan leading, everyone else following in a tight pack. Overhead, Dan saw the kyrie begin to dive into the city. There must be archers among the orcs. Dan wondered why they hadn’t been on the walls. He had heard the orcs were not the brightest, but were they that stupid? He supposed they didn’t think they needed lookouts, especially if they knew about the demon. Doubtless, they assumed that any force to the south had long since been obliterated. Dan moved to the left, staying close to the wall as Gideon had said. The orcs would charge him soon; it was their only tactic.

Dan was beginning to think retaking Hyleran would be easy. He would blast away any orc he saw, the kyrie would take care of the rest, they would free the prisoners, and then, if the transporter was still working, they could go anywhere in Valhalla. They might be able to warn Jandar or Einar before it was too late.

That fantasy faded as the first orc stepped into view. Dan immediately knew something was different: this orc wasn’t like the others he had seen. The only weapon he carried was a short axe. He had minimal armor. And he was wearing a grin which told Dan they were missing something.

Dan raised his glove just as the orc raised his hand. Before Dan could move another muscle, lines of red energy burst from the orc’s palm, streaking down the road as fast as lightning. They struck Dan and everyone behind him, and immediately his whole body seized up. Every muscle was taut. Unable to move, Dan lost his balance, and fell ungracefully to the road, his hand still outstretched. Judging from the thuds behind him, many of the others had fallen as well.

Dan’s chest was completely locked up. He could only manage the smallest of breaths. He could feel the muscles in his arms and legs burning as they refused to loosen. He forced himself to stay calm. If he panicked, he would need more oxygen. And in his rigid state, that was something his lungs could not supply.

At least his eyes could still move. He saw two more orcs join the first, armed similarly.

“What do we do?” one of them asked the other.

“Put them with the rest,” another said. “Vydar said to keep all prisoners alive.”

Vydar said. So Vydar was giving commands here, not Utgar. That was interesting.

More orcs appeared and began picking up Dan’s companions. “Careful,” an orc grunted as he lifted Jaseff. “Mage.”

A pair of rough hands gripped Dan around the waist and began pulling him down the road. As he moved, his muscles began to relax. It was painful, like every muscle in his body was cramping at once, but at least they weren’t rigid any longer. Dan could move, except now his muscles felt completely drained, like he had been using them all day. He struggled to raise his glove at the nearest orc.

Unfortunately, the orc saw him first. More red energy struck Dan, and his muscles seized up again.

“It’s wearing off,” the orc said. The other orcs similarly sent red energy through those they were carrying.

Dan didn’t understand. The orcs weren’t supposed to have mages. Then again, Utgar wasn’t supposed to have giant demons, or dragons capable of summoning shadow-beasts, either. He supposed there had been more changes than they knew of.

The orcs dragged them down the street, turned a corner, went down another street, and finally pulled open the door to a low building. Dan quickly discerned it was a prison. It was dark and cold inside, and once the orcs pulled him through the door, he could make out cells lining the walls, consisting of nothing but three walls of metal bars, set against the hard stone back wall of the building. The orcs dragged them past several cells, allowing Dan to see that they were all occupied, mostly with kyrie and samurai. Finally the orc hauling Dan stopped, pulled open the door to one cell, and shoved Dan inside.

Unable to move, Dan hit the floor hard. He heard someone else land next to him. Judging by the grunt of pain, it was Gideon. Then someone else was flung into the cell. Was it one of their kyrie? The cell door slammed shut. Dan heard others being thrown into different cells. More slamming doors. Tramping feet. The door to the building clanged shut, and silence and darkness took them.

Gideon let them bury Ana. Jandar’s army made short work of the orcs, and the bulk of the knights and soulborgs chased after them, soon disappearing to the south. The dragons had fled the instant the demon had died.

A few kyrie of Jandar’s army stayed behind, and together, they laid Ana to rest just within the forest. No one did more work than Dan, who scraped out the hole with his gloves, the metal digging through the dirt without pause. Ana had been the only one who hadn’t turned her back on him. She had clung to the hope that he wouldn’t betray them. And in the end, she had been the first – and possibly the only – one to forgive him. Dan owed her a proper burial.

Once the earth had closed back over Ana, and the dirt had been pressed down into a firm mound, Dan stood back, and found Laelia standing nearby. She hadn’t helped, but Dan had a feeling that she had been watching the whole time. Looking at her now, he saw that her face held confusion. Confusion and something else… something Dan had never seen on Laelia’s face before: regret.

“I was wrong,” she said, perhaps to herself.

“About what?” Dan asked.

Laelia glanced at him, then back at Ana’s grave. “About her,” she said. “I knew she was Mordril once, and I assumed she could never change. But… I was wrong. What Ana did was selfless.” She shook her head. “No Mordril would ever do that.”

Selfless. Ana had lived for others, that much was certain. She had practiced what she had yelled at Dan on the pine hills. It seemed years ago now.

‘She was right,’ Dan thought. ‘She was right about everything, and I was wrong.’ He remembered what Ana had said before she cast her shield: “It’s a cost I’m willing to pay.” Hadn’t he told himself the exact opposite in Valkrill’s tunnels? Confronted with a choice between Heleer and his newfound friends, hadn’t he said that the cost of having Heleer was too great? That he could never live with it?

Looking down at Ana’s grave, Dan was suddenly sickened by his own actions. He couldn’t live with it? And he had thought that his decision had been a selfless one. Instead, it had been the most selfish decision of his life: he hadn’t freed his friends because they would die; no, he had freed them because he couldn’t live with their deaths on his conscience. Dan looked away, unable to face Ana’s grave any longer. What twisted form of morality did he possess?

His eyes now stinging with shame, Dan saw Gideon nearby, his arm around Laelia. He saw the knights and ninjas talking together in low voices. He saw the kyrie, about ten in all, nearby in a group. They were clearly exhausted from the battle, and several of them were wounded. But they were alive. Alive because of Ana. Without her, Dan had no trouble in believing that the demon would have destroyed them all. Without her, none of them would be here.

Dan looked past the trees, to the battlefield. Many of Jandar’s warriors lay there, dead where the shadow-beasts had left them. More kyrie were busy, collecting the bodies and burying them. Among the dead were several burned out husks of soulborgs.

Looking at the soulborgs, Dan remembered what NT9 had told him, back in Vydar’s Citadel, right after he had been summoned: “In time, your use will become apparent. Suffice it to say that all those who Vydar has summoned have proven their worth in some way. You will be no different.”

No one knew why Dan had been summoned, not even Vydar. But if what NT9 had said was true, then there was a reason. He had some part to play in this war, something to contribute to Valhalla. There was some change which, without him, would never happen.

“If I’m supposed to have an effect on this war,” Dan told himself, watching the battlefield, “on this land and its people… I want it to be that.” He glanced back at Ana’s grave. “I want to be like Ana. I want to save lives.

“She was right. A life lived for oneself… is no life at all.”

As the sun neared the western horizon, they helped the kyrie find and bury the soldiers of Jandar who had died. The swath of death left by the shadow-beasts had been wide before Ana had cast her shield, and the orcs had left more dead, so they had to cover a lot of ground, looking for anyone who had been trapped beneath a fallen Ghidan, or hidden under a collapsed tent.

It was Dan who spotted what seemed like the hundredth cart, looked under it, and found someone he knew. Francois had stuck close to Dan (Dan assumed because he still didn’t trust him completely), and came up beside him, staring at the figure curled up on the ground.

“Jaseff!” Francois bellowed.

Jaseff looked up, blinking at the both of them.

“What are you doing here?” Dan asked.

“Hiding,” Jaseff said miserably. “I ducked under here the moment the dragons appeared.” Dan helped him up. “Where did you all come from?” he asked. “Where did that shield come from?”

“That was Ana,” Dan said, an amount of disgust for Jaseff finding its way into his voice. “That was Ana standing up to Utgar, and paying the price.”  

“You mean… she’s…?”

Dan nodded.

“You’re a coward, Jaseff,” Francois said, his anger evident. “Hiding under a cart during the battle? Do you have no honor?”

“No,” Jaseff said. He sounded defeated.

Francois glared at him, then grabbed him by the arm and marched him away from the cart. “Gideon will want to see you,” he said. Walking behind them, Dan had the distinct impression that Jaseff had been dreading this moment.

Gideon was displeased, but in the end there was very little he could do to Jaseff aside from remind him how cowardly his actions had been. He eventually decided to let him stay with them. He said it seemed only fair since they were letting a traitor stay as well.

Dan had wondered when he would crop up. Jaseff looked at him in shock, but as Gideon recounted what he had done, Dan saw Jaseff’s surprise subside. When Gideon related what Dan had told him about Heleer, Jaseff nodded in understanding. “I would have done nothing different,” he said.

“But… But he’s a traitor!” Francois protested.

“He made the right choice in the end,” Jaseff said wearily. “That’s all that matters in my book.”

As the sun began to set, and the kyrie began to fill in the mass grave they had dug, Gideon and the others met up with one of the captains: a tall kyrie with brown hair which fell down her back, and blue eyes which seemed to shine with a light of their own in the twilight.

“What news do you have?” Gideon asked her. “We’ve heard nothing except that Vydar’s betrayed the alliance, and that he has two amulets.”

“He has two now?” the captain repeated.  “Eir save us; that must mean Ullar has fallen.”

“What happened?” Gideon asked. “How did it start?”

“It started before you left,” the kyrie said. “When Aquilla went silent, we assumed it was the marro blocking communications again, but it was much worse. Utgar had attacked her at her own wellspring. She wasn’t ready; the kyrie who made it back to us say that her forces fell under a surprise marro attack – apparently the beasts had been multiplying in the swamp, preparing for this.

“Once you left, Utgar’s fleet sailed up from the Volcarren. Ullar mobilized his forces to the coast, and then Vydar, who had been moving his army steadily deeper into Ekstrom the whole time, claiming they were hunting the orcs, turned and attacked Ullar in the back. They took several of his cities before anyone knew what was happening. The last I heard, Ullar’s forces were wedged between Vydar and Utgar, still fighting. But if Ullar has fallen, then…”

“What about Jandar?” Gideon asked. “And Einar?”

“Vydar has even more of his army in Nastralund; I can only assume they’ve attacked as well. I haven’t heard anything else. Einar was smart, and kept his borders closed to all. He’ll be the last if Vydar means to destroy the alliance.

“We don’t have enough information,” she sighed. “We have no idea where anyone else’s armies are. We ran into this force by pure accident.”

“What about Hyleran?” Gideon asked tensely. “We can’t lose it.”

“We haven’t heard anything from it for a few days now,” the kyrie said. “We’re in the dark. That’s why some of us elected to go back to Hyleran, and find out what’s happened. If it has fallen, then Jandar’s forces need to know.”

Gideon nodded. “Take us with you,” he said. “We need to get back to Hyleran as well.”

The kyrie were apparently much stronger than they looked, because they were able to pick Dan and the others up, and fly them northwards, towards Hyleran. What would have taken hours of trekking through the forest below took mere minutes, as the kyrie skimmed the tops of the trees. The night fell as they flew, but Dan wasn’t the least bit tired. Very soon, they would know the whole story. The answers would be at Hyleran. From there… Dan didn’t know.

The kyrie had to rest their wings halfway to Hyleran. They circled down, slipping smoothly between the trees until they landed on the dark ground below. Here they crouched down on the ground, folded their wings over their heads, and went to sleep. Dan thought they looked like giant, misshapen birds, devoid of a nest.

He saw something out of the corner of his eye as he watched the kyrie sleep: something or someone was running through the forest, away from them. Dan quickly switched on his night vision. It was Jaseff. Seriously? Dan ran after him.

Jaseff was no match for Dan’s speed, even with his armor. Dan caught up to him quickly and grabbed his arm, pulling him to a stop. “What are you doing?” he hissed, though he knew the answer perfectly well: he was running away again. He couldn’t face the war.

“It’s no use,” Jaseff said, trying ineffectually to pull away from Dan. “Let me go. I won’t be any help to anyone when I’m hiding behind a rock. I’m not a soldier, Dan. I’m not like Trela.” He stopped struggling as he said her name.

“You can be,” Dan said, unable to keep a trace of disgust from his voice.

Jaseff sagged against a tree trunk. “Not without her,” he said. “With her I could tell myself I was brave. I could pretend. But without her, I know it’s not true.” He looked up at Dan. “It’s no use.”

“Bravery is a choice, Jaseff,” Dan said, loosening his grip slightly.

Jaseff sighed resignedly, and then smiled faintly at Dan. “A choice? Certainly it’s a choice. That’s not the problem. The problem comes with sticking to what you choose. That’s what I can’t do.”

“Of course you can,” Dan said, a trace of disgust still unwilling to leave him. Hadn’t he chosen to be patient for Heleer? Hadn’t he stuck with that choice for six years?

“Do you know why I loved Trela?” Jaseff suddenly asked.

Dan couldn’t see how this was relevant, but Jaseff seemed to be broken, speaking in a defeated tone.

“I loved her because she represented what I wanted to become,” Jaseff said. His voice sounded harder, like he was determined to finish speaking. “She was the daughter of a priestess, training under the wisest masters of the arcane. I was the son of farmers, thrown out on the streets because they couldn’t afford to feed another mouth. I joined a group of other young beggars and thieves. When we were young, I would always tempt her to join us – me and the other street-boys I had joined. We would steal food and the like, mostly just to survive, but she never gave in and joined us. She was above that.

“Then one day she changed her mind. She decided one adventure wouldn’t hurt. She went with us, and we waylaid a cart on the road to the city. The cart was full of food, there was only one farmer driving it… I guess some of the boys got a little excited. I didn’t see what happened, but I saw the farmer on the ground, unconscious, his head bleeding from a cut.

“We ran. Trela too. We ran back to the city. We were so stupid. We figured that since the guards hadn’t seen anything, we were free. But they knew it was us. The farmer had seen us. He hadn’t seen Trela, but he had seen me and several others.

“The next day the guards rounded up the ones they knew about. We were fined for the stolen food, the damage to the cart, and the injuries to the farmer. None of us had any money of course, so the guards went to our families. They barely had enough money to live off of. They tried to pay the fine with food and livestock. The guards wouldn’t accept it.

“Trela had lied. She hadn’t told her parents where she had been. She was there though. She watched as the guards rounded us all up, and prepared to take our families to the prisons. Then she did something I’ll never forget: she took the blame.

“Not just for what she had done, but for all of us. She said she would pay the price. Her family was rich, being well-known mages, and were plenty able to pay the fine. They wanted to do so, too, once they knew that Trela had taken part in it.

“She knew she wouldn’t get off that easy, and she was right. The masters of the arcane were very strict. They couldn’t afford to teach magic to a student who lied or stole, no matter if she had come forward in the end. Eventually, they agreed to keep teaching her, but at a price: she would be marked as a liar and a thief for the rest of her life, both as a reminder of what she had done, and a warning to any who met her.

“They branded her, right on the side of her neck. Trela never tried to hide it. She had made a mistake once, and she had paid the price. I didn’t see it that way though. All I saw was that she had stepped forward, knowing full well that she could be expelled. Her life as a mage would be over. That took bravery. That took courage. I told myself then that I wanted to be like that. I stayed close to her, trying to be like her.

Jaseff paused for a moment. “I think she had been hoping she would rub off on me. She convinced her masters to train me as a mage. She tried to teach me all she could. She tried to get me to stand up for myself.  

“It never worked though.” Jaseff sighed. “Whenever we were ambushed by drow, or the city was attacked, I was always the first to run. The first to hide. I tried to be like Trela. I did. But it never happened. She was brave, and I… never was.”

Jaseff finished with a sigh, and let himself slide down the tree trunk, until he was sitting on the ground. Looking at him, Dan saw nothing but misery incarnate.

He knelt down in front of Jaseff. “You’re right,” he said.

Jaseff looked up, his eyes showing nothing.

“You weren’t brave when she was here,” Dan said. “You used her as a shield, and hid behind her whenever there was a fight. She would never have made you braver.”

“What’s your point, Dan?” Jaseff asked dully.

“No one can make you stand up and fight, Jaseff,” Dan said earnestly. “No one but you yourself. Trela could never make you brave. That’s something only you can do.” Dan stood. “And it’s something I believe you can do,” he added. “Run away if you want. I won’t stop you. But if you really want to be brave like Trela, then you have to stop waiting for it to happen. You have to make it happen. And you’ll never do that sitting here.”

Dan wasn’t sure what made him say those things. Somehow, he saw himself in Jaseff. Before all this, before Ana’s words, before Trela’s death, and before Vydar’s betrayal, Dan had been like Jaseff. He had been waiting for the war to end, trying to find a way to cheat Vydar into letting him see Heleer again. This war was bigger than him. It was bigger than Heleer even. It mattered. And if Dan wanted it to end, if he wanted to see Heleer and finally reach his horizon, then he would have to do his part to end it, not try and get around it by blackmail. And Jaseff was no different. Neither one of them could afford to wait for what they wanted any longer.

Dan couldn’t tell if Jaseff believed him or not. His face remained blank, his eyes dull. But he got up, and slowly walked back to where the kyrie slept.

Soon, they would have answers. And once they did, they could make a plan to end the war on their own terms.