The mountains had not been kind to them, and neither had Duras. The battle had raged for hours, and the pass they'd fought so hard to traverse had become a bloodied graveyard. The last remnants of Duras' forces were being driven back, but the cost was high. The narrow terrain had forced the army into close quarters combat, and Elira had seen too many good men and women fall under the weight of Duras' blade.
Now, with the pass secured, her army stood at the edge of the open plains, looking toward the looming city of Duras. The capital of the empire was just a day's march away, but what lay ahead was a battlefield like no other. The city walls were said to be nearly impregnable, built of thick stone and guarded by the best soldiers in the empire.
But Elira had something Duras did not—unity.
Her soldiers were tired, their faces haggard with exhaustion, but they were ready. Elira had made sure of that. The rebellion had weathered too many storms to fall at the final hurdle. They would take Duras, and they would end this war, no matter the cost.
As the army set up camp on the outskirts of the plains, Elira gathered her generals for one last council before the assault. Kael was already at the front of the tent, his hands clasped behind his back as he stared over the map, his face a mask of concentration.
"Elira," he began as she entered the tent, his eyes hard with determination, "We've scouted the city's defenses. Duras has set up fortified positions along the main gates. They have archers in the towers, and I've heard rumors that they've reinforced their walls with magic."
"Magic?" Elira repeated, her brow furrowing. Magic had been outlawed in the empire for centuries, but there were whispers of forbidden practices. "What kind of magic?"
"We're not sure," Kael admitted, "but we've seen signs of it—strange symbols carved into the gates and the ground around them. I wouldn't be surprised if they've brought in sorcerers."
Elira's grip tightened around the hilt of her sword. Magic had been a force she had never trusted, a weapon she couldn't understand. But if Duras was using it, they would have to find a way to counter it.
"We'll need to breach the walls before their sorcerers can complete whatever ritual they're planning," Elira said, her voice steady. "We don't have the time to wait."
Kael nodded. "Then we strike at dawn. We'll need to move quickly and strike hard. The main gates are our best bet."
Corin, who had been quiet until now, spoke up, his voice low. "You'll need to watch the flanks. Duras is known for their traps. There's more than one way into the city."
Elira's eyes flicked to him. There was a quiet tension between them, an unresolved thread that neither had dared to address since the pass. But she couldn't afford to ignore his expertise.
"Fine," she said, her tone sharper than she intended. "We'll watch the flanks. Everyone, prepare for the assault. This is our final chance."
The night before the battle, Elira stood alone outside her tent, her gaze fixed on the distant city of Duras. The moon hung low in the sky, casting long shadows across the plains. The army slept behind her, unaware of the weight she carried.
She had always known that this war would demand everything from her, but now, standing on the brink of victory, she couldn't shake the feeling that something was missing. The faces of her fallen comrades flashed before her eyes, their memories etched into her soul.
But it was Corin's face that lingered. The man who had once been her friend, her ally, and someone she had trusted. Could she really lead them to victory with the weight of his betrayal hanging over her?
"Elira," a voice called, breaking her thoughts.
She turned to see Kael approaching, his face serious.
"You should rest," he said quietly. "The army is depending on you tomorrow."
"I will," Elira replied, though she knew she wouldn't sleep. "Do you think we can win?"
Kael paused for a long moment before answering. "I've never doubted you, Elira. We've come this far because of you. We can win this. But you'll have to lead us."
Elira nodded, the weight of his words settling in her chest. "I won't fail them, Kael. I can't."
He gave her a reassuring smile, though it was tinged with worry. "None of us can. But we'll fight for it. We fight for each other."
And with that, Kael left her to her thoughts.
The next morning, the sun rose over the plains as Elira's army began their march toward Duras. The city loomed ahead, its high walls standing like a fortress against the coming storm. Elira's soldiers moved in tight formation, their armor gleaming in the early light, their faces set in grim determination.
Corin rode at the front, his presence a silent reminder of the tension between them. He had kept his distance since their last conversation, as if waiting for Elira to say something, to offer some kind of absolution. But Elira knew that nothing he could say would undo the past.
The gates of Duras stood tall before them, guarded by a line of soldiers and archers. The city's walls were indeed fortified, but Elira could see that the rebellion had the advantage in numbers. This was their moment.
"Ready yourselves!" Elira called, her voice strong and clear. "We break through together!"
The signal was given, and the battle began. Elira led her forces forward with a fury that matched the storm clouds gathering overhead. Arrows rained down from the towers, but Elira and her soldiers pressed on, their shields raised to protect each other.
In the midst of the battle, Elira's mind was a whirlwind. She had never imagined it would be like this—so many lives on the line, so much destruction. But there was no turning back now.
"Corin!" she shouted over the din of the battle.
He appeared at her side almost instantly, his face shadowed with the same grim determination that drove her. He didn't speak, but she could see the question in his eyes. He was waiting for her to trust him again, to tell him where to strike.
And in that moment, Elira knew that she had no choice but to lead, no choice but to trust the decisions she had made. Whether Corin was at her side or not, this battle was hers to win—or lose.
"We push through the gate!" Elira shouted, her voice cutting through the noise. "Everyone, follow me!"
With that, they surged forward, charging toward the main gate with all the force they had left. Duras' soldiers fell in their wake, their defenses faltering as Elira and her army fought their way into the heart of the city.