Interlude XXVIII – Ashen's Watch
Ashen stood in the treeline, arms folded, eyes fixed on the fortress.
Her lieutenant shifted uneasily. "They're holding longer than we thought."
Ashen's lips curved. "No. They're breaking exactly as I intended. Fear is a deeper wound than steel."
The snow drifted soft across her shoulders. Her gaze was patient. "Soon their walls will open themselves. The wolf thinks herself caged. She'll gnaw her own leg before the end."
----
Interlude XXIX – Darius' Ledger
Darius paced the chamber of shifting glyphs. The Wanderer lingered, silent.
"They can't win by staying inside," Darius muttered. "Ashen's tempo is perfect. Every hour she doesn't strike is another stone crumbling in Seraphine's hands."
The glyphs pulsed faintly, showing probability lines, cascading losses, morale decay.
The Wanderer tilted her head. "And if she chooses risk?"
Darius stopped. He almost smiled. "Then she'll break the script. The System doesn't like broken scripts."
----
Interlude XXX – System Log
[ALERT: STRATEGIC VARIANCE DETECTED]
Command Entity: Seraphine.
Projected Outcome: 8% Success / 92% Collapse.
Note: Variance exceeding simulation tolerance.
Awaiting correction…
----
The hall was colder than it should have been. Not from winter, but from silence.
Seraphine stood at the map table, her palms flat on scarred wood. The officers ringed her, faces gaunt, hollowed by hunger and dread. Valeria's arms were crossed tight, her posture iron. Noctis leaned lazily against a column, though his eyes gleamed sharp.
Every torch sputtered as though afraid of the air.
She spoke. Her voice was low but steady. "If we stay here, we die. Not by blade, but by silence. By fear. By hunger."
No one argued. The truth already bled from their faces.
She dragged her hand across the map, tracing the forests beyond. "Ashen doesn't want our walls. She wants our time. So we steal it back. We strike her."
The room stirred. Murmurs, quick glances. Madness in their eyes.
One officer barked, "You'd have us abandon the fortress? Leave the walls—"
"The walls are tombs already," Seraphine cut him off, her eyes flaring. "Better to die with swords in hand than starve like rats."
Valeria's jaw tightened. Then she nodded once. "At least we choose the ground. Not her."
Noctis' grin flickered, sharp and crooked. "Finally. I was getting bored of waiting to starve."
The officers fell silent. No agreement, no dissent. Just the heavy knowledge of inevitability.
Seraphine slammed her fist on the table. "Tomorrow. We break out at dawn."
The hours until dawn dragged like chains.
Seraphine couldn't sleep. She paced the battlements instead, snow soaking her cloak, eyes fixed on the black line of forest. Ashen was out there, patient, waiting.
But Seraphine's chest no longer felt strangled. For the first time in weeks, she could breathe.
She wasn't waiting anymore.
At dawn, the gates groaned open.
The army marched, armor patched, banners tattered, eyes hollow—but their steps thundered as one.
Seraphine at the front, Valeria at her right, Noctis at her left.
The cold bit deep, but the cold was nothing compared to despair. And despair had been left behind on stone walls.
The snow swallowed sound. The forest loomed like a mouth.
Then, faintly, the sound of a horn.
Ashen knew.
The ambush snapped shut like jaws.
Arrows hissed from the treeline. Shadows moved between trees.
But Seraphine roared, her blade flashing, cutting the snow's silence into pieces.
"Forward!"
Valeria smashed into the first line, shield blazing with runes. Spears cracked against her, shattered. Noctis slipped between enemies like smoke, his knives carving through throats before they knew he was there.
The army surged.
Blood sprayed, hot in the frozen air.
Ashen had planned for this—but so had Seraphine.
The wolf wasn't gnawing her leg. The wolf was biting back.
Hours blurred into screams and clash.
Seraphine cut through three soldiers, her sword burning from the friction of strikes. Her breath came harsh, ragged.
Valeria never fell. She was iron in motion, her shield glowing brighter with each blow absorbed.
Noctis laughed as he spun, blades dripping, every movement a flourish of cruelty.
The army pushed deeper.
For the first time, the forest howled not with Ashen's silence—but with Seraphine's defiance.
And then—she saw her.
Ashen stood across the field, cloak black against the snow, her blade drawn but not yet bloodied.
Their eyes locked.
No words passed, but Seraphine felt it. The grin behind Ashen's calm.
You broke the cage. Good. Now bleed for it.
Seraphine raised her sword. Her voice split the air: "Ashen!"
The snow roared.
The two commanders surged toward each other, armies shattering around them, the storm itself bending as though to witness.
The clash was fire against frost.
Seraphine's blade met Ashen's, sparks burning across snow.
Every strike rang like a bell. Every step cracked the earth beneath their feet.
Ashen's voice was calm, almost pleased. "Finally. The wolf bares her teeth."
Seraphine snarled, teeth bared. "Better than choking on your leash."
They crashed together, again and again, blades screaming. Soldiers around them staggered back, unwilling to be caught in the storm of their duel.
Ashen's movements were measured, perfect. Seraphine's were raw, furious, burning.
The balance trembled.
The sun dipped, bleeding light across the snow.
Seraphine's breath burned her chest. Her arms ached. Ashen's strikes still came steady, relentless, as if the battle were nothing more than practice.
The army fought still, blood staining the white, cries ringing.
But here, in the eye of the storm, it was only them.
Seraphine's blade cracked against Ashen's guard, sparks bursting. She pushed forward with everything she had.
Ashen smiled.
And twisted the duel into something else entirely.