"Brace for impact, sisters!"
A loud cry rang through the field, the smell of blood and fear evident in the cold night air. Wisps of fire burned through the grass, blue flames licking at any and everything in its path.
A large boulder of ice hurled straight at the center of the field, shattering into splinters of toxic ice and releasing poisonous fumes.
Gammon, the Fergian general, coughed violently as the fumes spread. "It's poisonous!" she cried. "Take cover!"
Her aide, Kerra, pulled her back from the fumes. "Sister," she wheezed in pain and exhaustion, "we need to retreat. Our manpower is dwindling and morale is low."
She coughed again, the pain shooting up her chest and burning her lungs. "We cannot surrender," she said weakly. "They'll ruin us if we do. We either fight to survive or die trying."
Phoenixes spread their flame armoured wings and shot up into the air, conjuring spears of fire and hurling it at the enemy camp.
Kerra shook her head. "Chances of us winning now are low, Gammon. It is better to retreat and recover for the next attack."
Nodding, she gestured for the Ferg flag to be raised. "Retreat!"
Under command, thousands of Phoenix warriors swiftly retreated, leaving a path of fire and smoke in their wake.
"Sister, we must leave," Kerra urged. The Philosian soldiers were charging at them despite retreat, their battlecry resounding. "We have to go now!"
Gammon shook her head weakly. "I cannot call forth my wings." She looked at her aide. "But I can hold them for a while. Go. I'll be right behind you."
"Gammon-!"
"Go! I'll hold them off."
"You'll die!" Kerra cried. "We cannot lose you. We cannot afford to, the morale is already too low! What will happen to us if you're dead?!" She sighed, her eyes tear filled. "I cannot lose you, sister." Huge flames wings burst from her back as she crouched down. "I'll carry you. So hold on."
Soon, they soared, flames engulfing form as both shield and essence. Gammon could only look on weakly as yet another territory was lost. Philos was winning.
"Kerra," she mustered weakly. Her words were caught in her throat, the burden of constant failure weakening her brave resolve for freedom.
"Gammon," Kerra answered. "Do not despair. Reinforcements are on their way."
"Reinhardt?" Gammon questioned, a short, bitter laugh escaping her chapped lips. "Those dragons will not save us."
Kerra did not say anything. Perhaps, it was better not to. The Reinhardts only would intervene in the war if their existence was threatened.
"Sylus is on a steady course to become an archduke," Gammon continued, her ginger hair floating in the wind as they flew higher. "He is an ambitious man. He won't step in if it means losing the favor of the king."
"The duke may be ambitious, but he is not callous. He won't turn against a clan he shares blood with."
Gammon laughed again, a short, sharp scoff that showed she thoroughly disagreed. "His grandmother was one of us, so what? He won't consider that he has phoenix blood."
Kerra kept mute again. How was one to comfort one on the verge of despair?
But that soon became the least of their concerns, as their camp came closer into view. As they descended into the forest, what greeted them were blood curdling screams of their phoenix sisters and mana infused, icy cold.
Kerra stumbled as soon as her flames feet hit the ground, affected.
"Kerra!" Gammon screamed.
Kerra coughed hard, reacting violently to the icy mana diffused into the air. "Sister," she managed, "It's Brittleheart."
Gammon gasped, collapsing from extreme weakness. Brittleheart's poisonous fumes blocked a phoenix's vital points, inhibiting them from creating fire.
"We have to go," Kerra said weakly, trying to hoist her already injured superior up. "Before the hallucinations set in."
Gammon swayed on her feet, dark figures already swirling in her vision. "I'm already affected, Kerra. Go. Rescue our sisters while you can," she answered. Soon, the hallucinations would become vivid nightmares that could trap her forever. She did not want Kerra to witness her final descent into madness.
"No," Kerra refused, her cognition slowing. "I'm not leaving you…" She coughed, ice building up in her lungs.
"Kerra, our sisters-"
"Need you," she cut in. "I cannot leave you here while I try to rescue them."
Gammon tried to breathe in to steady herself, but every draw of air sent icy splinters burrowing into her lungs. She groaned at the immense pain, gold tinted blood dripping down her nose.
The trees swayed as hundreds of feet marching could be heard in the night air. With great effort, Kerra managed to look up.
"Soldiers," she whispered with alarm. "Gammon, we have to leave-"
A whip struck out, wrapping itself around her throat.
"Kerra!" Gammon lunged at the whip to free her aide, but was held back by two pairs of arms.
"Let go! Kerra!" Her eyes burned gold, despite her weakness. She glared at the soldiers, her irises glowing with hatred.
One of the soldiers gagged at the sight, striking her hard across the face in a bid to make her cower. "How dare you look at me, you animal."
Desperate, she struggled against them, but she was restrained with a Brittleheart infused whip, weakening her all the more. Her legs buckled as she fell to the ground, spurting golden blood from her lips.
"The general has been found and restrained, Your Grace," a high ranking soldier announced.
Slowly, she looked up at her captor, watching as he slowly walked towards her, the mana torch he held reflecting in his ruby irises.
"Sylus," she laughed bitterly. "I should have known." She had predicted that Sylus would not come to save Ferg or her phoenix sisters, but betrayal was a new low.
His white hair caught the orange light of the flaming torch, his eyes unfeeling and cold. "I am here under the king's decree."
The soldiers dragged her up, kicking her for good measure when she resisted. Gammon's eyes glowed unnaturally with hatred and sorrow when she realised she had been betrayed.
"How could you?" She whispered, her voice heavy with pain. She tried to search his eyes, his gaze for any semblance of warmth, of affection, of care.
It was long gone. All that remained were two unblinking red pools of indifference.
He brought out a scroll and began to read it out loud, his voice clear and sharp in the air despite the screams of the Phoenix soldiers. "By His Majesty's decree, all hear :Countess Gammon Von Fergos, head of the Fergian border and advisor to the third Philosian Princess, stands accused of slandering the Philosian crown, hoarding the Aether Stone and plotting rebellion by use of mana. Her crimes against Philos are unpardonable. Sylus Von Reinhardt, head of the Reinhardt duchy, and advisor to the King, is hereby commanded to apprehend the traitor." His eyes flicked up to meet her gaze. "All who resist will be deemed accomplices and will be executed on the spot, along with their families."
Kerra snarled at Sylus, her eyes brimming with unshed tears. "You dog! We trusted you, and this is how you repay us?! Do you think you'll get away with this?!"
Sylus looked on, making a motion to one of the soldiers to restrain her. Following orders, the soldier struck her with a Brittleheart infused whip, rendering her unconscious.
Tears streaked down Gammon's war weary face, hurt and full of sorrow. "What did that old man promise you, Sylus? Wealth? Honour? The position of archduke?"
Sylus did not say anything.
Angered, Gammon yelled at him. "Answer me, Sylus! What was worth betraying me?!"
Sylus spoke this time, his voice slow and calculated. "I was promised nothing. It is my duty to serve Philos and apprehend a traitor threatening the peace." He paused, folding the scroll neatly. "My love for you has nothing to do with this."
Gammon laughed. "Love? You speak of love?" She sighed, looking up as though she finally realised something. "You know nothing of love, Sylus. You know how to charm, and be charismatic, and get people to adore you and follow you, but you know nothing of love. You do not know how to give it, nor receive it. You are cursed."
Sylus looked unbothered, but Gammon knew it wasn't true. His right eye was beginning to glow. He may have carefully hid his true identity, but it would not remain hidden forever.
"Take them away," he said coldly.
The soldiers began to drag them away, but Gammon shouted. "Sylus! How many days till they find out who you are?! What your people are? How many years?! You may think you are safe, but you've only begun your own descent into madness! Every day you wake up, you will be seized with fear that the truth is out. You will never be able to enjoy food, or clothing, or pleasure! You will live in fear everyday till the truth is out. You will be cursed, Sylus, cursed!"
Sylus watched as they chained his first love, beating her and maltreating her. He wanted nothing more than to run to her, to save her, to punish those people who hurt her.
But he could not side with her. For the safety of his own people, he could not be the hero she deserved.
He hated himself.
Years later, Gammon's words would come back to haunt him. Every night, his dreams would be riddled with nightmares of him losing the very people he swore to protect. Losing himself.
But at this moment, he merely sighed and turned away, oblivious to the bleak future awaiting him.