As Nissilât pushed the grate aside and pulled herself onto the muddy ground, she flopped onto her back with a gasp of relief, staring up at a sky she thought she might never see again. I did it. The cold rain beat against her face, the water puddling around her back, but right now, she couldn't imagine herself ever complaining about the rain again. There were doubtless some worse fates than being buried alive, but not many, and she could barely believe they'd escaped.

But her moment of reverie was interrupted by a hellish screech as the heavens lit up with a brilliant, yet silent, explosion of light. Flipping onto her side, she turned the distant ruins of Dūr-Sūqerbettû in time to see a massive wyrm rearing on its hindquarters as the light smote it.

Her brow wrinkled in confusion as she stared at the distant light show. She had known the portal had likely been opened after they'd been forced to flee, and she'd guessed, too, that whatever remained of resistance in the fort had either fled or been slaughtered. The soldiers had proved completely unequal to the task of facing the hulked-up stoneflesh, and her party had proved equally powerless against the blood mage.

But she hadn't expected to find the fight still raging. The attacks bombarding the wyrm were a bit too silvery and silent to be Tsia's lightning, unless the girl had undergone some miraculous transformation in their brief time apart, but that meant there was an unknown mage at hand - a mage who might just be capable of defeating the Bloodspiller. Kruvas̆.

She cursed silently as the realization struck her that her fight wasn't over yet. As much as she wanted to slink off into the night and let the Empire deal with the portal once they had time to rally her forces, she knew she couldn't afford to do so. Her presence here had been known not just by the likely dead garrison of the fort, but Yas̆peh's Djinn commander; if she fled the scene without even trying to find out if the others were still alive, her chances of a favorable reply for her petition to the Emperor would plummet to near nothing. She would have to rejoin the fight, but first, she needed to get the villagers out of there.

Fortunately, the ventilation shaft from the unfinished sanctum opened into a copse of trees a few thousand yards away from the now decimated walls of the fortress. A few strange beasts flew overhead, barely visible against the dark night sky, but none seemed to notice them under the shelter of the forest as she slowly ushered the villagers up the shaft. The soldiers came first, forced to abandon their armor in order to squeeze through the narrow tunnel, and took a protective formation around the exit as she worked on bringing the rest up.

The children came next. In theory, they were the easiest to bring out as they could easily fit through the narrow confines of the ventilation shaft and were naturally more adept at climbing, but, in practice, the crying, sobbing, terrified children ended up having to be pushed and pulled up the shaft two or three at a time.

The fight in the distance continued to rage on as she brought the last of the children up and began on the villagers. One by one, they trickled out until three remained, too wide to fit through the narrow opening. Nissilât knew what she had to do, but it didn't make her feel any better as she climbed down one last time. She promised the three they'd return to dig them out once they found aid, but everyone knew it was an empty gesture. Tossing them what little food she had, she also left them a knife before returning to the surface. What they did with it was their decision.

The rain kissed her head as she pulled herself out of the shaft, and she slipped in the mud, but a strong hand steadied her. "Your orders, my lady?"

Looking up, she found herself staring at the last remaining sergeant. "Take the villagers to safety. You must reach Merôm and warn them."

"My lady, please-" His voice broke, and his eyes flitted toward the light show in the heavens behind them, Nissilât knew, then, that he wanted to go, that he wanted to lose himself in the same battle that had stolen all his comrades, but she shook her head.

"They need you, sergeant, and that mage needs me. Will you do your duty?"

The man hesitated, but the lines on his face slowly resolved into grim determination. "Aye, I will see them to safety."

She nodded briskly in satisfaction and turned to go, but as she reached the edge of the impromptu camp, a small blur collided with her leg. "You can't leave."

Nissilât felt a pang of guilt as the little girl's frail hands clung tight; she hadn't forgotten about them, but she didn't know what else she could do. She could take them into the oncoming fight, and even if she survived it, it wasn't like she could bundle them along with her to the war against the capital, but the life of an orphan was never an easy one.

She bent down, gently prying the girl's hand off her, and rubbed her back soothingly. "I'm sorry, little one, but I have to go. Be brave for your brother, alright?"

The girl nodded her head mutely, still sniffling as she stood up and turned back to the sergeant. "If you don't mind, I have one last thing to ask of you. A favor, not an order," she clarified.

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"I can't take 'em in myself," he shook his head, "the army will demand I rejoin them as soon as I've reached Merôm."

"Don't worry, I'm not asking you to do that." Reaching into her bag, she pulled out a coin pouch and a small, bone token that she tossed over to him. Take them to the guild in Merôm and ask to speak to the second-in-command, a man named Agappû. Drop my name to him, and he'll take care of the rest."

The man snatched the pouch and token out of the air, and slid them into his tunic with practiced ease, as she continued.

"And, sergeant, I will be writing to Agappû to check them on."

"Understood, my lady."

She led the child over to him and, giving her one last hug, vanished into the shadows.

The situation became clearer as she reached the outer perimeter of Dūr-Sūqerbettû. The once formidable walls were now nothing more than a pile of rubble, with the stones ground down so badly by the earthquake that she doubted they could even be reused when the Empire eventually sought to rebuild. But as she pulled herself up to the top of the pile, she realized the mage was not alone.

He was still trapped in a frantic battle with the wyrm, a battle she was fairly sure he was beginning to lose. Though the darkness of the night and the steady rain made it nearly impossible for her to assess his condition as he flitted around the massive creature, she could tell the number of spells he cast was beginning to slow. She hesitated, running through her list of spells and rituals as she tried to think of a way she could help him, and then she noticed the army massed around the portal.

Djinn banners waved limply above the gathered ranks as they fended off attacks from thousands of winged chimeras. Against the dark, stormy skies, the creatures were nearly impossible to see until they dived down, strafing through the ranks to devastating effect before launching themselves back into the air, their victims clutched in their razor-sharp talons.

They had done well to hold it this long, but as her eyes swept over the lines, she could see the telltale signs that they were about to break. This was something she could fix - the mage would just have to hold out a little bit longer.

She was still a few hundred feet away from the crumbling ranks of the army when her voice boomed out in command. "Dunnunūka, s̆ullumūka, ezizka!"

The words took instant effect. The lines reformed as new strength surged through their weary limbs, as minor wounds sealed shut, as fresh fury flowed through their veins, and when the creatures divebombed again, they were met with grievous losses. Her voice thundered over the fray time and again as she fought her way to the middle of the army, where a small group of commanders were huddled together. What in kruvas̆-sake are they doing?

The answer to her question became clear, though, as she reached them. The group of commanders was almost to a man pale-skinned and small-horned; none of them had leveled up enough to even reach fire immunity, let alone develop the command skills needed to actually take control of such a large group.

"What happened to the rest of your commanders?" she barked out as they huddled around.

"General Ardûl and the firebird captains went to lure the wyrm away from us. Captain As̆s̆ûlat was left in charge, but she fell. I'm the most senior that remains, but…" The man who greeted her shrugged helplessly, and she understood.

"Then until Ardûl returns, I'm in charge." She paused long enough to chant out another command to the army, bolstering their strength, before turning back to them. "What supplies do you have?" she demanded.

"My lady, I don't know if I can-" The noble hesitated, clearly grateful for her sudden arrival, but wary of granting the stranger access to their stores.

She growled with irritation, cutting him off. "I might know a ritual that can kill the wyrm, but I need certain supplies I don't have on me," she snapped. "Now do you want to save your commander and your own sorry lives, or do you want to die here in the mud?"

The man paled, but to his credit, kept his calm. "What do you need, commander?"

The next thirty minutes were among the most grueling of Nissilât's life. She'd fought in plenty of battles before; given her rocky relationship with her uncle, she'd had to earn every promotion that came her way beyond a shadow of a doubt, but most of those battles had been against lesser foes: bandits, cultists, and the occasional group of overly-excitable Gemlirians that got the bright idea to go raiding. The battle for Birtu had been a different story, of course, but even there, the opponent had been outmatched if not for her uncle's foolishness. But this was a different story.

It was only thanks to Ardûl that the army even still existed - if the wyrm had been allowed to go on a rampage, it could have torn through the lesser ranks in a matter of minutes, but they were still outmatched by the bloody chimeras. Near everything about the battle was working against them; the dark skies hid the beasts until they were ready to strike, and the steady rain prevented the one true weakness they'd discovered, fire, from being utilized to any real effect. Even worse, the army's hurriedly gathered stores of javelins and arrows were all but exhausted, leaving them with nothing better than spears to fend off the aerial attackers.

Her essence depleted rapidly as she chanted out commands to the terrified troops - calming, healing, enraging them. It was a waiting game now, as the lieutenants scrambled to carry out her other orders, assembling the ingredients for the ritual she hoped would turn the tide.

"Dunnunūka, s̆ullumūka, ezizka!" As she screamed the orders again, a hand tapped on her shoulder. "Everything's ready, commander." She glanced behind her and saw that an impromptu altar had been fashioned out of the broken rubble of the walls. A dozen dead chimeras were heaped around it, their blood ready to be spilt out, and the three ingredients she'd requested were arranged beside them. Gems, a vial of poison, and the scales of an emerald viper. Hope Bēlet-Imtu like this.

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