Dawn was approaching, so the Stone Castle was slowly waking up. This gorgeous stronghold had been the Mason's original creation once — the city grew around it, eventually becoming what it was today. Or had been, at least.

The castle was a small city in and of itself. It couldn't compare to Bastion, of course, but countless people could find shelter behind its walls, still. The inner stronghold of the besieged city had its own walls, its own moat, its own layered defenses, all isolated from the greater urban sprawl beyond — as long as the drawbridge was raised, getting inside was as difficult as breaching the city wall.

More so, even, since building a highly defensible fortress was far easier than ensuring the safety of a thriving metropolis. It used to be that the Stone Castle was sparsely populated, with only the royal family, their servants, and their closest retainer inhabiting its courtyards and walls. Now, however, the situation had changed.

As Effie descended from the wall and made her way to the drawbridge, she had to carefully wade through a mass of people. The castle was overcrowded, with each courtyard and corridor becoming a makeshift shelter — the citizens were in the throes of nightmares, sleeping restlessly with nothing but flimsy straw mats between them and the ground.

They were mostly those who were too old to fight, too young to be of use, or already maimed and unable to wield a weapon. Most able-bodied people had already been conscripted to help defend the city, so there were few of them here, behind the last line of defense.

Some of these people slept, but most were awake, pressing themselves against the walls or hugging each other, covered with threadbare blankets and staring into the distance tiredly. The mass of them was like a furnace, generating almost palpable waves of heat — when Effie walked by, something ignited in their eyes, and for a short while, they seemed like proper humans again.

This was a recent arrangement. Before, the remains of the civilian population stayed in the city, scattered across its safer areas. It was better to keep them apart, since that made it harder for disease to spread. But now that the Mason was about to fall, there were no safe areas anymore. So, everyone... everyone who was still alive... was brought to the inner stronghold over the last few nights.

Despite how crowded the castle was, seeing it like that was sobering. Before, it would have never been able to accommodate the entire population of the city — but the population had shrunk so much that now, it was enough. So many people had died. More people had died than survived, really.

That made Effie question if the accomplishment of holding the city for all this time was even worth a damn.

‘Well, there were certainly benefits.'

All of them, those who had challenged the Nightmare, were far more powerful than they were at the start. How could they not be?

Close to two years of constant battles, almost always against an overwhelmingly powerful foe, had tempered them. They had already been the best and most seasoned warriors of humanity, and with the accumulating weight of experience, their skill and tenacity only grew.

Their skill was improving by leaps and bounds. Their soul arsenals were expanding. They were learning to wield their Aspects better and discovering new facets of their power... there were other, less conspicuous improvements, as well.

Tactics, strategy, logistics, civil engineering, leadership — and so much more. The task of running an embattled city, wringing every drop of usefulness out of the limited resources at their disposal, was teaching them things beyond martial excellence and personal valor.

A few of them were close to unlocking their Aspect Legacies, as well.

The Nightmares were always catalysts of explosive growth, and this one was no different. In fact, it was far greater in scope and intensity than all the previous Nightmares Effie had survived.

The problem, of course, was that she and the others would only get to enjoy the benefits of their growth if they survived this one, as well. And that was looking harder and harder to achieve with each passing day.

What was the point of all that improvement if all it ultimately granted them was a slower death?

Finally making her way through the crowded paths of the castle, Effie reached the drawbridge. It was lowered, and the last batches of people were crossing it to escape the vast desolation of the devastated city. Soldiers were showing them the way, explaining their new temporary arrangements. A young man in a luxurious tunic was overseeing the process.

The tunic was embroidered with golden thread, shimmering radiantly in the torchlight. It had seen better days, though, just like the people walking across the drawbridge and the city itself.

The young man was the prince of the dying city, the youngest son of the Mason. His older siblings had perished centuries ago, having failed to outlive their Supreme father... their great-grandchildren were long gone, as well. The family trees of powerful Awakened were a complete mess.

Effie glanced at the prince, wondering how her own family tree would look one day, if she survived the Nightmare and the apocalypse both.

‘Supremacy... it's a bit messed up, as far as human connections are concerned.'

That was the price of becoming a demigod, as well.

When the young prince noticed Effie, a pale smile illuminated his face. He left his post and headed her way.

The prince was a pleasant enough fellow. He was diligent, polite, and competent — even if his talents did not lie on the battlefield, just like his father's. He had also been able to maintain his optimism and decorum for a long while, helping Effie rally the citizens and keep them from losing hope.

It was just that now, there was a shadow of melancholy in his eyes. The plague had not spared the royal family, either, taking the lives of two of his three children. The smile never reached his eyes since then.

But just like the walls of the city, the prince had not crumbled.

Approaching Effie, he bowed.

"May the heavens smile upon you, Priestess."

Effie looked at him for a moment, then nodded.

“And you as well."

He hesitated, studying her, as if unsure what to say. So, Effie spoke instead.

"This should be the last of them, right? You only have a few hours left. Make sure that everyone is inside the castle."

The prince turned to the stream of gaunt, battered people entering through the gate.

"Yes... this is the last of them."

His voice was distant.

Effie sighed.

"How is your father? He didn't look too well yesterday."

The prince remained silent for a moment, then smiled wistfully.

"He is fading away. I think the era of the Mason will end soon — perhaps in a few days, maybe in a few weeks.”

He paused, then added in a soft tone:

“My father... among the great and terrible Supremes, he might not have been the most glorious, or one whose thrilling feats are sung about across the mortal realms. But, still... long centuries of peace, long centuries of prosperity. If I wanted to leave behind a legacy, I would have wanted to leave a legacy like his."

The prince glanced at Effie and chuckled.

“I am sorry, my lady. As a priestess of War, you must find my talk of peace distasteful.”

Effie glanced into the distance.

“Actually, I am quite fond of peace."

She hesitated for a moment, then turned to the prince and smiled.

“It is just that my fondness for peace is purely theoretical, since I've never known it. I don't think I'll recognize peace even if it hit me in the face."

As long as Effie could remember herself, she had been fighting for her life. And by the time she grew powerful enough to survive, she was fighting for the lives of others.

So, what was peace?

She did not know.

Effie sighed, then shook her head.

“The legacy of your father is not long centuries of peace and prosperity, though. It is you, your family — and all these people. So, as long as his people continue to live and remember him, his era will continue.”

The prince remained silent for a long while, then nodded.

“As long as we continue to live. As long as we remember."

With that, he looked across the drawbridge, at the desolate city.

“Stone breaks, but people endure. Thank you, Priestess."

He turned to her then and looked at her solemnly.

After a long stretch of silence, the prince said, his tone laden with meaning.

"We will remember you as well, my lady."

Effie inhaled deeply, then smiled and turned away.

Stepping onto the drawbridge to leave the castle, she left the prince behind.

This was most likely the last time they saw each other.

If so...

Effie wished for the young prince and his people to find peace and prosperity once more, one day.

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